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faefictions · 1 year

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Go to Bed Angry

Eddie Munson x Reader

Word count: 2.5k

Request: Eddie teasing and flustering his girl best friend who has a not so hidden crush on him and he has a not so hidden crush on her but they're both blind to it With a happy fluffy ending please 🥺

(Gif by @thorinsbeard)

It had been a Tuesday afternoon. You only remember that detail because any other day of the week, Eddie wouldn’t have been free to give you a ride home after school. It wasn’t anything new, you were in the passenger seat of his van, the music blasting through the speakers at a deafening volume. He had just made a joke that to this day you can’t remember, but that wasn’t what did it. You turned to the window, rolling your eyes in annoyance at his teasing, everything was business as usual. That was until you glanced at his reflection, staring at the back of your head. It was a simple, innocent look, but something about it lit a fire in you that you couldn’t stamp out.

That was the moment you realized you were in love with your best friend.

You spent every day after that either in active denial, or trying your best to suppress the emotions you knew were brewing. It shouldn’t have been that hard. Eddie was just as much of a little shit as ever. His constant comments about how bad your breath smelled, or how terrible your music taste was, or slight digs at your personality in general should have been enough to completely kill the crush that you had. But the small moments where he would check to make sure you were ok in stressful situations, or when he would insist on buying you flowers when he knew you were having a particularly bad day. This moments would bring you right back to that day in his van, and the butterflies would come creeping back up on you.

It only got worse after graduation. On graduation day, Eddie had picked you up and spun you around out of excitement. Neither of you had really thought that he would be graduating with you that year, but after all the late nights you forced him to study, he had finally crawled his way past the finish line. For a second, after he had set you down, you thought that he was going to lean in and kiss you. He just stood there for a moment, staring into your eyes without saying a word, but the Hellfire boys ruined the moment when they practically tackled him from behind. You avoided him for the rest of the night after that.

Once you both got full time jobs, it got harder to spend time with each other. You began to worry that the two of you would drift apart, but Eddie would have never left that happen. The second he realized that you were worried about it, he chose to come over to your trailer every day after work.

It didn’t matter if he worked a 10 hour shift, or if he got off a 3 am, you could always expect him to let himself in and plop himself down on your couch with a loud sigh. It became a new normal to wait for Eddie to “come home”, but you hated that you thought of it that way. It was staring to feel a little too domestic. But that didn’t stop you from making him something to eat after every shift, or listening to his incredibly boring work stories for hours, or walking him 100 feet back to his trailer so he could get some much needed sleep.

On one night in September, you came home from your shift at 4 pm, as always. Your hair was slipping out of it’s pony tail, and your makeup was smudged. It had been a particularly long day. The amount of customers who had left with nothing but complaints had been higher than normal, and it had worn you out by lunch. You counted down every minute of the tail end of your shift, but not even clocking out was enough to get rid of the storm cloud over your head.

You had no idea how long you had until Eddie would inevitably let himself into your trailer, but you figured you had at least a few hours to shower and get yourself in a better mood before you had to socialize again. However, you were proven wrong when you opened your trailer door and found Eddie’s work boots kicked off to the side, and heard him rustling around in the kitchen.

“Is it too early for dinner? I mean, you always make it when I get off, but that can be like six o clock or midnight so I don’t really know what a normal dinner time is to you.”

“What are you doing here?”

He turned around to face you, now standing behind him in the small kitchen area, his shirt covered in a mysterious food stain that you couldn’t find the origin of since it appeared he was only making macaroni.

“You feeling ok?” he asked as he feigned concern and placed his wrist on your forehead to feel for an imaginary temperature. “How could you forget about your favorite person in the whole world? I’m Eddie, remember? I practically live here,” He giggled to himself before you slapped his hand away from your head.

“You’ve just never gotten off this early. I figured I had time to at least take a shower before you got here,”

“Bad day?”

You sighed and turned to finally take your jacket and shoes off. Your sigh was answer enough for him.

“You can still go take a shower. It’s not like I don’t know my way around.”

“It’s fine, you made food, let’s just eat.”

“No,” he chided as he blocked your access to the cupboard you were reaching for, “Go get out of your work clothes and get in the shower, before I help you out of them.”

“Eddie!” you yelped and slapped him on the arm, praying that the blush you felt on your cheeks wasn’t as obvious as it felt.

“I’m serious. Shower. Now,” he laughed and began to shoo and chase you down the hall into the bathroom.

“I don’t have any clothes to change into,” you pouted before he could close the bathroom door in your face.

“Get the water warm, I’ll go get your pajamas.”

You said a quick thank you as he disappeared, and you did just as he said. You turned the water up as hot as it would go, knowing that you needed to melt the day away. Eddie quickly returned with a change of clothes before running back to the kitchen in hopes that he hadn’t found a way to somehow burn a box of Kraft.

After your shower, you emerged from the bathroom fully clothed, but hair still dripping wet. You hadn’t had the energy to dry it, and the grumbling coming from your stomach was getting to be too much. Luckily, by the time you made it to the living room, Eddie was waiting on the couch with a still warm bowl of macaroni waiting for you.

“There she is,” Eddie smiled, mouth half full of noodles. He pushed the blanket that had been resting next to him onto the ground and patted the cushion excitedly.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” you sighed and bent over to pick the blanket back up. You could feel Eddies eyes focusing on you as you folded it and rested it over the back of the couch.

“What’s with you today, sweetheart? Something happen at work?,” he asked, much more gentle now, as he handed you your dinner.

“Just a long day Eds,” you fought off another sigh.

“Seriously,” he stopped you from taking your first bite, “Is there someone I need to beat the shit out of? You know I’d do that for you, right?”

“Can I just eat this lovely meal you’ve prepared for the two of us?” You faked a smile and hoped your blush wasn’t too dark.

Lately, anything Eddie said made you feel a certain way. It was like he was going out of his way to get a reaction out of you, almost like he was doing it on purpose.

“Fine,” he smirked, “I’ll get my answers out of you later, Doll.”

You tried not to choke in response to that name. That was a new one, and your brain reacted a little too fondly to it. You quickly reached for the remote and turned to the first station that seemed entertaining enough to shut Eddie up.

You reveled in the silence for the short while it lasted. You loved spending time with Eddie, always had, but it had grown harder to be around him with him acting like this. The last thing you wanted was for him to figure out how you felt about him and ruin the friendship. As time went on, it was growing harder and harder to control your own reactions to him though.

Just as your heart finally began to beat normally again, right after you had finished your dinner and set the bowl on the coffee table in front of you, you hit your limit. Eddie reached out and guided your chin towards him. He made eye contact for a moment, with an expression that felt too serious for the situation, and for a second you thought he might kiss you. Instead, he brought his thumb to the corner of your mouth and swiped away what you could only assume was a glob of artificial cheese.

“Got it,” he smiled.

“I’m feeling pretty tired, I think maybe you should head home,” you nearly snapped at him. It came out more polite than you expected, but much less than you meant for it to sound.

“But it’s only like 5:30,” he pouted. It was obvious that something was off. He usually wouldn’t get off work until much later than this, and would still end up staying longer than he had today.

“Like I said, long day. You should get going.”

“Come on, y/n, did I do something?” he tried to reason with you as you began to usher him off of the couch and towards the exit.

“Eddie, I just wanna be alone right now, ok? Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“No,” he dug his heels in just as you had nearly gotten him to the door, and turned to face you, “Something’s up and I’m not leaving until we resolve it. You know what they say, never go to bed angry.”

“Eddie, that’s for married couples.”

“And we’re practically that.”

“Excuse me? No, Eddie, we aren’t practically anything!”

“Woah, ok, I was just joking around sweetheart.”

Had you been thinking straight, you would have noticed that Eddie almost seemed offended at your reaction to his joke. But you were far from level headed, and all you knew was that he had no right to tease you like that if he didn’t mean a word of it.

You groaned and rushed around him, opening the door to make the invitation to leave feel more like a demand. But if there was one thing you knew about Eddie Munson, it was that he was the most stubborn piece of shit, beating out even you.

“You know for a fact that I’m going nowhere until you tell me what I did. I know this isn’t just a shitty day. It may have started out that way, but you’d never kick me out over just that.”

“Well maybe today was just extra shitty, Eddie. And maybe the cure to a shitty day is to not have you around to make me even more miserable.”

You hadn’t meant it, it had just slipped out, and the second you saw Eddie’s face drop, you had regretted it. But it was too late to take it back, and you still desperately wanted him out, so you just stood in silence, trying not to let any hot tears free from your eyes. You cursed yourself for your tendency to cry at any situation that made you raise your voice.

“Y/n, seriously, what did I do?” he asked, voice laced with deep concern, and took a nervous step towards you.

“Nothing, I just want you to leave, please.”

Your tears had begun to fall, and Eddie would have been able to sense your overwhelm from a mile away. He was unsure what to do though, since in any other situation, he would offer his presence to console you. He tried to comb through the night in his brain, trying to pick out anything he had done to upset you. Once he remembered the last thing he had done before you asked him to leave, he had an inkling of what may be happening.

He gently reached out and grabbed your hand to pull you even closer to him, and he proved himself correct when he saw the way you nearly winced at his touch. He knew you well, he had once declared himself an expert on everything y/n. But, he had missed the most important thing there was to know about you.

You loved him in the exact same way he had loved you from the start.

“Can I kiss you?” he blurted, but his voice was barely above a whisper.

“What?” you exclaimed, the surprise putting a pause to your tears.

“That’s what you wanted, right?”

“Eddie,” you warned, and pulled away from him, gently this time. There was no more malice towards him, just defeat. “I wouldn’t want you to do anything you wouldn’t want,” you finished as you turned to walk back to the couch. Before you could get far, he grabbed your arm once again and spun you around to look at him.

“Then let me kiss you because I want to,” as he spoke, his demeanor changed from confidence to match your insecurity, “Please.”

You both stood, staring at each other as you tried to take in what he had said. The butterflies in your stomach were trying to convince you that he meant it, that he really had wanted to kiss you, but your brain was trying to let you down gently. He had had a million chances to kiss you, to make a move, to do anything. But he had always chosen to tease, to make you think that what had blossomed between you was nothing but one sided. You were ready to turn him down, to try to preserve your friendship and your heart, until his hand reached out and cupped your cheek.

He slowly took a step towards you, never breaking his line of sight on your eyes. He moved as if you would turn and run at any sudden movement, and his heavy breathing gave his nerves even more away.

He wouldn’t be nervous if he were lying. That was the final thought you had before you launched yourself into his lips. There was no way he was going to get the glory of kissing you first. Not after all the teasing he had put you through.

Tags:

@eddielives1986 @eddieswifu @chickpeadumpsterfire @fluffybunnyu @embrace-themagic @fanficparker @heartbeats-wildly @saturn-aka-six @calum-hoodwinked-me @peterplanet @mischiefmanaged49 @nicotine-sunshine820 @itsjusttor @emistrash @thenoddingbunny-blog @sovereignparker @raajali3

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 8 days

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Winter's King 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: double chapter day?

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The summer sun brings little warmth to the castle of Debray. Those left behind in the shadow of their lord’s march to war, bide their time with baited breaths and unspoken worries. The duchess sinks into her cups, a nectar to her already sharp tongue, as her daughter buries herself in her wardrobe.

Lady Jazlene hands you dress after dress, demanding a stitch here or there, only to snatch it back and have you cut the cloth of another to alter yet a third. And a fourth, fifth, sixth. Strips of fabric and loose buttons litter the drawing room table as you and Merinda put your needles to work.

“Motherrrr,” Jazlene swirls around, swaying her hips back and forth, “it has been a fortnight already.”

“Your father will return soon,” Lady Rezlyn slurs before she empties her goblet. She has no husband to chide her away from excess. “Never fear, dearest.”

“That is not—mother, what am I to do? I have no wedding dress!”

“You have no mind,” Rezlyn snickers, “you will have only rags by the time you decide.”

“Hm,” Jazlene approaches the table with her hands on her hips, “mother, that gown with the gold lace. The one you wore last solstice--”

“My gold lace,” Rezlyn sneers, “no!”

“But mother. I only want the lace. You can have it re-trimmed. It would look much nicer with pearls,” Jazlene whines, “do you not understand? I am to marry a king. I cannot look as some simple countryside daughter.”

Rezlyn clucks and shakes her head, “if it hushes your endless moaning, have the lace.”

Jazlene gives a triumphant grin and turns to you. She grabs your arm and the needle catches in the fabric, slipping from your grasp, “go fetch mother’s dress. It is rosy satin.”

“And wine! Bring more wine,” Rezlyn interjects.

Jazlene rolls her eyes and flicks you away with her fingers. You hastily retreat as Merinda grimaces at her labour. Your fingers hurt from the endless hemming and seaming and you’ve noticed she’s jabbed herself more than once as the noble daughter changes course back and forth.

You flit from the chamber and sweep down to the kitchens. The descent into the cellar is lit by only the candle in your hand, the flame wobbling dangerously before you. You find a bottle of the duchess’ preferred and climb back into the light.

You snuff the tallow and quickly press on you. You climb the stairs again but falter as the wail of a horn breaks the afternoon din. You spin and turn to the window. Several other servants cluster beneath the arched opening as they try to see the horizon. The blast comes again, three in quick succession, followed by a long blare.

The noise of chain and mail comes from the courtyard below. The few men left behind to man the castle walls are quick to action. You can see the flap of banners and nothing more between the other curious bodies.

“Who is it? Enemy soldiers?” Waldon wonders.

“I cannot see, my eyes are dim,” Margite shields her vision from the sun as leans over the sill. Their chatter swirls at the approach.

“It is them! The Lord’s banner!” Stellan exclaims, “I can make out the sun and the sword on the banner. And the Winter King’s white crown.”

“They return! They return!” Another cries out, “are they victorious?”

You shuffle away. You forget about the golden lace and return to the drawing room. You enter and look down at the bottle in your hands. You blink, trying to recall what you were about to do. You set the wine on the table near the duchess as Jazlene seizes your other arm.

“Where is the dress?” She snarls, “ugh, are you so useless--”

“They’ve returned,” you utter cluelessy.

“They...” Jazlene begins.

“The king and your father, my lady,” you explain, “we saw them through the window. I thought to say so before I went to your mother’s wardrobe--”

“Quiet!” She shoves you away, “I need a different dress. The crimson slit with ivory. Yes, yes, now!”

She pushes you again and you stumble to the door.

“And slippers,” she calls after you, “Merinda! Get over here.”

You scurry back out and to Lady Jazlene’s chamber. You enter and sort through the mess of her clothing strewn and heaped about. You find the red and ivory dress and a pair of slippers of a similar hue. You are certain to bring a selection of jewels and pins to assuage any further remonstrance.

In the drawing room, Jazlene has Merinda fixing her hairpins. You approach with your armful and lay it on the table. Outside the walls, you can hear the chaos unfurling. You can hardly keep the noises straight as cogs grind, ropes groan, and the noblewoman carry on their tittering.

You help Jazlene step into the dress, Merinda holding the other side. As you work at the sleeves and skirts, she fidgets around.

“The king? The king is with them for sure?” She breaths.

You nod, “yes, my lady. His banner--”

“Mother! They have won. They must have.”

“Do not be too presumptuous,” the other lady rises and nears the table, snatching up a string of pearls, “come. Put these around my neck.”

There’s banging and knocking and footfalls and voices yelling. The walls cannot keep out the rising fervour. Horse hooves and rusty hinges. They are close, in the castle or more. You pull tight the laces of the dress as Merinda clasps the pearls around the duchess’ thick neck.

There is someone before the door. A shadow darkens below it for just an instant before it opens. No permission is asked as Lord Dustan clatters in. His eyes is swollen near shut.

“Daughter, wife, you must come down to the--”

Heavy, steady steps follow him. You continue to weave the laces through the eyes, going as fast as you can.

“Father, I am not dressed. I am not ready to receive--” Jazlene protests.

Dustan looks behind him and backs away from the doorframe. King Geralt fills it with his large figure, a dark cut along his hairline though he hardly seems bothered by it. Otherwise, he is untouched, unblemished. You knot the laces as you peek over Jazlene’s shoulder and his gold eyes shimmer in the low lantern light.

“Your highness,” Jazlene gasps and drops to a curtsy. You stand, dumbfounded for an instant before you bend your neck and your knee to his status. “We were not warned of your coming. I pray you have tasted victory,” she raises her head slowly, “and we may wed in celebration to ring your reign in the Summer Kingdom.”

He grumbles as his eyes search the space. Dull yet vibrant at the same time. He tilts his head as his jaw squares, “a king’s wife mustn’t fret so much about silks and wine,” he growls as he breaks the threshold. He marches to the rigid high back chair and lowers himself, “victory is mine but that does not mark the end of my efforts. I have no kingdom until all that which has broken is repaired.”

“Certainly, your highness, and I will be by your side to help you amend what has been injured. As your loyal wife and queen,” she wilts as she wobbles just a little, “I am only so happy to see you alive and returned.” She rises as straight as she can and sweeps over to him, pushing out her chest, “but not unharmed. Your highness, you have been wounded.”

She goes to touch the gash along his forehead and he motions her away with a flat palm.

“It is not dire,” he insists, “Lord Dustan, where is your bishop?”

“I sent away for him. He will come,” the duke avows.

“The bishop?” Jazlene looks to her mother.

“For the vows, precious,” Dustan assures.

“The vows? Now? Today? But father--”

“I haven’t time to wait around on paltry feasts and drunken hordes,” the king insists.

“But-- but--” Jazlene stammers, “I am a queen, I should have a wedding.”

“You are still but a duke’s daughter,” the king snaps, “a wedding you will have. Let us swear the words as was arranged. Then we must away.”

“Away? Away?” Jazlene echoes again.

“Take this parrot away from me,” King Geralt barks as he slams his fist into the arm of chair, “I tire of her squawking. When the bishop arrives, fetch me and I shall keep the oath I made.”

The edge in his voice cannot be missed on that single word. He is a man who would not break a promise given, not the like the one cowering by the door. You glance up slowly as you notice Jazlene quaking. You can tell by her fists that she is not so much afraid anymore as she is angered.

“Daughter,” Rezlyn girds and touches her daughter’s arm, “a wife should learn first to obey. Let us go paint your lips and await the bishop.”

“This cannot be...” Jazlene hisses.

“Quiet,” Lord Dustan snaps, “you want to marry, you marry as you are told. Out.”

Lady Rezlyn keeps the duke from grabbing his daughter, instead steering her through the door herself. Merinda follows first and you trail after. The king grumbles, “Debray, leave a maid. She may fetch me that wine.”

“My lord,” Lord Dustan points you back tersely, “the wine.”

“Leave me,” King Geralt demands of his fair-weather lord.

Dustan retreats and shuts the door heavily. You turn and cross to the table where you left the sealed bottle. You put your hand around the neck and lift it. You face the king and cross to him with your head low.

“Your highness, would you like a goblet?” You ask.

“I am not interested in imbibing,” he reaches beneath his mail and pulls free a grey handkerchief, “pour it on this.”

You crack the wax seal of the bottle and grab the bulbous head of the cork. You wiggle it but cannot dislodge it. You struggle with it and he wraps his large hand around the pregnant bottom.

“Little maid,” he slips it from your grasp and puts the kerchief in your hand.

The uncorks it with only his thumb, flicking free the stopper, and he reaches out to you. You press the cloth to rim and he tilts it slightly, wetting the fabric. He pulls it away and reaches to place it on the floor. You look at him curiously. He leans forward and runs his index below the gash in his head. You get his meaning and daintily press the damp cloth to his head.

“The alcohol cleanses,” he says as he leans heavier into your touch.

“It looks rather painful, your highness.”

You wince at your own careless words. You don’t know why you said anything at all. He sits in silence, breathing slowly. At last, he sits back and looks at you. You drop your hand and your chin.

“Might I get you anything else, your highness?” You offer as you fold the cloth into a tight wad.

“Tell me, how do you fare?”

“Your highness?” You peek up at him through your lashes.

“Are you well? Have you rested? Are you fed?” He prompts.

You raise your head, surprised by his questions.

“I am well, your highness. I have a roof above me.”

His cheek ticks, “same as you were. Same as I remember.”

He puts his head back and closes his eyes. He sighs deeply. You waver before him, unsure what to do next.

“I don’t mind the cold. My land is frigid most days but I felt a true shiver out there on that road. Even Roach could not ease it.”

You watch him, awaiting an order, not so well attuned to conversation. More often than not, a response is not warranted, just action. He gives you little direction though he is a man who easily commands.

“My horse. Stinky steed,” he muses as he keeps his eyes closed, “valiant nonetheless.” He lets out another heavy exhale, “will you mind the door? Wake me when the bishop arrives should I doze?”

“As you wish, your highness,” you go to the door, taking your usual stance beside it.

He is still. The amber light of the lantern limns his large figure as he reclines in the stiff chair. He does not move but a man who has ridden to war has slept on worse. You cannot tell if he truly slumbers but you know it is not appropriate to stare.

You remain in silence. It isn’t so bad to the duchess and her daughter. Almost serene if not for the tension of the man’s presence. A king. A wintry figure with his icy hair and colder demeanour. You do not envy Jazlene, he will be a rigid husband. She will not bowl him over as her mother does the duke.

You listen beyond the walls, trying to track the activity beyond. There are softer voices you can’t make out, creaks which could be only the wind, and footfalls which are most certainly only servants about their tasks. The tedium stretches on as the lantern light wobbles.

You stare at the wall opposite. The summer hue breezes in with a hint of pollen between the open curtains. Still the chamber remains dim in stone and mortar.

There is the crank of the gates and you shift. You turn your head to hear better the entry of a new party. A man’s tenor from below assures you of the arrival. You wait until the footfalls reach the stairs. You do not relish waking the king should he have managed to sleep.

You look to the king in the chair but find him alert. His eyes are centered on you as he sits straight, golden irises blazing. You gulp and shy away.

“I believe the bishop has come, your highness.”

He doesn’t speak or move. He just watches you. His gaze bores until it burns. You fear you might have strayed somehow.

Finally, he slides to the edge of the chair and stands. He does not seem eager as he makes slow progress towards the door. As he crosses the room, he stops, just before the door, right beside you.

“A war for a wife,” he mutters, “a barter, I suppose.” He reaches for the metal loop on the door, “come, little maid, we might need a pillow should the lady faint again.”

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #the witcher #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #winter's king #medieval au

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gooddaysmeanwritingdays · 4 months

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Hopelessly in Love with You

Pairings: Steven Grant x gn!Reader, Marc Spector x gn!Reader, Jake Lockley x gn!Reader Summary: Even after all these decades you’re still head over heels in love with your husbands. And sometimes you can’t help but say it out loud. Warnings: Absolutely none. Just fluff—so much fluff! Word Count: 2805 word count A/N: I saw a facebook post about a woman saying that even after like a decade, she still got butterflies and stuff when she was around her husband, and so that’s what prompted this.

This is technically in my Falling For Them series, but can be read separately. This was just something I wrote at 4 in the morning because I could. It was originally just Steven, but then I found it again 18 months later and decided to add more. So here it is

“I am in love with you.”

Your husband looked up, his beautiful brown eyes blinking owlishly behind his glasses. You hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but when you’d looked up at him across the room, it was like all the air had rushed from your lungs.

Steven blinked again, his smile a little bewildered and soft as he said, “Well, that’s good, love. What with us being married and all.”

It was a Wednesday afternoon and you were both doing your own thing. It wasn’t a particularly spectacular Wednesday afternoon—it wasn’t your anniversary or anyone’s birthday. You were spread out across the floor working on your novel and Steven was at his desk going over his notes for the new museum exhibit.

But when you’d looked up to ask him about—hell, you couldn’t even remember what—you were hit with such a powerful wave of ‘Oh gods I am so in love with you’ that you could barely breathe.

It had been thirty-two years since you’d said “I do” and you were still so much in love with him. And some days it would just hit you like that. Like a cannonball to the face that you were in love with these men, and they loved you back. It was the giddiest feeling in the world.

You stood up, stepping over the papers that had seemingly exploded around you, and headed to Steven. His arms were already open to you as you scrambled awkwardly into his lap. It wasn’t nearly as easy as it had been in your twenties, but it made him chuckle slightly and you got there eventually.

“No. You don’t understand,” you whispered solemnly, cupping his cheeks in your palms. “I am madly in love with you.”

His face burst into a beautiful smile as his arms came around your waist. “I am madly in love with you too,” he whispered, leaning up to kiss you.

Kissing Steven was like fireworks and slow dancing. The decades since you’d met hadn’t diminished the fire his touch sent racing through you. Every brush of his lips against yours had your heart racing and your soul singing. You tipped his head back to deepen the kiss, suddenly desperate for more, and his moan sent shivers through you. Your hands slipped into his hair and his slipped under your shirt.

Gods, I could do this all day.

You pulled back a fraction, just enough to rest your forehead on his as you both caught your breath.

“If that was your proof, love, I may need some more evidence,” he teased. His thumbs drew circles on the skin under your shirt.

You grinned, closing your eyes at his touch and he pressed a soft kiss to the corner of your lips. He lit a fire along your skin as he grazed his lips along your jaw to your pulse point.

“Thirty-two years and you still make me feel like every kiss is our first kiss,” you whispered as he traced circles into your skin with reverential tenderness. You pulled one of his hands from your waist to over your heart where you could both feel it pounding away. “You make my heart race every time you look at me.” You brought his hand up to cup your cheek. “I feel like my face is going to break with how much I smile just thinking about you.” You move his hand to our stomach. “And I still get butterflies every time I wake up next to you in the morning.”

Steven looked up at you like you were his reason for living. He looked at you like you’d taken all the air from his lungs and were filling them with pure oxygen.

You leaned forward to trace his lips with yours. “Kissing you is like I’m learning to breathe all over again.” You couldn’t help your smile as you pulled back slightly. “It’s like I’m back at the start, falling for you all over again. And it is as easy as it was back then.”

There was a shine to his eyes and he held you close as you placed soft kisses along the backs of his eyelids.

“Except it’s better,” he said when he could finally speak. “It’s so much better than the beginning.” He cupped your cheek with a holy reverence like he still couldn’t believe you were real. “I don’t have to pretend like I don’t want to spend every second of my life kissing you. I don’t have to live with my imagination of what a future with you would be like.” His kiss was so unbearably soft you wanted to stay there forever. “I get to wake up every morning knowing you’re beside me. I get to tell you every day how much I love you. I get to be your husband.”

Even after all these years the word still made butterflies erupt in your soul, and you could tell in the way his heart fluttered underneath your hand that it was the same for him.

“Falling in love with you for the first time was breathtaking, but being married to you—it’s a dream come true.”

You just had to kiss him again for that.

You pulled back and settled into his arms, content to never move again. Steven shifted you slightly so he was comfortable and returned to his work on the exhibit.

But eventually, your body made its complaints known and you had to move. You weren’t a spring chicken anymore and as delightful as it was to sit on your husband’s lap all day, you needed to move to a comfier spot for that to work. You tugged him after you, determined not to do anymore work, and headed to the couch. Today was officially now a cuddle day.

“Also, it’s been thirty-two years, four months and seventeen days.” He shrugged when your eyebrows shot up. “Jake’s been counting.”

“Well,” you leaned in for another kiss. “Here’s to another twenty-two years, four months, seventeen days. And forever.”

