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#then she sat outside waiting for me...from 9 to 3
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Sunshine
Synopsis: You are the youngest and only daughter of the Leclerc family, and no matter how much he tries to hide it, Charles can’t deny you’re his favorite
monegasque female leclerc reader x brother charles leclerc
A/N: let’s say that y/n was born in 2006, making her about 17 now, 15 years younnger younger than lorenzo, 9 years younger than charles, and 6 younger than arthur
. so
. pascale leclerc has always wanted a daughter
. a little girl she could love and spoil with all her heart
. don’t get me wrong, she loves her sons with all of her being
. but i’d be lying if i said she’s never wished for another girl in the house
. the rest of the leclercs know this
. so it wasn’t a big suprise when she told everyone that she was pregnant in 2005
. and nearly cried of happiness when she learned she was carrying a baby girl
. now at first
. 8 year old charles leclerc didn’t know how he felt about this
. because he already has 5 year old arthur following him around everywhere
. what would it be like with another sibling in the house?
. so he wasn’t entirely thrilled at first
. but the second pascale and herve brought you home from the hospital a few months later
. he knew he’d love you no matter what
. his friends at school constantly talk about how annoying their baby sisters are
. but charles is always more endeared with you rather than annoyed
. he would play and watch kid shows with you for days on end if that’s what you wanted
. would be lying if he said he’s never played pretend with you
. repeatedly asked for pascale to allow you to come to his karting races
. something that didn’t happen until you were 3
. shows you off to all of his friends at said races
. “you see that baby over there with my maman? that’s my sister, y/n”
. “she doesn’t really know what’s going on, but she always cheers for me anyway”
. charles makes sure he’s there for every milestone in your life
. first day of school
. the first time you drove a kart
. when you learned how to ride a bike
. etcetera
. it does get harder as the years go on, with his karting career continuing and everything
. but your brother makes sure he’s there for you
. because no matter how busy he gets
. he’s never too occupied to see you discover yourself
. finding your own personality and hobbies
. interests and dislikes
. this has all happened by the time you’re 9 years old
. nearing the end of your childhood but still enjoying it nonethless
. pascale even lets you follow charles to formula 1 races, because she knows he’s really following jules bianchi
. your older brother loves when you come with him to races
. but he wishes more than anything your mother made you stay home with her instead of going to suzuka with him
. because he knows you love jules
. he’s like another brother to you
. he’s always the one to have you sitting on top of his shoulders, doing anything to help you see more than the world you were given (both literally and figuratively)
. jules was the one who gave you his kart to practice with
. the one that taught you everything you know about cars
. the one that taught you to always dream for more
. the one that taught you what grief felt like
. charles remembers the moment it happened, the crash, the noise, the shock
. the way you looked up at him, your 9 year old self not old enough to realize what just happened
. “charlie, what happened? where’s jules?”
. he remembers how much you cried in the hospital, looking way too young to be sitting in those waiting room chairs and losing one of the people you loved the most
. he remembers hearing you sob in your room when you got home, how helpless he felt that he couldn’t do anything to stop his own emotions, nonetheless his baby sisters’
. he remembers how instead of driving the kart jules left you, most of the time you just sat in front of it, staring at it, wishing jules would come outside like he always would, and persuade pascale to let you two drive around for just a few more hours
. arthur was the one who looked out for you in these times, because charles was too busy either being looked after by lorenzo, or trying to drive his own feelings away in formula championships
. 2015 was a sorrowful year in the leclerc household
. so it makes sense that charles is happy when you start to show some progress in late 2016
. when you start to drive your kart again, improved by the JB17 stickers you start to put everywhere
. you start enjoying school again, hanging out with your friends and playing outside
. it almost gives him hope
. almost
. because by 2017, charles is nervous
. because herve is getting worse
. and charles knows his litter sister, you’re not stupid
. you can tell that your father is sick, and he’s not going to be get better
. he tries to subtly encourage you to spend more time with him
. makes sure you tell him all your stories from school, tell him what you want to be when you’re older and what you want to do
. soon enough though, you can’t do these things because your father was emitted into the hospital
. charles is nearly twenty now, he’s old enough for his mother to give him the truth about these sorts of things
. but still not old enough to tell his eleven year old sister the truth
. the whole family is there with herve in the hospital in june 2017
. none of them are ready to lose another one of their own again
. you’re sobbing, arthur’s arms wrapped around you and hand pushing your head into his neck because he know you shouldn’t have to see this
. lorenzo is the only thing keeping both his mother and first younger brother standing, all while trying to keep his own tears from blurring his vision
. this time, you don’t let anybody help you
. you never leave your room, only to go to school and to eat
. you stopped karting completely, not wanting to unless your father was standing on the front porch, cheering you on and giving advice from where he stood
. you don’t come to either arthur’s or charles’ races, not the one charles wins after herve dies, not the ones he continues to win after that
. the family almost forgets what your smile looks like, they only remember the faint sound of your cries at night
. charles beats himself up over it, feels guilty and helpless
. he couldn’t stop jules from crashing, couldn’t stop his father from getting sick, and can’t even protect his younger sister from losing herself
. he tries his hardest to be there for you, to hug you, tell you he loves you, and that he’s always there if you want to talk
. he waits as long as it takes for you to open up to him
. it comes eventually, the day you knock on his bedroom door and let yourself talk and cry in his arms
. it takes much longer for you to co-exist with your grief this time
. but charles is there for every step of the way
. you go to his first formula 1 race with him in 2018, cheer him on from the sauber garage with lorenzo and pascale no matter what position he comes in
. you hang out with arthur while he’s racing in formula e and formula 4, cheer for him just as loudly, if not louder than you would for charles
. you’re 12 by the time 2018 ends, but feel much older than you actually are
. this is the point where you and charles bond on a deeper level
. because whereas the rest of the world just sees you as a tweleve-year-old girl
. charles see you as a twelve-year-old girl who’s been through more than she should’ve, and now feels the emotions to match
. so as time continues to pass, you guys talk about the real stuff in your lives
. he talks about joining ferrari and what it feels like to do what jules had always wanted to
. what it felt like lying to your father about the ferrari contract and how he wonders what herve thinks about it now
. you talk about what it feels like going through life without a father
. what it feels like fearing for your brothers’ lives every time they get into their cars
. he tries to help you get over this fear by bringing you to the paddock with him
. which includes becoming friends with andrea after all the hours you two spend side by side in the ferrari garage
. meeting sebastian who instantly becomes a mentor to you
. you’ve known pierre for longer than you can remember, so you hang out in his team garage sometimes
. your brother tries to keep an eye on you while your in the paddock, but as you get older, the more freedom you have
. by the time you’re 15 in 2021, you roam around the paddock on your own free will
. with carlos joining ferrari, you hang out with his younger sister ana, who leads you on all sorts of adventures in whatever city you two are in that weekend
. meeting all sorts of celebrities while you’re walking down the pit lane on sundays
. spending time in the aston martin hospitality because you’re still close with seb
. passing time with lewis in the mercedes garage, he sheds some of his wisdom on you, you tell him all the drama in your life
. bothering pierre while simultaneously befriending yuki in the alpha tauri garage
. and of course, hanging out with charles in the rare moments when you both have nothing do to
. these are the antics that carry on throughout your late teenage years
. so by the time the end of 2023 rolls around, you’re close to graduating school and moving on to whatever you wish to pursue
. it’s in those moments, the ones where you’re talking about college and moving away and your career
. truly makes him realize that you’re growing up
. and you’re not the little girl that will always be there to cheer him on from the stands
. you assure him that you will though
. that wherever you end up, still in monaco or not
. you’ll always be rooting for him
. and he knows he’ll always be rooting for you too
. because you’re his little sister
. and he loves you more than you know
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hellishjoel · 9 months
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off to the races
6.3k / dbf!joel x f!reader
Series Masterlist | Next Chapter
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pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4
series summary: You and your parents rent a lakeside cabin, Joel and Sarah Miller are your neighbors. You’re all grown up, and you’ll do anything to prove to Joel you’re a woman now. 
warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), NO OUTBREAK, neighbor!joel, age gap (reader is in their early 20’s while Joel is in his 40’s), alcohol consumption, slight daddy issues lol, cursing, use of pet names, dominant!joel, maybe a lil brat tamer!joel, oral sex (m receiving), a lil praise kink, a lil degradation kink, facial, etc. you know ;)
A/N: needed to get cool slutty daddy out of my system. He’s just a Lana coded man!! I plan on turning this into a series, I hope it get's some love! let me know what you think by sending me an ask!
Your desperate eyes met his, trying to gauge what he thought. You hated how you looked like you wanted him so bad. He was your neighbor, your friend’s dad, but you wanted him to be something for you too.  “I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doin-”  His words made your chest go tight and your eyes filled with pure horror. What have you done?! “But you need to be the one to walk away, because I don’t think I can.”
Summers in Danbury were what you looked forward to all year long when you were younger. You would love the long drive to the lakeside cabin, swimming in the dazzling blue water all day, and catching fireflies at night before ending it with roasting s'mores over the campfire. 
Now, all Danbury reminded you of were your parents stripping your feeling of independence as soon as you stepped in their embrace and the lack of cell service. 
It wasn’t all that bad, though. Who were you to complain about an all-expense paid vacation on the water? Your parents were fine, you just graduated from university, everything was just.. good. It almost made you a little bored, thinking about the impending summer. 
The warm sun’s kiss on your skin was a welcomed greeting after spending the past 9 months away at school out of state, your eyes twinkling below your sunglasses as you stepped out of the car. It was good to be back in Texas.
“Look, there she is!” Your dad cooed as he was eager to point out the sign that sat beside the entrance of the cabin that read ‘Life is Better at the Cabin’. Cheesy. It wasn’t your choice of decor since it was just a rental property, but still. You also despised the ‘The Secret Ingredient is Always Love’ sign in the kitchen. 
You plopped your bags down at the end of your bed, the one just down the hall from your parents, quick to plug in your phone charger though it made little difference with your lack of a strong signal. 
You turned your head to the window, seeing an old, beaten pickup truck turn onto gravel, a small smile peaking on your lips. 
“Hey, look who it is!” Your dad cheered eagerly from the living room, appearing to also be gazing out the window at the sight coming down the road and pulling into the house next to yours. 
The truck in question belonged to Joel Miller and his daughter, Sarah. Sarah had been your close friend each and every summer since you were little. You two were attached at the hip once your family started vacationing here, despite her being a fair five years younger. You two got along nonetheless. 
You stepped outside to greet them, as your mother and father were already out doing, your face lighting up as Sarah made a b-line to your embrace. “Oh my god! Look at you!” She praised, her eyes lighting up at your appearance. 
You two didn’t get the chance to spend the past few summers together due to business with school or internships on your part, so her surprise in seeing you a few years grown up was warranted. 
“Look at me? Look at you!” You said through punched lungs as she hugged you so tight you were losing your breath. 
If you thought Sarah’s tight hug was bad, you weren’t prepared to see what was waiting on the other side of the pickup truck. 
Your lips parted at the sight of Joel Miller. He was sort of… handsome. Was that wrong to think that? I mean, he was so much older than you, someone’s dad, Sarah’s dad. You tried not to let your eyes linger for too long but his voice pitched into the conversation and you had been caught. 
“Hey, Skids.” Ugh. That dreaded nickname you had yet to wear off. “Haven’t seen you these past few summers. Happy to be done with school?” Joel’s southern drawl was a shock to your system after being up in the Midwest for school. 
He was tall and rugged, so unkempt. His hair was tousled everywhere and his beard was growing with salt and pepper stippling through the landscape of his jawline. He looked hot, the faint glisten and stain of sweat marking the collar of his shirt and at the sides of his biceps. 
You blinked a few times before a graceful smile fluttered on your lips.
“Hi, Mr. Miller.” You gently cooed. What? If he could call you by that horrid nickname he had given you when you were barely ten, you could call him by his surname. Your eyes caught his own shift, his jaw twitching at his name being called like that. It was just his name after all, right? 
“Joel.” He corrected with a raised eyebrow, your eyes finally dragging themselves away from his handsome character as they turned to your parents, who were obsessing over Sarah. She was about to go into her senior year of high school, so of course, they had all of the basic questions to ask her. Are you taking any advanced classes? Are you still on the swim team? Do you know where you want to go to college?
You tried to look interested, but you could still feel Joel’s gravitating stare in your direction. 
You were just imagining things, right? He was looking one foot over, to Sarah and your family. Except he wasn’t. You know because you snuck a casual glance over to him, and he was still on you. His gaze alone made a shiver travel up your spine. 
While Sarah and your parents were nestled in their own world of conversation, you take a few subtle steps away and join him by his truck. It still felt warm, the engine relaxing after a good drive in the Texas heat. 
“You need a new truck. She looks like she’s on her deathbed.” You point out, the one corner of his mouth tugging up as he kept his eye on Sarah and your folks with his arms crossed in front of his broad chest. 
“She’s just fine.” He retorts nonchalantly. You hated that about him. You could never figure out what he was thinking, unpredictable but not exactly chaotic. 
“She?” You asked with raised eyebrows. “I always knew you had a special woman in your life. Didn’t know she was so old, though.” You egged him on, your favorite pastime in the summers; Grinding the gears of an old man who had a bigger attitude than you most days. 
“You still have quite the mouth on you. Glad to see that hasn’t changed.” Joel said sarcastically as he pushed himself off the front of the truck with his hip, his head nodding off to the side in a silent way of telling you to follow him. You watched as he pulled down the tailgate, rust screeching until it stopped with a generous thump. 
“Supposed to be Sarah helping me with this, but since she’s busy being Miss Danbury, you can help me.” He said as he pointed to some firewood and other bigger pieces of wood in varying sizes. 
“What do you plan on doing with all this wood anyway? I think the Amazon is looking for it.” You huffed but climbed up into the back of the truck bed without him asking you to. His protective hand instinctively guided your hip for stability, and you felt a rush of air pump through your lungs. “Thanks.” You murmur before you start reaching for stacks you could handle. 
“Sarah wanted to throw y'all a bonfire with it being your first day back for the summer or what have you.” Before you could stop yourself, you were already cooing at him as you jumped down from the tailgate, watching as Joel gave a tight face of annoyance. Don’t do that, you’re gonna get yourself hurt. 
It took Joel all of two seconds to grab two of the larger cut pieces, throwing each of them onto his shoulders. You couldn’t help but stare at his biceps that cradled the wood, the tan skin and muscles popping out of the dark green t-shirt he wore. Focus, focus, focus, focus, focusfocusfocus. 
“And the bigger pieces? What are those for?” You asked out of sheer curiosity now once he threw them down in the back of his lawn, the sight of your parents and Sarah long gone. 
He shrugged and shook his head, his hands on his hips as a layer of sweat started to build up around his hairline. “Just carvin’ projects. The rest can be used for scrap lumber around the lake properties.” His head finally turned to look at you, his eyes raking you up and down for a moment before nodding to your lake house rental. “Doin’ property maintenance over the summer on the houses ‘round here.”
“So if we need maintenance, we call you now?” You asked with a dubious face, to which he nodded. 
This man never stopped. It made sense, you supposed. You reflected on the summers in the past, knowing Joel to manage his own contracting business and picking up odd jobs around town. You remember one summer, he redid the flooring of an old bakery in town and then built custom shelves for the loaves of bread and bagels. Another summer, he repaved people’s driveways with blacktop. He was a laborer, a blue-collar man through and through. 
“That’s right, Skids.” The nickname made you scowl at him again, but you wouldn’t mind seeing Joel Miller laid under your kitchen sink or repairing the window in your bedroom so it could finally let in some fresh air. Frankly, you just wouldn’t mind seeing Joel Miller. 
After Joel reclaimed his daughter from your parents with a snarky yet subtle, Thanks for all your help, kiddo to Sarah, he said goodbye to you and your family as everyone parted ways back to their own homes. 
-
You were tired from the drive, but you didn’t lack attendance to the bonfire Sarah was putting together specifically for you in a welcome back to Danbury! sort of celebration. She invited the other nearby neighbors, so by the time you finally joined, it was packed with people sitting around the fire. People who lived on the lake loved a good party, anything with beer to keep them occupied. 
It was a lot of talking and bottles clinking, marshmallows on sticks, and a crackling fire blazing at the center of everyone. You weren’t one for beer but Sarah insisted on feeding you bottle after bottle. 
She liked sharing secrets with you, away from her dad. She considered you someone she could tell anything to. And you felt the same way. So not more than half an hour later, you two were giggling and sitting on the tailgate of Joel’s old pickup truck when you saw him start to saunter over.  You saw him coming first, snatching Sarah’s bottle out of her hand and taking a sharp inhale as you hid away your own. Sarah’s secret, right? 
“Dad,” she playfully whined when he came over to bust their little party. 
He was silent for a moment before he looked at the dwindling flames. “Fire’s gettin’ low.” He pointed out, looking between the two of you.
His face was lit up in a mix of gold hue from the fire and silver from the moon. His face had this intensity, a bucked-out jawline, cheekbone, and nose. It was like he was carved from stone. 
Sarah was silent, not wanting to leave behind her friends at the bonfire to shuffle over more wood. You softly nodded as you took a swig of her beer bottle in your hand before setting it down once you hopped off the truck bed. 
“I can help.” You offered. Joel looked down at you hesitantly, sneaking a glance to where your parents sat around the growing circle of people.
“Yeah.. yeah, ‘lright.” Joel said as the two of you walked off to the dividing line on his property, the wood you had dropped carelessly earlier in the day now in a neat stack. You certainly weren’t drunk, but slamming Sarah’s beer along with the other ones she ushered you before was now messing with your head, the edges of your vision a little fuzzy, especially in the dark since the glow of the bonfire was at such a distance. 
Before you knew it, you were stacking the wood into your arms, too much maybe. Joel called out your name in a warning tone. 
“No, I got it! See?” You tried to reason with a cocky smile as he shook his head. 
“You don’t like to listen.” He gruffly said as he started picking up the smaller pieces as they fell out of your arms. 
You couldn’t help the playful scoff that left your lips, still insistent on stacking more in your arms, going as far as tucking some in your elbows but all they did was drop at your feet once you went to reach for more. 
“Stop bein’ so damn difficult.” He piped up again as he snagged your wrist, halting your movements. 
“Yeah? I thought you liked difficult women.” Your words were fast like a whip, your eyes challenging his own as the two of you shared unnecessarily long eye contact. 
“Drop-- the wood. Stop bein’ a-” 
“A what?” You challenged. The distance between you two suddenly felt like it was becoming air-tight, his eyes narrowing on yours as his features hardened. He didn’t look mad, lord knows you’d never want to actually make Joel Miller mad. He just looked-- provoked. 
“A brat.” He finally bit, your teeth clenching at the name. The shock of it all made your arms finally burst open like a dam breaching with water, all of them falling to your feet as you let out an involuntary squeal. God, you did not want him to hear that noise leave you like that. 
You finally tugged away your wrist from his hand, your eyes leaving his daggered gaze to examine your palm that had a decent size splinter plunged into the center of it. 
“Shit,” You swore, feeling whatever heat you had left in your body pooling to your stringing finger. 
You heard Joel let out a debated sigh before he took you by your wrist, much more gentle this time, and tried to bring it up closer to his eyes to examine it. 
“Can’t see for shit out here.” He grumbled. You couldn’t see it either but you could feel right where it spread searing pain through the rest of your hand. 
“I got some tweezers in my workshop, I’ll get it out.” Joel offered as he started walking a few paces but you let out an involuntary whimper at the sound of him taking it out. 
“You don’t want that to get infected, do you?” He asked with a true voice of reason, to which you let out a sigh of agreement and followed him to his workshop.
