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#maybe I’ll have it optional if I can figure it out
rosicheeks · 2 years
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❤️
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filmcel · 4 months
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Hey man, some advice from someone on their way into their mid twenties: don’t continue into higher education if you don’t want to. I know it’s easier said than done, but I mean it wholeheartedly. School is draining, and if just the thought of it is causing you stress, than actually going will be worse. It’s hard when it feels as though there’s all of this pressure to not disappoint yourself parents or anyone else that expects this of you, but you are what matters most. You should be your top priority. You should do the things that are in your own best interest. I tried to go to college multiple times after graduating (and struggling to do so immensely despite the fact that I’m smart and school came easy to me. I was just incredibly burnt out on life by that point) and it never ended up working out. College isn’t for everyone, and that’s okay. You’re not less than or a failure for not doing what society tells you you have to do to be successful. You can find meaningful work that doesn’t break your body and soul without college. You can maintain or create new friendships without college. Put yourself first, and you’re doing great 💜
thank you 😭
#saying more in tags bc i’m shy#currently bc i’m so young i’m just going to stay with what i’m doing#i was able to figure out my shit for today and i start next week#i’m an easy quitter so if i fucking despise it u best believe i’m leaving#but maybe it ends up being amazing. i rlly don’t know .#just doing this now to please my family.#i still work and i have friends. my future goals aren’t limited to school and i have to remind myself of that.#getting a life outside of school has helped me become a better person i think.#and i hope if i remember that i do have a life outside of school i’ll survive going to class if i know it’s not the end of the world if i’m#not the absolute best.#for now i’m too young to say no to my parents#all things considered i should just say no#but living w them is hell dealing w this#i think my best option is to dip my toes in and see how it goes.#i don’t even have to push myself too hard. and they won’t either bc they know anything is better than nothing#but i do not regret at all the time i spent out of school#i was able to work so much and as annoying as work can b i’m very grateful i got to do that#bc not only has that helped me make my closest friends but also …MONEY.#soon i’ll get a car. and soon i can start planning my own future#captain’s log#One step at a time ☝️🙏#incoming transmission#i appreciate u anon .#but this year i’m going to try and b easy on myself#we’ll see how that goes#also it’s low stakes bc it’s just community college#maybe if i can take stuff that interests me i can figure myself out more#bc while ik ever job doesn’t NEED college degree. idk what i want to work in.#there’s things i’d love to do. but i have zero knowledge of anything
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starbuck · 8 months
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it’s just me and my five year plan against the world
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itsbeenclaireified · 7 months
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I had a chimney sweep come to clean and inspect my fireplace, to see if I could use it. Turns out it was already clean, so he changed it to just an inspection. And I’m a little nervous to see the quote about fixing everything will be, because there’s a bunch of exterior work that is probably gonna be PRICEY.
Also I need a new liner for my chimney?? So that’s also probably pricey. And yes it’s technically all just if I decide to do it. But I would like to someday use my fireplace ya know?
And my report says not to use it, but my friend also got a similar report but he told her off the record she’s probably be fine if she used it. But I’m an anxious little baby so I probably won’t???
But in a good news/bad news sort of way, I figured out where the wasps come into my basement every spring!
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The fireplace!!
How scary!!! But at least now I know. And I can take precautions to block them off.
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papercorgiworld · 4 months
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“I dare you to steal his clothes.”
Mattheo, Enzo, Blaise and Theo
Luna dares you to steal his clothes while he’s showering. I mean what can possibly go wrong… *wink wink*
Warning: smut, making out and the guys are fully naked
Mattheo and Theo picture source: https://pin.it/4GWiiih
I’m back with more low quality, cheap smut. Feedback is rewarded with my love, like even a small typo, just please let me know.
I wrote a part 2 for Mattheo and Theo: The day after the dare. Also wrote “I dare you to steal his clothes” for Draco and Tom.
You were sitting in the slytherin common room. It was late and the party was dying down but your friends refused to go to their dorms.
“Truth or dare?” Luna asks as she tries to focus on you but she’s clearly too drunk to manage that.
“Dare.”
Luna tries to get her brain to come up with a good dare, something fun. It is then that she sees a certain slytherin holding a towel and heading for the bathroom.
Mattheo Riddle
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“I dare you to steal Mattheo’s clothes while he’s showering.” You groan, you preferred to stay as far away from him as possible, but then again if you were sneaky enough he would probably never figure out it was you.
You had managed to sneak in without making any noise. You were relieved there was only one person in the bathroom. You tiptoed towards the pile of clothing and just as you were reaching for it you noticed that the water had stopped running.
“Accio.” Is all you heard before being pulled backwards straight into Mattheo. His strong arms immediately wrapped around you and pushed you against his still wet body.
“You were dared to do this, weren’t you?” Mattheo whispers in your ears, his voice is calm and amused. You swallow and lick your lips in an attempt to calm yourself. “Yes.” You murmur as you try to wiggle your way out of his arms, but he just tightens his grip more. The water droplets on his body are sinking into the fabric of your shirt.
You sigh. “Just let me go. And like, lend me your tie or something so they know I tried. I don’t want them to think I chickened out.” Mattheo leans in closer to your neck, his warm breath on your skin makes your whole body heat up. “Riddle.” You wanna complain but it comes out desperate.
“I have a better idea.” Mattheo says right before he spins you around. Your back clashes with a wall as he pushes you against it with his whole body. His amused smirk gives you mixed feelings of worry and desire. “Just the tie is fine.” You protest as his face inches towards you. You fear that if Mattheo actually kisses you, you will lose all sanity and he will have you begging in no time.
You can feel his hardening member between your legs. A not so subtle reminder that he’s naked. Mattheo’s hand lingers on your leg gently making his way up under your skirt. Your body tenses under his touch. “You can always leave. Or you can stay and maybe I’ll let you walk away with my clothes.”
As you consider your options he watches your face and slowly leans into you, his pleased grin never faltering. After a moment of quiet sexual tension Mattheo grabs your ass and lifts you up without warning. A soft noise leaves your lips and Mattheo sees your parted lips as an open invitation. His mouth is on yours and his tongue immediately starts exploring.
His hard cock teases your pussy through your panties. Out of desperation you wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer, searching for more sensation. He breaks the kiss and admires your flustered face. “Look at you. Always acting like you're better than me and now I’ll have you calling me daddy in no time.” His arrogance turns you on as much as it infuriates you.
Mattheo grabs your chin to angle your face right, leaving your neck exposed. He starts kissing and nibbling at your sensitive spot, while his hips rock into yours. Your fingers entangle in his beautiful dark curls but only for a moment. You are not an easy prey.
You tugg his hair so he pulls away from your neck. “Not happening, Riddle.” His arrogant smug face starts cracking and he clenches his jaw. “You’re pretty entertaining, but I’ll not be calling you daddy.” You say trying to sound brave while you unwrap your legs. With dark eyes he lets you slip out of his hands so you land on your feet. “No tie for you, you’ll fail your dare.” You smile at his attempt to persuade you.
“Don’t worry about me Riddle, worry about the little fella between your legs.” You take a step and reluctantly he lets you walk away. Now that there’s some distance between you two your eyes fall on his hard thick member and you bite your lip, slightly impressed by his size. When you’re near the door Mattheo can’t help but try one more time. “My roommates are going to be out for a few more hours, just so you know, in case you change your mind.” You lick your lips as you're holding the door. “Sorry pretty boy, it’s going to be you and your hand tonight.”
As you close the door behind you Mattheo looks around clearly frustrated that he got played like this. An annoyed huff leaves his lips. You had already caught his eye but now you were definitely on his radar. He urgently needs another shower to cool down.
Meanwhile you walked back to your friends still shaking from all the things Mattheo had you feeling. When they see you walk in they stop talking and stare. “Yeah, it didn’t go as planned.” You say with a soft voice and a flustered face. Suddenly Luna points, clearly still out of it. “Is that a hickey?” Your eyes widen as your hand covers your neck. “Oh. My. God.” Pansy’s dramatic voice draws even more attention, while Hermoine eyes show flashes of pure panic.
Enzo Berkshire
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“I dare you to steal Lorenzo’s clothes while he’s showering.” Your eyes widen and you blush. You wondered if Luna dared you to do this because she had somehow figured out you had a crush on the Slytherin.
Either way you were currently standing in front of the bathroom door. You quietly open the door and tiptoe inside, while scanning for his clothes. However, Enzo already noticed you before you managed to spot his clothes. “Did they dare you to join me in the shower? Because you are more than welcome, darling.” You turn around with red cheeks and see Enzo with a bright smirk.
But honestly your eyes don’t linger on his face for very long. They immediately drop down to his very naked body and his dick. “Enjoying the show?” He asks and you quickly turn around. “Um, I’m sorry. I didn’t notice.” You stammer, making Enzo chuckle. “If you stare for as long as you did, you’ve definitely noticed everything.” He emphasizes the last word. “I was dared to steal your clothes.” You confess, hoping he won’t think you’re some pervy girl.
“That’s just boring. I dare you to join me for a shower, I will help you wash.” You feel your whole body heat up. “You can’t just dare me, I can still pick ‘truth’.” You hear him walk towards you, but you don’t dare to turn around assuming he’s still naked. “You’re right. So, truth then: did you like what you saw?” Your mouth falls open and suddenly you feel his breath on your neck. His eyes carefully watching your red face.
“You are unbelievable!” You try and take a step to put some distance between you two, but he wraps his arm around you. “Unbelievably hot? Handsome? Long? Big?” He teases you while his face nestles in his hair. “You know if you’re not going to tell me then you’re going to have to shower with me.”
***
“So strange, it’s been an hour and (y/n) still hasn’t come back.” Luna asks with a very confused tone. Hermoine smiles, having her suspicions. “Maybe she just got a little distracted while trying to steal Lorenzo’s clothes.”
Blaise Zabini
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“I dare you to steal Zabini’s clothes while he’s showering.” You swallow. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” Convincing drunk Luna was impossible. So here you were sneaking around in the Slytherin boys bathroom gathering Blaise’s scattered clothes like some weirdo. You had finally collected every piece and tiptoed your way to the door. However, you were still only halfway when you were spotted.
“Hey, hey, what do you think you’re doing, little smooth criminal?” You hear Zabini shout as you're holding all of his clothes. “Nothing.” You instinctively answer. He wants to say something but is distracted when he sees your eyes scan down his body. “Princes, my eyes are up here.” You let out a nervous laugh as you glue your eyes to his. It has never been so difficult to not look at something.
You don’t dare to take your eyes off his face as he walks towards you. When he stops right in front of you you feel like you’re turning into pudding. He slowly leans in, his eyes never leaving yours. Then suddenly he pulls out a towel from behind you and wraps it around his waist. You sigh relieved that you can let your eyes wander again.
“Can I have my clothes back, little thief?” He asks with an adorable smile plastered on his face. “No, I’m stealing them for a dare.” You explain like you now have every right to steal his clothes. He tilts his head, not satisfied with your excuse. “I really need them.” You urge and you earn yourself a baffled expression from him. “So do I.”
“Clothes are overrated. You can go naked.” Blaise quirks an eyebrow. “I mean you have your towel.” You gesture to his slutty low hanging towel and when he looks down you head for the door. Unfortunately, you don’t get very far as he grabs a hold of your wrist. You stumble and fall into him, making you drop some of the clothes you were holding and causing his towel to loosen and fall down. As soon as you notice that his rather large member is revealed again you glue your eyes back to his. “Your towel.” He’s so amused with your flustered face that it really doesn’t bother him anymore.
His lips catch yours by surprise, but it doesn’t take long for you to relax into the kiss. Things heat up quickly. Your hands snake around his neck and he starts exploring your entire body, squeezing and cupping your breasts while gripping your ass and pulling you into his hips. You never stop touching each other as he walks you towards the shower. “I’m going to have to steal your clothes.” He explains as he pulls your shirt over your head. “Understandable.” Is all you say.
After more than an hour you return to your friends. “Did you take a shower?” Hermoine questions when she notices you walk in with wet hair. “Who cares! Did you get his clothes?” Luna screams in excitement about the dare. “Damn, I forgot about that.” You sigh and Luna looks confused. “Then what have you been doing all this time?” “Me.” You hear Blaise say as he passes you and your friends on his way to his room. You glare but his smile doesn't fade.
Theodore Nott
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“I dare you to steal Nott’s clothes while he’s showering.” You roll your eyes as soon as you hear his name. All of your friends were convinced that you had a thing for him and you definitely admired his looks but you just couldn’t stand his smug face.
“Run in, grab his clothes and run out. Easy.” You whispered to yourself before slamming the door open with zero tact and running in. He of course immediately notices you. You spot a pile of clothes on the other side of the room and sprint towards it. When he realizes what you’re up to he steps out of the shower and heads towards the door.
You quickly hug the pile of clothes against your chest and turn around with the intention of running out, but there’s a flaw in your plan. Well, more like a very naked Theo leaning against the door. “I’m assuming you were dared to do this?” He raises an eyebrow. “Duh, why else would I be running around stealing clothes?” You were annoyed with his question and he was annoyed with your answer.
As you walk towards him it’s harder for you to ignore his massive cock, like its size is almost bothering you. No wonder his ego is so massive, just like his dick. He licks his lips as he watches you stare at him for a second too long to go unnoticed. When you look up and see his smirk, you sigh. “Just let me pass, Nott.” He shakes his head. “You come running in here, try to steal my clothes and expect me to let you walk out. You really aren’t that bright.” You narrow your eyes at him. “But you’re pretty, so maybe we can arrange something.”