“Forever,” Steven breathed, wrapping you in his arms.

~~~

He looked so soft in the mornings. Like he’d never worried about anything in his life.

You’d both been awake for a few hours now, but it was Saturday and you didn’t need to get out of bed at all if you didn’t want to. And lying next to your husband, you never wanted to move again.

“You’re staring,” Marc murmured, eyes still closed.

You reached out to trace his nose, softly following the path to his cheeks, his jaw, his eyelids. He kissed the tip of your finger when it passed his lips, and you died at the cuteness.

“I can’t help it,” you said, biting your lip at how damn cute he was. “I am so in love with you.”

Under your finger his lips curled into that gorgeous smile you adored so dearly. “I love you too, baby.”

You huffed out an exasperated sigh and shuffled closer. “No,” you said like he was being deliberately obtuse. You rolled both of you so you were on top of him, straddling him. Marc snorted, still grinning as his hands came up to hold you in place. He didn’t open his eyes. “I am in love with you.”

“Ah.” He nodded like he finally understood. You poked him in the chest and he pressed his lips together to keep back a laugh. “Of course. My mistake.”

He still hadn’t opened his eyes and you knew he was doing it just to be stubborn, so you leaned forward to kiss his eyelids. When that didn’t work, you pressed a line of soft kisses down his nose, mouth, chin, along his jaw and to his ear—right where you knew he was ticklish.

He huffed a laugh and finally opened his eyes. “What are you doing?” he asked, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

Your heart fluttered. Gods, you loved those eye crinkles. Your boys hadn’t had them when you’d met them. They hadn’t had much to laugh about back then, but over the years their laugh lines had deepened. And boy did you adore them. They were a sign of your darlings growing as people, and letting themselves be comfortable again.

They were no longer ‘Moon Knight’ anymore, and it was mornings like these that were a reminder of that. They were all yours. You didn’t have to worry about losing them, nor did they ever have to worry about you getting hurt because of them.

You were safe. All of you.

And it was because of that safety your darlings could have laugh lines and lazy Saturday mornings with you.

It was like Steven had said. Falling in love with them had been amazing, but being married was a million times better. You wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.

You shrugged helplessly, almost too overcome for words. “I really am just so in love with you.”

Marc melted at that. His grin softened into an adoring smile, and his hands came up to cradle your face. His thumb traced your cheek and you melted into his touch. The look in his eyes reminded you of the day he said “I do”, and of that night, and every day since.

“I am absolutely in love with you too.” He pulled you closer to brush his lips against yours. “Every day I think I can’t possibly be more in love with you. But then the sun rises and I can’t breathe with how much more I love you.”

You started at the unexpected poetry from your normally close-lipped husband. It wasn’t the first time he’d blown you away with his words, but just like always, you never expected it. You buried your face in his neck, cheeks aflame and heart racing. “You are impossible!”

His laugh rumbled through his chest as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you tighter against him. “I learnt from the best,” he agreed, planting an adoring kiss on the side of your head.

~~~

Jake was pouting. Every time you’d look over at him, he’d poke his bottom lip out and turn away, arms crossed. And every time you asked him what was wrong he’d just pout harder. He’d been like this all day and you were starting to wonder if this was a prank. Or if maybe you really had upset him.

So finally you cornered him in the bathroom when he was hunched over cleaning out the cupboards. You stood in front of the door and raised an eyebrow at his back. He couldn’t escape now.

He stood slowly, eyeing you and his blocked escape before he eyed the window too. But when he looked back at your narrowed eyes he knew he was pushing his luck so he just pouted. Again. With those damn puppy dog eyes.

Gods, he’s killing me. And he knew it too. He knew what that look did to you. He’d seen you cave to Steven with it enough that he knew it was your weakness. All your darlings knew how to use it on you, but Jake wasn’t getting away with it today.

“I don’t think so.” You took a step closer. “You’ve been pouting at me all day.” You closed the door. “And every time I ask you what’s wrong, you pout even more.” You stalked towards him until his back was against the wall and you were toe-to-toe. “So tell me. What. Is. Wrong?”

Jake looked away, his chin tipped up so he was staring at the ceiling and resolutely avoiding your eyes.

“Jake Lockley,” you warned.

Your patience was wearing thin. You’d already ruled out this being a joke or a prank, and now you were left with him being upset over something you’d done. And it was exactly like Jake to avoid an issue upsetting him until it went away. If Marc or Steven were upset, all hell broke loose, but Jake? No, he’d let that simmer until he had an ulcer.

And even after all these years, that was something you hadn’t helped him work through entirely. Hence today’s issue.

You raised an eyebrow when he still hadn’t said anything.

“You haven’t said it to me,” he finally muttered, pouting harder.

You reached out to put your fingers to his chin, tilting his face back down to yours. “Haven’t said what, baby?”

He avoided your eyes so you stepped even closer so you were all he could see, and finally he blurted, “You haven’t said you’re in love with me.”

You frowned a little. “What do you mean? I say it all the time.”

And you did. Every chance you could you’d tell your boys how much you loved them. You’d both gone through points in your lives where you thought no one loved you, so all four of you had made it a point to say it every chance you could.

Hell, you had even instituted a system where three taps meant ‘I love you’ so you could all say it whenever you felt it, all without saying it.

But Jake was shaking his head, pouting even harder as he forced himself to look away. “No, not like that. Not like you said to Steven and Marc. Not like that.”

Oh. He was talking about yesterday with Marc and last week with Steven, where you’d been so in love with your husbands you couldn’t help but tell them.

Oh, baby. Your other hand came up to cup his face, ducking your head so he could look at you and your heart skipped at the emotion in his eyes.

He was jealous.

You bit your lip to keep from grinning at how cute he looked. You hadn’t seen it before because you’d been focused on other things, but when Jake pouted…

Gods, you loved that look. You wanted to make him pout like that all the time. Maybe you could get him to look like that next time you were in bed. Make him beg a little…

You shivered at the delight that brought, and his eyes lit up a little at the movement.

Stop it. Now’s not the time.

You reached up to cup his cheeks and you knew there would never be a moment in your life where you weren’t in love with this gorgeous man. “Falling in love with you was inevitable,” you whispered, echoing the words of your vow all those years ago. “There has never been a moment where I haven’t been absolutely head over heels in love with you, Jake Lockley.”

“Yeah?” He gave you a small smile, and you knew he was lapping up your words, just like he did every time.

It had broken your heart when you’d learned that of all of them, Jake had been loved the least. That not once in his life had anyone told him that they loved him. From then on you’d made it your mission to tell him so often that he would never doubt his worth ever again.

“Yeah, baby.” A smile escaped your lips and your eyes creased with how much you adored him. “Sometimes it just hits me how much I love you. Before I met you I didn’t realise I could love someone this much, and then I fell in love with you and—” you shrugged helplessly. “I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you.”

Jake’s smile bloomed into a grin that had his eyes crinkling and his cheeks blushing. “Good.”

Before you could react, he wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted up into the air. You shrieked, laughing, and clutched his shoulders to keep from falling. Even as old age crept into the bones of your darlings, they still surprised you with how much they could still do.

He spun you around before setting you back on your feet, your back against the wall. He leaned in, trapping you against him as he curled a hand against your cheek. His nose brushed against yours and he was grinning so hard you knew his cheeks were aching. Just like yours.

You arched into him, biting your lip as his thumb traced your cheekbone.

“Tell me again,” he murmured, brushing his nose against yours in just the way he knew drove you crazy.

Your heart pounded, and you wanted to bury your face into his chest to hide the blush burning across your cheeks, but you knew nothing but the truth would save you. So, you took a handful of his shirt and pulled him even closer. Then, with a brush of your lips against his, you said, “I am madly, deeply, inevitably and hopelessly in love with you, Jake Lockley.”

He snickered. “Gross,” like he wasn’t entirely head over heels for you too, and pulled you in for a searing kiss. “But me too.”

A/N: Reblogs, comments and likes give me the dopamine to keep writing, so if you liked this oneshot,

Let me know what you think 💖

And if you want more like this, follow me here or on AO3 (or both)

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guinea-pig16 · 1 year

Text

Late Night || Part 1

Glamrock Freddy x Reader

Disclaimer: This is an NSFW piece! 18+ only, please!

Fic is below the cut! Please enjoy! This is my first ever written fiction as well as nsfw, so I hope you like it!

Part 2 is now out! Read here!

Part 3 is out now! Read here!

Part 4 is out now! Read here!

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Word Count: 4,100+

Warnings: slow burn (takes a bit to get to the actual smut) AFAB reader, slight dom/sub vibes, usage of pet names (once), praises, awkwardness, handjob, oral sex (male receiving), gagging, a bit of pining

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Late.

That’s the only thought that went through your mind at this point.

It was late. The shitty Fazbear brand digital clock you had sitting on your desk read 1:02 AM. You didn’t mean to stay this late, but when you came in for your afternoon shift at 5 today, everything in the entire PizzaPlex decided to break. As the singular mechanic/engineer that day, you got stuck fixing every arcade machine, photo booth, and any and everything that croaked throughout the day. And after doing all that, you still had to do the required monthly maintenance on the star animatronics of the PizzaPlex. It’s not that you minded working with them, that's what you went to school to do! It’s just tedious and takes longer than needed because of all their parts. Though, you could hardly call the job dull when you had such fun ‘coworkers’.

Chica was in general fun to be around, bubbly as can be with plenty of silly gossip to chat about. Roxy really just talks about herself and tries to get you to change her hair color, nails, accessories, etcetera, claiming it will make her even cooler. Monty enjoys suggestive humor that will either have you doubled over with stitches or so horrible that it’ll have you kicking him out of your workshop faster than he can say “rock n’ roll”.

And then there's Freddy… The face of Fazbear Entertainment. He was the whole reason you decided to go into robotics. Your first day on the job he immediately made you feel at home, with his warm smile and caring attitude. The two of you had clicked the moment you began talking. As soon as you walk through the doors at the beginning of your shift, he was by your side, asking about your day, eagerly listening to your stories, and nodding empathically to your complaints. It felt as though Freddy and you had known one another for years.

Your checkups with him always ended up being hours longer than normal, the two of you laughing and talking about who knows what. You had to admit, recently being around Freddy has made your heart flutter, your cheeks flush, and your stomach fill with butterflies. You’d felt this way before with others, but never to the degree you do with him. But it’d never work out. He was an animatronic. You highly doubted he could even feel the same way. You didn’t want to find out and risk getting hurt, so you were content with the way things are, being his friend and mechanic.

You tiredly replaced your tools from the checkup with Monty, his laughter after you kicked him out still ringing in your ears. The bastard got on your nerves faster than usual thanks to your tired state, so as soon as you gave him the green light for ‘all good’ you shoved his metal ass out of Parts and Service with the promise of replacing his voice box with a squeaky toy if he continued messing with you.

You huffed a laugh as you recalled one of his quips as you checked your to-do list. Your eyes lit up and heart fluttered as you saw the last thing on your list.

Routine Maintenance on Freddy Fazbear

“Superstar! How wonderful to see you! Monty let me know you were ready! I thought I would save you the trouble of calling for me.”

Speak of the devil, You thought as you turned with a smile.

Freddy beamed at you as he walked through the door and stood patiently next to the entrance of the ‘operating cylinder’, hands behind his back.

“Hey Fredster, just gimme a sec and we’ll get started.”

He gave you a polite nod and smile. You grabbed your tool kit (decorated with various stickers Chica had slapped on without you knowing), and a worn-out rolly chair to sit on while working. You rolled the chair in front of the cylinder door and quickly punched in the entry code on the computer next to the door.

The door slid open and Hand-Unit welcomed you for the 3rd time tonight. “After you.” You said as you bowed deeply and gestured to the interior of the cylinder.

Freddy let out a chuckle and walked in and sat on the maintenance table, you following with your rolly chair and tool kit. Freddy turned to you and opened his mouth to speak, but then immediately frowned as he properly looked at your face.

“My goodness superstar, you look exhausted! Are you alright? Have you been getting enough sleep?” He said, concerned. His hand twitched towards you as if he’d reach for your face. You wrote it off as a minor movement glitch.

You shrugged and sat your tool kit on a table next to Freddy and sat down on your chair. “Ah, I’m fine. I just had a lot to do today, no biggie!” You smiled at him.

He didn’t look too convinced and opened his mouth once more, most likely to scold you for not taking care of yourself, when you cut him off. “Hey, how’d you run into Monty so fast? He’d hardly been gone 2 minutes before you showed up?”

Freddy froze a moment and looked as though he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Ah… well… I just so happened to be… taking a stroll nearby…” He twiddled his thumbs a bit and looked to the side.

Cute, You thought as you chuckled and opened your toolkit. “Yeah, suuuure… Freddy Fazbear taking a midnight stroll next to Parts and Service. I believe it.” You turned back to Freddy, who seemed to be very interested in the floor. “Right, let’s get started. Lay down for me and I’ll check your chest compartment.”

Freddy obliged and as soon as he seemed settled, you took one of your tools and gently pried open his chest plate. You began to inspect his gears, wires, etcetera. As you worked, a comfortable silence fell upon the two of you as you focused.

“I apologize for interrupting your focus, but I have been wondering something.” Freddy asked out of the blue. You hummed in response and moved to look him in the eyes. Freddy was already looking at you, causing your heart to skip a beat.

“Monty said you had kicked him out? I was curious to know what he did to cause you to take such measures.” You grinned and let out a laugh as you turned back to his chest cavity.

“Hah! Ahh, the jerk was getting on my nerves. As you can see, I’m pretty tired, so I wasn’t necessarily in the mood for him. Monty, of course, took notice of that, and decided it’d be a great time to start flirting and making dirty jokes. He kept saying crap like ‘he knew something that’d perk me right up’, while gesturing to his crotch.” You glanced at Freddy’s face and saw he looked a bit… upset? “Ah, don’t worry! He wasn’t making me uncomfortable, I thought it was pretty funny, I just wasn’t in the mood for his shit. Besides… it’s not like he even has a dick to begin with…” You trail off as you see a loose wire in his chest. As you fix it, Freddy remains quiet for a moment.

“We do have one. If you were… wondering…” Freddy says after a couple minutes of silence.

You freeze a moment, allowing Freddy’s words to properly process. Slowly, you lean back from his chest cavity in order to properly look at him, disbelief covering your face.

“What.”

Freddy is now looking anywhere but you. You swear, if animatronics could blush, he would be beet red. You can hear his internal fan kick in.

“Freddy. You guys have a… No. No way. You’re just messing with me.” You say, still in disbelief, as you close up his chest plate so you can more properly speak with him.

He sits up and rests on his forearms, still avoiding eye contact. “...We do have one… Well, at least Monty and I do. I am unsure about Chica and Roxanne, I have not asked, as it is rather… inappropriate.” He appears even more nervous and embarrassed now.

You are still in shock. Freddy and Monty, have dicks. There’s no fucking way. Before and after you got this position you poured over all the animatronics’ blueprints, maintenance logs, watched all the shittily made mechanic videos the higher-ups gave you, nothing said they even have the capability of having a penis. As you process this new revelation, some impure thoughts begin to arise…

FREDDY HAS A DICK. Oh my fucking God. Who the fuck thought of giving him one? …I wonder how big it is- SHUT UP OH MY GOD. This isn’t real, oh my God. He has to be joking, he passed by Monty, he must’ve set him up for this joke. No, that isn’t like Freddy to go along with a joke like this… I wonder if he’s touched himself before- I NEED TO STOP OH MY GOD HE’S LITERALLY SITTING RIGHT THERE. He’s my friend I need to stop- You’re suddenly shaken from your frantic thoughts by a large hand on your shoulder.

You jump slightly, a faint blush dusted across your cheeks. You look Freddy in the eyes, who appears even more embarrassed, and a bit regretful.

“I am terribly sorry Y/N, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. I just… I am terribly sorry… Please forgive me.” He said, moving his hand from your shoulder to rest it on your hand. “I… I hope this doesn’t ruin our friendship.”

Hearing that, you quickly hold his hand with both hands. “No! No no no! You didn’t make me uncomfortable! I just… I-I didn’t think it was even possible for you guys to have one! I mean, I’ve looked over your blueprints hundreds of times, reviewed every single maintenance log, everything! And nothing said anything about you having a, uh, penis…” You break eye contact to look at the ground, unable to look him in the eye, your face growing ever more red.

“W-Well fantastic superstar! I was worried for a moment that I had scared you away, haha…!” Freddy said, gently holding your hands, also avoiding eye contact.

A moment of awkward silence ensues, the only sound heard being your beating heart and his cooling fan frantically whirring.

“Can… Can I see it…?” You say quietly, slightly hoping he wouldn’t hear you (which is stupid, since he can pick up the tiniest sounds).

His head whips to face you so fast you worry for a moment he’d break something. His eyes burn into yours as you hear his cooling fan kick up a notch.

God, why’d you have to say something?

“You- you what? You want to… see my…?” Freddy stutters. If he were a person, you swear he’d be sweating by now.

“Sorry! Sorry, I don’t know why I asked that! I’m just…” God how do you even respond to that!? You just asked if you could see his dick! Family-friendly Freddy Fazbear! Your friend! You want to sink into the ground right now. Your face is on fire now. Maybe you’ve gone delirious because of how tired you are.

A moment of silence passes, again, as Freddy stares at you and you stare anywhere but him.

“Alright.” Now it’s your turn to whip your head to look at him. Freddy appears more relaxed now, although still sheepish.

“Uh… really? Y-You don’t have to-”

“I don’t mind. Besides, this is all a part of the… checkup, right?” He says, his eyes twinkling with something as he looks at you, a small smile on his face.

You swallow a bit, heart fluttering with anticipation. “...Right. Right, yeah, of course!”

Freddy removes his hand from your grasp and sits up fully now. You hear a small latch sound and look toward his pelvis to see the plate there slide to the side to reveal what's beneath. With fascination and nervousness, you watch as a rounded cylindrical object rises from his pelvis. It’s quite large, maybe 7 inches tall, and wide. It’s plain orange, with a red tip.

You stare at it in fascination and awe.

Who the fuck decided to give Freddy a big dick?

You look back at Freddy, who appears nervous again. “...May I… touch it…?” You ask, a bit more confidently now.

Freddy’s eyes shoot to yours, and you swear you saw him shudder for a split second. He nods silently, intently watching your every movement.

Tearing your eyes away from Freddy, you move one of your hands to his… manhood? Honestly, you’re not entirely sure what to call it. Your fingers gently run up his cock to the tip. Freddy shivers more noticeably now, and slightly opens his mouth.

It feels smooth and soft. If you had to guess it, it’s made from a type of silicone. You wrap a hand around the base of it, and squeeze slightly to try and get more of a feel of how it’s made. Freddy jolts a bit and lets out a breath, his eyes lidded and looking at you.

“S-Sorry… did that hurt…?” You stutter out, worried you’d caused him discomfort.

Freddy quickly shakes his head no, his cooling fans whirring loudly. “Please… keep going…” He mumbles, gazing at you.

You flush more, and then begin gently running your hand up and down his cock. Freddy never breaks eye contact with you, his eyes half-closed now. His breath becomes labored and he grips the table.

“...Faster… please…” He says quietly. You shiver hearing him sound so… needy. You decide you’d like to have a bit more… fun.

You smile sweetly at Freddy. “I’m sorry Freddy… I didn’t quite hear that… Could you say it again?” Your hand comes to a halt, and Freddy whines at the loss of friction.

“...Please… Go faster, Y/N…” He pleads, staring at you with lustful eyes. Your face flushes a deeper red as you smile.

“...Good boy…” He lets out a small moan when you call him that, the sound going straight to your core. You rub his cock faster, causing Freddy to let out small groans and grip the table even harder.

As you watch him moan and twitch under your grasp, an idea forms in your head. You smirk and stop all movement, causing Freddy and whine and look at you.

“...Why did you stop…?” He pants.

“Oh, I just… have a better idea… If you don’t mind me trying it, that is.” You say, moving your head closer to his cock.

You blush harder under his intense gaze. You hesitantly, stick your tongue out and lick the tip of his cock.

At this small action, his whole body jolts and he lets loose groan. You smile, and then run your tongue up and down his cock. He grips the table so hard you know there will be dents later.

“Superstar… you’re, ah- making me feel so… good- ah!” He moans as you begin to put his cock in your mouth. He fully lays back on the table, moaning at every bob of your head.

Because of his size, you’re unable to fit all of him in your mouth, so using one of your hands you cover the part you’re unable to fit. You start slowly, bobbing your head up and down, enjoying the sounds of Freddy groaning. You then begin to quicken your pace, going slightly faster and faster, his moans becoming more frequent as he leans up to gaze at you.

Then, you accidentally take him in too far, causing you to gag a bit. Hearing this, it’s almost as if a switch has been flipped. Freddy’s hands fly to your head and force you to bob your head at a much faster pace than what you had been previously doing. You grip onto the side of the table to avoid tumbling out of your chair from the motion.

Freddy moans loudly and pants, his internal fan whirring as fast as it possibly can.

“Hah- Look at you my, hah, superstar… You’re doing so good, mmh! Doing so good for me…” Freddy tosses his head back and lets out a loud groan. “You look so, ah- beautiful like this! You’re so, hah… wonderful…” You moan slightly, hearing his praises, your core fluttering in excitement. Freddy bucks his hips upwards upon feeling the vibration, causing you to gag again.

“S-Sorry… Ah, D-Didn’t… mean to, hah!” He apologizes, one of his hands tangled through your hair caresses your cheek gently.

Freddy is now hunched over your head, bobbing it up and down on his cock like his own fuck toy, not that you mind… Every moan he lets out arouses you more and more.

His pace quickens, and his moans get faster and louder. His hands grip your hair slightly tighter. You can feel his cock twitch in your mouth.

“Y/N… Ah! I’m… so cl-close… mmh! Oh Y/N… you- hah! You feel so good!” Freddy cries out, leaning his head back.

You decide to help him out a bit. You scrape your teeth slightly against his shaft, making him cry out the loudest moan yet. He moans your name over and over like a mantra as he bobs your head down once, twice, and then opens his mouth in a silent yell.

Nothing comes out of his cock, but you feel it twitch. Freddy gently lets go of your head and collapses back on the table, panting. You pull off his shaft with a slight pop, also panting. Your face is beet red, with some small tears running from your eyes, as well as some saliva dripping from your mouth. You slowly wipe your face with your sleeve as you reflect on what you two just did.

“Y/N… that was… incredible…” says Freddy, as he sits up once more. You blush and smile.

“Yeah… it was really nice…” You rub your thighs together, your core aching a bit with lack of attention. Freddy notices this, and then hesitantly rests his hand on your thigh. You look at him and see him looking at you with kind, slightly lustful, eyes.

“Since you’ve finished your… checkup on me… perhaps I could… help you, if you wish…” He says, looking deeply into your eyes.

“Freddy…” You say, leaning closer to him. He leans in closer as well. The both of you begin to close your eyes as your lips approach his mouth.

Right as you’re about to kiss, a loud alarm blares through the silent room, causing the both of you to jump. You whip your head from Freddy to your desk, where you see your shitty Fazbear clock rattling from the sheer volume of the alarm.

“Ah… right… That’s the um… end of my shift alarm…” You sheepishly say as you turn back to Freddy, who’s put away his, ahem, appendage. He looks a bit sad, but understanding, as he stands up from the table.

You close up your tool kit and place it on your rolly chair. Unlocking the cylinder door, you step through and put your chair and kit back in their respective places, Freddy following behind. You turn off the alarm and read the time.

Jeez, it’s 2:00 already… I didn’t think we were that long… You think as you gather your things, Freddy standing silently on the sidelines.

You turn to him and the two of you just… look at each other. Something feels different between the two of you now. You’ve moved past friendship, but you don’t know where the both of you stand now. You’re certain of your feelings for him now, but you have no clue how he feels. Tonight was already a very big step, and you don’t want to push him any farther. Is this all he wants from me? Or was this a one-time thing? Does he still want to be my friend? Or something more? These thoughts flooded your head as Freddy glanced away and cleared his throat (or more accurately just made that sound).

“You know… it is quite late. I would feel much better if I know you made it out safely… May I escort you to the exit…?” Freddy asked sheepishly as if he hadn’t just used you as a fuck toy.

I huffed a laugh and smiled at him. “I’d love that, actually.” Freddy beamed at you and bent at the waist, offering you his arm to hold. You giggled and interlocked your arm into his and began walking to the exit of the PizzaPlex.

A comfortable silence ensued between the two of you as you made your trip out. You blushed slightly as you thought about what the two of you had done. You leaned slightly into Freddy more, enjoying his warmth and feel. You wished he would hold you like this all the time. As you leaned into him, you could have sworn you felt Freddy hold your arm a little tighter.

God, you were in love with him.

During your walk, all you could think of were his eyes, his laugh, his smile… his moans… the way he looked at you with so much desire. Your heart ached with your want for him, for him to feel the same way… But it could never happen, you convinced yourself.

All too soon, the two of you approached the exit. You both unhooked your arms and stood and looked at each other. You opened your mouth and speak, but Freddy beat you to it.

“I just… I wanted to say… Thank you… For um, what you did for me tonight… It was wonderful…” said Freddy, looking away a moment and twiddling his thumbs.

You smiled at him. “Hey, it was no problem! … And besides… I… Thought it was wonderful too… I really enjoyed it.” You blushed and looked at your feet.

“Well… in that case…” Freddy, then gently held your chin and tilted your face until you were looking directly into his eyes. They were slightly lidded, and he had a soft smile on his face. “Perhaps I could… return the favor sometime… If you would like…” His voice was deeper than usual. You could feel the rumble of it in your chest.

A shiver went down your spine, and your face flushed. “I… Think I’d like that very much… ‘Mr. Fazbear’...” You grinned.

He chuckled quietly and gazed at your face. His eyes wandered from your own, to your nose, to your flushed cheeks, and finally… to your lips, where they stayed.

“...Y/N…” He said quietly. You swallowed slightly. “Yes..?”

“May I… Kiss you…?” He asked, leaning closer slightly.

You let out a breath, and leaned upwards, getting on your tippy toes. “...Yes…” You replied.

Slowly, you both closed your eyes, and met for a soft, gentle kiss. Freddy’s hand moved from your chin to caressing the back of your head, his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. You reached up and wrapped your own arms around his neck.

The kiss was so soft and gentle that it almost brought a tear to your eye. You’ve never felt so warm, so safe, so secure in your entire life. You wished it could have lasted eons.

But, good things never last, and you both unwillingly break apart from the kiss. You both stand there a moment, enjoying being in each other’s grasp, gazing into one another’s eyes.

“Well… I’d better get going… I’ve gotta get some sleep before my next shift.” You say, as you and Freddy separate from each other.

“Ah… yes. Well, I hope you have a wonderful rest of your night, and I hope you sleep well.” Freddy says with a soft smile.

You give him a smile back, and walk towards the door, opening it. Before you fully walk out, you turn back to look at him.

“See you tomorrow Freddy. Goodnight.” You say, giving a small wave. Freddy grins and returns the wave, as you finally step out into the crisp, cool night air.

As you walk towards your car, you’re internally screaming.

OH MY GOD, I KISSED FREDDY! NO WAY! I KISSED FREDDY FAZBEAR! OH MY GOD! This is a dream come true! You think to yourself as your start up your car.

You blush as you remember the… ‘promise’ Freddy made you. You have a feeling your next shift will be one you won't forget.

______________________________________________________________

I hope you liked it! I was a bit nervous about writing this, but thanks to some encouragement from some lovely people and friends I worked up the nerve and did it! I'm pretty proud of my first-ever published fanfic, and will most likely do more in the future!