You had only been inside Joel’s workshop a handful of times. You remember once your dad dragged you over so he could talk to Joel about his truck, and you had to wait there and wait there until they finished gabbing. Another time was when you explored it on your own, your eyes fascinated by the little world he surrounded himself in. It wasn’t all wood like you’d expect it to be. He had old guns mounted on the wall, ladders hung up in the rafters, and dusty old fishing plaques that made you disgusted at the sight. It housed his tools, the same ones he had been using for years. He knew where they were by heart, not even looking when he reached for something. Everything had its place, down to the tweezers he immediately found in an old little toolbox. 
“Here,” he said as he pointed to an old metal stool as tall as your waist. You sat down on the cold metal, a little hiss of discomfort leaving you as he sighed. “Always somethin’.” Joel shook his head and offered you a spare dusty blanket, shaking your head. 
“Just-- fix my hand. Please.” You said as you displayed your palm to him, now seeing it in the light for the first time. Okay.. it didn’t actually look as bad as it felt. Joel actually smiled as he looked at the tiny sliver shoved into the skin. 
“..Might have to amputate it.” He said with a half-serious tone, as joking as Joel could sound. But there was a little glint in his eye, one of satisfaction from his own joke.  
“Joel Miller has a sense of humor? I’m surprised. And pleasantly delighted.” You teased as he huffed and shook his head, the smile that graced his lips already came and gone. Sort of. He just looked down at your hand so you couldn’t directly see it anymore. 
It took you until now to see that he changed out of his dark green shirt from this afternoon and into an old 80’s rock band shirt with a worn dark navy flannel over it. He must have showered after laboring in the Texas heat. The thought made your stomach churn in excitement. 
You shivered at how cold you felt all of a sudden, no longer by the warm fire and on this damn metal stool. You shifted uncomfortably on it, cursing yourself for wearing jean shorts. 
Joel let out an exasperated sigh as he stood up straighter and shoved off his flannel, your eyes softening at the sight. 
“You want me to take tweezers to your hand but you keep... shiftin’ around. Stand up.” He directed, and this time you didn’t debate with him. You hopped off the metal stool and he laid down the flannel. It was a nice gesture and you were grateful. You hoped the goosebumps were from the temperature, not how close he was. 
Joel pulled up another metal stool so he could steady himself, reeling himself in as close as he could and holding your palm open in his as his eyes squinted a little bit. 
You felt frozen in place, your lips parting as you slowly looked down to one of his knees that parted between your own legs. Fuck. You weren’t sure if it was the little buzz of beer still in your system but something drove you to have enough courage to gently lay your hand just above his kneecap. 
His eyes flicked up to yours, trying to read what was behind your thought process right now. He looked so confident, you feared you looked all shifty. 
You could feel the worn denim of his jeans under your palm but underneath, he was warm. He was as hot as a furnace as your body craved it. 
“The sliver.” You pointed back out, your voice smaller since you two were in such close proximity. You watched his chest heave as he took a deep breath, grumbling something under his breath before he focused back to his initial task. 
You pursed your lips as you both watched and felt the tweezers line up to the red and irritated skin, his movements precise and patient until you watched him clench the tool closed. 
You let out an involuntary breath of both relief and anticipation, just wanting it out already. 
“Hold on, just gotta make sure I..” Joel’s voice trailed off as he slowly pulled the tiny sliver from your palm, an uncomfortable whine leaving the back of your throat. 
His thigh twitched under your palm at the sound, not even realizing your hand had sunk higher up his jean-clad thigh. 
“Got it.” He finally said, swiping the tip of the tweezer on the table to display the nasty little piece of wood that had caused you all this grief. You let out a breath through your nostrils and nodded. 
“Thank God, no amputation.” You joked, to which he awarded you a small smile. 
“I’ll call the surgeon and tell ‘em to turn around. We’re good here.” Joel said as he gently released your wrist. You watched his features carefully, seeing his lips part as he glanced down to his leg that your hand still held for balance. 
“What’er you doin’?” He finally asked, his voice dropping an octave at the question. Shit. 
Don’t read this wrong, or this will be the most awkward interaction you and Joel have had to date. This is worse than when he saw you fall out of the inner tube while boating, worse than when some kid tripped you at the town barbeque, worse than when you fell off Sarah’s scooter so hard that he gave you the nickname Skids. 
“Woah, Skids! Better slow down!” God, that was so many years ago. His chuckle still echoed in your ears.
Now you were older, you were a woman. You had long legs and glowing skin, and a smile that knocked guy’s out of the fuckin’ park! But he was older too, older than you, younger than your dad but god, not by much. You were so close to him, you could inhale the distant smell of the bonfire, the one he probably made instead of Sarah. He also smelled like an old spice deodorant and fucking cigarettes. 
He was stingy, and greasy, and hot, and Joel. 
Your years of anticipation thinking about him like this was over. 
You bit down on your lower lip, your mind was foggy with the rushing in your heart,  feeling your ears pound and your palm still seared. He was a head taller than you while you sat together, and before you could stop yourself, you were leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to his pulse. 
Your lips lingered around his neck for a moment, the sensitive skin of your mouth feeling beard stubble and tasting distant cologne. Your breath fanned over the skin, clammy but sweet with his sweat. 
He didn’t stop you, his eyes merely watching you carefully. 
“What’er you doin’?” He asked again, but this time, his words sounded more-- goading. Do it, I know you won’t. You’re chicken shit. If you know what you want, do it. 
Your heart raced as you nearly leaped off the stool, closing the distance between you two as you stood between his legs. Your hand moved higher on his thigh, so close that you were nearly touching the leather of his belt. Your mouth returned to the sweet spot of his pulse while your injured hand reached up to the opposite side of his neck to gently hold him there. 
“Joel,” you whispered his name breathlessly, asking him for more, feeling his head drop down beside yours. You feared you embarrassed yourself, he wasn’t reciprocating, he wasn’t--
The thoughts brewing in your head bubbled down to a boil as his firm arm wrapped itself low around your waist, keeping you to his front as he pulled down to look at you with a stern look on his face.. You were so fucked. 
Your desperate eyes met his, trying to gauge what he thought. You hated how you looked like you wanted him so bad. He was your neighbor, your friend’s dad, but you wanted him to be something for you too. 
“I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doin-” 
His words made your chest go tight and your eyes filled with pure horror. What have you done?!
“But you need to be the one to walk away, because I don’t think I can.”
His words surprised you. He didn’t think he could walk away from you right now? Holy shit. 
Your heart was pumping so hard under his watchful gaze, seeing his eyes look from yours to your parted lips. But he didn’t kiss you, you don’t think you would let him. It felt too intimate. You just didn’t want another boring summer in Danbury and you were determined to have a fling. 
Who knew it would be with Joel Miller. But you wanted him. 
Your brave hands took him by the chest of his shirt, your mouth moving to his jawline as you balanced the tightrope of kissing and nibbling on the skin before your hands moved south to find his belt buckle. 
His legs naturally parted for you, catching a brief smirk on his lips as you took control of the situation. 
“Dirty girl goin’ right for my fuckin’ cock.” He whispered against the shell of your ear, a desperate nod leaving you while your cheek involuntarily rubbed against the stubble of his beard. You didn’t know he talked like that.
You initiated more space for yourself, nudging the inside of his thighs with your own legs as you had his back up against his drafting table with you no longer on his side but standing in front of him. 
Your quick fingers desperately undid his belt, feeling the old leather under your fingers. You didn’t have the balls to look at him and frankly, you were afraid you would lose your nerve if you did. 
His hands were encouraging for your nervous system, firm palms planted into your hips and even going as far as to squeeze the flesh that sat under your jean shorts. His body warmed you up, his eyes admiring you as you plucked open the button on his jeans. 
You pushed your tongue against your cheek in concentration, all of a sudden desperate at the thought of having him in your mouth. You dragged down the zipper, the relaxed denim exposing the black briefs he wore underneath that hugged his tan hips. 
You slowly sunk to your knees before him, as if you were worshiping a God. Maybe you were, it was Joel Miller, after all.
“This what you were learnin’ off at school?” Joel belittled, your head doing a few quick nods as a flush stained your cheeks. God. Something about Joel calling you a slut had you in a tailspin. You couldn’t wait anymore. 
Your fingers delicately felt over the impressive growth that his briefs held down, biting down on your bottom lip as you let your pointer finger make the outline of his girth. 
He let out an audible grunt at the action, his jaw jutted out, and his eyes filled with lust. “Lemme see that pretty mouth.” He practically purred, your chest rising and falling in anticipation as you slowly opened your mouth for him. You felt the intrusion of his thumb, a guttural moan leaving your throat as your big eyes stayed on his. He pinched at the inside of your cheek for a moment, your eyes twinging closed and opening back up with twinkling tears on the brim of flowing. 
“Good girl, keep that mouth open for me.” He encouraged as he pushed two fingers past your lips, testing you. And you were more than willing to accept his little challenge. His fingers pushed on the back of your tongue, feeling your lips graze all the way to his knuckle as you worked on breathing through the feeling of his fingers shoved down your throat. 
You were determined for him not to get the best of you, to prove how you had some experience under your belt. Your tongue willingly swirled around his digits, humming softly as you suckled. Now it was his turn to look like he was ready to fold. You felt him swell in your hand, the hand still stroking over his erection in his briefs. 
He ripped back his fingers, leaving them with a pop to your lips. Holy shit. You took a few deep breaths and swallowed, blinking back the tears that his fingers provoked from going so far down. 
“Damn, baby, look so pretty down on your knees for me. Don’t make me wait ‘ny longer.” Joel’s breaths were heavy, his southern drawl exaggerated in his lust-filled state. 
A proud smirk laced on your lips, his eyes on you as he watched you pry down the material of his briefs, watching as he lightly lifted his hips off the stool and using the drafting table behind him as leverage to let his jeans and boxers rest comfortably around the top of his thighs. What you had been craving slapped eagerly into the palm of your uninjured hand, an unexpected little moan leaving you. 
You studied his cock with anticipation, the glowing pinkish-red tip glistening with pre-cum from all the anticipation. He was generous in size, he would be the biggest you had ever taken. He was just… grown. You let out a satisfied little mmm, smirking up at him as your fist wrapped delicately around the base as you pumped over just the bottom half of him. 
Your hand came up to push some hair behind your ear but Joel was quick to handle that for you, stroking the stray pieces back behind your ear and then planting his palm right on the top side of your head. He tried to guide you closer but you just continued to smirk at him, a desperate grunt leaving the back of his throat. 
“Don’t play with me, kitten.” The nickname had you fawning, much better than the other nickname he had given you in the past. Maybe this new one would replace the old, the girl he dismissed before now a woman whose attention he craved. 
You guided his tip to gently tap at your flattened tongue, using his base to guide him until you generously wrapped your mouth around his leaking head. He let out a satisfied hiss which made you smirk, knowing you were the one making him dance on the line between pain and pleasure. 
You let out an involuntary mewl as the fist he had made in the back of your hair forced you further down his rigid member, feeling wet tears threatening to spill over your waterline as his tip nudged against the back of your throat. He said not to play with him and you disobeyed. 
Your palms flattened to the front of his thighs as you pushed yourself off of him, gasping for air as you swallowed the mixture of your spit and his leakage that clogged your throat. 
“So fuckin’ pretty chokin’ on me like that, such a pretty face.” He sneered, referring to your teary eyes. But the compliment made you blush and the choking and sobbing was all of a sudden worth it for the praise. 
After that, you craved to take all of him just like he wanted. Your head worked in subtle bobs, taking inch by inch of him at a time. Sometimes his hand in your hair guided you, allowing you to take him with confidence as he let out disgusting groans and low moans. 
Your gluck, gluck, glucks filled the shed, hot pants leaving your mouth around him but not willing to let your head up. Trails of your saliva attached themselves from his balls to your lips, the sight being a trophy for your hard earned deep throating. He was already so close, you couldn’t bear not to taste the prize you had worked so hard for. 
All of a sudden, Joel stood up from his seat at the drafting table and you couldn’t help but show a look of disappointment. You thought he was done, going to leave you like a mess on the floor with bruises on your knees from the cold concrete and your slobbery mouth feeling his loss. 
Your wet eyelashes fluttered as he returned to fist the hair at the top of your head and angled your face upward, watching as his other hand yanked on his member. The sight made your jaw drop. 
“Where do you want me to finish?” His words were pained, stretched thin as he tried to hold out for an answer from you. But you wanted him to finish, you wanted to watch his face contort from the wake of his orgasm that you helped create. 
“Mmm,” you hummed out as you purposefully prolonged his finish, watching as his chest puffed and his skin grew rosy from the heat flooding his body. Your cockiness was punished by a tighter grip in your hair, yanking your head closer to his shaft to force a real answer out of you. Your scalp stung but only a smile was on your face. 
“You wanna cum on my face, Mr. Miller?” You asked in the most innocent tone you could muster, your mouth parting at the sight of him. He looked heavenly. The glow from his shed lights made him appear as if he had an angelic glow. But you knew he was hellish, nothing close to an angel. 
Joel let out a scoffy little grunt at your question, a wicked smile gracing his lips as his hooded eyes slowly fell completely closed as the shock of his orgasm coursed through his body. 
You eagerly watched and you hated how hungry you knew you looked right now. You licked your lips, eager for his taste, eager to make the Joel Miller cum. You were desperate. 
His cock began twitching in his hand, watching as he methodically yanked out his own orgasm. His eyes lazily glanced between his shaft and to your large eyes, slowly smirking at the sight of you holding out for him. 
“Let me see that tongue, darlin’.” His words were breathy, just on the edge of no return. You obeyed, dropping your jaw and flashing him your tongue as you fluttered your eyelashes. At the sight alone, he finished himself off with eager grunts and short moans, you swore one of them was your name. 
His hot cum landed on your face, your eyes closing in satisfaction with a cocky smile. Most landed on your tongue, a few piping hot white strands splattered like paint on your cheeks and nose. All the air in your lungs left you as he tapped his pulsing tip eagerly against your tongue, watching with his jaw slack as he let the rest pool onto your tongue and down your throat. 
You swallowed knowing he was watching, his hand in your hair relaxing. He tasted better than you expected, a new craving. 
Instead of fisting your strands, he started stroking them away from your messy face, praising you as he tucked himself back into his pants.
Both no longer in the hot fantasy you swore you imagined once, you tried to collect yourselves. You shakily stood up from the ground, your knees cold from the concrete. You wipe off any dust or dirt they may have collected, sneaking glances at Joel as he fastened his belt around his waist once more and popping the button of his jeans back into place. 
You glanced around for a tissue, your back to him as you cleaned up your face. Oh my god, you were wiping Joel Miller’s cum off your fucking face.  As the two of you pieced yourselves back together, he reached for his discarded flannel that he had given you still resting on the metal chair you previously abandoned before settling between his legs. 
“Said you were cold. Take it.” He said as he fisted some of the material and looked at you expectantly. You sighed before gently taking the material and wrapping yourself in its warmth. 
As he placed a bandaid on your palm to cover your futile wound, you admired the flannel in all of its unknown beauty. 
It was one of his older ones, you sort of felt bad because you could only assume it was one of his favorites. It adorned a few minor holes and rips, some of which were badly stitched back together in an attempt to salvage it for another few years. Despite its appearance, you melted into it because it smelled like him. It smelled smoky like his cigarettes or maybe that was just the residual smoke from the bonfire. As you walked outside, you could smell it clearer.
Sandalwood with a hint of cinnamon, you wondered what cologne he used. 
Your head was lost in thought as you began to wander back towards the bonfire, a sharp clearing of his throat bringing you back to your senses. You whipped around, seeing as he pointed to the stray wood you had dropped from earlier.
“Oh-” you said bashfully as you returned to the pile with him, both of you knelt down picking up stray pieces. Once you started piling the wood in your arms again, he let out a short chuckle from deep inside him as he held your wrist from stacking more. 
“That’s enough for now, just go.” You liked seeing his face lit up like that, knowing you were the cause of it being even better. 
“Okay, Mr. Miller.” You cooed quietly, his face hardening at the name of adoration you had given him. 
“Okay, Skids. I’ll be seein’ you.” He said with a tight nod of his head, his eyes directing you back to the fire. You set down the firewood by the rocks surrounding it as a barrier, clearing your throat as you returned to the tailgate. You could still taste his cum on your tongue. 
No one seemed to notice your trip taking unexpectedly longer than necessary. Your parents were both swaying their heads and laughing, empty bottles by the legs of their folding lawn chairs to explain their obvious lack of awareness. 
Sarah had joined up with other friends in your absence, but you didn’t mind. 
You finally had a moment to reflect on what had just taken place in Joel’s shed. You let your vacation house neighbor cum in your mouth. Your older, stoic, stubborn ass of a neighbor. 
As if on cue, Joel returned to the side of his truck with his body leaning against the tailgate. His jean-clad hip lightly grazed your thigh, glancing over to see him offering you a beer. 
“Since you’re all grown up now.” He said with a little spark behind his eyes. You nodded and took the opened beer with a growing smile. 
“Cheers.” He offered as he held out his bottle to clink with yours. 
“Cheers to another summer in Danbury.” You tell him. 
He cocked his eyebrow and glanced over to you one more time before he focused his eyes on the growing fire. 
“This one ain’t quite like the rest.” It almost sounded like a promise from him. You hoped it was. Because you were wearing his flannel and you were on his knees for him tonight, you wondered what experience of Joel could offer you this summer. 
---
read part 2 - dark paradise!
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alessiasfreckles · 1 month
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amnesia - part 10 (ona batlle x alexia putellas x reader)
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part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9
a/n: this is what everyone meant by communication, right? right??? thank you to @codiemarin once again (and continually throughout this fic) for advice!!
---------
The next few minutes were a blur. Your fight or flight response kicked in, and your brain opted for flight. Before you even registered what was happening, you were in the back of a taxi, heart pounding.
The alcohol in your system was making it hard to think clearly, and as you stumbled out of the taxi and up the stairs to your apartment, your phone buzzed repeatedly. You pulled it out of your bag and groaned when you saw the missed calls and messages from both Ona and Alexia.
“Nope,” you mumbled, and turned your phone off.
When you finally got into your apartment, you kicked your shoes off, got a glass of water, and sat down on your bed with a groan. Your mind kept replaying the evening’s events, your conversation with Ona, your kiss with Alexia, Ona’s face, over and over again. You swore under your breath, falling back on the bed and covering your eyes with your pillow, and despite how wound up you were feeling, it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep.
You awoke with a start, sunlight streaming through your bedroom window. Shit, what time was it? Your phone was still off so your alarm hadn’t gone off, but the clock by your bed told you that you had about 15 minutes to get dressed and leave the house for your first physiotherapy session. Ugh, your first session back at the training grounds, where Ona and Alexia would be. Still, by now hopefully training would be in full swing, and the chances of you running into anyone would be fairly low.
As you got to the training ground and made it inside without seeing any of your teammates, you breathed a sigh of relief. You knew you had to face Ona and Alexia, had to talk to them, but you just didn’t know how. You felt awful for betraying Ona like that, and so guilty for using Alexia’s feelings for you. 
The session with the physiotherapist went by quickly, though it didn’t exactly make you feel any better about not being able to play football for the time being. Just being there was hard enough, knowing that your teammates were probably outside right now, kicking a ball around. 
You were so caught up in your thoughts about football as you left that you rounded a corner and ran straight into someone - two someones. 
Ona and Alexia. 
Fuck.
The two women looked at you, their surprised expressions quickly turning to relief.
“Y/N! Thank god you’re okay, we were so worried!” Ona said, breaking the silence. 
“We were trying to reach you all night, did you turn your phone off?” Alexia asked, a concerned frown on her face.
“I- um, yeah,” you stammered. Why wasn’t Ona angry with you?
“Maybe we should talk - all three of us,” Alexia suggested firmly, her captain voice coming out. You knew it wasn’t a suggestion, but an order, and nodded. As much as you didn’t want to face them both right now, it was clear that you needed to talk. 
You followed Alexia in silence to an empty training room, waiting until you were all inside with the door closed to start talking.
“Ona, I’m-” you started, but you were quickly interrupted by Alexia.
