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#listen... its merry time
obligatorytropeinsert · 3 months
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working customer service during the holidays means every so often people will do something I like to call the Christmas test.
Random asshole: Merry Christmas (stares you down like their life literally depends on you reciprocating their faith)
Me: Hold on-ah fuck-gimme a sec-what day is it...
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custer-mp3 · 2 years
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#wild how hearing fear innoculum in 2022 feels exactly like hearing undertow in 2004#through secondhand exposure; through my best friend's older sister's bedroom door through seniors' cars in the parking lot through the#headphones snuck up my eventually-&-now-ex gf's sleeve two seats behind me in freshman algebra#nothing i sought nothing i craved nothing that made any sort of sense just this wall of droning confusey samey sound#fear innoculum in 2022 is like being punched repeatedly right in the gland in my brain that sends up beacons of my own sense-memory legacy#i remember the layout of every classroom i've ever sat in & every arrangement of my best friend's older sister's bedroom & even the trails#cut in their back forty#the trails behind lion's park the bottles in carrie's pig barn. every iteration of the two rummage stores in my hometown&what i stole there#i know i'm only in my thirties & every day is the closest to those memories as i'm ever gonna be again but it's just amazing#how directly something i don't even particularly care about is just slamming its hands on the buttom that makes me feel things#it's all i've listened to for four days cuz i'm like a kid on the merry-go-round AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN. the unshakeable urge#to keep feeling things#it felt like october when i stepped outside today & it caught me so off guard i almost burst into tears i could not comprehend it in my#already tenuous emotional state#begging the weather AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN cuz i won't have time to myself til tuesday but thursday would be better and i want to experience#today but today-today i was trapped in the mall all day watching locals shoplift crappy ashtrays & i wasted it#and the kicker is it wasn't even my fault
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sanzuphobe · 2 years
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also also sometimes people just dont care about what you have to say and yall need to find a way to deal with that. its not immoral for someone to not care about what you have to say
#especially in that post yall are making it painfully clear that you dont care about what these supposed NTs have to say.#sure it may hurt your feelings if someone doesnt care about what you have to say#but its very human and natural to not care about everything everyone has to say. you literally cant care about everything lmao#sometimes you bore people. sometimes you say stuff they dont care about. shit happens.#ive been doing a lot of research about like hair care and stuff like that and when my friend was complaining about her hair#i was ready to info dump for a full 20 minutes and recommend 20 different things and tell her all this stuff about silicones and sulfates#and what the fuck else#but i saw the light in her eyes dying and i was like hey. do you want t know this? if i tell you how to fix it will you do it#or do you just wanna vent and continue on your merry way#and she was like no actually i wont listen.#and thats fine! because when i talk to my friends i want us BOTH to enjoy the experience!#and just to be clear my friends absolutely would and have let me infodump and monologue and speech for half an hour at a time#but they do that to humour me. it doesnt necessarily enrich anything for them.#and when i talk to my friends i want us both to enjoy the conversation#and i feel like thats something aa lot of the ppl in that post are missing#it honestly looks like a lot of yall only look to serve yourselves in your friendships#also when i say yall i mean rhetorical you not anyone that woould actually read thi lol#nf#personal
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thatone-highlighter · 5 months
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Old Money Bitch & Johnny Johnny Johnny by Underscores and You’re Not a real musician & Honeymoon Phase Limerence by Vylet Pony for the music rec ask game?
aight bestie only like a week late dw about it
Old Money Bitch; it's okay | not something i would really seek out intentionally but but if it came on i wouldnt desperately go skip it
Johnny Johnny Johnny; not my thing | not bad either just again not really my sorta thing just couldnt properlly get into it
You’re Not a real musician; not my thing | gonna be totally honest i nearly skipped it because the entire first minute is instrumental (not big fan of instrumental music Most the time)
Honeymoon Phase Limerence; its okay | kinda going back and forth on okay and not my thing i did like the beginning of it but i lost interest as it went further in sorry
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mydearlybeloathed · 2 months
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𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you just can't get to sleep thanks to a terrible rainstorm terrorizing the ship. luckily, your tossing and turning inspired nami with an idea: just go sleep with the swordsman.
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: roronoa zoro x fem!reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1k
don' ask about the aesthetic k? k 💙
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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With how the hail storm rattled against the hull of the ship, and how the vessel careened on the waves, you were at a loss as to how Nami was fast asleep already.
The crew had settled down for sleep hours ago, the laughter and teasing from dinner falling into a soft silence draping over each and every one of you—well, except you, that is.
Even after months at sea, the incessant rocking had you curling into yourself, headache blooming under the skin of your temples. Groaning, you rolled around on your sheets, burying your face in your pillow as you shoved the blanket off your shoulders and down your body. Chill air hit you instantly, a contrast to the sweat rising from your skin. All you wanted was sleep, but your ears rang with the sound of rainfall and the far off thunder rumbling through the sky.
You tossed and turned again and again, rest ever so far away and the sway of the Going Merry making kept your mind alert with all its tilts and jumps. Yet another grunt of frustration huffed from your lips, and Nami finally sprang up, glaring at you from across the cabin.
“What’s wrong?” she demanded, her eyes heavy and her annoyance high.
Great. Now Nami was upset, which usually lasted a whole day if you were unlucky. You didn’t bother turning back to look at her, digging yourself deeper into your blanket. “Sorry…”
She sighed and rubbed at her cheek, gaze drifting over your exhausted form, taking in what she could in the dark. Settling back down, Nami said what she’d been thinking for the past two hours of listening to you loll around restlessly. “Just go sleep with Zoro.”
A beat passed, your eyes slowly opening as you tried to convince yourself you’d heard her wrong. You flipped around and gaped at the girl slinking into her sheets with a smirk you would catch through any dark room. “What? Why would I—Why would you—Nami!”
She chuckled darkly, her bright eyes finding yours. Nami propped her head up on her hand. “It wouldn’t be the first time, right?”
Trying and failing to make a comeback, you opened and closed your mouth like a gaping fish, settling on crossing your arms over your chest. “That’s none of your business.”
“Uh-huh,” she drawled. “But I’ve got dawn watch and am in desperate need of sleep.” All you did was stare at her, your glare fading. Nami rolled onto her back, offering into the silence, “It’s not like he’ll turn you away.”
You tried so very hard to let her logic roll off your shoulders, but it was cold (Zoro was warm) and you were tired (Zoro was a good napping buddy). As appealing as the idea was, you didn’t want to bother him. Zoro was probably just getting back from his night watch, Sanji heading up to the deck in his wake. Zoro wouldn’t turn you away, but he might grumble at you, and sometimes that was worse.
“Stop overthinking,” Nami’s voice whispered through a hiss. “He likes you.”
She was just trying to give you heart palpitations saying stuff like that. “Does not.”
“Mhmm. Get some sleep… with Zoro.”
You threw your pillow across the room, missing her bed by a longshot. You could throw pillows and shout whispered words at her all you wanted—it didn’t change that she had a point.
It wouldn’t be the first time you crawled into Zoro’s hammock late at night, seeking shelter from sleeplessness that seemed to miraculously melt in his embrace. Nami might’ve been right; Zoro might like you, at least more than he liked anybody else. It was confusing most days, but your mind was so mushy with fatigue you didn’t bother running over the finer details of your affections for the swordsman.
You puffed out a huff, eliciting a growl from the dark, “Go. Or neither of us will sleep.”
“Fine.” You threw off your blanket and marched out of the cabin before you could lose your nerve, trudging through the nearly pitch black hall of the Merry. 
You yelped as you tripped over a discarded broom, cursing into the night as you kicked it aside and kept on toward the boy’s cabin. As soon as you laid eyes on the closed door, your footsteps faltered, heart stuttering. 
The ship leaned on the waves and sent you teetering into the wall, and the decision was suddenly easy. You inched the door open gently, wincing at the momentary creak, and slipped inside. 
The boys’ cabin always had a… unique scent to it. Somewhere between burning socks and musk is how Nami described it. Honestly (now, you would never tell her this), you just thought it smelled like Zoro. Though Zoro might’ve been slightly less odorous on good days, you mused.
The swordsman of your infatuation lay in a swaying hammock tied up between two support beams holding up the ceiling. A flash of lightning illuminated his peaceful face for a brief moment, and the room was back to black. 
Collecting your wits, you approached him slowly, careful not to step on any of the clutters the boys left lying about. Lip pinched between your teeth, you stepped around a crate of slingshot ammo Usopp had crafted, catching your foot on the slingshot itself and jumping out of the way. 
You swept the room fretfully, yet no one stirred, the usual snores rising and falling. A sigh puffed form your chest as you turned back to Zoro’s hammock, only to lock eyes with the stoic swordsman as he gazed blearily up at you.
Lurching back, you calmed your racing heart and huffed at him. “You scared me.”
Zoro leaned up on his elbows, confused. “You scared me.” His gaze flickered all over your face. “What’re you doing?”
You fisted your hands, feeling like a deer at headlights, and blurted, “Nami kicked me out.”
Zoro’s brows drew instantly. “What?” He rose halfway when you hand found his chest, gently pushing him back down.
“I mean,” you amended. “I couldn’t sleep, and she got tired of me rolling around…” Bashful in how you averted your eyes, swaying on your feet, “I… sleep better with you. Y’know?”
Not even a second later he tugged on your arm to draw you closer, shuffling over to offer you some room. You smiled softly, falling into the space beside him, molding right into his side. “Yeah, I know.”
Your face warmed, your heart swelled, and you rested your head on the rigid outline of his shoulder, adjusting to find a comfortable place. Zoro’s arm slid under you and curled you further into his side, a sigh pulling from his chest, his muscles literally relaxing under each of your touches. 
There wasn’t a name for what you and Zoro were, not yet anyway, and somehow you were fine with that. He was there, and you were there, and that felt like enough. For now, you let your eyes finally give way to exhaustion, the pelting of the rain growing fainter and fainter. 
Nami was a tease, but she made some good points a lot of the time. You’d have to thank her in the morning, after you finally got to sleep in the arms of your swordsman.
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Hi! So I just had this idea while listening to the song Mistletoe by Justin Bieber.
Imagine being on set for tbosas during Christmas time and someone from the crew or cast (like Rachel and Josh) put up Mistletoe’s here and there and then discreetly, but very much on purpose, got you and Tom to walk under them to film your reaction to it and take a few pictures!
Mistletoe || Tom Blyth x actress!reader
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A/n: Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it!!!!!! Hope u enjoy this cute lil fic :)
Warnings: noneeee
Wc: 654
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Divider by @pommecita
As you stepped into the set where you would come filming for the day—Tom trailing behind you—a festive atmosphere filled the air. The set was adorned with twinkling lights, and the crew members were dressed up in festive clothes.
Set seemed to radiate happiness, and the air buzzed with the delightful energy of people in high spirits. It was your first time filming a project during Christmas so it was both exciting and new to you.
You spot Josh and Rachel wearing Santa hats, exchanging cheerful greetings with the crew. “Everyone’s in the spirit,” You chuckle as Tom comes up behind you, slotting his arm around your shoulder as you wave to people.
“Mhm, couldn’t agree more- Is that Viola in a grinch costume-“ Tom couldn’t even finish his sentence before the two of you start bursting out in laughter at the sight. You pull Tom with you as you walk towards her.
“Oh my god, this is amazing,” You squeal, whipping out your phone as you snap pictures with her as you could hear her laughter from inside the suit. You and Tom posed with Viola as you make a mental note to post a christmas on set dump on your insta.
As you and Tom continue your way through the set, you noticed mistletoe strategically placed here and there. The mischievous glint in the crew’s eyes hinted at a playful plan. You couldn’t help but smile, wondering what surprises awaited.
After filming a few scenes here and there, you and Tom sat on one of the chairs that were littered around the set. Your legs were ontop of Tom’s as you both laugh at a tiktok that you were showing him.
Suddenly, Rachel approached with a mischievous grin, her phone in her hands pointed directly at you. “Oh, would you look at that? Mistletoe!” she exclaimed, pointing above your head as both you and Tom look up, catching Josh holding a mistletoe above the two of you with a grin matching his girlfriend.
The crew members nearby chuckled, and Josh chimed in, “Guess tradition says you two have to share a Christmas kiss under the mistletoe!” He makes obnoxious kissing sounds as you cover your face in slight embarrassment, only peeking through your fingers to see Rachel’s phone still pointing at you.
You exchanged amused glances with Tom, both of you caught off guard but playing along. “Well, I suppose we shouldn’t break tradition,” Tom said with a wink, his British accent adding a touch of charm.
Under the mistletoe, surrounded by people you considered your family, you and your boyfriend shared a lighthearted, staged kiss, eliciting cheers and whistles from the crew. Cameras clicked, capturing the festive moment that would undoubtedly make its way into the behind-the-scenes footage.
As you pulled away, Rachel couldn’t resist teasing, “Ah, the magic of Christmas on set!” Tom chuckled, “Who knew mistletoe would find its way into the Hunger Games universe?”
The crew continued their work, but the festive spirit lingered. Throughout the day, more mistletoe moments were orchestrated with different cast members, each adding a touch of holiday cheer to the set which was amusing for fans to watch.
During a break, you found yourself by the craft services table, sipping on hot chocolate . Tom joined you, a playful glint still in his eyes. “I never thought I’d be kissing you under a mistletoe in the Capitol, of all places,” You laugh, nudging him as he fixes himself a hot chocolate.
~
“So, tell us, what was your favorite memory from filming during the Christmas season?” The interviewer, a charismatic woman with a warm smile, set the tone for the conversation.
Tom leaned forward with a twinkle in his eye, “Oh, that’s an easy one. Viola Davis in a Grinch costume. Nothing beats that sight on a festive set.” Laughter rippled through the room, and the interviewer joined in. “Viola Davis as the Grinch? That’s something we need to see!”
A few pictures appeared on the screen behind you and Tom, capturing the hilarious moment of Viola Davis fully embracing the holiday spirit as the Grinch. The audience erupted into laughter again, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the vivid memory.
As the laughter subsided, the interviewer turned to you, “And you Y/n? Any standout moments from the Christmas filming?” You smiled, recalling the unexpected joy that filled the set. “Well, Tom and I had a rather unexpected encounter with a mistletoe. I think everyone knows what I’m talking about right?” You look to the crowd who all agree.
The screen shifted to a video clip, capturing the behind-the-scenes moment when Josh and Rachel orchestrated the mistletoe surprise. You and Tom, caught off guard, shared a playful kiss under the strategically placed mistletoe, eliciting cheers and applause from the crew.
“There it is,” you said, gesturing to the screen. “That was our impromptu mistletoe moment. Josh and Rachel ensured we got into the holiday spirit, Capitol style, obviously” You give a wink, giggling at the sight of you and Tom in full capitol glamour.
Tom grinned, “It was a festive surprise, to say the least. But it made for a memorable Christmas on set,” The audience enjoyed the wholesome clip, and the interviewer couldn’t help but smile before they wrapped up the interview.
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luna0713hunter · 6 months
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Late night talk
Zoro Roronoa x reader
Summary : late night at Going Merry always makes you feel lonely. Fortunately,your new friend and crew mate is there to keep you company.
Warnings : slightly suggestive (?), mutual pinning and kissing!
*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘
Nights at Going Merry,are hard to spend alone.
The feeling of gentle waves hitting the wooden surface,the cool breeze giving you a slight shiver as you lean against the railing and rest your head on your folded arms;makes you feel slightly lonely.
Maybe its because you've just recently joined the StrawHats crew;away from your hometown where you spent all your life in. You loved your family and friends,but you just couldn't let this opportunity slide. Not when Luffy extended his hand to you,and treated you like family, like someone who was talented and worth giving a chance.
And you wouldn't let go of that hand. No.
So you joined the StrawHats,in hopes of finding your own meaning of life, and help Luffy and everyone else to the journey of One Piece.
But still, everything was fairly new to you. Spending all your time on a ship with nothing but deep blue around you,with the company of people you just recently met;your captain a sweet guy,but kinda loud. Ussop the same as Luffy. Nami a great girl, but you were kinda shy around her. The new cook,Sanji,the sweetest guy but he was always busy in the kitchen where you didnt even dare to step a foot in. And your last Crew mate-
"what're you doing up so late?"
Zoro Roronoa
The guy you've been tiptoeing around since the very first second you laid your eyes on him. To say you had a crush was an understatement;you were hopelessly in love with the swordsman.
You give him a sheepish smile as you try to look anywhere expect his eyes.
"i- uh, couldn't sleep?"
Zoro merely stares at you before slowly making his way towards where you're standing. There's a bottle of wine in his hand as he adjusts his three swords on his hip and leans against the railing as well. He raises the bottle to his lips and glances at you from the corner of his eye.
"you want some?"
When you shake your head,he only shrugs.
"more for me."
he starts drinking,and you watch as his Adam's apple bob,you immediately look the other way when your heartbeat rises.
There was a damn reason as why you kept avoiding being alone with Zoro in the first place.
You couldn't keep the heat from spreading across your cheeks and neck;and your heart seemingly beating out of your chest.
it was no secret that Zoro wasnt a huge fan of talking either. The number of time where you managed to hold a conversation with the guy without him dozing off, barely reached five fingers. And your massive crush didn't help.
So you just stood there silently, listening to the sound of the ocean and Zoro downing the bottle of wine. The silence was so uncomfortable,you could feel the awkwardness in the air.
You just prayed to gods that Zoro would start a conversation.
"so,what kept you awake tonight?"
And gods seem to have nothing better to do tonight.
You dangle your arm from the side of the ship; watching as small droplets of water slightly soaking your fingers.
"i guess...i just miss my hometown."
At that,Zoro raises a neatly trimmed eyebrow ,and again,offers you the almost empty bottle of wine. At that,you let out a small giggle,cheeks flushing because he looks absolutely adorable.
"i dont wanna drink!"
"But you said you miss your hometown. That sounds like a good enough reason for a drink to me."
You merely shrug and grin at him
"guess im not as alcoholic as you are,oh the greatest swordsman alive."
Zoro rolls his eyes at you,and empties the rest of the wine before throwing the bottle in the ocean. You watch as it vanishes in the dark night,before a faint SPLASH is heard when it hits the water down below.
"Sanji's gonna be mad at you. You know he hates throwing trash in the ocean."
"you have any more trash on you then?"
And you laugh, carefree and happy. For a moment there,you seem to forget how lonely you felt not too long ago.
Because thats how Zoro was;he was a quiet man,but had the biggest heart you knew. He would always stay at the corner,but never once taking his eyes off of his friends.
And you were so damn lucky to have him by your side.
You gently bump your shoulder to his; slowly moving closer to his side.
"so why were you awake?"
He spares you a glance before look at another side.
"no reason."
"Zoro, c'mon. You take every chance you get to take a nap. You cant be awake for no reason."
You hear him huff annoyingly at you;the sound making you grin winder. And you do the best thing you know:
Annoy the shit out of him
You start with poking his bicep;trying not to drool at the way his muscles tense under your touch,before moving up to his cheek and increase the speek of your poking.
But you could only go for long,before suddenly Zoro's grabbing at your wrist,and with a smooth move pulls you toward him.
Where your faces are inches away,and you can feel his breath fanning on your skin
You swallow loudly, trying to pull back and put some distance between yourselves,but he holds on tight;not too tight to hurt,but enough to keep you in your place. He moves his face impossibly closer,and his warm lips brush against your heated cheeks.
"you dont wanna mess with me," he murmurs;his voice raw with something you can't put a finger on, "I'm a dangerous guy."
Maybe its the adrenaline in your veins,or maybe its because its late at night and nights always made you bolder. So you turn your head slightly so your nose in brushing against his cheekbone,and catch his eyes.
"and what if i like to play with danger?"
Zoro lets out a low chuckle;his eyes shifting to your lips and his hand slowly resting on your hip
"Then dont say i didnt warn ya."
And then his lips are on yours.
Your eyes flutter shut as he pulls you close;your hands finding their ways to his hard chest,and then around his neck to pull him in. Zoro lets out a groan,and his hold on you tightens more.
With one hand resting on your hip and the other traveling up and down your spine,he pulls away to let you breath for only a second before diving back in.
Because Zoro was always drunk,but your lips might be his favorite thing to get drunk on from now on
You dont know how much time has passes before you pull away;both of you panting heavily and Zoro places small kisses on your cheeks and temples.
"you didnt answer the question, y'know."
You feel him pause against your skin and you grin.
"what question?"
"why were you awake?"
Zoro groans but when you tug at his hair,he just hides his face in your neck and when he speaks next,you feel his lips touching your sensitive skin.
"saw you space out alot at dinner and then you didnt go to sleep. Didnt want to leave ya alone."
With the confession,your heart flutters and butterflies fill your stomach. You card your fingers through his green locks and move his face so you can plant a loving kiss on his lips.
"thank you,Zoro."
"the pleasure is all mine."
And when he kisses you next,its filled with laughter and happiness.
Nights at Going Merry,are hard to spend alone.
But when you kiss Zoro until the sunrise,you cant help but wish for it to last longer.
If it meant to spend it with your love, you'll gladly wait for skies to turn dark.
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mixsethaddams · 11 months
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Eddie and Steve were sitting on the back porch of the little two bedroom house that Owens and his merry band of government lackies gave to the Munsons in exchange for signed NDAs.
It was getting late and Steve knows he should go home, but Eddie keeps finding new conversations to strike up and it just feels too natural to keep responding. Getting up and announcing he was going home would be downright rude. The deckchair he was lounging in was confortable too, so it just made more sense to stay.
Eddie passed Steve the joint they had been nursing between them. Steve had lost track of what they were talking about a long time ago. He was too caught up in the low rumble of Eddie’s voice, quiet enough to make it feel like they were sharing secrets even if they were all alone with nothing scandalous to say. It didn’t matter what Eddie was saying. Steve was happy to just listen. The subtle fizz of the weed spread across his skin as he leaned his head back and enjoyed the light breeze that cut through the warm night.
Today was the same as every other day.
Steve woke up, showered, picked Robin up for work, and then spent eight hours rewinding tapes. He listened to her go on and on about her latest discovery of why Vickie was the perfect person, adding commentary where needed. Steve was happy for her, he was. He just wished she wasn’t so distracted. Not today.
And then he ferried Mike to Dustin’s, Will to the hospital to visit Max, brought Lucas home from the hospital so he could shower and then right back over again. He was barely through the door when Eddie called and asked how his day was, insisting Steve come over to hang out when he heard it was just ‘fine, average, nothing special’.
Steve had wanted nothing more than to fall asleep on the couch with a terrible tv movie in the background. There was something about Eddie, though. Something in the way he moved, the way he said Steve’s name and dragged his teeth along his bottom lip over the V sound. The thoughts of staring at the stars with Eddie might just be the one thing that could redeem today. Even if no one else would understand.
Steve arrived thirty seconds before two large pizzas, courtesy of one of Argyle’s buddies in the business. They each had all Steve’s favourite toppings. Which was weird because Eddie definitely didn’t like olives or pineapple. Steve had a cold beer in one hand and hot slice in the other before he even said ‘hello’.
If there was any way Steve wanted to spend the final hours of today, it was with Eddie. He knew why, of course. He bit his tongue every time he got close to saying it out loud, but he knew exactly what that something was.
“And I figured hey, if it means I don’t have to sell weed to highschoolers anymore, then why not, you know?”
Steve’s brain took a second to catch up to Eddie’s train of thought about his new job. He was going to be working in a garage with Reefer Rick’s nephew.
“Totally,” said Steve, sipping the mostly empty bottle in his hand, the liquid warmed by being held so long. “I bet you’ll be great at it too,”
“Yeah well,” said Eddie, quirking his eyebrows. “I hope so,”
They fell into silence again and Steve started to think it might not be rude to leave any more. The joint was down to the nub, the beer was gone, and Eddie’s eyelids were looking heavy.
“I should, uh…” said Steve, shifting his weight on the chair to stand up.
“Why didn’t you tell them?” asked Eddie, looking up at the moon. Steve could see its reflection in his eyes.
Steve stopped.
“Tell who?” he asked. “Tell them what?”
Eddie sighed.
“It’s your birthday, man…” breathed Eddie. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“Oh…” said Steve. He could feel his face heat up. “I don’t… I guess its not a big deal for me… Not for years…”
Eddie nodded solemnly.
“You’re too good for us, Harrington,” said Eddie, shaking his head. “I saw what you did for Robin’s birthday. Did she remember, at least?”
Steve didn’t say anything. He knew he’d probably get a frantic apology and a card tomorrow. It wasn’t like he was going to hold it against her.
