#but with me I’m always like am i rationalizing this away because i don’t want it to resonate? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

katyswrites · 8 months

Text

don't call me 'baby'

PART 9 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: Sugardaddy!Steve, SMUT (18+), angst (so much angst, sorry), unprotected p in v, daddy kink, oral sex (f receiving), cum play, ddlg dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, kind of a derogatory reference to sex work, swearing, alcohol use, smoking, age gap, no use of y/n

Wordcount: 5.4k

A sugar daddy modern AU, a whirlwind summer romance in Italy, and two people from completely different walks of life, somehow finding each other in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But, what will happen when summer ends?

PART 9 | forever the name on my lips

“So - Robin knows that this surprise party isn’t actually a surprise, right?” you asked.

Steve laughed over the phone.

“Uh, no - she 100 percent thinks you have no clue.”

You groaned. “I’m terrible at lying to her -”

“You’re not lying - look, you should see how excited she is -”

You rolled your eyes, putting the phone down on your desk and putting him on speaker.

“You’re an enabler, you know that?”

“I am not -”

“You so are!” you retorted. “Every year, Robin tries to make my birthday a bigger thing than it is - it’s always over-the-top, and never what I ask for. I usually just like, want to go get drinks, or watch my favorite movie at home, but she decides to invite over 40 of our closest friends instead, or pull out some trick to outdo the year before. Did you know that our first year we lived together, she almost burned our place down by putting 18 trick candles on my cake?”

“Your point being?”

You sighed, leaning over the desk closer to the mirror to put on your mascara.

“My point being that you’ve taken a monster, and given her a real budget this time.”

He laughed again, and the sound of it made your heart ache. You took a deep breath, thankful he couldn’t see you right now.

“Look, I think she’s doing this because she loves you - plus, she’s mad that I stole you away for your actual birthday, so this was my bribe.”

You sighed, stepping back to pull on your dress - another new one you had commissioned, thanks to Steve’s credit card.

“I’m going to really have to practice my surprised face,” you said sarcastically.

You reached for your earrings on the dresser, the ones Steve had bought you for the gala. You didn’t love the idea of walking around with a million dollars on your ears, but it was a special occasion, after all.

“What has she told you you’re allegedly doing?” he asked, voice tinny and slightly muffled through the phone’s speaker.

“Just meeting some friends for dinner - but, she said to dress a little nicer than usual. I can’t believe she thinks I don’t suspect anything.”

“Maybe she does - maybe you’re both putting up a silly charade for no reason, just to spare feelings.”

You nearly scoffed, but stopped yourself - he had no clue how much you were doing that with him already.

It had been nearly a week since you and Steve had returned from your birthday getaway. Since then, you had been spiraling. Every time you thought of him, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. When you were with him, it felt so right - when you were alone, you felt lonelier than you ever had before. You gave it a few days, just to see if the blissful environment of being on vacation was just tricking you into thinking you had real feelings for Steve. After all, that wasn’t reality… right?

But now, nearly a week later, you nearly felt sick when you thought about him - the sight of him made your heart flutter, every nice gesture and sweet compliment made your stomach flip and your face bloom with heat. You were hopelessly in love - you were so stupid.

Since the trip, you and Steve hadn’t spent much time together. Part of it was him getting slammed with work - a relief, honestly. It had given you time to try and have some rational thought, and sort out your feelings. You getting your period right upon return to Rome also put a dent in things - you hadn’t exactly been feeling up to sex, which Steve had been understanding about. But, this had only made things worse - he still took you out to dinner a few days ago, insisting on still wanting to see you, if you were up for it. Afterwards, you had gone back to his place and just put on a movie, falling asleep on the couch. It was the first time you had ever slept over without having sex - somehow, more intimate than anything you had done up to that point. In short - you were screwed.

But, now you had to go to this godforsaken birthday party, with Steve in front of all of your friends, and act like everything was fine. In some ways, it was. But in others… the end of summer was fast approaching. And, the thought of that left a pit in your stomach.

“You still there?” Steve’s voice asked.

“Oh, yeah,” you said, zipping up the back of your dress. “Sorry, I’m just getting ready -”

“What are you wearing?” he asked jokingly.

“Shut up -”

“Right - that’s for later,” he said. You could practically hear him smirking through the phone. You roll your eyes again.

“Well, I’m ready to go, and I’m sure Robin is itching to get me out the door, so - see you in a bit?”

“Yes - except, you don’t know that,” he said.

“Oh of course - well, I’ll be sure to act surprised.”

“I’m sure you’ll kill it - see you, bye,” he said, promptly hanging up.

You didn’t take time to dwell on it, how formal he still could be sometimes - reminding you of exactly who you were to him, you supposed - as Robin started knocking on your door, asking if you were ready to go.

“Just a minute!” you cried. You reached for the dresser for a final thing - the ruby necklace Steve had given you for your birthday. When you opened the bedroom door to an impatient Robin in the doorway, you were clasping it on.

“Jesus - where did you get that?” she asked, gesturing to the jewel on your sternum.

“Birthday gift from Steve.”

Robin crossed her arms, shaking her head.

“What?” you asked.

“Nothing, it’s just - how’s that going?”

“Fine,” you lied. “I told you, the vacation was fun -”

“Doesn’t it all just seem - like a bit too much?” she asked cautiously.

“I - what do you mean -”

“Well - the trip, the gifts, being with him for hours on the phone every night - it just feels like he’s more than a - benefactor, sugar daddy, whatever you want to call it -”

You felt your face heat.

“Robin - no - it’s just - it’s an arrangement, and it’s going the way we both said it would -”

Robin just stared at you for a moment, and sighed with defeat.

“Whatever you say. Just - be careful, okay? I don’t want you getting hurt again -”

“I’m fine,” you said firmly. “I promise.”

A lie.

“C’mon - let’s go out,” you said, quickly changing the subject and heading for the door.

Robin didn’t get the chance to argue further.

*****

You took the bus towards the city center, walking a few blocks before reaching one of your favorite restaurants - you and Robin frequented the bar more than the tables, often going there to celebrate the end of the semester, or to drink your sorrows away after a breakup or shitty week.

“You could have just said we were coming here,” you said, letting Robin take your hand to lead you inside.

Robin just shrugged, and you could tell she was fighting a grin - she really is terrible at keeping secrets. But, you did your best to keep your face neutral.

When you walked inside, the place was dimly lit. You could practically feel Robin’s anticipation behind you, and felt inwardly thankful that she couldn’t see your face. Then, the lights flashed on, and you were bombarded with an uproaring “SURPRISE!”

Even though you were anticipating it, you still jumped - it was far more people than you had been expecting.

“Holy shit -”

Robin was practically bouncing, grinning. “Happy birthday, babe.”

You shook your head. “I - did you invite like, everyone we know?”

She nodded excitedly. “Mm hm! And the whole place is rented out, so it’s just us - open bar too!”

How much did this cost Steve? you wondered.

“Robin - you really didn’t have to do all this -”

“Oh hush - your boy toy took you away from me on your birthday, so we’re celebrating now.”

You laughed, pulling Robin in for a quick hug.

“Thanks, Robs.”

She was positively beaming, and you didn’t have the heart to tell her that you’ve known about this for two weeks, that Steve had told you when he and Robin had been texting, how he had put his credit card down for the whole thing. So, you just smiled, and squeezed her tighter.

“Well,” she said when she pulled away, “you need a drink - your usual?”

You nodded, watching as she headed over to the bar. Soon enough, it was a whirlwind of friends, classmates, old co-workers, and essentially anyone you would even consider a friendly acquaintance swarming you, giving you a hug and wishing you happy birthday. There was even a DJ, playing all of your favorite music, the tables cleared to the sides to make the space empty enough to fit everyone - you were certain the evening would descend into dancing soon enough. Robin soon enough returned with your drink, and you let yourself actually relax.

Then, a strong arm wrapped around your waist, and you feel yourself jump. You turn, smiling.

“Hey there, baby,” Steve said, pulling you close.

When did he start calling you that outside of the bedroom?

“Fancy seeing you here,” you joked. He smiled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“What do you think of your party?” he asked.

“I think you’ve been too good to me.”

“Well, this was all Robin - I just helped.”

“If that’s what you’re telling yourself - I - thank you,” you whispered. “You really didn’t have to.”

He waved you off. “Nonsense - I like spoiling you. You look beautiful, by the way,” he added, his fingers coming to brush the pendant hanging from your neck.

The butterflies were back. Fuck.

“Only because you give me such pretty things to wear,” you retorted.

He laughed. “I’ll buy you every pretty thing you want, baby.”

Your heart fluttered, and you looked down into your glass to avoid eye contact.

Then, a familiar voice was calling your name. You looked up, and smiled.

“Eddie?”

“Bella, look at you!” he said, bounding over and pulling you out of Steve’s grasp and into a tight hug. You laughed, Eddie practically lifting you off of your feet.

“You’re stunning, as always -” he says once he puts you down.

“Oh, shut up - flattery will get you nowhere -”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Can’t blame a man for trying, right?”

He then glanced over your shoulder.

“Steve, right?”

Steve nodded stiffly, forcing a smile.

“You two look gorgeous - want a picture?” Eddie asked, holding up the camera hanging around his neck.

“Oh, sure - Steve?” you asked, turning to silently plead with him.

Then he was back by your side again, arm snaking around your waist and pulling you close.

“Smile!” Eddie said from where he was crouching behind the lens. You did, posing for the photo. The shutter started rapid-fire clicking, and after a moment, you felt Steve’s lips on your cheek, and your face heated. You did your best to ignore it, letting Eddie get a few more shots as you pressed closer into him.

“What a beautiful couple!” Eddie proclaimed, grinning into the viewfinder.

“Oh - Eddie, we’re -”

“She’s doing the heavy-lifting there!” Steve joked. You froze, unsure how to even address that. But Eddie just chuckled, saying something along the lines of you didn’t need to tell me that! and walking away, making a beeline for the bar.

Before you could say anything to Steve, Robin is running over, taking you by the hands.

“Sorry Steve, can I steal her?”

He nodded with a smile, letting go of you as Robin pulled you through the crowd, babbling on about how Vickie’s ex had the audacity to show up, and how someone brought their boyfriend uninvited, and a hundred other things you would normally care about.

Steve hadn’t said no when Eddie called you a couple - what the fuck?

But, the next few hours were a whirlwind - you had lost count of how many drinks you had, catching up with friends you hadn’t seen all summer, learning who's dating who, what their plans were for the upcoming semester, asking how you’re doing - you decidedly did not mention that you had spent all summer as the mistress of a man a decade older than you - still, it felt nice to see your friends again, to catch up and try to relax. You ate your fill in the food spread that had been put out, all of your favorite things from the menu, a few extra things that Robin must have requested specially. So many of your friends remarked on how well you looked, how you were glowing, admiring your jewelry and asking where you got it (which, you pointedly lied about). Even Jonathan Byers showed up, the sweet yet introverted guy who you had befriended in one of your art courses. You were chatting with him and Eddie about their upcoming photography portfolios when you saw Steve again, approaching with a new drink for you.

“Oh, hey,” you said, accepting it gratefully.

“Having fun?” Steve asked, casting a glance to your friends.

“Yeah! Uh, Steve, you know Eddie, and this is Jonathan - not sure if you two met yet.”

“Nice to meet you,” Steve said, extending his hand. Jonathan hesitated, then took it, letting Steve shake it firmly.

Then, Steve’s lips pressed to your ear, whispering, “Want to dance?”

You bit your lip, nodding, and bid farewell to the other boys for now. The makeshift dance floor was starting to fill up now, your friends moving along to the music and spilling drinks onto the floor.

“So, does Eddie know how to button a shirt?” Steve asked sarcastically.

You huffed.

“Don’t tell me you’re still jealous -”

“I - I’m not. He’s just - he’s such a flirt -”

‘He’s a flirt with everyone - he’d shoot his shot with you, if I left you two alone.”

Steve’s face turned red at that.

“I - uh -”

“Besides,” you whispered, pulling him closer by his shirt collar, admiring the way his chest hair just barely peeked out of the open top button, “I kind of like how easily he gets you riled up.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

You closed your eyes, swaying to the music.

“When was the last time you did something like this?” you asked over the cacophony, gesturing to the club-like atmosphere around you. He laughed.

“I’m not that old - but, probably not since a little after I finished college… when I started working, I didn’t really have the energy for… all of this. And… Nancy never liked it much anyway.”

You felt your heart sink, and shook your head. You were properly tipsy, had the confidence to pull Steve toward you, taking his hands in yours.

“Then - dance with me like you’re 20 again, yeah?”

“Again, I’m not old -”

“Will you just shut up and dance?” you said, pulling him close. He obliged, letting you bury your face into his neck as you swayed along to the music.

He twirled you, watched on fondly as you found your friends on the dance floor, and laughed as he saw how excited each new song made you. At one point, you caught him looking at you in the corner of your eye - he wore an expression so soft, so sincere, that he was almost unrecognizable.

“What is it?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing - I just -”

“Where’s the birthday girl?” Robin’s voice called from the other end of the room. The music faded, and she came out from behind the bar with a massive cake, lit with what you guessed were probably 21 candles.

“Everyone! 1 - 2 - 3-”

Then everyone was singing you Happy Birthday, pushing you towards the front to where Robin stood, wearing a wide smile.

“Make a wish,” she whispered.

You sighed, knowing exactly what to wish for, and leaned down to blow out the candles to boisterous applause.

“Chocolate cake with mousse, of course - your favorite,” Robin said, serving you the first slice.

“I’d expect nothing less,” you replied, accepting it gratefully - it’s been the kind of cake you’ve gotten for every birthday for as long as you remembered. Even your parents remembered that each year, to their credit.

“Want a slice?” you asked, turning to Steve.

“Oh - no, I’m okay -”

“At least taste a bite?”

He sighed, smiling in defeat.

“Yeah, okay.”

You took a forkful and held it out to him, feeding it into his mouth. He groaned at the taste, fighting a smile.

“Yeah, okay - that’s delicious -”

“I told you -”

Then Steve reached out, gently wiping away what you presumed was some smeared chocolate from the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

“Did you have a nice birthday party?” he asked softly.

“Yeah - I did. Just - everything for my birthday was wonderful. I - thank you.”

Then he was pulling you close and kissing you, on the lips, in front of everyone. You let your eyes flutter shut and leaned into the kiss, tasting just a bit of chocolate on his lips, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne.

You pulled away, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes.

“What was that for?”

He shrugged.

“I just really wanted to do that - is that okay?”

You nodded, eyes flitting to his lips again as your stomach did a somersault. You were so aware of eyes on you two, some whispers floating through the room despite the loud music, but you pulled him down for another kiss again, lacing your hands around the back of his neck.

“Take me home with you,” you whispered against his lips.

“Now?”

“Now.”

Then he was grabbing your hand, only slowing down as you bid goodbye to Robin, thanking her for the party, and you both practically bolted towards the door.

*****

It was nearly midnight by the time you reached Steve’s place - not that it mattered. You had jumped him nearly the second you got in the car he had called, closing the privacy shield between yourselves and the driver. You technically behaved yourselves - clothes stayed on, at least. But you kissed him like you needed him more than oxygen, all tongue and desperate gasps as you moved to straddle his lap in the backseat. You were grinding on his thigh, palming him through his pants like horny teenagers in their mom’s old Honda.

