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#idk why i never thought of doing this before
s-4pphics · 9 hours
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candy crush. (e.w.)
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SYNOPSIS: you’re too sweet, and ellie hates it. 
WORD COUNT: 4.3K
WARNINGS: recordshopmanager!ellie, crumblcookiebaker!oc, hurt/comfort, ellie’s a cunt, ocs too sweet, FLUFF?? FROM ME??? HUHHH, crushing, slight suggestive thoughts
A/N: idk where this came from lol
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Ellie’s reorganizing the vinyl selection when a delicate hand lands on her shoulder. “I know your miserable ass doesn’t enjoy company,” Dina hisses in her ear, purposefully hushed, “But you got company.” 
Ellie’s eyebrow quirks with confusion, leaving the earplug that blasts Head like a Hole to dangle over her shoulder. Her eyes glaze over the semi-filled shop, narrowing in on every face until she locks eyes with you from behind the guitar displays. The eye contact only lasts about 1.5 seconds before Dina smacks her leg. 
“Don’t look. You’re gonna make it weird.” Dina quietly snaps from beside her, occupying her hands with some misplaced records. 
“You know her?” 
“I see her around sometimes. I think she works nearby,” Ellie catches her smirking from the corner of her eye, “… I think she likes you.” 
“Fuck off.” 
“I’m dead serious. She’s been staring for the past 10.” 
“At who.” 
“At you, dipshit.” 
Ellie can’t help herself. She takes one experimental glance in your direction; discovers you typing away at your device with a black mask pulled down under your chin, bottom lip trapped between your teeth with worry. Your apron and tiny name tag indicates you probably work somewhere close by, but she can’t pinpoint where. You’re too far and her vision is failing.
“Get her numbe—“
Ellie’s head whips to face Dina, “If you don’t shut up, you’re fired.” 
“Abuse of power,” She snarks in return, “C’mon! She seems so—“
“D-Do you guys have any acoustics for sale?” 
You’re a ninja, for sure. Both girls' heads snap around to face you — who stands a bit too close for Ellie’s liking — phone desperately clutched to your chest and eyes wide as a doe. Mainly locked with Ellie’s before they drop to your name tag.
Crumbl. 2 shops down. 
Fuck. 
“Why, yes!” Dina says excitedly when Ellie doesn’t reply, “Most of ours have been used, but they’re still in great condition. Are you interested in renting or purchasing?” 
“Purchasing… I think.” 
“No problem. I can show you some that we have on display, and if you don’t like those, we have some stocked in the back!” 
Ellie’s forehead creases. Dina has never been this active in making a sale, let alone interacting with any customers. Ellie is always the one who’s forced to pick up her and Riley’s slack in the shop. She catches the light traces of disappointment that overtakes your expression at Dina’s interjection, but eventually, you’re led over to the guitar displays.
Ellie sighs in relief. 
That brief exchange gave Ellie everything she needed to know. She doesn’t find gratification in denying proposals at work, but after months of being hit on by a multitude of customers — the men particularly piss her off— she’ll be as stern as she needs to be to get the point of denial across. Sure, it makes her look like a cunt to the general public, but she’ll take that over being chased after on the clock. No questions asked. 
Ellie assumes that you’ve found what you needed because on your way out, persistent stares are thrown in Ellie’s direction up until your departure. She dodges them with mastery. 
She would hate to have to embarrass a strip neighbor. 
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Three days later, you stumble upon the record shop once more. Dina isn’t here to save Ellie this time, and Riley’s passing time in the break room. Your uniform is lightly dusted with white, presumably flour, and your mask is down, phone clutched to your chest like it holds all your secrets.
Your mouth drops open around a small smile when you approach the service counter, but Ellie interrupts before you can greet her. 
“What can I help you with?” 
She assumed her annoyance would be guarded by professionalism, but your smile drops at its corners at her tone. A light flinch that Ellie prays is enough to deter you from spending your breaks here. 
It doesn’t. Your eyes still shine like the star that you aren’t. 
“I, um… I actually wanted to talk to you. If that’s okay—“
“Is it regarding the purchase you made a few days ago?” 
Dina slid Ellie a notice on the down payment you made for your used dreadnought since you weren’t able to pay in full. The scolding she received about “taking care of you” whenever you returned made her teeth grind together. 
“N-No. I just—“
“I’d appreciate it if we kept the conversation about that,” Ellie uses the scribbles on her notepad as a distraction, “Did you have any questions regarding the instrument? Or if you’re interested in taking part in the lessons we offer, I could redirect you to Riley. She’s in charge of—“
“I just wanted to see if you were… interested in sampling out some cookie flavors I came up with? I’m a baking and pastry student and—“
“Look,” The tip of Ellie’s tongue sharpens into her cheek, irritation evident when you two are eye-to-eye. “I’m not sure where this proposal is coming from, but frankly, I’m not interested.”
The drop in your expression doesn’t stop Ellie’s relentlessness. 
“I don’t know you, and I don’t know why you thought I’d be a good candidate for… taste-testing, but I’ll politely decline. No thanks.” 
Her declination doesn’t sound polite in the slightest; quite snippy and condescending from your perspective, and it forces your windpipe shut. Only for a second before a strangled gasp leaves your lips. You’re not sure if it’s out of shock or lack of breath, but it aches in your lungs all the same. 
Ellie’s glare sends holes through your back as you rush towards the exit, the small bell singing through the store and alarming your leave. 
All Ellie can hope is that you got the message. 
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It’s a new week, and therefore, a new Crumbl cookie line-up. Dina won’t stop raving about the carrot-cake cookie which doesn’t resemble a cookie at all. It's tiered and way too soft and stacked with icing that’s sweet enough to rot teeth from the gum. 
It reminds Ellie of you, for some reason; Somehow still managing to be a nuisance without trying. 
Even more so now since Dina’s been using her 45 to walk down and see you. To talk to you. Dina has yet to cough up what about — not that Ellie cares. It’s just weird that you two suddenly have so much in common after knowing each other for all of two days maximum. Whenever Dina clocks back in, she tortures Ellie with dramatic retellings of your stories. 
It’s Thursday; a quiet day for the shop that Ellie uses to her advantage when the sun is at its peak. Searching through cheap magazines and playing Candy Crush on her phone. 
What a time for you to come barreling in. The formerly enjoyable shriek of guitar suddenly sounds like nails on a chalkboard at your appearance. No longer are you in all black. You’re in a sundress. An orange one. You look like a popsicle. 
And you bear gifts. Ellie’s mood turns even more sour when she sees two bright yellow gift bags with smiley faces on them and a tray filled with coffee stuffed in your hands. 
“Good morning!” 
You’re smiling, gleaming, and Ellie’s nose turns up. She plucks one of her earplugs out and closes her graphic novel. 
“How can I help you?” 
You set your bag down on the display case of her prized arch top, and she sighs in exasperation. Annoyance sparks when she notices one of the bags has her name on it, flowers and hearts and sparkles surrounding the tag. 
“Can you not put your belongings on the displays, please? I’d have to clean up after you since none of my employees will.” 
You’ve already moved your bags and exclaimed apologies before Ellie could finish her sentence. She’s seconds away from shoving her earplug back in to tune you out, but you’re fast. Persistent. She hates it.
“I’m really sorry about that,” You say gently, and Ellie shrugs you off, “I, um. I-I came to, uh…”
Ellie blinks rapidly, “If you’re here to apologize for last week, don’t bother. It’s not needed.” 
“Not at all! Well, I’m just… I wanted to drop by and—“
“You’ve gotten quite comfortable with just… dropping by. Have you realized that?” 
Ellie’s squint is harsh and scrutinizing, and sorrow overshadows the light in your pupils. 
“Since it’s obvious that you’re not understanding me, I’ll put it like this,” She leans a bit over the counter, front fully pressed against the glass and palms resting on the stainless steel, “I’m not interested in anything you have going on. Stop using your breaks as an excuse to come see me. I don’t wanna go out with you. And I don’t want to do a taste test. Drop it already.” 
Ellie watches your lip quiver with a harshness exclusive only for people like you, tears welting in your eyes and your fingers pinching at the hem of your sundress. Insecurity is practically seeping from your pores, and your gaze drops shamefully to the floor. 
Ellie’s just about to tell you to kick rocks when the STAFF ONLY door swings open and exposes Riley. Her break ended 20 minutes ago. 
“Hey! You’re early!” 
Ellie scoffs, “No, you’re late—“
“Not you. Be quiet,” She waves her off and smiles at you, who’s smiling back at her with guised genuity. A complete 180 from the you seconds ago. Since when were you and Riley on speaking terms? Friends?
She jogs from behind the stand, “Dina told me you weren’t coming til 3!” Riley throws her arms around your shoulders, and your hands tremble where they rest on her forearms. “Are those the goods?” 
“Yeah!” Your voice sounds heavy. Like you’re guarding a breakdown, “I-I had some time so I stopped by a little early.” 
“I got some to spare til Dee gets here. Hang out with m—“
“Actually!” You intervene shakily, “I have some other drop-offs to make. I really appreciate you guys doing this for me.” 
“Are you sure you can’t stay? Watch me get my Food Network judge on?” Riley suddenly points in Ellie’s direction, “Who knows. Sourpuss might even pop a grin once she tries one.” Ellie’s cheeks run red-hot.
“Sorry, Riley. Maybe next time,” You’re already wobbling towards the exit, “But, please call and tell me what you think! Dina, too! Any feedback is appreciated!” 
“I’m sure they’re delicious, Monster!” Riley compliments playfully, “Text me when you’re home!” 
When the door shuts, Ellie sees Riley’s back stiffen at the sight of you frantically wiping your face through the glass. 
“What the fuck did you do.” 
“I didn’t do shit. She’s loitering.” 
“Lo— Oh my fucking god, you’re an embarrassmen—“
“No, she is. Taking up space for no fucking reason to come and see me. She’s loitering—“
“You’re blowing a fuse over fucking cookie samples?” Riley stares at her like she’s nuts, “And not to burst your self-centered bubble, but I told her to come. She’s been asking all the stores on the block if they’d like to taste ‘em.”
Ellie pauses, expression softening only slightly when Riley continues, 
“I told her you don’t like chocolate, so she made a peanut butter version for you.” Riley shakes Ellie's special, slightly smaller bag as a means to taunt her, and the freckled girl’s face burns red. Glows even harsher when her friend throws in, “You cunt. She’s a sweetheart. Not everyone is fucking obsessed with you.” 
Riley leaves Ellie to simmer in her discomfort, slamming the break door shut. The day seems to drag on longer than usual. 
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Ellie’s organizing the break room when she comes across her small baggie that Riley left behind. She would’ve expected her friend to take them home after Ellie’s dramatic blow up, but there it sat on the counter, untouched and jeering. 
Tempting enough for her to rest the broom against the counter and inspect its contents. Wafts of cinnamon and peanut butter hit her through the small opening of the bag, and her heart gives a squeeze. The cookie is iced to perfection — an entire scenery on the light brown canvas. So many flowers and trees and the blue hues of the sky; almost too much detail. It looks printed on. 
You’re artistically talented and the cookie smells divine. 
One nibble wouldn’t hurt. She’s sure the damage she caused is already irreversible. 
But when she cradles the carefully swaddled cookie, a small note falls from beneath the bunched cling wrap. She knows she shouldn’t. She should really, really leave the neatly folded piece of paper where it lays. Down the cookie. Trash the bag. 
She takes the cookie and the note back to her seat at the table. The cookie isn’t what she unravels first. 
“thought I’d make you a separate batch. Riley gave me the heads up about your chocolate disdain. I’m too paranoid to ask for your number in person, so I thought I’d use bait instead. I hope it’s convincing enough. Please let me know if it’s decent. Thank you for tasting.”
Signed with your name and a smiling heart with wings. Ellie’s heart shatters, remaining shards dangling from the rim of her ribcage. She can already see her friends glaring through her chest when they visit the apartment to berate her tomorrow morning. She already knows what they’re going to demand from her, but she’s three steps ahead. 
She ate the entire cookie in two bites right where she sat. It was delicious. Almondy, not too sweet, gently spiced. Probably the best she’s ever had.
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Ellie has never been to Crumbl before. 
The viral spot is always bustling — too crowded and filled with loud teenagers with a sugar rush for her taste. Plus, she’s already on the clock when they first open. But the record shop is closed on Fridays. 
She put an extra bit of care into her appearance. She doesn’t recall the last time she did her hair. Half of it is pinned up and her button-up is neatly pressed. Jitters rustle in the pit of her stomach and her forehead is a bit damp, mainly because she can see you through the goddamn window. 
In uniform, you stand at the register with the same beaming smile from last week, talking and giggling with your coworkers, and Ellie instantly feels guilty. Your day seems off to a great start, and here she is… About to ruin it. She almost turned around at the thought. 
But the small bell above the door blares loud, and your bright smile drops once you recognize her, and with that, her stomach. Ellie mentally notes the bags forming under your eyes and the tension in your shoulders. It looks like you haven’t rested for days. Her heart squeezes. 
Your movements turn robotic; stiffly perched on the sides of the iPad stand as your thumb works on the screen. You haven’t looked Ellie’s way since. She approaches the counter with her tail between her legs, fidgeting with her middle finger. 
“Um… hey.” Ellie’s quiet. Out of place. Afraid. 
“What can I get for you?” 
Even with the stiffness, you somehow still manage to sound as soft as a cotton ball, but Ellie’s body locks. The scenario hits her like a brick wall; she’s doing exactly what she accused you of doing to her last week. Bothering her at fucking work. She should’ve never come to your place of business to coddle her ego. She feels like a hypocrite. You certainly see her as one. 
“Um… A cookie?”
“… What flavor.” 
“Uh… peanut butter?” 
