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#actually i do and you have to follow them
ms-demeanor · 1 day
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You posted about adhd and I was hoping to follow up to clarify something. I’ve explained to my partner a million times about how the borderline-hoarding mess of his space is very mentally draining to me, and he understands but we’ve both essentially accepted he won’t clean his mess because he can’t because of his adhd. You’re saying he’s actually being a shit head?
This isn't necessarily an issue of him being a shithead, but it also isn't a sustainable situation. It's not good for you and there's a level of clutter that's probably not good for him either.
Large bastard is a lot more clutter-y than I am. The solution we've come to is trying to keep our messes at least isolated from one another; he can have his messes and I can have mine, but he can have those messes in his spaces, not all over the place. Sometimes those messes migrate, and that's when it's important for him to make the effort to rein them in rather than trying and failing to make a daily effort to keep our entire shared space tidy.
I think when you say "we've both essentially accepted he won't clean his mess" what I'm hearing is resignation; you're not happy about this but you don't know what to do so you've thrown up your hands and he feels helpless and unsure of what to do to improve the situation. This is the kind of "it's fine" that isn't really fine.
I think it would be worthwhile for you to each separately think about the mess and talk about it together. Are there areas that YOU *need* to have not-messy? Both for utility and your mental health? Are there areas where you can tolerate more mess than otherwise? Are there areas that are going to be harder for him to keep the mess out of than others? Are there things he doesn't *know* about cleaning up the mess?
I'm obviously a big "communication communication communication" person so I'm going to recommend a lot of talking about stuff, which is probably going to mean a lot of thinking about and interrogating stuff. I'm going to say "talk to him about why the mess bothers you" which means you also have to really articulate to yourself why the mess bothers you (for instance I'm not actually *bothered* by a messy kitchen, but I know it's going to reflect badly on us - and me specifically b/c of presumed gender roles - if someone pops by and the kitchen is a disaster, AND a messy kitchen is going to be harder to use). Genuinely, sometimes knowing *why* something is a problem might make it easier for someone with ADHD to do something. And it's not that he doesn't care that it upsets you, it's just that "Oh if I don't wash my breakfast dishes Anon won't have clear counterspace to make lunch" might be stickier in his brain (and less hard to look at emotionally) than "this thing I forget to do upsets my partner so I should do it."
For the record, I think that people with ADHD should read up on Demand Avoidance and see if it might explain some of the issues that they have in their day-to-day life; I've seen some really unfortunate situations with friends where trying to do things that their partner needed became the subject of demand avoidance. *I* have experienced negative outcomes of demand avoidance. The solution to that, however, isn't to stop making attempts to do the thing OR to simply try harder to do as they're asked/told (which reinforces the demand), it's to work on setting up a situation where the partners' needs are not interpreted as a demand. This is fuck-off difficult and requires a lot of patience and care and many attempts to succeed and will be different for each person and relationship.
(Also for the record demand avoidance isn't *super* strongly linked to ADHD and it's not a definitive symptom; like Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, it is something that occurs in some number of people with ADHD and can be a useful lens through which to examine various behaviors; you don't need to have DA or RSD to have ADHD, and having DA or RSD also doesn't invalidate your diagnosis; they're symptoms. For me, DA often feels like "if I don't look at it, it can't get me" - If I ignore all the messages I've got they aren't real and don't have real consequences so I'll just ignore my texts. If I don't look at the vendor email about the order, the problem with the order isn't real and it won't get added to my task list. If I don't look at the requests in my inbox I can't let people down when I don't do them. It's a self-protective coping mechanism but it's *maladaptive* and I can't just ignore the vendor email or all my texts. I need to work on a way of doing the stuff that I'm avoiding in a way that makes it less stressful and doesn't hurt the people relying on me. That takes a lot of effort, personal insight, trial and error, and )
But before I dive into specifics I want to be really really clear about one thing: sometimes people are simply incompatible. Sometimes one person has such a low tolerance for "mess" and the other person has such a high threshold for "mess" that it can't be reconciled. It sucks that this can end up being a thing that people break up over, but it is MUCH better to acknowledge incompatibility as early as possible instead of spending years and years building resentment.
There used to be a great forum called MiL's Anonymous that I spent a lot of time on. It had a lot of people in a lot of difficult situations struggling to get by and hold their relationships together. The question that was used as a litmus test to approach each situation was simple: If you knew today that everything about living with this person would be the same in five years, would you stay?
Because you can't control your partner. You can't control the future. You can only control yourself and your proximity to situations that are harmful to you. If you knew, 100%, that things wouldn't get better in five years, would you be okay with staying in this relationship? If the answer is "no," then that's that. Don't worry about questions of whether or not your boyfriend is a shithead, start the process of ending the relationship because there's a good chance the situation is going to be exactly the same in five years.
If the answer is "yes," and you'd stay in the relationship regardless of whether or not things changed, then it's time to take actions to improve your life within the context of the relationship.
(No judgement on that yes or no, btw. If you would hate living like this for another five years, and you would feel like you'd wasted your time and hadn't done the things you wanted to with your life, get out. Bail. Go. It will be better for you and better for your partner if you split instead of spending half a decade building resentments and and problems that you'll have to spend another half a decade healing from.)
Also, a note: you describe your boyfriend's mess as borderline hoarding - is the issue *mess* or is the issue *clutter*? I have friends who are very tidy, but whose homes are very cluttered. They like things, they have many things, they keep many things around, but their houses are always clean and well-dusted and orderly, just with a tremendous amount of *stuff.* I am addressing all of this as though the issue is mess, not clutter. If your boyfriend's situation is clutter (the space is busy and packed with things but it is functional and clean) and your issue isn't with *mess* (things out of place, things not having a place, things that need to be cleaned up gathering in stacks, falling behind on regular chores like laundry and dishes and taking out the trash) then you definitely need to assess whether or not you are compatible.
For instance here's a room that is messy but not cluttered compared to a room that is cluttered but not messy:
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That first room is a *mess* but it would be very easy to clean up in under an hour. The second room is fairly tidy, but would take significant effort to pare down and declutter. BOTH of these can be difficult to live with but the second one is not dangerous or threatening to anyone's health. (The second one is QUITE cluttered and if every room in a house looks like this it can be overwhelming to live with; this is actually harder to deal with in a relationship than the first one in a lot of ways. I don't have a lot of advice for what to do if your partner is a high degree of tidy-but-cluttered because I don't actually think it's a problem or wrong to have thousands of books or bins full of lego or a million kitchen appliances as long as you have the space and can keep it safe and well-maintained; this is a really significant compatibility issue)
Okay, all that out of the way, here's the hard work.
Talk about this shit
Talk to your partner and define "mess." Make sure you are on the same page about what you mean when you're talking about what a messy room looks like versus what a tidy room looks like. Gather reference pictures. DRAW reference pictures.
Explain not just that the mess upsets you, but *why* and *how* it upsets you. In this context don't think of it as your boyfriend's mess, think of it as an unpleasant roommate. Discuss this using "I-statements". "When I have to pick up laundry all over the apartment, I feel like a parent more than a partner." "When there are piles of miniatures all over the table, I feel like I don't have anywhere to do things I'm interested in." "When there are dishes in the sink, I feel frustrated because I have to clean before I can feed myself."
Discuss, frankly and openly, whether he knows how to clean. I'm not trying to make excuses for him here but a lot of people with ADHD have a lot of stress and avoidance around cleaning because they spent a lot of time getting yelled at for not knowing how to clean properly.
Discuss your needs, be firm about what you require but willing to compromise. You *need* some spaces to be clean, and some spaces may be harder for him to keep clean than others. It may be MUCH harder for him to keep a bedroom tidy than it is to keep a kitchen tidy; if you need a clean and empty bedroom with everything put away and he simply cannot do that, that is a compatibility issue. But perhaps you need *your* side of the bedroom to be very orderly and can tolerate a moderate level of mess and clutter on his side. Maybe you're really really bothered by a messy kitchen, but it doesn't bug you if the dining table is covered with projects and papers. Figure out something more workable than "his mess goes everywhere and i live with it because he's incapable of cleaning" because he probably is not incapable of cleaning and you deserve to have places in your home that are comfortable for you.
Reduce friction for cleaning
Sometimes the problem isn't cleaning, the problem is the many many steps before cleaning, or not knowing where something should go when you are done cleaning. One of the absolute best things I've done for myself for cleaning my space is getting a broom holder and mounting the broom to the wall. Sweeping is now essentially thoughtless. I don't have to find the broom or pull it out from a pile of fans or go scrounging around for a dustpan it's right there on the wall, frictionless. So here are some ways to reduce the barriers to cleaning:
Make sure you and your partner both know how to use your cleaning supplies and know where those supplies are. When I switched dishwasher soap I had to re-show Large Bastard where I was storing it and how it was used, because to him what happened was the dishwasher tabs just vanished one day and he didn't know what I was putting in the machine or the process I used. He sometimes puts tools away in places that I can't see (he's more than a foot taller than me) so sometimes I can't get started on a maintenance project until he shows me where he put the battery pack for the drill.
Consider making a how-to chart to or having him make a how-to chart to keep someplace accessible so he can reference it while cleaning. Goblin.Tools Magic ToDo is great for this. Basically a lot of the time people with ADHD have trouble knowing what to do from step to step even if they've done something before, so having a step by step guide can make it easier (I have notebooks full of step-by-step guides for everything from paying for my tuition to removing licenses for my customers to weeding my yard)
Remove obstacles; don't keep cleaning chemicals in the garage in a box that's behind a stack of parts, keep them in the room you'll be cleaning. Don't keep the cleaning supplies that you use to clean the bathroom in the kitchen. Sometimes this means buying two bottles of bleach solution and two scrubbers and two sets of cleaning gloves but having fewer steps (fetch the windex, fetch the paper towels, fetch the gloves) is often the key to getting things done (open under-sink cabinet and grab windex, gloves, and paper towels that are there instead of in the kitchen).
This sort of overlaps with the next category, which is:
Create Dump Zones
One thing that I've found that seems very different between people with ADHD cleaning and neurotypical people cleaning is that neurotypical people are good at getting to a point where the cleaning is "done." They have checked off their tasks and they have finished and it is over. There are *SOME* chores that are like this (taking out the trash is a binary state, the trash has been taken out or it has not) and some chores are perpetual (horrid cursed dishes) but I think with people with ADHD, some chores that are binary for neurotypicals are actually perpetual chores. For instance "clean off the counter" is not a one and done for me. "Clean off the counter" may involve a three day reorganization project. "Clean off the counter" does not mean "wipe down the tile and put dishes away" it means assessing whether or not I need to make vegetable stock and bleaching three tea containers and reconsidering whether or not the sharps container should live somewhere else and going through the mail and figuring out what needs to be responded to and taking out the recycling and on and on and on.
We have had company at the house for the last two weeks, so I asked large bastard to clean off the dining room table, which is largely a project zone for him. Cleaning off the dining room table meant putting away his meds (and since he's a transplant patient that involves a 30 gallon rubbermade tote), throwing away some trash, and totally reorganizing his workshop. It also incidentally involved picking up a table from facebook marketplace and moving my plants, which has now involved moving my former plant rack outside (moving buckets, finding and organizing planters and gardening tools) and taking the former table to the thrift store (not done yet) and cleaning the rug that was under the former table. So "either the table is clean, or it isn't" isn't really true for us.
HOWEVER "hang on we can't eat until the table is clear so let's drive to Pico Rivera to get that console table right now" isn't a workable plan, so you create dumpzones as areas of holding between the start and the finish of the chore.
A dump zone can be a laundry basket. It can be a craft bin. It can be a back room or under your bed. It is a place to put things that you are going to deal with later because if you deal with them now it is going to derail the thing you are actually trying to do, which is set the table for dinner.
Dump zones are vital to cleaning with ADHD and I recommend them for day-to-day cleaning as well. The day-to-day dump zones might be more for you than for your boyfriend. For instance, Large Bastard works with bullets and he sheds bullets all over the house. I used to get stressed when I found bullets when I was cleaning because are these work bullets? Are these recreational bullets? Are they in testing? Do they need to be pulled? Do they go in the workshop or the office or the garage or does he need these today so they have to stay on the counter? And the answer now is "that's not my problem naughty bullets go in the jar." Which is perfectly sensible because he gets to say "mystery yarn goes in the bin" and "art supplies go in the bucket."
I feel helpless when cleaning a lot of the time. I'm frustrated and lost and I don't know where stuff goes and everything I pick up spins off into three projects in my head and every step feels like a wall to scale. Dump zones help me with that when there's pressure or a reason for cleaning beyond day to day home maintenance. People are coming over? The bedroom is a dump zone, I'll deal with that later. I'm just cleaning up because I need to? Okay I can find a permanent home for this new dish soap.
AS A VERY IMPORTANT COROLLARY TO THIS:
Active projects do not go in dump zones while you or your partner are cleaning. This may mean designating a project sanctuary area like a corner of the table or one particular chair in your main room where a project can be placed so as not to be disturbed. (if my current crochet project ends up in the yarn bin, that may mean that I don't pick the project up for another three months, it lives on the windowsill behind the couch because that's where it'll get worked on)
Do not put things away for your partner, put them in the dump zone for your partner. Your partner has to be the one to put their own stuff away in a way that works for them. I tend to find that this naturally puts a limit on the time stuff sits in the dump zone, because eventually you'll go "hey where's my thing?" and will put stuff away. If that doesn't happen, it's still generally better to have stuff in a dump zone than all over the home.
Do not decide you know what things go together from your partner's stuff and try to "put like things together." The neurotypical urge to put like things together is the mindkiller(j/k). You do not know which things are "similar" in your partner's organization schema and attempting to organize things on your own is going to end up with all of the things "organized" being functionally lost forever from your partner's perspective. Large Bastard's mom would do this and it was infuriating, she'd say "oh I put all the electronics stuff in one box" and she would mean soldering irons, transistors, ham radios, HDMI cables, and cellphone chargers. We are *still* going through boxes of stuff that she "tidied up" when he was hospitalized in 2020 and 2021.
To prevent the need for quite so many dump zones over time, you can work on setting up landing zones and "homes" for projects and tools.
Landing Zones
Landing zones are places where things go when you come inside from doing various things. Sometimes your landing zone only needs to be a tray for your wallet and keys, sometimes your landing zone needs to be a place to take off muddy boots and put a trowel and gloves down before you shower.