You tore out of the car like bats out of Hell when you reached his apartment building, only maintaining self-control in the elevator thanks to the old man who got on with you and rode it most of the way. The moment you tumbled through Steve’s door, you were all over each other, shedding clothes in a trail leading to the bedroom.

“I missed this,” you breathed against his mouth, shedding him of his button-down.

“Me too,” he said, reaching to unzip your dress and let it fall to the floor.

“Steve - I want to thank you - for my birthday party - for everything -”

“Mm, okay - yeah baby, whatever you want -”

It was desperate, messy, and filled with carnal need, Steve tearing your undergarments off as he practically threw you onto the bed. He wasted no time, eating you out like your pussy gave him oxygen, making you cum on his tongue twice before even taking his pants off. You pulled on his hair, crying out his name as he coaxed your orgasms out of you, slowly kissing his way back up your body until his face hovered above yours. He was grinning, his chin glistening with your release, and you could have just stared at that forever.

“Steve, please -” you begged, “I need you -”

“I know, baby,” he said, crawling over you. “I just wanted to take care of you first, it’s okay -”

Then he was kissing you, fumbling with his belt and shedding himself of his boxers, pulling you close.

It had only been a week, but you nearly screamed when he entered you, gasping at the stretch.

“Fuck - you’re always so tight and perfect, baby - I haven’t fucked you since we got back to the city, it was drivin’ me nuts -”

“Me too,” you mewled, clawing at his back as he began to thrust into you. “Steve - please fuck me, please -”

And he did. But, the earlier desperation had faded - he rolled his hips into yours slowly, holding you close as he groaned into your skin. He pressed kisses to your neck, showering you with praises and sweet nothings in your ear. It didn’t feel like primal, needy sex - it almost felt like making love. He was soft, gentle, but knew your body better than anyone by now, touching you in all the right places.

“You’re so beautiful, so perfect -” he murmured, smirking as you moaned at a particularly deep thrust, “my whole life, I’ve been looking for a pussy like yours, baby -”

“I - ah! Fuck, I - I know what you mean. You fuck me like nobody else - daddy, I -”

“I know, baby,” he said, pressing gentle kisses across your face. “Look at you, wearin’ the fuckin’ jewelry I bought you as I fuck you - I love when you do that - you’ve been so good, letting me spoil you all summer - like a good girl, I can’t believe it -”

He was rambling now, and you knew that meant he was close. You wrapped your legs around his torso, digging your heels into his back to pull him in impossibly deeper. Pleasure pulsed through your body, heat gathering in your abdomen, and you started meeting his thrusts with your hips in earnest.

“You close?” he asked.

“Yes - I’m going to cum all over your cock, sir -”

“Thank god - I’m not going to last much longer -”

“I know - let go,” you said, pulling him down for a messy kiss. He groaned against your lips, his cock twitching a bit inside you.

“I just wanna stay buried in this pussy, baby - forever -”

“I know,” you whispered. “I never want this to end.”

You never wanted any of it to end.

But you held onto him with desperation, losing yourself in the feel of him, his scent, the sound of his voice -

All that was running through your mind was I love you I love you IloveyouIloveyouIlo-

Then you were coming, convulsing around him with a scream. You arched off of the mattress, burying your face in his shoulder as your orgasm washed over you in waves, ebbing and flowing gently instead of crashing all at once. He followed moments later, hips stuttering as he filled you, your name on his lips like it was a sacred thing.

You both stayed like that for a while - you stared at the ceiling, soothingly running your fingers through his hair as he lazily kissed your neck. You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, but eventually he began to soften, forcing him to pull out of you and roll over onto your back by your side.

You turned your head on the pillow to face him - he was blissed out, smiling as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I think that was our best yet,” he whispered.

You hummed in agreement - you had felt it the night of your birthday in the villa, too - something had shifted in bed. Yyou couldn’t quite place it. But, you knew it scared the hell out of you.

“Are you okay?” he asked, brushing the backs of his fingers along your arm.

“Mm, yeah - just thinking.”

“About what?” he asked, propping himself on his elbow. “What’s going on in that pretty little mind?”

You could’ve cried from the gentleness in his voice, your heart fluttering a bit as you looked at him - you did your best to memorize his face, the way his hair fell, every freckle and mole along his body - and it hit you that this was ending soon. You didn’t even realize you had started to cry - but, hot tears were rolling down your cheeks, and you pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes.

“Fuck,” you whispered.

“Whoa - you okay? What’s going on?” he asked - he sounded terrified.

“It’s nothing - don’t worry about it -” you said, sitting up.

“Baby, you’re crying - of course I’m going to be worried -”

“Why?” you cried, the question coming out harsher than you had intended.

His face flashed with confusion and concern, and he sat up, too.

“What do you mean why?”

“Because - because you’re not supposed to care!”

“I - I don’t understand -”

“Steve! What the fuck are we doing here?”

“We - we were having a nice night, I thought - now I don’t -”

You wiped your tears, groaning with frustration.

“Steve - I don’t know how to be around you. You said this was just for sex, right? All fun, no feelings, all that bullshit? We literally wrote it down -”

His face went more neutral, and he nodded.

“Well, yes - that was the arrangement -”

“So then you don’t get to ask me what’s wrong - you don’t get to ask me how my day was, plan my birthday party with my best friend, call me nearly every night, name a goddamn star after me -”

“Whoa - you don’t like that I did those things?”

“No!” you screamed, frustrated. “I don’t like that you’re being my boyfriend!”

“I - I’m not your boyfriend.”

“Oh, you’ve made that very clear - so you can stop acting like it!”

You didn’t realize how loud your voice had gotten, your breakdown quickly pivoting to unbridled anger and frustration.

“I’m not - so what, you want me to fuck you and just send you home? Like a goddamn prostitute?”

“Well maybe if you had done that in the first place you would’ve saved yourself a whole lot of trouble!” you screamed.

He went silent for a moment, just staring at you. You sighed, pressing your fingers to your temples.

“Steve, look - this summer - I mean, it’s been amazing. I really mean that. But, the summer is ending soon - when do you even go back to the States?”

“September 1st,” he said quietly.

You froze, your heart plummeting. “Jesus Christ, that’s in like two weeks - when were you going to tell me?”

He stared down at his hands, shaking his head.

“I - I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you - I just wanted you to enjoy tonight, and not ruin it, I know it sounds ridiculous, but I figured if I didn’t tell you, it would make it less real -”

��So you were just going to disappear on me?”

“No! No - I -”

He throws his head into his hands.

“Steve - look me in the eyes and tell me this is still just an arrangement for you.”

A moment of silence passes - there it was, your cards laid on the table. Your heart was thudding in your chest, waiting for his answer.

He sighed, and looked over to meet your gaze.

“Of course it isn’t.”

Your stomach flipped, and you felt like you were going to be sick - oh God -

“Then - what the fuck do we do?”

He shook his head.

“I - I don’t know,” he admitted. “I - I don’t know what the fuck is even going on. I told myself I wouldn’t get… attached, and now -”

You scoffed.

“What?” he asked.

“It’s just - attached? Like a fucking dog you found on the street and have to give back to its owners or something?”

“Well, what would you call it?”

You paused - you considered confessing everything, that you were past the point of falling for him. No, you couldn’t - you needed to keep that close to your chest, not give him the upper hand.

“Steve - maybe we should just end this,” you said, the words feeling like a knife to the chest as they left your mouth.

“What? No - I - I don’t want to -”

“Steve - you said it yourself - if we got any personal feelings, we would stop the whole thing, before it got too far - we’re only delaying the inevitable anyway -”

“Come back with me,” he blurted out.

You stop mid-sentence, eyes widening.

“I - what?”

“Come back to Chicago with me - we can just do it. I can take care of you -”

“Steve - I can’t -”

“Why not?”

You just laughed dryly.

“Because - I have a life here. I have friends, a semester left before I get my degree -”

“You won’t need to work if you -”

“You really don’t get it, do you? I want to finish school, actually achieve something, and do something that matters to me. I know, you look down on me as some downtrodden peasant or something -”

“No, that’s not it -”

“But I’m smart, and when I’m done with school - I may not be rich like you, but I’ll be able to work for a living, and actually support myself. I don’t want to just exist for you -”

“I didn’t mean that,” he said - you were both raising your voices again. “This summer…it’s the happiest I’ve been in a long time. Maybe ever, actually. I just - I want to help you -”

“Well stop! I don’t need you!” you screamed.

He went silent for a moment.

“That’s what Nancy said, too,” he said quietly.

You sighed, your heart breaking for him.

“Steve - I didn’t know -”

“Maybe there’s a reason,” he continued, staring down to avoid your gaze. “I mean - you’re right - I’m meant to be alone.”

“I never said that -”

“You didn’t have to.”

You both sat in silence for a moment, unable to say anything else.

“Steve - I’m sorry that this is where the night went. But… we both knew this was coming. I - I think we’re going to both get hurt if we try to keep it going.”

He nodded, shoulders sagging.

“You’re probably right.”

There it was. The moment you had been dreading.

The silence was deafening - neither of you daring to look at one another, letting the weight sink in of everything just said. You were certain you were going to be sick.

“I - I should probably give these back,” you said quietly, gesturing to the earrings and necklace. You reached up to take them off, but he gently placed his hand on yours to stop you.

“No - keep it. Keep everything.”

“Steve -”

“No - nothing that I gave you was a loan. It’s yours. Keep onto the credit card, too.”

“Steve - I can’t do that -”

“Sure you can. Only use it for emergencies, if it makes you feel better to do that. As long as you don’t go over the limit… it’s yours.”

You shook your head.

“I can’t -”

“Please,” he said, eyes pleading. “At least until you’re done with school - focus on your studies, I’ll take care of it.”

“But - I’m not giving you anything in return -”

“Doesn’t matter. I promised to help you with school, and - I’m a man of my word.”

You sighed with defeat.

“I - I think I should go.”

“Probably best,” he said coldly. You couldn’t even blame him for that.

You gathered your things quickly, pulling your dress back on. He rose to follow you to the door, pulling on his boxers as he went. He stood in the doorway as you left, his face stoic - was he angry? Or did he just feel nothing? Maybe the latter - you were in love… and he had grown attached, whatever that meant.

“I guess this is goodbye,” you whispered.

“I suppose so.”

He won’t look at you.

“Steve - you’re going to find someone someday who’s right for you, okay? Someone you’ll actually want to be with. Then you won’t need - you won’t need someone like me. You’ll forget all about this - I know you will.”

Something softened in his face, and he shook his head.

“I somehow doubt that.”

You stared down at the ground.

“I guess this is goodbye,” you murmured.

He nodded.

“I wouldn’t change any of it,” he said quietly.

You could actually feel your heart breaking, crackling and splitting like it was made of porcelain. You still avoided eye contact, afraid you’d cry if you looked at him.

“My car can take you home,” he added. “I don’t want you taking the bus this late, okay?”

You nodded solemnly. As you turned to leave, he said one more thing that stopped you in your tracks.

“Wait - I just wanted to say -”

He stopped for a moment, running his hand through his hair as he took a deep breath.

“I wish you well.”

That was it - the final nail in the coffin. The end of a failed negotiation, a transaction. You nodded firmly, turning quickly on your heels and walking straight ahead to the elevator, refusing to look back at him.

The moment you slid into the car, you gave the driver your address and closed the privacy shield again. But now, it was so you could sob into your hands, feeling your heart break in half as you pulled away from his apartment for the last time.

author's note: hi everyone - sorry about this chapter. The next part will be the finale - plus, an epilogue. I'll probably just write those together and post them in quick succession. Don't panic - you guys know I don't like writing sad endings (or if I do, I leave massive warnings). So, hang tight - it's going to be okay. Please let me know your thoughts - comments, reblogs, and messages are always appreciated!

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luvrxbunny · 5 months

Note

I need something borderline illegal. Like dark and twisted. Like I want to question my moral compass but read on.

Am I asking for dad’s best friend!Joel? pshhhhhh. Am I asking for bratty! reader?? Pshhhhhh. Am I asking for anything???

Am I asking for smutty smut?! Yes I am.

Ofc if you are uncomfortable with any of these don’t hesitate to ignore this and also no pressure ily ❤️

a/n: reader isn't bratty, im sorry! i forgot :((

sleep

pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!virgin!reader

summary: Joel can’t stay away from you any longer.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, alcohol, voyeurism/somnophilia + dub-con, dry humping, cum in pants

wc: 4.0k

a/n: i hope this is dark enough!! the only reason the ask is a ss instead of the actual thing is cus i formatted the whole story then realized i forgot to put it in the reply to the ask (loosely proofread)

It’s 2 am and Joel can’t stop thinking about you. How you’re sleeping soundly in his room, in his bed, in his shirt as pajamas because you had “forgotten to pack some”, something you both knew was a lie. He knows you’re toying with him, you started a bit before, but since you’ve turned 18? It's just been on rapid fire.

He pulls out his phone and scrolls through your text thread, scoffing at every other conversation. It was so apparent, in every text, how badly you want him.

Mon, Aug 16 at 4:41 AM

bbg: big man! text me when u wake up i have a joke

You: Why are you awake at this time?

bbg: wtf why are YOU awake 🤨

You: I have trouble sleeping, you know that.

bbg: aww poor joey 😢

You: Are you going to answer my question, darling?

bbg: im doing skincare and stuff

You: You have to wake up this early for that stuff?

bbg: can’t put a price on feeling bonita

You: Why are you speaking Spanish now?

bbg: nevermind lmao

bbg: so have u tried meditation

You: What?

bbg: for your sleeping troubles

You: I’m not that kind of guy.

bbg: what about getting off

You: Excuse me?

bbg: like masturbation n stuff

You: I know what you’re saying.

You: I don’t understand why you’re talking about this with me.

bbg: we haven’t even talked about it 😭

bbg: obviously we can end the convo if ur uncomfy but its a very good way to fall asleep

He remembers needing a pause after he read that text for the first time. It had only been four months since your birthday and you were already drastically different. Joel never expected it, he always thought your feelings had already reached their limit but it turns out you were holding back because you weren’t of age. Now that you are… He doesn’t know what he’s going to do. His morals may not be strong enough for the thought of “ his best friend's daughter” to hold him back. He’s already rationalized himself out of the “daughter's best friend” thought. You’re not even going to school together anymore. Sarah lives on campus so you guys never see each other and you barely ever text.

You: I have not.

bbg: what? literally how?

bbg: you should

bbg: it totally works

You: That’s good to know.

You: Get back to your skincare, honey. I’ll message you later.

Mon, Aug 16 at 5:03 AM

bbg: joel?

Mon, Aug 16 at 5:37 AM

bbg: are you masturbating?

You: Sweetheart. You can’t ask me things like that. It’s not right.

bbg: u didnt answer! i got curious

You: Still.

bbg: i dont see the problem we’re both adults 🫢

You: Barely.

bbg: dont be mean

You: Do you need something

You: I said I’d text you later

bbg: wow no punctuation?

You: Busy

bbg: getting off?

He remembers staring at your text, unbelieving that you’d send him something like that, so forward, so dirty. He remembers the thought that you were joking. Obviously, you don’t expect him to say yes, that’s why you asked in the first place. Maybe his perverted mind was interpreting your behavior as flirting but you’re just being yourself around him. All these thoughts were swirling in his head but the feeling of his hand flying over his cock, pretending it’s yours, that you're in his ear whispering to him... That thought was stronger, that feeling was stronger.