Also, keep an eye out, you may see a part 2 for this in the future! (;

tagged people:

@dokoni-mo @burn-bunny

#fnaf sb x reader #fnaf x reader #fnaf x y/n #fnaf security breach #fnaf fandom #fnaf sb #fnaf smut #fnaf x you #glamrock freddy #glamrock freddy x reader #glamrock freddy smut #x reader #one shot #fnaf fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfic smut

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toxophilitis · 4 months

Text

Horny Peeping Sister cont

Chapter 4

In the next few afternoons, Becky and Tom spent plenty of time in bed together. They experimented, learning different ways to please themselves and each other. Sometimes they fucked hard, and sometimes they fucked tenderly. But always they fucked with one ear open, ever alert for their mother.

As they grew more comfortable with their new-found sexuality, Becky relaxed enough to confide in her brother her excitement when it came to watching other people fuck. Tom was thrilled—and relieved—that Becky did not hold his voyeuristic tendencies against him. So, each pleased that the other was also erotic-minded, they decided to go out together one night and see what sexy scenes they could discover in their neighborhood.

They devised a plan where Tom would tell their mother that he had to go over to a friend’s house one evening to work on a school project. That same evening, Becky agreed to leave her piano lessons a bit early, telling her teacher she had to get home to help her mother. The plan went off without a hitch and the two met just as it was getting dark in an alley not far from their house.

“We’ll try the house on Guava first,” Tom suggested, leading his sister down the back passageway. “They like to have a quick evening fuck once in a while.”

“You mean you’ve watched them before?” Becky asked, trying to walk quietly.

“Sure! Did you think that I just started, like you?”

“Well, no,” Becky replied. “But I didn’t know you knew so much about what other people do.”

“I don’t really know much at all,” Tom laughed. “I just know who likes to fuck and when—and who doesn’t close their curtains. Now come on!”

They hurried down one block, and up the next. Ahead of her, Becky could see one brightly lit window and she felt her stomach tighten when she realized it was their goal. Tom’s hunch had been right. There were people in that room!

“What’d I tell ya?” Tom giggled. “Those horny sons of bitches can’t keep their hands off each other!”

Brother and sister moved around the trashcans across the alley from the back bedroom window, covering themselves as best they could. Then they crouched down and Becky’s eyes went wide when she got her first good look at two people actually fucking.

“I can’t believe it,” she sighed. “Look at them go! How can she take it?”

“I don’t know,” Tom mumbled. “But I know I can’t. Feel this!”

He took her hand and guided it to the front of his pants. Without taking her eyes off the hot sight in front of her, Becky felt his hard-on pounding against the fly of his jeans. She gave it an absent little squeeze and then let it go. Watching other people fucking was such a tremendous new experience, it took all of her concentration.

Inside the sparsely furnished bedroom, an older man and a very young girl were both naked on the bed. The girl, her face turned slightly away from Becky and Tom, was on her hands and knees and the man was taking her from behind with long, powerful strokes. The short dark curls on the girl’s head bounced when he rammed his cock into her, but she seemed to enjoy it. She held her body taut and absorbed his fucking power by slamming her ass back at him each time he filled her with his cock-meat.

As if from a distance, Becky heard her brother slide his zipper down.

Then she sensed as much as heard him start to stroke his rigid prick.

Becky was getting plenty hot herself. The idea of spying on other people while they fucked had excited her but not nearly as much as actually doing it did. She could feel her cunt getting all soft and squishy and she shifted around, rubbing herself against the crotch seam of her jeans.

“Turns you on, huh?” Tom whispered, his hands moving on his cock while he grinned at his obviously excited sister.

“Yeah,” Becky croaked. “Even more than I thought it would.”

Tom laughed, a low and dirty sound. “You gettin’ wet?” he asked.

Becky didn’t have to answer because her brother reached over and cupped the crotch of her jeans. Becky knew her cunt was very juicy and from the way her brother sighed she knew too that her cunt-cream had soaked the crotch of her pants.

“Runnin’ like a river,” Tom sighed, massaging her wet crotch and feeling it become even wetter.

In her crouched position, Becky opened up her thighs and balanced herself on just her tiptoes. With one hand she held onto a nearby trashcan to keep from falling. She pushed her cunt back against her brother’s groping hand and began to pant, his fingers thrilling her even through the covering of denim.

“Wait a minute,” she finally sighed, pulling away from Tom.

His hand again free, Tom went back to jacking on his cock while Becky quickly popped the snap of her jeans and stood up just long enough to pull them and her panties down around her ankles. Then she crouched back down beside him, her naked cunt giving off an odor in the night air.

“Yeahhh,” Tom sighed, guiding her one hand to his prick and then going back to work on her pussy, “this is gonna work out just fine.”

Becky whimpered her agreement as her fingers closed around the swollen shaft of his prick and his hand pressed against her steaming cunt. She felt a gob of her pussy-juice ooze out and smear his palm.

Tom’s cock was cool against her fingers, but after just a few quick strokes, it grew hotter and straighter than ever. She glanced down at it briefly and noticed the sexy way that it stuck out from the open crotch of his pants. Then her eyes flicked back to the horny couple in the bedroom.

The young girl, Becky was sure that she was even younger than she was herself, was down on her elbows with the man still giving it to her from behind. Her back was arched sharply and her naked ass quivered each time she took all of his prick-meat. Sometimes her face was pressed down against her arms and sometimes she tossed it back, rolling it around on her shoulders when she particularly liked the way the older man fucked her.

The man wore an expression of dominance and ecstasy. He gripped the girl around the waist, his fingers nearly reaching all the way around her. As he fucked into her with all his strength, he also pulled her toward him, making sure she got all the cock-meat there was to be had. From time to time he held her ass pressed against the base of his prick and rolled his hips from side to side, wiggling his prick around in the depths of the girl’s speared cunt-channel.

“Incredible,” Becky sighed, her fingers automatically running up and down the length of her brother’s cock. “In-fuckin’-credible.”

Tom gave another dirty laugh and then jabbed his sister’s cunt with two fingers. Her pussy gripped his fingers very tightly. When he pulled them out, they were slick with her juices, and he smeared those juices across the exposed point of her thrusting clit.

Becky gasped and gave his prick a squeeze of appreciation. She was still very turned on by watching other people fucking, but as she got more used to the idea, found it easier to do two things at once, namely watching them and jerking her brother off.

She rubbed the pearl of pre-cum that she knew without even looking was at the tip of his cock around his straining prick-tip and listened with satisfaction as he sighed in pleasure. Then she gripped his cock tightly and worked the loose outer skin back and up over the solid inner core, feeling her crouching brother wriggling with mounting fuck-lust.

“That feels great,” he panted. “Do you like what I’m doing to your pussy?”

“Y-yess,” Becky sighed, thrusting her pelvis out and opening her cunt up. “Fuck me!”

Becky spoke through gritted teeth, and Tom did as she asked. He pushed his fucking fingers deep inside of her and then opened them up like a pair of scissors, forcing them against the walls of her pussy.

“Oooh,” she gasped, feeling as if he was stretching the shape of her cunt-hole.

In retaliation she took her hand away from his cock long enough to coat it with a pearly layer of spit. Then, her eyes still on the fucking couple, she smeared the tip of his prick with her wetness and proceeded to smooth the lubricant all down the sides of his prick.

“Ahhh,” Tom moaned, “yeahhh.”

Becky’s hand moved faster and smoother than ever now with the layer of spit between it and the loose skin of Tom’s hard-on. She relaxed her wrist and beat his meat just as he had taught her during their few but furious days of fucking.

As she massaged his cock, she made sure that her fingertips stayed against the sensitive vein that ran the length of his prick-shaft. Becky didn’t understand why but her brother was extra-sensitive on that spot and so she massaged it, wanting to please him as much as possible.

Above her own panting she could hear her brother’s loud breathing. They were turning each other on with their hands and fingers, making their young fuck-parts hum with arousal. Becky had never dreamed that anything could feel so good as fingering her brother while he fingered her and they both spied on another couple fucking.

Inside the house the young girl that now making push-up motions with her arms. Sometimes her upper body was flat against the rumpled bed, her small tits squished beneath her. Other times she held herself up, her back straight, her tits pointing downward, two pink cones of flesh. But whatever she did seemed to excite the man more, and he fucked her with quicker strokes than ever, jarring her with his fucking prick.

Becky found herself moving with the same rhythm as the girl who was getting fucked. As the girl took the man’s cock, Becky rocked forward and back, helping her brother fuck her with his pointed fingers. The night air was cool against the soft skin of Becky’s bare legs, but up toward her crotch she was as hot as a pistol.

With one hand tight around her brother’s prick and the other bracing her up against the trashcan, Becky could move only a little. But even that small bit of motion was enough in this sexy setting. She watched the man move his hands from the girl’s waist to the soft cheeks of her ass. His fingers dug into her pliant flesh and the girl opened her mouth, obviously crying out in pleasure and pain. She wiggled her ass in the man’s grip and Becky felt her own pussy lurch. It was the most erotic thing she had ever witnessed, even better than the sexy photos that she and Vicky had shared.

Although he was an experienced voyeur and had watched this particular couple fucking before, tonight seemed special to Tom, too. His dark head bobbed as he jammed his fingers into his sister’s pussy and moved with her hand, helping it jack him off. Her cunt-juice felt oily as it filled his hand and ran down to his wrist. How he wished he could fuck Becky right now just like the man in the house was fucking the young girl. Who was she? Tom wondered. Was she his daughter, or maybe his daughter’s friend, or maybe a babysitter? Tom’s horny mind went wild with the possibilities, and he fucked Becky’s cunt with his hand all that much better.

Becky rocked from side to side, making Tom’s fingers move more inside of her. Sometimes he gouged at the soft inner tissues of her pussy with his fingernails and it hurt her a little bit. But her soothing juices and his usually satisfying finger-fucking were quick to ease her pain and she thrust out to meet him, her cunt sucking around his jamming digits.

“Think she’s his kid?” Tom panted, his mouth very near to his sister’s ear. The question caught Becky off guard, and she only moaned in response.

“She can’t be his wife, do you think? She doesn’t look that old, and I can’t see any ring,” Tom continued, his hips thrusting up through the circle of Becky’s fingers as he spoke.

Becky moaned.

“Do you know her?” he asked, quickly looking over at Becky’s flushed face.

Becky absently shook her head.

Tom grinned when he saw how hot she was. Her whole face was distorted with passion and her tongue hung out the corner of her mouth. It was no wonder she couldn’t answer him, the boy realized.

“You’re almost there, huh?” he asked, his laughing eyes now trained on Becky.

“Uh-huh,” she gasped, her eyes rolling back in her head as he rubbed his greasy fingers across her clit.

“Then let’s go!”

Becky almost lost her delicate balance as her brother tore into her cunt with a new kind of frenzy. His fingers, now three of them, filled the mouth of her cunt completely and he let them fly in and out of the fluttering opening. Then, to further her pleasant torture, he began to revolve his thumb over her clit while he fucked her with his other fingers.

“Oh Tom!” she gasped as her fingers, too, increased their speed up and down the shaft of his prick.

For many minutes the two teenagers pounded each other like never before. Becky bit her bottom lip with the power of her efforts and Tom panted like a stallion, his balls rolling around until they slipped from the confines of his jeans and dangled in the night air. As Becky pumped his prick, his balls began to dance, jerked and jarred by her violent fucking motions.

Their eyes grew wider and wider as it became apparent that the man in the house was about to come. His fucking strokes became frantic and then he jammed his cock into the girl completely and bent forward, over her back, gripping her hanging tits and hugging her to him. Becky and Tom could see the way his ass twitched and they each imagined the thick stream of jism that he was depositing far up inside the young girl.

Tom’s prick vibrated in his sister’s hand as he watched the little brunette grind her parted ass-cheeks against the base of the man’s creaming cock. Her cheek was against the bed and her back sloped upward to meet the man’s hairy belly. Her ass twitched back and forth just a little bit, wringing the last of his come from his beefy balls.

Becky slammed her hand from the base of his prick-head to the root of his cock, holding his shaft tightly in her sweaty hand. Tom jerked his hips too, and together they brought him off just as the man in the house began to stir, picking himself up off the back of the kneeling girl.

“Yeah, Beckkky!” he gasped, keeping his voice low. “Uhhh!”

Becky’s hand jacked furiously on his spewing prick and his cream flew off in every direction. Becky took a few drops of it against her jacking hand and a few more on her bare legs and the side of one cheek. She stuck her tongue out and tried to lick away the bits of his cream that dotted her face.

As he came, Tom let his fingers slack off in their fucking of her. But his come was a quick one and before the man had even pulled his cream-soaked cock from the cunt of the young girl, Tom’s moment had passed and he again focused his efforts on bringing off his sister.

Becky had been so close for so long that it didn’t take much for Tom to fuck her climax right out of her. Of course, he had some help as Becky watched the large older man coax the girl down onto her back and then fall between her splayed thighs to lick up his own cream.

“Oh fuck!” Becky gasped, the combination too much for her. “Here I come!”

“Do it baby, yeah!”

As much as he wanted to see the old man eating the young girl, Tom wanted to watch his sister come even more. Now, in the subdued light, he saw her face contort and her eyes roll as he felt her pussy dance around his embedded fingers. He kept his hand moving and it slid around in her juicy, climaxing cunt, instantly making the boy’s cock hard as a rock again.

Becky sighed and moaned, her knees waving apart and together around her brother’s pumping hand. The knuckles of the hand that gripped the trashcan went white with the effort as Becky swooned with pleasure and satisfaction. Her cunt pulsed with her climax, one moment feeling very taut and the next very loose and open. Tom kept fucking her until the last shudder passed through her body. Then he gavce her a moment to recouperate before he patted her moist, naked ass and shocked her back to reality.

“Come on,” he said, struggling to get his new hard-on into his pants.

“We better get home before Mom has a cow.”

He took Becky’s hand and helped her unsteadily to her feet. Like a zombie she pulled up her pants and ran her fingers through her hair. Then, with Tom waiting to follow in a few minutes, she took one last look at the hot pussy-eating that was going on in the house and hurried off toward her home.

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madaqueue · 1 month

Text

Practice Makes Perfect | Chapter 4

synopsis: you and yuji have been best friends basically as long as you can remember, and you made a promise to each other to stay friends and help each other be the best versions of yourselves for your future partners. but will things change when yuji finally starts looking for a relationship?

pairing: yuji itadori (18+) x f!reader

themes/content: modern college au (characters aged up to 18+). language, fluff, angst. some suggestive language at the end. 18+, MDNI

word count: 2.0k

a/n: RAAAAAA it’s getting real lmao

previous chapter | series masterlist | next chapter

Sitting towards the back of the room, you take note of the messy black hair and all black clothes. You walk over to him with a smile on your face. “Megumi?” you question.

The boy looks up from his notes and meets your eyes. “Oh, hey, Yuji’s friend. I didn’t know you were in this class,” he says, gesturing at the seat next to him and inviting you to sit.

“I could say the same to you,” you respond, setting down your backpack and getting settled next to him. You have never been this close to Megumi before, and notice his very subtle cologne that leaves a warm and almost smokey scent hanging in the air around him.

“I’m a biology major, so it kinda makes sense I’d have to be here,” he says, turning back towards his notes. You notice a small smirk forming on one side of his mouth as he does so.

As soon as you open your mouth to reply, your professor waltzes in at the front of the lecture hall, her heels softly clacking against the wood floor and the room falls quiet except for her voice. You and Megumi sit in silence for the rest of the class as you furiously scribble in your notes, trying to keep up with what Dr. Ieiri is lecturing on. Halfway into the class you glance over at Megumi’s notes and see he’s just…doodling? His page is full of drawings, from dogs to birds and frogs, covering the lined paper in front of him. He notices you staring and glances up at you out of the corner of his eye before turning his attention back to the paper. His drawing style suddenly shifts as he sketches a new shape. You watch him, mesmerized, as you realize he’s drawing…you?

Dr. Ieiri seems to end abruptly as she dismisses everyone, but you stay seated, waiting for Megumi to finish up his work. He tears the page out of his notebook and hands it to you without a word before putting everything on his desk into his backpack. You begin to pack up, unsure of what to say. After all, nobody has ever drawn you before - are you supposed to thank him? Should you give it back? In a panic, you stutter, “U-um, I’m going to go study at the library, if you want to come with me?”

Megumi glances up at you and softly responds, “Sure,” before tossing his backpack over his shoulder.

–

The two of you find a quiet table in the back corner of the library, dimly lit from the overhead lights and warm afternoon sun pooling in from a nearby window. You get started on your work quietly until Megumi clears his throat. “So, you never answered why you’re in Dr. Ieiri’s class,” he invites.

“Well, I’m an engineering major, but I’m still not sure what kind I want to be yet, so I have to take all these classes that are supposed to help me figure it out, and biology is one of them,” you explain. Megumi nods in response, before you continue, “I know I like to work with my hands, but I also like to think about problems before I have to solve them, which makes it hard to decide on a path. I know I don’t like computers, but I do love math. And I really didn’t expect to like Dr. Ieiri’s class as much as I do, so now I’m not sure,” you trail off. You pause for a moment, hoping you weren’t rambling. “You said you’re a bio major, right? Why’d you choose that? Also, I didn’t see you in her class last week, but we had definitely already met at Yuji’s, and you weren’t really paying attention today-” you stop yourself, realizing you were definitely rambling this time.

Megumi looks down. “Yeah I’m um…I’m actually retaking this class, so I kind of know it already.” You wait for him to continue. “Last fall my sister got really sick. Well, she got more sick, I guess. I had to take some time off to take care of her, so I ended up failing Dr. Ieiri’s class the first time I took it. I was gone last week because my sister was supposed to have this really big surgery and I wanted to be there for her, but they ended up postponing it, so I just stayed at the hospital with her for the rest of the week. She’s actually the reason I’m a bio major - I want to be a doctor so I can help people like her. It’s not fair what happened, and I want to make sure it doesn’t happen to anyone else.” He stops, realizing his hands had formed into fists as he was talking. His body relaxes and he shrugs, trying to ease some of the weight from the information he had just shared with you.

“I think it’s really sweet that you care about your sister so much,” you say. “It sounds like she is really important to you.” Megumi nods, still not looking up from the table. Unsure what else to say, you reach a hand out to touch his shoulder, hoping it provides some comfort. He leans into your touch, resting his cheek on the top of your hand. The feeling of his hair brushing against your arm gives you the ever-familiar butterflies and you try not to visibly blush. The two of you stay like that for a moment, comfortable in the silence, before you hear your phone buzz in your pocket. Megumi lifts his head up so you can use your hand to answer it, and he slowly gets back to work as you pull your phone out and look at it.

Incoming call: “YuYu”

You smile at the nickname he put in your phone for you when he first gave you his number back in highschool. You answer it and hold the phone up to your ear.

“Hey! Sorry I keep calling you randomly, but I have a bit of an emergency. But, this time it’s a good emergency, I promise. Remember that date I was supposed to have tonight? Turns out she can’t go anymore, but I already have a reservation at this new sushi place I have been dying to try, and I knowwwww you love sushi,” he says, and you can practically hear his smile through the phone. “I already know you’re going to say yes, so I’ll meet you at your place at 6:00 and we can walk over together. Oh, and it’s kind of fancy but not too fancy, but don’t worry about it too much! Okay great, I’ll see you then!” he finishes before hanging up.

You didn’t even get a word in for that entire conversation, but it looks like you now have plans tonight. Glancing at your now unlocked phone screen, you realize it’s already almost 5:00. “Shit,” you mutter under your breath. “I’m sorry Megumi, but I have to go,” you say, turning your attention back to the boy across from you.

“No worries,” he says with a soft smile. “This was really nice, we should study again sometime. Here, let me give you my number.” He holds his hand out for your phone and you give it to him, watching him put in his contact information before handing it back to you. You collect your study materials and wave at him as you walk out of the library.

–

When you arrive at the restaurant, you are shocked by Yuji’s definition of “kind of fancy.” The place is absolutely gorgeous, with natural wood and stone forming high ceilings, small fountains and mini waterfalls creating a soothing ambiance as the water collects in a river that winds throughout the restaurant. You walk over small bridges that decorate the interior to reach your table, surrounded by plants that provide some natural privacy. You felt slightly out of place despite wearing your nicest dress and heels, especially compared to Yuji in his black slacks and sport coat. You have to admit, though, the boy does clean up nicely.

Without getting a chance to even look at the menu, Yuji orders for both of you when the server returns. You gently smack his arm from across the table. “Hey, why did you do that? How could you assume what I wanted?” you ask playfully.

“I told you, I know you,” he shrugs. “Besides, dinner is on me since I dragged you out here last-minute. There’s some stuff I’ve been wanting to try ever since this place opened, and I got some things you’ll like, too,” he explains through a toothy grin.

“How generous, getting me things I’ll actually like,” you smirk, rolling your eyes. “Speaking of ‘dragging me here,’ what happened with your date?” you ask, trying to hide any remnants of jealousy.

“Oh, she just had something come up with a friend, but we rescheduled for next week. Plus, after the last practice date kind of went to shit, I figured it would be nice to actually get used to this place before the real-deal,” he says nonchalantly.

For some reason, his words sting more than you expect. Referring to this girl as the real-deal means that he must think you’re less than her, less deserving of his time or energy or-

Your thoughts cut off as an enormous pile of food gets set down on your table. There seems to be everything from nigiri to sashimi and tempura, all of it looking mouth-wateringly good. Yuji thanks the server and immediately starts digging in. Your stomach growls involuntarily and you’re forced to push your thoughts aside as you take a bite.

“Oh, my god,” you practically groan through the rice. “This is insane.”

“Right?” Yuji agrees, his cheeks puffed out from being so full of food.

The two of you eat in silence, savoring the combination of flavors in front of you, until Yuji pulls his phone out of his pocket. He smiles down at it and starts typing a message, and you can almost feel your blood boil. In an attempt to defuse your emotions you glance down at your phone, which unlocks to the recent contact page with Megumi’s information open on it. What the hell you think, typing out a message to send to him.

You: “hey Megumi, thanks for hanging out today, it was really nice”

Your phone buzzes almost immediately.

Megumi: “If this is who I think it is, I agree. Are you free tomorrow? There’s a new cafe off campus that’s really cozy, and I have some exams next week I need to study for. I’d love to see you”

The message makes you feel warm inside - he would love to see you? Of course you have to say yes.

You: “i’m free, how’s 11:00 sound? meet at your place?”

He ‘love’ reacts your message, which you take as affirmation of your plans. You put your phone back into your purse and look back up to see Yuji still smiling down at his phone. “Hey, it’s rude to be on your phone at the table,” you tease, but it comes out more irritated than you intended.

“Sorry, Nobara just said something funny and-” he cuts off, looking up at you realizing he had never told you the name of the girl he actually had feelings for, even though you already knew from seeing her name on his phone this morning.

“Oh, so is this ‘Nobara’ the one you were supposed to take out tonight?” you ask slyly. Yuji just nods blankly, trying to read your facial expressions. “Well, she must be quite special then,” you respond, desperately attempting to shove down any lingering jealousy as you maintain eye contact. “I actually have a date tomorrow, too,” you continue, not looking away from him. He cocks his head to the side, waiting for you to continue and taking another huge bite from the dwindling pile of food between you. “Speaking of which, I actually was hoping to get some practice too…” you trail off. “I want to suck your cock.”

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m-arkmywords · 1 year

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James Joint

pairing: mark x fem!reader

genre: fluff, smut, friends to lovers, stoner mark, established relationship, not suitable for minors

word count: 1,152

Summary: a summer afternoon spent with your boyfriend of four months as you slowly fall more in love

“don’t say a word.. just come over and lie here with me..” John Mayer blared through the speakers as you sat on your boyfriend’s lap, trying to roll a joint. He swayed you both to the music. Your back into the comfort of his chest.

The room was lit bright from the golden hour, as the sun was setting. The mixture of warm sun rays and Mark's hands caressing your thighs under your dress made you highly content.

“whatchu know about John Mayer!?” He giggled into your ear and leaving a kiss behind it.

“Yes Mark.. you put me on..” You rolled your eyes as you sealed the joint with your tongue.

“DONE!” You admire your work. “You like?!” You ask for your boyfriend’s approval, after him teaching you to roll for weeks now.

“Yes baby, well done” he handed you a lighter with a grin, as you turned to face him.

Maybe it was the first hot day of the year, maybe it was your boyfriends hands desperately caressing your body or maybe it was the feel of his heart beating against your back. Something was in the air this evening.

It has been exactly 4 months since you and Mark have made things official. Each day spent with him felt like coming home after a long day. It all started with him asking you, if you had wanted a brownie from his work place one day. Then he asked again. Then again, the next day and the day after that.. Some days you didn’t even want a brownie but he continued to ask and you kept saying yes.

He would come over almost every day with the brownie and you both spent hours just talking and laughing. Until one day you just kissed him. Shocked at first, he pulled back. “Are you sure?” He asked.

“If we do this, you know we can never go back to being friends.. you know that right?” Sincerity in his voice.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything else” you pulled him back into a kiss and rest was history.

Fast forward to four months, here, now in this room. You were content. This relationship felt like a big sigh of relief from the intensity of the world and you were happy.

“I wanna try something” he said taking in a drag. “Open your mouth” his lips hovered over yours as you tried your hardest not to melt into his mouth. He chuckled, “so needy baby.. patience.”

You opened your mouth and fought against your instinct to kiss him. He blew the smoke into your mouth and you inhaled. “Good girl.. just like that” his voice now, lower and raspier.

He continued to do this a couple times before handing you the joint and picking you up, walking over to the bed. Laying you on the bed, he hovered over you. Taking in your features and your frame before granting you the kiss you so desperately wanted. The taste of smoke, mixed with his sweet tongue sent tingles down your spine. You got so lost into the kiss, as if the whole world had melted with your lips connecting. Nothing else mattered.

“I want you to keep smoking” he looked into your eyes before placing soft kisses along your jaw, down to your neck whilst his hand grazed his fingers along your nipple.

Weed made your senses work at a 1000 and you unfolded under his touch. It felt like electric shocks across your body as your underwear pooled with arousal. He slowly pulled your dress down to free your breasts, taking one in his mouth and continuing playing with the other nipple. It was getting hard to focus on the joint as your head was close to empty.

Noticing your reaction, he chuckled to himself. “Don’t go weak on me now baby” leaving kisses across your stomach as he made his way between your legs. Moving your panties to the side, you saw his jaw drop and eyes dark, clouded with lust. He ran his fingers across your folds. “Fuck..”

“So wet for me” he said in awe of you. Mark began to leave wet kisses along your inner thighs, making you ache for his mouth every second. He looked so majestic as the sun light hit the side of his face. Highlighting one side of his body and leaving the other side in shade. This moment felt like a painting. Unable to form words, you moaned. He licked a strip across from the bottom of your pussy to the top until he reached the clit.

“baby.. im under your curse” the song now playing Curse by The Internet from your playlist. Mark was taking his time, giving attention to your clit making your breath get caught at the back of your throat. “ba.. I..” unable to form words you let out a moan. “Mm?” He hummed against your heat, making your mind go crazy from the vibration. He looked up at you and stopped. “Yes baby?” His face glistened from your arousal in the sun. His smile looked beautiful as ever.

“I love this song” you finally formed a coherent sentence. “It reminds me of you” you blushed, feeling your face get hot. He inserted two fingers inside you.

“Yeah?” His face soft but eyes determine to make you reach climax. He slowly started to pump his fingers inside you. “Is this our song?”

You felt frustration from the absence of his tongue on your clit and pushed his head back down. “Yes..”