To make an effective landing zone, consider what behaviors you're trying to minimize and whether the people using it are ACTUALLY going to use it. For instance I was tired of the corner of my hearth getting cluttered with random junk so I hung up some hooks and put a shelf and a basket there and it became a really effective landing zone for my bag and keys and the mail, but it was VERY ineffective for Large Bastard because it's by a door that isn't the primary door he uses to enter the house. As a result I always know where my keys and bag are but he has trouble finding his keys and wallet. He tends to enter the house through our bedroom and has an overloaded valet next to the door and that's usually where his wallet ends up. Mounting a shelf to the wall above the valet and putting a basket and a hook on it will be a better place for his stuff to land. It's not that he's not using the first zone because he doesn't know that it's there, or because he doesn't care about lost time when I'm searching for my car keys after he borrows them, he's not using it because it's not by the door he uses. That's all.
I have a landing space for when I come in for gardening that's different than the one when I come in from grocery shopping. I have a landing space for when I walk into the dining room instead of the kitchen when I get home.
Landing spaces prevent stuff from piling up all over the place because they are a limited functional space that should be used frequently. Mail ONLY goes in the landing zone. If you have mystery mail or if you're not sure it's safe to toss, you put it in the landing zone. You can't let the mail get piled up too high or you won't have a space for your keys. You can't let the change in your wallet tray get too deep or your wallet is going to slide off, etc., but you also don't just put change on the coffee table or your nightstand because the landing zone is right there.
Homes for items are just what they sound like. They're the place the item goes. It lives there. My meds live on my nightstand. You would not believe how poorly I did with taking my meds on my vacation because they weren't on my nightstand. A while back large bastard lost one of his sets of sorted meds and we tore the house up looking for them because he couldn't find them in his nightstand, which is where they live. *I* found them in his nightstand because I emptied out the entire top drawer (he had only looked on the top layer) and found them underneath a radio and a hammock. Even though they were *hidden* they were in their home, so they were findable. I recently needed ink for an art class. Art supplies live in a dresser by my desk. Ink lives in the art bin or the top left drawer. The ink was not in either of these places (it was on a cabinet in the dining room behind a teacup) so it took me weeks to find it.
Sometimes the reason that ADHD spaces are so messy is because objects have been assigned homes in places that are visible and if they get moved they get lost. This is a genuinely difficult problem that requires a lot of effort to solve and can involve a lot of trial and error for creating a tidy living space. For some people, open shelving and visible storage might be a good solution. For some people, assigning a VERY clear home and inculcating that location by habit is the only way to clean up a space. For some people one very cluttered corner to at least isolate the chaos does the trick (for me and large bastard open shelving doesn't work because anything in one place for too long becomes invisible; that means that I rely on assigning things homes and large bastard relies on having contained chaos and a general idea of where to search but what that DOES NOT mean is that he is clean or tidy. His spaces look like an explosion. But he can mostly find his stuff and do what he needs to do and as long as that's limited to specific places in shared spaces I can live with it; the dining room table can be a disaster, the kitchen cannot).
People organize things differently. It often takes a while for neurotypical adults to settle into an organizational style that works for them and ADHD adults may need to settle into a new system every few months for it to continue working. The cleanup and declutter is most likely going to be a permanent project that is always going to demand some level of attention from everyone in a shared space, but "my ADHD means I can't do it" is not really going to fly. Maybe his ADHD means that he can't keep his space tidy, but it doesn't mean you can't move stuff from shared spaces into dump zones or that he can't do stuff around the house.
If he's insisting that his ADHD means that he can't clean it is possible that he's not being a shithead, he just feels helpless and doesn't know where to start and has adopted the belief that he's a useless piece of shit who can't even keep a tidy space like a grownup because he's internalized a lot of shitty attitudes (hello, my internal monologue about keeping a clean house). But it's also possible that he's just being a shithead.
It's something that's worthwhile to investigate with him. If he's unwilling to make an attempt, then he's being a shithead.
It is also not your responsibility to rehabilitate another person. If he wants to clean and it's something he feels bad about and needs some help and support with the way that someone might need help or support for learning to use a mobility aid, that is fine but you don't have to be the one who gives him that support if it's detrimental to your health, and you don't have to be the one to teach him that stuff if it's not something you're capable of. And if he is NOT interested in working on making your shared living space more accessible for you, that is not your suitcase to unpack and you just have to ask yourself the question from the start: would I stay with this person if I knew the situation was never going to change?
IDK, I'm sure a lot of this reads like "anon you must take on the emotional labor of training your partner to be an adult" but it's really meant to be more of a way of assessing yourself and your relationship. If you created landing zones do you think he'd use them? Would he get angry if you assigned a laundry basket as a dump zone for his stuff while you tidy the living room? Is living with him long-term going to be comfortable for you if nothing changes? Do you have enough of a shared definition of "mess" that you're at least in the ballpark for what counts as a clean house?
anyway good luck, and a reminder to folks that I'm compiling a bunch of adhd resources and other information on my personal website, ms-demeanor.com. It's coming along slowly but it will eventually include stuff like ADHD cleaning tips and how to tackle a hoard, so maybe keep your eye on that space.
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thevoidstaredback · 3 days
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A funny thought just came to me, so here's a new writing prompt:
The Justice League doesn't think that Batman has a civilian identity. For the most part, he only ever comes out at night, adding to the nocturnal rumors, but he has been seen during the day when there are huge problems or bigger rouge attacks.
And, because the JL don't think he has a civilian identity, they naturally assume that none of the other Gotham Vigilantes do, either. Signal, the only consistent day shift, is obviously a different breed than the rest. All of the others are nocturnal.
Extra points if they think they're a group of cryptids.
One day, Bruce and Tim are needed to help set up at WE for a press conference. One that Lois Lane is covering. At the same time, the JL Is having a meeting. Normally Dick would put on the Batman suit, but Nightwing is needed at the meeting, too. They can't say that Batman is off world, because all of those trips are logged and followed by the Lanterns. So, the next logical thing to do is for Nightwing to tell the JL that Batman and Red Robin were needed as civilians, but he will make sure to pass the information on to them, as well as record the meeting.
"Batman doesn't have a civilian identity," Is the response he gets. "None of you do, right?"
Nightwing, for all his training, doesn't react outside of his smile getting slightly bigger. "You don't think we have secret identities?"
"No, we kinda just assumed you all just hid away in a cave or something when you weren't needed or on duty."
Oh, these sweet summer children. Nightwing is trying very hard not to laugh at them. "We, we do have secret identities, we don't do nothing when we aren't in costume."
"Are you sure?" That's the Flash. "'Cause I'm pretty sure we'd recognize you guys out of costume." Kudos to him for being so confident about that. "Most of you only have tiny masks over your eyes. That's not enough to cover an identity."
Nightwing takes a glance at Superman, not that anyone can see his eyes move behind the domino mask. The alien's eyes have shifted left.
"I've been to Gotham plenty of time," Green Arrow speaks up, "I know I haven't seen everyone in the city, but I'm pretty sure I'd recognize your build. It's pretty distinct."
Bold. All of the Wayne Clan have met Green Arrow in and out of costume. They've actually met most of the JL in and out of costume. Should he tell them? Nah, that's not funny. He can't wait to tell the others.
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wonryllis · 19 hours
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the hot dad next door (m) | park sunghoon.
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﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘁 𝗱𝗮𝗱 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗼𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂?
preview. the ever quintessential first time dad moves in next door with his five year old and finds it impossible not to fall for you, the pretty girl who gives his daughter cookies and him; the doll eyes. obsessed with your entire being, unable to keep his hands off you, park sunghoon questions if he's just crazy or he's crazy over you.
or where, he notices the way you look at his hands a little too long for it to be innocent.
meet the cast. single dad!park sunghoon with his pretty neighbour fem!reader.
genre. DILFF AUU !!, SMUT MDNI, fluff, neighbours to lovers, sunghoon is quite literally yes insanely crazed over you and for the sake of god can't keep his dick soft, domestic a little bit i guess, i want to make her my wife trope EEEKKK, slight age gap (hoon in late twenties and reader in early twenties) more to be added.
word count. est around 10k (current wc, 2k)
warnings. inaccuracies about parenting cause i aint a parent, i got no idea. more will be mentioned in the actual post.
releasing. very soon!!
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park sunghoon was hot, he was a walking greek god. was single and wore these fitted suits that had you weak in the knees. if that wasn't hot enough, park sunghoon also had the cutest baby girl you had ever come across and it just made him hotter than he could ever have been.
"hey, um .. is ji—" sunghoon stands at the threshold of your open apartment door, one hand holding his creased blazer and the other rubbing at the back of his neck. embarrassed and shy at having to show up at yours looking like a mess after work because his daughter ran off while he was busy on a call and taking out her school bag from the backseat. and because everytime his daughter ran off, it was to the pretty girl next door who gives away sweet cookies all the time.
"is jia here? yeah she's in the kitchen," you answer, smiling soft and knowingly at the worried guy who barely looked like a dad. he worked in a corporate editorial, out before eight in the morning just as you prepared ingredients for your bakery. taking his daughter along to school, her excited voice resonating through the halls talking about how they were going to play with clay in class. around seven in the evening you'd hear her again, this time alone as she would skip over to your door because dada was too slow.
on weekends it'd be impossible to ignore the ruckus they made playing around, sometimes inviting you over for lunch because sunghoon apparently made too much and jia wanted to share her dada's delicious food. on some occasional weekends when he'd be called in to work for a few hours, jia would promise him to stay home and behave only to call you through the landline the moment he'd step out the door. and you would text sunghoon to come over to yours after work, his daughter munching on the new flavored cupcakes you made, unbothered about her dad and his scoldings.
"come on in, i made some almond lime tart, you could give me some feedbacks along with jia. you know she always says it's good and i can never know if it's actually good," sunghoon can't help but chuckle at that, slipping off his shoes by the front and walking inside. his eyes following your figure with a fond look as you tend to his daughter delicately, and might he admit— even more so than him.
you're sweet, you know how to handle kids; cue that one time jia was crying her eyes out after school and he had no idea what to do to comfort her, knocking at your door frantically and having his mind blown at how quickly you figured things out and calmed her down.
you're sweet, you know how to handle kids, you treat them both so well, always ready to help him out with jia, giving them sweet treats every other day and most of all— you're fucking pretty. way too pretty for him to handle.
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taglist ( open. ) @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @shawnyle @enhastolemyheart @belowbun @aaa-sia @niniissus @tobiosbbyghorl @imjakes-wifeofc1 @youresolivlie @eun-cherry @kimsunoops @aiden2001 @brownsugarbaybee @pockettwinzz @bangtancultsposts @diorikis @heelvsted @crimnalseung @iselltulips @yzzyhee @woniebae @river-demon-slayer @lovingvoidgoatee @antonsgirlfriend @kpopslover @bugcattie @slut4hee @yunjinswifee @woniefull @nanaheex @soobs-things
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woso-dreamzzz · 1 day
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End of the World IV
Katie McCabe x Child!Reader
Caitlin Foord x Child!Reader
Summary: Christmas in Australia
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Before Christmas, there was an argument.
Ma wanted to take you with her for Christmas but Mammy also wanted to take you.
There was a big argument, like how there's always an argument when Ma and Mammy are in the same room.
You end up with Mammy though because she was doing more 'child safe' things. That means you're in Australia with her and Caitlin.
Australia is hot at Christmas and you don't think you like that. Mammy had to buy you a whole new wardrobe because your summer clothes are stuck in boxes in the loft and Mammy couldn't get them out in time because Ma decided too late to let you go with her.
You're on a beach right now, digging your toe into the sand in unease as Mammy tries to get you to step foot in the sea.
You shake your head. "No."
"Kiddo," She says," Come on. It's just the ocean. It won't hurt you."
You keep shaking your head. "Ma said that Australia's oceans have sharks that will eat me."
Katie sighs deeply, cursing Ruesha in her mind before Caitlin steps forward.
"I can look after her," She says," At least until you're done swimming."
"Are you sure?" Katie checks. She knows that Caitlin is still a little wary around you and she doesn't want to make either of you feel awkward.
"It's fine," Caitlin insists," We'll have fun in the sand. It'll be good."
You're still holding your bucket and spade as Caitlin leads you away from Mammy. You sniffle a little bit as Mammy paddles out into the sea leaving you with Caitlin alone.
She sets you up next to the towels and the big basket of stuff she and Mammy brought with. You stare at her. She stares back.
"So," Caitlin says," Do you want to make a sandcastle?"
You sniffle.
Caitlin's eyes go wide.
"Wait! No, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you sad! We don't need to make sandcastles!"
You burst into tears and Caitlin grows even more panicked.
"Is it the sand? We can go and sit on the steps!"
"Mammy!" You whine, reaching out towards Katie has disappeared into the sea," Mammy's gone!"
Caitlin follows your gaze. "Oh, she's not gone. She's just out swimming."
"Mammy!" You cry again, tears spilling down your cheeks," The sharks are gonna get her!"
"They won't," Caitlin tries to assure you.
"They will!" You insist," Ma said the sharks in Australia are always in the sea."
Cautiously, Caitlin reaches out for you. She gently manoeuvres you into her lap and you let her. "See that lifeguard there?" She points at a man in a big chair," And that building over there? They make sure that sharks aren't in the water."
"Really?"
"Yep," Caitlin says," If any sharks swim in then they tell everyone so no one goes in the water."
You wipe your nose on the towel that's been wrapped around you. "Promise?"
"I promise, kiddo. Katie'll be very safe. Do you want to build a sandcastle now?"
You shake your head, fisting the strap of Caitlin's swimsuit. "No thank you. Stay like this please."
Caitlin tries not to let her shock show as she nods. "Sure, yeah, we can stay like this."
Katie isn't quite sure what to say when she gets out of the water to see Caitlin trying to sunbathe with a limp and sleeping you lying on her chest.
"Hey," Katie says, with a little smile," What's all this then?"
"She was convinced the sharks were going to eat you," Caitlin replies with an eye roll, gently tracing patterns against your back," But she's fine now."
"Well," Katie says," I think that's our cue to head back and have our own naps. She's dead to the world right now."
"What about lunch?"
Katie shrugs as she very carefully picks you up, adjusting you so your head is buried in her neck. "We can get a late lunch afterwards. The little miss needs an actual pillow to rest her head." She looks down at you with a wince. You're truly, deeply asleep. "And maybe a pull up too."
Caitlin and Katie end up asleep as well and Katie wakes up groggy to small hands shaking her shoulder.
Caitlin's arm is thrown over her shoulder as she blinks awake.
"Kiddo?" She asks," What's wrong?"
"I'm hungry, Mammy," You say," Can we have lunch now?"