You: Yes.

bbg: good. have fun, joey

He gets up for his fourth beer, hoping to drown the impure thoughts, starring you, that plague his mind. It’d be so easy to have you, you’ve been throwing yourself at him since you turned 17. He’s been ignoring it, adamantly. It wasn’t right, despite the age difference, the fact that you’re his daughter’s best friend and his best friend’s daughter. On top of that, you only just turned 18.

You’ve been staying at Joel’s for a month. He takes the guest room because you say that his bed is better. You haven’t gone home because your dad is still working on your birthday present/room renovations and he doesn't want you to see it until it’s done. He offered up Joel’s house to keep you, knowing his best friend wouldn't mind, unknowing that his best friend was corrupt for his daughter.

Joel was trying to ignore the way his body was heating up, still scrolling through the texts. He remembers that conversation perfectly. He remembers the adrenaline that was coursing through him as he confessed. He remembers how hard he came at your response. When thinking about this conversation he also remembers the guilt, it’s the most vivid emotion he remembers, usually. But the alcohol seems to be drowning that part out, and Joel scrolls on.

He finds a patch of texts that he actively avoids, usually. It’s picture after picture of you in the most adorable outfits in the most suggestive positions. There are plenty of you lying on your back, some with your head turned to show off your perfectly curved, unmarked, un-bitten, neck. There are a few where you’re sitting down with the camera angled up, giving Joel too many situations his head can come up with. Then there’s the worst one, his favorite- he doesn’t even know how you took this one. You’re sitting on your knees, hands rested on your thighs and you’re looking up at the camera with a shy smile.

There are two things about this photo that really fuck him up.

First, your smile, the way it lets him know that you’re trying to fuck him up, you know what you’re doing with this pose, this positioning, you’re even embarrassed by it, a little nervous about it but you still felt the need to take the photo, for him.

Second, the height, and the way the camera is positioned shows him that these photos were specifically crafted for him because the height the camera is at is exactly how he’d see you if you were on your knees like that for him.

You made sure that he noticed because the very next day, you needed him to tie a bow in your hair and instead of waiting for him to get off the couch you placed yourself on the ground, between his legs, in this pose. He had to hide his erection until you left and then fight the urge to get himself off in your room for the rest of the night.

He glances at his room door, you’re sleeping so soundly in there.

She wouldn’t even notice if someone went in there right now. She definitely wouldn’t notice me… Hell, as if she’d mind either way… I mean- Would she?

The alcohol clouds his thoughts, gives him bad ideas, and then convinces him that they’re good- this one being one of them. He grabs his almost-finished beer and heads to the fridge to grab a fifth one, knowing he’ll be in there for a while.

He does this sometimes, you look so peaceful when you sleep… it’s the only time he can admire you without putting all his relationships at risk. He reaches the door and turns the knob slowly to avoid creaking. He enters the room, his socks padding his footsteps, and the darkness gives him no shadow. He moves one of your tops off of his desk chair and turns it to face your sleeping figure while placing his beers down. You’re already bringing a smile to his face. You’ve got your face shoved into one of his pillows, your arm tucked under it, and your leg is pulled up to your waist, sticking out from under his tan comforter. You’re wearing one of his hoodies for sleepwear—

Fuck.

and it doesn’t look like you have anything on your bottom half. It’s a little cold in his room so little goosebumps have bloomed over your exposed skin. He takes a swig of beer, finishing his fourth as he examines you. Your face twitches for a moment, your eyebrows furrow, and your nose twitches like a rabbit before calming back down. He opens the other beer and fills his mouth with it, hoping that the alcohol stops the fluttering in his stomach while he drinks it down.

You shiver a bit but your leg doesn’t move, the goosebumps just become more prominent. His hand is reaching out for you before he can think, rubbing your calf gently to soothe and warm you up a bit. You let out a relieved sigh at his contact and your leg presses further into his warmth. He has to take a deep breath as his mind runs wild, convincing him that this is some sort of sign, that even in you’re sleep you’re trying to be closer to him, that he should just give in.

No, she’s your best friend's daughter. Sure she’s her own person now, legally an adult, an’ can make decisions for herself… an’ yeah she’s not owned or controlled by anyone and just cause I’m friends with her father ain’t a fair reason to completely rule her out from being a potential partner… Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad… maybe it’s actually more fucked up for me to avoid her just cause of who birthed her. That’s totally not fair to her! I mean I know I wouldn't want anyone judging me based on who my parents are y’know? Maybe I should put myself in her shoes.

His breathing speeds up as he breaks through his last piece of resistance. Now he’s just trying to figure out how soon he can have you.

I’ll have to court her first, flirt with her a bit before asking her out to dinner, then maybe she’ll accept my offer to be my girlfriend by the third date… From there maybe she’ll have sex with me for the three-month anniversary… she might be a bit more timid than that but we’re looking at a four- five-month plan… That can work- I can definitely work with that.

You whine and stretch your body, your legs straighten and your arms spread out, you turn and rest one arm on top of your head before you lift your leg, bending it above your waist but with the other one this time. The new position leaves the blanket covering nothing but one of your inner thighs and to add insult to injury your raised arms lift his hoodie, revealing a beautiful sliver of your stomach.

Or I could have her now.

The thought is too powerful to stop, his opportunity is too perfect, Ellie is out with whatever girl she’s currently entertaining, and Sarah doesn’t live here anymore. Your father would never be awake at this time and Joel is hard, wanting, and so so ready for you. He’s crawling into bed beside you after downing half his beer for the nerves.

He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t.

He settles next to you and your leg presses into him again, searching for him and his warmth. You slowly turn to him as he stares at you, watching how sluggish your movements are in your sleep. You snuggle into the pillow in front of him and take a long inhale of its scent, a little smile resting on your lips while you breathe out. Your face is inches from his, and his hand is down his pants in an instant.

The relief is heavenly, he’s been throbbing for you since he read those texts. He can’t help the way he reacts to you. He can smell your toothpaste on your breath as you gently snore in front of him. He wraps his warm hand around his cock and his soft lips part into an ‘O’. His eyes roll back for a second but he immediately focuses them back on you. He’s tugging at himself violently, not even thinking about savoring this moment, just needing to cum for you. He’s trying to hold in his sounds but you look so pretty, just seeing your face while he’s touching himself makes everything better, somehow you’ve turned his sensitivity as high as it can go.

Little whines and whimpers slip into your dream state. You’re confused by the sound, the rustling that coming from—? In front of you? Your brows furrow as you try to open your eyes. “Fuck” You hear someone say. It sounds like…

You open your eyes just in time to see Joel yank his hand out of his sweatpants and scramble as far as he can get from you before falling off the bed. You’re still confused as you take his form in. His shirt has ridden up a bit, exposing the salt and pepper hairs on his tummy. His hair is sticking all over the place, he stinks of beer, and his eyes are wide, focused on you. “Joey?”

Despite the horrid situation he’s in, his cock is still leaking for you, pulsing at the nickname. He can’t answer, he has to bite back a moan as he feels himself leak into the fabric of his pants. “Joel? What—” Your eyes flutter, almost falling shut but you shake yourself out of it and— Fuck.

You move closer to him.

You’re too snuggly when you’re sleeping, too cute, and too dumb. You’re not even questioning why your father’s best friend was in bed with you while you were sleeping. You don't want to risk him leaving and you don’t mind in the first place, you actually thought you were dreaming at first. Your heart almost stopped when your fingers actually latched onto his shirt after reaching out for him. He’s stiff as a board, deterring your touch so you pull your hands into your chest and bury your face in his.

Joel is almost shaking in exertion as you press your soft little body against his. It’s just your upper half, leaning into him and finding wam solace in his chest. He can handle this, he thinks. He can calm down, and be with you like this. He’s supposed to court you first anyway, he can’t believe himself. Was he really going to just get off with you in the same bed? What kind of pervert would even try something like that?

You hike your leg up over his waist, half asleep, not realizing your motions.

All his perverted feelings return with a vengeance.

You wiggle around a bit, trying to get comfortable but his cock twitches, flicking into your soft lips for a moment. At first, you really didn’t know what it was, all you knew was that the sensation felt good. So of course you chased it. Your hips grind into his cock arrhythmically, trying to find that same angle again, not realizing that you’re basically fucking him through your clothes. His hands have to come to your hips, gripping painfully for your eyes to snap open and your hips to freeze.

Your eyes widen further when you finally process the situation, and even in all your teasing and sensuality, at the end of the day, you’re still just a virgin. You never had any real intention of acting on your desires, especially if Joel wasn’t the one initiating.

Oh fuck. What did I do? What do I do? He’s just staring at me… Maybe he didn’t notice, I didn’t! But it felt so good. Will he let me? Maybe if I—

Your hips tilt into his before you can process whether this is actually a good idea or not. His hand tense over yours, like another shock of clarity through your bones. You shut your eyes tight, not wanting to see the disgust or uncomfortable pity in his face. “I’m so sorry, Joel. I didn’t… I-”

You try not to let tears well in your eyes as you whimper and pull back from him. But he doesn’t let you. His arms tense, his muscles flexing as he keeps your body pressed against his. You open your eyes, a bit shocked at his refusal to let you go but still too scared to meet his eyes. Your gaze is on his stomach, the way his gray shirt rode up, exposing the way his belly keeps tensing with every breath. “I-” He manages to get out before letting out a shuddering sigh. You finally look at him.

His eyebrows are pulled taut in between his eyes, his gaze is something you’ve never seen before, and he almost looks angry. It’s desperate, but sorrowful, with the added haze from his intoxication. He keeps biting at his bottom lip, worrying it red as he tries to form a sentence for you. His hands tense over your hips again but this time they tilt you into him again. His face is a hard grimace as he slowly presses you into his raging bulge. You watch him fight with his expression, it keeps breaking into something weak before he goes back to his angry pout. You can’t help the way you press into him, you want to feel it again, that fire in the pit of your stomach that spreads to your soaking pussy the more he pulls you in. You watch his face contort into something heavenly. His brows pull up, almost shocked at how good you feel as his eyes roll back and shut. His entire body shakes as he melts into the pillow. He’s breathing deep and slowly, trying to regulate the pleasure he feels.

Now he’s focused on savoring the moment. He wants this to last as long as it possibly can. You’re making him feel incredible, he’s so sensitive, it’s like he’s been edging himself for you. You whimper, high-pitched and muffled but it’s so beautiful that he forces his eyes open. You have one hand gripping the bedsheet like it’s your lifeline and you have the other bitten between your teeth to hold your sounds in. Your hips are grinding into him at an uneven, unsteady, desperate pace and he’s mesmerized by the sight.

He knew you wanted him. He didn’t know you needed him. You’re fucking yourself against his cock like you’ve been waiting for it your whole life. Your hand comes up to grip his shoulder instead of the bedsheet. He grunts and tilts his hips further into yours, a sadistic smirk coming to his face at the sound of exclamation that shoots from your mouth once you’re able to grind your clit against his shaft. Your thrusts start to stutter at that, your body constantly wanting to fold in on itself from the assault of pleasure but you try and will yourself to keep going.

Unfortunately, your pace is ruined by your pleasure. Your sensitive body can’t handle how good his clothed cock is making you feel. You lose your pace and your pleasure becomes rocky and teasing. He watches as your face changes from pleasured to pouty. Little whimpers and whines of frustration slip from your lips, growing in volume and frequency the longer you’re unable to grind against him properly. Joel’s watching you through hooded eyes, fingers digging into your hips painfully at this point and all he wants is to not cum yet. He wants to make you cum first, he needs it, he needs to see it, to hear it.

He’s been telling himself it’s fine because you’re grinding against him, not the other way around. You’re choosing this, there’s no way he’s manipulating you, or swaying your decision if he stays completely indifferent. But you’re begging him now. You’re gripping desperately at his shirt, removing your hand from your mouth to grip him harder and pulling yourself closer, wrapping your arms around and moaning right against his chest. He shouldn’t. He can’t. But he does.

His eyes shut tight as his hands leave your hips. You almost climb on top of him in protest, whining a loud “N- Please.” into his chest as your leg hikes higher onto his waist. One of his hands cradles your head, pulling you further into his chest, muffling the moans you’re already letting out at his touch. His other hand goes to the small of your back, pressing you against him perfectly and guiding your rhythm as your hips start up again. He dares to speak. “S’this okay, baby?”

Your reaction to his voice is visceral. Your hands shoot up to his shoulder and hair, pulling yourself up a bit to bury in his neck, getting a new angle from his cock, now fucking him against your leaking hole. “So good, Joey. Thank- Thank you s’much. Thank you, thank you.” Your gratitude is like a searing knife through him. His entire body is set alight as he tries to regulate his breathing. He can feel goosebumps break out on his skin, his pleasure filling every molecule in his body, ready to overflow for you. Fuck. He’s definitely going to cum before you.

“Mm. Good, good girl. Just- Keep going, sweetness, take what— Shit. Take what you need, darlin’.” His breathing quickens and shudders as your hips increase their pace against him. He’s leaking continuously now, he’s getting in his head, trying to stop himself from cumming but every thought that pops into his mind just brings him closer to the edge. He can’t focus on anything but you. You’re moaning for him, grinding against him, this desperate for him.

The hand on your lower back migrates to the back of your neck, gripping you there, holding you in place as his hips begin to thrust into yours. “M’gonna cum, darlin’. Fuck, I wanted t- wanted to last for y- Mmm oh fuck.” His entire body starts to tremble as your nails dig into him so painfully he’s sure they drew blood. Your eyes are comically wide as your body tenses in his hold before breaking down into a shudder that overtakes your entire being. You’re cumming.

He explodes at the realization. In all his desperation, intoxication, and pure need… He was still able to make you cum first. He buries his face in your hair, huffing the scent as he floods his sweatpants. His eyes shut as tightly as they can as his orgasm tears through him. He’s been waiting so long for you to make him cum and now that it’s happening, it feels even better than he planned for. His low grunts turn into shocked moans when his orgasm doesn’t stop after shooting two ropes of cum against his sweats. You’re already coming down as he hits what feels like his second peak. You can feel his hands shaking over where they’re gripping you and you get an impulse that you act on without a second thought.

Your hand slides down from his shoulder quickly, over the sliver of stomach he’s showing off, and right down his pants. You don’t know what you’re doing so you just grip him, wrapping your hand around his shaft but it seems to do the trick. He lets out a sound that resembles someone getting kicked in the gut. His face is pulled from your hair as his head is thrown back. He arches into you a bit before his hips start thrusting into your fist, desperately prolonging his already overwhelming orgasm. It’s embarrassing; how long he was cumming for, the way his body was violently quivering for you, the ludicrously large dark spot spreading over his pants, showcasing how much he came for you.

He moans gently when he comes to. You’re stroking over his chest with a soft, sleepy, nervous smile. He pulls you in for a kiss before he can think about it. You guys haven’t discussed anything. Neither of you knows what this means for your relationship but you know that neither of you has felt more comfortable than when you’re in the arms of the other. So why question it now?