You swallow thickly, voice hollow, “That’s not on the menu for this week,” You point towards the display of cookies that were big enough to feed a family, “These are the six we’re serving until Sunday. You can also look at the menu on the screen.” 
Ellie follows your pointing finger. How the fuck does this place work? Weekly flavors? What the fuck does that mean? She quickly examines the names of cookies that flash across the screen: raspberry cheesecake, pink velvet… Mom’s recipe? Odd name for a dessert but she lets it slide. 
“W-What’s your favorite?” 
You’re a baker, for fucks sake. You’d have better taste than anyone, better than her, she’d painfully admit. 
She watches your fingers clench around the screen, tapping mindlessly. 
“Um… raspberry cheesecake.” 
“I’ll get a dozen.” 
“O-Of the same flavor?” 
She shrugs like it’s obvious, “… Yup.” 
You give her one skeptic look before tapping at the screen. “It might be a little wait. About 15 minutes. Do you mind?” 
“No.” 
“Cash or card?” 
“Card, please.” 
More tapping, “That’ll be $41.65. Swipe or tap whenever you're ready.” 
A financial dent over a box of cookies was not on her bucket list. You hand her the receipt, and before you can rush to the kitchen, Ellie exclaims, “When’s your break?” 
“Excuse me?” 
“W— um, when’s your break?” 
Your coworkers are suddenly very interested in Ellie, all four of them eyeing her like venomous hawks. Her cheeks burst into flames. 
“Um… I don’t think that’s any of your concern.” 
And you’re right. Anything involving you is short on Ellie; it was never her business, but a burning in the pit of her stomach desires to learn. Needs to catch you at the right time to give you a proper apology even though she doesn’t deserve the time of day. She doesn’t know what to say. 
You use her floundering as a scapegoat and hustle behind the slamming doors. Just as Ellie rushes to leave empty-handed, one of your employees — Abigail reads across her name-tag, keeps professional, but Ellie’s skin burns with the fire in her eyes. 
“We’ll have those right out for you,” monotone, but gruff. It makes Ellie wonder if you told any of them about her — she doesn’t doubt it. 
“You can wait outside.” 
One stiff nod, and Ellie’s booking it until her feet plant on the packed sidewalk, nearly bumping into a couple with interlocked hands. It takes 25 minutes for the box of cookies to be rigidly placed on the lounge table by another employee. Ellie scurries into her truck with a boiling face and pulls out into the road. 
When she makes it to her apartment, she eats three mini cheesecakes in one sitting.
She sees why they’re your favorite. 
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The following week was filled with glares and curses from Dina and Riley — your newfound friends, evidently. They have a way of making Ellie feel like a worthless dunce. They both have rubbed in the tales of you being a thrill to be around; the life of the party whenever they hang out. 
It makes her nauseous. And sad. 
But her sadness swiftly shifts to bewilderment when she catches you smoking near a lamppost after closing. Still in your uniform with a bag over your shoulder, pants dusted in white, proof of your labor. It’s dark out, the only illumination coming from the light stood tall above you and the orange gleam of your cigarette. The sight shocks her. You didn’t seem like the type. 
Maybe that’s where Ellie went wrong with you: constantly assuming… who you are. Your desires, your intentions with her, her friends. She’ll admit her wrongs, of course. 
But it has to be to you. 
Ellie scares you when she approaches, inhaling the nicotine a bit too roughly because you start heaving. Shoulders hunched and jumping with every cough. 
“Uh — fuck, I’m sorry! I-I thought you could see me coming! I didn’t mean — fuck —“
You’re still choking, but you hiss in between, “What the fuck do you want!” 
“I’m just — I’m sorry about —“
“You’re not — cough — you’re not sorry! You made your point clear. I don’t why you keep — cough cough — following me. I left you alone like you wanted!” 
“I DON’T WANT THAT!” Ellie shrieks in panic. 
It’s a heavy-handed admission. A weighted confession that was said too aggressively given your flinching away from her. She takes an instinctive step forward. 
“Your cookies… tasted fucking incredible. I’m also an asshole.” 
The drag you take from your cig while she rambles is almost comedic. Brows cinched at the middle of your forehead, gauging her. You’re not convinced, but you’re not fleeing like the first time. She takes a leap, and a large step towards you. 
“I feel really… really bad,” Ellie’s much quieter, eyes unwavering and the softest she’s ever shown you, “I shouldn’t have… said all that. To you. I’m just so used to being harassed at work. I’m sorry.” 
Maybe nicotine calms you. Your body language isn’t as taut compared to when Ellie first initiated conversation, and your eyes soften at her reasoning. 
The rasp from your timbre melts her skin like butter. “I didn’t know you went through that. That sucks.”
Ellie shrugs, “I didn’t know you were… nice.” 
She made the mistake of attempting playfulness, “Maybe ‘cuz you wouldn’t let me talk.” You snark while ashing. 
“I’m sorry.” Ellie implores. 
You take one last drag before stomping out the flame. “Me too. For bothering you.” 
Ellie cringes at your choice of words, but nods in acceptance. “Are we, uh… okay, now?”
A small smile grows on your face. It’s cute. Makes your cheeks puff out like a hungry squirrel. 
“We’re good.” You extend a fist out to her, and she connects her own at the knuckles. 
When they drop, Ellie nervously stares at her shoes, “Do you want a ride home?” 
“I’m alright, thanks.” 
“C’mon, I don’t want you waiting out here by yourself.”
You pause before asking, “What’s the catch?” Your brow arches mischievously.
Ellie doesn’t hesitate, “More of those cookies.” 
A giggle escapes you. Soft and airy like a feather. Ellie feels a tight clench in her chest. A thumping from her ribcage. Has your smile always been this vibrant? She mentally kicks herself for not noticing before. 
Ellie escorts you to the passenger's side of her passed down pick-up: opens the door for you and makes sure you’re buckled in before starting it up. She learns you’re a metalhead when she cranks the radio to the highest volume. 
… How quickly can crushes develop? 
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Two months. Ellie’s spent two months finding every excuse to spend time with you. She welcomes your visits to the record shop and silently thanks the heavens above when you call after her shift to talk about your day. Listening to your rambles about customers and their weekly cookies has become the highlight of hers. 
She’s also found comfort in watching you fail at playing guitar. You’re adorable whenever you strike an incorrect chord or break a string. She’s more than willing to guide you through your trials: late-night invites to her apartment to practice. One of your goals was to learn how to play the entire Vanara soundtrack. 
Ellie assumed she simply enjoyed being in your space. She does, but something shifted between you during one specific session. It was past midnight, and Ellie could tell you were getting tired. She innocently suggested for you to spend the night so you wouldn’t have to Uber at such a late hour, and you graciously accepted her offer. When you started to get comfortable on the couch, she tuts in disapproval and invited you to share her bed because it was more comfortable. 
What a mistake. 
After showering and changing into comfortable clothes, you both crawled into bed and swiftly drifted off. When Ellie’s eyes opened the following morning, her heart immediately traveled up to sit in her throat. If anyone told her she’d wake up with you completely sprawled out on top of her with your warm breath hitting her neck and her arms wrapped around you, she wouldn’t have believed them. She was completely frozen beneath you, but not for the reason she’d assumed. 
Ellie was scared to wake you up. Ellie was scared you would move away from her. 
She was pulled between waking you up and pulling you even closer. You were soft and warm and you smelled like her cinnamon body wash. A literal human cookie. She caressed your back as delicately as she could, and you nuzzled into her shoulder with every swipe. She hoped the harsh thrashes from her heart wouldn’t disturb you. 
They didn’t. 
You took a piece of Ellie when you left her apartment that morning. She’s not sure which part you stole, but she hasn’t felt the same since then. A pull towards you that’s electric, sparks her to life, keeps her up at night. Whenever you’re away, at work, not next to her, she’s desperate to pull you close. To breathe in the natural scent of you. 
Evidently, crushes develop rather quickly. 
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“I thought baking was supposed to be fun.” Ellie huffs from where she lays on her bed. 
“It is fun! My favorite past-time, actually,” She watches you pace around her bedroom, guitar still strapped securely around your shoulder, “It’s just stressful when you have chefs constantly breathing down your neck. It’s so hard to be creative because they nitpick everything.” 
Creating a menu is much harder than Ellie assumed. She’s become the person you’ve come to whenever you’re fired up from classes, ranting and raving about the apparent dickheads that judge your creations. After testing your recipes for as long as she has, how could anyone turn down a dessert from you? 
You’re such a hard-worker. Focused, determined… pretty when you’re brainstorming. Pretty when you’re thinking… Pretty when you’re smiling. Standing. Staring off into the distance. 
“Hm.” 
It’s all Ellie can say. She’s been trying to mask her rampant stares at your bare thighs for the past… however the fuck long. They look so soft. So pliable. So easy to stretch and pry and yank at— 
Her guilty pleasure went from collecting Pokémon cards to gawking at your legs whenever you wear shorts. 
Ellie’s definitely crushing. 
Crushing very, very hard. 
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idkwhatever580 · 3 days
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I would die happy
Pairings: teen!Natasha Romanoff x teen!reader
Song Inspiration: very loosely based off of the songs Casual by Chappell Roan and Ashley by Zolita (They’re good to listen to before hand but not necessary. I’ll link them)
Prompt: what happens when “good girl” y/n breaks it off with “bad girl” Natasha and Natasha realizes she needs y/n more than she thought?
Warnings:mentions of sex, angst then fluff, mentions of death? (From the song).
Pronouns: unspecified (one use of ma’am but in a silly way)
A/N: No this is not an actual songfic. I just took inspiration from the songs so there might be a line or five in the mix. I have had these songs stuck in my head the past few days and I kept imagining like a teen romance coming out of it? Idk. Hopefully I write this better than the last one 😭
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Y/n’s pov
I am in my room doing my homework when I hear tapping on my window. I look up from my neat desk to see Natasha.
My instinct is to smile and open the window up but I freeze.
Natasha Romanoff.
Bad girl. She vandalizes things. She doesn’t participate. And she dresses like a fuck boy.
Some call her a player. Some call her a cheater.
Whatever they think there’s one thing everyone can agree on. Natasha romanoff does not do relationships.
She’s usually the one night stand type of girl but then she met me. And that’s when everyone says she went soft. She never fucked another girl other than me.
But that’s all. For half a year. All she’s ever done is sex, aftercare, leave, repeat.
Another set of tapping falls upon my ears and I zone back in. I open the window and whisper
“What are you doing here?”
Natasha crawls in and says
“Wanted to see you. You alright there? You zoned out for a sec”
I nodded my head and my eyes fall upon her necklace. It’s silver with a little arrow.
I hate myself when I think of it. I nod my head and say
“Yeah. Totally fine. Just doing some homework”
I sit back down at my desk even though I know why Natasha is here.
After a whole 6 months of this it’s hard to not know what her routine is. But I don’t want it anymore.
Obviously I caught feelings. Who wouldn’t catch feelings for her? I just thought that I would get over it. I thought that having some of her is better than none of her at all right?
Wrong.
I cry so much now. All I want is for her to love me back. But that’s not reality. She doesn’t do love. She doesn’t do relationships. And I can’t do it anymore.
Natasha walks up behind me and rubs her hands down my arms and starts kissing my neck. My body lets her do it but then I think about it and take her hands off me.
“Not tonight. I have to study”
She doesn’t let up. Because usually I like playing hard to get. So she doesn’t know. And that’s okay. It’s my fault she doesn’t know.
“I can help you relax baby”
I roll my eyes at the pet name and say
“Natasha. Can we talk?”
She stands up straighter at my use of her full name and says
“Yeah. Sure”
I can tell she is a bit surprised at me but she nods her head nevertheless.
She sits down at the foot of my bed and I roll my chair over to her.
I sigh and look at the ground.
“I don’t know how to say this, but I can’t do this anymore Natasha”
She furrows her eyebrows and says
“You can’t do what?”
“This Natasha,”
I point at her and myself
“I hate myself for letting this drag on so long because I know you. I know you don’t want a relationship. But I lo- I like you Natasha. And I want you. All to myself. I want labels and I want to go to the pier together and eat popsicles and I want you to tell your friends and I want a future with you.”
I can tell I’m overwhelming her with this information but I keep going
“But you don’t want that. And that’s okay! I understand that some things aren’t meant to last. But I can’t keep hurting myself for some fun okay? I need to heal and move on. And you can go find another toy to play with and that’s okay. I just can’t be the one you go to anymore. It’s not what I want. And our ideals clearly do not align. I thought maybe I could do it and be able to handle all of this but I can’t.”
I tear up a bit
“I can’t be casual with you. I want feelings attached and I want you to myself but you don’t want me like that. So I need to cut it off.”
I finally finish my rant and I look down feeling embarrassed.
“I’m sorry”
I apologize and she shakes her head
“Don’t apologize. I get it.”
We sit there for a minute of awkward silence and she sighs and says
“I guess I should go then”
I nod my head and sniffle a bit. She lingers like she has something to say but she ultimately leaves and on her way out of my window she says
“I’ll see you at school I guess”
I nod my head.
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It’s been a week since I cut it off with Natasha and I look rough. My friends are worried about me but I tell them I’m fine.
Even some of my teachers have asked if I’m okay. Of course I lie to them. But it’s nice to know someone cares.
I have avoided Natasha at all costs. But I still find myself thinking about her.
Her arrow necklace. God I hate myself when I think of it. Because then I think of her. And then I start crying. Or I just shut down.
Yes. I may or may not have almost said I love you the night I cut it off with her. But I didn’t want her to have to hold all of my baggage. It’s not fair. She doesn’t like me like that. And she doesn’t deserve to feel guilty for what I feel.
