#several months notice to pack up and leave
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fanboyoff1 · 2 days ago
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Landoscar College Fic (2.4k words)
Inspired by this post. It was supposed to be a little drabble but it spiraled
@complementaryhalves Hope I did it justice. It’s not really a meet-cute since they both know of each other (or maybe that counts, idk how meet-cutes work) but I tried my best lol
Oscar really needs to set a second alarm.
He’s several months into college, so you’d think he’d have figured out a good sleep schedule by then. Unfortunately, that has not happened, and Oscar wakes up to sun on his face.
“Ughhh,” he groans, rolling over and pulling his sheets up over his head. It takes him a few seconds to realize there’s no annoying beeping that usually greets him in the morning.
“Shit.” He grabs his phone from the bedside table and jolts up when he reads 8:25 on his lockscreen. “Shitshitshit.” 
He tosses his sheets to the side, the old mattress creaking loudly as he stands, rushing because his bus is literally about to leave. Why did he sign up for early classes? Why, why, why? Even his professor Mr. Webber told him it was a bad idea once he’d heard about it, but he’d insisted that it would be fine.
Right now, it’s definitely not fine though. He brushes his teeth at lightning-speed in the communal bathroom, and throws on a navy blue sweatshirt and pants, nearly forgetting his watch. He’ll get a bagel or something for breakfast at school.
Thankfully, he likes to pack his backpack the day before, so all he has to do is put it over his shoulders, rushing down the stairs and out the door into the parking lot to see… His bus rolling away down the road without him.
Oscar drops his hands down from his backpack straps to his side in defeat. He curses the ground and his stupid clock under his breath, kicking at a loose rock. What is he gonna do now?
Well, he could call Logan, ask if he can give him a ride. Or maybe Charles drove today? He glances across the parking lot, but there are around three other cars that look just like Charles’, so that won’t be very helpful.
He’s about to pull his phone out when he hears a car pull out of the lot, wheels making a grainy sound against the asphalt. Oscar quickly backs away from the middle of the road and goes back to his quiet crisis.
“Hey, you need a ride?”
Oscar looks up to see the car that had been leaving stopped in front of him. The person behind the voice is a handsome guy with dark curly hair and tan skin, sitting behind the wheel with one hand dangling out the window. There’s a small flicker of recognition in Oscar’s brain, he must have seen the boy around campus before.
The driver seems to have taken Oscar’s silence as hesitancy, starting to talk again. “I-um, I saw your bus fuck off into the distance, and I figured you could use some help. I live right over there.” He points vaguely to another one of the student campus buildings behind them.
Oscar opens his mouth to politely decline immediately, but stops himself. Does he really for certain have another way to get to school? He remembers how he knows this guy now, he’s friends with Charles. Anyone who’s friends with Charles gets an automatic thumbs up from him, but being in a car with them…
“Yeah, I could use a ride,” he finds himself saying, not totally sure the words are coming from his mouth. The curly haired guy seems equally surprised, but masks it quickly. “O-okay. Just come over to the passenger seat.”
Oscar walks out in front of the car, and opens the door. Any move to sit down is paused by the fact that there’s a football in the seat. The boy turns when Oscar opens the door, looking through his eyelashes at him, and his eyes are really blue from up close. A bit of green too- okay, stop analyzing his eyes, he tells himself.
The driver- Oscar decides to coin him Car Guy- notices Oscar’s predicament and grabs the football, promptly chucking it into the backseat and patting the now empty seat for Oscar, who sits.
He twists his body to face the back of the car. “Do you think you damaged anything with that throw?” he asks, trying to find the football amongst the clutter of the car. There’s a few random clothes, a cardboard box on the right.
“Eh, it’s fine,” Car Guy says with a wave of his hand. Oscar turns back to the front, buckling up. Car Guy notices what he’s doing and buckles up himself with a guilty smile. Oh God, Oscar’s totally going to die.
“Just college campus, I assume?” Car Guy asks, adjusting his rear-view mirror that has a car freshener and a necklace hanging from it. The necklace has a big 4 hanging by the end. 
“Yeah,” Oscar sets his backpack down between his legs, and braces when Car Guy starts to drive away. However, he actually seems like an okay driver, despite that seatbelt incident that may haunt Oscar’s nightmares. 
After a few streets, he chills out enough to get a proper look at who’s driving him. He has a Texas Bulls shirt on, a hoodie under it, and to top it all off, a green letterman jacket with the number 4 on it. Huh. 4 again. Maybe the number 4 has some kind of significance to him. 
He’s really pretty as well, especially up close. His long lashes, his freckles, his hair that looks like it's attempting to be a mullet. 
Don’t you dare fall for a jock Oscar, he tells himself. Because that’s what he has to be, right? He has a Bulls shirt, a sporty jacket, and a freaking football in the passenger seat. There’s nothing else he could be.
And he’s still terrified about a stranger driving him somewhere, pretty or not. He takes out his phone and pulls up his messages, finding his last conversation with Dad 2.0 (an inside joke the two of them have.) He frantically texts Charles, asking, ‘Is curly haired boy a serial killer??’
A moment later, he gets a response back, a lot of question marks. Oscar sighs, running his hand through his hair and trying not to let his thoughts spiral into how he may or may not be getting kidnapped.
# # #
Lando’s trying to be cool. He really is. But Oscar’s in his car. He wants to squeal and kick his feet and giggle.
He’s had a crush on the Australian-born boy for a while now, ever since he’d seen him actually. They’d just been passing by each other while walking across campus, but it felt like a world-changing event for Lando (okay, he may be overreacting just a little, but have you seen the man?!)
Once he learned that Oscar was friends with Charles, he came out to his friend as bi and proceeded to spend his entire time with Charles ranting about how pretty Oscar was, or what Oscar was wearing today, or could he get some pictures of Oscar pretty-please?
Needless to say, the Monegasque was tired of his pining fairly quickly. “I don’t understand why you do not just talk to him,” he’d said one day during their lunch break.
“I can’t just talk to him, Charles.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s weird!”
“How? It’s just talking,” Charles had retorted, biting into his protein bar. “You can say it’s because you are both friends with me or something. There are ways.”
“Well, it- it’s complicated.” Charles raised an eyebrow. “I don’t have a good argument for that Charles, but just know that you’re wrong.”
So Lando had just watched Oscar from a distance (not in a creepy way or anything, just in an adoration way.) Until this morning, when he saw Oscar miss the bus, which was admittedly a little funny, he’d gotten the courage to ask if he wanted a ride. He hadn’t been expecting him to say yes, but he was ecstatic that he had.
Now they’re in the car together, and Lando’s tongue feels like lead whenever he attempts to make small talk. Oscar’s aggressively texting someone, and Lando has had to stop himself multiple times from looking at Oscar instead of the road.
Oscar sighs, running his hand through his swoopy hair. Now’s his chance. “Everything okay?” he asks, drumming a finger against the steering wheel as he waits behind a stop sign.
“Hmm?” Oscar looks up, raising his eyebrows, and Lando might die on the spot. “Oh, yeah, everything’s fine. I was just texting a friend. You know Charles, right?”
“Leclerc?”
“Yeah,” Oscar says, letting out a breathy laugh. “I was gonna ask him to drive back and pick me up but… Well I don’t know if you know this, but Charles likes to jog to school sometimes. I wasn’t sure if he had today or not.”
Lando barely processes what he’s said, which feels extremely rude even in his head. But Oscar’s smiling and it looks so cute, and the way his voice changes as he’s trying to stifle a laugh is addicting. “Oh, I think I’ve heard him talk about jogging to class sometimes. One time he texted me at like 6 am, I was so confused when he told me he was at school already.”
Oscar laughs again, and Lando tries to stop the butterflies growing in his stomach. “Ha, yeah, he’s like that. I think he just likes to be early.”
“I know, but 6 am??” 
“I’m not defending him!” Oscar says, throwing his hands in the air, the two of them laughing together. Lando feels joy spread through his chest, because Oscar seems more comfortable, he’s smiling and laughing and blushing and he looks so cute.
“Oh my gosh, I have this selfie of Charles he sent to me when he was on a run,” Oscar turns on his phone and started to scroll through his photos, eyebrows furrowed in determination. His hair droops down on his face, and Lando fights the urge to reach out and push it back.
After a minute or so, Oscar bursts out laughing. “Did you find it?” Lando asks. Oscar nods, shoulders shaking, and holds his phone out for Lando to see. It's perfect timing, they're stopped at a red light, so Lando turns his head to inspect the picture.
Charles has a headband and glasses on with no shirt. He must have been running when he took the picture, everything’s blurry and the background is just a mass of green and gray. The most noticeable thing is his face. He’s trying to wink, but it’s more like a squint, and his eyebrows are high up on his forehead. He looks partially like he ate something sour, and like he’s getting chased by a wild animal.
Lando snorts, and Oscar pulls the phone back. “I know right? Apparently, he took the photo and sent it to me without checking what it looked like, so now I have this treasure saved in my phone forever.”
# # #
They spend the rest of the car ride in silence, and Oscar regrets thinking Car Guy was someone scary or a jerk. He seems really sweet and funny. And he’s attractive. But that’s besides the point.
Charles had been blowing up Oscar’s phone ever since his vague text about Car Guy, most of it consisting of ‘who the hell are you with’ and ‘answer your phone, you’re freaking me out.’ Oscar replies to his flurry of messages with nvm. It's fine. I’ll explain later
“Is this a good place to drop you off?” Car Guy asks him, and Oscar’s head jolts up. He parked just a few minutes away from his first class.
“Oh yeah, this is perfect,” Oscar grabs his backpack and opens the car door. “Thanks for this,” he says, turning back.
“No problem,” Car Guy says with a smile. He’s got a little gap between his front teeth. “See you around?”
Oscar gives him a thumbs-up and steps out, walking down the winding sidewalk to Mr. Webber’s class in room 222.
Epilogue
Oscar still needed another alarm. He just kept forgetting. And now he was running late again, this time far too late to even try to catch the bus.
He sits on the parking lot curb, about to call Charles (he’d taken his car today,) when a familiar voice calls out to him.
“Dude, you really need to wake up earlier.”
Oscar gives Car Guy a withering glare. He leans back in his car in response, a look of barely concealed fear in his eyes. “Well, do you want a ride or not?” 
Oscar sighs and stands, getting in the passenger seat. “No football this time,” Car Guy says with a grin. Oscar can’t help but smile back.
This car ride is a lot less talkative than the last one, a playlist of Taylor Swift and Miley Cyrus from Car Guy’s phone playing loudly. Oscar puts on an excellent act of pretending his ears aren’t bleeding from the music.
“Thanks again,” he says once they arrive at his stop. He gets his backpack and is about to leave when Car Guy speaks up.
“Hey um, I was wondering if maybe you could repay me by going on a date? With me?”
Oscar blinks once, twice. Car Guy obviously takes this the wrong way, his face reddening. “Never mind. Just… forget I said anything.”
“No,” Oscar says. “I don’t want to forget that. I’d love to go on a date with you.”
“Really?” Car Guy says, his eyes lighting up. “Okay, here’s my number.” He reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out a folded Sticky-Note, pressing it into Oscar’s hand. Oscar wonders if he feels the electricity when their fingers touch too.
“Uh, this is gonna sound weird,” Oscar says, rubbing the back of his neck. “But can I get your name?”
“Oh. OH. My name’s Lando.”
“Lando,” Oscar says, testing the word on his tongue. “I’m Oscar.”
“I kinda already knew that,” Lando giggles, and now it’s Oscar turn to blush. “You look cute when you blush.” His face gets a thousand times more red.
“OkIgottagoI’lltextyoubye,” he says, almost stumbling out of the car. Once Lando’s car drives away though, he allows himself a bit of a victory dance, before walking to class with a skip in his step and only one word in his mind. Lando, Lando, Lando. 
Okay I kinda hate it 😭 But I don’t really wanna work on it more, so *tosses fanfic at the Tumblr gods and runs*
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romance-incubomp3 · 1 month ago
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some of the people in those notes are in a different world
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loonylupinblack3 · 4 months ago
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Shy
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader
Warnings: swearing, suggestive content
Summary: you have a crush on a certain co-worker but are too shy to tell him. so someone does it for you.
Word count: 2.6k
A/N: THIS WAS A REQUEST BUT WHEN I TRIED TO REPLY TO IT IT DIDNT LET ME AND DELETED IT INSTEAD (also jean is a meddling little shit in this and u just gotta accept that)
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You watched him from across the hall greedily, eyes drinking in his panting form, the sweat coating his chest and back, the strained muscles underneath his wife beater tank top. Logan was a sight for sore eyes on a normal day, but when he was working out? He had you practically rabid for him.
You were sitting on one of the benches, a forgotten book in your hand you hadn’t glanced at in ages, preferring to treat yourself to the image of Logan Howlett hot and sweaty while working out. There were a few other X-men exercising alongside him, and others on the bench with you hanging out so you weren’t too out of place, but everyone could see the way you looked at Logan.
Everyone but Logan himself.
You’d joined the team a few months ago- 5 to be exact- after whispers had gotten to you of a safe space for mutants. Having hidden your true genetic code from everyone else in your life, you jumped at the chance of not having to hide anymore. With your unique skill set too- the ability to formulate and present illusions- you were an exceptional addition to both the X-men and the teaching staff.
You thrived at the X mansion. The kids loved you, you got along well with your fellow teammates, and you had suggested and helped act on several improvements to both the school and the team. You were a good addition, and the other mutants were grateful to have you there.
You’d just had one problem when acclimating to the school. Your teeny, tiny, incredibly small crush on your fellow professor, Logan Howlett. At first you really had thought it would be no big deal. Just a co-worker you had noticed was slightly attractive. That’s all. Other mutants had told you he was hard to talk to, and had a gruff, moody personality, so you’d thought the attraction would soon fade.
Unfortunately it had only grown. The first time you’d realised, shit, this might actually be a problem, was when you’d gone to get a glass of water in the middle of the night and found Logan leaning against the kitchen counter, shirtless, with a beer in hand.
You’d been so flustered, eyes continuously betraying you and straying to his chest that you’d blurted out the first thing that came to your head, “how’d you get beer in here?”
Logan had chuckled, observing you as he brought the beer bottle to his mouth for a sip. “Why? Want some Sweetheart?”
You’d felt heat rise to your face at the nickname, shaking your head. “No, I was just curious.”
Logan stared at you a second longer, eyes trailing your figure appreciatively before shrugging. “Your loss. And unfortunately I can't tell you how I got it. Gotta keep it a secret lest Xavier finds out.”
You were too flustered to argue so you’d just nodded, mumbled a quick goodbye, and quickly walked back to your bedroom. You hadn’t even gotten your glass of water. 
There had been other similar instances over the past few months. Logan just had a way to get under your skin, to cause your heart to go into cardiac arrest every time he looked at you, which made it hard to conceal your ever growing crush on him from literally everyone. Even your students knew about it, or at least had their suspicions, and you prayed they were too intimidated by Logan to ask him any questions about it. The last thing you needed was to get humiliated and have to pack up all your things and leave the home you had just created for yourself because you could no longer look any of your co-workers or students in the eyes again.
Especially Logan.
Things had escalated until you could barely look Logan in the eye anymore, and actively avoided him at all costs. The last thing you wanted to do was embarrass yourself in front of him, and though it was unpleasant you’d decided the best course of action was just to steer clear of him altogether.
Still, you allowed yourself some enjoyment, like watching Logan workout from afar while in a room full of people. The onlookers weren’t the best, but it was better than being alone with him when who knows what would happen.
“Like what you see?”
Storm’s voice dragged you out of your ogling, and you turned to her with a sheepish expression. “Maybe.”
She gave you a knowing look, raising her eyebrows. You ignored it, because you’d heard her suggestions many times before and found they didn’t align with your own interests.
“Go and tell him how you feel.”
And embarrass yourself when he inevitably rejects you? No thanks. You were more comfortable with keeping your feelings suppressed, continuously shoving them down, building a brick wall between them and you, to permanently keep them out. Yet for every single brick you added somewhere below you could feel three more being punched out, slowly destroying your barricades bit by bit. 
Your eyes strayed back to Logan, like they always did, yet surprise striked you when you couldn’t find him. Your eyes scanned the room like a man on a mission, only to realise too late Logan was heading towards you, a towel in his sweaty grip.
He greeted Storm with a nod before his gaze zeroed in on you, and you mentally added another brick to your shield, determined to keep him out this time. 
“Y/n,” he greeted, eyes never straying from your face.
You looked down, fidgeting with your hands. “Logan,” and, because you were incredibly weak willed- “did you have a good workout?”
You swear as you looked back up at him you saw the remnants of a smile on his face, but it was gone in the blink of an eye so you couldn’t be completely sure. You don’t think Logan had ever smiled at you, and you felt the bricks within you start to wobble.
“It was alright,” he said curtly, ever the man of few words. He lingered though, as if debating to say something, when it came out anyway. “I’d like it if you joined us next time.”
You felt your heartbeat increase. You felt the jump and the rapid incline as you processed what he said, your mind swimming.
“Me? But I just do illusions… I don’t have a fight worthy mutation.”
“Which is exactly why you should workout. Build your strength so you don’t need to rely on others and can trust your own body to do the job, regardless of mutations.”
It was the most you think Logan had ever spoken to you all at once, and you were suddenly feeling very dizzy. Logan wanted you to workout with him, to spend time with him. Could you imagine? Standing alongside him while he panted. Sparring and ending up underneath him, his entire body weight crushing you between him. It was almost too much to think about.
You cleared your throat, trying to clear your mind of unhelpful distractions, and found your eyes glued to Logan as he brought the towel to wipe the sweat from his throat, his muscles straining right in front you as he reached behind the back of his neck, wiping the sheen of sweat from his body.
You were staring, you knew that, but you just couldn’t find it in you to look away. It was a godly sight, Logan in front of you, sweaty and staring right at you. How were you supposed to look away?
“Uhm,” you mumbled when Storm stepped on your foot. If she’d noticed your ogling Logan certainly must have, and you felt heat rise to your face at the thought. “Yeah, maybe. I’ll think about it.”
Logan looked at you again, really looked at you, before nodding, slinging the towel over a shoulder. “I hope to see you there.”
And with that he walked away, and you felt the bricks tumbling, clattering away inside you, and you could do nothing to stop it until you felt bare and vulnerable, watching the man walk away with the realisation this might be more than just a silly crush.
You couldn’t let that happen. Couldn’t let yourself go too far, even though you could already feel yourself falling. You needed stronger defences, more barricades and walls. And if that meant more space between you and Logan, more avoiding and distance, well, you’d do it. You couldn’ let yourself go past the point of no return with him. You couldn’t.
Your avoidance of Logan had continued ten-fold. Whenever he entered a room you would exit. You would no longer spend time watching him workout or teach or do anything, really. You stayed as isolated from him as possible, and when you couldn’t you stayed silent, eyes fixed ahead of you rather than on him.
Others had noticed. You heard the rumours, whispers of a fight, a break up that occurred between the two of you. It was laughable, the idea that you and Logan had ever been together in the first place.
It was working though, or so you thought. You could feel your shields and barricades strengthening each day, and you continued to build them higher and higher, in the hopes you would eventually not need to avoid Logan, for he would no longer have any effect on you.
Until then you were determined to avoid Logan and spend as little time with him as possible. Unfortunately Logan did not share that sentiment.
You’d just finished up a class, instructing your students to have their homework prepared for next lesson and watched them all file out the door when Logan entered. It was so unexpected you hadn’t a chance to leave before he was upon you, his figure towering over your frame. His arms were crossed and he watched you with a frown on his face, yet you weren’t afraid of it anymore. Sure, you had been originally, but soon you’d discovered behind the frown was usually no ill intent, so you weren’t nervous.
Well you were, extremely so, but not about that.
“Oh, Logan,” you managed, swallowing thickly. “What are you doing here?”
Logan crossed his arms. “We need to talk.”
You winced. “We do?”
He let out an aggravated huff. “LIsten, I don’t know what I did to make you so pissed at me but it can’t be this bad-”
You interrupted him, confused. “Wait, what?”
He sent you a look. “You. Being mad at me. I don’t know why.”
“I’m not mad at you.”
Logan paused, looking at you with a scrutinising gaze. “Yes you are.”
You scoffed at him wrongly telling you how you felt. “No, I’m not.”
“So why are you ignoring me? And don’t say you haven't-” Logan said, noticing you’d opened your mouth to defend yourself. “I know you are. You have been avoiding me for weeks, and if you’re not angry at me I can see no other fathomable reason for why you’re acting like I have the plague.”
I frowned. “You noticed that?”
Logan scoffed. “Of course I noticed it. You don’t even come to training anymore, not even to watch like you used to. Why?”
You shifted uncomfortably on your feet. You obviously couldn’t tell him the real reason, otherwise all the hard work you’d done would be for nothing because you’d end up humiliated and rejected anyway, but you knew Logan could tell when someone was lying from their pulse spiking, and yours certainly would if you lied about this.
You grappled for something to say, anything, to shake him off your trail. “I have to prepare for another class-”
“You’re not preparing for shit until you tell me what’s wrong,” Logan practically growled. “I can stay here all day Bub.”
Well shit. You didn’t really have another choice. You were going to have to tell him about your feelings for him. Literally anything else would have been better. Anything else.
At that exact moment Jean walked into your classroom and relief bloomed in your chest. You were saved, you were safe. You could use Jean as an excuse and-
“She was avoiding you because she has the hots for you, Logan. Something every single person in this school knows except you.”
Well, not anything else apparently.
Logan let out a noise of surprise and looked at you, but your eyes were glued to Jean, horror and betrayal painted on your face. She mouthed ‘your welcome’ and left. What the fuck? Was that the only reason she entered, to butt into your private conversation?
“Y/n. Was what Jean said true?”
You opened your mouth and then closed it, looking like something akin to a gaping fish. “Define truth.”
Logan narrowed his eyes at you, not at all amused, and his silence forced you to continue.
You sighed, preparing yourself for the inevitable heartbreak to come. “Yes, it’s true, alright, but I never intended to act on it and I won’t act on it so you’re fine-”
“Who said I didn’t want you to act on it?”
You started. “W-what?”
Logan took another step until your chest was suddenly pressed against his. “Did I stutter?”
You felt like you were going to stutter if you said anything, so you sort of just… stood there. Waiting. For what exactly, you weren’t sure. Some clarity maybe?
Certainly not Logan grabbing you by the waist and kissing you, so firm and confident you couldn’t help but melt into his embrace. His hands were grabbing your waist, finding the dips in your curves and squeezing there, grabbing them and tugging you towards him.
His lips dragged across yours, adding an air of desperation to the kiss. You couldn’t help but bring your hand up to cup his cheek, thumb stroking his bearded jaw as he kissed you deeper, seeming for all the world like he was never going to stop. You were powerless to stop it, and you found you didn’t even want to. Your walls were crumbling and you gladly let them if it meant you could continue kissing this man.
Logan hefted you up onto your desk and you let out a gasp, muffled by Logan’s lips. He smiled into the kiss anyway, amused by your surprise, and placed his hands on your knees to part them so he could get between your legs. 
You immediately wrapped your legs around his waist, something he liked if the pleased grunt from his throat was anything to go by. His kissing became more fevoured, like he wanted to devour you, and you gladly let yourself drown in him.
That was until the school bell rang, startling you both out of the kiss. Or rather, just you, because Logan seemed content to move to your neck when your lips stopped responding.
“Logan,” you murmured. “I have a class to teach.”
Logan made an angry grunt and continued placing open mouthed kisses to your collarbone. You laughed and gently pushed him away, causing the man to growl and look at you with such irritation you’d think you interrupted his wedding or something.
“I’m busy here,” Logan said.
You had to physically swallow the breathless sigh threatening to escape your lips, instead saying, “we can continue this later.”
“We will continue this later.”
You smiled, almost shyly, which was ironic considering he was still between your legs. “Yeah?”
Logan moved forward so he could whisper into your ear. “Now that I have you Bub, I ain’t ever letting go.”
He pulled back and your smile widened, making a mental note to thank Jean when you next saw her. “I can live with that.”
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skbeaumont · 7 months ago
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Just a Graze | Joel x Reader oneshot
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One-shot Joel/Reader. Previously posted in two parts but thought I'd make a masterpost for this one.
Summary: Joel comes back injured, and while you patch him up the tension that's been building for several months threatens to break.
Tags/warnings: dirty talk, explicit content, language, injury detail (not explicit), MDNI, sexual tension, PIV, oral (F receiving), FILTH
Word Count: 4.3k
Joel’s bleeding when he gets back. The screen door clatters shut behind him, wire shuddering against the wood, and you look up from the table. His face is set, a solid frown painted across his features – nothing unusual – but there’s a downward turn to his mouth that you recognise as a pained expression. He steps in and leans against the counter, one hand on the warped wood, the other pressed against his shoulder. Blood seeps through his fingers, clotting around his knuckles, staining his jacket red.
“I’m okay,” he says as you spring up from your place at the dusty kitchen table, “it’s just a graze.”
“Bullet?” You ask, ignoring his attempts to wave off your concern.
“Barbed wire,” he says, letting you lead him further into the cabin, toward the misshapen couch, “stupid mistake, I didn’t see it.”
The shotgun clatters onto the floor at his feet as he collapses onto the couch with a groan. He doesn’t protest as you pull his fist away from the wound, your hand warm against his wind-chilled fingers. The cut isn’t deep, but the wire has torn through his jacket and shirt down to the flesh of his shoulder, leaving a jagged cut that’s oozing blood.
“You must be getting old,” you say, standing to search through your pack for the first aid kit, “your eyes are going as well as your ears.”
“Ain’t nothing wrong with my eyes. Or my ears.”
“Sorry?”
“I said, there-” he notices your grin, the glint of mischief in your eye. He sighs heavily. “You’re a damn pain in my ass.”
You huff out a laugh and pull a kitchen chair across to sit opposite him. You open the first aid kit – which is really no more than a small washbag stuffed with a bottle of Lysol and a handful of bandages – on your lap, pull out the disinfectant and start unscrewing the cap. “Can you take your jacket off?” You ask, and he nods, starts unzipping it and pulling it off of his uninjured arm. He winces a little as he peels it past his bad shoulder, shakes it down his arm and lays it over his lap, frowning at the gash in the fabric.
“I can patch that up when we get back to Jackson.” You say.
“Ain’t going back ‘til we’ve something to bring back.” He replies, and now it’s your turn to sigh.
“We’ve got two deer and a whole family of rabbits, Joel. There’s nothing else out here for us to get.”
“We both saw that clinic complex, and I ain’t arguing with you about this again. Winter’s well on its way, and we need as much medicine as we can get to make it through. I almost got in today – would have, if I hadn’t got caught on that damned barbed wire. We’ll both go back tomorrow.”
He fixes you with a hard stare, one that makes the hairs stand up on the back of your neck, though whether it’s through fear or something else, you’re not sure. You’ve been partnering up for a couple of months now, going out on hunts and supply runs, growing slowly closer over long hikes and cold nights camping out under the stars.
At first, he intimidated you. He was cold, harsh; a solid bulk of a man who never smiled and rarely spoke, except to tell you to keep your voice down or stop walking so loudly. But then, gradually, he’d started loosening up around you. A few weeks ago he’d cracked a smile at a joke you’d made – something stupid about a bird in a tree, the kind of joke your dad used to make when you were a kid – and then that smile had grown into a deep chuckle a couple of days later, and then a conversation, whispered and illusive, under a starry sky last week.
This latest trip outside Jackson had been the most enjoyable yet, conversation flowing easily between you, and you were starting to suspect that the strange swooping feeling in your stomach that arose each time he looked at you, or bumped against you as you walked had a lot less to do with how intimidating he could be, and a lot more to do with him.