The only thing between you two is the pile of clothes that you’re holding against your chest. Theo tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear. “Come on, if you get on your knees for me I’ll let you walk out of here with my clothes.” You consider your options, but he makes choosing easier by leaning in and kissing you roughly. He bites your lips and you open your mouth while simultaneously dropping his clothes. Your fingers tangle in his hair and you press yourself against him. He eagerly embraces your lust and lets himself lean against a wall.
Your hands roam his naked chest and slowly you make your way to his already harding member. When you finally wrap your hand around his thick cock he lets out a soft moan. Even though his eyes are shut he knows you're smiling against his lips. You start pumping his dick and stroking his tip. Theo's breaths become messy. He hates that you know how much you turn him on, but he can’t help himself. More than once, has he spent his time daydreaming about you going down on him and now your lips were slowly making their way down from his neck to his chest to…
“You’re already leaking cum for me.” You taunt him and he looks down at you. Fuck, seeing you on your knees holding his cock. It does things to him. “But if you think something is going to happen, then you aren’t very bright, Theo.” With those words you jump up and grab his clothes, running like your life depends on it.
Panting you reach your friends and hold Theo’s clothes up in victory. Luna cheers excitedly. Some time passes and you’ve all decided to play one last round, when suddenly Theo walks in wearing nothing but a towel and if looks could fuck, then.. you know, definitely fucked. The lust in his eyes was dangerously attractive. His eyes never leave yours as he gathers his clothes laying next to you. “I’ll get you for this.” He says with a husky voice and licks his lips. Hermoine frowns and laughs nervously. “Why do I get the feeling this is about more than just stealing clothes?” Your heart starts racing as you watch Theo walk away, you might have gotten yourself in trouble.
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cozage · 8 months
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It's me again, feel free to ignore this if you're only taking 1 request per person
Congrats on 2k followers ♡
I would like to request, option 1, the reader asking "can I give you a kiss? If you don't like it, you can can return it" with Zoro, Sanji and Luffy (if you can also with Law, Ace and/or Kid)
Thank you in advance, hope you have a lovely day ♡
Nonsense! If you send it in and I like it, I'll write it! This was a fun request too :) I would've done them all if I had the time <3
Characters: gn reader x Zoro, Sanji, Luffy Total word count: 740
Returned Kisses
Zoro
“Zoro!” you sang, skipping across the deck. “I have a question.”
Zoro groaned. Your questions were never as simple as you initially made them out to be. 
“Can I give you a kiss?” you asked, your cheeks turning a cute rose color. “If you don’t like it, I can return it!”
Zoro scowled at you, trying to decipher your strange slew of words. “How do you return a kiss?” he asked. He set down the weights he had been using, trying not to sound too interested. 
“I guess you’ll just have to see!”
His eyes scanned the ship. There was nobody else around. And he had to admit, he was curious how your lips tasted. 
“Make it quick, then.” He sighed, trying to act as if he were apathetic to the whole idea, but his pinkened cheeks did not go overlooked. 
Your lips pressed against his, and he could taste a distinct sugary sweetness Normally he hated sweets, but he found it quite enjoyable upon your lips. 
When you finally pulled away, he quickly wetted his own lips with his tongue, desperate to get another taste. 
“I think I’ll return it,” he said, looking at you. 
“Oh.” Your shoulders slumped in defeat. “Not very good then, was-?”
He pushed his lips back against yours with a sort of desperation and hunger that you weren’t expecting, and your mouth fell open in surprise against his. He quickly pushed his tongue past your lips, hungry  for more of your sweetness. 
When he finally pulled away, he shot you a cocky smirk. “Maybe you should try again later. I might not return it next time.”
Sanji
“Sanji!” You opened the swinging door to the kitchen, searching for him. 
“Do you need something, my love?” he asked. “Whatever you want, I will gladly give you.”
“Great!” you smiled. “I was thinking I could give you something, though.”
“Me?” He looked around the room, trying to figure out what you meant. 
“Yeah! I was thinking I could give you a kiss,” you offered. “If you didn’t like it-Sanji!”
The poor cook had collapsed to the ground, sent into shock by your offer. He seemed to be mumbling and babbling words, but you couldn’t make them out. 
You knelt down next to him, pulling his head into your lap to make sure he was okay. 
“Oh, Y/N love,” he whispered, finally coming back to his senses. “I had this strange dream where you offered to kiss me.”
You laughed. “I did offer to kiss you.”
His eyes were suddenly clear now, and very focused on your lips. So you bent down and pressed them against his own. You could hear his breathing become shallow, but you steeled your nerves and stayed there for a moment before you pulled away. 
“If you don’t like it, you can return it,” you whispered. 
Sanji’s eyes were practically hearts as he stared up at you. “Can I still return it even if I did like it?”
You giggled, crinkling your nose as you laughed. “I suppose so.”
“Good!” He reached up and pulled you back down to him, keeping his lips pressed into yours until Luffy ran into the kitchen looking for more food. 
Luffy
“Luffy! Come here!” you called up to the captain. He was in his seat on the figurehead, like always. 
“You come here!” he yelled back. Rubber arms extended towards you and whipped you up next to him. “What’s up?”
“Can I give you a kiss?” you asked. “You can return it if-”
His lips smashed against yours, and you could feel his mouth stretching into a smile. You couldn’t help but smile too, your head foggy with giddiness at his willingness to say yes. 
He finally pulled away from you, his laugh filling the air around you. “That was nice.”
“I was supposed to give you a kiss, Luffy!” You were trying to scold him, but you couldnt wipe that stupid smile off your face. 
“Do you want to give me one?” he asked, his eyes lighting up. “You can give me another one!”
You leaned back into another kiss, his arms already wrapped around your neck. He was trying not to be too eager, but once your fingers tangled into his raven locks, he abandoned all common sense and worked to devour as much of you as he could get.
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bigfatbimbo · 4 months
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Can you do a Alastor x married reader? (No smut please just wholesome and gore shit)
omg i didn’t know if you wanted Alastor with a reader who’s already married to somebody else or if you want reader who’s married to Alastor.
Initially i thought it was the ladder so that’s what i wrote. If you wanted the first option you can drop another ask and i’ll write that too!
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✧.* He goes absolutely crazy for your wedding anniversaries, like i’m not kidding. He would probably do really extreme borderline insane grand gestures
✧.* like say you like nirvana he would probably hunt down kurt kobain and steal his soul just so you get a free concert
✧.* that was a ridiculous example but the gestures are seriously that crazy 
✧.* His love language would probably be gift giving and acts of service. He’s the type to unexpectedly get you flowers or chocolates because he doesn’t really know how else to express his affection towards you.
✧.* On your wedding day, your first dance would probably start slow but then halfway through the song pick up the pace and have like an electro-swing type beat. 
✧.* I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t tell you about it either, just all of a sudden started spinning and dipping you. 
✧.* as you know, he is SUCH an attention whore and his jealousy gets even worse after you two get married. He wants your eyes on him at all times and throws a little tantrum anytime someone else has your attention.
✧.* Luckily you know him well enough to figure out when this happens. Maybe even call him out on it, that’ll get him going.
✧.* If you do end up saying something about his jealousy, especially if it’s in a teasing way, watch his grin tighten and his eyes widen before shaking his head slightly. Obviously trying to hide how much you just caught him off guard.
✧.* He’ll probably say something like “Oh, my dear, you know me far too well.”
✧.* Kisses aren’t as common as they are in other peoples relationships, not to say they don’t happen. Usually he’s the one to initiate it as he’s not that big of a fan of physical touch.
✧.* But he’ll wait until you two have a moment alone and lean down to kiss you.
✧.* Although if he is in a touchy mood, however rare that scenario might be, he will show you very discreetly. maybe you two are just lounging in bed and he’ll gradually scoot ever so slightly closer too you until your practically squeezed together.
✧.* Maybe you take the hint and start to hold his hand, or even rub his back. He wouldn’t say how much he liked it but maybe even let him lean on your shoulder.
✧.* Brother has mad parental issues and misses his mommy so he actually would love feeling taken care of like that.
✧.* More on his jealousy, he will ABSOLUTELY WITHOUT A DOUBT kill for you. Whether it’s someone who just had your attention for a little too long, or someone who just plain annoyed you, they’re a goner. OH, and it will not be fast. it will be drawn out and slow because this bitch is absolutely crazy.
✧.* He loves to dance so much that’s probably the most common form of physical touch between you two. 
✧.* Alastor also has a terrible habit of just talking AT you. Usually you humor him at listen even if it feels like he’s talking to himself more than you. Buddy just thinks the things he has to say or super important so you just nod your head and smile.
✧.* If you’re especially known for being Alastors wife then people will absolutely steer clear of you. Actually, a week into dating he probably already sent a message to people who even thought of messing with you. Yeah, it doesn’t happen often anymore.
✧.* He also likes it when you cook for him. It reminds him of his childhood and probably makes him happy. 
✧.* He will DEFINITELY join it and help you cook because my boy loves that quality time!
✧.* Maybe you and him happen to be disliking the same demon and decide to kill them together. Literally power couple shit right there, taking turns beating the shit out of some disrespectful bitch. 
✧.* Probably kissing whilst that’s happening too to be honest.
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a/n: OMG IM NOT VERY PROUD OF THIS TBH!! I swear usually i’m better at writing but i literally just don’t like Alastor very much? I don’t know he just doesn’t do it for… well anyways bc of that it might be a little out of character.
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inkedells · 11 months
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look at me a little more | dbf!joel miller x f!reader
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A/N: first of all, SMUTTT so much smut up ahead. holy crap this is the longest thing i've ever written (pathetic, i know, blame the commitment issues) enjoy lovies!! also lmk if you want a part 2 maybe possibly!?
m!dni | requests open.
summary: dbf!neighbor!joel accidentally drenches you (virgin!reader) while washing his car and you can’t help but notice the way he eyes you up. it’s only once he’s in your bedroom, fixing your closet door as an apology, that you realize the best person to rid you of your virginity and teach you precisely how to please yourself and others had been right in front of you the whole time; it's getting joel on board with the whole idea that's the hard part.
word count: 5.5k
tags/warnings: SMUTTTT, virgin!reader, dbf!neighbor!joel faces moral conflicts (to fuck or not to fuck!?!?), porn with plot, sooo much tension, dirty talk, use of pet names, blowjobs, handjobs, cumplay, reader eats joel's cum, grinding, making out, oral sex, no!outbreak au, reader's innocent in the sense that she doesn't really know how to do a lot of things when it comes to sex but still has a ton of desires
masterlist
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There was a certain shame that came with being infatuated with your dad’s best friend.
You were sitting around on the porch on a hot summer afternoon, wearing your shortest cotton shorts as you sipped the juice box brand you had loved since you were a little girl. Legs crossed, foot tapping the air, and most importantly, eyes absolutely trained on the ripple of Joel Miller’s biceps as he washed his car.
You didn’t know why you liked to stare at him so much. But you did know it was wrong. Immoral. Eyeing up someone in their forties? What was wrong with you? That was your dad’s best f—
“Hey, Mr. Miller!” You called over, shutting down every ounce of doubt in your mind.
He turned around without hesitation, and when he did, you waved. The first time you’d done that, he had to work a little harder to figure out the source of the voice, eyes searching in random directions before finally settling on you. But now, it was like he knew exactly where to look—And, well, that was all it took for you to decide you would be spending the next hour washing a car if it meant spending time with Joel.
So you settled your juice box down on the wooden floor of the porch and skipped over to his house. He must not have heard your footsteps behind him over the sound of the hose, so your simple tap on his shoulder resulted in him whipping around, hose in hand, as he consequently drenched you.
You yelped, breaking out into nervous laughter both from shock and how cold the water was. Joel fumbled to turn off the hose as he began profusely apologizing. “Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry—”
Then he properly saw you. From Joel’s perspective, your clothes were reduced to translucency, practically melting into your skin.
But you didn’t know that. You never fully grasped just how vulnerable you had become from his accident, so when you caught him averting his gaze as quickly as he could, you were a little confused.
“You—Uh—I,” Joel stumbled before clearing his throat, “There’s clothes. Inside. Sarah’s. You can, um, you can go and… y’know. Change into them. Walkin’ all the way back to your house doesn’t seem like a… viable… option.”
By then, a blush had already risen to your cheeks just from how delicately Joel was treating you. As if you were something he had to be careful with, like if he didn’t think long and hard about every word coming out of his mouth, there would be consequences. 
“Lead the way.”
Joel gave you a firm smile before swallowing the lump in his throat and motioning for you to follow him as he walked. Once he had the front door open, he let you go in first. Even as you carefully walked past him, you could feel his eyes staring at you.
“Up there,” Joel gestured, “Um, first door on the left. I’ll… be outside.”
As he explained, you subconsciously scanned over the planes of his body—probably a habit you picked up from the multiple weeks of watching him work. But then he was turning to leave, and you could tell he was still really tense. You didn’t know why a simple accident had him so tripped up, but you had the urge to alleviate his worry.
“Hey,” You called, arms wrapped around yourself in an effort to stave off the cold. He turned around, concerned until he saw your soft smile and relaxed a little, “On a scale of one to ten, how sick and tired are you of washing that truck?”
There was only one way to break Joel out of his nervous state; you had to make the situation lighthearted; you learned that from years of watching him hang out with your dad.
He searched your eyes for a beat, eyes completely unwavering, before muttering, “Like a fifty.”
