#so pls forgive me for reaching out again
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ryegarden ¡ 2 years ago
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hello trans people on my phone. here’s a new one. someone help me form a question for my essay? it is due next week 3000 words and i have not even formed a question </3 it can be on anything, just has to be a question and tangentially in some way related to work (and . easy to research) i have a lot of research on medical cisgenderism and implicit transphobia, trans rage, and emotional labour. unsure where to go from here tho. the main idea rotating around my mind is looking at how cis people project their sex obsession onto the trans community but idk where to go from there hugely :/ any suggestions or jumping points for research are very much welcomed !!
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varicrux ¡ 1 year ago
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hello fwends! today marks my first real day off from work and the end of my summer term yaaay i have a bit of errands to run and some cleaning to do, but i'll be purging my inbox besides a few recent asks and probably doing the same to my drafts so i can start fresh for my break! i'll be reblogging some memes and maybe throwing out some opens? perhaps a starter call as well? we'll see! but i'll be here and also playing some new mmo w my partner they want me to play lol
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torubeth ¡ 8 months ago
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degradation taken too far (mature content 18+)
context/warnings : it’s smut, so kids shoo! hell of a lot of degradation. they’re so mean i hate them. (swearing, words used : slut and slutty) angst to i have no idea what. pls do lmk if i missed any tws. and as always, its not proofread :p gojo ver.
ryomen sukuna ‘is that all you can do? all your yapping earlier about ridin’ me was just talks? answer me’ his sudden shift in demeanour has you feeling really small. sure he is a rude ass prick but not to you. never to you.
‘no- i can take it. i really can ryo’ tears sting at your eyes as you struggle to take in his full length. his hands giving your waist a small squeeze.
‘yeah and that’s all you’ve been saying for the past goddamn fifteen minutes. either you take it like a good girl or i’ll just have to find someone who will. trust me, i can’ he eyes held no remorse of the words he just spewed and that’s when you break.
correction, you shatter.
somewhere in the back of your head you knew he’ll never leave you but him wording it out makes it seem like it’s bound to happen.
and so tears stroll down your cheeks, your hands and legs giving out on you, your body going limp against his and you whisper the same thing over and over again.
‘don’t leave me ryo. i’m sorry. didn’t mean to upset you. i’m so sorry. don’t leave’
quickly his arms wrap around your body protectively, your face between his shoulder blade and neck, wetting the area with fresh batch of tears.
‘i could never leave you. you’re-’ you’re it for me. ‘you’re always the one that keeps me sane. there’s no way i’ll ever leave you. i’m sorry baby, forgive me. i didn’t mean a word of what i said’ he says.
when he didn’t get a response from you ‘look at me’ he whispers. slowly you leave the comfort of his neck and meet his eyes.
‘i didn’t mean it. you could leave me on deathbed and i still wouldn’t mean it’
‘i can’t leave you ryo. i love you way too much’ you sniffle, new tears threatening to spill so you go back to huddle against his neck.
god. he knows you mean it. and that’s what makes him feel like a dickhead.
‘me too, i- i lo-’ he struggles, just as your palm reaches up to cover his mouth.
‘i know ryo, i know’ you whisper, placing your forehead against his, both of you basking in the quietness of the surrounding.
geto suguru ‘fuckin-! ah shit! some insane grip you have on me baby. can’t move if you clench and lock me up like that’ he smirks against your neck.
‘and a bit quiet today ain’t ya? you sure had a lot to say to satoru earlier heh’ he remarks.
‘we were just catching up suguru, nothing-! nothing more’ you whine.
‘catching up you say? does catching up require smiles and touches? do they angel baby?’ he raises his eyebrows.
‘no..’ you avert your eyes away from his.
‘that’s what i thought. so for that, now you pay’ he pulls out suddenly, and pushes all the way back in making you yelp out loud.
‘sugu! ah fuck, i don’t think i can go another round baby. s’too much!’ the pressure was starting to get to you and you were starting to lose stability.
‘hah, i know you can baby, this slutty pussy’s all you’re good for anyway. fuck, doesn’t matter whose it is, as long as you’re filled. am i right?’ his words pierced straight through your heart.
since when did he-?
out of reflex, your hands reach out to touch his face to make sure that this was a dream nightmare. otherwise there’s no way he-
‘don’t touch me with those filthy hands’ he spits but makes no effort to push your hand off.
‘do you really think that’s all i’m good for?’ your voice is soft, filled with pain, and suddenly it’s like he’s broken out of his trance.
what the fuck am i doing, he thought.
slowly he pulls out, all whilst holding your hand against his cheek.
‘absolutely not. no. fuck, did not mean it angel. i promise. i- i don’t know what came over me-! didn’t mean it. please i’m sorry. next time if i ever lose my shit with you, i want you to take the nearest sharp object and plunge it into my chest’ he heaves out a guttural sigh.
‘you were really mean you know..’ you wipe your eyes.
‘i know baby, fuck. i didn’t mean it. i did not mean it. i’ll never do it again princess, ever’ he repeats.
his face lands on your chest, thanking all the gods and the stars out there for giving him another chance.
he’ll never screw up again and that’s a promise.
nanami kento ‘you really couldn’t wait for a few hours? just had to go and think with your cunt, right? have you no- ugh! no shame?’ his thrusts were sloppy as his hands were placed around your hips.
‘kento- slow down baby, i- i don’t think i can last’ you whine, hands clutching at the sheets.
‘no. you asked for this you little slut. so shut. the. fuck. up. and take it!’ each syllable was accompanied by a harsh thrust.
the usually composed, sweet and calm nanami was nowhere to be found. he’s never once called you a ‘slut’ and what caused this? you rubbing him through his pants and riling him up at his office dinner earlier tonight.
he warned you off multiple times but did you listen? no.
‘why are you so quiet now? i thought this is what you wanted’ his voice comes out raspy and cold.
a quiet but audible whimper escaped your lips, making him halt his actions.
slowly he pulled out, gently laying you on your back as your body shook with each sob.
‘sweetheart…? why are you…’
you look up at him, eyes puffy and swolllen ‘i’m sorry kento, it’s just that, you’re never home these days and i missed you so much’ a cry that’s sure to crack his heart leaves your lips.
‘i just wanted you all to myself for tonight but i didn’t mean to be a bother-’
his warm body hovers over yours, ‘you’re never a bother baby. always know that. you will always be at the top of every and any list i make. there’s nothing more i want than coming home to you everyday after work. and i didn’t mean to lash out at you. you didn’t deserve that, i’m sorry’ he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.
‘you will always have me sweetheart, never forget that. now let me make it up to you yeah?’
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eternalsunrise ¡ 4 months ago
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shower talk.
deadpool (wade wilson) x f!reader
wc: 750 (drabble)
tags! established relationship, sexual & murder references (duh)
notes! wade brainrot is so bad idk, logan fic coming soon pls forgive me
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wade often barges into the bathroom while you’re in the shower just to sit on the toilet seat and rant about the mission he just went on, or even to ask what takeout you want for dinner. couldn’t it wait until you had clothes on? sure, but he wants to talk to you now.
unexpectedly, you decide to take a page out of his playbook.
you’ve just walked in the door after your 9-5, throwing your keys and bag haphazardly across the room in frustration. you spy the familiar rumpled up red and black suit on the floor, wade was home. you had complained last week about deadpool tracking blood into the apartment after his “work.” it seemed your boyfriend had listened and obliged. if it weren’t for your bad day, the image of him cupping his crotch as he scrambled naked into the bathroom would’ve made you smile.
you hear the water still running, but you finally understand how wade feels, this can’t wait. you open the bathroom door and throw the toilet lid down, unsure if wade even heard you enter over the sound of his own voice belting hall and oates’ greatest hits.
you sit down and let out an overdramatic sigh. your boyfriend’s voice quiets down halfway through “out of touch”
“honey bear? you’re home! these stab wounds will heal in about two minutes then you can join me. i know how you feel about seeing intestines, and i don’t want to make you gag…well scratch that i do sometimes—“
“i fucking hate men.”
you hear the sound of the shower curtain opening slightly, and wade’s head peaks out, looking at you with wide eyes, “woah language, babydoll! you know degradation turns me on.” his head tilts to the side, noticing the distress written on your face “but i have a feeling this isn’t about me…”
you spare him a narrowed glance, then watch as his head disappears. the curtain closes and you hear the water hit skin again as he resumes his shower. he’s giving you time to speak. remarkable.