“Pizza and beer isn’t exactly the five star treatment you deserve,” said Eddie. “Hope it’s enough to, you know, make today not suck entirely,”
Eddie waved his hand around in a circle, as if gesturing to the very day itself.
“This actually might be the best end to a birthday I’ve ever had,” admitted Steve. “So, you know, thanks. For doing this for me, I mean,”
“Thanks for eating all the olives,” joked Eddie, draining his beer bottle. “Besides, any excuse to hang out with you, I’ll take it,”
“Yeah?” asked Steve, his voice smaller than he expected.
“Yeah,” answered Eddie gently. “I like being with you,”
Steve’s stomach lurched. He followed Eddie’s gaze to the moon. She was beautiful tonight and Steve felt safe the cool glow she cast over them.
“How did you know?” asked Steve, playing with the hem of his sweater. “Or like, care?”
“Saw it on your license a whole back,” Eddie answered, lighting two cigarettes at once and handing one to Steve. “And I cared because… Because I care. I didn’t want you to be sad on your birthday,”
“Oh,” said Steve meekly. “I’m not sad. Not now. I’m happy now, so it worked,”
Steve took the offering of the cigarette and sat back in his chair, looking at his hand and the subtle hint of ‘don’t go’.
“Did you have a birthday wish?” asked Eddie, holding up the still-lit match. It was burning quickly down towards his fingertips.
“Just one…” said Steve slowly, looking through the flame at Eddie.
“A person?” asked Eddie.
Steve gulped, and nodded.
“So make it,” Eddie said. “Don’t tell me, or it won’t come true,”
Steve blew out the flame, still gazing into brown eyes, watching them turn black when the light was gone.
Eddie’s watch beeped. It was midnight.
“Didn’t come true,” said Steve sadly, his eyes still fixed on the point where Eddie had been holding the match between them.
“Give it time…” said Eddie softly.
Steve took a long drag of his cigarette and wondered if this is what every night would be like. If his wish came true and he got exactly what he wanted, would he sit out here and smoke and stare at the stars and listen to Eddie talk every night? Was he allowed to have that?
“I wished for the person that makes me happy,” said Steve, not looking over at Eddie but feeling bolstered by weed and boldened by beer.
“It won’t come true now,” teased Eddie, his voice low.
“Even if I tell them?” asked Steve, turning to look at Eddie. He looked into Eddie’s eyes again and thought of all the things he wanted to say. He felt something shift between them when Eddie didn’t look away.
“I made a wish on my birthday too,” said Eddie. “That didn’t come true either,”
“What did you wish for?” asked Steve.
Eddie’s arm flopped between their chairs, his cigarette burning steadily between his fingers.
“To make someone happy,” he said.
“Like…” whispered Steve.
Steve slowly moved his hand so it brushed against Eddie’s, the backs of their fingers rubbing together. Steve hooked Eddie’s pinkie with his own. Eddie looked at their hands and smiled gently.
“Yeah,” said Eddie quietly.
Steve hummed.
“Guess I just needed to wish for it too,” said Steve.
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swe3tte4rs · 3 months
Note
Batifamily headcanons feeling jealous about their siblings spending more time with Batmom? Or something like that, however you like to write it 🙊
" Jealousy jealousy " - Batmom!Reader x Batkids
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Author's note: MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR (late)!!! Love this 🫶. And I feel like this request is VERY my AU!!! Dah, who wouldn't compete for the love of their sweet and loving mother!? (The hatred between them began when Bruce had to set schedules for each one so they wouldn't fight for Batmom's attention... joke)
Also I am very sad, because when I was responding to this kind of request and I saved it as a draft, it was deleted 😭!!! CRYING 💔💔!!! On top of that, I loved the request, it was beautiful 😭! It was about Batmom as Bruce's couple and Bruce introduces Batmom to the batkids... And if it was you who sent it 🫵, let me tell you that I loved it and it will take me a while to upload it 💓!! Lov you all
And (I almost forgot to mention this), This AU of the batfamily is a mix of comics, series, headcanons (I LOVE headcanons of batfamily 💗), video games, movies and webtoon! + My main language is not English, so if you find any spelling mistakes, tell me in a comment!
Request opens 💗💗!!! BUT, before you request anything check my rules.
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Dick Grayson / Nightwing
Honestly, I don't see him being jealous of his brothers at all! But since I haven't read all of his comics and in this AU he is a mix, I don't have an opinion. 👀
Let us begin.
I feel like Dick is a real mama's boy, he love his mom and he will prove it.
Dick is very used to having all of Batmom's attention to himself.
But he hides his jealousy very well, or so he thinks…
Jealousy began when Dick started having siblings. DON'T DENY ME GIRL 🤝🤝!!!
When he gets jealous that you spend more time with, I don't know, he'll go to sleep with you and Bruce, but leaving Bruce aside and enjoying your caresses in his hair while he listens to his siblings complain from outside the bedroom. (Bruce hate this, but I feel that at the same time he love it just a little bit. Very little.)
Possibly he will also rub things you did with him that you didn't do with your other children in his siblings' faces.
I think he is the only one (along with Jason) who has a complete album with photos of him as a child. So he'll show it off to others by saying that you loved him so much that you made an entire photo album of him.
He would do the same with Jason, telling him that his album has more photos and with more photos of you and Dick.
I feel like he would start a whole fight against one of his brothers just to carry all the shopping bags by himself so you don't do it. (This idea is similar to "Jason Todd is a total mama's boy" because I was inspired by it, so credit to its respective author 💓)
"Mommy, did you just call me Damian? Oh my god... my heart..." #atotaldramaqueenbaby💋💋👊👊
Jason Todd / Red Hood
Another drama queen...
A mama's boy from head to toe. (My poor baby just needed a fucking mother figure 😭💔)
He is first in everything. Do you need help opening a jar? He already opened it for you and said I love you and then left and returned to a mission.
But that's not what we're talking about right now... Nonono, we're talking about jealousy, guys...
I bet he's the most sensitive of all.
He makes sure you don't show favoritism to anyone, unless it's him, if so he lets it go.
Did you spend an extra minute with one of your other children because you didn't see the time? He is already burning in a pit of jealousy.
I feel like he would start fighting with his sibling and then he would apply the law of silence to you. But it doesn't last long because he can't resist your cute nicknames and your "you're my favorite" (you say that to each of your babies)
"Why do you call him "son"? He isn't even your son!" And he gives you a whole long speech when you were just trying to be nice to Roy.
He even gets jealous of Bruce.
He doesn't care if it's one of his sisters or a good friend of his, you can't call them cute nicknames! And even less if they are the ones you use with him!
He has good hearing, he makes sure that you call him by his nicknames and not by one of his siblings' nicknames.
"WHAT THE FUCK, MA?! Why are you washing Tim's hair with the shampoo you use with me!?!?" You broke him...
Tim Drake / Red Robin
( I haven't read almost anything by Tim, so forgive me if something doesn't add up, but I promise you that I already have more or less what his personality is like.)
Tim does not admit his jealousy, he is calmer compared to his brothers.
He might start scheduling his patrols to coincide with Batmom’s free time, ensuring that he gets to spend some time with her.
I feel like he would feel more insecurity than jealousy
But I also think he would try to take Batmom's attention away from his sibling by calling Batmom to help him do something he can easily do alone.
He wouldn't care if you treated his friends like your children. I think he would be happy.
Umh Well… I think there's not much to jealousy about this one...
Damian Wayne / Robin
Yes, I headcanon that Damian is one of the most jealous once he realizes that Batmom can give him the love that Talia didn't give him.
He is the same as Jason, he has the same percentage of jealousy.
The only thing is that he would start making arguments about why Batmom would have to spend the whole week with him and not with her brothers.
Oh, and he doesn't care what Bruce does with Batmom. Although he is disgusted by the slightest affection they have.
At galas, I feel like he would be glued to you, hugging your waist and making sure there is no threat.
If you're not patrolling, he'd be with you watching some movie. (I DON'T KNOW WHY I IMAGINED HIM WATCHING MEAN GIRLS)
"I say mom Is going to go with me first because I'm the best-" And then he was interrupted by his siblings.
There is a relationship of hate and equality between him and Jason…
"Don't you see that my mother has an engagement ring and I'm next to her, son of a- *you interrupt him*" I feel like he would say this to anyone who flirts with you.
He is not understanding why his siblings get to spend more time with her.
Mama's boy
I would continue writing, but I have no more inspiration and ideas, sorry...
Cassandra Cain / Orphan
WHY DID SHE PUT THAT NAME BRO???
Cassandra, being the quiet and observant one, might internalize her feelings of jealousy.
Cass is the last one to get jealous, honestly.
She understands that Batmom loves them all equally and there is no favoritism.
Although sometimes she doubts…
She would feel excluded every time she sees you spend more time with one of her siblings.
But putting that behind, she would know that you love them all equally and would let it go by speaking with you how she feels.
0,1% jealous.
Stephanie Brown / Spoiler
Depends…
I think she would feel jealous if Batmom shows favoritism towards others.
In itself, I don't think Steph is VERY jealous. Just... a little bit.
Duke Thomas / The Signal
I need to read more about this man 😭
He's the newest one in the batfam, but he was still able to connect with Batmom very well.
Duke is not one to be jealous, he just doesn't care what batmom does.
Although he is a similar case to Cass.
He would feel a little "insecure" seeing the ties Batmom has with his siblings.
But it always ends well with Batmom watching a movie with him.
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[You can put more headcanons in a comment if you like!! And suggestions are always welcome <3]
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macfrog · 8 months
Text
ride it, cowgirl cowboy like me chapter ten
hey dudes. anyone up for some dbf? i seriously can't thank you guys enough for all the love y'all show this series. blows my mind every time. i have been super excited for this chapter for a WHILE. might be my fave so far. who knows. you can grab chapters 1-9 on my masterlist and also my ao3 if ur feeling fancy. love u all sm!!!!!! ✨💘💫
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pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader
summary: joel picks you up from a girls’ night. you’ve plans for when you get home
warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) reader isn't an astrology girlie (sorry), more pining beCAUSE, alcohol consumption + a mention of the devil’s lettuce, very quick bit of unwanted touching, even quicker bit of protective joel, soft!joel, softdom!joel, one tiny mention of daddy, protected piv sex this time (feeling conservative slutty max will return), reader rides him into the sunset, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing
word count: 6.7k
series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist
You lazily drag yourself over and over Joel’s dick, each stroke drawing you nearer and nearer to your high. When your body starts to falter, you feel him shift, and open your eyes to see him leaning over to the nightstand. His fingers grip the rim of the black cowgirl hat you’d worn that night. He lies back, flat against the mattress, and reaches up, placing the hat on top of your head. You smile. Joel speaks in a low, gentle, but commanding whisper. “There you go, cowgirl. Show me how it’s done.”
You never believed much in the power of the universe. Astrology, moons, manifestation. Whatever. None of it ever really meant much to you. You knew your star sign, knew which cool little symbol resembled you, and that was about it. Everything past that was…confusing and, frankly, a little overwhelming.
However.
If the universe were to send you a sign, one huge, fluorescent, multi-colored, in-your-face sign, that it was on your side…this weekend might just be it.
Your dad’s downstairs, finishing up packing for his work trip. His departure is imminent. Sarah’s been in Nashville since last night. A series of texts she sent you at 3AM riddled with spelling errors and heart emojis tell you she’s been having a pretty good time so far.
You are Joel are…alone. All by yourselves. For a whole…twenty hours.
Can’t have it all, I guess.
Your eyes skim down the texts you sent him this morning, texts he is yet to reply to.
You: Merry Christmas!!!
You took his non-reply for confusion – he is almost fifty, maybe he doesn’t get the joke? It’s a pretty lame joke, anyways. Very lame. If your thumb hovers over the send button before you press it, it’s probably not that great a joke. And your thumb had most definitely hovered. So, you’d followed it up.
You: As in, today’s the day
You: I don’t mean it’s actually Christmas
You: I mean like, happy ‘we’re finally gonna be alone again’ day
You: Never mind
“Hello?” Anna’s voice cuts through your train of thought. “Are you even listening to me?”
You drop your phone, shaking your head clear of Joel. “Yep. Sorry. Just didn’t catch that last part. You froze.”
The image of her on your – pretty fucking dusty – laptop screen rolls its eyes, knowing you’re lying. “I don’t know whether to go with the pink or the black boots,” she says.
“Ain’t your dress yellow?”
Her head falls into her hands. She throws herself down onto her bed and slides her laptop closer. “That was, like, ten minutes ago. I’m goin’ with the pink strappy one now.”
“Pink does say rodeo.”
“Fuck you,” she snaps through a giggle. “Remind me what you’re wearin’, again.”
“Black hat, black boots, black dress.”
“You’re so boring.”
“Thanks. Really looking forward to our night out.”
Anna snorts and then stands back up, strides over to her closet and resumes rummaging. “Black jacket, too?” she calls over her shoulder.
“Uhuh,” you reply, glancing back down to your phone. “Although – it has rhinestones. And tassels. Not so boring after all, huh?”
Anna’s silence drags your eyes from the text thread back to your laptop screen. She’s frozen in place, twisted around with a dress in her hands, jaw on the floor. “Show it to me. Now.”
“Hold on,” you roll over and off your bed, your shoulder stiff from the position you’d been lying in, “I think I left it downstairs.”
“Tell your dad I say hey!”
You pad down the carpeted stairs in your socks, toward the sunlit hallway.
“Dad, have you seen my– Oh, fuck.”
As you round the corner at the bottom of the stairs, glancing over your left shoulder to the front door, your chest knocks into something hard. Steady. Strong.
Something you recognize the feel of before you’ve given him a proper look.
“Mind your step, baby,” Joel says, and your heart leaps.
“What the fuck are you doin’ here?” you whisper, peering around his body to look for your dad.
“He’s out front,” Joel tells you, then takes your shoulder and reels you in against his chest. “’m just here to help ‘im with his GPS.”
He plants a kiss on the top of your head and gives you a squeeze. Your head rests safely on his chest, arms link at his back. If you didn’t have plans tonight, and if your dad wasn’t, like, ten feet from you guys right now, you’d never let him go. Just follow him around, vice grip around his waist, surrounded by the smell and feel of him.
Not that that means anything. You’d do other stuff, too. You’re not…you know.
Your dad’s voice streams in through the open door and Joel releases you.
“It ain’t for workin’, Joel, I’m about to throw it at the f– Hey, kiddo.”
“Hey. What’s the matter with your GPS?”
You lean in to the tiny device in his hands. Joel’s elbow comes up to rest on your shoulder.
“Just won’t connect to the car. Every time I plug it in, it just…” He lifts his hands, screen loose in his fingers, and hands you a bewildered look.
You look at him, expressionless. “Why don’t you just use your phone?”
“Because I paid almost a hundred bucks for this thing, and I’ll be damned if I’m– Alright,” he stops himself, eyes shutting in exasperation, “I already explained this to him. I ain’t justifyin’ myself to the two of you.”
Joel’s laughing behind his hand, pretending to scratch his nose when your dad stalks off to the kitchen and throws the device down, snatching the instructions off the table.
The pair of you follow, both still trying to swallow your laughter. Joel wanders around the table and sits down beside your dad, fumbling with the screen. You dive into the coat closet at the bottom of the stairs and fish out your bejeweled, tasseled jacket.
“You lookin’ forward to your girls’ night?” Joel asks, eyes flitting up and down the leather jacket in your hands.
“Mhm,” you reply, opening your mouth to continue when your dad butts in.
“S’posed to be a girls’ night, but that boy Sam’s crashin’ it, ain’t he?”
“Well, we asked him.” You shrug. “It’s his night off.”
Your dad scoffs, shaking his head to Joel, who looks up to you with a confused expression. “’s the big deal with that?”
“Oh, wise up, Miller. He’s only goin’ ‘cause of…” He wags a finger in your direction, and a smirk peels across Joel’s lips.
“Is he, now?”
“Uhuh,” your dad replies, intense stare still on the instructions in front of him. “Makes no damn sense. I plugged it in using the cable they gave me in the box. Stupid thing…”
You shake your head to Joel, who’s still looking at you, bemused. He knows you and Sam are just friends. Also knows your dad is the most oblivious theorist to walk the planet. Just aiming his gun at the wrong target, is all.
“I’m gonna let you two get back to…that,” you say, turning to head back upstairs. “Anna says hi, by the way.”
Your dad’s eyebrows rise once, his eyes never lifting from his GPS. “Hi, Anna.”
“Hey, Anna,” Joel echoes, smirk on his lips.
“Not to you,” you throw back, hopping up the first step. You hear his chuckle as you disappear.
----------
Anna’s reaction to your jacket in person matches that over Facetime: a deafening squeal. A squeal which she repeats almost every damn time she sees you throughout the night.
“So – fucking – cute!” she exclaims for the fifth time, fingers dancing through the tassels. “And it goes so well with your hat.”
You sip on your cocktail, nodding enthusiastically, pushing your eyebrows up underneath the brim of the black cowgirl hat on your head. Trying to match her energy. Your mind’s elsewhere.
Joel texted you a few hours ago. Told you to have a good night, said something about Sam, but you were stood right next to the dude, so you quickly locked your phone and slipped it back into your clutch.
Now, standing with your back against the wall of Franks, watching Sam play pool with Eve, you feel safe enough to read over the message.
Joel: Have fun baby. Be safe. Tell Sam good luck from me.
You squint at the screen, pulling it away from your face and leaning back in to read it over. Good luck? The fuck does he mean –
You: Good luck??
He replies almost instantly.
Joel: Yeah. Good luck winning you over. Took me, what, a week?
Oh, fuck off. You roll your eyes and throw your phone facedown onto the table where Anna and Kara sit, about twenty minutes deep into a conversation you missed the beginning of.
Your attention turns to the room before you – brick-walled, metal dome lightshades hanging over each pool table. Glass-paneled door to your left leading back through to the main bar. For being a tiny bar on a backstreet, Frank’s is pretty lively. There are bodies everywhere, bumping by each other, drunken arms slung over shoulders, hips swaying with the soft rock song blasting from out front.
You imagine your dad here with Joel, maybe Hank and Bill, too. Playing pool, beer bottles resting on the felt while they take their shot. Or sat on the rooftop, sipping on a whiskey. Talking about you and Sarah. What does Joel say about you when you’re not around?
And what does he want to say, but can’t, ‘cause it’s your dad? What does he think, and bite back when it bubbles to the surface?
Your straw gargles, slurping up the last few sips of your drink. You lean over to Anna and Kara, holding your empty glass up.
“Another?”
They both shake their heads, and you nod, turning on your own back to the bar.
You squeeze between two older women, both dressed smart and sharp. One of them – clutching a Manhattan – shifts out of the way as you pass.
“…one more conversation with him about squash,” she tells her companion, “and I am gonna blow my brains out…”
You edge over to the bar and slot into a free space, propping your elbows up on the wood. One of Sam’s coworkers – her name escapes you – notices you and shuffles over, smiling sweetly.
“How you doin’?” she asks, running a damp cloth inside a tumbler.
“Good,” you reply. “Could I just get a Bud, please?”
“Sure thing,” she says, and reaches behind to grab one. You slide her a note and she hands you change, and then you’re on your way back to the pool room.
As you slink by the two women, a weight knocks into your shoulder, almost sending your beer flying out of your hand.
“Sorry,” a rough voice sputters on your left, and you glance in its direction. Some broad dude in a tight t-shirt.
“’s fine,” you mumble, clutching your hat; a smell of weed choking your throat.
He passes by behind you, one hand lingering a little too long on your waist, and you saunter back over to Anna and Kara.
“That dude stinks, right?” Anna whispers behind a cupped hand, and you snort.
“He smells like he’s having a good night.”
“We’re talking about Romeo and Juliet over there. We’re basically third, fourth, and fifth wheeling,” Kara says, nodding over to Sam and Eve, who’re finished their game of pool and have now graduated to darts.
“I don’t…think that’s a thing.”
“Eve asked me if Sam was single earlier,” Anna says, lifting her straw to her red lips.
“What?” Kara spits out, choking on her drink. “Eve has a boyfriend!”
Anna giggles. “He’s kinda an ass, anyway. Look at them, they’re so sweet.”
“You say sweet, I hear morally wrong.”
“Who says it’s morally wrong?” you chirp, alcohol pushing the words over your lips before your brain’s had time to stop them. Your fingers clutch your phone, still laying on the table where you left it. “You?”
“Uh, it’s cheating, dude. What if Nick found out?”
“’s not that big a deal,” you reply, phone screen lighting your face in a blue hue, “they’re just having fun.”
Anna points to you, lifting her glass. “Here’s to havin’ fun, I guess.”
Kara lifts her own reluctantly and they clink, but you’re distracted. Already typing a message to Joel. Bored. Drunk. Morally wrong.
You: What you doing?
Joel: Watching TV. What you doing?
You: What ya watvhin ?
Joel: None of your business. Go get another drink. Looks like you’re not drunk enough.
You lift your head with a giggle, almost ready to turn your phone around to Anna and Kara and say, look what the dude I’m sleeping with just text me. And then, thankfully, your good sense kicks in and you bring the screen closer to your chest.
You: Kinda bored. Wanna come home now please
Bored, horny. It all means the same.
Joel says he’ll be at Frank’s in twenty minutes. You rest your chin on your palm and watch as Sam cheers Eve for hitting bullseye.
“I think they’re cute,” you whisper.
Anna and Kara are already preoccupied, taking photos of one another across the table. Kara leans into you and you smile, flash blinding your hazy eyes for a few minutes afterward. A few more pictures, couple boomerangs of your glasses cheersing, and then your phone’s vibrating.
Joel: Outside. No rush.
That last part is where he’s wrong. There most definitely is a rush, and it’s in the form of the heat that starts to pool between your legs.
“Alright,” you shimmy off your barstool and stretch your back. “My ride’s here.”
“What?” Anna almost screams, her hand slapping down on the table. “You’re leavin’?”
You nod. “Sorry, babe.”
“Don’t babe me, traitor. It’s, like, midnight.”
“Uh, it’s, like, almost 2AM. I’m tired. I don’t know how y’all do it.”
She sighs, conceding, and agrees to walk with you to the front door. Kara and Eve stop off by the bar to grab another drink. Sam holds the door open for you and Anna and you’re hit by a wave of cold night air, instantly cooling your hot, sweaty skin.
“Is that…Mr. Miller?” Anna asks, mouth falling wide open.
You glance down the street and notice his black truck, parked up by the curb. “Mhm,” you reply, “my dad’s out of town, so he’s picking me up.”
“Can he take me home, too?”
Sam snickers. “Wow, Anna. That’s just…Wow.”
She shrugs, lips closing around her straw as she stares at Joel’s truck. Something inside you lurches at the idea of Joel sitting there, his eyes glued on you, watching everything you do, everyone around you. And then again at the thought of Anna and her doting gaze on him.
“Alright, I guess that’s my cue to skip.”
Anna pouts. “One more drink?”
“I’m good, thanks,” you scoff, patting her head affectionately. I got business to attend to.
You give her a quick kiss on the cheek and Sam wraps an arm around your shoulder, giving it a squeeze before you’re wandering off toward Joel’s truck.
“Hey.” Something – someone – hooks around your elbow, and you turn back. It’s that same guy who stank of weed.
“Hi,” you reply, as sweet as you can, but trying to loosen his grip.
“Saw you inside, you out with friends?”
“Mhm. I’m just leavin’, my–”
“Few of us are headed upstairs. You wanna come?”
You glare at him a few seconds, before yanking your arm from his grasp. “Nah, no thanks. I’m leaving. Have a good night.”
You stagger off, feeling his eyes on you as you go. Joel’s truck headlights switch on, dazzling your eyes, and you quickly click around to the passenger side, throwing yourself in beside him.
Joel doesn’t say hey, doesn’t squeeze your thigh, doesn’t even look at you when you settle into the seat. Just asks –
“Who’s that kid?”
“Uh…not sure. Bumped into ‘im in the bar.”
“He give you trouble?”
“No,” you lean over the console, pulling your seatbelt over your body, and flash him a tipsy grin, “thought that was my job. Givin’ trouble.”
Joel doesn’t reply. Doesn’t take his scowl off the dude outside Frank’s, either. Your eyes meander across to his hand, locked in a tight fist around the wheel. Your smile drops.
“Joel. It’s fine. Can we go?”
When you lift a hand to the crook of his elbow and he feels your warmth on his skin, he tears his gaze away and it lands on you. Soft, gentle. His lip isn’t curled anymore. His brows lift.
His eyes watch your lips as you whisper the words to him.
“Want you to take me home.”
“’s go, pretty girl.”
----------
Joel refuses, no matter how many times you ask, how hard you bat your eyelashes, how many promises you make, to stop by a drive thru.
