#only took me graduating college and at least two jobs to get here.

[millersfinest]

untethered⁴ | e.w

00s!ellie williams & 00s!miller!reader

wc: 11.3k

series: chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four (you’re here!)

blurb: it’s been awhile since you’ve been back home; in upstate new york where you’ve spent most of your life waking up early and tending to the animals that moo���d and meh’d. after graduation high school, and then college, the city life has stolen most of your attention. enabling you to visit only a handful of times through the years. when your lovely adoptive parents (tommy and maria miller) invite you back for a thanksgiving dinner—a troubled old flame from your childhood manages to get your attention, despite its explosive ending.

cw: +18 CONTENT, lmao flip phones, r and ellie NOT beating the cheating allegations, more use of y/n then i would prefer, she/her pronouns, afab anatomy mentioned, vulgar language, some angst (not on ellie’s watch tho), fuckgirl!ellie (kind of), the millers, r is a writer (she doesn’t write much in this ch wink wink 2.0), r and ellie conspiring, more horndog ellie, porn w plot ig, elements of longing, ellie is #1 lesbian yearner in the world, some early 2000s references, thanksgiving, r is still very jealous of cat, hella angst, ellie has a landing strip ;), emotional cheating (from ellie), maria doesn’t play w r, repressed emotions, SMUT (r and ellie fuck nasty), dryhumping (underrated af), fingering, tribbing/scissoring, oral (e! receiving), titty sucking, little bit of dirty talk (not much because i’m shit at it), sub!top!ellie (?), dom!bottom!reader (?), they flip flop you guys idk.

note: i swear i can’t write smut for the LIFE OF ME… but practice makes perfect, right? my brain stopped working halfway through writing the smut portion of this so… if you don’t think ellie is giving sub!top than… you might be onto something. anywayyy, i have sm fun writing the reader and ellie’s dynamic!!! hope you guys enjoy this lengthy freaky chapter <3 and to my new followers, i see you, i hear you, and i stalk your accounts. bisou babiessss x

After your father gently chewed you out for taking so long—must’ve woken up on the wrong side of the bed—him and Maria took Joel to see his surprise; little Sarah. They were gonna take care of the animal work this morning, while you showed Ellie how to manage the grocery shipments. The collection of the items produced on the farm: eggs, milk and fresh vegetables. All that good stuff.

“Please, be thorough because this is how we make our money, honey.” Maria said before she followed after the brother’s, out the back door.

You swipe the clipboard off the counter that they left for you, puffing air from your mouth. Ellie followed you out the door as you led her to a trailer that kept all the products that were packaged the night before. When you lived back home, you often did the morning chores, while they did the nightly chores—although, they helped you where they could in the mornings, because you had school.

They package the eggs, milk and vegetables, but it was your job to count everything—make sure nothing was broken or eaten by bugs or tainted by anything. It was a detail-oriented job. Then, you put everything in crates and prepare them to be taken to the local shops in town. Normally, your parents dealt with that part, but not this time.

The crisp air had smacked life into you once you stepped outside. And, it was a bit of journey from the house to the trailer. The first few minutes alone, walking toward your destination, was in silence. Partially, an awkward silence. Ellie dragged her feet behind you, feigning a level of coolness that didn’t exist for her. “So, what exactly are we doing?” She questioned, peeking over your shoulder.

You peered at her, raising an eyebrow. “We’re doing a count, and a quality check of the groceries we sell to the shops at the square…” You begin, handing her the clipboard. “So, basically, a bunch of boring shit. But, at least we get to ride downtown and deliver the stuff. It’s like a fun little field trip.” Shrugging your shoulders, you arrive at the temperature controlled trailer after several minutes of walking.

“Oh…”

“This is what you signed up for, Ellie… How does it feel?” You pulled the key from your hip, unlocking the door. Naturally, you hold the door open for her, letting her walk in before you, eyeing her slender frame hidden under her sweatshirt and jacket.

She sucked in a breath, wrapping her arms around herself. Freckled cheeks turning red from the cold temperature. “Shit,” Ellie looked to you, with her eyebrows bunched together.

“Gotta keep the groceries fresh. It’s even worse in the winter. Which is where we’re headed so… Good luck, I guess.” You place your hand on her shoulder, squeezing, gently. The other hand snatching the clipboard from her hand. Keeping your eyes trained on hers, teasingly.

Surprisingly, you composed yourself enough after what you pulled this morning. Touching yourself to the thought of your past lover—it was a filthy thing to do. But, it’s not like she knew anything; at least, you hoped she didn’t. If she did, she would’ve said something by now because she was a nuisance.

Ellie jutted her bushy eyebrows upwards, humming to herself.

“All right, so,” You began, rolling your tongue in your mouth as you read down the checklist. “We should have two hundred and fifty tomato’s, one hundred and seventy-five carrots, one hundred and ten Granny Smith apples and one hundred an’ forty honey-crisp apples—“

“Wait, I’m sorry… Are we hand counting all of these?” Ellie questioned, dumbfounded.

You chortled, placing a hand on your hip. “Uh, yeah, Ellie. This isn’t a factory.”

She scoffed, looking around at all the products around her. Cursing under her breath, pushing a piece hair behind her ear. “Continue…” Ellie sighed, squatting in front of one of the crates of tomato’s. Tossing one up in her hand, examining it. “These are some pretty sexy tomato’s.” She muttered, glancing up at you.

Rolling your eyes, you hummed, dragging your finger across the checklist. “Let’s just start countin’. After each, check the list to see if the numbers match up.”

You started counting the eggs and gallons of unprocessed milk, while Ellie counted the vegetables. Later joining her with the vegetables because she was, surely, taking her time. The apples is where she found herself confused—or feigning confusion. You weren’t entirely sure, but the way she blinked at you made you consider the idea.

Perhaps, it was poor thinking on your part; locked in the cold trailer, it was inevitable for the two of you to cling to each other… For warmth. The strictness of your parents had rubbed off on you, but around her you always loosened up. Ellie was like your other half—the yin to your yang. But it always began with a luring of sorts; on her part. That's what loved about her.

Her big, earthy eyes bored into yours—penetrating you, mercilessly.

“Did you forget how to count?” You snicker, glancing between her and the fruit.

“My minds a little busy at the moment…” She sing-songed, glancing at you from the corner of her eye. There was so much insinuation in her words—you knew immediately what she was referring to. Or you were projecting like all hell.

Truth was, in those moments from her knocking on your door, to walking out in the cold to the trailer; Ellie wondered why the fuck you haven’t said anything. About the kiss, that is. The borderline makeout session that happened in that bar bathroom. What if that woman never banged on the door? What would’ve happened next? She had so many questions and curiosities that she was intending to voice.

She wasn’t mad… Just overtly interested in your thoughts beyond nobody can know about this.

You weren’t projecting at all.

Carefully, you observed her, taking in a big, deep breath. “With…?” You inquired, blinking at her, fingering the round fruits in the crate.

Ellie turned her head, slowly. “Am I allowed to speak of it while the sun’s still out?” She lightly, teased. The corners of her plump lips rising.

“Don’t be a dick.” You chuckle, narrowing your eyes. “Nobody’s around… So— speak freely, please.” Your shoulders shrugging, faking a careless demeanor.

“If you promise not to hit me…”

“Seriously?” Your features pinched, leaning back on your hands in your crisscrossed position.

She chewed on her lip. “Too soon?”

Answering her with silence was enough for her to change the subject back to what was originally intended to be talked about: the kiss.

Quickly, she recovered. “I can’t stop thinking about you— the kiss. There! I said it.” Ellie admitted, eyes searching between yours for some sort of consolation. But, she was met with none other than silence. More silence. Sprinkled with a little bit of shock—it was written all over your precious face.

Your eyebrows were stuck in a raised position, lips parted as if you heard a stranger say a foul joke over the phone. “Uhm, it’s now your turn to say: Oh, my God, Ellie! I can’t stop thinking about you, too! Let’s run away together!” She furrowed her thick eyebrows, followed by a boyish chuckle. God, that made your heart swell, then shatter.

“Fuck, Ellie… Els…” Lips gaped like a fish trying to formulate your words. That was not how she was wanting to hear you repeat fuck, Ellie—wasn’t the plan at all. Her heart completely dropped to her ass. “I don’t… Break up relationships. I’m not that kind of person. I don’t wanna be seen as that kind of person.” You explained, looking directly into her shaking eyes. Pressing your lips together, gulping, you placed your hand on her knee. “Stop thinking about me… Stop thinking about that kiss— it’s never happening again. It was a mistake.” You gently told her, with a gaze that said the complete opposite.

A mistake. That struck her like an iron ton—or like one of those comical piano’s falling from the sky. Abrupt. Unexpected.

Her lips quivered and her shoulders shrunk at your direct words. “It didn’t feel like a mistake.” Ellie muttered, clenching her jaw. “Nor did it fucking sound like one…” She followed, throwing the apple in her hand into the crate, jumping to her feet.

“Okay, can you not bruise the apple—“

“Fuck the apple…” She spoke under her breath, shutting eyes in frustration. Ellie fought the pain in her chest, inhaling and exhaling, evenly.

You looked down, pitifully. “I’m sorry—“

“Don’t be.” Ellie interrupted, shaking her head with pursed lips. “Because I don’t believe a single word that you just said.” She added, shrugging her tense shoulders.

Making a bewildered face, you stand to you feet, pushing back one of the crates you were counting from. “Well, you don’t have to believe me. Just listen to me.” You face your palms toward her, leaning forward, slightly. “I’m trying to help you, Ellie.”

She sized you up. “You think your help is what I want from you?”

“It doesn’t matter what you want, because that’s all you’re getting from me.” You told, crossing your arms over your chest. “I am not a homewrecker.”

“There isn’t a home to wreck!”

“To you, Ellie! To you there isn’t a home to wreck!” You finally raise your tired voice, ending your rushed our words with your hand over your eyes. “She worries about you, she gets two bottles of champagne because I ask for it— I’m wrecking her home, and I can’t do that. Not with a clean conscience."

A beat of silence moves through the both of you, like an elegant ribbon dancing around your stiff bodies. Trying to pull the two of you together. Ellie was standing with so much distance between you, holding herself for comfort. Cold air whistled behind your ears as you waited for some kind of response. You watched her earthy eyes search around, lip moving as she gnawed the inside of her cheek in thought. “Ellie—“ You took a step forward, reaching a hand out to comfort her.

“Did you think about that… Touching yourself to the thought of me this morning?” Ellie let the words come from her slow and full of poison, taking her time to look you in the eye. Her feet began to move, meeting you in the middle. Face to face. Chest to chest.

Words got caught in your throat as embarrassment clouded your vision and mind. “W-- What?” You stammered, frozen in your place. She was the last person you wanted to hear that; it was an accident. It just happened. Similar to that kiss you shared together. It was in her character to bring it up--you fucking knew that much, but you didn't anticipate her bringing it up so harshly.

“How would Cat feel if she found out you were fucking yourself to the idea of her girlfriend—“

“It wasn’t like that.” You tried, averting your eyes. Eyebrows pushing together, swallowing the anger building in your throat.

“Wasn’t it?” A sickening smirk spread on her lips. Chest grazing yours as she stood tall. “I heard you… Whining for me— what we did couldn’t have meant nothing.” Her voice grew gentle, hand reaching toward a warm place on your neck. Still, internally writhing with embarrassment, you let her. Leaning into her cold hand, bracing yours at the divot of her elbow.

A sigh fell from your lips, meeting her intense irises. “I never said it meant nothing.” You mumbled, breath hitching. “It just shouldn’t happen, again. We have to think of the people—“

“Can you just think about yourself for once?” Her hand slipped closer to the nape of your neck, pulling you close like you did to her. Ellie peered down at your parted lips, nearly pressing her forehead to yours. She still noticed that hesitance in your demeanor—you were talking yourself off the damn ledge. Fighting the temptation that was Ellie Williams caressing your skin. Feeling you. Tethering to you for connection.

Perhaps, there was another way she could get you to stop restraining. In order for her to give in, she needed you to decide on your own accord. Your heavy breathing wasn’t enough for her. Nor was the stressed massaging of her forearm by your desperate fingers.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone—“

“Say the word, and I’ll do as you say. Say the word... And the kiss didn’t happen…” She whispered near your lips, breathing in the air you released—which couldn’t have been healthy. Even in the face of situational rejection, she breathed you in like fresh air.

Your hand found a way to cling to her sweatshirt, bunching the material hanging around her waist. Her lips pecked the corner of your lips, moving toward your cheek, then your jaw. You leaned into her touch, whining lowly. She was suffocating in the best way. For a moment, you believed you would actually go through with it. Unable to resist her, until you spoke. “I can’t…” You mutter, with your eyes fluttered shut. But as quickly as you said it, she pulled away from you. Arms, lips—fucking everything.

There was so much hurt in her eyes, but she swallowed it down. “Please, understand.” You pleaded, automatically feeling uncomfortably cold now that her touch was gone.

“Oh, I understand, all right.” Ellie bit, dryly chuckling. She was wilting before your eyes. Just like Dina had mentioned. This is what happens to her when you’re around, and you wanted to everything to make it better. However, your morals were clouding you. The moral being: Not appearing like something you weren’t. Not even, being a homewrecker—it was worse to be seen as one, than actually being one.

Your mind was occupied by the image of her in your dreams and while you were awake—you just fought harder against it. Ellie was the exact opposite of you. She fell into you the minute she knew that she could; it was worthy of your respect in some degree. But she wasn't yours anymore. “I’m gonna go pull Tommy’s truck around…”

She swiftly left the trailer, leaving you in your abrasive thoughts. The door shut behind her and you just blinked at it. Muttering curses under your breath, tears welling up in your eyes. Your memories flashing back to what it felt like to be kissed by her. It set your skin on fire—you’ve never been more in tune with someone in your life! It scared you to take a risk as grand as succumbing to someone who was spoken for.

The one thing Ellie told you about Cat was that she didn’t inspire her. And, from her first night on the farm, the artist was back engaging in her work again. Was it conceited to assume it was because of you? Clearly, something was off between the two of them. Enough for her to be looking to you for consolation. You were her muse; there were rights that you did have pertaining to Ellie. Plus, she was yours first...

Look at you, talking yourself up to resuming the treachery that was your blooming relationship with Ellie. That burning feeling you felt seeing her features drop at your rejection was like fire up the ass; a call to action. Ellie stole that level of control from you—the idea that you could succumb or pull away whenever you wanted to.

All of a sudden, you needed her more than breath itself.

Instead of waiting by the door for her like a mannequin, you finished up the counting with quickness. Checking off the list as you finished—all the products being accurately numbered.

Ellie had pulled the freight truck around, and quicker than you thought. It was as large as the smallest UHaul truck, and packing all the crates inside wasn’t much of a hassle. The auburn-haired woman stood inside the back, taking the crates from your hands to load the products inside. Fingers grazing every other crate, but Ellie made sure not to physically pay it any mind. She was playing a game that was only entertaining to herself.

She was a warm-blooded manipulator and a very good one. Ellie believed she was using her powers for good this time, though. For true love, she believes. Her gut told her that you felt just as insatiable for her as she did for you—she fucking knows it! It makes her sick that you can’t be forthright about how you feel without worrying so much. Yeah, she should probably break-up with Cat—and, mentally, she’s been planning to for months—but right now that wasn’t the priority.

She could only set her sights on two things at a time, and that was her art and you--two things that easily coincides with one another. Like mentioned before, she’ll handle the situation between her and Cat at some point. Whenever that will be.

Ellie could feel you chipping away with every chance of connection she took from you. Finger grazes. Intentional eye contact. She would flinch every time you tried to touch her, just like you did in that bathroom. Giving you a taste of your own medicine. It felt good, although, that pouty look on your face didn't let her fully revel in it.

You drove the truck downtown to drop off the goods—trading products for checks and money-orders. The drive being the worst fifteen minutes of your life. Stuck in a stuffy truck with a woman who was pissed at you. You kept glancing over at the freckled artist, hoping she’d meet your eyes just once. But her chin was rested on her fist as she looked out the window, keeping her eyes trained on the passing landmarks.

When all of the products were delivered, you started the engine with a loud huff. Disgruntled, well within your rights. But she didn’t pay you an ounce of attention until you released an exasperated sigh, halfway down the road.

“Fine, fuck, I take it back, Ellie!” You tap your thumbs around the wheel, trying to keep your eyes on the road.

She raises an eyebrow. “You take what back?” She wanted to hear you say it; a slight smirk spreading on her lips. It worked quicker than she thought it would—you must’ve wanted her bad.

You pull the truck to the side of the road, shifting in your seat to lay your eyes on her, safely. “I can’t stop thinking about you, either…” The confession pushed from your throat, leaking with solemnity. “Or the kiss— that fucking kiss.” You shut your eyes, re-living it in your mind before her.

“Well, I already knew that… I just needed to hear you say it.” She rolled her eyes, nonchalantly, leaning forward on her knees.

“Don’t get too excited… I have a proposition.” You hold your head up high, lifting your chin. Grasping for any semblance of control that you could muster. Ellie motioned her hand for you to continue, and you did. It was difficult to say, because that meant that it was real. Your sappy, horny and sickeningly romantic feelings for her were real. “I want you, and clearly, you want me, too. So… Why don’t we just get it over with?”

A grin cracked onto her face, followed by a giggle. Freckled cheeks turning a lovely shade of red. “Get it over with? Yeah, that’s totally something a woman wants to hear—“

“Ellie, you know what I mean.”

“Do I?” She raised a scarred eyebrow. The woman leaned back in her seat, sliding down, spreading her legs apart. Ellie was thinking with a subtle smile that couldn’t leave her face. She was excited and beyond. “You wanna fuck me, y/n?” The auburn-haired woman looked over at you, tapping her hand against the passenger seats handles. “Or… Do you want me to fuck you—? I’m down for either, really…”

You scoff at her words, shaking your head. “I wanna make sure that… We’re not acting like this because of the thrill of it all… Old flings, and shit. Get this out of our system.”

“So, this is a one and done type’a thing?”

“Depends. We’ll find out, I guess. I’m willing to find out.” You shrug, flickering your eyes across her stunning face. If only you could start now…Instead of harping, you turn back toward the wheel.

Ellie releases a joyful laugh under her hand; excited beyond measure. There was a thrill to sneaking around, but she didn’t need that to be with you. “Wait… You consider this,” She gestures between the two of you. “An old fling? We were together for two years.”

“Semantics, Ellie.” You chuckled, starting to move the truck back onto the road.

She sucked her teeth. “Semantics my tits— there’s nothing old flingy about us. I’m literally in love with you.” Ellie scoffs, glancing out the window before realizing what she said aloud. Pausing with her fist covering her mouth.

Warmth gathered in your face, gripping the steering wheel to keep a restraint. “Y— You… You don’t have to say it back, but… Yeah, it’s true. I am in love with you…” Her voice trembled as she spoke, eyeing the side of your face. “This isn’t a thrill for me. But if you need to make sure this isn’t a thrill for you… I’m okay with that.”

Your heart bloomed, beating rapidly in your chest. If you could attack her with your lips while manning the wheel, you would. Choosing to be selfish was hard, especially, in a situation as taut as this one. Nobody could ever understand—you had be okay with homewrecking; you needed to figure this out. You wanted to figure this out.

It was easy to know that you were doing this for more than the thrill. But, you just had to make sure this was worth the backlash that would come of this. From your parents, from Cat, from your friends, from Ellie’s friends. It all had to be worth something.

“So… What’s the plan for this thing we’re doing? Is it, like, a date?”

You snickered, keeping your eyes on the road. “I don’t count hookups as dates. We’re gonna treat this like a one night stand… For now, at least.” You take in a breath before continuing. “My parents should be in their rooms by ten-thirty, Joel by nine— correct me if I’m wrong…”

“You’re right.” Ellie agrees, nodding her head. Peering over at you with glimmering irises.

“I’ll come get you from the back porch at eleven-forty-five— no earlier, no later.”

“This sounds like we’re about make the greatest heist known to man.” She joked, chuckling to herself.

You hummed, glancing at her, briefly. “I mean, I am stealin’ you for a night, aren’t I?”

Her cheeks immediately blushed at your words, but she looked off to the door window to hide. Pupils dilating with excitement, chewing on her bottom lip. Planning to have sex was such a juvenile thing to do—something that you used to do when you were horny teenagers. Orchestrating around your parents, sneaking around, quickies left and right. It was silly, but it had to be done; according to you, at least. And who was Ellie to object? She would do anything to feel you again.

Pulling up to your house, you parked the truck in its usual place. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to get around Cat?” You question, loosely. Somehow without that guilt that’s been creeping up your bones, imbedding into your veins.

She ran a hand through her hair, nodding with pursed lips. “Oh, she’ll be easy.” Ellie shrugged, unbuckling her seatbelt.

Your lips pull into a tight, slightly stressed smile. The artist across from you narrowed her earthy eyes, taking your hand from where she sat, leaning forward. Ellie was prepared to say some uplifting words, but she forfeited that idea as soon as her lips prepped to speak. Instead, she stood up, pulling you to the back of the truck. Where the clear windows couldn’t expose the absolute crime that the two of you were—walking moral felonies.

Her hand clenched yours, coming to stop in the dark. Your hand creeped up her forearm, pressing yourself close enough to her to be irresistible. Ellie reached for your jaw, not wasting any time to press her lips against yours. Her lips were soft and longing; as if she’s been waiting for this moment her whole life. Your hands braced at her hips, pushing hers against yours—but, she still tried to take the lead. Tongue grazing your bottom lip as an ask to intrude your mouth.

Ellie wanted to make sure that you weren’t going to change your mind. She must've not have known you as well as you thought, because you most definitely weren’t.

The feeling of her fingers creeping around your throat made you pull away. Looking at her in the dimly lit darkness of the back of the truck. Pupils dilated, completely under her spell. And she thought you were the compelling one. “Do you have any resolve?” A smile spread onto your wet, shiny lips.

“Nope!” She grinned, leaning into you for more.

Turning your face, you laughed. “Save some for later, you freak.” Ellie kissed your cheek, then kissed it again; holding your face in her hands like a delicate object. “Ellie!” You giggled, holding onto her wrists. “We can’t camp out in this truck… They’ll start asking questions.”

“Ugh, I know…” Ellie finally pulled back, but she held onto your hand because she had to be tethered to you in some way. “Do you think we’ll have any time together before later?” She was such a romantic to her core.

“Probably, not. I have to help my mom prep some food for tomorrow… I promised.” You massaged her palm with your thumb, kissing her knuckles like it was something you did all the time. It was certainly something you wouldn't mind doing all the time. “Be patient for me, yeah?”

“I can try…” Ellie pouted, rolling her eyes.

“Eleven-forty-five… You’re all mine, and I’m all yours. Just a few hours. You can make it.” You finalized before walking back to the front of the truck to exit. But not without winking in her direction, leaving her in the dark. Stuck in a paralyzed trance: You’re all mine, and I’m all yours. Was this some sort of dream?

This was really happening.

The rest of the day was spent getting ready for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow. You helped Maria prep her biscuit dough, and marinade for the ham. As well as cutting fruit for the pie Ellie and Joel were planning on making tomorrow. It felt domestic preparing things for her and Joel--just like you used to do. Sometime during that period, Tommy and Ellie took off to the butcher shop to grab some steak—because what was a Miller’s Thanksgiving without options?

And, weirdly enough, Cat joined you and your mother in the food prep. Which totally messed up your domestic fantasy of family cooking.

She snacked on the apple’s you chopped, leaning against the corner. “Have you ever tried her apple pie?” Cat asked, taking one of the other slices that you placed on a napkin in front of her. You were trying to be nice here. “Ellie is such a great cook.” She mused, dusting her hands on the fabric of her pajama pants.

You chuckled, rinsing off the bulk of the apple slices in the deep sink. “A long time ago… It’s pretty good.”

Maria chuckled, mixing spices and seasoning into her honey ham marinade. “Bug’s a harsh critic, too. So if she says it’s good, then it’s good.”

“She does the whole sugar crumble thing. It really sets it off.” You add, dropping the sliced apples into plastic tupperware to put in the fridge.

Cat hummed, pushing a piece of her slick black hair behind her ear. “Good to know. I guess I have something to look forward to— as well as your cooking Mrs. Miller.” She complimented, sharing a friendly smile. With your head still facing the fridge, you couldn’t have rolled your eyes harder. She was so sweet it made you sick. Champagne bottles mocking you as you emotionally rejected the girl in your kitchen.

“Is there anything I could help out with?”

“No, I don’t think—“

“Of course, hon. Would you mind taking that cornbread out of the oven?” Maria interrupted you, casting you a glare that only you could notice. Jutting your eyebrows up, you scoff under your breath. She hands her mittens from a drawer to aid in the removal of the glass pan.

Sighing, you watch her remove the cornbread—the one you were going to use for stuffing. “I’m gonna go take a smoke break…” You mutter, already pushing through the front screen door.

Soon after you pulled out your pack of yellow American Spirits, placing a stick between your teeth, your mother had followed you out. With her veiny hands on her hips, staring at you like you committed some sort of crime. Upon seeing her face, you lit the end of your cigarette, jutting your eyebrows up.

“What is going on with you?” She asserted, glancing at the cigarette between your lips with disgust. Maria never liked that you smoked; she knew how bad they were for you, but you didn’t have much of a reason to care. You didn’t care when you were young, and you surely didn’t now. For a brief moment, when you and Ellie were together, you smoked less. But, after that, you picked up like you never stopped.

You puffed the smoke away from her, holding the cigarette between your index and middle finger. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Uh, you don’t know what I’m talkin’ about? You think I didn’t hear all that heavy breathin’ in there?” Maria raised an eyebrow.

“Maria,”

“Don’t Maria me.” She inhaled, pointing an authoritative finger at you. “I can’t control who you like, but that girl in there is a guest in our home— and she will be treated with respect.” The blonde woman told as you leaned your head to the side like a rebellious teen. “All that sighin’ is for the birds.”

You pursed your lips, rolling your eyes. “Heard. Yes, ma’am.”

Her bright eyes softened, watching you take puffs from the stick between your fingers. “I know it’s hard to see. I understand that. But we’re not always gonna like everything— I’m sure you know that, though.”

“Yeah,” You breathe, peering at your mother.

“Why don’t you invite that Abby girl to dinner tomorrow? Ellie told us she took you home the other night.” She offered, nudging you, playfully. Record fucking scratch.