He started sucking on your clit with fingers still inside you, making you see stars. He stopped and looked up again. Now, teasing you. “So what part of the song is your favourite?” He asked, furrowing his brows as if he’s genuinely curious.

“Shhhh” you pushed his head back down again.

“Oh you want me to shut the fuck up?” He sucked on your clit one more time, gaining another moan from you. “You want me to shut up and eat your pussy baby?”

These words went straight to your brain making your synapsis short circuit. “Uh huh” last coherent response he got from you before he grabbed your thigh to pull you closer and made circles around your clit. Fingers finding your g-spot at the same time, making you moan uncontrollably.

“Is this the spot baby?” He giggled against your heat, no chance of slowing down. “Cum for me baby” and with that, you released all over his hands and face. Joint lost, somewhere in the abyss. Only his name and moans rolled off your tongue as he let you ride your high. He came up smiling to your face, evidently proud of himself. You grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him into a messy kiss, your spit and arousal mixing into one, making you dizzy.

“I love tasting myself on you” you moaned into the kiss.

#mark lee #mark lee fanfic #mark lee fluff #mark lee smut #nct smut #nct fluff #mark lee x fem reader #mark nct #nct dream #nct 127

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carmyboobear · 1 month

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ALEXITHYMIA CH 4: piccata, bills, and ghosts

Roommate AU: Carmy Berzatto x Reader (R18)

ao3 link ch 1 ch 2 ch 3

Chapter Rating: T (9.1k)

Chapter Summary: Carmy realizes that this is what joy looks like, and when he looks that truth in the eyes, he finds himself blissfully unafraid. Their company is an indulgence he's finally allowing himself to have in its entirety, and it's beautiful. The world is both unfolding and combining, all for him, all because of them.

Tags: carmy being mentally ill, panic attacks, happy carmy, silly carmy, physical touch

A/N: Here's our fluffiest (and longest) chapter yet! But the hurt/comfort is also on full blast this chapter…This one really has it all. You'll see what I mean. Here's the also start of Act 2, in which Carmy is gonna be realizing…and he won't stop realizing…until he realizes it all. Also I am taking creative liberties with how family actually works. Enjoy!

It doesn’t always stay the same.

When Carmy looks in the bathroom mirror this morning, he feels as tired as he looks. Exhaustion resides in his dark eyebags and temperamental curly flyways. The fire from last night had interrupted the little sleep he was able to snag. Despite all the weariness, though, there’s something different about today.

He’s used to a blazing fire in his brain, constant in its sweltering heat and pain, but today, the fire lays low. There’s actually room in his head for quiet, for silence to exist. It’s not the dissociative emptiness he’s used to. He thinks he can only describe it as peace.

The thought almost makes him laugh with how ludicrous it is. Peace and him don’t typically mesh.

He remembers the fire last night, crackling in the containers of pots and pans before billowing upwards. He imagines a different outcome, instead pondering a future where his apartment burned down. Where their apartment burned down, and in this alternate reality, he stands in the ashes, unsurprised that he’s destroyed yet another good thing in his life. Then the grief of him realizing that it was the only good thing left in his life destroys him.

But when he looks at their toothbrush next to his, their shared crinkled tube of toothpaste, he comes back down.

He doesn’t know how he managed to keep them. Somehow, they’re here to stay, and they’re going to be at The Beef for family in half an hour.

“Corner,” he shouts, breezing through the kitchen with a container and shallots and garlic. He still needs to finish mincing them for family this afternoon—lemon chicken piccata. At least he’s prepped the rest of the ingredients already, along with the plates and utensils.

The peace in the morning was momentary, because of course it was. There’s a tangled yarn ball of anxiety knotting itself over and over inside him at the thought of them having family with him and everyone else. He pondered on his commute this morning if inviting them was the right thing. If it was an overstep, either with them or at The Beef, but then he remembers the way their face lit up when he asked, and the anxiety grows quiet. Well, quieter.

And as it grows quiet, it opens up the space for his excitement to be the loudest voice in his head.

“Lemon chicken piccata?” Sydney observes the prepped chicken, lemons, capers. As she looks, her fingers fiddle with the small golden hoops in her ear.

“Yeah. Thought this’d be a good way to have everyone try it again, get a better feel for it.” He cuts the shallot into thin slices before cutting into them again, mincing it into tiny pieces. He notes a distinctly ugly slice of shallot and tosses it. This dish needs to be perfect.

“Heard.” Sydney traces a finger over the edges of the stacked plates before stopping. “Uh, chef, I think you got an extra plate here.”

Carmy stops, looks up from the cutting board. Quickly counts the plates again. Looks back down.

“No, I got it,” he reassures her. When she raises an eyebrow at him, he adds, “I, uh, invited someone. My…roommate.”

“Oh.” Sydney doesn’t even try to hide the surprise on her face, or maybe she’s just so shocked she couldn’t. “That’s—that’s great!”

“Sorry I didn’t, um, give a heads up. Or something. Uh…” He pauses, looking at her, trying to search for more words.

“No, it’s fine! I’m just surprised.” She shakes her head, seemingly to herself. “But now that you mention it, yeah, a heads up next time could be cool.”

“Next time,” Carmy promises with a nod. Next time, he thinks wistfully to himself. Maybe there could be a next time.

“So…I’m guessing no one else knows that you invited someone,” Sydney says, harmlessly, just as Tina and Marcus decide to come back into the kitchen.

“Carmy invited someone?” Marcus makes his way back into the kitchen, a sack of flour in one hand and a tin of cocoa powder in the other. They slam onto the counter at the baking station, resounding with a dull thud. “Lemme guess. Is it the roommate?”

“It's the roommate,” Carmy confirms, before anyone else can get a word in. Now, onto mincing the garlic.

“Jeff!” Tina exclaims, aghast. “Why didn't you say something earlier?” She’s walking some extra vegetables to her station to prep. “Way to surprise us!”

“Who’s surprising us? With what?” Carmy raises his head, and when he sees who's just come back through the front entrance, he lowers his head with an aggravated sigh. Richie. The last thing he needs right now.

“Carmy's bringing a date to family,” Tina tattles helpfully. Although Carmy begrudgingly acknowledges that he would've had to bring it up eventually.

“Not a date, just my roommate,” he mutters. Not that anyone's listening.

“Carmen, Carmen, Carmen.” Richie makes a drama production of swinging the door open into the kitchen, stepping through it with arms outstretched. An overpowering scent of pine cologne accompanies him. “So you do listen to your cousin when he talks, huh?”

“I have no idea what he's talking about,” Carmy tells Sydney, who just shrugs.

“I'm proud of you, cousin. Really proud.” Richie slaps him way too hard on the back, jerking Carmy forward.

“Don't do that when I'm using a knife, you asshole!” Carmy snaps, elbowing Richie out of the way. “Stupid fuckin’ idiot.”

“Jesus, fine, fine, I'll get out of your way!” Getting cursed at did little to deter Richie's smug demeanor. “Fuckin’ princess. If anyone needs me, I'll be in the back.”

“We won't,” Carmy says, and Richie flips him off as he walks away.

“Carmy's bringing his roommate, who he is not dating, to family,” Marcus projects to the rest of the kitchen, and Carmy resists a groan.

“It’s not a big deal.” Carmy slams his knife onto another clove of garlic, crushing it. “I don't see why you guys have to make such a fuss about it.”

“Because it's fun,” Marcus replies with a broad grin. “Sorry, chef.”

“Let us have our fun. We never get to poke fun at you,” Tina says.

“That is just not true,” Carmy groans, and everyone’s laugh resounds into a mismatched chorus.

They tease him relentlessly for a couple more minutes until it dissolves into sparse chatter, for which Carmy is grateful. Peaceful lulls in the kitchen are rare, especially in this particular one. He takes it while he can get it, honing in, oiling the pan, pressing the chicken into the bubbling surface until it's golden. The others gradually filter out as he cooks, leaving him to cook on his own.

Then comes the familiar chime of the front door.

Carmy turns the stove off, takes the pan off the heat to check to see who it is. Surely enough, it’s the guest of honor.

“Hey Carmy!” They’re looking cute as ever today, maybe even a bit more dressed up than usual. Part of Carmy thinks that maybe they dressed up for him, and another part of Carmy strangles the other one to death. “Hope I’m not too early.”

“Hey, you’re fine. I’m just about to finish up.” He guides them into the kitchen with him.

“Smells incredible in here,” they comment. “Also, before I forget. Is there somewhere I could put my coat? Break room or somethin?”

“Yeah, we can put it in my office.”

Upon entering, Carmy becomes acutely aware of exactly how messy his office is. It's not like he didn't know. He created the mess, after all, but having someone new bear witness to his stacks of papers and stuffed file folders is…embarrassing, to put it plainly. To Carmy's benefit and luck, though, they're much too polite of a person to comment.

“So this is where you're holed up.” Their head turns to look at all the posters and papers hung up on the wall, still largely unchanged from Michael's time.

“Yep. It's all bookkeeping, along with more bookkeeping,” he informs dryly. “Here, you can hang that on my chair.”

“Thanks.” They drape their jacket on the back of his chair, and Carmy is suddenly struck with the impression that it feels odd to see it there. “Oh!” They exclaim, looking at something on his desk.

He follows their gaze to the papaya pills and ginger candies sitting in the corner.

“Ah, yeah.” Why does he feel embarrassed? “I really need to thank you again for that.”

“No need, but I’ll take it. I hope they actually helped.”

“They did. I actually, uh…” He digs around in his apron pocket and fishes out a candy. “I’ve been keeping them on me.”

“I’m so glad to hear that.” They beam at him, visibly brightening. It’s infectious, and he feels himself smiling a little back.

A period of silence falls between them. This sort of thing keeps happening as recent. It leaves them looking at one another, and it should be awkward. Yet it’s not. It’s strange and peaceful, and then because Carmy is Carmy, his heart starts squeezing and telling him he needs to get out of here.

“Did you sleep alright? After, uh, last night.” He’s not sure why he’s asking that now.

“Yeah, I was fine. You?”

“Okay,” he replies instinctually. “Sorta,” he amends. “I’m doin’ better.”

“That’s good. Better is good.”

“Yeah.” He exhales out his nose, runs a hand through his hair.

There’s the muffled sound of laughter in the distance, and it reminds Carmy that they’re not quite alone. That he still has dishes he needs to finish cooking.

“I need to finish back in the kitchen. Let me show you where we’re sitting.”

Minus a few faces, everyone’s already seated at the table for family. There’s some idle chatter floating in the air, but it drops to the floor as soon as Carmy enters. Makes him feel like a deer in headlights.

“Everyone, this is my, uh—“ Something in Carmy’s brain buffers. “My friend,” he finally decides. He introduces them to the four that're seated already, those of which being Sydney, Marcus, Tina, and Ebra. There’s a mix of enthusiastic hellos and simple nods in response. He turns back to his roommate—friend—whatever—and they’re waving back. “I'll be back soon. Sit wherever you want.”

“Sure thing,” they reply easily, and it makes Carmy feel a little less guilty about abandoning them.

To his credit, he does try to finish cooking quickly. All he had left was the sauce, and he already prepped all the ingredients. Between the aromatic browned onions, emulsifying the sauce with wine, and dousing the chicken in it, he couldn't have taken more than 15 minutes.

He wasn't sure what to expect upon returning. The worst possible scenario would be complete silence. Or screaming, but that was unlikely. On his walk there, though, plates in hand, he hears pleasant chatter.

“The coffee down the street is overpriced,” Carmy hears his roommate saying. There’s a murmur of agreement. When he walks in, he sees all the seats at the table are full. “Don’t get me wrong, it's not bad, but you'd get coffee just as good one block down the other way at—”

“At Ironclad?” Marcus guesses hopefully, leaning in.

“At Ironclad,” they confirm, and there's a mix of cheers and boos.

“Grit is better,” Sydney challenges. “More espresso bean options.”

“You make a compelling point,” they reply. “A latte for $4 though? In this economy? Just try and beat that.”

“It's less at 7-Eleven,” Richie chimes in, and everyone boos. “It's one of the pillars of the working class! Admit it!”

They're not like him, Carmy remembers. They're actually socially competent, and they can do well for themself in a group of strangers. Seemingly with little effort, they’ve already assimilated themself.

“Family's up,” Carmy announces, sliding plates into the table. “Lemon chicken piccata and caramelized rosemary potatoes.”

“Jeff, didn't you show us this last week?” Tina asks. She leans in to waft the savory smell towards her nose, and she hums in approval.

“Yeah, I did. I just thought it'd be good to make it for you guys.” He finishes getting the rest of the plates from the kitchen, making sure everyone has a plate of food in front of them. He can tell who's started eating by the pleased expressions on their faces. Other than the fact that their food has a dent in it, of course.

“Carmy. This is on fire,” Ebra praises, nodding in approval towards him.

“Ebra, it's ‘this is fire’, not ‘this is on fire’,” Gary corrects, amused. “But I agree.”

“Good, good,” Carmy says. He settles into his seat at the front of the table, which is…weird, actually. He doesn't remember the last time he's actually sat and had family with everyone.

“Actually eating with us for once, Carmen?” Richie points out. He says it like a jab, because that's always how he speaks, but it lacks the fight that it usually does. Carmy can hear what he's really expressing—I'm glad you're joining us.

“I am,” Carmy responds evenly. He feels his roommate's curious gaze to his right, but they don't say anything. That's when he notices that they haven't started eating yet. His mind supplies a million different reasons at once. None of them sound sane, so they'll go unspoken. “Not hungry?” he asks instead.

“No, I just wanted to wait until you were here.” They say it like it's not a big deal. “I always did it with my family growing up. Just a habit, I guess.” Now that they're saying it, some of Carmy's memories start to make more sense. He suddenly remembers sitting with them at home, and he had to take a call right before they were about to start their dinner. When he came back, their food was still untouched. He didn't think much of it then, but now…

“Oh, cool. That's…” In the time he's searching for a word, they've taken a bite. “How is it?” He asks instead.

“Fuck.” They're shaking their head like something's wrong, but it's obvious from the gigantic smile on their face that it's anything but. “Carmy. Carmy. You're crazy.”

“Am I, now?” He knows he's probably got a stupid expression on his face.

“So crazy. This is incredible.” They slice themself another piece of chicken. “These capers too, man. You actually made me like capers.”

“The capers made you like capers,” Carmy jokes, and they snort.

“No, that's severely underplaying your part in all this. Seriously, this is delicious.” They always get this glowing smile when they're eating good food. He's witnessed it in their shared kitchen, whether it's food from their mutually favorite joint or their own two hands. He's never seen them smile like this, though. It's a joy that's possibly unique to Carmy's own cooking.

Carmy doesn't know how to handle that. Not even a little bit.

“Glad to hear it,” he says instead, ignoring the fullness in his heart, and he starts eating.

“I’mma start this week,” Marcus begins. “I'm grateful for the fact that my roommate Chester actually managed not to spoil the episode I missed of this show we’re watching this past week. He’s still a jackass, though.”

“You can say it’s The Bachelor, we all already know,” Sydney teases. Marcus huffs, but he’s smiling.

“Just for that, you’re goin’ now,” he replies, motioning towards her with a fork.

“Sure, sure. Yeah, um, I’m grateful for my dad’s good health.” Sydney shrugs, nonchalant when there’s a group of “aww”s. “I am! He had this, ugh, awful case of bronchitis, but he's good now. It was scary. Tina?”

“Hm…” Tina chews thoughtfully as she thinks. “Oh! My dumbass son actually passed his finals. Even with some A’s!” She claps her hands excitedly and clasps them to rest under her chin. That gets a variety of cheers. “If he actually tries, he can be so smart. But not without stressing me the fuck out first. What about you, Rich?”

“Easy. I found that pine cologne that Marcus hates,” Richie says, smug.

“I noticed,” Marcus replies mildly. “Everyone hates it, by the way.”

“I smell like the fuckin’ forest! It's majestic as shit.” Richie makes a show of sniffing his shirt amongst all the booing mixed with laughter. That's when he looks to Carmy’s roommate, who's been politely listening and eating. “You wanna have a go of it, guest of honor?”

“Oh, sure. Something I'm grateful for, right?” They put down their utensils and thoughtfully rub their index finger across their chin. “Well…I’m feeling pretty grateful to be eating this delicious food. It's not often I get to eat food this good.” It's not that good, Carmy wants to say to combat the fluttering in his stomach, but it's far too contradictory. He made sure to make it good since they were going to be eating it. “How about you, Carmy?”

“Huh?” Carmy's been on autopilot, comfortable to watch everyone else. He's not much of a participant. Now everyone's got their eyes on him. “I'm grateful for, uh…”

I'm grateful for that smile you get when you eat my cooking, he wants to say. I'm grateful to have someone like you.

“I'm grateful to be in good company,” Carmy says. That receives a round of hearty reactions, including a look from his roommate that he can only describe as affectionate. He pointedly looks back down at his half-eaten plate when he feels his ears getting warm.

“Aw, you softie,” Richie snickers. “What, are we embarrassin’ you?”

“Shut it,” he mutters, but there's barely any heat behind it. His reaction only creates more laughter around the table. “Ebra, you go next.”

Little does Richie know what he's really embarrassed about. Everyone's teasing isn't helping, sure, but it's not his fellow chefs, it's them. It's their stupid smile that he keeps looking back at. It's that he knows it's from the food he made for them, it's that he doesn't know what to do with all these feelings taking up residence in his heart.

Between the energetic chatter and the cleaned off plates, Carmy realizes that a part of what he's feeling is happiness. It's an odd sensation, which says a lot about the type of person that he is. It's the truth, though. He's just cooked a good meal for people he cares a lot about, and the happiness that has come with that is weird.

Not bad weird, though. Good weird.

If anyone noticed how strange he looked smiling with a fork in his mouth, they didn't mention it.

Family goes by faster than Carmy is used to. That's what happens when you actually join in for once, he supposes. He just wasn't expecting it to wrap up so quickly. Or, it's more accurate to say he didn't want to see them go already.

“Guess you guys have to get ready for service now, right?” They've returned to his office to grab their jacket, giving the two of them a brief moment of privacy.

“Yeah. Service starts at 3.” He sighs, and they sympathetically return his sigh.

“Right. Well, I really enjoyed eating with everyone. And the food? Seriously, it was so good. You knocked it out of the park. I’m sure you get this all the time, but you’re seriously incredible at what you do.”

“I don’t hear that so much anymore,” he admits. “Not like I used to. Um…” He clears his throat, shakes his head. “I’m just glad you enjoyed it. I should really cook more outside of this place. Maybe cook for us in our kitchen for once.”

“You know I’m here for that. I could have your cooking any time,” they gush, like it doesn’t make Carmy’s heart palpitate. “I get it, through. You spend all day cooking here, I get that you don’t wanna come home and cook.”

“Yeah, but…it's different.” It's different because it’s for you, he wants to say, but as expected, he doesn’t.

“W-What?” Suddenly, their cheeks go pink. “Well, if you put it like that…”

“...” The realization buffers in his head before fully forming. He actually said that aloud after all. Too late to take it back. “Uh, yeah, I mean, I just think, I should give you a break from making leftovers for the week,” he stutters in a weak attempt to cover his accidental affection. “And, um, I just want to, because I…”

“Because…?” He’s taking way too fucking long to finish this sentence. Their face doesn’t betray any impatience, though. It never does, and seeing that makes him relax.

“Because I—like that you like my cooking.”

“I love your cooking,” they correct, their smile teasing.

“Um, right—you love—” he tries to fix his words again, but this one’s far too much to say. The butterflies in his stomach feel similar to nausea. The conflict must show on his face in an insane way, because their smile turns into a wide grin full of amusement.

“It was a good attempt.” That makes him laugh a little. “Hey, if you’re saying I get to bring your cooking to work this next week, I’m not objecting.”

“I’ll try my best.” His eyes catch the clock on the wall. He needs to wrap this up. “I’m not trying to kick you out, but I really gotta get back now.”

“It’s cool. I should be heading out anyway. I’ll see you at home?”

“Yeah,” he says, poorly hiding the affection in it, “I’ll see you at home. And, uh—thanks. For coming.”

“Of course. I had fun,” they say with a smile. “See ya.”

He watches them leave through the entrance, hearing that familiar sound of the ringing bell, and they're gone.

Carmy is left standing there with an odd warmth in his chest. It doesn't overwhelm him, doesn't suffocate him, just sits there. It's a strange, but nice feeling.

This is what happiness feels like, he realizes, and in this moment, fear is nowhere to be found.

. . . . .

The dinner rush is fine. It's just fine. It's just another thing for Carmy to get through, and he does. Just another obstacle between him and getting home.

A wishful part of him always hopes that they'll be able to close before 10, but it is a very lofty wish to make, especially on a Saturday. With great regret, he puts his car into park at 10:44 pm. The night air is frigid and awful against his brittle dry skin and cracked lips. He can't get to his front door fast enough.

Opening the front door sends warm gusts of heated air across his face. He can't help his relieved sigh, especially not when he sees them sitting on the couch. They’re dressed in a loose t-shirt and bike shorts, a combo that makes his heart pulse.

“Hey, welcome back.” They give him a little wave. He finds it surprisingly easy to smile and wave back. This strange joy keeps finding new ways to pop up. “How was the rest of your day?”

“Fine,” he says, because it was. It was fine. “Busy, but normal. You know how it is. Weekends.” They hum in agreement. He kicks his shoes off by the door, walks over to where they're seated. This is when he notices the laundry basket on the floor with stacks of folded clothes. They grab a sweater from the pile of clothes on the coffee table and lay it out on their lap. “Doin’ laundry?”

“Yeah. I'm trying to be responsible.” They smooth out the sweater, working out the creases in the collar with their fingers. “I think some of your socks ended up in the wash with my stuff.” They motion to a neat stack of miscellaneous white socks sitting on the coffee table.

“Oh, yeah. These are mine.” He picks them up, turns them around in his hand. “Sorry, guess I missed them when I was last doing laundry.”

“It's fine. They're just extra clean now.”

“And folded.” He does his best to put his socks down just as they were even though he’ll have to move them anyway. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” They pull up another piece of clothing from their basket. Carmy immediately recognizes it as they throw it over to him. It’s his boxers.

“Shit, sorry,” he apologizes on reflex, heating up with embarrassment. He crumples it up in his hand.

“It’s chill. Besides, didn’t you get one of my bras once?”

“Ah, yeah. I forgot,” he says, like he needed a moment to remember it. It’s all a facade. He couldn’t get that moment out of his memories he tried. It was very lacy, and it made him more nervous than someone his age should’ve been.

“Oh, I forgot to mention when I saw you earlier. I paid the water bill today. It was 48 something.” They lean forward to grab a white envelope. The monthly payment from the water company. They flip it open and scan the paper again. “It was—48 dollars and 19 cents, to be exact.”

“Lower than last month.” He is grateful to be discussing the water bill instead of their underwear. “Much lower, actually.”

“I’ve been trying to cut back on my 30 minute showers, and I’d like to think that’s why.”

“Good job,” he says jokingly, and they pretend to bow like they’ve won an award. “I still think 30 minutes is just a little too long,” he teases after. This is a familiar conversation.

“Maybe to you, Mr. 5 minute showers,” they scoff. They kindly don’t mention how little he actually showers. “I have a lot of serious business to attend to in there! Lots of meetings, lots of calls…” They snicker, and he makes a dismissive noise, but he’s smiling. He's never been good at hiding his amusement around them. “So, yeah. Just venmo me when you get the chance.”

“Already on it,” he says. As soon as he sends it, their phone dings with the notification.

“Thank you, thank you. And, ah, not to bombard you with more housekeeping, but I'm gonna try and go grocery shopping this monday. Wanted to ask if you need me to pick up anything.”

“Uh…” Detergent, coffee, soap, peanut butter, bread, chips, he notes in his head, rattling off a list. “I need a lot of stuff, so don't worry about it. Actually—” He turns to look at them, and they look up from their laundry with a curious look. “When were you thinking about going?”

“It's my day off, so anytime. What, wanna join me?”

“If you don't mind going in the morning, then yeah.” It feels weird, asking for accommodations like this. When you're running a business that keeps you until 10 pm everyday, though, you don't have a choice. “Like, 9 am?”

“Not earlier?” They smile knowingly. “I don't mind. We can do 8 am, if you want.”

“I wouldn't wanna make you wake up any earlier than you already have to on your day off.”

“It's no different to me, really. Besides, I'm offering.”

“Right. Uh…” I shouldn't push it, he thinks to himself with near certainty, but he stops. Takes a moment. They're offering. “Sure, then. 8 am.”

“8 am,” they reply easily. A wistful smile appears on their face. “When's the last time we've gone grocery shopping together?”

“I can't remember, so at least over a month.” That's also the last time I properly went grocery shopping, he remembers, but he doesn't want to share that.

“Way too long.” They shake their head. “It's just hard to line our schedules up. You think it'd be easier since we live together.”

“Y'think,” he echoes tiredly. “Not like I’m makin’ it any easier, being at The Beef everyday and all.”

“Well…yeah, I suppose not. It is a little scary how long you go without a day off.” They make a face. “When's the last day you've had a day off?”

“Dunno. Just got a lot to do…all the time.”

“All the time.” They sigh. “Is that really how it's supposed to be? Being a business owner?”

“When your business is fucked, yeah.” The growing distress on their face makes the corners of his mouth twitch in an amused smile. “Scraping by from week to week.”

“Damn.” They raise their eyebrows, shake their head. “I don't know how you do it.”

“I'm used to it.” It's the truth. The longer he thinks about it, though, the festering dread starts to creep out from the hole he's kicked it in. So he changes the subject before it can come out and choke him to death. “Mind if I crack open the window for a smoke?”

“Only if you don't let me join you,” they reply with a wide grin, and he laughs.

After changing out of his work clothes into a tank top and gray sweatpants, he sits himself at their designated window. He cracks it open just a smidge—it's too cold tonight. The cars are quiet, at least. He pulls his pack from his pocket and places a cigarette into his mouth.

“You want a cig?” Carmy asks when they take the empty seat across from him. Their smoking device of choice today is their water pipe. It looks like a juicebox from the packaging, shape, and the plastic straw arching out of it.

“Can I just take a hit off yours instead? Not really in the mood for a whole cig right now.” He wordlessly passes his lit cig to them. They take a slow hit, the orange glow creeping up it. They look down at it and frown. “Sorry, I got a little lip gloss on it. I didn't realize I still had some on.”

“It's fine.” He takes it back and inspects it. Little oily pink smudges lay in a messy circle on the filter. “As long as it's not like that other lipstick.”

“God, no.” They drag a hand over their face. “I know I keep saying it, but I'm so sorry about that. That was mortifying.”

“Don't worry about it. Dust under the rug.” When he brings his mouth back around his cig, a faint stickiness clings to his lips. He bulldozes through the jittery feeling it brings with it.

They sit there smoking side by side for a minute. His gaze flickers between the moving city scenery out the window and the sight of them smoking from their bubbler. Clearly one is more captivating than the other. He watches the translucent smoke fill the glass, go up the straw, and out of their lips.

They catch him staring. His only saving grace is that he doesn't flinch.

“You want some?” They ask, turning the bubbler towards him. So that's what they thought he was doing. He can live with that.

“Sure, if you're offering.”

“Yeah, I am. This one's real sleepy shit, just so you know.”

“Good. I need that tonight.” The taste of the weed is strangely floral as it goes down, but he can't place what it is. “Did you mix this with something?”

“Not this time. Tastes weird though, right? It's kinda…detergent-y. One of my friends says it tastes like dryer sheets.”