You both breathed a laugh at that. For the briefest moment, you thought you noticed Joel’s gaze flitting to your chest. Your breath caught in your throat, but before you could do a double take, his eyes were glued to yours again.
“So then,” You started, regathering yourself and pushing away whatever your brain was conjuring up, “How do you feel about replacing one lousy chore with another?”
“What kinda chore we talkin’?”
“Well, my closet door’s all screwed up. And you know, instead of apologizing for soaking me by way of expensive concert tickets and a brand new car, like how I know you were planning on doing—”
“—Oh, of course,” Joel sarcastically remarked, playing along as you quickly noticed the worry on his face faded into a crooked grin.
“Well, I really think I can just settle for the closet door fix. Go ahead and save the brand new car for when you break my toaster.”
“Okay, okay,” Joel laughed, “I get it. Go change, then you can lead me to this broken closet door.”
-
Sarah’s clothes definitely belonged to a fourteen-year-old. Not your taste, but then again, if you were fourteen like her, you probably would’ve dressed like that too.
You couldn’t settle on a top, all of them were either too small or bore a graphic design too childish for you. You did find a pair of stretchier shorts that fit alright though, so you decided you’d just pick up one of Joel’s shirts from the pile of clean laundry you saw sitting atop the washing machine downstairs.
When you made it out the front door, the hose was away and his toolbox was resting on the ground by his feet. Joel was drying up his car with a cloth, and when he heard you hop down the steps and subsequently turned your way, you weren’t exactly expecting him to completely stumble at the sight of you in his shirt.
“Oh—You, uh, I thought you were gettin’ Sarah’s clothes?”
“I was, none of her tops fit so I grabbed one of yours from the laundry downstairs.” You absorbed Joel’s cryptic reaction and began to worry. “I’m sorry, Mr. Miller, I really should’ve asked—”
“—No, no, it’s fine. Really. Doesn't matter.”
Joel picked up his toolbox, then the both of you began walking over to your house. It wasn’t that far away at all, probably a couple of hundred feet at most, but he opted into small talk anyway.
“Um,” Joel began, “What’d you come over for in the first place? Didn’t really get a chance to ask ‘cause of this whole… debacle.”
You giggled at his old man vocabulary. Debacle.
“I wanted to help with your car, but looks like those plans got derailed.”
He breathed a polite laugh. “Yeah, well. Guess it turned out that way.”
Before an awkward silence could fall upon the both of you, your brain settled on something to bring up.
“Hey, my dad’s having that July 4th barbecue the day after tomorrow. You’re coming right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it, honey.”
Honey? Honey. Honey honey honey honey—
He cleared his throat. “Where is your dad, anyway?”
You were both standing on your porch now, Joel’s eyes raking you over as you fumbled with the front door.
“Um, I think he’s out working.”
“Great.”
Great?
Before you could ask him what he meant, Joel realized what he had said. “Wait, no, not great. I don’t—I don’t know why I said that. Sorry. I’m sorry.”
You pushed the door open. “Hey,” You brought a hand up to his chest and patted it, “You’ll give yourself a heart attack if you keep assuming all your mistakes are colossal and worthy of that much panic.”
His shoulders seemed to relax a little at that—you weren’t sure if it was your hand or your words that did it.
Eventually, you both found yourselves in your bedroom. You were sitting on the edge of your bed as you watched Joel work. Kneeling on one knee with a screwdriver in hand, he fumbled with one of the closet door’s hinges as he muttered little things to himself under his breath.
“Thanks for this, Mr. Miller.”
He turned to you, nodding as he seemed to process that he was in your bedroom. Your bedroom.
“So,” Joel began, as he dug through his toolbox, “Is your boyfriend visiting too? Or, y’know, girlfriend. Three months is a long ti—”
You softly smiled. “I don’t have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend.”
He turned to look at you again as he turned a screwdriver, this time scanning you over. “Hm, I don’t believe you. Sweet thing like you? Single?”
“Oh, stop,” You blushed, shooing him off.
Joel stood to his feet, dusting his hands off on his thighs. “All fixed. Next time you ne—”
“—I’ve never been in a relationship before. Actually.”
Joel stared at you for a moment before diverting his gaze to the ground. “I, um…”
“Sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. You don’t wanna know about my completely nonexistent dating history,” You lightly smacked your forehead, “Wait, it’s existent if we count the boy I dated for a week in fourth grade.”
Joel laughed, sitting down next to you on your bed. “It’s okay. I haven’t really dated anybody since Sarah’s mom, either. Long-term, anyways.”
“Yeah, well at least you’re not a virgin.”
Joel seemed to tense at that, and you immediately regretted saying it.
“Oh gosh,” You cringed, hands gripping your head, “I really just say anything, don’t I?”
Joel chuckled, head hung between his shoulders with his eyes squinted shut. You eventually laughed, too, simply because—and you realized it sounded stupid—Joel’s laughter was contagious.
“Alright, alright,” Joel beckoned, “Lemme be serious for a second. C’mere.”
You slumped down next to him, staring up at the ceiling before turning to make eye contact.
“That’s not something you have to worry about. You got time, honey, you’re in college. All that crap about late blooming isn’t real. It’s about whenever you’re ready, and whenever you find the right person to do it with.”
You smiled up at him softly. “Thanks, Mr. Miller.”
“Joel. Just Joel.”
You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him. So you stayed like that, searching his eyes for something you didn’t have the courage to say out loud.
“Joel,” You echoed, repeating his name back to him, bottom lip caught between your teeth.
“I, uh…” Joel trailed off, his gaze flitting down to your lips. “I…” He tried again, but it went nowhere.
You exhaled, and almost immediately, his hands cupped your face as he leaned forward and pressed a soft, fleeting kiss to your lips.
It was warm, and gentle, and amazing, and you didn’t know if you could ever let him stop kissing you with how delightful the scruff of his beard felt against your skin.
He did break the kiss after a few seconds, though, and it left you breathless. “Joel…”
His muscles seemed to visibly tense as he mistook your speechless state for confusion. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why—”
“—No. No, I liked it,” You smiled softly at him, “I, um, you know. Wouldn’t mind if you kissed me… again.”
With reassurance that you weren’t absolutely appalled, his limbs relaxed. He leaned forward again until he was kissing you. Slow at first, languid. But then it turned fervent and desperate, breaths being exchanged into one another's mouths as lips slotted together like fingers intertwined—so perfect, as if they were biologically designed to do so.
It wasn’t long until he had your back flat against your bed, and you felt his growing hardness dig into your hip.
“Y’know what that is, don’t you?”
You nodded hesitantly.
“You know why it’s there?”
You shrugged.
He gripped the fabric of your—no, his—shirt as his voice rumbled, “You prancin’ around in my shirt did that.”
Without a second thought, you clumsily palmed him there through the thick fabric of his jeans and reveled in the consequential shuddering moan he let out
“Joel, I don’t… I don’t think I know what I’m doing.”
“That’s okay, honey, I’ll teach you.”
Propping himself up with his elbow, he placed his hand atop your own and guided the movements of your open palm. Things like pressing your hand further into him so as to increase the pressure between his legs, and encouraging back-and-forth motions that had his hips rutting and his breath hitching.
Once you got the hang of it, he removed his hand from your own. You felt his hand snake down your neck, then the side of your torso. 
“I trust you,” You whispered, fingers playing with the happy trail peaking Joel’s pants, hoping to absolve him of any guilt or doubt.
But the second Joel’s fingertips grazed the waistband of your shorts, he froze. He was staring off somewhere to the right, so you followed his gaze until you found what he was so disturbed by.
A framed photo on your nightstand, one of you standing next to your dad on vacation in Maui.
You understood immediately; that picture was an astute reminder of exactly who’s daughter Joel was about to debauch.
Your hand fell away from his crotch as he leaned back on his haunches and ran his hands through his hair with worried eyes.
“Joel?” You whispered, but then he was completely backing off of you as he muttered curses under his breath. “Hey, no, come back. What’s wrong?”
It was a dumb question. You knew what was wrong. Even though you were well beyond legal, it seemed to mean little in the situation—the facts were, if he touched you, it was betrayal.
“This is…” Joel panted, standing to his feet and raking his hands through his hair, “I shouldn’t have… Fuck. Fuck. I have to go.”
And just like that, he was gone.
-
That night, your lights stayed on and you didn’t close your curtains.
You stripped yourself of Joel’s shirt first, going excruciatingly slow in case Joel happened to be watching through his neighboring window. You occasionally shot glances at his window on the off chance that the window illuminated, but you quickly realized if the two of you made eye contact that wouldn’t be good either. You’d gotten all the way down to your underwear before you spotted his light flick on from the corner of your eye.
So you did the first thing that came to mind; You turned your back to your window. Panties halfway down your legs, torso bent with your knees straightened as you slowly shed your clothing. Hoping. Hoping for him to avert his attention ever so slightly and accidentally catch you like this. Hoping he would think of it every time he talked to you.
Without ever making eye contact, you would never know if Joel actually saw anything, and he would never know you hadn’t actually “forgotten” to close your curtains.
No pressure on either of you.
You went to sleep with a hand shoved down the front of your panties as you thought of all the things you wanted Joel to do to you.
-
Ring. Ring. Ring.
Jesus. What time was it? You stretched until sleep left you and opened your eyes as wide as you could (not very wide at all). From what you could gather, the sun was definitely up. You, however, did not have the willpower required to read off of your phone screen 5 seconds after waking up, so you answered the phone without reading the contact.
“Hello?” You groaned, voice gruff from sleep.
“Oh, I’m sorry, did I wake you?”
You knew that voice anywhere. Almost immediately, you shot upright and cleared your throat as you rubbed your eyes. “Oh, hey Mr. Mill—uh, I mean, Joel,” You breathed a nervous laugh before remembering his question, “No. No, it’s okay I was like, basically awake already, um, so… what’s up? Why’d you—Why’d you call?”
“Right, so just to preface, I understand things are not... ideal... between us right now. But to be honest, you’re the only person available who I trust with this, and… let me just explain. I got called into work unexpectedly and Sarah’s gonna be home alone. Lately, she’s been getting into these rebellious fits, and I just don’t want to risk another situation where she sneaks out at night to meet up with her boyfriend again.”
“Sarah and rebellious fits? Really?”
“Yes, believe it or not. So do you think you could just hang around my place for, to be honest, a long while? It’s looking like I’m gonna be home really late tonight. Oh, and I can pay you.”
“Oh, shut up, you’re not paying me.”
Joel exhaled appreciatively through the phone. “Okay, well I’m home right now if you wanna come by and eat some breakfast. Least I could do. I gotta leave in like thirty minutes by the way, so. Take your time but also don’t take your time?”
You smiled, hoping he could hear it in your voice. “Yeah, I’ll be there soon.”
“Thanks, honey.”
Oh god. There it was again. You thought you might actually pass out, but you quickly turned off your racing brain enough to mutter a small “mhm” before abruptly hanging up.
Okay. Joel Miller. Your dad’s best friend, who was this close to absolving you of every ounce of innocence in your body… just asked you to watch his daughter. What could go wrong?
When you got to his house, he had left already (you definitely took too long in the shower). He did leave out a plate of food, though, along with the message, “Thanks again. Enjoy the pancakes,” scratched out on a post-it note.
And boy did it turn out to be a long day. Sarah wasn’t that much of a handful, she mostly took care of herself. The hard part was lunch.
You attempted to cook something for the two of you, but it only ended in disaster when you left the quiches in the oven for too long. Then you decided Penne a la Vodka couldn’t be that hard, and you couldn't be more wrong. A whole box of pasta was ruined because Sarah didn’t realize the pasta went in after the water boiled, not before. Eventually, you both just accepted defeat and ordered Panera Bread.
Later, Sarah popped into the living room to let you know she was going up to her room to take a nap, and you figured you’d do the same on the couch.
The last thing you read was the time on the cable box; 7:37.
-
Metal clanking. The turn of a key. The creaking of a door. The blaring siren of an alarm system.
“Jesus—Fuck. I thought I told her to turn off the alarm at 8.”
And Joel’s voice.
You jolted awake, blinking wide as you moved to sit upright on the couch. The time on the cable box was 11:50.
Soon, the alarm stopped, and not long after, Joel’s figure came into view. He was wearing a denim button-up with work pants and work boots.
“Hey,” Joel called, setting his things down next to the kitchen island.
“Hi,” You replied, “How was work?”
Joel gave you a polite smile before pulling open the refrigerator door to retrieve a beer. With his head still poked inside the fridge, he replied, “The usual.”
“Well, what was the usual li—”
“—Were you asleep?”
“Uh…" You cleared your throat in an effort to stall as you debated whether or not you would lie. "Yeah, I was. Sorry.”
Joel took a swig of his beer, staring at you from across the room for a minute before blurting out, “The usual is busy. Extremely busy and tedious. But, um, how was Sarah? Hope you weren’t asleep too long.”
“Nope,” You lied, “I Wasn’t asleep long at all. Sarah was great. We had a bit of trouble with lunch, but everything ended up fine.”
“Good. Good. Well you can head out now, thanks for taking care of her.”
No. You did not want to "head out." You rose to your feet. “Joel?”
He looked around as he swallowed his beer. “Uh, yeah?”
“I actually wanted to talk to you. About yesterday.”
He peered down at the ground, swishing around the bottle in his hand. “That’s—That’s okay, honey. I think it’s best we forget that happened.”
“What? But why?”
Joel crossed the room and sat down next to you, leaning back against the couch while you sat back down on the edge with your elbows resting on your knees.