“Wait,” she said, holding a hand up. “I would like to go first. Y/N, there’s something you should know. I told you that I have liked you for a long time. That is true, but there’s something I didn’t tell you. I have also liked Ona for a long time.”
Wait- Alexia liked Ona? Romantically? You frowned and opened your mouth, but Alexia quickly cut you off again. 
“I’m still talking. Do you like me? As in, do you have a crush on me?” she asked, using air quotes around the word ‘crush’, which you supposed was fair. The way you felt was so much bigger than just a crush.
You glanced at Ona, who was watching you intently, and winced. “I’m sorry, Oni, but, yes, Ale. But, Oni, I love you as well, I promise.”
“Okay,” Alexia said calmly. “Oni, would you like to tell Y/N about your feelings?”
Ona blushed, looking down at the ground. “I love you, Y/N, but I- I also like Ale. A lot. I have for a long time, I just didn’t realise it.”
Okay, now you felt like you had to sit down. So, Alexia liked both of you, and Ona liked both of you, and you liked both of them? 
“Last week,” Alexia kept talking. There was more? “Ona and I kissed.”
Wait.
What?
“What?” you asked, your brain unable to comprehend what Alexia had just said.
“Last week, a week ago today, actually, Ona and I kissed. It only happened once, but it happened. That was when Ona realised her feelings for me,” the captain explained.
“So… on Monday, the day after I went to your place and we kissed,” you said, turning to Ona. “You kissed Ale?”
Ona nodded, biting her lip. 
“You kissed a week ago and you didn’t tell me?” you asked, frowning. 
“Ye-es, but-” Ona started, only for Alexia to cut her off as well.
“Si. Ona felt guilty and left immediately, but then we thought of something. She figured that you liked me, and we thought, what if all three of us could be together?”
You let out a harsh laugh, taking both women by surprise. “What?”
Alexia’s face remained composed. “What if all three of us could be together? You like me and Ona, Ona likes you and me, and I like both of you. What if we could all be together?”
Your brain felt like it was melting. “Wait, and you thought of this last week?”
The blonde nodded. “Si.”
“Is that why you were acting so weird all week, why you kept pushing me and saying weird stuff about Ale?” you asked Ona, who had the decency to look apologetic as she nodded. 
“We wanted you to think about this yourself, we didn’t want to push you so soon after your accident, and-” 
“So you decided the best way to do that was by lying to me? After I told you, told both of you, how upset the lying made me, especially after the accident, especially after I lost all my fucking memories and couldn’t even trust what my own brain was telling me?” you ranted. You were pissed off- no, you were angry. How could they do this to you? Regardless of anyone’s feelings, how could they lie to you and go behind your back like this?
“Ona, you made me feel fucking crazy!” you exploded, turning on her. “After I told you how upsetting it was not to know myself, you made me feel insane.”
The younger player had gone pale as she realised just what she’d done and how she’d made you feel. “I- I’m sorry, I-”
“And Ale! All that talk about how you would treat me like an adult, you’d let me make my own decisions. So that was just bullshit, huh? Guess I’m not adult enough to make my own decisions about things like my own relationships.”
Alexia winced at your words. “No, amor, I-”
“Save it,” you said. “I’m done talking to either of you.”
As the door swung closed behind you, the sound echoed in the hallway. It was only when you left the building and felt the warm Spanish sun beaming down on your face that you realised you were crying.
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amberlynnmurdock · 4 months
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Neighbor Pt. 2
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Matt Murdock x Reader
Summary: Matt makes sure she gets home safe after work, then officially introduces himself the next morning.
Words: about 1.6k
A/N: Trying out third person for fics, I kind of like it better than using "you" all the time... let me know what you guys think. Thanks for all the interest in being tagged!! <3 <3 <3
Part 1
Matt couldn’t stop thinking about her prayer the next day at work. He was anxious to get home from the office and immediately change into his Daredevil gear. Matt whispered a prayer holding his cross to his lips, and then stalked up his steps to the roof. 
This wasn’t the norm for Matt’s nighttime activities. He usually stood on the corner of his rooftop and listened for any sound of trouble in the city. The sound could be anything: police sirens, a scream, the scratchy sound of a gun tucked in someone’s jacket, the soft friction of a knife in someone’s bag. This time, he knew what was out for. 
He sat on his rooftop (their rooftop) and listened as she got ready. Not too closely, but enough to know that she was about to leave for work. She sprayed perfume on—warm vanilla—and closed her drawer. He heard her keys rattle and upon this, he crouched to listen as she walked down the apartment steps and outside. 
She didn’t work far, about eight blocks downtown. But it didn’t matter if one worked a block away or ten blocks: Hell’s Kitchen wasn’t safe at night. 
When she opened the door to her work, Matt heard bells jingling and an instant waft of coffee filled his senses. It wasn’t a coffee shop she worked at, though. From the smell of paper, leather, creaking wood, and suede couches, Matt surmised she worked at a bookstore. 
“Hey!” he heard someone greet her at the counter, another young woman. “Thanks for closing tonight. I appreciate it.”
“No problem,” Matt could hear the smile in her voice. "Close at nine, right?”
“Right.”
9 PM. 
This meant Matt had about four hours to kill elsewhere in the Kitchen before he’d come back to make sure she made it home safely. 
———
The hours passed, and Matt was already waiting in the alleyway of the bookstore, listening to her close-up for the night. Closing up meant politely telling customers the store was about to close, and Matt could hear the anxiety in her voice—she was in a rush to get home, in a rush to not be walking home alone. Although she didn’t know it, she didn’t have to worry—Matt would ensure she was safe. 
“Have a great night!” She told the last customer before shutting the large door and locking it. He heard her sigh as she began to quickly close up the front counter. And Matt waited. And waited. And waited.
Soon enough, she was walking out the front door and locking it behind her. Before she sauntered off in the direction of their apartment, she took a deep breath and looked both ways on the sidewalk. Matt presumed it was to see if there would be anyone walking behind her. There wasn’t. Using his senses, he quickly scanned the surrounding area and was relieved to find it relatively quiet with no disturbances. 
“Please, God,” she prayed once more in a whisper. “Get me home safe.” 
She began to walk, and Matt followed in the shadows. Her heart was pounding in her chest the faster she walked, anxious to get home sooner than later. She held her arms tight around her chest as she fought the wind blowing in her direction. 
Finally, approaching their apartment building, Matt quickly crawled up the fire escape to the roof and listened as she opened the door with her keys, letting the heavy door shut behind her. She rushed up the steps and quickly unlocked the door to her apartment. Once inside, she locked it again.
She breathed a sigh of relief.
Matt breathed a sigh of relief. 
“Thank you, God.”
Matt smiled softly. He quietly let himself in from the roof. 
———
Matt was awoken by the sound of pots and pans clattering in an apartment below him. Groaning, he turned in bed, silk sheets sliding all across his chiseled body, and pressed a pillow to his ear. The pillow was even worse, though—he could hear his blood rushing tenfold. In frustration, he threw the pillow off the bed and retreated to the sounds of clattering pans. 
His senseless eyes were open and remained on the ceiling. It had to be at least an hour earlier than when he was supposed to be awake. In another apartment, the TV played the news loudly, news he didn’t particularly want to hear this early. The static from the TV sounded like popcorn popping in a microwave. 
“Crime is rising again in Hell’s Kitchen, but can Daredevil manage it all—“
Matt refrained from that apartment and moved on to the next one. He was greeted with a loud, vibrating snore. 
Sigh. 
There were so many sounds, none pleasant to the ear. He wished he could turn off his heightened senses, from time to time…
But then he remembered her.
Was she awake?
Matt tilted his head in bed, focusing on her apartment which was only across from his. Inside, he could smell fresh lavender and honey tea. Soft baroque music was playing and Matt could hear her shift on her couch, turning the page of a book. Not many sounds came from her apartment. The only thing he wanted to listen to, however, was her heart. 
And so, he did. The gentle beating paired with the sound of paper being turned lulled him back to sleep.
After an extra hour of sleep, Matt got ready for work. He changed into his usual gray suit and black tie. As he was in the kitchen pouring himself a glass of orange juice, he was shocked to hear her getting ready for—something—as well. In a leap of curiosity and anticipation, Matt drank his OJ in one gulp and grabbed his suitcase just in time to “run into” her on his way out. 
She sprayed her perfume and headed out the door, at the same time as Matt.
———
She was mildly curious about her neighbor, the one who lived across the hall from her. She only saw him occasionally. When she did see him, she made it a point to say hello, at the very least.
“Good morning,” she said softly. Good morning was all she ever said. Maybe she would say more if she weren’t so shy. 
“Morning,” he replied with a smile. When she did run into him, she was always reminded of how handsome he was. Always donned in a well-pressed gray suit and a briefcase. Dark red glasses to hide whatever color his eyes were. Light stubble on a sharp jawline. Chocolate brown hair. She’d read enough books to know he had to be a businessman or lawyer. 
“Early start to your day?” He asked while she still faced her door to lock it. She paused holding her keys in her hand. 
She was caught off guard by the follow-up question—their interactions never lasted more than a greeting, but still, she was gladly roped into conversation. At least he was the one to initiate it. 
“Yeah,” she said, “luckily I have the earlier shift today. Get to leave early and beat the dark.”
“I hear you,” he said softly. “I’m—I’m Matt, by the way. I don’t think I’ve ever introduced myself.” Matt held his hand out for her to shake, which she did. She quickly switched her keys into her other hand and took Matt’s, which felt soft and cold. She slowly pulled her hand back as she introduced herself, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. A moment of silence filled the space between them. He stood with one hand in his pocket, one hand holding his cane. He smiled in a friendly way. 
“So uh, what do you do?” He asked. 
“I work at a bookstore a few blocks down,” she nervously pushed a hair behind her ear and felt her cheeks heat in a blush. “What about you?”
“I’m a defense attorney,” he said sheepishly. “A bookstore?” He changed the subject off from himself. “What kind of books do you carry?”
She smiled at his question, resisting the urge to giggle. “A lot of books. Fiction, non-fiction, fantasy. What do you like?” 
Matt huffed his chest, shrugged his shoulders, and spun his cane around as he thought about it. “Anything. It’s been a long time since I’ve read for pleasure. I think the past few years have been dedicated to my law books,” he laughed. She mirrored his reaction and laughed as well. “Do you—carry any books in braille?”
For some reason, his question made her demeanor soften a bit. She bit her lip, thinking if her store carried any. She had a feeling they might have a small section but wasn’t sure. She’d be glad to order something special—just for him, if not.
“I’ll check today. If we do, I’ll drop a book off for you. It’ll be a surprise.” 
“I’d love that.” 
“Great,” she smiled. “Well, I better get on my way so I’m not late.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Matt offered. She nodded her head, then quickly spoke again, realizing her mistake of nodding. 
“Sure, that’d be nice.”
Just as they were about to walk down, Matt suddenly stopped in his steps. “Oh, I think you forgot to lock your door.”
“Oh!” She gasped nervously, not even realizing she walked away without locking it. She quickly slid the key in the lock and locked it, then met Matt again at the stairs. 
He began to walk down them with his cane hitting each step in front of him. She watched as he carefully held onto the railing and slowly took each step. Normally, she zipped down the stairs, but today, she took her time to walk with him. She half wanted to offer her arm for him to hold onto but didn’t know if that was appropriate.
Outside was overcast, meaning the bookstore would be busier than usual. After a slightly awkward goodbye from Matt, and her promising him again about the book in braille, she walked in the direction of the bookstore, but not before glancing once more behind her to watch as Matt made his way down to his job. 
TAGS: @mattmurdocksstarlight @yentroucnagol @danzer8705 @allllium @i-marvel-bitch @mattsgirlsworld
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foreingersgod · 13 days
Text
Is it Casual now? . CC
pairing: caitlin clark x reader
synopsis: you thought you and caitlin were endgame, but now things are starting to feel a bit different
A/N: will be shifting the “ending” of the song so that we can all enjoy a happy ending lol
My friends call me a loser
'Cause I'm still hanging around
“YN come on we’ve had these plans set for weeks now” your roommate complained from her spot on your couch.
life had been so hectic recently and you barely had anytime to hang out with your girls. so when you heard caitlin was going to be out of town for the week and you had work off, you thought to set plans with your roommates to have a movie night and dinner at your place.
“seriously, you’re just gonna ditch us off?” another one of your roommates chimed, slightly irritated. you were scrambling around your apartment, throwing things into your overnight bag for when you arrived at caitlin’s place. “caitlin shoots you one quick text that she’s back in town earlier than expected and you’re immediately at her beck and call?”
you rolled your eyes. you knew what they thought of caitlin, that she was a player and only wanted you for one thing. but to you, it felt different, like she genuinely wanted you there at her side
I've heard so many rumors
That I'm just a girl that you bang on your couch
“she just wants you for a quick fuck, YN”
you’ve heard it all before. and you were very aware of how bad it looked from the outside. caitlin would only reach out late at night, never took you out, never bought you gifts, or offered to come over to your place. no wonder everyone thought you were just a booty call, every possible flag was blazing red.
and you often had your fair share of skepticism when caitlin called you up at 2 am with a “sorry i hadn’t called all week, you down to come over?”. but you always felt so worshipped when you were with her, completely blinded by the attention and false promises.
I thought you thought of me better
Someone you couldn't lose
she fucking stood you up. again.
you were sat at a bar, swirling the contents of your lip stick stained class. the classy black dress you wore suddenly felt suffocating and your eyes welled with tears. you couldn’t stop staring at the blaring 9:30 on your phone, thinking back to your conversation with cait the night before.
cait <3 : yea baby i can do 8:30, how does that bar down town sound?
you : that sounds really nice, see you then :)
it was your fault really, you kept hoping she would change. that maybe one of these dates would actually mean something to her, but after sitting in a bar alone waiting for an hour for her arrival, you were starting to lose your optimism.
sick of waiting, you paid your tab and left, not even thinking of texting caitlin back.
You said, "We're not together"
So now when we kiss, I have anger issues
“i missed you last weekend, cait” you muttered, pushing her face away from the crook of your neck, letting your head fall back against the pillow.
she had sent yet another text to you a few hours ago, asking if she could makeup for standing you up. of course, you gave in immediately.
she had sweet talked you so nicely when you arrived at her apartment. whispering in your ear, leaving trails of kisses down you neck and abdomen, taking your clothes off so gently. but the thought of her possibly abandoning you again lingered in the back of your mind.
“i know, i already said im sorry,” she attempted to seduce you with a kiss to the cheek “am i not showing it well enough?” now a kiss to the jawline.
she knew what she was doing, trying to act all innocent with flattery and kisses. if you weren’t so sick of the back and forth between the two of you, you would have let it convince you.
“cait, please. i want to talk about this”
“what is there to talk about?” her voice, once inviting was now laced with anger and irritation.
“don’t get defensive with me” you sat up, pushing her off your vulnerable body “i’m just trying to tell you that what you’re doing is hurting my feelings”
she looked at you expressionless, fingers rubbing at her temples.
“i want to spend time with you and it hurts when you ignore me and stand me up and-”
“yea, well we’re not together so…” she cut you off sharply.
it felt like a punch to the gut, hearing her say that. yea it was true, you weren’t together, but you don’t just act like the person you’re fucking isn’t worth anything to you.
“wow” you didn’t even know what to say. your eyes stung and you chest heaved with humiliation. did she truly think this wasn’t “together”?
You said, "Baby, no attachment"
“YN i really don’t know what you want me to say…i thought we both agreed that this was a casual thing?” she tried to tell you as you angrily picked up your discarded clothes from her bedroom floor.
“i don’t care what we SAID, caitlin” you stopped, buttoning up your shirt, looking her in the eyes “it’s what we keep DOING.”
“what are you talking about?”
“i know we said this was just a casual thing, but- but things started to change. we…ugh i don’t even know how to say it, but it just feels so different when we’re together. more than a casual hookup.”
she’s looking at you confused, pleading for an explanation.
“like when we hooked up that time after Iowa’s big game, you were knee deep in the passenger seat and eating me out? is that casual?”
she scoffed and rolled her eyes, but you egged on.
“or when your mom invited me to her house on Long Beach last summer? what about that, is that causal now?” your face felt hot as you raised your voice to her. you had surprised your self with these accusations.
“I hate that I let this drag on so long, caitlin, and now I hate myself”
all she did was stare, studying the features of your face. every crinkle in your nose, the way your lips quivered with anger, and every twitch of your right eyebrow was now forever embedded in her mind. she knew you were right, deep down, knew that she had fucked up so bad and that you only hated yourself because of her. she knew that her inability to commit had caused you pain and her avoidance issues had gotten out of hand.
“i’m sorry” she admitted, “i’m so fucking sorry that it hurts”
“caitlin, why? am i truly just a quick fuck to you?”
your question nearly knocked the wind out of her. she stood off the bed and meandered over to where you stood at the door, your pants still undone and your items thrown haphazardly into your overnight bag.
“no,” she breathed “you’re so much more than that”
it’s like you couldn’t speak, unable to do much else other than stare at her quizzically.
“i know i’ve treated you like shit. that i’ve fucked up far beyond fixing”
“so why don’t you show it? why sit here and tell me that it’s ok to ignore me and stand me up because we’re just ‘not together’? i don’t get it cait”
her hands ran over her face in frustration, she hated the confrontation. having to tell you all of this was sending her into a spiral. things were fine before tonight, she was able to do want she wanted and ignore all her feelings. and it all came crashing down the second she had gotten you into her bed, instantly faced with reality. tonight was it. she needed to be honest with you.
“i didn’t think i could love someone as much as i love you” she blurted out, which was followed by a deafening scoff from you.
“i’m serious,” she retorted “obviously i haven’t shown that, i’ve done nothing but be cruel to you. but the moment i met you, i knew you would have some sort of hold on me. and it scared me, YN”
you tried to interrupt, to take another stab at her childish behavior, but she kept going.
“i was so scared that i’d lose you, that you’d see through me and all my issues and eventually realize that i’m not worth having a real relationship with. so i tried to keep my distance from you, tried not to see you so it didn’t absolutely tear my heart apart, but i couldn’t help myself. i needed to have you, just a little bit, so i what it felt like to be loved by you. i just couldn’t risk ruining you, taking away a genuine life that you truly deserve all because i’m fucked up and avoid everything. and hooking up with you, to be completely transparent, has only made it worse because…because now i’ve seen what i actually lost”
“you,” there weren’t any words to express how you felt right now “you don’t need to avoid me, cait, you won’t ruin me. i know what i want in a relationship. it’s you, i want you”
“i’m just scared you’ll finally see past this whole thing and see that you don’t actually want me like that”
“i know you. i know that past this,” you waved your hands, gesturing between the two of you “there’s a different caitlin clark. one who doesn’t undermine herself and recognizes that she’s deserves real love just like how i deserve it. one that can address her commitment issues before they get out of hand like this did. one that won’t stand me up, that won’t shoot me down because she has ‘practice’. i know that the real you is perfectly capable of change.”
“i’m scared.” was all she managed “but i want to do better for you, i don’t think i can be without you, please let me fix this”
it came out as a desperate whisper, almost incomprehensible, but you heard her loud and clear.
“it’s going to take some time…but i’m willing to work on this.”
“i swear to god, YN, i’m going to be so much better. i’m done with the hookups and the late night texts. i just want you. all of you”
your hand found her cheek, pulling her towards you gently to place an intimate kiss on her lips.
“i believe you”
231 notes · View notes
strawberri-elixir · 4 months
Text
Sleepless nights
╰⇢ 9. Good shit
Warnings: just yuta being in denial again?? (no surprise tho)
note: THERE’S WRITING AFTER THE FIRST 10 IMAGES you don’t wanna miss it :] also thank you for all the support?! i never thought there would be many people who would want to read this series. but i’m thankful for all of you <3
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“Alright. So how about we all split up into pairs while we go around the mall?” Nobara took a sip of her drink as you all began leaving the food court.