“you remember that guy i told you about? the one that gave me major creep vibes? and was just an all around dick?”
you get a hum in response, and you can’t see it, but you know wade is physically biting his tongue so he doesn’t say anything. it’s endearing in a way.
you rub your face with your hands, the memory of what you’re about to say lights the fire of anger again, “well. guess who got that promotion i was being eyed for? i’ll give you a hint, it’s not someone with a vagina! and on top of that, i saw him try to look under my skirt as i was leaving! that fuck.”
you almost regretted telling him that last part, knowing where this was going. but your mind was clouded by frustration, and the water was already turned off. the rings screech against the metal shower rod as wade throws the curtain open, reaching over your head for a towel. “okay sweet thing. where does this cock suck and fuck live?”
your eyes catch a glimpse of red turning pink as it swirled into the tub drain. you shake your head, suddenly realizing the severity of what your mercenary boyfriend was implying. “no no babe please it’s not that serious! and you just got home. not to mention if people found out, you’d get in so much trouble all because of something silly that happened to me and—“
a long finger is placed over your lips. you’re eye level with wade’s v line, partially covered by the towel now wrapped around his waist. you trail your eyes upward, locking them with the one who interrupted your rambling.
“shhh. nonsense kitten. now. you’re going to tell me this guy’s address, and i’m going to go out for…” wade uses his free arm to look at a make believe watch, “hmm, about an hour. while i’m gone, you’re going to change out of this sexy pantsuit. then have a glass of wine, and touch yourself while you think of me fondly. i’ll grab dinner on the way home. yes?”
when you nod with wide eyes in agreement, he removes his finger, bending down to meet your face, “atta girl.” he praises as his lips graze your own, kiss light as a feather. he clears his throat then, patting your cheek a few times as he stands up to walk out of the bathroom. whistling as if murder was all in a day’s work (you suppose for him it is)
you sit there stunned, wondering if you just got your coworker murdered….and why you were so turned on.
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sweetypouch ¡ 18 days ago
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Forever With You
Mr. Crawling
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Synopsis: Even your home doesn't feel like a home ever since you left the other world, so you decided to go back and stay with him for good.
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Spoilers!⚠️ From END03: I'm Back
Incorrect grammar (pls forgive me)
Mr. Crawling being a cutie patootie
I was really feeling like writing something for him because I luv him so much
Word count: 1,648
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Ever since you came back to your own world, life's been peaceful. No mysterious rooms, no creepy monsters, and no blood spilling everywhere you go.
At first it was hard to keep yourself sane, being kept for a long time in a world that's not known to you, being away from your loved ones, being alone without anyone to stay with you, of course it would be tough.
Except there's a certain someone who stayed with you throughout your journey, wandered with you around the endless maze of unpredictable paths, protected you from any threats, and taught you two important things: what is love and what it feels like to be loved.
You know people would criticise you, calling you a 'psycho' or even 'insane' for loving a monster like him. And even if it's him against the world, you know to yourself who to pick.
And it'll always be him.
Now...what was his name again?
Mr......Crawling?
Is that it?
It sounds so familiar, yet so foreign to hear.
Am I right?
Or am I wrong?
Where is he?
Ah. That's right. You both got separated just as you reached the exit, it felt so painful leaving without him, like a part of you was stuck elsewhere. What was more horrifying to see is how your memories of the other world slowly fades like it's just a fever dream you once had. A string of hope always comes at the last possible moment, as if it wants you to be stuck to choose whether to keep on trying to remember everything or just let it disappear once and for all.
For the past few nights you've always found yourself stuck in the same dream every single time: Your body under the blankets of a hospital bed, and he's keeping an eye out for you, laying his cold head on your stomach with half of his face hiding underneath his long, black hair, watching you with that seemingly creepy but cute smile of his as he asks the same question over and over again.
"You like me?"
And every time you reply to him with the same answer again and again...
"I like you"
He'd laugh and ruffle your hair. He'd say how happy he is to hear that as he kept on laughing, muttering "I like you" numerous times.
And you'll always wake up with a tear-stained face and a tightened chest, longing for his touch and his love.
So you made the decision to finally end it all, end all the suffering, and go back to that building with no regrets. You prepared yourself and hurriedly ran outside your apartment to find the place where it all started.
The cold and quiet structure had this familiar breeze flowing even on the inside of your thick jacket. When you finally came across a large mirror with lots of cracks and a single hole just in the middle of it, you know you're almost there.
Shoes clacking on the concrete floor with each step, echoing through the spacious hallway, you wasted no time and stopped just infront of the large mirror. You take a glance of yourself, noticing the redness and the puffiness of your eyes as you carefully touched it.
You must've cried really hard last night.
Too focused on yourself, you didn't notice a single eye observing you through the hole. And when you finally shifted your eyes to meet the familiar man, you quickly leaned closer to the void.
"Mr. Gap!" You called out. Desperate eyes staring at him intensely.
You can sense him smiling just from the way his eyes curled up. It has been so long since you last saw him and you can feel yourself regaining those memories you almost lost.
"Please take me back!" You pleaded, not realizing that there's a language barrier between the two different worlds. Mr. Gap frowned, obviously telling you that he doesn't understand a word you said, yet he knows from that tone of your voice that you need help.
"Need help?" He asked.
You nod without a second, and instantly reply back, knowing you're finally getting the hang of their language.
"Need help return" You uttered out, and he was quick to respond, and you know just exactly what he'll do in exchange for helping you.
His hand suddenly pops out of the hole, curled up like he wants you to give something to him, which is just what he wants. "Give me your hair?" He chuckled, waiting for your response.
You took a pause and caressed your hair resting on your shoulder, you never actually realized how long it has been since you came back to your own world, your hair had grown over alot.
You smiled, a signal that you consented and that's where he was quick on action to grab you and the next thing you knew...
You're here.
You're back.
Now you just wished you were at the same time as him.
You looked to your side and found a cracked hole in a wall, and there goes Mr. Gap with his sinister eye smile. You asked him about the others, referring to them as someone you're with the last time you're here.
Happy was definitely an understatement to what you're feeling right now, it's far more than just feeling happy that you're finally here. You can finally see him again. You thanked Mr. Gap and decided to leave, but before he lets you vanish, he gave you a crowbar. It's not what you really needed right now but it's not bad to bring one just in case.
"Thank you" you worded out, still grateful to him for helping you, you're quite lucky he didn't ask for a heart or you would surely do what you need to do, even if it gets real bloody. He left the shadows and you headed off to who knows where, as long as there's a door or a way out.
With a crowbar on your hand, you walk past several rooms, some are familiar, while some are probably a new one. Encountering some familiar faces was really refreshing, some of them were Mr. Masque, Mr. Hood, and Mr. Machete. It's like a reunion with friends from the other side, but they're not the main reason you're here, you were still dedicated into searching for a familiar crawling man whom you really really want to see.
