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#and what if the other two people are having a conversation without you but still including you in the email
pocketramblr · 3 days
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Please!
AU where both Izuku and Bakugou are rejected from UA Hero Course.
And to make it juicy. The reason for the rejections is the suicide baiting incident being known by UA. While Bakugou is rejected for obvious reasons. Izuku is rejected for his ‘own safety’ and because they won’t trust his psyche went unscathed.
1- The thing about Bakugou is that he was not particularly well liked by his classmates at Aldera. Oh, he had friends, and no one was willing to stand up to him, but plenty of students had grudges about how he acted. They rolled their eyes when Bakugou went on a rant about being the only one who could make it to UA, or his lackeys hyped him up, but then they'd look away without a word when he caught them and glared. No one was going to say he wasn't powerful and couldn't do it, just like they weren't going to say Deku had any chance. Sometimes, capable people are also very annoying, and you just have to deal with that, so the kids did. And if a few were in a small group chat that would sneak pictures or videos to show the kids not in their class and complain, well, that's what the kids did. And then one day, one filmed the conversation after school, after Bakugou threw out the notebook, and posted it publicly, as well as in the chat.
2- nothing came of this. Izuku had either blocked or been blocked by a lot of his classmates online, and hadn't really bothered to look for most of them anyway, so neither he nor Bakugou are aware of the video. The sludge villain sort of happened an hour later, and that's what got the big media buzz- the news couldn't publish the names of the teens involved if they ever even had them, but locally, people at Aldera knew who the kids on tv were.
3- the next year, UA has its recommendation exams. Every student is meticulously background checked before even being accepted as an potential for the exam and interview. A couple weeks later, they have the standard exam. The background checks will happen after this- UA after all has a very prestigious image. Bakugou wasn't wrong that if he took his lackey's cigarette and UA found out, his chances would be gone. Unfortunately for him, the video was still online. Mostly forgotten about... Until it contained not one but two potential UA students.
4- Nedzu and the six hero course homeroom teachers are on the board of student admissions, but so are two others each from administration, public relations, the school board, and the heroics commission. The top fifty scorers are ruthlessly picked through. The video is watched. Some want to exclude Izuku, some Bakugou, some both. Nedzu would prefer to have them both enrolled in separate classes, but is outvoted. He doesn't warn the board this will mean All Might will not be staying on to teach - he really can't, without telling secrets, but he does warn All Might the next night, and gracefully accepts his resignation.
5- a week after the exams, acceptance and rejection letters are sent. These are simply written on paper. Apparently neither of them are a good fit for the school. No further reason is given. Bakugou spends one day in his room, quieter than ever, then rush applies to other schools. Shiketsu is supposed to be UA's equal. Perhaps their admissions process will be less rigid. Or perhaps his rise to number one is "supposed" to come from humble starts, and Aldera Middle School wasn't that, but some mid rank hero school is. Meanwhile, on the beach, All Might tells Izuku that he actually ended up with the most rescue points in the exam, and his score was high enough to place him in top ten... It was just the screenings afterwards that did it. Perhaps the school was concerned about his health, with him breaking nearly every limb. Or perhaps his incorrect quirk registration was a red flag- either way, it's things All Might blames himself for, Izuku is the one who passed the test, and with only a few hours of having OfA too. So All Might asks Izuku what he wants to do- try for another hero school nearby? Toshinori probably can't get a job there on short notice without being suspicious, but he'll work to train him every day after, and come up with some other excuse for why he's in the field less. Or, should he reach out to I-island? Toshinori's even willing to see about setting up a personal internship with himself or Gran Torino, though he really kinda hopes Izuku doesn't pick that one. Izuku bursts into tears and apologies, having only held them back this long out of shame, they hug, and Toshi tells Izuku to take his time deciding, it'll be all right, because Izuku is here and he has full faith in him, regardless of what UA admissions thinks.
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joelsgreys · 2 days
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a safe haven l ten
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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series masterlist l previous chapter l next chapter
summary: After a long night, Joel and Ellie take you home.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MENTIONS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF AN INJURY SUSTAINED FROM AN ACT OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, PREGNANCY, CONVERSATIONS SURROUNDING PREGNANCY LOSS . PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. Ellie and reader are very close to each other, Joel deals with feelings of guilt, Joel and Maria make nice, Joel gives reader a bath and washes her hair, food consumption (i am just gonna apologize to my lactose intolerant folks right now, trust me i must pretend with you), both reader and Joel have some big feelings, reader mentions her deceased father, angst, soft and domestic Joel, fluff.
word count: 5k
a/n: i have not updated this series since october. :l i feel a a mixed bag of emotions updating after all this time, but most of all, i am grateful to know there are a couple of people out there who are still invested in this story. to anyone who has been waiting: truly, it means the world that you have shown me patience, support, and kindness. believe me, i am going to be seeing this story to the end, and it is all thanks to those who continue to show this lil story of mine a whole lotta love. special shoutout to the loveliest human @mrsmando who made me this beautiful mooodboard every single time i got stuck during this chapter, i looked at it and it gave me the boost of inspiration i needed. thank you mimi <33 this chapter is fairly tame, the next chapter is already in the works, and there are a couple of time jumps coming. overall, we are down to the last handful of chapters. let’s finish this story and give these two the ending they deserve, shall we?
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“What the hell is taking Tommy so fucking long?” Ellie whines. She’s sprawled out on the couch with her head in your lap, and her arm draped over her eyes. Her feet are hanging, dangling over the edge of the couch at an odd angle after you’d warned her not to get muck from her sneakers on the linen fabric. Despite Joel insisting over and over that she head on back to the house, she had stubbornly refused, not wanting to leave your side. “It’s been over two hours! He’s taking fucking forever, man. What’s the fucking hold up?”
Joel bites back a sigh, masking his own impatience. Or at least, he tries. He’s grown just as restless as the kid, if not more. Much like Ellie, he’s desperate. He’s itching to take you home already, almost too anxious to watch you take that first step over his threshold, and into your new life with him and with Ellie. He aches, aches, to get you settled into the place where you would be spending the remainder of your days with one another, where you would be safe, and loved in the way you deserved to be loved—the place where he would cherish and adore you until his final breath.
“Don’t know,” he answers, his voice sounding rougher, more gruff than usual. Reaching up, he scrubs his hand down the side of his face, adding tiredly, “He might be a while longer, kiddo. It could be another hour, could be more. Like I already told you, s’probably best if you just go on and head back to the house without us, alright?”
“No. I’m not walking out that fucking door unless she’s with me.” She pauses and pulls her arm away from her face for a moment, just long enough to throw a teeny glare his way. “Unless you’re both with me. The three of us go home together, or it’s no fucking deal. Got it?”
He shakes his head in utter exasperation.
“Ellie, we’ll be right here down the fuckin’ road—”
Her hand shoots out and she flips him off.
Just when he’s about to chastise her, he stops himself, clamping his mouth shut. It’s pointless.
Kid’s too goddamn hard headed for her own good, and Joel knows he’s just wasting his breath with her.
“I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” you reassure them both, weaving your fingers through her hair to scratch at her scalp in an effort to soothe her. “Right, Joel?”
He meets your exhausted, worn down gaze from where he’s standing across the room, and his heart lurches in his chest. As the guilt begins creeping in, he’s forced to look away. He can’t imagine the living hell you had been through over the last twenty four hours alone. And the worst part about it was the realization that last night, while he was fast asleep in bed just a couple of houses up the road, that fucking bastard had his belt wrapped around your throat.
Joel feels sick to his fucking stomach all over again.
Horrifying, vividly real images of you helplessly trapped underneath Luke scratching and clawing at the leather around your neck with trembling fingers, struggling to breathe oxygen into your burning lungs as he tugged it tighter and tighter through the buckle flash in his mind, a gruesome nightmare turned into reality.
Exactly how far had Luke taken it?
Until you had grown too weak to keep fighting?
Until you almost lost complete consciousness?
Until he noticed the life threatening to leave your eyes?
Is that when he had finally stopped pulling on the belt?
Joel shudders, a bitter taste climbing up his throat as it sinks in. He could have lost you—and his unborn child.
This shouldn’t have happened.
He shouldn’t have let you walk away that night.
This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t let you walk away from him that night.
“Joel,” you say his name, quiet and weary.
His head snaps back in your direction and he glances at you, almost missing the subtle shake of your head. It is a silent warning telling him not to go there, though you know by the tight clench of his jaw it’s too late for that.
Joel makes the futile attempt to hide it, but he sees it written all over your face—you know what he’s thinking because you know him like the back of your own hand, and you just know he’s placing all of the blame for what happened to you on his own shoulders.
But can you honestly fault him for that?
How can you expect him not to feel like he is somehow responsible for this? Just how the hell is he supposed to make himself believe he hadn’t failed you?
Joel promised—he had fucking promised you—that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. He had sworn to keep you safe, made a vow to protect you from Luke, but here you are, your soft, delicate flesh marred with the painful evidence of yet another one of his failures.
And it was all because he had let you walk away on that fucking night.
He should have done something.
Even if it meant running the risk of you never speaking to him again—even if you never forgave him, spent the rest of your life angry and hating him for going against your wishes. He should have something.
“Joel—”
“Be right back,” he mutters, lightly shaking his head.
Shoving away from the doorframe he’s leaning against, Joel pivots on the heel of his boot and starts down the hallway. He walks into the kitchen where he finds Maria standing at the counter, tapping her fingers against the smooth, laminated oakwood as she waits for the coffee she’d offered him a few minutes ago to finish brewing. She’d offered to whip up a quick supper, but food was the last thing on everyone’s mind.
“Tommy’s been gone for a couple hours now. Girls are startin’ to get real tired of just sittin’ around waitin’ for him to come back,” he tells her, exhaling the sigh he’d held back in the living room. “What do you think could be keepin’ him so long?”
With her back still to him, Maria reminds him, “Well, he did mention he was going to round up the council and get them together for an emergency meeting.” She lets out a sigh that matches his own—it’s been a long night for her, too. When the last drop of dark roast drips into the glass pot, she carefully takes the pot by the plastic handle and pours the steaming coffee into a speckled, white and blue ceramic mug. “Do you take it with milk and sugar?”
“No thanks, that’s alright,” he declines as politely as he can.
“I also have cinnamon if you’d like?”
“Plain black’s just fine.” He gives her a nod of gratitude when she hands it to him. “Thank you. And I don’t just mean the coffee, but for, uh—for bandagin’ up my hand for me, too.” He clocks the brief look of surprise on her face and almost laughs. He doesn’t blame her for being taken aback, because truth be told, so is he. Since he’d met Maria, he had known she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. There was something of a mutual understanding between them, a silent agreement they had made to keep each other at arm’s length, to only interact when it was absolutely necessary.
Never did he think he would be standing in her kitchen, thanking her for patching up his hand, and for making him a cup of coffee out of the kindness of her heart.
His brother wouldn’t believe it.
“Don’t mention it.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she leans back against the counter. “How’s it feel, by the way?”
“S’fine,” he replies, shrugging. “Nothin’ I can’t handle.”
There’s a momentary silence. A taste of tension lingers over their heads, and he knows at one point or another, he’s going to have to address the affair, the very reason everything had unfolded in such a terrible manner.
Guess now’s as good a time as fuckin’ any, he thinks to himself with an inward sigh.
Joel lightly clears his throat. “Listen, since we’ve got a minute alone, just the two of us, I was wonderin’ if, uh—if we could talk ‘bout somethin’? If that’s alright?”
“Of course.” Maria gives him the floor.
“I know that she—” Pausing, he shuffles from the heel of one boot to the other, his ears burning hot. He had known it wouldn’t be an easy conversation to have, but he underestimated just how uncomfortable it would be, regardless of what she already knew. “I know she told you and Tommy all ‘bout us, and ‘bout our relationship. See, the thing is, the first time I saw her—”
Again, Joel stops, the burning sensation now radiating, spreading from his ears to his face and down his neck, flushing his skin a deep, deep shade of pink. Unable to meet his sister in law’s gaze, he glances down into his mug, as if he will somehow find the right words to say somewhere in the depths of his coffee.
“It was never my intention, y’know,” he finally says after a minute. “Goin’ after a married woman. I swear, I never meant to fall for her. I just fuckin’ did. I think I might’ve fallen for her long before I even met her,” he confesses. He feels himself darken to a shade of maroon under her curious stare. “And somehow, for reasons I ain’t all too sure I’ll ever understand, she fell for me too.”
Maria raises an eyebrow at him. “Look, I’m not judging you, Joel,” she assures him, shaking her head. “If that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not judging her, either.”
He looks up at her, blurting out, “You’re not?”
She moves her hands to cradle her swollen middle. “Do I wish you two had handled everything differently?” she answers her own query with a nod of her head. “Oh, I’m sure we all do. But I’ve known her for a long time now. I know the kind of woman she is. And I’m starting to see the kind of man you are.”
“And what kinda man is that, Maria?”
He waits without the slightest clue as to what she could possibly say.
“Since you came back to Jackson, I’ve chosen to keep my distance from you—but make no mistake, I’ve been watching you like a hawk since day one. Waiting for any signs of trouble. Waiting for you to fuck up. Waiting for you to give me a good reason to throw your ass out of this community because I didn’t trust you. Not after all the things I was told about you.”
He snorts. “You goin’ somewhere with this?”
“You are not who I thought you were,” Maria admits, smiling wryly. “I’ve gotten to see a different side of you. You pull your weight around here by doing your job and doing it well. You stay out of trouble—for the most part. And more importantly, I have seen the way that you’ve stepped up to be a father figure to Ellie. It takes a good man to do that, Joel.”
“Think that’s the nicest fuckin’ thing you’ve ever said to me,” he muses, setting his mug down on the counter. “I stepped up because I love her. I love them both. Those two, they’re the best parts of me. They’re the reasons I keep goin’ and now I’ve got another reason on the way.”
Maria smiles, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears.
Catching her hesitance, Joel asks, “What? What is it?”