My friend Emerald walks up to me during a free period and she says
“Hey did you see Natasha today?”
I shake my head and say
“I don’t want to talk about her.”
She shakes her head and says
“Well you’re gonna have to listen. She is the talk of the school right now so either you hear it from me or someone else.”
I roll my eyes and say
“What Em? Does she have a new toy hanging on her shoulder?”
Clearly I’m a little ticked off about having to hear about her.
But em shakes her head and I look at her and wait for her to continue
“She’s wearing your hoodie”
I look at her and say
“My hoodie? She doesn’t have any of my clothes, except for that bra that I’ll probably never get back”
She takes out her phone and shows me my favorite hoodie. It’s the pink one that I got from the thrift store. They all knew it was mine because it has em’s name on the sleeve. And a duck on the front.
I remember now. I forgot it at her house one time after she fucked me in her beach house. That was the day everyone found out and started talking about how I’m just a girl she fucked on her couch.
I cried so much that I forgot about it. And of course she just came over to make me forget about all the things people said.
I look at her and say
“Why would she ever wear that?”
She wiggles her eyebrows at me and says
“She obviously likes you y/n”
I roll my eyes and say
“She doesn’t like me Em. From the beginning everyone has known she doesn’t do crushes.”
Em shrugs her shoulders and says
“People can change.”
I roll my eyes and get a little frustrated and say
“Leave it Em. I don’t want to talk about it.”
She puts her hands up in surrender and leaves it at that.
The rest of the day goes by slowly. But I catch a glimpse of Natasha at the end of the day. She is wearing my hoodie. She looks good in it. But she shouldn’t be wearing that. I’m not hers. And she’s not mine.
I quickly leave so she doesn’t see me. Even though we definitely made eye contact. But it’s whatever.
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It’s about 8 pm now and I’m studying again. This final is about to make or break me so I can’t let myself loosen the reigns even though it’s only a midterm.
I have my headphones on and I’m listening to classical because it apparently helps people study. I’m honestly doing anything to help me.
A hand taps my shoulder and I jump up quickly but thankfully I don’t yell.
I turn around quickly and see Natasha standing there.
I immediately get frustrated and say
“What are you doing here?”
I take a second to actually look at her and she looks like shit. Honestly she is looking at me like a lost puppy. Like she hasn’t been in my room for six months. Her hair is a mess, shes still in my hoodie, and the bags under her eyes indicate that she hasn’t been sleeping well. I almost feel bad for her. Then I remember I can’t let my feelings get in the way. She says
“I um… I wanted to talk to you”
I sigh and say
“Well what is it? I’m listening?”
I feel bad for being so short with her but I can’t do it any other way or else I’ll break down.
She kind of stands there for a second and I sit down on my bed and pat it. I might as well be nice to her. She’s not a horrible person anyways.
She shakes her head slightly and keeps standing. I look at her and say
“You wanted to talk?”
She nods her head and says
“I don’t know how to say this but… I- I need you y/n”
I have never seen Natasha cry once. But she immediately breaks down in front of me
“I can’t do this without you. I need you so bad I just want all of you. I thought that if I convinced myself that it was for the better, that if I said I wanted this it would come true. But it’s not true I- I love you and I know you are probably over me by now and that’s okay I just need to tell you that I want you and only you. I know I’ve never done anything like this but I want to I want to change. I want to be good. For you. I want to take you on dates and tell everyone about you. And I don’t think I can do this without you because life is like a bad dream without you and I didn’t even realize what I had until I lost it!”
She starts crying. I start tearing up at her confession and I say
“Stop it. Stop it Natasha.”
It’s short and snippy because I’m about to cry.
“You can’t just say those things and pull at my heart just to get into my pants okay? I’m sorry that nobody wanted to get with you but I cannot just go crawling back to you if you just lie to me to get me back”
She looks at me and she shakes her head aggressively and says
“No. No I don’t. I don’t want to get into your pants I actually love you. I didn’t even know it because I’ve never felt love before y/n. Please you have to understand me I love you. I love you so much and I want a future with you. I was just scared but I’m not scared anymore I want you!”
She drops to her knees and tries to calm down a bit and says
“I understand if you don’t want me but I want you. I want to be your girlfriend. I want to introduce you to my friends and family. And- and I know my past doesn’t help anything. My reputation is probably your biggest fear but I can’t imagine my life without it. I’ve never been the sappy type but I’m telling the truth. If loving you kills me then I will die happy y/n”
I look at her from my bed and I see the genuine look in her eyes. I tear up again and the I get down from my bed and she looks down. It’s like she’s worshipping me. Like if she doesn’t she might lose me.
I envelope her in a hug and she starts crying into me. And I say
“Tell me that you love me and you won’t leave me.”
She looks at me with tears running down her face and her nose is sniffly and she says with such confdence
“I love you y/n. Nothing can change that. I won’t ever leave you. Not even if I could. I want to be yours”
I smile at her as she waits for me to answer and I grab her head and lean into her. I kiss her.
This kiss is different than any other kiss I’ve ever shared with her. It’s soft and tender. And full of love. I don’t even care that her tears and boogers are getting on me.
I don’t care. I just love her. I pull away and giggle and she kind of sits in criss cross. And I say
“Natasha. I love you too. I’ve loved you for a while now. I was just scared to say it.”
She sends me a dopey smile. I’ve never seen her smile at me like that. I like it. So I boop her nose and say
“Cute.”
She scrunches up her nose and says
“I’m everything but cute right now.”
I shake my head and say
“You’re always cute.”
I kiss her again after she wipes her face off and it’s sweet. I pull her into my lap and she says
“I don’t like this.”
Normally I guess she would be more comfortable with me on her lap. But I don’t care.
“I guess you’re just gonna have to suck it up.”
We sit on my floor for a bit and I say
“Oh shit! It’s late.”
I check the time and say
“It’s nine o’clock already! You have to get home baby”
She stops at the nickname and says
“Wait. So… are we?”
I giggle and say
“After all of that? There’s no way we’re not dating. So yes. I’m gonna call you baby. But you need to go home and I need sleep”
She smiles and says
“Can I have a hug before I go?”
I nod my head and pull her in for a long hug.
I kiss her head and then her nose and then her lips and say
“I love you. Now go. I’ll pick you up for school tomorrow?”
She usually walks to school and I drive but I want to pick her up now. She nods her head and I stop her before she leaves my window and I say
“And I want my hoodie back.”
She laughs softly and says
“No way. It’s mine now.”
Then I pull her back in to me and distract her with a kiss. I say
“Well then. I guess this is mine now”
I swiftly pull the hoodie she has on right now off of her and she pouts and says
“Aw man. That’s a good hoodie.”
I smile and say
“Only the best for me right?”
She smiles finally and nods her head and I say
“Text me when you get home okay?”
She nods her head and says
“Yes ma’am”
I giggle and shake my head. I watch as she walks off into the night and I hop onto my bed and cuddle my stuffed animal with a bright smile on my face.
All of that heartache must have been worth it.
She was right. If loving her kills me, then I would die happy.
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A/N: I actually kind of like how this one turned out. I know I pulled from the songs a lot but at least it was built into the words and not like a normal songfic lol. Because I’ve heard that many people do not like songfics :)
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amyispxnk · 14 hours
Text
Grease and sweat
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Summary - Another day, another venture out of the walls of the Boston QZ with Joel Miller. AKA, another day spent fantasizing about the burly man whom you spend most of your time with these days. When the two of you have to hole up for the night, things get a little heated, and you finally snap.
A/N: i started this oneshot like 6 months ago and finally found some random motivation today to finish it. and im not gonna spoil anything but like.. why has noone talked about this in a fic before? im literally salivating when he does this during the game and like.. yeah. idk. you’ll see.
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Word count: 3.5k
Warnings: SMUT!! (oral f!receiving, unprotected PiV sex - don’t do this, especially during an apocalypse!, mentions of masturbation, lewd thoughts), language, age gap (roughly 15 years), firearms, pet names, fluff, aftercare
DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.
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“The fuck’re you lookin’ at, kid?” Joel practically spat, having noticed the way you were eyeing him whilst he worked.
You scoffed, walking up to the workbench he was currently using. Kid. You weren’t a kid. Sure, you were almost 15 years younger than him, but you certainly weren’t a kid.
“I’m 34, Joel. Not a kid.” You argued, leaning on the wall and watching him work.
He just grunted in response before resuming what he was doing before, starting with cleaning his pistol.
His fingers danced along the metal, digging into certain bits with the old rag he used to get any grime out, before he used the screwdriver to make a few adjustments to the handgun.
You never really understood how to do all the fancy things he did with his weapons, and you probably should considering how intently you watched him whenever the pair of you came across one of these old benches - but you couldn’t focus on the guns which were in his hands. His big, strong, rough hands. You’d trade places with those guns just to feel his hands on you like that. He took so much care of the damn things too, like they were the most precious things in his life. Always cleaning and repairing them like this, practically never letting you touch them.. What did those guns have that you didn’t? You thought to yourself as you watched him, gaze drifting to his fingers in particular. The ones you’d dreamt about far too many times, the ones you’d imagined inside of yourself rather than your own when you touched yourself. It was the way they moved, how thick they were, and how the veins in his hands and muscles flexed when he gripped his bow, and the way his arms would shine with his sweat as he worked. You’d lick the sweat off his body if he asked you to. Depraved as it sounds.
Not that you’d ever admit it.
Your absolutely maddening desire for and sickening crush on the man whom you knew close to nothing about. Just his name and a few things he revealed to you when the night was particularly long or the whisky he was having took a toll on his judgement, loosening him up for once. You knew where he was from, what his job was before, and you knew that he was basically just a grumpy old asshole who was only good for beating up guys when you went on supply runs.
He had never been overly kind to you, not that you needed it, had never asked you any questions, didn’t make small talk, and was a ruthless murderer.
You loved every single thing about him.
And you wanted to show him. You wanted him to love you back, no matter how he’d love you. You wouldn’t mind if he was a cold lover, a mean one - hell, he almost definitely was - you’d take him any way you could get him.
You looked back at his hands once more, subconsciously pulling your bottom lip between your teeth when he had to use his ring and middle fingers to clean out part of another gun, your thighs clenching together as you felt the all-too-familiar wetness start to form between them and making you groan when you realised you’d probably have to rub one out when you got back later. It was honestly annoying the amount of times you came by your own hand, his name on your lips, because you knew how much better it would feel if it was his thick fingers pushing into you, his big hands palming your breasts, his strong arms holding you down as he made you come over and over…
“Let’s get goin’.” He says suddenly, breaking you out of your thoughts as he tucks his gun away and slings his backpack on.
You push yourself off of the wall and follow him quickly, trying not to look flustered although you very much felt it.
He came to an abrupt stop when you reached your normal exit from this little pitstop en route to the guys who gave you weapons, and you almost walked face-first into his back.
“Joel? Wha-” you began, but he cut you off.
“This shouldn’t be closed.” He murmurs, like he’s talking to himself, not allowing you any time to respond before he’s going over to pull the chain which should open the garage door.
It doesn’t.
No matter how much he pulls on the metal, grunting and groaning and making your eyes flutter shut whilst you force your needy whimpers down with the noises he’s making, it barely opens, slamming shut every time he gets close to getting it open a quarter of the way.
“Fuck.” He grits, giving up and slamming his hand against the thing. It would be no use trying with that door anymore, the noise it was making was getting too loud anyway.
He stands there, clearly thinking hard about what to do. You can’t turn back because that would just lead you straight back to the QZ, which was useless to you right now, but you don’t have any other secured ways to get to your vendors - how could he have been so stupid to not plan ahead, he ridicules himself silently.
“Joel? What’s the plan?” You ask, getting slightly impatient with his constant silence. He may have been this hot brooding older man, but he could really leave you in the dark sometimes like this.
“Will you let me think, goddamnit?” He responds, clearly annoyed with your current predicament, scratching at his jaw before looking back up at you.
“Could try that window.” You suggest quietly, looking upwards. It was high and small, but you’d be able to get through it if he gave you a boost up.
He gave you a small nod before you both made your way up there and he got into position, hands outstretched and placed together as you got on and pushed yourself up. Normally, whenever he did this, you’d feel all dizzy afterwards from the proximity and his touch - but as soon as you looked out the window you were horrified. There were infected, just past the jammed door - and a whole lot of them. You weren’t getting past that. Forget the deal, you’d come back another day.
“Joel.” You say, not even realising you were whispering. He doesn’t answer.
“Joel! Joel, get me down.” You whisper-shout, and he furrows his brows.
“Why? What’s the matter?” He asks, and you have to fight against the urge to roll your eyes.
“Just get me down.” You say through clenched teeth, taking another look outside the window before he carefully lowers you. Of course, he boosts you up regularly, but he rarely ever tries to get you back down, so you stumble a bit and end up with your face against his chest as he falls back onto the wall slightly.
“Jesus, woman!” He grunts, but you don’t even try to move, you just look up at him with those fucking doe eyes of yours and it takes everything in him to not groan at the sight of you. God knows how many times he’s imagined you looking up at him whilst you sucked his cock, knelt on the floor with tears in your eyes and your hair all messy for him with your big eyes staring into his.
You open your mouth to speak, before realising the position you’re in and quickly standing up.
“I- there were infected outside, Joel.” You explain after a moment.
“So?” He questions you, squinting in confusion slightly. You’ve taken down infected before, no problem. What’s the issue today?
“No, like- I swear it looked like there were a hundred of them. Just this big fucking horde, right outside the garage door.” You gestured back towards the exit.
He clenched his jaw. Yeah, okay, you could take down some infected, not a hundred.
“Y’sure?”
“I’m fucking sure, Joel!” You almost yelled, way too many emotions going on in your body for you to act normal right now.