“That would probably be easier.” Yuta nodded.
“But there’s seven of us.” You added.
“You guys will just have to be in a group of three.” Maki slung her arm over Nobara’s shoulder, giving a sly grin to the black haired boy.
“I don’t think-” Yuta tried to protest.
“Perfect! Inumaki, you’ll come with us!” You interjected, taking a hold of the boy’s hand.
Maki watched with an amused look as Yuta glared at her. He knew exactly what she was trying to do, but it’s not like he could do anything about it.
“Let’s go then!” You began dragging the two boys away.
The three of you then began strolling through the mall, pointing at windows and looking inside the stores. You did most of the dragging, pulling Yuta and Inumaki into whatever store caught your eye.
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“Look at this!” You smack Yuta’s arm to get his attention. The three of you were currently stationed at the front counter of an antique shop, looking at all the various trinkets that were displayed behind the glass barrier.
In this case, you were focused in on a simple silver ring. The obviously well-loved wedding band sat in a velvet box, practically begging for attention. You couldn’t help but stare at it.
Small engravings ran through the material, creating intricate designs across the entire surface. A truly beautiful piece of jewelry. It almost drew you in, in some way. Like a magnet.
“I’m almost scared to ask how much that is.” Yuta chuckled.
“It can’t be as bad as you think.” You smile. “How much is this ring?” You ask the old lady behind the counter, pointing at the silver ring.
“That one? It’s 50 dollars. But for a young one like yourself, I’ll let you have it for 40.” She smiled.
As much as you appreciated the kindness, you politely declined. Not because you felt bad, but because you simply couldn’t afford it. It was times like this when you really wished you had a job.
“I can pay for it.” Yuta offered.
“No way! I’d actually feel bad if you payed for this. 40 bucks is a lot even for you!” You immediately shut him down.
It’s true, 40 dollars is a lot for broke high school students, even if they have jobs. You couldn’t allow Yuta to spend that kind of money on you.
“You sure? You’ve been eyeing that ring for a solid 15 minutes while we looked around the store.”
“Positive.” You gave the ring one more glance before forcing yourself to leave the store. “Let’s go. Any more staring and I’ll regret not having enough money.”
“Alright, I just want to look at some of those old journals before we go, just wait outside for me.” Yuta shooed you away.
You roll your eyes with a smile, turning your attention to Inumaki as the two of you walked out. “I bet he’s gonna take a long time.”
The two of you found a bench to wait for Yuta, sitting down side by side, the two of you sat in silence. It wasn’t long before Inumaki pulled out his phone, swiping to a game and started playing.
“What are you playing?” You lean over and watch the boy tap away on his screen. He angled his phone to you, displaying a familiar game layout. “Oh! You play Genshin?”
The boy gives you a simple not. It was obvious he wasn’t much of a talker, but that didn’t bother you.
“That’s cool. I don’t really play but I really like watching this one streamer play.” You started going on about the game. “If I’m annoying you, just tell me, okay?”
“You’re not bothering me. Keep going.” He mumbled.
It was the first time you ever heard him actually speak to you. His voice was low, lower than Yuta’s at least. A little husky from the lack of use. But soft at the same time.
You couldn’t help but smile. It was like the next step in your already growing friendship. You continued to watch the boy play, leaning on his shoulder as time went on.
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Masterlist | Next
fun facts:
— even though she’s all for the chaos, maki does genuinely want yuta to be happy and confess his feelings
— inumaki has his phone always on do not disturb because of the amount of notifications he gets
— the original monster energy drink is yuta’s favourite because he rarely drinks them (you try to get him to try different flavours but he just doesn’t like them)
taglist:
@sur-i-ki @aespaforlifersyall @camilo-uwu @butterflyqueen234 @shinsukeee @tanchosanke @emii4evr @lees-chaotic-brain @you-always-made-me-blush @jayathelostdragon @chilichopsticks @polarbvnny @instantmusico @sad-darksoul @hellyyy06 @rosieandthethorns @zellwa @iluv-ace @h3xi2g0n3 @morgyyyyyyy @bellaabee082
Bold means I for some reason can’t tag you! I don’t know why :[
264 notes · View notes
ofherpinkways · 7 months
Text
I҉̡̯̺̜̅́͋̃͢͜n̸͐̈́͟͟͝ M̶̶҉̳͈̺͟͢͠͠ͅȳ̸̵̩̜͔͍̔́͟͟͢͡ R̴҉̷̨̖̮̉͑ͯ̑̋͟͠o҉̢̡̲͇̌͗̀͢͝o҉̢̡̲͇̌͗̀͢͝m̴̵҉̸̲̗̰̼͗͌̃̇͟͟͟͠͞͠
( My friends and I giggle about how the "Love ", "In my room " part sounds like Stewie Griffin singingI tried my best yall - 🤍🩰🧸)
cod men x fem reader fic based off the song(Warnings blood,gore,violence,please beware of the lyrics as they may cause triggers)
*tap* *tap* *tap* "Are you gonna let me in ?*tap* Hello? Hello ? "
You died two years ago on a mission , just "simple" way to go , getting caught in the across fire. "Just the wrong place,wrong time" they said
2:45 and the bell went off,thank God
Many people think i'm odd
He hasn't acted the same since, how could he ? You were the love of his life. The small flame of hope in his darkness and trauma. Now you're gone 6 feet under the below rotting way
But I talk with no one and I walk alone
And I avoid sunlight with a chalky tone
I get home and I don't say hi,it ain't no one there
He stopped talking to everyone completely , shutting everyone out as he rebuilt the walls. The walls that you were helping him break down. Instantly going to his dorm after every mission without saying anything
I don't care,I walk and go right up the stairs
To my room,get in bed and I just wait for dark
He sits in his dorm for hours on end lost in dark thoughts
Because that's when the real show starts
(Tap,tap) tap,tap on the glass go the piece of ass
He eventually started seeing things , YOU. He started showing up about year after your death
So young and pretty ,it's too bad she passed
There you stood again pale and cold
But she comes to my room and we talk at night
You've been showing up every night for about two months now
She's demonic and bloody but she holds me tight
Obviously it wasn't actually you. You stand there lifeless with glossy eyes and a sinister,stomach turning grin .(like the one smiles in Smile 2022) He didn't care
In my bedroom,with her,I'm never alone
And I kiss her cold lips until the morning comes
You guys spend the nights in heated make out sessions
Then she gone,I can still hear her voice loom
But she only exists in the dark of my room
Love,I can't ignore you
In my room
Do anything for you (tap,tap)
Love,I do adore you
He became obsessed
In my room
(Tap,tap go the piece of ass) you and I
I try and smile a lot but I'm always frontin'
But I do love a ghost and at least that's somethin'
She don't talk much and when she does,it gets cold
3:00 am now and the whole Base grows cold , nothing feels right
Usually we just lay there,where we hold we each other
We're lovers, we don't need others
The two of you stay snuggled against another
One of my mother's cats jumped up on the covers
And it scared my baby,'cause she don't like pets
The k-9's started to bark loudly outside of the barracks not liking the dark eerie presence in the air , causing you to leave him
So I twisted its fuckin' head off at the neck
"Look baby,it's bloody,it's gone,it's doomed
"please! come back to the room"
"I'll do anything for thee,don't ignore me"
This is more than a sick love story
There he sat begging and crying for you to return
Without you,I'd bring a shotgun to school
And I will if you want me to,for any reason
I hate that you leave when the lights come on
And if I had it my way the fuckin' sun would be gone
Love, I can't ignore you
In my room
Do anything for you (tap,tap)
Love, I do adore you
In my room
Tap,tap go the piece of ass) you and I
Love, I can't ignore you
In my room
Do anything for you (tap,tap)
Love,I do adore you
In my room
(Tap,tap go the piece of ass) you and I
He just wants you back
Sometimes I kiss her,I start shakin'
Your demonic self has him on a choke hold
She slips me the tongue and it tastes like bacon
There the two of you sit kissing in the dark,footsteps are near by
Uh-oh,something's wrong, baby's upset
you pulled away from him,your frown shifting to smirk
She told me she was spotted by the neighbor's kid
She can't come back now.'cause they know our secret
Unless I can make them keep it
One of the other guys "saw" you
If i do, she may come back to life
Now I'm in their yard with a shotgun and knife
Cut the screen,went and sun the kid
Blew a bowl of spaghetti in the side of his head
He got up and out of the dorm,pinning his own teammate,his own friend to the wall bashing his head against the brick wall in fit of rage
Then the daddy was next,next runnin down
He went after everyone else
I shredded his throat and he was quick to fall,tossed the Mossberg and gribbed the knife
Started stabbing the shit of his wife
One by one he got to everyone
Went home a bloody mess with a job well done (tap,tap)
Wash up and wait for my baby to come (tap,tap)
He cleaned himself up and sat in his bed waiting for you
Love, I can't ignore you
In my room
Do anything for you (tap,tap)
Love,I do adore you
In my room
(Tap,tap go the piece of ass) you and I
Love, I can't ignore you
In my room
Do anything for you (tap,tap)
Love,I do adore you
In my room
(Tap,tap go the piece of ass) you and I
There he sat waiting
I waited two, or three days, four days
Waitn' for the tap tap like always
Days passed and you still haven't shown up yet
I waited and hated this
I created a bloody mess
Guilt started to hit him
I waited for two, or three months, four months
Waitn' for the tap,tap just for once
I waited two, or three days, four days
Waitn' for the tap tap like always (where is she?)
I waited and hated this(why isn't she comin' back ?)
I created a bloody mess (tap,tap)
Worry started to hit him
I waited for two, or three months, four months(I fuckin' killed those people!)
He killed his teammates, his friends
Waitin' for the tap,tap just for once ("where the fuck is she ?")
I waited and hated this (tap,tap)
I created a bloody mess(why isn't she coming back?)
(Love) I waited two or three days,four days
GUILT
(In my room) waitin 'for the tap,tap like always (I can't believe I did)
WORRY
(Love) I waited and hated this
GUILT
(in my room,you and I)I created a bloody mess ("I killed them")
WORRY
(Love) I waited two or three months, four months
(in my room) waitin' for the tap,tap just for once ("where is she")
GUILT
(Love) I waited and hated this
(In my room you and I) I created a bloody mess
He went insane
274 notes · View notes
lacedinweb22 · 10 months
Text
drunk and crushing (Miguel O’Hara x reader) (part 1)
🕸️ Entangled series 🕸️ ch. 2 prev part
Warnings - alcohol, house party, sexual references 
Summary: After your physics midterm, a group of classmates invite you and your friend, Miguel, to “a small party” they’d be throwing late at night. You both get drunk, and Miguel is especially protective and flirty with you; your feelings and crushes on each other are revealed as the night goes on.
FYI: Some words will be bunched together but that’s just me representing slurred drunken words. ALSO this will be in parts so get ready to be fucking edged. Sorry >:D I hope you enjoy &lt;;3 
I imagine this playing in the background of this part's party scenes so I HIGHLY recommend listening to this with headphones on while reading:
youtube
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚
We walked out of class together, side by side. “Sooo, I mean, I’ll only go if you go,” he said, nudging my shoulder, smirking with that annoyingly perfect, pearly smile. “Hmmm, ‘a small party,’ she said, I don’t know, I don’t believe that… I hate large gatherings and… I don’t know half of the people that’ll be there,” I muttered, my eyes following the passing squirrels then glancing back up at Miguel. 
What was the point of going when I knew I would just have to witness every girl and their mother trying to suck this man off in the bathroom??? He’d be busy all night, away from me, why bother? I prefer our mini study dat– sessions. Study sessions. 
“Yeah… I know, but you’ll be with me, so you can just… you know, stick with me,” he suggested, shrugging and smiling down at me, his gaze stuck on me as we walked. I smiled, looking at our feet walking together. Stick with him. “Okay, fine, yes, let’s do it. I’ll feel better… that way.” “Okay, I’ll pick you up at 9 then?” 
Pick me up? Jesus, why are you like this? Stop being so fucking nice to me; it makes it so much harder to get over you. 
It’s fine. He’s just being a good best friend. Friend. We. Are. Just. Friends. He’s just being nice. 
“Yes, sounds perfect… thank you, Mig, can’t wait,” I said, giving him a thumbs up as I walked away from him. “Hey, where are you going?” he called out. “I’m going to go meet up with a friend, I’ll see you later tonight, M” I yelled back. “Okay… Y/N,” he muttered, his eyebrows softly scrunched with confusion, lifting his hand up to say goodbye. 
* * *
I wore my favorite vintage black strapless dress, and long knee high socks stuffed into my black mary janes. My waves trickled down my shoulders and collar bones. I feel so pretty. I wonder if Miguel will think the same. 
He texted me that he’d be here in five. I sat on the short garden wall outside of my apartment complex, waiting for Miguel. He was always early. Always. 
Sure enough, he pulled up, smiling and saluting me. “Present, Captain Y/N,” he said, as I walked towards the car door. Before I knew it, he was out of the car, about to open the door for me. As he approached the car door, his eyes scanned me up and down. “You look… really nice. Super beautiful.” I felt my face warm up. “Thank you, Mig,” I replied, shyly. I got in, he closed the door, then went to his side. He got in and began to drive. 
“And you. I love that moto jacket on you… and you smell nice,” I replied, leaning towards him, my face near his chest, sniffing him. “Hey, I always smell good,” “Yeah, you do, you do, but you know, it’s a party, I get it. Love, drugs, weed, pussy. I get it,” I replied, hands up. He laughed and rolled his eyes, his deep laugh so rich, music to my ears. He smelled so good. His jacket must be fucking drenched in his smell. I wanted to touch him so badly, to feel his snug t-shirt, his warm muscles against my fingertips. I just knew–“Y/N,” he dragged out. “Yes, sorry, what was the question?” I responded quickly. “You smell good too, and you look pretty, I mean you always look pretty, I mean I just… is there someone from our class you’re looking forward to seeing?” God, you have no idea. “Ummmm, no, nope, no. There isn’t. Is there… someone you–” “No, no. Just the drugs and the weed,” he replied, nodding. I scoffed. Sure. 
We pulled up to the house party. There were a million cars and what seemed like a million people inside and outside crowding around the front yard. Colorful lights glowed through the windows as people danced and trashed their red solo cups everywhere.  
We found parking, then walked towards the chaos. As we approached, Miguel grabbed my hand. I looked down at it then back up at him. “Stick with me, okay?” he urged, squeezing my hand twice. I nodded. His large, muscular hand wrapped around mine. He was so warm; his calloused palms rubbed softly against mine as we walked in. 
We pushed through the crowd to get to the kitchen. The speakers blasted music and sent vibrations across the floor and throughout my body. I clung onto Miguel as we pushed through the crowd. He towered over everyone, as the longing eyes of girls and the envious eyes of guys followed him.
We found Lizzie, our friend from physics, pouring shots for a few other classmates I recognized. “Miguel and Y/N,” she hummed out, teasingly.  “You two are so cute! I’m so glad you could both make it!” she exclaimed, winking at me. “Us too,” Miguel replied, squeezing my hand and bumping my shoulder. “Do you guys want some of… this?” she said smirking, holding up a bottle of tequila. Miguel looked down at me for approval. I shrugged. “I’ll do one if you do one,” I told him, smiling. He grinned down at me then nodded to Lizzie.  She grabbed a shot glass then a larger glass, 3x the size of mine. “He’s much bigger than you,” she said, shrugging, as she poured them out then slid one in front of each of us. “Fuck, what have we gotten ourselves into?” I asked, picking up the small glass and looking up at Miguel. He raised his glass up to mine and tapped it, “I guess we’ll have to find out,” he said, smirking.
Our eyes met as we both brought the shot glasses to our lips, never breaking eye contact. We downed the shots. Miguel took it extremely, scarily well, as I gasped and hovered over the counter processing the burn. I felt the warmth spread down into my chest. “Mmm that was so yummy,” I moaned. Miguel patted my back and laughed, “Let me get you a soda or something, wait Y/N, have you eaten?” I kept my head down and breathed out, “I saw Dr. Peppers back there, please, God, and yeah… umm I had mac & cheese earlier.” He patted my back then walked away. 
“You need a drink?” I turned around to see a guy I knew from physics holding out a plastic cup to me. “Oh, no I’m good, thank you, Miguel should be bringing me something right about now,” I responded, peering behind him. Where is he? It was just righ– “I don’t see him,” he responded smugly, shrugging. I awkwardly laughed. He was cute, but he wasn’t… him. His eyes were glued to my lips. “Ha, ummm, yeah well, so… how do you feel about the midterm?” I asked, trying to ignore the tension. 
Lizzie brushed by me, handing me a new shot glass, raising her eyebrows. I didn’t feel the first one in the slightest, so I obliged. I downed the shot, breathed out, caught my breath, and looked back at Jack. 
“It was fine. Anyways, Y/N, I see you every lecture, and I’ve always wanted to, you know, talk to you, but you’ve– I mean shit, you got him following you around like a lost puppy–” “Hey, what? Where is this coming from? Miguel’s my friend, he’s my best friend, how is he like a lost puppy?” I argued, offended. “I mean everyone sees how he looks at you,” he replied, confused, like I was the one missing something. “Everyone? What do they see or… think? What do you mea–” “Do you not–? You’re not together? You haven’t…?” he asked, bewildered. “Nope, just friends,” I sighed, grabbing a can off of the counter and chugging. “But hey, thanks for the reminder,” I breathed out before chugging more of whatever this bitter shit was. I need to forget that Miguel doesn’t want me, that he could never think of me the way I think of him. 
Jack smiled, and leaned on the counter closer to me, his elbow getting closer and closer to my chest. I looked down at his elbow then up at him with furrowed eyebrows. “You’re close,” I asserted. “You look beautiful tonight, truly. You know what? We should go take a quick hit outside,” he smirked, holding up a joint. “Nah, I’m good, It’s niceandwarm in here and Miguel shouldbecomingtosaveme any minutenow,” I shook my head no, realizing how heavy my head felt. Fuck, this beer can feels a little heavy. “You’re so pretty,” he whispered, getting closer to my face. “We should go get brunch sometime,” he added. Brunch? “That’svery kind but I’m good. DamnIsaid Iwasgood like fifty times. I’m waiting forMiguelllll, my best friend, my buddy, so don’t worry about me! Go check out someone else who’s lonely, I’m not lonely.” “You look lonely,” he reasoned. “Hey, you fucki–” I stopped as I noticed his eyes grow fearful as his gaze looked up above my head. “What are youlookingat, weirdo?” I asked, sharply, reaching my fingertips to my hair. 
“Hey, Miguel,” Jack breathed out, grinning fearfully. I looked up to see Miguel behind me peering down at Jack. I watched as he kept his eyes on Jack while lowering a Dr. Pepper into my hand. “Here, Y/N,” “Thank you, Miguel,” I mimicked, looking up at him then back at Jack. 
“I’m here. You can leave her alone now,” Miguel hissed at Jack. I like this side of him. Darkened eyes, heavy voice, angst. Gives me chills. “We were just talking about a fucking midterm,” Jack muttered as he walked away. “Yeah okay, pinche gringo,” he called out to him. I turned around and looked up at him. His cheeks were flushed, and his hair slightly messier than when I saw him ten minutes ago. Where had he gone? Who was he with?
“Miguel,” I scolded, holding in my laugh. “What if he understandsSpanish, huh? They’re gonna kickyourass out,” I reasoned. “Nofighting here. This is a peacezone,” I said squeezing his forearm. He shrugged, “Ni modo.” I rolled my eyes then drank more from the can. “Hey, where’d you get that?” Miguel asked, grabbing it out of my hand, analyzing the label. He swiftly drank what was left of the beer then offered me the soda he brought. He lifted my other hand grasping the soda up to my lips, then bit the tab up, snapping the soda open inches away from my lips. “Drink this,” he muttered, through his teeth before spitting the soda tab onto the counter. “Haaaa I forgot about this!” I laughed out. “Yeah, yeah drink some,” he laughed, supporting my hand. 