"Yeah, we can get lunch. Let me just get Caitlin up."
474 notes · View notes
f1goat · 2 days
Text
more than friends ; lando norris + part twelve
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In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.
masterlist - playlist
fem!y/n x lando norris
warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.
requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things
part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine / part ten / part eleven
“Fuck.” Lando can’t hold back this time. The word leave his mouth before he can think about it. He wants to intervene, but he knows he can’t. If it was up to him, he would drag you away and fuck you until you can’t even spell Pierre anymore, but that’s not something he can do. At least, not anymore. He fucked it up. 
Oscar sends him a pitiful look, but doesn’t say anything. His teammate knows that something has changed between Lando and you, but he doesn’t know what. Oscar wishes he knew, he feels like he needs to help the two of you before everything is broken. He keeps looking at Lando, waiting for him to snap and to say something, but nothing happens. All of Lando his focus is on you - and on Pierre who’s dancing with you. 
Lando sighs. He wants to cry. If he thinks about what happened long enough, then maybe he’ll cry for real. He feels the gaze of Oscar his eyes burning on his back. Maybe he should talk with his teammate. Maybe Oscar can help? He doubts it, but there are no other options. Maybe Oscar is his last hope. When he turns himself to Oscar, the boy is already waiting for him to speak up. 
“I think I lost her,” Lando stammers. He has never said words like this before, never have words felt this painful to say out loud, it breaks him down even further. 
“What happened?” Oscar asks. 
“I fucked it up,” Lando sighs. 
+++
“Lan?” “Yeah?”
“I uh, I was wondering how this will continue between us?” You ask a bit careful, “I mean are we going to continue to have sex or are we going back to how things where? It feels like you’ve learned me quite a lot and I don’t know what will happen now, you know?” The words are coming out like a mess, you can only hope that Lando understands what you mean. Maybe this is your coward way of asking Lando if he wants to make things different. 
Lando doesn’t know what to say. He realizes that this is the moment to come clean about his feelings for you, but he doesn’t. “Uh, we can continue like this?” He suggests at first. 
“But what will happen then?” You ask, “How will it affect our friendship?”
“The same as now, right?” Lando doesn’t know where you’re going with the questions. 
“But we can’t always stay friends who fuck, right?” You question. An annoyed feeling creeps up. Why doesn’t Lando understand your deeper meaning? 
“There are plenty people who do so, it’s called friends with benefits,” Lando informs you. He almost slaps himself for telling it so casual, why isn’t he confessing about his feelings? Why can’t he find the right words and tell you? 
“I know what that is,” you sigh, “but do you want that for us? What will happen if you meet another girl? Or if you’re done with me? I mean it feels like some sort of endless situation which will only slow us down at one point. What if our friendship gets in the way?”
Lando tries to follow all the questions, but he doesn’t know if every one of them actually got into his mind. It feels like it’s all too much. What are you saying? Why are you talking about him with another girl? Does that mean you want to search for a boyfriend yourself? In some weird way he convinces himself that it must mean that you want a boyfriend - someone else then him. 
“You can just say so if you want a boyfriend and want to stop this with me,” he eventually snickers to you. 
You show Lando a confused look. “That’s not what I’m saying?” You react surprised.
“No, but it is what you actually mean with your words, isn’t it?” Lando continues. He feels himself getting frustrated. Why did he even have hope that things would end different? Suddenly he’s glad that he didn’t confess his feelings, you would have turned him down anyway. 
“Lan, that’s bullshit,” you reply a bit annoyed, “I’m just saying that this is an hopeless situation. I need some clearance.” 
“Okay, here is your clarity,” Lando spits the words out, “We’re not fucking anymore, we’re just friends and you can find yourself some boyfriend to fuck with.” His voice gets louder with every word he says. What he doesn’t notice until it’s too late, is the way you look at him. Tears are rolling over your cheeks. 
“If that’s what you want,” you softly mutter, “then that’s fine.”
Lando doesn’t think before he talks. He speaks up with only angry and frustrated feelings inside of him to do the thinking right now. “Apparently it’s what you want,” he states angrily. 
“I uh, I need some time for myself,” you softly say, barely being able to hold back your cries. “I’ll see you later in the club.”
With those words you walk away from Lando. He watches you leave. It almost feels like some stupid movie scene. Lando watches how you walk away from him, dressed in a beautiful dress - that was already starring in his plans for when the two of you came back to the hotel room tonight. He feels a small tear rolling down on his cheek. Why did you leave? No, he can’t ask himself a question as stupid as that. You left because he accused you of the most stupid shit, just because he was too afraid to tell you about his feelings. Again. Fuck, he should have told you. He thinks about running after you, but when he opens the door he notices that you’re already gone. 
He wonders how you’re going to the club, since you told him that you’d see him there. How are you going to get there in a strange country where you don’t know anyone expect a few drivers? Lando sighs. He starts to worry about you. Hurriedly he changes his outfit and makes himself ready to also head to the club. He needs to make things right. 
+++
“Fuck man,” Oscar sighs, “That’s so fucking stupid.”
“I know,” Lando confesses, “I don’t know what I was thinking.. Fuck. How am I going to fix this?”
Oscar doesn’t respond at first. It gives Lando the time to take another look at you again. You’re still dancing with Pierre. The Alpine driver is almost pressed against your body, Lando feels himself getting angry. Why him? You have been with Pierre since Lando saw you again. The looks you send him when he tried to approach you said enough. You’re not in the mood to talk with him. 
“Just confess mate,” Oscar eventually says, “You can’t make things worse right? Just explain everything to her.” 
“But.”
“No buts,” Oscar interrupts, “just be honest with her.” 
Lando sighs. He can’t look away from you. He notices the way Pierre moves his head to get closer to your neck so he can press his lips against it. Lando hopes his marks are still somewhere on your body. Fuck, that seems really territorial, but he can’t blame himself for thinking like this. 
“Lando, go to her,” Oscar states again, “Staring and acting like some mad caveman won’t help you.” 
He sees Pierre moving again. This time holding you closely in front of himself. It looks like he wants to kiss you. Is he going to try to kiss you? Fuck. Lando wants to do many things. Walk away and stop watching so he can’t see it happen or walking as fast as he can towards you and pull you away from Pierre. When he continues to watch, he notices that you finally seek eye contact with him. Then he notices your look. Are you asking him for help? It seems like you’re really uncomfortable. Or is he just imagining things to make this better for himself? 
Lando stops thinking. He almost sprints towards you and Pierre, leaving Oscar by himself while doing so. When he’s standing in front of you, he still doesn’t think about his next movements. Lando grabs your wrist, pulls you towards himself and tries to walk away with you. 
“What the fuck are you doing?” You ask him. 
“Mate fuck off,” Pierre sneers, “you’ve had your chance.” 
“Lando, you can’t just drag me away from Pierre. It doesn’t work like that!” You yell annoyed. A small part in you hopes that Lando does drag you away from Pierre. After all, the only reason you’re dancing this close with Pierre is to cause a reaction by Lando. But you don’t know what will happen after.
“Watch me,” Lando grunts. Easily he lifts you up and puts you halfway on his shoulder. Holding you close he starts to walk away from Pierre. “Can’t just drag you away,” he mutters annoyed, “As if I’m going to look at him with my girl any longer.” He puts his hand on your ass, making sure no one can see anything from underneath your dress. The small gesture makes you smile.
When he passes Oscar, he notices the way his teammate is almost laughing out loud. “Fucking caveman,” Oscar is quick to tell him before Lando continues walking with you on his shoulder. “Just confess!” Oscar yells when Lando walks away from him. 
You really don’t know what to think right now. Yes, you did want a reaction from Lando. Yes, you did want to annoy him until he would finally snap. But did you want it to end up like this? You don’t know if you’re honest. Not that you expected such a big reaction from Lando. He literally put you onto his shoulders to take you away with him. That seems a bit much, right? When Lando reaches his rental car, he opens the passenger door and puts you down on the ground again. It’s obvious that he wants you to take place in the car, but you don’t. 
“Y/N,” Lando groans, “I swear to god, go sit in the fucking car.” 
“Why?” You ask him. 
“Because we’re going to talk.”
“We did talk,” you sigh, “and you made yourself perfectly clear. We’re not fucking anymore so I can find myself a boyfriend, since that’s what I want according to you.”
“Correction, I’m going to fuck away this terrible attitude of yours and then we’re going to talk.”
You don’t say anything. Maybe because this is kinda what you wanted? Who can blame you. Lando is fucking hot when he’s mad. Quietly you step in to the car.
The car ride is in an awkward silence. Lando his hand lays on your thigh. It feels like he’s marking you as his with the simple move, but you don’t know who he expects to reach since it’s just to two of you. His eyes are switching between you and the road. You’re also looking at him. At first you tried not to since you’re mad at him, but when you gave him a small look you couldn’t stop anymore. 
The harsh conversation between the two of you isn’t longer then a couple hours ago, but you can see it’s impact on Lando. Or maybe it’s the impact from watching at Pierre and you? At first you never knew when Lando cried or how to spot the signs that he was about to. But after being his friend for so many years, you now know. Lando looks like a mess. Your mess. 
It feels weird when you enter Lando and yours hotel room again. Both of you don’t know what to say. It makes you annoyed when Lando keeps pacing around and doesn’t say anything. And doesn’t fuck you. 
“I thought you were going to do something?” You ask him, “Or do I need to get myself back to Pierre to get fucked?” You don’t know where you found those words and how they end up leaving your mouth, but at least Lando isn’t pacing around anymore. 
He feels like he lost all of his sanity right now. Lando rushes towards you and harshly lifts you up again, only to throw you onto the bed. He turns you so you’re laying on your stomach and pulls you closer to himself. Within seconds your dress is pulled up and Lando his bottoms are hanging around his legs. He tugs on your thongs until they fall apart. Satisfied he looks at your snapped string. 
Before you can say anything about it, Lando makes sure that your ass is lifted in the air. Without any sort of warning or foreplay he lets his dick enter you. It causes you to let out a loud scream, “Fuck Lando!” He doubts for a bit about himself and his actions, but when you follow that scream with multiple moans, his doubts are quick to disappear. He fucks you without thinking about being soft, nice or anything like that. It’s animalistic. He has lost all his patience and can only focus on fucking you as hard as he can manage. 
“Fucking slut,” he grunts when he hears a loud moan from you. 
“Your slut, sir,” you say softly. You almost don’t dare to say it. When you feel Lando his pace decreasing, you feel ashamed of your words.
“What did you just say?” Lando asks you. He’s barely fucking you anymore, rarely he moves his dick in and out of you. He needs to make sure that he heard you right. 
“Your slut, sir,” you tell him again.
“Fuck,” Lando mutters, “Only mine?” 
“Yes,” you agree with him.
“Not Pierre’s?” Lando continues to ask.
“No,” you quickly state, “Wanted you to snap.”
Lando lets out a low chuckle after hearing your words. You wanted him to snap? He doesn’t know what you mean with that, but he does know you just said that Pierre’s not even close to him. He pulls back a bit, letting his dick leave your body. It causes you to let out a soft whine. Lando turns you around and looks at you. You already look fucked out. 
“Baby girl,” Lando mutters softly, “You’re the actual worst.” Lando stays silent for a couple seconds before speaking up again. “Should punish you for those actions,” he says. 
“What’s stopping you?” You ask Lando. 
“You,” Lando chuckles. 
You show Lando a confused look. What does he mean with that? Lando takes place to you next on the bed. Softly he grabs your waist and pulls you on his lap. Careful he presses a few kisses against your neck and shoulders. He moves his hands on your body. Kneading your tits and softly pulling on your nipples. It causes you to let out multiple soft moans and whines. You want - no need, more of him. 
“Lan,” you softly speak up. 
“I know, I know,” Lando replies, “but be patient baby.”
“Aren’t you mad anymore?” You ask confused. You still don’t get why Lando is all calmed down after your confession of using Pierre to make him snap. Could it be that he feels more calm now he knows that you only think about him?
“What did you mean with making me snap?” Lando asks you. 
“What you just did,” you explain, “fucking me like you own me. Snapping at Pierre and me, dragging me away only to show me and everyone else that you think I belong to you. Showing how you actually feel. Just waiting for you to tell me.”
You know you’re passing the safe way back now. With everything you just said, Lando can probably fill in the blanks himself. It should be pretty obvious now how you feel about him. You can only hope that you got Lando his feelings right as well. You’re putting a lot of fate in Oscar right now. In the mean time you move yourself, getting off Lando his lap and taking a seat next to him on the bed.
After your earlier discussion with Lando, you left and got to Oscar his hotel room. Together with him you made up this plan. Oscar was sure that only a bit of dancing with Pierre would make Lando snap within minutes. It took a bit longer, but eventually Oscar was right. Now he only has to be right about Lando his feelings for you…
“You want that?” Lando asks you confused. 
You only show him a small nod. 
“You really wanted me to act like this?” Lando continues to ask, he still can’t believe it. When you nod again, Lando doesn’t stop with his questions. “You actually wanted me to act like some sort of jealous caveman?” 
“I didn’t expect you to put me onto your shoulder,” you confess, “but I wanted you to show me that I belong to you.”
“Why?” Lando asks confused, “I really don’t get it babygirl. Like, I don’t even understand why I’m acting like this and I actually feel ashamed for it - but you, you like it? You want this?”
“It gives me hope,” you tell Lando. 
“Hope?” He asks confused.
“Hope that you like me back.”
Lando doesn’t know if he hears you correct. Did you actually say that it gives you the hope that he likes you back? Likes you back? That means that you like him, right? Lando really can’t wrap his head around everything that’s happening right now. He thought you would be mad at him. Mad for the way he acted earlier today and for what he said. Mad for the way he acted in the club. But you are glad that he acted this way and you’re telling him that you like him? Is this even real? Isn’t he still standing in the club, looking at Pierre dancing with you and imagining this to make it feel better? He can’t even help himself and softly pinches some skin on his arm. 
“I’ve said too much,” you say when Lando keeps quiet, “The hint is clear Lan. Sorry for the way I acted. Sorry for falling for you, I hope we still can be friends?” 
Just when Lando thought he was finally processing everything you just said, you’re saying stuff like this. He thinks about telling you how much he likes you too, but eventually he lets his actions speak for himself. Softly he grabs your shoulders and pulls you back on his lap again. This time you’re turned the way he can properly face you. Lando softly puts his finger underneath your chin and lifts your face up a bit. Then he presses his lips against yours. He kisses you the most loving way he can. 