“Alright, alright, calm down.” He looked back outside. It was almost dark, there was no way you could get back to Boston in time now. It just wasn’t safe to go that far so late, and there was no point since you’d have to sneak by all the guards - who hopefully wouldn’t notice if you were gone for one night - to get back in.
“Go check all the doors, lock ‘em and then barricade ‘em. We’re gonna have to hold up here for tonight, then go back at dawn.” He decides, and you gape at him like a fish.
“We’re staying here?! Joel, what about curfew and the- the fucking infected right outside-” you start, but he silences you once again.
“We’re gonna be fine. When have things ever gone wrong for us since you started comin’ out with me?” He questions sternly, and you ponder it.
Never, really. He always saved you, and you’d save him when he needed it - even though it was only a handful of times he did.
“‘Kay, fine. Whatever.” You mumble stubbornly before turning round to go secure the doors leading to the small mechanic store you’d be staying in.
He looks around himself for any openings and closes them up before you both end up back in the main room.
It’s mostly silent as you look around at different things, poking at the ruined cars and whatnot whilst he sits on a crate and watches you as discreetly as possible.
“I have a question.” You say, turning to face him and making him snap his head away from you before you notice he was looking at you already.
He grunts to tell you to continue speaking, looking back at you when you do.
“Could you like.. show me how to fix up my guns and stuff? ‘Cause you always do it for me and I just thought it was.. Cool.” you murmur, trailing off at the end.
He actually lets out a small laugh at that. Not in a mean way, necessarily, just kind of teasingly.
“Cool?” He repeats with raised eyebrows.
“Yeah, cool. It just- with all the attachments and shit. And I can never clean them properly.” You sigh, walking up closer to him. “Please? We’ve got nothing else to do.”
The sound of you saying please for him in that small voice wins him over. “Fine.” He gets up off the crate, walking back over to the workbench and flicking the light on before taking your gun from you. He talks you through it, shows you a little how to clean it before letting you try it yourself, and then he shows you how to add a scope to it. You can’t quite grasp it though, not being strong and precise enough to attach it properly, so he places his hands on top of yours and helps you screw it on.
The contact makes you shudder so violently that he definitely felt it, and you want to crumple into the ground.
“What was that for?” He murmurs, and you almost jump at how close he is now, voice loud and breath hot on the side of your face as he leans over your shoulder to look at the gun whilst he tries to help you.
“No-nothing.” You squeak, breathing at least ten times faster now.
He feels it. He knows. He has to know, you’d been so stupid and revealed it all now. Joel Miller was not an idiot and he knew how you felt and he’d hate you for it. Your thoughts spiralled.
“Nothin’, huh?” He taunts, a smirk pulling at his lips as he watches you slowly crumble. To make it worse, he turns you in his hold, so you’re pinned with your back to the desk and his hands on either side of you.
“Y’alright, darlin’? You look awfully hot. Don’t got a fever or nothin’?” He mumbles, seeing how far he can push you as he leans in closer.
“I-I’m fine.” You say quietly, mesmerised by the sight of his face so close as you notice little details you’d never noticed before, barely even realising his lips are so close to your own until he’s pressing them to yours.
You make a slight noise of surprise before you get lost in it. The feeling of his lips against yours was something you’d dreamed about for so long, and now it was finally happening.
Your hands come up and around his neck, pulling him closer towards you as he deepens the kiss, forcing his tongue inside your mouth and overpowering you immediately as he pushes you back onto the workbench, sitting you on top of it and already working open the buttons of your jeans.
He kisses you one more time before getting to his knees and pulling your pants completely off, eyeing your panties, a dark patch in the middle of them from your growing arousal.
“Joel, please.” You whimper from above him as his hands run up your legs, coming to your inner thighs before toying with the elastic of your panties.
“Y’need me here, darlin’?” He asks, smirking up at you as his fingers move to rub slow circles into your clit through the fabric.
“Fuck!” You gasp at the contact, needy and desperate for him by this point. “Yes, please- please Joel.” You’re reduced to begging already, something you figure only he had the power to make you do.
He shushes you gently, fingers slowly peeling your panties down and groaning at the sight of your bare cunt, dripping and pulsing with need.
“Fuck, baby. Such a pretty pussy, so fuckin’ wet. This all for me?” He hums, dragging a finger up and down your slit, gathering your wetness on it and sucking it into his mouth as he looks up at you.
You whine at the sight of him between your legs like this, not knowing how you’re going to survive when he actually makes contact with you, and nod furiously.
“Yes, oh my god. Yes, it’s all for you Joel.” You say quickly, and he seems satisfied with that answer, finally moving his face to your core and making you squirm as his hot breath fans over your pussy.
“Stop fuckin’ movin’.” He murmurs, seemingly enraptured by the sight of you, staring for a few seconds and making you want to shift away again under his intense gaze, but he has an arm on you to make sure you don’t move.
And then he finally, finally, licks a long stripe up your pussy, tongue running along your wet folds. And you fucking lose it.
“Oh my god, Joel, please. Fuck- fuck, please, more-” you start begging, moaning loudly as he picks up the pace and continues to devour you, drinking down your wetness, and eventually kissing and sucking at your clit. His fingers, those thick gorgeous fingers you’d dreamed of for so long, tease your entrance before he’s pushing those inside, making you wail at the feeling of something inside of you, getting you closer to that release you were aching for by this point.
“Fuck, yes!” You cry out, thighs shaking slightly as you feel yourself getting close.
“That’s right, baby. You like that?” He asks, voice an octave lower as he pumps his fingers in and out of your tight heat, tongue still working you over relentlessly.
“Please- it feels so good-” you whine in response, fingers grasping for something to hold onto, to tether yourself to earth with as you feel yourself start to float away. Finding his hair and tugging slightly which makes him groan.
“Good girl.” He praises, adding another finger. He curls his fingers, searching for your g-spot and finding it easily.
You moan weakly at the praise, hips bucking as you grind yourself against his mouth, the ridge of his nose stimulating your clit perfectly as your fingers pull at his hair, and before you know it, you’re coming with a hoarse scream of his name.
You see white as your thighs quiver around his head, tensing and squeezing slightly as he continues to work you through it, lapping at your juices until you cry out from the overstimulation.
He removes his fingers from your hole, licking them clean once more before standing up and removing his own clothes, revealing his hard cock and making your eyes widen slightly.
Of course he was big, you’d stared at the bulge of his jeans enough times to realise that, and you’d imagined it before, but it all paled in comparison to finally seeing it.
He was long, slightly curved, girthy with a flushed red tip which had precome leaking out of it as he pumped himself slowly with a smirk on his face.
“Cat got your tongue, pretty girl?” He hums teasingly, and you can’t even think straight anymore, just pulling him forward and kissing him hungrily as he positioned his cock at your slick entrance.
Needy little whines and whimpers flowed freely from your mouth straight into his, where he swallowed them whole before starting to push into you.
You part from the kiss suddenly, gasping as he pushes deeper and deeper, stretching you thoroughly, and you feel grateful that he has the decency to start off slow since you already feel like crying from how big he is, how fucking good it feels.
When he bottoms out, you’re already wrecked. He’s huge inside of you, and you can feel everything. Every single ridge, vein, and twitch of his pulsing cock as your walls hug him tightly.
“Y’okay?” He murmurs softly, making your heart swell at how tender he sounds right now, and you nod in response.
“Joel.. please move.” You whisper, and he complies, grabbing your hips and barely giving you a moment to think before he’s starting to pound into you, making you squeal as your arms came around his neck, nails digging into his back before his head ducks down into the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking at your pulse point and making you clench harder around him, before moving down to your breasts, palming them and taking one of your nipples into his mouth as you scream his name.
“Joel! I’m gonna- gonna come- oh god, please!” You cry out, back arching. He growls, picking up the pace. He could feel his orgasm building, but he needed you to come first, needed to feel your tight walls clenching and gushing around him before he even considered his own pleasure.
“Come on, baby. Give me one more and I’ll fill you up. Fuck this little cunt full of me.. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He says, voice low and husky as his balls slap against your ass, the loud sound of your wetness filling the room as you start to tremble once more.
“Yes! Fuck, Joel. Need it so bad. Want your come inside of me. Please, Joel.” You gasp, making him groan as his fingers move down to rub at your clit.
“Come for me, baby.” He encourages, speeding up even more and hitting that spot inside of you that makes you see stars, making you scream as you come and dissolve into a shaking, whimpering mess whilst he continues to thrust into you.
“That’s it, darlin’. Come all over my cock.” He grunts, his own release approaching quickly. The sounds of your moans and cries are enough to set him off, barely thrusting a few more times before stilling and filling you with his hot seed, slowly fucking it even deeper inside of you before pulling out and looking at you.
Skin flushed, panting heavily, come leaking down your thighs. You looked perfect. He wished that cameras were still around so he could take a picture of how you looked right now, keep it in his pocket wherever he went. But he couldn’t, and he realised you probably needed cleaning up now as your hazy eyes blinked open and looked at him. You were quiet, thinking about what this meant for the two of you now. Would he go back to being the cold man you knew? Would he be even colder? Would he suddenly be attentive and caring towards you?
You supposed you got your answer when he gently cupped your face, thumb stroking your cheek as he looked at you with something scarily close to love in his eyes, the gaze he’d somehow managed to conceal from you all these months which he could now finally show you.
“You okay?” He murmurs, and you nod weakly in response. He hums, giving you another small kiss before walking off to go get a rag to clean you up with.
“Hold on, let me just..” he mumbles to himself as he goes to try clean off any dust from the rag, before returning to between your thighs and cleaning away any evidence of your previous activities, tossing the rag somewhere and handing you your clothes. You get dressed quietly before he takes your hand and leads you over to a space on the floor where you set up your sleeping bags, putting them as close together as possible until he eventually just lets you tuck yourself into his, wrapping his strong arms around you from behind and falling asleep.
You listen to his soft snores, feel his calloused hands on your stomach where they snakes under your shirt before he fell asleep, and smile to yourself softly before falling asleep with him.
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Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated and my requests are open 💞
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dolene · 22 hours
Text
COMPETITIVE GAMES ; yuki tsunoda x reader
summary: how does a casual game night could turn into something more than just a night and it's only because of his competitive nature.
note: yukierre reference because even their gf couldn't top their bromance, AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY YUKI!!
taglist: @seasonswinter @haikyuen @callsignwidow
...★...
pierregasly
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liked by yourusername and 110,936 others
pierregasly What a real game starter because I win 😄🥇
view all 322 comments
username Why is it so hard to believe on something like this if it's Pierre who post it?
yukitsunoda0511 Because I'm the one who's actually winning but I let him win
pierregasly Stop spreading lies, you kicked me twice during the race
username how tf is he even be there w him? yesterday he's literally still vlogging in miami
username Yuki is so cute! ^^
username You can even see his impatience on the second slide because he's never been a patient man
yukitsunoda0511 I've been practicing my patience ever since I dated yourusername
yourusername same tbh
yourusername
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liked by franciscac.gomes and 61,534 others
yourusername i warn him about this before, and look he's breaking down on the dancefloor 😜
view all 197 comments
username Guys he's break-dancing
franciscac.gomes THERES MURDER ON THE DANCEFLOOOORRRRR 😌🎶
username oh man he really is getting murdered because of those brazilian phonk dances
username Idk but that is so Yuki
username I bet he got an F
username WHY IS HE IN BRAZIL
username Yuki Tsunoda reportedly has fallen during the dance, defeated by his girlfriend
yourusername 😌
yukitsunoda0511 This is just your lucky day, my legs are getting tired
yourusername dances are not your forte, so why are you still picking it tho 🖐️😭
yourusername Proving my real dance skills until my legs are betraying me
pierregasly The best thing he could ever done is to beat me at karaoke
yukitsunoda0511 No I'm not, I beat you in everything in games
username damn i forgot his ego's big as a goddamn boulder
yukitsunoda0511
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liked by pierregasly and 102,533 others
yukitsunoda0511 I let her win.
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yourusername 😄
danielricciardo I thought that you guys was just being there for a day or two...?
username nothing can beat his competitiveness
starwars I see you yoda biggest fan
yukitsunoda0511 I wasn't sure if it's real BUT YES IT'S ME
username Because that's him in the second slide (real)
username what a real thing that he would absolutely do to receive more scores
username short king is finally winning (his second place)
username WHYS HE CLIMBING THE MACHINE LIKE THAT😭😭😭😭
Y/N'S INSTASTORY, A DAY AFTER DEFEATING YUKI
yourusername · 3h
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caption: at the end of the day, he's finally defeating me
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heyidkyay · 2 days
Text
And I'm petrified of being alone, now |
Part Twenty-Four
Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.
What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?
Authors note: I’m here:) finally. It’s been a while, idk how long, not that long but long enough i guess, sorry for the wait! This one is wordy but also has a lot going on, so hope you enjoy!
Ngl, this can probably be read as a standalone if anyone’s seeing this and not started the series, it’s just a bit angsty and mostly smut? But unsure, I said probably! X
Warnings: Arguing, usual Matty and Mouse thinking (feels like it needs its own warning at this point, they’re saddos), smut, unprotected sex, EMOTIONS (because yeah)
> Last update: look back here if you'd like!
Masterlist
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There was something raw in the bitterness that was love. Like the sour skin of an apple that was first thought to be sweet. Love was deceiving in itself really, but it was never alone. It brought life and light. It wrought anger. It stirred both jealousy and pity. It gave and gave, until all you were left with was that tart tang aftertaste. 
Some people revelled in it.
Others, withered away.
Years before, perhaps maybe not even that long ago now, Matty would have belonged to the former. He had enjoyed the strings he found that could tie him to people, sex and money had given him the ability to do it, to keep them there, to pull them alongside him. And he’d indulged in it all, beyond what most would consider extortionate. 