You fall into a deep sleep listening to Joel’s heavy snores, getting rocked to bed by the way his chest expands. It’s the best sleep of your life.

thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist!

psst psst. hey you!! i have a part 2 if u want 😏

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drunk-fantasies · 6 months

Text

ex’s and oh’s

+18 content, minors dni

ex!Sunghoon x fem!reader / 1,6k words / mention of break up, unprotected sex, oral (m. receiving) / note: well, it’s been a while guys, i don’t think i’m going to post as much as i used to but here’s something from my drafts :)) / mlist

explicit content under the cut!

“why didn’t you tell me he’s going to be here?” you asked your friend almost too loud.

her brows furrowed in a question. “who are you talking about?”

“my ex, who else?” fury and anger filled your body, and you motioned your head in his direction.

she glanced over your shoulder, spotting none other but sunghoon sitting on the couch and talking to some girl.

“if only i knew he’s gonna come. my brother probably invited him” she shrugged and continued preparing her drink. you sighed loudly bringing her attention. “i thought you were over him already?”

“because i am?” you said in a tone a bit too harsh.

“what’s with the attitude, y/n? i’m just asking since you look disappointed.”

“yeah, disappointed i have to see his face here when i want to have fun. he always makes everything so much worse.” you took a drink from her and clinked your glasses.

“don’t look at him then? there are so many guys you could talk to, yet you worry about your ex who doesn’t want anything to do with you, just like you.” her rational tone made you even more angry.

she intently watched your expression drop at her words. a little smile crept on her lips at this reaction. she knew you still weren’t over him. and she knew damn well that you didn’t want anything to do with guys that weren’t him.

sunghoon smiled slightly at the completely wasted girl who almost undid his belt, not minding all the people around them.

that’s when something inside you snapped. with a confident look you made your way through the crowd across the room to finally stand in front of him. his attention immediately went to your form and just before he managed to say something you said: “come with me.”

you didn’t even wait for any reaction. you just went upstairs hoping he would follow you. you opened the door to your friend’s bedroom and thankfully found nobody inside. not hearing any footsteps behind you, you closed your eyes, already imagining scenes that must be happening downstairs. but then, you heard the sound of the door closing and you felt the presence of another person.

“are you going to tell me why you decided to interrupt her? i was kinda enjoying our conversation,” he spoke in that specific tone, only you were familiar with.

you turned around to face him. he knew what you wanted him for, so he just waited for how you were going to express your need. he watched as you first took a step closer, way too close for an ex-girlfriend. you slowly took off the straps of your dress and let it slide down your body.

a small smirk formed on his lips as you said: “i think i know what you might enjoy a bit more.”

your confidence, the strong look on your face, and the way you stood in just your underwear in front of him made his bulge more evident. you took a look at his pants and just as you expected, you noticed how hard he was.

just when you looked up at him, you felt his hand on your head, brushing away your hair. leaning in whispered straight to your ear: “i know you do.”

without breaking eye contact you slowly went down on your knees, now facing his crotch. with painfully slow motions you started unbuckling his belt. his dark eyes watched your every move, noticing how they started to increase the tempo. he wasn’t the only one to get impatient.

when you finally slipped down his pants along with his boxers you were met with his hard dick, leaking with hot precum. you gave it a slow lick from the base to the tip making sunghoon throw his head back. the anticipation to already feel your mouth around his cock was big, but not wanting to let you know how he missed you was a bit stronger.

but as soon as you started to give it little kitten licks he hissed loudly, impatience hitting him harshly. that’s all you wanted. to know that you weren’t the one who wanted him back. he needed you just like you did.

slowly you started sucking him off, hollowing your cheeks to double up the pleasure. he let out a satisfied deep sigh. just when the tempo of you bobbing your head on his dick he gathered your hair in a makeshift ponytail to guide the speed.

you waited for this moment since the day you broke up with him. he pushed your head to the point your nose hit his pelvis. you grabbed his thighs for support while he bucked his hips against your throat. the room got filled with his grunts and wet sounds of him basically face fucking you. without any warning, his cum spilled down your throat.

wanting to show him that you swallowed all of it you opened your mouth but it was soon shut up with his lips. in a moment you were laying on the bed, him hovering above you already shirtless, placing kisses all over your body. his hands grabbed your tits after he freed them from your bra. his lips trailed down to your stomach when you stopped him. he immediately looked up at you, confused.

“please just fuck me already,” you whined, not satisfied by the mere touch of his hands. you needed him deep inside your core.

he quickly got rid of your panties and brought you closer by your thighs. his length poked your entrance and with closed eyes, you waited for him to finally push it in. when he did, your eyes rolled back in pleasure and you subconsciously wrapped your legs around his waist.

“fuck, sunghoon,” you moaned at his initial slow thrusts, that only grew in speed.

his breath shuddered with your every whimper, stimulating the feelings he buried deep inside. how he missed the view he had right in front of him. you chanting his name like a most beautiful serenade, looking the most vulnerable you possibly could. how he missed being able to show you his love, show you that his heart truly belonged only to you. nobody else was more important, no matter how many girls tried to get into his pants, you were at the back of his mind.

“i love how your body reacts to me,” he spoke just above your ear, feeling your walls clench around him.

both the sounds of his soft voice and skin slapping made you shiver and let out a long whine. in a daze, you brought him closer to feel that sweet taste of his lips on yours. your tongues twirled around each other, while his hand continuously travelled along your side.

in no time you felt a knot in your stomach untie, leaving you completely worn out. soon he pulled out with a low grunt, a small puddle of his cum forming on your belly. without saying a single word he reached for a box of tissues from the bedside table and quietly wiped it clean.

both of you sat and waited for the other one to break the silence. but the longer you waited the more painful it got. you thought you made a mistake. he was your ex after all, with whom you broke up pretty brutally. you must have had a good reason right?

right?

but why did you actually break up with him? did he cheat? no. did you? definitely not. was he violent? possessive? unloving? no, no, and no.

you tried your best to remember what truly happened between you to make such a decision, not knowing that he tried to recall those events too.

“sunghoon,” you finally called his name, breaking the agonising silence. it took him a while to look at you, but once he did he noticed how tears brimmed in your eyes. “i’m so sorry,” you said and your voice broke.

seeing that he pulled you towards him, letting you cry in his arms.

“i didn’t mean all the things i said to you and i didn’t want to hurt you. i love you and i don’t know how to fix it. it’s all my fault,” you cried, words almost completely muffled by his skin.

he tried his best not to cry too, but hearing your voice cracking up and barely managing to catch your breath handicapped him doing so.

“it’s not only your fault. i shouldn’t have let you go.” he looked at you, vision blurry from his tears. “my ego was so hurt i just decided it would be best for us. but i think we both agree it’s not, right?” he chuckled and you smiled at his words. “i love you, y/n, so much it actually hurts.” he placed his hand on his chest dramatically, bringing a peal of small laughter out of you, the laughter he adored so much.

“i can’t with you.” you shook your head in disbelief. he raised his eyebrow. “i love you too,” you said with an eye roll.

“oh, so you’re playing like that?” he said, fakely indignant. you knew what it meant, but it was already too late. within seconds you were laughing uncontrollably and squirming under his tickles.

“i’m sorry! i mean that, i love you!” you managed to confess between your giggles and let out a breath of relief once he stopped.

sunghoon laughed heartily at your reaction. before you could say something he hovered above you and kissed you slowly and passionately. his hand stroked your cheek lightly and you tangled your fingers in his hair. it got heated with every time your lips brushed against each other. his lips once again trailed down your neck to your boobs and finally pelvis. you watched his every move, hand still holding his hair. just when he was almost touching your clit with his nose, his head raised: “your friend wouldn’t mind if we spend just a bit longer here, would she?”

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enha hard hours #enha smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen sunghoon hard hours #sunghoon hard hours #enhypen sunghoon smut #sunghoon smut #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x you #sunghoon drabbles #sunghoon hard thoughts #enha hard thoughts

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clusterbuck · 1 year

Note

"don’t hog the blanket." (bonus if it's pre-relationship teehee)

chimney insists it isn’t a destination wedding, since he and maddie went to the courthouse the day after he proposed and made it official.

(“just—you know. tomorrow isn’t promised, and all that,” he’d said, and the gathered frontrunners of the guinness world record for most deaths evaded, also known as his closest friends and colleagues, had nodded.

“and we don’t want to do a whole big thing, anyway,” he’d added. “we have a kid and a house. there are approximately seventy-three betters ways for us to spend that kind of money, and that’s just off the top of my head.”)

but everyone agreed there should be something—some way of celebrating their marriage, and maybe also the fact that they’re all still alive. as time goes by, it feels more and more like something to celebrate.

there’s some arguing, several votes, and some creative scheduling on bobby’s part, and they end up with a long weekend at an airbnb an hour outside of los angeles, spouses invited but children not.

buck drives them both up, because of course he does. the only discussion had been what time should i pick you up? and eddie tries to ignore it, like he always tries to ignore the way he and buck default to each other time and time again.

it doesn’t mean anything, he tells himself. it’s just that you’ve been friends for so long, and know each other so well, and sometimes when you close your eyes you imagine him—

it doesn’t mean anything, he tells himself. everything is fine.

they leave after maddie finishes a shift, and get in around dinner time. straws are drawn over who gets to make dinner, and bobby emerges the lucky winner.

“why don’t the rest of you get settled in the meantime?” he suggests. “i’ll be quick.”

maddie starts handing out room keys, although eddie’s not entirely sure why any of them will need a bedroom door that locks.

he’s also not entirely sure he wants to find out.

“oh,” maddie says, looking up at him and buck. “i thought—hm. there’s not as many rooms as i thought there’d be.”

buck frowns. “meaning?”

“can you two share a room?” maddie asks. “just—everyone else is. well. married.” she laughs a little, then looks down at the floor, self-conscious. chimney shows up out of nowhere to press a kiss to her temple.

eddie blinks. he’d known this, of course, on an objective, rational level—but it hits him now, standing in the living room of this airbnb with it’s large windows for gorgeous natural light and whatever the fuck else the description had said.

everyone else is married.

everyone else is married, but more often than not he and buck are treated as an equivalent unit anyway. despite not being married. despite not even being—

“yeah, no problem,” buck says, then turns to look at eddie, something hiding behind the grin on his face. “just don’t hog the blanket.”

eddie scoffs. “you’re one to talk.”

“okay, excuse me,” buck says, “i have never woken with the entire blanket hidden behind my back—”

“that was one time—”

“okay,” maddie says, holding the key out to buck and trying and failing to cover up a laugh. “so you’ll be fine, then.”

yeah, eddie thinks. definitely. it’ll be fine.

and he manages to believe it all the way through dinner, and a surprisingly intense round of charades. he believes it all the way through changing into the pyjamas he’s glad he thought to bring, focusing on organising the pairs of socks in his duffel bag so he doesn’t accidentally catch a glimpse of buck.

then they crawl into bed, eddie avoiding looking at buck so intently that he doesn’t notice buck avoiding looking at him, and—

“you’re doing it,” buck grumbles. “you’re hogging the blanket.”

“am not,” eddie shoots back. “you’re hogging the blanket. i barely have any of it.”

“stop yanking,” buck says. “maybe if you weren’t so far away—”

“you’re far away,” eddie says without thinking, and beside him, buck huffs.

“i’m just gonna—” he mutters, then shuffles around, until suddenly his arm is thrown over eddie’s waist and his face is pressed to eddie’s shoulder. his feet tangle with eddie’s, and the blanket settles comfortably over both of them.

“there,” buck mumbles. “room for both of us.”

eddie makes a noise, one that he hopes buck will interpret as assent. as anything, really, other than what it is, which is eddie’s brain short-circuiting at the feeling of buck’s chest against his back. the weight of buck’s arm on him, and the way buck’s hand has slipped just under the hem of eddie’s t-shirt, his warm fingers splayed against the bare skin of eddie’s stomach. he’s pretty sure that when they get out of bed in the morning, the shape of buck’s hand will be seared into his skin.

he’s imagined this, once or twice before. what it would be like to share a life with buck, to have all these liminal moments he misses out on with the way things are now, the almost-but-not-quite that they never talk about. he’s imagined it, and if felt just like this, right down to how cold buck’s toes are when they brush against his legs and how eddie can’t bring himself to pull away.

but it doesn’t mean anything, eddie tells himself. everything is fine.

only—buck settles in closer and sighs, and eddie, who has spent years listening to every sound buck makes, recognises this one.

this is the sound buck makes when he’s home.

only one bed prompts 🛏️

#911fic #buddie #buddie fic #ask emma #queerbuck #emma writes

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birdiewriteslit · 2 months

Text

wildest dreams au

luke hughes x abigail abernathy

masterlist

note: this took me a week bc i have to go to school sorry y’all

abyabynathy

tagged _quinnhughes, lhughes06, jackhughes

Liked by jackhughes and 1,896,245 others

abyabynathy the boys are back in town

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_quinnhughes DAMN STRAIGHT🗣️🗣️

jackhughes @/_quinnhughes 🙄🙄

abyabynathy @/jackhughes looks like someone’s mad about the loss

jackhughes @/abyabynathy don’t accuse me

rudeth skipping the bruins game??

abyabynathy @/rudeth this is the only exception

user1 @/rudeth why is he commenting

user2 @/rudeth are yall back together or something

trevorzegras when will you come to my game

abyabynathy @/trevorzegras @/dixiedamelio come get your man

user3 @/abyabynathy HER WHAT.

ekat19 miss my girl

abyabynathy @/ekat19 shameless days>>

madelyncline LOVE YOU DEAREST

❤️ by author

jamie.drysdale collab when🤔

abyabynathy @/jamie.drysdale hmmm

user1 @/jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras well well well

January 6, 2024

—

messages 9:40 pm

jack: so what is going on with you and luke

jack: you guys were being weird earlier

abigail: jack we’re in the same room just talk to me

jack: luke’s in the other room i am being safe

abigail: whatever

jack: so why has he been ignoring you all night and why does quinn know and i don’t

abigail: how do you know that quinn knows🤨

jack: bc he told me not to ask

abigail: yet here we are

jack: i dont like the vibes i need to fix them this is weird

jack: you never fight

abigail: fine he’s mad bc i made peace with rudy and i was with him the other day

jack: is that it

jack: your breakup was toxic but if you’re good with him now idk why luke would be mad about it

—

Abigail bit her lip, glancing at Jack from across the couch. “There is something else,” she said quietly.

Jack looked up from his phone and set it down beside him. “What is it?”

“You can’t say anything to anyone because Luke and I haven’t talked about it yet.” Abigail scooted closer to Jack and held up her pinky.

Jack intertwined his pinky with hers and motioned with his other hand that his lips were zipped. “I won’t tell a soul.”

“Okay,” Abigail said cautiously. “Luke and I kissed on New Year’s.”

Jack’s eyes blew wide. “What?” he practically shouted. Abigail slapped her hands over his mouth.

“Shut the fuck up!” she reprimanded through gritted teeth.

Jack made wild gestures with his hands and pushed hers away from his face. “That’s not what I thought you were going to say. You can’t just do that!”

Abigail shrugged. “Well, sorry to be blunt but I’m not sure how else you wanted me to say it.”

“I cannot fucking believe this,” Jack whispered. Abigail felt obligated to say something, but Jack brought his finger up to shush her. “You told Quinn and not me?”