Now, locking eyes with him over the opened bottle of Lysol, his eyes dark and with an argument boiling up between you, that feeling blossoms into something hot and delicious, stirring a fire in your belly that makes you bold.
“From where I’m sat,” you say, tipping the bottle of Lysol so that the disinfection pours out onto a clean swab, “you don’t seem to have much choice about what we’re doing next. You’re hurt, and I need to patch you up, so stop arguing and take your shirt off.”
He opens his mouth to argue but shuts it again, eyes flicking up to your face. A hint of red creeps up his neck, settling high on his cheeks, tinging them scarlet in the low light of the cabin. You keep glaring at him. He lets out a long breath through his nose and moves to unbutton his shirt. The shirt is old, vintage, even – probably older than you – with mismatched buttons and a crumpled, frayed look. It comes apart easily, Joel’s fingers working down the buttons nimbly until he reaches the bottom. He pauses there, looks up at your face. You look away, because heat is creeping up your own neck now, hot and unbridled, as he pushes the shirt off of his shoulders and lets it fall open onto the couch behind him.
After his dark eyes, the most notable thing about Joel is his stature. He’s tall, and broad enough to fill any room he’s in. You’ve seen him lift grown men like they weigh nothing, watched him pick up a dead deer and throw it over one shoulder without so much as a stumble. Last month you went out on horseback to scope a potential hunting ground, and, sitting behind him in the saddle, you couldn’t see anything past the triangular bulk of his shoulders, your hands clasped easily around his waist. So, yeah, you know he’s strong, could tell anyone that the man is built. But when you look at him in the half-light with his shirt off, uncovered by layers of leather or plaid, the sight still sends blood rushing to your face.
His shoulders are broad, curving into thick biceps that tense as he raises a hand to scratch, self-consciously, at the back of his neck. There are small scars littering his chest, running down in narrow white slices to his belly, which is softer than the rest of him, sloping and scattered with coarse hair that continues below the buckle of his belt. You want to press your face into it, kiss the contours of his bellybutton and the plains of his chest, up to the juncture of his throat, which bobs as he swallows, eyes shifting to catch yours.
“You gonna patch me up or just stare?” He asks, and there’s something teasing in his voice, something that causes heat and slick to pool in between your thighs. “I- you’ve got a lot of scars.” You say, stupidly, tipping more Lysol onto the cloth you’re holding.
“Had a lot of run-ins with barbed wire.” He replies, the words turning to a hiss when you press the wet cloth to the cut on his shoulder.
“Should be more careful.”
“Now where would the fun be in that, darlin’?”
Oh, that’s new. You’ve heard him call Ellie pet names before, laughed when she rolls her eyes and shirks away from his affections, all fifteen years old and too cool to be coddled. But he’s never called you anything but your name – never so much as shortened it to a nickname like almost everyone else does. You flick your gaze from his wound to his face. His eyes are dark, expression unreadable, but the intensity of his gaze makes you look away, cheeks reddening. You pull the cloth away from his arm and start wrapping a clean bandage around his shoulder.
“Sorry,” he says, after a pause. “I forget, sometimes. Recently.”
“Forget what?”
“That you’re young enough to be my-” He cuts himself off here, “that you’re a hell of a lot younger’n I am.”
This makes you laugh out loud, a huff of breath exhaled. You’re still opposite each other, him on the sofa, knees spread wide, you in the kitchen chair. If you inched forward only slightly your own legs would be between his.
“Old days I’d have been old enough to drink and drive, and more than old enough to flirt, Joel.”
“That what you want? You want me to flirt with you?” His voice is low, almost a whisper.
You shrug and hold his gaze. “I think it’s what you want too. I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I can’t see you.”
You have. He thinks he’s being discrete, but you’ve seen how his eyes linger on your legs, how he can’t help but drop his gaze to your chest when you wear something low cut. A few weeks ago you’d seen him adjust himself in his jeans when you stripped down to your underwear to bathe in a stream you’d come across after two days out searching for supplies.
“And how’s that?” He asks. You have to hold yourself back from leaning forward and kissing the worried crease of his mouth.
“Like you’re a man dying of thirst and I’m an oasis.”
He scoffs at that. “Shoulda been a writer, sweetheart.”
“And how does this story end?”
“Ends with you walking away from me like you should’ve months ago. This,” he flicks a finger at himself and then you, “ain’t happening.”
“Why not? You want it, I want it. I don’t see what the problem is.”
“Problem is,” he slides his arms off the sofa, reaching back to pull his shirt back up over his shoulders, “you think you know what you want, but you don’t.” He starts buttoning the shirt, fixing you with a stern look. “Trust me.”
He tries to stand but you put your hands on his knees, holding him in place.
“No way,” You say, your heart thumping in your chest, “you don’t get to decide what I do or don’t want.”
“What do you want? You want me to fuck you? Want me to spread your pretty little legs out across this couch and make you come on my tongue?”
Yes. God, yes.
“What if I do? What if that’s exactly what I want you to do?” You slide your hands further up his legs, holding him down on the couch. If he wanted to, he could push you off easily, but he doesn’t. When your fingertips reach the tops of his thighs he slides his hands over your wrists and pins them where they are, stopping you moving any higher.
“Find someone your own age, sweetheart. Someone whose knees don’t creak when the stand up. Someone who can make you happy.” And then he’s standing up, moving your hands off of him with ease, stepping around you in the kitchen chair to stride to the other side of the room, the tension collapsing in on itself as he tells you to get some sleep, that there’s more work to do tomorrow.
*****
The next morning brings rain. It hammers against the walls of the cabin and drips in through the leaky roof. Joel stands at the window, one hand on his hip, silently looking out at the downpour.
“Tell me you’re not considering going out in this?” You say, moving up behind him to peer out at the lashing rain.
“Might ease up later.” He says, turning to face you. “There’s enough to do in here to keep us occupied, anyway.”
“Guns?” You ask.
“Guns.” He agrees.
Joel’s fanatical about keeping the guns clean and working. It makes sense, you suppose. You don’t know much about his past, about how he and Ellie ended up in Jackson, but what you’ve heard, the snippets Ellie’s confided in you over quiet conversations, makes for grim listening. To Joel, those guns mean the difference between life and death.
And so you both sit at the kitchen table, meticulously cleaning Joel’s shotgun and your pistol, passing cloths and gun oil between you. You make casual conversation as you go, neither of you touching on the events of the previous evening. After he dismissed you last night you’d gone straight to bed, tucked yourself into the dusty single bed in the bedroom while Joel took the couch. Your dreams had been hazy and pleasant, and you’d woken up flushed.
You’re sliding the magazine back into your pistol when Joel jumps and swears, pulling his hand back from where he’s trapped his finger in the loading mechanism of the shotgun. A tiny bead of blood wells up and spills over his fingertip and he sighs heavily. You reach out and take his hand in yours to examine the cut. It's tiny - you've seen paper-cuts do more damage - but Joel's frowning like he's in pain.
“You’ve gotta stop being so clumsy.” You say.
“I’m not clumsy.” He replies, letting you turn his hand in yours, watching you watch his thick fingers, take in the breadth of his knuckles.
“No?”
“No. It’s-”
You're not sure what makes you do it - maybe it's frustration still boiling over from yesterday, maybe it's the way Joel looks at you as you clasp his large hand in your own smaller one -  but before he can finish speaking you pull his arm across the table and wrap your lips around his finger. You snake your tongue over the pad of the digit and the noise he makes then - a breathy, broken groan - sends fire surging through you, heat coiling between your thighs.
“Distraction.” He finishes.
When you pull your mouth away and place a wet kiss to the palm of his hand, he slides his fingers across your jaw and up into the mess of your hair. His hand is hot against your scalp, curving around the back of your neck, leading you forward so that he can fit his mouth against yours across the table.
Pleasure flutters out from the pull of his fingers in your hair, and his lips are soft and dry until he opens his mouth to you, guiding your tongue into his mouth, pressing his into yours. It’s slow at first. Tentative, as though he’s waiting for you to push him away. But you’ve never wanted anything more, and when you moan against his lips he stands, bracketing your face with both hands to pull you up from your own chair.
It’s a messy walk backwards from the table. You bump against the broken coffee table, pull away from his mouth to curse and rub your shin, but then he’s falling back onto the couch, pulling you down into his lap so that your thighs are bracketing his legs.
You pause like that, looking at each other, both breathless and dazed, lips bruised.
“This what you want?” He asks again, placing his hand at your jaw gently. His fingers are thick, hand so large that his thumb rests at your temple and while his index finger sits under your chin.
“I want you, Joel. Please.”
When he kisses you again, it’s hungry and animalistic. All pretence of hesitation is gone. He presses his mouth to your throat, lets his teeth scrape the delicate skin below your ear.
“This is still a bad idea.” He says, voice breaking when you roll your hips against his. ”Shit.”
“Please, Joel.” Your voice sounds tiny, shrill to your own ears, desperate and pathetic, but Joel bites at the juncture of your neck and it doesn’t matter, nothing matters except the feel of his hands on your hips, guiding you against him, pulling your clothed cunt against where he’s impossibly hard in his jeans.
“I’m gonna take this off.” He says, pulling at your shirt, tugging it up over your head. “And this.” He runs a hand over your covered tit, pinches your nipple beneath the thin fabric of your bra, rolls it between his finger and thumb while his other hand slides up your back and unclasps it. It falls between you, forgotten immediately.
“Fuck, darlin’, look at you.” He says, running the knuckle of his index finger over the swell of your chest, down along your ribs and across one hip. He lets his hand fall away, brings it back up to the side of your face, pulls your lips back to his and drags your bottom lip into his mouth with his teeth.
Pain and pleasure blossom through you, make you scrabble at the buttons of his shirt, fingers shaking as you try and get them undone. He helps, slides the shirt off of his back, careful where his shoulder is still sore. He balls it up and casts it across the room, then grips your hips and lifts you, turning you onto your back on the sofa, pressing himself between your open thighs. The change in angle presses the seam of your jeans against your clit, a jolt of pleasure rocking through you.
“You ever done this before?” He asks, hovering over you, dipping down to press a chaste kiss against your collarbone.
“I ain’t that innocent, Joel.” You reply, gasping when he pulls your nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his teeth. “Have you?”
This earns you a deep chuckle, a hushed whisper against the back of your neck, “I’ve been doing this since before you were born, baby.”
And, fuck, that shouldn’t turn you on so much but it does. It has your hips lifting up, seeking out friction. Joel notices and slides down your body, dropping onto his knees on the floor. He runs one hand up the inside of your thigh, presses his thumb expertly against your covered clit.
“I’m gonna take these off now, and then you’re gonna come on my tongue. That sound okay?”
You nod, voice lost as he undoes the button on your jeans and pulls them down in one motion, pushing them away in the direction of his discarded shirt.
“Look how wet you are for me already.” He glides two fingers over the front of your soaked underwear, up to the waistband to hook them off.
And then he leans forward, presses light kisses up your thighs until he reaches your cunt. He pauses, blows a cool strip of air against you that has you trying to close your legs, but his hands are there, pinning them open for him. When he seals his lips over your clit and drags his tongue over it you thread your fingers through his hair, pull at the black-grey strands. You squeeze your eyes shut but he pulls away, chastises you gently.
“Eyes on me, sweetheart.” His voice is like molten chocolate, rich and dark, pulling you back so that you gaze down at him.
He swipes his tongue over your slit, gathers the slick that’s pooling there. He’s like a man possessed, eyes dark, hair standing up on end from where you’ve run your hands through it, cursing and moaning as he slides his tongue over your clit, starting up a firm and consistent rhythm that has you bucking against him. His hands are gripping your thighs hard enough to leave bruises, his forearms corded with muscle, biceps flexing up to those impossibly broad shoulders.
“You gonna come on my tongue?” He asks, hardly breaking away from you to grunt out the question.
“Yes, Joel, fuck, please.” You can’t seem to form a coherent sentence, can hardly force yourself to keep your eyes on him where he kneels between your thighs like you’re an altar and he’s a lonely priest begging for repentance. It’s this thought – the idea of him worshipping you, tongue lapping over your clit, his eyes blazing with lust – that tips you over the edge. Your cunt clenches around nothing, body wracked with pleasure as you come, hard, on his tongue. He grins into your cunt as he feels you come apart against him, continues pressing sloppy, wet kisses to your pussy as you come down from the high, limbs shaking. When you finally push him away, overly sensitive and buzzing with pleasure, he rocks back on his heels, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Your pleasure is painted across his face, his greying stubble wet with your slick.
He crawls back up onto the couch between your thighs, dips his head to kiss you. You taste yourself on his lip; on his tongue when he sweeps it against the back of your teeth, heady and sweet. He presses himself against you, drags the front of his jeans over your bare skin. The buckle of his belt catches against your bare stomach and you hiss into his mouth, reach down to unbuckle it. It comes off easily, falls to the floor with a dull thud, and then you slip your fingers through the buttons of his jeans, undo them quickly, desperate to get them off. He stands briefly, pushes them the rest of the way down his thick thighs and then kneels back between your legs. Immediately you slide your hand into the waistband of his briefs. He feels like velvet wrapped around steel, hot and delicious in your fist. He groans into your mouth as you palm him desperately, sliding delicate skin over the head of him, feathering the pad of your thumb against his slit. When you draw his cock out you break away from his needy mouth to look. He’s big: thick, curving slightly to the left, head already weeping precum.
“Fist feels so good wrapped around my cock, sweetheart.” He tells you, “You gonna let me fuck you?”
It’s the easiest yes you’ve ever given. He chuckles darkly at your needy reply, pushes his briefs the rest of the way off and wraps his own fist around his cock. He slides himself over your cunt, coating himself in your juices. Then he’s notching the blunt head of his cock against your entrance, sucking in a breath as he pushes in gently, slowly, stretching you out deliciously.
“Good girl,” He murmurs, easing himself deeper, feeling you flex and clench around him, “good fucking girl.”
He stills when he’s fully seated inside you, sucks at a spot under your jaw that makes you gasp with pleasure, runs one big palm up your body to paw at your breast, trying to collect himself, twitching inside you with the effort of staying still.
“Cunt’s so goddamn tight, baby.” His voice is broken, pitchy and breathy against your ear.
You run your hands over his back, feeling out the breadth of his shoulders, the thin scars that lace across them, his muscles bunching and flexing beneath your fingers when he finally – finally – starts to move inside you, rocking his hips into yours, dragging himself all the way out and then gliding back in. The head of his cock hits something inside you that sends white hot pleasure jolting through your belly. The cabin is silent now – the rain has stopped – the only sounds are your frantic breathing and low, breathy moans, and Joel’s whispered praises as he rocks against you.
Good girl, so fucking good for me, letting me fuck you like this, cunt so tight around me, could come just thinking about it.
It’s dirty and sloppy and fucking incredible. The power you’ve seen him exert on infected and drunkards and raiders suddenly coiled over you, his muscles pulling you taunt against him when he changes the angle, sits up, pulls you with him so that you’re riding him, his cock somehow buried deeper in your cunt, your thighs bracketing him. You can feel yourself growing closer to release again, pleasure notching up in your belly like fire spreading. Joel shifts slightly again, makes space for his hand to come between you, places his thumb against your clit and presses, draws out slow, gentle circles that match the pace of his thrusts.
“Need my thumb on you clit while my cock’s buried inside you, sweetheart? Gonna come again just like this, huh? Dirty fucking girl.”
His words are like fuel on the fire and within seconds you’re moaning and shaking, cunt clenching around him as you come, harder than before, on his cock. Joel fucks you through it, keeps the steady pressure on your clit.
“Gonna make me come in this tight little pussy,” He says, and you know you shouldn’t, know you should make him pull out, but he feels so good inside you that you grind down on him telling him yes, please, fist your hands into his hair to pull his mouth against yours. The kiss is desperate and messy, all teeth and tongue. He hisses into your mouth as you buck your hips and drive them down on him, and then he’s swearing, fingers digging hard into your hips.
"Jesus, you feel so fucking good, baby, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna- shit.” He pulses inside you, painting your cunt with his come, hot and wet inside you.
You continue rocking against each other, slowly, coming down from the high. When he slides out of you and shifts away the old sofa groans out in protest, springs creaking. It makes you laugh, breathless, racking laughter than drives away the sudden realisation of what you’ve just done, of how you’ve indelibly changed the way you look at each other, the relationship between you.
“That was… fucking hell, Joel, that was incredible.”
He’s looking at you sideways, his hair still a mess, stubble still coated with your slick. He’s naked and vulnerable and you think it might just be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. When he leans across to slot his lips against yours you grin against him, trying not to think about what happens next.
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filled-with-fat · 6 months ago
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The ultimate guide to making your boyfriend fat 🥓🫃🍕😍
First, ask for consent. For those who have never heard of gaining, or have fallen victim to society’s relentless fat phobia, it might seem slightly unusual to want to PURPOSEFULLY pack on a few pounds. So start gently; talk to your boyfriend about how boring it is having to constantly eat healthy, and how all you want to do is to just give in to your cravings. Ease him in to the fat-way of thinking, how nice it is to not be obsessed about body image, and to be able to eat whatever you want, whenever you want.
Then, after a couple weeks, switch it up a notch. Take him out to dinner 2x a week, pre-order him a large burger with a side of fries, and don’t forget dessert. Buy larger plates so that he subconsciously eats more, stock the fridge up with cans of coke, and always leave snacks out. Gradually, you’ll notice your boyfriend getting lazier. He won’t object when you ask to get take-out for the 5 time in a week, or when you can’t be asked to go for a walk so just stay inside all day.
After the second month, cancel his gym membership. If he asks why, say you did it by accident when you called the bank, and that you’re really sorry. Buy him a large chocolate cake and a stack of donuts to apologise. Keep getting take out and leaving snacks around the house, keep bringing him breakfast in bed, and keep him preoccupied, so that his friends don’t start to comment on how lazy he’s getting. It takes dedication to be a feeder, but it’s worth it in the end.
Eventually, you’ll notice he’s gained some weight. His pants fit more snug than usual, his shirt stretches and clings to his love handles, his chin fat looks tight around his collar. Buy him bigger clothes. Buy him the biggest sizes you can find, and make sure they look identical to his last ones. It’s important that he doesn’t notice his weight gain, or at least, he doesn’t think he’s gained ‘that much.’ He needs to be under the impression that it’s just “puppy fat” and that he could lose it at any time if he wanted to.
But the thing is, he doesn’t. He secretly loves his chubby belly, his fat rolls stacked on his side, his wide hips and big butt, his cute fat pad and thick thighs. He’s constantly eating now, devouring all the snacks you’ve left around the house. When you get take-out, he encourages you to order more. When he wakes up, he yells at you to bring him breakfast. Everytime you come home, he’s always on the couch, playing video games, whilst eating several packets of chips.
Soon he’s totally succumbed to the feedee lifestyle. His belly spills out over his thighs, reaching his kneecaps. His arms look like rings of fat stacked on top of each other. He takes up the entire width of your couch. Your boyfriend has become obese, and he loves it. He loves when you play with his moobs, or when you squish and poke his big belly. He loves it when you squeeze his chubby arms and play with his back rolls. He worships his new body, and so do you. He was meant to be fat, he was meant to be unapologetically obese, you just helped him get there.
Share this to anyone who wants to get their partner into gaining! ⬇️⬇️⬇️
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saint-ambrosef · 6 months ago
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newbie's guide to produce
for all my peers who were not taught how to shop for veggies and fruit on a budget and struggle to use them before they go bad:
(disclaimer: prices are approximate based on where i live in the Southern US. costs may be higher in your area, but the comparison of cost should still be valuable.)
cheap produce year-round:
roma tomatoes. if they look under-ripe you can leave them on the counter for a few days. keeps in fridge for about 2 weeks. $1/lb.
cucumbers. around here they're 50-60 cents each. go bad quickly though, about 1 week in fridge.
celery. two bucks for a head. starts to get sad after two weeks in fridge. only makes sense if you like to snack on celery or make soups often.
corn. whole ears are like 20cents each mid-summer, otherwise just get frozen. $1.50 for a lb.
peas. get these puppies frozen for $1.50/lb. good protein, too.
romaine lettuce. one head is good for several small salads, about $2 and lasts a week in fridge. the big boxes/multi-packs may seem like a better deal but not if it all goes bad before you can eat it.
onions. kind of a given but you can get regular yellow varietals for less than a buck per pound. will last for 1-2 months in pantry.
potatoes. you can get 5lb bags of russets for three bucks. sweet potatoes are a lil over $1/lb. last 2-3 months in pantry; if they grow sprouts, you can cut those off and still eat it.
bananas. dirt cheap. a small bunch (4-5) costs like a dollar. if they go over-ripe before you eat them all just get less or get a few green ones (p.s: you're allowed to break them off larger clumps).
radishes. $1.50 for a little bundle. greens get wilty after a week, roots will last 2 weeks (you can use both parts).
hot peppers. poblano, jalapeno, etc., are often quite cheap and you usually don't need very many anyways. few weeks fridge or counter.
cheap produce when in season:
summer squash. in summertime (duh), zucchini and yellow squash are like $1.25/lb. only last a week or so though in fridge.
winter squash. actually in season in fall, these are your butternuts and acorn squash. less than $1/lb then. lasts in pantry for months.
green beans. in warm months they can be on sale for $1.50/lb! last 1.5-2 weeks in fridge? (kinda depends on the shape they're in)
kale. it's a cool-season green that commonly is on sale in colder months. $1.60 for a big bunch, about 1.5 weeks in fridge before it gets seriously wilty. (can be eaten cooked or raw!)
apples. fall/winter, usually at least one variety on sale for $1.25/lb. last forever.
oranges. most citrus are winter fruits. $1/lb. will last forever in your fridge.
strawberries. spring. at their peak, i can find them for $2/lb. otherwise they are too expensive.
watermelon. $8 for big 10lb melons. they can take up a ton of space though and need to be refrigerated once cut/ripe.
cantaloupe. another summer star! $1.50 each on sale. they will slow ripen in the fridge but you do have to keep an eye on it.
pineapple. $1.50 in summer time. might be ripe even when still a bit green, ready when they smell noticeably ripe.
pears. fall season, sometimes into winter. $1.20/lb. last 1-2 weeks on the counter or forever in the fridge.
pomegranate. in winter time they can be found for $2 each. tricky to peel though.
peaches. and nectarines (which are just fuzzless peaches). $1.25/lb in summer and will last for weeks in your fridge.
eggplants. summertime veggie, you can get for $1.50 when they're on sale. otherwise a bit pricey. keep in fridge for 2 weeks.
mid-range produce:
cabbage. three bucks for a 2-lb head but you can get a lot out of it. will keep 3-4 weeks in the fridge but any exposed cut sides will start moldering after a week.
mushrooms. white button or baby bella. $1.50 for 8oz. keep in mind, mushrooms halve in size after cooking. ~2 weeks though.
avocados. if you live in the South like me, small hass varietals are 60-80 cents apiece in winter. ripe when it gives just a little to squeezing (you can't go off color alone).
broccoli. fresh is $1.70ish per head and lasts a week in fridge. frozen is $1.50/lb but might be kind of mushy.
most greens. spring mixes, spinach, arugula, etc can really vary in price but often fall into a few bucks at least per bundle/package. in a fridge's humidity drawer they last 1-2 weeks.
kiwis. i love them but they're a bit pricey for their size. 50 cents each. their keep depends on how ripe they are at purchase.
expensive produce:
asparagus. one of the most expensive veggies. sometimes in spring you can get it for $2/lb (a steal but still a bit much). lasts 1.5 weeks.
brussel sprouts. same as above.
red or yellow bell peppers. they are used sooo often in recipes and it annoys me. often $1.50-2.00 each. last a long time in fridge.
caluiflower. three bucks for a head. yikes!
green beans. when they're not in season, they are like $3/lb.
snap peas. same as above, except they never seem to be on sale.
raspberries. go bad in 3 days and cost an arm and a leg. sometimes when they're in season you can get them for like $2 per half-pint as a treat.
blueberries and blackberries. even when they're in season, they're still $2 per pint.
grapes. they can sorta be affordable in the fall season for $2/lb, but otherwise they're double that. and usually you have to commit to buying several pounds. last 2 weeks in fridge.
plums. i love them so so much but they're only in season for like 2 weeks of the year it seems and they're like $3/lb.
inexpensive accoutrements: (for garnishes, seasoning, etc)
limes. 25cents apiece. they'll start to dry out after 1 week on the counter so keep them in the fridge unless you will use it soon.
lemons. usually 50cents each for the small varietals. keep same as above.
green onions. less than a dollar for a bunch, and you can easily regrow a few times at home if you stick the white rooted end in water by a window.
cilantro. 50cents. will last WAY longer (1-2 weeks) if you keep it in a mug of water in the fridge.
parsley. 85cents. same as above.
obviously sticking just with popularly available produce across the country. it's not an exhaustive list but can give you a bit more perspective on what produce you should be focusing on if you're trying to work with a tight grocery budget. good luck!
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kozumelts · 19 days ago
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the first time kirishima comes over, he leaves you with a splatter of deep, dark hickeys all over your neck. you'd been seeing each other for several months at that point, and he'd been eager–maybe overly so, feverishly pressing kisses against your skin, teeth catching on your nape.
you don't notice the marks until the next morning, when you're brushing your teeth in the communal dorm bathrooms. at that point, you're bleary-eyed and late for class, and the thought of layering concealer on seems like far too much effort.
so you throw on a scarf, weather be damned, and run to class.
when you finally make it to the lecture hall, kirishima looks almost shy, though his expression soon morphs into one of concern. "are you feeling alright?" he asks, watching you as you set down your things beside him. his eyes soften when you meet his gaze–then he's blushing, warmth dusting across his cheeks. "i mean, i just thought–you look really great, but, uh–isn't it a bit warm out for a scarf?"
you tug on your scarf, loosening the fabric. it falls away to drape across your collarbone.
kirishima leans over, glimpsing down at your neck. his eyes are wide when he looks back up, "was that–"
"yes, ei," you mutter, feeling the heat creep up behind your scarf. you tighten it and set your focus back to your notes. "last night."
he reddens even further–a feat you didn't think was possible. "oh," he says quietly.
just then, your professor storms in, rambling on about campus transportation and the lack of pedestrian etiquette in the vicinity. the two of you enter a bashful silence as the lecture begins, elbows rubbing together as you scribble down your notes.
it's only at the end of class–as you're packing up your belongings–that kirishima finally speaks, his hand warm against your upper arm.
"you look good like that," he whispers, the confession tumbling into the air. his eyes are lidded, intense–heated in the way they'd been the night before. "like–like you're mine."
you feel yourself grow warm, shifting under his gaze. the hall has emptied by now, leaving the two of you alone; unwatched. "we can do it again," you tell him.
his grip tightens.
"please," he breathes.
(he ends up back in your room for the second time that week.)
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sl-ut · 2 years ago
Text
you should probably leave
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pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader
description: joel is enamoured by his new neighbour, but old patterns will always be his downfall.
warnings: UNEDITED, slight age gap, slight smut, implied unprotected piv, protected piv, swearing, alcohol consumption, insecurity, angst, reader is given a birthday (she's a sag like me)
words: 10.8K (my longest fic to date)
date posted: 14/03/23
part two
(inspired by you should probably leave by chris stapleton)
OCTOBER 12, 1998
The weather was something that she was unsure if she could ever get used to. For her entire life, she had spent the entirety of the late autumn months dreading the first snowfall of the season before lugging out her extensive collection of knitted sweaters and fur-lined boots. Instead, her little archive of winter clothing was left in a cardboard box in her childhood bedroom, along with the majority of her other belongings that she had not brought with her on her grand adventure–if you could even call it that. 