“Please?” you ask one last time before he’s pulling in to his neighborhood.
He shakes his head. “Look at that, we’re already home.”
“I ain’t takin’ no for an answer, Miller, not until the engine’s off. We’re still driving.”
He doesn’t reply. Just pulls up in his drive, cuts the engine, and looks at you. Shrugs. “Oops.”
“Fuck you,” you groan, sliding down in your seat. “I’m starvin’.”
“Make you a big breakfast in the mornin’, how’s that sound?”
“Wanted a Big Mac, but whatever.”
Your fingers fumble for the door handle, clicking it open. You roll out of the truck and stroll around to meet Joel at the driver’s side. He snakes an arm around your shoulders, steadying you as you walk up his porch steps and into the house.
“I’m fine,” you murmur, glancing around his living room.
“Alright,” he says, tossing his keys and kicking his boots off.
Your eyes settle on the TV screen, paused. Probably around the time you text him. There’s a crowded hospital room onscreen, doctors in dark blue scrubs, all surrounding someone lying on a bed, someone who looks pretty familiar…
“Is that…fuckin’…Grey’s Anatomy…?”
Joel chuckles, peeling your jacket from your shoulders.
“That’s Meredith! When she–”
“She fell in the damn river,” Joel mutters, placing the tasseled leather over the back of his couch. “Derek had to go in after her. Intense stuff.”
“Right? I told you it was good!” You smack his arm. “I can’t believe you’re watchin’ it without me.”
“I ain’t watchin’ it,” he protests, “it was just on, ‘n I needed something to keep me awake. I’m still rooting for Meredith ‘n George.”
“We can watch it from the beginning.”
“Yeah?”
You nod, moving over to him. “And then I can be over here all the time, and you can make me all the grilled cheese I want, and we can lie in bed and…do stuff.” Your chin rests on his chest, flashing him a toothy grin. Hands swinging in his at your side.
Joel’s eyes narrow, but there’s a smirk on his lips. “You’re drunk.”
“I’m not drunk. I had a couple drinks. I’m not drunk.”
“H’many fingers am I holdin’ up?” Joel asks, raising his fist. You punch it away.
“Ha-ha,” you say tonelessly, and wander away from him.
“Baby,” he calls you from behind. Sure, you’re tipsy, and he can be a cocky asshole – especially when he has to take care of you, but that’s a sound you’ll never get tired of hearing. Baby. You’re his darlin’, his sweet girl.
You spin around, very nearly losing your footing, and he’s standing with an arm out, ready for you to take.
You smile dumbly. Meander over, and take his strong hand in both of yours, wrapping your fingers around two of his to let him reel you in against his body.
“C’mon,” he whispers, as you lean against his frame. “Let’s get you upstairs.”
You follow him up, knowing where he’s leading you. You’ve spent more time in there the last few weeks than you have your entire life.
His room is cool, not cold, but comfortable. It’s Joel all over; the muted colors, the décor, the smell that calms you as soon as you stumble over the threshold.
He sits you down on the edge of his bed and kneels, pulling your boots off one by one.
You giggle.
“You laughin’ at me?”
“You’re like my own personal tr…No, not trainer. Wait. Personal ch–”
“Chef?” he says, snorting. “Not chef. Try again, soberhead.”
“Oh, I dunno.” You throw your arms up as he sits your boots against the wall, then stands and takes your hat off.
“This,” he says, placing it on the nightstand at your side of the bed, “is very cute. I like it.”
“I’m cute, too, y’know,” you whisper, pouting.
He smiles, and leans down to give you a quick kiss on the lips, pointer finger under your chin.
“The cutest.”
“Ha!” you roar. Joel twists around you to undo the zipper at the back of your dress. “Joel Miller thinks I’m the cutest. Take that, Anna…”
He laughs. When he unzips you, he pulls the dress off your bare chest and down your legs. You don’t shy away, used to the idea now of him seeing you naked. Used to the idea of him seeing you in any vulnerable state; drunk, or naked, or in a sobbing mess on day two of your period.
You notice, even though you’re a tad dizzy with what alcohol is left in your system, that his eyes linger on your panties a moment before he turns and grabs a tee from a chair.
And something inside you ticks.
“Joel?”
He’s pulling the shirt over your head. It smells like him. Intoxicates you much more and much quicker than any drink you could order from Frank’s.
“Mhm?”
You feed both arms through the sleeves, swallowing the question you were about to ask. He’s standing up now, telling you to get into bed.
He walks over to his dresser and begins removing his own clothing. He only sleeps in boxershorts. Your eyes track him as he yanks his t-shirt up over his toned shoulders; fingers undo his belt, unzip his jeans. Everything is discarded to the side for now; he has something more pressing to attend to.
His best friend’s daughter, laying in his bed, a pool of wet forming in her panties.
He just doesn’t know it yet.
As he slips under the covers beside you, you pull off your underwear in one quick movement. Joel doesn’t seem to notice, or so you think; his arms immediately take hold of your waist and pull you against his body. You’ve gotten into the habit of sleeping pressed against his torso, his thigh between your legs. Joel settles comfortably with you draped over him, and lets out a deep sigh.
“Joel?” you whisper again into the darkness, growing braver.
“Hm?” he replies, starting to fall asleep.
You toss ideas over in your head. None of them good, you’re sure, but you’re getting desperate. How he can’t feel your damp core on his thigh, you’ve no idea.
But then, maybe he can? Joel doesn’t miss anything, especially not where you and your…arrangement are concerned. Can he feel you? Is he deliberately ignoring it?
Maybe he has something up his own sleeve?
“I…was just wondering…”
“Wondering what, darlin’?” His voice is muffled, spoken through unmoving lips. You glance up at his face. His eyes are closed.
You grow more desperate.
“…wondering what your body count is?”
You ask it as innocently as you can, your voice wavering on the words body count. It gets him, though, as his eyes blink open a few seconds after you say it.
“I ain’t tellin’ you that. Go to sleep.” He closes them again.
“I wanna know.”
He ignores you.
“Joel,” you moan.
He calls you by name now, and you’re not sure if you’re pissing him off or turning him on – or both.
“Go. To. Sleep.”
“I’m not tired, though. Not yet.”
In response, Joel lets go of his hold on you and rolls over without another word. It’d sting if you weren’t soaking wet right now, and didn’t have a strong hunch he was hardening under the sheets.
“Joooel…” you whine, sitting up on your elbow. No use.
You take hold of his shoulder and tug him back toward you, rolling him onto his back. Like a deadweight, he remains frozen.
“Ugh,” you groan, and drag yourself on top of him, knees either side of his waist, ass hovering. When you sit back onto him, your core lining up with his crotch, your suspicions are proven right.
He’s hard.
Not as hard as he can get, as you’d like him to be, as you’ve felt him before…but he’s hard.
“Joel…” you mewl into the darkness, starting to grind your bare center over his boxers. The friction feels good, so you apply more pressure.
“If you don’t stop that,” Joel’s voice finally grumbles, “I’ll be sleepin’ downstairs.”
“Sex in the living room sounds good to me.”
His eyes open. “We,” one hand comes up to point between the both of you, as if he doesn’t expect your sobering self to understand which pairing he means, “are not having sex. No sex tonight.”
You sigh, shoulders dropping dramatically.
“Huff all you want, baby, it is not happening.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because you’re a few drinks too deep and it’s three in the morning. I’m tired, it’s been a long night waitin’ for you, I–”
“So let me make it up to you. I ain’t even drunk anymore.”
“No?”
“Nuh-uh. Could count any number a’ fingers you put in front of me.”
“Funny.” He closes his eyes.
“Joel.” You drag your hips again. If anything, he’s harder than he was when you first sat down on him. “I had a few drinks, I’ve sobered up. C’mon…”
You bend your waist and lower yourself to align your lips with the side of his head, peppering the skin under his ear with soft kisses.
“I wanna ride you, daddy.”
This gets him. His eyes open again, staring up at the ceiling. His hands slowly come up to rest on your hips.
“Don’t– That’s low, even for you, kid.”
You giggle and straighten up. When your hands lightly trace down his chest, onto his midriff and follow the trail of hair to his boxers, he doesn’t stop you. Just watches from beneath hooded lids, tensing at each point your fingers touch.
You raise your eyebrows, watching his expression for any sign to stop, and it never comes. He remains in place when your fingertips hook around the waistband of his underwear, slowly pulling down.
Joel breathes in deep when you reveal the tip of his cock, springing up to rest on his lower stomach. You feel your core clench. If he’s not inside you in the next five minutes, you might scream.
Well, you’ll be screaming either way.
You look back into his eyes and tilt your jaw, asking for permission.
“Go on,” he whispers.
Your hands take him eagerly, pumping up and down his shaft, and his head falls back onto the pillow with pleasure.
“Uhuh,” you mumble, focusing on his solid dick, but desperate for more. You give him a gentle squeeze and a groan passes his lips, his grip tightening on your body.
You let go of him and grind your hips along his length, folds coating his shaft in your wetness. Joel’s humming, watching as you pull yourself up and down him.
Then, you lean forward, and your hands take hold of him again. You give him a couple more strokes, eliciting a deep groan, and then line his bare cock up at your entrance, practically foaming at the mouth to sink down on him already.
“Woah, woah,” Joel takes hold of your wrist, “slow down, cowgirl. I gotta get a condom.”
You huff as he leans over to his nightstand and opens the drawer. “Don’t want one, Joel, I’m on the pill.”
“No way, baby,” he says through a chuckle, silver wrapper in his fingers. “We already did that, one too many times.”
“So just pull out?”
“Nope.”
You sigh, frustrated.
Joel holds the packet out to you, smirk on his face like he doesn’t expect you to take it.
So, you do.
You steal it from him and tear the wrapper, fishing the rubber out between your two fingers. Pinching the top, you roll it down his shaft and pump up and down for good measure.
“Ready?” you ask, head tilted, cocky smile on your lips.
“Wait, wait,” he whispers, shoulders lifting off the mattress. He lifts the hem of your shirt, telling you, “Off,” before pulling it over your head, exposing your bare breasts.
He stares you down; legs wide open, straddling him, completely naked, nipples hardened, figure silhouetted against the slivers of light peeking through the shades from the streetlights outside. You’ve never felt so confident, mounted on top of Joel fucking Miller.
His eyes roll back and his head falls against the pillow. “Fuckin’ – knock yourself out, baby.”
You steady yourself with one hand on his chest, the other taking hold of his cock and guiding it to your entrance. You push his head through your folds a couple times, and Joel hisses at the feeling, before you sink down.
You stop after the tip the first time, but it draws the same reaction from you both. Joel groans even louder than before, and you moan as you push yourself back up.
Then, without warning, you sink the whole way down.
He’s so deep it brings tears to your eyes, so big that he’s stretching you out more than you thought possible, hitting all the right spots already before you’ve even begun.
Joel’s eyes are screwed shut, his grip on your hips digging into your skin so tight it almost hurts. His jaw is tight, holding back what you can only imagine are the neediest moans he could sound.
So, you decide to draw them from him.
You lean forward and begin bouncing, feeling his thickness pull out and push back into you, both hands on Joel’s chest now for balance. You’re whimpering, the burn of his cock stretching your tight cunt so good and borderline painful at the same time, but you don’t stop.
“Good girl, good fuckin’ girl,” Joel moans, opening his eyes to watch you ride his dick. “’attagirl, just like that.”
“Joel…” you cry, letting him bottom out each time, feeling his balls slam into your ass with each bounce.
“Yeah? You like that? Tell me, baby, use your words.”
“So – good – Joel – oh!” you shout.
“Such a good fuckin’ girl for me, huh?”
You fight against the urge to close your eyes; the pleasure between your legs and the knot beginning to tighten in your stomach are all you can see, hear, feel, but you want to watch him some more. You want to see what you do to him.
You lean forward even further, moving your hands to the pillow either side of his head, so you’re directly above him now. One of Joel’s hands comes to the back of your head, pulling you down until your foreheads are together, moans escaping your mouths only to be inhaled by the other.
Joel speaks to you quieter, through gritted teeth.
“Like ridin’ me, do ya? Like the way it feels?”
“Mhm,” you moan back, and he brings a hand down to slap your ass. You yelp. “Fuck…”
“You look so good, baby, so good. Such a fuckin’ whore for me, hm?”
Another stinging spank pulls a whine from you so filthy, so loud that you’re sure the neighbors will hear, even at this hour. Joel smirks back, resting his hand back on your hip, where he has a grip of you.
Then, he bucks his own hips, pushing into you deeper than before, so deep you see stars. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, panting through the searing pain so good that you never want it to end.
“Joel – I’m gonna – fuck, I’m gonna cum!”
“That’s it, sweet girl, cum all over me. Let go, baby, I’m here.”
That does it. The coil snaps, your walls clench. Joel lets out a guttural moan as you throw your head back and ride him through your orgasm. He coos you through it, squeezing your hips, whispering, That’s my girl, doin’ so good, baby as your body rocks back and forth on his cock.
When you come back down to earth, your lids heavy and breathing staggered, you swear your body can’t take anymore. You feel so fucked out that you’re not sure you can sit up straight on top of Joel.
But he’s always been able to read your mind, and this is no different. He pulls himself up and into you, propped up with one strong hand on the mattress behind his back, the other wrapping around your waist. His cock is still buried deep inside you.
“Joel…” you whimper pathetically. “Can’t do it anymore…”
“That’s okay, baby, we’re gonna do this one together, alright? I got you. Can you do that for me? Just one more?”
You link your arms around his neck and lean into him; his strong form doesn’t shift, just takes on your weight and keeps the both of you upright as he starts to bounce you on his length again.
You’re overstimulated; your cunt swollen, fucked-out, drenched in cum, but Joel makes you feel so good that it’s impossible to let him stop. Your arms pull him in closer to your chest to steady yourself, and his groans echo in your ear.
“Good girl, that’s– that’s it, so fuckin’ tight for me, pretty girl.”
When it all becomes too much to take – Joel’s hand squeezing your waist, your clit rutting against the bottom of his stomach, his fucking cock buried so deep inside you that you swear you can feel him splitting you open – you push him back down onto the bed.
Once when you still lived in New York you read something in a Cosmo about spelling the word ‘coconut’ with your hips when riding a guy. You’d tried it a couple times with hookups, and it’d never done anything for you. They’d never done anything for you.
But here you are, nearing your second orgasm, on top of someone making such a mess of you that you brain can hardly compute to spell coconut, never mind your hips being able to round the shape of the word.
You lazily drag yourself over and over Joel’s dick, each stroke drawing you nearer and nearer to your high. When your body starts to falter, you feel him shift, and open your eyes to see him leaning over to the nightstand.
His fingers grip the rim of the black cowgirl hat you’d worn that night. He lies back, flat against the mattress, and reaches up, placing the hat on top of your head. You smile. Joel speaks in a low, gentle, but commanding whisper.
“There you go, cowgirl. Show me how it’s done.”
It’s all you need. It’s all it takes, by this point.
You brace yourself against his chest again, positioning yourself just right, and bounce on him until your vision starts to blur.
The noises slipping out of Joel’s mouth each time your bodies connect at the base of his cock push you closer and closer; every groan and whimper which passes his lips makes you sink your hips down even harder, pushing him deeper and deeper with every bounce.
“So – fuckin’ – big – inside me,” you slur, and Joel moans in response.
When he takes your hips in his hands again, you know he’s there. He’s just waiting for you to fall first.
You give in to him, feeling yourself close around his length, throwing your head back in pleasure as your second orgasm washes over you, igniting every inch of your body.
Joel’s groans meet yours as you lean forward again, slowly rolling your hips to coax him through his own orgasm. Watching him release, buried deep inside, he looks so good that you feel like you could cum again just at the sight.
You feel his cock start to go limp inside you and when he opens his eyes, panting, you smile sweetly at him.
“Fuck, darlin’.”
You giggle, hips still driving gently against his. “Good?”
“So good, baby, did so well. You’re gonna be the death of me,” he whispers with a trembling breath, taking your waist in both hands and giving it a tight squeeze. You roll to the side, letting his cock slip out of you, condom full of his seed.
You tumble onto the mattress beside him, both heaving, moaning messes. Your chests rise and fall in sync, fingers tangling and untangling by your sides.
Then Joel gets up, and wanders over to the bathroom, where you watch him through the open door as he pulls the filled rubber from his soft dick. He bins it, then runs a facecloth under the faucet, dabbing it across his own forehead as he makes his way back over to you.
You can’t hide your grin as you watch his naked form approach; tan lines where his t-shirt must end, dark hair decorating his arms, legs, chest, the base of his cock. He sits at the edge of the bed, arm outstretched with the flannel in hand.
You go to take it from him, but he doesn’t loosen his grip. Just pats it over your face gently, soft gaze on yours, your fingers intertwined around his wrist. Your eyes fall closed, the cold cloth a relief against your warm, sweaty skin.
“Feel nice?” he whispers.
You nod in response. Your chest swells at how soft he’s being, how tender. When he stands to throw the flannel back into the sink, you almost find yourself reaching out to hold him down.
He climbs over you, springing back down onto the mattress with a heaving sigh.
You prop yourself up and shimmy over, positioning yourself on top of Joel, chest-to-chest. He looks down and smirks, running a lazy hand across your cheek.
“You’re so good to me,” he mumbles.
You tilt your head with a smile and lay down on his chest. You can hear his heartrate slowly calming down. His fingers twist through your messy hair.
“I have no idea what you’re laced with,” he says, “but you got me.”
You smile. “Yeah?”
Joel nods. You shift positions, adjusting your aching hips safely between his thighs. “You hurtin’?” he asks.
You nod. “Mhm. But I like it. It’s you.”
Joel’s hands run through your hair and his fingertips trace your shoulders. His touch is so light it almost tickles. You turn your jaw and kiss the back of his hand.
“My dad gone, Sarah out, free house…” you mutter.
“Hm.”
“So, you invite your mistress over.” You lift your head, smirking at him.
Joel’s chest vibrates with laughter. “You ain’t my mistress.”
“Oh really? What am I, then?”
“I am not having this conversation at 4AM, kid. Ask me again tomorrow.”
You’d think of something to throw back at him, messing with him, but your entire body aches, and your heavy eyes are starting to fold closed with how sleepy you suddenly feel.
You pull Joel’s sheets over yourself, turning your back to him. Joel instantly follows suit, pulling up right behind you, your back tight to his chest, his thighs cupping the back of yours, then slipping one between your legs.
His arms lock around your torso under the sheets. Safe. Secure. Nothing can happen to you as long as he’s got you.
“Ten,” his voice mumbles against the back of your head.
You turn so your ear is pressed against his lips. “Huh?”
“Ten. That’s my number. Includin’ you.”
Oh.
He doesn’t ask to hear yours. You wouldn’t mind if he did, but he doesn’t. You don’t think he’s telling you to hear yours in exchange. He’s telling you because you asked. He’s telling you because, whether in attempt to turn him on or simply to know something about him that you didn’t before – something nobody else knows – it mattered to you.
He’s telling you because you matter to him.
You nuzzle back into him a little, a form of reply, and, as you start to fall asleep, you feel him place a gentle kiss to your ear.
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zhongrin · 11 months
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so that even the world does not doubt that you are mine
— aka their ways to stake their 'claim' on you (in a cute and wholesome way)
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◇ characters ◇ zhongli, ayato, childe, xiao, diluc, wanderer, cyno, al haitham
◇ tags ◇ teeth-rotting stomach-hurting fluff, dragon!li, childe calls himself your puppy
◇ a/n ◇ *throws this at yall after the angst last week* HERE'S YOUR THERAPY BILLS /j
𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡
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aside from the obvious way he gravitates around you whenever you’re in public - sometimes with his arm resting on your back and other times with yours looped around his - zhongli never does tell you but he has a little ritual he never fails to perform every morning before he goes his merry way to the funeral parlor.
they do not look like much from a normal person’s perspective, but had you listened religiously to all the tales he told you throughout your relationship, you would have understood the ancient gestures’ meanings to the dragons of the olden days.
today too is no exception; he lets you run your delicate fingers up his proud, battle-scarred horns as you clean them before moving on to clip his hair with his usual hairclip. at the end of it all, he thanks you with a soft nip to your nape.
“there you go. all set. thank you, dearest. have a good day, and i’ll see you again at lunch later, yes?”
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ayato believes that the way one dresses - at least in public that is - could make or break a business deal or a potential ally, therefore, he always upholds himself to dress sophistically at all times. and while he normally does not force you to follow this belief, the number of clothing articles and the finest accessories gracing your doorstep could get a little burdensome…
but the moment he sees you out and about with that specific haori he custom-tailored just for you, its color scheme and the fine embroidery literally screaming ‘kamisato clan’? hmmm… perhaps if wearing them would make him this happy, you should consider doing it more often?
“that haori looks lovely on you, darling. hmm? people were being more polite than usual today, you say? haha, i’d say they were besotted by your loveliness, dear. soft blues and whites have always looked good on you, afterall.”
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childe might be a good actor, but sadly his subordinates are not.
so it really isn’t a surprise when, after befriending the harbinger, you open your door to see a fatui agent conspicuously spying on you right across your lawn.
and when you started dating?
it got worse.
it didn’t even take you a full day to count all five agents trailing after you like lost puppies. you would have thought they learned to disguise themselves after all these times, but no. they look horribly out of place with their huge weapons and flashy uniforms. sure, they’re fulfilling their purpose by being flashy, but you’d prefer if people don’t run away from you in fear whenever you try to talk to them!
…. it seems like it’s time to give them a crash course on how to dress and act more inconspicuously.
“did the dogs misbehave today? no? i’m glad!! ….. still, you sound like you’re getting fond of them…. hey, i’m still your number one puppy, right? right??”
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there are no such things as adepti’s blessings, and yet you carry xiao’s with you everywhere you go.
not that you’re aware of it.
but it shows. it's indicated by the remnants of anemo energy trailing upon your steps. of how his trinkets clink gently against your accessories, always subtle and never too intruding, effectively shooing the evil spirits vying upon possessing your body. in the way the breeze hums gently as it listens to all of the sounds surrounding you, silently protecting, watching, vigilant.
though he might not be able to watch you 24/7, xiao will always continue to make tremendous efforts to keep you safe.
“welcome back. i’m glad you had a good day today.”
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a walking contradiction, this one.
wanderer says he does not enjoy being stared at as you walk through the market, yet he scowls when people ignore him in favor of talking to you instead. he says he does not enjoy sweet food and yet he continues to kiss you, tells you that you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, silently pleading for more with the insistent chase of his lips when you retreat. he says he doesn’t feel the need to announce your relationship to the public eye, and yet the moment someone gets just a little bit too friendly with you, he’s there, almost hissing like an angry cat chancing upon a dog wagging their tail at his unsuspecting owner - his hand settles on your and his hip sticks onto yours, and if looks could kill the unfortunate soul would have been blown a thousand feet into the air and falling rapidly to its demise a hundred times over.
“…… hah! coward. shouldn't have coveted what you can’t have. stupid human. wh- the hell are you doing?! stop pinching my cheek! and how many times do i have to tell you that i’m not ‘cute’!”
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him staking his claim on you? ha. elementary. no, no, no. the tcg legendary player uses an uno reverse card on this one. in everyone else’s eyes, there is no doubt that he is yours.
the way cyno wears your accessories whenever he’s out on duty (it matters not if it “doesn’t match” his aesthetics - he claims seeing it on himself gives him a sense of peace), the speech ticks and the mannerisms he adopts from you (tighnari was the one who picked up on it; he thinks it’s very adorable), the way he walks about sumeru city with a bunch of padisarahs in hand, tied with a ribbon of your favorite color (and more often than not, with a bag of your favorite drinks or snacks in his other hand)…
... and most of all, the way a gentle smile always spreads on his lips when someone mentions your name.
“[name]…………. hm…... come on, tighnari. i need to finish this job. what? you think we can get this done before dinner? that's ridiculous. we will finish it by lunchtime. now, get moving.”
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diluc is so hesitant to stake his claim on you most days, but after a while, it comes almost naturally to him.
he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, but the way he refers to you as his whenever your name comes up in conversations is so smooth, people could easily miss it if they don’t pay enough attention to his words. from “my spouse? yes, they’re doing fine” to “adelinde, where has my beloved gone off to? they weren’t in the study room”, he has mastered the subtle art of painting you as one of his people in others’ eyes, but on the contrary, the implied message is clear - “if you hurt them, i will not hesitate to take action.”
“my betrothed? no, they’re not with me today. but if you need to tell them something, you can always tell me and i’ll relay it to them.”