I drank a good amount then pressed it to his lips. His soft pink lips wrapped around the can rim. His eyes stuck to mine as he sipped some. My cheeks burned.
He then grabbed my hand and led me to the upstairs living room. There were far less people and the music wasn’t as loud. A friend stopped Miguel by the mini bar, so I stood beside him as they talked. I subconsciously remained holding his hand, which he held firmly on his lap as he talked to his friend about school. Lizzie and a few of her friends came by again, handing Miguel and I shots. Miguel hesitated as he looked down at his glass, then looked back at me and my now empty shot glass. He stared at me with extreme concern, then continued talking to the guy who was bombarding him with questions about the midterm. 
He continued glancing at me, worriedly. “What are youlookingat?” I asked, pushing him with my body, “oops sorry I just meant to nudgeyou not push you, woah you’re so firm, I’ve never felt yourchestbefore geez you’re so strong, wait doyouthinkyou could lift me up? Try carrying me!” I blurted, laughing. A bit of pink creeped into his cheeks, as he smiled and put his hand on my fingers lingering on his chest. “Yeah, Y/N, you’ve had a little too much. No more, okay?” he urged, almost scolding me. “Damnnnn okay, MOMMMM!” I replied, rolling my eyes. He turned to his friend and excused himself, then stood up and turned to face me. He looked down at me, his eyes glaring, as I looked up at him, smiling fearfully. He wrapped his forearms around the back of my thighs, lifted me, and gently carried me over his shoulder, within one second. I was weightless to him. I laughed non stop, as he put me down slowly and rolled his eyes. “Wait couldyoulift me like, like wrappedaroundyou like you know…?” I asked, excited. Jesus, someone stop me.
He tilted his head, looking at me critically, then succumbed. He wrapped his hands on the back of my thighs then effortlessly lifted me up so we were chest to chest, heart to heart. His hands remained on the back of my thighs, my dress was now riding up, probably showing my underwear to the world. I was too drunk to care, and too focused on Miguel to care. 
My arms wrapped around his neck, as our faces were inches apart. We looked into each other’s eyes then down at each other’s lips. My heart is beating dangerously fast. Can he feel my heart racing? It felt like 10 minutes had passed us by, when in reality it had been mere seconds. He put me down slowly, as we held eye contact. I wasn’t laughing anymore. 
That sobered me up. I cleared my throat and tugged my dress down. His gaze was still glued onto me. His gaze felt different. Has he always looked at me like that? “Let’s go over there,” I suggested, as I pointed at a group of people playing beer pong on the balcony. I hated crowds, but I needed more sobering up; the alcohol was hitting me like a bus. He held my hand and followed me, as I led him through the crowd this time.
As we approached the balcony and made our way through the crowd, the music grew intensely loud. We now had to shout to hear each other. “‘SMALL PARTY’ MY ASS!” I shouted to Miguel. “I KNOW,” he laughed, “IT’S SO FUCKING LOUD. IT’S TOO MUCH” he shouted, over the music. “DO YOU WANNA LEAVE?” “NO, LET’S JUST GO TAKE A RESTROOM BREAK,” he yelled back, grabbing my hand and leading me to one of the bathrooms. 
to be continued…
next part (flashback) drunk and crushing pt.2
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callmelola111 · 5 months
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K.O. ♡ e.w. oneshot
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 ✄ - - - -   inspo track   - - - -   bull believer- wednesday
synopsis: as hours, minutes, and seconds count down till the new year, secrets are revealed and trust is broken. who knew the downfall of your life could be so freeing—and that a total stranger would be the one to catch you.
      | 𓆣 | pairing & wc: ellie williams x reader. wc: 4.8k
      | ❀ | cw: 18+ themes (MDNI), modern au, reader is in a toxic relationship with a man (sexuality isn’t mentioned in huge detail so feel free to hc however you like—they could be bi, pan or just a lesbian with very real comp het), coming out scene (refers to self as “gay”), heavy swearing, descriptions of intense violence + gore, cheating (bf on reader), underage drinking + use of marjuana (18), reader is called a slur (dyke)
a/n: hi hellooo, long time no see! **first, a quick disclaimer: this isn't realistic, there is a complete lack of morals and an unethical/dangerous amount of violence that i wouldn't condone irl. but alas this is fan fiction based off a M rated game whose whole basis is violence, sooo plz keep that in mind when reading.** anywaysss... i’ve been obsessed with this song for months now and it sparked a little oneshot idea so here it is. not exactly my usual stuff, more of a passion project as i process my hatred for men as a lesbian who used to date them. soooo i guess this one goes out to my small town comp het girlies who love ellie williams. thanks for all the support!! ♡~ lola
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In the south it never really felt like a true winter. All the holidays that came along with it never felt real either. Christmas was dull and New Years was even worse. After spending the last 18 years of your life in a small hick town, it felt like no use to wish for some “better future”. You were damned from the start. Sure it was a new year, but it was the same old shit and you knew nothing was gonna change until you got out of this hell hole.
Just 6 more months of pretending, you’d tell yourself. 6 more months of bending over backwards to please your overbearing parents. 6 more months of mediocre sex with your shitty boyfriend that you weren’t even sure you liked. 6 more months of artificial conversations with your estranged friend group from middle school who claim to “not get you” anymore. But at this point, as every little thing ate away at you, you weren’t sure if you could keep up your act for much longer. Especially tonight, where you’d be faced with the challenge of appeasing all 3. 
December 31st, 9:00pm:
Adorned in a matching set of mint green pjs you sat patiently on your bed waiting for the go-ahead. Like clockwork, your parents gave a small knock and pushed open your door from its cracked position. It always annoyed you how they knocked, pretending to respect your privacy while simultaneously enforcing a “no closed doors” rule. You thought at 18 they would’ve let it go, but no. 
“Well hun, me and your mother are heading out now. We don’t expect to be back till the morning… Ya know, just to be safe while taking part in all the ‘festivities’.” Your dad chuckled, throwing up some air quotes. Your mom stood deadpan waiting for him to wrap up his little bit before butting in.
“No plans for the evening, right?” She phrased her words like a question but you knew this was just her way of subtleing enforcing the stupid rules you’ve followed your whole life.
“Of course not momma. Probably just gonna watch Gilmore Girls reruns and then go to sleep before any fireworks start up.” You gestured to your pjs but your perfectly made bed said otherwise. See, you knew this little routine like the back of your hand. You knew just what to do and just what to say in order to lure your parents into a false sense of security. While they stood in the frame of your door wishing you a goodnight, your party clothes hung on the other side of it, just out of their view.
December 31st, 9:30pm:
A loud honking blared from just outside your bedroom window. You ushered the sheer curtains open and glared out at the little sedan sputtering in your driveway. Your hands ran down your face followed by a big sigh. It’s not like you didn’t know your boyfriend Jax was coming to pick you up for the new years party that night, you had planned it just days before. But unbeknownst to him, the only reason you reached out was because you didn’t have a ride and tonight was one of the few times your parents wouldn’t be around to police curfew. 
You climbed into the passenger seat already cringing at the unidentifiable smell and litters of trash covering the floor. Forcing a smile to your face you greet the grimey boy sitting at the wheel with a wave.
“Come onnnn, not even a kiss? You must be real happy to see me, huh?” You grit your teeth, squeeze both eye’s shut, and lean in for a peck to appease his complaints. 
“Of course I’m happy to see you babe.” This was a lie. Something you had become quite good at these past few years, even lying to yourself at times. The rest of the car ride was silent, leaving you to ponder this drudgery of a relationship. You weren’t quite sure when things shifted or if there was ever an attraction at all, but after a year together and college approaching you just decided to ride it out until the inevitable. And part of you recognized the same in him, so there was never any guilt about it. 
December 31st, 9:45pm:
Alcohol was the first thing on your mind as soon as the car went into park. The door to the house was propped wide open, inviting in teens of the small town. Some top 10 hit boomed from a speaker nested in the main living area, not really your style—at least not sober. You scavenged the kitchen for a clean solo cup to designate as your own and began the journey to drunkenness. Jax followed in suit with a couple bottles of beer. The harsh burn in your throat lingered but the alcohol's effect was already beginning to take off the edge that was your life.
You attempted to initiate some conversation with the man who had brought you here but he was too busy texting to listen. So consumed with the glow of his screen, you couldn’t help but peek to see what was so interesting. As soon as you got a glimpse you wished you had been less nosey. His attention was not being stolen by a dumb Instagram reels, but actually, a long string of texts with a girl whose name you didn’t recognize. Your stomach pinged at his possible infidelity. Partly because he was your boyfriend but mostly because you’d spent months convincing yourself to like him, to stay with him, to be a good girlfriend—and he could care less. All this work and effort on your part was simply discarded with his unloyal behavior. It was all for nothing. But hey, maybe you were just drawing conclusions. It could just be a friend. Right?
December 31st, 10:15pm:
Jax had finally shifted his attention back to you before his screen lit up again causing you to retaliate in irritation. You swiped up the cracked device before he had the chance and began to scroll.
“Can’t you just silence it? What is soooo fucking importan-.” Your voice caught at the sight of flirty messages littering the screen.
“Are-are you fucking cheating on me?” You instantly questioned.
“Bro no! Give me my fucking phone back!”
“Who the fuck are you texting then? ‘Mary Jane’,” you spouted in a mocking tone, “no way is that someone's real name. You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“It’s a joke between me and my cousin. Now would you chill?”
“Your cousin?? You call your cousin baby?? I mean, I knew this town was full of hicks but I didn’t know y’all were those kinds of hicks.” The alcohol was giving you a little too much courage as your taunting waded into dangerous territory.
“The fuck did you just say? Don’t fucking test me! Can’t even handle a couple shots without getting all crazy on me!!”
“Crazy?? I’m being fucking reasonable. Literally any other person would be bothered by this just as much as me.”
“You know what, just fuck off. We can talk when you stop being such a delusional bitch.” He then disappeared into the living room, landing onto the couch, leaving you alone with your anger. 
December 31st, 10:30pm:
You stood idle, bubbling over with emotion, eye’s filling with tears when a wet sensation hit your upper lip. Its flow grew stronger and began to trickle onto your hands where your gaze was locked. Deep red stained your palms- a random nosebleed. It was like a sign from the universe. A sign that you weren’t crazy. In fact, you might be one of the only sane people in this whole damn town. Stuck in your reverie, blood continued to drip on your hands, your shirt, your lips- everywhere. That is until a kind eyed girl slipped you a dish towel to stop the flow. 
“Uh hey, your nose is bleeding.” You snapped your head up finally acknowledging the moment in full.
“Shit thanks, sorry…” Your face went hot realizing how long you had been just standing still, letting the blood fall where it may. The heat doubled, spreading to your ears when you finally acknowledged the person who had witnessed the whole thing. Ellie Williams. You had never formally met but knew of her existence, as she had kind of a reputation around school. There wasn’t anything inherently bad about her (at least in your opinion), she just didn’t fit the mold of most residents in your town. Therefore, she was a target for people's prejudices, especially being the only out lesbian in your senior class. Despite everyone else’s thoughts, you really admired her. You wished you had that type of courage.
“It’s no problem…” the auburn haired girl glanced down deciding what to say next before lifting her gaze back up to you. “Not to be nosey, I know you don’t really know me, but like… are you okay?”
Head tilted back, you gave a nasally reply, “Oh me? Yeah, yeah uh- I’m okay” 
“No offense but uh, you don’t look that okay.” she gestured to your bloody everything.
“Alright so I’m not okay, you got me.” You looked down to your now crimson stained blouse and scrubbed frantically at the chiffon material trying to reprimand the damage.
“Here, here– You can just take my flannel to cover it up, I promise I don’t mind.”
“Are you sure?” Before you could say anything else, Ellie was sliding the warm garment over your shoulders and guiding you into the arm holes. It was dark blue, in a faded plaid pattern, and smelled of pine and incense. The girl was now left barren in just her white tank– and all for you.
“Yeah of course.” She then took it a step further, buttoning you up. You watched as her dexterous fingers worked up from the bottom of the shirt to the top, brushing you at each maneuver. A little jab into the plush right under your naval, a swipe past your ribs, and a tap at your collarbones. The quick, unexpected interaction left you completely flustered and you weren’t quite sure why.
“Thank you.” was all you could say. 
“Sooo… do you wanna talk about it?” At this point, Ellie was completely enamored with you from the way you handled yourself with Jax. She had this unusual feeling, a feeling like she needed to protect you. A feeling that you were different from most. Maybe you were even a little like her?
“Honestly, yeah. My friend Samara was supposed to be here tonight but I guess she decided not to show, and I’m starting to wish I didn’t either.”
“Well, if it’s worth anything, I’m glad you’re here. Come on now, follow me.” Ellie led the way to a set of stairs at the edge of the living room. You snaked right past the couch where Jax was drunkenly passed out, mumbling obscenities at his phone. Of course, he paid no mind to you. The idiot was too consumed with himself to even wonder if you were okay.
December 31st, 11:00pm:
You and the sweet girl sat on the rough carpeted step talking about everything under the sun. Ellie was the first person in a really long time who you felt you could be honest with.
“So you think he’s cheating on you?” she questions trying to clarify the few bits of dialogue she heard while watching from afar.
“I know he is. I’m not stupid.”
“I’m sure you’re not.” Ellie put her head down staring at the laces of her dirty converse. You felt so unreadable, making her unsure of how to proceed in the conversation. “So00, how do you feel about it all then?”
“I don’t know, I guess angry.” you answered with a remarkably solemn tone. 
“What about… sad?”
Like second nature, you instantly thought of a less than honest answer until Ellie’s attentive green eyes brought you back to Earth. 
“It feels like… I’m supposed to be sad, but I can’t. In a twisted, confusing way, I’m honestly kinda relieved. So fucking pissed, but relieved.” Ellie’s lids widened, this was an answer she wasn’t expecting at all–but one she was glad to hear.  
“I can’t blame you, he does kinda seem like a piece of shit.”
“And his dick is small too.” you quipped, making Ellie chuckle under her breath.
“Maybe I’m reading into things, but… it seems like you never really liked this guy in the first place.” 
You took a guilty pause before confirming, “Maybe…”
“So why haven’t you broken up with him?” Ellie was genuinely curious. She thought if it was her in the situation she definitely would’ve gotten rid of that Jax guy long, long ago. Who would wanna keep around a douche bag like that?
“Being with Jax felt convenient. He felt like my ticket to ‘normalcy’.” You put your head down in slight shame but continued the explanation. “I got so caught up in my image that I neglected how I actually felt. I was doing everything to please everyone but me.”  Ellie scooted in one inch to the left, now connecting your thighs and bringing in a sense of comfort.
“Trust me, I understand. This town is fucking ruthless.”
“God yeah, the things I’ve heard people say about you are seriously fucked up. I don’t know how you do it.” A beat of silence lingered as Ellie articulated her thoughts.
“I think… community. I mean, obviously most of the people at our school look down on me, but all it takes is one singular person to be right there with you and then things don’t feel so bad. I guess for me, I can’t imagine being anything but myself. Like completely myself.” The girl looked up from the hangnail she was picking at as she spoke and was met with your tear filled eyes. “Fuck, did I say something?”
Your hand shot up to quickly wipe away the floodgates threatening to fall, “No, no. It’s just that you’re right,” you stuttered, choking down another cry, “an-and, I wish I would've realized it sooner because these past 4 years have been like hell. I don’t wanna be the cookie cutter straight girl anymore. I just wanna be me.”
Ellie then placed a gentle hand to your knee and brought her eyes to meet your own, “And what might that be?”
“Gay. Like really fucking gay.” you said through teary-eyed laughs as Ellie joined in with her own hearty chuckle.
“Welcome to the club.” she said, sticking out a strong hand for you to shake. You grasped it tightly as her warm palm guided you up and down, her touch lingering just a little longer than the gesture itself. As you collected yourself you whipped out a small pocket mirror to touch up the smudged mascara littering your undereyes. Ellie admired in silence. She was in pure awe of your resilience, and when you were finished with your clean up, you turned back to realize what had just gone down.
“Fuck, I’m sorry for dumping all that on you considering we just met. It’s weird how things I’ve never even said out loud before can come out so easily around a stranger.”
Ellie nudges you with her shoulder, “I guess I just have that effect, huh?”
“I guess you do.” you sighed, nudging her back.
December 31st, 11:15pm:
The two of you continued your banter until a cold breeze from the back door gave Ellie a brilliant idea.
“Dare I say… you look like you need a blunt?” she said with a mischievous smirk.
“No, please. It's exactly what I need.”
Ellie then reached into the pocket of her baggy jeans, “I guess it’s your lucky day then.” she said, revealing the most perfectly wrapped blunt you’d ever seen.
“You’re actually god sent Ellie. How are we just now meeting?” The auburn-haired girl gave a small laugh before grabbing your hand and leading you to the backyard. As she pushed the white panel door open, every single ounce of weight that had been lifted off from that one singular conversation, all came crashing back down. Ellie and you weren’t the only ones who adventured outside into the brisk night air. Right on the porch stood Jax, accompanied by your “friend” Samara, who up until this point you didn’t even think was coming. The piece of shit was practically sucking her face off before the creaking sound of the back door sent them 5 feet apart.
“I knew it! I fucking knew it!” you yelled, eyes growing dark with rage. Ellie just stood and watched from the corner.
“Babe, please! I swear it’s not what you think!” Jax stumbled forward, attempting to grasp at your figure.
“Don’t you dare try and touch me! You don’t even deserve to look at me. It’s over Jax. I’m done being suffocated by your never ending bullshit!” Knuckles clenched, you continued your lashings, this time at Samara. “I-I thought we were friends. What happened to that?”
“You don’t even like him. You should be thanking me.” she spat. 
“You really don’t get it, huh? This has nothing to do with me liking Jax or not, you completely betrayed our friendship the second you started fucking him behind my back. Friends don’t fuck each other boyfriends Samara!” Before she could even respond Jax was dragging her away, flipping you off on the way inside.
“Ellie-” you squeaked, trembling in shock. 
“Come here, it’s okay love.” she whispered, parting her arms to make a safe space just for you. You collapsed into the warm cavity and relinquished the buckets of tears you had been saving for the moment someone actually gave a fuck. And Ellie did. She never let go of you even for a second as you crumbled under her.
“Jeez I’m sorry.” you said after minutes of pure silence, lifting your head to meet Ellie’s green eyes. 
“For what?”
“For being a drunk mess, crying to you about a man, and also, I think I got a little snot on your shirt.” you tried to laugh it off but you really just wanted to disappear.
Taking your face in her palms Ellie reassured you, “hey, hey no need to be sorry pretty girl. You’ve been through a lot tonight. Besides, I think I look kinda good with this huge ass wet spot in the middle of my tank top. What do you think?” You stepped back and took a look at the damage, and honestly, she was kinda right. With the white cotton material you could see right through to her toned stomach, barely missing the bottom of her breasts. 
“Fine, yes. I’m sure there’s plenty of girls who’d kill to see you in a wet shirt Ellie.”
“Lucky you then.” she said, playfully nudging your shoulder.
You couldn’t help it as the corners of your mouth turned upwards, “Yeah, I guess so.”
“There’s that smile. Soooo… blunt now?”
“Yes. Blunt.”
December 31st, 11:30pm:
And just like that, you were halfway through the chestnut wand of herbs and deep in conversation.  
“So you really haven't seen But I’m a Cheerleader?” Ellie asked, blowing out a puff of smoke with the question and passing it on.
You took the blunt from between her fingers and let it rest between your own, “No. Should I have?” 
“Definitely dude, it’s like queer classic.”
“Oh yeah?” You cocked your head at the freckled faced girl. 
“Yeah. And now that I’m thinking about it, you’re honestly just like the main character.”
“How so?” you asked, taking another long draw. 