The University of Texas at Austin had not been her first choice of school, or her second, or third; she actually had never even imagined going to school any further than a few hours from her hometown in Pennsylvania, and yet there she was, standing in front of her brand-new home, sweltering under the harsh Texan sun as she struggled to unload her packed car all on her own. Well, to call it her home would be a pretty tight stretch, as well as to label it as “brand-new.” 
The small bungalow-style house had caught her eye on a flyer in the grocery store, a listing for one female roommate in a cul-de-sac not too far from the city. It wasn’t exactly her dream home by any means, with an ugly yellow exterior and a kitchen that could certainly use an updating, but it she had recently been forced out of her own apartment due to her previous roommate preferring her boyfriend to live their with her instead and it was the nicest of the few places within her price range that would also accommodate the mutt she’d rescued during her first year. All things considered, it was quite literally perfect for her situation–plus her new roommate seemed to have been at least more considerate of her boundaries than the last, which gave her some hope that things might actually work out. 
Y/n grunted at the weight of the box, cursing herself internally for enrolling in school and owning so many textbooks as she lugged it up the front steps, dropping it just inside the door. She couldn’t help but grimace as she glanced up, meeting the watchful gaze of Manny, his furry little head tilting curiously–likely wondering why she was making so much ruckus and interrupting his nap. 
“Lazy ass,” she muttered under her breath at him, kicking the box to the side before trudging back out the door.
The next few boxes were filled with clothes and shoes, fortunately for her spine. She hauled several out, dropping each of them to the pavement of the driveway carelessly as she wiped at her sweaty forehead, apparently too enthralled in the work to notice the beat up truck as it turned into the neighbouring driveway.
“Hey there,” she turned to find a young man, his hair combed back to expose his effortlessly charming face to her, “You need a hand?”
She glanced down at the boxes at her feet, “I wouldn’t wanna bother you.”
A young girl appeared at his side, wide eyes peering over at the older female curiously. The man shrugged, puffing out his broad chest as he moved. Y/n almost laughed at how obvious he was being, only seconds after meeting her. The man gave off the impression that he had always thought fairly highly of himself, probably the quarterback of the high school football team, maybe even involved in the armed forces–the navy, she was betting. He crossed the barrier between the two driveways in two long strides, extending his hand out to her as he came closer. 
“I’m Tommy,” he flashed her a grin, his accent coming out thicker than it probably would have normally. He glanced over his shoulder, motioning for the young girl to follow him into the neighbouring yard, “This is my niece Sarah.”
Y/n smiled politely, shaking his hand lightly, “Hi, I’m Y/n. I guess it’s nice to meet some of my new neighbours.”
“Well, Sarah, here, is your neighbour. Me, I live–”
“What happened to Stephanie?” Sarah interrupted, “I didn’t know she was moving.”
Y/n turned her attention to the young girl, “She isn’t, we’re just living together now.”
Sarah’s mouth formed an ‘o’, the gears visibly turning in her head as she formulated her next question, “Are you guys dating?”
“Sarah!” Tommy choked on his spit, “I’m sorry–”
“It’s okay,” Y/n chuckled at his response before turning back to the young girl, “No, we’re not. I guess she just didn’t wanna be living here all on her own anymore.”
Tommy’s shoulders relaxed, the mortified expression leaving his features in favour of one that she might have even considered relief. He shook his head at his niece, giving her a hard stare, “I’m sorry about her. I figured that she would have some better manners by now–my mistake.”
Sarah swatted at him, a pout appearing on her lips as her brows furrowed. The girl didn’t quite understand how the question may have been taken with offence by some, and was quite miffed by her uncle’s insult. 
“No, no, it’s okay,” Y/n affirmed, “I think it’s actually a good thing that she knows about that kinda stuff.”
Tommy glanced down at the boxes, clear discomfort appearing on his features, “Alrighty then, how about these boxes?”
Y/n gave in, offering Tommy one of the heavier of the three boxes, while shifting the smallest and lightest to the young girl, who had been adamant in helping out. She instructed them to just drop the boxes to the floor by the door, not looking to take up much more of their time. 
A loud gasp escaped Sarah, her wide eyes falling on the mutt, who had appeared to have been equally as excited to see her as he rushed over, tongue lolling out of his mouth and tail flapping wildly. Sarah squealed when he barrelled into her, a fit of giggles leaving her mouth as he brought her to the ground and began to cover her face in slobbery kisses.
“Manny!” Y/n groaned, grasping the dog’s collar and pulling away enough for Sarah to sit up off of the floor, “Sorry, he’s just convinced that everyone wants to be his friend.”
“I’ll be his friend!” Sarah beamed, reaching out and squishing the dog’s face in between her palms, “I mean… Can I?”
Y/n shrugged, “As long as it’s okay with your…” She glanced at Tommy for help, unsure about Sarah’s parentage situation. He’d already made it clear that he did not live next door, but had never explicitly stated who did.
“You’ll have to ask your dad, Sarah,” He chastised her, “Anyway, we should get out of your hair now, let you settle in.”
Y/n nodded, “Yeah, thank you for the help, though.”
“No problem, ma’am,” He winked, southern charm on full display as he stepped out onto the front step, “Anytime for a pretty girl like you. C’mon, Sar.”
Sarah begrudgingly offered the needy pup one more affectionate squeeze before following after her uncle, leaping off of the step and bounding across to her own front yard. Tommy paused, hand resting on the railing of the step and giving it a firm shake. His lips pursed into a line as he let out a small huh as the bannister shifted out of its place, then back in under the pressure. 
“Yeah, Steph said there were all kinds of little things wrong with the place,” Y/n noted, “But hey, if it’s got four walls and a roof, it’s good enough for me.”
He chuckled at her, shaking his head, “You know, my brother and I are contractors, we could come over and help you fix things up if you guys wanted.”
She hummed, “I’ll mention it to Steph. Wouldn’t wanna just start making changes to her house while she’s not here, would I?”
Tommy hummed, “‘Spose that’s true. Anyway, I should go see where she ran off to, but I sure hope I’ll be seeing you around.” He shot her a cheeky wink before jogging back over to the neighbouring yard, leaving her and Manny among the mess of boxes in the entryway. 
Y/n huffed, glancing around at the mess, then at the furry little beast at her feet, who waited patiently for her to begin offering him her love and attention. She rested her hands on her hips, shaking her head softly, “Well, let’s just get this done, boy.”
– – –
Joel grunted as he clambered in through the side door of his home, sighing in relief as he slipped out of his heavy work boots and dropped the armload of groceries onto the kitchen counter. He could hear the TV on in the living room, drowned out by Sarah’s yell of a greeting. He rushed to put away the groceries, sticking the brown paper bags in the recycling before stepping into the dimly lit sitting area. 
Tommy was reclined on the couch, slumped into the worn leather like a pile of mashed potatoes as he balanced his can of Budweiser on his bent knee. He nodded to his brother briefly as he lifted the beer to his lips, hardly taking his eyes off of the football game on the screen as Joel plopped down next to him. The older brother leaned forward, pressing a small kiss to Sarah’s head so as to not disturb her as she worked on her homework on the coffee table in front of the couch before finally copying his brother’s position.
“The hell took you so long? You left the site the same time I did, and I had to go pick this shithead up from school,” he playfully kicked at Sarah’s leg, “plus I helped your new neighbour move in.”
“Supermarket was a zoo,” Joel moaned as he ran his palm flat over his face, then furrowed his brow, “What new neighbour?”
Tommy nodded his head back in the direction of the mustard yellow house, “Chick next door got a new roommate.”
“Uncle Tommy was flirting with her,” Sarah chimed in, not taking her eyes off of the math textbook in front of her.
Joel rolled his eyes, “Now tell me why I’m not surprised.”
Tommy shook his head, taking another large gulp of beer, “I know what you’re thinking, but this girl’s different. She’s not from ‘round here. Not sure where, but she’s got an accent. Canada, maybe.”
“You know what a Canadian accent sounds like?” Joel scoffed, knowing that his brother was prone to drawing his own conclusions. 
“Well, no,” Tommy frowned, “But I imagine it might sound like that. Doesn’t matter, I think I’m gonna ask her out.”
Joel grunted in response, turning his eyes to the game on the screen.
“She wasn’t flirting back,” Sarah grinned up at the two men, her eyes lighting up at the sight of her father’s growing smirk and giggling as his own laughter came tumbling out. Tommy kicked her again, only this time with a little more force, “What? You invited yourself over there and were all,” She puffed her chest out and deepened her voice, “Anything for a pretty girl like you.”
Joel rested a palm on his belly as he shook with laughter, his other hand landing on the top of his daughter’s head affectionately as Tommy crossed his arms, sulking. 
“I think she was flirting back,” he argued.
“She wasn’t,” Sarah reaffirmed.
Tommy leaned forward, “Now how the hell would you know anything about flirting, huh? You been doin’ a lot of it at school?”
Her face burned in embarrassment, sputtering for a response, “No, that’s gross!”
Joel frowned at her, shaking his head in feign sternness, “You better not be. Otherwise I might need to break out grandpa’s old hunting rifle.”
She didn’t utter another word, simply gathering her things in her arms and rushing off to her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her as the laughter of her father and uncle followed her every step.
OCTOBER 17, 1998
Just under a week had passed since he’d first caught wind of his new neighbour, and Joel had yet to even see this woman. He’d noticed the new car in the driveway, and he’d picked up on the presence of the dog fairly quickly, especially after he’d caught Sarah tossing some of the vegetables from her dinner over the fence for him. Joel hadn’t paid it much mind, he was far too busy to be concerned with some young girl who didn’t seem to be causing much issues. 
He’d had words with Stephanie several times in the past; once for blatantly smoking pot on 
her front step when they were heading out for the day, then for leaving her garbage bin too close to his driveway, causing him to back into it and scratch the paint on his truck, and then once more when she’d had a little get together that ended up lasting until 4am, when the police arrived. He would normally have called himself a narc for having the party shut down, but it was keeping Sarah awake and the door had been shut in his face when he went over to ask politely. 
The day had been long, and normally he would have refused Tommy’s invitation to head over to one of the local dive bars, but after dealing with the shit-show that had gone on at the job site that day, he really needed a drink. Sarah was out of the house, anyway, having slept over at a friend’s house, so there was quite literally nothing keeping him away.
“Brother’s night, my ass,” Joel grumbled into his glass, glancing over to the corner booth, where his brother had joined a pretty brunette, leaving Joel to himself at the barside. He waved at the bartender, motioning for another top-up of his whiskey. 
A figure appeared at his side, leaning onto the bartop to call out to the bartender. Joel glanced over, his eyes raking over her radiant side profile in awe. He shot his gaze back to the glass of amber liquid in front of him, then briefly over to the girl once more. His eyes narrowed in on her pursed lips, noting how her brows furrowed in frustration as the bartender migrated to the other side of the bar. She turned to him suddenly, and Joel whipped his head back around to ensure that he wouldn’t appear to be some creep–though he was positive he certainly had been.
“Is it always like this here?” She asked him, tilting her head. “I swear, I’ve gone to three different spots along this bar, and buddy keeps looking in the other direction.”
He cleared his throat, “You not from around here?”
She smiled sheepishly, “Is it that obvious?”
Joel chuckled, “Just a little. You gotta get his attention, be firm. Here,” he tucked his index finger and thumb into his mouth and let out a loud whistle, nodding at the bartender as he rushed over. 
“Two vodka crans, please,” The girl smiled prettily at the bartender, then scoffed as he turned to begin pouring the drinks, “Shit, I guess I could stand to learn a thing or two.”
“It comes with time,” He frowned, realising that he may have implied that he was at the bar every other night, “I mean, not that I’m–”
She touched his arm softly, electricity running through her fingertips and into his bicep, “Hey, I’m not here to judge you if you’re not here to judge me, heh?”
He nodded, opening his mouth to speak once more when another figure appeared at her side. His smile dropped, taking in the sight of his next door neighbour, probably one of the last people he wanted to see on his night off.
“What the fuck is taking you so long–oh,” Stephanie narrowed her eyes at the older man, who simply turned and took another long swig of his whiskey, “Hello, Joel.”
“Stephanie,” he drawled, “How you doin’ tonight?”
She smirked at him maliciously, “Fine. Y/n, this is the guy I was telling you about.”
Oh, this is Y/n, he thought to himself, suddenly understanding Tommy’s instant interest in the girl. 
“All good things, I hope,” he sighed into his glass.
She shook her head, “Oh, just that you’re the neighbour from hell, and that you’re a narc.”
Y/n tucked her bottom lip in between her teeth, visibly uncomfortable at the confrontation. His eyes fell to her mouth at the movement, wondering what it might feel like to take that same lip in between his own teeth. 
“You keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night, Steph,” he huffed, praying to any god that would listen that she hadn’t completely turned Y/n against him.
Stephanie sneered at him, grasping one of the drinks from the bartop and stomping off, leaving a thick tension over the remaining two. Joel met Y/n’s gaze once again, noting the visible embarrassment on her face as she began to laugh slowly.
“Sorry about her,” She laughed nervously, “For the record, I know that she’s a little dramatic.”
“‘T’s fine,” Joel grumbled, swallowing the last gulp of whiskey, “You ain’t gotta apologise for her, she can feel however she wants about me.”
Y/n chuckled, a genuine one this time and Joel couldn’t help but carve the melodious sound into his memory, “I’m Y/n, by the way.”
He nodded, accepting the soft handshake that she offered, “So I’ve heard.” He noticed the slight furrow of her brow before he clarified, “I’m Sarah’s dad.”
Realisation crossed her face, “Oh, Sarah! She’s a real sweetheart.”
“Yeah, she is,” he smiled softly at the complement, “She sure likes you, and I’m assuming that it’s your pup that I’ve caught her feeding her broccoli to?”
Y/n giggled at him, “Huh, I’d noticed that he was especially gassy lately. Here I was thinking it was something in the water.”
Joel let out a loud laugh, then realised that he had not actually introduced himself, “Shit. Sorry, I just–” he coughed, “I’m Joel.”
“So I’ve heard.” She repeated to him, clearing her throat before turning to gaze at him through her lashes with a soft smile, “So Joel, is this seat taken?”
– – –
Y/n had not expected to have enjoyed herself quite so much when Stephanie forced her to go to the grubby little saloon, feeling incredibly out of place among all of the southerners. She had been hesitant to leave Manny on his own so soon after moving in, but the last thing that she had wanted to do was get on Stephanie’s bad side so early on. Then, she’d stumbled upon the devastatingly handsome man sitting all on his own at the bar, and her tune changed drastically. 
She sat on that stool for the better part of two hours after Stephanie had fucked off, leaving them to become acquainted with one another. Joel had offered her another drink, which she accepted under the terms that she would buy the next round, and against his better judgement, he found himself doing a shot of tequila with her as well. She smirked to herself when she took note of the flush that had crawled into his cheeks, and how cheerful his dark chocolate eyes looked under the dim lighting of the bar. 
Y/n had noticed Tommy in the corner booth, and how he had been blatantly pressing his southern charm onto the brunette under his arm in the very same way that he had to her, which made her feel much better knowing that he couldn’t possibly be that upset about her doing the exact same to his brother. 
Her hand had come to rest on his knee, leaning across to invade his personal space animatedly as she spoke, her own cheeks flushing each time that he grinned or laughed at her words, and she had lost count of the amount of times that she had rubbed her thighs together or considered smashing her lips to his. 
Tommy appeared at his side, clutching his shoulder in his firm grasp, “Hey Joel, you think you’re ready–oh, hey, Y/n.” His cheeks had turned red, one hand self-consciously rising to rub at his cheek, where the stark red lipstick stain had once acted as a trophy and was now an admission of guilt. Tommy pursed his lips, “Wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight.”
She shrugged, “Steph forced me out.”
He nodded awkwardly, unsure of how to save himself in this situation. 
Y/n turned her head, catching sight of her roommate’s drunken attempt to seduce the bouncer before turning her attention back to the older of the two brothers, squeezing his knee once before sliding off of the stool, “Speaking of, I should probably leave, she’s gonna get us banned from here any minute now. It’s been nice, talking to you, Joel. See you, Tommy.”
Both men watched as she disappeared into the crowd, eyes trailing after her figure longingly.
Tommy huffed, “You think I still got a chance?”
Joel’s shoulders shook in a drunken fit of giggles, lifting his own hand to proudly show off the nine digits that had been marked into his skin, “Nope.”
Tommy’s jaw dropped, clear disappointment on his features before it was quickly replaced by pride, “Well fuck, brother. Didn’t think you had it in you.”
OCTOBER 31, 1998
Y/n wiped at the sweat on her brow, breathing picking up in delight as she turned the corner and the blinding yellow house came into sight. The sun had already begun to set by the time that she and Manny had set out on their evening walk, now settling low on the horizon and casting a golden hue to the world below it as Manny tugged on his leash, obviously also desperate to escape the heat. 
A loud honk sounded from behind her, muffled slightly by the music playing over her bulky headphones, drawing her attention to the dark pickup truck as it sped past, Sarah hanging out the back window with a grin on her face as she waved dramatically. Y/n chuckled at the young girl, allowing Manny to lead her into a faster pace as they grew closer to their house.
She slid the headphones down to rest around her neck, pressing pause on her walkman as Sarah rushed towards them. The girl paid very little mind to the woman holding the leash, instead dropping to her knees and reaching out for the excited dog’s face, laughing as he began to lick enthusiastically at her cheek. 
“Hi,” her gaze rose to find Joel as he rounded the bed of the truck, hand resting on the top of the tailgate as he tried his best to look casual, “sorry, this one never shuts up about that dog.”
Y/n smiled at him, warmth flooding through her cheeks. She’d only actually spoken to Joel a handful of times since that night at the bar, mostly simple greetings while Sarah occupied herself with Manny. Joel was too awkward of a person to try anything with Sarah present, and Y/n was too compassionate to question him about why he hadn’t bothered to call yet in front of his daughter. 
Y/n shrugged, “To be fair, he never shuts up about her, either.”
“Oh did he tell you that?” The man asked, brows raised playfully, “I didn’t know you spoke dog.”
“There are many things you don’t know about me yet, Joel,” She smirked at him, “Oh, happy Halloween, by the way.”
“Right,” Joel raised one hand to stroke his hairy chin, “Yeah, you too.”
Sarah glanced up from Manny’s pleading brown eyes, “Dad forgot.
Joel sent a sharp glare to his daughter, then smiled sheepishly at her, “Not too concerned about a holiday that’s got nothing to do with me, anyway–this one decided she’s too cool for trick-or-treating with dad this year.”
“Oh don’t feel too discouraged, I gave my dad the boot when I was even younger.”
“See?” Sarah pressed, glancing back at her father, “You don’t even like Halloween, I don’t get why you’re mad.”
Y/n widened her eyes and clutched her chest dramatically, “What do you mean, you don’t like Halloween? It’s like, one of the best holidays!”
Joel rolled his eyes, “Oh don’t tell me you’re one of those people.”
She pursed her lips, “And just when I was starting to like you, Miller.”
His eyes met hers, curiosity pooling into the dark mocha irises as he considered her words. He almost appeared apologetic; could he feel guilty about not calling her? Y/n did her best to not appear too shaken by his lack of contact–she hadn’t expected anything from him the next day, but after two weeks and still no call? She’d taken that as a sign that he’d been a tad too drunk when he had been so shamelessly flirting with her, and that he had no intentions of ever pursuing anything. 
Y/n was thankful when Sarah interrupted the pair, preventing her from spiralling into a nervous breakdown from her own inner monologue, “What are you dressing up as?”
The woman shook her head with a mischievous smirk on her lips, “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see when you come knocking at my door, huh?”
“No big plans?” Joel tilted his head, “I figured that roommate of yours would have you out on the town.”
She shrugged, “Steph’s out of town. Something about the drinks and the guys being stronger. Looks like it’s just gonna be me and my little guy here,” she gently clapped a hand against Manny’s side, “Well, us and a selection of horror movies.”
Sarah stood up, leaning into her dad’s side with her elbow, “How convenient, my dad will also be home alone tonight.”
Joel dropped his head in embarrassment–just leave it to Sarah to blatantly play the role of her father’s wingwoman. He refused to meet Y/n’s amused gaze, ears burning as Sarah continued.
“And he totally loves horror movies. He watches them all the time.”
“Oh really?” Y/n did her best not to burst out laughing, enjoying the sight of both Joel’s embarrassment and how confidently Sarah was trying to talk up her own father. She crossed her arms over her chest, doing her best to not make it too obvious how much she actually wanted to invite him to join her, but she didn’t want to display too much interest in him if he genuinely had none in her, “Well then maybe he should head to Blockbuster before all of the good ones are rented.” 
She raised her brow at him, signalling to him that it was his turn to make a move, as she would not be making any more. He nodded at her, red flooding his cheeks as he tried to muster up the courage to discuss the clear tension between them. 
Y/n smiled politely at them both, then glanced down at the heavily panting dog at her feet, “Well, I better get this guy out of this heat. See you guys in a bit, then?” She led the dog past them, glancing back over her shoulder, her lips pursed as she watched Sarah poke at her father’s side sharply. 
The young girl smirked at her dad knowingly, remaining silent, though the expression on her face made her thoughts very clear to the man. She scowled at him, crossing her arms over her chest, “Christina’s sister is so right; all boys are stupid.”
The man scowled at his daughter, watching in silence as she moved around him without another word, disappearing through the front door without so much as another glance. Joel scoffed, shaking his head at her, and wondering how the hell his nine year old could be so goddamn right about the situation. 
– – –
Joel wiped his hands anxiously across the expanse of his thighs, attempting to rid himself of the nervous sweat that had collected in his palms as he stood on Y/n’s front step, mustering up the courage to finally knock. 
“The fuck am I doing,” He cursed to himself, shaking his head as he ran a hand over his face. 
Y/n was younger than him; not by a lot, but they were still in very different stages of their lives. He wasn’t willing to admit that he genuinely did like her, and considering that she was still a young woman and still in college, he wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking for with him. Was it just some quick fuck that she wanted? Joel wouldn’t be opposed–hell, he was ashamed that he’d imagined such a thing more than a few times since meeting her–but he wasn’t sure if he could jump into bed with her and then move on with his life, nor could he expect her to be willing to just pick up the role of step-mother to his little girl. 
Joel had woken up on October 17, hungover as hell and struggling to recall any of his memories from the night before. He’d forced himself out of bed much earlier than he would have liked, needing to pick Sarah up before her soccer game. The man had stumbled his way into the shower, blindly going through the motions of bathing himself as the warm water slowly began to remove the fog from his mind. It was then, as he had reached out for his bottle of body wash that he noticed the smudge of blue ink on his skin, and then jumping in surprise at the memory of the beautiful woman who had given him her phone number–the woman who had him laughing like he hadn’t in so long and blushing harder than he thought possible–the woman who he hoped was now lying peacefully in her bed next door, preferably all on her own. 
The few times that he had seen her since then, he had thought about apologising for not calling and telling her the truth of what had happened, despite his embarrassment. He wanted to ask for it again, but every time, Sarah was there, making a fuss over the little pooch that never seemed to leave Y/n’s side. He wished that he were more confident in himself, more willing to speak to other women even if his daughter was there, but he simply would never be able to look at the young girl again if Y/n were to reject him. 
“Shit,” He swore loudly as he turned to rush off of the step, instead booting one of the carefully carved jack-o-lanterns onto the pavement of the driveway and watching in horror as it shattered on impact. 
“Joel?” He froze at the sound of the door creaking open behind him, smiling bashfully at the young woman as he did his best to not appear too guilty. Her eyes fell from his flushed face to the mess of orange at his feet, a surprised chuckle leaving her lips, “Damn, you really do hate Halloween, huh? Enough to come over here and start destroying my decorations, anyway.”
He sputtered for an answer, “I–it was an accident, I just knocked it off by accident on my way out–”
“Your way out?” She questioned, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the doorframe, “So what, you were just loitering on my front step?”
He scoffed at her, “I was actually on my way to apologise, but if you’d rather I just get lost…”
Y/n raised a brow inquisitively, “I’m listening.”
“I just–I’m sorry for not calling,” Joel admitted with a sigh, debating whether or not it would be best to explain exactly why, “For what it’s worth, I would have if I hadn’t washed it off by accident.”
An amused expression crossed her features as she mulled over his explanation, “You…washed it off?”
He shrugged and scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, “I did.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, as if she were trying to decipher whether or not he was being truthful, “Okay.”
His gaze shifted from side to side, uncertain as to what she meant, “Okay?”
“Okay,” She affirmed, “So what time did you wanna come over tonight?”
Joel swallowed the lump in his throat, “Tonight?”
Y/n shrugged nonchalantly, ignoring the butterflies that slammed at the lining of her stomach and threatened to erupt, “Tonight. You said it yourself, Sarah’s gonna be gone all night, so would  you rather be home alone or come over? Otherwise, I’ll just be here by myself, scared and in need of a devastatingly handsome cowboy to protect me from Michael Myers.”
Blush spread across his cheeks, his hands coming up to rest on his hips, “I don’t know about ‘devastatingly handsome’, but I think I could handle some asshole in a mask.”
She grinned at him wickedly, “That’s what everyone thinks, but I guess we’ll see tonight, around eight?”
“Eight.” He confirmed, then glanced down at the mess at his feet, “And sorry about your pumpkin.”
“It’s alright,” Y/n smirked, “You’ll just have to work extra hard to make it up to me.”
– – –
Joel anxiously adjusted his shirt, frowning at himself in the window of her front door. Despite dismissing Sarah’s teasing by claiming that this was in fact, not a date, he’d taken her advice in showering the moment that he had gotten into the house. 
He was aware that she was flirting with him, but until he had gotten out of the shower, towel sitting low around his waist as he wiped the steam away from the mirror and took in his shaggy appearance, he had not been at all concerned about what activities the night might lead to. Staring at his own reflection, nervousness quickly began to settle into his bones.
He had made quick work with the clipper, shortening the length of his facial hair after several weeks of negligence and leaving his lower face to be covered by a light stubble. He put a little more effort into his hair than usual, running a thin layer of gel through it while noting to himself that it was probably time for a haircut. He even took things a step further, dabbing a few drops of some woodsy cologne onto his skin; the bottle had gone untouched for two years, having been a Christmas present from his mother.
“Are you wearing cologne?” Sarah asked as she appeared at his side, face painted to resemble a circus clown, “I knew this was a date.”
“It’s not a date,” He argued, doing his best not to jump in fright at her appearance, “Shouldn’t you be out on the town by now, Ronald McDonald?”
“You showered, put on cologne, and you’re bringing candy? It’s a date.” Sarah listed, “And I’m Pennywise, by the way. Christina’s sister is coming to pick me up soon. She says that guys always dress up when she goes out with them because they want her–”
Joel grunted, glaring at his daughter, “I want you to stop hanging around Christina’s sister.”
Sarah ignored his comment, “Is that what you’re wearing?”
Joel glanced down at his outfit–a clean pair of jeans and an old t-shirt that he’d probably gotten out of a beer box or something, “What’s wrong with this?”
“What’s right with it?” 
Joel considered his parenting style for a moment, wondering if he would be free of this headache if he had spanked his daughter once or twice in her life. Sometimes he forgot that the girl was only nine years old with how intelligent she was and how much more mature she seemed in comparison to other kids her age. 
“It’s not a date, Sarah.”
She rolled her eyes, “It could be. Come on.”
Sarah rushed past him, leading him into his own bedroom as she began to dig through his closet. She frowned with almost every piece that she picked out, tossing them behind her recklessly and ignoring her father’s scolding for the mess that she had quickly created. 