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whenever he is not within the walls of his new office, al haitham is always seen with you.
in the bustling streets of sumeru, the acting grand sage sticks by your side, sometimes with his hand holding yours, or with you sticking to him like a koala under that cape of his. if one stops by the grand bazaar, they would see him carrying bags upon bags of items as you try to haggle for the 'exorbitant’ amount of mora needed to buy a pack of allspices. and whenever one happens to take a spontaneous stroll in the lush woods surrounding the city, they might stumble to the two of you stargazing, with your head pillowed on your lover’s arm, his expression smoothed out in serene bliss.
there is no mistaking your relationship, for the whole population of sumeru could unanimously agree even without the now-obsolete akasha terminal’s guide: he is yours just as you are his.
“tsk. it is outside office hours right now, i- hm? ah- i… see. you merely wished to inform me where [name] is? very well. this does not mean i will approve of the proposal for your darshan.” “.... but i will at least extend my gratitude and check on it latest by the end of office hours tomorrow.”
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© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!
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janaispunk · 3 months
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need that charles dickens
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pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
word count: ~1.9k
summary: “What do you say, have I been a good elf for Santa?”
“Am I Santa in that scenario?”
“Sure,” you grin mischievously, “if you come down my chimney.”
tags: explicit smut -> 18+!, pre/no outbreak, established relationship, unprotected p in v, oral sex (f receiving), praise kink, use of restraints, mention of a safeword, dom/sub dynamic, dom!Joel, sub!reader, questionable christmas dirty talk (don’t look at me), mention of alcohol consumption, able-bodied reader, no use of y/n
a/n: I don’t have anything to say for myself. I listened to A Nonsense Christmas by Sabrina Carpenter one million times today and then felt the need to write this. Please don’t take it seriously. Merry Christmas my loves 🫶🏻
dividers by @/saradika-graphics who is amazing!
full masterlist here / follow @janaispunknotifs and turn on notifications for fic updates!
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You and Joel are sitting on his living room floor in front of the Christmas tree and its twinkling lights, wrapping the gifts for Sarah while she’s spending the evening at Tommy’s. You’ve shared a bottle of wine and a bunch of cookies and now you’re wrapping the last gift, placing a bow at the top and putting it next to the other gifts. You gather them up and place them prettily under the tree, looking at Joel for appreciation.
“What do you say, have I been a good elf for Santa?”
Under other circumstances you’d probably cringe at yourself, but the glass of wine has you feeling bold and Joel is looking even more handsome than he usually does in the soft light, accentuating his scruffy beard and the wild curls on his head that you want to run your hands through. He chuckles and shoots you a warm look with his deep brown eyes.
“Am I Santa in that scenario?”
“Sure,” you grin mischievously, “if you come down my chimney.”
Joel huffs at your tone and stands up, pulling you to your feet along with him and resting his large hands on your hips, your body flush against his and your faces so close that you can feel his soft breath against your lips.
“Yeah?” he asks in a low voice, “you want me to fill your stocking?”
There’s a hungry glint in his eyes and you’re delighted that he’s joining in your antics. You wrap your arms around his neck and nod eagerly, trying your best to give him a convincing pout and to not break into giggles.
“Mhm. With all those presents in your big sack, Santa.”
“Fuck’s sake…”
Joel shakes his head, then lets his hands trail down until he grabs at your ass and pulls you closer, so close that you can feel his cock hardening as he grinds against you. You capture his lips in a hungry kiss, tugging at the curls that you had eyed earlier.
“Bedroom,” you whisper and he hums in agreement, letting you lead him up the stairs with his hand tightly held in yours.
He tugs at your clothes as soon as you’re over the threshold, his hands running over the bare skin under your sweater before he pulls it over your head and quickly unclasps your bra. He kneads your breasts for a minute, placing messy kisses on your neck and nipping at the skin there, then moves on to slide your jeans down your legs.
Joel crowds you against the bed and you sink down, watching eagerly as he rids himself of his shirt. You can never get enough of the sight of his body, the wide shoulders and the muscular arms, the softness of his belly and the dark hairs that trail down under the waistband of his pants.
He pushes you up the bed until your head is resting against the pillows and his mouth is back on your neck, sucking at the sensitive skin and causing arousal to pool between your legs.
“Hands above your head, sweetheart,” he demands, his voice soft but firm in your ear. You can’t help letting out a whine.
“Please Joel, I want to touch you.”
He clicks his tongue, his fingers harshly pinching at your nipple.
“No, you want to be a good girl for Santa, remember? Hands above your head. Now.”
You huff, but slowly raise your hands towards the headboard.
“Never should’ve started that Santa shit,” you grumble and he chuckles.
“No, this is fun.”
You watch in disbelief as he produces a piece of the red gift ribbon that you had used earlier from his back pocket and proceeds to tie your wrists to the headboard with it, a smirk dancing around his lips.
He keeps hovering over you, his broad body spreading your legs and he searches your face for a moment before pressing a soft kiss to your lips.
“Such a pretty present for me,” he murmurs against your mouth. “What’s the color, sweetheart?”
You arch an eyebrow at him.
“Of that ribbon or how I’m feeling?”
“Don’t be smart with me,” he warns you, his harsh fingers finding your nipple once more and causing your breath to stutter as your hips buck upwards against him. He smirks but doesn’t comment on it, waiting for your answer.
“As green as that fucking tree downstairs,” you grumble and he laughs, his lips finding yours again and his tongue licking into your mouth, caressing yours until you’re breathless and writhing under him.
He grinds his hips into yours, the bulge in his pants rubbing against your already soaked underwear and you let out a breathless moan.
“Joel, please.”
He pulls back until he’s standing and you’re immediately missing his weight on top of you, your eyes glued to his frame as he shoves his jeans and underwear down in one go. Your eyes fly to his cock, taking in the size of him and you subconsciously bite your lips. He strokes himself slowly, watching your expression.
“Was this on your wishlist, sweetheart?”
You can’t believe that he’s still going on with the bit, but you nod and give him your best expression of innocence.
“It was, but I’m afraid that package is too big to gift wrap, Santa.”
“You think?” he growls as he lowers himself back on the bed and hooks his fingers under your panties, pulling them down in a swift motion and leaving you bare before him. His fingers tease at your folds, gliding through the wetness that has collected there and up to rub at your clit gently, causing you to whine and your hips to buck upwards again.
“You’re drenched already, darlin’,” Joel smirks, “let’s see just how well Santa can fill your stocking, hm?”
You’re too far gone to say something about the ridiculous dirty talk and just throw your head back, a breathy “please” falling from your lips when he touches your clit with more pressure and and pushes two fingers into you.
“There you go, you’re such a good girl, so wet for me already.”
He leans down between your legs until his breath fans over your pussy, his shoulders pushing your legs apart and his arms wrapped around them, holding them in position. You're almost trembling beneath him, desperate for more.
“Please Joel,” you whine helplessly and you rather feel his laugh against your skin than you hear it.
His teeth find the soft skin of your inner thigh and he nips at it, making your leg twitch in his grasp.
“Patience, baby. Good girls take what’s given to them, when it’s given to them, don’t they?”
He looks up at your face from between your legs, his eyes dark and glinting in the dimly lit room. You helplessly tug at the restraints and he bites your other thigh, hard enough to make you cry out this time.
“I said, be patient.”
You bite your lip again and try to relax your body while holding his burning gaze until he’s satisfied and presses a kiss to the skin he just bit.
“Good girl, I knew you could do it.”
He finally lowers his mouth to your pussy, starting with gentle licks against your clit that leave you whimpering while his fingers are thrusting into you. You can feel yourself getting closer to your release, your walls fluttering around his fingers and he starts sucking on your bundle of nerves while curling his fingers upwards. Your legs start trembling and you push your hips into his face as you cry out his name, pulsing around him when the tension inside of you snaps and bliss starts flooding your body.
Joel works you through your orgasm, then slowly pulls his fingers out of you and places a gentle kiss on your clit that makes you shiver with a mix of overstimulation and new anticipation. He pushes himself up until he’s on top of you and you smile up at him.
“Thank you,” you whisper, lifting your head to meet his lips as he’s leaning down to you. You taste yourself on his lips and his tongue and moan into his mouth, your body writhing beneath him, desperate for friction once more. He cups your breasts, toying with your nipples and you feel a new wave of arousal flood your pussy.
“You want more?” he asks and you nod eagerly.
“Needy girl,” he smiles, reaching down between your bodies and nudging his cock at your dripping entrance, “let me fill you up.”
He pushes into you slowly, stretching your walls and you moan out a garbled version of his name when he bottoms out inside of you, his own groan catching in his throat.
“I know sweetheart,” he coos, kissing your cheek, “it’s a lot to take, isn’t it? You’re doing so good for me.”
His praise makes you keen and you want nothing more than to run your hands over his strong shoulders and down his back, desperate to feel his hot skin under your fingertips.
He stills inside of you, taking in your face and the hungry look in your eyes.
“How are you feeling, sweetheart?”
“Good,” you whisper, trailing off into another moan, “g-green. Harder, Joel, please.”
“Good girl, asking so politely.”
He presses his lips against yours once more, then he straightens up and lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, pulling out until only his tip is wedged inside of you and forcefully thrusting back into you. Your mouth falls open at the new angle and you all but shout his name, making him groan.
“Yeah baby, let me hear you. Tell me who makes you feel this good. Tell me who this pretty fucking pussy belongs to.”
The harsh rhythm he’s setting with his thrusts pushes the air out of your lungs and he grabs your face, forcing you to look at him.
“Tell me who, sweetheart.”
“Y-you Joel, fuck, feels so good,” you stutter, already feeling the tension building up again.
“Taking it so well, good fucking girl. Let me feel you come again, come on.”
He pounds into you harder, reaching down to rub at your clit again and you whine, your back arching off the bed as you’re desperately chasing your high, his cock dragging against your walls and hitting deep inside of you.
“Give it to me sweetheart, I know you can do it,” Joel pants, giving you another particular hard thrust and you clench down around him, breathless moans falling from your lips and your vision swimming as your orgasm crashes over you.
“Fuck,” he groans, stilling with his hips pressed against yours, his hands digging into your thighs as he pulses and releases his cum deep inside of you.
He stays like this for a few seconds, catching his breath, then lowers himself onto his elbows and kisses you deeply before he releases your wrists and gathers you in his arms.
“You did so well for me,” he whispers, peppering your face with kisses and holding you close against his chest.
“I guess Christmas came early,” you giggle, feeling happy and warm in his embrace, basking in your post orgasm haze. Joel huffs out a laugh and holds you tighter.
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thank you so much for reading! if you liked it, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment - nothing would make me happier 🫶🏻
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elliesbelle · 3 months
Text
nobody compares to you
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chapter 13
pairing: ellie x reader
synopsis: you're in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?
content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, dealer!ellie, mentions of marijuana and descriptions of its usage, descriptions of anaphylactic shock, brief mention of needles, descriptions of anxiety, mentions of death, descriptions of jealousy, mentions of breakups, several flashback scenes, mentions of LSD and its usage, descriptions of acid tripping, ellie's POV, minors do not interact
word count: 9k
chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen
series masterlist
my masterlist
i have a ko-if if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎
the "nobody compares to you" spotify playlist
songs featured in this chapter (including a surprise audio in the middle of the fic):
the aaron taylor song “i think i love you again”
the carpenters song “merry christmas darling”
palestine will be free
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“Where the fuck even are you?” 
“Not home.” 
“Well, no shit. I’m literally sitting on your living room couch, dumbass.” 
“Get out of my apartment, weirdo.” 
“Stop procrastinating, asshole.” 
Ellie rolls her eyes as a couple of bright yellow leaves slowly dance down on the pavement from the nearby trees on her path home. One hand is holding her phone up in front of her with Dina’s face front and center on the screen through FaceTime. 
Having just dropped off a rather large order to a couple of sophomores living on campus, Ellie’d decided to take the longer, more scenic route home instead of the usual way she’d go every day. She had a “date” lined up with Daniela in about an hour or so, a meeting she wasn’t particularly looking forward to being present for. Having no enthusiasm to actually be on time to meet up with her, Ellie was purposely and leisurely delaying her return home to get ready. 
Dina, busy lounging on the couch in Jesse and Ellie’s living room, busies herself by finishing a bland, microwaveable mac and cheese she’d found shoved in the back of the duo’s freezer. She was casually killing time talking to Ellie through video chat while she waited for Jesse to finish getting ready for their movie date night. 
Jesse enjoyed dragging Dina along to a movie theater in the neighbouring downtown area that showed old and foreign films. Back home in Jackson throughout their childhood, he and Ellie would make Dina sit through old sci-fi pictures, cult horror films, martial arts movies in a completely different language and with no subtitles. Dina would sit in the middle of the two in complete boredom as she listened to them psychoanalyzing background characters who had two lines and spending hours explaining their personal interpretations of a single camera angle in some inconsequential scene. 
When they all began attending university, Jesse was over the moon upon discovering the nearby theater and the kind of films they would show. Dina complained every single time, but she secretly enjoyed these date nights regardless, always arguing with Jesse on the way home with her own analyses of the movie they’d just seen. She was a little less enthusiastic this time, however, upon hearing that the film they were about to go see was an early 2000s Bollywood movie that had a running time of nearly four hours. 
Jesse had just gotten home from working out at the gym and was busy showering, and Dina decided to preoccupy herself in the meantime by berating Ellie for her disinterest and voluntary tardiness for her “date” later that evening. 
“El, I really don’t understand why you’re even bothering with her,” Dina says after a huge, wet slurp of her mac and cheese. “Leave that poor freshman girl alone. You really don’t even seem to like her that much.” 
“She’s still got Joel’s jacket and I want it back.” Ellie shrugs nonchalantly. 
“Maybe if you didn’t pass that shabby old thing around to every new girl you see for a month…” Dina replies, not bothering to mutter under her breath. 
“Oh, leave me the fuck alone, D,” Ellie says, chuckling. “Slutshamer.” 
Jesse jaunts into the living room, jet black hair damp and fully dressed, and spots Ellie’s face on Dina’s tiny screen. He waltzes towards the couch and, without any warning, stealthily snatches Dina’s phone right out of her hand. 
“Hey!” Dina protests indignantly, trying to reach for it back. 
Jesse ignores her as Ellie cackles. 
“Yo, what the fuck, Williams.” Jesse scolds the auburn-haired girl. 
“Wassup, Chang.” 
“What the hell did you ditch me and the gym for earlier? Today’s our cardio day.” 
“Had a delivery,” Ellie shrugs. “Wanted two 40 bags on top of a few lavender pre-rolls. And they lived on the opposite side of campus.” 
“A likely excuse,” Jesse scoffs. “I think you’ve been harbouring a secret, years-long grudge against me and hate me for some reason.” 
“Oh, it’s not a secret. I do hate you.” 
“Dickhead.” Jesse chuckles as Dina laughs behind him with a mouthful of mac and cheese. 
Before Jesse can continue to berate his best friend, his own phone rings noisily from the inside of one of his jeans pockets. 
“Oh, look. Someone who actually loves and appreciates me.” He says indignantly, handing small-scale Ellie back to Dina. 
Ellie playfully rolls her eyes, trying to ignore the fact that Jesse’s phone is currently buzzing and blaring with the personalized ringtone he’d set for your contact years ago shortly after you’d all met for the first time. 
Dina, recognizing the familiar sound as well and noticing Ellie’s tight lips and rigid expression, attempts to change the subject. 
“So where exactly are you gonna be meeting up with the Daniela girl?” Dina quickly asks Ellie at the same time that Jesse booms, “Good evening once again to my absolute favourite person in the whole world!” 
Ellie hesitantly begins to reply to Dina but cuts off almost immediately when she hears Jesse’s tone turn serious and mutter a name she’d come to despise. 
“Oh. Hey, Anderson. What’s up?” Jesse says blankly. “Where’s—” 
“Oh, shit.” Dina inadvertently murmurs as Ellie’s face immediately goes red with fury. 
“Why the fuck is Anderson calling Jesse on her phone?” Ellie demands quietly of Dina. 
“I mean… she is on a date with her tonight…” Dina admits, knowing that lying to Ellie about your current whereabouts is pointless after figuring Jesse would eventually blab it anyway. 
“Are you fucking serious?” Ellie seethes. 
“I don’t really know why she’d be calling Jesse, though. That doesn’t make any sense.” Dina says, setting down her fork and turning her head back towards her boyfriend as Ellie watches him from the corner of her phone screen. 
Both girls stare Jesse down as he intently listens to the other end of the line, the two getting more and more nervous as his face gets stonier as each second passes. When he finally speaks, his voice is grave and urgent. 
“Is she breathing?” 
“What?” Both Dina and Ellie simultaneously say in distress, which Jesse ignores. 
“What did she eat?” He asks Abby. 
“What’s going on?” Dina implores of him fearfully, sitting up straighter in her seat and completely abandoning her partially eaten mac and cheese on the coffee table. 
Jesse holds up a pointer finger as an indication that he needs to keep listening as Ellie hushes her sternly, fiercely trying to eavesdrop on Jesse’s conversation. 
“Okay. What did you eat?” Jesse questions. 
The way Jesse’s face falls elicits a sharply drawn breath from Dina and drains all the colour from Ellie’s face. 
“Did she have any?” He asks. 
While Jesse listens for Abby’s lengthy response, Ellie quickly averts her eyes back to Dina. 
“Dina.” She says hastily. “Where did Anderson take her tonight?” 
“Orchards. It’s that fancy restaurant that’s like, right by here.” 
“I know. They serve a lot of seafood there, right?” 
“I don’t know.” 
“Do you think Anderson ordered any?” 
“El, how am I supposed to know that?” 
“Well, does Anderson know that she’s deadly fucking allergic to shellfish? That she can’t even fucking touch that shit?” 
Dina’s terrified face suddenly goes completely pale before she responds. 
“I-I don’t know.” 
“Does she have any pockets or some kind of bag with her?” They hear Jesse say. “See if she has her EpiPen in there.” 
“E-El… I don’t think she does.” Dina stammers.” I helped her get dressed and I saw her before she left, and I-I don’t think…” 
Ellie nearly drops her phone on the pavement below her from how clammy her hands have become from complete fear. When she hears Jesse fiercely mutter a furious “fuck,” she breaks into a sprint. 
“Dina!” Ellie demands. “Give me back to Jesse! Now!” Dina hastily hands her phone to her petrified boyfriend without question as he quickly asks Abby to stay calm and give him a quick second. 
“Jess!” Ellie breathlessly yells, not bothering to keep her voice down and without any concern for the fellow students she was alarming as she ran by. “Go to my room right now and search in the bottom drawer of my desk!” 
Promptly and silently, Jesse darts in the direction of Ellie’s bedroom with Dina following closely behind him. 
“There’s an old EpiPen of hers somewhere in there! I think it’s probably a couple of months expired now, but grab it anyway!” 
Jesse and Dina unceremoniously bust into Ellie’s bedroom and follow her instructions precisely. After forcibly yanking open the bottom-most drawer of her computer desk, they begin to desperately rifle through it. After a few seconds of frantic ransacking through its miscellaneous contents, Jesse pulls out a thick, plastic cylindrical object with tiny lettering embellished all over the translucent plastic. 
“Look for the little slot on the side of it that shows you some liquid-y shit inside!” Ellie presses him. “Is it still completely clear and clean, or is it all brown and murky?” 
“It’s clear.” Jesse replies after quickly inspecting the EpiPen. 
“Okay, go!” Ellie orders. “Dina’s gonna call 911 right now! Orchards is right around the corner from our place! Inject the needle on the outside of her thigh! And check her pulse and see if she’s breathing, ‘cause you’ll need to do CPR if she isn’t! Paramedics probably won’t get there for another five minutes, so you just gotta keep doing chest compressions until they can get there!” 
Jesse nods and immediately sprints out of the room after handing Dina her phone, placing his own back to his ear and quickly informing Abby that he’d be there shortly, firmly asking her to check your pulse. 
Dina sets her eyes on Ellie, pure terror engraved on her face. 
“S-shouldn’t we grab the EpiPen she has now in her apartment? I think I know where it is, probably. Isn’t that safer than—”
“Her apartment is fifteen minutes away from Orchards and Jesse can get there in two! We can’t waste any more time!” Ellie clarifies. “Now, I need you to hang up right now and call 911 and explain everything that’s happening! Go!” 
Ellie doesn’t bother waiting for Dina to end the call and roughly taps on the red button herself. 
She shoves her phone into the pocket of her hoodie and quickens her pace. 
Her lungs winded and her heart threatening to beat out of her chest, she couldn't seem to care any less about her own breathing at that very moment. She trusts nothing else but her own feet to get her exactly where she desperately needs to be. She sees nothing and no one else but the pavement directly in front of her, cutting across the university’s campus through the fastest route she can think of in the moment. 
Despite never having been a religious person in any way, Ellie begins to plead a desperate prayer in her mind to whatever god or deity ever thought to exist that you were still breathing somehow and that Jesse had found you and gotten there in time. 
She takes a moment to pull her phone out and check how long it’s been since she ended the FaceTime call with Dina, seeing that a little less than five minutes had just passed. She considers calling her once more for any updates; but not wanting to risk being a possible distraction in case Dina is needed in the moment, she ultimately decides against doing so and instead wills her feet to fly faster. 
Unwelcome thoughts begin to involuntarily flood Ellie’s mind as she sprints. 
She thinks of the last time you’d seen each other: that night of your heart-to-heart dinner with Jesse at Sterling’s. It felt almost fated for her and Dina to walk into the same restaurant at the same time that the two of you had been meeting. Ellie recalls the identical look of dismay on both of your faces, equally overwhelmed at the sight of one another. She can still feel the angry yet doleful tears that fell down her red cheeks as she stormed away from the diner, threatening to expose endless repressed feelings of remorse and heartache. 
She remembers the day she saw your sudden reunion with Abby Anderson, you dressed in that beautiful floral sundress and very obviously flirting with the tall, muscular blonde. Her nails were so angrily digging into her palms at the sight of you two that she can still feel the phantom marks that had nearly drawn blood. She’d nearly frightened Dina, who was lounging on the living room couch with a joint in hand, when she busted into her and Jesse’s apartment with immediate choice words that were aroused by her unbridled anger. 
She recalls the last time you’d actually spoken to one other directly on that miserable, unfortunate night of the Sigma Eta party, how taken aback she was at how you were still so undeniably beautiful underneath the pale moonlight. Having been sitting on the hood of her Jeep while she watched in amusement at your futile attempts to keep yourself warm, she thinks of the way your eyes were furiously and desperately trying to avoid her piercing ocean green gaze. The memory of the angry, fleeting look you’d given Daniela when you’d noticed Joel’s old motorcycle jacket resting on her shoulders is one she can never forget; nor could she the air of raw, bitter indignation that radiated off you at the sight of one of your signature lavender joints nestled in between Daniela’s lips. 
She can still feel the visceral rage that sparked inside her from Frat Guy Adam’s casual cruelty towards you, followed by feelings of pity at watching the way your face had fallen at his words. The sheer remorse from pathetically having done nothing right when it happened still weighs on her. Ellie can never forget the simultaneous feelings of shame and comfort she’d felt after your heated encounter with her in the bathroom of Sterling’s: shame from being forcibly confronted with a reminder of the deepest regret of her life, comfort at finally being able to see with her own eyes, after so long, the face of a person she once adored more than she did anyone else in the world. 
Maybe even still. 
Ellie finds herself at the intersection where her shared apartment with Jesse is located. Her pursuit is frustratingly impeded when she’s stopped by the angry, glowing red hand at the crosswalk she needs to get past to reach Orchards. For a few moments, she’s at least able to catch a much-needed, painful breath.
While she bounces up and down on her feet in impatience, very seriously contemplating running across anyway and risking being hit by a speeding car, Ellie thinks of one thing and one thing only: the first moment her eyes met yours all those years ago. The moment when she knew, deep down and instinctively, that everything had changed. 
She’s brutally broken out of her brief reverie by the blaring of sirens booming from around the corner. Her head immediately shoots towards the sound and she watches as two ambulances with flashing red and white lights speed down the road and towards what she believes is the direction of the nearest emergency room. 
Ellie wastes no time bolting down the crosswalk the millisecond that the pedestrian signal finally blinks to white, sprinting down the street of Orchards. She’s somehow able to spot Dina’s figure in the middle of a small crowd of people gathered next to the restaurant and immediately sprints towards her. By the time Ellie is able to reach her, most of the unfamiliar bystanders have dispersed with whispers. Her heart races as she sees Dina’s cheeks dripping desperately with tears. 
“Dina!” Ellie huffs, using the last of her breath and energy to dash to her side. 
“Ellie!” Dina sighs in relief upon spotting her friend. 