Finally, after resting for a little bit, you finally found that same room you had in your dream, you immediately turned the knob and walked right in.
No one was there.
You plopped down on the bed, feeling down knowing that he wasn't here, he might still be looking for you but you're already worn out, your feet are sore from all that walking and running.
Maybe if you take a rest, you'll find him next to you the moment you wake up. Lifting both your legs on the bed as you get yourself comfortable, you suddenly hear a weeping noise, like someone is crying.
You stopped moving and waited for it to make noise again, and it scared you for a bit, it was really close to you, but there's no one in this room but you.
It sounds like it's coming under the bed. You quickly looked to the left side of the bed, and found nothing, you had to make sure it's safe to look underneath before going at it. You looked to the right side and found a hair peeking out from under your bed, it was long, and dark.
You got up and sat on the floor, just infront of the dark view from under the bed. Leaning closer to examine it very closely, you shrieked for a second and backed away instantly when a face popped out of the shadows.
It looked at you for a while, before deciding to crawl out of there. Soon, it all came to view. It was him.
"Mr. Crawling-" before you could even finish your sentence, he jumped at you and completely wrapped you fully covered on his hold. Your arms made its way to wrap around his neck, hugging him back with your head buried on his shoulder.
"Found you!" He sounded happy as well, and his crying noises had finally stopped. Now it was your time to cry in his arms.
"I'm sorry" you repeated a few times before finally breaking down. He's confused as a baby, not knowing the reason why you're suddenly feeling sad. And with that he replied back. "Why sad? Not happy found me?" His hands gently pet your head, knowing just how much you need it as your sobs and sniffled echoed through the room.
"Happy, too happy" you replied between your sobs, and looked at him with your puffed-out eyes, he looked even more confused and the way his mouth frowned just showed how much he's clueless to what's happening to you. Without any second, he cupped both your cheeks and leaned closer just close enough for his nose to bump into yours.
"You pain? Hurt?" He asked.
"No, me fine" you assured him, and the look on his face was more than enough to make you giggle because it's still as confused as ever, you shrugged the idea of explaining it to him more further as it could lead to more misunderstandings. You gave him a peck on his lips and smiled. The laughter that comes out of him after kissing him was like a remedy for your pain, and you're finally at rest when he keeps you on his hold, muttering words like, "Me together with you", "I like you", and "Protect you".
"You rest?" was the last thing you heard him ask before finally falling asleep, ready for a new day tomorrow with him by your side.
It's decided. You're gonna stay with him forever.
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feyascorner ¡ 1 year ago
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before my nails dig
summary. in which one of Astarion's especially vivid nightmares results in him waking up to Tav at the mercy of his own hands...and the shame that comes with it.
warnings. angst, fluff, comfort
pairing. Astarion x GN!reader
a/n. someone pls get this man therapy that's all i ask,,, also this takes place sometime during act 3 before you confront cazador!! first post too so pls forgive typos
Had breathing always been this hard?
It's not like he had to breathe anyway. The undead have more perks than one would think, and having no need for air was one that became particularly useful in unexpected ways. Yet as he stands in Cazador's dungeon again--a place he longs to rid from the darkest corners of his mind--all he can do is stumble over his own breath, crimson eyes darting around frantically in search of an exit.
And suddenly, his siblings are at the mercy of the ascension, floating helplessly in the chains of a red aura--Cazador's aura. Despite the chaos, Astarion's eyes narrow in on the one pedestal with no occupant, and he realizes it's his own designated place.
It's getting harder to breathe now.
A breath creeps up behind his shoulder, sending pure dread throughout his entire body as he hears Cazador's voice far too close than he ever wanted it to be.
"Wake up, child. This is all you've ever been meant for."
Astarion whips around and lunges at the man, his hands wrapping viciously around the throat he's fantasized about ripping apart for the past two hundred years. His nails dig into the flesh of the vampire lord's neck, leaving indents in the shape of crescent moons, just enough to cause panic but not enough to draw blood. But Cazador only cackles, his eyes staring right into Astarion's as he hollers over and over again.
"Wake up."
"Wake up!"
"--Astarion!"
The spawn's eyes snap open, recognition finally flooding his expression as he finds himself staring down at you. The very face he sees in the softest of dreams, the lips he longs to kiss at every waking moment, and the eyes that gaze at him with the love and adoration he's been missing for most of his wretched eternal life. Though he'd never admit it, you saved him. From the moment he'd threatened your life at the nautiloid crash to the moment he held you close to his chest in the confines of his tent, he would be by your side until you tired of him and threw him away.
All he wanted--all he could wish for--was only a fraction of it in return. And you'd given him that, and so much more.
But now, you're scared. Terrified, even. Of him.
With horror, he realizes his fingers are digging into your throat. Your precious, tender throat that you offer him not for something in return, but simply because you care for him.
All at once as he tears his hands away, he wants to cut them off and bury himself in his own grave again. He doesn't meet your eyes, afraid of what disgust might be held in them, but he knows you're too kind for that. Too kind to see the kind of monster he is.
You're gasping for your breath, and his stomach knots in a way that would have sent him hurling if it weren't for the fact that he's too occupied drinking in what he's done. To you.
"I'm okay, I'm okay, Astarion," you choke out, perching on both your elbows as you struggle to recover. Even now, all you seem to care about is him. He almost hates you for it--hates you for not stabbing a stake through his heart the moment his hands met your neck. "Astarion-"
"Your throat," he croaks, despising the slight crack of his voice as he reaches for your cheek, but stops before he even gets close. He doesn't trust himself to open his mouth again.
"It's okay, really, I can just get Shadowheart to heal me," you shake your head, and he finds himself in disbelief as you crawl toward him, tossing the sheets to the side. He shifts the slightest away and you understand, immediately sitting back down. You look like you want to say something, but you close your mouth and watch him patiently, as if waiting for him to make the first move.
After a suffocating silence, he turns his back to you. "I'll be sleeping elsewhere tonight."
He intends of never sharing a room with you again, in fear of what he could possibly do to you as a result of his selfish desires to keep you close, and you seem to pick up on the tone of his words. You always do. "Astarion, please."
"I do apologize, sincerely. I'll form a better apology tomorrow, but for now, I'll fetch Shadowheart or that damned wizard and-"
He fights the urge to shiver when he feels your hand on his. How you manage to have such an impact on him with a simple touch he does not know, and does not care because all he wants is more. To pull you close, to beg you to keep him, to use him, to punch him, strangle him for all he cared, in hopes you'll even consider ever speaking to him again. Instead, he turns to look at you.
Gods, you're beautiful.
Even with those terrible bruises he'd go to hell and earth to take back, your beauty in unmatched with anything he's ever seen. Even with the bed hair and the anxiousness pursing your lips, he can't bring himself to look away again.
"Please stay. I'm not mad, nor afraid."
The words sound like honey on your tongue.
"Please," You say again, slowly this time. "Stay."
His chest feels tight, threatening to tear itself apart as his voice comes out in a crooked whisper. "I could have killed you."
"You didn't."
"If you died too, I don't know--what would I even do with myself? What would I-" He hates it when he sounds like this. Vulnerable, or as Cazador liked to call it: pathetic. But he can't help the words tumbling out his blasted mouth with the way you're gazing at him with nothing but worry. Somehow, with you, it feels strange.
Refreshing, almost.
Your hand squeezes around his as if to remind him you're still here. He meets your eyes again and it's all it takes to break what little will he has left, as he lets you pull him close in a crushing hug--one that's all too welcomed.
And as the two of you lie awake in each other's embrace, he thanks all the gods he doesn't worship for putting you on his path.