“Come on,” He started, “Don’t act like you don’t know exactly why we’re… this… is impossible.”
“Joel, I—”
“—I’m sorry. You should get home now.”
You turned around to face him. “Joel. No one has to know.” 
“As I said, I’m sorry. I handled yesterday… terribly. There were a million different ways to go about that, and I somehow chose the worst one. But we don't work. We can't work.”
You felt your eyes begin to water, but you tried to push the feeling down.
“Hey, hey,” He lulled, the hardness of his attitude falling away as he noticed the sad shine in your eyes, “Don’t cry.” He pulled you against him, rubbing your shoulder firmly.
“Joel,” You mumbled in a small voice, sniffling against his denim shirt with a frown.
He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to justify what he was quickly realizing was inevitable. You were an adult, somebody else independent of your father. It was your choice who to get involved with, just like it was his. This was mutual.
He knew he would regret it later, but your innocence and desperation allured him to the point of no return.
“It’s late,” Joel began, voice gentle as he offered you one last out, “You should go home. You need sleep, you’re not thinking straight. I’ll call you in the morning.”
“No,” You replied, removing yourself from his body so you could look him in the eye. “I don’t want to leave. I want you to… I want you to do what you said you’d do.”
Knowing exactly what you were talking about, he redundantly asked in a whisper, “And what’s that?”
You wiped a stray tear as you clumsily moved to straddle his lap. Almost automatically, his hands found their way to your hips, his thumbs rubbing circles into the slivers of skin peeking between your cami tank top and the waistband of your shorts. But it seemed at some point his consciousness realized what he was doing because his hands suddenly dropped to his sides. And, well, you just wouldn’t have that, so you grabbed hold of his wrists and returned them to where they were settled on your hips before you rested your own hands on Joel’s chest.
“You remember, don’t you?” You shifted in his lap, “You said you’d teach me.”
“How to have sex.” He said it more like a confirmation rather than a question.
You blushed at his blatant use of the word. It was like every fifth thing coming out of his mouth was sending your brain spiraling. You cleared your throat. “Yeah. Yeah, sex. Blowjobs, orgasms, literal sex. All of it.”
Silence for a beat. “I have one condition,” Joel warned.
“Yeah, what is it?”
“The second I suspect your dad is onto us, that’s it. It’s over. No more messing around, none of it. I can’t lose my best friend.”
You nodded. You probably shouldn’t have agreed so easily, but you didn’t actually think you and Joel would ever get caught.
“Okay, then,” Joel whispered. “Good. What do you wanna do first? Start off easy.”
You looked around the room nervously, careful not to make eye contact as you spoke. “Like. I dunno. Maybe for right now, I could just… touch you. Touch it, I mean.”
Joel nodded, and when your breathing began to grow the slightest bit uneven from nervousness, he noticed and rubbed your upper arm reassuringly. “Hey. Relax. Climb down and sit right there on the ground between my legs, and I’ll show you where to start.”
And so you did. Joel peered down at you with heavy lids as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and thus began your first lesson.
“Unbuckle my pants.”
With shaky hands, you removed his belt and undid his fly. You couldn’t explain why, but as soon as you caught sight of the bulge in his boxers, your mouth watered.
“What…” You began, “What now?”
“Whatever feels comfortable.”
With a light, feathery touch, you delicately traced a singular finger along the outline of his cock. Joel shivered at the contact, hands shooting to grip the sofa. Touching it felt different this time, more intense because you could feel every ridge and vein; you blamed it on the much thinner fabric dividing your fingers and his cock.
Your breath shuddered before speaking, “Can I take it ou—”
“—Yes, God, yes.”
You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, pulling downwards until his cock sprang free. It was thick, long, and wet at the tip, and you found yourself instinctively leaning further into it.
“Okay,” Joel sighed shakily, “Now just form a circle with your fingers and stroke it.”
You did as Joel said, and when your fingers finally made contact with his cock, you sighed at how velvety the skin was there. Soft and smooth, except for the trimmed hair surrounding the base. You stroked him steadily, biting your lip as you watched the wetness leaking from his tip spread down his shaft.
“Twist at the tip, honey, twist at the—Yeah, just like that. So good, you’re doing so good.” You couldn’t help but smile when Joel tilted his head back from the pleasure of it all.
With Joel still reeling from the contact of your hand, you took his momentary refusal to look down at you as an opportunity to surprise him a little.
You leaned forward and kitten-licked his tip, and it had him finally making eye contact with you as he whispered, “Oh, do that again.”
And so you did, adoring the look of pleasure strewn across Joel’s face.
Joel offered you a quick, crooked grin. “How’s it feel?” He asked, brushing his thumb along your bottom lip as your tongue played with his tip.
You pulled away for a moment to respond, “How’s what feel?”
“Licking a man’s cock.”
You let the spit that had gathered in your mouth drip down onto his length. “I have the urge to do more with it.”
“Like what?”
“Like put it all the way in my mouth.”
And so kitten licks turned into long stripes up his shift, which turned into eager suckling on his tip, which turned into forcing his cock down as far as it could go without making you gag.
Joel’s hand gripped the back of your head, but he never pushed you down. Whenever you did accidentally end up gagging, he petted your hair, mumbling encouragements as best he could through the blinding pleasure. Things like, “Yeah, honey, doing so good. That’s it. Just a little more. Mhm.” And his affectionate nature, his gentleness, his reassuring words—he was exactly how you hoped he would be like. Not to mention, the general hotness of it all had your hips canting down against nothing, in desperate search of relief.
“M’close, sweetheart. Take it—Take it out.”
“I don’t wanna,” You replied in a hoarse voice as you jacked him off.
“You’re not ready for that, honey, just take it out. Take it out.”
You reluctantly complied, removing him from the tight heat of your mouth, drool dripping down your chin as you stroked him rapidly.
“Joel, I… I think I’m wet.”
He moaned a curse at that, his chest rising and falling in rapid breaths as his orgasm approached him. “Jesus f-fuckin’… Tell me more.”
“I need you to touch it for me next time. Please. Maybe you could… Maybe you could put your mouth on it like how I put my mouth on you.”
“Yes, yes, oh fuck, I’m cumming, don’t stop stroking it,” Joel moaned, hot white spurts shooting up and all over your hand as you stroked him through it.
With his breathing still labored, he panted out in a high voice, “You’re lying. You’re f-fucking lying. Tell me the truth.”
“About what?”
“This isn’t—You’ve done this before. No way you made me cum this hard and it’s your first time.”
“Well,” You breathed a nervous laugh, “That’s flattering. But you’re my first. Trust me.”
When his orgasm fully subsided, Joel lay slumped against the sofa with his legs spread wide. You remained between them with your head resting on his thigh as you just stared at his cock. Took it all in, every curve, every vein, and inevitably, the cum that spurted itself over the surrounding area.
“What are you doing?” Joel chuckled, petting your hair as you smiled.
“I’m… I don’t know really. I just can’t stop looking at it.”
But then curiosity got the best of you, and you began to drag your fingers through the mess at his base. It caught Joel off-guard, his entire body stiffening as he watched you.
“What does it taste like?” You asked quietly as you examined the cum on your fingers. 
“Oh my god,” Joel groaned through his labored breathing, “I swear, if you do what I think you’re about to do, I’ll be hard again in five seconds.”
“I’ll take my chances,” You joked, bringing your finger to your mouth and licking it clean, ultimately wincing at the taste. “It’s like, bitter. And salty. And kinda sweet. But mostly bitter and salty. To be honest, it’s kinda nasty but I can see myself getting used to it.”
“Wow,” Joel sighed, “You just really know how to set the mood. Make things real romantic.”
“Oh, shut it,” You huffed, playfully swatting his thigh before getting up and plopping down next to him on the sofa as he got to work stuffing himself back into his pants despite the mess he made—that was a problem for future Joel. 
“Gonna miss you, little Joel,” You joked to his crotch.
“Oh my god, you’re the worst,” Joel chuckled painfully with his fists in his eyes. “I’m never letting you near ‘little Joel’ again.”
“Mm, no, because I just made you cum so hard you thought I was lying about being a virgin.”
He sighed at that. “You got me there.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
You both laughed at that; In fact, you both were laughing a lot. And at everything. In your head, you blamed it on the ecstatic high of being in each other’s presence this way.
When the mutual laughter died down, Joel looked at you for a moment, admiring you. Then, slow and hesitant as ever, he leaned in to kiss you.
“Do you taste it?” You whispered, breaking the kiss as you fought another giggle.
“Yes, actually. Wait, don’t say it please, this is actually a nice moment—”
“—Your cum!” You loud-whispered.
Another sigh. “My cum.”
You eagerly kissed him back after that, swearing off mood-breaking jokes for the rest of the night. Eventually, you even became too tired to kiss, simply letting your forehead rest against his. Your eyes fluttered shut as his hand snaked up your leg and inched under the leg of your shorts, using force to push your legs open wider.
“Need me to take care of this?” He asked into your mouth before letting his kisses travel down to your neck.
“Joel,” You breathed, breaths beginning to come out in rapid succession as your hips gyrated in response to how dangerously close Joel’s hand was to your pussy. “I… I’m tired.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to do a thing,” Joel breathed, removing his hand from beneath your shorts in order to pull down the waistband. “It’s a yes or no question. Just give me a yes or a no.”
Your breath hitched as you opened your eyes and stared at the little bit of empty space left between you and Joel. The throbbing between your legs was bad, but it was something about the delayed gratification of saving things for later that stopped you from saying yes. “No, I… I think that’s it for tonight.”
Joel withdrew his hand, reassuringly cracking a brief smile. “Hey, uh, spend the night. It’s way too late, I’ll sleep on the couch.”
You shrugged. “Yeah, but what about Sarah?” 
“I came home super late, you fell asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you.”
You thought about it for a second before agreeing. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Thank you. But I’m taking the couch.”
“What? No—”
“—Joel. I’m taking the couch.”
He looked at you skeptically but then agreed. “If you change your mind just let me know.”
“I will. Goodnight.”
Joel squeezed your leg before getting up and making his way to the stairs. “Goodnight.”
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cameronspecial · 2 months
Note
Rafe x reader - camping trip with both families, they are made to share a tent. Maybe she forgets her bedcover and rafe offers his but she doesn’t accept it. She then gets cold and he warms her up.
Flirting, kissing, body warming naked
Stubborn Little Girl
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Sexual Jokes and Being Naked Together In A Non-Sexual Situation
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 1.0K
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Everyone knows Y/N is stubborn. She can’t be swayed to change her choices for anything and it drives people crazy, especially because it means she won’t admit when she made a bad call. Her parents tried to warn her that she would need more than what she packed for their camping trip, yet she wouldn’t listen. She already decided what she needed and argued that since she was an adult, she didn’t need her parents' input. This belief doesn’t change even with Rafe’s concern. Rafe and Y/N just finished putting up their tent and she is dragging all their stuff inside of it. He looks through the trees to the other clearing where their parents and siblings are setting up camp. There wasn’t enough space for both of the families to be in the bigger clearing, so they agreed that the oldest siblings would share a tent in the small clearing a few feet away. He watches as she pulls out her blow-up mattress because of course, a Kook will glamp. She pumps her mattress and exits the tent. “Aren’t you going to put any bedding on it?” Rafe questions, pointing to the bare plastic. She shrugs, “Nah. I’ll wear a hoodie to sleep. I should be fine.” “It’s supposed to get colder at night, Kitten. You’ll need actual blankets,” Rafe points out. Y/N rolls her eyes, “How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that, Cameron? And I’m a grown woman. I don’t need you to tell me what to do.” 
She body-checks him as she passes them toward their families. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he yells after her with a shake of his head. Even though they’ve known each other since they were little, Y/N and Rafe have always had a hot and cold relationship. Cordial moments would quickly turn to an argument with the snap of their fingers and vice versa. They may have been closer in age than the other siblings, but Y/N bonded better with his sisters because their gender gave them more in common, while Rafe took her little brother under his wing. It may not have been a great idea to put Rafe and Y/N in the same tent, except it is the only option they had. 
———
After hiking, eating dinner and spending time around the bond fire, everyone returns to their tent. Sleep can’t fall upon Rafe because he can hear the constant rustling coming from Y/N’s mattress. He tilts his head to the side and catches her movement. She keeps switching from side to side, always bringing her legs in toward her chest and her arms wedged between the two. He can see the shivers that wave through her body. Rafe sighs and peels his blanket off of him. He shifts to one side of his mattress. “Come on,” he orders. She looks at him with a crease between her eyebrows, “I’m fine.” “Don’t be ridiculous, Kitten. You are freezing,” he asserts, getting up to pull her by his side. She struggles against him, “I said I’m fine, Cameron. I don’t need your help.” She won’t budge; however, Rafe knows how to get her mind to waver. “Stop being a stubborn little girl. If you get sick, then who is going to take care of Steven after school?”
She freezes at the mention of her little brother, processing the truth of Rafe’s words. Although her parents are Kooks who can afford a nanny, ten-year-old Steven is taken care of after school by his big sister. He is extremely introverted and doesn’t like to be left alone with strangers, so Y/N takes care of him whenever she can. Rafe has seen her loyalty to her family and figures it would be the only thing to get her to change her mind. It does. She stops resisting his hold and rests her body against his. Her front accidentally presses against his front and she feels the stiff member in his pants. She giggles, “Are you sure the only reason why you wanted me in your bed is because I was cold?” His face reddens and he pulls her hips away. “Shut up,” he groans. Eventually, he begins to chuckle with her. The laughter dies down, but her shaking doesn’t stop and this worries Rafe. “I think we both need to strip naked,” he suggests, already preparing to take off his shirt. This causes her to completely detach from him, “Woah, slow down, Cameron. Just because you are nice to me, it doesn’t mean I’m going to have sex with you, especially with our families so close by.” He shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant. You are shaking like an earthquake and we needed to get you warmed up,” he explains. 