They envelop each other in a tight embrace, Dina hiccuping slightly into Ellie’s shoulder. 
“What happened? Did you guys make it in time? Is she okay? Where is she? Where’s Jesse?” Ellie rambles. 
“Sh-she’s okay, I think,” Dina stammers. “She was breathing when Jesse got here, but her pulse was really slow. The paramedics got here a few minutes after Jesse did.” 
She sloppily wipes her eyes with the back of her hands before continuing. 
“They said that the EpiPen probably saved her life, said that she would have had a lot less of a chance if we had waited for them to arrive. Expired EpiPen was better than nothing, as long as it wasn’t too far off from when it did expire.” 
Ellie takes a relieved breath in at hearing this. 
“Thank god. Thank fucking god. That’s what I thought, but I-I honestly wasn’t sure. I couldn’t remember clearly in the moment.” 
“How did you even know that?” Dina asks her in genuine curiosity. 
“I-I… wh-when we were, you know, t-together…” Ellie mutters awkwardly. “I made sure to know, j-just in case.” 
“Oh, Ellie…” 
Ellie wrings her hands together and clears her throat in embarrassment. 
“So where’s Jess? Where’s Anderson?” She asks, changing the subject and voice dripping in disdain at the last word. 
“Jesse rode in the ambulance with her and the paramedics, and Abby said that she’d follow behind in her car,” Dina replies. “I stayed behind ‘cause I figured you were coming and I wanted to be able to tell you what happened.” 
“Thanks, D.” 
Dina stares at Ellie earnestly for a moment. 
“You really do still love her.” Dina says, not as a question but as a statement. 
Ellie doesn’t respond to this remark, her lips tight and her ocean green eyes unreadable. 
“Come on. Let’s go see her.” 
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You had been brought to St. Peter’s Hospital, the closest one located to your university. When Ellie and Dina had gotten there, they found Jesse sitting alone in the mostly empty waiting room. He was staring up at the dreary off-white ceiling, his left leg nervously bouncing up and down as one of his hands gripped his right knee. When he spots the two girls enter the room, he immediately jumps out of his seat to meet them. He pulls his girlfriend into a tight embrace and gives her a tender kiss on the forehead, and then he places a firm and reassuring hand on his best friend’s shoulder. 
“How is she?” Ellie asks. 
“Unconcious still, but she’s alive,” Jesse replies somberly. “The paramedics in the ambulance told me that they were pumping her full of adrenaline; and so now, they’re either still doing that or they’re just trying to get her heart rate back to normal. Apparently, her tongue was so swollen and her throat closed up completely, so they’ve got to reopen her airways ‘cause she’s having a hard time breathing.” 
“Oh, god…” Dina chokes out. 
“Don’t worry, D.” Jesse consoles. “She’s gonna be fine. She’s strong, and we know that. They’re taking care of her, and she’ll hopefully be awake soon.” 
“I know, I know…” Dina sniffles. “It’s really not like me to fall apart like this. But she’s like a sister to me, you know. I mean, she basically is.” 
“Me too, babe. Don’t worry. We all love her too. No need to explain.” Jesse says. 
Dina gives him a soft smile as he gives her another tender forehead kiss. Watching such a small but affectionate scene between the two makes Ellie feel as if she’s intruding on a private moment she shouldn’t be witnessing. Jealousy in the form of a knife in the stomach twists inside her while her heart aches to feel that kind of intimacy. 
“Oh, I should call her uncle,” Dina suddenly realizes, pulling away from Jesse slightly. “I still have his number. He should know what’s going on.” 
“Good idea.” Jesse agrees. “He’s one of her emergency contacts, but I’m not sure if he knows just yet.” 
“I’ll call the girls too,” She continues, referring to the other girls who lived in the Wilson Valley building with you and Dina during your freshman year. “I know that they’ll all want to know too.” 
She pulls her phone out of her pocket before muttering a quick “be right back” and exiting the waiting room. 
Jesse and Ellie watch her walk out silently. After a moment or two, Jesse speaks up. 
“Are you okay, El?” 
“What do you mean?” 
“Come on, man. Don’t do that. You know what I mean.” 
“I’m fine, Jess.” 
“Dude.” 
“What?” 
Jesse turns his whole body to face Ellie straight on, crossing his arms against his chest and frowning. 
“You’re completely red in the face, you look the most stressed out than I’ve ever seen you, and you’re here.” 
“So?” Ellie replies stubbornly. 
“Williams.” Jesse stresses sternly. “You know Dina and I saw everything you had in that drawer.” 
Ellie says nothing to this and Jesse continues. 
“You literally still had her old EpiPen from like, two years ago. That entire drawer was full of her shit.” 
Ellie clenches her jaw and balls up her fists. 
“You still have all those old letters she used to write you all the time, all these momentos and knickknacks from when you two were together. You even have Barbie Bear.” Jesse points out. “Did you know that she’s been chewing Dina out about her for years because she thinks Dina stole her?” 
“Look, she and I just stopped talking to each other all of a sudden before sophomore year. I never had an actual chance to give her all of her shit back—” 
“You literally could have given them to me or Dina or even any of the girls so we could return them.” 
“Look—” 
“And what about the rest of it? Shit that you didn’t have to give back? It’s been years. You could have easily thrown it all out.” 
“You don’t understa—” 
“You didn’t even bother leaving all that shit back home in Jackson. You brought it all here with you to keep in our apartment.” 
“I… I—” 
“She could have fucking died tonight, El. And you’re still bullshitting me.” 
“Jesse.” Ellie croaks out through quivering lips and watery eyes. 
“You saved her life. She could have very well been in a worse state right now if it weren’t for you. You told me and Dina what to do. Nobody told you to do any of that. And by the state of you, it looks like you just ran three marathons in a row just to get here and make sure she was okay in person.” 
Tears threaten to flow down from Ellie’s ocean green eyes, and it takes every ounce of strength that she has left in her to will them not to fall. 
“She means so, so much to me and Dina and to a whole bunch of other people too. When she hurts, we hurt too.” Jesse says. “I need you to get your motherfucking shit together, Williams. Now.” 
Before Ellie can even form some kind of thought in response to his declaration, Dina suddenly reenters the waiting room. 
“Called her uncle and told him everything I know. He’s currently finding the first flight out and he’ll hopefully be here sometime tomorrow.” Dina informs the pair as she walks over. “Just got off the phone with Astrid too. Most of the girls are either busy or asleep by now, but she said she’ll let them know too as soon as possible. If she’s awake tomorrow, they’ll try to come by to pay her a visit.” 
“Okay, good.” Jesse nods in response. “Thanks for doing that, D. I was so focused on what’s been going on, and none of that even crossed my mind.” 
“They deserved to know.” Dina shrugs before suddenly frowning. “But why did she even go into anaphylactic shock in the first place? They both asked me, but I realized that you never actually told either of us and I didn’t know what to tell them.” 
“She and Anderson were making out, and Anderson had eaten some seafood bouillabaisse for dinner. Apparently, it had a bunch of chopped-up shrimp in it.” Jesse says plainly. 
Dina inadvertently glances at Ellie in slight sympathy, but Jesse looks at her with zero remorse on his face. 
“She didn’t tell Abby that she was really allergic?” Dina asks. 
“Anderson said she had no idea, that she wouldn’t have ordered it if she knew in the first place.” Jesse clarified. 
“Anderson should have fucking double-checked re-fucking-gardless.” Ellie angrily interjects. 
“It’s not Abby’s fault, El. There’s no way she could have known.” Dina reasons. 
“Doesn’t matter. Isn’t she studying to be a fucking doctor? Isn’t that some basic shit that they teach at med school? She should have known better.” Ellie seethes. “Where the fuck is she, anyway? I thought she came along.” 
“She went down to the food court for a breather.” Jesse says. 
“Oh, she needs a breather?” Ellie sneers. “Yeah, go ahead and catch your breath when the person you almost killed tonight can’t even fucking breathe—” 
“Ellie!” Dina scolds. 
“Whatever.” Ellie scoffs. 
“El,” Dina suddenly brings up. “Have you talked to Daniela yet?” 
“What about her?” Ellie asks. 
“Weren’t you supposed to meet up with her…” Dina checks the time on her phone. “... almost an hour ago?” 
“So?” 
“Ellie.” 
Ellie clicks her tongue. 
“Fine, let me text her right now that I won’t make it—” She begins to say begrudgingly, but she cuts herself off as someone else enters the waiting room. 
Abby Anderson quietly walks through the door, sipping a plain black coffee from a styrofoam cup. She looks up from her drink and gives Jesse an awkward but polite smile which he respectfully returns with a nod. 
Ellie’s entire body goes cold with frigid, icy hatred, exacerbated when her furious ocean green eyes are suddenly met with Abby Anderson’s tired sky blue ones. 
“Actually,” Ellie suddenly says. “I’m gonna give her a call and see if she’s still free to meet up tonight. I still want my jacket back.” 
Both Dina and Jesse look as if they’re each about to interject with a response, but Ellie is too quick for either of them to say a word. 
Ellie storms out of the waiting room, not giving a second look at Abby Anderson. 
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Ellie throws Joel’s old leather jacket onto her bed, sighing softly. She sheds her sweaty grey hoodie and throws it down next to the jacket before pulling her phone out. She proceeds to call Jesse, but she’s greeted with ten, empty-sounding buzzes before being redirected to his voicemail. She then attempts to call Dina but is greeted with an immediate automated message stating that the call could not be completed. 
Groaning in exasperation, Ellie collapses into her desk chair and roughly kicks off her Converse. After a moment or two, she notices the bottom-most drawer of her desk and the way it’s hanging off the frame precariously. Sighing, she crouches down on the floor and begins to rearrange its previous contents. 
At first, she shoves items back into the drawer at random, but she immediately pauses once her hand grazes across the fur of a pink stuffed animal. 
Barbie Bear. 
She picks the toy up and stares sadly into its plastic eyes. Noticing that the light pink ribbon around its neck had gotten loose, Ellie delicately attempts to retie it back into a bow. After a couple of lopsided tries, she’s eventually satisfied once she’s able to center the ribbon correctly. She carefully places Barbie Bear back into the drawer before returning to restoring its contents with more consideration. 
After replacing a few pairs of old earrings of yours into a small box, she picks up a stack of old letters that she’d tied together with a piece of brown twine. Ellie resists the urge to go through each of them, but when she notices that one had fallen out of the stack and is now lying on the floor, her willpower dwindles almost instantly. 
Ellie picks up the envelope gingerly, almost as if she’s afraid that her touch will cause it to burst into flames. She reads her name on the front written with green ink and flips it over to where the flap of the envelope was torn open. She runs her fingers over the wax seal that had secured the letter inside: the design of Saturn amongst several stars. Nervously, she slips the card out from inside and unfolds it to reveal your handwriting. 
Dear Ellie, 
It is currently 4:27 A.M. and I can’t sleep, and for some reason, I can’t stop watching that story you posted on Instagram earlier over and over. The one of you singing and playing your electric guitar to that Aaron Taylor song. Not to be gay as fuck, but it is so easy to get lost in the sound of your voice. Also, I really like your lips. And your hands. 
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I know I said this yesterday already, but you’ve been overworking yourself way too much lately. I’m glad that you’ve been putting a lot of effort into your schoolwork, but have you eaten? When was the last time you had a full meal (microwaveable ramen does not count)? Have you been taking any time for yourself? It’s really sweet that you still make time to come hang out with me most days, but you need some you time too, you know. 
Not that I don’t love seeing your goofy face all the time. I don’t know, I think me writing all that out is me casually acknowledging that I have attachment issues and attempting to work on it. I’m pretty attached to you, fucking dork. 
Okay, heading to bed now. Hopefully, I’ll actually be able to fall asleep this time. But hopefully I’ll see you tomorrow. You’re always the best part of my day. 
Ellie can’t seem to let herself read the final piece of the letter, the part where you’d signed your name. 
She delicately folds the card once more and places it back into its envelope. Turning it over in her hand and tenderly running her fingers over where you’d addressed her name, she wonders if your handwriting is still the same as it was all those years ago. 
Reluctantly, Ellie tucks the letter back into the stack before tying them all securely together once more. 
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Earlier That Evening 
Ellie was fifty-two minutes late to her supposed “date” with Daniela. This was Ellie’s third failed attempt at reacquiring Joel’s old motorcycle jacket, and they had previously decided to meet up outside the coffee shop on campus where Daniela recently started working after the end of her shift. 
But after Ellie’s unexplained absence from their meeting, Daniela bitterly stormed back home to her dorm. She had half a mind to say no when Ellie called her with a half-assed explanation and asked if she could come over to retrieve her jacket. But after giving in, Ellie arrived at her dorm room within half an hour. 
It wasn’t a total shock to Ellie to be greeted with a look of annoyance when Daniela opened the door for her. Ellie attempted to feign a guilty expression, but all that she could muster was a grimace. Daniela said nothing as she silently beckoned Ellie to follow her and come in, an AirPod playing music loudly in one ear. 
Ellie took a quick glance around the place, never having actually been inside Daniela’s room before. The twin-size beds, old wooden dressers, and scuffed-up desks were an all-too-familiar sight for Ellie, having gone through the same torturous experience herself only a couple of years back. But a few things were different as Daniela and her roommate had attempted to really personalize their living area. Ellie tried not to make a face of repulsion when spotting a few Taylor Swift concert posters above one of the desks. 
Daniela plopped onto, what Ellie had assumed was, her bed but made no gesture that welcomed Ellie to do the same. She merely stared at her as Ellie tried to avoid looking her directly in the eye. 
“You’re an hour late.” Daniela pointed out. 
“Only fifty-two minutes late.” Ellie attempted to joke. 
Daniela only hummed in response, unsmiling. She picked up a faded brown jacket that was sitting on top of her pillow by the collar and handed it over to Ellie. 
“Thanks,” Ellie muttered, tucking the jacket under her arm. “Thanks for looking after it. Needed it back ‘cause it’s really my dad’s old jacket.” 
“Oh, sorry. I would have given it back sooner if I knew that.” Daniela replied, not sounding the least bit sorry. 
“It’s okay.” Ellie mumbled awkwardly. 
There was an uncomfortable moment or two of complete silence where Daniela continued to merely gaze at Ellie, unwavering and unapologetic, while Ellie focused her eyes on her Converse as she wrung her hands together. 
“Hey, look…” Ellie eventually spoke up. “I really am sorry about being late. I just had a really important emergency that I had to deal with.” 
“It’s fine,” Daniela replied remorselessly. “Tara told me that you suddenly had to deal with some shit.” 
“Wait, what?” 
“Tara. Tara Maclay. She works with me at Ruston.” 
“Oh, right.” 
Another awkward moment of silence. 
“Your ex-girlfriend, right?” Daniela asks unexpectedly. 
“What?” 
“Your ex-girlfriend. The shit you had to deal with tonight.” 
“Oh, uh…” 
“No point in lying, Ellie.” Daniela shrugged. “Tara already told me the gist.” 
“Oh. What did she say exactly?” 
“Not much. Said that you needed to help deal with something for someone you both know. She didn’t tell me exactly that it was your ex-girlfriend; but it was pretty obvious, and I read between the lines.” 
“Oh.” 
“Yeah.” 
“She really shouldn’t have told you all that.” 
“She was ranting to another co-worker and I overheard your name and I was curious.” Daniela shrugged again, unabashed. 
Another awkward moment of silence. 
“So you still into your ex or something, Ellie?” Daniela spoke up again. 
“She’s not really my ex-girlfriend.” 
“Whatever.” 
Another awkward moment of silence. 
“Well?” Daniela asked. 
“It’s kind of complicated.” 
“That’s just the bullshit way of saying yes,” Daniela rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t matter if she’s your ‘ex’ or whatever.” 
“Look, Daniela—” 
“I know we aren’t serious or whatever, but I don’t really feel like dealing with someone else’s ex drama.” 
“There’s no drama. I don’t even speak to her anymore.” 
“And yet you ditched me to go and help her out with something earlier.” 
“It’s not like that. And it was also an emergency.” 
“So you said.” 
Ellie wasn’t sure why she felt the need to explain herself to a girl she barely knew. Part of her felt compelled to do so as if she could continue to actively ignore her feelings by saying these things out loud. 
Another awkward moment of silence. 
“God, you’re such a fuckboy, Ellie.” 
“Hey, what the fuck—” 
“You know that you can get girls and do, but you just like to fuck around with them and play with their feelings.” 
“First of all, you said yourself that we’re nothing serious. We’ve barely even done anything.” Ellie said defensively. “Second, I literally just said that I don’t even talk to her anymore! Not even tonight!” 
Ellie scoffed as Daniela rolled her eyes once more. 
“Look,” Ellie continued through gritted teeth. “I’m sorry that I was late tonight. And I get it if your feelings are hurt. But nothing’s happening between me and my ex.” 
“You just said that she wasn’t your ex.” 
“Sh-she’s— she’s not, she’s—” 
“Yeah, yeah,” Daniela muttered as stood up from her bed. “At this point, I’m over it, and I really don’t give a fuck anymore. You’re hot and all, Ellie. But this is not worth it.” 
She popped an AirPod in her ear once more and sauntered over to the door. 
“Word of advice. Figure out your feelings for this ‘ex’ of yours and decide if you actually wanna be with her or not before getting involved with anyone else. Nobody deserves that hanging over their head, especially when you’re so clearly still in love with her.” 
And with that, Daniela opened the door and peered expectantly. Ellie took the hint and walked in her direction and through the doorway. Before Ellie could fully turn around and give any parting words, Daniela shut the door in her face. 
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Present 
Ellie collapses onto her bed next to Joel’s old motorcycle jacket. She pulls her phone out again, contemplating calling Jesse and Dina once more. But realizing they’ll probably call her if they have anything important that they feel she needs to know, she drops the phone down to her side in defeat. 
She continues to lay in her bed for a while, stewing in her unresolved feelings with nobody to confide in. Closing her eyes, her mind begins to race against her will with reminders of the path life led her down after you. 
First was Marisol. Less than two months into sophomore year of college, Jesse and Dina were completely aghast to see Ellie walking down campus with a girl they’d never seen her with before. She was in Ellie’s Aerospace Engineering class, and Ellie had claimed to have had an eye on her since last year. Jesse and Dina watched helplessly as their friend flaunted her new girlfriend around for the next couple of months. 
Ellie wasn’t initially sure what it was that attracted her to Marisol in the first place. She was naturally beautiful with her long, black hair and slender figure, and she was the textbook definition of a perfect girlfriend. It took two and a half months of overly extravagant dates and bouquets of Marisol’s favourite flowers and late nights spent at her dorm room for Ellie to understand what it was about Marisol that she was drawn to: it was her eyes. Down to the specks in her irises and how her eyelids curved, Marisol’s eyes resembled yours far too well. After coming to this harrowing realization, Ellie quickly broke things off with her tactlessly and with a mostly untrue justification. 
The next was Luz who she had met during her near-daily workouts at the gym with Jesse. Ellie spent several autumn weeks with them, allowing Luz to whisk her about to different parties with different groups of friends every weekend. But one fateful night when they had dragged Ellie to a party at the same Sigma Eta frat house where you’d both first met, a bad acid trip cemented the end of her time with Luz. 
As Ellie’s dilated pupils focused intensely on Luz’s black boots, a pair very similar to your favourites, she felt a sensation begin to roughly tug at something inside her. From her spot on the living room couch, her eyes darted up to a spot by the wall where a small group of partygoers were congregating. She zeroed in on a random girl she’d never seen before whose multi-coloured features, as a result of LSD brain fog, began to morph into those of someone she was desperately trying to forget. Once the last parts of the stranger’s face had fully formed to impersonate yours, she abruptly stood up from her slouched position on the couch, muttered an excuse to Luz about using the bathroom, and desperately begged Jesse to come pick her up immediately. After Jesse helped her click on her seatbelt in the passenger seat with a tight-lipped expression where he fought the urge to remind her of the significance of this house, Ellie never looked back, swore never to trip on acid again, and subsequently ghosted Luz after that night. 
A couple of weeks before winter break, she met a sweet and quiet girl named Simi. They met through a dating app during one of Ellie’s crossfaded swiping sprees at 2 in the morning. Ellie’s affair with her was extremely short-lived, ending things with her a day before everyone left campus to head home for the holidays. While spending the day hanging out at Simi’s dorm room as her new girlfriend packed for her trip home, Ellie suddenly and unfairly started a fight with her after Simi had begun to mindlessly sing the song “Merry Christmas Darling” under her breath. 
Ellie had unkindly demanded for her to “shut up” immediately, understandably hurting Simi’s feelings. The fight was short and confusing, as Ellie had refused to elaborate on her sudden explosion. As she unceremoniously marched out of the dorm room, Ellie aggressively tried to suppress memories of you singing that same Carpenters song on a loop all of December of the previous year. You’d claimed you couldn’t get it out of your head and needed to sing it out loud at least fifty times a day so you could stop thinking about it. Though Ellie had playfully cussed you out and thrown several pillows at you on multiple occasions, that song now belonged to you forever and nobody else. 
After Simi were strings of countless others, some who had used Ellie as their college lesbian experience and many whose names Ellie would never be able to recall. She never hooked up with the same person more than twice, never took another one out for an actual date until Daniela. 
Ellie had found Daniela incredibly pretty when she’d first laid eyes on her on a warm September afternoon earlier in the year. She was lounging on the quad as Dina did her homework and Jesse lazily strummed his guitar when a group of other freshmen walked by. Ellie hadn’t spared them a glance until one of the girls approached her, all shy and giggly, and said that one of her friends found Ellie very cute. After pointing Daniela out and asking for her number, Ellie shrugged and relented. She ignored Dina and Jesse’s identical judgmental looks and eye-rolls in her peripheral vision. 
Ellie enjoyed the undivided attention of someone completely enamoured by her. Daniela was constantly responsive, did whatever Ellie wanted to do, and was always so eager to please her. Ellie’d bring her to the movies, go on long drives with her in her Jeep, take her to whatever restaurants she’d want to eat at. 
To anyone who keenly observed when they were together, it was quite obvious who was far more invested between the two. Despite spending an ample amount of time with her in the past month or so, Ellie continued to keep Daniela at arm’s length. On multiple occasions when Ellie’d convinced Jesse and Dina to allow Daniela to accompany them, the long-time couple would watch how disconnected their friend was from this new girl she’d been seeing. Dina would give Jesse a raised eyebrow look that silently would ask, “Is she really serious?” to which Jesse would give her a tight-lipped, wordless grimace that replied with “We both know she’s a fucking dumbass.” They both placed bets on when exactly Ellie would eventually ditch this new girlfriend. 
Unbeknownst to them, it’s Ellie who was so easily discarded this time around. Feeling so unmoved about the split with Daniela, Ellie tries to feel some kind of guilt over her lack of reciprocation. It’s her own actions, after all, that landed her dumped in the first place. She’s never fully seen Daniela as an actual girlfriend, and she knows fully well that she shouldn’t have strung her along. 
But as she continues to lay in her bed, ocean green eyes shut and a hand woven through her auburn locks, she thinks of only you. 
Ellie can’t remember a single moment in her life when she’s felt more in need of another person’s company than she does at this very moment. Unable to trouble Dina to be her listening ear as she always is or bother Jesse to bluntly set her straight as usual, she feels the loneliness of the gloomy, dark room creep into her conscience. 
Her fingers begin to mindlessly search her bedsheets as she continues to stare at her decrepit bedroom ceiling, seeking for her silver joint box that had fallen out of her pocket when she’d collapsed on her bed. Instead of the feel of cold metal, her hand comes across something smooth and warm. Pulling the brown leather jacket up to her face, Ellie’s mind murmurs a single word. 
Joel. 
She pulls her phone out to search for her father’s face within her favourite contacts. She hesitates for a moment but pushes herself to call. 
Joel picks up after only two rings. 
“Ellie? Jesus, kiddo, what the hell time is it?” 
“Hello to you too, old man.” Ellie chuckles. 
“Everythin’ alright?” Joel’s voice asks, tired but urgent. 
“Y-yeah. Yeah, I guess.” 
Ellie can almost hear her father sitting up straight in bed. 
“What’s wrong, Ellie?” 
“I-I…” She stutters. “Joel…” 
With a whimpering tone, she suddenly recounts the night’s events in complete detail. Her father listens attentively, only ever interrupting with sharp intakes of breath and hushed, imperceptible asides. After listening to his daughter’s sorrowful spiel, he finally speaks. 
“Oh, baby girl…” Joel utters. “I truly am sorry. It’s been a real rough night for all of y’all.” 
“Yeah…” 
“That poor kid… I’m glad she had you three lookin’ out for her tonight.” 