“Hah!” The girl pulled out an egg-plant button down and shoved it into his grasp, “I knew you had to have something that wasn’t that ugly.”
He grunted at her, but didn’t reply out of respect for her brutal honesty as he quickly shed himself of the worn t-shirt he’d previously been wearing in favour of the one that Sarah had chosen. Now, as he stood at her front door and internally decided for himself that this was a date, he couldn’t help but thank God for his daughter’s awareness.
Finally, after tugging at the hem of his shirt, he raised a fist and knocked heavily on the door. Joel choked on his own saliva when she appeared in the window, smiling sweetly at him when she pulled the door open. She had already changed into a pair of black yoga pants and a sky blue shirt that exposed just a tasteful amount of her midriff. 
“Hi, again,” she breathed, a smile forming on her face, “You look nice, purple is definitely your colour.”
Joel burned, “I–thank you. Sarah picked it out.”
Y/n turned to the girl, who had already ushered the dog up onto the sofa with her, “Well she has a clear eye for style.”
“She definitely thinks so, that girl damn near harrasses me about my clothes everyday.” Y/n laughed out loud, Joel’s ears tingling at the melodious sound, “You look great, too.”
Y/n beamed down at her outfit, shrugging to herself, “Thanks, I thought about keeping my costume on but I wasn’t entirely sure how much you would be into Strawberry Shortcake.”
Joel chuckled at her, glancing down at the object in his hand, “I brought beer, by the way. Wasn’t sure if I should bring anything, or if you even like–”
Y/n reached out, snatching the six pack from his grasp, “Ever the gentleman, cowboy. So, you coming in?”
– – –
The house was filled with laughter, both having nearly finished their first beer as they shared stories freely. Halloween played quietly in the background, though neither of them paid too much attention. Y/n did her best not to physically melt when she felt Joel’s arm drape across the back of the sofa behind her, resisting the urge to tease him for attempting to cover it up by faking a dramatic yawn. 
She brushed her fingers along the top of his thigh, smirking to herself as she watched his leg slowly shift closer to her, though he didn’t address the affectionate touch. He spoke to her softly, and made an effort to hold eye contact with her as he did to–she was starting to feel some guilt about the conclusion that he’d drawn about him after he’d failed to call her. Her own gaze continuously fell to his lips as he spoke, and she was sure that he had noticed by the way that his lips began to curl confidently. Her heart hammered in her chest, wondering how much longer she would need to wait before he finally made a move.
Joel, however, was wondering exactly how he possibly could make a move. While feeling confident around her, there was no way to escape the fact that he hadn’t been on a date in at least a year, and he could count the amount of women he’d slept with since Sarah’s mother on one hand. At various points throughout the night, he had considered leaning in to kiss her, but had successfully siked himself out each time. The first time, he’d been interrupted by the pooch who had been jealous of his owner’s attention being focused elsewhere, though he could only blame every other time on his own insecurity.
“Do you want another beer?” Y/n asked as he swallowed the last gulp out of his can, “Or I have wine and pop?”
“Pop,” he scoffed, chest rumbling with quiet laughter.
She raised her hand and slapped his pec as she stood up from the couch, “Fine, you don’t get anything.”
He laughed, watching as she disappeared into the kitchen and shamelessly admiring the shape of her backside in the darkness of the dimly lit living room. He sat there for a few moments, staring at the movie in discontent, sighing as he ran his hand over his face and murmured a nearly silent fuck it, and following after her. 
“Is it too late to apologise and get that beer?” 
She glanced over her shoulder at him, smirking as she shrugged coyly as she turned and leaned her back against the front of the refrigerator and holding the perspiring can out in front of her, “You’ll have to come get it yourself.”
Joel crossed the small room in two long strides, stopping as the can met his chest, though he paid it little mind as she stepped away from the fridge, pressing a fleeting kiss to his lips. He froze for a second, stomach clenching at the soft touch. 
“Sorry,” Y/n whispered, though her tone betrayed how unapologetic she truly was, “Was that okay?”
He didn’t respond, quickly taking the beer out of her grasp and tossing it onto the counter as he cupped her face, capturing her lips with his and pressing her back against the fridge once more. She smiled against his lips, fingers bunching in the material of his plum coloured shirt and tugging him even closer. 
His lips were chapped against her own, the telltale sign of a busy man who hadn’t been too concerned with his physical appearance up until now, though she could not picture another kiss that she had received in the last several years that would even compare to Joel’s. 
One of his hands fell, fingers splaying around her waist as he pressed even closer, parting his lips as he felt the tip of her tongue prod at the seam and allowing her to seek out his own. He moaned at her taste, fingers wandering to her hip and hesitating, almost as if he had been asking for her permission to move even lower. She grasped his hand, guiding it around to cup her bottom.
Pulling away for air, she giggled softly and fluttered her eyelids open to find him already staring at her with blown pupils. One of her hands slid up his chest, tugging at the collar of his shirt before her fingers trailed over his patchy beard affectionately, “I don’t know if this is too soon, but do you wanna move to my bedroom?”
Joel chuckled at her, squeezing her cheek through her yoga pants, “Lead the way.”
– – –
Joel worried that he might have gone into cardiac arrest as he struggled to catch his breath, back slouched against the headboard as Y/n slumped flush against his chest. The cotton sheets pooled around her hips as she continued to move softly, working them both through the aftershocks of their climaxes. The man sighed in appreciation as her lips continued to slide against his jawline and leave gentle kisses in their wake, her fingers still lost in his dark curls.
Joel’s own hands squeezed her hips as she finally slowed to a stop, helping her slide off of him and smirking to himself at the whine she let out at the loss of contact. She shifted, moving out of his lap and curling into the cool sheets on the bed next to him.
“How was that?” He panted, “Have I done enough to make up for lost time?”
She grinned at him, her own chest rising and falling with her slowing breaths, “I think I recall doing most of the work, actually.”
“Bein’ on top doesn’t mean you were doing any work, sweetheart, I think we both know that.” His eyes fell on the digital alarm clock on her bedside table, grunting to himself as he took note of the late hour, “Shit–how the hell is it ten-thirty already?”
She glanced over to the clock briefly, then back at him, “Time flies when you’re having fun.”
Staring down at her nude form, guilt began to eat away at him as he began to slide off of the mattress and begin gathering his clothes that had been scattered around the room. 
“Are you leaving?” His back was turned to her as he pulled on his jeans, though he could only imagine the look on her face from the emotion that dripped from her voice; she was disappointed, facing the reality that she would be abandoned after doing something so intimate. 
“I mean…” Joel coughed, “Yeah, I should probably leave. Gotta work early tomorrow, and Sarah’s got soccer practice, and–”
“You don’t have to explain yourself,” She sat up, hugging her knees to her chest in an attempt to regain her modesty, “I get it.”
Joel couldn’t help but wonder how many times she’d done this. She seemed disheartened, but not entirely surprised at his decision to head out, as if she was expecting this time to be different from the others–as if she was expecting Joel to be any different from the other shitty guys she’d met since moving to Austin.
“Darlin’,” Joel cooed, coming to sit at the edge of the mattress and cupping her face in his large palms, “It’s not like that. I want nothing more than to stay the night, but I know that I won’t sleep a wink tonight if I do.” His thumb stroked her bottom lip as her mouth slanted into a small, saddened smile. He leaned in, pressing three kisses to her lips, each one longer than the last before pulling back, “Can I get your number? I promise I won’t ask for a third time.”
Y/n smiled at him, kissing him once more before snatching a pen off of the bedside table and scribbling on his hand, “You won’t get it if you ask for a third time, Miller.”
MARCH 12, 1999
Y/n sighed blissfully, gnawing at her lip to prevent any moans of pleasure as Joel worked himself into her over and over, his hips meeting hers with slow, meaningful movements as he did his best to keep both of them quiet. Joel wasn’t normally one for booty calls, though he had hardly seen her in the past few days and couldn’t resist when his mind had wandered while in the shower–and for the first time in what felt like decades, he could rely on the help of soft, feminine touches rather than his own fast and rough tugs. 
Her thighs shook, teeth biting into the pillow beneath her face as she pressed her hips back against him and arched her spine in pleasure. She met his thrusts enthusiastically, fingers winding into the sheets tightly. 
“Shit,” She gasped, “Joel, I’m gonna–”
“I know,” He rasped, “Shhh baby. Let go, I’ve got you.”
She didn’t hold back, allowing the white hot pleasure to run through her veins, muffling her cries in the plushness of the pillow. Her walls clenched around him, gripping him for everything that she could manage as he fucked her through it, head rolled back in pleasure as his own orgasm teetered over the edge. His fingers tightened around her hips, hauling her back against him a few more times before his seed painted the inside of the condom. 
His hands slid up from her hips, one pressing on her back to force her to lay flat against the mattress while the other cupped the soft flesh of her belly to roll her over. Joel took in her figure, eyes scanning her face for any signs of discomfort before dropping to her breasts; the man was absolutely entranced by the shape of her breasts, eagerly pawing at them during makeout sessions and suckling at them with the utmost love and desire as he fucked her. She smiled at him tiredly, hooded eyes admiring his own figure as he slipped out of her, sliding off of the bed and disappearing into the ensuite. 
When he returned, he wore a pair of black boxers and carried a maroon washcloth in his hand, carefully parting her legs and sliding the cloth through her folds, puffy and sore from his touch. He whispered an entirely disingenuous apology as he pressed lightly against her abused clit, chuckling to himself as she jumped. Tossing the cloth aside, he settled into the mattress next to her, sliding an arm around her waist and tugging her into his side, sighing in relief at the physical contact. 
The rising sun had slowly begun to peek through the blinds, filling the room with a soft glow in the aftermath of the third round. Y/n glanced at the clock on the far wall, sighing to herself as reality settled into her bones. She hadn’t intended on staying so long, especially after how eagerly the both of them had initiated the first round, having allowed herself to remain at his side until she felt his member begin to grow against her thigh once more. Now, after taking him inside of her three times over the past six hours, she knew that she would eventually need to get up and leave–a habit that they both had and hated when they were finished. 
She pressed careful kisses into his flesh, lips moulding to the sweaty skin of his shoulder and neck affectionately while her palm rubbed circles into his firm chest. Joel nuzzled his head into her hair, his own lips pressing to the crown of her head as he, too, appreciated the afterglow. 
Y/n’s body and heart screamed at her as she finally pulled herself away from him, hopping out of the bed and collecting her clothing from the floor. Joel watched her with sunken eyes, his attempt to remain stoic as he easily recognised what she was doing proving fruitless.
��You don’t–you don’t gotta go just yet,” he called to her, desperation lacing his voice, “Don’t gotta be at the site till eleven tomorrow–”
“Today,” she corrected, “And that’s in seven hours. Besides, I don’t wanna fall asleep and risk having to run into Sarah. I should probably leave.” 
He nodded slowly, continuing to watch her as she dressed and fixed her appearance, preparing herself mentally and physically for her four A.M. walk of shame. Joel wanted to call her back to bed again, to convince her to stay with him and promise breakfast in the morning, but instead watched helplessly as she disappeared into the dark hallway, and closed his eyes disappointedly at the sound of the front door closing behind her.
JUNE 2, 1999
Golden rays of sun peeked through the blinds, trailing up the length of the bed with each passing moment before finally gracing over the soft skin of the woman next to him. Joel laid in his bed as still as possible, one arm around her shoulders to keep her flush against his chest, savouring the intimate, domestic moment before it would eventually come to an end–it always did.
The alarm clock flashed the time tauntingly at him, as if mocking him for wanting to keep her there for much longer than he knew he could. This was undoubtedly the latest she had stayed in his bed; it was nearing six A.M. and she had yet to stir from her deep slumber. 
His eyes trailed the length of her bare back, his fingers pressing gently at the indent of her spine as he pushed her body impossibly closer to her and bathing himself in the feeling of her nude body against his own. Joel resisted the urge to shake the growing ache out of his leg as pins and needles crawled up the length of his limb, too afraid to move and wake her–he knew what would come once her eyes had opened, as she had done it countless times now. 
It was the twitch of her fingers against the soft flesh of his belly that alerted him to her growing consciousness, nails following the pattern of hair that covered his abdomen softly, drawing a quiet moan of delight from the man beneath her. He felt the curve of her lips against his shoulder, turning his head to meet her eyes as they fluttered open.
“Morning, cowboy,” Her throat was dry and her voice was scratchy, but her words still held the power of causing an eruption of butterflies in his gut. 
“Morning,” He leaned closer, the tips of his nose brushing her own before she swatted him away, covering her mouth self-consciously and mumbling something about morning breath. Joel chuckled at her, moving her hand away and planting a soft, closed-mouth kiss against her lips. 
Her smile grew, hazy vision flickering around the sun-lit bedroom as realisation dawned on her, “What time is it?”
Joel’s own smile faltered as he cleared his throat, glancing over at the alarm clock again, “Five-to-six.”
“Shit,” She groaned, a hand settling on her forehead, “I should probably leave. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” 
Joel shook his head at her, “You ain’t got nothing to apologise for. I like having you here.”
She pecked his lips again, fondness creeping through her at the man’s admission, “I like being here. But I should go before Sarah wakes up.”
Joel caught her arm as she moved to crawl out of the bed, “Stay.”
“What?”
“Sarah knows you’ve been coming around and leaving early in the morning.” He told her, thumb smoothing circles against her wrist, “She says she’s happy for me, but she said that she won’t approve until you start bringing that damn dog of yours over here when you come.”
Y/n chuckled, her eyes growing a thin red rim along her waterline, “What are you saying?”
“I’m asking you to stay. Every damn night you spend here, you go rushing out like this is just a quick fuck, but I think we both know that it’s a lot more than that. Just come back to bed, please.”
Y/n shook her head at him, glancing over at the rising sun through the blinds in contemplation before she finally shrugged, crawling back into the bed and settling against his naked form with a sigh, her hand resting on his chest as she massaged small circles into his sweaty flesh. Both of them relaxed into one another, enjoying the silence of the early morning and dreading the unavoidable fate of the alarm going off in the coming hour.
NOVEMBER 27, 1999
Y/n tapped her nails against the hardwood of the tabletop rhythmically, doing her best not to make her dissociation too clear as her friends and family chattered back and forth. Her mother was busy on her left hand side, sharing dozens of her favourite childhood photographs to Y/n’s friends with a fondness that only a mother could have, while the seat to her left was empty. The watch that she’d received as a gift from her parents sat on her wrist, the time ticking away as grief settled in her stomach, the realisation that he simply wasn’t coming eating away at her pride.
Her birthday was not something that she generally liked to celebrate, but knowing that her parents, siblings, and a few members of her extended family had orchestrated a trip to visit and celebrate with her had her counting down the days, especially after she had convinced her unofficial boyfriend to join them for dinner at one of the nicest wallet-friendly restaurants in Austin. Now, as she sat silently and watched as her friends laughed and cooed over possibly the most embarrassing photos of her while picking at their slices of birthday cake, her mind only wandered to where exactly he was, and how much more fun she would be having if she were warding him off of any of those photographs–especially all of the ones from her junior high years. 
She hadn’t had the chance to speak to him at all that day, having woken up after he had already left for work and dropped Sarah off at school. At the time, Y/n had smiled to herself, thanking him mentally for allowing her to sleep in on her birthday, though she was beginning to wonder if she should have taken the lack of birthday wishes as a sign. 
She actively avoided Stephanie’s gaze, wanting to escape the oncoming I told you so, and made as little eye contact as possible with her mother, who watched her sympathetically, and her father, who silently raged over the presence of the empty chair. Y/n now felt embarrassed over how much she’d actually gushed over the man to her family before dinner, wondering if maybe she was more invested in him than he was in her. After all, he had yet to officially ask her to be his girlfriend, despite the fact that she and Manny had taken up residence in his home at least four nights a week and that she had been included in more recent movie nights with him and Sarah. 
Maybe she was reading into it too much–something must have happened. Something happened to Sarah, or maybe Tommy had been locked up again. There was no way that Joel had forgotten her birthday, there was simply no way.
– – –
Joel’s feet ached, crying out in pain with every step and sighing in relief as he finally kicked off his heavy boots. The crew that he’d brought on for his most recent and highest paying job to date had given him hell that day, leaving him aching for nothing more than a hot shower and a peaceful night at home with his best girls. He hated having to tack on extra hours to his day, but not arriving home until after ten was something that he would have to deal with in order to finish the job, and he was hoping to save up to take Y/n and Sarah on a little getaway for a weekend in the near future. 
The kitchen was dim when he stepped in, and he was somewhat surprised when he discovered no plate of food left for him in the microwave, nor was there a pan of leftovers in the fridge. Instead, there was a single empty carton of a microwavable dinner on the counter along with an empty can of Pepsi. Not wanting to seem ungrateful, he shrugged it off, though he had grown accustomed to Y/n bringing dinner over and making sure that it was ready for him on days that he worked late. 
Soft footsteps rushed down the stairs, Sarah rounding the corner with a wide grin on her face as she held a small piece of paper in her hands. 
“Hey babygirl,” Joel kissed her head softly as he moved into the living room, even more confused when he did not find Y/n curled up on the couch with a stack of her textbooks, as she so often did while waiting for him to return. 
“Hi dad,” Sarah’s smile dropped, glancing back into the entryway in confusion, “Where’s Y/n? I made this card at school today but I figured I’d wait until after you guys came back to give it to her.”
The blood in Joel’s veins ran cold, his heart skipping a beat at the sudden realisation of why his house appeared to be so void of his girlfriend, “Fuck.”
“Dad?” Sarah’s wide eyes narrowed, all too used to her father’s undiagnosed case of short-term memory loss, though he had never ever forgotten something like this before.
“Shit,” He swore again, snatching his keys off of the counter and rushing to jam his feet back into his uncomfortable boots, “Sarah, go to bed. I’ll be back later tonight.”
The girl watched helplessly as her father raced out the door, tears welling in her eyes as she stared down at the happy picture she had pasted into the card and frowning as she feared the worst.
– – –
Joel arrived at the restaurant just before eleven. He knew it was a long shot, as the reservation was for seven-thirty, which he had purposefully written down and stuck to the fridge so that he would not forget. The few remaining staff inside shook their heads in pity at the man, quickly coming to understand his situation as he rushed inside, asking about the reservation with a bouquet of flowers in his grasp. 
His shoulders slumped as he parked in his driveway, trudging across the lawn into the neighbouring yard and knocking firmly on the door. He waited a few moments, cursing quietly as he got no response and knocking again. 
His frown deepened when the door swung open, a fuming Stephanie standing in his way. Her face burned scarlet, fists clenched at her side as she took in Joel’s pitiful appearance. She took a step forward, joining Joel on the front step and closing the door behind her. 
“The fuck do you want?” 
“Where’s Y/n?” He asked, ignoring her bluntness.
“She doesn’t wanna talk to you,” the girl sneered at him. “It’s one thing to stand someone up, even to forget their birthday, but to embarrass her like that in front of her family?” She scoffed, “you know, I warned her about you, but I took no pleasure in being right. You should have seen her tonight, barely spoke at all.”
The metaphorical knife in Joel’s gut twisted at her words, the fist clenching the bouquet tightening even further around the stems. He could picture her; all dolled up, chatting with her family as she eagerly awaited his arrival, her pretty smile dampening as time passed and eventual tears in her eyes as she realised the truth–he had forgotten about her. 
“Just let me talk to her,” he begged, “Please.”
Stephanie shook her head, “I think it’s best if you never show your face on my property again, Miller.”
“Joel?” Both of their eyes turned at the sound of Y/n’s voice, finding her peeking around the door curiously. “Steph, can you give us a minute?”
The woman sent Joel one final glare, patting her roommate on the shoulder before slipping back into the house. 
If the knowledge of what he’d done hadn’t been enough, Y/n’s appearance was the final blow to his gut. Her eyes were bloodshot, cheeks swollen and marked with visible remnants of tears. She wrung her fingers together anxiously, keeping her gaze lowered in shame as she closed the door behind her and turned to face him.
“Baby–” 
“Don’t.” Y/n interrupted, “Just explain.”
He sniffled, “I can’t explain it, or excuse it. We got held up at work, and I really need this job to be done and over with already. I’m so sorry, baby.”
She shook her head, lifting her sleeve to wipe at the underside of her nose, “You didn’t even say goodbye before you left this morning. Did you even remember at all?”
Joel bit his lip, “I’m sorry. Let me–”
“Joel,” Her voice cracked, “I love you.” His heart soared as she spoke those words for the first time, then shattered as she continued, “I understand that I’m not your first priority–that’ll always be Sarah and I can’t blame you for that. But, fuck, you suggested the restaurant, Joel. You spoke to my mom over the phone and promised her the best steak in town, and she sure seemed to like it, but you weren’t even there. I won’t ever be your first priority, but I can’t be your last, either.”
“Y/n–”
“I think my cousins liked it, you know.” She continued, wiping at her cheeks, “They’re the type to pray for your downfall, and I’m sure they were loving every second of the dinner once everyone realised that you weren’t coming. Hell, all I did all night was talk about how amazing you were, and then–” Y/n cut herself off with a quiet sob.  “You should probably leave.” 
“Don’t do this,” Joel cupped her face, dropping the flowers to the deck recklessly as he wiped the tears away from her cheeks with his thumbs, “Tell me what to do. Hit me, yell at me, do something, but don’t ask me to walk away.”
She looked into his eyes, and for a moment, Joel felt hopeful that she might actually listen to him, though all hope was quickly diminished as he removed herself from his grasp, reaffirming her statement as she stepped back into the house.
“You should probably leave.”
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juniperskye · 4 months ago
Text
It had to be You.
Sneak Peek: Modern Day AU! (kinda think late 90’s early 2000’s) Running into your ex at your mutual friends’ engagement party, that was something you had expected and were mentally prepared for. Him looking that damn good and the chaos that ensues…you were not expecting. Flashbacks are bolded.
Eddie Munson x Artist! Fem Reader
Angst/ Fluff (at the end)
Word count: 2301
REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!
Warnings: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! My blog is 18+, minors DNI, explicit language, past relationship, mention of reader having a troubled past, Steve, and Nancy are together in this (they work ok…sorry not sorry), nobody is dead!, no use of y/n, lovers to enemies to lovers, Eddie is unnamed until the end...idk I felt that it worked for this story (despite you knowing it's him), let me know if I missed any!
I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.
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You were elated when you got the call. Steve had called you to let you know that he had officially done it, he had asked Nancy to marry him! You knew he was planning it, hell, you helped him pick the ring for her, you just didn’t know when. You expressed your excitement and congratulated the happy couple asking them about the possibility of an engagement party. Nancy had let you know they weren’t planning one but would love it.
You immediately begun planning the party, creating an evite and curating the perfect guestlist. You called Enzo’s to see if they could accommodate a party of this size. Once that was confirmed and booked, you made sure to call in some reinforcements.
You had called Robin, Chrissy, Max, El, and Dustin. Chrissy had stayed in Hawkins; she went to the community college there and now teaches at Hawkins high. Max, El, Dustin, along with some of the others (Will, Lucas, and Mike) were finishing school at Indiana University, Robin had gone to Butler, and currently resided in Indianapolis. Nancy and Steve had recently moved back to Hawkins after finishing school in Chicago, Nancy was offered an editing position at the Hawkins Journal.
You on the other hand had been living in New York City ever since graduation. It hadn’t happened exactly as you had planned it…which is the exact reason you were nervous to return to Hawkins.
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“We’re gonna graduate, then we will pack up the van and hightail it out of here babe.”
“I was thinking New York. You know…that way you can pursue your music, and I can pursue my art.” You replied.
“That sounds perfect baby! Just a few more weeks and we can go.” He grabbed your hand and the two of you laid back against the pillows in the back of the van.
**One Month Later**
You pulled up to the trailer with your car packed full of your belongings. You were ready to get to New York and start your life! You were even more excited to start your life with him. You stopped the car and made your way up the steps, knocking gently.
“Hey kiddo.” Uncle Wayne greeted.
“Hey Wayne! Is he ready to go?” You asked.
“He better be, with all the noise he was making. Head on back.” Wayne gestured for you to go down the hall.
“Babe! Are you packed and ready to…” your voice trailed off as you entered his room, noticing the severe lack of moving boxes or suitcases. “What the hell? Why aren’t you packed?”
“I uh, I don’t think we should go.”
“What do you mean? We’ve been planning this for months; you were the one who always said once you graduated you would get the hell out of here.” You shouted.
“I know, but I just, I don’t think it’s a good idea. I can’t just leave Uncle Wayne, and who’s to say we don’t get to New York, and everything goes to shit? At least here we know things work.” He challenged.
“We’ll never know if we don’t try. Also, we’re stronger than that, just because we move doesn’t mean this is automatically falls apart.” You replied.
“I can’t go, why don’t you understand that? It’s not going to work. We can stay here and build a life. I have a job at the garage, and you can paint here.” He huffed.
“Well, I can’t stay here.” Your gaze drifted to your feet. “Hawkins is too small, we were destined for something bigger, which is why I need to go to New York.”
“So that’s it then? You’re just gonna leave?” He muttered.
“No. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to make me feel guilty for following through with our plans. If anyone should feel guilty here it’s you for tricking me into thinking that you were actually going to come with me. But instead, you’re bailing on me, just like everyone else.” You bellowed, quickly making your exit.
That day you had left for New York and didn’t look back. You had travelled to Indianapolis and Chicago to visit your friends, but you hadn’t stepped foot back in Hawkins since then, and you really weren’t looking forward to it.
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You spent the next week coordinating with everyone, in hopes of planning the best engagement party for your friends. You guys worked on decorations, who would get the happy couple to Enzo’s on time. And in just two weeks, you’d find yourself standing in the nicest restaurant in Hawkins Indiana.
“Oh my gosh, you look gorgeous!” Chrissy squealed, jogging over to embrace you.
“I could say the same about you! Congratulations by the way.” You beamed, gently caressing Chrissy’s now prominent bump.
Chrissy and you caught up with one another, and as the others arrived you greeted everyone and began decorating. Pretty much everyone had arrived except for Robin, she had been the person you assigned to get Steve and Nancy to Enzo’s.
You had been placing the last floral centerpiece on its designated table when you heard his voice. Loud and boisterous as always, greeting Dustin, and the other boys as he made his way back to where you were setting up.
“When was the last time you spoke to him?” Max inquired.
“The day I left for New York.” You replied, shaking your head as you straighten out the vase.
“You know he came to New York.” Dustin mentioned, having butt into your conversation. “It was about six months after you left, he went to the studio you were renting and saw you painting, he said that he didn’t want to mess anything up for you and that he wanted to make something of himself before he saw you again.” Dustin concluded.
You couldn’t help the look of shock that took over your features. “It doesn’t change anything. He made his choice.” You said with a sense of finality and walked away.
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Fifteen minutes later, Robin entered the restaurant with Nancy and Steve trailing in behind her. The room erupted in cheers for the newly engaged, the two of the were passed from person to person for a warm embrace. There was nothing to do but smile at the radiant glow that the two of them wore. The longer you were surrounded by all this happiness, the tighter your chest became, you needed air.
The minute you reached the exit, you felt relief, the cool night air surrounding you, finally allowing you to take in a deep breath. You took a few steps away from the exit and leaned up against the brick building.
“Was the cheerful mood suffocating you too?”
You’s recognize that voice anywhere. It was once something that made you swoon, but now it felt like a knife to the heart. You wanted nothing more than to run far away and hide forever. You had really hoped that by the time you needed to confront him, you’d have already moved on and started a new life.
“I didn’t realize someone was out here. I’ll just go.”