“So am I smoking laundromat weed? Tide pod weed?” It's a stupid joke, but Carmy finds that the dumber the joke, the harder it makes them laugh.

“Laundromat weed,” they wheeze. “No, it's not tide pod weed. I can't afford name brand.”

“Equate weed, then?”

“Kroger brand, actually,” they say, “but I hear Up & Up is pretty good, too.”

“I'm sure it's just as good as name-brand shit.”

“Most of the time.”

Carmy clears the rest of the chamber of the excess smoke before sliding it back across the table to them.

“Thanks.” The buzz is setting in. The mix of cannabis and nicotine always feels a little weird, but in a thrilling way. “I really just need to get my own shit, stop mooching off you.”

“I steal enough of your cigs, so don't worry about it.” This is when he notices that their eyes have gone a little pink from the weed. He also notes to himself that he shouldn't be looking so closely. “So, did something good happen today?”

“Good?”

“Yeah. You just seem to be in a particularly good mood, is all.”

“Oh.” He immediately knows why. Surely he can't just be honest with them, but the high's lowered his barriers, and he decides to just let himself say it. “Yeah, something good did happen, now that you mention it.”

“That's good,” they say, like it has nothing to do with them. “It's nice to see you with a little less stress on you. What happened?”

“You don't already know?” He asks, because there's no way they don't know. From the look on their face, though, they really don't. “It was you.”

“...” Their face colors. “Oh,” they say, just like he did a second ago. He likes seeing them smile with a blush to match. “I mean, I thought, maybe, I just didn't wanna assume…”

“It was nice. Having you there with everyone, I mean.”

“They're really cool. You've got some great coworkers.”

“I do,” he replies quietly, faintly. It's true, even when he wants to let The Beef catch on fire. “Everyone really liked you.”

“Really?” The surprise is clear on their face.

“Yeah, really.” Throughout the rest of the day, the others had come up to him expressing some sort of approval. Not that he needed their approval. It felt nice, though. How'd you find someone so…nice? Marcus had asked, entirely genuine, and all Carmy could do was shrug. It was a good question.

How was a person like him allowed to have anything good in his life?

“Am I allowed to ask what they said?”

“You're allowed,” he says, amused. “Marcus said you were really nice. So did Syd. Seems you hit it off with them.”

“I think I did, too.” They sit with his reply for a moment, staring out the window and idly tapping their fingers on the bubbler. “Feels weird.”

“Weird?”

“A good weird,” they clarify. “You ever get weirded out by the fact that people talk about you when you're not there? And it's like, good things they're saying, too?”

“Constantly,” he admits. “I don't know if I'll ever get used to it.”

“Yeah.” Their hands are fiddling with the ends of their hair. “I guess I just have a hard time believing that people will think the best of me when I'm not around. Like…like, I don't know, just…”

“No, I understand.” Carmy's feels acutely more alert now. “It's like, uh, object permanence, kinda. But with—with people.”

“That's exactly it!” They exclaim, and then they deflate again. “It's stupid, but I just…”

“It's not stupid,” he assures them, and their lips quirk in a tiny smile. “If it helps, I…I don't think the worst of you when you're not around.”

“Hearing you say it aloud makes me realize how crazy it is for me to think like that,” they murmur, “but thank you. That does…that does make me feel better, actually.”

“Sure.” It's better if you don't know the details, he thinks to himself, reminiscing on naked dreams and daydreams around their bright smile.

He really shouldn’t sit on the couch with them. It’s late, and he needs to be in his own bed at this time of night. Unfortunately, logic isn’t at the forefront when he sees them. He’s high and wants to stick to them like glue, so he does. They’ve turned on these HD videos of people making drinks. It’s like sensory videos for babies, except for adults, they told him, and that got the two of them giggling.

It’s nice. Far too nice than what Carmy’s used to. But this time, he doesn’t want to let it go, and he’s not afraid of that, either.

I want this to last, he thinks, unafraid, and he falls asleep listening to their voice.

. . . . .

Carmy wakes up by jolting up from the couch. He’s hunched and heaving for air, and all he can think about is that he needs to see Michael.

“Mike,” he calls out. His voice is raspy and shaken. His body feels like a piece of stretched twine. He’s about to call out for Mike again until he lifts his head to see his roommate who is definitely not Michael.

Fuck.

“Hey. Are you okay?” Their expression is alert, but gentle. He doesn’t trust himself to speak, so he just keeps his mouth shut and breathes heavily through his nose. He manages a nod. He imagines it doesn’t look very convincing.

“Just need a second,” he gets out. God, he sounds awful.

“You’re fine. You don’t need to explain anything, just…take your time.”

“I thought today was going to be a good day,” he gets out between gritted teeth. “Stupid. Fuckin’ stupid of me. Fuck. Mi—” He cuts himself off. That indescribable fear he thought was far has resurfaced, pushing in between the cracks in his ribs, desperate in the space it’s vying for.

Why the fuck are his eyes hot? He shouldn’t cry. Not over this. Not over anything.

“Who’s—?” They stop themself, mouth closing in a thin line. “Sorry. I don’t need to ask.” The question starts and ends there, but he knows what they’re asking.

Who’s Mike?

It feels like two knives sharpening each other, the tinny sound of steel against steel. It pierces him once, twisting, turning into a dull, painful ache. Like an old wound that hasn’t had enough time to heal, an old throbbing scar.

Michael.

“He...” Carmy starts, but it’s too much. It’s too much, and his hands are trembling, shaking terribly. It’s gonna happen again. He can’t do this.

Softer hands hold his, thumbs rubbing soft circles on the back of his dry hands. With each rotation on his skin, with each lap, Carmy slows down. He returns.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” they whisper. Their hands are so gentle. “I didn’t mean to ask, it just sorta popped out.”

“No, it’s okay,” he responds without thinking, surprising even himself. Even though it’s not really okay, even though he doesn’t really wanna talk about it, maybe he does, because he hasn’t gone completely silent yet. “He was my brother.”

“Ah...” Realization sets in their voice. “I see.”

“He was a drug addict,” he explains, pretending like saying it doesn’t feel like crumbling dough, like sugar dissolving into boiling water. “Killed himself.”

The grip on his hands tighten. He appreciates the feeling.

This is the mark you’ve left, Carmy thinks suddenly. How fucked up is that, Mike? The first thing I tell people is the last thing you ever did. When did you stop being my best friend and start being my older brother who killed himself?

“I’m sorry,” they say quietly, because of course they do. That’s all anyone can think to say. Carmy’s too tired to feel angry about that anymore. “When did he pass away?”

“Last February,” he answers like it’s a quiz question, like it doesn’t mean anything. “It’ll be a year in a couple months.”

“I see.” Their hands are holding his gently again. Carmy finds he prefers this. “That must’ve been really hard. Still is, I’m sure.”

“...Still is, yeah. Especially with the restaurant. It was his,” he explains, when he sees the confusion beginning in their eyes. “He was the previous owner, and he left it. To me.”

“So that’s why you’re here and not in New York?” They ask. He nods.

“I’m trying to fix it.” He doesn’t say I’m fixing it, because that would mean he’s made progress.

“I don’t know how it was before, but it seems like you are fixing it. I know I’ve barely been there, you know it a million times better than I do, it just...it seems like people are happy there.”

“Happy,” he muses. “Yeah. I guess so.”

“Everyone seems to really like you,” they go on. “That’s something, isn’t it?”

“It is. Doesn’t fix the debt, but...” He shrugs half-heartedly. No, not even half. Quarter-heartedly. “It’s somethin’.”

“I had no clue.” There’s something regretful, rueful in their words. “This whole time, you’ve just been...”

“Don’t,” he interrupts.

“...I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“No, I’m sorry,” he backtracks. “I just mean...don’t give me your pity,” he mutters. It’s a bitter thing to say. Luckily, he’s so drained it comes out without any of the venom. It’s better that way. They don’t deserve his poison.

“It’s not pity,” they argue, their reply so instant it sobers him. “It’s...respect, I guess.”

“Respect?”

“Yeah. You’ve got a lot on your plate. I couldn’t handle all the stuff you do, but you’re doing great.”

“I barely sleep most nights,” he says suddenly. He’s unsure why. It’s like he has to prove something. “When I do, there’s nightmares. You saw that tonight and yesterday. I almost burned down the house. My stomach’s still fucked. I’m not...” His eyes feel hot again. Breathing suddenly feels different. There’s ringing, static clogging his ears. “I’m not doing great,” he realizes with stunning, raw clarity, and the pain of it knocks the wind out of him.

“You’re doing great,” they say again. “Look at me, Carmy.”

He looks at them. Their eyes are warm.

"I,” he starts, but he’s having an awful time trying to breathe. When he inhales, he feels like he’s splintering, a unified whole breaking into jagged, drifting parts.

Dread overtakes him in the blink of an eye. He doesn’t want them to see him like this. Hasn’t he already done enough?

“Breathe in with me.” They inhale, slowly, counting to 8. He counts with them like a lifeline, which it partially is. His breaths come out staggered, but he claws forward. Tries his best to keep his eyes interlocked with theirs. “And exhale...”

He clings onto every beat in their voice, every circle their thumbs make. Their words wrap around him, bringing the broken pieces back together, clicking them into place again. They restore his sense of gravity, returning his feet to solid ground with every breath.

“You’re okay,” they say softly. One of their hands moves up to brush back hair from his face. The feeling of their fingers tucking hair behind his ear makes his eyes flutter briefly shut.

“I’m okay,” he whispers back. It doesn’t sound very convincing. Fake it until you make it, he reminds himself.

“You’re okay.” They take one last deep breath with him, and when he exhales, his head feels clear again.

“Sorry. That was...” He shakes his head. “I don’t usually...”

“Never gotten one of those before?”

“No, it’s not that. I’ve had tons of panic attacks before, just...not in front of anyone else,” he finishes awkwardly.

“Yeah?” Carmy finds himself looking down at their conjoined hands instead of their eyes. “Well, you certainly don’t have to apologize. I get them too, from time to time.”

“Thank you. For...calming me down.” He takes another deep breath to steady himself. “It helped a lot.”

“No problem.” There’s that glowing smile he can’t get enough of. “How’re you feeling now?”

“I…” He tries to pinpoint something in all the noise. It’s proving difficult. “I’m calmer,” he notices.

“That’s good.”

“Yeah, uh, I don’t know what to, how to, explain my…feelings.” The words are so haphazardly put together that he stammers as they tumble on the way out of his mouth.

“Don’t worry, you’re doing great.” From anyone, the sentiment would make him shut down even more, turn his head the other way. From them, though…

“I’m okay,” he says, and it’s the truth. “I think, um, just a lot hit me all at once.”

“I get it. It often happens like that, doesn’t it?”

“It does. I just...” He briefly shuts his eyes, and there’s a flash of Michael. “It’s hard. Doing all this without him.” They nod. “I never wanted to. Not on my own.”

“He must’ve been a great guy.”

“He was,” he starts, and his throat closes up. They seem to understand, because they don’t say anything else. He doesn’t say it, but he’s glad for it. This is all he can bear.

It’s hard to put into words, the way Carmy feels right now. He’s never been great at describing how he feels, even when he was a kid. Sometimes he’d cry about the wrong things, and he wouldn’t cry at the right things. But there wasn’t quite any right or wrong way to feel. It just was. It just is.

The grief comes in waves. It always has, and it always will. Each wave is a natural disaster on its own, a tsunami that fills his lungs with water, leaving nothing in its wake. But something about this one just washed slowly over him, leaving just droplets of water in his hair. If anything, he just feels...lighter.

He supposes this is what really trusting someone feels like.

The moment of peace is eventually ruined by his stomach growling. Loudly.

“Hungry?” They say first with an amused grin.

“I guess.” He hadn’t realized. “I didn’t eat much today.”

“Hm, I do suppose you had a late lunch, too, if that matters.”

“Sure. That’s also all I had to eat today.” He doesn’t know why he lets that slip, but he does.

“Oh no!” That makes them jump up, detaching their hands from his. He tries not to mourn the loss for too long. “No wonder you’re hungry.”

“It’s fine. It’s like this sometimes,” he says, like it’s a normal and healthy thing to be doing. “Just one of those days.” They frown.

“What do you do when your stomach gets like this? What do you eat?”

“I don’t eat,” he answers honestly, and they gasp.

“Carmy! That is not the answer. I mean, like, don’t force it down, but is there really nothing you can stomach?”

“If I start chewing, I just feel worse. I’ll usually just have some water and a cigarette. If I have time, coffee.”

“You can’t be having that French girl breakfast. You just can’t.” That gets a laugh out of him. “You’re becoming a French girl, and you’re laughing. Carmy! This is serious.” That only makes him laugh harder.

“Do all French girls also have stomach issues?” He wheezes out. That sets off their laughter.

“I don’t know. You tell me, Ms. France.”

“Wait, stop, I don’t wanna be in a beauty pageant.”

“Then stop following their diet! Look—” They try to speak again, and they cut themself off with more laughter. “Okay. No. I’m fine. I’m not laughing. You, you need to eat. No skipping meals.”

“I usually end up having lunch,” he argues.

“Y’know, as someone whose whole life is food, I would expect you to know the importance of breakfast more.”

“Just because I know it’s important doesn’t mean I’m gonna have it.”

“Hm. I don’t love your reasoning. Stop laughing! I’m mad at you. I’m so mad I’m gonna give you homework.”

“Homework? Just so you know, I wasn’t a good student.”

“It’s okay, I grade on a curve. Here’s your homework—you are going to use my protein powder that is sitting in the cabinet to the right of the fridge, and you’re going to put it in some milk. And then you’re gonna drink that shit. That’s what I have when I wake up nauseous.”

“I think I can try that.” His cheeks hurt from smiling. “Do you accept late work?” That makes them sigh dramatically, making a show of it.

“I suppose. Just don’t make it a habit! I won’t be this lenient every time.”

“Yeah, you will,” Carmy says without thinking. They gasp.

“No, I won’t! I can be mean.”

“I don’t think you have a mean bone in your body.”

“That’s actually a really nice thing to say, but keep this up and you’ll see my mean side!”

He doesn’t mean to laugh, but he does. That just ruffles them up further.

“You just don’t seem real, sometimes,” he admits. “It scares me.”

“It does?” He has to commend them for their calm reaction.

“Good things scare me, I think. I know that's…fucked up, but…”

“No, it makes sense. It shouldn't, but…it does to me.” He can't place their expression. It's some mixture of nostalgic and haunted. Or maybe just plain haunted.

“Yeah?” They nod. “That's not good,” he mumbles, and the beauty of their shared, awful truth makes them both smile.

“Well.” Their cheeks are less flushed, but there's still a dusting of color, like faint cocoa powder on cake. “I promise that I am, in fact, very real.”

“Pinky promise?” Carmy doesn't know where that comes from. They have a habit of bringing a strange silliness out of him.

“Pinky promise. I'll even prove it to you.”

“How do you plan on doing that, exactly?”

“Easy.” They outstretch their arms, and it clicks in his head with a rush. “Unless you're the sort of person that's not into hugging.”

“No, I am.” The words rush out, as if they're desperate to keep the offer on the table. “I mean, I hug my family when I see ‘em.”

“I'll admit, I'm a hugger. I give my friends hugs all the time. I just didn't know if you minded that sort of thing.”

“I don't mind. I like them, um…just don't usually initiate ‘em, I guess.” The anticipation is speeding up the beat of his heart like a coach on the sidelines.

“Then bring it in, big guy,” they say, and he leans in.

The last time they hugged each other, Carmy was sleep-deprived and they were half-lucid from alcohol. This time is different. It's purposeful, tight, and all-encompassing. Their arms go over his shoulders and link around his neck to bring him in close. His arms naturally slot underneath theirs, meeting in the middle of their back.

He can feel their hair tickling his neck. His heartbeat is in his ears, and he prays they can't hear it. They squeeze him, light, and his eyes flutter shut.

“This is better,” Carmy whispers. He doesn't know why he's whispering. He supposes his mouth being so close to their ear makes him quiet.

“Better than what?” Their voice has gone soft to match his. The vibrations next to his ear send a slim shiver up his spine.

“Than the first time we hugged.” He pauses. “Unless you don't remember.”

“I remember.” They laugh, breathy and shy. “God. Sorry if that made you uncomfortable.”

“It didn't.” He tightens his hold on them. He doesn't know if they meant for the hug to last this long, but they're warm and perfect to hold. They smell like smoke and a flower he can't place.

“Good.” He feels them turning their head, shifting their face into his hair, and he thinks his heart is going to explode, turning into a red jam inside of him. “So, am I real or what?”

“Mm, you're real. You've convinced me.” He thinks he could fall asleep like this. Sadly, as soon as he says that, they take it as the cue to unlink their bodies.

Their hair's messy from where it was pressed up against the side of his head. He notices how cold he feels without them.

“If you need reminding, just let me know.” Their cheeks are rosy again. Cute. “Like I said, I'm a hugger, so…”

“I wouldn't be opposed.” I think I need that, actually, he thinks to himself.

“Okay. Good to know.”

“Um.” Awkwardness is suddenly his primary emotion. “Shit, I didn't even think to check the time. What time is it?”

“Lemme check.” They pull out their phone from their pocket. “12:40 am.”

Carmy sighs.

“Better than I thought.” When he stands up off the couch, he feels every aching muscle protesting in disapproval. “I should sleep in my actual bed. But, um…” He fidgets with his hands, anxious. “Thank you. For staying with me. And talking to me about stuff.”

“You don't have to thank me. Thank you for trusting me with all that.” They cock their head to the side as they look up at him. Cute, he thinks again, unbearably. “I feel like I know you a lot better.”

“Mm.” Carmy feels his face getting hot, meaning he has to change the topic as quickly as possible. “It feels nice. Being known by you. I…” He thinks about that night he held their hair behind them as they cried into the toilet. I want to know you, Carmy, they whispered, beautifully genuine even in their drunken stupor. “I want to know you, too,” he finally allows himself to say, and he knows by the full feeling in his chest that it's the truth.

They get that shy smile he's seen so much of today. Carmy realizes he likes that he's the one that keeps making them smile like that.

“Okay, then. I wouldn't mind that.” They stand up from the couch next, and they stretch their arms far above their head. “Maybe another night, though. It's late.”

“Right. I didn't mean…”

“Hey, if we didn't both have work tomorrow, I'd love to keep talking.” There goes their uncanny ability to wash his anxieties away so easily, a washcloth dissolving dirt. They start walking down the hallway to their bedrooms, and he trails behind them on instinct. “But I think we've kept each other up late too many nights recently.”

“I think so, yeah.” Without context, that'd make his stomach squirm with the implications. Their bedroom's first down the hall, so they move to hover in their doorway. “Um,” he starts, a sudden unspeakable urge gripping him, “just one more thing.”

“What is it?”

Fuck it, Carmy thinks. Fuck it.

With only minimal hesitation, he leans down and pulls them into a hug. They make a small noise of surprise, but they reciprocate almost instantly.

“Just wanted to double check,” he mumbles. He keeps the hug short this time, because he knows if he doesn't, he won't be able to let go.

“Still real, right?”

“Still real.”

“Good idea, to double check.” They step backwards, one hand on their door. “G'night, Carmy. I'll see you tomorrow.”

“G'night,” he murmurs back. “See you.”

I'm fucked, Carmy realizes once the door shuts. The hallway is dark, and there is an unusual amount of good in his life. I'm so fucked.

@zorrasucia @carmenberzattosgf @carmenbrzatto

#carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #the bear #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x you #the bear fanfiction #my fics #OKAYY this ones a big one. i had a LOT of fun with the prose in this. i can rly feel myself improving which is awesome #was gonna make it shorter but then i just kept playing around with the dialogue and! well here we are #also thanks again everyone that's actually stuck with this fic. i still have a hard time believe ppl rly read this with how long it is #carmy is on the verge of snapping soon.... i have a feeling next ch is gonna be a big one folks #alexithymia fic

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lilacsnid · 1 year

Text

Don’t You Think It’s Time? — 𝙁𝙞𝙣𝙣 𝙎𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙗𝙮 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 (𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙏𝙒𝙊)

PART ONE ✘

It had already been a couple of weeks since the night of the encounter. Y/N didn’t let the incident stop her from going to work and seeing her patients. As she rode through the streets of Small Heath, she would often catch glimpses of Finn Shelby. Whether it was outside The Garrison or anywhere else where he seemed to of been running errands.

Whenever the pair would lock eyes, it’s almost as if time stood still.

Y/N would blush, and Finn would feel his heart pick up it’s pace just from the mere sight of her. She was driving him crazy. They would smile at one another or perhaps even wave. However, no words were ever said due to the fact that both of them were busy whenever their paths would cross.

On this particular day, something was different. It was another early start for Y/N, though she didn’t mind. As much as she loved her job, she couldn’t deny how excited she was to have the weekend off.

Finn had woken up that morning with that same feeling in his chest he’d get whenever he would see her. He hasn’t been able to think of anyone else apart from her since that night. She was all he could seem to think about. It didn’t help that the vision of her would visit him in his dreams, almost every night.

He couldn’t go on another day. The thought of her this time simply wasn’t enough. He wanted to see her before he really did go crazy.

The youngest Shelby sat up against the headboard of his bed, slowly rubbing his hands over his tired face. Flicking open his pocket watch, it read to be 11:37am. Usually he would be up much earlier than this, but fortunately for him; his weekend had started early.

Tommy was away on business in London and Arthur had everything covered in his absence. With the amount of jobs his brothers have had him doing these past couple of weeks, Finn wasn’t going to turn down the opportunity of having a weekend off.

To do whatever he wanted. With a particular someone.

✘ ✘ ✘ ✘

The day went by fairly quickly for Y/N. It was around 4:00 in the afternoon, which meant her weekend had finally started. She didn’t have any plans, but she didn’t seem to mind. After a busy day, there was nothing else that excited her more.

That’s what she thought, until she caught a glimpse of Finn Shelby. Suddenly, there was nothing else more exciting than seeing the man she had been longing for since he had walked her home only weeks ago.

He was in his typical Peaky Blinder attire. He was wearing a dark grey suit with a typical white dress shirt and a matching vest underneath. He wore a blue tie, having a diamond pattern on it. Y/N liked it, she thought it suited him.

He wore the signature cap with pride, and she noticed a cigarette between his fingers as he leaned against the wall. He looked confident this way, and it made her nervous. But in the best way possible.

As she began getting closer to the bike shed, he noticed her out of the corner of his eye. His head turned, as he was met with the girl he hadn’t managed to stop thinking about since he had first laid eyes on her.

She was already smiling, which lit up her whole face. Her eyes were bright, and Finn knew it was going to be a challenge to not stare into them and make himself weak in the knees. He took one last drag of his cigarette before tossing it on the ground an making his way over to her.

Y/N put her bike away, grabbing her nursing bag before turning to face him.

“Well if it isn’t Finn Shelby!” She said, her heart going a million miles an hour due to the fact that she was finally standing across from him.

Finn gave a cheeky smile in response, taking his cap off as he stopped in his tracks, “Hi love.”

Love, he was using pet names now. If he kept going she wasn’t sure how she would be able to cope.

“How you doing?” he followed up, running a hand through his hair and looking down at her.

“I’m good, yeah,” She nodded her head, “Just been keeping myself busy.”

Finn tilted his head to the side slightly, “I know the feeling.”

Her gaze narrowed slightly, in a humorous sort of way, “Not that I’m complaining, but what are you doing here?”

Her words caused him to look at the ground for a second before glancing back into her eyes, those beautiful eyes.

“Well,” Finn started, a wave a nerves suddenly washing over him.

A few seconds went by, the two of them just staring into each other’s eyes as if everyone in the whole world had stopped existing for a short moment and they were the only ones left.

Finn broke the silence, “Fancy getting out of Small Heath for a bit?”

✘ ✘ ✘ ✘

The pair were now in the car. Finn in the driver’s seat with Y/N next to him. As they drove out of Small Heath, watching brick buildings being replaced with green fields, it’s like they could feel all their worries disappearing away.

Y/N had changed into a dress before they left and had taken her hair out, letting it fall free over her shoulders and back.

She was leaning against the window on the passenger side of the car, looking out of her surroundings. While she was admiring the landscape, Finn couldn’t seem to stop admiring her. She looked so comfortable and it was invigorating for Finn to see her this way.

He couldn’t help but steal glances between her and the road ahead of him. He loved hearing her comment about how lovely the land looked, or how she would smile at him, or even how her hair would be picked up by the wind coming through the window.

He was growing rather fond of this girl, even more so with every minute that passed while they were together.

The pair of them were beyond glad that they were finally spending some time alone together, on happier circumstances this time. She knew she had nothing to worry about while she was with him.

Y/N had this overwhelming feeling of adoration and proximity, he made her feel alive.

“Where exactly did you say we’re going again?” She giggled, the sound making him grin from ear to ear.

“I didn’t,” he joked, “But we’re nearly there.”

She shook her head at him with a smile, leaning back into the seat.

Finn wasn’t sure what came over him as he took one hand off the steering wheel, reaching out for her own. Y/N placed her hand into his, loving how it felt so familiar.

She took notice of his family ring that he wore on his index finger. It was a gold ring with a black gemstone, which glimmered in the light.

He squeezed her hand, taking his eyes off the road momentarily to glance at her, “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” she beamed, “I trust you Finn Shelby.”

That was all he wanted to hear in that moment. His heart fell back into it’s normal rhythm, feeling reassured in the fact that she still felt safe with him.

Without a second thought, Finn lifted her hand to to his face. His eyes were still watching the road as he placed a kiss to the back of her hand, his lips lingering for a few seconds.

Y/N was in awe of him, wanting to commit this exact moment in her memory forever.

✘ ✘ ✘ ✘

It was only about 15 minutes before Finn pulled the car over near a bridge.

He turned the car off and faced her, “We’re walking from here, it’s not far. Is that okay?”

Y/N nodded, opening the car door, “That’s fine!”

The two of them jumped out of the car. It felt good to stand up after being sat down in the car for at least an hour and a half. As Y/N was waiting for Finn to walk around to her side of the car, she closed her eyes momentarily.

The air around them was pleasantly warm. The sun was low in the sky, meaning the sunset shouldn’t be too far away.

Finn stood beside her, looking down at her with a smile, “You ready?”

Y/N nodded, taking his hand as he reached out for her’s once again.

Finn led the way down a concrete path, surrounded by trees. The pair chatted comfortably as they walked for a few minutes.

“Not long now,” Finn reassured her as they kept walking. She noticed the path had started to end and they were now walking on grass, down a small hill. She held onto Finn’s hand tightly, not wanting to trip and embarrass herself.

Y/N could start to hear the sound of flowing water getting increasing louder as they kept walking through the trees. Finn soon halted as she stood beside him, swinging their arms slightly to which their hands were still linked.

“Wow,” Y/N exclaimed, taking in her surroundings.

In front of them was a large bed of crystal clear water, in a clearing surrounded by trees where the sun was starting to cut through. There was a small waterfall at the very top. The soft sound of running water was like music to her ears.

The sun was visible behind the trees as it was slowly setting.

She dropped Finn’s hand, making her way over to the edge of the water. She knelt down on the soft grass, running the tips of her fingers through the water.

“What do you think?” Finn questioned, placing his hands in his trouser pockets while smiling down at her.

Y/N marvelled the beauty in front of her. She glanced over her should to look at him, “I think it’s beautiful.”

In this moment, she decided to act on her impulsive thoughts. To Finn’s utter shock and surprise, Y/N stood to her feet rather quickly as she started to unbutton the front of her dress.