Why on earth would Ellie mention Abby to her parents? Where would she even find the time to do that? A deep sigh fell from your lips, but you covered it with a smile. “You know, what? That’s a great idea, mom. I’ll text her. See if she has any plans…”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “This generation and their texting— give her a call, honey. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”

Maria squeezed your shoulder before dipping back into the house. You leaned your elbows on the bannister, hinging at your hips. Ellie telling your parents about Abby wasn’t going to put a damper on the plans tonight—however, she was going to pay for that. Stubbing out your cigarette, you snatched your cell from your hip. Decorative chain dangling from the headphone port.

Your thumb flicked open the screen, and you began to search through your contacts looking for Abs. Perhaps, you should call her—to really make the sentiment stick. After all, she was the one asking when she was going to see you again.

You clicked the call button on your keyboard, placing it on your ear. The line trilled and trilled, until a muffled sound signaled that she had picked up. “Abigail Anderson,” She greeted, as if she didn’t know it was you. But you could hear the smile in her voice.

“How formal, Abs.” She chuckled on the other end. “Do you have any plans tomorrow?”

“You mean on Thanksgiving? Yeah, I wouldn’t be in this middle-of-nowhere town if I didn’t.” She paused, shuffling on the other end of the line. Like she was shifting in her bed or something. “Why? You wanna do somethin’?” Her voice leaked with innuendo, and it actually made your stomach churn; like you were doing something wrong.

Sighing, you turned your back against the bannister. “Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner tomorrow… My family and I aren’t gonna eat all this food ourselves— we could use a helping hand.”

“Meeting the parents? I don’t know…”

You chortled. “It’s not like that, and you know it.”

“I said I’ll help Owen’s family with food prep… But, I should have some time to stop by.”

Yes!

“Okay, just keep me updated if anything changes.”

“I’d never leave you hangin’.”

“Right… Buh bye.” You shut the phone before she has the chance to respond. Releasing a sigh of relief. Oh, and just in time for Tommy and Ellie to pull into the gravel driveway.

You peered over your shoulder, coolly. With your bare arms wrapped around your body for warm. You watch as Tommy and Ellie hop out the truck with paper bags in his hands and two packs of beer in Ellie’s—they don’t need that much beer. But, it was a nice sight to see them laughing together. “Where’s Joel?” You question, deepening your eyebrows.

“He’s picking up a new guitar for tomorrow!” Your father responded, approaching the porch. Ellie following close behind him, looking through her lashes at you as she stepped up the wooden steps.

“Hey, Ellie.” You greeted, pressing your lips into a smile. A no strings attached smile.

“Hey, y/n.” She dragged the hey a bit longer than she should have, passing you. Tommy pulling open the screen door, holding it with his foot. But, you didn’t let her pass. Stepping in front of her with a playful smirk on your lips.

Eyeing the packs of canned and glass-bottled beer in her hands. “I hope there’s some wine or coolers in that truck a’ yours…”

She nervously chuckled, causing the blond man to raise an eyebrow. Cheeks raising and blushing. “I only have two hands. There’s two bottles of Sauvignon Blanc in there. Door’s unlocked.”

You smiled, unintentionally ogling her as she stepped passed Tommy to go inside. By the time your eyes ascended, you caught his skeptical blue ones. “I’ll go get the wine…” You mutter, trotting off the porch.

And that’s what you did. Trotted off to get the wine from Ellie’s truck. She was right, there were two bottles of Sauvignon Blanc waiting for you, and a rack of wine coolers. They spoiled you. Shutting the door with your hip, you walked back inside the house to place the items on the counter.

You didn’t notice the sight of Ellie clinging onto Cat—or it could’ve been the other way around—until you gave the room a once over. Tommy was giving Maria a chaste kiss on the forehead, chuckling against her skin. And, Ellie had her arms wrapped around Cat’s neck, pushing her into her chest. Her tattooed arms wrapped around her waist, laughing into her. That should've been you holding her like that.

It burned like all hell. And, frankly, it pissed you off on the lowest degree.

Catching a glimpse of Cat’s dark, almond eyes, you flinched. They weren’t sweet anymore, they reflected a level of competitiveness you have yet to see from her. It was completely and utterly random. Has she caught on? Did Ellie say something? Worry bunched in your eyebrows, but you averted your eyes.

Suddenly, you felt the need to write. Work on that chapter you started the other day.

“Hey, I’ll be upstairs… Gotta get some words outta my head.” You tapped your father’s arm as you passed him to head upstairs to your bedroom. “Call me if you need anything.” The words rush out of your mouth, before jog up the slippery wooden stairs.

When you shut yourself in your room, you fell onto your unmade bed, screaming into your pillow. Clutching the feather-filled sack with so much vigor, it could've popped in your grasp. That one glance had made the actions you were planning to do make a lot more sense, and you didn't feel as bad. You didn’t care if you were perceiving it wrong. There was always an inkling that Cat wasn’t as perfect and sweet as she let on. Why would she ever add her girlfriend’s ex on MySpace, anyway? Was she crazy? Most definitely.

You pulled out your computer to do as you said, opening your developing documents. Instead of focusing on the possessive eyes of Ellie’s girlfriend, you focused on your work—because, above all else, that was most important.

Eventually, Ellie went back to the guesthouse. Leaving Cat behind, since she was having so much fun around Maria and Tommy. It felt weird leaving her behind in a house that wasn’t familiar to her—mainly because the house was yours. Ellie knew you didn’t like her, but she wanted to finish the portrait she was working on. And she could only do that when her girlfriend was either occupied with work, sleep or pure mindlessness.

She tied a oil paint-stained apron around her neck and waist, before sitting down before her easel. She flipped over the breathable sheet she hung over it to protect the identity of the model. Then, she began painting—filling in the deep colors of the shed, then adding highlights to your painted frame. You were the first silhouette she added color to on the piece.

Time didn’t wait for either you—slipping by like it didn’t even exist. It was around eleven when you began searching for something cute to wear for Ellie. For Ellie—that was such weird thing to think about. There was old lacy nightgown that you used to wear, but the hems showed that you wore it to the ground. After a lot of shifting through drawers, you decided on a lacy pair of cheeky underwear and no bra—you could never go wrong with that. And, of course, a pair of boxer shorts and a large gray t-shirt. It was no sexy set from Victoria Secret, but it would do.

Ellie had always been a simple girl, just as much as you. She preferred nakedness over anything, anyway.

For the next twenty minutes, you pulled your legs up by your reading nook, scanning the pages of a hardcover book. It was a classic—something you were obligated to read in high school. You always loved books like that. Victorian. Regency. It was all so romantic.

The next time you glanced at the alarm clock on your beside table, it was eleven-forty-one. Meaning it was time to make your way down the stairs, checking for any lingering presences on your way.

Just like you thought, Joel and your parents were in their bedrooms. The kitchen was completely down for the night. The only light that was on was above the clean, silver gas stove. Shuffling toward the back porch, you cut the light on to check if Ellie was out there—and she was. With her hands shoved into the pockets of her sweatpants, hoodie over her head to keep her ears warm. They were matching tones of a light gray.

Opening the wooden door, you pushed open the screen door, eyeing her slender frame hidden under all that cotton. “Is this your incognito costume or…?” A smile pulling onto your lips. She narrowed her eyes at you, walking in with a slight sway in her shoulders. Ellie was illuminating with the confidence of someone who was about to get laid. The skip in her step didn't go unnoticed.

“Everyone’s asleep?” She questioned, swinging her arms at her side, waiting for you to shut the doors behind you.

Shutting off the porch light, you turn back to her, nodding. “Yeah. Just like I anticipated.” You watched her pull off the hoodie, mussing up her damp auburn hair. Olive eyes looking for you in the dark, expectantly. You take her hand with both of yours, walking backwards toward the stairs. “Come on,” You whispered, sweetly. Voice honeyed with anticipation and excitement. Fucking hell! Neither of you could believe that you were doing this.

“Be careful. The old wood creaks.”

“I know…”

Ellie followed behind your steps exactly, as you were trying to evade all the extra cracking from the staircase. It wasn’t a perfect journey from the first floor to the second, as some creaks couldn’t be evaded. But, nonetheless, you pulled her to your bedroom. Her hand growing clammy in yours, but you didn’t care.

As you shut the door behind you, Ellie began to look around your room. Noticing how it hadn’t changed much since the last time she was in there. The posters may have been different, but they were still there, barely peeling from the dull pink walls. And, hell, the catwoman figurines on your dresser were still in place. Collecting dust just like the sum of her own collectables at Joel’s place.

When she noticed you staring at her, the heart in her chest began to wildly beat in her ears. Her cheeks flushing a bright red, eyeing your frame.

You harbored a level of nervousness, but you were ready. Thinking in a happy medium of logic and emotion, you wanted to feel her. It was borderline nostalgic to the first time you were with her so intimately.

“This feels so formal.” Ellie walks up to you, placing her hands at your hips. Feeling the ridges of the waistline of your boxers over your long t-shirt. “Worse than a one night stand…” She chuckles, inspecting your features with anxiety. The moment she’s been wholly desiring was within her fingers, but her nervosa was getting the best of her.

You pressed your lips into a smile, placing one hand over hers on your hip, and the other on her cheek. She nuzzled into your touch, searching for comfort. It wasn’t hard to find, either. Since your thumb caressed her freckled skin—palm exuding nothing but warmth. “It doesn’t have to…” You began, voice purring. “This can be whatever you want it to be.”

Finding the softness of her throat to be alluring, you waste no time pressing your lips against her jaw. “Whatever you want it to be, Els.” You repeat against her skin, trailing down to her neck. Slowly plotting your lips against her throat, pushing soft breaths from her. Fingers squeezing at your hips, pressing them against hers. It was natural for you to take the lead with her—she was so bashful at times.

She’d spend the day tempting you with big eyes and deep kisses, only to turn to absolute putty in your hands when you took it to the next level.

Her body trembled under your touch, but the more she leaned into you the more relaxed she became. Your hand began to imbed itself into her hair, tips of your fingers grazing her scalp. A shaky sigh, borderline moan, came from her parted lips, legs wobbling to keep her standing on her feet. Did Cat ever make her feel this way? You were barely touching her and she was already making so much noise.

Tugging at her sweatshirt, you eyed her. “Take this off.” You breathily commented, sliding your hands under it. Quickly, she pulled the sweatshirt over her head, leaving her in a tight tank top, shaggy bangs spreading over her face. You push the strands from her eyes, glancing at her lips. Ellie dropped the sweatshirt at her feet, locked in a trance.

Your eyes glaze over in awe at her flushed features and expanded pupils. Drifting your middle finger over the beauty mark under left eye, drinking her in. “You’re so beautiful, Ellie.” Your voice wasn’t any higher than whisper, analyzing her twitching features. Her hand reached for your wrist, pulling it to plant her lips up your forearm.

“Says… You…” She speaks between each kiss, looking at you through her thick eye lashes.

A giggle sounds from you, watching her worship your skin, leading all the way back to your lips. Wrapping your arms around her shoulders, you get as close to her as you can. Her tongue timidly entered your mouth, causing you to release a moan of approval and affirmation.

She walks you toward your bed. The end of the mattress catching the back of your knees, causing you to fall. Keeping your eyes locked with hers, you scoot back into the middle of the bed. Ellie dropping her knees onto the mattress, crawling up to meet you. She pushed your shoulders down, collapsing atop of you to meet your lips again. Slotting her thigh between your legs, pulling up your shirt.

Her cool hand grazing over your ribs, just under your breast that hadn’t yet been exposed. Hips rolling against your thigh, sweats bunching in her crotch. “Fuck,” She groaning in your mouth, clenching the material of your shirt in her hands. Her sexual frustration beginning to take over. “I need you so bad, baby.” She whines, lips trailing to your jaw, nipping at you skin with her teeth.

One hand latched onto her hip, the other bracing on the mattress as you flipped her over. Positioning yourself on top of her, straddling her boney hips. Her wide earthy eyes peering up at you, full of desire. Boldly, you crossed your arms to pull the loose top from your body, throwing it across the room. “You have me...”

Slender fingers gripped your hips as you began to grind yourself on her. Breasts moving with every roll of your waist. Ellie reached a hand up to grope your chest, pinching your nipple with her thumb and the side of her finger. Abruptly, she sat up to plot her lips across your warm collarbones. Leading to where she could wrap her lips around the same sensitive nipple she was playing with.

A low gasp fell from your lips, falling into her, gripping the roots of her hair. “Ellie…” You sigh, rolling your eyes back—finding yourself overcome by her touch. You were trying to tease her, rubbing yourself against her like an animal in heat. But, you were just as greedy as her.

“Keep going…” She muttered against your skin, gripping the front of your boxer shorts and underwear. “Please. You look so fuckin' hot like this."

Her words shot right to your pussy, urging you to grind yourself against her harder. “Fuck… Ellie.” You cursed with your face in her hair, smelling the sweetness you craved. Her lips spread into a smile, hearing the words she's been waiting to hear. She nips your nipple with her teeth, before laying back down onto her back.

Bracing your hands on her stomach, you increase in speed, whimpering from the lack of skin to skin contact. The both of you restrained yourself when it came to noise—this was still forbidden. Something nobody other than yourselves could bare to witness and experience. But the squeak of your old bed frame knocking against the wall gave it away to peeving ears.

The brushing of you against her clothed clit, made her pant for you. Holding onto your hips, making you go as fast as you possibly could—gripping the fat of your ass through your shorts. Watching you shut your eyes in concentration, using her; trying to reach a high that she wanted to be the reason for.

She flipped you over, causing you to let out some combination of a gasp and giggle. Sprawling your arms beside your head, laying over your pillows and stuffed animals. Her earthy eyes glanced at them, picking one up. “You sure you want ‘im here for this?” Her long fingers squeezed the stuffed teddy bear.

You narrowed your eyes, wrapping your legs around her hips. “Nothin’ he hasn’t already seen.” Taking the bear from her hands, you toss him over the bed, pulling her down with insatiable desire. “C’mere,” You purr, bringing her down to your lips. Sloppily, you merge your lips together. One of your hands pulling up the white tank top that clung to her toned abdomen.

She obliged to your movements, briefly separating from your lips to remove her top. Freeing her small perky breasts. Connecting her lips back to yours, she groaned at the contact of your skin. Finding herself more intoxicated by you the more to she felt you, touched you, tasted you.

Trailing her lips down your jaw, to your soft throat—nibbling and sucking—then, to your heated chest; her hand was her guide. Slipping down your body before her lips did, tugging at the shorts and underwear that clung to you. They had to go! Her determined irises looked up at you while she licked her tongue around your areola before sucking your erect nipple into her mouth. Ellie was really making a show of it.

“You gonna let me take care of you?” Her voice was silken, moving to your other breast to give her some attention. “Prove to you… How real this is?” Instead of continuing to tug on your shorts, she slipped her hand inside. Her soft touch making you jump at the feeling of the pads of her fingers, spreading your folds.

Locking your eyes with hers, furrowing your brows, you nodded, feverishly. “Uh huh,” You breathed, rolling your hips against her touch. It was like you could feel the effects of her spreading through your muscles—as they tightened and loosened. Wilted flower, she was no more, playing with your dripping core. Marveling at how wet you were; it was surreal.

Ellie pulled back, sitting up on her knees. Her fingers hooked into your bottoms, yanking both your shorts and underwear down. You pouted, clamping your legs shut. She completely missed out on seeing the only cute lace number that you had. “I wanted you to see those.” You whined, peering up at her with a pair of eyes that just screamed: fuck me!

She kissed both of your knees before spreading them open, chewing on her lips at the sight of your glistening cunt. “I’ll see ‘em later.” You were so appetizing to look at—naked as the day you were born, clenching and trembling for her. She couldn't care less about the lacy number that was separating you from her. Ellie faltered for a moment, unsure where to start. That confidence that shot through her like a syringe of adrenaline was already fading.

When it came to sex, she always knew what to do—it was simple. At least with Cat it was. But, this was you she was working with. Her first love who was managing to give her a second chance after fucking everything up—she couldn’t mess this up. “Tell me what you want from me, baby.” She told, voice, slightly shaking. “Please.”

You furrowed you eyebrows, finding her nervousness endearing. Taking her hand, while keeping her eyes embraced by yours, you place her hand over your throbbing pussy. “I want you here…” You release a breath that comes from your diaphragm. Adding fuel to fire, you began rolling against her palm. “I wanna feel you…” Taking your other hand, you pull her down to speak in her ear. “Inside of me.” You moaned, airily, getting lost in the touch that you orchestrating. Pushing your head back into the fluffy pillows lining your headboard.

Her arms weakened, falling atop of you. She situated herself, straddling one of your legs to keep them open. Scissoring your clit with her middle and ring finger, warming you up before she inserted a finger into your weeping slit. Exhaling, shakily, at the feeling of your tight walls gripping her middle finger—you basically sucked her in.

Plotting your lips along her jaw, you couldn’t suppress expressions of pleasure that trickled from your mouth. Moaning against her pale, freckled skin as she curled her fingers inside you at a sickeningly slow pace. “Fast— ah… Faster, Els.”

She locked her eyes with yours, ingesting that blissed look on your features. “I wanna take my time with you…” Ellie kissed your lips, savoringly. “Wanna remember every sound, every look on that pretty face…” She kissed you, again. Deeper and full of unbridled passion. You could’ve came right there, looping your arm around her neck, trying to find something to hold onto.

Her touch lit your body on fire, and still, tried to restrain the sounds you made because of it. Sweat beaded in the crevices of you body, but she licked it up like sweet saccharine fruit juice. Truly, you believed she’d be at your mercy, writhing underneath you—first, at that! But, the minute you guided her, letting her know that you really wanted her; she completely gave in. Making you the one to writhe and call out for her.

Her firm ministrations felt like hours, adding another finger, brushing that spongey place inside of you enough to cause endless shaking and trembling. Borderline convulsing. There was such love in her eyes, watching you yelp and whine for her. Not even her sloppy, filthy kisses could completely hide the sounds you were making.

Clenching her hair in your hands, you felt your walls clenching around her fingers. “Fuck, Ellie… Just like that.” You whisper, proceeding it with guttural moan against her skin. The sound of your wetness filling your ears, pushing you closer to that edge. “Jus— ah f-fuck.” You cursed, rolling your hips against her.

Focusing her olive eyes on your face, she rolled your clit with her thumb. Making you grip the pillow behind your head with one hand, while your other gripped her hair hard enough to cause her a bit of pain. She whined at your touch, unable to look away from you. Freezing the frame of your mouth parted, making an ‘O’ shape, as she made love to you.

When that knot snapped in the pit of your stomach, she jumped to swallow your loud moans. Still, fucking her fingers into you to ride out your high. Your free leg snapping shut, clamping her fingers between the strength of your thighs. She pulled her fingers from your cunt, leaning back from your lips to eye the slick surrounding her fingers. Licking from the base of them, she sucked them into her mouth.

You watched her in awe, rubbing your legs together, still throbbing for her. Ellie was an absolute pervert when it came do you—could you get anymore turned on? She had no resolve, just like she said. You smash your lips against hers, growling at the taste of yourself. Your fingers begin to yank at her sweats, with the remaining amount of strength you have. “Why are these still on?”

“Because you didn’t take ‘em off.” She panted against your skin, falling back onto her back.

You chortled, pulling the pants from her hips. Musing at the striped boyshorts that clung to her, ogling the wet spot that seeped through the cloth. Your fingers lightly rubbed over the spot, grazing her erect clit on purpose accident. Her hips bucked up at you, a soft sigh leaving her parted lips. “These are cute.” You say before pulling them down her legs, flicking them off the side of the bed. “That’s me acknowledging your effort. See how easy that was?"

“I did acknowledge your effort…” Ellie whined, feeling your soft lips against her chest leading to her breasts. When you sucked her nipple into you mouth, pinching the other, she gasped. You hummed against her, slotting your leg between hers. She couldn’t help but grind herself against your thigh, groping your ass in the process.

Switching to the other lonesome breast, popping the right from your lips, you spoke. “No worries, baby, I forgive you.”

Impatiently, she humped your leg, panting under you as you suckled on her. Slowly, moving down her toned abdomen—licking and nibbling on her freckled skin. As if she were some sweet dessert on a silver platter all for you; taking your time. Popping your lips from her, you pressed her hips into the mattress. Ceasing her needy thrusts. “It’s my turn now, Els. Gotta be patient f’me. Can you do that?” You look up at her through your lashes, grinding against her glistening cunt.

Similar to how one would dangle a treat before a puppy—to get them to do what you want.

Her scarred eyebrow furrowed, nodding her head, feverishly. “Uh huh... Yeah,” Ellie’s breath hitched in her throat, watching you trail your lips closer to where she really wanted you.

She spread her legs for you, as you kissed around her mauve pussy. Gripping her firm thighs, prolonging that feeling of anticipation. Ellie threw her head back into the pillows, groaning in frustration. But she knew she couldn’t rush you—you never liked to be rushed.

Leaning your head on the inside of her thigh, you ran a finger through her wet folds, snickering to yourself. Did Cat ever make you this wet? You thought, sliding her slick over her clit.

“Never…” Ellie responded, leaning on her elbows looking down at you between her legs. You paused, not realizing that you said your thoughts aloud. Her swollen lips pulled into a shit-eating smirk; she was egging you on. It was villainous, nefarious even, to bring up her girlfriend during this moment. That may have not been your intention, but Ellie couldn’t have cared less.

All she cared about was how your fingers played with her, dredging moans from the lowest parts of her stomach. Making her have to cover her mouth with her tattooed forearm--Cat never made her do that. Not often, anyway.

You slung one of her legs over your shoulder, pushing the other against the mattress—diving into her cunt with your tongue. She was just as sweet as your remembered, like tree sap, and you sucked her up as such. Switching between thrusting your tongue into her hole, and suckling her clit; popping it from your mouth like it was candy.

She writhed because of your touch, lifting her hips off the bed as if she wanted to get away from you—but both of you knew that wasn’t true. You just pressed harder into her, making out with her pussy. Time was nothing but a construct to you between her legs; you had all the time in the world to make her feel good. Fingers grazing the strip of auburn hair leading to where your lips met—a landing strip.

You couldn’t have been happier, pleasing her so!

Sweet, pitchy moans came from her, the ones that slipped from around the forearm she bit—trying to be mindful. But, when you slipped two fingers into her, keeping your lips wrapped around her throbbing bud, a high-pitched shriek released. You moaned into her pussy, fluttering your eyes shut at the sounds she was making. It was music to your ears.

Feeling her eyes on you, half-lidded and dark than usual, you look up. “S— So fucking g— good… Uh!” She stammered, breathing heavily as she neared her climax. Collecting spit in your mouth, you dribbled it from your mouth. A glob of saliva mixed with her cum falling onto her blushing bud. Ellie moaned your name in a way that sent chills down your spine. Curling your hips into the mattress.

Her inner walls tighten around your curling fingers, letting you know that she was close. But that’s when you pulled away, massaging her tense thigh. Ellie sobbed, banging her fist against the bed. “You’re being such an asshole, baby. Nothing's every straight forward with you." She complained, rolling her hips against nothing as you switched positions.

Baby, baby, baby… You loved when she called you that. Even when you were the one calling the shots.

“Am I really…?” You breath, crawling up her body. Intertwining your legs, your pulsating buds meeting at the center of you.

“Ngh…” She whined at the contact, looking between the middle of your glistening bodies. “You're fuck-- fucking insane... Uh...” Ellie pleaded, words breaking up as you began rutting against her. Her wide eyes looking up at you as a grin stretched onto your lips; riding her into next fucking week.

Gripping onto her thigh, juices mixing at the center of you. You lifted her leg over your shoulder, surprising yourself with how flexible she was. Sloppily, you dragged your lips against her calf, unable to hold the sounds of pleasure coming from your throat.

“F— Fuck, yeah… Yeah!” Her orgasm hit her like a ton, causing her to shake under your quick rutting. Ellie’s eyes squeezed shut at the overwhelming feeling of her climax, sucking in a taut breath—not realizing that you weren’t stopping.

She began to squirm under you, gripping your thigh, trying to push you off. Whining and sobbing, but when you leaned down, hooking her leg under your arm—pressing your chest against hers, delicately kissing her flushed freckled skin; Ellie held onto you. One hand supporting your rutting hips, the other gripping your hair; moaning and breathing into your ear as a personal boost.

Although, she was overstimulated, she begged you to kiss her. “Please, kiss me— I wanna kiss you, baby…” Ellie babbled, wanting that intimacy of skin to skin—she wanted nothing but your lips as you came undone; just like the first time.

The rhythm of your hips began to falter, hinting at your release. Inhaling, sharply, you whined against her lips. Finally slowing your hips down to a sensual roll. You released her leg, settling comfortably between her thighs—lazily making out with her. Her hands cradled your back, holding you with a sort of gentleness only she could harbor.

She began to pepper kissing at the corner of your lips, toward your cheek. It was innocent and full of… Love.

This wasn’t for the thrill of anything but reuniting with a first love again.

Your eyes were shut, melting into her sweet touch. “Ellie,” You chanted, furrowing your brows. Uh oh. “Ellie,” You repeated, trying to get her attention.

“Mhm.” She answered, finding your eyes with her round ones. Looking up at you like you were the only woman in the world. Despite all of what you just did, there was so much innocence in her deep, evergreen eyes.

Your features grew hot under her gaze, eyes welling up with hearty tears. Lips quivering, working a sob up in your throat. Crawling off of her, you stuff your face into your pillows—trying to cover up the embarrassment that was crying after sex.

The only thrill that was apparent was your love for her. She made your heart jump and skip a beat—nobody else could do that. You thought that hooking up would’ve made things easier, but it was the total opposite; things just got so much harder because now there’s so much more to hide.

“Woah,” Ellie turned on her side, reaching for you as you hid from her. Her hands massages your shoulders and caressed your skin to soothe you. “Sex with me is so bad that I made you cry?” She rasped, chuckling under her breath, joking.

You peer over your shoulder, sniffling. “What? No. No, Ellie, you were perfect— more than perfect.” Gaining some courage, you turned on your side to face her. And, Ellie couldn’t keep her eyes off you, or her hands.

Lightly, she collided the palm of her hand with the side of your ass, squeezing your warm flesh. “Then, what’s the problem? You know I don’t like seeing you cry…” She spoke, wiping away the tears that were staining your cheeks.

Seeing how gentle she was with you only made you want to cry more—sob into her actually. “It’s just… When you leave my room tonight… You’re going back to her— to Cat.” You mutter, holding onto her wrist that connected to your face. “I’m being selfish, Els— just like you wanted. I don’t want you to go back to her.”