When Lando puts his lips onto yours, you wonder if this means what you think it does. Is this Lando his way of showing you that he does like you back? 
You show Lando a small grin when he pulls back and looks at you. “I never want to be friends with you again,” Lando mutters with a cheeky smile. If he wasn’t smiling like crazy, you would have stressed right now. “I really need you to be my girlfriend babygirl,” Lando continues, “and I really need everyone to know that you’re mine so they will finally stop flirting with you.” 
“You want me to be your girlfriend?” You ask Lando with a happy expression. 
“I need you to be my girlfriend,” he states. 
“Okay boyfriend,” you reply. 
“But now I really want to feel your cunt around my dick again,” Lando tells you cheekily. You let out a soft laugh. You position yourself a bit different, then you line up Lando his boner with your entrance and slowly let him enter you again. 
+++
The following morning Lando patiently waits for you to wake up as well. He hasn’t slept as good as last night in a couple months. He feels ten times better then before. It’s mostly a relieved feeling now that the two of you finally confessed. When you open your eyes slowly, you notice that Lando is already awake and staring at you. 
“Good morning girlfriend,” Lando whispers when you look at him. 
You show him a small smile. “Good morning boyfriend,” you reply.
Lando presses a soft kiss against your lips. “I can get used to this,” he tells you. 
“You better do,” you laugh, “It’s not like I’m going to let go of you anytime soon.”
“I love you,” Lando sighs relieved. “Oh that’s probably a bit soon to say,” he adds quickly after realizing what he just said. 
“I love you too Lan,” you tell him, “and I think you could have said it way sooner.” 
Lando grins. He pulls you close towards himself and hugs you. “I could fall asleep all over again, but we have a flight to catch.”
Later that afternoon when the two of you are sitting in the plane, Lando has been quite busy on his phone. You look curious at him, wondering what he’s doing. Before you can ask him, Lando speaks up. “I’m going to hard launch us,” he states, “Okay?”.
“Okay.”
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a/n;
that was it everyoneee :') hope y'all liked this story
i do want to write further, but for this moment i have no inspiration about what i'm going to write now (expect that it's about lando ofc). so any idea is welcome ! thanks for all the likes, comments & reblogs
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592 notes · View notes
barcaatthemoon · 3 days
Text
the truth iii || leah williamson x reader ||
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your first time back in spain after joining arsenal.
this is the final part to the truth. hope that anybody who followed along, enjoyed themselves.
it felt like a dream to be a part of the champion's league again. at first, you had been over the moon about everything. that is until you got the courtesy text from the barcelona girls that jenni was coming to the games. you knew to partially expect that. she may have left, but she was still going to support her friends at barcelona.
"hey, we're about to land," leah said softly as she nudged you. the last that she had known, you were fast asleep against her shoulder. the flight wasn't a very long one, but you had been eager to catch up on some sleep. "are you ready?"
"as i'll ever be." leah frowned at your response. she had watched you freak out after the texts had come in. it wasn't enough for jenni to come to barcelona to watch the champion's league final, but she had also made alexia ask if you'd join them.
you knew that she had asked other girls first, but most of them had refused to talk to you on her behalf. ona had even gone as far as to block the older player for nearly three weeks. alexia was the only one who had told you that, mainly as a courtesy since laia had also been invited. she didn't want you to feel left out, even if she knew the last thing you wanted to do was go out for dinner with your ex.
"hey, everything will be fine love, i promise," leah said as she gave you a peck on the cheek. "i know that we haven't really said anything to anybody else, but my offer still stands if you want me to come."
"are you sure?" you asked her. leah nodded. she knew that you'd need support, something to make sure that you didn't go running back to jenni. your national team friends would be doing that as well, but having leah there would be grounding for you.
things with leah were nothing like they had been with jenni. leah was a great fit for you. sometimes she could be a little shaky with communication, but with some gentle pushing, she'd open right up for you. leah had helped you gain back a lot of the confidence that jenni had seemingly stolen away after the breakup. she made you feel safe in a way that you had never known before.
"i love you," leah muttered as she pressed a kiss to the back of your hand.
"i love you too," you told her. moments later, the plane landed and the two of you were shuffling off of it.
"and the traitor has arrived!" mapi shouted as you walked with laia and leah towards the table. you knew that she was joking, as she was the first of your old club teammates to run over to hug you. she wrapped her arms around you tightly, and it was only alexia and sandra's hugs that rivaled mapi's.
"i see that you brought someone with you," cata teased as she slung her arm over your shoulder. you glanced over towards leah, who was standing sort of awkwardly behind you. "care for proper introductions?"
"leah, these are our opponents. opponents, this is my girlfriend, leah," you said. actually saying the words made your chest swell with pride. leah stepped forward and took your hand as she waved with her other.
"when did this start?" alexia asked, motioning between the two of you. truthfully, you had fallen a bit out of contact with everybody back in spain. it was hard to keep up after having cut all contact in germany. laia would remind you about answering texts, but that was only because some of your less reserved teammates would pester her constantly.
"seven months," you answered confidently. "she is good to me, i love her."
"unfortunately that does not stop captain talks." alexia and irene both stood up, ushering leah out with them. you took a seat next to ona and lucy, who were trying to hold hands under the table discreetly. that left the seat next to keira open for leah to take whenever she came back.
"so, you and leah?" lucy asked. there was a small smile on her face, one that didn't completely hide her surprise. ona had mentioned that you were dating one of her english teammates, but lucy had assumed it was alessia. that had been originally who ona tried to set you up with at arsenal, but your chemistry with leah had been undeniable.
"it's good to see you happy," jenni said. everybody glared at her, as if she had no right to speak to you. you understood and appreciated their protectiveness, but it felt unneccessary. "i am glad that you are doing okay."
"thank you, jenni," you said. the reply felt forced. you could tell that she wanted to ask for a moment alone with you, but nobody else at the table would have let that happen. you were honestly shocked that sandra and cata hadn't tried to squeeze you in between them.
an awkward quiet washed over the table as your girlfriend returned with your captains. leah took the empty seat in between you and keira, who immediately started to interrogate leah about your relationship. you smiled listening to leah tell keira and the rest of the table stories about your first couple of dates and when she realized that she loved you.
it should have been perfect, but you couldn't stop the guilt that gnawed at you. jenni sat quietly towards the head of the table. she looked rough, worse than you could ever remember seeing her. even after everything that had happened during the world cup, she hadn't looked this bad. it seemed that jenni was finally coming to terms with the fact that you were really done with her.
you had once been so caught up in her that she didn't think it would ever be possible. somehow, you had moved away and moved on with someone else. jenni had to admit that leah really was perfect for you in all of the ways that she hadn't been. the two of you were different enough to work out well. you and jenni had been too similar, which was fun at first, but it quickly became a problem. jenni knew how to hurt you in ways that would never occur to leah.
"excuse me, i should head back to my hotel." jenni rose from the table without much fanfare. you watched her leave, itching to follow her out to talk to her. leah watched you carefully, unsure of what to do. it terrified her to let you go out there, but she knew that you needed to get some things off of your chest.
"go, talk to her. i'll be out to check on you in five," leah whispered in your ear. you hesitated but left when she gave you a small nod. everybody stared at leah like she had just grown a second head.
"you're a better woman than i am williamson," lucy said as she watched you walk out of the restaurant.
"she needs this, i have to let it happen. i have to trust that she'll come back to me." leah took some deep breaths to steady her nerves. she could go into the world's most important football game calm as ever, but this was making her heart pound in her chest.
"jenni, what happened? a year ago you were doing fine. what's changed?" you asked your ex. jenni had come outside and promptly sat down on the sidewalk. you stood behind her, unsure of how close to get. you didn't want to give her the wrong impression, knowing that she had been drinking a bit over dinner.
"you've got a girlfriend, and it looks serious. you moved on, and i'm still stuck here thinking about you constantly. every single day something reminds me of you, and it sets me back to square one. i've tried to find someone to settle down with because that's all i want, but i can't stand anybody for more than a few weeks because they're not you," jenni rambled. she looked up at you with tears in her eyes, ones that she had been waiting to shed until you were with her. she wanted you to dry her tears and tell her that you'd come back, but that was never going to happen.
"i am sorry that you are going through this, i am, but there is nothing i can do anymore. i have leah, and i love her more than i've ever loved anybody. we were good together, great sometimes, but it was always so physical. it wasn't easy, but i learned how to step away from that with leah. you need to find someone who doesn't just want to fuck you. find somebody to talk to," you told her.
"i don't want to talk to anybody, but you."
"we never did much talking jenni. it's not what you want to hear, but maybe you need to grow up. there's more to relationships than fucking, but i don't know if you're ready to accept that kind of truth." you had heard about her relationship with alexia, the last one that had really been serious from the sounds of it. "maybe i'm not the one you should be talking to."
"go back inside please," jenni grumbled. she sounded serious, far more serious than what you had ever heard before. you went back inside, catching leah as she made her way to come bring you in. the two of you sat down at the table together, leah integrating you into the bit of conversation she'd started with some of barcelona's defenders on who was the most frustrating striker they'd ever had to mark.
you hadn't done much defending in your career, especially not whenever your coaches had discovered your speed. they had quickly pushed you from the backline to the front lines. mapi and ona both complained directly about you, inciting the whole table to start telling leah all sorts of stories about you from your barcelona days. it was nice, and if you noticed alexia slip outside, you didn't mention it, even going as far as to distract everybody with a youth team story or two.
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Text
somewhere in the back of your mind, you know this isn’t how it should be. 
your living room is dimly lit, illuminated only by the tv in front of you, and the moon is glowing a pearlescent blue. flimsy strings of moonlight spill over your floorboards, reflecting off the windows, and whatever you’re doing isn’t what you should be doing. you shouldn’t be awake this late, shouldn’t be gorging on sweets before bed, shouldn’t be having a rendezvous with an enemy — shouldn’t be watching movies with your ex of ten years. 
most of all, you shouldn’t be feeling nearly this content.
getō is seated right beside you, legs comfortably spread, popping a macaron into his mouth. chewing it slowly, savouring the flavour — or lack thereof, you suppose. he can’t taste much, anymore; one too many curses digested. or so he says.
this time, he brought pastries with him. expensive ones, you can tell, just from the package alone; a soft pastel pink box, wrapped up in velvet and silk, golden letter etched into the front. mont blancs, macarons, two slices of strawberry shortcake. suited to your tastes.
(you aren’t actually too fond of sweets, anymore, but how is he to know? he hasn’t seen you in years.)
”would you like me to make us some tea?”
when you turn your gaze towards him, getō’s wearing a smile. laid-back, the slightest upward curl, tilting his head in a manner you’re far too used to. eyes shining with something keen. somehow, it feels difficult to tear your gaze away from his own.
but you manage, turning forward, grasping control over your sleepy vocal cords. ”no, i’m good.”
a low hum. he’s still looking at you. ”coffee?”
”the sweets are more than enough.”
this time, a smile, one you can’t see but still somehow sense. a little bit amused. geto gazes at you with a knowing look, watches you glance at the box of pastries on your coffee table — studying you under the monochrome flicker of the tv-screen. 
”understood,” he finally quips, leaning back into the leather couch, exhaling a little breath. ”eat as much as you’d like. i bought them for you, you know.”
you nod, nibbling at a macaron. not glancing his way.
being alone with him still feels a little awkward. a little tense, to be curled up on the same couch, watching the same movie, just like your old sleepovers in high school. there’s an elephant in the room that neither of you have addressed — not since he first showed up, just a couple weeks ago, waltzing up to your apartment with a plastic bag of dvds after a decade of estrangement. wearing heavy robes, and a familiar smile. asking to be let in.
and despite every single circumstance telling you not to, you did just that. you’ve yet to refuse. 
(satoru would hate you, if he knew.)
so he’s there, right beside you, and you don’t talk about it. not his choice, not your work, not anything except the movie playing on the screen in front of you. this time, it’s one he’s seen before; beautiful, he called it, and for once you think it might be a romance — if the kiss between the main actors is anything to go by. 
you wonder if that’s why he says it.
”say, do you hate me?”
it’s sudden, but not unexpected. he’s always been like this; breaking the illusion of peace before you can find any solace in it. 
you bite back a groan, and shoot him a glance out of the corner of your eye — but he isn’t looking at you. only at the tv, at the two men, holding hands and standing on a bridge in the rain, watching the stars twinkle in the sky. and you sigh, turning your head to look at him fully, parting your lips. your voice comes out frustrated. 
”do you really want to have this conversation now?”
”when else?” he chuckles, meeting your gaze with one brow raised. amber eyes gleaming with mirth, and something else, something less practiced. ”you don’t have to answer. i’m just curious.”
you gulp down the last of the macaron, licking your lips for any leftover crumbs — unaware of how his eyes follow the movement. ”are you?”
a hum buzzes in the back of his throat, a tiny rasp. you wonder if he’s tired. ”i hadn’t expected this, you know.” he taps at his knee with the pads of his fingers, rhythmic and controlled. ”i thought it was just wishful thinking… that you’d let me come this close.”
you feel his gaze on you. it’s heavy, heavy like lead, like a loaded gun. you feel it dissect you from afar, and can’t find it in you to reach for another pastry. 
”… would you have preferred being kicked out?”
”not at all.” a little grin plays at his lips, something in his voice betraying the face he’s making. ”are you avoiding the question?” 
another sigh. you’re painfully aware of how resigned it sounds, spilling out into the open air, already filling with a sense of dread; any leftover nostalgia bursting at the seams. you want to tell him so many things, but every thread inside your mind feels all tangled up.
and, as always, getō beats you to the punch. 
”that’s fine, too.” a brief pause, a twitch of his pinkie. he closes his eyes, a flutter of his lashes, and inhales a breath. ”— because i’ll keep waiting.”
for a second, you consider not taking the bait. 
… then you’re giving in. because that’s what you always do, whenever he’s involved. you watch him in the dark, pale skin enveloped by moonlight, raven hair spilling across the headrest. he looks beautiful, just resting his eyes.
”… for what?” you whisper, and his answer comes without a hitch to his breath.
”for you to love me again.”
getō tilts his head, opening his eyes, a golden brown dragging you into their depths. he looks expectant, selfishly awaiting a response, and you’re tired. 
(unbeknownst to you, he resists the urge to intertwine his fingers with yours, to trace every ridge and dip of your knuckles with his thumb. to squeeze your palm like a promise, something concrete.)
when your mind has managed to untangle itself, something in your gaze turns sharp. frustrated, impatient, disappointed, looking at him with a raised brow. ”you really are stupid, aren’t you?”
as fast as it came, your gaze returns to the screen in front of you. monochrome, flickering, two beautiful men. one of them is holding a gun to the other’s temple, and the victim looks appeased. the movie’s almost over.