And still, even after everything, when the fun had ended and the games had been discarded, and he’d just been tossed off somewhere to the side… Alone once more. He had continued on. On and on and on, until he ultimately had lost himself completely.
The last few months had shifted something in him though.
And now here he was, still angry and bitter and resentful. But full of actual love. The raw type. The kind that left you marvelling at the most stupid things— insipid little concepts that held no actual value or any real detail worth getting all starry-eyed over.
It had wormed its way into the hollow shell that was his heart and rebuilt some part of him that he believed he had long since destroyed.
He wanted to scoff at the very thought. The very idea that an emotion could be felt so strongly that it differed the world around you; that, singularly, it could change you. The notion was far too complex, too out there to even begin to fathom, but then again, Matty supposed that emotions were exactly that. Complex.
It sent his mind reeling. Had his entire body aching with a fever to expel the feeling completely, if only so that he could think freely again, so it wouldn’t hurt to merely breathe anymore.
You should have told me.
He knew that. He had admitted as much.
And yet, he still hadn’t told her.
He’d lied.
Why didn’t you tell me?
And that was the question, wasn’t it? Why hadn’t he just told her?
Fear, he guessed.
Yet another morbid emotion in which Matty had always been so wary of. Another lost feeling he thought he’d swallowed whole and hidden somewhere deep down. Because there was no fear in a drug induced haze. When you were off partying or chasing some other euphoric high. What the fuck was there to be fearful of? When the chilling buzz which shook you to your very core blanketed over everything else.
When there was always that silence.
That numb quiet he had chased and craved and cherished.
Though, he supposed, it was nothing compared to the fear of losing this.
Of losing her.
Still, Matty could not for the life of him find it in himself to tell her exactly that. Those words lost on him, lodged in the column of his throat and etching themselves a home there.
“Where do we go from here?”
He blinked at the sound of his own voice, looking up at her shadowed expression and at how tired she then seemed. How different she now looked compared to the moment they’d first met. 
She’d been something of a presence even then. Always effortlessly complex. With her soft smile and guarded eyes. Eyes he’d gone and fucking wondered about for hours on end.
Those eyes which were now caught on the far wall stood opposite, the one lined with coloured photo frames and that odd little doodle Teddy had gotten in trouble for only a couple of weeks prior. 
The realisation made Matty mourn the few days they’d spent apart.
After a long moment, she finally shrugged at him and he found himself swallowing tightly at the movement. Startled by her seeming lack of care. 
“I don’t want to lose you, Squeaks.” 
It was honest. As honest as he could be.
She huffed an amused breath in return though, “Not like you’re short on company, Matty.”
He felt his gaze snap up to meet hers then, head shifting with it. 
“What’s that even meant to mean?” He asked her, frowning now, at the way she had crossed her arms over her chest and how her shoulders had hunched on their own accord whilst she casually moved to glance out the window. Matty forced himself up onto his feet, hating the fact she had turned away from him.
“I saw everything, Matty.” Mouse replied tiredly, as though she was fed up, fed up with this, with them. “I saw the articles.”
Matty’s stomach bottomed out at her words, he stepped towards her. “Nothing happened.” He murmured, taking another step closer. “Nothing fucking happened, Squeaks. I swear it.”
She tensed but didn’t quite flinch at his sudden approach, so he kept a little distance between them, even as desperate as he was to hold her. To shake her enough so that she would see sense, that she’d realise how stupid he would have had to have been to have gone near anyone else. That girl was no one, she’d meant nothing. 
“You can swear that, can you?” She mocked him, one corner of her mouth toying with a merciless smile that didn’t quite suit her. “You were gone, Matty. Fucking out of it. That much was clear to see just from the photos alone.”
Matty stared at her helplessly.
She shook her head.
“I’d had a couple drinks. That isn’t a crime!” He stressed, automatically falling onto the defensive, “Didn’t mean I was stupid enough to get with the first person I fucking saw! That girl- she was off her head too. Had mates with her even! But she was just trying to help me, Mouse. That’s all it was.” 
She was shaking her head again now, tongue catching on her incisor; a dead giveaway to how stressed she was, how anxious she was getting. Matty only wished to shoulder it all, that defensiveness of his faltering slightly at the sight of her trying to hide it all. To stay strong. How fucking long had she had to do that?
“I feel like such a fool, Matty.” She finally spoke, her voice trembling with the onslaught of tears that glazed her eyes but she didn’t dare let fall. “A fucking fool. ‘Cause I’d thought that things were okay, that we were okay. That I could finally relax and let you in. But then-“ She paused, a sad huff leaving her, “Then you went and dropped this mess in my lap and somehow expected me to just deal with it. To tell you it’s all fine. That we could make it right.”
Mouse turned then, ever so slowly, looking about as defeated as Matty had ever seen her. He felt his chest burn with the last breath he hadn’t remembered taking let alone hold onto, too afraid to look away, to even move. 
“But you embarrassed me. You’ve made the whole world believe I am that fool. That I was as naive as they’d first made me out to be. As my friends thought me to be.” 
Her smile was shattered and broken, her voice wet and hoarse, but she continued on even as her hands fell limply to her sides and she took a single step closer.
“And to make things worse, you didn’t just hurt me, Matty. You hurt Teddy too.”
Hit them where it hurts.
That was the saying, wasn’t it?
But it only left me feeling all the more sour- gutless. As well as a little stupid, I supposed, wondering if Matty even cared for Teddy at all, or how he had felt the last couple days.
Though I shouldn’t have second guessed it, not when the way Matty’s face immediately paled and then fell proved me wrong. 
Deep down, I knew that he cared. In his own odd way he had always cared. But to know it and to see it were two entirely different things.
And although it was true, that Matty had in fact hurt Teddy. It still felt like a shitty thing to say to him then. But he’d hurt me as well, hadn’t he. And even though I’d been hurting most of my life, Matty being the reason for all that hurt pained me in a way I couldn’t even comprehend. 
“I didn’t-”
I scoffed at his attempted reply, but my heart wasn’t in it, breaking all over again. I wondered how long we could drag this out. If we even would.
“Mean to?” I finished for him, shaking my head stupidly. “I know you didn’t mean to, Matty. Doesn’t change the fact that you still did it.”
His eyes slipped closed just as his lips fell apart, and when he opened them again I was stuck staring into his devastated gaze. 
“If I could take it all back, I would.” He breathed, “I promise you I would.”
I swallowed back my own tears, even as they burned and pricked at my throat and eyes. “But you can’t.”
And it was as simple as that, wasn’t it? He couldn’t ever take it back. 
I don’t want to lose you.
He knew just how to get under my skin, past all that rusted armour of mine.
It was what made this all so much harder. 
“Tell me what to do, Squeaks.” Matty croaked pleadingly, hand reaching out towards me before he looked down at it, blinked, and then let it fall. “I’ll do it, just– tell me.”
What was left that he could do? When it felt like things had so suddenly and so horrifically fallen out from under us.
“I don't know.” I told him honestly, in a barely there whisper, “I just don't know, Matty.”
He stepped even closer then, hand moving to capture my jaw in a determined haste, not restraining himself like he had just moments before. I tried to pull away, titling my chin and looking off to the side as I clenched my teeth, but his thumb was there, luring me back in, forcing me to meet his eye.
“I’m not just gonna give up.” His other hand jumped to cradle my face, a cushion to those heated words. 
I was reluctant in my needless wanting, desperate to be held whilst simultaneously wanting to push him away. So I lifted my hands up to cover his own, unsure of the choice they’d make. To stay, or go.
“It’s not about that, Matty.” I heard myself say pathetically, voice wavering with each word, “You can’t just forget this.”
His dark eyes were trained on me, flickering over every square inch of my scarred face. I’d never felt insecure about them when I was around him, but this moment felt too heated, too high strung. And I’d been burning the candle at both ends the last few days, so with him being this close, this intense, every emotion I’d felt was brimming closer and closer to the surface. 
Instead of facing him, I turned away, hiding once more as I worked my jaw and felt my hands slip down to the backs of his forearms.
A shared breath and then,
“Don’t do that.” Matty whispered in the quiet, almost begging. “Don’t hide from me.”
His thumb smoothed over the skin of my cheek and I was all but putty in hands, looking back at him just as a tear escaped me and slid to meet the pad of it. 
Matty brushed the tear away without thought, before he leant in to rest his forehead against my own. The action forced me to cling tighter to his arms, eyes closing to keep from embarrassing myself any further. I wouldn’t cry. 
I wouldn’t cry.
“Look at me.” He demanded, nose so close that I could practically sense its phantom touch. And foolishly, I did as he asked. “You-” His breath stuttered as his eyes pleaded with me, sounding forced as it broke free from him, his fingers making a home for themselves in my hair. 
“You don’t know what you do to me. How much of a mess I’ve made of myself. How much I have missed you.” Matty confessed, his voice quiet in the small space shared between us, in a place where we were both sheltered and unseen. “And I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry. Enough that I’ll keep on repeating it until you fucking believe me. Enough that I’d do just about anything for you to see how much I want this.”
He sucked in a breath, and I blinked back at him, lips tingling with the sensation of his proximity. 
“I know I messed up. I know.” He repeated, eyes flickering back and forth between my own whilst his thumbs trailed the line of my hair. “But all I’m asking for is a chance to make it right. To be better. Squeaks, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat if I could.”
His breath was tickling the skin of my cheek as well as the corner of my mouth, it almost made it difficult to think let alone remember how to breathe. I wanted–
Suddenly my eyes were looking down, focused on his parted mouth, on the stubble he’d let grow across the cut of his chin as well as his upper lip. His nose finally brushed past my own, touching ever so carefully as one or both of us pressed nearer, almost there, inching closer but not close enough.
“Tell me no.” 
Instantly, I was thrown back to that first night he kissed me. I hadn’t told him no then, and for some reason I couldn’t find it in me to decline him now. 
So instead I took, all but biting as my hand cradled the back of his neck and closed that short amount of distance between us. My nails dug into the exposed skin of his nape, where the collar of his shirt jumped with each move he made. My teeth nipped at his lower lip, angry in my attempt to swallow him whole, teeth clashing as we both stumbled, moving and moving until Matty’s back hit the nearest wall.
How the roles had reversed, I thought to myself as Matty’s shoulders flexed beneath his shirt and jumped under my ever roaming hands. I hated the desire that it stirred through me, knowing how easily he could take back control with his carefully contained strength. But he didn’t, instead he gave my fury something to latch onto.
My hand lifted to pin one of his wrists somewhere to the left of his head, glare not wavering even as his stubborn gaze met my own. He was as riled up as me.
“You have some nerve.” I all but spat, watching on as his chest rose and fell, questioning how quickly everything had switched.
“Yeah?” Matty bit back, those familiar brown eyes- a colour that had always brought me comfort- were blazing now as they trailed over the flush that I was sure lined my face. “Why’s that? You’re the one with me pinned, darlin’.” 
His heavy gaze traced the bow of my lip, slumping ever slightly in his stance so that his head could fall closer forward. My breath hitched.
That was all he needed apparently, to earn the upper hand here. Because in a moment, the room was spinning and then I was the one being crowded against the wall, fury be damned.
Contrary to my previous endeavour, Matty’s touch was still as careful as ever, making it that much more obvious that I could slip away if I so wanted. But the question was whether or not I did.
“Matty–”
But he just carried on, as though he hadn’t even heard me speak, voice a low breathy murmur. 
“I’ve been stuck in this endless loop. Driving myself mad.” He told me, his knee angled enough so that he could let his head dip towards the juncture of my neck, his mouth pausing by the shell of my ear whilst a finger gently trailed its way up over my hip. “Wonderin’ if I’d lost this for good.”
My heart pounded in my chest as the ghost of his words tickled my skin, tensing when his nose ever so slightly grazed my jaw. 
That finger of his continued to move, working its way up my torso, jumping across my ribs and up to the bone of my collar. My gaze was fixed on the opposing wall, on the mirror that framed my dazed face and the back of his head. My hand worked its way into his unruly curls.
“But you’re as stubborn as me, see.” Matty added, luring me in, “And I’m not the type to give up on a sure thing.” His words held enough bite that I snapped back to meet his stare, he tilted his head at me whilst I scowled.
“Excuse me?”
Matty smiled, lids heavy as his careful hand danced its way back down my front. 
“And this,” He said, almost in a whisper, ignoring my retort as he hooked my leg around his waist, “This is a sure thing.”
A soft breath escaped me even as I batted his hand away, but he simply reached up to grip at my chin, touch tender even with the way his calloused thumb dragged down my lower lip.
I was slowly beginning to imagine that this was all a dream, something my sick mind had gone and conjured up in hopes to ignore all of the hurt he had put me through. Because this couldn’t be right, things couldn’t have fallen back into place this easily. 
“Matty.” I tried again, firmer this time, but was captured by the look his eyes held, probably having understood the expression that must have just crossed my face.
“What did you do, Squeaks?” He asked me almost hurriedly, shaking my chin between his forefinger and thumb, my previous anger and doubt melting slightly as I leaned further into his touch. “Did you want me to hurt, too?”
I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question, his swift change in topic. Baffled by the fact that he was now trying to pin this back on me. 
Was that really what this was? I wanted to ask.
Matty didn’t give me the opportunity to say a thing though. My surprise had stalled me briefly, but it had evidently been long enough to allow him to simply carry on.
“What did you do, eh? Tell me.” He breathed before he pressed his mouth to my jaw, once and then twice, pulling away just as I tilted my head to accommodate him, “Did you go out, baby? Find somebody else? Or did you just stay here, waiting for me?”
I reeled back, anger spiking again. “Fuck you.”
Matty’s eyes flickered back and forth between mine. 