A hand gently gripping your wrist stopped you. Your head whipped around, fully ready to tell him off, but the look on his face stopped you dead in your tracks. He wore an expression that you were very familiar with. It was the same one that stared back at you when you looked in the mirror. Sunken eyes, dark circles, dull looking skin, clearly missing that glow that your best friends currently wore.
“Please just talk to me.” He pleaded.
“I have nothing to say to you.” You murmured.
“Then listen. Please, I have something I’d really like to say to you.” He released your wrist and his gaze shifted up his eyes begging you to stay.
“You have five minutes.” You didn’t have it in you to hold back the eyeroll.
“Thank you!” He hollered. “Okay sweetheart, where do I begin? I um, the reason I didn’t go to New York with you was because I was scared. And I know that sounds like some bullshit excuse, but I mean it. I was terrified that we would get there, and you would become this successful artist and I’d just be like this bum that was holding you back from being great. I just figured that if I stayed here that I’d have the band and the job at the garage, and nothing would have to change. Only everything changed, the guys graduated and went off to college, the band broke up and worst of all, you were gone. I really fucked it all up, which is why I worked so hard to make something of myself.” He explained.
“Dustin told me you came to New York. Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked.
“When I saw your studio, I saw you working on this piece, it was a big charcoal piece, and I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t want to fuck things up for you more than I already had.”
“The charcoal piece, it uh, it was. Did you see what the piece was?” You pressed.
“No, I didn’t. I bet it was great though. Sweetheart, I uh, can I show you something?”
“Okay.” You nodded.
He led you over to a motorcycle, he grabbed the helmet and went to put it on and turned toward you, offering you the spare. You glanced from the helmet to his face, and he offered a subtle nod. You placed the helmet on your head, and he reached up to tighten the chin strap for you. You let out a sharp breath at the contact, releasing a cough to try and cover it.
The two of you rode through the city, stopping in front of a garage you didn’t recognize. The logo was in large red letters outlined in white. A bright contrast of the black painted brick. He assisted you off the back of his motorcycle and led you into the building.
“This uh, this is my shop.”
“What do you mean?” You asked.
“So, uh after high school, I kept selling for a while, saving up my money. Then Rick got picked up and sent to prison. So, I got the job at the garage, I worked as many hours as possible, putting in the work. Anyway uh, I got pretty close with the owner and he uh, he left me the place when he died two years ago.” He replied.
“This is great. I’m really happy for you bub.” The nickname slipped out faster than you could comprehend.
“I have something else I’d like to show you.”
“Okay.”
This time, he drove you through a neighborhood you recognized from your youth. It housed beautiful (affordable) family homes, the ones that you had imagined raising your family in. These were the homes you still visualized when you pictured your future. And he was the man that you woke up next to in these images.
When he pulled into the driveway of one of the homes you were confused. He had always expressed his distaste of these homes. You had always known that the reasoning behind his upset was that it was the childhood he was robbed of.
Once you were dismounted his bike, he ushered you to the front door, gesturing for you to enter. Your breath caught in your throat as you looked around the home. You couldn’t help but notice all the details in this particular home, it had a large bay window with a window seat, a big open kitchen, and a breakfast nook.
“What is this?”
“It’s not done, I still have some work to do. But Wayne has been helping me put in all the things we had talked about. Upstairs we put in a clawfoot tub, and we’re working on the flooring.” He gushed.
“This is all a bit much, I uh, I…” Before you could finish, you were out the door and desperately trying to catch your breath in the front lawn.
“Hey, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I’ve been working on myself, trying to be better for you. I was gonna come to New York when the house was finished and talk to you and ask you to come home.”
“Bub, this isn’t home anymore. Hawkins isn’t my home. It never was. That’s why we planned to go to New York. Ugh! I just…fuck! You bailed on me; don’t you get that? You did the one thing that I begged you not to! You broke your promise and you let me believe that I meant nothing to you.” You sobbed.
“Sweetheart, I know I fucked this up before, but please give me another chance? I will spend the rest of my life trying to make this all up to you.” He begged.
“It’s my turn to show you something. Drive me back to Enzo’s.” You demanded.
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He drove you back to the restaurant and pulled up to your car per your request. You dragged him to the trunk and opened it to reveal a folded-up canvas, a box of your art supplies and a photo storage box. You reached into the trunk and grabbed the folded canvas, slowly opening it to reveal the piece you had been working on when he had come to New York. When you opened it completely he let out a breath.
“It’s me.” He whispered.
“They all are.” You stated.
You opened up the photo bin to unveil hundreds of photos of your work, all varying portraits of the man in front of you. You looked down to your shoes, watching as you dug your toe into the gravel parking lot.
“You see, I realized something through my art. Hawkins isn’t my home. But New York isn’t either.”
“What do you mean?”
“Eddie, you’re my home.”
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Let me know if you want to know what happens next!
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leah-lover · 8 months ago
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Meeting again. Alexia putellas × reader.
This is a look into the beginning of Alexia and reader's relationship before the big event.
This is part 1 of a series.
My life has been a bliss. As a Spaniard my dream was to join barcelona. I started out at the youth academy and moved up the rank until I found myself as a part of the senior team. 
My journey was full of ups from winning championships with my dream team to winning individual awards. However, I had a few downs, most notably my ACL tear. When I tore my ACL I thought my career had ended. My road to recovery was nothing short of hard but I got through it and came back stronger. I couldn't have gotten through it without my support system at barcelona. I had a whole network of loving friends who helped me, some I grew up with at the academy and others I met on the team. 
My most notable friend was alexia putellas, she and i met in my early days at barca. We bonded over our chosen path, and our will to do anything to be the best. In our early days of friendship I was always in awe of Alexia's eyes. I would find myself gazing into them for a long time.
One day while we were in the tactics room she whispered in my ear with the biggest smirk on her face “ you are staring people are gonna notice.”  my cheeks immediately turned red but i didn't say anything i just refocused my thoughts on the coach.
After everybody left the room, alexia and i stayed behind and closed the door. 
“Do you want to tell me something?” she said with a smile on her face. 
“ Always cocky. It's not funny anymore.” I responded, which led her to stop.
“ and i don't know if i should tell you anything.” I added.
“ Then don't;” she said. She then pushed me against the wall and started kissing me. The motion was swift but surprising. Without hesitation I leaned into the kiss. We didn't separate until our held breaths gave out.
“ Well, that answers that I guess.” I said, holding her hand.
Our relationship was almost perfect for 6 years after that. Of course we had little spats but nothing major. The world didn't know about us but our barca family did. We did everything together. We roomed together, sat in the locker room next to one another. We even captained our team together. She was a midfielder and I was a forward, our chemistry was pertinent on and off the pitch.
While our relationship was thriving, so was women’s football. More eyes were on us every year. The compassion got harder and we got better. We won several league titles,cups and even the champion’s league. The little spats started after Alexia won her ballon d’or. Alexia was a perfectionist, football was her life and it was mine too. We would get cuddled up in bed and watch hours of footage together and we both loved it. But the pressure was too much for her and she started to act out. She would stand me up for dates, not answer my calls, and leave me to go to bed alone. She made me feel like I was an inconvenience to her. I felt like I lost all priority in her life. 
One day I got home from training and left her behind like I had been doing for months. We were supposed to go  have lunch with my parents but she said she had to do extra training so we switched it to dinner. After about an hour of waiting after I got to the restaurant, my parents decided to go home without eating because Alexia didn't show up. She left me stranded  and ashamed. So I decided to end our relationship. I deserved better than to be number 2 in her life. Not after all we had gone through together. 
I got home, packed my bags and waited for her by the door. When she arrived I immediately got up.
“ You not coming to tonight's dinner is the last straw. I tried to be patient but I can't anymore. I love you, I always will. But I am leaving you and barcelona. I am not renewing my contract.3 i said, i then went to her and kissed her. Surprised, she whispered “ I am sorry, please don't leave.” 
I kissed her again and left. 
That was 3 years ago.
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azen13 · 6 months ago
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CW: Yandere Themes
Yandere!Wriothesley who meets you after you get sentenced to Meropide for some obscure rule engrained in the footnotes of Fontaine's lawbooks. The only conversation you share with him in your first few weeks at Meropide is a brief chat over food at Coupon Cafeteria. Despite his seemingly aloof personality and gruff exterior, his overcast-grey eyes shine with brief moments of sunlight. You've intrigued him.
Over your stay at Meropide, you find yourself chatting with Wriothesley more and more. Whether it be after finishing a shift in the Production Zone, sitting down for a meal, or walking back to the dormitories, you keep finding yourself running into him. Whenever he sees you, there's a brief moment of levity in his expression, his eyes piercing into you with their gaze.
Before long, your sentence is almost up. Your bags are packed, good-byes to new friends have been said, and promises to write have been made.
Then you get asked to report to the Duke's office.
Your heart is pounding as you're escorted in. Wriothesley is behind the desk, arms and legs crossed, an impassive expression blanketing his face before he notices you. He gestures for you to sit down, clearing his throat after the silence in the air starts to stagnate. "Care for some tea?"
You shake your head, confused as to what this is about. "No thank you, Your Grace," you respond politely.
After a sip of tea, Wriothesley waves his hand. "Don't call me by that title. Wriothesley is fine,"
You nod, and he seems pleased. "I'm sure you're wondering why I've asked you to come here today," he starts, interlacing his fingers and fixing his gaze onto you. Another nod from you, your eyebrows knit and face filled with confusion this time. "Well, I'm sorry to say that your sentence is being extended."
There is a quiet that rings in your ears like tinnitus after this statement is said, before words spill from your mouth. "Wh-wha...I...h-how?" You ask, truly dumbfounded.
Wriothesley crosses his arms again, tilting his head. "Destruction of the prison's property is a punishable offense. When guards went to check your room today as part of your release, they found multiple items, damaged. So, your sentence is being extended for the next six months."
When you open your mouth to protest, knowing it couldn't have been you, Wriothesley is quick to interrupt you. "Furthermore, in addition to your sentence being extended, I'll be personally monitoring your actions to ensure another...mishap like this doesn't occur."
You feel tears threatening to peak out of the corners of your eyes, shaky breaths escaping your lips. Everything that you've worked for above the surface, your job, your home, your friends and family, all of them are slipping away like sand in your hands.
Wriothesley sees this disconsolate expression, and his stern eyes soften. "I know how difficult this must be," he says, sliding a grey handkerchief across his desk, allowing you several moments to compose yourself. "I wish I didn't have punish you for this. I don't believe you'd do something like this, but it seems impossible for anyone else to have done it," he explains, sighing.
Another silent moment passes, before Wriothesley continues speaking. "A guard will escort your to your new room assignment. I'll come visit you after you've settled in. You may leave."
After the door is shut and Wriothesley is alone in his office, the corners of his lips quirk up. You had no idea. No idea how he was instantly hypnotized by you. No idea how he knew your schedule inside and out. No idea how much he wanted to love you, and how much he wanted you to love him.
This was only a necessary step. After he had ripped you from your roots and transplanted you into a better pot, once you had shed away the life you lived on the surface and embraced his love and affection, it would all be better. He would make sure of it.
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lunarw0rks · 1 year ago
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can you make a part 3 of first time with simon?
I feel like this has a potential for do many sweet but sexy moments with him
I love reading the way you write him, exactly how I imagine him to be with his partner
a/n: this made my brain go brrr... sure the merciless, dirty smut can be fun sometimes. but i struggle to picture that being a constant with simon<;3 here's some more "first-time" content to bounce off that.
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˖⁺‧₊˚ first-time pt.3 // drabble ˚₊‧⁺˖
♡ PART ONE ♡ PART TWO ♡ warning(s): nsfw, established relationship, fluff/smut, soft!dom simon is trying his best, overstimulation, reader anatomy not described, gn!reader ────have a request? ˗ˏˋ ASK BOX ˎˊ˗
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☆ Simon's consideration towards your needs, and only your needs, was something you both relished and despised. It didn't matter how uncomfortable he was, as long as you weren't. After assurances, after all the permission — he was still so damn tender. ☆ He had his distasteful moments, of course. But never once in the bedroom. After your first night together, of gentle and tender likeness, a sensual image burned into your mind. And then the first evening you went down on him — you wanted more. To try your hand at his fantasies, the urges you knew he buried so deep in fear of scaring you off.
Right now, all you could picture was letting him indulge. For once, you couldn't focus on the pleasure whilst he was trailing his tongue along your neck, grinding his hips against yours subtly. Your mind was packed to the brim with new desires — with no room for much else.
"Simon." You spoke up, halting his gentle foreplay entirely. He muttered a hm, peering his head up to ensure you weren't vetoing his intimacy.
Tonight was the night those waters needed to be tested. You could feel it in your bones and with every chill of arousal that coursed through you. Your proposition remained gentle, though neediness seeped through the cracks of them, in a manner only he be able to notice.
──── "We should try something new, something you've wanted to do."
☆ Now you were getting frustrated, but not in the way you were before. Pleasured, but damn flustered at the sight of him in this new 'persona'. Though, you weren't sure it could be called one yet because he had barely done a thing except the routine. Make you see stars and then do it all over again. Where's the fun in that? ☆ Not only had he used his hands into oblivion, but he was already eager to be inside you, to fuck you into that same oblivion. Like he had done several times now in your relationship. You had no doubts about how lovely that sounded, nor would you complain if that's all that you wanted. However, tonight was about experimentation, there was no sense in him holding back. Even if it was in his nature.
"You're allowed to be mean, Simon." you muttered against the pillow, squirming under the tickle of his breath on your ear. Your backside pressed against his hips, though you made no effort to wiggle them like usual.
A gentle scoff sounded behind you, playful but hesitant, "don't think mean is the word, love. Just don't want to hurt you, is all." He muttered, planting a kiss on your earlobe. Sure, he could be cruel, he could be authoritative. Sometimes his intimacy had undertones of his urges, but never so evident. It would be a slow ease, not an abrupt careless one. Something that would take months. If anything, tonight would be the tip of the iceberg, no matter how much you reassured him.
Your eyes rolled, this time not in ecstasy like the times before, "I don't seem hurt, do I?" The words struck a chord, sending a surge of certainty toward his next move.
Within seconds, you found yourself on top of him, commanding hands on your hips to hold you in place. You couldn't conceal a smile, despite his attempts at remaining serious. His brows were furrowed, but his gaze remained gentle, leaving behind any semblance of aggressive dominance. Your humorous reaction would've been coddled any other time. But tonight wasn't the night for that, was it?
──── Instead, he cupped your jaw enough to keep your eyes on him, calloused fingertips buried into the flesh ever-so-slightly. "Hurt isn't a word I want coming out of your mouth. How about that?"
☆ Finally, a taste of what you've been craving. The gentle dominance you always pictured on Simon, and by God did he wear it well. The harmless anticipation of what he'd do next was always on the tip of your tongue, similar to every climax that snuck up on you. A mere taste of euphoria — before you were plunged headfirst. ☆ It was moments like this where you truly felt the consequences of your request, yet in the best way. Not once had he given you a solid moment to catch up, unless it was to ask for reassurance. Typically, similar to; 'Is that alright, love?' or 'You like it when I touch you there?' The perfect mix of tease and his gentle nature, wrapped around the dirty phrases like an embellished bow.
When you couldn't keep up the strength to keep rhythm, Simon took it upon himself to aid you. He thrusted upwards to meet your entrance, abusing the spots within you over and over again. The muscles of your walls pulsed and remained constricted, permanently exhausted from the blissful misuse.
Every trembling limb was fighting the arch of your back, the cramp of your fingers as they pressed against his pecs. "Too much for you, hm?" Simon asked, half-way serious, whilst the other half was heard as a mock to your overwhelmed state.
"You'll take it though, won't you, baby? Been so damn good all night. Why stop now?" His words have turned to slurs, though his consideration for your comfort hasn't dwindled a hair. Simon flipped the position, lifting one of your legs onto his shoulder to hit places even deeper within you. Wherever this persona of his had been hiding so long, you're glad you convinced a bit of it revealing itself.
Whatever climax you were enduring right now, you had lost count. All you knew was how violently the pleasure was pumping through you, and how his continued thrusts were heightening the experience. Not only that but his teases, the rumble of his deep voice in close proximity to your ear. By no means was it a seamless affair; it had taken several minutes of trial and error until he learned all the right ways to make you lose your composure.
With warm breaths escaping both of you, he sealed your lips with his own, allowing you to writhe in a more controlled manner. Simon had no clue whether he was nailing this, or if you'd ever want him to take charge again. By no means was he being aggressive, but to him, it was a significant step. Your reactions said enough, given the fact that he had rendered you speechless.
Sweat pooled on the glands of your forehead, dooming you to a disheveled appearance. After this long, after countless orgasms, your appearance held little weight in the equation. The phrase 'fucked-out' couldn't have rung more truthfully. Your back relaxed, finally un-arching as his thrusts calmed — the moment he decided to ease up.
"Was that okay?" He spoke when he pulled away from the kiss, letting your fatigued leg slide down until you were lying flat below him again, legs still parted. His plunges were still deep, but now more lenient.
Even on the brink of his release, his cares fell on you, not the selfish greed of ravishing you. You nodded your head, letting a reassuring smile spread across your face.
"Perfect, Simon," you breathed heavily, holding his waist as the bed creaked beneath his pressing weight. "I'm alright." He returned the slightest hint of an amused beam, using your assurance to fuel his own release.
One palm roamed the side and back of your thigh, the other roamed along your waist, as if his fingertips needed to memorize every patch of flesh to ensure you weren't going to recant your original proposition. "Fuck, 'm close, love. Christ, you're perfect wrapped around me." Despite how desperately his toned body yearned for release, his thrusts didn't once get rougher again. He was savoring this, like taking it slow was a sweet reward for the both of you. It was, even just laying back and observing the intoxication he had for your body.
Seconds later, he lost his control. His hips halted, fists balling against the sheets instead of your flesh as he clamped around the fabric with all his might, letting out a guttural groan as he spilled within you once again. The other hand soon reached out for the nightstand, holding the edge as he endured the brunt of his climax. In the process, he sent your stack of books tumbling to the hard floor.
The noisy thumps startled you, eyes peering over the edge of the bed as they stumbled from the force of his hand shooting out. His eyes snapped open as well, shaking his head when he saw the hitch in a night nearing perfection.
Simon shook his head, gaze switching from the disordered scene beside the bed back to your look of shock. "My bad, sweetheart. You bring out the worst in me, don't you?" He spoke frivolously, running his thumb along the flushed, damp flesh of your cheek.
A chuckle erupted from you as the clumsy happening soured any sensual mood in the room. "Think that's your sign to settle down, big boy." You hooked your arms around his shoulders, forcing his weight to collapse on your chest — or he made you think you did. Either way, the pressing weight of him atop you was soothing and secure, the same as any time you cuddled.
The snuggle didn't last long, not after you dropped such a bomb. His head perked up from the crock of your neck, now with a scowl painted on his face. "Did I hear that right?"
Warmth consumed your cheeks, a noticeable discomfiture to him when you broke into another fit of snickering. His faux-anger was a hilarious sight of his own but paired with the book mishap — it was ridiculous. "Alright, grumpy, I won't call you it again." You retorted sarcastically, using dramatics when you attempted to roll over. There was nothing he hated more than a bratty cold shoulder, even in pure contexts.
Simon subdued you with ease, forcing you to straddle him all over again. Only this time, it wasn't in a sexual sense — it was petty vengeance for the name-calling. "Grumpy, hm?" He teased, forcing you to sink all your weight onto his lap, not allowing any resistance.
"Bloody smartmouth, you are. I think I'll keep you here, like this, until you can't take it." Your squirms were entertainment at best, doing little to wrangle yourself out of the confines of his hands. Instead, you just exhausted yourself even further.
Despite what he'd said, he stopped when you admitted defeat. The sigh escaped your lips, prompting you to slump your posture as you perched on his lap. You eagerly reached out your hands, intertwining and playing with his as they did the same.
You were a prisoner on this lap — yet you had no desire to flee.
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muffinpink02 · 6 months ago
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Bronze Is Better Then Gold Part 4
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Warnings - smut 18
“Right, it's only a small cut. I’ll give it a clean, just to be safe.” Lauren H said, as she opened up the medic bag.
“Thank you.” Ona sighed. 
“This might sting.” 
“It's fine- oww! That hurts.” Ona scowled. 
Lauren laughed. “I did say it was going to hurt.” 
Lucy walked over to the pair, a look on her face that Ona didn't like. 
“The boss wants to talk to us.” Lucy looked between her and Lauren.
Ona let out a sigh, forgetting about the sting of the alcohol on her cut. “Shit.”
Lauren packed away the medical bag. “You’re all done. Good luck guys.” She scurried away.
Lucy drove them back to the office. She looked over at the younger brunette, she looked more scared now then she did on the bridge. “Don’t stress too much. She's just going to be a bit pissed, but it's not going to be that bad. Trust me, I’ve done worse.” 
Ona looked over at Lucy, a small smile crept on her face. “You sure?”
Lucy scrunched up her face and waved her hand. “Pssh yeah, she's a pussy cat.” 
They drove the rest of the way in silence but it didn’t feel strained or awkward, it was needed after what just happened, it was comfortable like it was before. 
Sarina wasn't a pussy cat, but she wasn't as angry as Lucy thought she'd be either. 
“What were you thinking, Ona? No, don't answer that, I don't want to know. I’ll tell you what you were thinking. Nothing! Nothing smart could have gone through your head when you decided to run off and chase an extremely dangerous criminal without your partner, without any backup. You didn't even have your gun! It was the most irresponsible thing an agent could do, and you did it. I expected better from you, Ona.”
Ona hung her head. “I’m sorry.”
“She just didn't want him to get away, mam. if it makes you feel any better she did a number on his face.” Lucy chuckled lightly.
Sarina now had her attention on Lucy who was standing next to Ona. 
“Don’t you start. Don't think I haven’t noticed a shift in you. I don’t know what's going on with the pair of you but I want it sorted.”
The girls shifted awkwardly on their spots.
Sarina sighed. “Leave.”
The girls left. Neither looking back. 
The thing is, Ona wouldn't tell you this, but she had run after Slims in some small hope that Lucy would talk to her again, to even have her look at her for longer than 5 seconds. It was also out of instinct but in the back of her mind she was hoping if she caught Slims, Lucy might want to be her friend again. She knew it was silly but she was desperate. But, she probably did the reverse, and made Lucy even more angry with her.
Only if she knew that when Lucy had got home that night she broke down crying the moment she closed her door. The older brunette didn't get further than her hallway when she felt the hot tears streaming down her face.
A rush of emotions hit her hard. Seeing Ona in danger like she did today was a complete shock to the system. Lucy had felt completely helpless, seeing the younger girl trapped like she did, the pain she was in, and she couldn't do anything to protect her. It was one of the scariest positions she’d ever been in, and that’s coming from someone who has had several guns pointing at her. Not all at once of course, but the girl had been in life threatening situations. But this was scary, and it was scary because it was Ona. 
And she should know better, this wasn't the first time she had been in a situation of losing someone close to her. She was just thankful history hadn’t repeated itself. 
That's when she sobbed harder as she thought about how she had treated the younger girl this last month. How horrible she had been to her, hardly talking to her, being so fucking cold towards her, how selfish she had been. If she had lost Ona today she would never have forgiven herself. She knew she was handling the situation badly, and this was a wake up call.
The thought alone at losing Ona in any way frightened her deeply. She realised if Ona wanted her as just a friend then she was lucky enough to have that. Even if she did want her as so much more. 
She knew she needed to fix things.
She took herself to shower, washing her puffy face, her head was banging from all of her crying. She took a deep breath as she washed the day away. She made her way to her bedroom and looked at her phone, she began to type.
Lucy - Hey, can I pick you up tomorrow?
Ona was drying her hair when she got the text from the older brunette. Like Lucy, she had tried to wash the stressful day off herself, especially her hair. She was shocked to see a text from the older brunette. And when she read it she was even more shocked and slightly confused. Why did she want to pick her up? She was annoyed at how her stomach fluttered, she did still like Lucy after all. But those butterflies died quickly, she assumed Lucy was probably going to give her a hard time about her actions, tell her how foolish it was to run off without her partner. She dried the rest of her hair before she replied.
Ona - Sure, I’ll see you then
Lucy smiled, it wasn't like their texts before, but it was a start.
—-------------
Lucy pulled up in her spot where she would always park, she smiled when she saw the shorter girl sitting at her usual spot on the wall. The northerners' hands were sweating, she really hoped it wasn't too late to make things up with Ona.
The Spaniard took a deep breath as she approached the car, she braced herself to be scolded by Lucy. She kind of regretted agreeing to this, was it too late to run back to her flat? Ona sat in the passenger seat, looking over at Lucy with a timid smile, she was understandably nervous. Lucy had been nothing but weird with her, and frankly rude, she was unsure what she could have wanted.
Lucy smiled a little awkwardly at the younger brunette, she could tell the Spaniard was confused and maybe even a bit scared. Ona wasn’t really herself around her anymore, it broke her heart to see, but she knew it was her own fault. 
“Morning.” Lucy smiled.
“Good morning.” Ona breathed out.
Nearly 10 seconds had passed, Lucy was struggling to find the words that she had practised all last night.
“Ona, I...,” - “So..,” Both girls spoke over the other, making them nervously laugh. 
Lucy took a deep breath.
“Ona, I don’t really know where to start. I’m sorry for being such a dick. I know I’ve been weird this last month. I was just going through some personal stuff and it’s no excuse but it got in the way of my work and affected my relationship with you. And I regret it. I’m really sorry.” She breathed out. “I fucked up, but I really hope I can be your friend again. And if you don’t want that, I understand.” 
Well, Ona wasn't expecting that. Was she happy to hear Lucy apologise? Yes, but she couldn't help but wonder, why? Why did Lucy act that way? They were so close before, close in many ways. She wanted to ask what Lucy meant with ‘personal stuff.’ but she didn't want to rock the boat, this was already a surprise. And a happy surprise at that, Ona wasn't one for holding grudges, even though Ona was young she was just a little more mature than some people her age, and maybe older. 
Ona looked at Lucy, doing that thing where she could see into her soul, her big brown chocolate eyes looking right at her. 
She smiled brightly. “Sí, you were a dick, but It’s okay, these things happen. I would really like to go back to how we were, friends.” 
They both said the word loud and clear ‘friend’, the pair flinching at the fact that they both had said it. But that's what this relationship was now, and always had been. Friends.
“I err, also got you some fresh coffee and some fresh chocolate chip muffins.” Lucy held up the bag smiling gingerly. 
Ona chuckled sweetly. “Okay, that makes it a little better.” 
Lucy felt a little tension leave her shoulders as she passed Ona over her coffee, it may not be perfect but was a start.
—-------------
“Do we have to listen to Christmas music everyday? Mariah Carey is getting on my nerves.” Lucy covered her face in annoyance. 
“Get a grip Bronze, it happens every year. Stop being a grinch!” Jess shouted across the room, laughing with Lauren H.
It was the second week of December, Ona eyed up the newly hung Christmas decorations around the office. She couldn't keep the smile off her face, the Spaniard loved Christmas, it was her favourite time of year.
She loved the music, the food, the gifts, the drinks, the cheesy Christmas movies, but most of all she loved that it was an excuse to be with your loved ones. Though some years were hard, not being able to share it with her family. Her fondest memories was when she was a child, herself and her brother used to try and keep each other awake to spot Father Christmas, though they never did. 
The first year Ona arrived in London she had spent Christmas alone. She had hoped to get a call or card from her parents but they never did. She tried to call, but they didn't answer when they saw it was her number. Her brother called her secretly, but that only hurt her more.
Her friend's face timed her throughout the day, but she insisted they spent the day with their families, not wanting to bother them. So, she spent Christmas alone, she even went into the new years alone.