(how very like him, to find such violence beautiful.)
quietly, you swallow down the bile building up in the back of your throat. a decade of bitter flavours. clenching your teeth, nails digging into the couch beneath you, leather on your cold fingertips. it’s a little peeled.
you wonder why you even bother being honest, when he never quite seems to return the favour.
but the room is dimly lit, and the moon is big and bright, and your ex of ten years is sitting right next to you. in your apartment, on your couch, watching a movie on your tv. when he could, should be anywhere else. he’s with you, and he pulls the words out of your throat without trying. puppeteering your heartbeat.
”… as if i ever stopped.”
silence.
you hear a gunshot ring out. low, muffled, a crackle of static. one of the men falls down to the ground, and you can’t tell who's who. the actors are forgettable, but the soundtrack is pretty. it rings in your ears like a lullaby. 
getō says your name.
it sounds the same as you remember. honeyed syllables, spilling from his parted lips, silky and sweet. he says your name like he’s asking to marry you, and you can hear the smile he’s struggling to repress.
”will you look at me?”
it’s less of a question, and more of a demand. you wonder why he even bothers asking — but you’ve never really understood the way his brain works. never understood why a burglar would bother asking the shopkeeper for permission before reaching for the register, when they’ll be leaving with the money either way. 
and you’re paralyzed, stuck in place on the couch, gaze glued to the screen in front of you. but you aren’t watching, not really, just looking. and you don’t want to see what kind of face he’s making. so you whisper;
”.. no.”
”no?” he mimics, something like a coo on the tip of his tongue, lightly amused. as always, you can feel his gaze, travelling down your face like a trickle of honey. ”and why is that, my dear?”
you bite down on your lip.
a long, long moment passes, and neither of you say a word. he’s looking at you, and you’re looking down at your lap, at your clenched fists. a little meek. it’s quiet, the calm before the storm, and you know exactly what’s going to happen — because it’s already set in stone.
”because you’re going to kiss me,” you exhale, finally, resignation on your breath. ”and i’m going to let you.”
for a second, you wonder if his silence means he understands. if he can hear the desperate plea in your voice, if he can translate it correctly. 
but his fingertips graze the lines of your jaw, his palm sneaks under your chin, and he keeps you in place. turning your head to meet his gaze, his amber eyes, dripping with something hungry; something pleading. 
this time, he doesn’t ask for permission. he leans forward until there’s no space between you, tips your head back, and kisses you with bated breath — as softly as he can manage, which is still too intense for your liking. still brimming with desperation, something carnal, like he wants to pour his everything into the kiss but knows he shouldn’t. he tastes like tobacco.
and it’s over. 
you know it is, because your senses are flooded with him, him, him. nothing but him, the strands of his raven hair ghosting your skin, his greedy tongue licking along your teeth, large palms resting on your spine and the back of your head. you’re pliant, surrendering yourself to his touch. he’s cradling you like he loves you, and you feel like you’ve done something awful, because you have.
because you’ve let him come so close, again, invited him inside — inside of your home, your ribcage. and he won’t bother making a home for himself there, because it’s already waiting for him, untouched, between your fourth and fifth ribs.
you never bothered to get rid of it.
(that’s your sin.)
getō hums, muffled by your lips. he sounds pleased. he sounds like he’s been waiting for this for decades, and you suppose that he has. he murmurs praise that you do nothing but swallow down.
everything feels too perfect, too normal, and it’s too much, too much, too much. your lips pressed together, your chests pressed together, your noses meeting in a tender touch. you choke down the noise that threatens to push past your lips, and he kisses you like a starved man. like he’s trying to drown in you.
he only pulls away once he realizes that you’re crying, and by then it’s too late. his widening eyes don’t matter, your cold hands don’t matter, the tremble of your erratic heartbeat has never mattered less. he looks at you with remorse, and it doesn’t matter. 
(he’s yours, again, and you’re his.
you can’t stop crying.)
”… i’m sorry.”
in the background, you hear the sound of gentle whispers, an ending scene. the men are talking to each other, speaking softly, and your eyes burn with tears. geto catches one of them with his forefinger, and leans forward to plant a kiss against your nose. chaste, this time. still mumbling apologies.
it doesn’t matter, because a tiny sob still breaks past your throat — and you know the sound must hurt him. 
you hate that. you hate that you always hurt him, hate that you care, hate that you feel nothing but guilt when he’s around. you hate the movie still playing to your left, hate that he doesn’t hate it, hate that he loves you. hate that you love him, that you probably always will.
you hate that you blink up at him with glassy eyes, swallow down a shaky breath, and kiss him again. hate that it’s still the only thing you know how to do well.
he doesn’t pull away, only biting back a noise of surprise — but he makes sure to kiss you gently, as if you’re made of porcelain, slow and tender, cradling you closer still. he wipes away your tears with his thumb, one after another, and you hate yourself because everything feels so deliriously right.
somewhere in the back of your mind, you know that what you’re playing is a losing game. 
(he’s yours, and you’re his. it’s already set in stone.) 
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forever-rogue · 1 day
Note
let me just say i am obsessed with your work and i have a small concept with pre-outbreak!joel that i’d like to share. you’re welcome to develop this as a full fic, a headcanon or even just discuss it.
joel has been dating you for a while, it’s his first serious relationship since sarah’s mom left and needless to say he’s very much in love. but being with you comes with a lot of pressure. as i said, it’s his first real relationship and he tries to be the absolute best partner for you. in the beginning you don’t pay attention to it because what you have is new and of course you do a lot to make it work but as time passes, you realize it’s a bit more serious than that.
he literally drives himself crazy trying to be the perfect partner. to the point where he’s stressing himself out or feeling guilty about things that are either normal or out of his control. for example, let’s say it’s your birthday and he wants to take you to a nice restaurant. you happen to be late (maybe an issue with his car or traffic) and lose the reservation. it’s okay, you assure him it’s fine but he feels terrible and just trying to fix it. in a similar way, if you ever have an argument and you decide to leave to clear your mind, it will bring the worst anxiety out of him. it’s all small things that pile up until you realize that he’s actually terrified he isn’t enough because if he wasn’t enough to make the mother of their child stay, why would you?
you can choose how you work it out so he feels more secure in the relationship or tell me what you think of this, i’d love to hear your opinion 🙂
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AN | Okay but this is so soft and heartbreaking at the same time. But there is a happy ending! Enjoy ❤️
Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language
Word Count | 2.7k
Masterlist | Joel, Main
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Joel was standing on your doorstep, clutching a bouquet in his hand. He felt like he was shaking and sweating and going to throw up all at once. Needless to say he was nervous. It had been so long since he’d been on a date, let alone a first date. And not just any first date, but a first date with you. 
You, that had almost knocked him over, literally and metaphorically, in the grocery store and left him feeling like a scared teenager. You’d been the one to ask him out, in fact, but he was still somehow convinced that you’d made some kind of mistake or were going to change your mind.
He rocked back and forth on his heels for a few moments as he listened for your footsteps. When he heard you unlock the door and slowly open it, his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. 
“Joel,” your pretty lips pulled in a big smile as you looked him over, “you’re here!”
“Of course I am,” he replied sweetly, a soft twang to his warm drawl, “did you think I wouldn’t show up?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted sheepishly, your face growing warm, “men are weird sometimes…even more so when it’s a woman asking a man out. But I’m so glad you’re here.”
“You look beautiful,” he couldn’t believe how lucky he’d gotten or how pretty you were. You were wearing a pretty little sundress and that alone was enough to cause his mind to practically spiral; he was just a mere mortal man and even he was not immune to the effect of a sundress. He pulled himself together to hand you the flowers that were still tightly clutched in his hand, “these are for you.”
“They’re lovely,” you took them gently, your fingers brushing against his, “thank you so much. No one’s given me flowers in so long, this is so kind.”
“They reminded me of you, bright and pretty,” maybe he wasn’t totally terrible at this after all.
“Come on in for a moment while I put these in some water,” you moved back inside and motioned for him to follow you. He slowly followed you inside, looking around your humble abode to try and get a good feel for you, “so, have you decided what we’re going to do this evening?”
“I have a few things in mind,” he grinned, a little half smile that made your heart speed up a little bit as you quickly moved to set the flowers into a vase with fresh water, “I can tell you or you can be surprised.”
“Surprise me,” you set the flowers on the counter and looked at him sweetly.
“Surprise it is.”
“I have a feeling you’re going to surprise me a lot, Joel Miller,” you grabbed your purse and he shot you a cheeky little wink, “I look forward to it.”
“Me too, sweetheart, me too.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Joel Miller couldn’t believe his luck. It had been a year, a whole ass year, since the two of you had gone on your first date. That might have been one of the best days of his life, topped only by the birth of his daughter. He knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, and knew that he wanted to ask you to marry him.
But there was still some remaining doubt that kept nagging at the back of his mind.
A part of him was always waiting for you to realize that he didn’t deserve you and to leave. Not that you’d done anything to ever suggest that was going to happen but still. He thought about it…a lot. He’d felt like a complete failure when his wife had left him and their daughter when she was only a few months old without so much as a proper explanation. If the woman he’d loved and married, the mother of his daughter, didn't want anything to do with him, why would anyone else? And what did he have to offer anyway? Nothing. Not in his mind anyway. 
And he loved you, so much. He would do anything to keep you in his life. So he threw himself into everything he did; he wanted to make sure everything was perfect for you, even if it all but killed him. 
You appreciated everything he did for you, so much and all the things he did were definitely not lost on you. At first it didn’t really hit you just how much he was driven to perfection until you started to see some of the cracks in the facade. 
It happened one night when you were over at Joel’s house for dinner with him, Sarah, and Tommy that you noticed something was off. Joel had seemed so tense and distracted since you’d arrived. You’d made it to the Miller household a little earlier than you had initially told them in order to help finish up dinner and get everything set up. 
Sarah had answered the door and let you in with a big hug before you made your way into the kitchen. You adored the girl, and her father, and you were happy that she seemed to like you too. You weren’t trying to force your way into her life, but let her welcome you at her own pace. It had only been her and Joel for pretty much her entire life so you were sure that this was a whole new world for her too. 
“Hi baby,” you grinned as you walked into the kitchen, setting down the desserts you’d brought. Joel turned around and his entire face dropped when he realized it was you. Ouch. That managed to sting a little bit, “everything alright?”
“You’re not supposed to be here,” he looked at his watch and ran a hand through his messy hair, “for almost another hour!”
“I finished earlier than I thought at work,” you shrugged lightly, “and thought I’d come over to help. I didn’t think it was a big deal…I can go if that’s better?”
“No - no,” he insisted softly, “no, I’m glad you’re here, it’s just that nothing’s ready. It’s not set for you yet.”
“You don’t have to do all the work silly man,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, “let me help. I’m more than happy to - I want to.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” you whispered as you decided to hug him; he looked like he could use a hug. He wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly to his broad frame, “just let me know what I can do to help, okay?”
“Okay,” he agreed, allowing himself a moment to bury his face in your neck and to breathe your warm scent in. When he pulled back, you kissed him sweetly, “okay.”
Once you had everything squared away and ready, Joel ran upstairs to shower and change, leaving you and Sarah to set the table. She looked at you for a moment before quietly saying, “he really likes you, you know?”
“I do,” you smiled softly, “I really like him too.” 
“He’s never been with anyone since I was born,” she scooted over to you so there wasn’t a chance for Joel to overhear, “I don’t even remember my mom; she just up and left when I was a baby. But I’ve always had my dad. And it’s nice to see him happy ‘cause he deserves it.”
“Oh,” your expression softened, “he told me it’s been the two of you but never went into what happened.”
“Yeah,” she shrugged, “it’s fine. I never had the chance to know my mom so it never really bothered me. But I know my dad really likes you, he’s been so happy lately it’s kinda gross. He’s trying really hard. He just wants you to be happy too.”
“I am really happy, Sarah,” you promised, “and I want your dad to be as well. I love him a lot and you both mean a lot to me.”
“This is too sappy,” she snorted in amusement and rolled her eyes playfully, “but…you mean a lot to me too. Just so you know.”
“Don’t worry kiddo, we’ll keep it between us,” you shot her a wink, causing her to giggle softly, “you mean a lot to me too.”
“What are you whispering about, huh?” Joel came back downstairs and into the kitchen, his eyes flitting between the two of you, “planning a mutiny?”
“Duh, old man,” Sarah pushed past him, and Joel raised an eyebrow. 
He was just joking around, mostly, but he was also panicking internally - just mildly but still. It was there. His first thought was that somehow the two of you were talking about him…but not in a flattering way. What if you were telling Sarah you were tired of him? What if you were telling her that you were planning on breaking up with him? What if you told her that -
“Joel?” you put your hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. He blinked a few times as he snapped back into reality before looking at you, “where’d you go, space cadet?”
“Just zoned out,” he offered you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” you insisted, “it’s been a long day, I’m sure tired as well. We’ll call it an early night tonight, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, heart constricting at your gentle nature. You were always so sweet and kind but he still found himself waiting for the other shoe to drop, “sounds good, sweetheart.”
“I love you,” you reached for his hand and squeezed it, “a lot.”
“I love you too,” he hoped you never stopped saying that. He wanted to hear it for the rest of his life. He was going to try his damndest to keep you in his life forever. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“I can’t believe it,” Joel shook his head as he looked at the maitre’d, “it’s only fifteen minutes! You can’t tell me that you don’t have a table available anymore.”
“I’m sorry sir, the reservation was for 6:30 and we have a ten minute policy for being tardy,” he remained calm but you could see that Joel was only growing more annoyed, “as you can see we’re very busy.”
“I made these reservations three months ago-”
“I’m sorry, sir. That’s our policy,” you put your hand on Joel’s arm and squeezed it gently. He looked at you with a deep frown on his face. 
“It’s alright,” you promised him, voice gentle and soft, “we can go somewhere else, it’s no big deal.”
“Fine,” he huffed after a moment and turned on his heel to leave. You offered the man a small smile as you followed your boyfriend out the door. He immediately started walking to the truck, leaving you to trail after him in his wake, “this is fucking ridiculous.”
You flinched as he slammed his door against the side of the truck, “Joel. I need you to calm down. It’s really not a big deal - I don’t care where we go, I just want to spend time with you.”