“And how is getting naked going to help me with that?”
“Because my body heat will help warm up yours. I promise this isn’t for any funny business. I just don’t want you to get a cold.”
“You really think this is going to work?”
“I promise.”
She doesn’t voice her agreement and instead, begins to remove her clothes herself. Rafe follows her movement until they are completely nude. They avoid the temptation of looking at their private areas by looking at each other in their eyes. The silence is broken up with laughter. “This is definitely not awkward,” she jokes, placing her hand above her elbow. He places his hand on top of hers, “It doesn’t have to be.” She tilts her head to the side as he brings his face closer to hers. His lips pucker and he gives her enough time to pull away before their lips touch. She closes the distance, lacing her fingers through his hair to bring him closer. His hands fall on her hip to tug her closer to him. They break the kiss for air and place their foreheads against each other’s. “Thank god you are such a stubborn little girl,” he whispers. Kisses and giggles fill the tent until both of them fall asleep from exhaustion and newfound warmth. 
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming
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explicit-tae · 2 months
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when is the next part of ungodly hour please tell me 😫
right here! introudcing a request that a few people has been wanting to see
Ungodly Hour (8)
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Fuck Chaeyoung and Jimin for always being able to figure out when something is wrong with you.
word count: 2.684
“Girl,” Chaeyong’s voice says over the phone. It echos off of the bathroom walls. She’s watching you as you violently brush your teeth and in the process of scrubbing your tongue, a look of disgust on your face. Your phone is leaning against one of the toothbrush holders and she appears visibly amused.  “maybe you’re pregnant.”
You choke, feeling yourself ready to vomit again - this time due to Chaeyoung’s words. Your eyes widen and you stare back at your phone for a moment. Spitting the toothpaste and rinsing your mouth, you turn off the water. 
“Don’t,” you say with gritted teeth. “start that shit again.”
Chaeyoung rolls her eyes. She’s in the process of making herself a sandwich. She shakes her head as she butters her bread. “You missed your period and you’re throwing up. What else can it be?” Chaeyoung was indeed correct. But, your periods were often irregular so that could never be a sign of pregnancy. You’ve gone two months without it before just for it to come on a random Wednesday work shift.
“I’m on birth control.”
“That’s never 100% effective.” Chaeyoung scoffs. “People get pregnant while on birth control all the time.”
Chaeyoung was right again and you could only sigh. You want to blame your sudden nausea on food poisoning. Maybe something you ate just didn’t sit right with you - that’s always a possibility. Maybe you were just getting sick as the seasons changed. Pregnancy would be the last of your options as anything could be possible.
“Let’s not forget that your boyfriend often has to remind you to take said birth control.”
“Shut up.” you grumble, snatching your phone and making your way out of the bathroom. You hated when Chaeyoung was right because it only meant that your mind would be wandering on the possibilities. 
“I can’t be pregnant now. That means I’ll have a Scorpio.” you murmur, crashing down against Jungkook’s bed, silk sheets inviting you in. “There’s enough birthdays in November as it is. It’ll completely ruin the vibe.”
“You should’ve thought about that before you were being a whore on Valentine’s day.” Chaeyoung sing-songs, her sandwich now complete and she munches onto it happily. “Can’t blame you. Jungkook did go all out like always.”
You’re positive you know just where it all began and like Chaeyoung said, Jungkook had to be the dramatic type that made you want to fuck him. The amount of roses you walked into had to be costly and you’re sure he must’ve bought out half of the store alone. The gifts, the home cooked meals along with the low music, champagne…
“Fuck Jeon Jungkook.” you grumble, throwing your phone beside you so Chaeyoung can see your view - the ceiling and she’s positive you were wallowing in self pity.
Truly, Fuck Jeon Jungkook and the way you can never seem to stay off of him.
It took a week for you to decide to get a pregnancy test that you were sure would be negative regardless. You weren’t going to let Chaeyoung’s words of despair get to you - and you were only taking this test to prove to her (and yourself) that you weren’t pregnant and that whatever is going on with you was just a mere sickness.
The brown paper bag sits on the bathroom counter and has been for hours now. Jungkook wasn’t the one to check what wasn’t his and you’re unsure why you’re hesitant on taking it.
It’s Sunday now and that meant that not only was Jungkook here, but so was Namjoon, Hoseok, Taehyung and Jimin. They gather in the living room, movie blasting throughout the space and you walk by without any of them batting an eye.
All except Jimin as he was the only one who ever wanted to humor you and this fake beef you two held for one another.
“Well, well…you finally decided to join us.” Jimin calls, eyes watching as you make your way towards the kitchen. 
“Fuck off, Jimin.”
Taehyung snorts, allowing a few chuckles to be released.
Jimin looks around, wondering why in the world you could possibly tell him to fuck off out of all people. Of course, he didn't because he was Jimin. This causes him to sit forward and tilt his head.
“You look different.” Jimin notes, eyes taking in your appearance. This causes Jungkook’s head to turn to see whatever it was that Jimin saw.
Jungkook’s eyes being on you causes goosebumps to litter your skin and you desperately want to tell Jimin to fuck off again, but that wouldn’t do any good.
“You look…healthy.” Jimin’s eyes begin to squint a bit, his head tilting to the other side.
“Healthy?” you snicker with a roll of your eyes. “What the fuck did I look before?”
“Ugh, Y/N, shut up.” Jimin stands, making his way around the couch and towards you. You can feel Jungkook’s eyes on you and his friend, but he remains silent. “You look…dare I say glowy.”
You click your tongue inside your mouth. Jimin’s tone is different, almost as if confused. His eyes study you closely.
“If I didn’t know you, Jimin, I would say you’re flirting with me.” you turn away and go towards the box of pizza on the counters. 
Jimin cackles. “As if I would go for anyone like you.” 
“That’s a lot coming from a man like you.” you bite back. “I know exactly what girls you like.”
Jimin swallows back his words, a soft tint to his cheeks. No one was ever going to let him live down what that bitch said. “I pay for Onlyfan’s once and suddenly I’m the one being laughed at.” he grumbles to himself.
“I actually like her. She humbles you and it’s exactly what you need.” you open a box of pizza - pepperoni. You grab at it and inhale, the smell reaches your nose and instantly you drop it right back into the box.
Jimin’s eyebrows furrow at your actions, watching you closely. His arms begin to cross and it’s as if alarm bells were going off in his head. 
“You little slut.” Jimin smirks.
Your stomach churns and you can feel the increase of saliva inside your mouth. You let out a shaky breath.
“You…that’s why you look so glowy. It’s too soon to look like this now…” Jimin speaks - mainly to himself. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”
It happens entirely too fast and maybe this was just Jimin’s karma for annoying you constantly. You appear to be stuck, completely frozen in place, when you vomit entirely onto him. The man screeches and gags at the warm vomit hitting his chest. 
Jungkook is on his feet immediately, coming to your side. He places a hand onto your back, a look of concern on his face. “Y/N? Baby, are you okay?”
“What the fuck?!” Jimin hisses, eyes wide with disbelief. “I’m the one with stomach acid on me! Can someone ask if I’m okay?”
“This isn’t about you right now.” Jungkook waves him off. “Come, let’s get you cleaned up.”
“She…oh wow.” Jimin watches in disbelief as Jungkook ushers you away. His shirt sticks to him sickeningly. 
Hoseok is the first to laugh, shaking his head at Jimin. 
“What just happened?” Namjoon questions.
Now you feel like crying out of embarrassment as Jungkook brings you into the bathroom. “Do  you still need to throw up? Was it something you ate earlier?” he asks, his mind going on a thousand different possibilities on how you could be sick right now. 
“N-No, I’m fine.” you murmur, pushing yourself away from him and going to brush your teeth again. Your body is hot - mainly due to humiliation of having vomited on Jimin. You wouldn’t be this embarrassed if it was just Jimin there, because well, fuck him. But the other’s…
You groan, scrubbing the taste of vomit out of your mouth.
Jungkook watches closely. 
“You’re not fine. Are you sick?” he questions. “You probably need some medicine.”
Jungkook looks around the bathroom for a moment, his eyes dropping on the brown paper bag that’s folded in half. He looks at it for a moment. “Is this medicine you got earlier or-”
“No!”
It isn’t your intention to snatch the bag out of his hands the way you do. Jungkook is taken aback by your actions, eyes widening slightly. He takes a step back, apologetic about touching something that wasn’t his. 
“I-I mean-”
“It’s okay.” Jungkook shakes his head. He swallows. “I’m…going to clean up out there. I’ll be back.”
Jungkook leaves the bathroom and now you feel worse than before. You shut off the water and groan.
You don’t want Jungkook to think that him trying to help was a bad decision. The paper bag is crumbling in your grasp and it’s a sign that you can no longer put off the contents on what’s inside of it.
You were a grown woman and a little pregnancy test shouldn’t scare you. You’ve dealt with tougher scenarios and this was outside of your character. Your mother didn’t raise you to be a scared bitch.
So you took the test - ripping the bag open entirely and then the rectangular box. It happens all under a minute and you realize this is the first time you ever took a pregnancy test.
You placed the top onto the test and put it on top of the brown paper bag as you await for what it says.
“Five minutes…” you murmur to yourself.
Jungkook doesn’t expect to see you so soon. He’s cleaning up a bit of vomit from the floor when you enter the kitchen. He had already managed to get everyone out of the home as Jimin ripped off the shirt and hurled it into the trash before exiting himself. He offers a smile your way. “Feeling better?”
“I’m such a bitch.” you sigh with a shake of your head.
Jungkook snickers. “What do you mean?” he asks. “You shouldn’t talk about yourself that way.”
“Shut up and stop being so nice.” you grumble. “I shouldn’t have acted that way in the bathroom. I’m just…” you inhale deeply. Your mother would have surely given you a mouth full if she saw the way you treated her precious Jungkook.
Jungkook continues to clean the rest of the mess before turning back to you. He notices you’re completely still, watching his every move. 
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jungkook takes a few steps closer to you. “You got a fever or something?”
Jungkook’s hands are soft but a bit cool to the touch. He touches your forehead and rubs it down towards your cheek. 
“You don’t feel warm.” Jungkook comments. “I…” you trail off, unable to shake the look of Jungkook’s eyes off of you. “...my mother didn’t raise a scared bitch.” you repeat the same words aloud and it causes Jungkook to laugh.
“What do you mean-”
“I might be pregnant.” you interrupt him, needing to get the weight off of your shoulders. And you’re surprised that it did. You exhale with a raise of your brows. “That was easier than I thought it’d be.”
You look Jungkook in the eye, his doe ones staring intently back at you.
“I took a test.” you continue. “That’s what was inside the brown paper bag and why I snatched it the way I did.”
For once Jungkook is silent and it causes your stomach to churn again - this time with nerves. He’s so silent that you’re unable to read his expression.
Standing in front of him becomes a bit awkward and you’re anxious to get out of this situation entirely. 
“I’m gonna go…” you go to move yourself and this is what causes Jungkook to snap himself back into reality.
“I was processing your words.” Jungkook shakes his head, dropping his hand from your cheek. “Sorry…” he murmurs, blinking a few times. “...How long have you…suspected it?”
You take a deep breath then scoff. “I’ve been in denial. With Chaeyoung and Jimin it’s hard to not face reality.”
Jungkook hums, he suppose that’s why you threw up on Jimin so suddenly.
“I can’t read you.” you murmur, avoiding Jungkook’s gaze. “You’re usually…more readable.”
“Would you be upset if you were pregnant right now?”
Now that you had admitted to him that there was a possibility of pregnancy, he wants to be open with you. He wants to hear your thoughts and feelings about the situation. 
“It’s not ideal.” you shrug your shoulders, pondering on the question. “Would you?” “No.” Jungkook admits. “Of course not. I love you.”
You sigh. Fuck Jeon Jungkook and how understanding he was.
“But I also know this isn’t something you want…” Jungkook lets his hand touch your cheek once more and now you allow your eyes to meet his. 
“Well, duh.” you scoff. “I still haven’t met your parents. They're going to think I’m a whore if I just show up pregnant.” you’re only half joking but just the thought of meeting his parents and having to deliver news of a pregnancy just sounded backwards.
“They wouldn’t!” Jungkook insists. “My mom’s been dying to meet you.” he admits. He had to convince his mother countless times to not just show up randomly at his home and take matters into her own hands. “I've just been waiting for you to be ready. There isn’t a rush.”
Jungkook’s thumb traces the outline of your lips. He smiles down at you.
“Stop smiling. You’re supposed to be…”
Jungkook furrows a brow. “Suppose to be what? Mad?” he snorts - it’s almost as if you didn’t know him entirely. He had already planned the wedding in his mind and exactly how many kids he wanted to have with you (if you allowed). 
“Well I wasn’t expecting you to look so fucking excited, either.” you hiss, lightly pushing at his chest. “The test can be negative, you know. It could be fatigue or my blood sugar could be high or low…”
Jungkook nods his head at your words, listening to you. “Or, you can be pregnant,” he states. “Either or, I want what’s best for you. One step at a time.”