Abigail rolled her eyes. “No, idiot. He just knows Luke’s mad about Rudy. He doesn’t know about the kiss thing.”

Jack grinned. “So I’m special.”

“You are not special,” Abigail said, exasperated. “I just don’t know what to do about this. He hasn’t said anything about it.”

“Abby, he’s probably waiting for you to say something,” Jack rationalized. “You know how he is.”

“Maybe. Should I talk to him about it?” Abigail asked.

Jack looked hesitant. “Can I ask you something?”

“What?”

“Do you love him?”

Abigail’s eyes widened and she felt her heartbeat quicken in her chest. “Jack, what?”

“I’m serious, Abby,” he said, his face stern.

“Jesus, I don’t know. I don’t even know where to go from here,” she admitted, running a nervous hand through her hair.

“You better figure it out because this is a big thing and I don’t want either of you getting hurt,” he said seriously.

“I know.” Abigail nodded solemnly.

“Do you want to be with him or not?” Jack asked finally.

Abigail thought for a moment. She always stopped herself from thinking about Luke like this. It felt forbidden to want him the way that she knew she did.

That night, when they kissed, it felt like she was on fire. She had never felt like that with any of her exes, not even Rudy. She always felt different when she was around Luke. He wasn’t her brother like Jack and Quinn were. He never was, even when they were kids. She knew the answer to Jack’s first question.

“I do,” she confessed softly.

“Then you know what to.”

“Yeah.”

Jack stood from the couch. “Goodnight, Abby.”

“Goodnight, Jack.”

#birdiewriteslit #birdiewritesfics #wildest dreams au #abigail abernathy #luke hughes x abigail abernathy #luke hughes x oc #luke hughes fic #luke hughes #lh43 #smau #media edit #nhl fic #nhl #nj devils #jack hughes #quinn hughes #birdie’s aus #birdie’s edits

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seokminkisser · 9 months

Text

11:42 PM

seungcheol is a bit of a toxic ass in here, this is not how i see him he’s my baby boy <3333 but also i just needed to write something angsty so please enjoy and leave some feedback!!!

seungcheol didn’t know how it had gotten this far.

he wholeheartedly did not even believe he was a jealous person but something about mingyu’s hand on your arm made him see red.

he was a lucky man, he knew that for a fact and everyday spent with you reinforced the love he held for you. he trusted you, he really did. and yet, his jealousy seemed to always get the best of him.

on his left, he heard you giggle at something one of the boys said and although your hand was intertwined with his, the fact that you were giving someone your beautiful smile that should be only his made him want to claw his heart out.

you must have noticed that seungcheol was not really present in the gathering, your thumb making slow circles on his hand as he knocks back a few more shots. seungcheol squeezes your hand and leans down to whisper into your ear: “can we go, please.”

minutes later after saying your goodbyes, you were walking to your apartment, hands still clasped tight. seungcheol is quiet and he knows it’s bothering you but he also knows that if he opens his mouth he might say something he regrets.

reaching your door you turn to him and you give him a soft smile and seungcheol feels his heart bursting and he can’t keep it in anymore.

“why do you always do this.”

you frown a little and tilt your head to the side as you look at your boyfriend and seungcheol feels small under your gaze but the alcohol is spurring him on.

“do what?”

“you know exactly what i’m talking about, you seem to always be so happy to flirt with my friends.” seungcheol says, and he feels in the back of his mind that the words he is using are wrong, he is saying everything all wrong and when you abruptly let go of his hand he can feel the dread already settling in.

“what the fuck are you trying to say seungcheol?”

you used his full name. you rarely use his full name. he knows he should take it back, apologize, explain his feelings in a rational manner and yet his soju filled mind takes over and he cannot stop talking.

“you and mingyu were so close together tonight. don’t you know he likes you? are you that naive that you can’t see it? do you just have no respect for our relationship, because you seem to have no problem embarrassing me like that in front of my friends.”

“what—“

“i bet if i hadn’t been there you would have just fucked him wouldn’t you.”

the minute the words leave his mouth his heart plummets and he wants to take it back and he wants to apologize and wipe away the tears softly falling down your cheeks. he wants to get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness, he wants to do so many things to make you feel better and yet his feet stay rooted on the ground. staring at you as you hug yourself looking at him with so much pain in your tear filled eyes.

“why would you say that.”

“because you keep fucking flirting with him right in front of my eyes? if you can do that in front of me i don’t even want to know what you would do when i’m not around.”

the slap you deliver on his left cheek comes before he finishes his sentence. he knows that he deserves it and he thinks now it’s time to apologize, beg for your forgiveness, put the nonsense he just spouted behind you.

“fuck you seungcheol. i am so sick and fucking tired of you not trusting me.” you say and turn your back to him, shaky hands trying to unlock your door.

“and yet you’re not answering me, i must have hit a nerve right?”

someone should just fucking shoot me at this point.

you turn around, the pain in your eyes filled with anger, anger so burning it seems to drain all the alcohol fogging seungcheol’s brain.

“we’re done.” you say, fingers fumbling as you pry your silver promise ring off your left hand. seungcheol watches you with wide eyes and suddenly everything is clear. what the fuck was he doing?

“wait, what? baby wait—“

“no, seungcheol you wait. i cannot do this anymore. at first i thought your jealousy and possessiveness was cute and all but now it’s making me rip my hair out. your mistrust in me shows that you don’t respect me as a partner and frankly i care too much about my well being to let you talk down to me the way you do. i don’t even know who you are right now.”

the tears are still falling down your face as you take seungcheols hand and drop your ring in his palm. his eyes are searching yours as he scrambles to collect himself and the string of apologies resting on his tongue. he moves to speak but you interrupt him as you finally press your door open.

“do not contact me. ever. i will leave your things outside my door tomorrow so you can pick them up. i never want to see you again.”

with that you slam the door shut in his face and seungcheol falls to his knees in front of your door, forehead pressed against the wood.

he fucked up.

#lina’s works #seventeen #svt x reader #seventeen angst #seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol angst #seungcheol drabble

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ms--lobotomy · 3 months

Text

A short and sweet Fulgrim fic because I can’t sleep 💜 A bit of a continuation of this one.

Word Count: 609

You heard your name called from behind you. You snapped your head around as you saw your lover hurriedly rush towards you, armor clanking with every step. The placid look that normally adorned his face was replaced by something else. His typically well-kept hair was strewn about, and his eyebrows were knit into a worried look.

“I believe that you left something somewhere you shouldn’t have, darling,” he said. Your heart sank. It was your sketchbook.

You remembered it clearly. Broken graphite, messed up portraits, tears hitting the delicate paper. In your rational brain, you knew that he loved you, thought highly of your art. You knew that your art was not the reason he loved you. That didn’t stop you from tearing your desk apart, picking up all of your art supplies and chucking them into the nearest bin you could find.

Your art wasn’t good enough for him, a demigod of a man. His portraits looked ready to forgo the paint from which they came and come into their own. His music was always perfectly played, no matter what instrument he decided to play. He could console you, placate you all he wanted. It would never make up for the decades, centuries he had to perfect his craft.

“Huh?” was all you managed to blurt out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m no artist. Not anymore.” You shuffled your feet while you spoke, picking at a stray hangnail. Anything to avoid this encounter.

He stepped closer to you. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” He was so close that his foot was almost wedged between your legs. “Do you make art?” he asked.

You looked up at him. You felt like he should be smirking, having a “gotcha!” moment. But his face was stone cold serious. “It’s not very good,” you said quietly. You pulled your hangnail off, and a spritz of pain emanated from the impact.

“I never asked if it was good,” Fulgrim said. He was close to you, you had to crane your neck up to look at him. “I only asked if you made it.”

You gulped. He loomed over you, large and imposing. “I did,” you finally managed to croak out. “I did. I made it, and now I don’t—“

“You’re an artist,” Fulgrim said, cutting you off.

You backed away from your lover, nearly hitting the wall behind you. “If your definition involves someone making art, then yes, I am an artist. But…” you trailed off. You saw Fulgrim thumbing through your sketchbook, his eyes finally diverted from you.

“I like this one,” he said, pointing out a fullbody rendition of himself with a misshapen muscle structure. A misshapen muscle structure, in your opinion. “It’s very flattering.” The gentle smile you’d come to know was back like an old friend.

“You think so?” Your voice was soft and sincere.

“Why would I lie to you?” he asked. “I told you once and I told you again. Your art is wonderful.” He knelt down to your level, extending an arm to the wall. You were pinned. You were trapped. “Promise me you won’t stop creating.”

“Or?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow. You felt the tension in your shoulders relax. You quickly looked away.

“Or I will be quite disappointed,” said Fulgrim, using the hand previously set upon the wall to cup your face.

You sighed, felt your face go warm, and leaned into it. “Alright,” you said after a moment of silence. You looked up at him as his hand trailed down your neck to your collarbone, lightly exploring its contours. You smiled. He chuckled.

“Never stop making things.”

#primarch x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #fulgrim x reader #reader insert #fulgrim #warhammer lobotomy #what was that bob ross quote about waiting on the good times #also i wrote this on my phone #never doing that again xx

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 2 months

Text

Week 1-4: Yandere Apocalypse - Uvil Penz

Original Post

Getting to meet everyone was nice and all but it’s entirely different from living with them

When it comes to sleeping arrangements the Penz brother’s each had their own rooms

Naturally Marco was sharing with Aria

Willaim with Simpson

Leaving Uvil who speedily offered to room with you

“If you wouldn’t mind (Y/n), maybe you should stay with me.”

Of course Henrietta and Grant would have a problem with this

Both of them whining about the other as you let Uvil usher you away from the living room

“C’mon don’t leave me with this crazy broad!”

“Nooo! But (Y/n) reminds me the most of my baby! I need to sleep with them! THIS IS SO UNFAIR-”

With the clicks of multiple locks he decides you both are ready to turn in for the night

“Just for safety. After all you don’t really know these…strangers yet.”

“Uh thanks.”

You try to ignore the fact you don’t really know him either

But with a sporadically themed bedroom with two beds and a full bathroom, you’re not complaining

Because of your closeness with one another it’s natural as tiredness tugs at your eyes that you confide in him

“I for one, am glad you survived. I’m sorry for the emptyiness you feel but I think you’ve filled something for all of us…especially me.”

It’s nice when he says sweet things to you

And when he leads the group with grace

Or when he makes a fair meal plan for everyone to follow with the refrigerated and canned rations

…it just gets weird when he so easily adapts to the invasive demands of the group

Siphoning your time like some prized toy

“(Y/n) will not be drinking from you for at least another day…your behavior with the food rations is to blame.”

“THAT IS SO UNFAIR!WAAAAHHH!”

“Ha weird idiot, instead they’ll have to endure my ultimate smackdown…in the gaming room.”

“No to you too little brother.”

“What?! What did I do!?”

“Marco says you made Aria cry and he refused to operate the drones we have outside because of that. Thus you’ve lost your (Y/n)-privileges.”

“That’s….so unfair...”

Of course he doesn’t bother to ask you at all despite how polite he is pretends to be

But he has no problem intertwining his hand with yours while he goes around the bunker taking inventory

Or encouraging you to watch movies while cuddled up beside him

Its not so bad

It’s a great way to get used to the bunker life

With Uvil’s guidance you’ll start to get used to this new way of life

And by the end of the 2nd week you’re starting to find your way on your own

But Uvil will never let that happen

Still hovering around you and monitoring your time despite your independence

“Space? (Y/n) you’re my dearest bunker-mate, of course I worry about you.”

It’s annoying but he’s far from the worst person in the bunker

Unbeknownst to you, Uvil’s only the best at hiding his obsession with you

When he’s not by your side he’s watching the cameras intensely for everyone’s movements

3 monitors dedicated to you

What camera room?

The camera room only the Penz brothers seem to know about and none of them will confess

Not only being your most devoted watcher he’s the only one free enough to suffocate on the sheets you slept in

To touch keep the dirty laundry you share with him

Or the access he gets to your journal entries

But the best thing of all is the closeness he’s granted as your first real friend

“(Y/n) would you like a massage while we watch a horror movie? I know you’ve been feeling tense lately and I want nothing more than to help you relieve that.”

He knows a month is all he’ll get away with

Before the others start to riot

But this will be enough…for now

“I’m going to miss you (Y/n)...but it’s a small cycle. You’ll be back with me before you notice. And you’ll always find a safe space in my bed room.”

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere harem #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x y/n #yandere uvil penz #yandere apocalypse #yandere original characters #yandere original character #yandere apocalypse oc x reader #yandere apocalypse bunker

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hannahssimblr · 1 month

Text

“Evan, can I sit?”

He glances up at me and shrugs, patting the ground next to him so I slump down heavily on it and take a healthy gulp from my bottle.

“You good, man?”

“Yeah, amazing.”

“I, uh, I see you were chatting to Leah, there? You know each other?”

“Nah.”

“Really? Well... she’s a weirdo anyway, you’re better off getting away from her, like, I just sell her weed and stuff, I don’t really like when she hangs around too long.”

“Yeah, fair enough.”

“Was she being weird with you?”

“Nope.”

We’re silent as we watch the flames. I begin to wonder what time it is, and whether I've stayed long enough now for it to be acceptable to go home. As I watch all of the other friends around the fire have fun together I’m struck by how much of an outsider I really am. Sure, Rob and Katie are nice, but will any of that niceness extend into normal life with the eyes of everyone else at school upon us? Surely they will go back to the steps at the back of the school while I go back to the rugby changing rooms, or the library, as it may be and things will resume as they are, as they've always been and always will be. Realistically, would they ever be seen with me? Would I ever be seen with them? There's this weird, empty feeling in me, a feeling that just compounds day after day, month after month, year after year, and it's like I don’t belong anywhere or to anyone. I'm just floating in the in-between, and who even am I? What does it mean to even-

“Hey,” Evan interrupts my spiralling inner dialogue, “I meant to say to you that it’s cool that you came along, you know, even when Jen and Michelle didn’t.”

This takes me by surprise, “You think?”

“Yeah, I mean, I suppose I kind of thought you were just hanging out with us sometimes because of them, and that you didn’t really want to be there, but,” a shrug, “I suppose that isn’t true.”

“No, I like hanging out with you.”

“And it’s not just because you’ve been ostracised by your other friends?”

I hesitate for a beat, “No.”

Evan laughs, “Wow, I’m so convinced!”

“No, come on,” I rock to the side and nudge his shoulder with mine, “Like, yeah, sometimes it’s nice to have Jen here, but I’m fine, I can handle myself around the emos… and as for Michelle, well, she hates me, so it’s actually kinda comfier when she’s not here, and- oh,” I realise immediately what I’ve said, “um, well I don’t really mean that, it-”

“No, it’s okay,” Evan says, “I know that you two aren’t exactly best friends or anything.”

“Ah, so she’s talked to you about me.”

“Nah, you’ve honestly never come up in conversation.”

“Somehow that’s worse.”

He snickers.

“How are, um,” I pick at the beer label with my thumb, “How are things going with you guys? Like, the last time we talked you were feeling kinda…”

A sigh, “Oh, yeah, it’s the same. Like, she’s so nice but sometimes I don’t feel like I get enough from her.”

“Uh huh.”