“But it’s your birthday,” he hissed, “it should be nice. I had this all planned out and I fucked up and made us lose the reservation.”
“Hey,” you slowly took a step closer to him, “do you want to tell me what’s really going on?”
“I just wanted everything to be perfect for you,” his shoulders slumped as he looked at you with misty eyes. Clearly there was a lot more going on underneath the surface, “I don’t want you to leave me.”
“W-what?” you looked at him in confusion, wondering where that train of thought had suddenly come from. You reached up and out your hand on his cheek, gently brushing away the tears that had rolled down his cheeks, “why on earth would I leave you? That has never crossed my mind.”
“I want to give you everything, you deserve it but I feel like I can’t give it to you,” he pressed his hand gently onto yours, “sometimes I wonder why you’re with a loser like me.”
“Joel,” he hated, and loved, how gently you always managed to say his name. You always had such a tender way about you, “I have never once thought you were a loser. Never. I love you, silly man, so much. You’re perfect to me - for me. Why would you even think that I would feel like that?”
“I couldn’t even get the mother of my kid to hang around. She up and left and sent divorce papers and left us,” he sighed softly, “sometimes I wonder how long it’ll be before you get tired of me as well.”
“I’m not her. I’m me,” you reminded him gently, “I’m never going to get tired of you. Oh my gosh, you don’t know how much I adore you, do you? Joel, no one has ever been as good and kind to me as you have. I look forward to spending time with you even if its just at home watching a movie. When we’re apart I look forward to seeing you. Not because of things like fancy dinners or grand gestures or whatever - not that I don’t love those - but because I love being around you. It’s because of you, not anything else. We could have nothing but as long I have you, and Sarah, it’s more than enough. It’s everything.”
Joel looked at you, trying to make sure he’d heard everything you’d said correctly and you weren’t about to laugh at him. When he saw the soft smile on your face, the tender way you were looking at him, he knew that you weren’t joking. He nodded slowly, sniffling before whispering, “I love you.”
“I know you do,” you promised, “you’ve never once given me a reason to doubt that. I love you too, Joel.”
“I know,” he reached for your hand, hesitantly and gently, lacing his fingers through yours, “you’ve never given me a reason to doubt that either.”
“Good,” you squeezed his hand gently, “I think we’re on the same page, right?”
“Yeah,” he agreed quietly, “we are.”
“If you ever have any doubt, just let me know and I’ll remind you just how much I love you. But…does that mean we can go and get dinner? Some McDonalds fries sound amazing right now.”
“You want to go to McDonalds? On your birthday?” That was one of the many things he loved about you - you weren’t pretentious or picky or anything. You were just you. 
“Are you going to go with me?”
“Obviously,” he snorted in amusement, shaking his head fondly at you. 
“Then hell yeah,” you teased, “let’s go and get tons of McDonalds and go home and watch a movie. That sounds perfect.”
“Then that’s exactly what we’ll do,” he agreed as he opened the car door for you. He buckled your seatbelt for you before leaning in to kiss you gently, “happy birthday baby.”
“Thank you,” you made sure to steal another kiss from him, “I love you, Joel Miller.”
“I love you. So much.”
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bitchinbarzal · 3 days
Text
Blue, White & Orange | M Barzal
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part two of thirteen
You’d called and text multiple times but mat hadn’t even acknowledged your existence since you got out of his car.
You watched the games, wearing the right jersey this time.
Your heart still clenched everytime he was interviewed by her, the jealousy in your stomach wouldn’t go away.
You were hurting without him but hurting more knowing how you’d made him feel. You didn’t want to lose Mat but you couldn’t see him coming back.
Mat on the other hand was so focused on the game. They were leading to playoffs and he couldn’t let this get to him no matter how hurt he was.
He’d seen your calls and texts but he knew it was best to steer clear or he’d say something he regretted, losing you was a guarantee then.
He was hurt, but he loved you.
They clinched. He knew you watched when he saw the orange heart text pop up on his phone.
They were to face the Rangers in round one and Mat wasn’t happy about it. He couldn’t see that jersey without wanting to be sick, his emotions from that night bubbling to the top again.
When playoffs roled around Sydney wasn’t sure where you stood with Mat and was warned not to ask him so she called you.
“Playoff jacket?”
“Syd…” you sighed
“C’mon! You’re still together right?”
“I don’t- I don’t know”
“Nobody else should be wearing his name on their back it’s yours!”
You couldn’t argue with her, she was persistent so you accepted. Still unsure you’d actually be there for the game.
She showed you the finished jacket over FaceTime, his name and number sparkled on the back.
“You’re gonna look amazing! I’ll take it to the rink and you can get it there”
Game one rolled around and you didn’t go, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.
Mat still wasn’t talking to you and you were breaking your own heart thinking about it.
Mat had contempt texting you, asking if you’d be there but he couldn’t do it. He did ask Sydney to get you tickets, to make sure there was space in the family box for you.
You didn’t show up. Not game one, two, three or four where they swept the rangers. You weren’t there.
He looked for you in the stands everytime but he couldn’t see you.
The jacket Syd had made lay over the back of a chair downstairs haunting him everytime he passed it.
When they won everyone decided to go to the bar, they had to celebrate. Mat just wanted to see you. He was tired of not having you here, he needed you.
So he grabbed the jacket and headed for his car only to be accosted by his teammates to join them at the bar. He agreed, one drink.
One drink and then he was going to be knocking your door and winning you back.
You watched the game, sitting in your islanders #13 jersey. You were so proud of him.
Syd text you a picture of him at the bar holding your jacket
‘Come get your man girl… the tension is killing me 😩
So you did, you were going to go get him. Tell him you were sorry and that you made a mistake.
You were still in your jersey walking into the bar, practicing what you were going to say to him under your breath.
Your eyes darted around the bar looking for him, feeling a little insecure in your appearance and attire in that moment.
When the crowd separated you saw him, a smile instantly slapped onto your face only to drop when you saw her standing wearing your jacket.
You watched Mat laughing at something Anders said before he saw you, followed your eyes to her jacket and immediately dropped his beer to the table “No, no, it’s not-“
You stood defeated in the middle of the bar, the sleeves too long on your jersey scrunched in your hands and tears lined your eyes.
“Nothing to worry about, huh?”
Mat was infront of you now “It’s not hers-“
“No Mat, it’s mine and you gave her it! She’s literally wearing you- know what? I can’t do this” you stated, pulling off the jersey you had on and throwing it to the floor before walking out.
He followed you, begging you to listen “Baby please-“
“Don’t!” You screamed in the street “Don’t call me that- you got what you wanted Mathew, you got your revenge well done” and walked off leaving him speechless.
When he walked back into the bar all he could see was his name on the jersey laying on the floor being trampled over, feeling a lot like his heart.
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Text
but daddy i love him! // theodore nott x fem granger reader
playlist : but daddy i love him - taylor swift
summary : being hermiones slightly younger , less intelligant and more reblellious sister, it is your duty to have a boyfriend no one approves of to match.
y/n used , gryffindor granger reader , swearing
masterlist
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"merlin hes so hot" you whined with you head in your hand , staring across the hall at theodore nott.
hermione shuddered in disgust , "yeah and hes a terrible person."
"mione hes really not , just because hes slytherin doesnt mean hes some kind of horrific monster," you rolled your eyes , finally looking away from theodore and looking at hermione across from you.
"dont mix your delusion with reality y/n. him and his friends have bullied us since first year," hermione snapped back.
"whos us? ive never been teased by him before but stay safe i guess," you argued , getting more annoyed by the second.
"you cant be with him y/n , not only does he not do relationships , clearly , hes not good for you!"
"oh but daddy i love him!" you said in a mocking childish tone.
"did you just call hermione daddy?" ron cringed inbetween his quick eating.
"its a little mermaid reference ronald." you said sternly , judging the boys messy consumption of the food on his full plate.
"whats a little mermaid reference?" he mocked.
you, hermione and harry all looked at him with pure shock , forgetting ron wasnt really accustomed to muggle films , "please educate your man mione."
she gasped in pure horror as ron pretened to gag , they both argued over eachother throwing loud defenses and digs at eachother.
"look! i would actually rather die than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning!!" you shouted over them , silencing their arguing as harry nodded along with your statement.
"y/n i dont mean to stir the pot but i dont really think nott is a great partner either," ron said with disgust.
"thanks for that ron! wanna add your two cents harry? seems like everyone cares who i have silly crushes on nowadays!" you fumed , turning to the twins who sat on the table besides you , "good morning george , fred, would you like to give your opinion on theodore nott?"
"hate him," fred stated plainly.
"i always target him in quidditch," george quickly followed with a shrug as you let out a defeated groan.
you turned back to the trio , crossing your arms in anger , "im going to go see ginny , see what she thinks of all this , she always supports me unlike you little goblins!"
"yeah cause ginny has a crush on basically every guy," ron scoffed.
"atleast ginny can admit when she has feeling for someone and doesnt pine on her best friend for years! atleast she isnt in denail!" you said smugly as hermione and ron squirmed in discomfort , blushing.
you abruptly stood up from the table , beginning to stomp away when harry shouted after you , "have a great day mrs nott!"
you turned to look at him , flipping him off before shouting back , "aw you too mr weasley!".
harry blushed as ron looked between the two of you , "shes insane , calling you weasley , what weasley could you possibly marry!"
ron scoffed and continued eating his food as harry scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and exchanged a look with hermione.
---
you now found yourself storming the corridors , looking for ginny when someone fell into step besides you , their deep voice making you shudder.
"hello mrs nott."
you stopped in you tracks and looked besides you in horror , theodore smirked down at you.
"erm hi," you mumbled quietly , face deep red in embarrassment. how could you forget the whole time that theodore had been sat with his friends on the table across from you?!
"dont go all shy on me now , i liked how you defended me." he smirked.
"i was really just joking dont get excited ," you teased , finally shaking your shyness.
"didnt sound like a joke to me? you got really worked up granger," he still held his smug expression , eyes peircing yours even when you didnt look back.
"look nott , i just like picking fights with them its funny to tease them." you shrugged continuing your walk as theodore followed still looking at you the whole time.
"go out with me," he said sternly as you paused again.
"are you being serious?" you said trying to seem not as interested as you truly were.
he grabbed your hand and pulled you to the empty classroom besides you , pushing you against the door to shut it.
he put one hand beside your head on the door and the other playing with your hair and grazing your cheekbone , "dead serious."
you looked at him , finally silent for the first time in your life , your silence allowing him to continue , "you can say you dont like me all you want. that its jokes , that its just to get a reaction. but i think we both know its more than that."
"im not gonna be one of your girls nott , im not like that. sure i have a different type to my sister but that doesnt mean i go for fucking man whores who just wanna get me in their bed."
"ouch , your words hurt me, bella. ive never touched a single girl asides from you. ive waited for you." he said softly.
"basically every person in this school says otherwise nott."
his hand that was resting on the door cleched into a first tightly , "stop calling me nott. its theo to you."
"why do you care?" you asked as his frustration grew.
he stared at you now with cold eyes , danger in them like he was staring at his prey. you simply looked back , folding you arms and watching as his eyes flicked down your face.
"dont play hard to get. you practically announced your love for me a second ago y/n." he mumbled.
"sure. ill go out with you, charity work." you joked as he finally dropped his anger and laughed.
"i like it by the way," he said looking up with a smirk as you stared back with confusion , " 'mrs nott,' it suits you."
"hm i dont know. ive always been kinda progressive , mr granger," you smirked before pushing him away with one hand and walking out of the classroom, leaving him to stare at your figure.
the second you found ginny you practically screamed in her face with excitement , "ginnny you will not BELIEVE IT!!"
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fungal-rot · 1 day
Text
Daddy’s Girl
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summary: this is actually a part two of Sweet, Domestic Life. i’m glad y’all thought it was cute bc i love joel having a happy life and being a family man (but tbf idk if i like this or not) also i’ve been reading writing tips and whatnot and even had a friend go over this for me (she helped so much) !! i hope you can notice a (good) difference shskdhakal
warnings: your child is a menace (affectionate), f!reader, reader is referred to as mama, the daughter is nicknamed ‘Bug’, so sweet it’ll rot your teeth, i also don’t know how to properly write toddlers lol
w.c.: 1k
⁺˚°。⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆。°˚⁺
    A soft, content sigh escaped your lips as you sat on the bed, crossing your legs as you neatly folded laundry and separated each article of clothing into its own pile. Joel was not as contented; he chased your little girl up and down the hall, her high-pitched squealing bouncing off the walls as she scuttled away, and he followed in hot pursuit with heavy feet that thundered after her with every laugh and giggle.
You heard Joel ask with an accusing tone, "What do you have in your hand?" Your ears perked up, and as soon as you lifted your head, you saw your three-year-old come barreling in. With a wide, shit-eating grin plastered on her face, making her cheeks appear rounder, she held her closed fist out in front of her.
"Mama!" She hollered and rushed to the edge of the bed, her free hand gripping and fisting at the bed sheets as she clambered up the mattress and placed a tiny foot against the frame of the bed to hoist herself up, trying her best to reach you.
"Bug!" You exclaimed with a dramatic widening of your eyes, dropping the shirt you held, and raising your arms slightly before grabbing her and settling her onto your lap. Joel joined next and propped an arm against the door frame as his chest heaved from the chase he had just endured. His brows bunched together, but a playful smile stretched his lips, clearly thrilled to be a part of the game.
"Nuh-uh," he said with a shake of his head and walked forward, "Mama can't help ya." Then he reached for the toddler once again.
Your eyes narrowed as you were about to argue but stopped short as Bug screeched in your ear. The sudden noise made you recoil with a wince. Your neck craned to the side, and you arched your brows while you blinked rapidly and waited for her to simmer down.
After a minute, you tilted your head to look down at her, "You done?" You ask softly and tuck a wavy strand of hair behind her ear.
Her head bobbled in response, "Yeah," she sucked in her lips and shifted in your lap, grabbing onto the collar of your shirt to balance herself.
You nod back and carefully remove her hand from the shirt, preventing her from possibly tugging the collar too low. "Okay," you whisper, then turning back to Joel. You resume your theatrical act, cradling your daughter's head to your shoulder protectively as you give him a mock pout.
"Not so fast, Miller," you say dramatically, "You bein' mean to my girl?"
The little girl had her hands tucked under her chin as she peeked at Joel with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Your husband noticed this, of course, and shot her a lighthearted glare.
"If anything, she's the mean one," he retaliated with a vague gesture of his hand and moved to lay down beside the two of you. "Makin' an old man with a bad back and bad knees run around like that." He added, followed by a soft exhale as he brought his hands to his stomach and clasped them together.