You nod your head at him and allow your cheek to nestle into his palm. 
“We can check together.” Jungkook leans closer to you, his nose tickling yours. “And we’ll do what we need to do from there.”
Jungkook pecks your lips in a comforting kiss. It’s weird to see how domesticated the two of you are - how comfortable. You would’ve never seen yourself entertaining someone like Jungkook a year ago, but now you and he are together constantly. You feel at home when you’re  around him; at ease when you’re in his warm embrace. Your heart is full whenever you’re around him and it yearns whenever you’re away for too long.
Fuck Jeon Jungkook and the way he has made you soft for him; this wasn’t suppose to be. You were supposed to finish college as independently as possible and focus on a career until you decided you were ready to entertain anyone.
How the tables truly turned.
“I’m scared.”
Jungkook wraps his arms around you, chin resting on your shoulder. The test is a few feet away and none of you can see the answer on it just yet.
“This is the first time you’ve admitted you are scared.” Jungkook teases. “I thought your mother didn’t raise a scared bitch.”
“Fuck you.”
“I did and this is why we’re in this predicament.” Jungkook retorts coolly. “We’ll check together, okay?”
“Okay.” you nod your head. 
Jungkook and you step further into the bathroom and you grab the test. You turn around to face him, looking into his anticipating eyes. “So…do we both look or do I look and tell you or-”
“You’re procrastinating again, baby.” Jungkook places his hand on top of yours. “We’ll look together.”
Jungkook’s eyes lowers to the test in your hands just as yours does. The test tightens in your grasp as you look down at the letters on the small screen.
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See the Future (Final Part)
@minaamhh @suciedad-divina @satisfied18 @y2k5bby @petalsofink @swga-ficrecs @rrrapmonste-rr @xtrataerrestrial @bangctans @danielle143 @taekritimin123 @thelilbutifulthings @jksjx @tasha-0795 @busanbby-jjk @joonlover1207 @hollowtree11 @amberpanda99 @parkinglot-nights @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @hoseokteardrop @jingerbreadoutofstock @subtaegguk @ultimatebasura
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bwabys-scenarios · 1 month
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Hihi! Just wanted to say I absolutely LOVE your works esp the kurapika ones
Soo basically they take the reader out shopping specifically for undergarments and someone just so happens to walk in while they’re changing? Maybe w the phantom troupe + kurapika?
Panties and such(NSFW)
!!REPOSTS APPRECIATED!!
A/N: I’m going to assume you mean that the character walks in on reader, but if you meant a random person, sorry 😭🙏 also I’m only doing a two from the phantom troupe, doing all of them is just too much. I’ll do a part two if enough people want it, though! 🫡 REQUESTS OPEN! JOIN MY SERVER
characters: Kurapika, Chrollo, Feitan
warnings: creampie, reader wears lingerie, semi-public sex in Kurapika’s
NSFW: @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @pannacottababy @aliceattheart @atransmuter
‼️If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned!‼️
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Kurapika
-you brought up the fact you wanted new panties, and he nodded along before processing what you said.
-“d-did you say… panties? As in… underwear?”
-a little flustered, but he insists on taking you, and paying for whatever you want.
-he brings you to a lingerie store, pouting when everyone assumes he’s a woman. that does work in his favor tho
-he keeps bringing you different sets of lingerie to try on, and he’s starting to get horny imagining you in each pair.
-eventually he pushes himself inside the dressing room, eyes going wide and cock hardening in his pants when he sees you pulling up a pair of lacy panties.
-he pushes them to the side, slipping his cock into you and pushing you up against the wall. “s-so pretty, angel…”
-you leave the store with several new sets of lingerie… some of them a bit… sticky…
Chrollo
-he’s the one that suggested it.
-“my love, it seems you don’t have much lingerie. You know how I’d just love to see you covered in lace, don’t you?”
-he takes you to the most well known, expensive lingerie store in the area.
-he’s a bit picky, and takes forever choosing what options for you to try on. He settled on mostly black lingerie, with a few pink and red sets… and one white one, with little angel wings on the top.
-Chrollo helps you into each set, his fingers gently tracing your figure. “Just gorgeous… oh my love, you look like an angel sent from above.”
-he’s quick to purchase every set you try on, and soon as you get home he’s on top of you, his teeth nipping at your jaw as his cock sinks into you.
-“that’s my pretty girl, so good for me…”
-he takes you out for dinner later that night, insisting you wear the lingerie he fucked you in. You spend the entire dinner feeling his cum oozing out of you, embarrassed as he stares at you with utter love and adoration.
Feitan
-“Bras? Don’t care about that. Steal it if want it.”
-that’s usually how it went when you asked Feitan to go shopping with you for anything. Either he’d say he didn’t care, or he’d offer to just steal it for you.
-so that’s how you ended up following him to the lingerie store in the middle of the night. He easily broke in, guiding you by the hand through the dark store until the two of you reached the lingerie.
-“okay. Pick your favorite.”
-you huffed at him, looking through the selection. “I’ve gotta try it on first…”
-you stripped, and this got Feitan excited enough… but he started stroking himself when you pulled on a pair of lacy panties.
-he continued to jerk off to you, until you caught him in the mirror.
-“F-Fei!”
-you blushed, but felt strangely flattered… “I’ll take care of it…”
-you sat in front of him, leaning down to take his cock in your mouth. “F-fuck…”
-seeing your pretty lips wrapped around his cock, your ass perched in the air was enough to have him cumming in no time.
-he helped carry home as many sets of lingerie as you wanted… maybe he liked seeing you like that more than he thought.
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wheeboo · 1 month
Text
laundry day | hansol vernon chwe
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SYNOPSIS. in which it's laundry day and you're in a bit of an embarrassing predicament. PAIRING. hansol vernon chwe x gn!reader (however, sorta implied that reader is more leaning toward fem) GENRE. fluff, humour?, best friends/roommates to lovers WARNINGS. cursing, vernon is checking reader out lowkey, reader embarrassingly wears hello kitty underwear i don't make the rules, ik vernon is mainly chill but in this they bicker <3, this was very stupid n silly lmfao WORD COUNT. 1.6k
requested from @weird-bookworm: lemme be annoying already— noni + #16 and #59 from list 1!! - #16: "You hugged me like your personal pillow." - #59: "Laundry day doesn’t mean walking around in your underwear, but for you, I’ll make an exception."
notes: i'm never good with writing humour but i thought of this stupid scenario and idk how i feel BYEE (cuz ur girl lowkey struggled on figuring out how to put #59 in the story lmao) tysm for submitting this in sky <3 and ty @bananabubble for reading it over for me!
join the 2k celebration!
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You are so stupid.
So fucking stupid.
How could you let yourself get carried away in loading all your laundry that you forgot to save a pair of pants to wear in the meantime?
You replay everything in your head: your overflowing, neglected laundry basket, the utter satisfaction you felt after loading it... right up until the moment you realised every single pair of pants you own was now basically swimming around in a goddamn whirlpool, and now you're left sporting nothing but your underwear and a shirt that didn't offer much coverage than expected.
You let out an annoyed groan, burying your face into your hands and mentally slapping yourself in the face. The chill of your room sends a trail of goosebumps running up the exposed skin of your legs. There really was nothing you could do but wait for your laundry to finish.
Then your head shoots back up, and maybe your bedroom lights up a bit brighter at your metaphorical lightbulb moment, because you think of Vernon. He's the only other option you have.
Tip-toeing up to your closed door, a bit of hesitancy gnaws at you for being so dumb, before you yell out, "Vernon!"
He's probably in the living room right now𑁋you can overhear the faint music of the record player the two of you snagged at this vintage thrift store the other week. A very good and lucky find, nonetheless.
Taking another (and maybe regrettable) deep breath, you call out again, a little louder this time. "Vernon! Can you hear me?"
The music seems to dip down slightly, and after a moment, the record stops spinning, replaced by the sound of footsteps approaching the door. You brace yourself for the door to swing open to reveal the embarrassing state you're in right now, but it doesn't.
Instead, you hear Vernon's voice respond to you through the door, "Yeah?"
"Uh..." You bite your lip because you can't believe you're about to ask this. "Do you have, um... a pair of pants or shorts I can borrow? I'll give it back to you tomorrow."
For a moment you think he didn't hear you because it's completely silent on the other side of the door, and it does absolutely nothing at calming down your racing heart. You see, you probably should be fine with walking around in your underwear with Vernon because he's your best friend and roommate and he definitely would not judge at all, but it's simply not that simple𑁋
"Did you, like, spill Monster on yourself again?" Vernon asks casually, as if it was the most normal thing in the world that you would do (it's happened one too many times).
"Yes, I mean, no, I mean𑁋look, just fetch me a pair and I'll bring it back to you later?"
"Uh, yeah, about that..." He pauses. "I'm wearing my only pair right now since you loaded yours first."
You really should've considered that being best friends with Vernon meant collectively sharing the brain cell of procrastinating when it comes to doing your laundry. Great, just absolutely fantastic. This was very much how you wanted your day to go. Perhaps this is why you're best friends, after all.
"Well, shit," You murmur, more to yourself but Vernon hears it anyway.
"Look, I'm sure it's not that bad, right?" Does he seriously still think you spilled Monster on yourself? "You could probably just𑁋"
You can hardly act by the time the doorknob twists and Vernon peeks his head around the door. But the second he catches sight of you, his eyes flicker over you, before he quickly averts his gaze to the Radiohead poster on your wall. Was it the lighting in your room that's making his face look pink?
You stand there awkwardly, suddenly feeling so exposed in front of him as if some sort of gigantic spotlight was shining down on you. It's not like you haven't been half-naked around each other before, but this feels different... somehow. You don't know why, or maybe you don't want to know.
A cough erupts from Vernon, breaking the sudden silence.
"Oh, wow, um..." He toys with the black hoodie around his head. "I didn't look. I swear."
His eyes dart everywhere except back to you, lingering on the Radiohead poster, the slightly askew picture frame on your desk, just anywhere but you. You don’t know whether to feel relieved or embarrassed.
"Ugh, I'm so stupid." You run a frustrated hand through your hair. "And I have this meeting for work in an hour and I know the laundry won't be done by then. I'm actually screwed."
Vernon thinks for a minute. "You can't like... virtually attend the meeting?
"No."
"Or it can't be postponed?"
"Nope."
"What if I file you as a missing person to the police?"
"You're seriously no help, dude," You say, giving him a light shove to the shoulder, but it's hard to suppress the curve to your lips and the small chuckle that leaves your mouth when you see him fall back dramatically.
Vernon snorts lightly. "Well, it's probably better than showing up to work in your Hello Kitty underwear𑁋"
"You said you didn't look, you idiot!" You exclaim furiously, and Vernon literally does not see the way a pillow practically spawns in your grasp and flinging toward him before he can even react. The pillow hits him square in the chest, causing him to stumble backward with a surprised yelp. "Oh my god, just report me missing at this point."
Vernon just laughs as he catches his breath to stand back up, grabbing the pillow up the floor and lifting it up like a shield as if to defend himself from you. Your face is burning brighter than the lava lamp glowing on your bedside table.
"This is so embarrassing," You mutter sheepishly, wanting to unleash another defeated groan again. "I can't believe I'm this stupid to forget to..."
"You're cute."
"...and then I'm probably going to get fired𑁋what?"
Vernon tosses the pillow back onto your bed and clears his throat.
"I said you're really dumb."
That is not what he said.
For a second, the disastrous situation seems to lighten up just a little bit, and your heart is doing some intense, unrhythmic tap dance against your ribs. You heard exactly what he said𑁋that he called you cute in this ungodly predicament𑁋and now he's trying to brush it off?
Vernon cracks a teasing, boyish smile. "And stupid, yeah. You're not wrong about that."
You open your mouth to retort, but the words get caught in your throat, almost like a choked sound coming out instead. So you point an interrogative finger and step closer to him (and yes, still in your underwear), eyebrows furrowing together.
"You called me cute," You state, all firm and serious now.
Vernon's playful look falters slightly, expression shifting to something a bit more guarded now. He rubs a hand at the back of his neck, that nervous habit you've always found sort of endearing throughout time. Perhaps there's a bit more meaning to it now.
The few moments of silence that follow is absolutely suffocating. You can't even tell if time is passing by quicker or slower as the two of you stand there, shifting this uncomfortable weight between both of your feet.
"Yeah," Vernon says simply, quietly. "I did."
You nearly want to laugh for some reason, but you can feel the nerves tickle up your spine. "I'm standing here in fucking Hello Kitty underwear and you think I'm cute?"
You can visibly see the way the lump in his throat tightens as he swallows, his eyes flickering uncertainly between you and the floor.
"Look you just... You caught me off-guard. Like... laundry day doesn't mean walking around in your underwear and all that," Vernon explains, in a tone like he's trying to reason with you. "but for you, I'll make an exception because𑁋"
"𑁋because I'm cute?"
"Because you're so stupidly cute from freaking out when I could just go to the store right now and buy you a pair of pants to wear." Then he sucks in a breath. "And yeah, the Hello Kitty underwear is cute, I guess."
You feign a shocked, traitorous look to your face. "You guess?! It's Hello Kitty, man."
"Dude, do you want me to snatch you some pants to wear or not? Because I'm deadass about the missing persons report," Vernon asks, half-annoyed yet somewhat half-amused. The twitch to his lips doesn't go unnoticed. And the voice of him calling you cute just minutes earlier also doesn't go unheard of too.
You wear a cringy, exaggerated pout to your lips. "Please."