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hwallazia ¡ 2 months ago
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ANGELS IN TIBET – 송민기
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synopsis . in which mingi clearly can’t keep it inside his pants. not even at the cinema.
pairing . song mingi & fem! reader
genre . smut (mdni!), established relationship, non idol!au.
taglist . @bro-atz @purplenimsicle @vampzity @iykyunho @yyaurii | apply to join my taglist ♡
word count . 1,7k
DISCLAIMER! dom! mingi , sub! reader , exhibitionism , cockwarming in a public space , clit play , reverse cowgirl position , mocking , dirty talk , praise , pet names (dove, good girl, babe & more) , wet kisses ooh , mingi is desperate for yn’s touch and attention.
NIC’S NOTES this was a request that i’ve had pending since april i think? and i’m so sorry for not working on it until now (like fr i’m beyond embarrassed, anon pls forgive me) but she’s finally here! as well as me hehe, i’m trying to get back on track with writing, it’ll take some time tho. for now, enjoy this, loves <3
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mingi’s behavior could be defined as needy.
he swung his arm swiftly across your shoulders, keeping you safe and close next to him — close enough to smell his faint natural, manly and rich scent. he kept throwing his head on the crook on your neck and then lifting it, then letting it fall down your shoulder’s blade. why was he so impatient?
you tried to remain calm and pay attention to the damn movie playing in front of your eyes until mingi’s nth sigh struck your peaceful state of mind. “mingi, what’s wrong?”
your soft, low question made him tilt his head up, once again. “nothing.” his short reply caused your eyes to narrow almost shut — which he probably didn’t get to observe since the darkness of the theatre blurred some of each other’s features. an even quieter “then quit squirming” came from your lips and mingi jutted his bottom lip. “but i’m cooold.” he whined in response.
thankfully he didn’t see your eyeroll because he prolly would’ve scattered in tears on the spot. “how can you be cold when you have a big ass jacket on?” you paused, turning your body to analyze his perfectly covered figure. “and a sweater underneath it?” you deadpanned.
“do i look like i know?” he huffed, placing his head back into the juncture of your neck — might as well be a single organ now. “i just feel cold and i’m looking for my beloved girlfriend’s comfortable warmth. is that too much to ask?”
“but how do you want me to—” your complaint was cut out by the loud, clearly annoyed shush of the old lady sitting below the two of you. she angled her body so her bothered gaze met yours, her wrinkles were palpable thanks to the dim, yet shiny lighting provided by the projector. you mouthed an apology and gave her your most sweet, sheepish smile. her soft huff reached your ears and embarrassment spread all over your cheekbones.
“see? now the old lady is pissed at us because of you.” mingi dared to open his mouth and your head gyrated slowly, almost in a comedic motion, and he nearly let out his squeaky laugh at the sight of your unbelievable facet, jaw hang open comically.
“how dare you.” you quipped; eyelids almost closing your eyes as if you were ready to object, yet you remained quiet. you repositioned your figure towards the projected screen, causing mingi to abandon the occupied place. vague and nearly lifeless brain cells tried to recollect and understand what had happened during the time you drifted away from the movie.
mingi’s soft, low chuckle summoned the chilliest of goosebumps creeping down your spine, a slight arch going unseen. “don’t be like that, babe.” he reached for the side of your shoulder to squeeze it and to resume your last position; nose nestling on the lateral part of your neck again. he let a trail of wet, romantic kisses all along the valley of your neck, your ticklish skin made your body squirm and giggle quietly. 
“mingi—stop.” you muttered between little and nearly inaudible squeaks, a childish and wholesome smile drawn across your lips. something that mingi could see up close.
he’s just so in love with you. so madly in love.
mingi stopped for a moment, letting your hyperventilated self calm down; sweet strokes, provided by fingers full of affection, were present on the side of your shoulder. 
“hey babe?” he hushed in a certain tone. a chilly, gravelly voice scraping through you.
“hm?”
“i think i know a way you can warm me up.”
his mouth paced throughout the length of your neck to land a kiss on its soft flesh before flying to the shell of your ear; an enchanting shudder of anticipation exciting you already. “care to share with the class?”
your words, enveloped in a velvety hue of seduction, caused the little hairs placed on his nape to stand on end. he hummed in satisfaction before responding. “you fancy trying something new, dove?”
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one moment, you were cuddling with your boyfriend in the cinema’s seats, watching the movie you had paid for. the next, you were cockwarming his girthy length — don’t worry! the folds of your loose, white skirt hid it perfectly. how sinful it was for a pearl-like fabric to cover such a lewd scene.
your walls clenched and relaxed against the sides of his cock every now and then from the excitement and adrenaline. plus, mingi moved incessantly, excusing himself by implying “he had a cramp” or he was “getting comfy”. if only the old lady could see that you and mingi could ruin a movie screening in more ways than just talking.
mingi’s low grunts tensed your limbs, your mind floating around already. his cock tip kissed your cervix deliciously; white spots filling your dark irises. “fuck, babe. so tight and wet f’me.” his grip on your trembling hip growing stronger as you greedily sucked him whole. “didn’t think you’d be up for this. y’ know, since you’re so shy” he mocked pathetically, whining like you would now if it weren’t for the place where this was taking action.
his big hands abandoned your shuddering hips, swiftly moving under your plush thighs; slim fingers curling up your flesh. you knew he wanted you to move, his uneven breathing and a slight tug on your skin gave him away so easily. but fuck, you couldn’t bring yourself to quench his desire — you already felt too exposed by just cockwarming him. your breath hitched as you clamped onto him involuntarily, your squishy insides making mingi melt in satisfaction. the lowest of grunts fanned against your earlobe. 
you couldn’t help the tiny mewl that slipped off your tongue. fuck, everything was starting to be too much.
and mingi’s fingers crawling their way to your swollen clit didn’t make it any better.
your shameless, pathetic moan startled the elderly woman seated a few rows down. again, she gyrated her core to stare in your direction, unamused of the interruption, but before she could meet your eyes, you hid your flushed face in the crook of mingi’s defined neck; teeth digging into the plump flesh of your lips to mute your whimpers and tiny cries from the old woman’s seemly acute hearing. 
mingi’s index and middle fingers didn’t stop working on your sensitive bud, but they did slow down their pace, setting now a very tortuous tempo; exasperated exhales fanned against his neck. mingi’s dark, lust-filled irises met the aged woman’s eyes, which were pouring annoyance.
his unbusy hand pointed at the screen, showing fake interest. “this movie’s real good.” he expressed, approvingly. at this rate, an oscar should be given to mingi because of his ability to remain with a calm demeanor given the circumstances. don’t get him wrong though, it took everything from him not to tell the lady to fuck off and let you and him be. 
 the elderly lady squinted her small eyes with disapproval — not that mingi gave a damn — and finally turned to face the projected screen once again. a quiet, soft exhale was released through mingi’s nostrils, his attention now fully focused back on you.
his deep, masculine tone rumbled through his core, and shivers were sent directly down your spine. “c’mon, angel. pay attention, i didn’t spend money on these tickets for nothing” he hummed, the intention of teasing was painted in his tone as clear as water. “or is it that you’re gonna cum?”
“ming—ngh! i—i’m s’ close. so fuckin’ close” you exhaled. “faster, fuck—please, faster” you settled your head, so it rested on his shoulder. he didn’t miss the chance to shower your exposed neck with wet, lascivious kisses while whispering the dirtiest things right on your ear.
“well aren’t you a greedy little thing?” mingi cooed at you mockingly one more time and with your bothered and high pitched, yet quiet whimper, he chuckled. “’s okay, babe, gonna give you just what you deserve for being such a good girl.”
your gummy walls clenched around his hardened shaft multiple times as his fingers played with your plush clit like a guitar in a relentless pace. 