“I kind of get a bit annoyed about it sometimes, like, how are we supposed to be together properly if I hardly see her? Like, man, she’s allowed to come to my house like, once a week. In the afternoon. And that’s the only time we can… uh, hook up or whatever. It’s so annoying.”

“Just from an outsider's perspective, you know, you seem pretty happy.”

“Yeah. She’s definitely into me,” He musses up and fixes his fringe, “I dunno. It’s fine, just sometimes I wonder about shit. You know what I mean, right?”

“I’m probably not the best person to ask, seeing none of my relationships have worked out so far, and I’m also fairly drunk, so…”

“But you know what it’s like to be with someone who wouldn’t give you the things you needed, right?”

“Yeah, ‘course.”

“So you do get it.”

“Mm, I suppose,” as our conversation tapers off I let my mind drift into thoughts about love and loneliness and the hollow disappointment of all of my relationships. These are bitter, useless, self destructive thoughts as usual, made even worse by the fact that I’m not exactly capable of rational thought while inebriated. Is drinking bad for me? Am I a miserable drunk? I have to physically shake myself out of my own head before I start talking myself into a hole again.

I turn to Evan to start saying something else about, I don’t know, whether he’s ever tried pranking someone by turning their school bag inside out and putting the books back into it or something stupid like that, but I see he’s distracted by something else across the bonfire.

It’s that girl with the pink hair. She’s leaning over a bag to rummage for more beer, and her short skirt rides up when she’s bent over like that so that her underwear is visible through the sheer material of her tights. I frown at the dirty little smirk on his face, the way hungry eyes follow her movements, and the look between them as she glances over her shoulder and sees him watching her. I nudge my knee against his to interrupt whatever is going on.

“Wow, nice legs, huh?”

He looks at me, surprised, but lets out a rough laugh, “Yeah, for sure.”

“Is she into you or am I just seeing things?”

“Nah, I don’t know about that.”

“Oh, c’mon, no, I’m just messing with you, she just looked like… I dunno.”

“Like what?”

I shift awkwardly, “You know what, don’t mind me, I’ve had too much to drink, I thought I detected flirting, or whatever, I guess I was wrong.”

The girl kneels onto the ground and starts asking around for the bottle opener, and Evan doesn’t take his eyes away from her. “She’s pretty though, isn’t she?”

“Hm?”

“Carlie. That’s her name. She’s pretty, do you think?”

“She’s single?”

“Yep.”

“So are you trying to set me up with her or are you just pointing that out?”

“I’m not trying to set you up.” Evan seems agitated by this idea that I might try to date pretty Carlie, who, by the way, treats me like I am contagious. As though it’s any of his business what she does, as if he should even care. Something sour settles in my gut, but I can’t tell whether it’s that I'm weirded out by this conversation or if the alcohol is nauseating me.

“Right, well, she’s not my type,” I watch his face carefully, “Is she yours?”

“She’s pretty hot.”

Maybe he's looking for my approval or my agreement, which I don’t give him on purpose. To see where it leads me I respond with a benign, “Oh, you think?”

“Uh huh,” They catch eyes again and she smiles coyly and quickly looks away to resume her conversation. That’s flirtation. She’s flirting with him, and him back, right in front of my face.

“You know, a lot of people would consider your girlfriend to be pretty hot too.” It’s true, I’ve heard those rugby boys saying it before, the only time they ever had anything remotely complimentary to say about any of the emos was to point out the things they fancied about Michelle and what they might like to do to her if she A. wasn’t emo, or B. nobody knew, so that they wouldn’t have to suffer the social consequences. I feel disgusted again at this memory. I know where I was, sitting on the bench lacing up my boots and saying nothing while they spoke casual filth about a girl I know.

It’s a similar feeling to the one I have now at this bonfire with Evan, and maybe this is how he is when he’s drunk, maybe he just gets a bit… leery, but when he stares across the fire at someone who isn’t his girlfriend I swear I am looking at Willy FitzHerbert.

He waves my comment away, “Yeah but at least Carlie is interested in sex.”

“How do you know that?”

He leans closer, “Obviously because I’ve done it with her.”

“Yeah?” I say, “When?”

He smirks and says nothing.

I push him again. “A few years ago?”

He lowers his voice and looks at me with eyes that glitter with salacious excitement. I don’t think I’ve ever once seen another boy look so pleased with himself as he says: “Try a month ago.”

It takes all my self control not to react. I just pause for a second as a shock of revulsion rips through my body, I feel it from my feet to the top of my head, and then, when I decide to speak, my voice is strange to my own ears, “While you were with Michelle.”

A shrug, “It just happened on a night out when she wasn’t there. I dunno.”

“She doesn’t know?”

“Course not. She’d break up with me.”

“And... you don’t want that.”

“No, because we’re in love. This stuff with Carlie, it was just… you get what I mean. It’s not like that with her.”

I sigh, “Uh, yep.”

So it appears it is the same for Evan as it is for all the others. Michelle is the virgin, Carlie is the slut and he wants it all at the same time. A girl worthy of love, and a girl interested in sex, two things that cannot converge. There is no girl that can be both.

“It felt good to let loose with someone who knew what they were doing, and like, not have to think so hard about making the other person all safe and comfortable and, blah,” he rolls his eyes, “Carlie is cool.”

“Right, yeah, she seems it.”

“You get me, right? Guys like us, you know, we need to be able to just relax sometimes, not think so hard…”

“Yeah, for sure… Guys like us, huh?”

“Hell yeah!” He clinks his beer bottle against mine, “I knew you’d get it, honestly, I wasn’t sure if I should say something but I feel good now that you understand what I meant.”

I try to laugh but it sounds weird and strangled, so I bring the bottle to my lips in the hope that drinking will disguise my discomfort, or at the very least numb it a bit. I finish the last two thirds of it and toss it somewhere amongst the miscellaneous rubbish, remnants of a hundred other miserable bonfire nights on Dollymount strand.

Then, after a minute or two Evan nudges me again. It’s hard to look at him but I force myself to because it is what I would do if this situation was normal, “You’re not going to say anything, right? Like, to Michelle or Jen? Like I know you probably won’t...” A laugh as he adjusts his fringe, “That'd be insane, I know, but I wanted to make sure.”

“Me? Nah,” I say, “Why would you even have to ask? Don’t worry about it,” I scratch the back of my head, “your, uh, your secret is safe with me.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy 2009 #um!#ta daaa!#i wonder what he is going to do HM #tw: sex mention #tw: alcohol

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aqueeracademic · 5 months

Text

Gayest House Scenes:

Season 1:

Unfortunately, episodes 1-4 didn’t have quite the quality of gayness I was looking for. We begin at 5:

Season 1, Episode 5: “Damned if You Do”

W: Maybe I'll come to your place.

H: Your wife doesn’t mind being alone on Christmas?

W: I’m a doctor. She’s used to being alone.

H: …

W: I don’t wanna talk about it.

H: Neither do I.

Note: and then Wilson ACTUALLY FUCKING WENT TO HOUSE’S PLACE FOR CHRISTMAS. and House played the piano for him and they ate chinese food because neither of them celebrate christmas at all, actually; they just wanted to be together. They just wanted to be together during the season of love and family. I'm so sick.

Season 1, Episode 6: “The Socratic Method”

Foreman: I thought he liked rationality.

Wilson: He likes puzzles.

H: You think I’m crazy.

W: Well, yeah. But that’s not the problem.

Season 1, Episode 7: “Fidelity”

W: Oh. That’s what breasts look like.

H: You love everyone. That’s your pathology.

W: *watches House leave longingly”

Cameron: Did he just turn on the TV?

Wilson: He needs to think.

W: That’s all! I mean it.

H: You always do. It’s part of your charm.

W: I love my wife.

H: You love saying it.

Season 1, Episode 12: “Sports Medicine”

H: You thought I couldn’t handle this news?

W: …

H: You talk to her a lot?

W: No. It’s been a long time. Look, if you don’t want me to see her-

H: What is this, eighth grade? I’m fine.

W: It’s fine if you’re upset!

H: No! It’s- I have no right to be upset. You two are friends. You should see her.

Season 1, Episode 14: “Control”

W: Since when do I need the secret code to talk to you?

H: You value our friendship more than your ethical responsibilities?

W: Our friendship is an ethical responsibility.

Note: that asshole chairman figured out he couldn’t threaten House, so he threatened Wilson's job instead to keep House in line. I’m sick?

Season 1, Episode 17: “Role Model”

W: House, I believe you’re a Romantic.

Season 1, Episode 18: “Babes and Bathwater”

Note: Wilson didn’t vote House out. and the chairman was so offended he decided to fire Wilson instead. Wilson fr put his whole career on the line, knowingly, to make sure House could stay. I'm SO SICK.

W: I got sacked.

H: Did you make a pass at Cuddy? I told you, she only has thighs for me.

W: …I voted to keep you.

H: Is he gonna sack everyone who votes to keep me around?

W: Yes. Every one of us.

H: …Just you?

W: Yeah.

W: I have no kids. My marriage is all messed up. I only have two things that work for me: This job and this stupid, screwed up friendship. And neither mattered enough to you to give one lousy speech.

H: They matter. If I could do it all again…

W: You’d do the same thing.

H: Nice job protecting me! You saved my ass by sacking Wilson?

Note: House lets Wilson sit in his chair and doesn’t make him move. He makes everyone else move. He doesn’t make Wilson move.

Season 1, Episode 19: “Kids”

W: My advice is much more simple: stop being an ass. You always find some tiny little flaw to push people away.

H: Now it’s people? I thought we were talking about applicants.

W: You have a history of this.

Note: When Wilson tells house he’s “going to end up alone”, House just stares at him. i am WELL AWARE they were discussing women, but they were discussing why House always pushes women away. and then Wilson tells him he’s gonna be alone and House just stares at him???? like stares at him like he just said something both crazy and hurtful???? like he thought he would have Wilson in the end????

Season 1, Episode 20: “Love Hurts”

H: He peed on me. I’m not into that.

W: It’s apple juice! Now, go apologize.

Note: House immediately does what he’s told and finds the patient he yelled at.

W: I just want to make sure no one gets hurt.

Cameron: I’ll be fine. It’s not like I’m going out with Jack the Ripper.

W: Oh, it’s not… it’s not you I’m worried about. It’s been a long time since he opened up to someone, and I… you better be absolutely sure that you want this, because if he opens up again and gets hurt… I don’t think there’s gonna be a next time.

C: You’re worried I’m gonna break his heart?

W: …

H: This is a mistake. I don’t know how to have a casual conversation.

*Wilson rolls eyes*

Note: Why the literal hell would Wilson be at House’s place helping him get ready? Helping him with his tie? i’m sick.

Note: “What I am is what you need. I’m damaged.” HELLLLOOOOOO????????? i’m gonna eat my hands

Season 1, Episode 21: “Three Stories”

Note: “I’m not busy. But I’m not sure I want him to live.” HELLO IM GONNA JUMP OUT THE WINDOW??????????

Season 1, Episode 22: “Honeymoon”

Note: “Some part of me hopes that he’ll die. I’m just not sure if it’s because I want to be with her, or if it’s because I want her to suffer.” HELLLLOOOOOOO????????? This line just sniped me from behind.

Note: Stacey and I actually have SO MUCH beef. She better watch her back.

Note: “I thought you were too screwed up to love anyone. I was wrong. You just couldn’t love me.” As wack as I think Cameron’s relationship with House is, this line killed me.

Note: The audacity of Stacey to tell House she’s still in love with him and always will be just to tell him she won’t be with him?? Like what is actually wrong with you. Let my boy catch a BREAK.

#here it is #season 1 #all done!#they are so #gay #house #house md #gregory house #james wilson #wilson x house #house x wilson

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samgirl98 · 9 months

Text

Mending a Family 11/?

Prev | Next

Jason and Jazz bond, and Dick has a sort-of revelation.

Jason sat by the table after saying goodbye to Roy, Raven, and Lian and putting Danny to bed. After the revelation of Mar’i, the adults had sobered a little, and it had gotten awkward. Thankfully, the kids kept playing though Danny would side-eye Jason every once in a while. His knowing look reminded Jason that Danny was a sixteen-year-old trapped in the body of a five-year-old.

Jazz sat across from him with two cups of tea. She gave one to Jason and asked, “How are you feeling?”

Jason frowned; how was he feeling? A part of him was disappointed, but he understood.

“Jazz, when I came back, I killed people. I hurt Tim. It makes sense that Dick never told me he had a daughter. I’m doing the same thing now with Danny! Besides, nobody in their right mind would let a murderer around their child.”

“Just because you understand and can rationalize it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

Jason smiled softly at her, “What are you, my psychiatrist, now?”

“I don’t have to be a psychiatrist to know this affected you more than you want to let on.”

Jason sighed, “I understand; really, I do. But what pisses me off is that Roy told me that Dick is obsessively looking for me. All of them are. How can they freeze me out of the family, not at least tell me, ‘Hey Jason, you’re an uncle,’ and then call me family and use that as an excuse to hunt me down like a rabid animal?”

Jazz sipped her tea, “I think they’re probably feeling guilty now because they managed to chase you away. From what I’ve heard, they like to be in control.”

Jason snorted, “Yeah, they’re all control freaks that have no issue invading others’ privacy. Starting with Daddy Bats.”

“Do you miss them,” she asked quietly.

“I do,” he answered in the same volume, “but I burned those bridges long ago.”

They stayed in silence for a while.

“I hope I’m not overstepping, but you have become my family. I see how you act around Danny, and I am grateful that you parent and love him the way a parent loves their child. Our parents weren’t the best, so I’m glad Danny will get a second chance at childhood, and it’s all thanks to you.”

Jason smiled, “Well, at least I’m doing right by Danny.”

“You think—you think you’ll ever talk to them again?”

“Not when there’s a chance they’ll take Danny away from me. They see me as unstable, but I won’t ever hurt Danny. I don’t know if I’m a bad parent, but Danny has helped me more than I’ve helped him, and he’s keeping me sane.”

Jazz shrugged, “I’m not precisely sane myself, and as long as you don’t verbally tell Danny he’s the only reason you feel your mental stability is better, then I see no harm in it. It’s bad when a parent puts that pressure on their child. However, I have a feeling you’re saner than you think you are.”

Jazz finished her tea.

“Besides, you can’t be judged by human standards.”

Jason rolled his eyes; he stopped explaining to Danny and Jazz that he was utterly, one hundred percent human.

“Do you really think I’m a good parent?”

“Yes,” she answered without hesitation.

Jason sighed, “I miss my old family sometimes.”

“You want to talk about them?”

“I can’t talk much about the newer members, but Dick, he’s my oldest brother; he’s huggy, a huge jokester. There’s always a pun or quip coming out of his mouth. He didn’t; well, when I was younger, I thought he hated me. He was always yelling at Bruce, and most of the time, he ignored me, but eventually, he came around.”

“I remember one time he took me train surfing. It was so fun! I was hanging out with my older brother, my predecessor. He also stole Bruce’s car once and took me on a joyride after Bruce had grounded me.”

“There’s also Barbie. She helped me a lot with homework when I was younger. She’s—she’s also the only one that kept contact with me after all the shi—things I did. You remind me of her. She’s kind, same as you. And you both have red hair. She’s crazy smart like you are. The things she can do with computers,” Jason shook his head in disbelief.