“I’m trying to get you to.” He said, always so brazen and snarky, even in the moments where I hated him most. The hand I had previously slapped away went back to the leg he still had draped over his hip, snaking up over my knee and to my thigh. 
My glare didn’t waiver, even as my breathing picked up at the pressure his fingertips wrought on my skin. 
“Tell me no.” He finally repeated, eyes failing to meet mine. And how was I supposed to? When having him this close brought back that fire he’d put out in me, when he was kissing my neck so sweetly?
“We’ll regret it.” It was as close to a no as I could get, enough to have him pause. Matty looked to me then, his hold loosening on my body but still holding. Hoping.
“Do you care?”
I marvelled at the question, did I care?
I cared so much it pained me.
But he hadn’t meant it like that. That much I knew.
Do you care if you regret it? Because, what if you don’t? 
With Matty there was always chance– he was the type to play the odds, to push his luck.
What if.
What if, what if, what if?
Shaking my head, I was forced to question if he understood me as much as I did him. If he could see each of my thoughts just as they dawned on me, flashing across my face like a story being told. 
Then I wondered whether or not I even wanted him to understand. This, this thing we were doing would only further complicate things between us, but perhaps this could be a goodbye.
But, if this was a goodbye, why was he looking at me like that? Watching and waiting for me to truly answer.
Tell me no, he’d said.
Matty’s gaze swept over my face, as though trying to read me, maybe in hopes to find what it was he was really searching for. 
Tell me no.
“Please.”
And my resolve broke at the word.
“Okay.” I heard myself say in reply, nodding quickly, and that was seemingly all the permission he needed before Matty was wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me towards him fully.
My hands floundered momentarily before they were back on his shoulders, his teeth nipping at my neck. 
I moaned, eyes falling shut as he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses down my skin, teeth scraping before his tongue swirled to soothe their angry ambush. I could smell him everywhere now, the shampoo I was so used to stealing, as well as the only aftershave he’d ever claimed to like.
His hips rolled into mine, pressing himself right against the fabric of my trousers and the underwear which had grown damp during our heated argument. 
I didn’t want to linger too long on the thought of my body’s obvious betrayal, too caught up in him to think about how wrong this should all feel.
“Shit.” Matty groaned, breath catching with it as he continued to grind against me.
I gasped back, grabbing at him harder as he bit down on the curve of my neck. I nipped at his jaw in retaliation, nails digging into the skin of his back, hoping to leave a mark.
“I knew you’d miss me.” He grunted into the base of my throat, the hands which held my waist dipping beneath the hem of my shirt to explore further. “Even when you’re angry you’ll wait. ‘Cause no one else can touch like me.”
A whine bypassed my lips almost involuntarily as he continued to rut against me, I wanted to be angry- no, in fact, I was angry. But all emotion other than want was blurring at the edges of my mind now, being pushed further and further back by each eager kiss he peppered along my jaw.
“You really–” I jerked in surprise, cutting myself off with a short gasp when his hand slipped past the hem of my trousers, fingers pressing against the damp fabric he found there. 
“What was that?” He provoked, and I could hear the smirk in his voice as he trailed over my covered clit, causing me to whimper before I was biting down on my lower lip. Matty didn’t like that much. “Come on, I wanna hear you.” He muttered, pressing a little harder, wanting a reaction. “Tell me.”
“You’re such a bastard.” I panted, head falling against his shoulder as my hips pushed further into his touch, seeking more.
Matty laughed, all breathy and lovely, mouth catching on the lobe of my ear before he hissed, “Yeah, but you like that about me.”
His hand was gone with that and I was almost tempted to ask, to even plead with him for its return, aching all the more now, enough that all I could think about was riding his fingers until I couldn’t think at all. 
But then Matty was grabbing my waist again, his grip hard, firm, and I swallowed when he whispered into my ear once more.
“Jump.”
Without thinking, I jumped. 
We collided, his mouth on mine and the two of us moving as though it was second nature. And in a way, it was. But it shouldn’t have been. I knew that. I tried to remind myself of it. 
He shouldn’t be here.
But he was. Walking his way through my flat with ease, effortlessly missing each sharp corner and the miniscule step which led back into the hallway. He was blind, my hands in his hair as he manoeuvred us into my bedroom, throwing me down onto sheets that he’d never seen, let alone slept in. 
I tugged him down with me, his hands moving to unbutton those fucking jeans he always wore as he worked his way back into my mouth. 
He hovered over me after kicking them off, my head pressed to the pillows as his eyes roamed every inch of my face. “Beautiful.” He whispered, as though he hadn’t really meant to say the word aloud.
My breath hitched anyway but Matty paid it no mind, leaning in closer to kiss me again, slower this time around, though his hands were still quick, tugging at the hem of my top enough so that I got the hint. I lifted myself up, breaking away to take it off and toss it to the side. 
Matty kissed his way down my neck again, following the trail of scars down my torso until his fingers paused to hook around the top of my trousers. I nodded at his silent ask, planting my feet a little firmer on the mattress so that they could follow my tee.
Matty stopped then, kneeling between my parted thighs, eyes caught on the panties I was wearing, and I could swear something in his gaze shifted as he stared down at me. 
“Lace?” He murmured, fingers curling around my thighs tight enough to bruise as he pushed forward, closer to my face. “Really?”
It was a loaded question. Almost felt like an accusation.
I shrugged– I hadn’t meant to end up here, but it hadn’t been subconscious when I’d picked them out of the pile this morning. He liked the way they looked, had told me so one night spent at his when he’d talked me into smoking a couple joints with him sprawled out on his living room floor. 
I opened my mouth to reply but Matty didn’t quite catch the motion, already busying himself with the task of pulling the lace down my thighs. His fingers, calloused from years of playing guitar, dragged alongside the black material rolling down my legs. I tensed at the feeling, zeroing in on the slow motion, then listened to him groan at the sight before they were gone completely.
I watched him pull away, balling the damp fabric up in a fist before leaning over the side of the bed to drop them on top of his jeans. 
“A souvenir?” I couldn’t help but question, mostly out of mirth, but humour helped deflect from the weight I felt at having him here.
Matty hummed, fingers already back on me, trailing the length of my right leg before he was stretching his way back up again, head stopping between my parted thighs and nosing at a crease sat at the very top. He didn’t answer me though, instead choosing to shut me up with another gasp by dragging his thumb across my folds.
“Matty.”
“Hm?” He hummed again, having sat back on his heels to watch me squirm as he continued on. I shot him a rather annoyed glare.
“Take off your shirt and fuck me.” 
His brows rose languidly when he flicked his eyes back up to meet mine, then tilted his head. “But I’m having so much fun.”
With a swift kick to his side, Matty’s hand fell away and he shook his head around the beginnings of a smile. “Always so demanding.” He tutted and before I could spit something back– probably about him being the biggest hypocrite I knew– he was placing his hands either side of my head and leaning forward so that his lips were right beside my ear, his breath fanning the shell of it. “You gonna beg for it?”
My breathing grew heavy as I watched him pull away, dragging a finger up the inside of my thigh before stilling ever so briefly and venturing on, up over my hip and then my ribs. He pressed a slow kiss to my chest, eyes flicking up to find mine as his tongue swirled over the skin, there and then gone.
“Come on–”
He huffed a quiet laugh, the force of it lighting goosebumps over my exposed flesh. “Come on, baby. Beg.”
I rolled my eyes, reaching up to grab at his neck but he was already dancing out of my reach. He jutted his chin. 
“Matty.” I huffed.
“Yeah?”
I really wanted to throttle him, “Fuck me. I’m not asking.”
The corner of his mouth tugged itself up into a small smirk, “Good enough.”
A disbelieving chuckle escaped me, one which was quickly cut short by his wandering hands finding purchase on my hips once more, before he dragged me down the length of the bed, his mouth finding purchase on the swell of my breast.
He pressed fast kisses along the curve of it until his tongue flicked out over the nipple, causing me to gasp. My hands flew out to tangle themselves in his hair when he lapped it into his mouth to suck and I groaned at the weight of his hands cradling the curve of my back. 
“Matty.”
He hummed and the sound sent vibrations rippling out across my skin, I fisted my hands into his curls harder.
Shifting until my hips found his whilst he lavished at my chest, I pressed up into him, both annoyed by the fact he was still clad in his boxers and pleased by the very visible wet patch I could see. I ground against him and the sensation elicited moans from the pair of us, his hands flying down to hold my hips steady.
“Patience.” He murmured, but I was having none of it, lifting a leg against his arse to spur him closer. Matty’s head jerked up at the surprise before he looked down at me and stared. “You’ll be the death of me.”
“You better hope not.” I replied, hands finding the hem of his shirt and dragging it off before he could fight me on it. “I’ll make it painful.”
“Counting on it.” Matty murmured back, hair now a mess, either from the clutch I’d had on it moments before or from the way I’d all but yanked his top over his head. “On all fours,” He said roughly, tapping my outer thigh twice. My already flushed skin heated further at the understanding of how he wanted to take me but– contrary to popular belief– I didn’t argue and rolled onto my stomach.
Palms to the sheets, I pushed myself up onto my hands and knees, eyes trained on the headboard. I grinned to myself when I heard Matty groan at the sight, looking back over my shoulder only briefly to see him palming himself through his boxers.
“Don’t have all day, Healy.” I prompted after a moment passed, just before the mattress shifted beneath his weight. I heard something drop to the floor a second later before he was right up behind me.
I jolted a tad at his sudden touch, then was forced to focus on the way his hands slid over my hips with that same familiarity they’d always done, moving up to the swell of my arse to squeeze it before dropping back down to spread my legs further apart.
A moment passed and I was forced to wait in the silence he then gifted me, waiting and waiting until I finally went to say something. It was then that I felt a finger glide down my spine, dragging ever so slowly over my jumping muscles. 
“Hands,” Matty then reminded and I was forced to blink away the haze I had drifted into, reaching up to grab onto the headboard just as I felt him swipe his dick between my thighs, guiding himself up over my folds, pushing past them so he rested at my entrance. 
I let go of a rush of air, splaying my hands further against the headboard before he slammed into me without any warning at all, all the way up to the hilt whilst I cried out at the sudden fullness. “Fuck.” I hissed, head falling between my shoulders as I winced. 
I breathed through the bit of pain that came with the thrust, acknowledging that Matty didn’t move an inch and instead keeping still, hands holding my hips even as he leaned over to whisper, “You good?”
His voice was surprisingly soft in the quietness that encased the flat, reminding me of other times we’d spent here, both like this and in other odd moments. It made my chest ache.
I took another moment to adjust to him before I nodded, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”
He hummed in turn but didn’t question it, just waited, thumbs circling the skin on my hips for a moment in a manner so gentle and yet so very Matty, before finally, he moved. 
His thrusts were shallow and slow at first, his thumbs keeping the same steady tempo as they continued to soothe the tops of my hips. I moaned at the feel of him, before I managed to roll my hips back to meet his own, enjoying the sound that escaped him.
“So good.” He said, hand sliding further up my side and towards my ribs before I was titling my head back and Matty was holding a fistful of my hair. He just held it for a bit, forearm pressed against the skin of my back before his thrusts began to grow harder, tugging more and more.
The room was quickly filled with the sounds of our groans along with the bedframe rocking against the wall and I praised all the Gods above for the fact that there were currently no neighbours residing in the flat beyond it, before I was quickly swept up once more in the thick scent of sweat and sex. Matty fucking into me with a desperation I’d never quite experienced from him before.
I panted beneath him, nails digging into the wood of my headboard whilst he picked up the pace.
I couldn’t quite focus on anything but him. His breathy whispers, his fingertips which dotted my skin, the feel of him rocking in and out of me. It was almost as though nothing else existed but this moment, even if I knew it would soon end. His thrusts getting sloppier, his grip tightening, his murmured praises increasing by a tenfold. 
“Come on, baby.”
I liked when he called me that.
Made me feel special. 
But that thought soon soured. Because, was I really? 
How could I be anything special when my whole life I’d been nothing but a doormat for people to walk all over? I couldn’t help but think that Matty would be the same, like he’d gotten too close and finally seen what everybody else already had.
“Squeaks, baby. What do you need?”
I whimpered at his ask, tears collecting in the corners of my eyes. “I–”
What the fuck did I need? It wasn’t meant to feel so loaded, that question. But it felt as though the walls were now closing in. Because was this it? Was this the end?
“I–” I tried, feeling Matty’s fingers slip from the ends of my hair before a gentle palm laid itself flat on the small of my back.
“So good for me.” I heard him say and I moaned at the slight praise, breathing harder as he continued to mumble mostly to himself, “So pretty. So good.”
I was almost there, back arching under his palm as the other moved away from the right grasp it held on my hip, fingers finally finding my clit, knowing exactly what I needed.
“Yes.” I panted as the combination of his hard thrusts and steady hand sent my head into a dizzying pool of water, “God, yes. I–”
I think I screamed as I came, his fingers working deftly whilst mine clung to the headboard, body trembling as I fought to keep myself up. But Matty was there, holding me long enough so that he could reach his high and pull out with a loud grunt, coating my inner thighs. 
We stayed there for, I don’t know how long, until he finally released me, falling away whilst I slumped forward onto the pillows before us. He followed a second later, still catching his breath as he stared up at the ceiling. I watched him, eyes hidden behind my forearm and a sprawl of hair that had fallen over my face, content to soak in what I could of him. What I had left.
Then Matty shifted beside me, I half expected him to get up and leave with some half-arsed excuse on the tip of his tongue, but he paused when he caught my heavy gaze. I let my eyes trail over the side of face, on the tired circles settled beneath his lash line and the slope of his nose.
He looked back towards the ceiling.