She had never cried so much in her life. It hurt her, not being able to be with the people she loved, but her parents didn’t want anything to do with her, even if it was Christmas. 
But, since her friends moved to London she had spent every Christmas, New Years and everything in between with them. They would make their traditional festive food, play their music, and partake in the traditions they did when they were children. So, for Ona, Christmas was still a holiday she loved, even if she couldnt spend it with her blood family, she spent it with the family she chose.
Ona and Lucy were watching Jill, Demi and Jordan decorate the Christmas tree. Well, it was more Jill telling the others that they were doing it wrong, moving a bauble every time they placed it on a branch. 
“No! What are you doing? It’s already too crowded down there. Giss it here, you obviously can't reach higher than half way up. Yous put all the decorations at the bottom. No. Jordan don’t hit. You know I’ll have you on the floor.” Jill laughed.
Ona and Lucy chuckled at the show in front of them. “Would Jill really be able to beat Jordan?” Ona asked.
Lucy scoffed. “Not a chance, Jill knows it too.” 
Ona watched on. “Hmm. Tea?” 
“I’ll do it, you made tea last.” Lucy got up and made her way to the kitchen.
Since Lucy apologised just over a week ago she had been trying her best to make it up to Ona. They started going for lunch again, they even went back to the chip shop, Lucy brought Ona on her first week. The texts came back, but they weren't as often, though that was kind of expected.
Lucy even got Ona to agree on taking lifts with her again, but it wasn’t hard, it was December and cold. And yeah, it was still the Spaniards favourite part of the day. But Lucy didn’t need to know that.
It quickly went back to how it was between them, but the flirting had stopped. Well, kind of. Sometimes it had a way of creeping itself in, but neither girl minded, they would laugh it off and change the subject.
It wasn't too different, just a lot less tension. Well, it was a different kind of tension, but neither girl could really understand what it was, it was just…new.
Did Ona get butterflies every morning she got in Lucy's car when the brunette gave her that smile that she loved? Yes. Did Lucy find herself completely mesmerised by Ona when she stuck her tongue out in contraction when she was making notes on her laptop? Yes.
Did they still have feelings for each other? Yes. Did they want more than to be friends? Yes. Did they have the guts to be honest with each other and tell the other how they feel? No. It was complicated.
—-----
“As most of you know, yesterday Harvey Smith or ‘Bugz’ was sentenced to 20 years in prison, with no chance of parole. We also managed to track down most of the members that were involved in working for the Smith brothers, they were sentenced to 10 years. So that's the good news” 
Lucy looked at the white board with all the criminals' faces plastered on it. She continued. 
“Frank Smith's body hasn't been retrieved from the river, we understand the river does lead out to the Thames so it's more than likely it may possibly never be retrieved. The case will be officially closed once the last bits of paper work are complete. Jordan, I'm looking at you.” 
“Will be done by Wednesday, boss.” She nodded.
Lucy smiled. “Okay great, well done guys. This case was an intense one, but you've all done amazing. So, thank you and well done. We’ll start work on the ‘Green’ case next week. I know Hempo’s already got many leads on that. Anyways it's Friday, it's half 4. Rose and Crown it is.”
The group clapped and cheered on closing a case, and of course the mention of the pub. But mostly for putting criminals behind bars. An hour and a half  later most of the team was in the pub. Ona was listening to Demi and Mary argue about what the best Christmas film was when she got a text on the group message. 
Alexia - hey guys, I just wanted to let you know i'm going home this christmas, my mum is getting angry with me for not going, will be gone till after new years. I’m sorry 🙁 Ona my mums asked for you to come.
Mapi - I was going to tell you guys tonight but ingrid has asked me to go with her to Norway for christmas and new years to meet her family, I said yes and we bought tickets already 
Ona felt her heart sink. She felt stupid for it but her eyes started to well up. The thought of spending this Christmas alone really wasn't something she wanted. Even though Alexia had asked her to come she wouldn't accept the offer. Her parents lived a road away from Alexia's parents, she would never chance bumping into them. It would hurt too much knowing they would ignore her if they saw her.
She quickly excused herself and ran to the bathroom, she could feel the tears just about to overflow. She opened the door and crashed into a hard body. 
“I-I’m sorry. I wasn't looking. Oh. Lucy.”
Lucy smiled but it instantly dropped when she saw Ona’s face, her beautiful brown eyes welling up with tears.
“Woah, what's wrong?” She gently put her hand on Ona’s shoulder.
You know when you're already about to cry and you're holding it in as much as you physically can, but someone asks ‘what's wrong?’ and the flood gates open up? Yeah, that's exactly what happened to Ona. She felt the first tear slip, then another, until her cheeks were wet. 
“Oh Ona, what happened? Talk to me.” 
Lucy felt her heart break seeing the younger girl like this. She didn't think about her next move; she just did it. She brought Ona close to her chest. Pulling her into a tight hug. She felt so small in her arms, so vulnerable.
She was the perfect height to fit under Lucy's chin, that's when she felt her body shake from the small sobs. She hugged her even tighter, rubbing her hands up and down Ona’s back in the most gentle motion. 
Maybe it was because of the drink in her system, or the horrible memories she had of her first year here, that she never thought she'd have to experience again, or the fact that she was in Lucy's arms.
When Ona let go, she cried and sobbed. She just needed a little comfort. She needed this so badly. And Lucy was more than happy to let her cry into her chest for as long as she needed.
After about 5 minutes of crying Ona took a deep breath and pulled back, she saw the wet patch she left on Lucy's shirt. 
“Oh, sorry Lucy.” She pointed to the dark patches. 
Lucy looked down at her top and smiled. “It's not the first time a girl got me wet.” 
Ona laughed through wet eyes, only Lucy would say something like that while Ona had just been sobbing. She just wanted to make her laugh and she did. Ona had to shake the inappropriate thoughts from her head.
“What's wrong, Ona?” Lucy grabbed the shorter girl's shoulders, her serious face was now on. 
“It's so stupid, I don't even know why I’m crying like this.” She sniffled. “My friends aren't going to be here for christmas and new years. So, I'll be alone. And….yeah, its stupid.” She shook her head at herself as she wiped her tears. 
“That's not stupid. It makes complete sense why you’d be upset.”
Lucy didn’t know if it was the drink, or the way her heart broke for the petite girl in front of her, or the fact that she wanted to spend any moment she could with Ona, that her next words came out. “Spend it with me.” 
Ona looked up at the older brunette. “What?”
“Yeah, I’m staying with my parents for Christmas. Come with me.” She smiled brightly.
“I couldn't do that.” Ona lied, she could definitely do that.
“Yeah you could. It will be fun. I also have a party I’ve been invited to for new years, you could come with me. Or if you’re not into that we can just spend it together.” 
She wanted that so badly. 
Ona felt her heart pounding. Was this really happening? Her emotions were all over the place. One minute she was a mess of tears, now she could run through the pub and do summersaults. Don’t get her wrong she was sad about her friends not being here for Christmas, but spending any time with Lucy was still something she wanted everyday. 
“I can see a smile creeping on your face. You'll come, yeah?” 
Ona wanted to argue more, she wanted to say no. But she couldn’t bring herself to, she wanted nothing more than to be with Lucy. So what was the point of lying?
Ona nodded, a shy smile plastered her lips. She really hoped Lucy wanted her to come and it wasn't just out of pity. But the smile Lucy gave Ona made those feelings melt away. 
“Good, it's settled, you're coming to mine for Christmas. I’ll be driving, it's a 4 hour drive, you better be a good DJ.” 
Ona threw her head back laughing, that laugh always did something to Lucy. 
“You know I have the better music taste.” Ona teased. 
“Yeah, yeah. Just no Christmas music.” Lucy playfully rolled her eyes.
A silence fell over them, both not knowing what to say, but wanting to say so much. 
“Thank you, Lucy.” Ona wiped her nose.
“You don't need to thank me. It will be fun. I’m going to the bar, what do you want to drink?” 
“Ah, an aperol spritz?” 
Lucy shook her head, smiling. “I don’t know how you drink that. It tastes like petrol.”
The Spaniard laughed. “You just don’t have taste.” 
“Yeah, yeah.” Lucy squeezed Ona’s arm as she started to leave for the bar. “You okay, yeah?” 
“Yeah, thank you.” Ona smiled. 
The older brunette made her way to the bar, she couldn't hold back the smile on her face. Did that really just happen? Was she really going to be spending Christmas with Ona? She felt giddy, like a kid on Christmas day. She waited to be served, when she felt someone beside her.
“Hey Lucy.”
“Hi Jen.” Lucy gave her a tight smile.
“Aye, listen I’m sorry about Ona, I didn't know you two were a thing at the time. I wouldn't have said what I said,”
“We’re not a thing.” Lucy finally looked at Jen. 
“Oh? Could have fooled me.”
“What?” 
Jen chuckled. “Come on. I’ve seen you two around. I’ve seen the way she looks at you. And you her.”  
“We’re just friends. Partners. We have to be close.” 
“Aye, yeah, friends.” The Scottish women winked at Lucy. 
“We are just friends. I thought you two were a thing.” 
Jen scoffed. “Are you blind? She likes you. I should've realised when I spoke to her at your birthday. The girl wouldn't stop talking about you.” Jen rolled her eyes playfully. 
“I don’t thi-,” 
“Luce. Come on. She was looking around for you all night at the bar. Asking everyone if they had seen you.” She scoffed again, shaking her head. Whispering the next words. “I tried to dance with her. She thought I was you.” 
“What?” 
Jen rolled her eyes. “This is hurting my ego enough.” She sighed. “I tried to dance with her, and I thought she was into it, until she basically pushed me away after she realised it was me dancing with her. I swear she said your name, thinking I was you.” 
Lucy felt her heart sink. Realisation finally kicking in. 
Jen continued “So yeah. The girl likes you. I thought you were kind of a thing now? Are you not?” Jen looked confused.
“No.” 
“Pshh mate.” Jen put her hand on Lucy's shoulder and shook her head in disbelief. “Anyways, I’ve said enough. Enjoy your night.” 
“Y-yeah, thanks. You too.” 
Lucy let out a deep sigh, shaking her head in disbelief. She felt a weird excited but dreaded feeling in her stomach. Had she really messed up this badly? If Ona did actually like her, she had obviously ruined anything that could have potentially happened between them. Or had she? She did just invite her to have Christmas with her family, and Ona said yes. A quick yes. But, as friends. But? No. Maybe? Maybe there was a chance. 
-----------
Ona was sat on the wall waiting for Lucy to pick her up. It was the morning of Christmas Eve. Ona would be lying if she didn't say she was nervous, only 3 weeks ago herself and Lucy wasn't even speaking, now she was spending Christmas with her and her family. Talk about your turn of events.
Lucy pulled up beeping her horn at Ona, smiling when the girl shook her head at her silliness. Ona wasn't the only one that was nervous. When Lucy asked her to spend Christmas with her and her family, she wasn't actually thinking about what that could mean. She was also maybe a little tipsy when she asked, so she hadn’t thought about the implications of her question, but it didn't make her any less excited that Ona said yes. 
Lucy got out of the car, helping Ona with her bag and what looked like a bag with gifts. 
“Hola, good morning.” Ona smiled.
“Good morning. Here, let's put that in the boot.” She lifted up a bag spotting the wrapping paper. “Ona you didn't have to get any gifts.” Lucy complained.
“What? Don’t be stupid. It's Christmas, of course I have gifts.” She argued.
“Well, thank you but you really shouldn't have.” Lucy shook her head smiling at Ona’s thoughtfulness.
Ona playfully rolled her eyes at the older girl. The pair got into the car and made their way up North. 
The first hour they spoke non stop, it was so easy. They could speak about anything and everything. The second hour they listened to music, Lucy even put on some christmas songs after Ona pouted and gave her puppy dog eyes. By the third hour they played games, like ‘eye spy', ‘21 questions', and ‘would you rather?’ By the fourth hour Lucy noticed Ona’s eyes dropping. Another five minutes and the girl was sleeping quietly next to her.
Lucy couldn't help but steal glances at the younger brunette, her face was so soft. She looked incredibly peaceful. She looked beautiful. 20 minutes before they arrived Lucy woke Ona up, she really didn't want to disturb her but she also thought Ona would want to wake up a little before they arrived.
“Ona. Ona, wake up. Come on, sleepy head.” Lucy gently nudged her.
Ona slowly opened her eyes. She looked confused at first but smiled when she saw Lucy. 
“We’re nearly there.” 
“Sorry Lucy. I didn't mean to sleep for so long.” Ona stretched.
“No, I don’t mind.”
They finally arrived. Lucy turned the engine off and turned to the shorter girl.
“Right, like I said my mum can chat for britain. Just smile and nod. My brother is a dick and is always teasing. His wife Molly is normal, you'll get on with her, maybe.” She smiled cheekily at Ona. “My dad just pots about, he doesn't really get in anyone's way.” 
“Aye, come on, I'll be fine.” 
“Yeah, you will. If anything becomes too much or you just want some of your own space, or just need a break. Please give me a signal. It can be a lot with your own family on Christmas, let alone someone else's.”
Ona gave Lucy a deadpan look. “Lucy, come on.” 
“No, you come on. Give me a signal.” 
Ona scooped Lucy’s little finger with her own. Bringing it in between them. “This okay?”
Lucy's heart skipped a beat. It wasn't an intimate touch, not at all, but it felt special. It felt familiar. Lucy smiled. “Okay, that's good.” 
Ona smiled, she didn't think about what she was doing when she grabbed Lucy's finger. She felt stupid for it but she felt a weird spark, a shiver that travelled through her. But she couldn't help but notice how natural it felt to touch Lucy, even though it was a small piece of her, she liked it a lot.
The girls grabbed their bags and made their way to Lucy's childhood home. The taller brunette knocked on the door and turned to Ona and mouthed ‘Good luck.’
The door opened to an older looking Lucy, Ona recognised Lucy's mum from the face time they had back on Lucy's birthday.
“Oh Ona! It's so lovely to finally meet you!” Lucy's mum side stepped Lucy completely,  engulfing Ona in a rib breaking hug. 
Ona smiled at the older woman, she embraced her hug easily. It had been a while since she had this type of hug, a mothers hug. She instantly felt the warmth from her, it was nice, it was something she had missed for years. 
“It's so nice to finally meet you. Thank you for having me.” Ona tried to not struggle from the squeeze of Lucy's mum.
Lucy's mum finally let go. “Don’t be silly. I’m so happy to have you here.” She held Ona by her arms stroking her lovingly. 
“No you’re alright, I didn't just drive four hours to be ignored.” Lucy said with a deadpan stare at her mum.
“Oh Lucy calm down, I speak to you all the time. She's so moody isn't she Ona? Lord knows what it's like to work with her. Come on then, give me a cuddle.” Lucy didn't have time to argue, before she was being squashed by her mum's bear-like grip.
Ona smiled at the pair's banter. 
“Come in girls. Get your bags upstairs. Ona what would you like to drink sweetheart? Tea, coffee? Prosecco? I've already opened a bottle.” 
“Oh, I’m okay for now, thank you. But I do have some cinamon rolls for you."
The older women's face lit up. "Oh Ona. Thank you! You shouldn't have, you angle!"
Ona passed the fresh baked goods over. Lucy's mum smiled as she took them. "Such a sweet girl."
Ona’s mum smiled warmly at her. “You let me know if you want anything, don't be scared to ask. Lucy, can you get the games out of the attic please. I can’t reach. John come and say hello to your daughter and Ona. Stop watching that pokie show!” Lucy's mum walked off.
Lucy rolled her eyes. “Come, we'll take these upstairs. You can see my teenage room.” 
Before the girls could move Lucy's mum came back. “Oh Lucy, just so you know you and Ona will have to share your room. We’ve turned your sister's room into a home gym. She doesn't need it living in Australia now. I do my Davina Mcall workout in there every morning. I've lost 5 pounds already!” 
“Erm, okay no problem. Do we still have the blow up bed?” 
“No, your dad popped it when we had some friends round. Had to throw it away. You've got a double bed in your room, you can surely share.”
Lucy looked like a deer in headlights. Her and Ona were going to share a bed in her teenage bedroom? Her teenage self would be fisting the air right now. All three of the women heard Lucy's dad shout something in the background.
“What John? No, I don't know where the tape measurer is. What do you need that for?” And the older woman was gone again.
“Okay, looks like we’re bunking together. Do you mind?” Lucy started to walk up the stairs.
“No, not at all.” Ona smiled. She didn’t mind one bit.
Lucy opened the door to her old bedroom. Things had obviously changed a bit since it was her room, but her mum had kept some of her old posters and football trophies up. 
Ona smiled as she looked at the posters, some looked to have signatures on them. “You liked football huh?” 
“Still do.” Lucy came up behind her. 
“You can play?” Ona picked up one of the old trophies.
“I can. I’m really good.” Lucy said with a cocky smile on her face. 
“Not as good as me though.” A deep voice made them both jump.
Ona turned to see a young man standing in the doorway, he had familiar features to Lucy but only slight. “Hi, you must be the famous Ona. I’m Kevin.” He smiled. That's when Ona saw the resemblance.  
“Hello Kevin, it's lovely to meet you.” Ona smiled.
“She showing off again? She does that a lot.” Kevin smiled playfully.
“I apologise in advance, Ona.” Lucy moved over to hug her brother but was caught in a headlock that she easily got out of after punching her brother right in the chest. 
Ona giggled at the sister and brother relationship. It wasn't too far off her own relationship with her brother, when she had still lived in Spain.
“Auntie Lucy!” A smaller voice joined the commotion.
Ona watched as the little raven haired girl grasped on to Lucy's leg. “Hey, Rudy!” Lucy grabbed the girl and brought her into a hug. “How's my favourite niece?” 
The little girl laughed. “I’m your only niece.”
Lucy kissed her cheek. “Hey Ruds, come say hi to my friend Ona.”
For some reason Ona felt nervous, of all the people she wanted to make a good impression on it was Lucy's niece. She knew Lucy adored the girl, so this was important to her. The little girl nodded suddenly, becoming a little shy. Lucy walked them over to Ona. The Spaniard then noticed Rudy looked like a younger version of Lucy. The resemblance was uncanny. 
“Hello Rudy, I’m Ona.” Ona gave Rudy a small wave. 
“Hello Ona.” The girl tucked her head into Lucy's neck, keeping her eyes on Ona.
“I like your shoes. I've got some just like yours. But I like the colours on yours more.” Ona tapped the girl's shoes. 
“Auntie Lucy got them for me.” She said proudly, smiling at the Spaniard.
“Oh did she? She has good taste.” Ona smiled.
“Yeah. I want juice.” The younger girl escaped from Lucy's arms and ran out of the room. Leaving the two women alone.
“She’s so cute.” 
“Yeah. When she’s not being a brat.” Lucy laughed.
An awkward silence fell over the pair. Ona eyed up the double bed, then back to the posters. “Do you play now?” 
Lucy looked at the posters. “Now and again. I have a team I play on a Sunday with. I played a lot more when I was younger. I nearly went to America to train, but I injured my knee when I was 17. Couldn’t play the same for years after that.” Lucy looked thoughtful.
“Oh. That's awful, I'm sorry Lucy.” 
“Ahh doesn't matter. I doubt I would’ve made it.” Lucy shrugged. 
“Lucy! Ona! Come down, I’ve got the baby album out!” Lucy's mum shouted from downstairs.
The older brunette's eyes closed in frustration. 
“Coming!” Ona smiled wickedly at Lucy. She grabbed Lucy's hand pulling her out the room. “I can’t wait for this.” 
Even though Lucy was just a shade lighter than a tomato she didn't hate the feeling of Ona’s hand in hers. 
—----
“Oh and that’s Lucy on her 5th birthday. It was a football party, of course.”  Lucy’s mum pointed and smiled at the younger Lucy.
“And here’s Lucy having a bath. I’ll tell you what Ona that girl could never keep her clothes on. I’d have to keep an eye on her constantly. She always wanted to be in the nude.” Lucy's mum laughed.
“Mum!” Lucy was a beetroot colour now.
“What? Don’t be embarrassed, you were only a baby.” 
Ona couldn't hold back the laugh as Lucy's mum nudged her arm, laughing with her.
“Okay! I need a drink. Ona? Drink?” Lucy stood up.
“Good idea Lucy, bring the bottle in.” Lucy’s mum said without turning around.
Lucy shook her head, but couldn’t help but smile when she saw Ona getting on with her mum. 
The day went quick. Lucy hardly got to speak to Ona as she was pulled from pillar to post from each family member, even her dad joined in on the fun. The girl had slotted into the family so easily, she got on with everyone, it made Lucy feel at ease. Once Rudy was put to bed Lucy and Ona helped with putting the Christmas presents under the tree. 
That's when Lucy felt the warm skin of Ona’s little finger wrapping around her own. She looked up to see big brown eyes on hers, and a slightly tired smile on her face. Lucy didn't have to say anything, she could read Ona’s face. 
“Mum, we’re heading up.” 
“Okay. We’ll be up in a bit. Lucy, make sure to be a good host and give Ona anything she needs.”
Keven couldn't hold in his laugh on the other side of the room, his wife hitting him quickly. Lucy shot daggers at her immature brother. The girls said their good nights and made their way upstairs. Lucy closed the door behind her as they entered her room.
“You okay?” 
“Sí, sorry I just couldn’t keep my eyes open.” 
“No, that's okay. I’m tired too. I'll grab us towels so we can shower.
—----------
“Okay, so that tap can be a bit temperamental, I’ll put it on for you so you don’t struggle.” 
“Thank you, Luce.” 
They waited in silence for the water to warm up. It was a small bathroom, Lucy could feel Ona right next to her, every so often she could feel her arm accidentally touch her own. She hoped the younger brunette didn’t notice the hairs on her arm stand up or the goosebumps that took over her skin from a simple touch. 
She could feel the Spaniards eyes on her, but she kept her eyes on the running water or anywhere that wasn’t at Ona. She couldn't believe how nervous she felt. Once she was happy with the temperature she left the girl to shower. 
“Okay, that should be good. If you need anything let me know, I’ll be right in. I mean, I w-wont come in obviously. Like, I can…I’ll help with what I can. Without coming in, cos you'll be naked.” 
Ona couldn't hold back the smirk on her face. This may have been the first time she had seen Lucy shy, or tongue tied. Was it cute? Yes! Did she almost reach up to kiss her to stop her stuttering? Almost.
“Don’t worry. I’ll call if I need you.” Ona smiled playfully.
The older brunette chuckled awkwardly and scratched the back of her neck. God, what's wrong with you?
“Right. Good. Let me get out of your way.”
Lucy squeezed by Ona, apologising as her body pressed against hers as she did. She was so close she could smell Ona’s shampoo. The coconut one, the one she liked. 
“Thank you Luce.” 
Lucy let out a deep sigh. She didn't regret asking Ona to come here for Christmas but she didn't realise how hard it was going to be. She wanted the girl. Badly. And having her here was only increasing her feelings. Seeing how easily she slotted in with her family increased it. Singing stupid Christmas songs in the 4 hour car journey increased it. Just having Ona by her side increased it. 
Lucy scrolled on her phone sitting on her bed as she waited for Ona to finish in the shower. When the bathroom door opened she nearly forgot how to breathe. She may have pictured Ona like this a few times. No, a lot of times. But this was the real thing, now she was actually in front of her. She came out in her towel, water droplets dripped down her milky skin. The baby hair on the back of her neck curled from the heat of the shower. Her freckled cheeks flushed a hot pink from the heat. Fuck. This was going to be difficult.
“Done. Thank you.” Ona smiled sitting down on the other side of the bed. 
Lucy swallowed on her dry throat. “Great, erm….Yeah, okay.” 
She kept her eyes down as she made her way to the bathroom. She undressed and got in the shower. She closed her eyes and let out another deep sigh as the hot water ran down her skin. She tried to rid herself of her dirty thoughts, but she couldn't stop the images of a naked Ona in her room. She tried to push them away but it only got worse when the memory of Ona underneath her rushed into her thoughts.
She could feel the start of a small throbbing sensation between her legs. Her hand started to creep down her stomach as she remembered the way Ona panted and thrusted beneath her. The way Ona’s brown eyes looked up at her as she bit her lip, the moans the girl let out as she squirmed underneath her. Before Lucy realised what she was doing her hand was between her legs touching her clit. 
It wasn't the first time she had thought about Ona like this, she was a regular occurrence in Lucy's late night fantasies. But she couldn't do this now, not with Ona right next door, it felt wrong, seedy almost. She moved her hand away, but not without noticing the shiny essence on her finger tips. 
This was going to be a long two nights. 
Lucy let out another sigh. In her rush to the bathroom she had left her pyjamas on the bed. She was going to have to change in front of Ona. Fuck sake. She opened the door to see Ona already tucked up in bed. Her long hair was down, like that night at the bar. Her sleepy eyes caught Lucy, sending her a cute smile. But that cute smile dropped quickly when her dark eyes roamed the older brunette's wet body.
Just like Lucy, Ona had pictured very similar situations with the girl in front of her half naked. But in her dirty thoughts she was fully naked. And just like Lucy, Ona had the older brunette constantly on her mind whenever she had her hand between her legs. Picturing the older girl in many different situations. She was doing it right now, even with Lucy in front of her, she couldn't help it. It wasn't until she heard Lucy's voice that she was brought out of her dirty day dream.
“Ona? Do you mind if I change?” Lucy asked. 
“Huh? Sorry, what?” Ona didn’t realise she was staring.
Lucy couldn't stop the smile. A knowing smile. “I’m just going to change. Is that okay?”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I won't look. I promise.” She let out a small nervous chuckle. “I’m on my phone.” Ona quickly glanced back at her phone, wanting to give her host some privacy. She did a good job at first, scrolling aimsley on her insta feed. She was concentrating hard to not let her eyes go any further, though she may have glanced up once or twice at the girl. 
Lucy wasn’t facing her, Ona could only see her back, her very muscular back. She looked at her phone, trying her best to not creep on her friend. But her eyes glanced up once more. Lucy had bottoms on already. She was just in time to see the older brunette putting her shirt over her head, catching her firm stomach as she turned back to Ona. She darted her eyes down quickly but of course Lucy caught her. 
Lucy slotted into the space next to Ona. The room suddenly felt like it had no air. 
“So, how has today been?” Lucy wanted to try and pop the hot bubble that was making her sweat. 
Ona looked up from her phone, she didn't even release, she was just looking at the weather app now, too focused on trying to regulate her breathing. 
“Amazing! Your family are so sweet. I’ve already had so much fun. I-I can't thank you enough, Lucy. It means a lot to me that you have welcomed me to celebrate with your family.”
“You’re more than welcome. They love you, you know? They weren't even this nice to any of my exes.” Lucy chuckled, until she realised how weird that sounded. Why was she putting Ona in the same sentence as her exes? Maybe because the next time she saw her family with Ona she wanted her to be more than her friend.
Ona smiled shyly, she didn't miss what Lucy said, but she didn't take it to heart. Clearly  Lucy didn't mean anything by it, she was just comparing. Yeah, it was a bit weird to be compared to her past lovers but Ona would just ignore the nervous feeling in her stomach at the thought of her family liking her more then her actual girlfriends. 
Lucy quickly changed the subject, asking Ona what Christmas was like back in Spain. The younger girl was more than happy to give Lucy a small history lesson on the traditions back home. It wasn't until Ona started to yawn that Lucy decided to call it a night. 
“Right you, let's get you to sleep. Got a big day tomorrow.” Lucy teased.
Ona rolled her eyes at the older girl, smiling as she tucked herself into the covers. Lucy rolled over and turned off the side light, immersing the pair into darkness. She made herself comfortable, as comfortable as she could. She could still feel the slight throbbing between her legs. Having Ona inches next to her did not help, especially when she felt the girl's hand glide up stomach as she moved around next to her. 