“She’s in denial about being gay for like the first 30 minutes of the movie.”
A string of coughs unleashed from your chest as you let out a hefty laugh mid-inhale, “Bitch-”
“What? I’m being so deadass!”
“Fine, what character are you then?” you pry, passing the lit blunt back over to Ellie.
Taking a hit she replies, “I guess I’d be graham.”
“And what does she do?”
“I’m kinda like your awakening in a sense. Graham is all gay and cool, and of course Megan—that's you—totally falls for her.” 
You retrieve the lit cannabis and roll your eyes, “I haven’t fallen for you yet Williams.”
“Yet.” she emphasizes, placing a soft finger to the tip of your nose tauntingly.
“Ha. Ha.” you monotonously mock, “Now here, I think it’s done.” You hand Ellie the roach and she promptly stubs it out into the concrete slab deck.
“Come on, let’s go inside. I’m fucking cold.” she pleas.
“Dude I’m scared. Like I am way too fucked up for this.”
“No, no– I promise you’re fine. I’ll protect you.” 
“Fineee.” you drag out.
December 31st, 11:50pm:
Things were seemingly fine as you and Ellie entered the muggy living area of the packed house once more. Your hesitancy was quite clear though and Ellie could sense you needed just a little reassurance. Your right hand, currently picking away at the hangnail on the thumb of your left, was quickly captured by Ellies own rough hand which led you back to your comfortable spot on the ascending stair set.
As you both took a seat your grip remained tight on the girl, afraid that if you let go you might jump up from your spot right then and there just to give Jax one more lesson. Just the sight of him through the slats of the stairs’ wooden railing—legs casually spread wide and eyes focused in on a casual game of Mortal Kombat—drove you fucking crazy. 
“Dude if you keep staring like that you might actually burn a hole through his dumb ass T-shirt.” Ellie said, nudging your tensed shoulder.
“Good it’s ugly anyways.”
“Fair point.”
“I just have this burning need to get back at him. I wanna beat his ass just like in that game he can’t take his eyes off.”
Ellie rolled her eyes, “Very funny, but you wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“Oh yeah?” you questioned before laying a soft punch to the girl's forearm. A string of dramatic “Ows” reverberated from her lips. “See, I’m a badass right?”
“Fine you’re a total badass” she agreed begrudgingly, rubbing the soft tissue of her arm where you had left your mark. 
“What? It hurt that bad? You need me to kiss it better?” you taunted. 
“Maybe I do.” she said, longing eyes staring into your own. 
You gulped down any hesitation and felt it drop straight to your nervous stomach, “Where does it hurt?”
Ellie pointed to her arm slowly, “here.”
You placed a soft peck.
Hot breath raising goosebumps to the surface of her skin, “and here”, she gestured to her outstretched neck
Another supple kiss.
“And um-” she continued, but was quickly cut off and brought back to reality with the bellowing sound of a countdown. Too caught up in the moment, you both had almost forgotten about the holiday currently taking place.
FIVE… FOUR… THREE… TWO…
“Can I kiss you?” she blurted frantically, and with no words you dove into her plump, chapped lips. Just like a puzzle piece your bottom lip slotted perfectly between her own. It was a gentle and delicate kiss at first, drinking in the euphoric moment. Quickly though, soft maneuvers of the mouth got quicker and harder. Spit was exchanged with passion and need, as your hands were becoming grabby at the girl's toned figure. The heat growing between your legs was an easy distraction from the fact that you were at a large party, in a hick town, with your ex-boyfriend now hovering over your more than friendly exchange.
January 1st, 12:01am:
“The fuck? You’re a dyke now?” he yells, practically loud enough for the whole party to hear. You and Ellie frantically pull apart, bumping heads in the process.
The calloused hands that were once caressing the small of your back are now balled into tight fists as Ellie rises from her seated position.
“The fuck did you just say?” she questions, tilting her head to the right.
You now stand up with her, worried where this might go, “Jax you need to walk away.”
“Oh shut up slut. You’re so fucking desperate you’d do it with anyone!” 
That one hurt. That was the tipping point. Tears welled in your eyes. 
“I’M NOT A FUCKING SLUT! I’M GAY AND NEVER LIKED YOU IN THE FIRST PLACE!”
“You need to leave now before I do something I’ll regret, you dirty bitch.” he threatens. And that's it, Ellie takes a swing aiming straight for his nose. Her fist retracts and reveals his bloody and now crooked cartilage. Through clenched teeth Jax grips onto Ellies white tank, throwing her into the open space of the living room. Just like a car crash, it’s one of those things where a scene can be so disturbing but you just can’t look away. And everyone else in the room was feeling it too—backed into corners, hands over mouths, some men even obnoxiously chanting “fight, fight.” But this isn’t what you wanted. Not at all.
“STOP! YOU NEED TO FUCKING STOP IT!” you screamed desperately. You didn’t even want to imagine what Jax would do to the freckled girl who changed your life in mere hours. But you didn’t have to, because here they were, brawling it out for the whole school. Jax swung at Ellie’s head to which she ducked before jabbing him in the stomach, stealing whatever air was swimming in his lungs. He stumbled backwards 3 steps, coughing through the hit, but this just made him angrier.
He charged back at the flustered girl with more force and gained a grip on a wad of choppy auburn hair. With a forceful yank she came tumbling to the ground with him on top. Ellie wriggled, pushed, and kicked but the sheer weight of the furious man was enough to keep her pinned. Jax began punching left and right, capturing her face with each blow. Thick crimson decorated his knuckles and the entirety of the girl's face. You could barely make out her litter of freckles and the half-lidded slits of emerald green—it was blood, all blood.
But as Jax kept on going, and the room grew quieter, this fight turned into something much more serious. It was inching on life or death and you had to do something. You surveyed the room, eyes dancing from counter to counter until a large glass beer bottle nagged at the tips of your fingers. Grabbing it tightly in your fist, you did what you had to to end this. Glass and gasps scattered through the room. The sharp brown shards littered the floor and evoked a gushing red stream from the back of Jax’s head. He instantly rolled to the side leaving Ellie an opening to escape. You weren’t done yet though, he hadn’t gotten what he deserved yet. Falling to the floor right at his body, hot tears streamed down your face.
Through curses and screams you thrashed at the man's barely conscious frame, “FUCK YOU JAX! FUCK YOU!” This was for every time he made you feel stupid, for making you feel like the ugliest girl in the room, for all the times he kissed you while you just prayed for it to be over, for making your life a living hell. With each scratch, punch, and kick all the pent up anger and resentment drained from your soul. Ellie let you have at him for a bit but as the crowd started to thin she knew the cops would be here any second now.
“Come on! We gotta go hun!” she nagged. 
“NO I CAN’T! NOT YET” you yelled, collapsing down into tears. Ellie promptly scooped you up by your armpits and dragged you from Jax’s limp body.
“I know baby, you're angry, it’s hard. But the cops are coming and we need to leave now.” she said, picking you up completely and carrying you through the frame of the propped open front door. You nestled your head into her bloody top as your chest still rapidly rose up and down, choking on the last few streams of tears and snot. “I’m gonna get you home love, don’t you worry.”
January 1st, 12:15am:
Finally through the small window of Ellie’s red truck you spot your familiar 2 story home. She grips the steering wheel, whipping to the right into the empty driveway. Of course she helps you inside and up to your quaint little bedroom. It felt weird almost—so quiet and still after such a chaotic night—and void of any life but you and the freckled faced girl. It was a cold feeling knowing you’d be all alone in just a few minutes, and tonight, you weren’t sure if that was a feeling you wanted to know.
“Els?”
“Yeah?” she answered softly. 
“Can you stay?”
With a kiss to the head she agreed, “Of course I’ll stay.” The rest of the night was spent cuddled up under your warm comforter, and despite all the events from just hours before, you felt safe. And for once, in fucking years, you were content.
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✄ - - - -   masterlist   - - - -   ♡
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taglist...
@endureher @gold-dustwomxn @alexpritch @4rt3m1ss @robinismywifee @sophlovesbooks @97cityy
(taglist is for all callmelola111 works, if you'd like to be removed just kindly lmk)
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holdmytesseract · 1 year
Note
hello!! i saw you were looking for steamy stuff with daryl and was thinking about leaving him some steamy pictures with a polaroid, maybe they slip it to him at the worst time and he gets flustered and embarrasses himself or stick with steamy and he decides he wants to take his own pictures of them 😏
anyway, i hope you have a lovely day/evening 🥰
Sinful Distraction
Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader
Summary: You decide to leave a little surprise for Daryl. A little sinful distraction while he's away.
Warnings: umm... mentions of naughty photos? tiny bit spicy, fluff?
Set in Season 9!
Word Count: 1,2k
a/n: Thanks for the request, nonny! 😁 I loved it, hehe. Hopefully you like what I wrote! 🧡
Tagging: @km-ffluv @stitchintimefan @sweetpeapod @loz-3 @peaches1958 @fictive-sl0th @lou12346789 @bookofsecretjourneys @azanoni @fuseburner @hotgirlsshareaccounts @in-this-minute
Masterlist
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A cheeky smile danced across your lips as you put the Polaroid you coincidentally found on the last run back in its hiding place, before you sat down on the bed and admired the pictures you just took. You bit your lip. They were perfect - and hopefully able to distract Daryl just a tiny bit.
Your man was going out for a few days, probably a week, helping Rick out, of course, to build the bridge, and you decided to not let him leave without a little... surprise. A gift, rather. He just had to find it. You'd hide the pictures in the back pocket of his baggy jeans, hoping that he'd need the red rug he always carried with him in that pocket. A perfect plan, wasn't it? You bit your lip, smirking; proud that you had this idea.
"Y/N?" Daryl's voice echoed down the stairs towards the basement you and Daryl called home. Hastily, you hid the pictures in your pocket, thinking he was coming downstairs. "I'm here! Yeah?!" He wasn't. "We are goin' in a bit! Thought ya might wanna come up and say goodbye?!" "You can bet your butt on this! I'm coming, baby!" You heard Daryl snort out a laugh. "Thought ya need my butt?! Ain't got nothin' to hold on when it's gone!" You couldn't prevent a rather loud giggle leaving your lips. You loved when Daryl once in a while got all humorous and sassy. He had such a dry sense of humour - and you loved it. "Well... Point for you, hon!" "I'll be outside!" You could hear the amusement in his voice. He was definitely smiling. You took a last look at the pictures, before you hid them again and quickly made your way up the stairs and out of the house. Daryl sat on the stairs on the porch, clearly waiting for you. As soon as he heard the door close shut, the archer stood up and turned around, facing you. "Ready?" He asked. You knew exactly what he meant. He asked it every time, just like you gave him the same answer - every time. "I'll never be ready to be separated from you." Daryl bit the inside of his lip - a habit you loved so much. "I know. 'M sorry. I hate leavin' ya, 's just..." "You have to, I know." You nodded, smiling and stepped with him down the stairs. When you and him hit solid ground again, you immediately reached for him; took his big hands into yours. "It's okay. It's who you are and what you do. I-I mean, I would've accompanied you, but Michonne needs me here a-and..." Now Daryl was the one who nodded, giving you a soft smile. "She does," he said. "Alexandria does." You smiled at him as well, touched by the utter sweetness of this man.
Daryl squeezed your intertwined hand and looked from side to side, checking his surroundings and making sure nobody was looking, before he dipped his head in order to give you a sweet kiss. Showing affection in public was still something he had to get used to, but you didn't complain, gave him all the time he needed. You leaned in the kiss, of course, trying to make it last as long as possible; even letting go of his hands, in order to wrap them around his neck. You were successful, keeping the archer's lips locked onto yours for a little while longer, before he withdrew, blushing ever so softly. He is so cute, you thought, suppressing an upcoming giggle. Then you suddenly remembered the pictures, which were still in the pocket of your jeans. That had to change, of course. So, you scanned the street again, pulling Daryl in another kiss and catching him quite a bit by surprise. Now that he was distracted by your lips on his, you reached for the pictures in your pocket, wrapping your arms around your man's broad torso, lowered your palms on his ass and finally managed to slip the cargo in his back pocket.
Daryl jumped at your sudden bold, intimate move and ended the kiss, looking at you with slightly widened eyes and an even darker shape of red on his cheeks. "What ya doin', woman?!" You giggled, remembering the conversation you had earlier with him. "Makin' sure it's still there. Testin' if I can still hold onto it, ya know." You said and winked, causing him to playfully roll his eyes.
After saying once again thoroughly goodbye to Daryl and the others who accompanied him, you retreated back to the little basement apartment you shared with the archer; hoping that your mischievous, cheeky plan was going to be successful.
After travelling to the bridge, alongside Aaron, Rick and Carol, Daryl went immediately to work. After all, the bridge didn't build itself. The archer didn't quite like to work with the Saviors. Former enemies, now turned allies, but he didn't have a choice, did he? They needed every help they could get. It was a big task and couldn't be done just by Alexandrians. Working in the heat of the summer wasn't exactly great as well, but that was also a thing which couldn't be changed.
It took Daryl almost two days to find the surprise you had hid for him but eventually, he found it...
"Daryl?" The archer lifted his head, looking up to face Aaron, who stood a few meters away from him. "Yeah?" "Have you got a rug or something with you?" Daryl nodded, sat back on his heels and reached for the familiar red rug in the back pocket of his jeans - only to find something what definitely didn't feel like his rug. His rug was there, too, but also something else. He frowned, but took the rug first, throwing it towards Aaron. "Thanks!" Daryl gave his friend a nod, before standing up and reaching for the other items in his pocket - which he had identified as Polaroid pictures, but the man didn't have a single clue what were on them, of course. When his gaze landed on the three pictures, his heart almost stopped beating for a second, eyes widening. He expected a lot - but not seeing you on them half naked, or well... very scarcely dressed. Goddamnit, woman, he thought, feeling his cheeks literally burn with how hard he was blushing. If he'd have found them in his tent, back at the camp, it wouldn't have been a problem, but out here? In 'public'? With all the men around him? No, he couldn't help himself but go as red as a beetroot. Nevertheless, he also couldn't help himself, but to skip through the pictures. The temptation was just too big. Just because he was slightly embarrassed, didn't mean that he didn't like what he saw... Quite the opposite. Daryl rather had to fight against the upcoming issue in his pants... On the backside of the last picture was something written on it, like he noticed. 'Thought you might need a bit distraction some time... ;)' Naughty girl, the archer thought, shaking his head. "Jus' ya wait 'til I get home..." He muttered under his breath. Revenge was sweet, after all, wasn't it?
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shslbunnylover · 4 months
Text
★★★𝘼𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙠𝙮 𝙛𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙨 (12 𝙙𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙁𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛𝙢𝙖𝙨 𝘿𝙖𝙮 9: 𝘿𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙣𝙤𝙬)★★★
Character: Larissa Weems
Taglist: @inlovewithgreta @lilfartbox1 (Message me to be a part of the taglist until I get a page set up!!)
Trigger warnings (DL, DI): N/a
Genre: Fluff
A/n: 3/4 of the way there! Time always flies, doesn't it?
Word count: 1.3k
...
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...
"Sweetheart, it's time to get up," Larissa tickled your sides softly, waking you up to thousands of snowflakes falling from the sky out the window. "It's snowing outside and I've made hot cocoa,"
"Wait it's snowing??" You quickly sat up, swinging your legs off the side of the bed to go look closer at the beautiful sight outside. "Larissa, look!" You beamed, placing your hand up against the cold window, leaving a slight print in its wake.
"I noticed that," Larissa chuckled, walking swiftly to stand next to you as you looked on with childlike wonder, secretly adoring your endearing nature.
"Ohhh I have an idea! We should wear those matching sweaters and go outside! There's enough of the stuff to make footprints!" You explained your idea, sharply and excitedly turning your head to look at your wife lovingly.
"I love that, that sounds delightful," The platinum blonde placed her hand over her other, holding her hands in front of her chest in the regal manner she always held.
"I'll go get them!" You beamed, running over to your closet and pulling out your matching Christmas sweaters, tossing the larger one to Larissa whilst you quickly got changed.
Larissa simply laughed as she caught the sweater, putting it over her tank top and slipping on a pair of leggings after removing her shorts.
After a couple of minutes of you two changing your clothes, you both walked into the kitchen to get the hot chocolates that Larissa had made.
"This is so good 'Rissa!" You smiled as the warmth of the cocoa filled your body, smacking your lips when you had finished your swig.
"I made it just how you like it, I'm glad it was up to your standards," Larissa looked at you, nodding softly in your direction.
"Anything you make is up to my standards, you know that," You laughed, taking another sip and relishing in the warmth that the drink brought you.
Larissa smiled, drinking out of her glass before placing it on the counter and looking at you.
"Hm, I must thank you, sweetheart," She said, taking a marshmallow in between her nimble fingers and placing the soft confection in her mouth, making sure to swallow before continuing to speak. "You've allowed me to take a break from my work, and that's helped me more than you'll know,"
"It's no problem 'Rissa, I wanted to make sure your Christmas was as good as possible, that can't happen when you have a bunch of work that you're forcing yourself to do," You replied sincerely, your eyes never moving from your hot chocolate.
Larissa smiled, glancing out the window to observe the snow before changing her vision to look at you.
"The snow has piled up, and I've checked the weather. It's not going to stop until tonight. Would you like to go outside now, sweetling?" The older woman asked, holding her gloved hand out for you to take.
You nodded excitedly, wrapping your hand around your wife's and using your other hand to open the door, shivering slightly at the cold blasted in your faces.
"Chilly," You giggled, stepping into the snow, watching with excitement as you and Larissa left a trail of footprints the further you walked into the white blanket that magically covered the yard.
"That it is, but I think the cold is beautiful," The platinum blonde spoke, her British accent as alluring to you as sugar is to a fly.
You remained silent, preferring to gaze up at your wife with an adoring expression, your eyes focusing on every beautiful detail on her.
The small crow's feet that formed at her eyes, the smile lines that formed around her supple red lips, her ice-blue eyes that sparkled at the beauty of the falling snow, her soft and regal hands that caught the snowflakes she admired, and the expression of pure joy on her face felt like something magical to you.
"Sweetling?" She broke you out of your thoughts, "You're staring again," Larissa smirked, bopping you on your nose.
You squeaked, your sudden noise turning into a full-on laugh as you covered your nose with one of your hands.
"You're adorable, you know that darling?" The blue-eyed woman remarked, lowering her hands to hold yours.
You chuckled.
"Well thank you, baby," You replied, squeezing her hands softly before pulling them away.
You ran over to a nearby tree, making a tiny snowman out of the piles of snow around the plant. You shivered slightly as some of the tiny crystals melted in your palms, leaving them wet and chilly, but not enough to stop you from enjoying the creation you were making.
Larissa walked up behind you, watching each of your movements closely.
'They're such a dear,' The blonde thought, tapping you on the shoulder once you were done building.
You turned around with a curious expression, only to see your wife holding her hand out to you.
"May I have this dance?" She asked with a soft smile.
You nodded eagerly, grabbing her hand to pull yourself up, giggling as she spun you around and held you in her arms.
"Of course, M'lady," You chuckled, your feet moving in synch with hers, the snow falling around you as graceful as your movements.
"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, you know that?" Larissa hummed, spinning you around gently and gently, watching with sharp eyes as she took in all of your features that were highlighted by the snowflakes dusted on top of them.
"You know that you're the best thing that's happened to me, right?" You asked in reply, twirling the taller woman around before dipping, causing her to laugh (and for you to blush).
"I guess we agree then," She laughed, pressing your lips together with a smile.
"I guess we are," You looked at her, twirling yourself into her embrace.
The two of you swayed in the wind, your cheeks reddening each time she placed a kiss on your forehead.
You laid your head back against her chest, feeling her heart against the back of your head.
"I love you, Rissa," You sighed, shutting your eyes.
"I love you too Y/n, more than life itself," Larissa replied, spinning you to face her before kissing your nose.