You snorted faintly and observed him with mild amusement as he got comfortable. You then avert your gaze to the fidgeting child in your lap. "I heard Daddy ask what you got in your hand," you tell her, tilting your head curiously. "Wanna show me what it is?"
Her nose scrunched as she bared her teeth in a goofy grin and brought her hands from under her chin, splaying them open to reveal-
"Nothing?" Your head reeled back with a laugh. Ah, of course. She was getting her father riled up for the sake of it, truly a chip off the old block.
Joel chuckled under his breath, bringing a hand from his torso to rub tiredly at his face.
"Glad I've got my girls ta keep me on my toes." He mumbled, voice barely above a whisper as he opened his eyes again and glanced between you. Your daughter wormed free from your hold and crawled onto Joel's lap, her little hands splayed across his chest as she gazed down at him.
" 'S'a joke, Daddy." She explained, her shoulders bobbing up and down with a happy lilt in her voice. "Bellie told me." Ah, that would explain it. Joel couldn't deny that Ellie's favorite pastime seemed to be finding ways to get under his skin, and now that had also expanded to his other daughter.
" 'Course she did," Joel replied, flicking his gaze to you, his expression mostly neutral with a faint look of amusement. You noticed your daughter's lip slightly parted with a soft yawn, and her eyes dropped ever so slightly, which signaled the two of you that she was starting to get sleepy.
"Yeah, bein' a li'l menace is tirin' ain't it, Bug?" Joel cooed playfully and touched her back, gently lowering her to lay against his chest.
You watched the interaction fondly and felt your heart flutter.
You couldn’t deny it; your daughter was a daddy's girl through and through, always seeking out the time she could spend with him, running to him with open arms when he came home after patrol, and always being under his feet, which he would always welcome with equal enthusiasm.
You finished folding the rest of the laundry and gathered each pile, placing them in their respective spots within the dresser. As you worked, you listened as Joel quietly sang, "Bye, Baby Buntin," his words slowly trailing off as he did. You turned back to see the pair fast asleep, the two embracing each other.
A warm feeling rushed through your body, and you silently padded over to the bed, reaching for the comforter folded at the end and throwing it open. You placed it over the pair and gently kissed each of their foreheads before turning off the lamp, then snuggled in next to them and closed your eyes, savoring this moment of peace and contentment.
⁺˚°。⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆。°˚⁺
sorry it’s so short ahh !! i just wanted to write something real quickie. thank you for reading and comments/reblogs are always appreciated <33
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seoltzuki · 2 days
Text
Later
mina x gn reader
fluff, suggestive sorta, not proofread
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Entering the suite, your hands brim with bouquets for Mina, the vibrant petals of orange, pink, and white nearly obscuring your view. Carefully, you navigate through the room, finding a spot on the antique vanity to set them down.
In the bustling scene of stylists, makeup artists, and assistants, everyone exudes a sense of fatigue yet they’re still committed. Glancing around, you search for Mina, as you overhear praises from her manager. Following the voice, you maneuver around the cables from the ring lights, making your way to the balcony, anticipation building with each step.
You reach the door and there she is, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. God, she’s so beautiful. Despite the casual luxury of her attire her relaxed demeanor contrasts with the elegance of her surroundings.
Leaning against the concrete railing of the balcony, her hair dances around her face, framing it like a halo, her eyes sparkling.
She strikes another pose, effortlessly shifting her stance as you lean against the door frame, completely in awe by her presence.
A graceful swipe of her hair to the side, and then she sees you. In an instant, her serious model demeanor fades, replaced by a gummy smile that lights up her face as she catches sight of you.
Another picture is snapped, capturing Mina’s radiant smile as she poses effortlessly. The manager excuses themselves, disappearing back inside, likely to discuss the schedule with the rest of the staff.
“Hey,” she sighs softly, pulling a hand out to reach for you. You walk up and gently take her hand in yours, answering back with a simple, “Hey.”
You both gaze at each other, small smiles playing on your lips, each showing a hint of shyness. Despite the passing years, you both still can't help but feel a rush of giddiness whenever you're together.
"How was the photoshoot?" you ask, but then you can't help but add, "You look breathtaking, have I told you?"
She giggles and squeezes your hand. "Yes, you did," she replies with a playful smile, "and it went well." She then looks down at her outfit and asks, "Do you like my clothes?"
You look down at her plain t-shirt, then her jeans, and suddenly, your gaze lingers a little longer. God… the way the Fendi undergarments peek over the waistband of her jeans and the tantalizing bit of skin showing in between… Gosh, what you’d do to bite that skin there—
“You’re staring, y/n,” Mina interrupts, her voice pulling you back to reality. She stretches back a bit, giving you a better view, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
You clear your throat, feeling a bit flustered by being caught, and quickly regain your composure. “Sorry,” you say with a chuckle, “I got lost in thought for a moment. But yes, I do like your clothes. They always leave a lasting impression.”
Mina raises an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eyes. “Oh? And what kind of impression are they leaving on you?” she asks with a smirk, leaning in closer.
Your cheeks flush as her proximity sends a flutter through your stomach. "Well," you start, your voice dropping to a husky tone, but then you can't help but tease back, "that's actually rich coming from you, Miss I have a staring problem."
As you tease Mina about her staring tendencies, a playful glint intensifies in her eyes. She leans in even closer, her breath warm against your skin, and murmurs, “Well, maybe I can’t help staring when I’m looking at something so irresistible.”
Your heart skips a beat at her words, and before you can reply, she closes the distance between you, capturing your lips in a soft, teasing kiss. It’s brief but electrifying, sending a surge of desire coursing through you.
You pull back slightly, a smirk playing on your lips. “Careful now,” you whisper, your voice laced with mock warning. “We don’t want to give the whole staff a show.”
Mina chuckles, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “Who says I mind putting on a show?” she retorts, her fingers tracing playful patterns on your arm.
Despite the temptation, she knows you’re right. With the entire staff bustling about inside, it wouldn’t be appropriate to take things any further. But the tantalizing promise of what could be hangs in the air between you.
Reluctantly, you pull away, but not before pressing a lingering kiss to Mina’s cheek. “Later,” you murmur, your voice low and husky with anticipation.
She smiles, her own lips tingling from the kiss. “Definitely later,” she agrees, her eyes alight with promise.
She then kisses your jaw, a soft smile gracing her lips, her shy demeanor returning. You can’t help but be drawn to her sweetness as you pull her along with you, leaving the balcony behind.
“I ordered fries, by the way,” you grin, your hand lingering on the mesmerizing hint of skin you so badly want to bite.
“Did you bring the ketchup?”
“Of course, my love,” you reply, a cheeky twinkle in your eye as you dig into your pocket, pulling out a small ketchup pouch. You hand it to her with a playful wink.
One last longing glance is shared and you both warily return to the bustling suite, the memory of your stolen moment on the balcony lingering in the air like a sweet secret.
Later.
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dearaceofhearts · 19 hours
Text
you walk out after an argument
characters: husk, alastor, angel dust, vox, lucifer word count: 2.9k genre: angst to fluff summary: after an argument with them, you walk out and don't come back for a few days. how do they react? author's note: hello yes this is my first time actually posting something. erm, i think i wrote too much (sorry) but hey we roll with it!! also dude i accidentally posted this before it was ready twice and i had a heart attack oh my god. also also i don't think vox's is really fluff (oops) but everyone else's is
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♡ husk
when you slam the door shut on your way out, husk lets out a low grumble, setting down the glass he was cleaning onto the bar counter with a quiet sigh. it was one of the first arguments you'd had in a long time. although he wasn't usually one to get riled up so easily, the two of you knew each other well enough to know just what buttons to push to get under the other's skin. that, alongside him already having a bad day, had been a recipe for disaster.
in the few days that pass by, it's hard to tell just how affected he is by your absence since he does a pretty good job of keeping a cool facade. to anyone looking, he wouldn't appear any different than usual, just idly cleaning bottles as he always does.
but it's the small things that give away just how much husk cares and worries for you, like how his eyes flicker towards the door whenever someone comes in, his ears perking up slightly. he hates the twinge of disappointment that follows when it's not you, a slight scowl curling at his lips as he takes a swig of alcohol from one of the many bottles on the shelves of the bar. he misses talking to you. you're his favourite drinking buddy, after all.
his gaze always seems to wander back to the front door of the hotel, lingering for just a little too long before he eventually turns back to the bar, expression settling back into its usual grouchiness. but underneath that lies a hint of worry that gnaws at him in the back of his mind, even though he knows you're more than capable of handling yourself. at the end of the day, you can never be too careful in hell.
husk won't force you to come back, but he just wants to know that you're safe and sound. he trusts that you'll come back when you're ready so that the two of you can talk it over and hopefully resolve things. he doesn't want to leave it like this, and he's sure you don't either. you mean a lot more to him than he'd like to admit.
when you decide to finally return to the hotel, he pauses upon catching sight of you stepping through the doorway. he can't help the small wave of relief that washes over him, though you wouldn't be able to tell by the way he smoothly resumes restocking the bar. when you approach the counter, he looks up, giving you a short nod. "hey." he greets you, tone surprisingly softer than you're used to, "you're back."
husk's not really the type to beat around the bush, so he'd likely address the argument pretty quickly. he's also not particularly one for verbal apologies, so he'd probably be more willing to show it through his actions. you see it in the way he lets you cling to him a little longer than he normally does, leaning into him as he wordlessly holds you, his tail loosely curling around your leg. if you listen closely, you can hear some faint purring, too. it makes you smile slightly.
"alright, 'nuff of this sappy stuff." husk grumbles after a few more moments, patting your back gently before pulling back. "i'd kill for a drink right now. care to join me?" he raises a brow, a familiar glint in his eyes as he slides back behind the counter, already moving to make what he knows is your favourite drink.
you grin as you meet his eyes, expression softening. "of course. i'd love nothing more."
♡ alastor
"you're not listening, al." you murmur, exhaling quietly. this makes him pause for a moment, head tilted. your voice sounds different to what he's used to — you're not even angry, no — you just sound... tired. the argument had been going on for a while, and neither of you were getting through to the other.
when you move to leave, he makes no move to stop you, simply watching you with an intent gaze. his voice rings out clear as day in the empty silence. "where do you think you're going, my dear?"
he falters ever so slightly when you turn back to face him with a sturdy, stern gaze, responding with a flatly spoken "out", leaving no room for anything more to be said before closing the door behind you with a quiet click.
alastor won't chase after you, because he expects that you'll come back to him of your own accord. to him, it's basically guaranteed how this'll play out. he's used to demons falling right into his hands without having to exert much effort on his end, and believes that this would be no different.
so when a few days pass by with you not approaching him at all, he finds himself slightly irritated and mildly perplexed, eyes narrowed as his clawed finger taps against his cane with idle impatience. why haven't you sought him out yet?
he's seen you around the hotel, but you've never once acknowledged his presence even if the two of you were in the same room, breezing past him while he's left staring, watching you converse with everyone except him. his eye twitches in irritation, the perpetual smile on his lips strained.
...eventually, after playing a long waiting game to no avail, he decides that perhaps rosie would be able to offer some helpful advice on how to approach this situation, since he's not used to actually handling delicate emotional matters without the— well, the manipulation and deal-making.
one of the main issues is his massive ego. it's that unfaltering pride that gets in the way of him apologising. he may be the radio demon, but all that power can't help him here. and he'd never openly admit to such, but he truly is at somewhat of a loss here. he's already tried most things that he's sure would usually make you forgive him, though for a reason unbeknownst to him, it's not working this time.
"oh alastor," rosie shakes her head with a small huff, "a lady's heart is to be treated with care." she lends some further words of wisdom and encouragement that he listens to with great attentiveness, since he does (begrudgingly) enjoy your company, and it would be a shame if it was lost over such a, in his eyes, trivial matter.
upon his return to the hotel, he manages to get you to sit down with him (after much polite pestering and insistence) to have a chat over some tea. when all is said and done, the two of you sit in a comfortable silence. you sip your tea, watching the blazing fires of hell from the balcony.
"refill?" alastor offers, glancing at you briefly through a sip of his own tea.
"much appreciated." you hum, legs crossed as you throw him a small, slack smile.
♡ angel dust
his frustration slowly fizzles out as the door closes behind you, and the guilt slowly starts to creep in. he knows he shouldn't have said what he did, and he wants nothing more than to apologise and make it up to you — but he understands that it's probably better to give you some time to cool off before trying to approach you again.
despite the argument and the harsh words exchanged between you, the fact that he cares for you with his whole heart will never change, and he hopes you know that too.
while you're away, angel always finds his thoughts drifting to you, wondering how you're doing. are you eating okay? are you drinking enough? sleeping enough? with a shake of his head and a small sigh, he tries his best to return his focus back to the task at hand, whatever it may be.
he knows you can take care of yourself perfectly fine, but he just... misses you. the guilt eats away at him when he's reminded of the look on your face when you left, the brief glimmer of hurt in your eyes before you masked it with anger and tore your gaze away.
one particular night, angel heads over to your room in the hotel out of habit, not really thinking about it when he raises a fist to knock on the door. he had been hoping to spend some time with you, since today had been a particularly rough day for him. he's also been craving for one of your sleepover nights for a while, those nights where you two would stay up to talk about anything and everything until dawn rises. those times were comforting for him — a rare moment of respite in his life.
but then he stops abruptly, remembering that you're not there. he lets his hand fall back to his side, expression quietly downcast. he stands alone in the silent, empty hallway. has it always been this cold?
after a few days, he's just about damn ready to go looking for you, making his way down the stairs as he prepares to head out. he's so focused that he almost misses the sight of you seemingly casually sitting at the bar, nursing a drink in your hands whilst exchanging low murmurs with husk.
he freezes momentarily, taking a deep breath. while he mentally debates with himself whether to approach you or not, husk notices him hesitating on the staircase. he catches angel's gaze, giving him a subtle nod. that's all the affirmation angel needs.
he slides on his usual relaxed demeanour, though it's a little weaker than normal, as he approaches you. he's admittedly a little nervous, but he's determined to work things out with you. he puts a gentle hand on your shoulder to catch your attention. "hey, darlin'. can i talk to you for a minute?"
the two of you head back to your room, where heartfelt apologies are exchanged and a long overdue conversation takes place. at some point during the talk, his hand had found its way on top of yours, thumb brushing over your skin gently. at the end of it all, he gives you a small, content smile. "...baby, you have no idea just how much i adore you." he whispers into the quiet, running his fingers through your hair comfortingly as your head rests on his shoulder.
it was an unspoken agreement that tonight was going to be a sleepover night. prepare for lots of cuddling and gentle, soft kisses.