She scooted closer to you, looping her arms around your neck. “I thought you were going to reject me, again.” Ellie chortled, placing a chaste kiss on your nose. You rolled your eyes, leaning into her arm. “You know, for your appearance and shit—“

“Ellie, shut up. I’m trying to be serious.”

That lovely boyish laugh came from her as she tucked her head into your neck. Clinging to you like a bear holding onto a stiff tree. Ellie had always been a bit of a cuddle bug. “I’m being serious, too. But… Go on, babe.”

You dragged your fingers along her back, causing her to shift a little bit. She was awfully ticklish. “I thought we were done for good after your seventeenth— I thought I stopped loving you because of it… I guess that isn’t true, like, at all.” You scoffed at yourself, nuzzling more into your touch. Squeezing your eyes shut as if she were going to slip from you. However, Ellie wasn’t planning on going anywhere—whether you were on top of her, beside her; hell, across the fucking room! She wasn’t going anywhere.

Tears began to well into your eyes again as you clutched her. “I’m so sorry for hitting you, Ellie. I’m so sorry.” You weeped into her shoulder, allowing her warmth to nurse you. “I shouldn’t have done it… I wish I could take it back." You couldn't help but wonder what life would be like if that never happened. Would the two of you still be together?

“It’s okay… I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. Listen, hey,” She pulled back to meet your trembling eyes, still finding ways to wipe your tears. “I know you like the back of my fucking hand. You would’ve never done that if I didn’t say what I said— I should be the one saying I’m sorry. And, I am very sorry.” She spoke from the heart, as your hearts held each other—chest to chest you were; skin to skin. It was all so intimate.

A smile spread on your swollen lips, pushing pieces of her hair behind her ear. “If it makes you feel any better… Joel adopting me is one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.” She leaned in toward your lips, peering at them, entranced. “The other was meeting you.” Her lips met yours, kissing them languidly. You opened up for her, allowing her to explore your mouth with the utmost of trust. Running your hands along her scalp, tugging.

She was such a charmer. The truest of charmers—full of nothing but endearment.

“Are you gonna break up with Cat—?” You pulled back, only a few inches from her face. “That’s not a question, actually… I need you to break up with her.” The truth was, after this spontaneous little hook up, you’ve come to the conclusion of a fundamental truth: Ellie was yours, and you didn’t want to share. First dibs, right?

“I mean, now wouldn’t be the best time. But, I do plan on breaking up with her— how else could I spend more time with you?” She attempted to smooth her words over.

You stiffen, scooting back a bit more to see her. “Okay, so… Can I get a timeline, Ellie?”

The artist sighed, averting her eyes. “I don’t know a timeline, right now— after Thanksgiving? I don’t know.” A wrinkle formed between her thick eyebrows, responding to your charged words. Her tone leaked with defense and it pinched a nerve within you.

“You don’t know?” You questioned, weakly. Quickly, you parted completely from her, swinging your legs over your bed. This wasn’t going to be a mistress situation—you refused for it to be that.

She called your name, sitting up on her elbow and forearm. “Baby, don’t be like that—“

“I’m not being like anything, baby.” You mock her, standing up to walk over to the shirt you threw to the side. Ellie couldn’t help but ogle your naked frame, sitting up the bed. She even watched you slide on those lace panties she barely noticed before.

“Hey! I was gonna keep those!”

“You snooze, you lose—“ You pick up her clothes, tossing them in her direction. “Get dressed, Ellie.”

Your demeanor had completely changed; it hardened because of her uncertainty. Ellie had been planning to break up with Cat for a long time, but now the pressure was on. Believe it or not, she didn’t want to drop a bomb on her partner during the holiday’s—and they still lived together. Certain arrangements had to be made before she could just break it off. She wanted to be with you, only you, but there was still a lot to think about.

You stand with your arms crossed, raising an eyebrow. “Get dressed, please. We have a long day tomorrow-- actually, today.” You gestured you hand: Hurry up, after correcting yourself, glancing at the alamr clock. It was one-something in the morning. Ellie scoffed, shaking her head. She slid on her sweatpants, purposely leaving her boxer shorts behind—slyly tucking them under your pillow. Maintaining eye contact, she pulled her tank top on, attempting to do that thing she always did—lure.

“You can’t seriously be mad at me, y/n…” She pouted, meandering toward you. Placing her hands on your hips, pulling you flush against her. “You can’t possibly want me to break up with her on Thanksgiving.”

“I didn’t say to break up with her today, but an estimated time would suffice.” You assert. “I’m not some side chick, or— or some mistress, whore, or whatever.”

She nodded, pursing her lips, squeezing your hips as an affirmation of want. “You’re right. You’re not any of those things. But Cat and I live together and a good portion of my stuff is under her care— I can’t just break up with her all willy nilly."

“Wow, so now you’re being super thoughtful.” You roll your eyes, scoffing.

Ellie chortled. “I guess you could say… I got some things out of my system.” She leaned toward you, glancing at your lips. But you didn’t press forward, at all. You just stared at her with a raised eyebrow and a subtle smirk on your lips.

“Ha ha. You’re so funny— I’m dying of laughter.” You intone, pulling her hands from your hips. “I’ll walk you down. You have a girlfriend to get back to.”

She rolled her eyes, sliding her feet into a pair of slippers. Opening your door, you led her out of your bedroom, taking the same path down the stairs you made going up. Hoping that the creaking would cease for a moment. “This was supposed to help us, not hurt us…” Ellie whispered, slightly saddened, holding onto your hand.

You sighed, looking over your shoulder. “It didn’t hurt us. I’m just irritated, okay?” When you appeared in front of the back door, you turned on the light. Unable to leave her completely, you walked out onto the porch with her—hand still in yours.

“Don’t be mad at me.” Ellie tugged you close, placing her hands on your shoulders. Sliding up the softness of your neck and jaw. You responded with a shrug, reaching up to hold her wrists. Thumb caressing the soft thin skin, feeling the lumps of her pulsing veins.

The freckled artist leaned forward to plot her lips on yours again, but you spoke before she could do so. “Abby’s comin’ to dinner tonight…”

She paused, dropping her hands from you, immediately. “What the fuck?”

You ran your tongue over your lips. “Consider that me getting you back for; one, bringing her up to my parents, and two, not giving me a timeframe for your stupid breakup with Cat— you’re on thin ice, Ellie Williams. Thin. Ice.”

The auburn-haired woman scoffed, peering off into the dark. “What? You think I care about her? I don’t even know who she is.” She was too stubborn to admit the amount of irritation that boiled inside of her at the sight of that blonde bit--

“Don’t think I didn’t notice how you were looking at her at the Tipsy Bison…” You told, crossing your arms. “The quicker you get rid of Cat, the quicker I get rid of Abby— simple.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head. “You’re so childish.”

“I prefer to call it… Whimsy.” You sneer, sizing her up. “Goodnight, Picasso.” You turn to walk back into your house, but her hand reaches for your wrist.

“I love you… Okay?” It was spoken with an airiness that made your knees weak. Ellie was trying to words on her tongue, feigning confidence. Even though, she was still so unsure about how you felt. The slight, twitching furrow in her brow tugged at your swelling heart.

Your other hand grazed hers, comfortingly. “I love you.” The words came from you with certainty, caressing the exposed skin of her hand. “See you later, I guess. Since it’s morning.”

“Yeah, see you later.” She kissed your hand before hopping off the porch.

You watched her jog back toward the guesthouse for a few minutes before entering the house. Shutting the doors behind you, your body filled with giddiness the moment that you were alone, not realizing there was another presence in the dark kitchen.

On cue, he cut the lights on, standing with his strong arms crossed over his chest. Your breath hitched in your throat, freezing in your bare-footed steps. “I don’t wanna assume nothin'… So, I suggest you start explainin’ what in the hell’s bell’s is goin’ on here.”

Fuck.

taglist: @autisticintr0vert , @liasxeatt , @hopingforgoodblogs , @lia-winther , @macaroni676 , @tobiotruther , @anewkindofloove , @fatbootymuncher , @maiaska , @culuvr , @0phantom0 , @onlinelesbo , @bbnbhm , @lovelaymedown , @lamorenita , @scatapple (some of these weren't showing up but i hope i got everyone who asked)

[journal-three]

all the Hazbin songs are circulating around my head tonight. First it was Loser Baby, then Respectless, now Whatever it Takes. can't wait for whatever's on the jukebox next.

[crazyk-imagine]

Hi, I was thinking Jacob Black x Reader. Where Jacob was waiting for Reader to come out of school till he heard commotion in front of the school and saw Reader fighting a bully who is a guy. She has a bruised lip and bleeding nose. Jacob hurriedly pick up Reader and take her to Emily’s so she can chill out and so Emily can patch her up. The pack saw her and they started asking questions till Emily started lecturing her.

Jealousy and Pack Scolding's

Pairing: Jacob Black x Uley!reader

Characters: Jacob Black, Uley!reader, Paul Lahote, Jared Cameron, Embry Call, Leah Clearwater, Seth Clearwater, Quil Ateara V, Brady Fuller, Collin Littlesea

Warnings: Angst, fluff, Paul being an idiot, Sam not liking the imprinting, this was actually kind of cute, I think I made Jake a likable character (for me), Emily is an angel, Sam and Emily are my fav, reader has avoided making eye contact with Jake bc she has a crush, Sam knows whats up, Embry just wants his imprint, Paul is such a big brother here, love writing for the wolfpack, it's so much fun, reader knows about imprints

Word Count: 2,431

A/N: Ask and you shall receive... this was fun and totally not inspired by Jake fics where he's a little jealous shit

I've aged probably everyone sooo, Sam is 26, Emily is 25. Leah is 23. Jared and Paul are 19 (in a nearby community college) and just one semester from graduating. Jake, Reader and Embry are 18. Quil, Seth, Brody are 17. Cam and Seth are 16

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He kicks his bike stand up, so it stays upright while he waits for you to exit the school. He crosses his arms, not wanting anyone to talk to him, hoping he looks “menacing” enough for his classmates to get the hint and steer clear of him.

He knows Quil and Embry made their way back to Emily's since Sam wants them to do their patrol shift as soon as they can once they finished with their last class.

He couldn't complain much considering he was able to go home and change before heading back to pick you up so he could successfully switch shifts with Embry, which annoys him since Sam basically ordered him to pick you up.

He’d be more okay with it if you two were friends- or even talking; he doesn’t know why he was put to the job since you two aren’t close- or at least, compared to Jared and Paul.

Jake did recently find out (after complaining to the guys when their alpha wasn’t around) you’re Sam's niece and Emily has taken a light to you, thinking of you as her own daughter.

And the only reason he thinks that is because of how she treats you; it always reminds him of the way his mom took care of him and his sisters when they were younger.

Don't get him wrong, he has no problem with that or the way she treats you, he's more curious than anything since you haven't been talking to him.

It kind of bugs him that you talk to Paul and Jared more than him and isn't sure why. He gets the two shifted before everyone, but you've started talking to Embry and Quil so why not him too? Hell, you’ve even started making small talk with the newest shifters Brady and Collin.

He thinks this is why Sam sent him here, so he'll stop moping around about you and not just because the pack is tired of hearing how sad he is with you not talking to him.

The chanting, "fight, fight, fight," overtakes his sense in waiting for you and he steps closer.

He stops behind the wall of people, checking on who's fighting, curious as to who's stupid enough to fight on school property.

The fist flies to your face and he starts fighting his way to get past the people blocking him from getting to you.

You spit, not wanting the copper taste to remain in your mouth. You turn your head back to David, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of feeling like he won.

You kick his upper thigh, right above his knee and knock him down before pulling your arm back and drive your fist as hard as you can into his cheek.

He falls and cups his cheek, whining about the pain and the fact that he's bleeding.

"Talk about my family again and you'll be bleeding more."

Jacob finally breaks through the crowd and pushes David's friend away before the guy could grab you. "Back off," he growls.

The friend raises his hands in defense and backs away, noticing how buff he'd gotten and knows better to not fight Jacob.

He turns to you, smelling blood on you and cups your face, searching to find the damage, ignoring your eyes as the blood from your lip drips further down your chin. "Come on."

He puts you on the back of his bike and starts it before kicking the kickstand.

-

You unwrap your arms and get off the bike, trying to put distance between you, Jacob, and your home.

He grabs your wrist, "where do you think you're going?"

"Away."

"Just because you want to hide your face from Emily and Sam, doesn't mean you can run away."

"I can still try." You tug on his arm. "Let me go."

"No, you need to go in there and face them."

You stop fighting and he lets go of you, trusting that you won't leave. "I don't want Sam to be disappointed."

"Did you pick a fight with David on purpose?"

You shake your head, "of course not."

"Then he won't be disappointed... as long as you talk to him."

"Says the guy who fights him every chance he gets."

That earns a chuckle from Jake. "Says the mousy niece."

You scoff, shoving his arm. "Hey, I'm not mousy."

"This is the longest conversation we've ever had."

"That's your fault, you're always mopey."

"I am not."

"Are so."

"Am-"

-

You walk through the door.

Emily's voice interrupts yours and everyone else's conversations. "I'm happy to see the two of you are talking." She smiles with a twinkle shining in her eye that quickly dies as soon as she catches sight of your face.

"Oh my- what the hell happened to you?" She grabs your chin, tilting so she can look at your face. "Who did this?"

Paul tenses, Jared tries to see over her shoulder.

Embry and Quil walk through the back door and glance at one another with concern evident on their faces once they realize what’s happened.

"Don't tell, Sam," you reply, staring into her eyes, practically begging her not to tell him.

"Don't tell me what?"

You grimace and then wince because your adrenaline has worn off and the pain has surfaced. "How much I love you?" You say without turning.

"I don't buy it." He wraps an arm around Emily, pecking her cheek. "Did you cut your finger again?" He asks with the scent of blood wafting through the room.

"Uh-" She catches your eye as she glances down at her hands. "Maybe, I don't know."

You attempt to sneak away while he's distracted and fail.

"Turn around."

You pout, keeping your head low as you turn.

"Lift your head."

"I like staring at my shoes while they're clean."

He grumbles your name under his breath.

You lift your head and sigh. "I may have gotten into an altercation at school."

"What the hell happened?"

"That's what I was asking before you got here?" Emily chimes in.

"And I was avoiding it then."

"What did you do?"

You scoff, "I didn't do anything, you dick."

"That is no way to talk to your uncle," she tells you.

You stare at her, "I'm going to give him the same respect he gives me," and turn to him. "Which is none."

You exit the room when you realize none of you are going to be able to have a proper conversation and make your way to your room, slamming the door behind you.

-

"What happened while you were waiting for her?" Sam towers over Jacob, attempting to search through his mind to figure out what could have happened.

"I don't- I don't know. I was waiting and then I heard the other kids chanting, fight and then I saw her get hit and then take down David-"

"Wait- she was fighting David?" Jared chimes in with a smile.

"He deserves it," Paul adds.

"Guys a grade A asshole," Embry says before snacking on a muffin.

"So, this fight was valid?" Sam asks, wanting to understand everything he's learned within the last five minutes.

"No, it wasn't valid because fighting isn't the solution, is it boys?" Emily turns to the boys at the table.

"No," everyone answers.

"Good," she smiles.

"But this hasn't happened before? What's happened? This David- or whoever clearly said something for her to act out."

"He was talking about my family," you tell them, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed.

"That doesn't give you enough reason to fight," she tells you.

"It does when they start making fun of your dead parents and uncle who's running a cult."

They purse their lips.

"How do you feel?"

You shrug, "my fist and face are aching, so I'd say I did something right."

She sighs. "Fighting isn't the answer."

"I know that!"

"Then why did you do it?"

Your emotions cause you to snap. "I was tired of him thinking he could still bully me!"

She takes a few steps closer to you. "This has been going on for a while now. Why didn't you tell us?"

"I didn't want either of you to walk into the principal's office thinking you could stop it when it'd only make things worse," you grumble.

"We could have found another way to stop him from making comments."

"I took care of it the only way I could."

"There's always more than one way-"

"I know," you run your fingers through your hair in a frustrated manner. "I wasn't thinking but he wouldn't shut up. He waited a few months, giving me a grievance period but then he started talking shit again and today he wouldn't leave me alone."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Jared asks.

"Yeah," you scoff, "because I wanted you guys to help when the hothead is one fight away from being expelled. Everyone still thinks those two," you point to Embry and Quil. "Are weird because they suddenly got buff and had a haircut. Don't even mention the fact that Jake along with Brady and Collin are the new talk of the pack."

Sam sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "Just, go clean the blood off as best you can, and Emily will wrap your wounds."

"I already did."

"Then go get the first aid kit and bring it in here."

You walk back into the bathroom throwing everything you’d laid out on the counter back into the bag and aim for the kitchen. "Heal me with your magical powers, Em."

She smiles and wraps an arm around your shoulders as she guides you to the island so she can use the natural light to check over you. "Does this hurt?"

"Not yet."

"Okay, let me know when it-"

You suck in a deep breath through your teeth.

"Hurts. You okay?"

"Peachy, Em."

"I know you had to defend yourself today, but fighting isn't always the answer."

"Yeah, I know," you reply with an attitude.

"I'm just reminding you, so you don't continue hurting yourself. You're not like the others, and I don't like seeing you get hurt."

"Thanks, Emily," you wrap your arms around her and pull her in for a long hug.

She smiles, returning the hug. "Don't go getting into fights again or else I'm going to bubble wrap you."

You chuckle. "As long as you save me from a Sam lecture."

"Deal." She slides the plate with muffins, closer to you. "Eat something first."

The guys shake their heads at your behavior.

"Does this mean I can hang out with you guys?"

"You hang out with us already," Jacob points out.

"Cliff diving." You unwrap your muffin.

"Absolutely not," your uncle tells you.

"Come on."

"No,” Sam shakes his head.

"Guys," you beg, turning around to look at the others.

"We're not getting involved in that," Paul raises his hands, heading towards the couch.

- Extra -

"Wha-"

"I'm with Paul," Embry tells you, pulling Quil with him as they sit beside Jared.

You turn to face your knight in shining armor. “Jake-”

He turns away from the others and glances back at you, the humor falling from his face.

“Oh, shit,” Jared mutters.

“Are you serious?” Embry whines.

You owlishly blink trying to figure out what’s happened when he falls to his knees. You set your muffin down and push yourself off the stool to stand in front of him. You poke his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“It’s you,” he mutters.

You raise your head and face the others with a scared and confused expression. “Guys, what the hell just happened?”

Paul smirks and looks away.

Jared buries his face with a muffin.

Embry and Quil face the tv, not wanting to see how things plays out.

Brady and Collin walk through the door.

“Holy shit,” the former says.

“Congrats, Jake. You finally got your imprint,” the latter adds.

“What?” You spin around to face Emily. “Imprint? That’s what just happened?”

Sam rubs a hand over his face. This was the last thing they needed.

“Did we- did you not know?” Brady asks you.

“Does this look like the face of someone who’s in the know? Does it. Brady?”

Collin pulls his buddy away before you can rip their heads off.

“I think we need to talk,” Sam says, pulling Jacob off the ground. “Outside.”

You three stand on the porch, trying to wrap your heads around the whole situation.

-

“I don’t know what this means,” you tell them.

“This means, no being alone in your room. No sneaking out after curfew. No-”

“Sam, we’re not dating. This doesn’t apply to us.”

“It could,” he says, finally snapping out of his mind.

“What?”

“It- the imprint bond doesn’t happen by accident, it’s the joining of when two soulmates find each other.”

“So, we’re soulmates?”

He nods.

“I thought you were in love with Bella?”

“I was.”

“And now you’re not? You couldn’t have moved on that fast just because of this bond.”

He sighs, “I know this is going to be a lot of work, but I want to get to know you whether we go out or not… even though dating you-”

The clearing of someone’s throat cuts him off.

He sheepishly smiles, rubbing the back of his head. “We’ll talk more later.”

You can’t help but giggle and wince soon after.

He’s kneeling in front of you in seconds, searching for any sign of pain. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. My lip is going to be the kill joy of my existence for a few days but I’m fine.” You place a hand on his shoulder, “thanks for pulling me out of there when you did.”

He shakes his head, “it was nothing.”

“It was more than you know, and I know you were only there because Uncle Sam made you, but I still wanted to thank you.”

He can’t help the wide smile that stretches across his lips. “I’ll always be there for you.”

-

Sam throws you over his shoulder. “Babe, where’s the extra wood I keep for the winter?”

“Back room, why?” She asks, watching as you beat on his back.

“I’m locking some doors.”

“Sam, no!” You screech. “Boys, help me.”

“He’s the alpha, what he says go,” Paul tells you.

“You suck, Lahote.”

“You’re gonna be swallowing, princess.”

Paul has never shifted and ran out of his alpha’s place as quickly as he did today.

The others lose their minds as he runs all around, nearly bumping into the clearwater siblings as they head towards the place.

-

Tag list (if you'd like to be added or removed, don't hesitate to ask)

@kmc1989 @gilbertgirl13

[squinch-depraved]

priest schlatt I beg

we're not gonna talk about how long this took me to get to

happy national clergy appreciation day (in the u.s.) !! sorry if this sucks i was raised southern baptist and even then i sucked at christianity there's a reason i practice witchcraft now lol

hanging your head low as you ducked into the confessional wouldn't save you. sure, there was no one around to see you, but knowing that god had witnessed what you had done was reason enough to try and hide from the world as much as you could. but still you tucked yourself away into the corner of the booth, clutching your purse in your trembling hands.

religion was a something of a sore spot for you; growing up in a hyper-christian family was one way to ensure you didn't feel comfortable in a house of worship. you had always viewed god as an inevitable outcome, a fact that awaited you whenever you happened to reach the end of your journey here on earth. once you graduated high school and locked yourself into a four year program at a catholic college one state over, you came to realize that the reason you couldn't stand your religion wasn't because of overbearing relatives. no, it was the very idea of god himself. you found him sadistic, an egotistical prick who had nothing better to do than let horrible things happen to his creations. maybe it was true that most of the teachings you had heard were lost on you, that you didn't even make an effort to understand the lessons passed down for thousands of years. but so what? nobody had ever made an effort to understand you or what you were going through, why should you waste your energy extending that courtesy to a church that obviously didn't care about you?

but you know who did make you feel understood? the guys you had dated in the three years since you arrived at this prison. at least, for a few weeks, in the beginning. the first one was fine. he was the one who convinced you virginity was an outdated concept- which you still agreed with to this day, you decided. he was surprisingly "woke" about the whole religion thing, which was what drew you to him in the first place.

"my parents made me study here too," he sympathized. "i totally wish i could've gone on a mission trip instead of getting a degree. like, college will be here in a few years! those impoverished people might not, y'know? i just feel like god is totally calling me to go serve. like, 'troy, man, go feed those guys! tell them how cool i am!'" he stopped tossing a miniature foam basketball against your bedroom wall for a moment to look at you.

you smiled weakly at his sentiments and glanced up from your laptop to nod. "totally, troy."

turns out, (unsurprisingly) troy was a fucking douche. he stayed around just long enough to get into your pants a couple times, but then you caught him with the girl who lived in the dorm across from you, so he had to go. nobody ever found out who stole his clothes from the men's showers, but the videos of him streaking down the hallways while he ran to his room were sent around campus for months after that.

guys two and three were more painful than troy; you had actually grown attached to them. guy two lasted almost a year, and three was only a few months, but he felt special. and the half dozen guys you slept with while trying to get over them just added to the tally of sins you were keeping subconsciously.

so when your grades started to slip from depression in the winter of your junior year, and your counselor called you to her office for an appointment, it was no surprise that her words got under your skin as easily as they did. how could they not? getting students to go to church was part of her job. she was concerned that your grades were slipping because she hadn't seen you at mass in a long time, and the absence of the lord will do that to a young girl, you know.

so later that night, after drinking by yourself at a bar a few miles from the school, you stumbled into the church on campus and slunk into the confessional. realizing that the wooden box was incredibly uncomfortable, you winced and pulled off your heels, rubbing your feet gently as you waited to be listened to.

you shrieked quietly when a small lattice window on the wall next to you slid open. "oh, fuck... sorry! um, it's my turn, right?... yeah, i think so. okay, so, um. bless me father for i have... sinned? it's been, like," you paused as you counted back the time on your fingers. "almost two years since my last confession. oh, jeez, that makes me sound awful." you were hiccupping as you rambled, and you could have sworn you heard the faintest exhale of amusement if you weren't plastered.

"whatever, it's too late to stop now," you sighed, crossing your legs. "i let some guys sleep with me and now i'm all unpure and like. i'm supposed to show up here a couple times every week now but i don't wanna, i don't care enough about this whole god thing to waste the rest of my college life becoming a nun. i'm already worried i wasted three years coming here instead of a school where i could have felt like myself," you trailed off.

it was quiet for a moment before a gruff voice with a new york accent asked, "how many guys?"

you snorted. "9, i think," you said with a smirk, rolling your eyes.

the man on the other side of the panel felt his face heat up as he mumbled, "jesus." you couldn't hold in your laugh at how absurd this was. this was what you deserved for coming to confess at 2 in the morning.

"i know it's been a while since i've been here and all, but i'm pretty sure that's not what you're supposed to say," you giggled.

a chuckle was heard before he answered, "sorry. you're right, it's not. tell me more, what led you to sleeping with them?" at least now he was trying.

the two of you talked for about an hour, until it no longer felt like a confession and you were sure you had fallen for this priest you couldn't even see. eventually, he tried to dismiss you without giving you your penance, but something in your gut drove you to bring it up yourself.

he stepped out of the booth first, and you hesitated for a second before following him, freezing when you saw what he looked like. tall, scary, with gorgeous brown eyes framed by aviator glasses and fluffy chops adorning his cheeks. by some miracle, he also felt immobilized by his view of you hopping out of the wooden compartment- dress disheveled, fishnets ripped, heels in one hand and your purse slung over one shoulder. you were his worst nightmare, a temptation he simply could not resist. god had just placed a vulnerable young lamb like you in his midst; who was he to deny himself of the simple pleasures his lord had provided for him?

"father? father, my penance," you waved your hand in front of his face (after a bit of trying to get his attention), which had just gone dark. his eyes now looked hungry and cold.

"hmm?" he blinked and tilted his head towards you slightly. "oh. uhm," he let out a deep exhale, as if contemplating something. "y-y'know what? just come with me," he spoke gently, taking your hand and leading you to a back room with some spare furniture scattered about.

a part of you knew what was coming, and a different part of you never could have guessed the situation you were about to find yourself in. once you were alone in the room together, he pulled you close and pressed you against a wall, letting his hot breath waft over your neck as he bent down to whisper in your ear.