“What comes next is not going to be easy,” she warns him, lowering her voice. Even with the living room a fair distance from the kitchen, she doesn’t want to run the risk of you overhearing her. “For as hard as we’re going to try to contain the fire, it will spread, and everyone in this town will find out about everything—including the affair. People are going to talk, and believe me, they’re going to have a whole lot to say about it, Joel.”
He can’t help but roll his eyes at her.
“Think I can handle some fuckin’ gossip, Maria.”
“I know you can. But I’m not sure if she can,” Maria tells him, quietly. “It worries me. She’s been through a lot in just one night alone. I don’t want her stressing anymore than she already has. She is in a very delicate stage of her pregnancy right now, Joel. If she’s not careful, she could have a miscarriage. She had one about two years ago when her father became sick—” Observing his lack of a reaction, she realizes, “You knew that already.”
“Yeah,” he sighs. He knows where she’s going with this. “I did. She told me ‘bout it.”
“It makes her chances of having another one higher—”
Joel doesn’t even allow himself to think of it happening to you again. “I get it,” he interjects, trying not to sound too curt. “I’ll make sure she takes it real easy, alright?”
Lifting a hand off her belly, she reaches out and takes a hold of his forearm, gripping it tightly.
“Promise me something, Joel. Promise me that you’ll look after her,” Maria pleads him, gently. “Please. After everything she’s been through—I need you to promise me that she’s going to be in good hands with you.”
He nods. Without thinking, he places his hand over hers in an unexpected token of affection and reassurance. “You have my word, Maria. I’ll take good care of her.”
She gives his arm a grateful squeeze, then glances over his shoulder at the clock on the wall. “It’s getting pretty late. We don’t know how much longer Tommy’s going to be with the council. Why don’t we just go ahead and call it a night?” she suggests. “We can all get together first thing in the morning at your place to talk about it.”
“Yeah, good idea,” he agrees. “She really needs to rest.”
Maria gives his arm another squeeze. 
“Go on then, Joel. Take your girls home.”
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“Finally!” Ellie exclaims with a dramatic flail of her arms as she shoves through the front door.
“Alright, kiddo. Get your behind upstairs and into the shower,” Joel instructs her, flipping on the lights in the foyer. “Y’smell like fuckin’ horse shit.”
She lifts the collar of her shirt to her nose, takes a whiff, and makes a face. “Yeah, I won’t argue with you there,” she mutters. She toes off her dirty sneakers and leaves them beside the door before dashing up the staircase, taking two steps at a time.
He shouts after her, “And don’t use up all the hot—”
“Yeah, yeah, I fucking know the rules, dude!”
Moments later, you both hear the shower going.
“Little shit,” he grumbles.
You exhale an amused huff through your nose.
Joel withdraws his arm from around your shoulders and reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together. “C’mon, darlin’.” He guides you up the stairs and down the hallway into his bedroom where he switches on the light before proceeding to lead you over to his dresser. “I’ve got a bunch of shirts in this top drawer here,” he says. Dropping your hand, he pulls it open for you and gestures to it with a jut of his chin as he takes a step backwards, moving out of the way. “Go ahead and pick one to sleep in tonight. Want you to be comfortable, so help yourself to whichever one you want, sweet girl.”
Nodding, you begin to rummage through the drawer, unaware of the moment he slips away. You reach for a t-shirt, but then a plaid green flannel catches your eye. You pluck it from the drawer, running your fingers over the soft, warm fabric. “Is it alright if I wear—?” You turn around, stopping mid sentence when you realize he’s no longer standing behind you. Puzzled, you follow the sound of running water into the bathroom where you find him kneeling beside the tub. “Joel? What are you doing?”
“Runnin’ you a bath.”
You notice the bloodied bandage beside him on the tile floor. “Joel, are you serious?” you scold him. “Maria just patched your hand up for you.”
“S’okay, peach. I can rewrap it when we’re done.” Joel sticks his injured hand under the faucet to check the temperature, the cold water soothing his cuts. Once it turns warm, then hot, he pulls out his hand, waiting for the tub to fill halfway before shutting the faucet off and rising to his feet. “C’mere, sweetheart.” He rolls the sleeves of his shirt up to his forearms, then beckons for you with both of his hands. “Let’s get you washed up.”
You remain standing by the door. “Joel, you don’t have to do this for me.”
“I know.”
“I’m capable of washing myself—”
“Yeah, I know that too,” he says, chuckling. “S’only fair, darlin’. Don’t you think?”
That’s when it hits you—how this moment is mirroring that night you had cleaned Joel up after you and Ellie had brought him home from the clinic with an injured shoulder. He allowed you to take care of him, and now, he was looking to do the same for you. And all you had to do was let him.
“But your hand—”
“Will be just fine,” Joel persists, stubbornly. “It’s nothin’ but a few cuts and scrapes. C’mon—or else I’m gonna march right over there and get you myself, peach.”
Knowing Joel, you certainly wouldn’t put it past him to throw you over his should and carry you to the bathtub.
“Fine,” you relent with a small sigh of defeat.
Setting his shirt down on the sink, you slowly walk over towards him and whirl around, letting him help you out of your knitted cardigan. You finish undressing yourself, inhaling a deep breath as you muster up the courage to turn back around and face him—when you finally do, it feels like a punch to the gut to see the heartbreak in his dark brown eyes, the subtle tremble of his bottom lip. You don’t have to look at yourself in the mirror to know it looks about a hundred times worse when you’re not wearing clothes.
Keeping your arms down at your sides, you fight every urge to cover yourself up. You’ve never felt so fucking vulnerable.
Clearing his throat, Joel holds out his hand. “C’mere.”
You accept it, and he helps you into the tub.
“How’s the water? S’not too hot, is it?”
You shake your head and he leans forward, kissing your temple so sweetly, your eyes flutter closed.
He washes your hair first, then takes a clean washcloth, lathering it up with a bar of milk and honey soap—the same soap he would smell on your skin all those nights. Admittedly, Joel preferred castile soap, but switched it when he found himself missing you during those weeks you were apart from him, when he needed the comfort of your scent. He is gentle with you, so gentle, as if he’s afraid you’ll shatter into pieces in his hands.
As he lightly drags the washcloth up your back and around your neck, you stiffen, prompting him to freeze too. “Fuck. Baby, did I hurt you?” he asks, and you hear the slight panic in his tone.
“No,” you say quickly, desperately trying to swallow the lump rising in your throat. “No, you didn’t hurt me. It’s just—” Every overwhelming emotion slams into you all at once, and you can’t seem to figure out which one to feel first. Humiliation? Fear? Relief?
The water sloshes around you as you pull your legs up to your chest and wrap your arms around your knees, giving yourself permission to feel them all. Bowing your head, you begin to sob quietly, hoping that Ellie, who is just down the hallway, won’t hear you crying again.
Joel says nothing. Washcloth still clutched in his hand, he leans forward over the edge of the tub and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, or at least, as close as the barrier between the two of you will allow him.
“Joel,” you choke, trying to push him off. “Stop it. Your clothes, they’re getting all wet.”
“Hush. Don’t fuckin’ care ‘bout my clothes,” he croaks, and for a second, you swear he’s about to cry too. But he doesn’t. He holds himself strong. Tugging you closer against his chest, he buries his nose into your soaking wet hair, whispering his reassurance. “You’re okay, baby. You’re safe, my sweet girl. I’ve got you, alright?”
He pulls back slightly, dipping his hand into the water, placing it on your lower belly.
You look down, your eyes glazing over his bruised and battered knuckles. Proof that Joel Miller really would do anything for you.
“I know you do,” you say, softly. “I know you’ve got me, Joel.”
A while later, you’re dried, dressed, and composed. You follow Joel out of the bathroom and back into his room, where he has you take a seat on the bed. Noticing you had missed a button on his flannel shirt, he does it for you. He plants a kiss on the top of your head and says, “Give me a minute while I change.”
He peels off his wet clothes, being careful so as not to further agitate his sore, injured hand. After changing into a pair of gray sweatpants and an old, faded black t-shirt, he turns around only to find you’re sitting in bed underneath the covers.
“Sorry,” you apologize with a nervous chuckle as you rest your back against the headboard. “It just looked so warm and cozy—and it smells like you. I couldn’t resist making myself comfortable.”
Joel pads over to the side of the bed. He leans over, planting one hand on either side of you as he dips his head and brushes his lips against yours. “Ain’t got no reason to apologize, baby,” he assures you in a gentle murmur. “This is your bed now too, peach. This is your room. This is your home. Alright?”
Home.
You’re home.
He touches the tip of his nose to yours, and then draws himself back up to full height. “There’s somethin’ that I’ve gotta take care of downstairs, peach. I won’t be too long,” he promises.
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It’s almost midnight. Joel goes about the kitchen and he prepares you the quickest meal that he can think of. He plates the sandwich he’d thrown together and pours a glass of cow’s milk—he’s always sure to keep a pint of it in the refrigerator to make the kid her oatmeal in the mornings.
He heads back upstairs, only to find that while he had been gone, Ellie had joined you, making herself a little too comfortable on his side of the bed. He stands there at the door, watching the two of you.
“Hey, so is it true babies can hear stuff while they’re in there?” Ellie questions you, curiously.
“Mhm,” you reply with a nod. “They can hear music, for example. Voices—”
“Voices?” She smushes her face into your stomach and he hears a muffled, “Hey, dude!”
You giggle. “Ellie, I think it’s still a little too early.”
“When do you think it’ll be able to hear me?”
“I’m not too sure. In a few months, maybe?”
Ellie lifts her head, humming. “You know, I bet there’s baby books in the library,” she tells you as she sits up. “I’ll have Dina help me look for one tommor—oh shit.” She stares at you with wide eyes. “Dina! How are you going to tell her and Talia about Luke?”
Joel grimaces. He hadn’t thought of that, either.
“I—I’m not too sure.”
“You have to fucking tell them. Dina has to know about him. She has to know what a piece of shit he is, and so does Talia.”
Sensing your discomfort, Joel steps into the bedroom and intervenes before she can say another word. “Ellie, get to bed. S’late.”
“But—”
“Don’t make me tell you again,” he warns her, sternly.
She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Fine.” She climbs off the bed and on her way out, she eyes the plate in his hand. “That chicken?”
“Turkey. And it ain’t for you, it’s for her. So scram, kid.”
“Couldn’t have made me one while you were at it, old man?”
“Ellie, if you don’t get outta here right now—”
“Alright!” Ellie holds her hands up. “I’m leaving. Jesus.”
She disappears, closing the door behind her.
“Pain in my ass,” Joel mumbles, shaking his head as he walks over and carefully perches himself beside you. He hands you the plate. “Here, darlin’.”
“Joel, I appreciate this, but I’m really not very hungry.”
“Maybe not, but y’gotta eat,” he insists. “Baby needs it.”
Thankfully, you accept it without further protest.
“I’ll have Ellie get your things tomorrow,” Joel states as you’re eating. “Maria can go along with her since she knows the house. They’ll get your clothes and whatever else you might need outta there.”
“My father’s belongings.” You accidentally talk through a mouthful of turkey and bread. Swallowing, you tell him, “I have some boxes of his stuff in the basement. But they’re way too heavy for either of them to carry.”
“I’ll take care of that for you.” He reaches up, wiping a breadcrumb from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “I can ask Tommy to give me a hand. Don’t you worry, peach. We won’t leave your dad’s things behind, I swear it.”
Relieved, you shoot him a grateful look, then polish off the last few bites of your sandwich.
“Here,” he says, offering you the glass of milk. “Figured it’s good for you, and good for the baby. Y’know, since it’s got calcium and…stuff.” He shrugs sheepishly, no clue as to what he’s talking about. “Vitamins, right?”
Nodding, you grab the glass and take a reluctant sip.
“You hate milk,” Joel realizes, raising an eyebrow.
“I do,” you admit with a laugh. “But you’re right. It’s good for both me and the baby, so cheers.” And with that, you somehow force the entire glass down.
He sets the dishes aside on the nightstand, figuring he can take them downstairs first thing in the morning.
Without bothering to rebandage his hand like he’d told you he would, Joel turns off the lights and climbs into bed with you. “All those nights wishin’ I could bring you home,” he muses as you curl into his side. “Wantin’ nothin’ more than to hold you in my arms in this bed. In our bed.” His arm slips around your shoulders, a laugh rumbling through his chest. “Almost doesn’t feel real, darlin’.”
Tilting your head, you nuzzle your nose into the scruff of his beard, prompting him to laugh again. Then, he remembers his conversation with Maria, and his smile fades from his face, his lips pursing together.
You catch the sudden shift in his demeanor.
“Joel? What’s the matter?”
“M’fine, baby. It’s just—” He hesitates. “From this point forward, I need you to let me handle things.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t want you gettin’ all stressed out, alright? I don’t want to run the risk of you—” He’s unsure of how to say it.
“Of me losing the baby,” you finish for him, quietly.
Joel winces, knowing he was wandering into sensitive territory. “Yeah. I—I really don’t want that to happen.” He pauses. “Maria mentioned to me you’re in a delicate stage. When do you reckon you’ll stop—how long until you don’t gotta worry ‘bout it?”
“After twelve weeks, my risk isn’t as high. If I make it to the second trimester in six weeks, then my chances of having another miscarriage are lower.”
Though you speak calmly, he clocks your anxiousness.
You’re worried, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t fucking worried out of his mind too.
Being a father at his age wasn’t ideal, but he wanted this child. It was part of him, and more importantly, it was a part of you.
Joel squeezes your shoulders. “I only ask ‘cause I was thinkin’ that, y’know, once we get to that point, maybe I can go ahead and start buildin’ the baby’s crib.”
“You’re going to build the crib?”
He nods. “And the highchair too. I can even make you a diaper changin’ table if y’want one.”
“Joel.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Our worlds were just turned completely upside down. You just found out that I’m pregnant, and you’re already thinking about building furniture? Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves?”
“Hey, those things take a whole ‘lotta time,” he says in defense of himself. “Besides, winter’s right around the corner and I don’t wanna be out in the garage freezin’ my fuckin’ ass off. If I can get a head start now, I can have them all done in the spring by the time the baby comes.”
You fall silent.