“You got your souvenir, remember?” I found myself saying, stupidly, voice just above a croaked murmur, “Don’t let me keep you.”
Quiet. And then, “Do you want me to?”
I knew what he meant, but still I asked, “Want what?”
Matty’s head slowly turned towards me, eyes guarded and peering over at my devastated form. I wondered what he made of me right then, if he thought anything at all. 
When he offered me no words, I refused to add anything either and felt what was left of my heart crumple up into a pitiful bundle when he pushed himself to the edge of a bed with a barely there sigh.
The air in my lungs caught as I watched and waited, eyes trailing after him as he rounded the bed frame to pick up his discarded boxers. I let them slip closed again, not wanting to watch him leave. 
I listened to his feet pad across the hardwood floors and out of the room. My chest ached with every step but I didn’t dare stop him, burying my face further into my pillow. 
I laid in wait for the front door to open, for there to be a clue to his evident departure, but then the footsteps returned. I didn’t dare give myself false hope, knowing he must have forgotten something to have come back. But the padding continued, closer and closer until they were back by the bed and I held my breath as it creaked, my eyes stinging just as I felt a warm damp cloth press against my inner thighs, wiping me clean.
I choked on the sob that wanted to escape me and the cloth paused for a split second before venturing on. I waited, wondering why he was doing this, why he was dragging it out.
Just leave already.
But then the cloth was pulling away again, and the bed was creaking again, and the tears, they wouldn’t stop. 
Stay. 
Please just stay.
I gasped into the pillowcase, stomach tensing with the strength to keep quiet. To let him leave quietly. 
I wouldn’t cry.
And then there was quiet, at least for a moment or two, before the bed dipped once more and there was a hand in my hair, combing the strands from out of my face and tucking them behind my ear.
When I opened my eyes, he was still there. Dressed and ready to go, but still sitting there beside me. Whilst I laid bare, curled up into a ball to better protect myself from his knowing gaze.
Suddenly everything hurt. Suddenly I felt exhausted and was falling apart at the seams.
Matty moved carefully, stretching toward the foot of the bed before returning with the sheet to cover me up, laying it gently over my trembling shoulders. He leaned in to press a slow kiss to my forehead and then went to move away again.
My hand caught his wrist.
And then I was flat out sobbing. Hysterical even. Crying into the pillow almost soundlessly as I gasped to try and catch my breath. Because I wanted him to stay. I needed him to stay.
Not just for me. But for Teddy. And for the life he brought into my dreary flat. To the kindness he never failed to gift me.
I needed him to stay.
I needed him.
I opened my mouth to ask, to let him know. But I could hardly even bear to look at him, blurred as he was through my onslaught of tears, Matty still held the key to all but destroying what little I had left.
His hand returned to my hair, fingers tangling themselves in it, a sudden contrast to the rough grip they’d held there earlier. And then he settled further onto the bed, back pressed against the headboard whilst he continued to run his fingers through my hair.
The tears still flowed but the sobs came less and less, until I was blinking at his shadowed figure in the dark, holding out hope that somehow he’d just know and he’d stay. 
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nervocat · 16 hours
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“Big Brother Sunday, What are you Thinking?” (cws: slight manipulation (only mentioned once), pretty major hsr 2.2 spoilers - wc: 340, platonic/angst, gn reader)
Sunday. He was an interesting man, one who people couldn't quite read — not even you or Robin, his younger siblings. He cared, sure, and was a great older brother, you just wondered what he thought.
Robin was away quite a bit, causing you to be with Sunday when he himself wasn't busy. You wandered the Dewlight Pavilion a lot when he was, not knowing what else to do.
You were young, about mid to late teens, yet Sunday still had some things over you. He had no ill will, you knew this, but you couldn't help but feel you were being manipulated in some way — lied to. You would be right.
Sunday, he who followed the “Order”. It was a shock, really. Robin and you wholeheartedly believed in the Harmony and you thought Sunday did too, but he had chosen a different path and went the wrong way about making a dreamscape for people to lose themselves in.
You couldn't help but not love him still though. He was your older brother, after all, and he never harmed you in any way. He took care of you and Robin, but was just led a stray.
“Big brother, what do you think about?” you'd ask him. He'd just laugh as he pats your head, ruffling it a bit with his usual smile adorning his lips. It always seemed softer around you and Robin and less forced (though that may just be you).
“They're thoughts for a reason, my dear sibling,” you smiled at him and playfully swatted his hand away, laughing with him.
And now you know what those thoughts were, but you wish you didn't.
You look at your brother, a frown on your face. Robin had already spoken to him, and you had decided you also wanted to talk with him before he went to the IPC for trial.
“Big brother Sunday, why?” the hurt in your voice stung Sunday a bit.
He didn't want his little siblings to see his thoughts like they did, but now they were out and about, so why not divulge you a bit?
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[ ★ notes: idk why I'm having sm motivation to write platonic stuff but I'm not complaining :33 writing platonic Sunday angst 🙏🙏 HOPING I GOT HIS CHARACTER RIGHT.. I LOVE IT SM I DON'T WANNA MISCHARACTERIZE HIM 😰😰 I got less and less proud of this (kinda) as I went but it's not my worst 👍👍 feedback for this one is welcomed :,)) ]
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★ — © nervocat || I appreciate any reblogs made, and pls don't repost or translate my works anywhere, ty — ✦
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whoiseduardito · 3 days
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Heeey so I've come to the sad realization that marvel has yet again made me simp over a character that is NEVER written for so, I was wondering if you would be willing to do a fluffy magneto fic.
Maybe where you are a new teacher a the school and had never me Erik and end up with a crush and he ends up finding out somehow. Idk sorry ik that was a long one.
I need something fluffy after these past episodes and Smut is fine with me but I'm not sure if your comfortable writing smut if not no big.
HEY! GET OUT OF MY WAY!
pairing: erik lehnsherrr (magneto) x reader warn: i love this type of fluff!!!!!!! a/n: my first req!! not proof read!!! horrible writing, rushed, you can tell i loved the sound of music trope.
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so maybe you have a type.
older guys who have the humor of a rock.
...maybe just the older xenotype- but that's not important, totally not. the issue is that, you're crushin'. you're crushin' hard.
maybe it is the face, maybe it is the hair, but something about erik lehnsherr pulls you in, like a magnet, ironically.
you were the new teacher at the 'xavier's school for gifted youngsters, it was a pleasant experience, the students were nice (until their mutations were triggered, but that's not their fault), the ambient was too, and the pay? you could pay your rent, and more!
for you, the 'no crushing on coworkers' was bullshit, a harmless crush can't do that bad, as long as it's harmless.
so you continued with your lecture, 'history of mutation', very cool, you had even made a presentation, and then a kahoot, pretty cool right?
"so, the history of mutations can date back to many years, such as the sixth century-"
the door opened, all of the heads turned, and the person stepped in, you turned away from the board you were writing, your eyes searching for the person.
it was your fucking crush, it was fucking magneto.
your face drained of all color, and his electric freezing blue eyes stared back.
"uhh-"
"-..this is a senior class, correct?" he walked around the class, his eyes cutting contact from your's
"...y-yeah totally" he stopped near a decoration with 'mini prom!" painted on it with photos of the students as younger kids.
"then why are decorations everywhere?" he stared at it "this is not kindergarden."
damn. "well?"
"i-i thought it would be good to make this a nice atmosphere for the students."
"the world is not an nice atmosphere for mutants, is it?"
the class was dead silent, no one dared to breathe, even lightly.
"i want this off the wall before the end of the day." he made his way out.
"why?" you whispered
he stopped "because i said so, miss l/n. now rip it off"
oh, your mood had soured
"i'm sorry magneto, sir, but the decorations stay." you said those words with all of the backbone you have
"i'm the headmaster. it goes off."
"i'm the homeroom teacher, it stays."
you were a teeny tiny scared but for your students you'd fight him without your mutation. he glared, his piercing glare stayed on you
"i'm sorry mister magneto but in here, i give the best ambient for my students."
his stare became harder, and then he blinked, sighing and walking away "...i'd like to see you in my office, right now."
you gulped loudly, you're pretty sure he heard.
he began walking away, a beat passed until you realised he wanted you to follow him, you began walking alongside him.
the way there was silent, but your head was running, this is it, this is what you get for standing up for your students, shit.
he opened the door, and let you in, murmured a 'take a seat'
"...i am not fond of people disobeying my commands."
"i am aware, mister magneto."
"just call me sir, mister magneto is ticking me off"
"sorry, sir" you quickly said, most of the backbone you had you used it on standing up to him, and now you were getting fired.
"just answer me this." you nodded, you complied "you are aware that in this school you're just needed to teach them, and just make sure they understand how the world works, not pamper them, not make them decorations."
"but-"
"are you aware?"
"yes, but-"
"then why are you pampering them?"
ouch
"i'm going to move you, transfer you if you will"
"what?"
"roulette, the mutation to be able to randomize whatever power you have seen either physically or by any media."
you're screwed
"your mutation, am i right?"
"sir-"
"you're going to work with me to make them control their mutation."
"...what?"
"you and me, are going to train them."
"uhm.... who?"
he sighed loudly, he surely had a small fuse "your students."
great! teaching with magneto.
"...you sure sir?"
"i am sure."
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breaking the news to your students was easy, making them behave so you don't look like a doof, was hard.
many classes had passed with mag- mister lehnsherr (he had told you to stop calling him 'magneto'), each day was hard but sometimes you picked at his stony personality, hoping that he would notice, sometimes you swear you saw him crack a small grin when you made a joke or had integration activities for your class, and your tiny crush had maybe turned into a bigger crush.
"teach'?"
"hm?" the voice of one of your students pulled you out of your meditation spot "what is it?"
"are you okay? you've been in this spot for the whole break."
"oh here? this is a great spot to think." it was a tree behind the mansion, in a secluded corner.
"mister magento is looking for you." they sat next to you beneath the tree
"why?" they shrugged
"maybe's cause he likes you" your head snapped to their direction
"...don't be silly" you tried to look away "he doesn't"
"really? 'cause i always hear his heart beating faster, when you do something or appear." their mutation was enhanced hearing, you blushed
"oh, stop lying." you snorted
"he does!" they jabbed you with their fingers to tease you "and you like him back!"
"shut up!" you laughed
"you do! you do!" they chuckled, suddenly they remained quiet and a smirk slowly was painted in their face "i'll leave you both alone" they walked away
"wha?-"
"miss l/n?"
oh shit.
"do you like me?" you turned your head slowly to face him.
"mister lehnsherr!-"
"please, call me erik." he chuckled, maybe the first time you saw his face in a smirk that isn't evil. "and how about a coffee to discuss about your teaching methods?"
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cloudmancy · 3 days
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I have no desire to get you in trouble but I would be curious to hear your thoughts on the new episode and the preview because I also have.. thoughts and I'm interested in what other people clocked as not great or kinda.. idk. other people's concerns, because I have had a lot of them and I never see people really talk about those things
they're doing a new format this season where they film a bunch of rp episodes in a row then take a break when there's a battle so the crew can get the battleset ready, so I understand the dissonance. but the tone of this episode from the tone of last episode was SO jarring. I was ready to chew drywall at the end of episode 17 but we head into the episode 18 fight and at the end all I can say is... damn! that sure is a battle that happened. the entire fight felt really low-stakes even though objectively a few of the bad kids were in mortal danger, but the mood at the table was so relaxed and chill and there was almost no roleplay at all... which drove me so crazy
>no rp except for fun silly party stuff (no callbacks to the adaine elven oracle in a storm thing? after all the fun setup last time??)
>fought 8 different antagonists and none of them said a word
>nobody questioned why or what oisin's grandma or all those dragon were doing there they just started taking them out one by one like raid battles in world of warcraft
>cassandra/nightmare king showed up only to not make any impact or get a single word in
>dos2 lady vengeance fight did the floating boat/ballistas/dragon fight better SMH
and then after all of that we're headed straight into ANOTHER battle episode judging by the preview... and it's against the rat grinders and porter/jace! let me out I want PLOT & DIALOGUE fhjy cannot end like this (5 hours straight of battle where they just kill everyone that moves). there's 2 eps left so I really hope they do the last ep as a 4 hour long roleplay only epilogue episode because as we've all seen ending campaigns on a battle leads to frankly really rushed character and world decisions. it's ultra disappointing too because I loved this entire season so much so far. the setup and buildup and plot points and mystery of fhjy is the best they've ever done it in dimension 20 period
ep 18 fhjy battle was a letdown to me... not giving the party an rp episode after 3 hours of loredump + going straight into a final battle without being able to interact with the world after gaining info is bad. they should've had a chance to process everything they learned about house sunstone, porter's plan, the rat grinders being used as ascension fodder, whatever the whole deal behind ambrosia and lucy frostkettle and why they needed a helios cleric in buddy IN ROLEPLAY. I don't want all this stuff explained to me after the battle by brennan or in some throwaway lines in the adventuring party - I want the bad kids to talk to people! I want them to investigate! I want fig to pull some BS with porter knowing the full extent of all his plans. it really sucks for us as an audience too to be hit with all this lore and get approximately 0 time for it to sink into the implications of how the worldbuilding was shaped by it or realizations of "ohhh that's why that happened at the beginning of the season" before we go straight into killing everyone.
with the way this is going I don't have any confidence they're gonna be able to actually empathize at all with the rat grinders too before they start lopping heads off because in battle episodes everyone kind of just. becomes numbers and an objective to take out except for pet favourite npcs of the cast. and they've mostly been interacting with the rat grinders as nuisances all season 😭 I'm PRAYING to be proven wrong and the last 2 episodes of this are fantastic but it's not looking good folks
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cupiidzbow · 16 hours
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OK SORRY I WAS THINKING ABOUT THINGS TOO HARD AGAIN here’s an expanded character relationship chart ( there’s placeholders and it’s still not done but here’s a general idea 😭😭) expanded ideas under the cut in case it’s hard to read 😭
- candy, dk , funky and freddie (all childhood friends, grew up together.)
candy + freddie: best friends through and through!! ( Freddie admires her confidence and skills and Candy appreciates his willingness to help his friends and soft heart , but “you gotta stand up for yourself more sweetie.” 😭.) roommates before things started getting serious between freddie and funky.
candy + dk: dated for a point in time but had a mutual breakup, still great friends regardless! ( dk is kinda into people who can kick his ass )
candy + funky: she had the hots for him for a while but he never showed any feelings back. ( she found out he was gay) “OH! Oh, yeah that check out.” she got over him after that. funky appreciates her, one of his closest friends!
freddie + dk: great friends! Freddie had feelings for him but never said anything abt it, thought it wasn’t going to work out so moved on. Dk didn’t realize he had feelings for him until he got with funky ( “why do i feel so jealous?” 🙁 ) figured out that Freddie use to like him at some point and started crying sobbing and throwing up when he realized he fumbled the bag.
funky + freddie: best friends! funky had a crush on freddie for YEARS. he was so down bad abt him and wanted to always make him feel loved and appreciated even if there was the possibility they would never get together. freddie was oblivious to his affections for a bit but started gaining feelings for funky as he noticed the way he treated him as they got older, they want eachother so bad it makes them look stupid. 🫶🏽
Dk + funky: best bros for life!!! funky never noticed any animosity between them and considers dk one of his best friends. dk thinks very highly of funky of course! but he couldn’t help but start getting extremely jealous of funky for getting with freddie after he realized his feelings for him too late. ( biting his fist till it bleeds) “CONGRATULATIONS. IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU…… 😁😁😁😁😁😁😁” ( he then proceeds to drive into traffic)
additional kong relationships!