"god's telling me we should make it 10 men you've been with," he murmured, voice velvet smooth as it coated your eardrums. "so you can say at least one of them was a real man of the lord, hmm, doll?"

your breath, caught in your throat, sped up as he slowly, gently, tenderly took your wrists in one of his hands, bringing them to rest above your head. "father..."

"schlatt. my name's schlatt. but that's just a courtesy, hm? stick to callin' me father." you felt him smirk against your skin as he sunk his teeth into the flesh of your neck, drawing out a frantic moan from you.

"careful with your noises, angel, there's two other guys here tonight, and if we get caught, i'm gonna have to share you," schlatt warned. he used his other free hand to pull down the top of your dress, smiling greedily at the sight of your exposed breasts. "no bra?"

"i-it didn't go with the outfit," you tried to defend yourself, but he just shushed you and fondled your chest lovingly, like he really was just appreciating one of god's creations. pathetic noises spilled from your lips as you watched him admire you, a hypnotized look on your face.

"you're so beautiful, doll. wha's your name?" he asked, glancing up at your face to meet your gaze.

you stammered out your response and he repeated it, running over the name in his mind.

"pretty," he said simply. "i'm gonna make you feel good now, okay?" it was more of a statement than a question, and you nodded with a gulp as he knelt down and slid his head under your dress. you felt your pupils dilate as you leaned your head back against the wall and let your eyes fall closed. schlatt ripped a bigger hole into your fishnets and pulled your skimpy panties to the side, licking a long stripe up your folds and tracing circles with his tongue on your clit. it was hard to keep your whorish noises contained, but clamping your hand over your mouth did a good enough job.

he ate you until you were frantically scratching at his head through the fabric of your dress as you came all over his face, sobbing from how good you felt. you didn't even know it was possible to feel this euphoric, but here this priest was to show you how. once he was satisfied, he pulled away from your cunt and rose to tower over you again. he reached into his robes and opened them enough so that his crotch was visible. you watched as he pulled out his length, stunned at the size of it, and let him pick you up and position you around his waist.

"father, i'm scared, i don't know if it's gonna fit," you admitted guiltily. schlatt locked eyes with you while he replied.

"it's okay to be scared. but you have to do it anyways." with that, he slid into you, stretching you out more than you ever had been before. you bit onto him in an effort to keep quiet; his robes did a good job of muffling the sound. after a generous amount of time to let you get used to him, he started moving.

he was gentle at first, but gradually got rougher and rougher. there wasn't a moment where he wasn't focused on making you feel good. his eyes pierced through you as he rammed into you at a relentless pace, and the attention he was giving you didn't make you feel objectified like it did when the other guys fucked you. it made you feel divine, ethereal almost.

grunts and pants, along with the occasional squeal, were all that could be heard as he rolled his hips into you time and time again. he coaxed another orgasm out of you just with his cock, and once he felt like he had pleasured you enough, he sped up, now thrusting at a frenzied pace.

"when i tell you, you're gonna get on your knees and take me in your mouth, okay angel?" he instructed, out of breath. you nodded, eager to please.

"yes, father," you gasped as he reached deeper and deeper inside you with every thrust. schlatt's eyes rolled back slightly at the title and he went impossibly faster for a few seconds before speaking.

"n-now! now!" he ordered desperately. he set you down hurriedly and you slammed down onto your knees to take him in your mouth, letting him burrow deep into your throat before he finished with a loud groan and grabbed your hair roughly.

he remained in your throat for a moment while he caught his breath, sliding out once his chest had stopped heaving.

"there's your penance, doll. i better see you here for a 2 a.m. confession next monday as well, yeah? i think that's what the lord's callin' me to do," schlatt said as he buttoned his robes. you straightened your clothes as much as you could and looked up at him sheepishly.

"looking forward to it. but, uh, is there a back door i could leave through? because i do not want to walk through the church like this." you gestured to your outfit, tattered and wrinkled, and winced.

he chuckled and nodded. "yeah, i'll show you to it. maybe it could be our secret entrance," he joked.

"oh, of course. i'll knock three times whenever i need to be let in," you retort with a grin.

maybe coming to church wouldn't be so bad, after all.

[paradiseprincesss]

Ooo I have been loving ALL your fics and your robert fischer one gave me an idea… the reader is a call girl who grew up poor, he hires us and after a while slowly falls in love with her and feels guilty and happy ending for both of my sad babies🥹

pov - robert fischer x reader

hi anon! I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG but i love this - robert fischer will always be a soft character in my mind, i feel like he's just...like that. i just feel like he's a sad and lonely guy with the sweetest heart - i need a robert fischer in my life fr.

summary: as a call girl, your life was chaotic. ever since you were a little girl you had struggled with both self acceptance and self love, but you suddenly meet a client who changes your perspective of everything you thought you knew.

word count: 4,444 exactly lol

warnings: smut 18+ minors dni!!, oral (fem!receiving), p in v, kissing, swearing, mentions of toxic household, daddy issues, mentions of escorting/prostitution lol

…to be loved is to be changed.

you never know when you'll meet the one that changes everything - fate is funny that way. you don't know when they'll show up in your life, maybe you already know them, maybe you don't.

"god, you have no idea what it's like for me! i was struggling to pay my tuition. i'm doing what i have to do to get by, mom!" you scream, tears streaming down your face.

"then go get a job," she yelled back at you, "being some old mans escort is not a real job!"

"i'm- jesus, i'm a call girl it's- it's just different, okay? and it pays well. i can't continue to pay for college if i don't do this. you know a regular job doesn't pay shit." you say, your hands trembling as you argued with your mom.

the one figure in your life that was supposed to show you unconditional love wasn't there for you; but you didn't hold any animosity towards her. she was struggling as much as you were. did.

not anymore.

you hated this - fighting and arguing with her. it hurt you deeply. but, you did what you had to do to get by. your father wasn't in the picture, and your mother worked two jobs but that was barely enough to make ends meet.

your whole childhood was tumultuous, you grew up in a home with a single parent, the other one gone without a trace. you didn't know love growing up, and honestly, it fucked up your perception of the world - of the word love.

you put your all into school; it was the only thing that distracted you from your home life, and you were good at it. you managed to get pretty good grades in high school, no less than an A- in any subject you took, and post-graduation, you got into a pretty good college in your area.

you had moved out the day you turned eighteen, eager and excited to go out and blossom in life; but reality hit you, hard.

rent was expensive, and paying for college? god, that was a struggle in itself. you worked the odd job here and there, whether it was a cashier job or waitressing job, but neither paid enough. you did a little online research and came across escorting. the only thing that really enticed you was the paycheque - and my goodness was it a hefty one.

you kept this life of yours a secret - but you told your mom the truth earlier when she came by to visit you. she was surprised to see the apartment you were living in; decked out and lavish. she'd asked you where you had gotten the money to pay for this from, and you told her what you were doing.

turns out your mother wasn't too happy about her daughter being a glorified escort, and after arguing with you, she slammed the door in your face, which left you a sobbing mess.

but at least you had money now, right?

after scoring a position with a lucrative company which you couldn't disclose for...certain reasons, you received your first job. then you booked another, and another, and soon, you were a top money maker there.

with a face like that and the body you had - you were not short on cash, let's just say that. you were getting paid thousands just to make appearances with rich men - and getting paid tens of thousands to sleep with them.

as much as you loved the cash, you were miserable on the inside. money got boring after a while, it was just another part of your unexciting, depressing, melancholy life.

diamonds and designer bags couldn't fix the hole in your heart, they couldn't fix the emptiness that lingered within you.

if there was someone who understood this feeling better than anyone else - it was robert fischer.

sure, he never grew up poor or struggled to have money, but he knew damn well that money couldn't solve all your problems. in fact, having a lot of money came with more problems, he thought.

robert didn't know love - it was unfamiliar to him. none of his ex-girlfriends loved him, they just loved his money. they didn't care about him, they just cared about cashing in.

and every time he broke it off with them, they would tell him "don't leave, i miss you" - but he knew better than that. they didn't miss shit but the money, designer bags, and the lavish lifestyle.

after a particularly agonizing day at work, robert came home to his penthouse; head clouded with stress. honestly, it had been months since he had sex - been forever since he just felt loved or had any form of intimacy.

he craved it real bad.

so, he sighed as he dialled the number on his phone, waiting as the line rung quietly. quickly, someone answered and he put in his request - "i'll give you fifteen grand to send over your best girl," was all he said over the phone, quickly giving his address over afterwards.

and that is the story of how you ended up as robert fischers personal call girl - but that was just the beginning.

when you first met robert, you were pleasantly surprised. usually, your clientele consisted of old, rich men who were (at least in your opinion) disgusting. however, robert on the other hand was handsome, young, kind and rich on top of all that.

he was your best client thus far, and you were his favourite girl - not that he had any other girls, anyway. he paid you way more than any other man did, and he tipped generously on top of that.

soon enough, you were only seeing robert - exclusively. for work reasons of course. and he tried to tell himself that, too. that this was just sex. it didn't mean anything, right?

wrong.

he pushed you down onto the bed gently, running his hands all over your body while his lips caught yours in a deep kiss. today, you were waiting for him in his penthouse wearing a baby pink, lacy babydoll with matching pink panties and some stockings.

robert damn near lost his mind when he saw you in your lingerie, his cock was straining against his pants the second he laid eyes on you - sprawled out on his bed, biting your lip teasingly.

"fuck, i love you in pink." he groaned against your lips - but what he was really trying to tell you was "i love you."

he positioned you so that you were now sat up against the headboard of his bed, propped up against the plush pillows looking like a princess. slowly, he took his hand up to your thigh, blue eyes still locked with yours, and teasingly started to take your stockings off. he did it excruciatingly slow with the other one, too.

once your stockings were off, he looked at you with admiration. he truly thought you were the prettiest thing he had ever seen. ethereal. "can i?" he asked softly, his hands now trailing down your inner thighs, dangerously close to your clothed heat.

"m-mhm." you hum with a small nod, trying not to lose your mind. keeping your composure around him was proving to become more and more difficult every time.

he hooked his finger into the waistband of the tiny, lacy, pink thong and pulled it down your legs, groaning softly at the sight of your cunt all soaked for him.

"you're soaked. i can see it." he said lowly, and it takes every fucking ounce of self restraint you have in your body not to moan at the way he says it.

"y-yeah. s'cause of you, robbie." you say softly as he spreads your legs open, his mouth watering at the sight. he peppered kisses onto the insides of your thighs, teasingly kissing everywhere except where you so desperately needed him to kiss you.

"please." you whisper, and that was all he needed to hear before he was lapping up your pretty pussy. he licked a stripe up your cunt and you let out a desperate moan at the feeling of his mouth on you.

he continued to eat you out as if it was the last thing he'd ever do, making your head spin. you were moaning his name over and over, begging him to let you cum on his face as he sucked on your clit.

he took one of his fingers and slowly started to pump it in and out of your soaking hole. "oh fuck, i-i need you inside of me." you pleaded, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to release.

"only if you cum on my tongue, baby." he says between your legs, and you started to gasp and moan as you felt your orgasm approach you at full speed.

"i'm- gonna cum!" you desperately cry, feeling yourself cream all over his face as he took every last drop of it.

he sat up wiping his mouth and chin, glistening with your slick, and smiled at you dopily - he was in heaven.

“lay back on the bed for me, princess.” he commanded softly, and you oblige immediately. as you find comfort within the huge, king-sized bed and soft pillows, he unbuttoned his white dress shirt and undid his tie, taking it off while you watched like a predator stalking its prey.

next came his slacks, which he was rushing to get out of. as his cock sprung free from his boxers, your body felt like it was going into overdrive. robert got between your legs and took hold of your hips before lining his cock up with your drooling entrance.

slowly, he pushed in and the both of you let out sinful sounds. sex never had any meaning for you - it was just your profession, you didn’t know any different. but when he was inside you, when you let him into you - things felt...different.

robert was in way too deep to get out now (both figuratively and literally), and he slowly started to thrust himself in and out of you at a slow pace. one thing you noticed about robert, especially when you guys were fucking, was that he never broke eye contact.

nobody had ever fucked you so sensually before, let alone with such care. he fucked into you gently, the both of you moaning and breathing heavily, and he got lost in your pretty eyes.

he loved you - and he knew it was wrong.

it was the one thing you shouldn’t do when hiring a call girl - fall in love with her. he knew he shouldn’t fall in love with a woman who’s literal job was to pretend that she loved you and fuck you right, but he couldn’t help it.

robert - like you - didn’t know what love was until he felt you. until he knew you.

“f-fuck, faster robbie.” you whispered, breathless and feeling almost out of touch with reality with how good he felt inside you - it was like he was made for you.

“god, you’re so fucking tight. you- ugh, you feel so good, baby.” robert moaned, and you could almost hear the desperation in his voice. “i’m already about to cum, jesus-“ he stammered, voice strained.

“then cum, ah-.” you urged, wrapping your arms around him in a way that was a little too intimate for it to just be part of your job.

“how much extra do you want, ten grand?” he panted as he fucked your pretty pussy, feeling you tighten up around his hard cock.

“wha- robbie, what?” you try to talk properly through the pleasure he was bringing you; it was overwhelming. you weren’t sure why he was bringing up payments and money now of all times, this had been discussed already at the beginning of…whatever this agreement was.

“how much to make you mine? please - i love you.” he said, losing himself in the feeling of you.

you felt your mouth go dry as the words fell from his lips, and in a panic you struggle from underneath him, trying your hardest to push him away.

“wait- wait, stop-“ you say all flustered and panicked. this wasn’t supposed to happen - this should never happen between you and your clients.

he stops as soon as you say the word, and you backup into the the headboard of the bed anxiously, grabbing the blankets to cover yourself up as soon as he had pulled out.

you had never known love before, so when you heard those words, it sent you into an abysmal spiral.

“i-i’m sorry, i just-“ he stammered, the two of you looking each other awkwardly, and robert felt his heart break in two silently.

“don’t apologize, it’s my fault.” you sigh, looking down.

“no, cmon- i shouldn’t have said that.” he said back, and you glanced at him for a second - he looked like he was hurting. like it physically hurt him to tell hear you turn him down in a sense.

you felt a tear run down your cheek, and you wiped it away, already embarrassed enough. this had never happened in front of a client before.

was robert just a client, though?

before you had a chance to answer your own question, robert answered it for you. he took his hand out, gentle and soft, and wiped the tears away from your cheek.

“what’s going on?” he spoke softly, and you just shook your head, avoiding all eye contact.

“i- please, i’m so embarrassed. i’m sorry. you don’t need to pay me for today.” you whisper.

he shakes his head, and grabs a robe that he had draped over the ottoman in front of his bed, and quickly threw it on. you stayed with the covers pulled up over your chest and the rest of your body, watching him carefully.

he approaches you cautiously, and without another word he pulls you into his embrace - warm and inviting, just like him.

it felt like the missing piece in your chaotic, incomplete puzzle that you called your life.

words failed you in that moment, but it felt foreign. the feeling of being loved, being comforted, being vulnerable was new to you. you didn’t know such feelings could exist - at least, you grew up thinking that anyway.

"i'm really sorry, i shouldn't have said that." he said softly, petting your hair gently. "no, it's- fine. i-i don't know why i reacted like that." you reassured him, not quite knowing the reason behind your erratic behaviour.

"we don't have to continue, okay?" he reassures you in a soothing tone, and you let yourself fall into the feeling of his touch and embrace for a moment too long, before coming to your senses.

"t-thank you," you mumble, "i just don't think i'm in a good head space right now."

"and that's okay." he reassures you once again - he was really good at that. "why don't we just end todays session and i'll see you again next week, same time?"

"yeah, okay. i'm sorry, robbie." you murmur, and robert could feel his heart beating rapidly as you said his name like that - the name you called him.

after that, you had left in a rush (and felt super unprofessional about it), profusely apologizing for what had happened but he kept telling you that it was okay.

once you got back to your place, you ran a hot shower for yourself to collect your thoughts and calm yourself down. after that, you got into bed and fell asleep quickly, exhausted from the day you had.

the next morning, you woke up feeling groggy, and frankly - still super embarrassed from yesterday. cringing at your own actions, you felt like you just wanted to curl up into a ball and never show your face again.

why did you react like that? why did you have to make a scene? why did robert's confession throw you off so badly?

deep down, you knew the answers to these questions.

you reacted like that because you grew up around constant chaos and poverty, you didn't know what it was like to be cared for, to be loved. you made a scene because for someone who's never known love, facing the unknown was terrifying.

but why did robert's confession throw you off? why?

you sat there in bed, wondering. wondering to yourself why he would want you of all people - some call girl he ordered because he was bored. why wasn't he with some other girl who had come from money like him? come from class? why would he chose you?

in that moment, it went right over your head, but his confession threw you off because you didn't feel worthy. you didn't know how to trust - you couldn't see yourself the way robert saw you, after all.

suddenly, you heard your phone buzz beside you. looking a the notification, you found yourself shocked. you had received an e-transfer from robert of double the normal amount he was paying you.

your jaw dropped and you had to re-read the numbers in your account to really make sure this was real. in a state of shock, you look through your contacts and give him a call in the spur of the moment.

"hello?" his slightly raspy morning voice answered, and you felt your heart do a little flip at the sound of it - but you pushed it aside.

"hey, robert, it's me," you say, taking in a breath, "i...you didn't have to pay me, i told you."

he sighed on the other line, "no, i shouldn't have...told you what i did. i'm sorry, i...i've been thinking about it."

you stayed silent, unsure of what to say next, but he continued talking regardless. "can we talk? i'll pay you for your time."

"you don't have to do that, robert. and yes, yeah let's, um, talk." you say to him, and the two of you arrange to meet at his at three.

you get yourself ready, doing your hair in your favourite hair style and your makeup all glamorous, throwing on your favourite saint laurent heels with a matching satin mini dress.

you rush out the door, and hopped into your car, speeding off to his place. usually, he would send a driver out to yours, but you were off the clock. he insisted over the phone, but you urged him that you could drive and it was fine.

as soon as you got to the building of his penthouse, he buzzed you in and you made your way up the elevator. after knocking on the door, he opened it with a small smile on his face. he was wearing the usual - suit and tie, of course.

as he welcomed you in, he told you about the meeting he had at his office earlier that day - hence the whole suit and tie getup.

"anyways, i'm sure i'm boring you with the details about my work meeting." he says, laughing softly and you smile. "not at all, it's refreshing to hear you talk about other parts of your life besides...you know, the usual stuff we talk about."

he smiled back at you, but it seemed he was having trouble getting his words out - he didn't know how to tell you what he wanted to tell you.

"er, please know that, fuck- i just, i didn't mean to scare you away with what i said." he stammered, clearly flustered.

"...what did you mean, robert?" you ask meekly, avoiding eye contact. he slowly steps a little closer, closing the gap between the two of you.

"i have feelings for you." he says, voice strained out of sheer nervousness.

"don't say that," you sigh, "this- us, it isn't real. it's just like, playing pretend."

you so desperately wanted to say, "me too, i fell for you too," but your insecurities stopped you. even though you worked in a profession where you were paid to be pretty, paid to look good as arm candy, you felt inadequate all the time. you didn't feel pretty - you felt indifferent. sometimes, you didn't even know who you were.

there was a lot of baggage that came with you, but it was nothing that would ever scare robert off.

"i know what it's like to 'play pretend,'" he said, emphasizing his words with air quotations, "i've done that for the last ten years of my life - with every woman i've ever dated. they pretended to like me for me and not my money, and i pretended that i didn't see what they were really doing."

"you're literally paying me to sleep with you, robert. this is transactional." you say, trying to convince yourself into thinking that was the truth.

"god- it's not. it's not, you know it, i know it. we both know it." he exasperates, and you look away again as he continues. "i can feel it in the way you touch me, the way you look at me, the way you say my name, i can tell. and i know you can tell by the way i hold you, talk to you - the way i don't want anyone else but you."

as he confessed, you felt your cheeks go pink. you didn't realize that he was this much of a romantic - it was kinda cute. it was obvious that he was so serious about this, but you on the other hand...

you weren't too convinced. you had never received such attention, such care or such...love before.

"why are you lying to yourself?" his voice snapped you out of your anxious thoughts, and you finally found the courage to meet his gaze.

trying your hardest not to get lost in his ocean eyes, you manage to get a response out. "i-i don't know. i guess i just don't understand it. i don't understand how you could like, fall in love with someone who does...what i do."

he sighed softly, tilting your chin up with his finger, forcing you to meet his gaze once again. "let me help you understand, then."

one second you were trying to deny every lovey-dovey feeling you had for him - and the next his lips were on yours. it just happened so naturally.

in that moment, you could feel every insecurity, every anxious thought, every piece of pent up trauma and trust issues subside with him.

he wrapped his arms around your waist lovingly, holding you in his embrace as he kissed you softly.

you were off the clock, and so was he. neither of you were your personas anymore. you weren't just some call girl anymore (not that he ever saw you as just that), and he wasn't robert fischer of fischer morrow right now - he was just yours.

you were the first to pull away from the kiss, and you looked up at him with a small smile, which he returned.

"you have no idea how much i care about you." he whispered softly, "i wish you could see yourself in the way that i see you."

his words struck a chord for sure, and you felt yourself getting teary eyed again. "jesus, robert - stop making me cry." you laugh softly, trying to hold back the tears.

"i want to know who you are - not the usual work stuff. tell me about your life." he said softly, keeping you close.

and so you did - you did exactly that. that evening, you had spent the whole time getting to really know each other. from childhood memories to what you ate for breakfast that day - no parts left out. he told you about himself too, and finally, you felt safe.

you finally felt like the years of walls you had built up were gradually coming down, and all the baggage you accumulated over the years was slowly fading.

you looked over the terrace of your suite in your lace slip, taking in the beauty of the eiffel tower which you could see from your luxurious hotel room.

"s'pretty, just like you." robert says, wrapping his arms around you from behind, placing a soft kiss behind your ear. "good morning, mrs. fischer."

ah, that's right.

you were mrs. fischer now - newly married and happier than ever. after that fateful night in roberts penthouse, the two of you just clicked. it was fate, no - destiny. it was like something you had never known before, the pull between you two was on a metaphysical level, and for once, you didn't fight the fall.

now, nearly three years later, you were taking in the gorgeous view of paris in the early morning on your honeymoon.

your wedding was beautiful - private and intimate - but beautiful. it was just the way you imagined it would be; everything you dreamed of. robert had proposed to you a week after you graduated from your program in college, and the two of you were happily in love - still happily in love, and always would be happily in love.

you decided to quit your call girl job, as there was no longer a need to work anymore at all. robert covered all of your finances, never once did you ever pick up the bill with him. he supported you in everything that you did, always being there for you and showing up for you when you most needed him.

he never judged you, never belittled you, never made you doubt how much he loved you. it was like he had superpowers with the way he was able to permeate through all the past trauma you had. it didn't matter to him if you were working in the escort business before he came along; he simply didn't care.

your past is in the past for a reason, that wasn't you anymore. you were a different woman now. softer and no longer had her guard up constantly. sometimes, you felt like he knew you better than you knew yourself.

because he loved you for you. he taught you how to be grateful for yourself, to show up for yourself, to love yourself the way he loved you.

"i love you so much, honey. god, i love everything about you." he said softly, kissing down your neck, making you giggle.

"mm, i'd love to see me from your point of view." you say, taking in the breathtaking view of paris, and your new life.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddiesongfics.

Diamonds on the Soles of His Shoes

May Prompt: Song Released in 1986 | Word Count: 2000 | Rating: T | Characters: Eddie, Steve, Robin | CW: Language | Tags: Post S2, Pre S3, Eddie POV, Pre-Steddie, Pre-Platonic Stobin, Eddie & Robin From Band, Graduation Party

For a song released in 1986, I picked Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes by Paul Simon.

Partially hidden behind the trees, Eddie looks at the house, large and looming. Sure, he's been by it before, did a bit of trick-or-treating here in the rich neighborhood, but he's never actually been inside Steve Harrington's house. Never stepped foot over the threshold, beyond those red double doors.

Said doors are standing wide open tonight, inviting the whole world inside. 

Steve Harrington's graduation bash. Everyone's invited. That's been the mantra all week. 

Everyone. 

Eddie's not so sure that everyone really includes him, and he didn't even graduate, anyway. Not even on his second try, and he's dreading the idea of spending a third senior year at Hawkins High. He'd be able to run Hellfire Club for one more year, but that's about it. The silver lining, small and weak, compared to the dark storm cloud that is the prospect of another year in that hell hole. 

He sees a girl from band, Robin Buckley, also lurking and lingering at the edge of the driveway. 

"You goin' in?" Eddie asks, sidling up to her, making her jump.

"Uh, maybe?" she says, but doesn't sound sure about it. 

"You know Steve Harrington?" Eddie asks.

"Only the back of his stupid head," Robin answers, snarkily. 

Eddie laughs, agreeing, "Yeah, same."

But she doesn't move, and he doesn't either, "Why are you here, Robin from Band?" he asks, like that's her legal name.

She doesn't seem to care, just saying, "Reasons," and it's just cryptic enough that he's curious.

"Do you have a crush on Steve Harrington? Gonna make a move before it's too late and he's off at Harvard or Purdue or wherever daddy's money bought him a spot?"

"More like Roane County Technical College," Robin mumbles under her breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," she says, then turns and looks at Eddie, "just. I saw him applying to Scoops Ahoy, you know, the ice cream shop in the new mall? I don't think he's going to college."

"Maybe it's just a summer job," Eddie says, but that doesn't sound convincing even to his own ears. Why would Steve Harrington need a summer job selling ice cream?

"I don't think so," Robin says, and she's holding back. He can tell.

"Spill it, Buckley."

She cuts a look back at the house, then back at him, "Like, okay. You cannot tell anyone I know this, because, like, I took an oath–"

"You took an oath?" he asks.

"Okay, I didn't take an oath. But there was a lecture. A big lecture, about not repeating anything about what I saw cross the guidance counselor's desk, you know? I was her aide, fifth period."

"Okay, well, what did you see?" Eddie asks, because now he's curious. Very, very curious.

"Steve Harrington didn't get in anywhere. Nowhere at all. And now he's trying to sling ice cream all summer. With me."

"No way," Eddie breathes out, loving that he has this dirt on the little rich boy. Harrington's crown has been repeatedly tarnished this year, and Eddie's enjoyed watching the fallout from afar. 

"You didn't answer my first question: Do you have a crush on Steve Harrington?"

"No," Robin says, and Eddie follows her line of sight. Oh, ew. 