Finn’s eyes widen at this, “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m going for a swim, care to join?” She chuckled, still trying fiddle with the buttons on her dress.

“Y/N,” Finn spoke, trying not to let the thought of her unbuttoning her dress do things to him, “It’ll be freezing. I’d hate for you to end up getting sick!”

She grinned, glancing at him over her shoulder as her dress began to fall slowly off her shoulders, “The water feels fine. C’mon! I thought you were a Shelby; you’re not scared are you?”

Finn breathed out through his lips, shaking his head with a grin plastered across his face as he started taking off his suit jacket.

“You’re a lot braver than me Miss Y/L/N,” Finn spoke as he turned around, wanting to give her some privacy.

She took another glance over her shoulder and watched as Finn took his gun holster off from around his shoulders. She couldn’t help but think about how attractive he looked and how he made her feel certain ways that gave her butterflies in her stomach with excitement.

Once Finn had stripped down to his boxers, he turned around, the sight nearly making his eyes pop out of his head.

There she was, standing in the water just up to her ankles in nothing but her undergarments. Finn instantly stopped from trailing his eyes down her figure, shaking any inappropriate thoughts out of his head. He respected this girl too much.

He made his way down to her and stood by her side, hardly being fazed by the temperature of the water. Purely to be bold; instead of staying by her side, he kept walking until the water was up to his waist. Turning around, he noticed she still stood in place.

“Who’s scared now?” Finn raised his eyebrows, staring into her eyes from where he stood.

Y/N chuckled, “It’s actually colder than what I once thought.”

He smiled softly, slowly holding his hand out to her, “C’mon sweetheart, I promise it’s not that bad once you get used to it.”

By god, she adored the man standing in front of her. She already knew she would follow him anywhere.

Y/N sighed, crossing her arms over her chest and she slowly made her way towards him. She resisted the urge to squeal as she kept walking, but she couldn’t control the way she screwed her eyes shut at the feeling of the cold water making it’s way up her legs.

She glanced up to find that as she was slowly making her way forward, Finn took a couple of steps back, starting to trek a little deeper.

“Don’t you dare move, Finn Shelby!” She warned, not wanting to take her eyes off him.

He chuckled in response, now standing completely still in place, “I’m sorry. I won’t move.”

As she neared closer to him, Finn met her halfway so she wouldn’t have to walk as far.

“You doing okay?” Finn questioned as he stood in front of her.

The two of them were so close to one another that she could feel the warm radiating off him. Just like the night when he saved her and the way he sheltered her from the rain.

“I’m better now,” Y/N looked down momentarily before starting to look back up at him through her eyelashes.

Finn smiled, reaching his hand out once again, “Still feeling brave?”

She shrugged her shoulders with a growing smile, taking the hand he was offering in her own.

He nodded; slowing starting to walk back further into the water, expecting her to follow him. She took one step forward and squealed, yanking him back. Finn laughed at her reaction, stepping forward to stand close to her once again.

“It’s freezing!” She whined, not daring to let go of his hand.

Y/N reached up before Finn had the chance to speak, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. He chuckled at her reaction and felt her legs start to snake around his waist, holding onto him for dear life. Finn carefully wrapped his arms around her back and slowly started to walk further into the water.

She had her head resting against his, shutting her eyes as they were now almost completely submerged in the water.

He could hear her whimpering and laughing into his ear, “See how brave you are?”

The pair chuckled in unison and soon fell into a comfortable silence. Finn stood his ground, swaying slowly as they continued to embrace. Y/N hoped he wouldn’t be able to hear her heart thumping against her chest. The only sounds to be heard were the water flowing, the call of birds and their breathing. It was pure bliss.

“Don’t hate me,” Finn said out of nowhere. Instead of waiting for a response he slipped under the water for a couple of seconds, taking her with him.

After they resurfaced, they still held on tightly to one another.

“Finn!” Y/N screamed in disbelief, wiping the water from her eyes.

He laughed, the sound vibrating through his chest and against her skin. Y/N kept her arms wrapped around his neck, but loosened her grip slightly as she glanced up at the sky.

“Look at all those colours,” she whispered, taking in all the beauty above them.

The sky had now changed colour. Turning all different shades of blue, purple, pink and orange. It made this place feel like she was in a dream.

As she glanced up to the sky, so did Finn. However, his eyes were only on the sky for a few seconds before they began trailing over her face.

He took in every single detail. The way her cheeks were a light shade of pink, the subtle freckles that grazed over certain parts of her face, her long eyelashes, even the way small droplets of water fell down her face. He couldn’t control his ever growing feelings for her.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

Y/N instantly glanced down at him, not believing she had heard the words correctly that had just toppled out of his lips.

She noticed the way he was intently looking at her with hooded eyes. A look of astonishment. He was in awe of her, and he wasn’t trying to hide it in any way.

They both stared into each other’s eyes, neither of them wanting this moment to end.

Y/N smiled, leaning forward to press her forehead against his. She kept playing the words in her head, over and over again.

“Say it again,” she whispered, her breath hot against his face.

Finn kept looking at her through hooded eyes, moving closer to her if that was even possible. He kept one of his arms wrapped around her and trailed the other up her spine until he reached the back of her neck, cradling her.

“You,” he started, dropping his head down to place an innocent kiss to her chest; right over her heart, he could feel hear her hum in contentment.

“….Are so beautiful,” he finished the sentence, his gaze never once leaving her plump and pink lips.

Y/N smiled, not being able to contain the trapped words anymore, “Kiss me, Finn Shelby.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. Finn met her eyes one more time before gently placing his lips onto hers. The two of them sighed in relief against each other’s lips. He pulled away slowly, just for a moment before leaning back in.

They kissed slowly and sensually, never wanting it to stop. Y/N felt his hands rubbing comforting circles into her back, making her feel like she was floating. Finn then moved his hands from her back to her thighs, keeping her in place against him.

Y/N hummed against his lips, not being able to hide how good he was making her feel. She let her arms unwrap from his neck, and placed her hands against his shoulders instead.

Finn could feel her start to run her nails gently up his neck and to the back of his head, running through his hair before she cupped his cheeks, not wanting him to ever pull away.

A few more minutes had passed before they both pulled away, giggling as their foreheads rested against each other once again.

“You’re all I’ve been able to think about since we first met,” Finn whispered against her lips.

Y/N grinned, rubbing circles into his cheeks as she continued to cup his face, “So have you.”

Finn groaned, causing her to laugh as he pecked her lips once more, “Can we just stay like this forever?”

“I have no objections against that, Mr Shelby.”

3146 words

©lilacsnid

#finn shelby #finn shelby x reader #finn shelby imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #finn shelby fanfiction #john shelby #tommy shelby #harry kirton #arthur shelby #finn shelby x y/n #finn shelby x you #finn shelby fanfic #finn shelby smut

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mermaidgirl30 · 1 month

Text

✨Crimson Tango: A Dance of Diamonds and Revenge Ch 4: Come What May✨

Series Masterlist

A/N: Another long, soft chapter of Joel and reader being in love 🥰 Me and @mountainsandmayhem have been having so much fun with this series!

Chapter Summary: After your uncle finds out about Joel, you take matters into your own hands.

Pairing: Joel x fem! reader

Word Count: 9.7k

Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)

Chapter Tags: Brief angst, lots of fluff, lots of smut, use of vibrator, oral receiving (fem), handcuffs, flirting, Joel and reader being in love, Joel and reader go on date

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

You wake up to the sounds of cheerful birds chirping their good mornings to each other. You left the balcony door open last night, and the cool morning air of fall rustles in through the sheer pink curtains. The sun sends bursts of light across the room as shadows splay around the intricate walls.

Peeling your eyes open, you see Joel is still fast asleep beside you. The orange glow of the morning sun alighting him in a golden warmth. He’s so handsome, so beautiful as his chest rises and falls slowly in waves, his tousled curls falling delicately over his forehead.

I love you, you say in your head before placing a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Good mornin’, darlin’,” he murmurs softly, his voice deep and coated thick with sleep. Without opening his eyes he pulls you into his broad chest, and you melt effortlessly into his warmth.

“Morning, handsome,” you smile into the crook of his neck as his hands trail up and down your back slowly.

“So, I was thinkin’. Maybe this afternoon you could meet me at my apartment? I could show you around my place, and if you’re up for it, you could show me how to use that pottery wheel over there?” He nods to the wooden pottery wheel that sits in the corner of the room and looks back at you with a gleam in his brown eyes.

“Oh, you want to learn some pottery skills? What peaked your interest?” you ask, fluttering your sleep coated eyelashes up at him as he gently caresses your cheek.

“You did, darlin’,” he smirks, face so handsome in the glow of the morning yellow sun as his brown irises look at you affectionately.

God, you love this man so much.

He leans down and kisses you softly, his plush lips melding into yours as you wrap your fingers around his messy curls. You slot your lips open and let him taste you, relish in you as you get lost in the slow, romantic kiss. He tastes like a piece of something you want to keep forever. When he breaks the kiss, you groan and open your eyes back up to his flawless face.

He’s so pretty.

“Well, if you want to learn then we need to pick up a few things at the store. I need some more clay. So, how about I meet you at your place in say a couple hours? Then we can pick up some supplies and come back here. How does that sound, handsome?” you smirk as you trail your fingers along his patchy scruff, the hair soft and coarse under your fingertips.

“Sounds perfect, darlin’.”

He stares at you for a few more seconds, sunlight flashing through his golden eyes, then he gets up and buttons his flannel up and slips his leather boots on. You internally groan as you see him start to leave. You don’t want him to leave, you don’t ever want him to leave.

Before he walks out the door, he rushes over to you and leaves you one more long lasting kiss on your lips. A kiss that burns through your entire body. Gentle, soft, hungry.

“See ya soon, darlin’. Bye, beautiful.”

He exits your room and right as you hear the door close, you lean back into your pillow and let out a long sigh. You’re so in love. Joel Miller is the love of your life. The only one for you.

Joel walks down the dim lit hallway with a huge smile on his face as he shoves one hand deep in his pocket, the other shaking out his ruffled curls. He loves you so fucking much. He can’t wait to see you again.

Just as he slides down the winding staircase, he misses something that lurks in the shadows. Something that could end his time here at the Moulin Rouge. That something is Edward, your uncle. The one that warned him never to touch the dancers. But he did, he did.

There’s only one condition, don’t touch my dancers.

Edward’s eyes glare at Joel, a deep anger burning through the course of his body as he snarls and clenches his fists together. Edward warned Joel, but he didn’t listen. He didn’t fucking listen. Edward fumes down the hallway, all teeth and grit as he slams on your bedroom door. He’ll make Joel pay.

You hear three large pounds on your bedroom door that make you jolt out of bed and throw your fluffy pink robe on. “Petal, open this fucking door!” your uncle yells as you run to the door in a hurry and open it up.

His face is fiery red, eyes narrowing as he walks in and slams the door shut with a bang. He paces around the quaint living quarters and stomps his elegant shiny shoes on the wooden floors. He looks at your unmade mess of a bed and scowls as you hear him curse under his breath.

Oh no. Joel.

He slowly turns back to you and clicks his tongue in a deceitful manner. You wipe sweat off your forehead as you gulp, waiting for the yelling to start. Just as you clasp your hands behind your back, he starts the yelling. “Joel was in here with you last night? In your bed!”

You wince as the accusations echo off the pink walls of your room and you shake your head no. “No, he wasn’t,” you lie, hoping he’ll take the bait.

“I saw him creeping out of your room this morning!” His words are hot, scathing, pulsing through your body as you feel your heart snap in half as your eyes go wide.

He knows.

“He uhh… he…” You don’t know what to say, what you can do to make the situation better. But you don’t want him to be fired. He can’t be fired. You can’t be the reason he loses a source of income. You just can’t.

“I warned him, petal. I told him to never touch the dancers. And look what he did. He touched the most sought after Diamond!” he yells, eyes bloodshot as he lets the anger feed his rage.

You panic and try to make it better. You have to make it better. “Please, uncle! I’m the one who pursued him. Don’t blame Joel. It wasn’t his fault. It was mine. I’m the one that asked him to stay last night. It was all me,” you say desperately, eyes as wide as the sun as you clamp down on your teeth and fight back a tear that licks the back of your eye.

He looks at you scornfully and crosses his arms over his chest as he furrows his thick eyebrows together. “I don’t care if you’re the one that pursued him, Joel could’ve said no. But obviously that was too hard to do, so allow me to take matters into my own hands,” he growls as he walks toward you and tries to push past your shoulder. You step in front of him and try to push him back.

“No! You can’t fire him, I won’t let you!” you scream, tears burning your eyes as you see him drop his mouth open and stare at you with gasping eyes.

He shakes his head sadly as his slicked back blonde hair holds in place. “I’m sorry, petal. I have to do this.” He tries to brush past you again, but you step in front of the door, not allowing him to pass until he listens to you. “Move, petal,” he demands, eyes burning through your skull.

“No,” you say with narrowed eyes. “If you fire him, I will walk out of this place and never turn back. I won’t see Terrance ever again, and your precious Moulin Rouge will close down for good.”

His jaw drops and his pupils expand as he gulps down a large breath of thick air. “Petal, just think this through,” he begs.

You cut him off and continue on with your demands. “No! I’ve thought this through long enough. It’s time to take back what I want, not what you want. I’ve done enough for you in this club. I’ve danced for those disgusting men for long enough. I’m done, uncle. Finished. You won’t find me up on that stage again.”

“But, petal! Those men come for you! You’re the star of this place. Do you know what that’ll do to business if you don’t dance?” he asks with sweaty palms, sweat pooling on the edge of his forehead as it glistens brightly by the blinding sun.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” you scoff. “You sold me to Terrance, so you made your bed. I don’t owe you anything anymore. I’ll continue to see him, for now. But I won’t get up on that stage ever again. You did this, uncle. You. You got your filthy money, so now I’ll get what I want. And that’s Joel.”

Your voice carries around the room, echoing back in your uncle’s ears as he stands there in a bind. His eyes worried and his stance not as tall as when he came in. He sees his mistakes now, the error of his ways. And now he’ll have to figure out how to fix the mess he put all of you in.

He sighs and nods his head slowly, eyes looking down at the polished wooden floor. “I’m sorry, petal. For everything. But I guess you’re right. I did put you in this mess and now I have to find a way to fix it.” His sad eyes trail back up to yours slowly, and for just a minute you feel a bit of sympathy for him wash over you. But then you remember he sold you to the worst of the men in this place. And for that you can’t forgive him.

“Just leave, please,” you sigh as you open the door wide, waiting for him to pass through. He gives you a sympathetic nod and drags his feet through, not looking back as you slam the door shut.

You rest against the back of the door and let out a long sigh, closing your eyes to go through the moments that just happened seconds ago. You did it. You saved Joel’s job, you told him you wouldn’t dance again. You fucking did it!

After simmering over your achievements of the day, you decide to get dressed and ready for the day. You have a date with Joel Miller, the love of your life.

Joel opens the worn wooden door of his apartment after hearing your soft knocks echo through his small space. You barely make it through the door and he’s already pulling you into arms, hugging you tightly and meeting your lips with his as you drink in his lush taste. His lips feel like velvet against yours and you can’t help but open your mouth for him, letting his tongue slide against yours slow and tenderly. You let out a desperate moan that he answers with a gentle pat on your ass before parting.

You look around his little apartment, taking in his private haven as sunlight pelts through the windows. Even though the building is old and probably about to fall apart, the inside of Joel’s small one bedroom apartment is beautiful. Wooden furniture in warm browns fills the space, a dark mahogany throw rug in the living room helps tie in the exposed brick wall along one side of the kitchen. It smells like leather and Joel and it feels like home. You love your frilly pink studio room at the Moulin Rouge, but this feels solid, a place you could settle and make memories, become a family.

You wander over to his couch, your hand smoothing along the warm light brown leather. “This is beautiful, all of your furniture is beautiful.”

He brings a hand up to rub the scruff on the back of his neck, almost like he’s embarrassed. “Thanks, I uh - I made it.”

Your eyes widen as you glance around at the couch, the large chair, the side tables and coffee table. Then your eyes dart to the kitchen where there’s a long wooden table that looks like it came from one tree sits, a bench on one side and three chairs along the other. “All of this?” you ask surprised, your lips parting in wonder. You’re not necessarily surprised, but why is he working as a maintenance man when he has all of this talent?

“Yes,” he nods as he joins you by the couch, resting his hip along the back of it as he crosses his large arms together, “all of it. Every piece of furniture in here I made. I have a small woodshop. That’s what I was doin’ to make money, but it wasn’t payin’ the bills so, well, you know.”

“Wow.” You really aren’t sure what to say, especially when his arms are crossed like that, making all the cords of muscle lining his biceps pop out. You trail your eyes down to take in his thick forearms, veins protruding slightly. You avert your eyes toward the two doors across from the couch. “What’s behind that door?” you ask teasingly.

“The bathroom,” he says flatly.

“Oh,” you giggle, “and the other one?”

His eyes turn mischievous, a little smirk pulling at his right cheek, “My bedroom, baby girl.”

“Did you make the furniture there, too?” you ask, fluttering your lashes at him.

He lets out a quiet laugh through his nose. “Are you askin’ to see my bedroom, darlin’?”

You brush past Joel towards the bedroom door, over your shoulder you say, “Well, how am I supposed to tell my friends where to buy their furniture if I don’t see the whole collection?”

Joel takes a few long strides and ends up right behind you as you reach for the solid door knob. You can feel the heat of his chest as his hand beats yours to the door. He turns the knob slowly, his breath tickling your neck as he says, “If you wanted to try out my bed, that’s all you had to say.” He has the biggest smirk on his face that looks like he wants to get in a little trouble. You just shake your head and laugh.

He opens the door and you smile at his unmade bed, white sheets all twisted into each other like he flew out of it the other morning to get to you. The bed frame is made of the same wood, vertical slats running along it, and you have no idea how someone could make such intricate but sturdy looking furniture. He has a small dresser and one bedside table. There’s a vanilla candle on the bedside table that’s never been lit, but the wax fills the room with a smoky scent. Again, you find yourself feeling that this is a home. He is home.

“You know,” you say as you wander to his bed, “the other dancers say that you can tell a lot about a man by what's in his bedside table.”

“That so?” Joel asks with a raised eyebrow, following you and sitting on the edge of the bed near the pillows as he watches you graze your hand on the wooden material.

“Mm-hmm,” you nod your head and put your hand on the knob to the drawer.

Joel parts his legs and pulls you into him by your waist as you feel his calloused fingers trail along your skin. His honey eyes stare deeply into yours, “Go ahead then, darlin’, see what kind of man I am.”

You don’t break his eye contact, slowly pulling the drawer open with your right hand, the left carding through the curls at the back of his head. When he’s sitting on the bed, he’s in line with your chest, his breath fanning across the top part of your dress. It hits your nipples lightly and you are so glad you decided to go braless today.

Once the drawer is open, he cocks an eyebrow at you. “Well?”

You turn your head to look in the drawer, and while you weren’t sure what to expect, it definitely wasn’t what’s lying in front of you. Your cheeks grow pink as you reach for the first item, handcuffs. The cool metal of the handcuffs feel powerful in your hands. You feel powerful.

“Well well, Miller. Have a lot of girls coming through here?” you smirk, eyes narrowing playfully as you take in his nervous glance.

He laughs and shakes his head, “No baby. Not for a long time.”

“You have the key for these?” you ask, popping open one of the silver cuffs. Joel nods, so you quickly clasp his left wrist with one side of the cuff and then thread the other side through the spacers in the bed frame. Joel doesn’t pull away or stop you, even though he very easily could overpower you and have you naked and strapped to his bed in a matter of seconds.

You twist out of his grasp, grabbing the second item from the nightstand and step back so you’re just inches out of his reach. “Oops,” you say as innocently as possible, fluttering your eyelashes as you send him a mischievous wink.

“Whatcha doin’, baby girl?” Joel’s eyes are starting to glaze over the same way they did when he was licking your pussy in your kitchen the other night.

You hold the small vibrator from his drawer tightly in your palm, hooking your thumbs under the straps of your dress as you slide the material down your arms. You keep your eyes locked on Joel, bottom lip slipping between your teeth as you let the dress fall to the ground with a quiet whooshing sound as it pools at your feet.

“Nothing,” you say, still using an innocent voice. Joel lets out a whispered ‘fuuuuck’ as he takes in your body in nothing but a small black thong. You spin around and hook your thumbs into the waistband of the lace as you slowly tease him.

You hear the handcuffs rub along the wooden bedframe and even though you can’t see him, you know he’s trying to reach out to you. You start to bend at the hip, pushing your ass out to Joel as you drag the thong down your legs as it lands in a heap on the floor. At this angle, you’re on full display to Joel. He can see you're already glistening for him, already so fucking wet.

“Goddamn, darlin’, you’re so fucking pretty.”

As you stand back up, you run your nails gently along the sides of your smooth legs and curvy hips, gathering your thick hair to one side. You glance over your shoulder at Joel as you let out a very seductive, “Oops.”

“Don’t tease me, baby. I’m a weak man when it comes to you.”

“Oh I’m not teasing, just consider this payback for the sink thing the other night.” You kick your dress and panties to the side before sinking to the floor. You plant your feet firmly in front of you and rest back on your elbows. “I’m going to make you watch.”

You relax your knees as they fall open, your pussy on full display for Joel to drool over. He jerks forward and groans at the tug from the handcuffs. “Goddamn, you’re so wet baby, I can see it from here,” he groans, a desperate plea for you to open the handcuffs for him. He wants to touch you so fucking badly.

You adjust your weight on one elbow and bring the small vibrator to your pussy, leaving it off as you spread your arousal slowly through your folds with the shiny toy. You let out a tiny moan, and it’s empowering having Joel tied up as he watches you tease him. His eyes rake over your body, but anytime he talks he’s staring into your eyes. Men don’t often look you in the eye, but you are more than a body to Joel. You’re everything to him. His special Diamond.

You turn the vibrator on low and your whole body jolts when it hits your clit, electric pulses coursing through your body as you hold on for dear life.

“Fuck baby, you look so gorgeous right now. You gonna make yourself come?” His voice is deeper with arousal as you can see his hard cock bulging in his pants. It looks so enticing, but you need to concentrate.

You gasp as you continue to tease yourself with the vibrator. “Y-yes,” you moan, “and then I’m going to do it again and again, until you’re begging me to come over to you.”

“Oh, so this is what we’re doin’? Seein’ who breaks first?”

You giggle and nod your head, you’re already so close, heat building in the lowest parts of your spine. “Okay, if that’s what you want,” he smirks, his voice a quiet whisper as he undoes the button of his jeans and slides them down, palming his hard cock through his boxers.

You moan his name, just on the edge of your orgasm.

“Show me, be a good girl and show me how you make yourself come,” he instructs, eyes wide with black lust taking over.

The heat in your lower spine spreads rapidly and your legs start shaking. You throw your head back. “No, look at me when you come,” Joel commands. You snap your head back and lock eyes, his brow furrowed, jaw clenched as he watches you. “That’s it, come on, darlin’, show me what my voice and my commands do to you.”

“Joel!” you yell and your orgasm hits, pulsing hot through your whole body. Your breaths come out shaky as you ride out the small vibrator in your hand unashamed. “Fuck-fuck. Oh my God, Joel.”

“That’s my good girl, so good for me.” Just as your orgasm starts to ease Joel says, “Turn it up, I want to see you come again.”

You do as he says, somehow this has turned from you teasing him to him teasing you, but you aren’t going to give in first. As much as you want his hands on you, you are going to win this.

“Feels s’good, Joel. S-so good.” You’re sure you look like a mess already as you feel a thin sheen of sweat on your forehead.

“Yeah? You gonna break? I could do that for you, baby girl. You could just lie down and enjoy it. Let me take care of you,” he smirks, dark eyes glazing over as he stares straight into your eyes. It’s almost alarming how hypnotized he looks, the look of love above lust swirling in his dark eyes. You can see it now, and it makes you feel a thousand things at once.

“N-never,” you stutter, swirling the vibrator around your sensitive clit as your legs begin to shake uncontrollably.

“That feel good, baby girl?” he asks, his lips curling up as he knows it does. He just wishes he could do something about it.

You moan and shiver in response, a second orgasm just on the edge of breaking. Something in Joel’s eyes seems lighter as he watches you, something that makes your heart pump just for him.

“Come, baby. Enjoy it, cuz you’re gonna break and then I’m gonna absolutely ruin you,” he smirks as a devilish grin takes over his beautiful face.

Your legs start to quake, you can already feel that the second orgasm is going to take over your entire body. You ease off your clit to taunt Joel. “You’ll be breaking the headboard before I give in.”

Joel’s features soften, his voice a deep baritone as he says, “I’d do more than break a headboard to be near you. The moment that spotlight hit your soft porcelain skin, my entire world collapsed in on itself. I would rearrange the stars just to be close to you. I’d swim across the furthest ocean just to see those beautiful eyes. I’d give up food and water if it meant getting to hold you in my arms. Even if it’s only for just a second. You, my perfect little Diamond, are all that matters to me.”

The air in the room has changed from playful to overwhelmingly intimate. It almost crushes in on you like a large boulder, and you never want it to stop.

You pull the vibrator from your clit, but you remain open to him, knees parted as your eyes water over. He’s not looking at your weeping pussy. No. His honey colored eyes are wholly focused on yours now. You get the inkling you’re the most important person in his world now, and it completely overwhelms you. He’s your world. Him.

“What?” It comes out in a tiny whisper, your mouth parted as your eyes softly bore into his.

He continues, “You are all that matters to me. This might sound crazy and irrational, but I knew from the moment I saw you on that stage. I knew you were the one. You are it for me, darlin’. This is it for me. Forever.”

Forever? Oh.

You swallow hard, scared to blink, breathe, or move just in case none of this is real.

Joel whispers your name, tears building along his lash line, “I love you.”

“That’s cheating…” you whisper, your words barely making a sound over the thick tension in the little room as the sunlight beams through the glass window.

“I’m not playing the game anymore, darlin’. I love you.”

The words reverberate around in your skull. He loves you, he knew the moment he saw you. You abandon the small toy on the floor as you stand up and start to pad over to him. “Say it again.”

He clears his throat and looks straight at you, eyes staring right into your soul. “Nothing in my life has made sense lately. And then I saw you. The Sparkling Diamond, my Diamond. Something in my gut pulled me towards you, darlin’. This is it for me, baby girl. I’m in love with you. I have been from the moment I laid eyes on you.”

You stare at Joel, lips parted and eyebrows knit together as a wet tear rolls down your cheek. You don’t think you’ve ever cried a happy tear over anything, nonetheless a man. But Joel… he was different. He made you so happy, the happiest you’ve ever been in your entire life.

Joel’s uncuffed hand reaches up to you, his rough palm facing the ceiling. You step forward and clasp his hand in yours as you knit your fingers together, letting his calloused fingers run along the back of your hand. His skin is so warm, inviting like a soft bed. He pulls you close, kissing your knuckles softly before placing your hand on his broad, tanned shoulder as he moves his hand to trace along your hip, then down to your thigh.

“Key?” you ask, voice cracking through the emotion in your chest.

His eyes fall to the drawer in his bedside table, and you see the small silver key at the back of the drawer. He had easy access to that key the entire time, but he didn’t take it, he wanted you to be in charge and do what felt right to you.