“What’s on your mind?”
“I’m really scared of losing it,” you confess. “When I first took that pregnancy test, I wanted nothing more for it to be negative. Now, I’m terrified I won’t make it past my first trimester again. I really don’t want to lose it. I want this baby, Joel.”
He turns his head, meeting your eyes in the silver light shining through the lace curtains over his window. “S’why you’ve gotta let me handle things, darlin’. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“C’mere, my sweet girl.” Joel presses his lips to yours, murmuring against them, “I love you.”
His declaration comes with natural ease.
And so does yours.
“I love you too, Joel.”
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strqyr · 3 days
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thinking out loud here, but... now with all of the beyond episodes out, i'm starting to wonder if the goal is to actually return to vale for the final battle.
for one, the final battle of the great war that lead to peace happened in vacuo, exactly the kingdom everyone is in currently. that's where the preparations are happening, that's the kingdom that everyone is primed to defend. but what i also find interesting about the great war battle is that the king of vale arrived with what are very likely to be the sword of destruction and the crown of choice—exactly the relics salem currently doesn't have.
then there's 'boba' and the very on-the-nose way of pointing that tai is doing something important in vale / patch that prevents him from being in vacuo. and like. it's the crown, right. or specifically, the vault that houses the crown; the whole point of the academies was to house the vaults that house the relics so that they would be surrounded by people capable of defending the academies at all times. and if the vault isn't at beacon—which is likely because salem hasn't found it yet, and at haven cinder points out how that vault looks way cooler than the one in beacon so what's the extra effort for, and i get the feeling it's not so much that any extra effort has gone to haven's vault, but rather that beacon's "vault" isn't really a vault to begin with—then obviously ozpin wouldn't leave it completely unguarded, but it also must be done discreetly as to not give the game away; and that's where tai comes in.
and because they made it so apparent in 'boba', it doesn't sound like a thing that's going to get addressed once they're done in vacuo and are ready to move back to vale, it sounds like it's imminent, something teased for V10 if / when it happens.
the king of vale had the sword and the crown. the resistance in vacuo is still in possession of the sword so that's accounted for, but getting the crown is a trickier problem to solve (if they're going for "ozma's side has the crown and the sword (like the king of vale did) while salem has the lamp and the staff" angle here).
enter 'the adventures of somewhat'. somewhat, in their cloak reminiscent of ruby's, talks to the red prince, who still has the scar on his face.
the red prince's purpose is to win the game. cinder holds the key to their victory. the red prince has sent all his followers away. cinder no longer has emerald and mercury by her side.
the red prince promises to help somewhat in their task if they beat him in the game. his purpose is to win that game.
"that doesn't seem very fair. what if my purpose was to win, too?" "such is the way of our life." "what if it doesn't have to be? i'm still new here, but i've met loads of afterans and people that have grown and found new things to do, even without going to the tree."
what if they don't need to be enemies locked in a battle they both want to win. what if it could be different: "who knows, maybe you could teach others to win. speaking of, i won! i think? i'm sorry."
with this little, simple conversation, somewhat left a somewhat of a big impression on the prince; and while he didn't join somewhat to keep his promise of helping them (that we saw of), he also dropped the tree leaves he could use to ascend.
and there was one less wrong thing in the ever after.
cinder holds the key to salem's victory. could she hold it for someone else—"maybe you could teach others to win"? could ruby get a chance to talk to cinder in the same way somewhat did with the prince, leaving an impression that gets cinder to change her mind? what if they don't need to be two enemies, pawns on a board, locked in battle?
the red prince promised to help if somewhat beat him in the game. they did. and i think this is something that might just happen with ruby and cinder too, and that's how the vacuo resistance gets hold of the crown.
all they need is a small team to head to vale to retrieve it, return to vacuo, and the grand stage of the final battle of the great war is once again set.
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The Pull Of You - Part 1
Marvel
Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader x Bucky Barnes
Soulmates - Feeling the pull between each other indicates a bond. A kiss confirms it.
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Summary: You meet Steve and Bucky on a Tuesday. Steve ignores the soulmate pull, Bucky can't. There's something about you that neither can shake, even when you're wearing one of Clint's t-shirts and your unicorn slippers. After weeks of slipping into your bed Bucky decides he can't hold back anymore. He's telling you after the mission, whether Steve is all in or not. When you don't come back from the mission, they are both ready to burn the world down and the team have the matches to help. But is everything as it seems and have they been betrayed by someone on the inside.
Chapter Summary: You hate it when people make you get your head out your ass and realise what's right in front of you. Especially when it's involving a certain two super soldiers.
You're antsy on the way home. That's what Clint calls it anyway. He's eyeing you as you flip a knife between your fingers and it doesn't take him long to notice it's Bucky's knife. One given to him during his time in Wakanda. He's pulled away as Nat, his own soulmate calls him to the back of the jet, a worried look on her face. He goes to speak but Nat puts her fingers to her lips and signs instead.
"Did she say anything?"
Nat and Clint had dropped you in France to assist French intelligence with a high level threat that involved Chitauri weapons being smuggled through the Paris tunnels. The S.H.I.E.L.D agents had clashed with the French authorities so Hill had asked you to step in, smooth things over and take the lead. Nat and Clint had picked you back up as they passed by from their own mission in Spain. You'd been your usual self when they'd left you but you were definitely not yourself when they picked you back up.
Clint shook his head in response to her question, he paused for a moment and signed back.
"Maybe something happened."
"I already checked the first reports coming in and her body cam, I'm not seeing any issues, apart from Agent 17 being an asshole."
"Well, that's nothing she can't handle."
"Is it me? Am I being too overprotective? Is she still mad at me?"
"No, my love." he signed back, "maybe she's thought about what you said."
Nat lowered her eyes, still disappointed in herself at how she'd lost her cool when you'd try to avoid the conversation about Steve and Bucky, and speaking to them about your feelings a week earlier. She'd slipped into bed with you in the early hours of the morning following your heated conversation an apology on her lips.
A muffled "Fuck off Romanoff" had come from the lips buried in your hair. Bucky. You couldn't look her in the eye as he pulled you back towards his chest, his metal arm around your waist. You didn't look up until his soft snores were heard, expecting her usual smug expression, but you were met with a sympathetic one and the lump in your throat that you'd been fighting since that morning was back and tears ran down your face. She stroked your cheek and kissed your forehead, holding you as much as she good without disturbing Bucky. It took a while for you to stop and when you did she realised it was because you'd cried yourself to sleep.
Your door opening brought another guest and she'd half expected one or both of her soulmates to peek round the door, but it wasn't Bruce or Clint. It was in fact a 6ft 6" blonde super soldier. Well he definitely wasn't one of hers. She couldn't hold it in this time and smirked as she slipped from the bed.
"Don't say it." Steve whispered.
"I don't know what you mean Rogers, I wasn't going to say a damn thing."
"Liar."
"It was Castle wasn't it, he got under your skin."
"Goodnight you damn know it all."
Nat quietly left the room as Steve took the vacant spot in your bed.
Back on the jet Nat and Clint watched as you huffed and placed the knife back into the sheath built into your suit. You pulled out a tablet from the charge point on the wall of the jet and started to type furiously.
Maybe something had happened on the mission.
TAGLIST
@imdoingbetternow
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fic-heaven · 2 days
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Enemies to lovers with König and witty reader? I don't know if you also write about him so imma leave this here
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Answering two anons at the same time lmao
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Say my name
(König x witty! Reader)
🐥 The first time König appeared on my drafts was when I was making my last Reyes x Reader fic and um... I kind of wanted to keep doing lmao so here it is. Sorry for my broken English-
Angst/ SOCIAL ANXIETY/ slight nsfw/ open ending (if you guys want a part two and this short gets some attention)
⚠️ I still picture König as Lee Pace ⚠️
.
They say you transfered from SpecGru to KorTac because you simply wanted a change of airs. But it couldn't be that simple. Why were you so simple?
As antisocial as he seemed to be, König was well aware that a bond between teammates was needed in order to sync and function properly during missions. He wasn't the best at striking up conversations and never intended to improve on this aspect either, often trying to figure people out from the distance, he only approached them if he had questions about their character. Horangi once said it was weird but König frankly didn't care about what was socially accepted or not, he just made the effort to know his team because it was expected of him, and as great as it would be to have friends, he struggled socializing and had given up trying ages ago. König was paid to kill, not to make friends. And as far as his interactions went with his teammates, the only one who gets his game and could be considered his friend is Horangi. But you?
He had tried to investigate you, even going as far as using his position as colonel to gather as much information from your background to understand you without having to make any awkward approach. But nothing he found explained why you changed factions or why you behaved the way you did. You had a normal childhood, went to a good school, graduated being top of your class... Jesus you had a rabbit called Mr. Whiskers, even the deepest info given was borely normal. No trace of trauma or any mental disorder.
König begun studying you like a biologist would to a newfound species and got more and more invested and frustrated the more information he gathered, because he simply couldn't excuse your... Well, your everything.
He approaches you one time during morning drills, looks you up and down as you stretched, ignores the flirty comment you shot his way, because what the fuck is your problem? You don't know him. Then König proceeded to mouth the first thing he ever said to you, one of the main questions he had on his head as to why you would behave so strangely. And it goes like this: "Do you have any mental illness, hm?"
"I might have, yeah."
And you said it so casually. Do you, though? Are you being sarcastic or... God he hates you. Why can't he figure you out!? Why do you smile at him so much? Why do you flirt so much with him? Do you flirt with the others the way you do with him?
That new question made him observe your body language around others and listen carefully to any interaction you had and found nothing but your enchanting witty self. Of course you teased other members, but never so bluntly like the way you flirt with him. The colonel felt weirdly relieved at this. Maybe he liked the attention given? Scratch that, or course not!
One time after a tiring mission in Barcelona, Spain, König approached you with a bottle of water, you thanked him with a wink and he watched you swallow the whole thing before he proceeded to ask you the second question that plagued his mind: "Do you perhaps hide some secret trauma that permanently changed your behaviour, using sarcasm, smirks and jokes to protect your scared inner child in order to not get hurt again?"
"Hmmm... The day I found out my mother was Santa Claus I went bananas, but I wouldn't say it scarred me for life. Do ya want an M&M, colonel?"
He fucking hates you. He hates you. König aggressively snatched a handful of M&M's and stormed away. That night he swore he could hear your laugh echoing inside his head. Why couldn't you leave his fucking mind? What was it with you? Were you doing it on purpose?
_____
You were definitely doing it on purpose.
You have to be patient with König. But he was so hilarious and scary, it thrilled you to watch the two meter tall behemoth of a man walk near you and sneak watchful, calculated glances your way when he thought you weren't looking. If someone dared to ask, you'd easily answer with the honesty everyone knew you posses: You'd fuck König without a thought.
He's so feral in battle, so demanding and intimidating on the comms. His ridiculous voice made him all the more adorable contrasting with his appearance. Oh fuck that. Even his appearance was ridiculous, he looked like the red guy from that creepy show called "Don't hug me, I'm scared" or one of those executioners from the Shrek movie. But he was HOT, with that slutty waist accentuated by his bulky back, those long slender arms that could lift anything on his way, you saw him lift a fucking car a few inches so an injured woman could scape, and as she cried of relief you could feel your pussy crying as well at the sight. And oh his hands... The way he used them, so elegantly but rough, they'd make a beautiful necklace. His voice, as unfitting as it sounded coming from this KorTac monster, made you itch to hear more, his accent was so attractive that it quickly made you addicted to sound of it and your brain pondered on how he'd sound while doing other things. Lucky you, when the stars aligned and you two coincided in the gym you made sure to be close enough to hear the quiet grunts and sighs from the colonel as he trained, to your surprise he never moved away as if he knew what you were doing and thought nothing much of it. Safe to say, you'd gladly eat whatever interaction König graced you with with a speck of salt.
Though, when you begun paying attention to the details (because it was hard to guess his thoughts without seeing his face) You noticed a few things about the colonel that indicated he had a severe case of social anxiety. The way he self isolated, how he forced himself to interact with people resulting in very awkward conversations that led to him coming up as rude to what he got frustrated and scaped the scene, how he loved his job because you were convinced that he thought he was only good at killing. That made you wonder if he had other hobbies... It's funny to imagine a tall, muscly guy like him baking or making origamis.
______
Today you saw the ultimate signal that your big crush wasn't a people's person.
You two were on a meeting with some other KorTac members. König was peeling an apple and had finished it rather quickly as all of you spoke, but he spent ten minutes with the remnants of the fruit slowly browning and drying on his hand, so you decided to test your theory by walking to the near trash can to throw a random paper you crumbled quickly, after a few seconds König abruptly stood up to throw the dried fruit remnant, the tall Austrian glanced your way before he sat again and kept to himself. Okay, so judging by this and how stiff he looks, König doesn't know exactly what to do with his body around people, he needed an excuse to stand up and throw the finished apple so he waited for anyone to use the trash can to go after, BUT he waited a few seconds to stand so he wouldn't look like he was waiting. Must be stressful to be on his shoes. Interesting, but maybe you were overthinking too much, so you decided to do a final test that would definitely tell you if what you thought was right. You didn't want to come to this unless it was really necessary... You'll probably have to apologize later.
You directed all the attention to König by asking a number of things, (obviously work related) that caught the attention of everyone in the room taking the poor colonel by surprise, his cristal blue eyes widened for a minute before he composed himself answering everything you asked with a professional tone until you spotted the tremble on his hands, poor König noticed your attention drift to his hands so he slid them under the table. That's how you knew it. He couldn't handle being the center of attention for prolonged amounts of time. Your poor baby...
You gave him a sympathetic look that again took him by surprise, but by that time König had called the meeting over, gathered his things and walked out before you could approach him.
Damn you and your stupid beautiful voice and worried eyes trying to comfort him discreetly.
Gloved hands fidgeted with the bracelet on his wrist. König remembers the little girl who gifted him said thing. The day him and his team rescued her and some other orphans from a building about to explode, the worried colonel spent a few minutes comforting the little girl until she pulled the orange bracelet from her small SpongeBob backpack, he chuckled at the gesture and had never taken it off since. They even shared some letters from time to time, he held a piece of little Astrid in the form of a cute bracelet and she held a piece of him in the form of sweet spoken letters.