Ellie says nothing to this, pursing her lips. 
“How about you, Ellie?” Joel continues. “How are you feelin’ after everythin’ that’s happened?” 
“I-I’m not really sure. I’m not sure I know how to feel.” 
“That’s okay. You don’t have to just yet. It just happened and all.” 
“All I feel is so much fucking guilt, Joel. It feels like my mind is empty but overflowing all at the same time. I feel so motherfucking powerless and I don’t know what to do.” 
There’s a moment of silence before her father speaks again. 
“You given any thought to the conversation we had before you left for school, kiddo?” 
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Last August: Jackson 
Ellie’s bedroom was full of boxes and bags packed with everything she planned to bring to college for her junior year. The space was slightly more barren, closet mostly empty and trinkets missing from her shelves. It was only a couple more days before she, Dina, and Jesse would be making their journey back to their university, and she was uncharacteristically ahead of schedule. 
Leaning against her desk with a box full of comic books on the floor next to her, she was casually perusing an old graphic novel when Joel appeared in her open doorway. 
“Knock, knock.” 
“The door’s open, old man. Also, you can literally just walk in, you know.” 
“Who raised you to have so much cheek against your elders, kid?” 
“You, dude.” 
The pair smirked at each other’s smart-mouthed retorts. 
“Need any help packin’ up?” 
“Nah. It’s pretty much done except for a handful of essentials.” 
“Including that book you’re holdin’ right now?” 
“Like I said: essentials.” 
Joel chuckled. 
“Well, the Changs sent over some dinner for us, if you want some. Wisa made K-kaw… Khao Tom Pa… no, Plah…” Joel stuttered, making an effort to pronounce the Thai dish correctly. “Khao Tom Plah, that’s it. She brought some over earlier, thought we might want some. She even made it without the prawns, just the way you like it.” 
“Sick. She’s the best. I’ll text Jesse later to thank her.” 
“Good.” 
Joel lingered as Ellie went back to reading her comic, wistfully looking around his daughter’s nearly vacated bedroom. His eyes fell on a small box sitting at the foot of Ellie’s bed. It was an ordinary, cardboard box just as the others were, except it was heavily sealed with multiple layers of silver duct tape. He frowned. 
“Still plannin’ on bringin’ that box?” 
“What do you mean?” Ellie asked, knowing exactly what her father was referring to without looking up. 
“You know you can just leave it here at home, right? It ain’t like I go through your doohickeys when you ain’t here.” 
“So you do go through my shit when I am here?” 
“Ellie.” 
“What?” 
“Why the hell are you doing this to yourself, kid?” 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
“We’ve been having this same conversation for the past year now.” 
Ellie finally peeled her eyes away from her graphic novel, tossing it on the desk behind her and crossing her arms. 
“You’re the one who keeps bringing it up, Joel.” 
“I bring it up because I know that you ain’t been talkin’ about these feelings with anyone. It’s been a year since you ditched that poor girl, and you’re still sulkin’ over it.” 
“She ditched me.” 
“Hold your horses; we both know that ain’t true.” 
“What do you want from me, old man?” 
“I want you to be happy, kiddo.” 
“What makes you think I’m not happy?” 
“Now, don’t try to bullshit me. You can grumble and deny it ‘til the cows come home, but even after all this time, all you ever do is brood and pine after that girl. Plain as day to anyone. You ain’t been the same since y’all broke up.” 
“We weren’t together.” 
“Yes, you were.” 
Joel ignored his daughter’s subsequent eye-roll before continuing. 
“You still have the box, Ellie.” 
“I just forgot I even had it.” 
“And yet, you’re bringin’ it to school with you, just like you did last year. Why?” 
“It was just in my closet stuffed in with all this other shit I don’t touch. Had to take it out while I was packing.” 
“That ain’t amount to a hill o’ beans. And you still ain’t answer my question.” 
“Sorry, dude.” 
“Ellie. You and I would down to Beacon Run all the damn time back when you were growin’ up. You used to beg me to go for dinner whenever you had a hankerin’ to order that cheesy crab dip with all those chips and jalapeños and such.” 
Ellie raised her eyebrow, unsure where her father was going with this. 
“Then all of a sudden, a few years ago, you seemed to hate the place. You’ll maybe get some fries and nothin’ else. Matter of fact, I can’t, for the life of me, recall the last time I’ve seen you eat a plate of seafood with any kind of shellfish in it.” 
Joel’s greying eyes pierced Ellie’s ocean green. 
“Two years.” He continued. “It’s been two years. You almost never eat any kind of seafood no more, and even the Changs never cook us anythin’ that has shrimps or scallops or anythin’ of the like.”
Joel watched as his daughter stubbornly struggled to justify herself. He sighed sadly. 
“I wish you’d let yourself be happy, Ellie. You could be.” 
“That so? How do you figure that?” 
“First step is admitting exactly what is clear as day to everyone around you.” 
“Oh, yeah? And what is that?” 
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Present Day 
“J-Joel… I-I…” Ellie sobs. “I love her.” 
“I know, baby girl.” 
Joel helplessly listens to his daughter’s desperate weeping from the other end of the line. 
“So,” He eventually asks in between her snivels. “What now?” 
“It doesn’t matter.” She sniffs. 
“Kiddo, why do you think your feelings don’t matter?” 
“Because relationships do not work for me. Love doesn’t work for me.” 
“Your relationship with her didn’t work. Past tense. It’s been years. It was a tough situation. You’re a different person now.” Joel clarifies. “And there’s plenty love ‘round you, kiddo. You got a lotta love in your life. I need you t’realize that.” 
“Except I-I’m not a different person, Joel. I-I am just an older, slightly more experienced version of myself. I-I…” Ellie stutters. “I’m afraid.” 
“Of course you are, kid. It’s only natural.” Joel replies. “But you can’t live your whole life closed off from the rest of the world. You need and deserve love, Ellie.” 
“Except I don’t, Joel! I fucking don’t!” She cries. “God, y-you just, you just don’t understand!” 
“What don’t I understand?” 
“She almost fucking died!” Ellie nearly screams. 
A silence falls between the two, only broken by Ellie’s hot and angry tears noisily dropping onto the old leather jacket. She grips it tightly in one hand before continuing. 
“I-if… if none of it happened… if I d-didn’t do all that to h-her all those years ago…” She stutters between shaky lips. “M-maybe she wouldn’t be where she is now. She wouldn’t have gone on a date w-with someone who didn’t know about…” 
Ellie chokes back a sob. 
“I-I… I would have known. I would have t-taken care of her. I would never have—” 
“Ellie.” 
“She needed me, and I… I let her down. Not just tonight. All those years ago. I couldn’t be what she needed. I fucking failed her.” 
“It’s not that simple, kid.” 
“Yes, it is! Her cousin fucking died! He was her whole fucking world, and she loved him more than anything, and he fucking died and I… I ran. I abandoned her.” 
The blurry memory of your sleeping figure in the passenger seat of Ellie’s Jeep appears in front of her, wrapped up cozily in her flannel as she drives you home from Jackson and naive to what lies ahead. 
“I know… I know what I’m capable of, Joel. I loved her so much all those years ago and… I still hurt her. I hurt her so fucking badly.” 
Your image transforms to one of you awake and livid, Ellie’s flannel torn off and tears streaming down your face. Anger and betrayal are etched all over your face, just like they were all those years ago. The shame she’d felt back then is incomparable to what she feels now. 
“I don’t ever want to do that to her again, ever. I just can’t. I won’t.” 
Joel sighs deeply before finally speaking. 
“Ellie. That fear is always gonna be there. But you’re young, and we make plenty of mistakes in our youth. God knows how much of my past I used to regret.” 
Ellie takes deep breaths as her father continues to speak. 
“Everythin’ that happened tonight? None of it was your fault. In fact, I reckon you’re the reason she’s still livin’ and breathin’ right now. I’m proud of you for that.” 
“All I did was—” 
“All you did was save her life.” 
Ellie sniffles but doesn’t respond. 
“Look, kiddo,” Joel continues. “As someone who has known you for a very long time, I know how much of a good heart you got. You’re a loving person who deserves love. I wish you could believe that.” 
The sound of people entering through the front door echoes all around the empty apartment, but Ellie hears nothing else but the sound of her own agonized sobs. 
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author’s notes:
belle posting TWO chapters of ncty within less than two weeks of each other??? what is this, may 2023???
saury for not posting this right away like promised yesterday, like i said, going thru some shit rn! but i hope y'all enjoyed regardless ♥︎
i'll give you a kiss on the mouth if you guess the bollywood movie i vaguely reference at the beginning of the chapter :)
the idea of reader being allergic to shellfish and going into anaphylactic shock came to me one day a while back when i was eating something with shrimp and randomly remembered that i am very allergic to shellfish and instead of being like, "i should go take some medicine immediately", i thought, "hmm this would be a wild plot point for ncty" LMFAOOOO
anyway, this is your reminder that if you have an epipen, don't be stupid, bring that shit with you wherever you go sldkfjsdl
the more of jesse that i include in this series, the more i enjoy writing him. he's such a fun character to write hehe
i thought having abby sipping on some hot, black coffee when ellie fucking canonically hates coffee was so hilarious, i pat myself on the fucking back for that one
yes i also pat myself on the back for the line regarding ellie's ocean green eyes and abby's sky blue ones. i fucking love parallels and symbolism. i'm a whore for them, in fact.
btw dina doesn't respond to ellie's phone call bc her phone died (prob from facetiming ellie for that long earlier in the night) and idk, jesse's either not paying attention or being petty LMFAO
the reappearance of barbie bearrrrr, my babyyyy. idk if y'all remember, but yes, barbie bear is a reference to the actual stuffed pink bear i sleep with every night named barbie. i had planned since chapter 4 (which is the chapter barbie bear is first mentioned) for ellie to have had her this whole time because i'm a fucking lunatic LOL
i mentioned in the author's notes section of the last chapter how reader's letterwriting hobby is inspired by me irl cause i do that all the time for friends, but reader's letter in this chapter is actually loosely based on a letter that soulmate ex wrote me, it's not word for word exactly, i altered it a bit to fit the story better, but it's very close because i'm INSANE, anyway
yes "i think i love you again" is on my playlist about my ex-girlfriend and "merry christmas darling" is on his playlist for me, go away
ellie's clear aversion to taylor swift is both a reference to a previous chapter where jesse subtly mentions her dislike for her and also to my personal belief that ellie really would not like her as a person or an artist at all irl lmfao
the names of all of ellie's ex gfs or whatever are inspired by something very specific but that's another heehee secret trivia that nobody else but me will ever know about (let's be real, i'll prob tell star later LOL)
i named jesse's mom after one of my fave co-workers hehe (and the dish she makes for them is thai bc my co-worker is from thailand)
ellie's declaration of love about reader that she makes to joel has also been a long time planned now, idk why i knew it was gonna be chapter 13 when i did it, but i just knew it was. it was always the plan for her to confess it out loud to joel first, above anyone else
the final conversation between ellie and joel is heavily inspired by a scene from one of my fave tv shows, crazy ex-girlfriend. the scene makes me bawl every time i watch it. please watch crazy ex-girlfriend. so good.
we really are thirteen chapters into this series, huh? crazy. anyway, love y'all. <3
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eiightysixbaby · 4 months
Text
i’ll be home for christmas
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PART ONE: Last Christmas
series masterlist || next part
word count: 5.8k
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: you feel like you’ve been floating through life since eddie left town last christmas. what are you supposed to do when everything reminds you of him, and christmas doesn’t feel the same anymore?
cw: switches between past and present tense, angst angst angst, reader’s nickname is ‘sunny’.
author’s note: i cannot express how excited i am to finally be sharing the first part to this story! i have truly poured every possible ounce of my energy into this and i really hope it shows. thank you in advance for reading, i hope you all enjoy it as much as i’ve enjoyed writing it.
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Present Day: December 17th, 1989.
Snowflakes swirl around your face, dancing in front of your nose before being whisked away in a flurry of cold air. It’s not snowing hard — just enough to make Hawkins feel more magical. You stuff your hands into your coat pockets, eagerly awaiting the steaming cup of coffee you’re headed for. Behind you, Nancy pleads with Mike to put a hat on because his ears are bright red from the cold, and of course he doesn’t listen. Stubborn as usual. Steve calls him a little shit, and you roll your eyes to yourself as they bicker. You can’t quite bring yourself to laugh, though, and you don’t turn around to join in on the teasing like you usually would. Your eyes are angled down, watching as your boots press imprints into the dusting of snow that coats the pavement beneath you.
“I always thought Hawkins looked its prettiest when it’s snowing,” Robin’s voice says from behind you, getting clearer as she jogs to catch up to you.
Your shoes scuff against the frosty sidewalk, a little hum leaving you as you glance around at the town center. The storefronts are all decorated for the upcoming holiday, strings of garland and pretty green wreaths with red ribbon hanging on every door. Cheery window displays with Santa Claus and artificial Christmas trees liven up the shops. Shiny red and gold baubles hang from bare trees, string lights wrap around ornate light poles and coil up until they kiss the big red bows that are tied around the tops.
Robin’s right. It is pretty. The snow makes everything even more picturesque, like you’re living in a town inside of a snow globe. This could be the setting of a holiday movie, as far as you’re concerned. You’ve always loved Christmas, it’s always been the happiest time of the year for you. This year, though, is different. The warmth and joy you usually feel every December is gone, left behind on a snowy night last year. Robin senses your sadness, of course she does, because she’s sensed it just about every single time it’s crept up on you over the course of the last 12 months. Ever the empath, that one.
“Hey, I know it’s hard for you this year, kid,” she says, softer now, resting a gentle hand on your shoulder as you walk side-by-side. Her vibrant blue eyes catch yours, studying you carefully. “You know we’re feeling it too. And we’re all here for you,” she adds, nodding in the direction of the rest of your friends.
Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, and the kids all trail behind you, spread out on the sidewalk. You know they’re all feeling the difference of this holiday, too. In their own ways, they’re hurting too. You know you’re not the only one. You almost feel selfish, but you know that’s not what your friends would want, so you try your best to shove it down.
“I know, Rob. Thank you. I promise I’m not trying to be a downer,” you say, taking a shaky inhale. Crisp, cold air fills your lungs, the icy chill almost burning.
“No, hey, don’t do that. You’re not being a downer. We’re gonna have you all merry and bright in no time,” she says with her signature pretty smile, but you feel like she’s trying to reassure both you and herself as she says it.
You hope she’s right. You long to break free from the shackles of the numbness that’s clung to you this entire year. A certain someone’s absence that’s left you feeling hollow.
You reach the coffee shop, holding out a gloved hand to open the door for your friends. You trail in behind everyone, warm air hitting you in a comforting wave, like a blanket wrapping around your frame. The entire place smells like fresh coffee grounds and hints of vanilla, and you inhale deeply, letting it envelope you.
You vaguely hear Dustin and Max arguing about whether hot chocolate or coffee is the better hot beverage, before your ears tune in to the Christmas music playing over the speaker. “I’ll Be Home For Christmas” rings out in the small space, and you feel as though you’ve been punched in the gut as the soothing voice croons through the sound system. What should be a happy, comforting song only adds salt to your wounds, and if you had any say here you’d turn it right off. It reminds you of all of the things you wish you could forget, reminds you that you won’t be spending this Christmas with the person you should be. Longing coils its way around your heart, squeezing tight enough you feel it could shatter.
“What’re you gonna get?” Jonathan asks from beside you, bringing you out of your head as you realize you’d been staring aimlessly at the menu.
“Huh? Oh, um, probably a vanilla latte. Boring, I know,” you give him a little smile, the best you can muster, which he returns.
“Nah, it’s a classic. Can’t go wrong,” he says, walking towards the waiting cashier to go and order.
He orders his drink and yours, paying for both before you can get a word in edgewise. “Jonathan—” you start as you both move to the side to wait for your items.
“Don’t offer to pay me back. It’s my treat, okay?” he insists, giving you a knowing look. It’s his way of trying to cheer you up, to bring that holiday spirit back to life inside of you.
You and Jonathan had been friends for years now, he’d been a part of the group since the beginning, but only in this past year did you become especially close. He’d been such a big support system for you, letting you vent when you needed to and only offering advice when you explicitly asked for it. He’s an exceptional listener, the perfect confidant, and you’re grateful for his friendship. You’re grateful for the whole gang — their warmth and consistent companionship making everything easier for you.
Jonathan tells you to go sit with the others, assuring you that he’ll collect the drinks and bring them over to the table. Coats and scarves and gloves are discarded, hung on the coat rack that’s nestled in the corner right behind the two tables Nancy chose for you all. She sits next to Robin, the taller girl draping an arm over the back of Nancy’s chair, fingertips brushing her shoulder affectionately through her fluffy sweater. You sit across from Steve, opting for the seat closest to the window so you can look out. Max, Dustin, Lucas, Will, and Mike all sit at their own table, animatedly chatting about the Secret Santa gift exchange they’re doing. You giggle lightly when Dustin accidentally reveals that he’d drawn El’s name, the table immediately grilling into him and roaring with laughter.
Jonathan sits down beside you with the drinks and you immediately grab your cup, the warmth from it soothing your hands. You slip into easy conversation; talking about what Christmas gifts you all still have to buy and coming up with a plan for the group Christmas party, discussing your jobs and all of the usual things.
“And so I’m banging on the bathroom door, right? Yelling at Steve to come help me with this customer,” Robin rambles animatedly, her hands flying as she tells a story from work. “He comes out of the bathroom, and the fucking button on his pants pops off. His pants literally fall down around his ankles in the middle of the bakery. I’m peeing myself laughing at this point, the customer is still angrily waving his fist at me—” she keeps talking, you know she does, but your attention is diverted elsewhere in the midst of her anecdote.
A car horn honks outside, making you turn your head towards the commotion just in time to see a van pull up at a stop light outside of the coffee shop. A van that makes your heart feel like it’s plummeted to the bottom of your stomach. A Chevy, a deep burgundy in color with a cream stripe running along the side. You feel your mouth go dry as you’re plagued with a flood of memories. You vaguely register Jonathan and Nancy’s laughter towards Robin, you know you should be laughing too, but your mind is already far away from this moment — transported somewhere else. Back to a year ago. Back to Eddie.
Christmas Eve, 1988.
You hoist yourself up into the van, a smile on your face as you sit down, instantly pressing your hands to the air vents to try and warm them up. You’re buzzing from the party at Steve’s, waving enthusiastically to the host in question as he closes the front door to his house. Eddie had insisted on warming the vehicle up for you while you said your goodbyes to everyone, and he watches you from the driver’s seat as you buckle your seatbelt.
“So, where are you taking me, handsome?” you ask, barely able to contain your joy.
“You’ll see,” he says, giving your hand a squeeze. He shoots you a smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes, but you shake it off easily, assuming he’s just getting tired. You know you were.
Snow flies sideways in the beams of the headlights, those big, fluffy flakes that have always been your favorite. You drive past houses decorated like something out of a scene from a movie; rainbow lights coiled around bushes and pine trees, white bulbs lining rooftops and candles glowing in windows. Every door seems to don a wreath with a big red bow, and even some snowmen wave at you with their stick arms, mittens held high in the air.
It’s magical, that’s the only word you could use. Your heart feels like it could burst out of your chest, giddy like a child again. Christmas music plays on the radio and Eddie hums along to it beside you, making you want to grab him and kiss him and just never let go. What you two had going on was unlabeled, at the moment, but the tension between you was tangible. Your seemingly upcoming relationship had become the butt of the affectionate jokes in your friend group, the gang being less than subtle about what they expected from you and Eddie. And they didn’t even know about the kiss yet…
Being with him felt like everything good in the world, wrapped in a tiny package and sealed with a bow. Sometimes he would look at you like he loved you, and sometimes you felt like you loved him. There was no rush, no hurry, no deadline with Eddie. You let things flow naturally, progress gradually as you enjoyed getting closer and closer with one another. You’re feeling like tonight might be the night, like he might finally ask you to be his.
The van drives across snowy backroads, a dense layer of trees on either side. You know exactly where you’re headed now, hands rubbing on your thighs in an absentminded fidget. It’s not long until you pull up beside Lover’s Lake; your usual spot, your special spot. There’s a lonely dock leading out to the water, a dock that you’ve spent many a night sitting at while you gazed at the stars with the curly haired boy. It, too, is decorated for the holiday now, strands of lights twisted around the railings, illuminating the surrounding frozen water.
Eddie puts the van in park, killing the engine before his door swings open with a reluctant creak. You open your own door, only to be met with him extending a hand for you to take, helping you down onto the icy ground. You tug your hat further down over your ears, slipping your gloves out of your coat pocket and onto your hands. Eddie’s grabbed a blanket from the back of the van, tucking it under his arm. You can see your breath with every exhale as your boots crunch through the dirt and grass, walking to the dock with Eddie right in front of you.
The blanket is laid out on the old wooden planks, serving as a buffer between you and the cold, frozen surface of the dock. You gaze out at the vast expanse of the lake, a few lights twinkling on the opposite shore. You reach for Eddie’s hand, giving his fingers a squeeze before just holding them, your gloves providing him with some extra warmth.
“I have something for you,” he says then, taking you by surprise.
“Eddie, I thought we were exchanging gifts tomorrow—” you start, but he doesn’t let you finish.
“This couldn’t wait,” he insists, and his eyes hold an emotion you can’t place.
Is this it? Is he going to ask you to be his girlfriend?
His hand fumbles around in his coat pocket before he finds what he’s looking for, retrieving a tiny velvet box. A dainty ribbon is wrapped around it, tied with a bow on the top, and you gasp a little when you see it. He hands it off to you, watching as you delicately pull the knot loose, setting the shiny ribbon in your lap. You open the box with so much care, a hand flying to cover your mouth when you see what waits for you.
A beautiful gold necklace with a heart pendant rests on the silky bunch of fabric inside the box. You lift the pendant with a finger, noticing an engraved ‘E’ in the center of the heart. The whole thing is dainty, not flashy, not too much, but yet more than enough.
“Eddie—” you breathe, tears pricking in your eyes as you meet his stare.
He looks nervous. He’s not smiling.
“I want you to have that so you never forget me, and how much you mean to me,” he says, scooting closer to you.
He pulls you to him, pressing his forehead to yours.
“I could never forget you, what do you mean?” you ask, clutching the box close to your body.
“Sweetheart, there’s something I need to tell you. And I need you to try and understand,” he says, and the words immediately make your stomach flip. You feel ill, and he hasn’t even told you what he needs to tell you yet.
You close the box, holding it even tighter, as if it could freeze this moment in time.
He pulls back just slightly, enough so he can look you directly in the eye. One hand rests on your cheek, the shockwaves of his touch reaching the deepest parts of your soul.
“I’m leaving Hawkins. Tomorrow,” he says finally, a shuddering breath leaving him.
And that was the moment your whole world shattered.
Present Day: December 17th, 1989.
You’re torn from your memories at the feeling of Jonathan’s hand on your arm, his voice calling to you through the fog you feel floating in your brain.
“Sunny, hey, you okay?” he prods, concern evident on his face when you turn to look at him.
Nancy, Steve, and Robin look expectantly at you from the other side of the table, worried about where you’d drifted off to.
“Yeah, I— I’m fine,” you say, giving a smile that’s less than believable. “Sorry, just… thinking. Lots going on for the holidays, y’know?”
“Yeah,” Jonathan says, squeezing your shoulder as if to let you know he’s here for you.
He gives you that look he always gives you when he knows there’s something you aren’t telling him, he knows you too well. You feel bad lying to him, but you don’t want to bring up Eddie in front of the whole group right now. Robin was telling a funny story. Your friends deserve to laugh, to be happy. They don’t need your anguish. Saving face is the easiest option.
To your appreciation, they simply ease back into the conversation at hand. Your hand reflexively reaches up to your chest, grabbing at the small pendant that rests there. Your thumb runs over the engraving that you know is the letter E, your breath leaving you shakily. You take one final look out the window, the van from before now gone — much like the man it reminded you of.
You end up making an excuse to leave your friends early that day, no longer feeling able to force a positive attitude. You know they must be worried, know that they see through your facade, and guilt gnaws at your insides. All they’ve done is try and try to keep your spirits up, to help you move past everything, and you’re just stuck in the past. You haven’t exactly been easy to help, either. You miss Eddie, but every time he’s called you decline speaking to him. You can’t — certain that you wouldn’t even know what to say and that you’d just cry helplessly into the phone. And nevertheless your friends persist, always there when you need them and always willing to cheer you up. Plans are made with Nancy and Robin to bake Christmas cookies sometime soon — an offer you couldn’t possibly refuse at the way they so excitedly ask you to join them — before you bid everyone goodbye and part ways.