...
If you enjoyed reading this, don't forget to like, reblog and comment! Thank you and you are loved <3
-Akira
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narcissarina · 1 month
Text
Darkened Desires
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Prologue and Chapter 1: The sun || Chapter 2: The moon || Chapter 3: The moon || Chapter 4: The sun || Chapter 5: The sun || Chapter 6: The moon || Chapter 7: The moon || Chapter 8: The sun || Chapter 9: The sun || Chapter 10: The outsider || Chapter 11: The moon || Chapter 12: The sun || Chapter 13: The sun || Chapter 14: The moon || Chapter 15: The sun
Pairings: Mafia!Scaramouche × Barista!Reader
Word count: 579
Thank you for making it this far!
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EPILOGUE
I got back at working on my usual, had to company and assure my mother that everything’s under control and that I am fine (haven’t recovered from that experience but I’m making progress) my friends scolded me and got worried, I’m actually fine right now since I know a man who would go lengths just to come to my aid and rescue.
The same man who stalked me, kidnap me even then gave me a tour of his own home. Sharing his stories and experiences as I take in that we live in different worlds—yet he choses to be with me. Opposite attracts, right?
He lives in the dark, and I’m in the light.
Like how the moon loves the sun, that’s why every once in a while there’s an eclipse.
Funny how he was the obsessed one, I won’t be lying that he isn’t good in bed.
It’s been a few months, I still go to therapy because Scara refuse to stop paying for my sessions, he still believes that I still need it. “what do you mean that I don’t have to pay for your therapy?” he said and give me a judgmental look.
I even ask Ajax about it and he said he can’t do anything about it, and that Scara gets snappy when Ajax talk to him on my behalf.
The Tsaritsa has been doing good and her health was improving when I’m around (she thinks I’m her daughter but I really don’t mind) she would give me gifts on many occasions, I still remember she almost bought me a car, since my old one is shit.
The more I know them like friends, the more I forget that they’re wanted criminals. My mind drifting off that they’re old friends when they’re literally a dangerous and powerful mafia.
Behind the café counter, I take orders for my customers and work on the usual routine that I normally had. But this time, something different—after taking the last order, I move my neck as it cracks some of my stiffen muscles.
I go over and clean the counter top, then made a bitter black coffee, just how he likes it.
Ding—
The sound of the bell of the door opening. I greet that customer with a smile and present him his usual.
“Welcome, here’s your usual.” I greet and hand him his bitter black coffee, “did you make sure you made it with extra love?” Scara teases, as his hand brushes over mine as he takes his coffee from my hand.
I could only chuckle at his remark, he leans in the counter—coffee in hand as he took my hand with his free one, “date at three?” he kissed my knuckles, I roll my eyes and nodded.
He smirks and got to his table to drink his coffee and wait for my shift to end.
My friend pops out of nowhere and gave me a scare, “jesus!” I yelp, she cock a brow and look at me up and down, “y’all better behave.” I chuckle at her and wink.
I watch the man who sat beside the door, drinking his coffee and reading—the same man who has dangerous connections, who is morally grey. The same man who saved me, obsessed with me.
I smile, knowing that my safety will be in his hands.
Assured that he’ll give me the future that he and I vision.
The same man I didn’t knew I fell in love with.
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A/n: Hello! This series has finally comee to an end, thank you for reading and for sticking around 😭😭🙏 I appreciate you reading my works, comments were really appreciated and motivates me to write more stories!
Started writing this at March 1, 2024
Finished writing this day, March 22, 2024.
Thank you for sticking with me!
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hesbuckcompton-baby · 2 months
Text
I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 4
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Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 |-| Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11
AO3
Summary: Frankie and Rosie grow closer in the aftermath of another tough mission
Warnings: Language
Word Count: 3.8k
Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles @love-studying58
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Rosie sat in the cockpit waiting for the order to depart, practically twiddling his thumbs as every minute that passed spurred his anxiety for his team's first mission. He had never been a nervous flyer - quite the opposite, it was the reason he'd been given command in the first place - but the seemingly endless wait left him growing irritable, the headset that covered his ears reflecting the relentless thump of his heartbeat right back at him.
The smell inside the bombers was a constant, permeating combination of sweat and smoke, a smell he could never quite get used to, no matter how much time he spent sitting in it. Pappy was in the seat beside him, using the cuff of his sleeve to wipe a wark off of his goggles that Rosie was fairly certain was a scratch, and no amount of scrubbing would make it yield.
His attention was caught by the sound of yelling outside, the exact words muffled by the glass barrier that existed between the pilots and the outside world. Looking out, Rosie spied Frankie and Lemmons, calling to each other as they approached from either side of the runway. They were each holding empty fuel cans in both hands, and clinked them together like glasses in greeting as they met in the middle. Frankie passed her weight from foot to foot, swaying slightly on her hips as if to a song only she could hear - she must have been hours into her work, and it seemed that on mornings this hectic once she had begun moving she didn't stop.
A huff of laughter escaped him, which drew Pappy's gaze away from his goggles, leaning forward in his seat to peer at the scene outside. The pair of mechanics were in such a hurry that they didn't even bother stopping for the duration of their conversation, still calling to each other over their shoulders as they went their separate ways. As Frankie passed, she noticed Rosie up in the cockpit and offered a wave, her bright, energised grin a far cry from the tired smiles she had offered him the first time they'd met. Sweat beading on her brow in the morning sun, she was practically glowing.
Rosie raised his hand to reciprocate with a shy wave of his own, watching his co-pilot in his peripherals as Pappy craned further forward still to watch her disappear from view around the side of their plane.
"D'ya think her and Egan are a thing?" The man asked. Rosie turned pointedly to look at him, raised brow tilting the rim of his hat.
"A thing?"
"Yeah. Yunno. Together, n' all. Nash told me some of the fellas have been takin' bets, apparently they sang a duet at one of them shindigs a while back."
"You fellas talkin' about the mechanic and Major Egan?" Nash's voice piped up, his head suddenly appearing through the gap between their seats. "Oh yeah, that's definitely happenin'."
Rosie gave Nash a playful shove, forcing him back out of the cockpit. "That is not happening, I promise. Have you even met her?"
Pappy raised a brow. "Have you?"
He paused for a long moment. "... Once. But it was enough to know that is not what's going on there."
"If you say so," His co-pilot shrugged, far from wholly convinced, returning to attempting to clean the mark from his goggles.
"It's a scratch, Pappy, you can't wipe it off."
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Frankie had been running inventory when the planes began to roll back in, tallying up what they had and in what quantities, writing up a list of things they needed to pass on to the higher ups. She stuck her head out of the hut, clinging to the doorframe as she counted the forts passing overhead, the list of supplies becoming crumpled as she shoved it into her pocket, rushing for the hardstand.
"Thirteen," She muttered, calling the number again as she spotted Lemmons. "Thirteen?"
"I counted the same," He confirmed, the colour drained from his face as they tossed their tools into the back of one of the jeeps. Climbing into the passenger seat, Frankie reached over and pressed the back of her palm against Ken's forehead, the younger mechanic batting her away as he tugged on the handbrake.
"No Cleven?" It didn't take a fool to figure out what had shaken Lemmons so fiercely. She had been in full support of his last-ditch effort to repair Cleven's engine, but it had been a makeshift move at best. If his plane had gone down, mechanical failure was far from out of the question.
"No," Ken shook his head, a slight tremor in his voice. "No Cleven."
How the hell were they going to break it to Bucky?
They'd certainly seen forts return in worse shape than this, although Frankie scarcely dared to imagine what state those that hadn't returned had ended up in. The mental image she had created of Curtis Biddick's final moments replayed in her mind, and it was near impossible to fathom the weight of that fear multiplied by the number of men they had lost. Frankie and Lemmons had split up near the interrogation huts, the creased list of supplies clutched in her grip as she slid out of her seat, promising to catch him up once her business was done.
Crowds of disoriented-looking soldiers made their way towards the Red Cross' hut, hopeful hands open and waiting to receive a cup of coffee or a bite to eat as a meagre reward for their feats. As much as she longed to search for familiar faces in the crowd, Frankie found she had more pressing issues at hand - she didn't quite know who to pass on her list to, let alone where to find them, but the longer the mechanics went without adequate supplies, the more forts would be out of commission when it really counted.
Entering through the side door, her gaze scanned the room, landing on the first man she saw with a high-ranking insignia. Squeezing her way through the exhausted men who filled the place like bewildered sardines, she emerged beside the man, pressing the paper into his hand before he even had a chance to register her arrival. Turning his head to her, he looked almost offended by Frankie's presence.
"Supply orders for the mechanics, pass it up to whoever's in charge," She nodded firmly.
The officer shook his head, spluttering slightly. "I don't have time to deal with your shopping list, we've got-"
"No one ever has time for it, but suddenly it's my bloody fault when half of your planes don't fly because we don't have the fucking rivets - take it."
His mouth hung open, but she didn't bother waiting for him to formulate a response, vanishing as soon as she had appeared. Just as Frankie was about to leave again, she caught sight of Rosie among the returning pilots, a weight suddenly lifted from her shoulders. A smile spreading across her expression, she was about to call out to him, when Helen - one of the Red Cross volunteers she had grown somewhat acquainted with - crossed the room between them, the Captain's gaze following her without ever noticing Frankie, moving to follow out through the side door.
Frankie's jaw snapped shut, and she nodded to herself, continuing to make her way outside. It made sense when she thought about it. Helen was a nice girl - pretty - she was sure she'd seen almost half of the 100th ogling her at some point by now. Everyone needed someone to come back for.
They were talking on the edge of the grass as she left, and Frankie kept her gaze purposely averted, glancing down at her hands, which were already dirty. Helen probably never had filthy hands. She kept walking.
"Frankie!" A familiar voice called with its American lilt, and she turned, brow raised. Rosie was jogging up behind her, exhaustion tugging at his features, sweat-soaked curls sticking up at various angles like a startled bird.
"Hi."
He let out a huff as he caught his breath, mouth open to speak for a few seconds before he was actually able to find the words. "H-... Hi."
"You alright?" She asked slowly, gesturing to Helen, oblivious to the way he was smiling at her, the tiredness in his eyes washed out by pure relief.
Rosie followed her gaze, brow furrowing as he nodded. "Nash didn't make it. Him and Helen they were... they were close."
Suddenly Frankie felt so deeply, horrendously stupid that she was almost nauseous. "Jesus. Oh, I'm sorry, I just- I'm really sorry, Rosie."
He shook his head slightly, and she could almost hear his voice telling her not to apologise again. "He was a good kid. Are you ok?"
"Me? Yeah, yeah, I'm ok - shit, all I do is sit around and wait for the action to be over." As she spoke, Rosie's expression grew more and more concerned, and she could tell exactly what he was thinking.
"... Have they told you about-?"
"Cleven? ...Yeah. Ken's really beating himself up about it, I just don't know how they're gonna tell Bucky."
He frowned, and neither of them spoke for a long moment. Sucking in a deep breath, Rosie reached into his pocket, retrieving a slightly squished Red Cross doughnut that he'd wrapped in a napkin. He held it out to her.
Frankie's eyes widened slightly at the offering. "Oh! Oh, no, it's yours, I couldn't. My hands are dirty anyway."
"Who cares? I smell like I just crawled out of a donkey's ass," Rosie joked, and she let out a chuckle as he tore the doughnut in two, holding out the bigger half to her. She felt her cheeks warming up, and prayed the flush wasn't noticeable as she accepted his offering.
It was.
Rosie hid his smile behind the hand he raised to his mouth as he chewed, savouring the taste of sugar on his tongue as it soothed the hoarseness in his throat. "Hope we haven't left you with too big a mess to clean up," He said, brushing the powdered sugar from his fingertips.
Frankie screwed up her face, shaking her head as she finished chewing. "Nah, I've seen much worse. Glad you're back, s'all. Might actually get to bed at a sane time tonight, wouldn't that be something?" She grinned, and he found himself momentarily sidetracked by the smear of sugar that streaked her lip until she wiped it away, his thoughts once again coherent.
"It sure would be."
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Rosie couldn't sleep. It was almost ten o'clock - barely late enough to class his sudden insomnia as problematic - but he found he simply had nothing else to do. As long as he was awake, the guilt of what happened to Nash, the guilt of simply making it back alive, tugged at him like a deadweight, and he was yet to find a pastime that worked as a sufficient distraction. His hope had been that an early night and a deep sleep would wipe his mind clear, or at least give him a few hours of peace.
But alas, it was not to be. Sitting up on the edge of his mattress, feet pressed against the cool floor, the idea of simply waiting for sleep to come, of drowning in his own thoughts until it did, seemed less and less appealing by the second. He got up, tugging on a jacket and some more socially acceptable trousers, and ducking out into the night air, the cool breeze hitting him as his curls blew back and forth.
It was quiet outside. Usually, on nights like this, you could barely walk ten feet without encountering a drunken airman staggering back from the pub, but it seemed the day's mission had soured everyone's spirits. With his hands in his pockets, Rosie strolled down the middle of the road, glancing at each Nissen hut as he passed, silently taking in his surroundings as a welcome distraction.
As he neared the women's huts, he spied another figure coming the other way, her blue uniform skirt swaying with each step, glowing embers dropping off the end of her cigarette as she tapped the ashes away. He was about to ignore her, when she called out. "Oi!" Brow raised, Rosie met the woman's gaze as she strode towards him, taking a final drag of her cigarette before tossing it into a nearby puddle. "You're Captain Rosenthal, right?"
He spluttered for a moment, taken aback. "Uh, yes ma'am."
The woman held out her hand, a smile parting her lipstick-red lips. "George Aarons. I'm Frankie's best friend, she's told me about you."
Suddenly it made sense. But wait - 'she's told me about you'? "Oh. Yes, hello," Rosie nodded, shaking her hand. "I think she has mentioned you."
George's brow furrowed, smirking. "She'd better have. If you're looking for her, she's still working on the hardstand," She added, beginning to continue her walk back to her hut.
He almost rolled his eyes. Of course she was. "Thank you, goodnight."
They had both begun to go their separate ways when her voice rang out in the darkness again. "Poppies."
Rosie turned, expression contorted in confusion. "Pardon?"
"Poppies," George repeated. "They're her favourite."
The corner of his mouth raised in a smile as he shoved his cold hands back into his pockets, beginning to stray towards the airstrip without even noticing.
He had only just made it to the runway, gaze scanning the dark horizon for any signs of life, when the road up ahead seemed to burst into flames, a roaring wall of red rising from nowhere. Rosie frowned, dashing forward, almost out of breath by the time he arrived, slowing gradually to a halt as he took in the scene before him.
The tarmac was indeed alight, the fire burning bright and high, but there was Frankie, sitting about fifteen metres away from the blaze in one of the rickety chairs from the mechanics' hut, a tartan blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders.
Rosie paused for a moment, taking several breaths to calm his panicked heart before he spoke. "So much for an early night."
She looked up at him, face bathed in the orange glow. She had barely reacted to his arrival, almost as if she'd been expecting him. "This is my last job for the night."
"What, arson?"
Frankie snorted. "No. I'm burning the oil off the runway - it's the best way to get rid of it all, you don't want it all over the place when the planes come in next time, otherwise-" She made a booming sound, imitating an explosion with her hands.
Rosie nodded, gaze cutting sharply between her and the inferno still burning away, the smell of fuel thick in the air. "So this is... this is all good?"
"I'm definitely not about to burn to death, if that's what you're asking."
He realised it was, and it made him feel a little stupid.
"There's more chairs inside," She added, gesturing to the nearby hut. "You can stay if you want."
Rosie's lack of sleep seemed a foregone conclusion by now, so he obliged, heading inside and collecting the chair with the least amount of wobbly legs and bringing it back to where she sat, maintaining a polite gap between them as he sat down.
The burning oil truly did stink, but the longer he sat there, the fire became quite beautiful, really. It was silent for a long time, nothing but the sound of the wind filling the air. Sometimes when it dropped, he could hear her breathing over the whoosh of the flames, but the sudden scraping of chair legs against tarmac tore through the quiet altogether.
"Can see you shivering from over there," She muttered, dragging her chair to close the gap between them, and Rosie realised he was still cold. He had managed to trick himself, to accept the fire's illusion of warmth, but in reality, his jaw had begun to chatter.
Frankie's blanket was huge - folded twice over just so that it wouldn't drag against the ground - and as she stood up he watched her unfurl it, the outline of her body silhouetted by the flames' light. She held out one corner to him, the opposite end firmly in her grip, and as she sat back down the fabric encircled them both, bracketing them together as he was warmed by both the blanket and her shoulder pressed against his.
Her hands remained firmly in her lap, clasped together as she fiddled with the blanket's fraying hem, gaze unmoving as it remained firmly planted on the blaze in front of them. Rosie stared at her face in profile for a moment, unable to suppress his smirk as he leaned back against his seat, just letting the moment be.
"I met George on the way over," He said quietly. Frankie seemed to light up at this, suddenly grinning as she looked up at him.
"You did?!" She beamed, and he couldn't help but laugh.
"Yeah, yeah - she's nice."
"She is the best person in the entire world," Frankie asserted, nodding as if it were a universally acknowledged fact.
Rosie smiled back at her, letting himself lean back against her as she put her weight on his shoulder. "Y'know, I didn't know you could sing."
She scoffed loudly, throwing her head back in a laugh. "Now who the hell told you that?"
"Pappy said you sang with Egan at one of those parties."
Frankie wagged her finger as she spoke, so close to his face that he almost went cross-eyed from watching it. "Just because I did it, doesn't mean it was good."
He chuckled, their foreheads almost touching when he momentarily leant forward. "Alright, point taken."
"If there is one thing I do not have, it's musicality," She grinned. "I just make up for it with my myriad of other talents."
"And I would love to see those someday," Rosie teased, gasping mockingly as she thumped him in the shoulder. Without realising, they had both almost doubled over in their seats, practically cheek-to-cheek as their laughs echoed into the night air. He felt like he was drunk, although it had been days since he'd taken even a sip of alcohol. The stench of oil in the air had begun to subside, and looking up, they both realised the fire had almost wholly burnt itself out.
"Well, shit," Frankie murmured, her breath forming a cloud in front of her face as the temperature seemed to drop instantly, the air turning freezing as the last flame died. She shrugged her corner of the blanket away, rising to her feet, and for a second Rosie felt the urge to reach out and grab her wrist, tug her back down beside him. "Come on," She sighed. "You might have to fly tomorrow, I don't want you exhausted on my account."
He smiled gently at this, letting the blanket drape across his shoulders as he stood, picking up both chairs before she got the chance to take her own. Rolling her eyes, Frankie followed him to the mechanics' hut, keys jangling as she locked the door once everything had been stowed safely inside.
They walked side by side in the dark for a long while, nothing but the occasional barn owl overhead piercing the quiet. A new thought had begun to plague Rosie's mind, and he rolled it around in his head like a marble until he knew it needed to be released.
"Why do you do it?" He asked. She looked at him questioningly. "I mean, all the rest of the ground crew left hours ago, they always do, but you're always here. You must barely sleep, I don't get it."
Frankie frowned for a moment, and then shrugged. "The rest of the ground crew are Americans. It's different for us. Of course, everyone’s got skin in the game these days, but it is different. I mean, before the war I’d never even left Warwickshire, but they destroyed half of Coventry in one night - people walked with their kids and their bags to the closest town ‘cause their homes were just gone. Half the boys I grew up working the garage with are dead now. They joined up and now they’re never coming back... And almost anyone you ask around here has some link to someone who lost a home or died in the bombing raids. That’s why we’ll get up at the crack of dawn and work into the night, ‘cause we’re fighting for our homes.”
Rosie considered this for a while. There was nothing he could say to that. In fact, he felt rather silly for asking in the first place now. He'd joined up because he hated the Nazis - he hated what they stood for and what they believed in, and he wanted them gone. But they couldn't get him, not in his home. They couldn't touch his family. But the same just couldn't be said for people like Frankie. Every job they did, every hour they put in, it was all to maintain that desperate last line of defence, to protect the people they loved.