- freddie + diddy: cousins!! diddy was raised with Freddie when he was born and he has a cool older cousin watching after him always!!! Freddie would kill and die for diddy. that’s his baby cousin 😢😢 when diddy found out funky liked Freddie he was like 🤨. (standing on 5 boxes ) break his heart I will get you. ( He won’t diddy don’t worry.)
dixie + diddy: best friends and first crushes! they’re like 14. watched her punch a guy in the face or something and he started having feelings for her. idk they’re cute 😭😭😭
Blondie (guard kong) + freddie - Freddie befriended him at some point and got to know him!! he’s very kind and he honestly thought he was kinda cute but he probably doesn’t feel that way back so I’m happy being his friend. ^-^ (Blondie in his head) I have loved you for a million lifetimes. He has the biggest crush on freddie but he is not much of a talker and way too shy to ever admit how he feels to him so he will take it to the grave.
( general best friend/ familial relationships between dk/diddy/cranky/dixie/candy/funky/tiny)
bluster + everyone: everyone wants to jump him. kremlings included.
kremling/kong dynamics
everyone can’t stand k. rool he’s literally a public menace.
cranky + k. rool: they had a lil gay thing going on in the 70s and they’re bitter exes now. cranky got over him, k. rool never got over it. “I will torture ur grandson and his friends to get back at you now.”
candy + kalypso- recongnized eachother from the barrel blast completions and were neutral abt eachother even tho they’re on opposite sides. they both ended up being kinda …. “ 😳😳😳” over eachother eventually
funky + kludge + freddie - funky only really saw him as an unserious rival in the barrel blast competitions. Freddie helped Candy during the challenges and never participated….. they both kind where like….. 🧐 hold awn he’s kinda….. Over kludge. kludge does not like the kongs at all so it is not at all reciprocated.
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dmbakura · 3 days
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I haven't been officially diagnosed with pmdd but I have my suspicions because holy fuck
so I take progesterone supplements and it's mostly helped my periods go from Hell to manageable, however every 4 or 5 cycles or so the pre menstrual depression comes back so fucking hard I don't even know what to do about it.
I don't really get "mood swings" it's more like I get this constant heavy depression and apathy. I don't mean I get sad or weepy, I mean I completely lose all emotion (usually except for rage) and I have this constant conviction that I will never be happy again and nothing will get better. I literally feel like I lose my entire personality during this time, like completely disconnected from everything. I had such a bad cycle this time I was having suicidal and self harm thoughts. it's genuinely crazy to me how I feel, and once this passes, it all just goes away and I don't know why I felt like that. right now I think I'm almost over it and the emotions have turned back on again and I feel almost back to normal but man, I haven't had such a bad spell like that in a long time. I don't even feel like myself.
and again, this is AFTER medication. before progesterone, this would be almost every cycle instead of every 4th or 5th. idk if I need to just up my dosage or what. I have an appointment with my doctor soon so maybe I'll figure something out then.
idk I'm just posting this cuz it doesn't seem normal, and I'm kind of tired of playing the raffle of "am I going to experience complete personality death or is it going to be a normal period this time"
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mysisters-bike · 2 days
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Idk if you've answered this before, but why do you think Eric and Dylan didn't end up killing more people that day? After exiting the library, they seemed to roam around aimlessly for half an hour, occasionally trying to get their shitty bombs to explode instead of targeting more students.
i think adrenaline has a lot to do with it. reality. in that moment, perhaps once the excitement has worn off, having to reconcile with the choices that you just made. that’s always been my thought. i also think they just…didn’t plan that far. it was never their original plan to even enter the school, they really thought they were going to bring the library down and go from there. so i think they got through the initial rush and started coming to terms with what had happened. they were probably also trying to hype themselves up to “end” the shooting, if you catch my drift. like, they couldn’t just exit the school and move on — they sealed the deal, you know? in a way, their wandering around almost feels like a symbolic purgatory.
ngl i’m laughing at “their shitty bombs,” because their bombs were really shitty. where’s my bomb mutual to come read this, i think u would like it
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I think my partner's egg is cracking 👀
Seriously I think my husband might be my wife, actually.
It's been a long-running theory of mine tbh
He always makes a comment about how 90% of the things he's into are also very Important to a lot of trans women (Evangelion, twin peaks, LoZ, to name just a few things)
He follows a lot of people on Twitter who end up being trans women and he tells me about every single one of them
The other day we were walking around target and I had to buy some clothes and some other fem maintenence stuff and he was commenting on how tedious it must be to transition mtf because not only do you have to deal with an annoying transition, everything is more expensive because the Pink Tax is very real
And last night he shaved his entire beard off (he's never done that before) and said it was hard to remove the stubble, I joked and said I could wax it for him and be said he honestly thought about it)
He's always kept his hair long (his hair is gorgeous and it's longer than mine is)
But when I asked him why he shaved his beard off he said "reasons." (Which usually means 'I have a reason and I'm not ready to talk about it yet.')
I'm kinda giddy with excitement but I'm also so so anxious. I've been telling him how cute he looks without the beard and I've been extra affectionate lately since he's been kinda depressed/distant.
My only concern is for his safety and mental health. Being a woman is hard and being a trans woman is so much harder. I just want to be supportive 😭
Part of me hopes I'm wrong, maybe hes just testing it out, transitions are a perilous journey and change is scary
but I've seen enough eggs cracking (literally almost all of my friends are trans/nb) to know the signs when I see them.
Anyway. Idk if I want advice. Maybe I do. Idk. I'm so anxious.
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bloodymiso · 1 day
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★ library gossip! anthony lockwood x gn!reader
in which you discuss the latest magazine gossip with the world’s best drama queen—apples at hand.
notes: idk how the farts i whipped this up faster than my haikyuu hcs but whatever🔥🔥. | warnings: granny apple haters dni/j
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imagine discussing the latest gossip with LOCKWOOD. his eyes were glued to his newly arrived gossip magazine as he took a bite of an apple, which he often forgets on the chair—something you noticed after sitting on a 2 day old rotten apple a few days ago.
you popped into the library, a book in hand. as you walked, you hit the shelf, too focused on your book to care. lockwood’s ears perked up and he tilted his head up to face you.
“woah, you okay there?” he chuckled. “anyhoo, did you know gina—yes, gina, got a divorce with her husband. crazy, right?” he said almost immediately after his last sentence, completely brushing off the past “topic” that he brought up. you listened in, closing your book, making sure you had the bookmark in the right place.
you couldnt help but be pretty well informed with whatever cock and bull lockwood read in his magazines, he talked about it all day, everyday. even on missions. ah, the mission on king’s road, you remembered it very clearly.
the type 2 visitor approached your figures, lockwood with his rapier up, doing his fancy wancy twirly wirly shit. it attacked and as it did so, you could see it’s features, rather clearly at that. his face was structured, his jawline rather clear, and his hair was pulled back neatly, like your average london rich kid—just ugly with half the flesh on his body burned off. both of you jumped out the way and as lockwood landed on the floor, you could practically see the lightbulb beside his head.
“merlin’s beard that guy is exactly how my magazine described the man martha had an affair with!”
“bloody hell lockwood, shut up!”
remembering that past mission, you chuckled, resting your arms on lockwood’s armchair(haha armchair for arms) , leaning on it. “why is everything about relationships and marriage in that magazine?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair. “your hair is so thin.” “come on lad don’t change the subject.” he rolled his eyes and continued.
“apparently, jeffrey—gina’s husband was having an affair with gerlie, the girl next door.”
“why is everyone having affairs?”
“dunno, adults are weird. anyway—oh do you want an apple?” he asked, grabbing a light green granny apple from his little basket. you nodded, relieving it from his hands, taking a bite.
your conversation lasted over an hour, and lockwood had devoured over 3 apples in that time period. if you were standing outside the door in that said hour like a weirdo(*cough* george*cough*) you would have heard laughter almost every 5 seconds.
his smile was so contagious, even a simple sneer caused your own lips to curve up in response. you loved moments like this, laughing your asses off over stupid stuff. you loved all the shits and giggles you and lockwood had.
you giggled as you looked through the pages, stopping at a picture of a couple—the man on the left weirdly resembling lockwood. you looked at him, and he looked at you. a cheeky smile rose to his face as you playfully slapped his cheek.
“are you thinking what im thinking?” he smirked, before he could continue the thought, you slapped him again.
“this is abuse! that could be us if you werent such a meanie.” he rolled his eyes like the drama queen he is, closing the magazine and crossing his arms. you chuckled, he was pouting.
“hey im not a meanie.” you pouted back, ruffling his hair. the smirk on lockwood’s lips never fading.
“guess thats us then.” he said, leaning back in his chair as he crossed his legs.
“i—nevermind, im a meanie.”
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(><) wanna support? reblog with tags pookie!!
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basu-shokikita · 23 days
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oatbugs · 5 months
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Jack Marsh (2005), Friendship Otherwise - Toward a Levinasian Description of Personal Friendship
#saw carnation lily lily rose by john singer seargent irl today. it was basically at my doorstep all along idk why i never went to see it#it was placed at a corner in the gallery. me and my friend sat down and sketched the paintings of beautiful naked people quite badly. paper#provided by tate britain. she told me about how she couldnt look her boyfriend in the face after a harrowing film about war. when i say the#interview was informal i mean the person who was supposed to be my boss told me let me get you a cider and then he said after#50 years of life he knows people are inherently good and it only takes a little bit of kindness to save this world. he said he tricked#his wife into keeping the baby and then he said he quit his job at a US bank to help people find meaning and in it#he would have liked to find meaning. instead he started climbing with his friends. he said he chews his cigarettes because its a habit from#when he had to hide things from people. the entire time i felt uncomfortable and incredibly enlightened. this is my friends mentor. she has#his pattern of pauses and expletive and penchant for ends-justify-means attitude. i do think im not very clever#but maybe one day i will love you enough to make up for it. i wrote code i dont understand staring at the final error i thought about how#we both thought of how when we're too old to remember the voices of our friends we would like to stand in the pathway of the LHC beam pipe#cut it open and eat light in the freezing cold vacuum (kills you long before radiation will) the invisible puncture wound unfolding dna#back to the start larger than you ever were. you go to heaven once youve been to hell. my friend is in my bed#practicing calculations of eigenvectors by hand and she is uninterested in a visual proof you are uninterested in incompetence#we catch a train this is your kind of burden you tragic hero wincing at that word you only do this because you have to. im the only one#who can. i am a coward in this for the fucking poetry. the visual proofs. the pretty numbers. an architect who was horrible at maths wanted#to be a philosopher and accidentally ended up neck in deep in 70th Error On Visual Studio Code i want to kiss your eyes before we say#goodbye we both know there is no love in the way there should be. I still have your dress in my wardrobe. i hope you make art.#you think im alright head-wise i think you fucking hate me i think ill never be so clever you want me to tell you my idea?#if you wanted more of this world i would have liked to kiss you harder. we cant both be like this. im sorry i cant be with you the whole wa#the love is gone if you have to ask it. his breath catches his eyes feel stiff it is -1.9 kelvin he is near the beam pipe i miss holding#his hand i miss her singing voice i miss his hair and i found the antonym of pain thank you for carrying me home.
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solitarelee · 1 year
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BEAR WITNESS TO THE UNDERWHELMING FRUITS OF MY JEWISH LABORS
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THIS TOOK ME ALMOST TWO HOURS. WHY YOU ASK. Because I made everything from scratch. It was my first time making unleavened bread (easier than I thought) and baba ghanouj (exactly as difficult as I thought). It wasn't my first time cutting up a massive side of salmon, though. If you're wondering if I overcooked it; yeah sorry. ;-; I was cooking so many things simultaneously.
ANYWAY CHAG FUCKING SAMEACH THIS IS THE PASSOVER I DON'T STARVE!!!! THIS IS THE PASSOVER I HAVE MONEY FOR FOOD I CAN EAT!
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