She's looking at the instigator of at least ninety-seven percent of the fallout King Steve's suffered, as he's holding court at the front door, like this is his party instead of Steve's. Billy Hargrove, surrounded by girls. Some freshly graduated, like the perpetually tone-deaf Tammy Thompson.

Eddie rolls his eyes. If he had to choose between the lesser of two evils, he'd take Harrington. 

"Hargrove?" Eddie asks, not even trying to hide his disgust at her bad taste, "I don't even really know you, Buckley, but you can definitely do better."

Robin laughs, but it sounds kind of sad, "I'm not interested in Billy Hargrove, either."

Eddie doesn't get it, then. If she's not here for Steve, and she's not looking at Billy, she's looking at…oh. 

No way.

He should have realized, should have seen himself mirrored in her or some shit. But he says nothing. If he's right or wrong, he'll never know, because it's just not discussed. 

"Glad to hear it, Robin From Band," Eddie says, and offers her his arm. "Wanna go in with me, then?"

And he's surprised when she slides her arm through his elbow.

Robin finds some girls she knows from her own class, and Eddie slinks off towards the pool. He can smoke a cigarette and see if there are any customers out there, so he can make a little bit of money, selling off his shittiest weed.

No such luck, it's strangely empty. Pool drained, even if it's getting warm enough for swimming, especially if it's heated. 

Eddie walks over to the diving board, and tests it, making sure it's not too bouncy. He doesn't want to take a header into the empty concrete, that's for damn sure. It seems safe, so he shuffles out until he can sit on the edge.

Lights a cigarette, and swings his feet.

The party inside is loud, and jam-packed, and Eddie is sure coming here was a mistake. There's nothing for him here, not at Steve Harrington's house. He should have rounded up Jeff and Goodie and found something else to do tonight. He's sure Gareth would have hung out, if he could get his mom to extend his curfew.

"What are you doing out there?!" The question comes, so sharp and hard, that it startles Eddie so much he nearly topples into the waterless void.

He grips the edge of the diving board, but loses his lit cigarette into the pool. Into the pile of dry leaves from last fall. Shit.

"Um, trying to burn your house down?" Eddie teases, and when he looks back, Steve Harrington is standing there, annoyed.

"Get off of that," Steve says, arms crossed across his chest like he needs to protect himself. From Eddie? In what world?

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Eddie taunts, batting his eyes.

"Please get off that," Steve says, dry as dust. No humor to be found. Which is odd. Eddie went to school with Steve for a long time, he is funny, as loathe as Eddie is to admit it.

He crawls off it.

"Just let me get my cigaret-"

"Leave it."

"But-"

"Don't go down there, Munson, are you stupid?" Steve snaps, and Eddie takes a step back. He's not stupid, but he's pretty pissed off now.

Eddie narrows his eyes, "Yeah, I have to repeat my senior year for a third time, Harrington, we all know that already," Eddie snaps, but rapidly loses steam. Steve Harrington's face says he didn't know that, not until Eddie told him. 

Fucking idiot, opening his own goddamn big mouth.

"Uh, well, um…" Steve trails off, "I'm sorry? I didn't get into any colleges if that makes you feel better. I was probably one D-minus in Mrs. Click's class from joining you."

"Ms. O'Donnell is the one torturing me," Eddie answers, off-kilter that he's even having this conversation with Steve Harrington.

And Steve smiles, "Yeah, I hear you. I think she only passed me because of my last name."

Eddie is taken aback, Steve Harrington is aware he gets special treatment? Aware of the diamonds on the soles of his shoes, as well as the noses so far up his ass they'll never see sunshine again?

Well, hell. It isn't good ammo to know Steve Harrington can't get into college if Steve's willing to tell him that himself. Kinda takes all the fun out of it.

"Heard you might be the new King of Scoops Ahoy," Eddie teases, and it is teasing, now. Not taunting.

And that must read, because Steve smiles.

"I'll look great in a sailor suit. I hope we get tips, because I'll kill it," Steve says, hands on his hips. But he doesn't look aggressive, he looks amused. 

And Eddie did that. Hot damn.

"What's up with the pool?" Eddie asks, and wishes he hadn't, when the black cloud passes over Steve's face.

"You know, Barb," Steve says, so soft that Eddie almost doesn't hear him.

Eddie's only heard rumors and gossip. That she went missing. That she didn't, and was instead found killed by everything from monsters, to Steve himself. The former seems more plausible than the latter, and isn't that ridiculous? 

"Did she die in your pool?" Eddie asks. Maybe she drowned.

Steve just kind of shrugs, "I don't know. Maybe. Where you were sitting was the last place she was seen alive, though."

"You're shitting me?" Eddie asks, but he's pretty sure Steve's not kidding.

Steve shakes his head. 

"Sorry, I didn't know," Eddie says.

"I know you didn't," Steve says, "it just scared me, seeing you sitting out there. All alone. Sorry if I was a bit of a dick about it."

And hell has frozen over, Steve Harrington is apologizing to him. 

"Um, you weren't. It's okay. Sorry I just made myself at home."

And Steve laughs, "Well, that's fine," he says, waving his arms around, "look at everyone else."

"And why aren't you with everyone else?" Eddie asks.

"Like who? My only friend these days is thirteen-years-old."

"Say what now?" Eddie asks, because that sounds creepy. Is Harrington, like, a pervert now? He'd heard rumors last winter about Harrington hanging around Hargrove's little sister, but he hadn't given them much credence. He knows the rumors that go around about himself, and the vast majority of them have no basis in reality either.

"Long story," Steve says, "long, long, story. I'm, like, his babysitter? Him and a bunch of other street urchins, I guess?"

"You're a babysitter?" Eddie asks, disbelieving.

"It's as shocking to me as it is to you. I'm not bad at it, though," Steve says, and he smiles.

"You're not like…messing with underage girls?"

"Jesus Christ, no, what kind of freak do you take me for?" Steve says, and he sounds so disgusted that Eddie's sure that's the truth.

"Sorry, I had to ask."

"Unless you mean, like, Nance?" Steve asks, brow furrowed, like he's really thinking this through.

"I do not," Eddie says with a laugh, "I thought you were broken up, anyway?"

"We are," Steve says, "definitely. We are. What about you?"

"Am I broken up with Nancy Wheeler? Yep, have been for as long as I can remember, anyway," Eddie snarks, and Steve Harrington laughs. An ugly, open-mouthed bray.

It's dorky, but real.

And Eddie's heart does a thing that he definitely didn't give it permission to do in his chest. Flipping and flopping, all willy-nilly.

He's not supposed to like Steve Harrington. 

Harrington's a rich boy, who doesn't try to hide it. And Eddie's poor as a pocket, with nothing to lose. 

But right now, standing out here in the near dark, he does like him. God help him.

"Word of advice, from one freak to another, stop saying it like that, or people will think you're a perv. Lead with the babysitting part."

Steve nods.

"If none of these people are your friends, why have a party? Why spend money on assholes that don't deserve it?"

Steve shrugs, "Habit, I guess. Won't be like this much longer, though. My dad's pretty mad about college. He's cutting me off."

Eddie blinks. That's…unfathomable, really.

Steve keeps talking.

"So, I got a job at the ice cream place in the mall. To learn my lesson. Earn my keep, whatever. You should come by, I'll hook you up," Steve offers, and Eddie feels insane. That can't possibly be a thing that they'll ever do. 

Then, Steve tries to sweeten the pot, "Pretty sure I'll be wearing a funny hat."

"And working with Robin From Band," Eddie says, and Steve just shrugs, like he doesn't know who that is. 

Poor Harrington, Buckley'll eat him alive, given half the chance.

And maybe, just maybe, Eddie will swing by to see that happen, live and in person.

Free ice cream and a show. 

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiesongfics and follow along with the fun! 🎶

Notes: Oh, these kids. If they only knew how important they'd all be to each other just a short time later.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for wanting a material thing rather than an experience for my college graduation gift, and being upset I still don't have it?

I skimmed through some other AITA posts to prepare me to write this one properly, and saw someone use the term "validation bait." I bring that up because I fear this post may read like that once all is said and done, but I genuinely am worried my perspective might be skewed. I encourage you to enter "Reddit Mode" if you decide to reply after your judgement with additional context and feel the need to be blunt.

Background context: I have an older sibling who graduated before me during the beginning of COVID. While his gift was delayed as a result, we as a family (three children one father) ended up going to Disney World, NASA, and Universal Orlando in 2021 to celebrate his accomplishment. It was a great trip, aside from the horrific humidity and the hurricane that just barely missed us. Later on, I asked my sibling if that was what he actually wanted to do, and he said our father proposed some ideas because he didn't really have any and Florida sounded like a good idea to him. My asking this will make sense later, but putting it here seems the most logical.

Additionally, it may be important to know that my father goes on a lot of trips. At least, more than anyone I've personally known. I'm not gonna try to calculate the exact number, but I will say in the span of less than a year (after the family Florida trip), he went to both Canada and Mexico for a week each, on top of additional excursions to Florida and Vegas-- almost all also including bringing his girlfriend. At the same time, he claimed assistance with college tuition was out of his budget, started having me pay rent on a part time job, and told my younger sibling fixing the AC in their car would cost too much as well. Even I know something doesn't add up here, but maybe I'm taking it too personally. End background context.

Fast forward to spring of 2023, and it's my turn to graduate college. Here's the thing: my brother was asked at least a year in advance to his graduation what he would like to do. I wasn't asked; I had to bring it up myself, and I waited until my graduation was only two months out. It was also over a phone call, because my father was out of town for at least the fifth time that year already. I dropped the hint that, for my graduation present, I would really like to get a nice gaming desktop. My father's response was, "... We'll see." Later on, he elaborated through text stating, "I took everybody to florida because i think graduations should be more about memories than what material thing you can get out of your dad."

Here's the thing: it's no secret to my dad that I'm a gamer, and I like video games. Additionally, it's no secret that a gaming desktop is something I have wanted for a decade. Even since middle school I've talked about gaming desktops and how much I wanted one. Even so, I happily played games like Saints Row III on a laptop that chugged along at 12 frames per second and took every crash in stride. I also thought that this kind of gift would be a relief to my dad, as my thought process was it would be far less expensive than taking an entire family somewhere out of the state for a week. Not only that, but there wasn't really anywhere I wanted to go. I don't have the desire to travel like he does; I don't mind taking my time off at home or locally, and relaxing with the things I have rather than spending a ton on a fancy dinner or hotel or concert.

So, naturally, I was confused, dismayed, and heartbroken. While I started crafting a text response explaining why a gaming desktop would not just be for personal use, but would also be advantageous for my career (my degree was in animation and I learned surface level coding for making video games), I also wondered why it was wrong for me to want a "material thing" even if it wasn't something necessarily "useful." Because while, yes, a gaming desktop would have the power I needed for more intensive animation projects, that wasn't really why I wanted one. But I figured explaining as such would help convince my dad why it was a good idea.

My dad ended up calling me before I could finish crafting my text, so I did my best to explain my standpoint, as well as pointing out how the specs for a gaming desktop are pretty much parallel with the specs for a desktop for things like 3D rendering and animation. He stood his ground on "making memories" as well, and also hinted that I was acting entitled for asking about my graduation present. I think I pointed out to him how he asked my older brother far in advance what he wanted for his graduation, but those details of the conversation are a little faded with time. I did end up sending my text after that phone call anyway, as I felt it better explained what I was thinking and feeling than I could say in verbal conversation (I've always gotten a little flustered talking to my dad about things I want that he doesn't approve of).

Fortunately, after reading my text, my father seemed to come around, and invited me to put together a list of parts for my computer, since I wanted to build it. I got really excited and got the help of my computer-savvy friend to put together something I thought was reasonable-- it had a really good graphics card and processor, and I made compromises on some of the other parts to lower the cost. I haven't looked at the list in a while, but the total cost-- tower, two mid-range monitors, basic keyboard and mouse-- was something like 2.5k approaching 3k. Mid range (at least, it is these days) I think, but it would be enough for the things I wanted to do.

I put the list together, and emailed it to my dad. The assumption I had, was he would purchase the parts, and then we would build it together (or I would build it alone). However, later on I went to ask him if he had gotten my email, and while he said yes, he also said, "I'm not paying for the whole thing. I can't afford it, and it's not fair to spend more on you as an individual than what I spent on your brother as an individual for the Florida trip."

I find the latter point somewhat fair considering I'm the only person who benefits from this gift, but the first point, given the background context on my father's habits, I'm not sure how much I believe. But arguing with him would have been pointless. I definitely would have liked to have had that information beforehand, but it ultimately didn't change much.

This is getting long, so I'll try to summarize the rest. This was just the first instance of my father changing the goal posts for my graduation gift. First, he tried to convince me that getting a prebuilt tower would be just as good. I did the research, and a tower with the graphics card I wanted would have cost as much as building my own tower and buying a monitor, keyboard, and mouse, and still not have been as good in other specs anyways. Then, he tried to tell me he was only going to give me $1000 towards the computer. I pointed out paying for my older sibling for the Florida trip would have cost at least $1500-- if I hadn't done the research, I wouldn't have known any better and just blindly agreed. Then, two days after my graduation, he stated that he wasn't going to give me the money for the computer until I had secured a full time job.

At that point, I just gave up, and agreed.

Fast forward to now. I'm still working the part time job, I barely make enough to put a couple dollars into savings, no one is hiring me full time, and my dad hinted that, instead of doing presents for Christmas this year, we all agree to go on vacation somewhere. Not only that, but his family in Canada just told him they're going to Mexico in November. Not only is my dad implying we should go too and I should pay a portion of my own way, I have a further feeling he may say that this will be our Christmas as well. I still don't have the computer, even though my dad has noticed how much I'm struggling.

If I had the computer, I wouldn't have minded the vacation-- but I feel like my wants and feelings have been completely pushed aside in favor of what my dad thinks is good and/or right, and the wind has been taken out of my sails regarding my graduation entirely. On the other hand, maybe he's right that I focus too much on a material thing and should redirect my attention to an experience and go somewhere to relax/get away from daily life.

Am I a materialistic asshole?

What are these acronyms?

[renova-writes]

lost in the pages. part 1

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 1,350

warnings: none

a/n: I haven't written in forever so please forgive me. I'm trying to get back into it and I started this fit a while ago so I figured I'd finally post the first few chapters of it! I hope you like it!

masterlist

You had your nose fully engrossed in your book, ignoring the lunch you had set out to eat on the table next to you. You had been itching to read your latest story- a crime thriller- all morning, making the minutes agonizing, and once you finally took your lunch break the book was the first thing you thought about. 

Just as the story started to pick up, your coworker David ran into the break room. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, Betty needs you up at the front. Some guy showed up all serious and she had to take a meeting with him.” 

“What about you? I’m on lunch right now. Why can’t you get the front desk?”

“I got story time in five minutes. Unless you want to read ‘Cat In The Hat’?”

“No, thanks. I’ll take the front.” Children stressed you out, the way they could never sit still and pay attention. You were grateful for David and his endless patience.

The library you worked at in downtown Manhattan saw a fair amount of traffic. Unfortunately, everyone always seemed to come in right after you took your lunch break. There was a decent amount of books for one of New York’s oldest private libraries and only three full time employees. Betty, the head librarian, was about sixty years old and a kind old soul. She had been a librarian at this branch her entire life and defended her books with such ferocity that she had been given the nickname ‘the book witch’ by the snot-nosed little kids that mixed up the shelving in the children’s section and ‘old hag’ by the meaner ones . You swore that you saw her hit a teenager over the head with a book when he and his friends were eating in the library. David was an oddball. He was technically in charge of the technology, but the branch had only a handful of computers and, for the most part, relied on paper records to keep track of its books. In the two years you had been working with David, you never once saw him read a book unless he had to. He was a character, to say the least. 

You had been working at the library for the past two and a half years. Growing up you loved to read and went to college at NYU, studying Classic Literature before graduating a year early and deciding to get your degree in Master’s in Library and Information Science and become a librarian. You found your job to be incredibly rewarding but also very stressful. You liked helping people find new books and seeing them get excited about books. However, you were constantly hounded by mounds of paperwork and phone calls and constant organization. During your first week, you had made the mistake of re-organizing the disheveled back room and had apparently done such a good job that Betty decided to put you in charge of all things ‘organized’ and gave you control of the library’s extensive records. You assumed that you had managed it fairly well. Housing thousands of books and newspaper records whilst still using the Dewey Decimal system, it had been a nightmare to digitize everything. The project had occupied a few months of your time but at the end of it, nobody complained and all files were straightforward and easy to find. It was all smooth sailing. 

While sitting at the front desk that afternoon you longed for the book that you were forced to abandon in the break room. Your felt stomach start to complain about the ignored lunch and you were about to go back to grab your sandwich during a rare dead-period when Betty walked over with someone.

 The man next to Betty had messy dark brown hair and a neatly shaped goatee. He wore an old Black Sabbath t-shirt and shaded sunglasses and walked with such confidence and swagger that he was easily recognizable. Tony freaking Stark. 

‘What the hell is he doing here?’ you wondered to yourself. 

“Ah, Mr. Stark, this is who I was talking about. She’s the best librarian and archivist I have ever worked with.” Betty smiled through her rectangle glasses. 

“Thank you,” you beamed, slightly flustered by the compliment, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stark.”

“The pleasure’s all mine. All my prayers have been answered. You are really going to save my ass.” 

Though you had heard that Stark had a unique and slightly confusing way of talking, you were not expecting this. How could you help him? He was a genius. “How exactly am I going to do that, Mr. Stark.”

“Call me Tony. I have a slight problem that I could use your help with.” He began, “Back when we were just starting out a few years ago, after the New York alien invasion disaster, we were supposed to log everything and do debriefs and paperwork and all that stuff but we didn’t exactly know what to do with all of it so it kind of all just got piled up in filing cabinets and boxes. That wasn’t that big of a problem but now we’re supposed to share our records with the UN and they’re a disaster. None of us have any idea how to do it- not that we have time to- so that’s where you come in.” 

“So you want me to organize it all for you?” 

“All of it, by March 26th.” Your eyes widened. That was only three weeks away. Who knows how bad it was? Still, it was Tony Stark and he would probably be willing to pay pretty well. 

“Just as long as Betty and David will be able to manage without me-” you began, but Betty interrupted your only excuse. 

“We’ll be fine, dear.” She smiled, and you could tell that she was trying to encourage you to take the job. The library would survive despite the massive increase in work that she and David would have to endure. 

You looked from her to Stark, who was leaning against the desk and smiling also, then back to Betty. You felt bad about leaving Betty and the library but the opportunity to work with Stark was too alluring. “Okay, okay. I’m in.”

“Okay great! That was easier than I thought it would be.” Tony said, clapping his hands and standing up straight. “I’ll see you at 9 tomorrow, Happy will give you more info, here’s my card,” his mouth was moving faster than you expected and words were being thrown out that you didn’t understand. Who was Happy? Did he want to meet you at the Avenger’s Tower? Before you had even realized what you just got yourself into, Tony Stark was out the door.

You breathed out, muttering a curse word that you hoped Betty didn’t hear. You stood up from the desk and she walked over to you. Clasping her hands around yours she smiled again, “Congratulations, I am so proud of you, dear.” 

“No fucking way, Tony Stark wants you to come organize the Avenger’s records!?” David asked for the millionth time while the two of you were sorting the book returns. 

“I swear to god, David, it was him.” You were starting to get annoyed. David seemed more excited about your job than you were. “I have no idea how bad it is. I only have three weeks to get everything in order.”

“Oh, shit, you might be screwed then. How long did it take for you to get this branch in order?”

“Two, three months. But I also had other stuff to do, it wasn’t like my main job.” 

“You’re gonna be fine. You’re smart and capable and it can’t be that bad. Plus just remember how much he’s probably gonna pay you.” 

“Yeah,” you began but a buzz in your pocket distracted you. You pulled it out to find a text from an unknown number “Hey, I bet this is him with the info, I’ll be right back.” 

This is Happy. 

Avengers tower, 9 o’clock, front entrance. 

Don’t be late. I will meet you in the lobby. 

[mariposa-writes]

Good Sleep - LaMelo Ball

Summary: hate writing these, so just read and find out.

A/N: This man is the love of my life (and his brothers).

It was hard, dating an NBA player. Not that it was Melo's fault. He tried to make things as easy as possible. He called whenever he could, making sure to at least check in on me once a day.

It wasn't like I made things any easier. I took a lot of pride in my job and it felt like a lot of the time when he was home, I was busy working.

Which is what I am currently doing. Its around midnight, when I hear the garage open, I know it's Melo. His team was supposed to get back earlier tonight, but their flight got delayed due to weather.

After a few minutes he enters our room. I moved in with him a 6 months ago, since I practically lived there full time anyways. We both also thought it would be a good way to spend more time together.

"Hey, babe." He says walking over to me and giving me a quick kiss on the lips. He heads into our bathroom, getting ready to shower. He hates how he feels after plane rides, always complaining about being dirty. "What are you working on?" He calls from the bathroom.

"Just work stuff." I respond, not having the time to explain. I have to have these reports ready by Monday. I'm a CFO for a major clothing company in the US. We are currently working on expanding to European countries.

Melo showers while I work and before I know it he's climbing into bed. "Babe," He whines, "when are you going to bed?"

"I don't know, soon." I answer, dismissively. He frowns, looking up at me from where he's laying.

"You work to hard. Your not even 22 and your the CFO for a major company. I worry you're gonna work yourself to death." Melo's always hated how hard I work. We've been dating since we were both 19.

I was getting ready to graduate college, when he was getting drafted into the NBA. Being born a genius helped me fast track my schooling and career.

I started interning with the company I currently work at when I was 17, the summer after my junior year. I started working with them when they were just a start up, but in the past four years they have rapidly grown and I've been a part of the process the whole way.

This company is like my baby and I'm the one that has to track everything to make sure we are achieving our goals. I never intended on working here this long, but I love the people I work with (the pay isn't bad either).

They promoted me to CFO when their old one left to work for a bigger company. What an idiot, they didn't have believe in the company and soon ours will be bigger than the one they are working for.

Three hours later and I'm still working, Melo's passed out. After he fell asleep I headed to the office he set up for me, not wanting to wake him.

I have a blanket wrapped around me, with my headphones in and a cup of hot chocolate sitting on the desk. Once I get this done, I'll be on Monday and present to our investors I will be on vacation for the next 9 days.

I haven't told Melo yet, wanting to surprise him since our schedules rarely line up.

I look up from my computer, when I see the hallway light turn on. I take my headphones out, knowing it's Melo. He walks into my office, frowning. "Babe, go to bed." He groans.

"Ok, just give me a few minutes."

"Nope, you always say that and then a few minutes turn into another hour or two and then you're only getting like 2 hours of sleep before you head into the office." He walks over and shuts my laptop, before pulling me out of the chair.

I whine and protest the whole way back to our bed, but he doesn't seem to care. He makes me lay down and tucks me in like I'm a little kid, before climbing in bed next to me.

Once he's in bed his, arm wraps around my waist as he pulls me closer resting his head on my stomach. "Finally, I can sleep now."

"You've been asleep this whole time." I argue.

"Yea, but now I'll get good sleep. I only get good sleep when you're with me." I smile, even though he can't see me. I continue playing with his hair, before we both drift of to sleep in each other's arms.

[lgckiyong]

⸻ 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙙𝙪𝙘𝙞𝙣𝙜 ,

-ˋˏ ★ Say hello to 수기용, born MAR052001, a not so aspiring model who was scouted to the company in JAN2024. He's a fresh face and hasn't yet allowed the reality set in that this might very well be his new one, uncharted land as it is.

profile , aesthetics , full nav

( Press the ♥ and I will wiggle into your DMs or add me on dc @ serachasauce. )

BACKGROUND ,

Soo Kiyong was born March 5th, 2001 and raised in Seogwipo, a city on the island of Jeju, to two loving parents.

While his childhood wasn't super eventful, it should be noted that he was pretty doted on as the youngest of his siblings. ( And yes, he hates doing chores and will whine!! )

He took up an interest in swimming competitively in middle school and continued on throughout high school and even university. He also dabbled in taekwondo and enjoyed playing soccer for fun with friends.

By the time Kiyong was 18, he decided he would apply for a college in Seoul and help his grandparents with their cafe. He only needed to fulfill the promise that he graduate with good grades and pass the entrance exam.

Miraculously, he gets accepted into SNU and decides to major in marine biology and oceanography.

After a couple years attending uni, he decides to get his enlistment out of the way. Unfortunately, he injures his shoulder during training and as a result, his swimming career would have to be shelved.

( Note: during late January 2024, he even ended up having a surgery for the rotator cuff tear he experienced. This has potential for past headcanons! )

When he returns in the summer of 2023, he gets his dream job at an aquarium as an aquarist. But the dream is short-lived. A year later, he is fired after he was discovered to be conspiring with his coworkers to place the beluga whale into a better habitat.

With only his job at his grandparents cafe to sustain him, he's had to resign himself to the fact that maybe he should finally seriously consider this modeling thing. Ever since being scouted on the street earlier this year, he's been apprehensive. Especially knowing that his parents will be ... rather confused by his sudden path change.

PERSONALITY ,

Pisces sun, Gemini moon, Capricorn rising / ENFJ

Very happy-go-lucky! Energetic and silly! Another tall golden retriever boy to add to the pile! Friendly boy swag

Sensitive, but in tune enough with his emotions. He is a little bit of a crier, but he keeps it together well enough.

He's actually quite clumsy and prone to accidentally breaking things… but at least he's innovative trying to fix them with a shoelace and some gum!

This one's for you! (misses shot)

Knows how to sew and thinks crafts are pretty fun.

Actually has quite a good head on his shoulders. He doesn't get angry easily and he is great at mediating and trying to solve problems in a calm way.

I would be remiss if I didn't mention that he has an obsession with all things marine life. Especially sharks

Total romantic with so much love to give to everyone who can hold it. He loves those he cares for so much ( maybe too much ).

Friends, family, partners. Everyone!

That being said, he is an affectionate guy. He enjoys giving and receiving hugs. It's how he recharges.

He's working on his Jeju accent but since he's lived there practically his whole life, sometimes he has a hard time.

His grandmother used to be a model for decades when she was young. Basically, the only hope for him that he will make it out of this.

An advocate against the mistreatment of animals, particularly marine life.