Vernon's face contorts in slight disgust at that. "Please don't do that eve𑁋I'm leaving." And before you can say anything, he's turning around and leaving your room.
You hear the clinking of keys, assuming that Vernon is getting ready to leave to presumably retrieve you a pair of pants to wear for the day. You step up to your doorway to peek into the living room.
"Hey, I owe you!" You holler out to him. "Let me know how much it costs and I'll pay you back."
"No need," Vernon calls back over his shoulder.
"Come on, I'll feel bad," You insist, leaning against the doorframe. "I'll do anything, I swear."
Now that seems to intrigue him, and you watch the way Vernon slowly turns back to you, and maybe you're starting to regret ever saying that to him.
"Okay," he says lightly. "We're watching a movie tonight."
"A movie? What are we..." Then your eyes widen in realisation. "We are not watching Shrek again. I'll end up falling asleep on you because we've rewatched too much."
Vernon just shrugs. "Yeah, like last time. You hugged me like your personal pillow, remember?"
"I..." You stop yourself from responding immediately, feeling a flush creeping up your cheeks at the memory. "Fine, whatever. If I fall asleep again, you can just wake me up this time."
A low, thoughtful hum runs out of Vernon's mouth. "I mean, I really don't mind if you fall asleep, you know. If you're tired and stuff."
You blink up at him dazedly. "Really?"
"Yeah," he answers, and the corners of his lips lift up ever so slightly. "You're cute when you fall asleep on me, anyway."
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another note: guys idk what i just wrote lol its like 90% dialogue n rushed HAHSADSA
taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @phenomenalgirl9 @roziesmei @mirxzii @bookyeom @parkjennykim @melodicrabbit @bewoyewo @honglynights @bananabubble @treehouse-mouse @tanya596carat @starshuas @totomoshi
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alleiwentcrazy · 1 year
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Eddie hates it when people don’t answer his calls. He hates it with passion.
It reminds him of too many things. It reminds him of manhunts and abandoned sheds, and no one on the other side of the line. It reminds him of cold, clammy hands, of hunger, of fear. Breaking bones and eldritch horrors he’d thought existed solely in cheap movies, not in real life, until he was brutally made aware of the fact that when people say everything’s possible, everything is possible.
Every time someone doesn’t answer the phone when he calls, panic starts to boil inside his veins and his brain immediately makes at least a dozen painful scenarios for him to dwell on. He knows that technically, they just don’t know that it’s him. But it doesn’t make him worry any less, so everyone’s learned to respect the rule. They just have to pick up. No matter what. Or he’ll freak out, drop everything he’s doing and come unexpectedly to check if everything’s alright.
There hasn’t been a single situation when things were actually bad—people go get groceries, take solid, deep naps, or they’re simply too lazy to pick up sometimes—but he always does that. Always.
Especially if it’s Steve who doesn’t answer. What if he fell? Or someone mugged him? Or he got into a fight? This brain can’t take any more damage. What if he’s in the hospital now, waiting to be anesthetized before surgery, and no one’s called Eddie yet, because to society they’re just some dudes living together?
There are too many options. Eddie doesn’t like taking chances anymore, so he slaps the “I’ll be back in a few” sign on the door, closes the shop and speeds through the town like he has nothing to lose. (And it’s quite stupid, because he has too many things to lose now—but he’s allowed to freak out once in a while.)
When he gets there and sees Steve pacing and gesturing animatedly in front of the window of their tiny but awfully cluttered kitchen, he finds out exactly what it means to have the whole world on your shoulders. Or, rather, to be finally freed from the pressure it creates.
It’s okay. It’s just a stupid phone call. It wasn’t even important, anyway.
Despite that, he takes his helmet off. Won’t hurt to remind Steve of the rule. And maybe kiss his pretty face a little while he’s here.
He doesn’t even have to enter their apartment to know that Steve’s not alone. First off – if Steve’s pacing and rambling, an anxious trait he’s picked up from Robin, wasn’t a hint enough – it’s loud. Their paper walls can barely hold back a normal conversation, let alone something resemblant of a heated discussion. Honestly, Eddie has no idea how their neighbors can stand them sometimes, with his metal, their late-night conversations and non-conversations alike, with the kids visiting so often. Although Steve is optimistic (they have some lovely neighbors, like sweet Gran Fran, but don’t ever let Eddie express his opinions about that old hag from across the hallway, Miss Hermans), he’s still waiting for that complaint to be filed.
Second, he smells coffee. Steve never makes coffee for just himself.
Eddie opens the door gingerly, remembering how easy it is to completely unhinge them by accident, and is about to scream something about getting home, when none other than Dustin Henderson cuts him off with a shriek.
“—because it’s actually pathetic, that’s why! Get a grip, man, just do it!”
“Oh, it’s so easy for you to say, because you’ve never actually tried—”
“And maybe I never will! If you won’t do it, how can I learn how to do it myself? You know that you guys are the closest thing to father figures!”
“Hey, don’t make it about yourself for once, maybe? Some humility?”
Dustin’s quiet for a second, but Eddie knows he’s not about to admit full defeat. “Yes, sorry,” he chokes out, finally. “But you’ve tried so many times, you should know that it doesn’t get any easier on another try. Just do it, it doesn’t matter how.”
“It does, though! To me, it—it does. It matters,” Steve mumbles back, and Eddie can picture his face in perfect detail. It’s Steve’s small voice, which means he’s worried about something, even though his worry doesn’t make any sense in everyone else’s eyes. He’s unsure: his brows are pinched, lips pursed, stare skittering around the room, never focusing on anything. Dustin knows this face too, because his tone gets softer.
“Okay, then walk me through it.”
“What?”
“Walk me through it. You’ll know what you want, how you want it, when and where, and it’ll be easier when you try it next time.”
“Dustin, I really don’t—I’m not sure it can get easier, ever.”
“Because you’re scared.”
Steve sighs deeply before he responds. “Yes. Because I’m scared.”
“It’s been eight years, Steve. What are you scared of?” Dustin’s voice is gentle, curious. He’s not judging, he genuinely wants to know the reasons, and so does Eddie. He leans against the wall, trying to sneak a peek of the kitchen unsuccessfully, and listens. A while passes before Steve speaks again.
“I think—There are so many things I’m afraid of. But the main one… It’s still rejection. Not being enough. Because it’s not like it’s anything formal, right? It’s only a promise, and if it ends up turned down…”
Chair legs scrape the floor and Eddie can hear two soft slaps – hands on shoulders, probably.
“Steve Harrington. Calm down. You know it’s not going to happen—no, don’t argue. I know it, and this alone should be enough. You are an amazing person. You’re great with people, you’re bright, you’re sweet, caring, you have so many talents. I love you, Steve,” the pause that follows is filled with something so heavy there’s a shift in the air. It has a different smell now. A little salty, a little warm. “And he loves you. More than you can imagine, probably. So just pop the question, Steve. And don’t back out with some stupid excuse like this morning.”
“Pop the question,” Steve says, his voice firm, only a little timid. “Yes, I think—I think I can do that.”
Eddie bounces off the wall and takes quiet, slow steps backwards. He can’t hear anything else, even though the conversation continues. He bites his tongue hard enough to make it bleed a little. A coppery taste floods his mouth as he closes the door.
Oh, it’s just so, so stupid. He would have said yes. Each and every time, he would have said yes.
*
Later that day, when they’re lying in bed together, with the sheets rumpled, their bodies warm and mushy from the nap, with Eddie’s lips on Steve’s and Steve’s hands in Eddie’s hair, Eddie remembers the overheard conversation.
Well, no. That’s a lie. Because he hasn’t stopped thinking about it ever since.
Every single second of what, at first, seemed to be yet another annoying Monday, has been filled with reverie and anticipation. Dustin’s right – Eddie loves Steve. He loves him enough to risk hell for him, enough to argue with anyone who’s in any way mean to him. Enough to take his hand and say “You don’t have to be afraid when I’m with you”, even though Eddie’s the biggest coward in the whole wide world.
Eddie loves him. Loves his goofy smiles and scrunched happy faces, loves his moles and the uneven mustache he grows out sometimes when he’s bored. Eddie loves how gentle Steve is, how thoughtful and kind-hearted he is. How he helps Gran Fran replant her flowers each month with more enthusiasm than Eddie’s ever shown to anyone. How he talks to children, how much respect he has for those undermined by everyone else.
Eddie loves how he’s learned to stand up for himself. He’s proud of Steve, of how much he’s grown, of how he knows how to express what he needs and what he wants now. Eddie’s loved him for ages, maybe even longer than he’s aware of, but every single significant and insignificant change in Steve’s behavior and point of view makes him fall a little bit harder, every time. In any shape, in any form, there’s one constant in Eddie’s life: his love for Steve.
He likes to think that they do that to each other, both of them. That they help each other through inevitable changes, painful regressions and euphoric victories alike. He likes to think that together, they make one, healthy, living being – and apart they’re good, because they’ve grown to be good people thanks to the connections they’ve made overall. He likes this idea of just being good, together and apart. And he loves Steve for giving him the opportunity to be just that.
Eddie wants it to last. Desperately, intensely, madly. He wants it to last and he needs it to keep happening – he knows that, and he knows he has the capacity to do that. To be there, to stay. His hands touch Steve’s thigh, not in the slightest covered by those silly Hawkins Tigers shorts he’s kept, then they touch Steve’s soft, scarred belly, then they touch his chest, where his heart is beating steadily and peacefully, and he keeps kissing him and Steve keeps clingling back to him, and Eddie’s so sure.
He wants this. He wants to experience growing old together, he wants them to get all wrinkly and bald together, he wants the fights over who gets the most comfortable chair in their grandkids’ living room. He wants them to experience the highs and the lows of the family that they already have, and the one they’re going to build someday.
Eddie wants this. He wants Steve. The whole deal; the promised forever. And he doesn’t want to wait another second.
“Steve,” Eddie says, cutting the kiss short so suddenly Steve actually pulls him closer, chasing after the warmth of his lips. “I’m saying yes.”
“Mm. Okay,” he mumbles back, too kiss- and sleep-hazy to catch Eddie’s intention right away. He tries to bump their noses together—which is adorable, really, but Eddie can’t let him hijack and self-sabotage this proposal too.
“No, Steve,” he squeezes Steve’s side until he looks at him properly. “I love you. I’m saying yes.”
In awe, Eddie watches as Steve’s face goes through confusion, true bewilderment, a bit of fear and fleeting exhilaration, to finally settle on disbelief.
“How did you—”
Eddie laughs a little at that. “I called and you didn’t pick up.” Steve makes a little oh sound, already looking like a kicked puppy. “But it’s okay, doesn’t matter, not the point,” Eddie jumps in, anticipating an unnecessary apology. “The point is, I love you, and I’m saying yes.”
Steve stares at him for a long second, his eyes wide and earnest. His fingers slide from Eddie’s hair to finally settle on both of his cheeks, cradling them lovingly. Eddie kinda wants to cry.
“You’ll marry me?” Steve asks, incredulous, his voice only a bit louder than a whisper. The way he accentuates the word “marry” gives yet another layer of meaning to such a simple question. You’ll love me? Forever?
“I’ll marry you,” he replies without hesitation. “You’ll marry me?” You’ll love me? With my flaws?
“I’ll marry you,” Steve says back. Then he grins with his eyes glistening in the bedside light, and squishes Eddie’s cheeks so hard it squeezes the unshed tear right from his eye. “We’ll get married!”
Steve giggles happily, and Eddie laughs with him. There’s so much joy inside him—them, the whole room seems to get bigger. “We will,” he adds through a smile, already peppering his fiancé’s face with kisses.
“Oh gosh, I have to call Robin,” Steve manages through his giggles and Eddie loves him so much. “And Dustin!”
So, so much.
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jgracie · 22 days
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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ SPEED DRIVE!
ferrari driver!percy jackson x fem!reader
masterlist | rules
warnings one swear word!
on the radio . . . speed drive (charlie xcx)
percy knew it was a bad idea leaving his house without at least a pair of sunglasses to conceal his identity. he was craving cookie dough ice cream, the grocery store wasn’t too far away and it was the middle of the night - who would possibly recognise him at a time like this?
the answer is many people. while percy did love his loyal fans, both tifosi and others, even he had to admit they were a little crazy. all it took was for one to snap a photo and post it on twitter and the rest seemed to immediately spawn all around him
“percy, is it true that luke might lose his seat next year?” he heard one voice say as he attempted to weave through the thick crowd of people. why couldn’t he have one second of peace? unfortunately, percy had made another awful decision that night - walking to the grocery store
this left ferrari’s golden boy with two options: either tough out the wall home with fans and paparazzi alike swarming him, or find someone who was willing to drive him home. with cars on the street in front of him were stationery thanks to the red light, percy made his decision
he bolted for the first one that caught his eye, a car that was small, (ironically) bright red and most importantly had an open roof. percy also had to admit the driver was kind of pretty, at least from what he could see from that far away
the light turned yellow and you prepared yourself to continue driving. you’d only recently gotten your drivers license and this was your first time driving without someone more experienced with you in the car, so you were just praying to end up at your apartment in one piece
just as the light became green and you began to drive, some random guy jumped into the passenger seat of your car, causing your heart rate to increase dramatically and your foot to immediately press on the brakes - out of shock or fear (or both), you weren’t sure
“drive!” he nearly yelled at you. you just stared at him, your mouth agape. it was way too late at night for this. at your state, percy huffed and leaned over to the wheel, beginning to steer for you
this snapped you out of the daze you were in and you slapped his hands away, your brows furrowing in anger as you drove, “who the fuck are you and what do you think you’re doing in my car? i’m pulling over right now, you need to get out.”