You stomp your snow-covered boots on the doormat just inside of your apartment, kicking them off haphazardly as the icy sludge begins to melt on the ground. You float around the space as you hang up your coat and remove your gloves, hat, and scarf, your body physically completing the actions but your brain residing somewhere else entirely. You curl up on your couch, wrapping yourself in your favorite blanket as you stare blankly at the black screen of your tiny television. The glow of your Christmas tree does nothing to soothe you — where it used to be a comfort, it now feels like a headache. You have half a mind to tear down all of your decorations, but you know it wouldn’t truly make you feel any better.
As if you weren’t sad enough already, as if the past eleven months haven’t been torturous enough, you really can’t get Eddie out of your head now. Seeing a lookalike van to his shouldn’t bother you, nearly a year later. Something so commonplace shouldn’t phase you. You press the heels of your palms to your closed eyes, willing your tears not to fall, willing yourself to forget him and forget it all and leave him in your past. You know it’s hopeless, you know you can’t possibly forget him, and it only makes you more frustrated.
One hand grips the pendant of your necklace, pulling roughly on the chain and making it snap. You toss it onto your coffee table, sobs wracking through your entire body now. Your fingers rest where the necklace once was, feeling the loss of him, something tangible. Laying down on the worn cushions, tears blur your vision as you cry, left alone to remember. And you remember everything.
Christmas Eve, 1988.
Your brows furrow, your brain not comprehending what he’s saying. “I don’t.. I don’t understand. What do you mean you’re leaving?”
“I found a place in Chicago. I can’t be in Hawkins anymore, Sunny, I’m sorry. I don’t… I don’t belong here. I need to go out on my own and make something of myself,” he says, wincing as if it pains him to speak about. You don’t have the grace in this moment to see that it does pain him. More than he can say.
“No…” you say, tears welling up in your eyes as you shake your head furiously. “No, this is a joke. This has to be a joke,” you try to convince yourself, moving to stand. Your chest feels tight, like all the air has been stolen from your lungs.
“Sweetheart—” Eddie says, standing with you, reaching an arm out to steady you when your boot slips on the icy dock.
“Don’t touch me!” you shout, louder than you’d ever wanted to be with him. “You can’t—” your voice breaks, your lip wobbling. “You can’t leave me.”
“I have to. You’ll be better off without me, okay? You have Nance and Robin, and Jonathan and Steve.”
“What about them?” you ask, voice quiet.
“What?”
“What about them? Did you tell them that you’re leaving? Did you tell the kids?”
“I… no. I need you to explain everything, okay? I didn’t want to ruin the Christmas party,” Eddie says, his eyes averting your gaze, shifting on his feet.
“Oh, but it’s okay to ruin my night? It’s okay to ruin my life?” you hiss. Eddie’s visibly taken aback by this, his eyes impossibly sad. You know the last part may have been too much, but you don’t care.
“You’re going to be fine without me,” he says, puffs of fog leaving his mouth with each word against the cold wind.
“What about us, Eddie!?” you cry, your throat raw with the way you scream it. “You’re going to act like this is nothing? Like we have nothing!?”
He doesn’t know what to say. He stands maybe two feet away from you, silent, his figure illuminated only by the string lights wound around the railings to the dock. His silence rings in your ears.
“So that’s it. You’re just going to go away, leave me here and forget about me,” your voice trembles, your feet stepping backwards as you start to distance yourself from him.
“I could never forget about you, I don’t want to forget about you!” he emphasizes, moving towards you. “You’re the only person I’ve told this to besides Wayne! Because I care about you far too much to just go,” he says, his voice breaking as he steps closer still.
“Oh, my hero,” you scoff, shaking your head as you wipe tears from your cheeks.
You turn on your heel and start running towards the van, your heart feeling like it’s being wrung out in your chest. The wind hurts your face, every snowflake that hits your skin pricking you like a needle.
“Sunny. Sunny!” he shouts after you, his shoes crunching on the frozen ground as he tracks you down. Hearing the nickname he’d so fondly given you ages ago — because you’re always ‘a ray of sunshine’ in his words — simply feels like he’s driving a knife through your heart now. “Please, I need you to understand—”
“How could I? How could you ask this of me!?” you sob, your defenses raised high. “I could’ve gone with you!”
“No! You need to be here, you’re happy here! You have friends and family and a job that you love — here.”
“You have friends here. You have Wayne, and you have me,” you say through gritted teeth, sniffling hard.
“I need to go. I need to get away from this town,” he says softly, mournfully. “Please…”
“Take me home, Eddie.”
“Baby—”
“Take me home! I don’t want to be near you any more, take me the fuck home!” you grit, pushing him away when he tries to hold you.
“Okay,” he sighs, defeated. “I’ll take you home.”
The ride to your place is alarmingly silent, your mind hazy as you stare blankly out the window. The happy hugging families and Christmas lights and snowmen mock you as you drive past, every joyful scrap of the holiday feeling like a sick joke now. Your stomach is in knots, your heart breaking inside of your chest with every passing second. You feel like you’re in a daze, like you aren’t even real.
His van finally pulls into the parking lot to your apartment, the snow swirling harder now in the glow of his headlights. It doesn’t look light and delicate as it had before, it doesn’t shimmer the way it used to. It looks foreboding, plummeting to the ground in fast, aggressive streaks.
“Sweetheart—” Eddie starts, and you scoff before he can keep going. Tears slide down your face as you shake your head, your lip wobbling.
“Don’t call me that. Don’t you dare call me that if you’re really about to leave me,” you say, voice thick with the bile that rises to your throat.
“I have to go. I’m so sorry. You’ll be better without me, I’m so sorry.”
“Goodbye, Eddie,” you say, so quiet he almost doesn’t hear it.
You open the passenger door, hopping out of his van for the last time. You’d climbed into this van a mere hour ago so hopeful that tonight he’d make you his, and instead he’s ripping it all away. You chance one final glance at his face, the defeated and empty expression that sits on it. It makes you want to crumble, fall to your knees right there on the snowy concrete and wail until your throat is raw. But you don’t give him the satisfaction, and you slam the door shut instead. The sound of it reverberates in your ears, making your head throb. The little velvet box sits in your coat pocket, your hand clutching it as you walk quickly to your building.
You barely process the fact that you reach your door, that you unlock it and step inside. You only process the hard floor beneath you as you sink down onto it on your knees. Sobs wrack through your body as you hunch over, gasping breaths making your chest shudder. Taking the little necklace box out of your pocket, you stare at it for a moment. Chest heaving, tears streaming down your face, you open the box. You take the necklace out, fumbling with it through your blurred vision. It somehow feels right to put it on, it feels like you need to put it on. It’s the only piece of Eddie that you have.
The pendant rests above your heart, your hand grasping it and clutching it tight. Through all of your anger and your hurt, there’s an unspoken love for Eddie, and there’s a part of you that clings to his gift like it’s a lifeline. Like maybe wearing the necklace could make him change his mind, like you could summon him. And so you sit, still in your coat and your scarf and your hat, curled in on yourself on the floor of your apartment as you cry. Letting yourself feel every ounce of emotion, cursing Eddie’s name for how alive he made you feel and how he’s taking it away in the blink of an eye.
Present Day: December 18th, 1989.
The next morning comes with a blanket of heavy snow, the sun rising over the sleepy streets of Hawkins and making the white powder sparkle. You’d hoped, nearly taken up some faith and prayed that after some sleep you’d feel better. That your problems could be washed away with the morning’s light.
Naïve? Maybe. Probably.
Because as soon as your alarm clock blared in your ears and you opened your tired eyes, you felt honestly worse than you had the night before. You feel as though someone has scooped up your insides, tossing them out and leaving you hollow as you lie in bed and stare at the ceiling.
The promise of coffee and the obligation of work is what gets you out of bed, your head instantly pounding when you stand up. Your feet slide into your cozy slippers as you trudge down the hallway to your kitchen, getting a pot of coffee started before moving to your living room. You go to pick up the television remote when something shiny catches your eye. The light reflects off of a gold pendant, making it sparkle.
Eddie’s necklace. Your necklace.
At least in your sleep you’d been able to forget that you had taken the necklace off. And in your post-sleep still-tired haze you’d been able to remain unaware, if even for a short while. You stare at it for a moment, tempted to put it back on. But then your puffy, sore eyes from last night’s sob-fest and the snot-covered tissues that litter the floor encourage you to leave it off.
All Eddie’s done in the last year is make you cry, so why should you wear his necklace every day? He doesn’t deserve it.
Or that’s what you try to convince yourself, at least, as you stomp into your room and hide the necklace away in your jewelry box. You can’t stomach looking at it for too long, desperately trying not to cry again. You’re not even sure if you have any tears left, or if the reservoirs have run completely dry. Shaking it off, you return to your living area, clicking the TV on and turning it to the news station.
“We sure got quite a bit of snow last night, and we’re definitely not the only ones!” the weatherman says, too perky for this early in the morning. “I was just recently in Chicago and, let me just say, be thankful that’s not us. Talk about a lot of snow!”
Chicago. Your eye twitches at the mention, and then the TV is promptly clicked off. Way to start your day strong.
You were hoping things would improve when you got to work, as your current job could barely even be called a job. Your front-desk position at the school was on hold for the winter break, but this year Hawkins Middle was sponsoring an ice skating event. A temporary ice rink was installed in downtown Hawkins, and you had offered to help run it. You’d mainly been in charge of skate rentals and serving up hot chocolate or coffee, and it was actually really fun most days. Chief Hopper had even been convinced to dress up as Santa, showing up on Fridays and Saturdays to greet the eager children.
Today, though, of course the world has to test you. You can hear kids shrieking and throwing tantrums before you can even fully see them, and as you walk in to the worker’s trailer you hear Vickie, one of the teachers at the middle school, getting royally bitched at by an impatient mother. Wincing, you put a hand on her shoulder when the woman leaves, signaling that you’re here to take over and rid her of misery.
“I’m warning you,” she says. “It’s crazy out there today.”
To make matters worse, on your drive here the first song you found on the radio was one of Eddie’s favorites. You had changed the station only to find another one of his favorites before turning the damn thing off entirely. Then, on the short walk from your car to the ice rink, you’d been walking behind someone who looked exactly like Eddie. The curly hair, leather jacket, white sneakers… it made your stomach turn. You were more disappointed than you wanted to admit when you saw his face and it, of course, wasn’t actually him.
It’s like Eddie was everywhere you went, an inescapable constant.
You just wanted to not be sad anymore. Your heart was tired of hurting, and you truly felt as though Christmas couldn’t be over and done with fast enough.
You try to put on a chipper attitude as you greet families, politely helping them get their skates and giving the kiddos your best tips and tricks for the ice. There’s a larger crowd than you’d expected today, everyone in town seemingly flocking over to grab some hot cocoa and go skating. You expertly maneuver between skate rentals and drink-making, insisting your other helper keeps an eye on the ice rink itself. It keeps you busy, at least, your brain pleasantly distracted by the chaos. In brief moments of downtime, you watch as wobbly children try to stay upright on the slippery rink, parents following close behind with outstretched hands, ready to steady them.
You’re putting skates back in their respective places when the door to the little trailer opens and shuts, a strawberry blonde head of hair lingering in your peripheral vision.
“Hey, Chrissy!” you greet her, setting out cups for the next round of cocoa orders. “How’s break been going for you?” you ask, smiling at her as she pulls off her earmuffs.
Chrissy was one of the cheer coaches for both the middle and high school, and you’d become friendly with her through school events and the like.
“Oh, you know, it’s going fine I guess….” she says, biting back a smirk as she stretches her arms out, hands splayed flat where she holds them in front of her.
You glance down, instantly clocking the sparkly diamond ring on her left ring finger. Eyes widening, you gasp, taking her perfectly-manicured hand in yours.
“No way. Jason proposed!?” you ask, watching as a pink lipgloss smile breaks out on her face and she nods.
Her and Jason had been the it couple for the majority of your high school career, and they’d still been going strong since graduation a few years back.
“Yes!! Can you believe it!? I had no. idea. he had this planned!” she squeals, her ponytail bobbing as she bounces slightly on her feet.
For some reason, it makes your heart feel like it’s about to crack beneath your rib cage. It shouldn’t, this isn’t about you, but the air is whisked from your lungs regardless.
“I— I’m so happy for you,” you say, stammering a little as you try to feign happiness. “Congratulations.”
“You okay?” she worries, her brows furrowing as she tilts her head at you. Her perky demeanor is gone, concern taking over her features.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine, sorry, I just feel a little weird. Haven’t eaten much today,” you lie, forcing a smile on your face. “Seriously, congratulations,” you say again, sighing in relief when she thanks you and walks back out of the trailer, going to check on everyone skating.
You slump against the counter, a lump forming in your throat. As much as you wish it didn’t, this only makes you think of Eddie. Again.
You can’t help but let your mind wander to what could’ve been if Eddie had stayed, if maybe in a couple short years he could be proposing to you. Last December you’d been so hopeful that the two of you would make things official soon, and when Eddie gave you that necklace you were nearly certain of it — for a moment, at least. What if he had been here, in Hawkins, this entire year? Surely you’d be spending Christmas together, decorating together and baking together and simply existing together. It feels like you’ve been robbed. All of your feelings for him have had no place to go, the adoration you boxed away clawing at your heartstrings desperately.
There’s a part of you that’s so envious of what Chrissy has, and there’s another part of you that feels guilty for that. It’s not her fault you’re broken, not her fault you’ve been a shell of your former self for months now. You’re too in your head, and before you know it you’re turning away from the service window, furiously wiping at the tears that have started to fall down your cheeks.
The rest of your day is spent the same way it started — the same way all of your previous days had been spent; thinking about Eddie Munson, and what could have been. If only you could change what happened last Christmas.
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writing-wh0re · 3 months
Note
AAAAH, I just saw you posting your prompts and your requests are open. I don’t know if you write them together or individually, but if you can (or if you can’t but you can write for one of them), could you do Fred and George with a Smutty prompt #3?
All writing will be #writing-wh0re-requests.
George Weasley x Reader x Fred Weasley
Word Count: 6,167 - I had so much fun writing this
Warnings: Smut18+, Unprotected Vaginal Intercourse, Female Performing Oral, Daddy Kink, Slight Choking Kink, Slight Slapping Kink (if you squint), Praise Kink, Slight Degration, Slight Breeding Kink, Spanking Kink. Slight cum kink. Use of pet names.
Basically its a very kinky smut and there's actually plot - look at me go.
A/n: Sorry I have been inactive, life am I right? But I'm getting a desk setup completed so I will be more fequent! I hope. I apologise for this being long, but I truly had so much fun writing this request. My love for the twins is reigniting. I will be fixing up my taglist as well / making a library blog for posts. I have written this smut differently to how I have in the past, let me know if you'd like a part 2!
Merry Christmas x
| | | |
Hogwarts was quiet the closer it got to Christmas, snow was gently falling and the gusts of wind were freezing. Most students went home for Christmas but this year was different for you. Your parents had decided to take a trip to get away from the wizarding world for a few months with no real timeline of coming back, it was something that shocked you but also didn’t surprise you. 
Fred and George had decided to not rush home right away, debating on whether or not to ask you to join them at the Weasley house for Christmas, not really sure of what your relationship was, if it was anything other than lust and desire. 
“You can’t sit alone in the common room for weeks, it’s Christmas.” George grumbled slouching down on the couch beside you.
“I’ll be fine, honestly, I have so many books I can read.” You gestured to the pile of books on the table that you had acquired from the library. “You two should head home, I’m almost certain your mum has made your favourite foods.” 
Fred smiles at the mention of his mum and her tradition of making something for everyone to enjoy. 
“You can come with us, we have a spare room and I’m sure mum would be overjoyed to finally meet our best friend.” 
Best friend
Although not untrue the word still seemed to pang your heart with disappointment. An on and off hook up to them doesn’t mean the same thing it does to you and that was something you were coming to terms with. 
Fred and George sensed the hesitation on you after Fred had dropped the best friend title, it was something they were yet to discuss with you, were you just best friends who fooled around? Or were you also wanting something more that you could all figure out together over time. 
“I don’t want to impose, you’ll have such a full house, isn’t Bill in the guest room this year?” 
George smirks, you do listen to every word they say. 
“What Freddie is saying is there will be a spare bed somewhere, we have two in our room and the couch downstairs, I’m sure something can be sorted.” 
“Mum already thinks you’re coming so hurry up and pack your things.” 
Your mouth falls open at Fred’s revelation, your eyes flick to George who smirks. 
“Go on, we leave in fifteen minutes.”
“I feel like there wasn’t much of a choice in this matter.” 
The twins chuckle as you pack your things up and run up to your dorm, searching your room for a bag to pack things into you. 
You quickly rush out of your dorm, running into the twins as you look up at them. Their eyes wander your face, a blush creeping up your neck. 
You look down at the floor, before George places his hand under your chin.
“Everything okay baby?”
Baby. 
You weren't quite sure how a simple nickname could make your stomach flip and your body tingle, but it did, especially coming for George and Fred. 
“Uh, um.” Your mind is foggy, unsure what you were originally rushing for. The twins smirk, sharing a quick look before your face lights up, having remembered what you wanted to ask. 
“How long are we gone for?”
“We will be coming back the week before term starts.”
“But we can come back earlier if you’d like.” 
“So three weeks?”
The twins nod as you spin and walk back into your dorm, them following behind you. You walk back and forth from your closet to your bed, where the twins have decided to lounge while you pack. Finding outfits is easy, finding lingerie works out to be a little harder under the gaze of the men on your bed. 
You quickly open your dresser draw, looking over the various colours of lace and matching sets. Quickly you grab a hand full and shove it into your bag, closing your dresser and zipping the bag closed. 
“Darling, you dropped something.” George whispers, moving past you and bending down to pick up your dark red G-string, blush creeps up your face, your stomach filling with butterflies as George passes the material to Fred who simply places it in your bag and rezips it. 
Your mind continues to rush, a million thoughts racing through your brain as the twins share a smirk before grabbing your bag from the bed. 
“C’mon love.” Fred holds your bag as he walks out of your dorm, George follows closely behind his eyes looking you up and down, sending a swift wink your way before holding his hand out, an invitation to take his. Which you do, almost embarrassingly fast. 
George squeezes your hand and pulls you along with him to follow Fred. 
| | | | 
After a few days at the Weasley home, you started to feel settled and a part of the family. Harry had joined the household on the same day as you, making you feel not so alone in the imposing feeling. No one was surprised to see you, they were excited to have another friend along for the celebration. Molly had made you feel so at home, hugging you when you first arrived, a feeling of warmth and comfort washing over you within her embrace. 
Over the past few days, Molly had shown you how to bake a few of her signature recipes, she had even gone as far as asking what your favourite food was, setting herself a goal of creating it for you come Christmas Eve. 
Being one day out from Christmas, Molly didn’t want to be disturbed in the kitchen, she needed her space and stated that everyone should go outside to play a friendly game of Quidditch, she emphasised the word ‘friendly’ mainly at the twins. 
So you sat on your broom beside Harry, waiting for everyone who was playing to fly into the air. 
“Have you played before?” Harry asks curiously, not knowing much about you, himself being two years younger. 
“Yeah, but I'm definitely not a pro.” You laugh as Harry smiles, looking out at the Weasley family. 
“I think they’re going to kick our ass.” 
“Oh without a doubt.” 
You and Harry share a smile, your eyes wandering to the golden ball, clearly not the shiny golden snitch but definitely close. The quaffle and bludgers fly through the air with a woosh sound, everyone going into game mode. You and Harry nod at each other, both taking the role of seekers before rushing into the air in search of the ‘snitch’. 
Within a matter of seconds the twins are behind you, chasing after you. You fly past the duo, diving down behind Harry who seems to have his eye on the golden ball. You quickly look over your shoulder, the twins hot on your ass. You notice the golden ball dancing between the twins. A smirk dances across your lips as you fly up higher just outside of the quidditch pitch, pulling up on your broom as the twins fly past you. They stop and look back at you as you flash them your bare tits. Both of them go wide eyed as you hold the golden ball between your hands, pulling your sweater back down. 
“Later losers” 
You turn your broom around, wiggling your ass as you dive down to the grass. 
“We won!” You scream, Ginny, Bill and Ron rush down to you, pulling you into a hug and cheering for your team as the rest of the players come to the ground. 
You make brief eye contact with the twins, a darkness in their eyes but clapping for your victory nonetheless. 
“Lunch is ready! C’mon darlings before the storm comes.” Molly gestures for everyone to come inside as you opt to help clean the game up, the twins staying behind with you. 
You bend down to pick up the spare brooms, your ass brushing against George’s crotch, your eyes locking onto Fred and sending him a wink. 
Fred stands in front of you, shielding you from the view of the house, George holding your hips, pulling you against his chest. Fred caresses your cheek, his head shaking. 
“Do that one more time and we’ll fuck you right here in front of everyone.” 
Your breathing hitches, your eyes never leaving Fred as he hooks one finger into the collar of your sweater, looking down at your bare tits. George slips one hand up into your sweater, groping your boob as you whimper, a shiver runs over your body at his cold finger tips. The fear of getting caught creeps up, a slight wetness running to your core. Fred tilts your head to look up at him, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip, your lips parting slightly. 
The twins smirk pulling away from you like nothing happened and begin grabbing the game equipment. 
They walk towards the home, not once turning back to look at you. Thunder rumbles through the sky as you quickly rush inside, not wanting to be left out in the oncoming storm. 
“There you are sweet girl, would you prefer peach or lemon tea?” Molly asks sweetly, smiling at you before worry washes over her. Molly places her hands on your cheeks and a slight frown on her face. 
“Y/n, honey you look flushed, are you okay?”
You heart hammers in your chest, those fucking twins. 
“I’m okay Molly, the wind just gets to me sometimes.” You smile, reassuring her as she pulls you into a warm embrace. You make eye contact with the twins, smug smirks on their face. 
“You tell me if you need anything, now, lemon or peach?” 
You nod at Molly, deciding on lemon tea before squeezing in between Fred and George at the table, conveniently the only spot left. You spin the pasta around the fork, thankful for a warm meal. Your body tenses slightly, feeling both Fred and George place a hand on your thighs. Both of them grab and squeeze the flesh, involuntarily rocking your hips at their touch. You quickly catch yourself, continuing to eat while the twins trace shapes and grip your skin. 
| | | | 
Not much continued to happen yesterday and today had mainly been taken up by Ginny and Molly asking for help with wrapping gifts, a cheeky idea coming into your mind as you pocketed a bit of red ribbon. 
Tonight was the big Christmas Eve feast, Mr Weasley had finished work early and everyone was told, multiple times, that dinner would be served at 7pm, not a minute over. Molly hadn’t made lunch today, wanting everyone to wait with anticipation for her multitude of amazing dishes, a favourite created for everyone in the home, including yourself and Harry. You had simply asked for baked honey carrots, which judging by the smell of honey filling the home, Molly had delivered. 
“Thank you girls, go get comfy while I finish up dinner.” Molly smiled, kissing Ginny’s head before ushering us away from the table so she could set it accordingly. 
“I’m going for a quick shower.” Ginny states rushing up the stairs in front of you. You duck into the twins room, looking over George’s messy bed and Fred’s mattress on the floor, thankful that you could share a room with them but lucky enough to score Fred’s bed. 
“Mum loves you.” I jump slightly at George's words not noticing him behind me. I smile, falling backwards on Fred’s bed. 
“I love her, she feels like home when she hugs you.” I whisper as George hums in agreement. 
Fred walks into the room, his hair dripping and a towel around his waist. I sit up slightly, resting on my elbows, my eyes shamelessly dragging over his toned body. 
“My eyes are here baby.” 
That fucking nickname.
“Oh I’m well aware.” I whisper, looking over at George quickly. “Remind me, do you look like that?” 
George smirks, pulling his shirt over his head, his body just as toned as Fred’s. 
I bite my lip, looking between the two shirtless twins. 
“Noted.” 
Fred locks the door behind him, resting against it. George stands from his bed, nodding at his brother before pulling me closer to the edge by my ankles.
“We’re sick of this game love.” 
“We know you want us.”
“Fuck, we want you.”
“That shit you pulled during the game.”
“Dangerous.”
“Slutty.”
“Showing off what’s ours to the whole family.” 
My breath hitches at their words, looking up at both of them towering over me on the bed. 
“I’m yours?”
The twins smirk, George leans down, his thumb brushing against my lip. 
“Should we remind you?”
“It’s been a long time, baby.”
“We forget what you feel like.”
“Sound like.” 
They emphasise their words by groping at your body. Your body tingles, wetness pooling between your thighs. 