PLOT STUFF , I'm open to brainstorming but here's a link to his plot page. I'll list some general stuff I want for him!

customers that frequent his grandparent’s cafe or the lotte mall aquarium before he was fired

anyone who lived in Jeju anywhere from 2001 to 2019

those currently attending SNU from 2020 to current year

friends - he has many of them! even if not close

people with unique interests to drag him around and try new things

any introverts for him to adopt

he’s a great listener and good shoulder to cry on

would highly prefer any plots that we could go pretty deep into, especially with crafting headcanons and other unique interactions in their past.

any senior models or any others who have been in the industry for a while. advice would be much appreciated, as the industry is poised to chew this guy up and spit him out if he’s not careful

negative relationships of any kind are are open too

[asterias-record-shop]

Hello! For the bingo thing could you please do maid!reader with Andrew Garfield/Peter Parker with prompt # 5 or 9 where reader makes a mistake and she gets punished! Please and thank you !! I also love your writing!

—𓆩[you missed a spot]𓆪—

thank you so much anon!!

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Billionaire! TASM! Peter Parker x Fem! Maid! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, angst, smut

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 4.0K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - As soon as Peter graduated college with his degree, he was gone. No one appreciated him enough, so he was going to show them — all of them. After making billions with everything he made and keeping his alter ego a secret, the only thing he’s missing is someone to share his life with, but you quickly fill that whenever you come in applying for his maid job.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - cursing & foul language || no romantic relationships with Gwen but she still died || Peter has an alcohol problem || my poor baby is lonely :( || but you fix that!! || lots of timeskips || kind of fast acting relationship? || kinda mixed universes in a way? Gwen died but Peter is still friends with Harry, idk he needs friends don’t question it || you do like to cook and clean sorry comes with the job || peter’s spidey-senses pick up on your ovulating || Peter gets drunk and does stupid shit || I got carried away I’m so sorry- || smut, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, cumming, this was definitely more plot based ||

Peter didn’t understand why he needed a maid per Harry’s request until he came home after a two week business trip in Milan. It made sense when he saw all the dust buildup on things he barely touched, the fact that his house wasn’t actually a home made it different.

His house hadn’t been a home since he moved in, but he might as well take care of the multimillion dollar home.

From there, he started interviews. At first, it was just him and dozens of women who were either too fan-crazy for the billionaire or too bland.

That was when Harry stepped in, joining in on the interviews as Peter tried to sleep. He was really fucking tired after a night full of hero things, Harrison being his little voice in the suit making sure he didn’t fall asleep on the Statue of Liberty.

It wasn’t until he heard your voice that he was wide awake, watching as you sat down in the chair in front of his mahogany desk of his study.

His study made him feel extremely rich.

“It’s Y/N, right?” Harrison asked, his cheeks already tinted pink as you nodded.

“Yes! Yes, it is. Uhm, it’s nice to meet you-”

“Harrison,” he offered his hand, your smile slightly faltering before you took it. “Harrison Osborne. Friends call me Harry.”

“Well uhm… isn’t this for a position for mister uhm…” you look down at your resume where you had the name at the top. “Mr. Peter Parker.”

You were the first one to actually notice that, or at least voice it out.

“That’s right,” Peter spoke up, leaning forward to look at you. “That’s me, you can just call me Peter.”

“Oh, it’s nice to meet you!” Your smile was back immediately, a giggle falling from your lips as you took your hand from Harry’s and pushed it forward to offer it to him. “My name is Y/N L/N, I’m here to apply for your cooking and cleaning job.”

“His maid job,” Harrison corrected you as Peter firmly shook your hand, your face twisting. “I mean, you would be his maid. It’s a live-in position, but you would cook, clean, wash his clothes, what else do maids do?”

“I-I’m aware I would also be doing those things,” you say quickly, swallowing. “I’m not sure if that was clear.”

“It was,” Peter smiled at you. “Why do you want this job?”

“Well, I was a personal chef for two years, and then I filled in maid positions for people who were elderly that couldn’t do it themselves. I enjoyed it because I like to clean and cook for people.” You say, smiling at Peter who quickly found himself smiling back at you.

There was something about you he just liked.

“When can you start?”

You pause, gaping. “I-I… are you sure you don’t want to see my résumé? O-Or-”

“Were you lying about something?”

Your face scrunches, but you shake your head. “No, of course not! I just-”

“Well, if you want the job, it’s yours,” Peter interrupted, smiling. “So, you can have your stuff moved in tomorrow and can start the day after. Sounds good?”

He watched as you paused, picking at the edge of the manilla folder before nodding. “Sounds great, Mr. Parker.”

You have gotten perfectly settled over the past few months. You memorized every inch of Peter’s house, making sure everything was clean when he was gone and even cleaner when he was here.

Peter didn’t really eat at home much though, but you weren’t going to let your culinary degree go to waste.

So, for breakfast, you decided on making him some classic chicken and waffles with a cup of coffee and some fruit. You knew he was used to eating out for quite literally every meal, but you thought it would be better for him to eat from home more often, even if his body showed no proof of his bad eating habits.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” Peter had just gotten done with his morning workout, the savory smell of fried chicken and the sweet pancakes making him smile. “Wow. It smells so good.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you think so!” His words make you giggle, but you tried to hide your blush as he walked toward you, his body shining with sweat and the small curls of hair leading down the v of his abdomen catching your eye before you look away. “I just thought you could eat something from home because you always get something delivered. You need to give my cooking skills a chance, Mr. Parker.”

“I’ve told you before to call me Peter,” he was close, taking another whiff until he noticed that the pancakes wasn’t the only thing that smelled sweet. “Y/N, you smell very nice. Really nice.”

You paused, gulping. You hadn’t put any heavy perfume on, just a light body mist and some deodorant. “Th-Thank you, Peter.”

He smiled when you said his name, humming softly as he came closer behind you, watching as you slowly moved around the chicken in the oil. “Please be careful. Don’t burn yourself, I’m going to jump in the shower real quick and I’ll be back. Will you eat breakfast with me?”

His words make you freeze, swallowing. “Y-You want me to eat with you?”

He tucked his face into your neck, taking another slight sniff to smell the sweet scent absolutely flooding off of your form, a soft gasp coming from your mouth making him pull away. “I’m so sorry Y/N, you just… you smell really nice, but it’s not like perfume. I-I’ll be right back.”

Peter quickly left you in the kitchen, your mind slightly hazy until you could smell the slight toastiness of the chicken, quickly taking it out and letting it settle on some paper towels as you finished cutting the fruit and cooking the waffles. You finished cleaning up and setting everything to the side, preparing both of your plates and setting it on the table as you waited for Peter.

Peter on the other hand was slamming his head on the wall of his shower. Did he really fucking sniff you?!

You probably thought he was so fucking weird, sniffing you and saying you smelled sweet. Oh but just that thought made a spark run down his back, his cock hardening. Maybe it was his spidey-senses kicking in where he smelled what was coming from you, but it was naturally sweet and making his mind hazy.

He couldn’t jack off, not when you were supposed to clean his room, restroom, and study today. So with a quick push of the touchscreen in the shower turning it to cold, his cock was quick to soften as he forced himself to think about something other than you.

It wasn’t long until he finished his shower, inhaling as he got dressed and went back downstairs, watching as you bent over the table and set down the plates. For fucks sake, he had just gotten his cock soft and there you were making him hard again.

“Oh, hey Peter,” you quickly saw him, smiling. “Breakfast’s ready, are you hungry?”

“Yeah, I am,” Peter smiled as he walked over, fixing his shirt. “You need help?”

“No, but if you want to grab your coffee from the counter, I made it just how you like it.” You smiled widely at him as you put down some silverware, Peter nodding as he grabbed his mug and your reusable cup that was filled with an iced coffee.

He sets it down where you were going to sit, pressing a soft touch to the small of your back as he smiled over your shoulder. “It looks so good, Y/N, thank you.”

You shrug, smiling back. “Just doing my job, Peter. Can I get you anything else?”

He shook his head, pulling out the chair for you. “Sit down for me, Y/N.”

You do, sitting down as he pushes in your chair with a giggle. “Oh, you’re so sweet, Peter, thank you.”

“No, thank you, Y/N.” He smiled as he started to eat, both of you munching on the food you cooked in silence before you cleared your throat.

“I was going to clean your room, restroom, study, and do laundry. Is there anything else you want me to do?”

Peter paused, looking down at his watch to see the date. “Uhm… do you mind doing the study another day, please? I’ll probably be in there the rest of the day.”

You nodded, sending him a slight smile. “Whatever you say, Peter.”

You both finished up eating fairly quickly, Peter thanking you for the food and walking to his study after putting his dishes in the sink and giving them a quick rinse. It makes you smile, thankful he didn’t leave all the sticky syrup on it as you washed the dishes, quickly going through everything you had to do throughout the day.

After making yourself lunch around 12:30, you made Peter a plate and went up to his study, knocking softly though you spoke loudly to ensure he heard you. “Peter? Peter, I made us some lunch, are you hungry?”

You could hear his voice, but it was weird, too soft and maybe even slightly slurred. 

“I’m coming in!” You set the plate down on the floor along with the drink you gave him, walking in and gasping at the sight in front of you.

Peter looked a mess, the suit that he must’ve changed into absolutely horribly messy, his tie loose around his neck as he ran his fingers through his messy hair. “Oh… Y/N, you’re here,” his voice slurred as he smiled at you, four empty crystal bottles of liquor on his desk as he laughed. “You want some-” he hiccuped. “-you want a drink?”

“Peter, it’s barely noon.”

“I’m embracing-” he hiccuped again, laughing. “-my Britishness.”

“You’re not British, Peter,” you walked over, going around his desk to start collecting the bottles of liquor, wondering why he hadn’t passed out yet. “Come on, you need to get in the shower and-”

His arms wrapping around your waist makes you gasp, his face pressing into your side as he takes a deep inhale. “Fuck, Y/N, you smell so good. Don’t know what it is about you, you smell so good and look so pretty all the time, can never stop thinking about you.” He burped softly, chuckling. “Excuse me.”

You inhale deeply, trying to make sure you didn’t do anything rash as his fingers play with the hem of your shirt. “Peter, please let go of me.”

He inhaled, closing his eyes as he softly kissed against your back. “So, so fucking pretty. Can’t stop thinking about how you’d look-”

You were quick to try and push off his hands, his arms tightening as he let out a noise that basically sounded like a whine. “Peter, let go!”

“No, don’t leave,” Peter whispered, voice breaking as his fingers softly trail along the skin he exposed. “Please don’t leave.”

“Peter, let me go, now.” You whisper, straightening when you hear Harry’s voice.

“Y/N? Y/N, where are you? Peter? Peter!”

“Harrison!” You yelled out, pushing on Peter’s hands as you inhaled sharply. “Harrison, in the study!”

“Y/N?!” Harry’s voice was filled with concern as he rushed up the stairs, Peter’s hands freezing as he glared at the open door.

“Why is that fucking bastard here?” He basically growled, pulling you closer as he shot a web to close the door just as Harry got to it. “Not gonna let him take you from me like his dad took Gwen, I’m not gonna lose you.”

“Harry, get the door open!” You yelled, quickly pushing Peter’s hands off now that he was distracted, the only thing you could think about was getting away from Peter, especially his hands.

You didn’t blame him, not whenever he was drunk off his ass, but whatever he was doing must’ve been what he had been wanting to do, and that wasn’t right. It wasn’t going to happen when he was drunk and you were sober and he didn’t know the meaning of no.

“Wait, Y/N!” Peter’s voice was hoarse now that he was yelling, another web attaching you to the wall right next to the door. “You can’t leave, you can’t. You can’t leave me, can’t you see that I need you?”

You couldn’t focus on Peter and his watering eyes, his hands finding your hips as he pressed his face into your neck, taking another deep inhale – not when Harrison was yelling to get a ‘damn jackhammer or some shit!’ as you softly pressed your hands against Peter’s chest. “Peter please… please, stop.”

“I-I’m just… I’m just trying to keep you safe, can’t you see that?” He whispered, slowly taking the webbing off of your wrists. “I can’t keep you safe if you go running toward the danger.”

“Peter, Harry isn’t the danger-”

“I’m not going to let him take you from me like his father killed Gwen.” Peter’s voice was stern as he leaned forward, stroking your hair softly. “I’m not letting anything take you from me.”

You gasped when the door opened abruptly, Harry jumping onto Peter’s back and yelling at you. “Y/N, get out!”

You certainly didn’t have to be told twice, running out as Harry pushed a syringe into Peter’s neck, his fighting instinct being laggy because of the alcohol as it hadn’t worn off yet. You didn’t miss his scream as you ran into your room, closing and locking the door as you opened your closet, quickly grabbing your bag.

You had enough saved up to book a hotel room for almost three months – not a janky motel room, but a good, expensive one – besides, you would definitely need it after this. Shoving your clothes inside the bag and some necessities, you jumped when someone knocked on the door.

“Y/N! Y/N, it’s me!” Harry announced, sighing softly. “Peter’s… Peter is sobering up. Can I come in?”

“No! I don’t want to see you!” You yelled, shaking your head. “Go away!”

“Y/N, let me in, please.” Harry sighed, shaking his head. “I’ll answer any question you want, I swear… where are you going to go? You signed a three-year contract, Y/N, you can’t back out on it.”

“I’ll pay the got damn-”

“Five million?”

You pause, sighing. Curse rich people.

Slowly, you moved to the door and opened it. “Who’s Gwen?”

Harry walked in, sitting on your bed, explaining everything to you. “Gwen was a friend of Peters. She was in love with him, but he didn’t reciprocate the feelings, though he still stuck close by her because she knew his identity and wanted to keep her safe. My dad… my dad killed her. He was a villain, and he almost killed Peter.”

“So why is he still friends with you?” You whispered, confused.

“I still ask myself that question,” Harry shrugged, looking over at you. “Y/N, you don’t understand how in love he is with you.”

“I don’t care,” It was a lie and you knew it, but you wouldn’t be with someone who drowned his sorrows in alcohol. “I want to leave. Harrison, please… please, help me. Help me, I-I’ll pay you back, I swear.”

“I can’t do that Y/N,” Harrison whispers, shaking his head as you reach for his hand. “Y/N, please-”

“Will he remember what he did?”

Harrison nods.

“I’ll stay only if he gets help. No other way.”

Peter did get help, lots of it. Therapy, both mental and for his slight dependence on alcohol.

You had been with him a little over a year, still unable to do anything even slightly romantic with him, including eating breakfast. You would go to the in home gym that he had every night like clock work, interrupting his nightly work out after dinner to see what he wanted for breakfast in the morning, but tonight it was different.

You walked into the gym, confused when you didn’t see him before you saw the lights on outside in the pool. The sight of him lounging in the hot tub smoking a cigar made your chest tighten as you walked out, notepad and pen in hand as you tilted your head.

“Peter, what are you doing?”

“Smoking, Y/N, I’m smoking.” His voice was strained, frustrated as his mouth twitched before he took another long drag. “I’m not drinking.”

“You’ve been sober for months, Peter.”

He scoffed, shaking his head as he took another deep inhale. “Being sober and not having the urge to smoke are two different things, Y/N.”

You shake your head, sighing. “Oh Peter-”

“I’ll let you out of the contract,” Peter finally said, leaning his head back as you straightened and he let out a large plume of smoke. “There’s no point in you being here. Not anymore.”

“You’re sober now,” your voice comes out soft and hushed, Peter staring as you shake your head. “You wouldn’t do that again.”

Peter laughed cruelly, shaking his head. “You’re so fucking dense.”

Your face pinched as you glared at him. “Don’t call me that.”

“I don’t want you as my maid, Y/N,” Peter said, exhaling the smoke before inhaling it through his nose and letting it back out again. “I want you in a way that no boss should want their employee.”

For fucks sake, could he be any hotter?

“Put it out.”

“Or what?”

“Put it out,” you repeat, setting down your pen and notebook and slipping your phone from your back pocket, already unbuttoning your shirt. “And I’ll get in with you.”

Peter pauses, shaking his head. “No… no, you can’t, not if you don’t want to.”

“I want to,” you respond, already unbuttoning your shirt. “Put it out.”

His eyes darkened as they scanned your form, watching as you finished unbuttoning your shirt and slipped it off as he pressed the end of the cigar into the concrete, staring at your body that started to show more and more skin. You were more beautiful than he could ever imagine, your panties a see through with chiffon and soft pieces of fabric in shapes of butterflies and flowers, a soft coral color that didn’t match your black lace push up bra.

He swallowed as you slowly stepped into the hot tub, the jets getting water higher on your body as you slowly walked in front of him, the bottom of the pool slightly rough until his hands slipped into the water. “Can I… can I touch you?”

“Mhm,” you whispered, tilting your head back as his hands held your waist, pulling you between his legs. You gasped when you felt the prominent bulge between his legs, tilting your head back as he ducked his face into your neck. His breath was hot, hands palming at your hips as you exhaled heavily, holding his face and pulling him closer. “I never said you could kiss me, Peter.”

He cursed softly as you pulled away, looking down at the water and swallowing when you saw no fabric covering his thighs, his whole body completely nude as his hands trail over your waist. “I have a new role for you, darling. If you’re up to it.”

Your new role came with a new outfit and a new contract, extra pay of course. In a way, your relationship with Peter was official, and the money you made was just something you could have for yourself. Peter would have gladly given you more if you wanted it.

Besides, being a topless maid for your boyfriend wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

“You missed a spot, baby,” Peter whispered, coming behind you and rubbing your hips firmly as he pressed soft kisses to your neck. “A big one.”

“I-I was getting to it, Peter,” he whispered, cursing as his hands pushed between your thighs and teasing your wet cunt with his fingers. “P-Peter, I’m not done-”

“You can finish it later, darling,” his fingers easily slid into you from last night's endeavors, his tongue sliding down the side of your neck as he pushed you forward to press your chest against the marble countertop. “I’ll fuck you so good, baby, so good. After this, I’ll hire another maid to takeover your position and you’ll be coming with me on every fucking business trip and I’ll fuck you every damn day.”

“F-Fuck, Peter!” You gasped as he slid inside of you easily, holding your hips as he groaned loudly. This wasn’t the first time you both had fucked today, but out in the open, the cold bite of the kitchen air making you groan loudly. “F-Fuck, fuck fuck fuck!”

Maybe this was where his spider senses came in. He knew whatever you were feeling, your stomach twisting as you neared probably your fourth orgasm of the day, all of them thankfully spread out and not causing overstimulation to settle into your body. You could feel the tightness, though, the tightness in your stomach and your nails scratching against the counter.

You were thankful you had just cleaned them, thankful for the fact that the odd feeling didn’t spark coming up your fingers. Even then though, your body was weak, immediately giving out under the force of his thrusts as you groaned against the counter, the smell of lemons making your mouth water. It made you thankful that you used all natural cleaners and no chemicals.

His hand pushed between your cunt and the edge of the counter, his fingers rubbing firmly against your clit as you rutted your hips into his touch. You gasped against the cold marble as his strong fingers rolled your hips into his touch, eyes rolling back.

You could barely think, mind hazy as he roughly thrusted against your ass, his mouth hot as he kissed against your back, the coldness of the marble firmly pressed against your nipples making them harden as he pushed another hand into your dress. “Come on baby, come on. You’re going to cum already? You’re drooling all over the fucking counter, fucking hell darling… getting my counter all dirty.”

“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You gasped, screaming out as his fingers squeeze your clit, tipping you over the edge perfectly as you came.

You gasped as he twisted you around, the pool of your drool got into your hair, his hands quickly ripping open your uniform as you panted. “You think I’m done? I want to keep going baby, please, please.”

You nodded, panting. “Y-You can… you can, please.”

Peter smiled. “I’m not going to let you regret that, baby. Ever.”

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© asterias-record-shop

[ottopilot-wrote-this]

A New Year

Pete laid across his living room sofa, mindlessly scrolling his timeline. The dim ambient light and the cool glow of the television were all that illuminated his living room. Anderson Cooper, already tipsy, was telling viewers there were mere minutes before the ball would start its descent, ushering in the new year.

Yeah, except the ball dropped three hours ago, Pete thought. Live, my ass. Just hurry up so I can go to bed.

He was startled by a sudden knock at the door. Suspiciously, he rose from the couch. Who would be out in this shitty weather at this time of night?

"Pete? Pete, you there?" a woman's muffled voice called out. Pete turned on the outside light and looked out the peephole. It was tough to make out anything, but there was a young woman outside, alone, holding the handle of a hardsided suitcase, huddled in the rain.

Slowly, he opened the door and looked at his midnight visitor. His first impression was she looked like she went swimming in her clothes. Her jeans and her hoodie were saturated, and her dyed red hair was matted against her fair skin. She looked up, her sad brown eyes meeting his, and his heart skipped a beat.

"Hiya, Petey," she said, with a wan smile.

Pete hadn't seen Ronnie since the summer after graduation. He remembered that day vividly. It was a typical scorching summer day in the valley. They had gone out for burgers because he had said he needed to talk to her about something important. He was leaving for Irvine in thirteen days. She wore a tank top and short jean cutoffs, her soft curves barely contained by the threadbare fabric.

That was the day he told her he had been in love with her since the eighth grade.

The woman in front of him seemed to have aged two decades, even though it had only been six years. Dark circles hung under her eyes. Her ebullient personality was replaced with a world-weary cynicism. She looked like she was a day removed from a good meal, and twice as long from restful sleep. It was like seeing the ghost of his former teenage crush.

"If you'd let me in, you can keep staring, but at least we'll both be dry," she said, sardonically.

Pete snapped out of his trance. "Oh, uh, my bad. Yeah, Ronnie, come on in." He gestured to the couch. "Have a seat." He thought to get her a clean towel, but sheepishly realized he didn't have one. "Uh, can I get you a drink? I have a couple of beers..."

Ronnie left the suitcase and her Vans at the entryway. "No, I don't drink... anymore," she said, a frown appearing on her face. "I'll take a water. Tea, if you have it?"

Pete handed her a clean dish towel, which she used to tousle her hair. "Sure. Hot tea. Makes sense. Coming up."

Pete filled up two coffee mugs with water and stuck them in the microwave. "Sorry, this is quite a surprise. What brings you here in this storm?"

Seated on the leather couch, Ronnie shivered in her damp clothes. "Flight got cancelled. Fucking podunk regional airport. My parents dropped me off at the airport, then left for Mexico. They didn't think to trust their adult daughter with a key to their house, I guess," she said with a self-deprecating laugh. "Anyway, I thought of you and I... I wanted to see what you were up to."

Pete handed Ronnie a red coffee mug and a Ziploc baggie of teabags. "I stole these from hotels, take your pick," he said with a nervous laugh. He sat across from her in an easy chair, a UC Irvine coffee mug in his hands.

Ronnie picked out a black tea and dunked it into her mug. "Where's the 'rents, Petey?" she asked, her cold lithe fingers curled around the warm ceramic.

Pete smirked. "Divorced. Dad took a new job in Chicago. Mom got the house, but... there were too many memories here for her. She lives in Sacramento, has a new boyfriend. I moved here after college, and I teaching algebra at the high school. On my own here, but you know me, I've always been happy in my own company."

Ronnie took a sip of tea. "You used to talk about leaving that shithole and never coming back, and now you teach there. Bang up job there, chief."

Pete shifted in his seat and changed the subject. "What are you up to, Ronnie? No one's heard from you. No socials or anything," he said, his tone slightly accusatory.

"I work retail, getting treated like shit for a meager wage, it's exciting stuff," she deadpanned. "I'm taking some classes at a community college. Guess things didn't turn out like either of us expected," Ronnie mused, her voice tinged with sadness. "As for socials, people curating their lives, showing you the good times and keeping the bad times in their drafts... nah, I wasn't interested in that."

Awkward silence filled the space. Ronnie looked down into her tea, while Pete looked at the television, the big moment approaching. On the wall, a large antique clock ticked crisply, the sound reverberating through the quiet room. Finally, Pete spoke softly. "Listen, Ronnie... I'm sorry. About Marcus."

Ronnie flinched, lowering the mug from her face, which was drained of color. "Don't, Pete," her words came terse and halted. "Don't you fucking dare." Her words hung in the uncomfortable silence, the atmosphere rife with unsaid apologies. Ronnie glared across her mug, her eyes full of anger and hurt. Her eyes darted to the clock, relentlessly ticking away, and back to Pete. "I called you. I called you and you didn't pick up, didn't call back."

Pete sighed, leaning back in his chair, rolling his eyes and looking away. "I didn't know, Ronnie," he said defensively. "How was I supposed to know? You ghosted me, I had a broken heart..."

Ronnie slammed the mug on the coffee table, splashing hot water onto her hand and startling Pete. "Don't make excuses, Peter," she growled, her fiery eyes brimming with tears. "You felt the need to unburden yourself about your feelings because you were leaving. What did you think was going to happen, I was going to leave him for you? I was in love! You left me to deal with that.

"Then Marcus died, senselessly I might add, because he was reckless, and stupid. I was eighteen fucking years old, Peter! I lost my best friend and my boyfriend and I had nothing. I was getting drunk every night, I was broken, and I fucking needed you! I thought we were friends!"

On the television, New Yorkers were excitedly cheering in anticipation of the new year. On the wall, seconds ticked away on the clock. Outside, the wind howled and sheets of rain batted against the windows, as the intensity of the storm seemed to match the tension in the living room.

Pete sunk into the chair. She was right, after all. He had been so wrapped up in his own emotions he wasn't there for her in her time of need. Even after he knew the truth weeks later, he couldn't work up the nerve to call and apologize. He had been holding onto that guilt for years, and knowing Ronnie started drinking only made it worse. He wanted badly to apologize, to grovel for her forgiveness, but his throat was tight and he couldn't find the words. Any of them.

Ronnie fumed on the couch, tears streaming down her face. "You're not going to say anything?" she yelled incredulously. She shook her head, fighting the urge to lose her composure even more. Pete sat in silence, frozen, swallowing hard. Ronnie rose from the couch. "This was a mistake," she whispered, her voice quivering. "I'm sorry I spoiled your New Year's party of one."

Ronnie stormed to the door, fumbling with her soggy shoes, and grabbed her suitcase. "Goddammit Ronnie," Pete finally stammered, rising from the chair. "You can't go out there in that storm."

Ronnie turned to face Pete, her beautiful face a canvas of hurt and disappointment. "Watch me. Goodbye, Petey," she said softly. And with a slam of the door, she was gone.

Pete stood there stunned, his breaths shaky and uneven. His body felt cold, as if the blood had run out of his body. Different emotions - anger, at himself; guilt, sorrow, regret - flooded his mind, which screamed at his body to go after her even as he stood motionless. Time seemed to slow to a crawl.

Pete looked at a couple, two men, on his television. They were kissing, their first of the new year, as confetti fell around them. Surrounded by thousands, they shared an intimate moment as if they were the only ones in Times Square, their joy and love evident to an audience of millions.