“no, please, i promise i didn’t mean any harm! can you just drop me off at my house?” he asked. you didn’t need to look at him to know he was incredibly desperate. who was this guy? as you recalled his face from when he first got into your car, you realised he did look a little familiar, but you still couldn’t figure out his identity
at your silence, percy continued, “i’ll do anything, do you like car racing? i can get you tickets for that!”
okay, so he was rich rich. you didn’t know the first thing about racing, but one of your friends was obsessed with formula one. specifically, a driver called peter jameson (or something along those lines). still, you rolled your eyes at his offer, disliking the way he attempted to bribe you
“no, it’s fine, you don’t have to do anything. where do you live?”
after percy told you his address, the car ride was silent. neither of you knew what to say to the other. you were still shaken by his sudden appearance, and percy was trying to conceal the blush that coated his cheeks. he was right, you were beautiful. the moon made your skin glow and your eyes brighter. from the death grip you had on the wheel, percy could tell you were new at driving. cute
“thanks a lot, you have absolutely no idea how much you helped me tonight,” percy said as he got out of your car. part of you was a little sad to see him go. sure, he freaked you out, but something about him was magnetic - maybe it was those sea green eyes that put all of poseidon’s oceans to shame, or the light dusting of freckles you hadn’t noticed until now
giving him a small smile, you said, “you’re welcome. have a good night.” you stayed for a little and watched as he entered his home, a bittersweet feeling tugging at your heart
once you’d gotten home, you noticed he’d left something on the passenger seat. a strip of paper with a line of messily scrawled numbers lay on the leather
call me. (917) 173-1839 — PJ
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kimsmuse · 10 months
Text
yandere rich kid !!
not really a kid, just a spoiled brat.
gender neutral!reader, obsessive behaviour, blackmailing, mentions of drunk driving, implications of sex but no real smut TT. if you want to talk about yanderes my inbox is always open <33
i was thinking about mingi of ateez when i wrote it so you can imagine him as the faceclaim (v v optional)
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very rough idea but !! yandere nepo kid who is The Wild Kid, he’s his parents' and siblings' worst nightmare, partying like its his last night, hooking up right and left.
just imagine like early 2010s justin bieber but, um, no hate to him, but better.
this guy isn't evil or cruel or anything, he's just numb, and he's doing every possible thing that comes his way to just feel something, anything he can.
drugs? nothing. alcohol? nothing. nothing makes him feel like the people he sees in the movies, he tries talking to so many people, sleeps with them, but he can't feel it.
and it becomes increasingly uncomfortable for him inside his own body, he's aware of the things that are happening, his parents being disappointed, threatening to write him off their will but he can't seem to stop himself.
club after club, every bouncer knows him, the bartenders know his order, accurate down to the T because they know what's going to happen if they don't.
and enter you. okay, okay, this seems wattpad-ish but its not like love at first sight or anything. because when you and your friends sneak in to the vip section, the least of your worries is the nepo guy.
your friends seem to have an instant attraction to him, thanks to his entertainment news headlines. "famous business tycoon's son gone wild!" and what not. who doesn't want their name attached to a guy like that? everybody who doesn't have an ounce of rationality in their brain!
but he had other plans for tonight, he was spiralling, and it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to sit here normally and pretend his insides weren't burning. why was there no comfort for him?
he dreaded going home and waking up, looking at the clear disappointed looks of his family. he wishes he was different too, he wants to say to them.
the dance floor clears as the night deepens and soon enough your friends have abandoned their idea of getting laid by him, their patience running out as they grab some other people to take home.
you’re trying to get yourself a cab when he brushes past you, looking back briefly to apologise but when he is a bit ahead, he turns back again and offers you a ride, which you politely refuse, “thanks for asking but i’ll get a cab soon enough,”
okay, then he’ll wait with you! he doesn’t have anything better to do and he’d be going against the way his parents raised him (as if he hasn’t done that enough) if he left you out here alone so late.
after about 20 minutes of standing, looking through various taxi apps, you give up and take him up on his offer, and all the while our rich, spoiled yandere is figuring out what he’s feeling, it was out of basic courtesy that he offered you a lift but now that you’re sitting beside him in his car, he feels like he’s breathing in a new kind of air.
and you swear you didn’t mean to, but maybe its your hormones and the disappointment that all your friends got someone they went home with but you didn’t.. so as soon as you’re in the car, you give him The Look. and while normally the guy would just take it to his backseat, something in him stops him. instead he says, “my place isn’t far,” you nod.
when you regain your senses, it’s too late. it’s the next morning. but thankfully, he was the last person to ask you about what you both were after last night, and the last person to want to “see you again,” so you try your best to get dressed as his sleeping form just lies there peacefully. he’s cute, you admit that.
a few days pass by and you’re thankful that this wasn’t like the other times where his photos and the people he was with would be all over social media, so you went on with your life normally, attending classes, studying and all the jazz.
when once out of thr blue, when you’re working the counter at your part-time, he’s there. he gives you a small smile as you become increasingly uncomfortable. “hey,” you greet him awkwardly.
“i wanted to talk to you… about that night,”
and believe it or not but that’s when your entire life changes. the guy who didn’t even know your name was suddenly there asking you for a bit if your time and the manager obviously obliges, is even eager for it, the publicity that it would get the cafè ….
but yeah, as i was saying, he’s going to come up with a “will you date me?” it doesn’t, matter if he doesn’t know your name, he’ll learn, he’ll learn everything about you, he was willing to, didn’t that count? “please, give me a chance, you won’t regret it, i swear.” and you gulp, okay…
and after that, he’s driving you home from work, home from dates he’s taking you out to, and home from even your college which isn’t even a 5 minute walk from your apartment, and although it’s supposed to feel like “dating” you can’t help but feel a little awkward around him, the fact that he was doting on you like no one ever had in your life and seemed to be perfectly fine with whatever you wanted was just a little off putting.
for the yandere, it’s as if he’s been reborn, it’s as if he found a new purpose at life, he’s so overjoyed at the fact that he was looking for a sign and god actually gave it to him. it was you! he felt everything then, he felt heart beating in his chest, he felt the rain on his face, it was everything h ever wanted.
“this is NOT the guy from the headlines, y/n, this is his twin or something,” your friends were collectively shocked.
even the media was. they wrote articles and articles on if this was just a new stunt or has the resident playboy actually settled down? and they were snooping around your life too, and when the guy went to his parents to help stop that, his parents were delighted to hear that their son wasn’t asking for a new car but instead to help protect a person’s privacy?? who was he??
but they helped, obviously. not without a catch though, they hired a private investigatior to spy on you, were you blackmailing their son? who are you? they weren’t opposed to him finding love, they just wanted to make sure he was safe and not being taken advantage of. when you turn up clean and the investigatior lets them know that you aren’t even in a bit of love with him as much he is, his father is scared.
so he hires the same investigator again, it’s safe to say that money the private investigator made on these two tasks was enough to suffice him for the rest of his years.
and his father decides to pay you a visit, “please, this is the first month since he started middle school that i haven’t been spending on people to keep their mouths shut and to not file cases aainst him, you’ve truly changed him,”
you’re a little uncomfortable again, being this person wasn’t someone you wanted to be, jsut be reduced to beng someone who fixed him, he was nice, yes, but you did not want a relationship right now, let alone a serious-committed one.
then the father takes out his trump card, “…i did not want to do this but,”
he knows where your parents live, your siblings’ workplace.
“so, play along, okay?”
and the worst thing is that, you can't even call the police on one of the richest men in your country.
and as if this problem wasn’t enough, it isn’t even been 3 months and your friends have entirely stopped talking to you. why? well, because, you can’t even have a sleepover without that guy calling you every hour, asking if you ate well, are drinking enough water. and you don't blame them, you wouldn't have liekd it if you were in their position as well.
when you try, (keyword, try) to talk to him about it, he gets super sulky… what do you mean you're bothered by being left alone by your friends? you had him… wasn't that enough?
even at your part-time, it was getting uncomfortable, the times he would just sit in the cafè, working (yes, he even agreed to take over his father's company fot you) and while he obviously paid for his drinks, it was just concerning to the people you knew that he was fliterally following you around, that wasn't healthy.
you have an intuition it won't work, but you decide to give it a try anyway. "hey, we need to talk," you text him. and there’s a response in not even seconds, “what’s wrong?”
“just come over,”
you best believe he’s there in not even 10-15 minutes, and he’s panting too. couldn’t even wait for the lift, his precious darling needed him.
“listen.. i,”
“what?”
“i don’t think this is….working out,”
“what?”
“don’t freeak out-“
“freak out? are you kidding? i.. love you, how isn’t this working out?”
“you’re way too controlling,”
“i’m what? do you know how many peole would kill to be in your place, and people who would want their boyfriends to be like me? nd you say i’m ‘too controlling’?”
“it’s…”
“you have no idea how grateful you should be to me,” you’d never seen him so… angry and it was like you could see the comments being true. “he’s so rude, acts so entitled,” being true.
“don’t look at me like that, i tried my best to appeal to you in a way you should have liked,” he hangs his head down.
“now we do things my way,”
kiss your freedom, part-time, college and apartment bye bye, because you won’t need it anyway, you’ll be his spouse, and there’s no bigger qualification than that. you desperately want to work? be his assistant, he’s getting ready to take over the company soon enough. his parents do see it, the things he’s doing but they can’t interefere, at least he’s staying out of the headlines, that’s all that matters.
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bruisedboys · 1 year
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ok so i think about eddie ordering food for shy reader 😭like he so so would. i know it’s a simple thing but he’s be so sweet about like “i got you sweet thing don’t worry about it” 🥹
I want someone to order food for me tbh. like I’d probably start crying
shy!fem!reader 0.7k words
You’re anxious about it before you even get inside the diner.
Talking to strangers is not your strong suit, and waitresses are no exception. You’ll do anything to avoid ordering your own food, even if it means going without something you actually want, because you’re always so scared of messing up, of making a fool of yourself. It’s silly, really. But you can’t help yourself.
Eddie notices your discomfort not long after it begins.
“Y/N.” Eddie’s ringed finger taps your hand where it’s curled around a menu. “What’s up? You feeling okay?”
You look up from your menu, where you’d been scoring it for the option that’s easiest to get your clumsy tongue around, and meet Eddie’s eyes. He’s a mirror of you, gazing right back with his own menu propped up in front of him.
“I feel fine,” you say. It’s half true.
Eddie scrutinises you for a second. He’s gotten very good at reading you and knowing what you’re thinking without you even opening your mouth.
You try not to look like you’re a bubble of anxiety right now. You’re sure it doesn’t work, but after a moment Eddie shrugs.
“If you say so, babe.” His eyes fall to your menu and he tilts his forehead towards it. “What looks good, hm? What d’you feel like?”
You turn back to your menu. “Maybe the waffles?” You say unsurely. “I don’t know. There’s so much to choose from.”
Eddie hums, his fingers tap tap tapping on the shiny table surface. You watch him put his chin in one hand, elbow propped up in front of him, a dangly bracelet hanging from his wrist. He’s so pretty, so effortlessly cool. You sometimes wish you had his level of coolness. If you ever told him that he’d first, get a huge ego boost and second, tell you you’re way cooler than him and totally out of his league. So not true, you think.
“Waffles sounds good,” Eddie’s saying thoughtfully. “Did you want to get a milkshake, too?” He grins suddenly and meets your eyes. “They have Oreo.”
Your heart does a little stutter at the fact that he always remembers your favourites of everything. Favourite colour, favourite place for takeout, favourite milkshake flavour.
“Yeah, okay,” you agree, smiling big. He’s maybe the sweetest boy you’ve ever met. You forget all about your predicament for a moment.
The moment doesn’t last long. A waitress appears at your table, ready to take your orders.
“What can I get you two today?” She asks sweetly.
There’s no reason to be nervous, there really isn’t, but you can’t help it. Your heart starts pounding like crazy. You’re hastily going through your order in your head, trying to memorise it so you don’t get tongue-twisted, when Eddie beats you to it.
“Uh, okay, I’ll have the hot fudge cake, please,” he says casually, lifting his chin from where it was resting in his hand. Then he gestures to you, elbow braced on the table. “And she’ll have … the waffles, right, babe?”
He’s looking at you, smiling softly. His brown eyes all sweet and understanding. You’re stunned, but not surprised. Because of course he’s figured out what’s bothering you and saved you from it, without even having to ask. You nod soundlessly and offer the waitress a weak smile.
She jots down the orders and smiles at both of you. “Anything else?”
“Oh yeah, one Oreo milkshake, please,” Eddie adds with a grin, winking at you across the table. “Thanks a lot.”
The waitress takes your menus and you watch her go. Your heart’s still thumping, but you’re not sure if it’s the lingering anxiety or your complete and utter infatuation with your boyfriend. You’d put your bets on the second.
You turn back to said boyfriend and give him your best, most grateful smile.
“Thanks, Eds,” you say quietly. You try to sound as grateful as you feel. It makes your words all sticky and sweet. Lovesick, almost. You can’t bring yourself to be embarrassed about it.
Eddie grins and reaches across the table to take your hand in his. His rings are warm against your skin, his thumb warmer as it rubs over the back of your hand.
“Don’t worry about it, sweet thing,” he says. He pushes his fingers between yours, the heels of your hand pressing together on the table. “I got you.”
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