Her breath hitched in her throat as her body tensed up.
“Sorry.” Ona whispered.
“It's okay. If you wanted to cop a feel you could have just asked.” Lucy giggled.
“Idiota.” Ona chuckled back.
Half an hour later Ona was fast asleep, but the same couldn't be said for Lucy, she found herself staring at the ceiling, listening to Ona’s steady breathing. She tried to close her eyes and relax but her mind was on overdrive. 
She was thinking of all the ways she could tell Ona. Tell her the truth about why she was such a dick before. Tell her how much it killed her to not talk to her, why she ignored her texts, declined the lunches with her. Explain why she became so cold. Come clean about how Ona was the first and last thing that she thought about everyday since laying eyes on her. 
After an hour of her brain screaming at her, Lucy started to drift to sleep. But as soon as her mind started to calm it was woken back up. The shorter girl beside her shuffled in her sleep, capturing one of Lucy's thighs between her own. And even with the fabric as a barrier, Lucy instantly felt the unmistakable wetness that started to dampen through onto her own skin. 
And if that wasn't enough to send her brain into a complete overdrive, the girl ever so slightly began to grind her hips into Lucy's thigh. The smallest of whimpers escaped the Spaniard's lips as she unknowingly used Lucy's body for her own pleasure. The girl was clearly having a sex dream. Next to Lucy. In Lucy’s bed. And she could fucking feel it. 
“Fuck.” Lucy breathed out. 
Was this really happening? Should she wake the girl? No! She’d be mortified. Maybe if she tried to move her leg? But as soon as she did, Ona only got closer, pushing herself right up into Lucy. Her face was so close to her, she could still smell the mint from her toothpaste. Ona whimpered again, clearly finding a sweet spot in her new position, Lucy could feel the girl becoming wetter. Her own clit was throbbing.
She needed to put a stop to this, even though she really didn't mind Ona using her as her own sex toy. Just as she was about to fully move from Ona, she heard her own name being moaned. 
“Lucy.” Ona whispered. 
Lucy’s whole body stiffened. Was she hearing that right? Ona was saying her name? She was dreaming about Lucy. Her name was being moaned into her ear by the girl she was already wet over. Onas hips picked up a faster paste, her small moans making Lucy's skin heat up. She felt dizzy, she bit her lip trying to hold in her own groan. Ona’s wet fabric was sliding up her thigh, she could feel the warmth radiating from between her legs. 
Just as she was about to stop the shorter girl, she felt her body stiffen. She didn't make a sound. She held her breath. Ona let out a tiny sigh and her body relaxed again. Snuggling her face into Lucy’s shoulder. 
The older brunette couldn’t move. She swallowed the spit in her mouth like she was out of breath, how did that just happen? She couldn’t believe Ona had just used her to get off. Well, in her sleep. How did that just happen? Lucy was sweating, she could feel her clit crying to be touched. But she couldn't, and she wouldn't. She would have to wait until she got back home. 
Even though she didn’t want to move from Ona’s grip, she needed to get to the toilet. She removed herself from the girl and from the sheets, Ona was in an ignorance of bliss, sleeping soundly. Lucy went to the toilet, wiping away any of own essence. She couldn’t stop the smile when she saw the damp spot on her trousers from the girl in the other room. She splashed some cold water onto her face to try and calm herself down.
Lucy made her way back into bed, trying her best not to wake the girl next to her. She could still feel the heat between her own legs, ignoring as best as she could. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. 
—------------
Ona was confused when she awoke, this wasn't her bed. Then the feeling of hot air on her neck tickled her, causing her to shiver. That's when she remembered she was at Lucys. She didn't realise a strong arm was wrapped around her body until it pulled her effortlessly closer, she could feel the warm body pressed up against her back, the strong arm locking her in. Lucy was holding her like she was her own teddy bear, their bodies pressed up against each other like lovers.
Ona was fully awake now, she could hear Lucy's shallow breathing, she was still asleep. Lucy's core was pressed right up against Onas’s arse, she could feel the heat coming from between the girls legs. It reminded her of her own dream last night, maybe she was still dreaming?
She couldn't stop the silent gasp as she felt Lucy pull her impossibly closer. She bit her lip, loving the feeling of the strong girl against her body. 
Did she do the responsible thing and move away from her friend? No. She gently counted her hips backwards, pushing her arse into Lucy, loving the way the older brunette's breath hitched in her sleep. Lucy nuzzled closer to her neck, her lips gently brushed the Spaniard's neck. Ona closed her eyes as she felt Lucy’s soft lips against her skin, she could feel her own body heating up, her nipples straining against her top.
That's when Lucy's phone alarm went off. Ona closed her eyes, pretending to still be asleep. She knew Lucys was probably going to freak out when she saw the position they were in. And like clock work she felt Lucy's body stiffen, she was clearly awake. Did it break Ona’s heart just slightly? Of course. But she couldn't feel like that for long, not when she felt Lucy's soft lips press a light kiss to her neck. 
She must still be dreaming. Did that just happen? Did Lucy just kiss her? Why? Why did she kiss her? What did that mean? She felt Lucy move away, her body suddenly felt cold. She then felt Lucy pat her back. 
“Ona. Wake up. It's Christmas!” 
Hearing Lucy's morning voice did something to Ona’s insides. Her accent sounded even thicker. If she didn't know the girl so well she’d probably find it hard to understand her morning mumbles.
Ona pretended to wake, she smiled and stretched her body. “Bon dia.” She turned around to face a very sleepy, cute looking Lucy. “Merry Christmas.” Ona yawned.
Lucy smiled and stretched. “How did you sleep?” She knew how the girl slept, but she wasn't about to reveal that.
“Good, thank you. You?” 
“Not too bad. You didn't take up too much room, so I can’t complain.” She smirked.
“I don’t get many complaints when sharing a bed with another woman.” Ona giggled. 
Lucy laughed out loud. “Yeah, I’m sure you don’t.”
This was a whole other layer being added to their relationship. It felt almost like how they were before, tip toeing on a fine line of friendship and flirting, the undertones of wanting each other was becoming more apparent. 
“It smells like breakfast is on.” Lucy stretched.
“Hmm, I can't wait.”
“Remember don’t force yourself to eat things, if you don't want anything just say so. My mums a feeder.” Lucy warned.
“Good thing I'm an eater.” Ona winked. 
Lucy chuckled. “Okay, you ready?” Lucy sat up.
“Sí, but can I give you your present now?”
Lucy’s face broke into a huge smile. “You got me a present?”
“Of course.” 
“I got you one too. I wasn't sure when to give it to you.” 
Now it was Ona’s turn to smile. She watched as Lucy got out the bed and made her way to her bag, Ona copied her movements, moving over to her own bag. Ona would be lying if she didn't say she was extremely excited that Lucy got her a present. She of course had a small slither of hope that she would, but she didn't actually think she would. She pulled out the gold box from her bag, hoping she got Lucy something she actually liked. 
Ona pulled out the neatly wrapped green and red papered package, with a red envelope on top. She smiled as she saw Lucy looking a little nervous on the other side of the room, she was holding a small gold wrapped box. 
“Merry Christmas, Lucy.” She stepped forward..
“Merry Christmas, Ona.” Lucy nervously smiled.
They exchanged their gifts. Ona opened the small golden box to find a blue jewellery box encased, she smiled as Lucy watched her. She gently opened the box to find a gold necklace with a gold smiley face attached to the chain. Ona’s eyes lit as eyed the gold chain, she couldn't stop her own smile on her face. She loved it. She looked up to see Lucy's nervous face.
“Lucy, I love it! Thank you so much!”
“Yeah? You sure? If you dont its okay.”
“What? No, I love it! Can you put it on me?” 
Lucy gave Ona a toothy smile. “Turn around.” 
Ona pushed her hair to the side to give Lucy space. She felt as Lucy's fingers skimmed her skin, making her shiver. Lucy didn't miss the way the younger girl's skin prickled with goosebumps from her touch. It brought back scenes from last night, making her own heart race, she tried to calm herself before her cheeks turned red.
Ona turned around, the gold chain shining on her neck.
“It suits you.” Lucy ran her eyes over the chain.
“Thank you. It's perfect.”
Ona noticed Lucy's face looked a little flush. “Open yours.”
Lucy opened the envelope first, it was a christmas card with a piece of paper inside. She skimmed her eyes over the writing, her eyes widened in surprise. She read it out loud. 
“The Big London Bake. You and your guest will have a day of eating, baking and of course a day of fun.” She licked her lips as she smiled back at Ona. “I have wanted to do this for the longest time! I can’t believe it, how did you know? How did you get tickets? They're always booked up.” 
“I know you like baking, and I have a friend who knows a friend.” Ona winked playfully.
“I can’t tell you how excited I am! Thank you so much! When do you wanna go?” 
“You don't have to bring me, I-,” 
Lucy cut her off. “There is no way I’m taking anyone else. Of course you’re coming.”
Ona looked at her feet as she smiled. “Open your other present.”
Lucy tore open the paper, smiling as soon as she saw it. It was a picture frame with a picture of Ona and Lucy laughing on stage at the karaoke bar. 
“I still don’t know why we’re doing this job and not forming a band.” Lucy chuckled. “I love it. Thank you, Ona.” 
The younger brunette giggled as she looked at the picture. Their relationship was definitely blurring now. Both girls could feel it. Feelings were growing, and both girls didn't stop it, they were letting it grow, pushing it to grow. 
—----------
“Merry Christmas girls!” Lucy's mum was cooking pancakes at the oven.
“Merry christmas!” The pair said in sync.
“Can I help with anything?” Ona walked over to Lucys mum.
“No my darling, you’re our guest. But thank you. You have a seat. Are you hungry? I’ve got lots to choose from. Lucy get Ona a tea, or is it coffee you like dear? Lucy put the kettle on.”
Lucy rolled her eyes at her mum. Ona giggled at their relationship, it was a typical mum and daughter relationship. She smiled as she watched Lucy's mum grab her cheek and lovingly smile at her daughter as she put the kettle on. 
“Ona my darling do you like pancakes?”
“I do.” 
“With chocolate chips?”
“Even better.” 
“Perfect. Got a fresh batch for you now. Do you like orange juice?” Lucy's mum brought the fresh batch of warm chocolate chip pancakes over to Ona. 
“Thank you so much. This looks amazing!” 
Lucy's mum smiled as she squeezed Ona’s shoulder in that mum type way. It was something she didn't realise she had missed so much. Lucy brought over a coffee for Ona, not needing to ask what she wanted, she knew that was her morning drink. 
“Where's Kevin? And dad?” Lucy asked as she sat down. Her mum placed a stack of pancakes in front of Lucy. 
“They all went for a walk. Rudy was up early, bouncing off the walls.” Her mum chuckled. 
The three chatted as they had their morning breakfast. Once they were done the girls had a shower and changed into their clothes. 
“Girls you ready? We have a very impatient 6 year old down here.”
“Okay, show time you ready?” Lucy smiled.
“Sí.” Ona smiled.
They made their way downstairs to open presents. That’s when Ona noticed the large Santa sacks under the tree that definitely weren't there last night. They had large gold initials stitched onto the red fabric. One had an L, a K, an M for Kevin's wife Molly, and then she spotted the sack with an O. She stopped in her tracks, Lucy bumping into her from behind. She felt her hand on her shoulder. 
“You okay?” Lucy looked concerned.
“Ah yeah, sorry.” 
“Come.” Lucy took Ona’s hand in hers and sat them down.
“Ona!” Rudy ran over to the Spanird a present in her hand. 
“Ona this is from me. Open it.” the mini version of Lucy demanded.
“Oh my. Thank you. Is it not from santa?” Ona chuckled.
“Not this one.” Rudy smiled cheekily.
“Oh, okay.” Ona smiled at Lucy as she opened the present.
It was a mug with ‘Top copper’ on it. 
Ona laughed. “I love it! Thank you so much, Rudy.” She opened her arms for the girl. Rudy jumped on her lap and tucked herself into the Spaniard's neck. Lucy grabbed her phone and quickly took a picture of the pair.  Rudey jumped off the girl and ran back over to her mum and dad, ready to open her presents. 
“Okay, present time.” Lucy’s mum passed over Ona and Lucy the heavy sacks.
“Th-thank you. You didn't have t-,”
Lucy's mum was quick to stop her. “No, I don't want to hear any of that.” She grabbed her cheek like she did Lucys and gave her a kiss on her head.
Ona couldn't believe it, she wasn't expecting any kind of gift from anyone, let alone a whole sack. She looked over at Lucy who was smiling at her, gesturing for her to open her sack. She untied the knot to find loads of wrapped up presents. She felt overwhelmed. She hadn't had anything like this before, not since she was a child. She reached in and began to open her presents alongside Lucy.
The list of items was long. She had opened a perfume set, face masks, nail varnish set, a baking cookbook, a candle, pjs set, a hot water bottle with an O stitched in, a hot chocolate set, a bath bomb set, bath soak, hand cream, chocolates, woolly socks, a £30.00 gift card, lip gloss and a beautiful brown leather notebook. Ona could feel the tears in her eyes. She quickly stood up and excused herself. 
Lucy and her mum looked at each other with worry. The older brunette quickly followed Ona out of the room to find her in the kitchen at the sink, a small tear was rolling down her face. 
“Hey, you okay? What's wrong?” Lucy stroked Ona’s arm.
“I’m so sorry. Nothing is wrong, it's just. Your family have been so nice to me. It's overwhelming. They have spoilt me.” She chuckled threw a tear. 
Lucy smiled, she rubbed the girl's arm and pulled her in for a hug, she understood. She knew Ona hadn't been with her own family in so long let alone for Christmas, she knew this holiday was difficult in many ways for the younger girl. Ona loved it, but it also brought weird feelings for her. She held the girl tight, rubbing her back soothingly. 
“Hey, It's okay, Ona. It can be a lot. It's a hard day for you. Don't apologise. I know my mum definitely goes over the top aswell.” She wiped away a tear from Ona’s cheek.
“Thank you, Luce. It's very generous, I just wasn't expecting it.” She looked up, Ona could feel her heart beating, Lucy's face was suddenly so close to hers, looking in her eyes so deeply. Like she was trying to read her mind, her green eyes searched her face, landing on her mouth. Ona stopped breathing. 
“Is Ona okay?” Lucy's mum walked into the kitchen.
Lucy took a step back from Ona, hearing her mum’s voice.
“Sí, I am. Sorry, I am just so happy. You’ve been so kind to me.” Ona smiled.
“Oh my darling!” Lucy's mum scooped Ona up in a hug, squeezing the girl tightly to her chest. “I’m glad their happy tears. I’m sorry if it was too much.” She stroked Ona’s cheek. 
“No, no! Not at all. You’ve been so welcoming. It’s so nice. Thank you so much for my gifts.” 
Lucy's mum smiled lovingly at her. “You’re welcome Ona. We’ve loved having you here. You’re welcome here anytime.”
Ona smiled, she had missed this. A mothers love. 
“Do you want tea, Ona?” Lucy asked. 
Ona nodded. “Thank you, Luce.” 
“Tea then we drink.” Lucy's mum winked.
Ona and Lucy chuckled, agreeing on the plan. 
The rest of Christmas day went perfectly. Everyone loved the presents Ona had got them. Christmas dinner was served and everything was cooked to perfection. Ona had sat next to Lucy, every so often their arms would brush but neither girl said anything. They all sat down to watch ‘The Grinch’. Ona would catch those familiar green eyes on her every half an hour, smiling at her everytime she caught her. She wondered if Lucy even watched the film.
Then the board games came out. Ona got to see first hand just how competitive Lucy was, it made her cry with laughter watching the older brunette and her brother argue over the games. Ona, Lucy and Rudy played football in the garden, Lucy's brother also joined in, and ended up in a headlock.
As it came closer to the evening a few neighbours came by for drinks, the music was blaring and everyone was having a good time. Ona found herself being spun around by one of Lucy's neighbours, as the group danced away. Ona had found herself staring at Lucy while she danced with Rudy in her arms. It made her heart melt as the pair giggled at something Rudy said. 
“Ona, do you want a drink?” Suddenly Lucy was in front of the Spaniard.
Ona was blushed from the dancing. A huge smile plastered on her face, making Lucy's heart melt. “Please. Thank you.”
Lucy nodded, she made her way to the kitchen in search of more alcohol. She looked in the mini fridge stocked with bottles of drink. She grabbed a bottle and popped the cork, pouring herself and Ona some prosecco.
“So, how long have you loved her?” 
Lucy jumped at the deep voice, she turned around to see her brother Keven standing at the door frame, a playful smile on his face.
“What?” Lucy turned back around to continue pouring.
“Come on, Lucy. Don't play dumb. You can see it a mile away. You can practically see the heart shape in your eyes. Even the way Ona looks at you.”
“Leave it out Kevin.”
He stepped next to his sister, leaning on the kitchen side, a serious face now sat on his features. 
“I’m not trying to wind you up Luce, you seem so much happier, and I can't help but think it's Ona that’s done it.” He smiled at his younger sister.
Lucy scoffed. “Is it that obvious?” 
Kevin raised his eyebrows. “Does a bear shit in the woods?” 
The siblings laughed, it was rare for them to have a conversation that didn't end up teasing the other over a game or even what the other was dressed in, it was different, it was nice.
“I hope you're planning on asking her out. Even Molly was asking if she was single. I think she wants your girl.” He winked, making Lucy laugh.
“Yeah, I think I will. I just need the right ti-,” 
“Hey Luce, do you need me?” Ona entered the kitchen with a big smile on her face. 
“Just in time! She does Ona, she needs you.” Kevin smiled as he nudged his sister, Lucy gave her brother daggers but in truth, he wasn’t lying. He chuckled to himself, leaving the two girls alone. 
Ona smiled as she approached Lucy, it was her cute tipsy smile. Lucy had seen it a few times now, it never got any less cute. Lucy turned round, her back to the sink, facing the shorter girl. 
“Are you having a good time?” 
Ona walked up to the taller brunette and took the glass from Lucy's hand, making sure her fingers lingered on hers.
“I am. Your neighbours are fun. They can dance!” Ona giggled.
“Yeah, they do like a good time. Garry's having fun with you.” Lucy chuckled as she drank her drink.
“Hmm, sounds like someone jealous.” Ona chuckled.
“What if I am?”
“You? No, you're not jealous.” Ona teased.
“Well, I haven't had a chance to dance with you yet.”
Ona stepped a little closer to Lucy. Her brown eyes looked up at the taller girl. “You can dance with me.”
“Yeah?” 
“All you have to do is ask. I’d be all yours.” Ona whispered. 
Lucy could feel her body gravitating towards Ona, she couldn't take her eyes off of her lips. Her heart was in her throat. Was this about to finally happen? 
Ona licked her own lips. Her hands were sweating. She had wanted this for so long.
“All mine?” Lucy's words were just above a whisper.
“Sí.” Ona closed her eyes as she was finally about to kiss the girl she loved.
The girls lips were inches apart, months of wanting this exact moment, finally seconds away. Until a roar of laughter came tumbling into the kitchen. Lucy's dad and two other neighbours were completely unaware they had just ruined the moment.
Ona jumped from the commotion, automatically stepping back from their bubble. Lucy closed her eyes in frustration, she could have killed her dad. Ona eyed the brunette a shy smile on her face as she drank her drink. 
“Lucy, Ona! We’re doing shots. Come on, get over here.” Lucy’s dad laughed.
The girls eyed each other, both hungry with lust. It was clear what they both wanted now. Both girls had leaned in, both wanted the kiss, there was no mistaking the heat between them. 
The night got later, everyone continued to dance and drink, including Lucy and Ona, both girls stole glances throughout the night. Lucy wanted nothing more than to take Ona upstairs and have some time with the girl but the house was full. People would look for them within a couple of minutes, she'd have to wait. She just didn't know how long.
—-----------
“Night Garry, night Pauline. I’ll see you next week.” Lucy's mum slurred as she closed the front door, saying her goodbyes to the last guess.
“Okay mum, we're off to bed.” Lucy yawned.
“Okay, sleep well. I think you have a new admirer, Ona. Gary wouldn't leave you alone.” Lucy's mum winked.
Ona chuckled. “I know, I couldn't even keep up with his dancing!”
“He is funny. Alright girls. I’ll see you in the morning.” 
“Try to keep it quiet. The walls are thin!” Kevin laughed, but his laugh was cut off as his mum slapped him beside the head.
Lucy shut her bedroom door behind her, Ona stumbled in front of her, she was definitely more drunk than Lucy. The older brunette had slowed down her drinking, knowing she had a 4 hour drive home, also Ona was a lightweight when it came to drinking. 
The Spaniard  smiled as she looked over the pictures on the dresser, she hadn't noticed them until now. One in particular caught her eye, if it wasn't for the 90s clothing she would have thought it was Rudy. It was Lucy as a child with a cheeky smile that she still made now, she had her arm around a blonde girl, laughing and pointing at Lucy.  
She casted her eyes over the other pictures, the same blonde girl was in a picture with Lucy but it was years later, similar poses, the blonde laughing and Lucy looking as cheeky as always.
“Whos this?” Ona picked up the picture smiling. 
Lucy walked over, she looked at the picture and felt her heart sink.
“That's Sophie, she was my best friend.”
Ona noticed the sadness in Lucy's voice straight away.
“I’m sorry. Are you no longer friends?”
Lucy shook her head. “No, we never argued. We were friends since we were 4, she moved in a few doors down. Our mums became friends and then we naturally became closer.”
Ona smiled as she listened to Lucy. She continued.
“We did everything together. If I was there, so was she. She even worked with me on the force.” She chuckled. “Sarina made us partners at the same time. We couldn't believe it.” Lucy's eyes became watery. “We were on an early morning raid. Like we had done 100 times before. The house was declared clear. We went inside to collect evidence, but there was a man hiding inside the house. He shot her. She died before the ambulance even arrived.” 
Ona felt her own eyes watering as she watched a single tear fall from Lucy's face. 
“Sorry. Bladdy drink.” Lucy sniffled.
Ona grabbed Lucy in a hug like she had done for the smaller girl before. 
“I’m so sorry Lucy.” She rubbed the taller girls back soothingly. 
“Thank you.” 
The girls spoke about Lucy and Sophie and the antics they got into when they were young. The holidays they had been on, the night clubs they had been kicked out of. Ona couldn't stop the smile on her face, it was like learning a whole new side of Lucy. The older brunette's face lit up talking about her memories with her childhood best friend. It broke Ona’s heart that Lucy had been holding this all in, all the pain she had been through. 
The girls had found themselves laying on the bed, both their eyes slowly closing as they spoke. It was Onas eyes that closed first, mumbling about something Lucy couldn't really understand.
“Okay, let's get to bed.”
Ona groaned like a child “Can you get my clothes?”
Lucy playful rolled her eyes, a drunk Ona was a very cute Ona. She grabbed the girl's pj from her bag and threw them towards Ona. 
“Here you go.”  She chuckled as Ona groaned again.
Lucy looked in her own bag for her pjs. She couldn't help but feel a lot lighter, she hadn't talked about some of those memories since she had lost her best friend. It had been hard for the girl to talk about Sophie over the years, it was hard for her to find the strength to talk about her. But for some reason she felt completely comfortable talking to Ona about her, about their memories, about the bad days and the good days.
Lucy turned around to find Ona half dressed, her bottoms were on but her bed top was wrapped around arms.
“You okay there?” 
Ona flopped on the bed, her t-shirt trapping her arms. 
“Help me.”
Lucy chuckled, she walked over to the younger brunette, she helped her pull her shirt down, over her toned stomach. 
“Thank you Luce.” Ona crawled up to the top of the bed, snuggling herself beneath the covers. Lucy quickly changed, feeling sleep take over her own body. She finally climbed into the bed next to Ona. Turning off the light.
“You have soft lips.” Ona mumbled.
“What?” Lucy chuckled.
“I felt you kiss me in the morning, on my neck. You have soft lips.” 
“Oh…I’m sor-,” Lucy stuttered. 
“It's okay. I really liked it.” Ona whispered.
“So did I.”
“I just wish it was my lips.” 
Lucy smiled shyly, her heart fluttered. When she kissed Ona this morning she didn't do it in a sexual or seedy way. She had woken to Ona pushing herself into her. Her lips were already on Ona when she woke up. So when she woke she didn't think twice, she pressed her lips to her milky skin. 
"I wanna kiss you, Luce."
Lucy wanted to but Ona was drunk, she didn't want their first kiss like this.
“I want to so badly, but maybe when we’re not drunk? Ask me again when you're sober?"
Ona smiled. "Okay, I'll ask again."
It only took a minute before Ona was snoring.
The next morning Ona woke up to an empty bed, she then heard what sounded like the shower running. She was pleasantly surprised she wasn't as hungover as she would have thought, just a small headache, but nothing more. The bathroom door opened to a fresh face looking Lucy.
“Morning sleepy head.” Lucy smiled.
“Morning.” Ona stretched.
“How you feeling?” Lucy started to brush out her wet hair.
“Not too bad, you?”
“A little headache but nothing a full english and paracetamol can't handle.”
“Yes! I love the English breakfast!” Ona kicked her feet excitedly.
“Good, my mum goes OTT, so hopefully you’ll enjoy it.” 
“Can I shower before we go down?” Ona climbed out of the bed.
“Of course. I put a fresh towel in there for you.”
The girls got ready for breakfast, and like Lucy promised, her mum had gone in on the food, she had cooked the works and more. She placed a full English breakfast in front of a very hungry Ona. 
“Thank you!” 
“You let me know if you want anything else, I've got plenty to go.”
The kitchen was a hub of chatter as everyone talked about the night before, laughing at jokes and teasing Ona that she had a new admirer. She couldn't help but still glances at Lucy as they all laughed. The time finally came for the girls to get ready for their drive home. 
Everyone waited at the front door as the girls came to the door.
Lucys mum opened her arms out grabbing Ona in a hug, while Lucy hugged her dad.
“Oh Ona, thank you so much for spending Christmas with us. You are welcome anytime, I hope you know that.” 
Ona hugged back as much as she physically could. “Thank you so much. This has been one of the best Christmases I've ever had. You made me feel so special. Thank you.”
Lucy's dad hugged his daughter tightly. “She's a good one. Do something about it.” 
Lucy smiled, even her dad could see right through her. She hugged him tighter. 
“Make sure to drive slow. Don't go faster than you need to, stay in the slow lane.” Her mum warned.
Lucy rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes, Been driving for 10 plus years now.” 
Rudy grabbed Ona’s legs. “Bye Ona.” 
Ona knelt down and hugged the mini Lucy. “Goodbye Rudy. I’ll see you soon.”
“Bye pip squeak.” Lucy held her arms open for Rudy. The little girl giggled as she flung herself into Lucy.
The girls said their goodbyes to everyone, and got in Lucy's car. 
There had been a thick buzz between the girls since the morning. Their chat last night wasn't forgotten between the pair, but neither had said anything about it. But they didn't need to, they both knew what they wanted. It was just a 4 hour drive away. 
Finally they pulled up to Ona’s flat, helping her Ona with her bags. Lucy followed Ona into her flat, she smiled as she looked around the new space.
“You’ve got a nice place here.” Lucy lowered the bags. 
The shorter brunette walked up to Lucy. “Do you wanna see my bedroom?” 
“More than anything.” Lucy whispered. She cupped Ona’s face into her hands, she lowered herself to Ona’s lips, the lips she had wanted to kiss for months. 