“let me see you fall apart.” he muttered with the huskiest voice known to men, and with his cock filling you to the brim and his skillful phalanges driving you straight to the abyss perfectly, you reached a satisfying peak, crying out mingi’s name. he didn’t stop his sloppy movements though, completely committed to drawing out the sensation for as long as possible and when you finally felt completely sated, you let your trembling core collapse against mingi’s strong chest. 
his hands didn’t hesitate to wrap around your body, a trail of the sweetest praises showering you entirely. a giddy smile was drawn on your lips — your red, swollen and probably broken lip.
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when the movie ended, you and your boyfriend made your way to the exit door, coincidentally meeting the hunchbacked old woman face to face. of course, you earned yet another displeased glance.
as you walked toward your apartment, mingi couldn’t help but remember the event that had happened not long ago and decided to express exasperatedly “oh my god, i was ’boutta throw hands with that nosy ass woman.”
you snorted at his comment. “mingi, she’s a poor old lady that just wanted to enjoy the movie in peace and not having to deal with a horny couple of teenagers.”
“babe, we ain’t teenagers. we’re wayyy past our twenties.” he stated the obvious.
you rolled your eyes playfully. “yeah, well, you sure don��t act like it sometimes. who picks a fight with an old lady during a rom-com?”
mingi chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “she started it! i was just trying to give you a little—”
“—a little what?” you interrupted, raising an eyebrow. “a little public embarrassment? because mission accomplished.”
he smirked, leaning closer. “can’t deny you didn’t like it.”
you huffed, trying to suppress a smile. “you and your little horny and helpless self… always getting us into trouble.”
mingi shrugged, unbothered. “i don’t regret a thing.”
“just... try not to traumatize any more old ladies, okay?” you teased, lightly tapping his arm.
“deal,” he said with a grin, wrapping his arm around you. “but no promises if they keep interrupting my movie time with you.”
“what do you mean? we didn’t even watch the movie!”
| masterlist
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leclerc-hs ¡ 5 months ago
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do i wanna know? (pt.2) - cl16
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pairing: brother'sbff!charles x gasly!reader summary: in which you find yourself tangled in a web of emotions with your brother's best friend OR it was never just sex between you and your brother's best friend warnings: 18+, smut under the cut!, badly translated french (prob), angst!!!!, not proofread!! word count: ~2.3k author's note: SURPRISE SHAWTY!!!!!! i am here apologizing for being MIA for so long. if this is SHIT I apologize I just have been struggling with writer's block for months and have been very stressed and busy with work!!! I really tried my best so don't be too mean to me over this lmaooo. I love u all!!! there will be more of them to come ;) also since it's been so long since I've properly written this MIGHT be a little rusty so pls forgive me
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
THE TRANQUIL MELODY of the waves crashing against the shore is truly a captivating sight. You sat by the water in an oversized t-shirt and bikini bottoms, absorbed in the symphony of nature. So engrossed were you in the soothing sounds, the glistening water, and the caress of the breeze, that Charles’s approach caught you off guard.
“There you are,” his voice resonated like the ocean. You sensed the warmth of his presence as he settled beside you on the sand, propped up on his hands.
Though you didn’t turn to face him, you could feel his gaze fixed on your profile.
“Do you think we’re being stupid?” You couldn’t help but ask. 
“Quoi?” What?
“I just don’t want to hurt Pierre.” You finally turned your head to look at him. “Was it a mistake?”
You didn’t think it was. But the more you sat and thought about it, the more stressed over the situation you became. 
“No.”
You smiled softly, pulling your knees up and resting your head upon them as you truly took in the sight of him. 
“I think we should do it again.”
-
The two of you fell into a pattern quickly.
“Such a dirty fucking slut,” Charles groans out loud as he looked at the sight of you on your knees before him. His cock was heavy in your hand as you slowly start to pump him. Pre-cum leaking from the tip, oozing onto your fingertips. It was a gooey mess.
You stare up at him with a smirk on your lips as you take in his flushed cheeks and his pale knuckles from clenching the countertop so tightly.
“Mmm,” You moan as you bring him to your mouth, swirling your tongue around him slowly. You suck lightly before dragging him in and out of your mouth. 
You swore you could look at him for forever and never get tired of it. You were constantly in the depths of convincing yourself it was nothing but sex. 
“So fucking beautiful.”
“Could stare at you all day, mon ange.”
But is it really?
-
You’re not sure when it changed. But it did.
The gentle warmth of the morning sun seeped through the delicate curtains, causing you to let out a soft groan as you slowly awakened. Shifting in the bed, you squint against the bright light, and eventually force yourself to emerge from the cozy embrace of sleep.
As you turn your head, your attention was instantly met by the striking view of a broad, bare, and muscular back dominating your view. Instantly, a swarm of butterflies fill your stomach.
The early sunlight cast a soft glow on his smooth, tanned skin, accentuating the sculpted contours of his muscles. His breathing was steady and calm, a comforting rhythm that contrasted with the crisp morning air. His hair, slightly messy, fell against the nape of his neck.
The gentle upward curve of your lips was almost instinctive as you reached out toward him, running your fingers through the soft wisps of hair at his neck.
He lets out a small grumble as he shifts around, his face nestled in the pillows. Then, he turns to you, his gentle smile already in place before he opened his eyes. His arm drapes over you almost instantly, tugging you into the warmth of his body and immediately peppering soft kisses to your neck.
“Je pourrais rester ici pour toujours.” Could stay right here for forever. He whispers in between the soft kisses.
You feel the blush form on your cheeks almost instantly.
“Me too,” you respond softly.
“Do you think we could?”
The longing to say yes tugged at your heart, but you resisted, knowing the potential complications it could bring. Instead, you laughed, trying to shake off the heavy thoughts about the chaos and challenges that might follow. For now, it was just the two of you. Just two regular people.
No Pierre. No burdens of the outside world.
It’s been weeks of this. Whatever this was between you. You both found yourself too greedy to give it up. The sex was too good. He was too good.
-
Strong fingers intertwine with the strands of your hair, a delicate tug at the roots sends a tingling sensation cascading across your scalp, igniting a fiery yet exquisite sensation that dances on the edge of pleasure and exhilaration. 
“Nous devons faire attention.” We need to be careful. You softly groan as your bare back becomes flush against the contours of his chest, slightly dampened with sweat. The pace of his hips doesn’t falter as he brings his lips to the shell of your ear.
“Pourquoi?” Why? You know he’s teasing you. “Want me to stay hidden, hm?” The one hand that rests against the soft skin of your hips squeezes hard, as if he needed the reminder that you were here and, in his arms, and on his cock. “Ton petit secret sale?” Your dirty little secret?
The words wouldn’t come. Every time you tried to speak, they tangled in your throat, choked by the weight of the situation. You wanted to tell Charles that you didn’t see him that way, that he meant more to you than anyone else. But your brother…his best friend, loomed too large over whatever it was you two were.
You struggled to hide your wince as Charles places a quick but harsh squeeze to your throat. 
“Not even that will shut you up, hm?” He groans in between each thrust. “Pierre is in the room next over. It’s like you want to be caught.”
“Maybe I should just call him in here, hm?” 
You felt yourself pushing back against his thrusts, meeting him in the middle at a feverish pace, needing to remove the ache between your legs.
“Let him see how big of a cock slut you really are.”
You shook your head, soft moans escaping your dampened lips as his arm slips down and presses to your clit.
“No?” He eggs you on. “You’re just my little cockslut, right?”