War was hell. War was fear. But it wasn't that kind of fear, not for Rosie.
He had been so deep in thought that he scarcely noticed when they arrived at the end of Frankie's row of Nissen huts, his footsteps following alongside hers without even thinking about it. Looking up from the ground, his eyes widened as he took in his surroundings for a second, barely a light left on as everyone else tried to sleep off the trying day.
"If I keep walking you to your door like this people are gonna start to talk," Rosie pointed out before he could stop himself.
Frankie shrugged, turning to face him as she began to walk backwards towards her hut, her hand skimming against his arm one last time. "I'd much rather they talk about you than Bucky," She grinned.
The place where her fingers had touched his arm seemed to tingle, and even through his jacket it was as if he could still feel her there, stuck frozen for a moment, mouth hanging open as his mind flailed to come up with anything to say to that. Nothing came to him. As she returned to her hut, he found he could offer nothing but an awkward wave, her giggle echoing in the night air as she waved back, disappearing through the opening in the door.
Rosie just stood there for a moment, passing his weight from foot to foot as he waited for his thoughts to slow down to an intelligible speed. He took a deep breath, puffing out his cheeks as he ran a hand through his hair. He was a pilot, a damn good one - he faced death every day and it never rattled him, not once.
So what the fuck was this.
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luffyvace · 2 months
Note
helooo can i request saiki x reader bf texts please? thank you so much !! anything is fine honestly as long as its saiki content i miss him 😭😭😭😭
ooooou I haven’t got a request like this yet and it seems very fun!! No problem hun <3
IKR after you finish the anime it feels like such limited content is left for the saiki k fandom!! 😭😭
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💓💗 Saiki and his boyfriend~ 💗💓
“Wanna go get some coffee jelly”
“This is oddly specific but can you tell the magician outside to leave please?”
”can you keep aiura and torisuka distracted so I can leave school?”
”thanks I’ll pay you back in (favorite thing)”
”let’s meet at the arcade”
”I’m annoyed my mom is forcing me to go outside but I know I’m gonna run into kaido”
”please come with me to make this more bearable”
”don’t forget to study for that test”
convos :3
”how do I make friends with that average guy from the other class without seeming weird”
”Kusuo idk just go up to him and talk to him 😭”
”yeah but if I don’t have something to talk about it’ll be awkward and my likeability meter will go down”
”can you figure out his interests for me so I can talk to him?”
”what? YOU do it 🤦”
”no i can’t the nuisances will find me”
convo 2 ;P
“Do you wanna come shopping with me?”
”your not gonna invite the nuisances too are you?”
”no kusuo 😭”
”oh okay well no”
“I'm NOT!”
“I know but nuisance number 4 just showed up”
”at your house?”
”no at the mall”
”ohh well fine 🤦”
convo 3
”can I borrow your bike nendo broke mine”
”HOW?”
”idk he sat on it”
”WHAT LOLL”
”I need it so I don’t have to go shopping with my dad”
”why is that so bad?? 😭”
”because he starts begging for things at the store”
”??”
“Isn’t he a grown man?”
”yeah I know that’s why I need to borrow your bike”
”sure babe..😭🤦”
convo 4
”my mom wants you to come over for dinner”
”oh alright!”
”no”
“??”
”say your sick”
”kuu why? 😭😭”
”can’t I come over??”
”no my parents are embarrassing”
”LOL”
”but I’ve come over plenty of times before tho”
”I know but, please just don’t come over”
”what’s happening??”
”fine. My dad wants to play a prank on someone because when he try to scare me it didn’t work. So I need you to come over and pretend to be scared so my mom doesn’t kill me”
”what?? So now I’m supposed to come over?”
”let’s just get it over with”
”you go through so much I swear 😭💗”
convo 5
”when you come over and my mom asks if you wanna meet my brother say no”
”whaaat but I kinda wanna meet him”
”say no”
”for both of our sakes”
”if you don’t go I won’t have to either”
”fine 😒”
convo 6
”goodnight kuu”
”goodnight m/n”
convo 7
“I hear nuisance number 4 isn’t showing up to school today”
”no she isn’t”
”rejoice. God is real.”
”KUSUO 😭😭”
convo 8
“your driving home today right? Can I hitch a ride? Nuisance number 1 is here”
”wait which nuisance is that again?”
”how can you forget? It’s the second most terrible one. Nuisance 1 is nendo”
”OHH YEAHH”
”hurry he’s coming”
”YEAH MEET ME AT THE CAR LOL”
convo 9
”come with me to nuisance number 2’s house so I don’t have to go alone”
”kaido right? he’s not so bad right? I can’t I have homework”
”no he’s just really weird and cringe and awkward”
“I’ll wait”
”okay 😭”
convo 10
“can I come over and we can watch that show you recommended me?”
”yeah sure any time kuu”
”you really don’t have to ask, I could get you a spare key if you want”
”yes an emergency escape route in case of nuisance surprises”
”WOW OK”
”and you ig”
convo 11
”that was sweet. what you did for them”
“Yeah I guess they’re not so bad for now”
”for now Kusuo?”
”you sound like my mom”
”actually, that’s not an insult I love your mom”
”I know”
”WYM 😭”
”you hug her more than I do”
”well that proves smth 🤨🤨”
”eh. I’ll get her a gift”
”good cuz she’s awesome 😙”
convo 12
“let’s finish playing that game you have”
”NO”
”WHY IT WAS SO FUNNY”
”you have never even played it he’s so annoying”
”LOLL YOU DIDNT HAVE TO TELL HIM TO DIE THO”
”you wouldn’t even think it’s funny if I hadn’t have told you”
”come on at least least me see the chapter you said you hated”
”you just wanna see me suffer”
”If I did I wouldn’t have distracted hairo for you earlier”
”FINE”
”LOL YIPPIE I’m coming over as soon as I’m done with my homework 🙂”
”😒”
convo 13
“How do I transfer to class 2”
”you just wanna be with satou don’t you”
”you don’t know how?”
”no kuu, I don’t 🤦”
convo 14
“I have to go visit my grandparents and my granddad is really awkward come with me”
“I’D LOVE TO MEET THEM”
”why do you love my family so much?”
”they’re strange”
”I love YOU 😒”
”are you calling me weird”
”in what way are you normal mister magic powers with weird friends and family who also has to stop a volcano from erupting yearly”
”those are just ordinary daily tasks”
”now your coming right?”
”I should leave you”
”you wish you were normal so bad”
”when are we going”
”on second thought you can stay here”
”STOP BEING SALTY IM COMING”
”NOW TELL ME WHEN”
convo 15
”let’s reschedule the coffee jelly date for Sunday”
”it’s too chaotic”
”it’s Friday”
”I know I’m dreading the weekend”
”my poor kuu 😭”
”stop”
”you sound like my mom again”
*read* 1:39pm
LOL I LOVE CONVO 10-15 😊😈 (it got more chaotic as it went on- 😭)
muahahahahhaha hope you enjoyed! these were quite fun :3
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sucka4pain · 9 months
Note
Yandere 42! Miles Morales feeling grumpy all day at school and getting a little more upset when his girl wouldn't answer his texts. Only to see her surrounded in a circle of students cause she's beating the breaks off another girl who was riling her up talking bout her man.
And miles ain't know she could fight like that‼️and how would miles feel about her extreme jealousy?
I absolutely love this wait a damn minute…
A/n: Finally got out of writers block smh, I’m sorry that this took so long to do cutie pie😞 I also made the reader poc cause I gotta give my poc girlys including myself some love yk? I hope you don’t mind that!!<3
Warnings: Violence, fighting, yandere theme, jealousy, blood, pet names (mamas and mami), and cursing
Continue reading below the cut! Be warned as this contains dark content!!
Miles: hey mami, good morning
7:44 a.m
Miles: why ain’t you answering me?
9:57 a.m
Miles: at least leave me on seen or sum shit so I know you seen it.
11:32 a.m
He closed his phone and groaned as he feels his grumpiness getting to him. “Yo Miles, you good?”
His friend asked him seeing Miles is more grumpy than he usually is. “I’m fine.” He replied as his friend knew he was lying but decided to not push it and just thought that he was just having an awful morning. The only times when he did have awful mornings is when Y/n wasn’t around, and this was one of those awful mornings.
The bell rang and Miles got up to leave and as he walked out the classroom whispers were surrounding him. The soft voices going in and out of his ears, they filled the hallways. He managed to make it to his class and sat in his usual seat by the window in the back.
All of a sudden, students yelling and running could be heard outside the class, curiosity got the best of Miles as he got up from his seat to see what the ruckus is about. He used his taller figure as an opportunity to see over the crowd.
He was shocked to see his girlfriend, Y/n on top of another female, punching her as the girl below her was screaming and crying. One of Y/n’s hands was gripping the girls hair to keep her head down and her other hand was in a fist as she laid blow after blow to her face. Her nose was bleeding and bruises started to form on her face.
The female under Y/n was kicking and squirming, trying to get out from under her but couldn’t from Y/n’s body weight being forcefully pushed on her to keep her down.
Students surrounding them were recording and yelling as others just watched in horror.
“You wanna talk shit about my man!? You’re shady and pathetic, say it out loud to me instead of going behind his back.”
Y/n’s voice spat coldly in her face as the girl looked terrified while tears were running down her cheeks.
He was shocked seeing the scene, he never expected Y/n to be the jealous type let alone fight someone who talked bad about him. Miles didn’t and couldn’t care less about people who talked bad about him. Cause he knows that he can easily beat them with no issue.
So seeing Y/n get jealous and protective because another female talked bad about him behind his back, almost made him feel proud, thinking about how he knew that Y/n is really the one for him.
After a while, the principal came and broke up the fight then took the girl and Y/n to his office. Teachers who were there, escorted and told the students to get back to their classes. Everyone went to their classes and as Miles was in his seat, he was wondering what the girl said that made Y/n so mad.
While he was thinking, he smirked to himself, knowing that his girl, his only, did that to another female for him. Pride filled his chest knowing that any other girl wouldn’t have done it. He was proud to call Y/n his and his only.
The school day ended, and Y/n was walking out of school but then was stopped by Miles.
“Ay Mami, what happened back there earlier?” His hand placed on her shoulder as he turned her body around to face him.
“Some girl talked shit about you, and I couldn’t let that slide.” She huffed out pissed off and crossed her arms. He only smirked down at her before letting out a small chuckle.
“Who would have known that Mami would be jealous and protective of me.” His voice teased her with a smirk on his face. She looked at him before rolling her eyes.
“I wasn’t jealous…I was only doing what I had to do.” She glanced at him which only made him laugh as he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her body closer to his before he started to walk.
“Plus, why would I be jealous of a white girl? One thing that I do question is why would that little white girl talk shit knowing that we don’t play around when it comes to confrontation?”
Her voice spoke as she scoffed with a small laugh.
“You know…I would kill any guy who even dares to breath in your direction..~”
He bent down to her ear to whisper in her ear. His voice was low and deep as it sent shivers down her spine, causing her skin to grow goosebumps.
“You don’t mean that though, right?” Looking at him with a raised brow as he just smirked and stayed silent.
“Don’t play with me right now…you don’t mean it right?!” Her voice slightly raised, giving him an almost flabbergasted expression.
“I don’t know Mamas..do you think I’m playing?”
The tone of his voice was low and deeper than before. It was almost concerning, she knew how possessive he could get. But the way his voice got deeper, it sounded dark.
She stayed silent, his hand reaching over to her chin as he lifted her head to look at him. He had his usual cold expression but this time it was even..colder?..
His eyes were completely lifeless. No sign of shine or life in them which made her a little nervous when he stared down at her.
“I asked you a question Mamas, and I expect an answer..”
The sound of his tone was like he was a robot. It didn’t sound human, no hit of emotion behind it. She thickly swallowed before answering.
“No, I don’t think you’re playing..”
She said and he smiled, giving her a soft kiss on her forehead.
“See? It isn’t that hard now was it?”
His arm wrapped around her waist again as she walked with her close to his side. He didn’t let her answer his question before speaking.
“Now let’s go out. I gotta reward my girl for doing something, right?”
Requests are still opened btw!<3
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2023-2024©𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐚4𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧-- 𝐃𝗼 𝐧𝗼𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥, 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝗺 𝗼𝐫 𝐜𝗼𝐩𝐲 𝗺𝐲 𝐰𝗼𝐫𝐤-- 𝐜𝗼𝗺𝗺𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝗼𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝗼𝗺𝐞𝐝!!
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loveinhawkins · 1 year
Text
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 ao3
Eddie goes to slip out for some air when El starts to doze against Steve’s shoulder.
As he reaches the door, Steve calls for him with a soft, “Wait a sec.”
He turns to see Steve trying to sit up a little, still mindful not to jostle El from where she now sits on the edge of the bed.
“Wake me up if I’m asleep when you get back? I don’t wanna miss Joyce.”
He says it casually, like it’s nothing, but Eddie can hear the trust in his voice.
“Yeah, ‘course I will,” Eddie says, and manages a genuine if subdued smile before he leaves the room.
Outside, he feels like he can let go a little, sighing loudly. It’s starting to rain, but he welcomes it, tilts his face upwards to focus on the sensation of water hitting his skin—hoping that maybe it will somehow chase away the memory of Steve’s words.
You shouldn’t have—
That’s different.
Eddie presses his hands against his eyes, sighs again.
“You okay there?”
He lowers his hands, blinks to adjust to the light.
Joyce Byers is sat on a bench smoking a cigarette, the overhang of the hospital roof sheltering her from the rain. She pats the space beside her in invitation.
He sits down hesitantly. “Yeah, I’m… I’m fine.”
She smiles like she’s not convinced, blows out smoke a little shakily. She takes another drag, then says, “Hop’s gone for Round Two with the doctors. We want Steve to get a discharge note as soon as possible, you know? I just…” She sighs. “Just needed a minute.”
“He’ll be okay, right?” Eddie blurts out, can’t stop a note of anxiety from creeping in. Embarrassingly, his voice trembles right at the end.
Joyce immediately reaches across and squeezes his knee; her hand is small and warm. “Oh, yes, he’s—I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t mean to make you worry.” She finishes the cigarette, stubs it out, and meets Eddie’s gaze reassuringly as she speaks. “He’s recovering, we know that for sure. Jim… Jim talked to him, and he’s probably in more pain than he’d ever let on, but we’re—trust that we’re ready for that, okay? We’re not gonna let him suffer in silence.”
There’s a fierce determination in her voice, and it takes the edge off Eddie’s worry—soothed by the thought that Steve does have people fighting for him.
Joyce draws back her hand, rubs briefly at the side of her face.
Eddie can’t stop himself from noticing, from asking. He never could. “Are you okay?”
She drops her hand, smiles at him. “Oh, you’re sweet. I’m all right, just…” Her eyes go off into the middle distance for a moment, and he is reminded of the snatches he saw of her around town three years ago, when people would sigh patronisingly: That poor woman.
“They had a whole file on Will, you know? So many damn papers, all these charts and monitoring, and, ‘Oh, isn’t this fascinating,’ and…”
Eddie inhales sharply, glad he’s already sitting down. There’s still gaping holes in his knowledge, he knows that Dustin gave him a hasty summary—needs must and all that, just glossing past it with an It all started when Will disappeared. Hearing it from Joyce like this is different, makes him reckon again with the sheer magnitude of it; and he feels ill at the thought of a very young Will Byers being studied.
“But when I cornered them today, it was… they barely had half a page on Steve.” She exhales forcefully. “Cowards. They thought they could get away with it.”
“With what?” Eddie says, already knowing that he won’t like the answer.
“They’re trying to run,” Joyce replies shortly. “They’re getting rid of evidence. I think they thought—hoped—that Steve would slip through the cracks.”
Eddie’s breath catches at that, and Joyce grips his knee again.
“Hey, listen to me. We’re not letting that happen. We’ve got him, okay?”
Eddie nods. “O-okay.”
“I’d better head up and see him.” Joyce stands, and then she just looks at him. “Eddie, you’re—you’ve done so much, you know? Thank you.”
Eddie can’t bite his tongue. “You don’t even know me,” he says, and he’s not sure himself of what he means, if it’s an accusation or… He’s used to murmurs, whispers, suspicion.
But Joyce’s eyes are shining with something like acceptance. She smiles, says, “I know enough,” like it’s easy.
And when she leaves, Eddie just sits with that. Breathes it in. Lets himself trust.
-
He crosses paths with El and Hopper as he heads back inside. He does a feigned double take in the foyer when El spots him, then crosses his eyes.
El sticks out her tongue.
Hopper doesn’t notice him; there’s a purpose to his step, car keys in hand.
Eddie lets them go.
-
Steve doesn’t need to be woke up; Eddie can already hear him talking as he approaches the room. The door is shut, but the corridor is empty, so silent that Eddie can make out words, muffled but comprehensible. Joyce.
“—so sorry, Steve, we went to the cabin first, and the phone kept cutting out, and then Hop got sick so we wanted to hold off, just in case it made you—”
“No, no, it’s fine, I wasn’t expecting—”
There’s a chair just outside the room—Eddie lowers himself into it and waits.
They talk for a while. Eddie zones out for part of it as Joyce does most of the talking, references to Russia that mostly go right over his head.
But then Steve speaks again, and there’s a discomfort in his voice that has Eddie straightening in his seat.
“I know you paid to fix the window, Joyce, please let me—”
“No, no, that’s not—”
“—pay you back, I can—”
“Steve,” Joyce insists, and it’s said kindly, but Eddie can sense the steel core behind it. “No. I don’t want you worrying about anything like that. It’s not a problem, okay?”
There’s a pause. In the silence, it’s almost like Eddie can feel Steve grappling for words.
“I’m—I’m sorry, I probably left the place a mess,” Steve says quietly.
“No, not at—”
“And, um, if you’re using the dryer, you’ve gotta—I don’t know what I did, but it’s not broken-broken, you just need to really slam it, and then it should—”
“All right,” Joyce interrupts gently. “Steve, it’s—thank you for—”
“No, you don’t need to—the house is always open if the kids need it, they know where the spare key is.”
“Still, it’s—it’s really kind of you to…” Joyce trails off, and Eddie wonders what she’s thinking. What she’s noticed.
Please see him. Reach him.
“It’s good for the kids to have that space,” Joyce says. “They’ve really needed it.”
“And they’re, um.” Steve’s voice wavers. “They’re all okay?”
“Oh, honey. Yeah, they’re all just fine, they can’t wait for you to—”
“I just—” Steve breathes in and out shakily. When he speaks again, his voice starts to rise in pitch, fighting tears. “I just needed them to be okay.”
Quick footsteps. Steve makes a small, desperate kind of gasp. Eddie does not need to see to know that Joyce is holding him.
“Everyone’s okay. You—you did so well, you kept them all safe.” She sighs. “Oh, sweetie, you’ve been so brave.”
And Steve quietly falls apart.
-
When Joyce leaves, she sweeps Eddie up in a brief, strong hug, almost lifting him right out of the chair. It reminds him a little of Nancy.
“They think I can leave in a couple of days,” Steve tells him. The only giveaway of earlier on is the blotches around his eyes—now he seems to breathe a little easier.
Eddie hopes that whatever strings Joyce and Hopper have pulled, it warrants Steve being given much more than half a fucking page.
“Tomorrow, could you, um—like, would you mind just picking up some clothes from mine? Just wanna look, uh, as normal as—”
“Normal? Think that ship sailed a long time ago, Harrington.”
Steve scoffs through a laugh. “You just don’t appreciate art when you see it.”
“Want me to iron the polos, too?”
“Now let’s not go crazy,” Steve says, smile broadening.
And it’s only when he goes to sprawl on the couch again that Eddie notices it’s pressed up against Steve’s bed once more—that Steve, at some point, must have asked for it to be moved back.
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