König saw her kind eyes in yours and it squeezed his heart so much he felt suffocated. Why would a teasing little vixen like you have such kind, gorgeous eyes? It was weirdly comforting that someone would look at him so softly like he wasn't a monster for once after so long.
His heart begun beating faster, his head was so full of questions about you it infuriated him. Long legs carried the colonel to the gym absentmindedly, like his body craved to ease some tension, but at the last minute he turned to the left corridor further from the gym, went to the right and finally approached the shooting range's door.
"Scheibe..." König cursed lowly, he could have very well bursted the door out of it's hinges, his gloved hand (still a bit shaky) took his favorite riffle from the top right corner of the shelf while he shot a backward kick to push the metallic door closed. He spent fourteen minutes shooting targets while mauling at your last interaction, rage swirled his insides and yet he couldn't fully hate you for asking questions, after all it was work-related, and the last soft gaze you gave him spoke volumes that you didn't want to advert all the attention to him out of malice. König was reloading his sniper rifle when he heard a gentle thud indicating someone had entered the room.
"You'd make an amazing sniper." You spoke softly trying not to startle him.
"You come to mock me? Laugh all you like. I'm well aware I'm too huge to be a sniper." He spoke in resentment over his shoulder before redirecting his focused gaze to the target ahead.
"I always say size doesn't matter! As long as you know how to handle your weapon, you'll make any girl blush."
Your dark humour takes König by surprise and he misses the dummy's head, he tries to hold back the chuckle that threatened to spill from his hidden lips. Luckily the shirt he wore as a mask shielded his face enough to make it look like he was holding in a cough or a sneeze but you weren't stupid. When he turns to face you placing the riffle to the near table he gets startled by how close you are, the smirk accompanying your lips as you weaseled close to his very sacred personal space made him curse lowly in his mother's tongue. The tall Austrian stepped back and you rose your hands in mocking defeat.
"Alright, I get it, personal space. Jus' wanted to hear ya laugh..."
"I didn't." He hisses.
"Didn't ya? I thought I heard it, must have been the wind."
Your sarcasm often infuriated König who never seemed to get a good grip on his English, so it was hard for him to detect when you were being serious or just pulling his leg. His hands flex on his sides, tiny waist move side to side as he balances his weight before he crosses his arms and leans his back to the wall. König raises a brow when your smirk morphed into a sincere apologetic smile as you admired his stance six feet apart from him.
"I'm sorry for what happened back there." You said honestly, he sucked in a breath. "Didn't want t' put ya on the spot."
The Colonel's cerulean eyes widen in surprise before directing his gaze to your tank top blinking rapidly. It was easier to listen if he wasn't looking directly at your eyes. "König..." Your voice was honey making shivers run up his spine and his skin erupt in goosebumps, his hands trembled even when he fisted them on his crossed stance. "Why don't we start again? Call me paranoid, but I feel like there's tension between us and not the type I'd like."
König wasn't shy, he wasn't, but that last line of yours made him feel like it, and it wasn't an ugly feeling? But it was a little uncomfortable, foreign, it squeezed his heart in a suffocating way, his hands were clammy, he felt weirdly light like if it wasn't for his tapping foot on the floor he'd float away. König understood what you were saying and it comforted him that you were on the same page, the weird unsteadiness between the two of you becoming rather unbearable and a constant topic on both your minds, it was relieving that you thought the same way. Suddenly the ugly anger he had for you quieted down.
The colonel lifted his hand your way offering you a handshake you took with mirth.
"I'm colonel König. Y-you are...?"
"Goddamn. Ain't your parents bit' egotistical? Namin' their baby boy 'king' in their native language." You say with a snicker shaking his hand. He takes it back abruptly but you don't flinch. "I'm Sargeant (c/n). My name is (y/n) (l/n). Is König the name written on your birth certificate or were you called somethin' else?" You press.
König is taken aback by this. When was the last time someone had asked the colonel his name?
"I am..." It tasted foreign on his tongue, like he had forgotten the sound of it, the taste of his own name on his tongue. "My name is Andreas Dobler. That's... That's my name." His name wasn't König, he remembers the man he left behind all those years back, the man under the dark cloak. Before things went to shit, before becoming colonel König.
"Andreas. What a curious name, never heard of it-"
"Say my name again." König interrupts. His voice weak but demanding and desperate. He loved it. He loved the sound of his name on your lips. It was strange, sweet... Arousing, even.
You blinked angling your head up to take a better look at his half-lid eyes. This time König didn't look away, your eyes met and suddenly the ugly tension from before was morphing into another type of tension, your heart beats faster in sync with his. You didn't know you were getting closer until König placed a hand on your waist and then the other, not pushing, not pulling, he simply laid them there and it came so naturally, your playful smile wavered slightly as your hands landed on his shoulders, he shivers. You tilted your head to the side and he was so lost in you, your aroma, your eyes, your lips, your touch, he didn't realize he was returning the head tilt.
Your lips parted, pink tongue darting to hydrate your dry lips until your pearls were visible from the gap, and his eyes catch every movement your mouth makes when you whisper "Andreas."
"Again."
"Andreas-"
"Again..."
"...Andreas..." Your hands slowly move to his chest, his breath hitches. His name has never sounded so sensual whispered by anyone's mouth. You were... You...
"You..." He isn't sure what to say. You are not sure either, suddenly your wit has abandoned you it seems. "You intrigue me." He decides to huff out, accent heavily pronounced.
There's a thousand thoughts swirling on König's mind, he has shared his name but it suddenly didn't feel enough, he wanted to show you who he was, his past, his thoughts, his hopes and dreams, even his face. How can a simple woman like you make König feel so much? Because you were no simple woman. That's why when he felt your small hands slide up his chest to the hem of the shirt that composed his mask, König didn't tense up, in fact, his shoulders relaxed embracing the touch of your fingers gently feeling his neck under the cloth, his stubble, his chin, his high cheeks... Gloved hands grab your wrists.
You stop, still looking up at him noticing the heaving of his chest and how lost in awe his gaze seemed.
"Not yet?"
"I-i... Do not..." Mind. He didn't want to refuse your touch but at the same time it was so overwhelming.
You give a small nod, König lets go of your wrists and you take this opportunity to nuzzle his cheeks, he gasps landing his hands on your waist once more, squeezing the flesh over your tank top. The feeling of your fingers on his face was so foreign it felt like you were touching a piece of his soul.
"Don't you worry, darling..." König lets out a small whimper at this. "I'm rushing things ain' I? We were just getting on the first name basis and I had to screw it all..." You wanted to sound apologetic, you promise, but it was so hard when your colonel was practically purring at the feeling of your soft hands scratching his stubble.
König was putty on your hands, he has never felt this way. His cheeks burn in embarrassment, he tries to move back but remembers he's already against the wall, and you, a small thing like you have him cornered like a honey badger hunting a lion. His lip wobbles and he tilts his head to the side as he feels your hands massage and explore his neck and jaw in long, gentle motions.
"Shy lil' thing... Aren't you pretty hiding under there? Maybe you are too beautiful to allow anyone the pleasure of a simple look. Like a sweet Ferrero Roche firmly wrapped and ready to be eaten." You whisper, voice raspy before you chuckle when his Adam's apple bobs with a swallow. Your body is now pressed compleatly against his, your dear colonel's hands tremble on your sides as he fists your tank top. He's nervous, he's shy, but you know he is enjoying this judging by the way his teary, half-lid eyes blink slowly every time you feel a new inch of skin.
"...Sag bitte mehr, ich flehe dich an..." (Say more please, I beg you.) König moans out, his german accent so strong masking how weak he was feeling at the moment.
He loved your voice, your touch... Your everything. The colonel ran his fingers on your lower back encouraging to continue, meanwhile he very slowly tilted his head higher allowing you more space on his neck to massage and scratch. You chuckle darkly feeling his member poking at your belly, your body instantly pressing harder against his cornered torso.
"You like the sound of my voice, colonel?" You humm, he makes a small noise. "Andreas...?"
His shoulders shake with the force of his shiver, nails digging deliciously on your lower back, you chuckle delighted at the sight tilting his chin to the other side to feel his nape, his ear and some locks of hair. "ich begehre dich..." The Austrian groans, his member now fully erect twitched delighted by the delicious pressure of your torso against it and your soft ministrations to his neck.
Both your radios churr alive until a voice breaks the static, a random operator checking on the comms. König almost knocks you over with how fast he straightened his back and the way his strong grip held you back, his chest heaving fast, eyes wide and vulnerable. You take the opportunity to grab him by the hem of the shirt he uses as a mask.
"Wait-..."
König freezes when he feels cold air hit the heated skin from his neck. You had lifted a portion of the cloth revealing the part you were previously massaging, caressing and scratching. His head moves up to the side trying to hide from your touch, his hands shoot backwards planting on the wall as if a force had taken them from the previous grip he had on you.
"I hope you can forgive me colonel... Can't help it..."
There's a long gash on his neck, a very old scar that seemed to be product of a knife fight or even a bullet, it's crocked and it goes up probably to his right ear. You lean close on tiptoes because he couldn't crouch due to how shocked he still felt, and you planted your wet lips on the surface of the sensitive scar. König's throat rumbles with a groan, his powerful hands finally make the move to take you, to cage your body impossible closer to his. A hard roll of his hips make him gasp in relief and you loudly huff when he handles you to where he was previously caged, his hands soon making small effort to lift you up, both legs wrapped around his waist and he THRUSTS. You are still kissing, licking and nibbling his neck, your hands exploring the long bulky surface of his back, König moans delighted at one particular bite until-
"Shit."
König turned his head back so fast you are sure his neck is rotatory, two pairs of eyes look in shock at Horangi who is standing there holding the rifle König had previously left before all of this happened. Your colonel was frozen in embarrassment his shaking hands still held you up and his boner was no longer stabbing you, the thing died at the speed of light.
"Jesus Christ. You gonna keep staring or you wanna join us, tiger?"
König snaps his head back at you comically fast, icy eyes glare in surprise, horror and astonishment.
"As fun as that sounds I'll leave you two to your games... 'sides, I don't think you'll be able to handle König alone, imagine the two of us. We'd ruin you." The Korean's response made you laugh enchanted with his wit, he walked out the door in quick strides leaving you two alone once more.
König huffs glaring at the wall behind you. The sudden unwelcome presence of his friend seemed to had robbed the magic from the moment. Your Colonel's body shagged slowly lowering your body, and the moment your heels touched the ground his head leaned down falling to the crock of your neck, the feeling of the warm cloth of his mask made you humm. He kissed your clavicle over his mask and you ran your hands to his shoulders until König slowly retrieved.
He took two steps back, with a very noticeable defeated look.
"Hey. We can keep going whenever yer up to. Don't look at me like that, sweet thing." Your voice carried a playfulness that comforted him from the sudden feeling of defeat.
König couldn't meet your eyes, his voice was shaky "I'm just not like this-..."
"Andreas-"
"DON'T -...!" He barked, startling you both.
It was too much, too sudden, too weird, too suffocating. He liked it at first but... König couldn't put into words what he was feeling right now. He hated that the moment was cut short, he hated that he felt like it was his fault and he hated the way you are looking at him with so much concern like when you two were at the meeting.
"Verzeihen Sie mir." He muttered giving you a final short glance before he rushed out of the place leaving the door open and your startled self still leaning on the wall.
You recognized those words even if you didn't know much of German.
"Forgive me." You translated in a whisper.
Will you?
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dinosaur-mayonnaise · 7 months
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three way emails are so ANNOYING
you add a third person and suddenly none of the regular social rules apply.
and don't even get me STARTED on cc's. i can never be a corporate girlie bc to me these are the horrors.
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pinkduck3016 · 7 months
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living with other people will always be some kind of hell, but my roommate is being a special type of annoying this week
#never opens the blinds and wakes up too late for me to ask to open them#I have trees for my mom and guess what#THEY NEED SUNLIGHT ms. horticulture minor!!!#I can tell she's pissed at me for opening them when she's not here but I don't care#also she poured her ramen in the sink and that clogged it#I managed to get so it doesn't take like two minutes to drain after washing my hands but you can still see the noodles in the drain#we're on break right now and she left for home so I'll bring it up after but if it starts smelling I'm going to yell at her#she always calls her parents/sisters/friends and talks to them all evening but last night she left to call them elsewhere#does that mean she's complaining about me? I don't think so but also I don't really care because she is so damn loud all the time#the tv must be blaring constantly she must be laughing at the funniest things imaginable I swear#like babe..... do they have headphones in whatever pensyltucky town you're from#she lost her left one earlier in the year but even before that she would call people without them#at that point it's just privacy to me like I don't want you hearing what my friends are saying#I can just go yeah or uh huh and it's fine#why do you want a whole other person hearing everything#it's not like I don't try to block it out but I can still hear it through my earbuds ON NOISE CANCELLATION#we've maybe had like 3 conversations since moving in but I already know enough about this girl to dislike her strongly
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churipu · 2 months
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JJK MEN REACTING TO YOU GETTING LEFT OUT BY YOUR FRIENDS 𓆝 ⋆。𖦹°‧
ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, sukuna ryomen, inumaki toge.
ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. just jjk men being overprotective of you bye, and cursing.
note. guysssss, no requests pls, they're not open :(( and if you sent one in, i apologize but they're going to take a bit of time to do :(
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𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
before you did — gojo had already sensed that your friends were shit. believe me when i say that he has tried talking to you about it from the moment you introduced him to them during your weekly "girls night".
but you said that your friends were fine. gojo doesn't think so. ever since that day, every time you said you were going out with your friends; he came along with you, not leaving you out of his sight.
that includes today. your "girls night" or whatever — when you try to convince gojo that he didn't need to come with, but all he said was, "i am one of the girls, aren't i?"
so he came along. and he didn't regret it. not. one. bit.
your friends, he didn't even know how to describe them without slipping in a curse or two. because he couldn't believe you were actually friends with these douchebags. it was plain obvious they were leaving you out on purpose.
whenever you try to chime in the conversation, your voice is immediately toppled over by one of them. or when you try to walk beside them, they step a bit further — on purpose. he could tell.
the male was really glad he could smell the stench from a long time ago. so when you and him were walking behind them, fingers interlocked. he stopped walking, and it made you stop too, "what's wrong, 'toru?"