You nod eagerly, your head lolled back against the crevice of his shoulder and neck for support. 
“Say it.” He demands, his fingers quickening on your clit. “Tell me you’re my little cockslut while you cum all over me.”
“I’m-“ You struggle to get the words out, too caught up in the way his cock slips in and out of you, his fingers rubbing your clit, and the groans escaping past his lips into your ear.
“C’mon mon ange,” He grits. “Make a fucking mess.”
“I’m yours.”
It happened so fast, it was almost a blur as Charles hurriedly pushes you face first into the mattress, hips slamming into you at such a speed, you both went soaring over the edge of your orgasms.
A few quiet minutes passed as you both caught your breath, little laughs and smiles as both of your bodies lie in a tangled mess.
-
“The Gala is coming up,” Charles spoke. His throat burning in anticipation as he waited for you to catch onto what he was implying. He wanted you by his side. Wanted you on his arm. Wanted no one to touch you but him.
“Nous avons déjà discuté de cela.” We’ve discussed this already.
Charles could slowly feel the annoyance building in his chest as he pushed himself up off the bed, dragging his body to the bathroom to retrieve a wet cloth to clean you up. He wasn’t used to this, to say the least. And he wanted you to himself so fucking badly.
It wasn’t until after his finished cleaning you up, that he spoke again. “Combien de temps?” How long?
You sat up, slipping on whatever article of clothing was closest to you. No doubt, one of Charles’ worn t-shirts that draped to your thighs.
You tilted your head to the side just slightly, encouraging him to continue.
“How long will you avoid telling Pierre?”
-
Giving Charles the silent treatment was probably the worst thing you could’ve done to him. But you didn’t know what else to do. 
Your back was turned to him, the burn of his eyes on the nape of your neck had you on high alert. You couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t meet his gaze.
The room felt colder with each passing second, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on you both. You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it impossible to speak. A part of you wanted to turn around, to meet his gaze and to find some way to fix whatever this was. But the fear of what you might see in his eyes—hurt, anger, hunger—kept you frozen in place. Well, as frozen as you could be while dancing with another man.
He was proper cute. Tan skin, chocolate eyes, scruffy hair. His name, however, slipped past your mind. You think it was Rob. Or was his name Ryan? Something with an R. You think.
It didn’t help in the slightest bit that Pierre is the entire reason you’re in this situation to begin with. He practically forced you into the arms of Rob. Or is it Ryan?
“You look beautiful tonight,” The man looked down upon you, a small grin on his face as he twirled you around the dance floor. A small blush crept up on your cheeks.
“Merci.” You thanked him. “How do you know my brother?” You needed to keep the conversation going. Anything to take your mind off the stare burning your skin from afar.
He opened his mouth to begin a response but was instantly interrupted as soon as the voice of another was by your side.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Charles began, but he was clearly anything but sorry. His voice was stoic, void of any emotion but annoyance. “I need a word with you.” And before you could put up any argument, his fingers clasped onto your wrist, dragging you away from the dance floor and out of the ballroom.
Despite your protests for him to slow down, he continued at his unrelenting pace, tagging you along without regard to your inability to keep up. Charles then ushered you, if one could call it that, into what appeared to be a cramped coat closet.
The dim lighting obscured the usual green hue of his eyes, leaving you uncertain whether it really was the poor illumination or his evident anger that caused this change.
“Are you crazy?” You half-shout, waving your arms in the air in frustration once you pull your wrist from his grip. “You just made an absolute scene in there!” 
“I made a scene?” He raises his voice in frustration. Like he can’t believe that you have an issue with his behavior when you were the one dancing with another man. “You might as well just go fuck that guy on the dance floor!” 
He knew he was talking in fits of jealousy, and he knows that it’s wrong. But he couldn’t contain it. Couldn’t help but have an outburst over this situation. You didn’t even look at him the entire night.
“It was one dance!”
“I don’t care if it’s just one. It may as well be five hundred!” He sneered while his fists clenched at his sides. “Je ne partage pas.” I don’t share.
“I can’t do this right now.” You pleaded softly.
“Do what, exactly?”
“This.” You silently begged for him not to continue questioning. To not go there.
“And what is this?” or what he really meant is ‘what are we?’.
You both fell into a silence as the weight of the question weighed down on you both. You didn’t want to reach this point. You both knew what it was, but you weren’t ready for the answer. It was supposed to be fun and just sex. Something Pierre would never need to know about.
Charles took your silence as an answer. But he refused to accept it. He made a small step towards you, his green eyes locked onto yours, to which you retreated one back.
“Please don’t come closer,” You begged with a small quiver of your lip. “I need you to stand a step away from me.” You knew the moment he was closer; you were done for. Your resolve would be over.
“I can’t.” He emphasized. “I can’t stay away. Not from you.” He was distraught. Why didn’t you understand? 
“Charles, please.” Your lip quivered just slightly as your hands fell at your sides, your fingers playing with the fabric of your dress.
“Do you think I want to be like this?” He pushed. “Do you think I want to be thinking about my best friend’s sister 24/7?” He could feel his resolve slipping the longer he stared at you. You were beautiful, one of the easiest people to talk to, and he couldn’t not love you.
It was so quick. One second you both were feet apart, the next his lips were pressed against yours as your hands grabbed onto his biceps pulling him closer to you. The feel of his muscles underneath his suit were prominent against your fingertips as you moaned softly into his mouth.
Both hands enveloped your jawline, sprawling onto your neck in a feverish rush. It was a clash of tongue and teeth, and neither of you wanted to stop.
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lidiasloca ¡ 2 months ago
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Hi! I was wondering if you could write a little Azriel x reader story, where he comes from a mission injured but tries to hide it from everyone (especially from her (reader)) because he doesn't want them to worry. But then things get complicated and she finds out and is so angry at him for trying to hide it. And then she goes into mother hen mode and takes care of him and it's just pure fluff🥺
Thank you🥰
healing azriel's wounds
azriel x reader
⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄☆
“Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask, your words a mix of frustration and worry. 
“I didn’t want you to worry, Y/N. Since we are newly mated, I knew you’d be… well — like this,” Azriel replies, a painful look on his face as you clean up his wound. You rely on the steadiness in your well-practiced hands, but still, no matter how good of a healer you are, you feel unsure every time you get close to his wounded chest. He is your mate, after all.
“Worried for my mate?” you ask, anger flooding into your heart for the way he treats this as nonsense. “This cut is almost bone-deep, Azriel. What were you thinking?” Your voice breaks at the last bit, and Azriel finally seems to worry — maybe not for the wound, but for you.
“I’m sorry,” he breathes as you start stitching the cut. You have to look away from his pained eyes, only focusing on the meticulous movement of your hands. “Really, I—”
“Hush,” you order with a hint of sweetness. “It’s fine. Just… don’t ever do it again.”
“I promise,” he replies, and, at last, you move your eyes to meet his. 
You are still mad at him for putting his life at risk, but still, you are grateful he is, at last, fine. You didn’t tell him often, but it killed you every time he left for a mission. You always worried he might come home with a wound like this. Or maybe he would never return home.
“Please don’t cry,” he pleads with a hoarse voice, trying to sit up now that you’ve finished stitching him.
“Then don’t give me reasons to cry,” you mumble between sobs. Maybe he is right. Maybe being recently mated made you much more vulnerable to things like this.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, reaching out to stroke your cheek.
“Don’t move. The stitches are fresh.”
But he doesn’t seem to care one bit. “Please forgive me, Y/N.”
You watch him for a minute, reading the sorrow and regret in his eyes. “Never again,” you warn in a weak voice.
“Never again. I promise.”
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-Characters by Sarah J Maas
a/n: pls send requests!