“There’s Alfred. He’s like a grandfather to me. He taught me how to cook; he’s the one I miss the most, to be honest. I wouldn’t be surprised if he missed me, too, but he was giving me my space.”

Jason couldn’t bring himself to talk about Bruce. The man had been his father, but he had both disappointed Jason and been disappointed by Jason.

His biggest failure, Jason thought bitterly.

“Mom and dad,” Jazz started, took a deep breath, and continued, “Mom and dad, when they weren’t obsessed with their work, showed how much they cared for us in their way. Mom would make delicious fudge that got devoured quickly. Dad, he would call me his princess.”

“We’d go camping every summer until—until the portal opened. They had always been obsessed with ghosts, but they went into overdrive after the portal. They neglected us; Danny was being hurt. Eventually, it became too much, and Danny started detaching himself from everyone, including his friends, because he didn’t want anyone hurt.”

“I miss them sometimes, but I can never forgive them for what they did. They find out about Danny, and the first thing they do is attack! How could they?!”

Jazz was breathing hard, “How could they? They told us they loved us.”

Jazz started crying. Jason was stunned for a moment, and then he got up. He let Jazz cry on his shoulder.

Two broken people held on to each other. They may have lost an old family, but slowly, they would build a new one.

____

“Daddy!”

Dick opened his arms as his daughter flew into them. Kory floated right beside him and smiled softly at their three-year-old.

“Thanks for letting her stay with me for the week,” Dick said, “I needed this.”

“My pleasure. She wanted to see her daddy, anyway.”

Dick let Mar’i down and watched as she ran to her room.

“How’s the search going,” Kory asked.

Dick’s smile fell. They still hadn’t found any trace of Jason. Alfred was telling them to leave Jason alone and that he’ll contact them when he wants to. Roy stopped talking to Dick altogether, and Bruce was losing his mind.

“It’s not going well. Why, have you found anything?”

“No, sorry, but I haven’t been paying too much attention.”

“That’s okay. Wally and Superman are looking for him. We’ll find him, eventually.”

Mar’i decided to come out at that moment.

“Daddy, daddy, can we go see Grandpa Bruce,” she lisped, “and Uncles Timmy and Damian and aunties Cassie and Steph? Will Uncle Duke be there with the pretty lights?”

Dick felt a ping in his chest. His daughter hadn’t mentioned Jason. She had never met him, and Dick couldn’t help but feel guilty. Would Jason have stayed if the family had tried to integrate him more? Was it because of them that he left?

That bothered Dick, questions. He wanted, needed to know why Jason left instead of coming to them.

Because you shut the door, his mind supplied.

It was right.

@idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @skulld3mort-1fan @theauthorandtheartist @emergentpanda-blog @jaggedheart11 @fisticuffsatapplebees @booberrylizard @fantasticbluebirdfan @thegatorsgooseoose @cyrwrites @kjoboo91 @crystallicedart @amaramizuki666 @spekulatiusmuffin @meira-3919 @kilasmess @bubblemixer @lexdamo @wonderland-daisy @mj-arts-n-stuff @amyheart19 @dolfay @the-church-grimm @undead-essence @aph-mable @lizisipancardo @purrloin77 @writer-extraodinaire @charlietheepic7 @sinfulloccultist @nootherusernameworked @coruscateselene @chaoticchange @itsberrydreemurstuff @gmkelz11 @feral-bunny31 @paroovian @thatonegaybitch68 @d4ydr34min9 @overtherose @fandomwandererer @vipower001 @thordottir45 @blackrabbitt3t @rosecinnamonbun @bianca-hooks123 @epilepticnerd @dat1angel @consouling @flamingenchiladadragon

#mending a family #dc x dp #dp x dc

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ghouljams · 3 months

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Ghoul, I have a question.

I always see people describing the CoD guys as « knowing what they want », and a lot of readers are also described like that. Not that it is wrong, on the contrary, I like it a lot, because I’m not really confident myself (even though I try real hard to be) and it throws me into a world where I am. It allows me to dream.

But the thing is, I keep wondering if some of the guys would actually like someone like me, who is always unsure, hesitating, who takes time to decide for absolutely everything. Who’s extremely shy to the point of getting really anxious around people, and who has no idea of how relationships work. Who does everything to give and never know how to take without being embarrassed and feeling like I don’t deserve it, who sees others taking advantage of it and runs away even further from people every time it happens. I try to overcome all of this, but there’s no real progress, and I genuinely think the CoD guys would end up being frustrated with me, or bored, or both. Or that they would even be interested in me in the first place.

I’m not trying to vent or anything, but it’s just that you portray every character so well (yours too, I love them so much) that I was wondering what your thoughts would be about this ?

Anon I will answer this for you person to person and not as a writer.

I'm not going to sit here and tell you which darling would be nervous like you, which CoD boy would be patient, because at the end of it all these people do not exist and we can make them do whatever we want. I am going to tell you that anyone who loves you and wants to know you will understand and accommodate your nerves. Sex is a conversation, whether you know what you want or don't. Your partner should provide a safe space for you to try things out and decide what you do or don't like, they should be there to boost you up not shame you for your indecision.

Hesitation is natural, needing time to decide is not a bad thing. If the person you're trying to sleep with gets frustrated with you then you should not be sleeping with them. Sex is fun but it's also vulnerable, you should feel comfortable enough to voice your opinions to your partner and know that they'll talk it out with you.

In my own show of Ghoul vulnerability, I struggle a lot with feeling like I deserve the things I get. The space that I occupy feels like something I need to justify, I'm constantly afraid that I'm too much or that my desires/needs will be a bother to the people around me. I spent my whole childhood being pushed aside and told that my needs didn't matter, and that no one had time for me, and it left wounds that I will probably never heal from. But let me tell you right now: We both deserve to take up space, to be people, and to get the same things that others do. There's nothing that either of us have to do to justify our existence or our right to the things we want.

I truly suggest looking into therapy or finding a friend that you can talk about this with. Being selfish is one of the best things you can do for yourself. And if you feel like you're too scared to do it, do it scared. I don't believe that you don't know what you want, even if it's just knowing what you want to try. I do think you've forced yourself to push it aside or rationalize it away, and same, but that doesn't mean my desires aren't in me somewhere. We all know what we want, it's just a matter or articulating it.

All my love darling, I wish you the best.

#ghoul speaks #not fic #new ghoul lore I guess

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bradshawsbaby · 1 year

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Letters to My Love // Part VII

Auld Lang Syne

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: When you signed up to volunteer with the USO, you never anticipated that you would meet a man like Ensign Robert Floyd. Fate brings you together one balmy spring evening in Charleston—the night before Bob is set to ship off across the Atlantic. Pen and paper become your only means of sharing your heart with the naval aviator who’s captivated it, igniting a correspondence that spans the distance between you. Can love blossom even as war rages and thousands of miles keep you apart?

Word Count: 2.8k

Author’s Note: We’ve finally made it to 1943! Can you believe it will soon be a whole year since the night Bobby and Peach met?

Set the Mood: If you’re looking for some 1940s vibes, check out the playlist I made to pair with the story.

To ring in the new year in the story, the title of this chapter is based on the holiday classic, Auld Lang Syne. To get in the spirit, check out this 1939 instrumental version by Guy Lombardo!

Dedication: As always, this story is dedicated to my dear friend, @luminousnotmatter. Clara, thank you, thank you, thank you for your support of this story!

Warnings: Alternating POV, talk of the holidays, brief allusions to the trauma of war, references to rationing, and a ton of fluff.

January 12, 1943

Dear Peach,

Happy New Year! I know we’re only 12 days in at this point, but I hope that 1943 is already shaping up to be a good year for you. Hopefully it will be a good year for all of us. And I look forward to hearing all about your Christmas back home in Georgia!

Now to address that “elephant in the room” as you called it—well, Peach, I see no elephants, but I do see what has to be the most beautiful and elegant photograph I’ve ever had the good fortune to lay these sorry eyes on. Are you sure you really meant to send it to me and not to MGM? You could be a movie star! I wouldn’t be surprised at all if it was announced that their next big picture was starring The Sweet Peach from Georgia. Hey, maybe that could even be the name of the movie. What do you think?

Peach, I hope you know that I’m not teasing and I’m not kidding. And I hope my saying so doesn’t come across as forward, but you really are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, whether in the movies or in real life. Part of me was starting to wonder if maybe I’d dreamed it all up, that night we had together in Charleston. Could any girl really be that beautiful and kind and funny and smart, all wrapped up in one splendid person? But then I opened your last letter and your photograph fell out of the envelope, and I realized that sometimes real life can be even better than our dreams. Because you, Peach, are even more stunning than you were in my memories. And you know what makes it even better? That your beauty shines from the inside. Looking at your photograph, I can see all the kindness and gentleness and goodness that I’ve come to know so well, shining in your eyes and brightening your smile.

Gosh, am I rambling? I’m sure I am. But I don’t want you to feel embarrassed, not for a moment. And to think that you would even suggest I take a photograph this beautiful and shove it in a drawer or throw it off the carrier! That would be an absolute crime! It deserves to be framed and hung for everyone to admire. I admit that I’ve never seen the Mona Lisa, but I can already guarantee that you’re a thousand times prettier. But can I tell you the truth, Peach? As much as you deserve to be universally praised, I’ve been very selfish. The fellas are all quite jealous, you see, that the prettiest girl in the world has chosen to write to me, of all people. So I keep your photograph tucked close to my heart, away from all the guys. Don’t want to rub salt in the wound, you know?

Benny and Tommy Boy wanted me to respectfully let you know that you looked quite lovely in your photo, and that they’d be more than willing to serve as pen pals to any of your friends back home who may be in need of some correspondence.

Will you do me a favor and thank Dottie for this little scheme of hers? I knew that I liked your sister already, but this has truly solidified it for me. She’s a smart woman, that Dottie Sheridan. And I hope Frankie’s birthday pictures turned out just as nice as yours!

Can I tell you something else, Peach? We’ve been doing a lot of flying over here, me and Paul and the rest of our squadron, as I’m sure you can imagine. Paul keeps a photograph of Natasha and the kids in our aircraft when we’re flying. He says it brings him good luck and helps him remember what he’s fighting for. I like to keep a photograph of my family with me while we’re flying so that I can remember the same. But now I carry your photograph with me, too. And I think I understand now what Paul meant about his photo bringing him luck. Every time we’ve flown since I started carrying you with me, I feel this extra sense of protection. I know that sounds crazy, but it’s true. You’re my good luck charm, Peach, and I thank you for that. Thanks for helping me remember what I’m fighting for, every day that I’m here. And, hey—it’s sort of like we’re flying together already, right?

I was glad to hear that you enjoyed the pumpkin pie story, and that my utter humiliation could at least bring you some laughter. It’s funny that you should mention my mama setting aside some pumpkin pie for me because I did, in fact, receive a letter from her not long after Thanksgiving, and she told me she had done just that. She said that she’s hoping and praying I’ll be home for pumpkin pie this year. I hope she’s right.

I’m so happy to hear that you got to spend time with your folks and be together for the holidays. And happy belated birthday to little Frankie! They grow up fast, don’t they? Natasha sent Paul some photographs from Paul, Jr.’s first birthday, and neither of us can believe how big he’s gotten. Natasha says she’s writing down all his milestones in a little book for when Paul returns, so that he doesn’t miss a thing. I know it makes Paul feel good to hear that. He misses them so much.

I hope you don’t mind me doing so, but I shared with some of the guys on the carrier how you offered up your Thanksgiving gratitude and prayers for us. It lifted a lot of fellas’ spirits, I’ll tell you that. We were all missing home a little extra around the holidays, but to be reminded of why we’re doing this, and of the good people back home who are thinking of us, really makes all the difference.

Now to hear that you were an excellent pupil back in your grade school days does not surprise me one bit, Miss Peach. It’s funny that you say that you’re hopeless when it comes to arithmetic because I was always rather hopeless when it came to my writing—as I’m sure you can tell from the woeful state of my handwriting. My teachers at school—and yes, even my professors at Annapolis—always scolded me over it. Everyone has their strengths, huh? But if you don’t mind handling the writing, I’m more than happy to take care of the numbers and figures. We’d make quite a team.

Peach, I can promise you that the thought of getting to share another dance with you is one of the few things that keeps me going on the days when this war just really takes all the stuffing out of me. I just hope it’s something that YOU still want when all is said and done. I’m sure all the boys are lining up to sign your dance card.

Speaking of, have you been to any more dances at the USO lately?

You’re right when you say that Paul, Tommy Boy, Benny, and I couldn’t be any more different if we tried, but we do have a special bond and I’ll always be thankful for that. I’m glad to know you have that, too, with Dottie and Paddy and the rest of your family.

That glass of lemonade in Charleston sounds real nice right about now. It’s cold and rainy where we are, but I’ll be dreaming about that South Carolina sunshine.

My family was telling me about the coffee rations in one of their last letters. I am sorry to hear about that. I can only imagine how hard that’s hitting people, especially Paddy. I used to see him down at least three or four cups in the morning, back when I was stationed stateside. I’m sending all my best wishes that you and Dottie can survive his grumbling.

Peach, I just want to close by letting you know, once again, how much your support means to me. Truly. I hate to dwell on the negative, but there are days when this war is really hard. In fact, there are days when it feels downright impossible. But then I reread one of your letters, or take out your photograph and gaze at that pretty smile, and my hope is bolstered. You’ve given me so much, through your words alone, and I want you to know that.

I miss you, too. Who knows? Maybe 1943 will be the year we finally get that dance?

I hope so.

Very Truly Yours,

Bobby

February 3, 1943

Dear Bobby,

Happy New Year! 1943 has been treating me kindly so far, but it would be even better if it was the year that you and the rest of our boys came home. Just like your mother, that’s what I’m hoping and praying for.

My goodness, Robert Floyd, you certainly know how to make a girl feel special! I have to confess, I must have read your letter through a good two or three times when it first arrived in the mail, and I couldn’t stop blushing or beaming the whole time. Dottie said that I looked like a giddy school girl, which taught me that I really ought to read your letters in the comfort of my own room instead of in front of my nosy big sister.

Just so you know, Dottie gladly accepts your praise and thanks, and has not let me live it down for a moment. She has not failed to remind me that big sisters know best, and that I shouldn’t be so afraid to trust her, because look how well her plans always turn out? Well, knowing her my entire life, I can quite confidently say that Dottie’s plans don’t ALWAYS turn out well, but I am glad that this one did.

I’m certainly no movie star, but Dottie did work her magic on me that morning, and I’m touched beyond words at your kind reception of such a silly little thing. My cheeks still feel warm, even as I write to you now. Do you really carry my photo with you, even when you’re flying? I can hardly believe it, but I know you’re an honest man, Bobby, so it must be true. And if it brings you any sort of luck while you’re up in the air, then I’m glad for it and I’d send you a hundred more photographs if I could. I want you to come home safely, Bobby, more than anything. I need you to make it home safely so that we really can go flying together one day.

Please send my thanks and my best wishes to Benny and Tommy Boy, who are both clearly gentlemen of the highest caliber. But I’m sorry to tell them that I don’t have any girlfriends I can match them up with. Truth be told, I don’t have many girlfriends to begin with, and most of the women I do know are spoken for.