"let's go," he tugged you in the opposite direction from where your friends are walking to, "they don't deserve you."
the male was very upset for you. he wasted no time driving you home with him, giving you the love you deserved (and a pep talk on why you should never ever talk to your friends again).
𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
toji didn't even care whether he knows your friends or not. but when you convinced him that they wanted to meet him, he agreed (begrudgingly).
and everything went south when he noticed the different way they react to you — and to him. you and your friends were a trio.
it's always a trio. he never gets it, he's seen his fair share of shitty friendships among people. that's why he doesn't have friends (or people don't want to befriend him, doesn't matter).
it wasn't even a trio any more. it was a duo, with you on the side. toji noticed the subtle way they share a look to each other whenever you start talking — or the way they nudge each other when you do something. god, it pisses him off.
he swore if you weren't there, he'd resort to violence.
when you excuse yourself to go to the restroom, toji of course takes the chance to give a small talk (straight up threatening) to them. he waved to you vaguely as you walk towards the direction of the restroom.
"don't ever fucking talk to my partner again after this. y'hear me?"
the mood plummeted and you realized after you came back from the restroom. but you said nothing about it.
and like toji threatened, your friends never talked or contacted you ever again. which obviously saddened you — but the male told you how shitty they are and that it was a good thing they're not talking to you anymore.
to this day, you still didn't know it was toji behind it all.
𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍
he has no shame in speaking his mind. and he immediately sensed how your friends were treating you differently from the first time he sees them. the male wastes no time giving them the eyes, where he was clearly telling them to fuck off.
when you and your friends (and him) decided to take a break inside a restaurant, he was pissed. sukuna, didn't even want to come with at the first place — he actually forced himself to come for you. he wanted to make sure your friends knew their place.
he has a bold tongue. sukuna is spicy with his words, he could care less about what people think of him. so the second he hears a disrespectful comment from either one of your friends directed to you to make you feel like you're the odd one out, the male glowered at them.
"mind repeating that?" he questions calmly, but something in his voice was intimidating. as if he was about to jump up from his seat and strangle the hell out of your friends.
of course, your friends were silent. afraid of him.
"exactly." the male stood up, tugging you along with him out of the restaurant, "what friends you have."
you were embarrassed at the comment, and sukuna sensed that too. even if he was tempted to say more things about your friends — he held back. for you.
"you don't need friends. what more do you need than me?"
𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄
believe me when i say that he contemplated using his cursed speech technique on your friends. he had seen you come back from a night out with your friends, upset and teary eyed.
and from that day, he's always hated them. so when you said that you were going to hang out with them again — inumaki followed you, trailing after you like a lost puppy.
actually — scratch that, you were the lost puppy. trailing after your friends, behind them like you aren't even a part of the group. if it weren't for inumaki being there, it would just be you alone.
inumaki mutters out a lot of, "salmon" and "tuna mayo" to you. fuming.
you grabbed his hand, swinging it happily. at this point, you didn't even care about your friends — as long as inumaki was there, you didn't feel alone like you used to. so you did what you had to do since long ago.
ditch them.
"thank you for being here, toge."
inumaki was happy now, no longer in a foul mood, and he squeezed your hand, "tuna mayo!"
a little translation: "i'm hungry."
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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chikaras-garden · 8 months
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Batboys as your sugar daddy
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What’s the point of all this money if you don’t have someone to spend it on?
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Pairings: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake x fem!reader
Contains: Sugar daddies. Possessive, controlling men. Power imbalances. They’re all a little toxic. These relationships are not aspirational babes. Oral sex (f!receiving) in Dick’s.
Notes: 18+ or you’ll be blocked.
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BRUCE WAYNE 💋
“Wear the diamonds,” Bruce rumbles from behind you, lips right next to the shell of your ear. Before you can answer, his warm hands are already on your throat, and cool platinum touches your skin. A hundred diamonds arranged in three dainty layers sparkle in the low light of Bruce’s bedroom, clinging tightly to your neck.
With the choker clasped in place, one of Bruce’s hands traces up and down your neck while the other rests heavily on your hip, holding you flush against his chest. His touch is hypnotic, pulling you in like a planet pulls a moon into orbit. Your whole world revolves around him—and that’s exactly how he likes it.
But like the moon, the subtle gravitational pull you have on him keeps him in place, keeps him stable, calms his most wicked of storms.
He bows his head. The way he looks at you through his eyelashes is almost reverent while he kisses your bare shoulder, skin interrupted only by your dress’s hair-thin silk strap.
“Beautiful,” he says, and you know he’s not talking about the necklace, the dress, or any of the other jewels and silks he’s drowned you in over the last year.
When your eyes meet in the mirror, one corner of his lips quirks up into a smirk, which he buries under a kiss to your jaw. 
There, with a quick, sharp nip of his teeth, he lays his claim. “And all mine.”
DICK GRAYSON 💋
Dick’s on his knees, head buried between your legs when you hear—feel—him say, “I need you to take a week off work.”
Well. What he really needs is for you to just quit your job already, but you got upset the last time he suggested it. Baby steps. For now.
“Why?” you gasp, blinking hard as you try to focus on the fact that he’s starting a conversation now when his tongue is making you smart and shake with pleasure.
“I want to go to the Maldives,” he says as if it’s the most inconsequential thing in the world, as if he’s saying he wants to go across town, not across the world.
His tongue flattens out and dips into your weeping hole, and your thighs tighten around his head in response. He groans, and you choke out, “A week for the Maldives?”
You feel his lips twist and curve around you, paired with a little graze of teeth; he’s smiling, and the sensation makes you dizzy. There it is, he wants to say. You want more. Finally, your expectations are starting to match his bank account.
But he decides to play the dumb, pretty boyfriend he likes to make people think he is. “You don’t think it’s enough time? Wanna take two weeks?”
“I don’t have the—” He kisses up to your clit and gives it a tentative little suck, which makes you fist his hair. “—vacation days.”
“Why don’t you just take them without pay?” he proposes as his tongue laves up your swollen sex. “It’ll be okay, just this once. You’ll feel so much better after some time off; I promise.”
JASON TODD 💋
Jason is currently scrutinizing the contents of your pantry, a box of macaroni and cheese in his hand. After seeing the scowl on his face, you’re not surprised when he starts to lecture you. “You eat this crap?”
You raise a brow because he’s one to judge. “I’ve seen you eat an entire party box of tacos.”
“I’m not you,” he fires back. His voice is still low, still calm, but you can sense an edge in his tone; this conversation is about a lot more than boxed macaroni and cheese.
In the beat of silence that follows, his heated gaze dulls to a smolder. “You don’t know how precious you are.”
You open your mouth to reply, but whatever retort you were going to argue back with is silenced when Jason’s big hands cup your face, tilting your head up so he can kiss your forehead. He lingers there, and you feel him tremble. His breath is ragged, rough—as if he’s afraid.
“I’m not you,” he repeats in a whisper. It’s like he’s talking to a child, like he knows you don’t know any better. Poor little you—you need him. “Just let me take care of you like always, okay? How about I sign you up for one of those meal prep kits? No more processed food; it’s not good for you.”
When he pulls you against his chest and strokes your hair, you feel yourself nod, unable to disagree. You know he’s right, after all; and isn’t it sweet that he treats you like a delicate angel even though he’s seen the worst of the world? That nothing without his stamp of approval is good enough for you?
TIM DRAKE 💋
“Oh, you’re all set,” your manicurist smiles at you as soon as you take out your wallet, nails freshly done. 
Caught off guard, all you can reply with is, “Huh?”
She just smiles a little brighter, and there’s a sparkle of something in her eyes. It looks a little wistful, but also a little vapid—is that jealousy? “Your boyfriend paid already,” she explains as her eyes not-so-subtly look around, trying to catch a glimpse of said boyfriend, but you’re just as surprised as she is.
“For the next year,” she adds in a dry tone. Slowly, you drop your wallet back into your purse. There’s only one man alive who could figure out where you get your nails done, what day and time you like your appointments, and call ahead to pay off your manicures for the next year without you ever finding out about it.
So when you get back to your car, you call him.
“Do anything fun today?” he asks over the phone, pretending to be way more innocent than he actually is.
“Tim—”
“Actually,” he cuts in, and you hear a bashful tremor in his voice. That tremor makes your stomach do flips, which beckons you to give in to whatever he wants. “I was just thinking about you. You’ve got the prettiest hands.”
“Tim—”
“Let’s go shopping later,” he rambles on, completely ignoring you. “I think you need some new jewelry. You’d like a new set of rings, wouldn’t you?”
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🔖: @mrs-kurooo; @lovely-loren05
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signedkoko · 3 months
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Could I get a Mammon, Vox and Husk with a S/O who gets harassed on the street and their reaction? You can have full creative control over what type of harassment!
I love your fics- if this isn’t getting the creative juices flowing just let me know and I’ll request something different <3
🦷 anon
Husk | Mammon | Vox [Romantic]
In which some loathsome idiot thinks they'll get away with harassing their beloved s/o.
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One of your favourite date nights is spent bar hopping
Pop a drink or two in each one, sometimes sharing one cocktail, his wing draped around you, your head leant on his shoulder, humming to the music surrounding you
Both of you had a preference for the less popular spots, the kinds of places you got the weirdest combinations, where he could be inspired and you could give him thoughts
The plus side of the smaller joints was that the music was never too loud, drinks were cheaper, and there was always a few spots free at the bar
Downside was that most places had their regulars, the kind of people who couldn't get in anywhere else
The kind of desperation that builds and spreads like mold in the corner of a dark room next to a leaky pipe
On a few occasions, someone would harmlessly ask to buy you a drink and would turn tail when Husk gave them his usually 'fuck off' look
But this time, the guy would just not get the hint
" What? Already claimed dibs on the bitch? "
Yeah- no, that attitude towards you is not going to fly
Not even three seconds and there's a bottle smashed on the drunk demons head, and three cards flying back into Husk's hand
That's when the bleeding starts
You slap a 20 down for your bill and jump straight up, already being dragged by Husk out the door
Insists if he stayed there you would have both gotten banned anyways, and he likes that spot
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You guys don't really go out so casually without a good reason, or just for old times sake
A sin and his spouse on a city street in greed was just asking for bad things to happen
But still, if you asked and he had nothing that day, Mammon would always rather get quality time with you and people watch
Thats most of your conversation, pointing out demons and joking about what you think they are like, what the do, how they speak
It's always a fun game, until some newcomer saw you laughing at him and marched right up, clearly on something and clearly ready to have a go at someone
The moment he reaches for your wrist, his thumb falls to the floor, a messy and jagged cut the only sign of attack besides one of Mammons spider legs now revealed
Before he can even realize the pain or what's happened, Mammon lets out a menacing laugh
" Every extra inch towards my broad is another finger. "
That demon was already screaming and running away, most the crowd on the street that was watching now hurrying in any direction opposite of you and Mammon
" I'm only worth one finger? "
" Nah. Just being generous for once. "
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Not really a street guy, but unfortunately some press conferences and events require mingling and interacting with others, which he never liked
Thankfully, with you he has an excuse to stay away from others, or show you off
He usually goes for the latter
He's all 'Have you met my wife?' 'My wife loves x and y!' 'Isn't my wife absolutely gorgeous?'
You are the first topic he speaks of after his company; you'd be the first if he didn't have to waste so much time being a salesman, but that is how the cookie crumbles
Sometimes when there's specific press releases, he has to send you off for a moment, where you usually go and mingle with some of the others in his industry you befriended
During one such interview, he couldn't help but spot out the corner of his eye, some lousy business woman drape her arm around your waist and grab at your hip
" Sorry yeah, this interview is over. "
Literally shoves his way over, sparks and electricity flying, to rip you out of her arms
" Baaabe, is this a friend? Whatever the case, we really gotta get going! "
Jealousy 3000
He's glad he stepped in after he overhears that lady had a habit of harassing other attendees
New clause in every interview; they have to include you or provide security over you while he is busy
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Author's Note - Tooth anon comes in for another PIPIN HOT request!! I actually feel so bad because every time I take a break form writing is on yoru request and that really makes it look bad I am so sorry 😩
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thebeesatemyknees · 8 months
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141 as ex-husbands
Some ex-husband (ooc) Simon Ghost Riley, John Price, Kyle Gaz Garrick and Johnny Soap MacTavish x reader headcanons.
Word count: 860 || No warnings (let me know if any). || Reader: gender neutral. Pronouns: "you"
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Note: In all four scenarios, you got divorced for fairly harmless reasons. You were getting along, you loved each other, there was no fighting. But perhaps you realised that you both have different hopes for the future. Maybe you got sick of waiting for him, missing him, of worrying if he's gonna come home alive and in one piece. Maybe he didn't realise how lonely you felt beside him.
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Ex-husband Simon Riley, who still thinks of you as "his", but not in a possessive way. You're still his person, his family. He still would do anything for you and wouldn't even give it a second thought. 
You need help assembling new furniture? He can come by after work. Need a ride to the doctor's appointment? He needed to run some errands anyway, it's not a big deal. Anything happens while he's deployed? You can call his base and he'll contact you as soon as possible.
And he doesn't expect anything back. How could he? He's gonna do anything for you because that's what you're supposed to do for your people. And he'll give you your space, keep it clean between you. You wanted a divorce and he respects that, doing his best not to overstep any boundaries. He's mindful of the things he says, keeps his hands away from you. A respectful distance.
But God, does he miss you. If you showed the slightest interest in getting back together, he would agree immediately, going back to what you two had, as if the divorce never happened. 
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Ex-husband John Price, who kinda forgets that you're not married anymore. Similar to Simon, John still thinks of you as his and would do anything for you without expecting anything back. 