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purpleph4se ¡ 3 months ago
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devotion
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armand x reader
warnings | smut, afab!reader, dom armand, fingering, praise, possessiveness, one mention of cheating sorta kinda? (we all know louis and armand’s relationship i mean would u call it cheating if it was open idfk)
a/n | 70s armand save me, save me 70s armand. so i finished iwtv in the span of one week and i can say i forgive armand for all his crimes, he’s just a girl <3 there is such a devastating lack of fics for my botticelli angel im here to mend that !!! i know i made that little post a while ago and i finally finished the fic i hope yall enjoy <3 crossposted on my ao3
part 2 here <3
“show me,”
his voice was a purr loud enough just for you to hear. you sat between his legs, chest pressed against the handsome stranger you met at the bar who managed to lure you into his home. “please yourself for me..” he usually doesn’t play with his food but the sight of your lips hung open, and the sound of your moans, he couldn’t help himself.
mesmerized by his voice, you trail your hand over your clothed sex finding the fabric had been soaked through. you shift to slip them off, a twinge of embarrassment making your face burn. you forced your legs apart, your head lolling back onto armand’s shoulder as your hand glided through your slick cunt.
“just like that, my love, make yourself feel good for me,” he whispered as he traced the curves of your body, stopping right at the dip of your hips. his grip on you was firm, as his lips left warm kisses on your neck. his touch was so precise yet so desperate to feel as much as possible of you.
“pl-please, touch me” you begged between whimpers, your legs were trembling as you could feel pleasure starting to bubble up uncontrollably. it was so overwhelming to feel like he was devouring you with his eyes, and touch. his praises were like fire flowing throughout your body as he consumed every cell of your body.
he hummed at your words, the utter desperation that he could feel seeping out of you made him want to fuck you without restraint, but he denied himself just to torture you.
“just my fingers, nothing more..” armand offered, he felt you tremble in anticipation forcing his hard cock against your lower back. you craved to feel him inside you, and he knew. 
armands breath tickles your ear as he slides two of his fingers over your slit. you squirm a bit as he ghosts just over your clit, his voice mumbling something about you being dripping for him. 
“thank y-you,” whispered again as his fingers slowly traced your skin, until they reached your folds. you were pushed closer to him, so he could effortlessly reach your sopping cunt as he kissed the dip of your shoulder. he could devour you if he chose.
his skin was cold to touch as you laid against him. “so breathtaking” he murmured as his elegant fingers barely touched your clit, your hips buckled to meet him “so sensitive,”
when he finally dipped his finger in you, that’s when his facade cracked. the way your warmth enveloped his finger, swallowing it hungrily and clenching around it, made his breath hitch. if armand concentrated enough he could picture what you would feel around his cock.
your small whine of 'more' causes him to smile against the nape of your neck as he inserts a second finger. he drags them in and out of you, slowly and gently before increasing the power behind them.
his other hand kneaded your chest, he wanted to worship every inch of you. you, kind stranger, distracted him from the boredom that was his life, his partner once again enjoying a young vulnerable boy.
you gasp grabbing onto his forearm feeling your body bounce a little as he did so, he pulled his head back to look down at you— his golden eyes dilating in either love or something sinister, you couldn't tell. "that’s it beloved, taking me so well”, his fingers curling up to search for that particular spot you liked “like you were made for me..” you whined in agreement before letting out a sharp moan, there he thought, abusing that certain spot.
armand pumped his fingers into you relentlessly as his thumb rubbed circles on your clit. for just moment he didn’t care about anything but the way you begged him for more, the way you would tremble in his arms as he added another finger, the way you desperately chased your orgasm. he could feel the desire rushing through your veins.
your hands dragged up his body until the settled hooked behind his head, pulling him closer as you felt a third finger gently split you open. your back arched, your chest hitting his as you felt that coil, that certain feeling in your stomach rise, ready to break.
"'m gonna cum— don't, don't stop, please please." you babbled, to which he listened, telling you to cum that he was right here for you. he pressed his lips against your jaw, the sweet kisses and soft worship a distinct contrast from his onslaught on your poor cunt. and then you heard him, like he was inside your head  “cum for me”, armand invited you to let go of everything, to allow the ecstasy to eat you alive, and you did. ‘cumming', you repeated— his name being slurred as you called out to him, eyes shut tightly.
you were hit by everything all at once, your senses blurred as you could barely control your body. armand’s name was the only thing you whine out through the overwhelming pleasure that took over you. he burned the sight into his brain, warm juices coated his hand as he slowed his movements, still overstimulating you just a bit.
you slumped against his chest, your blissed out state warming his abnormally cold one, he didn’t let go of you. you were out of breath, you stayed like that for a moment before he glanced at his fingers.
your pleasure dripped all over his pads, down to his palm, and he couldn’t help but take a taste of you. he took his time savoring each finger like it was ambrosia.
"messy little thing..let me clean you up."
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gothgoblinbabe ¡ 3 months ago
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Babe, I'm Gonna Leave You
(chapter 1/2)
(Logan Howlett x fem reader)
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A/N: Yeah, the brain rot has reached a maximum and I've completely disregarded the consequences of a digital footprint! there's a couple descriptions of style of clothing/jewelry but you can imagine that as you please, also absolutely based off of "Babe Im Gonna Leave You" by Led Zeppelin bc idk somewhere in my delusions I think Logans a Zeppelin kinda guy and its what I've been listening to. For the sake of the plot, stick with me, you've got an imaginary ex bf and his random name I picked is gonna be Danny and he suuuucks real hard okay? okay and I need you to pretend dear lovely reader that you like led zeppelin if you don't 💔[holding your face ever so gently and smooching ur forehead] and I've seen only xmen origins, x-men, X2, and Deadpool x wolverine so pls pls forgive me if some stuff doesn't canonically fit. This is kind of cringe but I wrote too much of it to get rid of it just bare with me I beg of u and it was so long I had to split it into two parts
Summary: Meeting the infamous Wolverine got you roped into a liiiitle more than what you bargained for
Warnings: swearing, you have telekinesis and telepathy (cause that's cool, c'mon), mild angst, suggestive stuff kinda, mentions of cheating (Logan does not cheat on u I pinkie promise), Logan calls you kid but you're not actually a child lol, you're a good bit younger than him but also so is anyone else who isn't borderline immortal
Word Count: 4K
Pt 2!
[credit for text post dividers here and here]
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There had been muttering here and there between the students at the academy that Wolverine was coming back after a few years on his own, confirmed when Marie recognized the motorcycle now parked in the driveway of the mansion.
"Logan!"
He was immediately wrapped into a hug by Marie at the door, dropping his bags to the floor.
"Hey, kid, miss me?"
"Maybe," she smiled sweetly, tucking the white strands of hair behind her ears.
"Long time no see, huh?" Ororo's voice interrupted from behind her, earning a hug from Logan.
"Any one else around?" he questioned, hoisting his bag up over his shoulder again.
"Scott and Jean are around here somewhere, Charles as well. Oh, and there's a couple new faces you haven't met," she responded, smiling at the way Marie's eyes lit up at the chance to mention what she had been meaning to tell Logan.
Marie gasped and said your name, grabbing Logan's arm in excitement, "you have got to meet her. She joined us a couple of months ago, I think you'll really like her. She's kind of been like...our you, when you've been gone."
He quirked an eyebrow at that, looking between the both of them for an explanation as to what that was supposed to mean.
"You'll see," Ororo chuckled lightly, "oh, you will see."
"She's here now, I think, you should go introduce yourself to her!"
Logan had swiftly caught onto Marie's adorable attempt to play cupid and gave her a nod, "maybe when I settle in, okay, kid?"