Fred feels your pocket, pulling out the red ribbon with a smile. George smirks, tilting his head at me. 
“Are you our Christmas gift?” 
You open and close your mouth, simply nodding as they chuckle. 
“Don’t be shy, baby.”
“Yes.” You whisper, watching their every move. 
George smiles, leaning down and pulling you up from the bed, your chest against his, your back against Fred’s. 
“How lucky are we Freddie.” 
“Extremely.” Fred whispers, his hands gripping your ass. 
George leans down to your lips, his lips hovering over mine, your breath mixing as my eyes flick from his to his lips. 
“Please.” You whimper. 
George closes the distance between you, your lips moulding against each other. Fred kisses along your neck and shoulder, sucking on your weak spot as you moan into George’s mouth, allowing for his tongue to twirl with yours. 
“Be quiet baby.” George whispers as Fred captures your lips, his kiss just as soft as George, savouring every swipe of your tongue against each other. George’s hands slip under your sweater, a groan falling from his lips at your lack of bra, twisting your nipples. 
“Fuck daddy.” You whisper, both of the twins stopping briefly, as George grabs your hair pulling your face to him. 
“Say that again.”
“Daddy.” You whimper, your lips pouting, Fred moans, his hands spanking your ass.
“We’re going to ruin you.” 
Before anything more can happen you hear Molly shout up the stairs, letting you know dinner is served. 
“Fuck.” The three of you say in unison, the boys pull away from your body. Fred rushes around the room for clothing as George puts his sweater back on. 
George smirks at you, tapping your ass and nodding towards your hair. 
“Might want to fix that baby.”
“Don’t want everyone to know you’re our little slut.” Fred winks, both of them slipping out of the room, their footsteps bouncing down the stairs. 
Your fingers brush against your lips, a slight tingle against the flesh from their kisses. A smirk forming on your face, thankful for the last few minutes, a step in the direction you crave. 
After you fix your hair,you quickly bounce down the stairs, thankful you're not the last one as Harry and Ron rush in behind you.  
“Sit, sit dear.” Molly gestures to the space across from the twins, next to Ginny and Harry. You quickly sit as Molly places the last dish on the table. The house smells amazing, a mix of spices and hints of firewood from the stove. 
“Merry Christmas, I love all of you.” Molly smiles, kissing Arthur. “Including you two.” Molly gestures to Harry and yourself as you knock his shoulder, smiling at him. “Please, eat.” 
No one waits for Molly to say it twice, everyone serving themselves. George serves you a pile of honey carrots and Fred places a few roasted potatoes on your plate before continuing to serve themselves. A soft smile falls on your lips, the simple domestic gesture filling your heart, maybe this could work. 
Everyone is quiet while enjoying Molly’s food, the sound of knives and forks clicking together. You catch Molly’s eye as she enjoys watching her family sharing dinner together, only having this occur a few times within the year. Molly catches your eye and winks at you, scrunching her nose and smiling at you before taking a sip out of her wine glass. You smile back at Molly, a warmth washing over you at the small interaction. Your eyes flick to the twins in front of you, both of them almost finished with their meal. A cheeky thought pops into your mind as you shuffle on your seat slightly, dragging your foot up George’s leg. His eyes lock onto yours, he nudges Fred inconspicuously to get his attention before sitting back in his chair, his legs spreading wider as his older brother looks down at the chair quickly. You press your foot into George’s crotch softly noticing his body tense as Fred shakes his head, grabbing his cup and tipping the liquid into his mouth. You drop your foot from George and move it to Fred, not wanting him to feel left out. Fred grabs his napkin, wiping his mouth as he looks over at George and nods. A wordless conversation shared between the two as George smirks. 
“So Y/n and Harry, what subjects are you looking forward to most next year?” Molly asks, butterflies flip in your stomach, feeling like Molly caught you. You quickly drop your foot from Fred causing him to chuckle slightly, George takes a sip from his glass hiding his smirk at your reaction. 
“Defence against the dark arts, I’m sure I don’t have to explain why.” Harry states, causing a small chuckle to fill the air. 
“And Y/n?” Molly smiles. 
“Potions, I’m excited to create a few remedies for different conditions but also to help these two-” You quickly gesture to Fred and George who go wide eyed, you know Molly and Arthur don’t know about their ‘jokes’ yet but why not keep them on their toes. “With passing the subject. You know they don’t stir their cauldrons, they just expect it to work when you throw things into it.” 
Molly and Arthur chuckle, a smug smirk on your face at the panic you just gave the twins. 
“Oh that explains why their grades for positions are so high, we have you to thank.” Arthur chuckles as you nod, smiling at him. Little does he know, you have them to thank for your grades. 
You pick up your glass, taking a sip of the cinnamon eggnog, freshly made as Molly questions her kids about what they’re most looking forward to. You only half listen, your mind occupied by the pair of redheads in front of you, your mind filled with ideas on what you want to do to them and them to you. Thankfully for such a great break. 
| | | | 
The night flew by, Molly handed out one gift to her kids, including yourself and Harry. Molly stated it was something to wear for Christmas day breakfast and to not fuss over opening one present early. She asked everyone to open them at the sametime, to which you did and found yourself with a handmade sweater with your first initial on the front, everyone had one. You held the fabric close to yourself, knowing you would hold onto this for the rest of your life. 
Fred and George hadn’t spoken to you since dinner, opting to hangout with their brothers and Harry while you and Ginny gossiped on the couch. Ginny was confiding in you about her crush on Harry and how Dean had been sending her letters since he left for break. You hadn’t noticed when the room dwindled down to just yourself, Ginny and Harry. Upon noticing and remembering what Ginny had said, you excused yourself, leaving the two of them alone which caused Ginny’s cheeks to heat with a rosy blush. 
You quickly went up the staircase, noticing how much quieter the house was the further you climbed. You slip into the twins room, hearing soft snores, noticing Fred’s asleep on the spare mattress on the floor. You look to George’s bed and see it's empty. You can hear the faint running of water, a small idea popping into your head. You walk over to the bathroom, your hand resting on the handle, hoping to god it’s George. You contemplate this gamble for a few seconds, bouncing on your heels slightly before the devil on your shoulder simply says ‘fuck it’ and you turn the handle to the bathroom. 
“Hey, knock-” George pulls the shower curtain across, cutting himself off when he sees you leaning against the now closed bathroom door. A smirk forms on his face as pulls the shower curtain open a little for you, simply waiting. The steam flows outside of the curtain, the mirror foggy and walls wet. You quickly slip out of your clothes, untying your hair and letting it fall. A shiver runs over your body in the damp air and you hurry into the shower, wanting the warm water to cascade over your body. 
George has his head tipped under the shower, leaving his body open to your eyes. You drink in his figure, his toned chest and arms, his semi hard cock and strong legs. The water streams down his skin, small sprinkles covering your body. Wetness slips past your folds, your heart beat picking up, this almost feels wrong without his counterpart. But you know they will talk and you know Fred will be jealous. 
George faces you, dragging his hand down his face to wipe away the water, his eyes linger on your body, his tongue dragging along his bottom lip. 
“What’s Freddie going to say?” 
The mention of his name has butterflies erupting in your stomach. 
“Why don’t you tell him and find out.” 
George smirks at your response, stepping closer to you and pushing you against the side shower wall, the cold tiles resting against your skin as a hiss leaves your lips.
“You’re a cock hungry whore, aren’t you baby?”
Your lips part at his words, simply nodding and leaning up to capture his lips. George pulls away from you tutting as he holds your chin between his fingers. 
“You answer daddy when he asks a question.” 
“Only for you daddy.” 
George chuckles, tilting your face up to his. Small droplets of water fall from his hair and onto your skin. 
“Liar.” He whispers, licking along your bottom lip and taking it between his teeth and pulling the flesh. “You’re a slut for Freddie, and fuck it makes me hard, but tonight you’re mine.” 
You nod your head, a whispered ‘Yes Daddy’ slipping from your lips, your eyes staring into his. His lips lock with yours, his wet hand moving from your chin and tangling in your hair, pulling on the strands. A moan falls into your kiss, your tongues swirling against each other, his free hand holding your hip, pulling your dry body against his. 
“You’ve gotta be quiet baby.” George whispers, his lips kissing down your neck, tongue tracing a line to your boobs. You softly whimper as he takes your nipple into his mouth, his teeth grazing against the hardened bud. He pulls from your breast with a pop, alternating to the other side, your fingers tracing through his hair, pulling when he bites your nipple. The warm shower water sprinkling your body, the steam filling your lungs as your gasp.
“You’re so beautiful and these tits.” George whispers, grabbing your boobs in his large hands and jiggling the flesh. He sucks on the skin of your cleavage, leaving a red and purple hickey on each one, definitely something to rile up Fred. 
George presses against you, your boobs slip against his wet chest. His lips brush against your ear as you feel his hard cock against you skin. 
“This is all for you.” 
Your moan in response, causing George to place a hand over your mouth. Tutting at you as he shakes his head. He drags his fingertips up and down your thighs, softly tapping against your folds before slipping one finger past. He sucks in a breath at your wetness, pressing his fingers against your clit and looking into your eyes. 
“You’re so good for me, so wet and warm.” 
You nod against his hand that’s still pressed against your lips. His finger starts to swirl around your clit in small circles. Your eyes roll back, a moan vibrating against his hand. 
“I’ve missed this pussy baby.” 
He picks up the pace of his finger on your clit, your legs tense at the feeling of pleasure flowing through you at his actions. George pulls his finger from your clit, placing the digit against his tongue and rubbing it side to side, before his lips encase it. 
“So sweet.” 
If he wasn’t covering your mouth, it would be open in shock. 
“Please.” You beg, whispering against his hand, it is barely audible, he wouldn’t have noticed if he didn’t feel your lips move against his skin. 
“Are you begging for me to fuck you against the wall baby?”
His words cause more wetness to flow between your legs. He moves his hand from your lips allowing for you to answer. 
“Please daddy, I’ve missed your cock.” 
George smirks, placing his hand under your right knee and lifting your leg up, his other hand resting under your left arm. 
“I bet you’d say the same fucking thing to Freddie.” 
It’s your time to smirk at his words, nodding softly before you reach down and wrap your hand around his hard cock, tip red and beading with precum. 
“I would, because I’m a whore for you and a slut for him.” You whisper, slowly pumping your hand up and down his dick. George bites his lip, looking down at your hand. You place his cock against your folds, the tip brushes your wet clit causing him to hiss at the contact. You guide him lower to your entrance, angling your hips to allow for him to slide into your velvet walls. 
Both of you sigh in unison at the contact. George keeps his hips still, his lips capturing yours, savouring in the feeling of your walls around his cock. You rock your hips up slightly, a silent beg for movement as he smiles against your lips, pulling his cock from your pussy before plunging deep inside of you. Your nails dig into his shoulder as he finds his rhythm, his cock slips in and out of you, your wetness growing the deeper he thrusts inside of you. His lips are resting against your ear, his low whispered moans and groans echoing in your head. 
“So tight and wet for me.”
“Such a good girl for daddy.” 
Hearing him refer to himself as Daddy has your pussy tightening around him, his praise sending tingles through your body. 
The water of the shower continues to run, it ever so slightly sprinkling you both with droplets. The steam continues to fill the room, the water pressure dropping from being on for so long. 
“Touch your clit for me baby, I’m close and want you to cum first.” 
You slip your hand between your bodies, a moan falling from your lips as you circle your clit, the wetness causing it to slip against your finger. You add another, two now circling your clit and fast to help you reach your high. 
“Look at you, such a whore.” 
You whimper at his words, your pussy tightening causing George to hiss, tilting his head back, his wet hair sticking to his skin as he continues to rock in and out of you. 
“D-don’t stop.” 
Your legs tense, your fingers rubbing your clit faster and George’s lips fall to your neck, kissing the skin and whispering for you to cum. 
“Cover my cock baby.”
Your heart beat picks up, your breath hitching and your eyes squeezing shut as you cum. Your legs tingle and untense; George’s cock continues to slide in and out of you, his pace picking up as he moans in your ear. His mouth falls to your shoulder and bits skin to muffle his moan as his cum spurts, warmth pooling inside of you. 
George pulls away from you, watching his cock pull in and out, covered in a mix of cum. He gently places your leg down, slipping out of your pussy with a hiss. 
“C’mere.” George whispers, pulling you to his chest and kissing your hair. He spins you around, softly placing the warm running water against your cold back, his fingers tracing in your hair. He places a kiss on your forehead, his hands now holding your hips. 
“Let’s get you ready for bed.” 
| | | | 
You wake up in the morning, a dull ache in your legs from last night. The memory of last night floods your mind, you lift your shirt looking at your boobs beautifully covered in hickeys. 
“I hear you had fun last night.” 
You look over at Fred leaning against the doorway. Your face fills with blush, your eyes quickly flicking to George’s bed as you hear Fred chuckle. 
“George is out with everyone else, mum insisted they hand deliver Christmas cards to the neighbours.” Fred states, closing the door and moving closer to the bed. “And I insisted on letting you rest because you were up late last night and had to make sure you didn’t wake up alone.” 
“Freddie.”
“Nuh-uh, what’s my name baby girl.” 
Your stomach fills with butterflies, watching the eldest twin sit on the bed beside you, his fingers caressing your face. 
“Daddy.”
Fred nods, his hand tilting your chin up, before settling around your throat. Bending down to your lips and whispering against them. 
“That’s better, I bet you called George daddy and I bet you fucking loved it.” 
“I did.” 
You want Fred to be rough, you want him to compete against his brother, you want to be filled with his cum. 
“I hear you’re a slut for me, is that correct?” 
His hand tightens around your throat before releasing softly, dragging his hand down your body and resting it on your boob. 
“Yes daddy, whatever you want me to be.” 
Fred smirks, chuckling at your response. 
“So submissive for me, you wanted to make me jealous didn't you baby?”
He grips your breast, pinching your nipple and dragging his hand down your body, cupping your pussy through your thin pyjama pants.
“You want me to fuck you better than George.”
“Please.” You whimper, your hips rocking up against his hand. 
Fred slaps your pussy through your pants as your hips stop. 
“He was right, you’re a slut for me.” 
You simply nod in response. Fred leans down, his lips ghosting yours. 
“Get on your knees and show me what you want.” 
Within a second he’s pulled away for you, leaning back on the bed and resting against his elbows. You scramble off the bed, falling to your knees in front of him, the wooden floor hard and cold. 
You loop your fingers into Fred’s pants, tugging them down his body along with his underwear. His cock springs free, hitting against his lower stomach. Your mind floods with comparison to George, the thickness and length comparable, a vein running from the base to the tip. You run your tongue along the vein, flattening your tongue against the head of his cock before slipping it past your lips. 
“Fuck.” Fred moans, falling back on the bed, his hands dragging down his face. 
You wrap your hand around the base of his dick, meeting your lips half way, your tongue flicking side to side around his cock. Fred’s fingers lace in your hair, assisting you with bobbing your head up and down, his hips thrusting into your throat. Your eyes water, a few gags filling the air and drool leaking from your mouth. 
“Such a messy baby.” 
Your eyes roll back, moaning around his cock. 
“You didn’t- fuck- suck George’s dick, did you baby.” You shake your head, popping his cock from your lips. 
“Just for you daddy.”
“Mm, just what I wanted to hear.” Fred grabs your face between his hands, kissing your lips sloppily, his tongue rubbing against yours. Your lips are puffy and glistening with spit, his teeth pull at your bottom lip pulling away from you. 
“On the bed baby, ass up for daddy.”
Within an instant you’re standing in front of him, stripping your clothes. Fred stops you before you can lay across the bed, noticing the hickies covering your boobs. 
“Cocky fucker.” Fred groans, spanking your ass in encouragement to get on the bed. 
You lay with your ass in the air, feeling Fred kiss down your back. He reaches your ass, spanking the plump skin, soothing it with a soft kiss to your cheek. His teeth graze the skin, biting and sucking, leaving his mark on your ass. You squeak as he spanks you, his cock dragging up and down your slit, bumping against your clit, your moans filling the air. 
“No one’s home baby, be loud for me.” 
Fred slides deep inside of you, the angle allows for him to brush against your g-spot a moan pulling from your throat. 
“Fuck, I should just stay inside of you, that would drive you crazy, wouldn’t it baby?” 
“Yes daddy, please fuck me.” 
“Mm, what would George say?”
“Fuck, please, fuck me.” 
You push your hips back against his cock, a low groan falling from his lips. 
“Fuck yourself on my cock baby.” Fred encourages, your hips rock back and forth on his cock, wiggling them against him. You pull forward just far enough to leave the tip inside of you before pushing back allowing for him to slip deep inside of you. This causes Fred to grip your hips, starting his own rhythm and thrusting in and out of you. 
“This is exactly what you wanted, isn't it baby?”
You nod against the comforter, your hands gripping the material. 
Fred spanks your ass, his fingers looping your hair around his palm and pulling you up. 
“Answer me.”
“Yes daddy, wanted you to fuck me.” 
“Wanted me to fuck you better than George.” 
You moan at his words, his pace picking up. Both of your moans and heavy breathing fill the air, his grip still tight on your hair. Fred uses his grip to pull you up against his chest, his arm wrapping across your boobs as he bounces you on his cock. 
His lips fall to your ear, using his free hand to rub your clit. 
“Fuck, Freddie.”
Fred chuckles against your ear, his warm breath fanning your neck.
“Scream my name louder baby, I want George to hear.” He pinches your clit, your body jumping in response before he rubs fast circles around the bundle of nerves. You rest your head against his shoulder, lips parted with moans pouring from them. Your pussy tightens around his cock as his dick twitches. 
“You can cum for me baby, I’ve got you.” 
Fred’s grip on your body tightens, his hips rocking into you faster. 
“Daddy, so good.”
He kisses the side of your head, his pace picking up on your clit. He feels you clamp around his cock and your body tense. Your toes curl and your body shivers, cumming around Fred.
“Good girl, good fucking girl.” Fred whispers, the sound of your wetness filling the air as he continues to pound into you. He pushes your torso back onto the bed, holding your ass in his hands and chasing his high. Fred curses and you feel his load shoot inside of you, a few more thrusts and Fred gingerly pulls out of you. 
“Look at you baby.” He whispers, softly caressing your skin. 
You gently roll over onto your back, attempting to catch your breath as Fred rushes around for clothing before disappearing. You hear the front door to the Weasley’s home open close and a chatter fill the air. You heart rate picks up slightly, your body aching and mind blissed out to cover yourself. 
Fred reappears in the bedroom with a warm towel between his hands. Within a moment later George is sliding through the door. His eyes darkening when they land on you, legs spread and pussy dripping with his brother's cum. The twins share a look as Fred throws the towel to George who stalks over to you. 
“Such a pretty baby, our little cum slut.” George whispers, his eyes fixated on your pussy. A gasp falls from your lips at the feeling of George slipping his fingers inside of you. George pulls his fingers from you, a mix of cum sticking to his flesh. You grab George’s wrist, pulling his hand to your mouth, dragging your tongue up his fingers, sucking the mix of cum, your moan vibrating around his fingers. Your eyes lock with the younger twin, a smile present on both of their faces. 
“We’re so lucky Freddie.”
| | | |
Let me know if you'd like a part 2 with both of them.
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natalievoncatte · 7 months
Text
There was something inherently unnerving in Superman staring at her, Lena decided. She could *feel* the weight of his gaze on her. If she hadn’t know better, she would have thought that he was trying to steal glances at her. Of course, there was the matter of Lois Lane and all that, and Lena was assuredly not his type. She was, after all, a Luthor.
But he kept staring.
Lena listened to the mission briefing, feeling a bit detached. Her work here was done; she’d worked out the math and it was up to Kara and her cousin to push the asteroid just so, to return it to its proper orbit and send it on its merry way.
It was routine, if two people with godlike powers pushing millions of tons of rock through space could be said to be normal.
There was only one problem.
Clark.
Kept.
Staring.
Lena looked away from him, then slipped out of the room, looking up at the sky. She could see the offending space rock just barely, and extended her arm, covering it with her thumb, one eye pinched shut.
“Hey.”
Kara was in the doorway, not quite emerging onto the balcony. She’d suited up in her space suit, a new design of Lena’s that outfitted her in a stark white with a glowing amber light behind the red-gold frame of her family crest. Lena was proud of her work. It carried a sufficient air supply and was shielded against radiation, just on the off chance they Kara met something up there that bypassed her immunities.
Kara had her helmet tucked under one arm and her hair up on a tight bun, and she looked absolutely dashing. Lena couldn’t help but grin like a big kid, as worried as she was.
“Hey.”
“Hey yourself,” said Lena. “You look good in that.”
“Of course I do, you made it,” said Kara.
She broke across the balcony in three quick strides, and from the way she canted her head, Lena thought it might finally happen. She might crack that last barrier and press her soft lips to Lena’s, stealing some luck to take with her, and stealing Lena’s breath away.
Kara had stolen her heart years ago.
She didn’t, though. Rather than a hug, she ducked down and brushed her forehead lightly against Lena’s, before quickly pulling back.
“Come right back,” said Lena.
“You know it,” said Kara. “Want me to bring you something from my trip?”
“Just come back safe.”
Kara grinned her cocky grin and offered Lena a little salute.
“It’s time,” Clark said, from the doorway. Lena hadn’t even noticed his presence.
He was staring at both of them, now. Lena turned away. The pair stepped back inside, Clark speaking to Kara in clipped, rapid Kryptonese. Lena couldn’t parse it quickly enough, but she made out something about scents.
The mission was not routine.
Lena’s work was perfect. The data was not. Lena white knuckled the railing in her hands as the asteroid drifted down, skimming the Earth’s atmosphere and carving out a channel of unbound flame.
Alex was frantically demanding a status update, but neither Kryptonian answered her. There was only static. Lena watched the control room monitors, and her hands felt as cold as the steel they grasped. She felt utterly numb, on the verge of screaming.
Then the speakers crackled. It was Kara.
“I’m sorry, Lena,” Kara rasped out. “I made a mess of your suit.”
They landed a few minutes later. Kara was the worse for wear, with some of the reinforced plating melted off on her left side. She spun a harrowing tale of struggling to correct the rock’s course, Clark nodding along silently beside her. Lena locked eyes with Kara and let out a slow, agonized breath. She was okay. She was okay this time.
She’d always be okay. Right up until she wasn’t.
After, when Kara had been pried out of her suit, with her cousin’s help, and changed into a hoodie and leggings, she attacked the buffet that was laid out for the two of them in the cafeteria. Shoving around celestial bodies in as hungry work.
When Lena turned and saw Superman staring at her again, she decided she’d had enough and squared up to him.
“Okay, farmboy. Out with it. Why do you keep staring at me?”
“I was waiting for Kara to say something,” he said, “but I guess she’s too shy or she’s worried about what I’ll think. It’s okay with me if you two are together. I don’t hold your name against you.”
Lena’s brain about leaked out of her ears.
“Together?”
“Of course. I noticed earlier that her heartbeat synchronizes to yours whenever you’re in the room, and of course she’s been scent marking you.”
“She’s been what?”
Clark shifted on his feet, either from her tone or her expression or both. He looked strangely young.
“Oh, uh, I see. Anyway I need to get going, long flight back to Metropolis.”
Lena barely noticed him leaving. She stood in the same spot far too long, staring at the refrigerator. She was still standing there when Kara came up alongside her.
“Hey.”
Of course, she was devastating. Kara was in black leggings and a threadbare hoodie that was actually Lena’s, and padding around the place barefoot. Her golden tresses spilled around her shoulders in loose waves, held back by her glasses. The dashing bravado was gone and she was soft, warm, equally lovely Kara again.
“You scared me up there,” said Lena.
“You kept me safe with your suit. You always do.”
Lena looked Kara in the eye. Kara had the most lovely eyes, a gorgeous deep blue that could be as heavy as winter storm or as light as a summer breeze
“I heard what Clark said.”
Lena swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.
“He caught me red handed,” Kara added.
Lena wondered if she should laugh it off, or make a joke. Kara smiled, pulling her gaze away in a slightly embarrassed way, her cheeks turning a rosy pink.
“Does Kryptonian scent marking mean what I’m guessing it means?”
“It, um, it does.”
“This is how humans do it,” Lena whispered, diving headlong into Kara’s space.
She ducked just a little, tilting her head back, and Kara read her intentions perfectly. Their lips came together, and their first kiss was quick and soft, a promise for later, when there would be only fairy lights and Kara’s couch and soft, eager explorations full of slow, desperate intensity.
For now, Kara simply took Lena’s hands in her own, and very gently nuzzled her nose against Lena’s, breath ticking her lips.
“Take me home, space cowgirl,” said Lena.
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