♡ vox
he's the type to go "ha, see if i care!" when you leave, but he'll still check on you occasionally through the various cameras and electronics around the city — he swears it's just because he's making sure the new limited edition voxtek product he had given to you isn't damaged.
(...it's totally because he's looking out for you, by the way. even if it's only a little. you are his darling, after all. and uh, you'll never know what happened to that guy who tried to hit on you that one time).
(vox made sure not even a trace of that bastard remained).
his obnoxious pride makes him reluctant to reach out first. that, and he's a petty little shit. so everyone around him, whether that be the other vees or his employees, is stuck dealing with his foul mood. he's become even more irritable and susceptible to lashing out than usual since you left.
he'd rather die than admit it, but you were a calming presence in his life that he hadn't realised he needed until you were gone. he hates just how much power you have over him, though you may or may not realise it. he's supposed to be the one in charge. when did you manage to sneak into his heart? his mind is occupied with thoughts of you.
and it only frustrates him more, because you're not here.
all his employees are left on edge, even more so when he takes his anger out on some poor soul who had gotten the numbers wrong on the report they handed in. "clean this mess up." vox snaps, glowering as he fixes the cuffs of his sleeves. the demon at the door hurriedly moves to do as he says, not wanting to risk meeting the same fate.
"what? what are you looking at?" he turns, eyes narrowing at the rest of the employees who flinch, hastily turning their eyes back to the screens in front of them. "get back to work." he mutters sharply, an unspoken threat in his words.
his volatile temperament goes on for a while, until velvette decides she's finally had enough and sends you a (not so) polite text to resolve your little lover's spat before she takes matters into her own hands.
meanwhile, vox is in his office. nothing seems to be going his way, and he's just about to blow another fuse when you nonchalantly throw open the doors, inviting yourself in. he freezes, staring at you for a few moments. you raise a brow. "...so. i heard you were throwing another hissy fit."
vox scowls at that, grumbling under his breath. "oh yeah? and what'd you come back for, you prissy little princess?" he sneers, clawed fingers digging into the desk with a quiet screech. "couldn't go without me for long, huh?"
"ha. you wish that was the case." you scoff, rolling your eyes with a half-amused, irked smile curling at your lips. things escalate into another argument pretty quickly, with the two of you at each other's throats. he towers over you, eyes narrowing as his grin widens in mild irritation.
it's a back and forth for quite some time, until you get sick of it and grab him by the collar of his shirt, yanking him closer until you're glaring at one another face to face. "what the fuck do you think you're—" he starts, but he's quickly cut off when your lips crash into his. vox is stunned for a few moments but soon snaps out of it, swiftly returning your kiss with equal, if not more, ferocity and intensity.
"finally got you to shut up." you murmur, grinning as you part to catch your breath and release his shirt from your grasp. before you can pull back completely, however, his hand reaches up to rest against the back of your neck, the other firmly on your waist. it takes another long, drawn-out kiss for him to finally let you go — though not really, since he's still holding you close in his arms.
"...that was hot." he whispers breathlessly, staring down at you with a somewhat satisfied glint in his eyes. but you both know that there's more to come.
suffice to say, the two of you sorted things out.
♡ lucifer
he would regret everything almost instantly. lucifer realises just how badly he fucked up when you leave without looking back. he's not even quite sure what happened as he stands alone in the room, blinking as he's left to process everything on his own. his mind is a jumbled mess, and he can't think clearly.
all he can feel is a suffocating rush of fear as he snaps out of his daze and hurries after you, desperate to find you before you're gone. he doesn't want to take his chances. what if you don't come back? what if—
he had said things that he didn't mean, and now the weight of it all feels crushing on his shoulders. he's torn between wanting to reach out to apologise and giving you time to cool down. he doesn't want to be a bother, but also really wants to make things up to you.
most of all, he just wants reassurance that you'll come back to him and that he hasn't messed things up for good. he doesn't want to lose you. you're too precious to him for that, and he's mentally kicking himself for ever making you question your importance to him for even a second.
thankfully, you haven't gone too far so he's able to catch up to you, taking a hold of your wrist firmly. however, when you turn to look at him, he falters, the words dying in his throat. he swallows, softly clearing his throat as he scrambles to say something, anything to stop you from leaving. to reaffirm his love for you.
"...sweetheart, i'm so sorry," he whispers, expression twisted and heart heavy with remorse and sorrow as he brings you close, grip subconsciously tightening because he's afraid to let you go. "i'll do anything, i'll make it up to you, i—" he trails off, burying his face into your shoulder, "just, please... don't leave. i'm sorry."
you really can't stay mad at him for too long after seeing his genuine sincerity. he acknowledges his wrongs, wanting nothing more than to make up for his mistakes and make you feel as appreciated and cared for as you've made him feel over the course of you two knowing each other. you sigh gently, thumb lightly brushing over his cheek. "...alright, silly. let's go home."
his eyes light up at that, and he's reminded of just how grateful he is to have you here by his side as you guys make your way home together. he holds your hand the entire time.
after the two of you make up, you find that he'll leave little gifts and cute trinkets around for you despite your gentle assurances that he doesn't have to. he also gives you lots of forehead kisses. he just wants to make sure you never forget how much he loves you, and that you mean the world to him.
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© dearaceofhearts ー all rights reserved. please do not steal, use or modify my works!
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zerosuitsammi3 · 2 days
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Hey Sammie, a while back, you made a post about some tucking panties that you were either sponsored by or just really liked. I was looking through and can't seem to find the post. Would you be about to post a link to them? Thanks a bunch in advance!
Yaaassssswssss! The company is called Tcomfifits! Link to follow! I still do the occasional promo work for them, just haven't kept up with it as much due to life being silly and hectic, but seriously I still only wear these undies. I actually threw away a good majority of my old undied once I got my comfifits. But I digress, I have been in contact with the company recently and was going to start doing some promos again in the very near future, so I'm really glad that you asked!
ALSO BIG NEWS!!!
Tcomfifits is planning to release another line of undies next month!!! And girl they are about to put out tucking thongs!
I should be getting a couple pairs to model so keep an eye out for those posts to come in the next few weeks!
Also! Use discount code: P5YBXVJN9C3M for $30 off!!!
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rougecreator1 · 3 days
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Requestion 😉 for Regina x Reader:
possessive!Regina where Gretchen tells her a rumour about Reader being reallyyy close to another girl in PE. Regina publicly claims Reader in the hallways, but when they get home Regina is insecure and starts crying, Reader reassures them that they’ve only got eyes for Regina
Bruising Kisses||
|| Regina George x nonbinary!reader
|| Warnings: swearing, possessive Regina, insecure Regina, hinted at smut at the end but no actual details or anything
|| Summary: Gretchen tells Regina about a rumour where reader is close to another girl, Regina publicly claims reader in the hallway. When they get home, Regina's insecurities show and reader assures Regina they only have eyes for her. Lots of kisses.
Requests open!
Started: April 24th
Finished: April 25th
~~~
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It was PE. Depending on the day, PE was Regina's least favourite class. She only enjoyed it when it was dodge ball and she could absolutely destroy everyone. Luckily for her, today was one of those days where Coach Carr took out the dodge balls.
Teams were made, Regina being Captain of one and some kid she didn't care enough about to name being the Captain of the other. On her team she had Gretchen, Cady and a bunch of other weirdos she picked because they didn't seem entirely awful. Karen didn't share PE with them, she had it with you in the following period. Otherwise Regina would have picked both of them too.
It was the middle of the game, Regina had already sent one person to the nurse's office and was about to send another there as she pulled back her ball when Gretchen suddenly appeared behind her.
"Regina! Emergency!" Gretchen whisper muttered, the blonde glanced at her in confusion and she motioned for Regina to follow.
Very. Very reluctantly Regina did, Gretchen made some excuse to Coach Carr about how she was getting her water bottle cause she left it in the locker room and the two left the gym.
When in the locker room, Gretchen looks at Regina. She was nervous because she knew she didn't have anything good to tell her.
Regina folded her arms across her chest, eyebrow raised as she watched Gretchen. "Well?"
"I heard a rumour that Y/N's gotten really close with a girl! Karen got from someone else that they were holding hands and being all over each other!" Gretchen rambled out, talking really quickly. Regina's eyes widened.
You were what?
Not if she had anything to say about it.
"Gretchen!" Regina snapped, getting her to stop her nervous ramble as Regina's eyes narrowed. "Who's the girl?"
"I don't know!"
"Find out." Regina was pissed, to say the least. She didn't want to doubt you, you'd been nothing but great to her. She hadn't expected you to go and do something like this. What about this girl was better than her? Her? Regina George? Regina went to her locker and got out her phone, texting you to meet her outside the gym after fifth period.
You had been in social studies when you got the text from Regina, glancing down at your phone.
meet outside the gym. after class.
You felt yourself tense. You could just tell through the way Regina had texted you that she was pissed off. Which was a horrifying thought to you. You and Regina have gotten in fights before and they are never pretty. How you're still alive after some of them you'll never know.
The rest of your class seemed to just drag on as your nervousness grew. Your best friend, Harley Banks, looked at you with a raised eyebrow when she noticed you fidgeting in your seat. She leaned over, resting her hand to your knee.
"Y/N?" Harley whispered, snapping you out of your anxiety for a very brief moment as you glanced at her.
"Huh?"
"You okay?" She asked, concerned for you. She was the friend Gretchen had heard the rumours about.
"Yeah-huh." You nodded, trying to seem like you were fine but you knew Harley knew you better than that. She sighed, but didn't push it since the two of you were in class.
After class, you went to where Regina had asked you to meet her. You saw her standing there, arms folded with an intense gaze in her eyes. Her eyes never leaving you for even a moment. People walked through the halls, glancing in the direction of the two of you. Most of them focusing more on Regina as whispers rang throughout the hall.
When you got close, Regina's hand wrapped around your throat and pulled you in for a rough kiss. Your eyes widened at the suddenness of it, but you melted into it. You figured that would be better than fighting her on it for doing something like this in public. Regina broke off the kiss after a long moment, her thumb trailing across her bottom lip as you stared into her eyes. Remaining silent.
"You're choosing some bitch over me?" Regina's eyes met yours. Your expression shifted to confusion.
"What?"
You had no idea what Regina was talking about. Choosing someone over her?
Regina noticed how genuinely confused you seemed to be, catching her off guard. She had a whole argument planned out... but you seemed to have no idea what she was talking about.
Harley walked over in the worst possible moment, arm draping around your shoulder as you glanced at her and then at Regina who looked beyond pissed. Then it clicked.
She was jealous of Harley.
"Harley, can you just give me a moment? I'll meet you in French, okay?" You said, taking her arm off you. Trying to prevent Regina from going off on the poor girl.
Harley tilted her head at you, then looked at Regina before looking back at you.
"Yeah, okay.." You could tell she was worried, just as she was about to walk away when Regina had grabbed you by your wrist.
Her grip was tight as she pulled you in close to her, her pull rough enough that you're surprised she didn't give you whiplash. Your bodies met and she kissed you again with a kiss so bruising you were sure it would leave some kind of mark. You were caught by surprise, but allowed her to do it and kissed her back.
When Regina broke off the kiss, you were completely breathless. She smirked at you then got the attention of everyone who had been walking through the hall at the time.
"Anyone who so much as touches them," She points at you, her gaze blazing. You could feel the tension in the halls." You can kiss whatever social life you have goodbye."
She was making damn sure the school knew you were hers. An action that made you blush.
Some people glanced at each other, others whispered. You didn't care.
The bell rang and you looked at Regina, who rolled her eyes but nodded and let go of you so you could go to your next class.
~~~
It was now well into the evening, you and Regina were watching a movie. Well not so much watching it as you were making out with each other. Since you had gotten to her place, she hadn't taken her hands off you for even a second.
You broke off the kiss and started to get up, she grabbed you and pulled you back in. You looked at her with a soft gaze.
"I'm just going to the bathroom, Reggie." You whisper to her, she looks into your eyes and you can just tell something was wrong." Baby?"
You decided the bathroom could wait.
Regina clearly needed you.
She wrapped her arms around your lower waist, her grip possessive.
"I just-" She started to say something, but shook her head." Nevermind."
"No, don't do that. Tell me." You try to get the information out of her, she sighs and glances down.
"You wouldn't leave me, would you?" She asked. The question made you pause, blink and stare at her.
"Regina, no. I'd never." You whisper in assurance, your voice soft but firm so she knew you were serious. Your hand come up to touch her cheek and you felt as you leaned into it.
"Swear it." Her tone wasn't harsh, but it wasn't soft. It sounded almost trembly, like she was holding back tears.
You frowned at this," I swear to you, Regina."
She nods, but you could just tell she wasn't convinced. You adjusted yourself as you pulled her into your arms, laying back so she laid on top of you.
"What's going through your pretty mind, baby?" You asked, wanting to know exactly what had her feeling this way.
"Am I too much? What if you get sick of me?" She looked at you, tears formed in her eyes but she looked towards the ceiling and refused to let them fall.
"Regina?" This had you confused.
"I want to cry but my mascara was $48!" You really tried not to laugh, she glared at you when she heard that." It's not funny, Y/N!"
"No, I know. I'm sorry." You stifled your laugh as best as you could, you knew it wasn't funny. But it kind of was at the same time.
"I promise I won't ever be sick of you." You tell her, hoping she believes you. She looks at you and the tears fall as she sees your soft gaze.
"Damn it!" Regina groaned the moment she started crying, her mascara dripping down her face.
"You need to invest in some good waterproof mascara, baby." You grinned, she rolled her eyes and you pulled her closer. Giving the corner of her mouth a soft, comforting kiss.
She paused and narrowed her eyes at you," What was that?"
"What was what?" You looked at her in confusion. Something you seemed to do a lot.
"That kiss, give me a real one." She demanded, now you were rolling your eyes as you rested your hand to the back of her neck and pulled her in for a real, passionate kiss.
She kissed you back and when you broke it you looked down at the blonde that laid on you.
"Are you okay?" You asked, wanting to make sure she was doing okay now. Or better at the very least.
Regina nodded and sighed.
"Good. Now get off cause I really need to go piss," You nudged her off you, which earned you a glare.
You got up and headed to the bathroom, making a mental note to give Regina all your attention tonight. You were going to assure her you wouldn't leave. And damn did you know the best way to do that.
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