Finally, their lips met. It was soft and sweet. There was no rushing, no pushing, just their lips exploring the other. Even though they had waited so long for this, they didn't want to rush. Both girls were finally getting what they had wanted for the longest time, they wanted to make the first kiss last.
But as soon as Lucy slipped her tongue into the mix and made Ona whimper, all the above went out the window. She couldn't hold back any longer. Lucy’s tilted Ona’s head back just a fraction, pushing the girl for a deeper kiss. Ona whimpered again, letting Lucy take full control of their movements. The kisses started to become messy and loud, the girls were clearly hungry for each other. The months, weeks, days of wanting, were finally here. 
“Where’s your room?” 
“First door on the left.”
The taller girl grabbed Ona by the waist lifting her up. Ona giggled as she wrapped her legs around Lucy’s waist, she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about this exact moment for a long time. 
Lucy carried the shorter girl to the bedroom, never letting their lips come apart. She walked into the open bedroom and gently lowered Ona on the bed below, laying her body on the girl beneath her. Her lips attacked Ona’s neck, sucking and kissing at the soft skin. 
“Fuck, Lucy.” Ona gasped. 
Lucy smirked proudly hearing Ona moan her name. She continued her actions, leaving small red marks everywhere her mouth touched, loving the noises she was pulling from Ona. She couldn't stop her hips from grinding into the girl, her desperate moans making Lucys pussy throb. She finally pulled back. 
“Can I take this off?” She pulled the bottom of Ona’s top.
“Yes, take it off. All of it.” She panted as she sat up.
Lucy nodded. She removed Ona’s top, then her bra, revealing her beautiful breast. She couldn't stop herself from kissing the girl's stomach. She watched as Ona’s tight abs flexed, feeling Lucy's mouth on her skin. She continued to kiss down Ona’s stomach as she popped open the girl's jeans. She quickly undone her zip and began to pull down the clothing. She looked at the girl below her, taking in her beautiful body. Her gold necklace stood out against her milky skin. 
“You too.” Ona pulled at Lucy’s top.
Lucy smiled at the girl below her, she did as the Spaniard asked and removed her clothing. Ona stared at the girl standing above her, Lucy's body was unreal, her muscular arms flexed as she pulled her clothing off. She was truly stunning. Ona sat up, she attached her mouth to Lucy's stomach, sucking on her tight skin as she undone her jeans, wanting to move this along.
Ona spotted the wet patch seeping through the fabric between Lucy's legs, smiling playfully as she eyed the older brunette. 
“Can I take these off?”
Lucy looked down at the girl, her bright brown eyes looking up at her with so much lust, so much want. It only added to the wetness pooling in between Lucy's legs.
“Yeah.” She swallowed.
Ona slowly pulled down the fabric, she let out a sigh as she saw the shiny arousal sticking to Lucy's lips. She began to kiss Lucy's thighs, getting closer to the area she wanted most, she could smell how aroused Lucy was, her own wetness dripping between her legs. 
She got closer to the sweet spot, her lips kissed Lucy's wet sensitive lips, jolting as she felt Ona. 
Ona dipped her tongue between Lucy's lips, coating her tongue in the girl's juices. Lucy gasped as her head rolled back. Ona took another long lick hitting Lucy's already swollen clit, groaning as she tasted the girl above. 
Lucy watched as Ona started to lap at her pussy, she gently stroked the younger girl's face, her fingertips brushed at her hair. She softly undid the girl's bun, hair long hair fell down her back. Lucy cradled Ona’s head as she moved her hips, rocking herself into her talented mouth. 
Ona sighed as Lucy ran her fingers through her scalp, making her shiver from the touch. 
“Ona. Your mouth. Fuck, you’re so good.”
Ona let out a low chuckle, making Lucy gasp from the vibration. She continued to lick at Lucy's cunt, swallowing her arousal every couple of minutes. Lucy gripped Ona’s hair, fucking her face gently as the girl pleasured her. She began to pick up the pace of her hips as she felt her orgasm spread up her body.
“I’m going to come.”
Ona groaned, she continued her movements, keeping the pace Lucy needed. Lucy gripped at Ona’s hair, pushing her closer between her legs. Her legs started to shake as she felt the warm sensation rise up from her stomach.
“That's it. Ona, don’t stop. Good girl. That’s soo good.”
As she came she pushed the girl's head closer to her core, needing the girl ever closer to her, her tongue was suckling her clit perfectly. She rode out her orgasm as long as she could. Ona could feel Lucy's orgasm washing over her mouth. Lucy gasped as Ona carried on licking her through the come down, she stroked her hair, allowing the girl to clean her up. She rocked her hips into her mouth for a couple more minutes, feeling Ona’s tongue against her.
“Wow, you’re talented.” Lucy chuckled.
Ona pulled back, her mouth was dripping with Lucy’s fluids. She panted as her cheeks turned a shade of pink from the compliment.
“You taste even better than I imagined.” 
“Have you imagined it a lot?” Lucy whispered. 
Ona nodded, smirking devilishly. “A lot.”
“Fuck.” 
Lucy leaned down, capturing Ona’s lips with her own, she moaned as she tasted herself on the girl. Ona’s cunt was throbbing she whimpered as Lucy began to pull her thongs down. The younger brunette  sighed as she felt the cold air hit her painfully sensitive pussy. Lucy smirked as she threw the ruined thongs over her shoulder. She looked down at Ona’s drenched pussy.
“Is that how wet you get just from making me come? Making me feel so good?” 
Ona bit her lip and nodded, not able to form words. 
“You’re amazing.” 
Lucy dipped her pointer finger between Ona’s velvety folds, groaning at the wetness. Ona jumped at the contact as Lucy just barely touched her. Lucy pushed her finger into her mouth.
“You taste so fucking good.” 
Ona panted below, desperately needing anything Lucy would give to her. Lucy placed her hand back between Ona’s spread legs, stroking her finger through her sensitive flesh. She dipped her finger into Ona’s cunt, her tight muscles flexing around her digit.
“Lucy.” 
“I love when you say my name.” Lucy growled as she began to fuck Ona. 
The younger girl let out soft moans as Lucy picked up the pace, she easily pushed another finger inside her, cutting off Ona’s crys with a deep kiss. 
“Lucy.” Ona was starting to whimper, the older girl closed her eyes, listening to the way the Spaniard moaned her name, her own pussy becoming wet again, just from the sounds of the girl.
Lucy began to kiss down Ona’s body, she sucked in Ona’s nipple, loving the way Ona’s head rolled back. She then moved over to the other side, giving it just as much attention. The girl's small body began to roll, her noises were becoming louder as Lucy’s fingers relentless fucked her.
She moved further down, gliding her tongue over Ona’s abs. The shorter girl squirmed as she felt Lucy's tongue move skirt over her flesh. Lucy began to kiss Ona’s pubic bone, loving the way she moaned. She felt the younger girl's hand thread into her hair, pushing her close to where she clearly wanted her. Lucy smiled as she kissed lower and lower. 
Finally, Lucy wrapped her lips around Ona’s swollen clit, the cry she let out was music to the older girl's ears. The hand in her hair tightened as she worked the girl's body, her fingers picked up a faster pace, causing Ona’s back to curve. Her vision began to blur as Lucy kept up the beautiful pleasure on her body. 
“Lucy!”
Lucy only hummed, not wanting to stop, she could feel Ona was getting close, her legs began to shake as her cunt tightened on her fingers, squeezing them tightly. Ona couldn't believe the way Lucy was pushing her body, she could feel her head becoming dizzy, she scrunched her eyes shut she felt the warm sensation prickle her skin.
“Merda! Lucyyyy!”
The hands pushed her further into her cunt, guiding her head up and down, Lucy loved the way Ona was controlling her movements to do what she wanted. Then she felt it before she heard it. Ona became silent, her body went rigid, but Lucy didn’t stop, she suckled and fucked Ona until she pushed her over that edge. 
“Lu-Lu….Lucyyyyyy!” 
Ona came, loud and hard. Her thighs clamped around Lucy's head as she rode out her orgasm. Her hips thrusted into Lucy's mouth as she felt her legs start to give in, panting loudly as Lucy kept up her movements. Finally the girl's body went limp, her chest was panting fast as she tried to catch her breath. 
Lucy slowly took her fingers out of Ona. She couldn't stop the smile on her face seeing the girl benather her looking completely wrecked.
“You okay?” 
“Lucy. Merda. Fuck.”
Lucy laid next to the girl laughing at her gaping face. 
She couldn't help but kiss the girl, she could definitely get used to this site. 
The girls laid with each other for another hour talking about the last couple of months.
“So when I saw you dance with her I just lost it. It was so selfish of me. I regret it so much.” Lucy stroked Ona’s back as she explained herself. 
Ona listened, she didn't hold any grudges, she would have probably done what Lucy did, maybe not as cold, but they were different people. They handled things differently. 
“When I saw you on the bridge, it made me realise just how stupid I was being. I needed to sort it out even if you didn't want me like that. I at least wanted you as a friend.”
Ona smiled as she kissed Lucy, she couldn't believe they had wanted each other for so long, and not see it as clear as everyone around them. The girls were in bliss, finally they got what they wanted. They spent the next couple of days of the Christmas break with each other, learning everything they could about the other. 
Learning everything they could about each other's bodies, what she liked, what she didn't like. What she sounded like after 3 orgasms in a row. How Ona liked her hair pulled when she fucked Lucy with her fingers. How Lucy liked to watch Ona when she rode her with a strap. And so much more.
 Everything was perfect. 
But the short Christmas break ended and work came, so the girls decided to spend a night apart. Even though it killed them to do it, they knew they needed to have at least a day apart, they would see each other the next morning when Lucy picked up Ona for work.
Lucy stood at Ona’s door. Kissing the shorter girl deeply, holding her body next to hers. 
“I’ll miss you.” Ona whispered.
“I’ll miss you too. I’ll call you when I get in?”
Ona nodded, she looked up at Lucy giving her those big brown doe eyes. Making it so much harder for Lucy to leave. 
“Onaaaa. Don’t”
The shorter girl giggled. “Sorry. Go, call me when you get in.” 
—------- 
Lucy yawned as she drove to pick up Ona. The girls had spoken late into the night, not going to bed till late. But Lucy had a new spring in her step, she felt so happy. She finally got the girl that she loved, yeah loved. It was the start of love, both girls felt it, neither saying anything as this was new, but they both felt it. 
She was surprised when she didn't see Ona sitting at her usual spot on the wall. She had never been late. Maybe she slept in from their late night call. She pulled up the car like she normally did. Maybe she was in a queue at the coffee shop? Lucy sat there for a moment, she texted Ona to say she was outside, but didn't get a text back. Lucy eyed up Ona’s building, something didn't feel right .
She got out of the car and walked to the wall where Ona sat, that's when she felt a cold shiver run down her spine. She spotted two coffee cups spilt on the floor. It was the coffee shop where Ona got their drinks. She felt the blood drain from her face. Where was Ona?
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mrghostrat · 2 months ago
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Haven’t been on tumblr in a long time.. I remember your streamer au, but nothing more. Id appreciate a small recap! :3
HII! for anyone who hasn't read it, it's a very slice-of-life collection of scenes for the most part, so there's loads of lil scenes i'll leave out of this. but here's a look back at the overall friends-to-lovers plot!
and they were streamers (10/16) (unfinished wip)
aziraphale and crowley are full time twitch streamers who live together in a london townhouse. crowley streams whatever he wants, usually toxic pvp games and "just chatting" hanging out and drinking. aziraphale streams all kinds of wholesome crafty content, such as cooking, baking, reading, and book binding.
crowley has been in love with aziraphale since... god, far too long. he'll never say anything because he knows aziraphale only sees him as a friend
aziraphale is bombarded with a hate raid during pride month, and is severely ill-equipped to moderate it himself. crowley jumps in to shut it down and fix his security settings to protect him further.
aziraphale brings crowley a cup of tea one stream (standing off-camera) when he's heavily focused on a game. he startles at the sudden presence, shouting "angel" accidentally for everyone to hear. aziraphale doesn't mind, but the chat go nuts speculating over the pet name and his relationship with his roommate
furfur, a sub-par streamer and tea-spill investigator, notes a connection on twitter between this "angel" and and old stream clip where crowley is caught ranting and rambling (very smittenly) about an "angel" in his life.
aziraphale's chat starts to wonder about the fondness between him and his elusive off-screen roommate
crowley posts in aziraphale's chat asking if he can have a bite of what he's cooking. he goes to the kitchen to try some, but the chat is too distracted freaking out that the notorious crowley is watching an aziraphale stream to realise aziraphale has actually handed a plate off camera. aziraphale seems troubled when he notices the chat is so beserk, so crowley makes a secret side account to send him a donation and tell him to keep up the good work
aziraphale comes home to find crowley in a discord call, playing party games with anathema, newt, and nina. he settles in beside him on the couch to join in.
crowley surprises aziraphale by raiding him at the end of his stream. he uses his 3,000 viewers to ask if aziraphale plans on going to a twitch meet-up in edinburgh. when crowley finally asks himself, aziraphale says yes.
the dark council, a huge and popular UK twitch team, tweets their curiosity about crowley's elusive roommate, wanting anyone with sleuthing abilities to spill the tea for them.
shaxx encourages furfur to investigate his theory that aziraphale and crowley live together, wanting him to impress the dark council twitch team to grow both their streams.
aziraphale and crowley drive to edinburgh together, playing games in the car, answering questions on twitter, and have a tense conversation on what to do if you harbour a secret crush. aziraphale thinks you should go for grand gestures, but crowley thinks it's best to bottle things up.
they attend the meet-up at a packed pub. crowley introduces aziraphale to beelzebub and promises to stick by his side, but as the drinks start flowing, they both get more comfortable to mill around and socialise on their own.
furfur, hired as the photographer for the event, arrives only after crowley and aziraphale separate from one another. but at the end of the night, gets a photo of them leaving the pub together in a drunken giggle fit, looking like smitten lovers. shaxx and furfur speculate they might be more than just roommates.
back in london, aziraphale makes plans for his holiday fundraiser stream. his viewers suggest a "roommate reveal" for £5,000. both he and crowley are flabbergasted that anyone is even slightly interested. furfur rushes to compile a tea spill twitlonger before the fundraiser.
while planning for his christmas events, aziraphale bakes a practise batch of angel cake on stream, crowley's favourite. he jumps up from the couch to eat a slice, accidentally wandering straight onto camera-- spoiling the fundraising surprise, and ruining furfur's tea spill. they're trending on twitter the next day.
aziraphale is hate raided again, but this time the raiders hack into his chat bot. crowley rushes in to reset the bot's data before they can export years of chat logs and sensitive viewer information. when the raid is halted, aziraphale is relieved, then devastated to realise everything has been wiped, until crowley assures him he made a backup of the logs, a la saving his books.
aziraphale finally realises he loves crowley. he's so overcome with affection for him, it starts to freak crowley out. crowley thinks he's getting swept up in the christmas season and is reading into affection that isn't actually there, and aziraphale thinks he's making crowley uncomfortable by upsetting the status quo
aziraphale becoems downtrodden by how closed-off crowley is being, and crowley panics when he realises he hasn't been subtle at all. he promises aziraphale hasn't done anything wrong and that he's just in his own head about their upcoming christmas party with their mods. aziraphale tries to believe him.
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oldmannapping · 8 months ago
Text
Ficlet: Bodyswap (Dick-Jason and Tim-Steph)
Based on my own prompt, which wouldn't leave my brain.
This is a body-swap fic with only the awkwardness. None of the bonding. Just the weird uncomfortable parts. Okay maybe a little of the bonding.
Excerpt:
Across the Cave, a furious voice echoed off stalagmites and startled several bats.
“Why are you so HORNY ALL THE TIME?!”
An indignant, and equally-bat-startling voice immediately responded.
“Why AREN’T you?!”
It seems there was an impasse.
It’s a tale as old as time. Batfamily meets warlock, warlock fumbles a spell, warlock disappears in a cloud of smoke, Batfamily realises they’re body-swapped…
You know. That old classic.
WARNINGS: Mentions of menstruation, mentions of sex drives and sexuality, swearing
Across the Cave, a furious voice echoed off stalagmites and startled several bats.
“Why are you so HORNY ALL THE TIME?!”
An indignant, and equally-bat-startling voice immediately responded.
“Why AREN’T you?!”
It seems there was an impasse.
It’s a tale as old as time. Batfamily meets warlock, warlock fumbles a spell, warlock disappears in a cloud of smoke, Batfamily realises they’re body-swapped…
You know. That old classic.
Dick and Jason were glaring at each other. Themselves. Each other, in each other’s bodies. You've got it, it's not your first rodeo right?
It’s been three days since the unfortunate warlock incident. As well as Jason and Dick, Tim and Stephanie have also been body-swapped in a move that seemed particularly designed by the spell/universe to cause maximum rage to Steph and mortification to Tim.
Jason and Dick have refused to allow the team to be locked down because Fuck Off, You Can’t Tell Me What To Do (Jason) and Bruce For The Good Of The Team We Need Some Space Because If We Murder Each Other It Will Be Bad For Morale (Dick).
Bruce might have held out for longer but Alfred’s visiting family in England and without his arched brow of British judgement, Bruce tends to let his children pick whichever course of action seems like it will cause the least about of hassle to Bruce’s personal routine.
He didn’t love them in the Cave 24/7 either. He’s had to ship Cass and Damian off to one of his nicer safehouses because having to manage four moody, hormonal, body-swapped vigilantes was hard enough without the mental load of school pickups and packed lunches. He misses Alfred. He’s hiding in his office at the moment, getting more Wayne Enterprises work done than he has in years.
Jason and Dick, and Tim and Stephanie, have spent three days in each other’s bodies, absolutely not patrolling or going anywhere that they’re likely to be recognised, but exercising and getting coffee and generally behaving like prisoners on day release. Zatanna has assured them that these sorts of spells usually fizzle out after less than a month, so it’s just a waiting game.
Apparently, they are bored. Apparently, they’re getting on each other’s nerves again.
Jason, in Dick’s body, has just raked his hands through his hair and pulled it nearly hard enough to rip it out.
“Why are you so HORNY ALL THE TIME!?” he has bellowed.
Dick’s reaction is to pull Jason’s body to its full height in indignation. “Why AREN’T you?” he shouts back.
Jason is at the end of his rope. “Everyone you see!” he says, pointing a finger at Dick. “I was just going for a fucking RUN. I just wanted some exercise, because this fucking body can’t go three minutes without goddam MOVING. And it just wouldn’t SHUT UP.”
He’s so mad. He continues: “This fucking body checks out EVERYONE. You’re constantly just sizing people up and thinking about boning them. ALL THE FUCKING TIME.”
Dick is also mad. “That’s not true!” he rebuts. “I notice people! We’re trained to be observant! Yeah, one of the things I notice about them is attraction. That’s NORMAL. That’s what people DO. At least I’m not thinking about the best ways I could incapacitate some poor 15-year-old barista.”
Jason flares Dick’s nostrils. “I do NOT think about hurting kids.”
Dick scoffs. “No, you think about hurting EVERYONE. Everyone you see is a threat. How could I take this person down? Am I stronger than this person? Is that lady hiding a gun in that baby stroller? All day long! You think that’s normal? You think that’s better than noticing if someone’s attractive?”
“It’s more fucking useful, especially in our line of work. You think you’ll ever save the day with a heroic boner?”
“Oh my god stop talking about it!”
“I wish I could stop THINKING about it! I had to SHOWER in this goddam body. Do you know how hard it is to ignore someone else’s boner in your shower? I nearly punched myself in the dick, pun fucking intended.”
Dick makes Jason’s teeth grind. “Do NOT break my penis.”
Jason points at Dick again like he’s a giant disobedient dog. “I will get your FUCKING nipples pierced if this body has one more hard on. I’m not fucking around.”
Dick flails Jason’s huge arms. His fluid, lithe movements look very out of place on a muscle-bound heavyweight. Almost campy. “I have literally ZERO control over that right now. You realise that right? You realise you sound ridiculous.”
“You’re the one who conditioned your body to be like this. Make it stop!”
“I don’t know if you forgot about this part of puberty or if you were just too busy being angry and emo and FARTING to notice, but boners are a fact of life, suck it up.”
“Firstly, some of us actually eat vegetables - YOU need more fibre in your diet, Grayson, don’t get me started on that – and secondly, sorry I didn’t condition myself to repress freakish amounts of lust. I must have been too busy DYING and being RESURRECTED and BRAINWASHED BY THE LEAGUE OF ASSASSINS.”
“Oh my god WE GET IT, YOU DIED. You cannot use that to win every argument. Stop being so angry in my body, I can feel how gross and grouchy yours is all the time and I don’t want you infecting mine.”
“That’s funny, since I’m probably keeping your body the cleanest it’s been since you were fifteen, you horny maniac.”
“There’s a difference between feeling attraction and acting on it! It’s NORMAL to notice people in a sexual way! Don’t shame me!”
“Stop saying ‘attraction’, this is not attraction, this is Ivy-level mind-fogging crotch-throbbing run-ruining-“
“Just because all YOU think about is violence and murder, don’t get mad at me for having a sex drive!”
“I’m not mad at you for having a sex drive! I’m mad at you for making ME have your sex drive!”
“I didn’t cast this spell!”
“I know!”
“There’s nothing wrong with being sexual and expressing it with whoever I want, as long as they’re consenting!”
“I know! I support you! I couldn’t give a fuck who you bone and I don’t want to think about it, but I support it!”
“Good!”
“Good!”
Steph and Tim are standing a few feet away, watching hypnotically. Steph uses Tim’s bony elbow to nudge him in her ribs. She whispers something to him and he snorts a laugh, then freezes.
“Um,” he says in Steph’s voice, expression tight. “I think you might need to teach me how to use a tampon. Or, uh. Sanitary pad. Whichever you’re most comfortable with. Or. Um. Maybe your body just peed? Many women develop incontinence after childbirth, so it’s fine, I just. Uh. I just want to know what I’m dealing with here.”
Steph gapes at him. “Jesus fucking Christ.” She grabs her phone and swears when the fingerprint ID doesn’t work. Jabbing in her PIN, she swipes to her period tracker app. “Fuck. Un-fucking-believable.”
Ten minutes later, Steph and Tim emerge from the Cave’s bathrooms with grim expressions, not meeting each other’s eyes.
Tim, valiantly trying to remain scientific, offers, “I didn’t know it smelled different than normal blood.”
Steph digs Tim’s nails into his palms. “Stop talking.”
Tim cannot stop talking. “I just mean. I’ve been around a lot of blood, but never, you know. That kind of blood. And I never thought about how, in its basic composition, it’s not just blood, it’s also endometrial cells and cervical lining so of course it would be different.”
“Stop. Talking.”
Tim is a nervous talker. “And also, good idea on using the gloves and applicator. That way I didn’t have to touch any, um, you know, touch your, touch you when I was doing the. Yeah. Not that it would be gross or bad to touch you, I mean. You’re very. Great. And women are. So brave. Every month. But it’s just. You know. It’s not. I mean you consented, but in this situation, is it really consent, since this whole thing is kind of coercive, since you don’t REALLY have control over your-“
“SHUT UP!”
Dick and Jason raise their heads like meerkats from where they’ve ended up facing off with their phones, stubbornly shout-reading each other google search results for “normal male sex drive” and “how do I know if I’m asexual”.
“Everything okay over there?” asks Dick, Jason’s deeper voice carrying easily across the Cave.
“Fine!” say Steph and Tim in tandem.
“Totally natural and normal!” adds Tim helpfully. “We’re totally comfortable. We’re blossoming. We’re very healthy.”
Steph groans. “I cannot believe I used to date you.”
Part Two
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bloodylullaby · 2 months ago
Text
The Weight We Share
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Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader
Word Count: 890
Master List
Author's Note: I'M BACK! I missed everyone, but it was a long and much needed break! Please enjoy a cute short story ❤️
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This week has been exhausting for you. You've been running around nonstop for several days, preparing to go on tour with the boys. Your to-do list has been endless: setting up appointments to board your pets, arranging for a house sitter, and making time to see friends and family before you're gone for two months. You've also been packing your bags, organizing your travel itinerary, and ensuring that all the necessary equipment and supplies are ready for the tour. Every spare moment has been filled with tasks, leaving you excited and overwhelmed.
On this particular day, the sun was scorching more than in the past few days, leaving you irritated since you don’t do well in the heat. You've been away from home all day and are ready to get back and recharge your social battery. As soon as you pull into the driveway, you leave all your shopping bags in the car and head straight into the house. Opening the door, you're welcomed by the sight of your boyfriend, Noah, sitting on the couch playing video games.
Toeing off your shoes, you quietly walk to the couch and lay your head on one end, resting your feet on Noah's lap. He chuckles softly and begins to rub your legs. "Long day, sunshine?" he asks with a small smile. You nod, too tired to speak. He glances over and notices how worn out you look, pausing his game to give you his full attention.
“You seem a little stressed, baby. Do you want to talk about it?” he asked gently. Slowly, you took a deep breath, and a few tears began to trickle down your face.
“I’m just so overwhelmed. Don’t get me wrong, I’m super excited about the next two months, going on tour with you and the guys. But trying to get everything in order and making time to see everyone is overwhelming. The hours in the day seem to get shorter and shorter, and it’s becoming more difficult to fit everything in.”
As you speak, Noah notices the fast pace of your words and sees you struggling to breathe. “Hey, it’s okay, sunshine. Look at me,” he says, gently holding your face and guiding your eyes to meet his. “Follow me and do what I’m doing, okay?” he asks softly. All you can do is nod while trying to catch your breath.
“Okay, follow my lead,” he says reassuringly. He begins by taking a slow, deep breath through his nose, and you mimic his actions. He holds it for a count of five before slowly exhaling through his mouth. You follow his lead, repeating the breathing exercise until he sees the color returning to your face and notices you calm down. He moves his hands from your face to your hands, holding them gently yet firmly.
“Now that you've calmed down let’s look at this together. You’re feeling overwhelmed trying to do everything yourself, right?” he asks.
“Yes,” you mumble, focusing on the calm feeling and trying not to spiral again.
“Sunshine, let me help you. You don’t have to carry this load alone,” he says softly. You sigh, shifting slightly, trying not to feel guilty.
“I know,” you reply quietly. “I just didn’t want to bother you. I know you’re really busy getting ready for the tour, and I didn’t want to ruin your one day off by adding more to your plate. Besides, I’m used to figuring things out on my own.” Noah gives you a small smile before he brings your hand up to his lips and gives it a gentle kiss.
“I know, sunshine, but we’re a team. You may be used to figuring things out and doing everything independently, but now you have me. Even though today was my day off, I would have dropped everything to help you. Trust me when I say this: I love you, and you’ll never have to carry any burden alone. Let me help you, baby. Let me be there for you and make things easier to carry.”
You look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity in them. The tension in your shoulders starts to ease as you let his words sink in. You’ve always prided yourself on being independent, but the comfort of having someone to share the load with feels like a warm blanket around your heart.
“Okay,” you whisper, your voice a little shaky but full of relief. “I’ll let you help.”
He smiles softly, a look of pure affection in his eyes. “That’s all I wanted to hear,” he says, reassuringly squeezing your hands. “We’ll figure this out together.”
As you both sit there, holding each other’s hands, you begin to talk through the things that have been overwhelming you—planning for the tour, making time for friends and family, and the little tasks that have been piling up. Noah listens intently, offering suggestions and reassuring you that you don’t have to do it alone.
With each problem you discuss, the weight on your shoulders seems to lift a little more. By the end of the conversation, you feel lighter, more in control, and, most importantly, not alone. Noah pulls you into a warm embrace, and you feel like you can breathe easily for the first time in days.
“We’ve got this,” he murmurs into your hair. “One step at a time, together.”
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