But you often have to remind him that he's overstepping. "Darling" or "love" casually added to his sentences. Hands gently holding your shoulders or hips while he directs you to move to a different spot. He doesn't do it on purpose. The last thing he'd want is to disrespect your boundaries or make you uncomfortable. But keeping you close just comes so naturally to him.
He apologises quietly when you reprimand him, pulling his hands away and restating what he said without the pet name this time.
He wouldn't beg you to give him another chance. He's got enough respect, towards you and himself, to not be dramatic, to not make it messy. But he has a hard time accepting this new reality.
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Ex-husband Kyle Garrick, who subconsciously goes back to courting you, as if your marriage never happened and all of it was still ahead of you. 
He's more distant, doesn't initiate touches, doesn't use pet names anymore. And at first you think it's because that's just how break-ups work, because he'd moved on. But it all seems to be caused by him suddenly becoming almost shy around you. 
He sends you messages from time to time, checking if you're doing alright. He asks you out for coffee, just to catch up. You ended things on good terms, so there's no harm in it, right? And you can see him trying to act casually about it. He brings you one singular flower he picked on his way to the café. Cuz you like them, don't you? It's not a big deal, he saw it and put it in the pocket of his jacket. So casual. Then, your conversation stays on a purely platonic path. Well, except for a few compliments and pick up lines he throws your way. But that's what friends do! And if you don't let him drive you home, he asks you to at least text him to let him know you got back safely.
If you confront him about his behaviour, he gets quiet. His jaw twitches, a shameful look fills his eyes as he looks away, unable to fully face you. He doesn't feel like he's in the position to defend himself, to argue. He's guilty. He wants you back for himself. And he so badly regrets letting you go without trying harder to fix things.
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Ex-husband Johnny MacTavish, who becomes bitter towards the whole world. He's not happy about losing you and he's straightforward about it. He's hurt, filled with regrets, he's angry - but not directly at you. He understands and respects your wishes, but he's just so angry with himself. Angry that he didn't notice where your marriage was going, that he didn't change his ways, that he assumed that you're his and therefore he's got a lot of time to slowly fix things. Angry that he didn't do enough. 
He wouldn't hide his emotions. He wouldn't get shy,  wouldn't just quietly yearn for you. 
He keeps his hands to himself, making sure he doesn't make you uncomfortable and that you still feel safe around him. But he continuously asks you for another chance. He knows better now. He can be better. Just give him a chance. Or at least let him do this or that for you. And don't act as if him helping you is weird! He's yours, nothing will change that. He promised he'd be there in sickness and in health, and he meant it. No matter how much your life-paths split. So stop pushing him away and just let him help. He'll stop asking you for a second chance, but at least let him be there for you.
He aggressively offers himself to you. Getting upset and moody if you act as if he was more akin to a stranger rather than someone who belonged, body and soul, to you.
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valent1neg0d · 3 months
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THINGS I WISH I KNEW WHEN I WAS GETTING STARTED WITH THE LAW OF ASSUMPTION (AS SOMEONE WHO HAS BEEN MANIFESTING FOR 5 YEARS)
1. the law of assumption is personal. considering how we have different sets of experiences, different environments, different upbringings, and even different languages, we have different assumptions.
because of this, we are affected by teachings and success stories differently. it's important to note this since a lot of manifestation coaches will teach you about the law in a way that worked for them (and the others they may have taught) but it's possible that their advice (even my own) may not be the best for you. even abdullah and neville goddard, two of the people who are known to start this discipline, may have ancient or varied belief systems and techniques. this is normal considering the world they lived in before is different from the world we live in now.
although, you should still read on abdullah and neville because they will teach you the basics and they will help you understand the foundations of the law.
as an example, you might manifest your dream career faster with simple affirmation techniques but a coach may have taught you to focus on visualization techniques.
even the idea that "dominant THOUGHTS manifest" or "what you BELIEVE in manifests" is entirely up to you.
note: notice how i said "may not be the best for you" instead of "may not work for you". any technique can, does, and will work.
how i learned this: when i was learning about the law, i mainly focused on neville's teachings because he was one of the most prominent figures in the practice. and though i liked his practical techniques (especially mental diet and inner conversations), there were some beliefs that i do not agree with e.g. divine timing, appointed hour, avoiding "does not" "is not" "will not".
when i was going through sammy ingrams' takes, she said that it's better to have concise affirmations/short list (non-verbatim) than a long list of 25+ affirmations. but going through affirmations without being specific about them doesn't personally resonate with me and that's just because i'm a detail-oriented person (also a writer).
what i can advise:
learn about different approaches
a. through scientific concepts. e.g. quantum physics, reticular activating system, cognitive reframing, cognitive behavioral therapy, the psychology of placebo effect, the psychology of affirmations, Baader-Meinhof phenomenon (a.k.a. the psychology of self-fulfilling prophecy)
b. through religious and/or spiritual concepts. e.g. passages from the Bible, passages from the Quran, deity work, spells and rituals
c. through self-development. e.g. identity-based habit
start the practice with an identity you like in the present or an identity that you resonate with (learning style, talents, interests, etc.)
examples:
-visual learner = vision boards
-loves writing = scripting
-words of affection love language = affirmations
take teachings with a grain of salt. do not limit yourself and do not allow other people to limit you. experiment with concepts, ideas, and techniques, and have fun with them.
2. techniques are only reminders. you are manifesting either by thinking, feeling, or acting out your desires. you are manifesting every second of the day either with your thoughts, emotions, or by embodying a state. you are only being intentional when you anchor techniques.
note: it is true that your dominant thoughts manifest. it is also true that what you believe in manifests, the same way that your inner knowing manifests. BUT these ideas are meant to empower you. they are meant to remind you that manifestation is as easy as thinking, feeling, acting, believing, understanding, deciding, etc. if an idea doesn't feel good to you, it doesn't have to be an ultimate truth you embrace and carry on with. this is the same with techniques.
what i can advise:
choose one technique and practice it for 7 to 21 days. it can be mental diet, affirmation tapes, sats, mind movies, etc. as long as you can persist with it. give it time. give it time. give it time. in other aspects of the world, you give change some time. when you're calcium deficient and you decide to drink calcium supplements, you realize that it's counterproductive to ask "why am i still calcium deficient?" as soon as you start your regimen because you know your body is changing with the supplement and you put your trust into it. after all, why would you choose a supplement you have no faith on? you just give it time.
note: you can still manifest changes to be instant. you can affirm "i am seeing results now", "results come immediately", "my manifestation is quick". the amount of time you're using a technique does not equate to the amount of time your results will come.
the reason why i encourage you to practice for maximum 21 days is so you can fully explore and master the technique you chose. with the abundance of topics and methods discussed in social media, switching and trying new things is tempting. now, there is nothing wrong with this. it's just that, you wouldn't be able to take a step back and reflect on what worked and what takes more effort when you change techniques every so often.
try a technique that is popularized in the media. a lot of the times, the reason why this technique gained traction is either because it's simple or because it has worked for a lot of people. now, here's the thing: if said technique wasn't for you, at least you can say "oh this is a tiktok/twitter/youtube/old/beginner technique, there are other techniques out there" and you can try another technique with less resistance. but, if it did work, then it did. congratulations.
you can invent your own. here are some techniques that i invented throughout the years.
a. "name is set and solid with the fact that..." - works amazing for sp, getting people to commit, getting people to pursue you
b. "okay! manifestation powers go brrr!" - funny but i do this when I'm spiraling; it also helps me surrender doubts and i think it's because it's so simple and unserious lmao
you can combine them. for example, you want to do sats but you cannot hold a vision for long, what you can do is montage photos or videos that is similar to the vision you want to manifest. you can also have affirmation tapes running in the background.
3. "concept" work can be such a banger. assumptions are basically the conception about the world, about yourself, about the people around you. hence, when you manifest and apply the law of assumption, you change or reinforce a conception.
these can be done through:
self-concept
what it is: your awareness about yourself; the way you perceive yourself.
how you can apply it: there are multiple ways to establish your self-concept but the best way, is to start reinforcing the universal truth: that you are inherently worthy. you deserve money and resources because you are worthy. you deserve love because you are worthy. you deserve ease because you are worthy.
other ways to grow your self-concept is celebrating the identities you have within yourself that you like e.g. that you are strong, you are disciplined, you are beautiful. be careful about strongly tying yourself into these identities though because these are not the reasons why you shall receive. again, you shall receive because you are inherently worthy.
why it works: by having a strong self-concept, you develop ease. you are less likely to rationalize or question the law or why you deserve the things you're asking for. and as you may think, rationalizing may be a form of resistance. questioning may be a form of resistance.
one of the ways i have seen this is when people receive incentives from work, instead of just receiving or saying "thank you", they say things like "what have i done to receive this?", sometimes completely rejecting this gift because of fear that they might lose something when they receive. this can be an example of a weak self-concept. consequently, the company starts questioning "did my employer really do enough to receive this?".
on the other hand, someone with a strong self-concept can take this incentive and buy the things they like because they know they deserve it. they can also take this incentive and say to themselves "oh it's because i worked hard these past few days". it's the knowing and confidence they have within themselves that everything around them has no other option but to recognize.
conception of other things (e.g. of love, of money, of a specific person)
you can work on your conception of other things the same way you work on your self-concept: choosing a narrative that is uplifting to you.
in case you have resistance to a specific object, you can also listen to people's success stories to start shifting to a more positive and desirable perception. one of the ways i do this is by going back to abdullah and neville's story. these two men lived at difficult times, through difficult eras, yet they manifested their desires. they managed to let go of the 3D.
4. practice some distance as you're starting. you were exposed to a different life before the law, it's only normal and human to have doubts or spiral once in a while. however, when you set distance on things that do not help you embody the state, you set distance on things that will feed your doubts and spiraling.
for example, if you're shifting to a state of wealth and you're affirming "i have 1,000 dollars". it's unhelpful and opposing to be constantly surrounded by someone else saying "you only have 10 dollars".
now, i do understand that not everyone can do this right away because of circumstances. but PLEASE do whatever you can to set this distance. find a voice to reinstate your truth.
a personal story, i am an asian girl living with a grandmother who was pessimistic about love because her two children (my mom and my aunt) struggled with it. because of this, she used to constantly remind me of how love is difficult. i didn't know this at the time, but this created a set of beliefs in my head. consequently, as a teenager, i only seeked and allowed love which was difficult because that was all i've ever known. that was all my assumption.
but around the pandemic, i went back to the countryside with my dad where i had a lot of time on my own. this was when i got deep into new-age spirituality and did shadow work. from here, i realized: this is not my assumption about love. before my parents broke up, my assumption was that love is easy. you only have to make the other person laugh. when i was busy in school and would spend most of the time at my friend's house, my assumption was that love is support and light. i started to get these epiphanies that a lot of my pessimistic perception was because of someone i was constantly surrounded with and that i have to build new assumptions.
but around august 2020, i have to go back to the city with my grandmom. i was afraid of the toll i might get into when i got back. however, because i already practiced distance and understood what are the assumptions that serve me, what are the assumptions that i want, i was more at peace. i listed down affirmations about myself, about love, about money, about being "deserving".
after this, every time she told me what love was, i can stop her and say no. i can tell her that it's not the universal truth, and certainly not mine. along the way, i started manifesting that she believes love is easy and supportive. i started manifesting that she believes i deserve love that is soft and tender.
then, when i got into my relationship, she was nothing but happy and supportive.
other ways i have practiced distance while manifesting:
unfollowing content creators who normalized hating men.
unfollowing content creators who were shady and negative about relationships.
unfriending highschool guy friends who do not make me feel safe about men.
unfriending relatives who make unnecessary comments about my looks, my studies, my relationship, and my earnings.
unfollowing girls who made me feel bad about also liking girls.
unfollowing manifestation gurus who romanticize struggles because "the more you struggle, the more you get blessed"
unfollowing manifestation gurus who say stuff like "if you want money, you have to take action to deserve it. not just manifesting"
now, you can totally manifest these people to change and be better, as long as it will make you feel good.
that's all i can share today (since this post is already getting long). i hope you learned a thing or two. thank you so much for reading. i love you and i appreciate you !
xo
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leaderwonim · 2 months
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i’m just a teenage dirtbag baby ( like you. )
based on this edit !!
pairing. troublemaker!nishimura riki x goody-two-shoes!fem!reader
summary. nishimura riki was infamous for being handsome and also quite the character. he’d purposely throw papers everywhere, bump into people without a care, and ditch class like it was nothing. you were the complete opposite, but deep down, nishimura riki knew you were just like him
warnings. cursing, smoking, riki destroys someone’s private property 😭, riki is your typical teenage dirtbag, he also calls her sweets
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“Hey.”
Nishimura Riki slides onto the seat right next to yours, blinking twice as much as he should be. You knew it was one of his teasing habits, meant to make you shift uncomfortably under his gaze.
“What do you want Nishimura?”
He puts his hand over his chest, pretending he’s wounded by your words. “Nishimura? We’re on last name basis sweets?”
“Shut up,” you say, pushing his face away with your index finger. “I have exams to study for.”
“Let me see.” He ignores your protests, flipping your textbook to his side as he eyes the papers. “Ew, mathematics? You’re a bigger nerd than I thought sweets.”
“Don’t call me sweets.” You say, sticking out your tongue in annoyance. “And get out of here.”
He lifts both hands in surrender, “alright, alright, I’ll leave sweets. Gotta meet Jungwon anyways.”
You thank whoever above was listening to your pleas of making Riki leave. Turning around to face the desk he was in, you realize he hadn’t pushed in his chair.
“Nishimura!” You groan out loud, pushing it in with your foot. This earns you a shush from the librarian, which only fuels your hatred towards the Japanese boy.
.♡.
“Y/N! Is that you?” There was Nishimura Riki’s annoying voice again, the one voice that you dread to hear everytime you entered school.
“Don’t you have anything better to do than annoy other people?” You ask, face clearly unimpressed.
“Someone woke up on the wrong side of bed.”
You glare at Jungwon’s unneeded input in the conversation, which makes him snicker and look away.