The clock ticked on the wall, capturing Pete's attention. The ornate wall clock, a gift from his uncle to his parents for their wedding. The clock had outlived the marriage, its constant and unyielding ticking echoing through the silent room. A mocking testament to time lost, and the fragility of relationships.

Another couple on the television, this time a man and woman, but their body language was different than the gay couple. They were clearly old friends, platonic and familiar, hugging each other in the cold, jumping up and down excitedly. Content to be in each other's company, sharing a connectedness that Pete had not had in some time, as he stood alone, looking around his solitary home.

Outside, Ronnie cursed her stupidity, the downpour covering her tears, as she walked away from Pete's house. She had been so foolish, exposing herself to get hurt again. He had clearly learned nothing, and neither had she.

"Ronnie! Wait!" she heard Pete's voice in the night, over the wind. He's out of his goddamned mind if he thinks I'm stopping, she thought, continuing to walk away, her head down, with no destination in mind.

Pete ran after Ronnie in the downpour, which quickly soaked through his white t-shirt and pajama pants, as his flip-flops splashed on the sidewalk. Chilled to the bone, his breath coming in gasps, he yelled again, "Ronnie! Please...I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. Please come inside."

Hearing his apology, Ronnie stopped. She spun around, water dripping off her bangs into her eyes. "Why? You want to kick me when I'm down, Pete?" she said, raw and vulnerable. "Give me one good reason why I should open myself up to more pain tonight."

The rain ran down Pete's face in the streetlight, and Ronnie could not tell if he had also been crying. "Because it's a new year, Ronnie. Because I don't want to be alone tonight. I'm tired of being alone and isolated, and so are you, or you wouldn't have come here. Let's start over, you and I, and try to rediscover what we used to have before I fucked it all up."

Pete extended his hand, the palm shining in the light as Ronnie looked at it. "Let's get out of the rain, Ronnie. We've both been lonely for too long."

Ronnie looked at his hand, then into his eyes. No longer burning with rage and hurt, the look on her face was filled with uncertainty, as she took a step forward. "I didn't come here to sleep with you, Peter," she whispered, her eyes looking away.

"I'm not asking you to," Pete said warmly. "I'm asking you to come in from this storm and give me a chance to make everything up to you."

"What does that even mean, Pete?"

"Tonight, it just means I let you take a hot shower and sleep in my bed while I sleep on the couch. It means hitting the reset button on our friendship." Pete smiled again, tears forming in his blue eyes. "I miss my friend, Ronnie."

Bypassing the outstretched hand, Ronnie threw her arms around Pete, embracing him. For the first time in years, their bodies were in contact with each other, and Pete sighed as he tightly wrapped his forearms around Ronnie's torso, as she heaved with sobs. "I missed you too, you fucking idiot," she cried.

Gently, Pete kissed Ronnie on the cheek in the rain. "Happy New Year, Ronnie."

---

Pete stood in the doorway of his bedroom, dressed in a fresh, dry shirt and pajama bottoms. With the hum of the clothes dryer in the background, he watched Ronnie sleep in his bed. Relaxed and in peaceful slumber, her face no longer carried the weight and anxiety from earlier, and she reminded Pete of the young girl he fell for a decade prior.

Pete closed the bedroom door and made his way to the living room couch. He thought about the serendipitous events of the night, and reflected on the conversations they had before bed. God, how he had missed hearing her true laughter. As he laid he head on a couch cushion and pulled a throw blanket over himself, he considered that he didn't know what the future held for him and Ronnie. But maybe it was true that a new year meant a clean slate, and an opportunity to start anew.

As he drifted off to sleep, the wall clock ticked the seconds away, but he paid it no attention.

[shingekinohyrulewrites]

& They Were Roommates

Armin Arlert is in need of a roommate, and you just so happen to need a place to live. For some reason you cannot figure out, his best friend, Eren Jaeger, has a problem with you.

Read on AO3 here

SMUT AHEAD, MDNI, 18+ ONLY, CONTENT WARNINGS FOR :

Couch Sex, Unprotected Sex, Spitting, Creampie

Armin Arlert is an accomplished man.

After graduating as valedictorian in both high school and college, he decided to continue on with his higher education by going on to graduate school. With his Molecular Biology Bachelors Degree under his belt, he was moving on to get his Masters and, sometime in the future, his PhD. His alma mater, Eldia University, offered a great graduate program, and he decided to continue his education there.

He had been living in the same off-campus apartment since his freshman year. Since he excelled in high school, his tuition and living expenses were paid for, which meant he had his pick for where he wanted to live. Wanting to have the “real” college experience, he opted to choose a two bedroom apartment two miles from campus, and he took the bus to commute to class.

Annie Leonhart stumbled into his life during his second semester. They were both taking Chemistry, and they had been assigned as lab partners. Despite her stern demeanor, Armin managed to break through, and the two began dating halfway through the semester. Sophomore year she moved into his apartment, the extra bedroom being converted into a guest room. They graduated together, and she also decided to pursue a graduate degree like her boyfriend. Their first year was stressful, navigating much more difficult, specialized classes while balancing a job at the local pharmaceutical company.

Over the summer, Annie was presented with the opportunity to study in her family’s native country, Russia. Despite safety concerns, the top pharmaceutical company there had offered a chance for her to work there, gain experience, and attend classes at the local prestigious university.

It was a chance she couldn’t refuse.

However, this left Armin with a conundrum. Now that he was in graduate school, only his tuition was covered. Given that he was expected to have a job, his living expenses were now up to him. Since he had chosen a rather swanky apartment, he knew he would need some help with paying for the rent. He put out an ad in the university’s newspaper, hoping that a fellow student would be willing to reside with him.

The week before Annie was set to leave, Armin’s best friend, Eren Jaeger, heard about his situation and stopped by. The two had been best friends since they were kids, and he wanted to see if he could help out somehow.

“Hey, why don’t you let me move in?”

Armin’s nose had scrunched up, which immediately annoyed Eren.

“What’s wrong with me?” he asked, frowning deeply.

“No offense, Eren, but I need someone who is just as studious as me. I can’t afford any distractions right now.”

Eren opened his mouth to argue, but Armin held up a hand to silence him.

“Look, you’ve been done with school. You work as a personal trainer. You don’t have a set schedule, so you would be coming and going at unpredictable times. I need consistency.”

For some reason, Eren decided to take this personally.

He currently lived at home with his parents and half-brother, Zeke. Although he made good money as a personal trainer, it was hard to find an affordable place that he could afford by himself. He had been hoping that this would be a chance to finally move out, and the thought of living with his best friend made him excited.

“Why don’t you help me vet roommate options? I know it’s not moving in, but at least you have an idea of who you would see when you come hang out.”

For the next week, Armin arranged “interviews” when the both of them were free. They interviewed both undergraduate and graduate students, with Armin asking the questions while Eren studied them quietly. Unbeknownst to the blond, Eren was fuming. He hated every single option, finding stupid reasons for Armin to reject them. He had decided that, regardless of who Armin decided to go with, he would hate whoever his roommate ended up being.

Two days before Annie’s flight, Armin was freaking out. He still hadn’t found a suitable roommate, and Eren had been no help. The responses to the ad were basically zero now, and Armin hadn’t heard from friends about anyone who may need a room.

Then you showed up.

A mutual friend of yours who had a few classes with Armin had casually mentioned he needed a roommate, and you had immediately jumped them for details. You were finishing up your Masters Thesis, jumping between meetings with your advisor and your job. However, your roommate had dropped out, the stress of graduate school causing a nervous breakdown, leaving you essentially homeless.

Your friend gave you his contact information, and the two of you arranged to meet the day before Annie’s flight. You were greeted by him, relieved that he seemed kind. He introduced his best friend, Eren, who regarded you sternly. The both of you toured the apartment, with Armin explaining the amenities and breaking down the bills. He asked about your schedule, and was pleased to see that it essentially aligned with his. You both conversed about your respective Masters programs, and he had a feeling the two of you would get along great.

“How soon can you move in?”

“I can move in tomorrow!” you excitedly said.

“Sold!”

Eren watched the exchange with a scowl, rolling his eyes as Armin went over the lease paperwork and how to get a copy of the keys. The next morning, you moved in, settling into the second bedroom before leaving for work. The two of you had decided to go out for dinner to better get to know each other. Armin had dropped off Annie that morning, which meant he had time for you that night.

You immediately admired Armin. It was evident he was a hard worker, and you listened intently as he talked about the difficulties of his program and his job. You asked about his study habits, and were pleased to hear they were similar to yours. The two of you had similar personalities and senses of humor, and a part of you predicted that you would be getting along very well.

It took one week to fall into a routine. Since your schedules were almost the same, you were up at the same time, sharing a quick dinner before running out the door. Twice a week, your lunch time aligned, so you met for lunch. You would usually get home before him, which allowed you time to relax a bit before you started dinner just as he was getting home. He would ask about your day as you ate before watching a bit of TV and retiring to bed.

Eren came over the week after. It was Friday, and Armin had suggested a movie night. You had happily agreed, hoping to get to know Eren better. Armin talked about him often, letting you know that they had been friends since they were kids and that he had always been super protective of the blond.

“I was usually a target for the neighborhood kids,” he had admitted sheepishly.

You had offered to pay for the pizza that evening, and you asked Eren what he wanted on his. He shrugged, saying pepperoni was fine. His aloof personality put you off a bit, but you figured you were still a stranger to him, so he was weary.

While you waited for the food, Armin and Eren caught up. You sat to the side, scrolling through your phone silently while you quietly observed Eren. It was hard not to notice how attractive he was - he looked like he could be a model. His long, brown hair was pulled into a messy bun, just like the first time you had met him. A few pieces had slipped out, framing his face. Thick, dark eyebrows sloped over a pair of expressive turquoise eyes, who often eyed you with suspicion. His nose was slender but rounded at the tip, above a pair of full lips. Your eyes traced the sharp line of his jaw, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

The sound of someone knocking at the door pulled you from your thoughts.

Armin sat in between you two, eyes fixed on the TV screen. Eren hadn’t said a single word to you beyond thanks for paying for the pizza. For some reason, it really bothered you.

Meanwhile, Eren was absolutely annoyed with you. Armin had been gushing about you over text, going on and on about how you were essentially a perfect roommate. The two of you got along great, and his studies weren’t interrupted. When he had invited him over, Eren was intent on saying “thanks, but no thanks.” But Armin had mentioned how it was so important for them to get along, and Eren couldn’t say no to that.

His eyes watched you from the side. Your eyes kept flicking between the plate on your lap and the screen. You were wearing a thin tee shirt and sweats, your hair messily braided. Armin had mentioned you had been busier than usual with work that week, which explained your tired appearance. You weren’t cute or whatever.

That movie night opened a door. Eren came and went as he pleased, stopping by to hang out with Armin. Sometimes you cooked an extra plate for him. Other times, him and Armin went out for dinner, leaving you alone. He still kept you at arm’s length, never greeting you past a nod. Armin tried to push him to open up, but you saw how hard Eren resisted.

“It really wouldn’t kill you to get to know her.”

It had been a month since you moved in. The two were currently sitting in a booth at the local diner, waiting for their burgers. Eren rolled his eyes, taking a long sip of his drink.

“She’s really nice. I mean, she goes out of her way to include you at dinner and stuff.”

“Have you considered that she might be trying to break you and Annie up?”

Armin, bewildered, stared at Eren.

“What?”

“I mean, she’s pretty cozy with you.”

“You’re joking, right?”

The waitress brought their food then. Eren immediately began eating, keeping his eyes low as Armin continued to stare at him.

“She’s met Annie. I introduced her the first time I Facetimed her.”

Eren ignored him, keeping on with his meal.

“She’s given me advice on how to deal with a long-distance relationship. I don’t think anyone who wants to break up a relationship would do that.”

When he saw that Eren wasn’t going to respond, he sighed and picked up his burger. The rest of their meal was silent, with Armin dropping Eren off before returning home. Eren lay in bed, arms behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. What was it about you that bothered him so much?

You’re obviously trying to take Armin away from me.

He scowled, turning on his side. That had to be the reason. You knew how close the two of them were, and you wanted to pull Armin away. That had to be it. He saw how chummy the two of you were, and he figured you were just nice to him out of sympathy.

Whatever.

He rolled over to his other side, letting out a long sigh.

It had nothing to do with how hot he thought you were.

***

It was the first week of June, which meant the heat was starting to kick in.

The last week of classes was fast approaching, and you and Armin were thankful to have some reprieve before the Fall. Annie was set to return in mid-July, and you were excited to meet her. The couple had agreed to let you stay for the next school year, with all three of you set to graduate next June.

Armin’s week was chaotic, with back to back exams, as well as meetings with his thesis mentor. You, on the other hand, had it slightly easier, as you were taking one elective. Your final paper had been finished last week, as you had wanted to get an extra week to relax. Your boss had also been kind enough to give you Finals week off, which meant you had a week to do nothing.

Eren had been told about the end of the semester, and he realized he would have more time to spend with Armin. Normally, he would text him to give him a heads up, but he figured Armin would be home, so he stopped by. He whistled a tune as he walked up to your building, letting himself in with the gate code and climbing the stairs to your unit. Armin had given him a spare key for emergencies, so Eren let himself in.

The apartment was silent, sunlight streaming through the open windows. Normally, Armin would do his work at the dining room table, since it gave him the space he needed. Instead, it sat empty. Eren listened for any sounds coming from his room, but the entire place was silent.

“Armin?” he called, but no one responded.

He waited a minute, but figured that neither of you were home. Shrugging, he kicked off his shoes and left them by the door before laying down on the couch. He figured he could hang out while he waited for Armin to come home. The two of them could probably grab some dinner then.

Unbeknownst to him, you were home. You had slept in, going for a run before coming back and taking a shower. The heat, plus the exhaustion from working out, made you sleepy, and you decided to take a nap. It was still hot in your apartment, so you climbed into bed naked and fell asleep. When you woke up, you were feeling better but still feeling warm. You used the towel beside you to wipe some sweat before standing up and stretching.

Armin had texted you that he was working overtime, so not to worry about dinner for him. You had texted back you would order something for him, and he had sent you his order along with a smiling emoji. The apartment was yours, and you figured it wouldn’t hurt to walk around naked and pour yourself a cold glass of iced tea.

The apartment was filled with sun, and you made a mental note to shut the blinds to try and cool the place down. You yawned, pausing to stretch again in the living room. Your joints popped, satisfaction flooding you at the sound.

“Holy shit.”

You jumped, head whipping around towards the voice. Eren was sitting on your couch, eyes wide as he took in your very naked figure. You could feel your cheeks burning, and looked around desperately to cover yourself.

“What are you doing here?” you squeaked.

He didn’t reply, still staring at you.

“EREN!”

He jumped, shaking his head before hesitantly turning his head away.

“I, uh, thought Armin would be home. He told me you’re almost done with school.”

“Why didn’t you text him?!”

He shrugged.

“Oh my god, I am going to kill you.”

“Look, you’re really distracting. Can you put some clothes on?”

“This is my home! I have the right to be naked if I want to!”

He didn’t respond, his eyes continuing to take in every single curve. 

“Get out!”

Instead of listening to you, Eren stood up. He slowly strode over to you, and you backed up until you were pressed against the wall. The cool sensation had you relaxing slightly, the heat flaring through your body going down. One of Eren’s hands came to rest beside your head while the other came to rest gently on your waist.

“You have been such a fucking pain in my ass.”

You narrowed your eyes at his words and opened your mouth to argue with him but he shook his head, the hand on your waist coming up to cover your lips.

“Now, here you are, walking around naked as if to punish me.”

A dark chuckle escaped him as he shook his head.

“Were you just waiting for your chance to tease me like this?”

You shook your head as you narrowed your eyes further.

“Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me and I’ll stop.”

You hesitated, and he immediately took note of this.

“Oh, look at you, naughty girl.”

A quiet whine was muffled against his hand. He chuckled again, removing his hand and placing it carefully back on your waist.

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

You looked up at him, all the times he had been dismissive of you the past few months playing in your head. He cocked his head to the side, waiting for your response.

Fuck it.

You stood on your toes, gripping the back of his neck to pull him towards you. His lips met yours messily, your lips pressing against his as he sighed, allowing your tongue to slip in. The hand beside your head slid down to your hips, squeezing the flesh there before he bent down and picked you up.

“I’m going to fuck you on this couch, and you’re going to think of it everytime you sit here.”

He laid you down on the couch before hastily removing his clothes. You admired the muscles on his body, eyes trailing down his abs and following his happy trail down to his erect cock. He stroked himself, smirking as he watched you study him.

“Like what you see?”

“Shut up.”

He paused for a second before realization crossed his face.

“Shit, I don’t have a condom. Um, do you think Armin has any?”

“Eren,” you laughed. “It’s fine. I’m on birth control. Are you clean?”

He nodded, relief crossing his face. You opened your legs as he kneeled at the end of the couch, eyes half-lidded as he took in your naked body splayed out beneath him. He leaned down towards your core, close enough that you could feel his breath. You sucked in a breath as you waited to feel his mouth on you, but instead he spit on your core.

“Eren,” you gasped.

He shrugged.

“Gotta make sure my girl is ready.”

He slapped his cock against you before sliding it slowly along your slit. You moaned, wiggling your hips to try and get him to slip in. A low chuckle rumbled in his throat, and he finally obliged you, pushing in at an agonizing pace. He was very well endowed, and you winced slightly at how thick he was. The stretch took some getting used to, but he went slow, murmuring praise until his hips were pressed against yours.

Your left leg came to wrap around his hip while the other hung off the couch. He pulled his head back to kiss you for a moment while you adjusted to him. After a moment, you lifted your hips, your silent signal that you were ready to take him.

His head came to settle in the crook of your neck, groaning as he pulled out. You felt how heavy he was as he dragged himself out until just the tip was in before pushing back in. One hand came to grab the back of his head, pulling at his hair while the other began to claw at his back. His pace started slow, repeating the slow drag and harsh push before he started to pick up the pace. The couch creaked noisily underneath you as he fucked you faster, your moans getting louder and filling the living room. He turned his head to kiss and lick your neck, biting down lightly in an effort to mark you.

“Mine,” he slurred out. “You’re mine now.”

You lifted the leg on his hip higher, allowing him to hit a different angle. Stars began to dance in your vision, and you tried to warn him through moans.

“You want to cum, yeah? You think you deserve to? Walking around naked to fucking rile me up?”

“I’m s-sorry,” you stammered out. “I-I didn’t mean t-to, Eren.”

He grabbed your cheeks harshly, turning your face so you could look at him. His face was flushed, pleasure evident on his features as he kept on fucking you.

“Look me in the eyes while you cum. I want to remember what it looks like.”

His words were the nail in the coffin, and you moaned out his name loudly as you came around him. He groaned with you, relishing the feeling of you tightening around him as he kept on until he came too. You could feel him twitching inside of you, his cum flooding you and leaving you warm.

The both of you were quietly panting, trying to recover from the intense sex you had just had. After a moment Eren pulled away, one hand pushing your hair out of your face. He studied you, a trace of intimacy in his eyes, before he leaned in and kissed you. The kiss was so different from before, tender and full of affection. You didn’t want him to pull away, but he did so to pull out and sit back on the other side of the couch.

“Are you alright? Let me go get you some water.”

Your heart swelled as you watched him pad into the kitchen and return with a cold water bottle. He handed it to you, kissing you before he sat down again and took a long swig of his own bottle.

“Do you hate me?”

He sputtered on his water.

“No!” he exclaimed, eyes wide.

“Then why have you been so cold to me since I moved in with Armin?”

He looked away, cheeks flushing.

“I was, er . . . jealous of you. Armin and I have been best friends since we were kids, and I just didn’t want someone to take him away from me.”

A deep frown touched his brows as he stared at the coffee table.

“He’s my closest friend, and I care about him so much. I just . . . I didn’t want him taken away from me.”

You let out a quiet giggle as you scooted closer to him.

“You were just being protective of your friend. You’re like a golden retriever.”

“Hey! I am not!”

You laughed, ruffling his hair before snuggling into his side.

“Well, I guess we better come up with a story for Armin. But I think we should leave the couch out of it.”

It was Eren’s turn to laugh and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Great idea.”

[xdaddysprincessxx]

Anna please tell me more about Madhouse Joel 🥰😚👀

Honestly he’s my fave 😍😍

Okay so this actually came from an ask @toxicanonymity had gotten, like months ago 🫢

I was gonna do a one shot but honestly it was becoming a monster so I’m breaking it up into different parts. A lil snippet under the cut

Madhouse Joel

Growing up, all the adults around you always pushed you to go to college. You were forever being told that you had to go get a higher education to get a good job and then you had to find a good husband and pop out a few children and be a housewife but also work and make money. Your future was planned out for you without anyone ever even asking what you wanted. That was until the summer you turned sixteen. You still aren’t even sure exactly what happened that day. It was mid July in your small southern town in the middle of Texas. You had ventured out to the big oak tree in your backyard, swinging on the old wooden swing your dad had put up for you when you were five. Lost in your own thoughts as your legs swung back and forth when you heard bloodcurdling screams and shouts before two gun shots went off. You lost both your parents that day. During the trial, your mothers lawyer claimed she lost her mind and went insane to explain why she shot your father in the chest. The judge sent her off to spend the rest of her life in a mental institution while your daddy rest in peace up on the hill about a few miles out from your house.

After being orphaned, your dads sister, Aunt Millie, came to live with you at your house. You always loved her, she was only ten years older than you, making her a guardian at only twenty six. She was the one who supported you when you decided to become a nurse.

It’s been a few years since you graduated college, earning your bachelor’s in nursing with a concentration in psychiatric mental health. You had hoped to work in the psych ward, after seeing how your mom was treated in the hospital, it made you want to make a change. You wanted to improve mental hospitals, so many of them are still very medieval in the practices they continue to do. You knew it would be hard to really make any kind of change but you could at least make life a little better for the patients you worked with.

It had actually been a struggle to find work in any healthcare position after graduation which is why you find yourself in Elmwood now. Elmwood is a small town located down in Texas, a few hours south from where you had gone to school. They aren’t joking when they say it’s a small town, it’s home to a little over 3,000 residents. A majority of those residents come from the patients who live in the Elmwood Sanitarium. The most violent, criminally insane people get sent here. And this is where you find yourself pulling up too on a sunny Monday morning. At least it was sunny before you took a left turn down a dirt road a couple miles back. The sanitarium is hidden back, deep in the woods. As you get closer, the old hospital looks daunting and ominous. It leaves the feeling of a deep pit in your stomach, an uncertainty that something bad is gonna happen that you just can’t shake. Making your way into the parking lot that sits to the side of the hospital, you’re able to find a spot close to the front. Putting your car in park, you grab your purse and take a deep breath in,

“You got this. They reached out to you. They offered you a job because you’re good at what you do,” breathe out, “let’s do this.”

You give yourself a little pep talk to try to help subside this horrible gut feeling you have

[cloveroctobers]

OCTOBER PROMPTS 🎃 — 3. Fezco

A/N: I always loved writing for fez so here’s a cute moment from me to y’all this fall season + I can’t wait to see Angus’ unreleased films—just saw a trailer for one the other night 🧡

PROMPTS are from here + I’m using: back to school/university + studio ghibli + “here take this!” “It’s a white sheet.” “Yeah, put it on.”

WARNINGS: language + doing weird couple things inspired by the fall season? :)

<- read my previous october prompt here.

⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾

He’s all open arms with a duffel bag on his shoulder, dark auburn hair grown out a bit from the usual buzz cut, single gold chain shining underneath the evening light, and when he catches your eye, seated on the top of the table outside on this fall Friday night, laughing it up with most of your new friends he can’t help but to smile at the sight. Fez was proud to see that most of the worries that you once had about lacking friends at college seemed to be a thing of the past.

“If they don’t see how special you are then fuck ‘em, you don’t need them. And you always got me and ash, remember that. I’ll even slide through and sit in on a class if you want me to.” He often told you when you weren’t having the best days adapting to your new environment, which was a hour and some change away from east highland and you knew Fez always means what he says. He’s always ten toes down for you and the feeling was surely mutual. However Fez wasn’t much of a school person himself preferring street smarts over anything but he never steered you away from getting your education, even when you wanted to give up but he knew you were never serious. It was of course sweet to hear Fez say these things but it didn’t completely erase the feeling when you’re out here on your own dealing with social anxiety. You had to do what you had to do and that’s on Tommy pickles!

It’s only been close to two months since you were back in school.

Taking a gap year—or two after graduating high school to figure out what you truly wanted to do, which did include working since your parents weren’t having you sitting around for a year not doing shit. Thankfully they allowed you to focus on your studies and you didn’t have to work throughout high school a couple years back. That gap turned into two with you going through two jobs and settled on a third before you took your chances again with UCLA.

Y’all don’t want to hear all the details but you made it back around to school at twenty, dreading the thought at the beginning and a little bit more once you set foot inside these huge classrooms but at least you kinda had a better idea of a major now than at eighteen. The dread kicked in even more because it always felt like you were behind especially when you talked to some classmates that were a little younger and more guided. The stress actually had you crying about it to your boyfriend fez over lengthy phone calls and FaceTimes more than with your own parents, who did check in, but you felt like they just didn’t get it.

To see Fez here unexpectedly had your heart thudding in your ears and you wasted no time, jumping off the table to run into Fez’s arms.

“Wassup ma? You miss me?”

“Always.” You nuzzled your head against Fez’s cheek, who chuckled, circling one arm around your body, tugging you right to his.

When you finally broke apart, you felt your eyes burning as you gripped his face just staring at him.

“C’mon man, you got time to drool over me later.”

Which made you playfully roll your eyes before intertwining your fingers with his, Fez giving your hand a gentle squeeze before you pulled him over to briefly introduce him to the friends you made. He was exactly what they were all expecting and they approved, although fez didn’t get the chance to put his stamp on them face to face because you were pulling him away to head back to the dorms.

“Hey! Make sure you put the scrunchie on the door for me!” Your roommate, Jasmine called out to you while the rest let out a chorus of ooo’s, which made Fez give a faint dimpled grin with you shaking your head.

Fez said from behind you as you practically dragged him through the leaf covered campus, “oh word? That’s what y’all be on here? I’m finna come up here every weekend then.”

Scoffing you slowed to walk beside fez instead, enjoying the feeling of him being beside you again. It was hard when you’re used to being around someone if not every day then every other day. Sure you ended up with one best friend during your senior year—that wasn’t fez but she was also one of the ones that always knew what they wanted to do with their lives. As soon as graduation hit, you spent maybe a few days out of the summer together before she started spending her time hanging out elsewhere with other people that decided to do the same schooling as her instead during the end of summer. Then she was gone off to college abroad on a ship with those said friends, yeah that shit must be real nice!! but you were always prone to motion sickness.