Speaking of which, do you remember my friend, Emily? She was the blonde volunteer working at the punch table with me the night we met. That was so long ago now, it’s okay if you don’t remember. Anyway, she just got engaged! She and her fiance actually met that night at the dance. His name is Eddie and he’s a corporal in the Army. He was stationed in Charleston for about a month or so after you were deployed, and he and Emily got to spending a lot of time with each other. They wrote to each other after he left, and Eddie proposed while he was back in Charleston on a short leave last month. Isn’t that something? It’s funny how things work out sometimes. I had thought Eddie was going to ask me to dance that night, but it was Emily he wanted to dance with. And look how well it turned out for them! I’m really happy for her. She’s so excited. They’re hoping that the war will be over soon and Eddie will come home permanently so that they can plan a big wedding. Emily even asked me to be one of her bridesmaids! I was Dottie’s Maid of Honor when she got married, but I’ve never been anyone else’s bridesmaid, so it’s all very exciting. A little bit of good news and hope in the midst of so much ugliness.

Christmas in Georgia was lovely, even if it was a little quieter than Christmases we’ve enjoyed in the past. I did get to see my grandparents, and some of my aunts and uncles and cousins, and that was a joy. If there’s one thing this war has taught us, it’s that spending time with the ones you love is really what matters most. My aunt actually made a pumpkin pie for dessert on Christmas Eve and I couldn’t stop giggling, thinking about your pumpkin pie fiasco as a little boy.

I hope that Paul, Jr. had a wonderful first birthday, same as Frankie! I think it’s an absolutely marvelous thing Natasha is doing, writing down all the special moments that are happening now so that Paul can relive them when he gets home. What a special gift that will be! Would you do me a favor, Bobby, and send Paul my best? I’ll never forget his kindness at the dance that night, and I really do hope he’s doing well.

Of course I don’t mind you passing along my best wishes to the rest of the men! I feel like I have so little to offer, and so little to contribute to this war, so if my thoughts and prayers can help lift even one person’s spirits, then I’m happy to hear it.

I’m also happy to hear that you’re good with numbers and figures because I simply never have been. I’d suggest that you could tutor me when you return home, but I’d be embarrassed for you to see just how truly hopeless I am when it comes to my mathematics. Instead, I’ll gladly take you up on your offer to handle all the writing if you handle all the numbers. An excellent team we’d make, indeed! And believe me when I say that your handwriting is far from the most dreadful I’ve seen. You should see my father’s and Paddy’s—completely illegible! Paddy once left me and Dottie a note letting us know he’d be home late that night, and we sat up for hours worrying because we couldn’t even read what it said! So trust me, Bobby, your writing is not as woeful as all that.

You can also trust me when I tell you that there are certainly no boys lining up to sign my dance card. I’ve volunteered at several other USO events, but truth be told, I haven’t gone to many dances since that one back in May. Emily’s always trying to get me to go with her, and I have gone to a couple, but it just doesn’t feel the same, Is that silly? I know we only got to attend one dance together, but it just doesn’t feel right, being there without you, Bobby. Every time I did force myself to go, I’d hear a song that played that night and then I’d miss you too much. The next time I go to a dance, I want you to be there, too, and I want us to be dancing together. I’ll make sure there’s plenty of lemonade for us afterwards.

I think Paddy is finally recovering from his caffeine withdrawals, thank goodness! Dottie and I have been cutting back on our coffee consumption so that he can have some more in the morning. I have a feeling more rations will be coming soon, which is why Dottie and I are already making plans to revive our Victory Garden this spring. We didn’t pay as much mind to it last year, when everything still seemed so readily available, but this year we’re determined to grow as much as we can. We’re not exactly farmgirls, my sister and I, so maybe you could send us some tips?

Bobby, if my words bolster your spirits, then I want you to know that your words do that a hundredfold for me. Receiving your letters in the mail brings me such joy. I have every single one saved, and I read them whenever I’m feeling sad or scared about the war. Have I told you lately how glad I am that we met and that we’re still exchanging letters all these many months later?

Here’s to hoping that 1943 is our year, Bobby. I hope that I’ll be seeing you real soon.

Most Affectionately Yours,

Peach

P.S. I almost can’t believe I’m asking this—and I hope you don’t think it too forward—but is there any possibility that you might have a photograph you could send? I can still see your face so clearly in my memories, Bobby, but it would be so special to have a photo to remember you by. If not, it’s okay. I just thought I would ask. Stay safe, Bobby.

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #x reader #x female reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #lewis pullman #WWII AU #1940s AU

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bekaroth-reads · 7 months

Text

Astarion x Reader/Tav x Gale pt 2

[So, just a heads up, this is kinda long and not proofread. Nothing too bad here, but there is some swearing and like one risky joke, so if that's not your thing, now you know :)]

There were plenty of things that you all needed to get done today…

And it was becoming more and more evident that little to none of it was going to happen.

Things were going well at first, but then you all found that brooch. It seemed to catch Astarion’s eye, and at the exact same time Gale’s senses for magic…well, sensed it.

The millisecond that they noticed the other eyeing the piece of jewelry, they shot forward to seize it. Astarion, being more dexterous managed to get to it before Gale did.

“Now, you wait just a moment! I saw that first!” Gale stomped his foot like a child.

“Well, I grabbed it first!” Astarion sneered and held it up like a bully taunting someone in a classroom squabble.

Gale sputtered around his words a few times, trying to get something out. But, he failed because of how angry he was. Eventually, he turned to you.

“Tav! Tell him how much I need that! You know how important magical items are to me at the moment!” He demanded pleadingly.

“Tav!” Astarion mockingly whined as he gave a dramatic pout. “Tell him he doesn’t always get what he wants.”

You huffed out in frustration. It seemed that the two of them had forgotten that the three of you were supposed to be finding a way out of the part of the dungeon you were in; an old wall had crumbled and separated you from the rest of the group as well as the way that you entered from, something that the other two seemed to have not notice from their bickering.

“How about the two of you talk to each other instead of trying to use me as a messenger.” You said as you went back to looking around the chamber for another way out, an action that at the moment consisted of you patting down the walls to try to find a hidden switch or something of the like.

“I’d rather not.” Astarion turned his nose up at the idea, both literally and metaphorically, before walking over to you.

“I must have a better look at my darling, little thing in a better light.” He purred as he grabbed your shoulders and moved you over by one of the lanterns that lit up the center of the chamber. “Stunning. Now that I’ve gotten that treat, look at this beauty I found.” He held up the little, gold framed jewel for you to admire.

“I found it. You stole it.” Gale corrected as he walked over, causing Astarion to clasp his hand around the brooch protectively.

“I need that magic. You both know why.” Gale pointed out, trying to calm himself and work through things rationally. “There’s plenty of nice pieces on the table. I’m sure that there’s something better than that little pendant.”

Astarion scoffed and squinted his eyes. “It’s been gods know how long since I have gotten something nice for myself! I found this, and I am going to keep it. Besides, some of us need magical items too. Who knows what sort of enchantment this might aid me with down the road.”

Gale, still trying to play to Astarion’s logic, reasoned, “See, that’s the catch. We don’t know what sort of enchantment is on that. Might even be a curse. Wouldn’t you rather be safe than sorry?”

“Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no! You are not going to pull that trick on me!” Astarion growled.

“Tr- trick?! What trick?!” Gale was blown away that response, more so at the accusation.

Astarion’s nose crinkled as he instinctively bared his fangs in a threat. “Telling me that I should hand this over because there might be a big, scary curse on it is practically the same thing as a parent telling their child they can’t eat a treat because it’s too hot!” Something changed in Astarion’s attitude after that outbursts, and he acted on the new idea by wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him, and snarking, “And, we all know what a penchant you have for taking what obviously is mine.”

Gale visibly bristled looking back and forth between Astarion and you. Seeing that things were about to boil over, which would keep you from finding a way out of here for even longer, you tried to smooth things over.

“This is ridiculous!” You scold as you removed yourself from Astarion’s hold and walked back to the wall that you were searching before. While you were resuming the search, you called back, “Things would be a lot easier if you both learned how to share. It’s just a stupid brooch!”

“Pendant.” Astarion insisted pointedly punctuating the P. “Brooch is sooo… costume jewelry.”

“It’s a pretty thing with a pin on the back. Pretty sure that makes it a brooch.” You dismissed the correction with a shrug as you continue your task.

“Hate to admit it, but he’s right.” Gale chimed in. “There’s more pendant than brooch to it.”

Astarion gave an indignant noise, stood from the column he was leaning on, and crossed his arms. “Don’t you dare correct them!” He snapped at the wizard.

Gale’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “I was agreeing with you!” He shouted, then growled before smoothing his hands through his hair to try to calm himself down.

“Oh, I know.” Astarion now had clear amusement in his voice, before it switched back to stern, “But, you still don’t get to talk down to them that way.”

You actually laughed at that. “See? You two can agree on something when you put your minds to it.”

“Don’t you start in on it too.” Gale huffed at getting teased from both people he was stuck with for the foreseeable future.

“Now don’t sell us short. I’m sure that even though it might not be desirable, we could certainly work well with each other when push comes to shove.”Surprisingly, Astarion defended Gale, even if not directly.

“Please!” You rolled your eyes, “If there’s one thing the two of you love more than singing your own praises, is trying to pretend that you aren’t totally enthralled with a certain other member of our little party.”

“You?” They both flirted in sync, and side eyed the other for doing so.

“Each other.” You corrected, and were met with a cacophony of groans, retching, and denials.

The room went silent after that. You figured that you had finally been able to tune out the other two’s squabbling. So, with this new found quiet you went about your search. It was so nice to have a few minutes of peace that you almost didn’t notice how long it had been since you had heard something from either of them; suspiciously long. Just as you were about to turn around and see what was going on, a familiar set of scarlet eyes caught your peripheral attention.

“Astarion.” You groaned and went to move away, but bumped into something behind you.

“Come, now. We just got over here. Don’t leave us.” Gale chuckled as you turned around to face him.

The elf surprised you by rolling you all so that Gale was pushed against the wall, pinned in by his arms on either side, leaving you smooshed in the middle of them.

“Well, you see, darling, while you were over here having a tender moment and caressing the wall, we decided to teach you a lesson in manners,” Astarion giggled mischievously from where he rested his head on your shoulder.

“Yes, indeed.” Gale hummed and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear before continuing, “Proving once and for all that the thing that, may I remind you, you thought was impossible, can, in fact be achieved by-“

“Oh gods!” Astarion exclaimed exhaustively as he reached up and turned your face toward Gale, before moving his hand to the back of your head to push it forward, “Just kiss him already!”

Neither of you needed Astarion’s coaxing really. It did finally give you both the chance to act on some pent up feelings, though Gale did seem a bit shy about it still. Not, reluctant, more so giddy and not sure how to handle that. He gained his confidence soon enough, and pushed into the kiss so enthusiastically that you were sure you would fall over if Astarion wasn’t behind you, humming contently, seemingly enjoying the show.

Eventually, you were separated. “For heaven’s sakes, man! Let the poor thing breathe.” Astarion chuckled as he savored your labored breathing and the feel of your quickening pulse. “After all, a lonely sort like you needs to take things slowly.” He ran a finger down Gale’s cheek, “I bet you’re liable to blow any minute now.”

“Astarion!” You scolded his crassness.

“I was talking about his chest, darling.” You all knew that he wasn’t.

Gale snorted a single, annoyed laugh. “Well, I can say one thing about you. It seems like you took Tav’s words to heart and learned how to share.” He was clearly smug that he had gotten the first kiss out of the two.

“Hardly,” the vampire replied, “I just needed a way to shut you up.”

You scoffed at their antics and went to wriggle out of their hold, but were quickly stopped.

“Now, now, Tav.” Astarion tutted as you were spun around to face him, “Fair is fair.”

“He’s right once more.” Gale laughed as he weaved his fingers between yours and moved you other hand to rest on Astarion’s torso. “Not really sharing if only one of us gets a turn.”

Fanged grin clearly visible even in this slightly darkened corner of the chamber, Astarion looked like he was on the hunt. “Let me show you how it’s really done.”

You weren’t sure if he was saying that to you or Gale, but there wasn’t any time to truly wonder as you were once again being kissed by traveling companion that had been harboring the want to do so for awhile. It was interesting the differences between the two kisses. Gale’s was emotional and switching from soft to needy, like sparks of a firework shooting across your nerves. Astarion’s was steady, practiced, but relentless, like the steady heat of a campfire oddly enough given his cool body temperature. Both, however, were equally earnest.

After Astarion pulled away, with a playful little scrape of his fangs of course, there was a moment of you all standing there enjoying the intimacy of it all. You leaning onto Gale, Astarion leaning onto you, and the two of them holding you by holding each other. Astarion did start to get a bit squirmy with the though of being this vulnerable, so you decided to lighten things up.

“You boys know…” you hummed as you leaned further back on Gale and wrapped your arms around Astarion’s neck to pull him towards you. They seemed to be eager to hear what a you were thinking until you actually said it. “…it’s not sharing if we don’t all get a turn.” You snickered as you slid out from between them quickly, making them tumble into each other.

Still wanting to keep up their detesting façade despite everything that just happened, they both crossed their arms and faced away from each other. “Oh, come on. You both now how you actually feel.” You goaded.

Giving a dramatic sigh, Astarion shrugged. “Well, I supposed that if I really had to-“

“Oh, to hells with it!” Gale interrupted, then grabbed both sides of Astarion’s face, crashing their lips together so suddenly it made the elf yelp; not that he really seemed to mind it once he realized what was happening.

Or, so you thought.

Once Gale had let go, Astarion gave him a look that made both his and your blood run cold.

“How dare you-“ he hissed and took a step toward Gale, the latter stepping back in response.

There were a few deep, seemingly furious breaths from Astarion before he snapped, “I was supposed to kiss you first!” He lunged for the magician and repaid him the gesture he was given, but this time on his terms.

As if he was now totally placated by dazing Gale, he turned back to you, happy as a lark and chirped, “Now, let’s see. One from me to you. One from Gale to you. But, two between Gale and myself. Now, if my maths are correct, we have a few numbers to even up.” Astarion left Gale to reconnect to the real world as he walked over to where you had moved to.

“Are you really going to keep track of the exact numbers?” You moaned annoyed as you leaned onto the stone table in the middle of the chamber.

"Apologies, my dear, but once a magistrate, always a magistrate. Number crunching clings to me like a pox." He teased.

"Not to mention your need to constantly judge people." Gale added as he came to join the two of you.

Astarion was about to quip something back, but a loud crash put all of you on guard. You all went back off guard when you saw it was the others who had found a way to clear the rubble from the door.

They helped you through the little path they had cleared and were asking if there was anything of note in there.

"So what I'm hearing is other than a few trinkets, that whole room was a waste of time." Shadowheart sighed in frustration.

"Well, not a totally loss." Astarion started as he rummaged through his pockets, "I found..."

He paused when he couldn't find what he was looking for, then glowered at Gale. "You bastard! When did your take it?"

"I don't have it! And, don't you blame me for your clumsiness! You probably dropped it while we were climbing through the rubble!" Gale snapped back, leading to the two of them bickering once again.

"What are they looking for?" Shadowheart asked.

"Oh, this." You pulled the accessory from you pocket.

"Cool looking brooch." Karlach noted as you held it up.

"Pendant!" Gale and Astarion insisted as they rushed over to take it back from you.

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #gale x reader

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