“You guys are ditching again?”
Riki and Jungwon shrug, making you roll your eyes. Of course the two were ditching, why did you even ask?
“We were gonna stop by the cigarette shop and get a pack or two.”
Jungwon elbows Riki, as if he wasn’t supposed to say that out loud.
“What? We can trust Y/N, isn’t that right sweets?”
“You still call her sweets?” Jungwon groans. “Gross dude. Let’s go.”
Jungwon starts walking, Riki closely following behind him. Just before they exit the school corridors, the boy throws you a wink, one that you roll your eyes at.
“You’ll love me one day sweets!” He shouts.
“In your dreams Nishimura!”
.♡.
It seemed like nothing was going your way. The next week had approached and even though it was barely Monday, your teachers decided it was a good idea to assign a bunch of exams on the same day.
With quivering hands, you tried not to get the tears that were currently coming out of your eyes onto your physics paper, which was marked with a 68.
How on earth did you get a 68? You were so sure you knew the formulas that were needed for the exam, but what was on the test looked completely different from what you expected.
You could barely find it in yourself to walk home, legs practically dragging across the concrete floor as you wipe your tears away with your windbreaker.
“Sweets?”
Although your normal self would snarl at the nickname and the voice it belonged to—you found yourself too tired and miserable to care at this point.
“Riki?”
You wipe your eyes again, vision clearing in enough to make out Riki leaning against one of the large trees a few meters away from the school.
“Hey, what’s wrong sweets?” He takes the cigarette that was currently dangling on his mouth out, squishing the head of it on the dirt floor beside him.
“Are you smoking again? That’s bad for you and you know it.”
“Geez sweets,” he laughs, finally standing up. “You looked like you just bawled your eyes out yet you still have enough energy to lecture me?”
“Shut up.”
“Ah, there she is again.”
Riki makes his way closer to you, head peering down to reach your level.
“Don’t cry.” He says softly, and it’s the first time you heard him in that tone. “Makes your eyes all red and scary.”
“Yah!”
He laughs when you hit him on the shoulder, sound that used to make you frown but you were weirdly enjoying it now.
“I’m kidding sweets!” He slings an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to him. “You’re pretty, even when you have tear stains all over you.”
The two of you continue walking, you not too sure where Riki was even taking you.
“Where are we going?” You sniffle, looking around the area.
“This new arcade, cmon, I’ll drive us.”
The two of you are in front of his beaten down Toyota, although it looks pretty clean from the inside. You thought Riki’s car would be an absolute mess, but it seemed like he was a clean freak when you opened the door to the smell of vanilla and cinnamon.
“You actually clean your car?”
“I’m offended you thought I didn’t sweets!” He says, frowning. “Thankfully, I don’t hold grudges.”
He puts the key in, hands tapping against his leather seat. “Wanna tell me why you’re so sad?”
He places a hand on the head of your seat, body twisting back with one hand on the wheel to pull out of his parking spot. He looked incredibly handsome doing such a basic task that it almost made your ability to speak go away.
“I got a 68 on my physics test.” You say, shoulders defeated.
“No way.” He continues driving, eyes glancing back and forth from the road to you. “Mr. Yuji’s class right? Fucking hate him.”
“Yeah well, I do too.”
Riki takes a road that you’re unfamiliar with, and he suddenly stops the car in front of a house.
“What are you doing Riki?” You say, watching as he opens his trunk and leaves the car.
“Doing something I should’ve done a long time ago.”
He pulls out a bat, and your eyes widen when he smashes it against a mailbox, crushing it in completely.
“Holy shit!” You shriek, eyes widening as Riki throws back the bat into the trunk, closing it with a loud bang.
He runs back to the car, slamming the door behind him.
“And that’s for Y/N motherfucker!” He yells before driving off, his boyish laughter could be heard from a distance.
“You’re crazy.” You breathe out, body still in shock from what you witnessed. “Who’s mailbox was that?”
“Mr. Yuji’s.” He smirks, eyes still on the road. “Let’s just say—this isn’t the first time I’ve been to his residence.”
“Wow.” You rest your head against Riki’s cold windows, still taking in what just happened. “Thank you?”
“You’re welcome sweets.” He smiles, teeth practically shinning like the movies. “Now how about that arcade I promised you earlier?”
.♡.
After hanging out with Riki at the arcade on Monday, you realized the boy wasn’t as bad as you thought.
He had won you a gigantic brown teddy bear, a cliché that you never thought would have happened to you after failing your physics exam.
He made you name it James The Third, and made you promise that it was your child and you had to take care of it while he was away.
“I heard you hung out with Nishimura this weekend!” You swore nothing could go past Byeol, who was currently geeking at the sudden news of you and Riki being so close.
“Shh, keep your voice down!”
Byeol wiggles her eyebrows, giggling at your stressed state. “You two are so cute! Opposites attract!”
You start to walk away from her, using the excuse that class has started. Sure Riki was handsome and weirdly—nice—you weren’t sure what your feelings about him were yet.
“Hi.”
You basically flinch out of your seat when you see him right next to you. He had a can of soy milk and a slice of chocolate cake with him.
“I brought you soy milk, hopefully you like it.”
You give him a small smile, not trusting your words enough to actually speak. Thankfully for you, the teacher entered right after, starting her lesson on trigonometry.
“Nishimura Riki, do you really have to eat in my class?” The teacher stops writing, placing her chalk on the board as she stares directly into Riki’s eyes.
He looks up from the bangs poking at his eyes, giving the teacher a stupid smile.
“Yes Mrs. Park, I’m very hungry.”
“Very well.” She wants to scowl at Riki, you could tell by her furrowed eyebrows. But she doesn’t, instead, picking up her chalk again to continue the lesson.
3 minutes don’t even past when Riki’s chewing gets incredibly loud and obnoxious, making you place a hand over your mouth to prevent yourself from bursting out laughing.
“Is the chocolate cake that good, Riki?” The teacher asks, trying not to completely snap at the boy.
“It’s sooo good.” Riki says, smiling fully with his teeth.
The class blurts out in laughter and hysteria, making Mrs. Park practically crush the chalk that was in her hand.
“That’s it! Go outside Nishimura Riki!”
He rolls his eyes, standing up from his seat. “Fine, but I was just eating cake.”
He looks over to you, who was currently giggling underneath your breath. He gives you a small smile, flicking your forehead softly before leaving the room, leaving you a blushing mess.
.♡.
“Pssst.”
You turn around, already knowing who was on the other side.
Of course Nishimura Riki was there.
“I’ve got two tickets to see Arctic Monkeys, come with me Friday night?”
You shake your head softly. “Oh I don’t know Riki, I have to study.”
“Don’t say that sweets,” he groans, head slumping into your shoulder. “Have some fun!”
“Shhh!” You look around, thankful the librarian wasn’t here to scold you guys. “Okay, okay, I’ll go. Just be quiet.”
“Yay!” He cheers, and it’s the happiest you’ve ever seen of the boy. “I’ll pick you up, okay? Friday night, 8pm exactly.”
“Okay Riki,” you say. “I’ll see you.”
Friday comes by in a flash, and you weren’t sure what to wear to the concert.
Despite it being your last year of being a teenager, you still haven’t attended one. So you were in a real struggle to pick what would be perfect.
You decided to go with a plain black top and cream colored cargos that hugged your waist, one without straps so your shoulders could be out. You were sure it’d get hot in the concert with all the people that would be attending.
“You look cute.” Riki says as he rows down the window. “Get in.”
The stadium is only 20 minutes away from your house, and you’re starting to get nervous when you realize how many people were attending.
“Hey,” Riki says, taking ahold of your hand when he notices it shaking. “It’ll be the most fun night of your life. I promise.”
And he was right. Although you were sure you weren’t going to enjoy it all that much, you found yourself singing and swaying along to the music.
The stadium was dim, making the music hit even ten times harder.
When I wanna be yours started playing, your vision was focused on the band whereas Riki’s eyes were focused on you.
“Hey!” You giggle, catching him staring at you. “Focus on the music dummy! You’re the one who bought the tickets.”
“Yeah yeah,” he says, smiling ear to ear. “The concert’s great and all but you’re even better.”
You don’t get to question his words before he crashes his lips onto yours with the lyrics wanna be yours blasting in the background.
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hedgehog-moss · 10 months
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Here are 7 little facts about my donkey and how his summer is going :)
1. I received an anon the other day asking if Pirou was still a working donkey who carries my firewood for me, and the answer is yes. I've been cutting some branches from the big cherry tree that fell down the other day, and Pirlouit has been valiantly carrying them to the woodshed—fun fact, for this activity he likes to wear his ears like this:
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Probably because this T position is reminiscent of Jesus' sacrifice on the cross, which is how Pirlouit perceives himself as he carries heavy logs for me. He's willing, but his martyrdom should be acknowledged.
Here's Poldine acknowledging it with a nose kiss, because Poldine.
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I stopped so they could have their little chat.
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2. Pirou has been chatting with a lot of new friends lately—we met these horses on a walk and he was so happy to stop and touch noses with them while making equid noises. Llamas are good with the nose-touching but their llama noises are just less interesting to Pirlouit. He had such interested ears here! "Finally a serious grown-up conversation"
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We also met this goose during the same walk and Pirlouit was a lot less eager to go say hi to her. The goose was yelling threats at us and we prudently stayed away, and Pirou was clearly thinking "this bird is doing a better job at protecting her home from intruders than Pandolf ever could" (it's true, Pan assumes intruders are friends until proven otherwise)
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3. You'll notice that there are houses in this pic! Our walks got longer and longer until one day we went all the way to the village (it took 1 hour 20min at Pirlouit's leisurely pace). I was so proud of him. I've been trying to convince my friends to go to the village on donkeyback (this requires two people, because you can ride Pirlouit but you can't tell him where to go unless there's someone holding his rope and leading the way)—my friends were reluctant because they still sort of perceive Pirou as the feral animal terrified of everything that he was when I got him. They know he's made a lot of progress but going to town on donkeyback still seemed foolhardy.
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So we've been riding Pirlouit in the woods, in familiar environments, and we also went to town with him but without riding him. He was amazingly calm and brave! There's a river that cuts the village in two and the first time we went, we stopped before the bridge, since it's pretty narrow and cars would have to drive very close to Pirlouit, we didn't want to risk it. We just went to say hi to the librarian who lives on the right side of the river, but since Pirlouit was very serene, we did cross the bridge the second time.
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He did not care at all about cars driving very close to him (he had one familiar human on either side of him and the drivers were very considerate and went slowly), which emboldened us to stop for a drink on the terrace of the coffeeshop on main street (< also a narrow street with cars driving by quite close to Pirlouit). There was just no problem at all, Pirou let total strangers rub his forehead and was more interested in iced tea than main street traffic.
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It was a hot day and we gave him all the ice cubes from our drinks and he chewed them enthusiastically.
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4. We made a stop at the pharmacy on our way home because we had another 1 hour 20min walk ahead and I had a blister, and the pharmacist noticed my donkey parked outside his shop and in a determined tone he said, "I want to try something." He took one of the donkey milk soaps from the overpriced-Provence-soaps-for-tourists display and opened the door and offered it for Pirlouit to sniff.
... I'm not sure what he was expecting—for my donkey to go "ohhh this smells like Mother's milk and aloe vera 🥺"—but unfortunately nothing happened.
(4. bis—Sorry, this 4th fact was anticlimactic.)
5. Pirlouit is now the proud owner of a surcingle. Not for equestrian vaulting and not for his log-carrying job because I don't know if it would be solid enough for the weight of a bag full of logs, but I'd like to tie bags or baskets to it to take Pirlouit grocery shopping, now that I know he's okay with going to town :) He even seems to enjoy the adventure, and the attention he gets from children.
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And actually I shouldn't write off equestrian vaulting because Pirou is also remarkably chill with weird things happening on his back. I used to be very careful to climb on his back in a quick & fluid way so he wouldn't spook (because he used to! a butterfly flapping its wings in Brazil used to spook him!) but now that my friends are riding him I can confirm we've reached a point where you can climb on Pirlouit's back in any way you want and he'll just be like "...... sure"
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6. I almost forgot to mention that Pirou turned 15 last month, according to his ID papers :) Donkeys have a longer life expectancy than horses, they can live 30-40 years on average so he's still a young lad really. Happy 15th birthday Pirlouit :)
7. I wanted to conclude with a nice aesthetic pic of Pirou's shadow on the road during all those walks, like I did with Poldine, but unfortunately donkey shadows do not have the chic je-ne-sais-quoi of llama shadows. Pirlouit looks like a hammerhead shark wearing a tiny fez and that's not his fault.
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neonacidtrip · 1 year
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.
#been a while since I made a personal post#but just found out an old ex blocked me on social media#and it’s hilarious albeit a little sad#it’s hilarious because I never talk to exes? like I barely start conversations with people ever because I’m bad at it#I’ve never once been hateful to an ex after a break up I have no energy for that#I’ve actually talked to all of my exes except one after a break up and had full apologies with two of them and we walked away friends#of the two I did not re become friends with I had to block the one for my personal safety#and the other one blocked me and then unblocked me months or years later and started a conversation with me like nothing happened#and I was nice to him but I kept the conversation brief and he never spoke to me again after that#he hasn’t re blocked me either because he knows I’m not gonna bug him I’ve never bugged him#so to realize I’ve been blocked by my most recent ex is sooo silly#like we broke up agesssssss ago I have not talked to them once in months#I think all I would do is like their post if they came across my newsfeed#because them being an ex doesn’t mean I don’t want them to be happy or that I don’t still like the content they share#I guess good on them for the block if seeing me or my likes upsets them they did what they had to do#I’m just surprised because they waited so long to block me like months and months of time without blocking me#it’s December why did you not have a problem with me during January to November lol#I didn’t even date them this year that is how long ago the break up was#I’m so confused lol but it is a bit sad because I truly do want them to be happy#and I’m sad I won’t be able to pull up their account to see they’re still alive#which is how I found out I was blocked I went to check up on them just to see if they posted anything recently#because if they’re posting they must be alive but I couldn’t pull up the account#I thought they may have deactivated until I tried a different device that’s not logged in and it clicked that ohh I’m blocked#oh well I’m glad their alive and making self care choices like blocking ppl even if it’s me being blocked#will not stop me from being confused but I won’t talk to them about it I can respect them wanting their time without me#anyway I am cold why is Florida cold this is not the right temperature#I’m going to sleep through this cold like a hibernating bear wake me when it’s warmer#neo rambles#neo rambles a constellation in the tags#relationship drama I guess
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obsessedelusional · 2 months
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the prettiest girl in the room (smut)
paring ↬ Eddie Munson x fem!reader
summary ↬ You shared a secret relationship with Eddie, if that’s what you could even consider it. You wished for more but never could bring yourself to tell Eddie this. What happens when your at a party and he gets dared to kiss the prettiest girl in the room?
word count ↬ almost 3k
a/n: felt inspired to write for my pookie eddie munson again.. I will cherish this man till the day I die luv uuuuuu
reblogs & feedback appreciated ♡
“Truth or dare?”