But hey! At least you still followed each other on Instagram and you liked each other’s photos from time to time. There really wasn’t any beef, that’s just the way life goes sometimes. You fall out of sync with old friends; although your mind starts to play tricks on you, making you question if the friendship was ever really genuine or just temporary. Nonetheless you tried to get over that as you welcomed new people in your life and they accepted you in return.

You still never planned on forgetting about Fergus O’Carroll, even if your brain tried.

“I see somebody’s ready for Halloween and shit,” Fez comments after dumping his bag on the desk chair, then moving back to the center of the dorm room to spin the hanging witch from the light on the ceiling.

Plopping down on your side of the room you sigh, “that’s all Jas’ doing. She basically forced me to get in the spooky spirit with this blanket and stuffed pumpkin. Otherwise than that, all these decorations are her doing. We both know I’m more of a Christmas person.”

“That’s coo though, ain’t nothing wrong with that. You like what you like.” Fez shrugged before hopping up on the bed with you, “although I must admit, I packed my road dog, Chucky with me.”

Fez and Ash loved Halloween for as long as you’ve been in their lives. “Child’s Play,” happened to be one of many of their favorite horror movies, which also didn’t surprise you as much when it came down to the deranged shit talking redhead of a doll. They got a kick out of him and Ash even tried to prank you seasons ago, dressed up as such one night when you fell asleep on their couch cramming for a test the next day, that’s until you pranked him right back during his prank; by faking unconsciousness deciding that you were getting sick of his pranks after awhile.

You showed that little shit but it was always all love.

Shoulder to shoulder, Fez bumped yours making you laugh a bit after you kicked off your shoes.

“So you’re here.”

“Shit, I think so.” Fez slowly blinked at you, patting all over his torso before the both of you laughed into each other’s faces, “yeah, happy to be here wit you.”

You’re scratching at his beard, then running your fingertips over the growth of hair on his head, to scanning the soft freckles all over his skin until you’re leaning forward to press a kiss right to his lips. Fez licks his bottom lip when you pull away, resting his hand right on your thigh now, “damn that little kiss is all I get? It’s been like twelve-fifty days since I last saw you.”

“That doesn’t sound right but I believe you,” you laughed still caressing his jaw before placing your lips right back on Fez’s.

It seems as if all the stress of whatever maybe going on in your lives burns away with the both of you in each others faces again. Phone calls can only get you so far and you knew Fez was busy getting to the bag while you were getting to the books. Yes those were his words, not yours. However you still made time for each other the best way you knew how, after all this relationship was not something either of you imagined letting go of.

“I’d say put the hair tie on the door but nature is currently doing its thing.” You whispered to fez, after the both of you broke apart to bring some air back into your lungs.

Fez squeezed your hip, “don’t even worry about it, I’m fine doin’ whatever you wanna do.”

“Movie night?”

“Right up my alley, what you thinking?”

A slow smile split over your lips then as you met Fez’s lighter eyes and he already knew as the both of you echoed, “Studio Ghibli.”

That’s how the two of you ended up, backs against propped up festive pillows by the wall for cushion, spiderweb black fleece blanket tossed over your laps, laptop stand placed on a side table you dragged to the center of the room, debating on which out of the batch to watch. You were aware that, “Grave of the fireflies,” was Fez and Ash’s movie to watch together along with their own personal favorites on the side and you also had your own so you both tried to come to terms with another.

As the intro to, “Howl’s moving castle,” began you jumped up, pausing it and alerting a low-lidded fez immediately.

He couldn’t even get to ask what you were doing, as you jumped off the bed and crouched down underneath the bed, dragging something out beneath it to dig through before you stood back up with a huff.

“Here, take this!”

Fez took the material from you, confusion digging into his brows, “Issa white sheet.”

“Yeah, put it on.” You motioned with your hands while fez lightly shook his head at you.

You moved back to your roommate’s side of the room, flicking her candy corn lights on while fez questioned, “for why tho?”

“We’ve been missing out on doing coupley things this fall being away from each other so… maybe now I’ll be in the mood.”

“So what we are gonna be? Two snuggling ghosts?”

Thinking about it for a second with a tilt of your head, you nodded as you picked up the second sheet, “yeah, I guess so.”

You slip the sheet on first, your eyes and mouth picking out of the two holes Fez wasn’t aware were even cut into the sheets until he rolled the other sheet around, “Yo?! Where’d you go?”

Groaning you held out your arms towards fez who slid the sheet over himself as well. “Oh that’s better, now I can see your sexy ass again.”

Posing for him underneath the sheet, you laughed after awhile before sitting right next to him again, covering yourselves back with the spiderweb blanket before letting your hands disappear again.

“You comfy?” Fez asked.

“Much better now,” you replied tucking your head into Fez’s sheet covered shoulder, thankfully because that vibrant wool sweater surely would itch the mess out of your skin.

It’s happened before! You still loved your man down but it had to be said—or thought?

Silence filled the dorm until Fez cleared his throat, “now how we supposed to watch the movie when you done paused it and your hands vanished, Casper?”

“Watch and learn my powers Stretch,” kicking your foot out, you attempted to point your toe to tap on the space bar like the bow wow meme but the stand the laptop was on happened to be a little too close on the edge of the night table, slipping right off and onto its side on the carpet.

Fez snorted, “your ghost powers suck, bro.”

Ready to retort, three knocks at the door halted you in doing so as they sounded along with a brief pause before it became unlocked, revealing a Afro haired jasmine standing in the door way peeking through the open gaps of her fingers.

“…not what I was expecting but whatever floats your boat!”

“Listen, I know this maybe weird as hell right now but it’s just us.” Fez spoke while Jasmine shrugged her shoulders, heading to her wardrobe to peel her jacket off.

“Oh this is a complete no-judgement zone from me, believe that! You can ask how many times they found me in here doing weird shit of my own. Please don’t let me interrupt, carry on.” Jasmine answered, pressing her hands on her hips afterwards.

Fez nodded.

You blinked, “jas…can you do us a huge favor?”

She deeply exhaled, “Are you gonna kick me out now because you want to have sex with the ghost sheets on?”

Fez raised his brows at that…you could never say your roommate wasn’t upfront about anything.

“What? No. Could you pick up my laptop for me and press play for us, please? Movie night got a little delayed.”

Jasmine sighed with relief, “oh hell yeah. Thank god because I did not want to crash at Anita’s again, she’s been farting and sleep talking like crazy lately and I have to get up for work in the morning.”

She moves through the room, picking it up and balancing it in the center of the table top and winks at you two. She halts over the spacebar suddenly asking the ginger in the room, “so fez…what do you think of our humble abode?”

“It’s straight. Knew it would be with the whole warning on the front door.”

“Right answer! Next year I plan on sneaking animatronics in here and scaring the poop outta people as soon as they enter, regardless of what Ilian says, our cute ass RA.” Jasmine beams before hitting the spacebar, “I’m gonna head down to the showers and I’ll be back in a bit. Enjoy your movie night love—ghost birds? Yeah that sounds good. I’m gonna write that down and revisit that for my creative writing class.”

Both you and fez watch as jasmine closes her eyes briefly and turns a makeshift key to the side of her temple before grinning. Mumbling to herself she goes through the room collecting her things to exit, leaving the two of you alone again.

“…and she says we’re doing weird shit when she does things like that?” Fez pointed making you snicker.

“She’s just different, a true Aquarius. Real smart though. Let’s not judge her since she didn’t judge us in our ghost glory.” you told fez from underneath the sheet who lifted his shoulders in surrender.

He wasn’t, “I swear I’m not. I’m just a guest observing it all.”

“Not uh, you’re home with me.”

“Well shit, let me get out these pants then and get real comfortable!”

“Nobody wants to see those hairy chicken legs.”

“Whoa, stop the cap! We know as soon as the temp drops tonight you’re gonna be playing footsies with me to keep warm.”

He’s not wrong but Fez didn’t have to be so loud about it.

Sighing you placed your head back against fez’s shoulder and he moved to rest his right on yours. Together you turned your attention back to the movie playing on the laptop, enjoying each others company like you never left.

Fez suddenly murmurs from beside you, “I love you, scholar.”

Your response was instant hearing the teasing but heart felt nickname, “And I’ll love you even more tomorrow, lucky.”

⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾

Continue with my October anthology prompts here.

[angsty-twihardxx]

Remember How Much I Love You | T.Miller

~ You thought everything would be perfect when you and Tommy finally moved in together, and when its not the two of you try your best to fix things ~

Warnings: Not really, some angst but I swear the ending is sweet. Mention of pregnancy.

A/N: Had a bit of slump, but I really wanted to finish this, and i have a part 2 of this in the books.. plz let me know what ya'll think. if you like feel free to have a gander at my masterlist <3 xx

It had been nearly six months since you and Tommy bought your home together, in the outskirts of Austin it was everything that you had ever dreamed of. In your old farmhouse the two of you could live out the rest of your days, here you could both get old together.

Transitioning to sharing your space with Tommy had been relatively easy, considering that the two of you were used to spending almost all of your free time together anyway.

At first it felt perfect, the two of you feeling like those corny couples in those rom-coms that always had you cringing together. Swearing you’d never be like that.

You both were basically connected at the hip whenever you were home together, if you were in the kitchen doing ‘literally anything’ then he would be behind you. Distracting you with your tasks as he would drop his head onto your shoulder, his stubbled cheeks would burn the soft skin on your neck as he peppered warm kisses there. 

He made you feel like a teenager again, how he managed to get you flustered so easily, just him touching you had you pulling him away from the kitchen and back upstairs in a desperate frenzy to get your hands on him one last time before you would both go your separate ways for the day.

Mornings were always blissful like that, you would both be making breakfast and drinking coffee in a post-sex haze. Filled with laughter and very mediocre dance moves from whatever songs were playing on the radio, leaving you both amused with your distractions resulting in sulking in eating burnt toast. 

But now the beauty of it all was replaced with the very harsh and brutal reality, the wool had been ripped from your eyes and only now did you realise that it wasn’t like that anymore. You had recently graduated from college and was offered a teaching job, which you were excited for so you said yes straight away. The only downside was that you were never home, every weekday you were up and out the door before the sun peeked through the rocky valleys beyond your home, and the moon was already out when you got home. 

Much like you, Tommy who was now always working, he and his older brother Joel started up their own construction business that took them a lot of work and money. So they were always busy with new projects that always left him coming home exhausted, by the time you were home he was usually asleep on either the sofa or bed. It was a very rare occasion that the two of you would actually run into each other during the day. 

Both of you were just too tired to notice how bad it was getting. 

Though tonight you had a plan to take a step in the right direction, you had been feeling so flat lately and figured that it was your body’s way of telling you to take a step back and really evaluate what was important in your life. You felt the need to at least try and save your relationship before a simple homemade dinner couldn't fix it.

A smile grew on your face when Tommy’s car pulled up in the driveway, no doubt surprised to see yours there as well. It felt good to surprise him, to do something that felt so foreign. The two of you would always do sweet little things like this, whether it was you knocking on his door unannounced in the morning with a sweet smirk on your face. Or him waiting for you to finish classes for the day to pick you up and take you somewhere special. 

“Just in here!” You called out from where you stood in the kitchen finishing up making Tommy’s favourite, your own lasagna recipe. His tired groans could be heard getting gradually louder as he eventually dragged his feet onto the tiled floor, clearly not matching your level of enthusiasm. “Y’aint usually home this early.” He mumbled as his tied eyes caught sight of you during the day time, a sight he was not used to. “I know I got sent home actually, still not feeling well.”  You shrugged, sending a tight lipped smile as Tommy leaned against the doorway, an almost confused look on his face.

“Been workin’ too hard.”

“Yeah well, guess we're both guilty of that.” The words came out harsher than you expected, making you cringe as you saw Tommy frown from your peripheral.

“Tommy wait–” You breathed out, ready to apologise but he was already walking towards the stairs. It made you feel uneasy, like you didn’t know how to talk to each other anymore. 

Tommy sighed as he felt your concerned eyes burning into his, he knew that all you wanted to was just try and make an effort. But he was just so tired. 

“M’just having a shower alright?” He bit back in an almost sad voice, he felt guilty that he was simply just too exhausted to do this with you right now. His fingers were tightly wrapped on the polished bannister, it wasn’t a nice feeling to be annoyed at you for doing absolutely nothing wrong. But yet he was…

He continued walking up the stairs and shutting the bathroom door behind him without looking back up at you, you let out a meek ‘okay’ knowing that he wouldn't even hear you. You wondered where it all went wrong so quickly, never did you ever think that you two could get to a point that you wouldn’t know how to even talk to  each other.

You were alone in the kitchen again till everything was nearly ready, the silence was deafening how quiet it was. No longer having your laughter would be bouncing off the walls during Tommy’s attempts to take over you cooking dinner. 

Though when Tommy did come back downstairs you were already plating up the food in a huff, already feeling like you ruined everything. 

The both of you danced around each other, while Tommy opened the fridge to grab himself a beer, you were already sitting down as you picked away at the food on your palate. Whether it was your stomach or the tense silence that made your stomach churn at the idea of eating anything.v

“So uh, how’s work been? I feel like we haven’t had a night like this in ages.” You smiled sadly, not wanting to—start anything or mean anything by it. Simply just, starting a conversation. 

He responded with a sigh, as he shook his head ridiculously as his damp curls danced wildly. 

“Yeah well we had a new guy start a couple of weeks ago, he broke his ankle over the weekend so he’s out.” Tommy groaned as he took another sip of his beer, you only noticed now how tired he actually looked. It had been so long since the two of you caught up with each other at the end of the day like this, you missed this. “So what does that mean?”

“Will probably have to pick up the slack for ‘em, at least till we find someone to replace him.” Tommy shrugged matter of factly, his eyes not lifting up from his plate. “God Tommy, you’ll work yourself into the ground.” There was worry evident in your voice, your cutlery clinking against the ceramic plate as you gave the man in front of you your full attention. He was being absolutely ridiculous, you had the right mind to call Joel and tell him to get someone else to help out.

“Well, someone has to do it.”

“Tommy--"

“Why does it matter?” He looked up at you in annoyance, his tone an octave higher than you're used to. He was hoping that you would simply drop it, why couldn’t you just drop it. 

He could feel his agitation rising as the conversation continued, even though all you were doing was worrying about him. “Well I know we don’t see each other as much and–”

“Jesus Christ.” He groaned, rubbing a calloused hand down his face, his elbow propping on the table with a loud ‘thonk’. “Can’t you just let it go? You’re the one that’s at work all goddamn day!” His voice rose in irritation as his now red hot cheeks turned to look at you, almost awaiting an answer. 

Your eyes shot up to watch him in shock, it was a very rare occurrence for Tommy to ever raise his voice, especially at you. You were taken aback at how annoyed and mad he looked, the vein in his neck protruding after his outburst. 

“Yeah you're probably right–I’m so sorry for trying Tommy. It obviously seems like I’m too late anyway.”

Your harsh words cut into Tommy like a burning hot knife, but your lip quivered as you tried to hide the tears from slipping out. He almost expected you to just yell straight back at him, but when you didn't it made him feel worse.

Tommy then let out a frustrated sigh, when his eyes caught onto yours he realised the mistake that he made. “Shit–darlin’ that aint what I meant.” His voice was frantic now, trying to fix his mistake once it was too late. His eyes searched for yours but he couldn’t, your own refusing to look up. Because you knew if you did, you would cry. 

“But it is! Jesus, I dont– I can’t do this right now Tommy.” Your head shook in disbelief, how could something so simple that you had planned go so horribly wrong. You tried to ignore the part of your brain that wondered if you both just weren't the same people you used to be. 

As you stood up abruptly, the chair underneath screeched under the wooden floorboards. Throwing your napkin on the plate you left the table in a hurry, ignoring the calls from Tommy as you basically ran up the stairs. As he sat in the same spot sulking, you were in your upstairs bathroom throwing up what little remnants you had from dinner. 

Your eyes were blurry as you sat on the cold tiles, your eyes continued to water as your eyes drifted on the small silver ring on your left hand. It was the one Tommy gave to you when he proposed to you not long after you graduated, even though you both knew long ago that you wanted to marry him. It was one of the happiest days of your life and now it almost made you want to vomit again. 

Surely this wasn't the same man that you just argued with downstairs, your Tommy was soft and kind and had the most beautiful smile– not that you had seen it much lately. 

You were basically never home with this new job, but when you brought it up to Tommy he said ‘you’d be a fool not to take it.’ And now he was using it against you, when all you were trying to do was have a conversation. You knew that tomorrow was Friday, you just had to make it through the day and then you would have the whole weekend to try and fix this. 

You just had too. 

Tommy groaned out in pain when he woke up on the sofa, his back aching from the hard springs poking into him. He figured he deserved it anyway, as a painful reminder from the universe. At least that’s what you’d probably say, he doesn’t get any of that stuff. He figured he'd go upstairs and try and make things at least a little better with you, tell you that he was sorry— because he was. 

But when he padded down the hallway he could already tell you were gone, your soft snores were absent to him, your side of the bed was empty. 

Usually he wouldn’t mind, but Tommy still felt horrible for the way he talked to you last night. He was never the type to lash out at you in anger or frustration, no matter how tired or exhausted he was. Seeing you get so upset last night made him realise that it was all more than just ‘being at work all the time,’ it was starting to affect your relationship. And the fact that even you knew, and tried to do something nice, and he just basically threw it back in your face. 

He didn’t even know if he could fix it…

He felt like the biggest asshole, as he tried to figure out to make it up to you all he could think about how upset you looked, it was burned into his mind. Your side of the bed was unmade and it made him imagine you throwing the covers in a frenzy to get up on time like always, your pajamas laying on the floor in a line to the bathroom where you would’ve stumbled to the shower. 

With an annoyed groan he ran his hands down his face as he dropped out and sat on the edge of the bed, he missed your lingering fingers in the morning. Checking his phone he saw that you left him a message. 

‘Can you remind Joel he needs to pick up Sarah?

Was sick this morning so I’ll be late..no point waiting up.

His brows furrowed as he read your text, trying to trace back in his memory to when you mentioned you were feeling unwell, besides from yesterday at least. Was he really that bad of a fiancé that could no longer notice these things? Usually he prided himself in noticing if there was something wrong.

Tommy knew that he had to do something, before the two of you began to resent each other—if you didn’t already. 

On the top of his nightstand in a handmade shell frame by Sarah, it was his favourite photo of the two of you.  

In the polaroid you were crawled up in his lap, arm slung around the back of his neck as you both smiled for the excited Sarah who had gifted her first camera. The two of you had bright smiles on your face, cheeks pinched with genuine happiness. He missed your smile. 

The two of you looked so young despite it not actually being that long ago, he remembered that day fondly. The day he proposed to you…

After an entertaining morning opening presents the two of you were sitting outside on the back porch, your elbows propped up on the arm of the lawn chairs you sat on. You were wearing that beautiful white white dress  Admiring the view as you watched Tommy strumming his guitar with the new guitar pick you had gifted him for Christmas. 

He was happily strumming for sometime, before stopping and turning to face you, a wide smile on his face. "Y'know I almost forgot your present..." Tommy had a playful smirk on his face. "Oh good, and here I thought you forgot about me." You chuckled in amusement, giving him that look that reminded him that you didn't actually mind, you were never one to like anything extravagant for presents. 

"Ain't no way I could forget about you. Now, just close your eyes." 

"Do you really expect me to fall for that one again Tommy?" Your hands rested on your hip, giving him a suspicious look. Which made Tommys head fall back in laughter, his raven curls bouncing as he chuckled in amusement. "Come on now darlin', just close 'em."

"Ugh, fine." You huff as you then close your eyes, despite the shuffling noises you hear you keep them shut.

Then when you opened your eyes you let out a surprised gasp, not expecting to see Tommy down on one knee. For a brief few seconds you were completely speechless, frozen. You had been waiting for this moment, for so long. As your eyes began to water, he began to speak.

"Now you know i ain't best with this kind of stuff, but do you wanna marry me darlin?"

"Are you kidding me? I--of course!" You exclaimed, your head nodding at him frantically. There was no possible way that you could ever say no to him. You jumped into his arms, instantly connecting your lips with his in a passionate fever. 

"Love you so much darlin', gonna make sure you remember that everyday." 

God he had to fix this…

Orange and deep purple hues began to pour onto your hands as they shook on top of your desk, the red marking pen falling onto the wood with a deafening ‘thonk.’ 

You were meant to leave nearly twenty minutes ago if you wanted to be home somewhat early. Yet you still hadn’t dared to move from your desk, any homework to mark was completely lost to you now, too preoccupied with the positive pregnancy test you took during your lunch break. 

Your coworker Meg suggested the idea of you being pregnant causally during a conversation of your latest sickness, and now that you thought about it, it made perfect sense. 

The constant unwavering nausea that you had you avoiding food like the plague, the fact that no matter how much sleep you had you were still always tired. Then lastly, the fact that you could actually remember when you had your period. For so long you had blamed all of these on your current life changes and stress levels, but no longer could it be ignored…

You were pregnant. 

As you let out a shaky breath, running your fingers through your hair you thought about telling Tommy. Usually you would be ecstatic with such news, but after the night before you suddenly weren’t sure. 

The two of you had daydreamed about having children together numerous times, but that was also before he had his own business and you had college fees and a full time job. Would it be the same now that it was real or were you simply overreacting? Who knew till you told him.  

Maybe last night solidified just how far you both had let this go on, this big wall that separated the two of you in your own home. You were almost surprised that Tommy hadn’t thought you were pregnant yet, usually being so attentive over you. More times than most, he would know something was wrong with you before you even did.

Not that you were any better, you were barely home anymore. Yet you used to spend all of your free time with Tommy, no matter what. 

What if the two of you could never change?

After spending a few extra minutes psychic yourself up in your parked car in the driveway, your eyes drifted to the yellow light peering from your open kitchen window where Tommy was probably cooking himself dinner. You could only presume since you would usually still be at work, it made you realise how much you missed his cooking. Maybe not in the kitchen, but despite what you had been told by Joel, the man could and loved his grill. 

Eventually entering the home you noticed how oddly cozy it felt, like you had been enveloped into a warm welcoming hug. Which lately, had been the opposite of how you felt coming home. You couldn’t even remember the last time it felt like this, so lived in. That the people that lived here actually had their shit together. 

Peeling off your jacket you walked towards the yellow light leaking on the floor from behind the door to the kitchen, you stopped in shock. Tommy stood by the oven, his back to you as he swore over what you could imagine was your tattered old recipe book that belonged to your grandmother. The old frayed edges that poked over on the counter, as he leaned over trying to read the old handwriting. 

It almost looked like some sort of fever dream, he was showered, shaved and wearing open of his nice button down shirts. The exact olive green one that you had bought him last year for his birthday, you reckon it was the first time he had put it on. 

“Oh hey—“ Tommy chuckled nervously once he turned to see you still in the doorway, a confused and shocked look on your face. “I uh—wasn’t expectin’ you till later.” His voice was chipper, which was the polar opposite from yesterday. He was obviously trying, be nice.

“What's all this for?” You tried not to sound mean, you obviously knew why. But you needed to know…

“Well I wanted to do somethin’ nice for ya. Try and make up for me being a dick, n’not taking care of you like I should be.” Tommy’s shoulder dropped with a sigh, his hands cupping the edge of the counter that leant against, you could tell that he was upset. A deep crease forming between his brows, the way it always did when he was upset with himself, you could see the internal nettle he was having with himself. 

Your breathing hitches when your eyes drift to the bouquet of wildflowers in the centre of your dining table, the ceramic vase was the same one that was gathering dust since you moved in. He even tidied up the leftover mess that neither of you had been bothered to put away. 

Tommy’s eyes peered up to where you stood in the doorway, your glassy eyes analysing the home. Your cheeks were puffy and stained from pre- existing tears, it broke his heart thinking that you had been crying because of him. 

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I was tired and stressed out—and I know that’s not an excuse.” His large warm hands enveloped your own as he grazed his thumb along the top of your cold knuckles. 

“I just wanted to make sure you still knew how much I love ya.” He flashed you the same dorky grin you fell in love with all those years ago, that you were still in love with. 

Guilt ripped through you, the fact that you really thought he stopped loving you, after all these years that he could stop just like that. That you doubted that he wouldn’t want a baby with you…

“I was just so worried that we were falling apart.” A sob escaped your lips, your shoulders trembling under your blouse. The feelings you had been harbouring were overwhelming with your newly added hormones, you simply had no more room left, you had to let it all out. 

His strong arms envelop you as he pushes you into his chest, his hands slide up your back to cradle to the back of your head. The soft fruity smells of your shampoo filling his nose, a smell that took him back, something that he didn’t realise he could miss so much.

“Baby I’m still just as in love with you as the day I met you. I know I ain’t been actin’ like it lately, but I’m gonna put in more effort.” 

You could smell his aftershave as you brought your head into his chest, as your tears darkened the fabric of his shirt. Tommy’s rough hands moved up to cup the soft skin of your cheeks, so he could look at you properly as he spoke, making sure that you knew. 

“Don’t— it’s not just your fault. I’m at fault too Tommy.”

“Look, we both are as bad as each other. But I don’t want to feel that far away from you ever again.” 

“Tommy I, it’s not just that—“ You let out a shuddered breath, choking on your words as they tried to come out. The entire speech that you had thought out in the car was completely lost to you, your brain went blank.   

“What's going on baby? Talk to me.” 

Swallowing the lump of nerves in your throat, you dropped a trembling hand down into your pocket. Grasping onto the tiny piece of plastic that you had been staring at all afternoon. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, your arm felt astronomically heavier as you lifted up the test and placed it in his unsuspecting hand. 

“I—I only found out this afternoon.” You added nervously, unknowingly holding in a breath as Tommy remained quiet. His brows furrowed for a brief moment till his glassy eyes darted up to look at yours. “I'm gonna be a Dad?” His glassy honey brown eyes beamed down at you, filled with so much happiness. You simply nodded, your own wide smile growing on your face. The nerves that had you anxious all afternoon had dissipated. 

“Holy shit, baby this is amazing!” He exclaimed with excitement, bringing you into another tight embrace. His lips pressing onto yours, softly but full of hunger. The two of you were both desperate for each other's touch, after what felt like forever. This felt right, with him, it felt perfect.

“Love you so much darlin’, ain’t gonna ever let you forget it.”