You wrap one hand around his wrist, using the other to unlock the cuff with a small click. The moment he’s free, his hands come to your body, pulling you between his legs as he places light kisses along your sternum. Your hands card through his tousled curls and he moans at your gentle touch before sucking your pebbled nipple into his mouth. You cry out in pleasure and then crawl up into his lap, straddling him slowly. He’s almost painfully hard, cock straining the fabric of his boxers.

“Joel,” you moan, rocking your hips along his long length. Your hand snakes between your bodies to pull him out of his boxers. When you pull him out, you see he’s massive.

Your eyes go wide as you take in his large cock. You watch a bead of pre cum glistening on the tip and you reach over to slowly spread it around with your thumb. Both of your breathing is labored, eyes glazed over in anticipation. You both want each other so badly. Both gasping for breath as you smell thick arousal encasing the air, the tension strong as you feel it in the room. It’s hot, strong, thick, and you want to taste it.

“Whatcha doin’ there, baby girl?” he says again, more passionate this time around.

You lift up slightly and press the tip into your waiting, wet heat, feeling just how big he is as you choke out a moan. You stop once the thick, rounded tip is inside of you and rest your forehead on his. “I love you too, Joel.”

He smiles sweetly at you, cupping your face in his large palms before kissing you deeply and passionately. You rock your hips, sliding him in more as you feel the stretch start to happen. You feel every inch and ridge of him until your bodies are flush together. Both of you moan into the kiss, your body shuttering against his as you take him deeper, harder.

“I got you,” he whispers between kisses, his coffee scent encapsulating you completely.

You roll into him again, the feeling of him filling and stretching you causes a new surge of wetness between your thighs, your nails digging hard down his back at the extreme pleasure. You roll again, the soft part of his abdomen putting gentle pressure on your clit.

“Oh God - Joel - aaaah.” His hands move from your face, gliding over the smooth skin of your neck and shoulders, tracing the dips and curves of your back and hips before resting on the globes of your ass. He moves with your rhythm, helping you take what you want.

“That’s my good girl,” he whispers, voice gravelly and rough, yet somehow tender and full of care. “You’re close, ain’t ya?”

You grind down on him hard, mouth falling open in a silent scream as you feed off the ecstasy of how full he’s making you. He feels so good, and your clit is still so sensitive from the vibrator. “Mmmm - yes, Joel.”

Joel helps you move faster and harder against him, trying his hardest not to come and end this because he wants you to take what you want. All you do is give to others, and he swore to himself the second he saw you that he would make this world yours. Anything you want, whenever you want it. He will always find a way - for you.

“Say it again,” you moan, hands moving back up to the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I love you,” he whispers, placing soft kisses along your jawline. His plush lips move to your neck as he says it again, “I love you.”

Your body jolts into his, your orgasm rolling through you as Joel continues kissing your skin lovingly and saying he loves you over and over and over again. You fill his bedroom with your cries of ecstasy, pussy clenching around his hard cock. “I love you, too. Oh, God - don’t stop,” you pant out as you tremble in his arms, head falling to his shoulder quickly as pleasure courses through your body. You’ve never experienced an orgasm this intense before. You’ve never experienced him until now, and it was something you could do forever.

Joel takes over, thrusting up into you faster and faster as you feel his cock bottom out inside you. “I’m - fuck - I’m gonna come, baby.”

You smile into Joel's shoulder, in a complete state of blissed out intoxication. “Please,” you moan, “come inside me.”

Joel chants your name in a quiet whisper as his thrusts turn slow and sloppy, feeling his heavy body start to give out around you. You find the strength to look up at him, locking eyes with those beautiful deep brown eyes as you whisper sweet words to him. “I love you, Joel Miller.”

You feel him twitching inside you, followed by the warmth of him filling you up. Aftershocks of your orgasm jump through your body and you squirm on him as he fills you, moaning your name as he milks your insides.

Joel wastes no time lifting you and turning so he can rest his back against the wooden headboard. The springs of his mattress creak as you both settle, he’s still deep inside of you, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck. His strong hands rub up and down your naked back, relaxing you into his welcoming arms. Neither of you say anything as you catch your breath and the silence around you is screaming that you are safe here. You’re safe. Joel is safe.

“Are you okay?” you whisper when his breathing gets shallow.

“Yes, darlin’. Just relaxin’,” he says as he lets out a content hum, squeezing you tighter as his arms bring you closer into his broad chest. “I want to stay here forever, but I should probably get you cleaned up.”

You start to lift your hips off him and you swear you could come all over again just from that tingling feeling. You whimper quietly as he helps lift you. “I got ya, baby girl,” he says softly, rolling you onto the bed, “be right back.” He hikes his jeans back up and slips out of his bedroom to the bathroom.

Seconds later, he comes back with a small cloth. “Open your legs for me honey.”

His brown eyes and gentle touch are so soft as he cleans your thighs with the warm washcloth, dragging it gently over your sensitive pussy. You cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure as he repeats, “I got ya, baby,” before pulling you into his arms.

You press your face into his chest, soaking him all in and trying to memorize this euphoric feeling. You’ll have to be with Terrance soon, and if you can find a way to put yourself in this moment again then it won’t be so bad. You’ll just think of Joel.

You breathe him in, bathing in his mahogany and sawdust smell. “I love you, Joel.”

He smiles into your soft hair, kissing the top of your head and whispering, “I know, my Diamond. I love you, too. Rest here in my arms for a little bit, then we’ll go get that clay and some wine and go make pottery together.”

Your eyelids get heavy and you drift off into a peaceful and dreamless sleep in his arms, feeling like the luckiest woman in the world. There’s gotta be billions of people on this earth but somehow you get to exist in it and experience it with Joel Miller. You think that’s pretty special.

You both doze off longer than originally planned as you lay sprawled on top of him in his warm bed. The afternoon glowing sun fills his bedroom as the two of you stir awake. You rub your eyes sleepily, stretching your long naked body against his. Joel had been awake moments before you, looking down at how peaceful and beautiful you looked. That’s another thing for him to add to the list of things he wants to prove for you, peace. You don’t deserve to be shined up and sent out for those men. You should be able to put on his sweat pants and sit on the couch with your hair piled on top of your head. You’d still be the most beautiful woman alive to him like that. He’s so over the moon in love with you.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“Never be sorry, love. You needed rest,” he says as he lays on his back, one arm bent to rest his head on his large hand, the other arm closed tightly around you. “I think we’re gonna have to divide and conquer though.”

You crane your neck up at him, eyebrows knit in confusion. He slides his hand out from behind his head and uses the pad of his thumb to gently rub the crease between your eyebrows. “You go get the clay, I’ll get the wine and dinner. We can meet at your place.”

You laugh to yourself. Oh right, you had other plans together that didn’t involve handcuffs and a vibrator, followed by a really long nap. You nod up at him, excited to teach him how to make pottery, you’ve already decided that you’re going to make matching coffee mugs. That way on mornings when you can’t be together, you still will be together. You plan to paint ‘Come What May’ on the inside of both of them once he’s gone to surprise him. You know he’ll love it.

He helps you get dressed, giving you a peck on the cheek and a pat on the ass as you giggle and head out his door to the small craft store in town. Joel grabs some spare clothes, having a feeling that pottery is messy, and then rushes off to gather his side of the bargain. The town rushes around him but he’s almost in a haze, still somehow surrounded by his Sparkling Diamond.

After he gathers the food and wine, he sneaks into the back door of the Moulin Rouge and heads to your door, knocking gently on the wooden door. You open the door and smile up at Joel, pulling him inside and kissing him deeply as you free his hands from the bags.

When you pull apart, he takes in your clothes as he looks you up and down carefully. You’re wearing a cotton t-shirt style bra and a pair of jean overalls, one strap undone as it hangs down the back casually. The overalls are covered in splatters of dried pottery clay and colorful paint. Your hair is piled on top of your head, a few loose curls falling around your face and the nape of your neck. Quite simply put, you could be wearing a potato sack and you’d still take his breath away.

“Ready to get messy?” you ask with a teasing giggle.

“With you?” he teases as he places the groceries in your kitchenette, “always!”

You grab his hand and lead him to the pottery wheel. “Okay, so I guess I’ll show you mine and then you can make yours?”

He crosses his arms over his chest, biceps flexing as he watches you sit in front of the wheel. You have everything set up already, clay split in half, the water and sponges set aside. He nods and says, “Sure baby, what’re we makin’?”

“Coffee cups,” you smile, “this way we can be together every morning.”

A warm smile crosses his face, tanned skin around his eyes crinkling, “Ain’t you just so damn sweet, darlin’.”

You blush and then take a deep breath, starting the wheel and explaining to Joel what to do. He’s completely enamoured by you. The way you light up when you’re talking about something you're passionate about sets his heart on fire. Your bright eyes make his lips curl up into a warm smile as he takes in the sight of you doing something you genuinely love. He’d like to see more of that. More of that free spirit that pulls him to you.

Soon, your coffee cup is formed and when you smile at your cup he feels an intense sense of pride. Now it’s his turn but before you can get up he sits behind you, pressing his strong body against your back. He’s so warm and comforting when he’s this close. You absolutely love it.

His scruffy cheek lines up with yours, his warm breath tickling your skin as he reaches around you for his lump of clay and places it in the middle of the wheel. “Okay, baby doll. Walk me through this again.”

You blush and relax into him, explaining the steps carefully as you give him a step by step. He starts off well, shaping and molding the clay, but he’s too rough with it and the mug caves in on itself. “Son of a bitch,” he huffs as you giggle.

“You’re being too rough, be gentle.” You take over, reshaping the clay into a ball for him. As you move your hands back to your lap, his large hands cover yours.

“Show me,” he whispers, goosebumps traveling down your spine as you feel his hot breath breathe down your neck.

You swap to control his large hands with your small dainty ones. He starts to shape the mug, just like last time. “Good job, handsome. You’re almost done.”

When it comes time to create the hole again, it crumbles under his strong grip. “God dammit,” Joel huffs, he’s too distracted by you and your long exposed neck just right where he can reach it. So tempted to just kiss you and cover your body with the wet clay that’s caked on his hands.

You giggle again but try your hardest to encourage him. “You almost had it that time, baby. Come on, one more try.”

“You’re distractin’ me,” he says, kissing that soft spot right below your ear. You moan, lips parting and eyes closing at the feel of his warm lips.

You turn your head to look at him, placing a light and lingering kiss to his lips before saying, “Just one more time, please.”

The sun is starting to set, casting a pink glow across your room as the early night air rustles the curtains lightly. “Anything for you, my love.” Joel hums, kissing you back until you pull away and get his clay ready.

He takes a big breath and tries again, this time being extra gentle when forming the hole in the cup. You encourage him quietly the whole time, reminding him to be gentle and cradle it carefully. He knows you don’t mean for it to be teasing or sexual, but hearing you whisper things like, ‘just like that’, or ‘softer baby’, have his cock starting to strain against your back. He knows you can feel it, can sense the change in your breathing as he finishes his mug. It’s not as pretty as yours, but he sure as fuck is going to be drinking his morning coffee out of it everyday for the rest of his life.

You use your wire to get the cup off the wheel and put it beside yours. You both look at them side by side for a little bit, admiring the extra care you took to make them. Yours is showroom quality, people would pay to have that perfectly shaped mug, unlike Joel’s. But you love them, they’re un-perfectly perfect, just like the both of you.

Joel's chin rests on your shoulder as his lips hang just over your smooth jawline. “I love them,” you say with a small smile, admiring the dips and smooth edges of the cups.

He drags one clay covered finger in a heart shape along your arm and with his voice in a gravelly whisper says, “I love you.”

His lips trail from your ear to your shoulder blade before he licks a line across the nape of your neck, making a new trail of kisses to your ear on the other side. You feel your body start to go limp, ready for him to take control and do whatever he pleases. “As sexy as you look in these overalls, baby, stand up and take them off.”

You do as he says, standing up in front of him, back still towards him as you undo the one clip holding your jean overalls up. The metal clasp makes a scraping sound against the metal button before your overalls fall to the floor, pooling in a heap around your feet.

Joel lets out a deep moan at the sight of you in just a grey cotton thong and grey t-shirt bra. “Stay,” he says softly, clay covered hands coming to cover your body as he traces a line down your spine. You can’t see what he’s doing, but his fingers brush against the globes of your ass, then the backs of your thighs, then in random spots on your back. The cool clay left behind, hardening on your skin as he continues marking you with the clay.

“Spin around baby,” he finally says. He looks up at you from the stool, kissing just to the right of your navel, coating his fingers in more wet clay from the wheel. His hands come back to your body, drawing tiny little hearts all over your soft skin. He draws one around your belly button, then the front of one of your thighs, the top of your knee, one right above your actual heart, a few more up and down your arms. His face is soft as he focuses on each heart, each little bit of your body. He’s so taken aback by you, so madly head over heels in love with you that he knows he won’t survive seeing you with Terrance again. So he’s going to mark you, claim your body with clay so he knows you don’t belong to Terrance. Yes, it will wash off, but he was here first and he’s going to be here last. This is his. You are his.

His hands come to grip your hips as he stands, towering over you so you have to crane your neck to see him. His lips come down to yours slowly and softly. You tilt slightly to give him access, swiping your tongue against his bottom lip and moan quietly into his mouth. He returns your passion, kissing you deeply before lifting you up into his arms and walking you over to the side of your bed. He stops for a second, unsure if you want to get your sheets dirty, so he changes course and lowers you to the ground instead while your legs wrap around his waist. He breaks the kiss, moving himself to kiss every square inch of your skin that doesn’t have a clay heart on it. Claiming you again as your wiggle and jolt under his touch.

You moan his name when he hits the sensitive spots, like the tops of your breast or the dips in your hips. You keep your eyes locked on him the entire time, watching the passion in his eyes as he kisses your body nice and slow.

Fuck you love him. You love him so fucking much that it’s almost unbearable to think about him not being near you. How will you fake it with Terrance now?

His gentle kisses move to your legs as he works his way up your body, alternating between limbs before finally getting to your inner thighs. Each kiss is a delicious torture. “Please Joel, please,” you’re practically panting, almost begging for him to touch you.

He sits up and removes his pants and boxers, his cock looking almost painfully hard and you gasp at the sight of him, “I know, baby. I know”

He’s so turned on that it takes a moment for you to realize that it’s just from kissing you. Your body, your little moans, and your whimpers are the most erotic thing to him. “I love the sound of you begging, I’m right here. I got you,” he reassures you.

He situates himself between your legs, kissing the growing wet spot of your clothed center. Your body twitches at the warmth of his lips and you cry out again, desperately needing him so badly that it almost hurts.

“Alright, alright,” he hushes you, “do you need to come darlin’?”

You nod down at him, raising your hips towards his face, “P-please,” you whimper.

He pushes your panties to the side and licks his lips at the sight of your pussy weeping for him. You push your hips up again, desperate for friction from his warm tongue. Joel smiles up at you, “Always so eager for me, ain’t ya? Such a good girl.” And then he dives in, licking at your clit with quick, light flicks of his tongue. You feel yourself go boneless, melting into the soft rug below you, crying Joel’s name out and begging him not to stop.

His tongue slows, almost licking you lazily. The hurried passion evolves into a controlled worship. Your heart rate slows, breathing coming back to normal as you look down at him. His warm eyes pull you in, giving you comfort and security as they seem to melt into yours. This big strong man lapping at your pussy feels like home. He is home.

“Please, don’t stop,” you whisper, the love for him coating your ragged words.

“Never,” he says between licks, “I’ll do this forever if you let me.”

When Joel Miller makes a promise, he keeps it. He’s a man of his word.

Your head falls back to the floor as he continues to lick, kiss and suck you deep into his warm mouth. Your center on fire for him as he awakens your throbbing bundle of nerves. Your hands run along your body, playing with your breasts, pinching your nipples gently, fully immersing yourself in Joel. He doesn’t rush or try to force your pleasure, he just lets you enjoy it. He knows you’ll come when you’re ready, and fuck does he hope you’re never ready.

“Enjoyin’ yourself, my Diamond?”

“Y-yes,” you pant out. Your legs start to shake, the familiar tingle building in your core. He keeps teasing and tasting you over and over again until you’re right on the edge. “Oh God - yes - Joel.”

He smiles into your sensitive skin as he continues pleasuring you. “That’s my good girl,” he praises as he laps at the slick between your legs.

You’ve lost track of time, there’s a chance Joel has been at it for hours, but he moans and encourages you so you let yourself enjoy him. The tingling sensation grows stronger, spreading out to your whole body before it snaps and you're wrapped in pleasure. It waves through your whole body, you moan and cry out, Joel talking you through the whole thing as you start to break.

“I know, I know. That’s it baby, just relax.” His tongue swirls you gently as you come, careful not to push you into overstimulation. He’s so hard that it’s almost painful. “Good girl. Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you come.”

It starts to feel too intense and you’re suddenly desperate to feel him inside you. Your hands come to his hair, tugging him away lightly, your eyes matching his. “I need you, please. Fill me,” you whine.

You strip off your clothing slowly, taking every single piece off as you keep your eyes on him. You watch as his large body covers yours and lowers you gently to the ground as he crowds your space. He’s so beautiful in the purple sunset lighting of your room. His face and beard are shiny with your arousal but you don’t care, you press your lips to his, a deep and passionate kiss burning while he runs the tip of his cock through your folds, collecting your slick thoroughly.

“Please please please,” you whisper as his kisses move to your neck.

Finally he slides the tip in, you both gasp and then your lips meet again. Kissing one another with hunger as he slowly pushes himself the rest of the way in. Once he’s flush against you he pulls away from the kiss, both your lips puffy and swollen. His arms are resting on each side of your head, hands pushing your hair back as he smiles down at you, fully settled inside of your warm, tight heat.

“I love you, Joel Miller.” Your voice is practically dripping with admiration, each word seems to tattoo itself onto his heart.

He slowly pulls himself out to the tip as he slides back in as he groans you name, bringing his forehead to yours. “I love you, too, baby girl,” he smiles while he ruts deeper inside you.

For the next few thrusts you’re both silent - just panting breaths and little moans, foreheads together and eyes locked onto each other. He moves in and out of you as you circle your hips into his, the soft bit of his belly rubbing against your already sensitive clit.

“Oh God, baby,” you moan. You can feel tears building behind your eyes, pleasure starting to wrap around you again. “I’m - I’m gonna…”

“I know, fuck, I can feel ya. Gettin’ so tight around me, darlin’.” He doesn’t stop the slow push and pull of his hips. “Go on, baby. Come for me.”

Your whole body breaks out in shivers as you come all over him, your slick coating his cock as he works it deep inside you. He presses his body down onto yours more, helping ground you as your body writhes under his. You feel the hot tears escape your eyes as you moan his name loudly.

“There’s my girl, lettin’ go for me. I’m so proud of you.” His thrusts speed up a little as he chases his own release. As you start to come back to earth you feel him growing harder inside of you, his cock twitching as the aftershocks of your orgasm have your walls shuddering.

“Fill me, please,” you grind into him harder. “Want to feel you come inside of me again.”

Joel's hips snap into you one last time before his strong body quakes above you. He doesn’t hold back, moaning and whining out your name as he shoots ropes of warm come deep inside you - marking and claiming you all over again.

“Oh, fuck, darlin’. Feels so good,” he moans as he comes down from his own high and slowly slips out of you, dragging his seed down your thigh as he drops to the floor and pulls you into his chest tightly.

“That was incredible,” you pant as you let your hand drag down his soft stomach, collecting sweat on your fingertips as you look up into warm, loving eyes.

“You’re incredible, my little Diamond,” he smiles as he cups your chin and brings his plush lips down to yours. The kiss is slow, passionate, like you’re the only two people in the world right now. It’s so euphoric with him, everything so full of bright colors that you just can’t get enough of him. He’s the love of your life.

When he pulls away he taps you on the tip of your nose with his index finger and pulls you up off the ground. “C’mon, love. Let’s get you in the shower.”

He whisks you away into the lit up bathroom as he turns the faucet to hot, and the water comes pouring down. He lifts you up into the edge of the shower and steps over, grabbing a soft washcloth as he lathers it in lavender soap.

“Turn around, love. Gonna clean ya off,” he murmurs as you smile and turn toward the water, letting the warmth pour over you as sticky clay starts falling down the drain.

His large hands move languidly over your body, gently scrubbing off the clay as he starts at your collarbone and moves down the length of your arms. His lips graze your neck as he takes his time coating you in the sweet aroma of lavender, the smell of him is everywhere. Hanging in the steam filled air, lingering on your skin, filling your insides as you breathe him in nice and deep. He smells like coffee and a hint of mahogany as his experienced fingers cover your body.

You slowly turn and press your lips to his, sinking your body against his broad chest as he pulls you in and drowns you in all of him. You get lost in his everything as you let your fingers slot through his tousled curls, opening your mouth to invite him in. His tongue tastes like candy, and you devour the taste. Sweet, savory, euphoric.

You don’t know how long you’re in the shower as his hands thoroughly explore your body. You take your time washing him, too. Sliding your hands over every single crevice of his body, trailing kisses over his shoulders, down his spine, all the way to his long fingers. You’re in so deep with him, and this feels like heaven being with him. Every second you’re with him it’s a piece of heaven, he’s your heaven, your saving grace.

After the shower, he wraps you in a soft towel and dries you off and then slides his large grey t-shirt over your head. It smells like him and you want to keep it forever. He leads you to the bed and pulls you against his glowing chest as he wraps an arm around you and gently skims his fingers through your hair. Warm, he’s so warm.

“I had the best day with you, sweet girl,” he whispers as he places a kiss sweetly on your forehead. You nuzzle your face deeper into his neck and wrap your arms tightly around him.

“I did, too. Every day is like a dream with you. Promise it won’t change. Promise me this is forever,” you say quietly as you run your fingers slowly over his chest, praying this isn’t all just a dream.

He sighs and nods his head. “I promise. You’re my forever, darlin’. Never gonna let ya go. You’re mine. My special, rare Diamond.”

He wraps you tighter around him as you feel your eyes start to close, relishing in his scent, his body, his everything. “Joel?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you…” you breathe, sinking all your weight into his body as you kiss his scruffy jawline.

“Oh, baby. I love you more, my little Diamond. My forever…”

You smile and let your mind drift off to sleep as the room grows quiet and dark. You dream of brown eyes, your future, your forever. You dream of Joel.

The last thing you hear is Joel’s voice slipping through the darkness. “Goodnight, my precious Diamond.”

Tags: @casa-boiardi @keylimebeag @skysmiller @vvitchesh3x @littlevenicebitch69 @jessthebaker @strawberri-blonde @pansexual-potatoes

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel x female reader #joel the last of us #tlou fanfiction #joel tlou #joel miller pedro pascal #no outbreak!joel miller #joel miller tlou #soft!joel miller #moulin rouge au #joel miller series #joel x f!reader

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gloomysoup · 4 months

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when the world stops turning (my heart stops beating) - pt. 3

happy holidays to all who celebrate! as it stands, i'm posting this on christmas eve after a full evening with my dad's mom and his siblings and all my cousins, before i go to bed to deal with even more family all day tomorrow (we have my mom's side in the morning for brunch and then my dad's dad's house in the late afternoon/evening) BUT i did FINALLY get this part figured out and i couldn't wait to share it! i would apologize, but we all know i'm not actually sorry... oops

anyway i hope you all enjoy it!

ao3 pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4

cw: mentions and discussions of drug use, addiction, sobriety, relapse, referenced overdose, etc. y'know, the usual

The first time Steve ever got high, he was fourteen. Tommy had scored some weed off one of the older basketball guys, Steve’s parents were gone for a weekend. It was perfect. Steve, Tommy, and Carol laid back on the roof of Steve’s childhood home, overlooking the blue glow of the pool and the line of trees beyond the yard, passing a joint back and forth. It was a warm buzz, making his head go all fuzzy. It was nice. Until it wasn't, at least. He liked the feeling of being high. What he didn't like was what came after.

The comedown from that first high was rough, to say the least. Carol was fine; Steve didn't know why it didn't affect her as badly. Steve and Tommy, however, were not so lucky.

It was a while before he ever smoked weed again. He never did anything more than that, though there were plenty of opportunities. And he never smoked alone. It was always parties, or hang outs with Tommy and Carol. It slowed down when he met Nancy. She wasn't a fan of drugs, and always asked him to stop. He never could, but he definitely cut back. Then Nancy shattered his heart, so he picked it back up again. Started smoking on his own. Anything to chase the free feeling of the high. He spent so many nights trying to escape his nightmares and heavy thoughts. He smoked until his head was floating in the clouds. He kept the high until he ultimately passed out, hard, into a fairly dreamless sleep.

And then Starcourt happened.

That was a different high. Slower. It was loose lips, but firm thought. Tethered, but not quite there. It took longer to hit the peak, to really float. When he finally hit it, it was the best he'd felt in a long time. And then he came crashing down. It was the worst he'd felt in his life, aside from the time Billy bashed his head in with a plate. It sucked. It ruined weed for him, if he was honest. Every time he tried after that, his body panicked. His brain would get fuzzy, he'd start to float, and then he'd seize up. His brain would shock him back into reality. He vowed, with the help of Robin, to never get high again. He would finally quit. It wasn't worth the panic attacks and anxiety and trauma response that came with it anymore. He was successful for a while, at least. He'd been sober for almost a year.

That didn't last long after the final battle with Vecna. He and Eddie were friends. They were starting to grow into a little more than that. Steve’s nightmares were awful again. His body was sore and his scars stretched uncomfortably every time he moved. It was Eddie who initially suggested weed, even though he had stopped smoking himself.

“It's actually a pretty good method for pain management,” he said with a shrug. “You just gotta be careful about it. Stick to the natural stuff.”

Eddie didn't know that Steve was sober. Steve never told him. He'd been itching for a good high again anyway; something to clear his head, take some of the pain away, get a good night’s sleep for once. Eddie had handed him an extra joint, leftover from his own stash that he hadn't touched in weeks. Steve went home that night and lit a joint for the first time in almost a year. His sobriety went down the drain, just like that. The worst part? He didn’t even regret it. Not one bit.

He didn't tell Robin. He couldn't. He knew she'd be disappointed in him. She would go back to watching him like a hawk, following him around, and never leaving him alone long enough to even think about getting high. She'd spend every night with him, just like she did those first few months before. He couldn't let her do that to herself again. Not when she was doing so well with Vickie. He wasn't going to ruin her good thing with his own problems. So Robin never knew he relapsed. And Eddie never knew that he was supposed to be sober. He never told a soul.

Steve carried it with him for years. Every time he lit a joint instead of a cigarette, he thought about Robin. Two puffs in, he wasn’t thinking about her anymore, just how nice it felt. He smoked until his head was empty and floating, and then he smoked some more. He smoked by himself a lot. Then the band got recognized, and they were all smoking again too. Steve would smoke with them any chance he got. He never told anyone the secrets he was hiding. He never told anyone the weed wasn’t quite enough anymore. He was perfectly content with what he had, sure, but some deep part of him itched for more. He got cross-faded more times than he could count, just to feel something more.

His first experience with harder drugs was at a party with the band. Their manager had gotten them an invite for promotional purposes. There were supposed to be some high-end producers and such they wanted to network with, and Steve always went with them to these sorts of things. It was innocent, at first. Steve stepped out on the back deck of whatever big shot artist’s house they were at to light a cigarette while Eddie talked music with some people in the living room.

He took a deep inhale, feeling the nicotine saturate his lungs before he blew out the smoke. What he really wanted was some weed, but Eddie had it all on him and Steve didn't want to bother them. This was good for the band. They needed this. Still, a cigarette couldn't only do so much for the itch under Steve’s skin. He had a beer on the railing in front of him, but that's not what he needed. He took another inhale, holding it, hoping it would keep him satisfied until Eddie brought him a joint. It wasn't really working, but Steve was trying to convince himself otherwise.