“Dare.” Eddie responds, sitting back in the couch with his legs spread waiting for his dare. You watch him smiling at his cocky grin towards the random freshman that chose him for truth or dare. Eddie would undoubtedly answer any question or complete any dare thrown his way.
“I dare you to…” The freshman’s voice fades as he looks around the room, trying to think of how to finish his sentence. Eddie only laughs in response, making a joke about finishing his dare sometime today.
Everyone is laughing but you, eyes still on Eddie. Your lips press to your solo cup, taking a sip of the drink someone mixed for you. Your thoughts are else where, the way Eddie is sat reminds you of the night before. When you were sat in his lap, riding his cock. His lips pressed to your chest, leaving marks that are still there. Hidden under your bra.
The freshman takes too long, to the point others begin to suggest dares for Eddie. He still hasn’t looked at you, and maybe that’s entirely your own fault. The two of you have been dating secretly for a few months now. He was the one to offer the secrecy to you, as an attempt to keep your perfect reputation. At first you thought it would be a one time thing so you agreed. Nothing more than a meaningless drunken hook up but after that he had you hooked. You kept coming back for more, until it became a nearly daily occurrence.
The talk of what you two were never to be had. Feelings growing on both sides, and now here you are. At a party tipsier than you should be. You stopped keeping count a while ago. Staring at him with fuck me eyes, too drunk to care who’s watching. You two exchanged a few smiles, brief conversations as if you two were nothing more than acquaintances. Which upset you but at the end of the day it’s your fault for making Eddie feel like he needed to be a secret in the first place.
“I dare you to kiss the prettiest girl in the room.” The freshman finally speaks, louder than everyone in the room. Shutting everyone up as they watch in anticipation of who he will choose.
You too are watching the only difference is your eyes haven’t left Eddie all night. His eyes scan the room, playfully looking at all the different girls. Finally his eyes land on yours, only stopping for a moment before moving on. Your heart is broken, begging for you to leave the room. In one swift moment he stands up and walks across the room, away from you. Of all the people he could kiss right now, he chooses the worst possible choice. His ex.
Can’t bring your self to watch, looking down at your cup. Your eyes finally leaving the man you’ve been secretly dating for months now. As people begin to cheer and laugh at the kiss shared between ex lovers. Eddie pulls away, viewers chanting for more.
“Nah I did my dare, I’m done. Who’s next?” He chuckles as he plops down onto the couch where he was previously sitting.
The game continues on like you didn’t just witness the man you’ve grown to care for, maybe even love kiss his ex. You’re a mixture of anger and sadness but self aware enough to know that this is your own doing. It’s all too much so without announcing your departure, you stand up and walk through the crowded room. You finish off your drink, throw away the evidence and make an attempt to leave the party.
Realizing that you’re entirely fucked, no way to leave. Your home too far to walk, your ride somewhere in the party with absolutely no intention of leaving any time soon. Annoyed because you only came with your friend because you knew Eddie would be here, hoping that you showing up would have ended differently.
A frustrated sigh leaves your mouth as you head outside anyways. Deciding to take a moment to breathe before heading back into the party. Thanking whoever’s listening when you walk out side to an empty porch. Sitting down on the steps, looking out at the silent road filled with unfamiliar houses. A few cars drive by as time passes.
You sit there staring and thinking about how you ended up here. Alone but having a secret relationship, with a man you’ve grown to love. Not even entirely sure if his feelings are mutual. You’ve been spending so much time with him. Most if not all instances leading to sex. Even when you two aren’t fucking, there’s a connection. You’ve spent more time at his trailer than your own home in that last month. He makes you so happy, quickly become the person you run to when you need anything. Doing everything a relationship entails without labeling it.
You’re broken out of your thoughts by the sound of the front door opening and that oh so familiar scent of cigarettes, weed and his cheap cologne you’ve grown to love. Your eyes stay down, looking at your fingers that fiddle with anxiety as he sits next to you.
“I was looking for you.” He speaks, facing you.
“I just needed some air.” You whisper, avoiding eye contact but Eddie knows better. Knows that you’re upset at the kiss and too stubborn to admit that.
“Why are you crying?” He asks, touching your chin and tugging at your face to look at him. You didn’t even realize you were crying, so you wipe away the tears. As a sad attempt to mask your pain. Mentally noting that you had too much to drink as you plaster a fake smile on your lips.
“I don’t know. It’s stupid. It’s probably cause I’m so drunk.” You force a laugh, wiping away at the remaining tears. Eddie doesn’t laugh and obviously doesn’t buy your excuse.
“Is this because I kissed her and not you?” He questions, and your smile fades as you nod your head in response.
“I didn’t want to kiss her. I just about puked as I did it. Was so close to blowing chunks all over her.” He admits, letting him self laugh at the thought causing you to feel a little better.
“I wanted to kiss you, only you. I just wasn’t sure if you would have been okay with that.. considering we’re just kinda hooking up or whatever this is. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable with such a public display of affection.” He further explains, all anger you had dissipating as quickly as it came.
“I wouldn’t have been uncomfortable.” You respond.
“Also was afraid once I started, I wouldn’t be able to stop. I’ve been watching you all night, staring at me with those eyes. Like you want me to drag you upstairs to an empty room and fuck you. Been walking around with a hard on all night, waiting till we can be alone.” He lets out a sheepish laugh, adjusting him self as your eyes are wide. You’ve been with a few partners before, none of which had such a dirty mouth as Eddie. Constantly out doing himself on the naughty words that leave his mouth.
“I was not staring at you like that.” You lie, grinning playfully swatting his shoulder. His laugh only grows, throwing his arm around you. You rest your tired drunken head, into his embrace.
“You’re a shit liar. Tell me what you want.”
“You. I don’t want to this.. us to be a secret anymore.” You admit, looking up at him while his arm is still stretched over your shoulder.
“Yeah?” He asks as he looks down on you.
“Yeah. I want to be the prettiest girl in the room.” You say with no filter. Admitting your drunken insecurities outloud, cringing as soon as it leaves your mouth.
“You are always the prettiest girl in any room. Only now you’ll be my prettiest girl, okay?” He says pressing a simple sweet kiss to your forehead. You nod in response, the biggest grin plastered on your face as if you weren’t sobbing moments ago.
“I think I need to fuck you so good that you forget about that kiss.” He whispers, his lips only a few inches away from yours.
“I think so too.” You say, before closing the distance. Pressing your lips to his, kissing him tenderly. His lips move with yours, as your hands find the back of his neck pulling him closer. Without thinking about it you slowly lower the two of you until he’s on top of you. Smiling and lettting out a giggle into the kiss as your back hits the cold wet wood of the porch.
“What’s so funny?” He pulls away, just enough to break the kiss.
“The way I was about ready to let you have your way with me outside on this porch. Can we go somewhere else?” You ask, looking up at him while he’s staring at your lips.
He rolls his eyes, getting up off you and standing up. Eddie reaches his hand out to which you take letting him help you up. He leads you back into the house, through the crowd of people. You’re too busy watching the man you’re with to notice the stares. Your man.
He leads you up some stairs, pushing through several people waiting for the restroom to a dark empty bedroom. He pushes you inside, following closely behind. While you take a few steps in he locks the door. When you turn to face him he’s already standing near you, looking down on you.
“How’d I get so lucky?” Eddie says as pulls you closer, his arms find their way to under your thighs. Picking you up in one swift motion.
“So fucking beautiful and all mine.” He gently sets you on the bed, never letting go. He’s on top of you, looking at you with so much more than just lust.
“All yours.” You respond, your hands already working on taking his shirt off.
“So eager.” He laughs, pulling it off the rest of the way.
You watch in anticipation as he undresses himself. Once he’s full naked and ready, he’s tugging at your pants. You lift your hips to help him as he slips them off. After a few moments you’re both naked and he’s dropping to his knees. His arms under your legs pulling you closer to the edge of the bed. His face a few inches away from your glistening cunt.
“I love the way you’re always so ready for me. Always so wet.” He murmurs, kissing your inner thigh.
Without hesitation his mouth dips into your folds, finding your most sensitive spot. Kissing it lightly before applying more pressure. Your hand find his hair, your hips tighten as your mouth lets sweet moans leave it. Letting him know he’s doing a good job. His tongue plays with your clit, as his finger slips into your hole. A loud moan leaves your mouth at the new sensation.
He continues, his motivation is the sinful sounds that come from your lips. He hears you say more somewhere in the mix of moans and curse words. So he adds another finger, pumping in and out of you at a steady pace. His mouth still tactfully working on your bud. He knows exactly what he’s doing and how to get you to your climax. The squeezing of your walls, lets him know you are close.
“Don’t stop.” You mutter pulling on his hair, as an attempt to pull him closer. Your hips moving with his face, nearly riding it in an attempt to finish. Eddie moves faster, just enough to cause you to come undone. Releasing all over his fingers. He slows his movements until they come to a halt as he pulls away.
“You always taste so good. Do you wanna taste?” He ask as he stands up, his two fingers finding their way to your mouth.You nod yes in response, opening your mouth enough so he can set them on your tongue. You taste yourself while never breaking eye contact even when he pulls them from your mouth.
“Fuck you’re such a good girl.” Eddie groans, pulling you back to the edge of the bed.
He raises one of your legs with one hand, the other hand aligning his cock to your hole. As he slowly, inch by inch fills you up he’s grabbing your other leg. Both of them in the air and supported by Eddie as he bottoms out inside of you. You whimper at the stretch and the feeling of being full. His hips start to move, slow motions as he fucks you. Painfully slow, you need more.
It’s like he can read your minds because before you can ask, he’s pounding into you at a brutal pace. You’re a moaning mess under him, your legs being pushed wider as he fucks you harder. The only sounds is your moans, his grunting and the sound of skin slapping. Your pussy is so wet it’s loud as he goes in and out of you. The muffled sounds of the party down stairs is barley heard theough the door. Everyone upstairs can most certainly hear but in the moment you couldn’t care less.
“Fuck, you take me so good. It’s like your pussy was made for my cock.” He stammers as he attempts to talk while sinking in and out of your wet, warm core.
He continues to speak his mind, letting all his thoughts flow out without a filter. His movements never stop, desperate to please you and please himself in the process. He’s pushing you deeper into the bed with every single thrust. Your hands find their way to his back, as he pressed himself closer to you. Kissing you hungrily as his hips continue to roll into you. Your hands scratch into his back, leaving marks in their tracks. He groans as a response, into your lips as you two kiss.
You start to feel that familiar coiling tension. Your fluttering walls let Eddie know that you’re coming close to your climax. He continues the same pace, pulling his face away from yours so he can watch you come undone. His favorite thing to witness and be the cause of. Your back arches as the tensions finally snaps. Your walks tighten as you come all over his cock.
Which is enough to push him over the edge, he pulls himself out leaving you empty. Without missing a beat he grips his dick, pumping it roughly. Allowing himself to finish on your stomach. When he’s done, he’s pressing a sweet breathy kiss to your lips before stumbling around in the dark to find something to clean up the mess he made.You lay there for a moment before feeling him wipe you clean. When he’s sure as he can be that he got it all, he throws it across the room.
“Eddie you can’t just..” Your own words cut off as you start to wonder whose room you two just fucked in.
“Whose room is this?” You question as he helps you get dressed again. As he pulls your shirt down over your head, he’s laughing.
“Jason Carvers.” He speaks, you look around for the first time and it’s most definitely a basketball players room.
“You didn’t.. we didn’t.” You reply, suddenly in a hurry to get dressed and back to the party. Moving his hands off you so he can get himself dressed.
“We did.” He grins, pulling his jeans on.
“Eddie..” You groan his name out but it doesn’t last long. His smile bringing you to smile.
Once you’re both dressed, he’s pressing another kiss to your lips. He grabs your hand and gently leads you out of the bedroom, praying that no one is sober enough to remember Eddie and you going into Jason’s room. Only to met with several pairs of eyes, not so silently watching and judging you. Eddie doesn’t seem to care, so you pretend to not notice. Following him back downstairs, to the couch where he was sat early.
“Eddie.. I want to go to yours. Can we leave?” You say stopping him before he can take a seat.
“Give me like thirty minutes to sober up. I’m not nearly as intoxicated as you are…” He teases.
“But I did drink a little bit. We can leave soon, okay?” He says as he sits down, pulling you into his lap. You have the cheesiest smile plastered on your lips. He’s acting as if it’s just another day, like this is a totally normal occurrence between the two of you. Like everyone in this room didn’t just watch him kiss his ex as a dare.
“Okay.” You nod, that smile still shining.
“You’re so cute and so drunk.” He whispers softly, his lips inches away from yours.
“And?” You question.
“And you’re so mine.” He says matter of factly.
“And?” You question again, eyes brows raised. Knowing what your tipsy self wants to hear. As you smile waiting, he looks lost but you see it click in his eyes before he rolls them.
“And you’re the prettiest girl in the room.” He lets out a soft chuckle before kissing you unapologetically. You kiss him back, drunkenly unaware of the eyes on you two and the gossip beginning to spread around the two of you. Nothing could ruin this moment for you.
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