“Mind if I join you?”

Steve turned to see a slightly older man standing in the doorway. He vaguely recognized him as another musician, but couldn't place his name. “No, not at all. Honestly, I could probably use the company.”

The man nodded and stepped onto the deck, closing the sliding glass door behind him. He took up a place beside Steve, holding out his hand. “Billy.”

Steve laughed at the irony and took his hand. “Of course you are. I'm Steve.”

Billy gave him a curious look. “Something wrong with my name, Steve?”

He shook his head. “No, not at all. It's just a little funny, I guess. I knew a guy named Billy once. Broke a plate over my head, gave me a nasty concussion, and then he died a few months later in a fire at the mall I used to work at. The universe likes to have a good laugh, apparently.”

“Ah, yeah, I'd probably feel the same way then.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a joint, gesturing toward Steve. “Mind if I light?”

“Only if you share,” Steve replied with a laugh before taking another drag of his cigarette.

“Of course, man.” Steve watched Billy pull a lighter from his pocket and light the joint, taking a puff before holding it out toward Steve.

Steve stubbed out his cigarette on the wood railing before taking the joint between his fingers. He took a deep drag, holding it for one, two, three seconds, and then breathing it out slowly. He looked up at the stars as he passed it back. “God, that's exactly what I needed.”

“Tough day?”

Steve shrugged. “More like a tough life. I'd usually be smoking by now anyway, but my, uh, friend has all the weed on him. He's busy talkin’ shop with some other music guys in there, and I didn't wanna bother them. It's important to him.”

“Not your scene then, I take it?”

Steve huffed, taking the joint back between his fingers. “I'm more… emotional support for his band, I guess. Though, I'm not sure they ever needed it. They do just fine on their own.”

“I'm sure they appreciate it anyway.” Billy glanced back at the house as he took the last drag before putting it out. “What do you say we go back in, Steve? I know a guy upstairs with something a little better than weed, if you're interested.”

“Hell, at this point, I might try just about anything. I don't do needles, though. Bad experiences and all.”

Billy laughed and motioned with his head. “Promise, no needles unless you ask.”

“Lead the way, then.”

Steve was floating on the best high of his life. He didn't know how much time had passed, but he didn't really care. He hung out upstairs with Billy and some other industry people for God only knows how long, smoking and laughing and snorting lines of cocaine. Eventually, Steve stumbled his way back downstairs with Billy, laughing the whole way. He bumped into Eddie, physically running into his back where he was scanning the house.

Eddie turned and wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist, holding him up. “There you are. I was wondering where you went.”

“Eddie!” Steve exclaimed, grinning brightly. He turned to Billy, who had his arm around Steve’s shoulders. “Billy, Billy, this is him. This is Eddie.”

“Oh, yeah! So you're Eddie! You've- you've got a good one, man. Steve's such a riot.”

Eddie seemed taken aback at first, looking between the two of them. His eyebrows furrowed as he took in Steve’s slightly disheveled appearance and wide eyes. “Steve, are you high right now?”

Steve giggled, leaning his face into Eddie’s neck. “Soooo high, baby. I feel great.”

“Alright, I think it's time we go home,” Eddie declared. “Come on, let's go find the guys.”

“But I don't wanna leave,” Steve whined with a pout. “I wanna dance, Eddie. Can't we dance? Please?”

“We can dance at home, Steve. Come on. It's time to go.”

“No fun,” he huffed.

“Steve, look, here, I’ll give you my number,” Billy said, still leaning heavily against him. “You call me. We’ll hang out again sometime, yeah?”

“Definitely. Definitely do that.”

It took Eddie fifteen minutes to drag Steve through the house and track down the rest of his friends. When they found the rest of them, Jeff frowned at Steve.

“What's up with him? Is he okay?”

“Apparently the whole time we were talking to that producer, my boyfriend was getting high off his ass with Billy Corgan. I'm sure he’ll be fine once he sleeps it off.”

“Wait, Billy Corgan?” Gareth asked, eyes wide. “Like the Billy Corgan of The Smashing Pumpkins?”

“Apparently they're best friends now.”

“Oh, yeah, Billy’s great,” Steve said through another bout of giggles, leaning all his body weight on Eddie. He cupped his hand around his mouth to whisper, but it wasn't really a whisper. “He knows who has all the good shit, guys.”

“Okay, he is really high,” Grant said. “Guess that's our cue to leave?”

“I don't care if you guys want to stay, but I'm taking Steve home. Just didn't wanna leave without letting you know.”

When Steve and Eddie finally got back to the apartment, Steve sloppily kissed Eddie in the entryway. His hand slipped under Eddie’s shirt, but Eddie pulled him back.

“Baby, no, not tonight,” he murmured. He pushed a lock of hair from Steve’s face. “You're too high for that right now. You need sleep.”

“Want you, though,” Steve whispered, ducking down to suck at his jaw and throat.

“Steve, no. I'm serious. You need to sleep this off.”

Steve huffed, a pout on his full lips. Eddie kissed him softly before wrapping his arm around his waist and leading him to the bedroom. Steve slumped back against the bed immediately upon impact. Eddie carefully and gently undressed him before tucking him into bed. He brought a water bottle and some meds for the morning, placed them on the bedside table, and then changed his own clothes. Steve was out like a light, snoring softly. Eddie held him all night, unable to sleep. He'd never seen Steve get that high before. Part of him worried it was more than weed, but he trusted Steve. He'd ask him in the morning, but he wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. He didn't think Steve would do more than that. He didn't think he had to worry.

The next morning, Eddie made sure Steve was safe and okay before bringing it up.

“So, last night,” he said over breakfast, poking around at the scrambled eggs he'd whipped up for them.

“Oh, right! How'd it go with that, what was he, a producer?”

“It was fine, but that's not what I'm talking about, Steve.”

Steve frowned. “What is it then?”

Eddie swallowed, not looking at Steve. “You were really high when I finally found you after you wandered off. I need you to be honest, Steve. What did you take?”

“It was weed, Ed. Strong weed, but just weed.”

“You promise?” He looked up, meeting Steve’s eyes. “You promise it's just weed, Steve? I can’t- You have to understand how dangerous that other shit is. I can't lose you to it.”

Steve smiled so easily, like he wasn't lying right to Eddie’s face. Like he didn't have a baggie of coke in the pocket of his jeans, which were laying on the bedroom floor. “I promise that's all it is.”

And Eddie believed him, like an idiot. He trusted him, because it was so easy to fall for those eyes and that smile. He didn't think Steve would ever do anything like that. He had no reason to believe otherwise. He didn't know that Steve had been sober for almost a year before that spring break from Hell.

Steve lied for years, to everyone. He was good at it. It was easy. He didn't even think twice before the lies tumbled past his lips. The problem was how simple it was to score. How easy. He never had to turn far. He was listed as a personal assistant to the band. He was handing drugs to pass on to them all the time, but Corroded Coffin didn't do any of that stuff. They always turned it down. They knew what it did to people, especially in the industry. It was a dangerous thing. Every time the members ignored the drugs being passed to them, Steve slipped them in his pocket instead. No one ever noticed. The more fame and recognition the band got, the easier it became for Steve to score whatever he wanted. Pills, tabs, cocaine, heroin, the works. He never strayed far from coke and pills, still wary of needles from the Russians, but it was a high he couldn't get with weed alone. It was addicting. He wouldn't have been able to stop on his own even if he wanted to.

He snuck off to do a line or two every chance he got. If the band’s backs were turned for even a few seconds, he was popping a couple of colorful pills. He smoked weed every other night, whenever Eddie wanted to smoke. He smoked on his own occasionally, slowing down his body through the rush of a good high. It was nothing like he’d ever experienced before, and he couldn't get enough of it.

Then he was at the biggest show of Eddie’s career. Sold out at Madison Square Garden. Roaring crowds, electricity flowing through Steve’s veins. He was only going to do a quick line. He just wanted to keep the energy, soothe the itch. One line turned to two, then three, then some pills. Then everything went dark.

The first thought to cross his mind as his vision tunneled and his body began to shut down was that he should have told them the truth. He never should have lied to Eddie, or Robin. He never should have taken that joint from Eddie all those years ago. He should still be sober. But he wasn't, and now he was going to die, and it's his own fault. He fell to his vices. He didn't talk to Robin, like he always promised he would do if the urges came back. Instead, he got into the harder stuff, and now it was going to kill him. The clock had finally run out. The Reaper was knocking on his door.

That would be the end of Steve Harrington.

-----

tag list: @mugloversonly @djohawke @acowardinmordor @hallucinatedjosten @geekyfifi @slowandsteddie @estrellami-1 @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @canmargesimpson

(if you saw this upload twice no you didn't. i definitely didn't forget the tag list)

#gloomysoup #gloomysoup ao3 #gloomysoup writes #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #stranger things fic #steve harrington angst #steddie au #steddie angst #steddie fanfiction #tw drugs #tw addiction #tw overdose

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silent-sanctum · 17 days

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AHH i love your work!! ignore this if you don’t wanna write this but could i request a part 4 jotaro with a surgeon reader? like how they work around eachothers work schedule?

thqnk you!! have a good day/night!! <3

AHH thank you anon! 🥹💖 Lucky for you your request wasn't ignored because I have a cute lil short fic for you! Have a good day to you as well and hope you enjoy! ♡

Professional Love - Jotaro x Reader

word count: 1.8k

He always sort of knew that even if someone was able to succeed greatly in life, earn loads, and establish a famous reputation, there were always downsides to the many rewards hard work offered.

Such as not having enough time to spend with loved ones.

Ironically enough, as someone who likes the solitude of their alone times, Jotaro began to miss being around you. Whether it was because of him hitting adulthood that nostalgia decided to kick in, or some instinctual necessity ingrained deep in him, he’d do anything within plausibility just to talk to you like the old days.

Both you and he were married to each other and were successful doctors in their own fields- You as a literal licensed physician and skilled neurosurgeon, and Jotaro a well-known marine biologist and professor of an Ivy League university with a doctorate.

It was established early on from high school that the two of you had no problems being their own persons. Both of you were independent and had the tendency to keep themselves occupied with work, but never drowning in them too much that it stifled any romantic chemistry between you.

Well… at least that’s the case when they were still teenagers.

Now that they were professionals, work was always mandatory and couldn’t be excused like how a high school student would to homework. Both careers demanded their focus.

On average, you were off either doing rounds or surgery during the day sometimes even at night, while he had the morning and afternoon booked doing field study or teaching college students. At times, there were also the meetings held in other cities or countries that you had to attend to.

By some miracle despite with their hectic schedules, you still held onto the love you had for your husband even if you weren’t around him most of the time. In the hours Jotaro was able to sync up with yours, both of you swore to cherish that short amount of time.

A carefree conversation unrelated to work. Shared time for drinks and snacks. Napping in each others arms.

Anything. He just wanted to see you, hear you, feel you just so he’d have that one moment of intimacy where he’s able to relax and be Jotaro Kujo and not that rigid and stoic Head of Research image he’d put on in public.

This shouldn’t be a big deal for him.

And yet-

As he unlocked the front door to their home, Jotaro sighed as he shrugged off his coat and left it to hang on the nearby rack. He flicked the light switch on and the interior lit up to reveal an empty living room, devoid of anyone living here for hours. No sounds of dishes and utensils, no TV airing a favored show, not even the faintest steps of somebody roaming about.

Jotaro ignored this newfound feeling he’d recognize as “loneliness” and went about the rest of the night.

You were out of country to meet with a group of surgeons in Germany, discussing matters that were too technical and specific to the medical field that he couldn’t understand. You told him that the meeting would take at least a week to finish. Jotaro was in the 4th day and he’d begun to feel… pathetic? Was that the right word?

Getting glimpses of you or engaging with you for a minute to get through the busy day was one thing. Being left alone without receiving at least a single update was another.

He did what always does after a day’s work- Take a shower, prepare dinner, grade papers or review documents, and go to bed. But in the middle of his evening routine, his mind couldn’t help but wander off how tonight would’ve played out if you were here.

Would you greet him late in the dark and chat about your day about someone’s lobotomy? Would you help out in the kitchen and add in another meal for the both of them? Would you lie in bed with him and just sleep to their hearts’ content, hoping an emergency call wouldn't disrupt your slumber at dawn?

Jotaro shook his head and took a sip of his tea. “What are you thinking? You’re acting as if this trip lasts a year.” He scoffed at no one as he took his now empty plate and set it down in the sink for him to clean. “Honestly, why are you like this nowadays?”

As an answer to that, a younger version of himself would’ve denied it with lies and brush it off like as if it’s an intrusive thought, because being anything remotely sentimental would ruin his whole image. 28-year-old Jotaro knew better that the answer was simple- he just missed you. Even if it was just meeting one another at home before leaving for work again.

He sighed for the nth time and walked into his office, where stacks of folders and papers waited for him to go-over and process.

Nothing extraordinary happened the following hours. Just one man with his glasses and pen buried in piles of documents as usual. To spare him the monotony of his evening plus the strain in his eyes from overworking, on his table were 2 picture frames situated just beneath the monitor where he could drift his gaze to from time to time.

One was of him as a child with his mother carrying him with a big loving smile. The other was of the both of you taken during your wedding day- you in your pure white dress, your veil pulled back to show your blooming smile, and him in a crisp black tuxedo with a chrysanthemum brooch pinned to his left chest, a smile of his own clear on his face.

By the time Jotaro finished the last of the load, the only thing left for him to do was to sleep and let the next day arrive.

So he did just that- switched off the lights in his study, went to his room, and got into bed. A king-sized bed that’s supposed to be shared with you. His side of the bed was on the left where the bedside table was with the small lamp on top. Convenient for when he still needed to read a few more books before sleeping.

But in the darkness, he turned over to the empty side beside him. Your side.

Sure you sometimes came home late into the early morning and he had to sleep all by himself, but Jotaro liked waking up to find you next to him, snuggling close to him, tired from all those hours of surgery.

It’s the 4th night without you and he continued to sleep regardless.

Come next morning and the first thing he was able to perceive was the smell of bacon, eggs, and coffee in the air and the faint sizzling that came with it. Jotaro didn’t know how he wasn’t able to notice but maybe through his sleep-addled mind, he woke up as he would and trudged his way down the stairs to make breakfast.

Only by the time he stepped one foot down, he was met with a dining table already set with the morning meal and 2 cups of steaming coffee.

“What… is this?”

“Oh yeobo! You’re up!”

Jotaro paused upon hearing that voice coming in from the kitchen. Wait that couldn’t be right. You said the meeting lasted a week and it’s only the 5th day. How was this- He scoffed again, at himself for letting himself think too much of you that he started to hear hallucinations of your voice as early as 7 AM.

He ran his hand through his curly bed hair. “This can’t be happening. I can’t believe this is happening to me of all people.”

“Can’t believe what is happening of all people?”

A pair of arms wrapped themselves around Jotaro’s waist and he stilled. Is it really? He looked over his shoulder and in the warmly lit daylight, you were there behind him, smiling up at him with so much love in the world. Jotaro couldn’t believe it. “Good morning, love~”

“I thought you were supposed to be out for a week?”

“Oh about that,” you said. “The meeting didn’t take too long to finish as they had hoped. All we needed were 3 days and got everything settled.”

You pulled away and lead him to his spot by the head of the table with you sitting adjacent to him. “They suggested I take a look around the place for the meantime, you know enjoy the scenery and whatnot. But then I thought to myself,” you looked away momentarily. “I have a couple days free. Everyone in the hospitals I work at, know I’m booked during those weeks. So, unless it's really urgent, I'll just be here.”

“And I… missed being around my husband these couple days,” you said. “And I know you might be thinking I’m making a big deal of this whole “missing each other” schpill, but at the same time, it’s visceral and nagging to the point it’s bothering me even during work.”

“You’re not making anything a big deal when the feeling is mutual,” Jotaro replied without looking at you, feigning nonchalance. Though his cheeks heated and eyes squinting just a bit at the casual confession. That’s to say he’s still not used to being this open to expression. “It’s driving me nuts too.”

You chuckled. “I’m glad I’m not the only going crazy, but Jotaro-ssi?” He paused just as he was about to bite down onto a piece of bacon and you waved at him to you. “I have something to tell you.”

With no hesitation, Jotaro leaned over to you until he was inches away from your face. And in that moment, you cupped his cheek and pressed a soft kiss on his lips.

His heart skipped a beat or two and the warmth present in his cheeks flared up once more. You were always the teasing type that he got accustomed to.

You withdrew shortly after with a mischievous smirk on your face. “I missed doing these surprise kisses.”

He huffed. “Never failed to catch me off guard.”

“And since I’m free for the next 3 days, how about we do some stuff together?” You said. “Unless you still have work to accomplish-”

“My students are on their field trip this week with another professor and I’ve already made the necessary changes to the research team’s proposals so they can work on it.” Jotaro smiled. “Safe to say I’m free this week as well.”

Knowing that caused you to bloom on the spot- eyes beaming with joy and a blossoming grin showing itself for him to adore. “I can’t wait. Movie night?”

“Sure.”

“Genre? Snacks? Say the word so I can prepare. I want to make our first mini vacation perfect and-” He cut you off with a chaste kiss on your temple.

“Anything will do jagi.”

#jotaro x reader #jojos bizarre adventure #jjba #jotaro kujo

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rorywritesjunk · 4 months

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I can’t tell where the journey will end But I know where to start

Prequel to my Kid Buggy fic, set about 11-ish years before that story.

Buggy meets you by chance when he needs his buttons sewn back onto his jacket. He’s young, up and coming, and he thinks everyone should cower before him wherever he goes, but all you do is smile at him.

Rating: PG-13ish just for some swearing. Warning: Buggy’s in his early 20s. He’s an asshole. He just is because I wanted to write him loud, demanding, everything. Also, I'm not nice to Buggy when he tries to flirt. I definitely write him as a bit of a disaster when it happens. It's just going to get a bit worse from here. There's a storm mentioned in this chapter and a love confession. A/N: I have no idea when Buggy became a Captain, so he’s a fresh faced captain in this. No clue how long this fic will be. A shoutout to @lavalampskyy for telling me about the song "Warm" by Montcrieff because that song definitely influenced me to actually write this chapter and rework some things, so thank you friend! I've listened to it way too much in the last 24 hours.

Title comes from “Wake Me Up” by Avicii.

TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @ane5e @kingofthemfingpirates @the-angriest-angel @tiredemomama @valen-yamyam16 @i-reblog-fics-i-like @plethora-of-fickleness @uhnanix Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 + Chapter 16 + Chapter 17 + Chapter 18 + Epilogue

Chapter 9

Buggy realized he was truly in love with you when you hugged him that day but he didn’t say anything, not yet. He wanted it to be perfect when he told you. He wasn’t quite ready to propose marriage yet either, and the two of you only had one date, sort of, which ended in him embarrassing himself, but the fact that you brushed off the spill and took care of him made him realize that he wanted that all the time with you. There was no one else for him after that.

He just needed the right time to tell you.

The best time, he decided, was when he brought his coat to you once again one afternoon, a few weeks after the hug. Benji was at the counter, looking unimpressed when he saw Buggy. He looked the pirate up and down before rolling his eyes.

“What do you want now?” The teen asked, sounding bored.

“Benji.” You warned as you came from the backroom. You were trying to get him to be a little nicer to the clients. Your eyes lit up when you saw Buggy and you smiled; he straightened up and held his coat out.

“Sorry.” Benji grumbled. “How can I help you today, sir?”

“Better.” You took the coat from Buggy. “Mm, what’s wrong with it now, Buggy?”

“None of the threads holding the buttons match.” He told you as you hung it up. Benji made a face and went to look it over with you. The thread looked fine to him and he nudged you gently.

“I think he’s losing his eyesight.” He whispered as he glanced back at Buggy. “They look fine to me.”

You shook your head and chuckled. “No, no, he’s right. The shades are just different enough that it can be noticeable.” You turned back to Buggy. “Can I keep it for a few hours to work on it?”

“Only if I can take you out to dinner afterwards.” He said with a grin. You looked a little surprised by that but you smiled and nodded.

“After you pay for the services, of course.”

“I-I was going to pay!” He exclaimed, looking flustered now. “Why wouldn’t I pay?!”

“I’m teasing, of course you’ll pay.” You chuckled as you smoothed the front of the coat out. “I’ll have it ready for our date then.”

Ha! You called it a date. That was perfect. Buggy couldn’t help but feel smug as he winked at you and turned to leave the shop. He shut the door behind him, hoping you didn’t notice several of his fingers got caught in the door jamb and popped off, falling to the floor. He hastily opened the door and collected them before shutting it again. You and Benji watched the whole thing; Benji seemed a little horrified but you just shook your head.

“You’re going out with him?” Benji asked, sounding disgusted. “Why?!”

“I like him.” You told him as you went to go find some thread and a needle. “And he’s very sweet to me.”

“Lots of guys are sweet to you.” Benji pointed out as he returned to the counter. “I don’t get why you like it coming from him though.”

“He’s not like the others.” You shrugged as you set your tools down on the table and collected his jacket. “Now, I’m going to have you help with this, so you have to do it correctly, understand? You can’t mess it up on purpose because you don’t like Buggy.”

“Fine.” He grumbled as he went to help you.

Buggy arrived three hours later. He made sure to look his best. His face was clean, his hair was brushed, and he wore some of his best clothes to take you out. He had a bouquet of flowers for you and a basket in one hand. He felt a picnic dinner at the lake would be a good spot. He wouldn’t be an asshole this time, you could see the ducks, and he could tell you that he was in love with you and everything would be perfect.

He entered the shop and saw Benji and Miss Pins first. They looked up at him; Benji rolled his eyes but Miss Pins looked quite amused to see him.

“So, another date?” She asked. Buggy glared at her as his face reddened.

“What if it is?” He shot back as he set the basket down.

Miss Pins shrugged, a smirk on her face as looked him up and down. “And dressed up for it as well. You really like our Sunny, don’t you?”

“Listen, you-”

He didn’t get to finish the sentence because you came down the stairs at that moment, catching his attention. He turned to look and his eyes widened. You had a new dress on, one he hadn’t seen before, a pretty light green color with cap sleeves. It fell at mid-calf, the skirt had a nice swoosh to it, and the neckline didn’t dip down too far. There was embroidery around the hem of the skirt, colorful flowers with twisty stems and leaves. Did you make this yourself?

“Your coat is ready.” You told him as you went right past him to grab it from the back. He was just staring at you, speechless for a moment as his brain registered that you dressed nice for him. Benji waved his hand in front of Buggy’s face to get his attention while Miss Pins snapped her fingers. You came back out with it and took it off the hanger, holding it out for him. He let you put it on him, face burning bright red as you smoothed it over his shoulders. He turned around to face you and you tugged on one of the buttons. “All matching threads for you, Buggy.”

He said nothing as he slammed the payment onto the counter and then held the bouquet out to you. Words were escaping him right then because he didn’t know what to say to you. You took the bouquet from him and kissed his cheek before taking them to the backroom to find them a vase.

“Why isn’t he saying anything?” Benji whispered to Miss Pins. She shrugged.

“No clue.”

“S-Shut it, you two!” Buggy managed to hiss as he glared at them. “I’m fine!”

“Are you though?” Benji grinned. Before Buggy could respond you came back out, setting the vase on the table. He picked the basket up and held his hand out to you, which you took before he led you out of the shop and down the road.

Buggy didn’t want to jinx it because so far everything was going perfectly. He had put a blanket down, pulled the food out (something he got from the little cafe you had your first date at), and he even had a bag of seed for you to throw to the ducks. He still didn’t quite get the enjoyment in that, but if it meant seeing how your eyes lit up and the little squeals of joy you emitted every time one quacked at you, then he would make sure to always bring you a giant bag of seeds for the ducks.

It was perfect until clouds started to roll in. Buggy tried to ignore them, hoping they would just move along to somewhere else so the two of you could keep enjoying the nice weather.

He cleared his throat and took your hand in his. “I… have something to say.”

“Okay.” You turned to look at him, giving his hand a squeeze. “What is it?”

There was a rumbling of thunder in the distance. No, no, it needed to wait until he could tell you.

“Sunny, I’m in lo-”

The clouds opened up and the rain came down, catching the two of you by surprise. You gathered everything into the basket before grabbing his hand and dragging him over to a nearby structure to get out of the wet. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden downpour but Buggy didn’t find it funny.

“Why is it every time I try…” He grumbled as he crossed his arms, glaring outwards. You didn’t hear him as you walked over to him, tapping him on the shoulder. He turned to look at you, still glaring, but you weren’t bothered by it.

“What were you about to say to me before the downpour?” You asked.

He hesitated. If he said anything else something could happen, like a flash flood or the structure collapsing. And if he said it, how would you react to it? He was in love with you but what if you weren’t in love with him? What if you just laughed at him, patted him on the cheek and sent him on his way? He was starting to wonder if you were just tolerating him at this point.

“I didn’t…” He hesitated, maybe this was a bad idea.

You frowned as you pulled him into a hug. He allowed this, letting his head rest on your shoulder as you pressed a kiss to his temple. This is what he wanted. He just wanted to be in your arms forever and if he wanted that he needed to tell you how he felt before someone else came along and you decided they were better for you.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment before Buggy finally spoke.

“I’m in love with you.” He mumbled against your shoulder. You didn’t quite catch that and pulled back from him.

“Can you repeat that?” You asked kindly. “I didn’t understand.”

He lifted his head off your shoulder and quickly said, “Iminlovewithyou.”

“I… didn’t understand that, Buggy.” You told him, smiling as you shook your head. “Can you say it again?”

He hated that he was hesitant. This was supposed to be some grand proclamation he was about to make, but given his track record of trying to do anything for you, he was convinced something horrible was about to happen. Lightning could strike him before he could speak, or that stupid handsome swordsman would appear and take you away, or what if the ducks suddenly attacked him?

You touched his cheek, snapping him back to his senses. “Buggy?”

It had to be now or never, ducks be damned.

He took both of your hands in his and took a deep breath. “I’m in love with you.”

There, he said it.

Lightning didn’t strike either of you. No one else showed up to take you away from him. And he glanced over your shoulder to see the ducks still in the lake, not charging toward him in an angry horde. You, however, were quiet. That was starting to worry him, but he had to deal with this. You probably didn’t feel the same way. It was stupid of him to even think you would. He let go of your hands, trying to think of a joke to get him out of this now because why would you ever want someone like him? He just needed to tell you he was kidding, that it wasn’t true, just wanted to see what you’d do, but before he could do anything, you grabbed the front of his coat and pulled him close, leaning up to kiss him.

He stiffened, not expecting that reaction. He expected you to push him away, telling him to stop making jokes, that you didn’t feel the same way. Those scenarios played through in his head as you kissed him, not letting him leave yet. Were you waiting to tell him to leave you alone, that you didn’t want to see him ever again after this?

When you finally pulled back from the kiss, you still held onto the front of his coat, not letting him bolt. Your cheeks were pink, you were smiling up at him, and he didn’t know what to make of the twinkle in your eye. He was just waiting for the inevitable.

“I like you a lot, Buggy.” You told him. “And I’m starting to fall in love with you.” There was a crack of thunder nearby and you laughed. “Let’s go back to the shop before we get washed away. I’ll make you a hot drink.”

He nodded fast, head almost dislodging from his body at the speed of the movement. You were starting to fall in love, that meant you were going to eventually. That was better than what he was anticipating happening.

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