She nodded in agreement and both her and Ororo watched him walk off further down the corridor.
"How do you think it will go when they meet?" the later of the two asked earnestly once he was out of sight.
"Well," Marie paused for a moment, thinking, "they'll be inseparable or absolutely hate each other."
Ororo nodded in agreement almost immediately, holding in a small laugh.
Much later in the evening, Logan had been beckoned into the study along with Ororo, Marie, Bobby, you, Jean and Scott by Charles.
He had been the last to enter, eyes immediately settling on your unfamiliar frame stood next to Marie with your back against the wall. You had plenty of rings adorning your fingers and necklaces dangling in front of your chest in the same kind of fashion he'd seen in those magazines with the Harley biker girls. You looked a little like one of them too, in well fitting jeans adorned with a belt, a band shirt and some chunky boots, except you were very much real and not on glossy paper.
"Oh! Logan!" Marie exclaimed upon noticing his arrival, beckoning him over with her hand. That turned your attention to him and he felt like the wind may have been knocked out of him when your eyes met his. You were far prettier than any of the girls he'd seen in any magazine.
"This is her," Marie whispered to Logan when he approached and nudged his arm, referring to when she had told him about you earlier.
"This is Logan," Marie said to you, gesturing towards him and leaning a little closer to you to whisper something he wouldn't catch, "and he's single, by the way."
A grin was plastered on her face when she pulled away and you rolled your eyes, "Marie - "
"I know, I know, too soon, but I just thought that was very good information for you to know," she raised her hands and stepped away a little, still intent on watching how the two of you interact for the first time.
Logan extended a hand for you to shake and you did the same. Your hands were small in his and your skin soft to the touch. It was almost hard for him to drop your grip when he did, nervous that he'd hold it even a second too long.
Nervous. Women had rarely ever made him nervous in the hundred - something years he'd been alive, and yet he could feel his heart pounding in his ears when you ran your hands through your hair to push it out of your face.
"Nice to meet you," he finally spoke, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket.
This may have been a good opportunity to try out your powers a little, concentrate hard enough on the handsome stranger's face to know what exactly was playing out behind his staring gaze, but you resisted the urge to do what you considered a tad bit violating.
"Same here," you responded at last, averting your gaze for just a moment to avoid inadvertently doing exactly what you had just decided you wouldn't.
Marie and Ororo had studied the small interaction between the two of you - of course - waiting for something more to happen, only to be disappointed when the both of you nodded courtly and turned away from each other.
"Well, that's not good. He'd be on her like a dog already - " Ororo started under her breath.
"No, no, I just think..." Marie interrupted, narrowing her eyes between the two of you, "I think they just need to get to know each other."
"Honey..."
"I'm telling you, I just feel like they'd be good together, they just need a chance to get to know each other!"
"Do you really think she's ready to get with another guy?" Ororo nodded her head in your direction, lowering her voice, "after all that stuff Danny pulled?"
Marie grimaced at the mention of one of the professors names, shaking her head in mild disgust, "have you seen him lately? always coming up to her in the halls and stuff, it's sad - for him, I mean."
Before either of them could further debate the topic, Charles gained everyone's attention to discuss a series of tasks he'd assigned to you all. As he spoke, you only tuned in once you heard your name.
"You are the one I'd like to send out to complete that with Daniel."
"Could, uh, can I do it with someone else? or have him do it alone, or something?"
Logan caught the confused look Jean shot your way, tilting her head before she spoke, "You don't want to go with Danny? What happened, I thought the two of you -"
You cut her off with a sharp shake of your head, scowling, "uh-uh. Hell no. He...uh, I'll tell you about it later."
You had realized the sudden vulnerability you'd found yourself experiencing in a room full of eyes on you and cleared your throat, attempting to change the subject.
"I can hang back and keep an eye on the kids, I don't mind."
"They do love you," Ororo chimed in, "and we need someone to stay back to watch them anyway."
"They only like her so much because she allows them to break the rules," Scott remarked, earning a nudge in the arm from Jean.
You sighed, rolling your eyes, "Scott, the thing with the kids in your room was one time and it was an accident - "
"Was it? Because one of them wrote 'asshole' on my bathroom mirror with sharpie."
"They're kids, they do that kind of stuff!"
"was that really one of the kids?"
You tucked your lower lip under your teeth in an attempt to smother a laugh. Logan almost immediately did the same when you darted your eyes around the room in a guilty attempt to avoid eye contact.
"You've gotta be fucking kidding me - " Scott started but Charles interrupted, holding up a hand.
"Alright, the both of you - enough. You," he continued, gesturing towards you, "may stay back with the children. Please do not allow them into anyone's personal quarters and I would advise you to hide the permanent markers for the time being, away from the children and perhaps yourself."
You nodded and hung your head low to hide the reappearing smile across your face. Logan stared inadvertently from then on, watching you twist your rings around your fingers and focusing on you intently when you spoke every now and then. When you were all dismissed by Charles and filed out of the room, you and Marie walked ahead of most of the group, almost out of ear shot.
Logan heard Jean's hushed voice behind him as she leaned into Scott, "so...what do you think happened? With Danny?"
"Who the hell is this Danny guy?" he finally asked, turning over his shoulder to interrogate the two of them.
"Well," Jean whispered your name, looking ahead to be sure you hadn't caught their conversation, "it's her boyfriend. Or was, I guess. They had a thing for awhile but they stopped hanging around each other all the sudden and she can't even stand to hear his name - she hasn't told me what it's about yet."
Logan simply hummed in acknowledgment, turning back ahead and finding his gaze caught on the sway of your hips as you walked.
"Oh no," he heard Ororo huff beside him, almost immediately following her gaze to see a guy he didn't recognize slip behind you and put an arm around your waist. Too far out of ear shot to hear the context, he watched you squirm out of the young mans grip and shake your head as you kept walking.
"Is it bad I want to get closer to hear what they're saying?" Ororo muttered, looking to the other three in her proximity.
"It's not our business," Jean reminded her.
"So, that's him?" Logan asked, gesturing to the guy still on your heels like a puppy.
"uh - huh," Ororo answered, frowning as she watched Danny make another pathetic attempt to put his arm around you.
When the two of you stopped at the far end of the hall and you told Marie it was okay to leave you, Logan, Ororo, Scott and Jean all turned the corner to the closest hallway.
"Oh, I know It's bad but I have got to know what lame excuse he's got this time," Ororo shook her head, stopping just around the corner to eavesdrop.
"Ororo - " Jean sighed, placing a gentle hand on her friend's arm, "come on."
"They're in the hallway! it's not like I'm standing outside a door," she reasoned, hushing them after so that the only voices hard were yours and Danny's.
"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm sorry - "
"Danny, many times do I have to tell you I don't care? Why won't you just leave me be?"
You sounded exasperated, your voice slightly muffled when you rubbed your face with your hands.
"What do you think he did?" Scott chimed in in a hushed town, now fully invested in the dialogue.
Logan was still stood there, though he wasn't too sure why. He could have and should have kept walking - let the three of them do their weird detective work - but instead found himself leaned against the wall with the rest of them.
"I love you, you know that, sweetheart, I - "
"ugh, don't call me that. You gross me the hell out, you know that?"
Both Jean and Ororo made almost the same shocked expression.
"oh, it has to be bad," Jean hissed, frowning at the venom in your tone.
"Tell me you're not still in love with me, you know you can't, we - " Danny's voice began again and yours cut him short with a sense of finality in your tone.
"Danny. I stopped being in love with you the day I walked in on you fucking another other girl."
Jean's hands flew to her mouth to muffle a shocked gasp. Scott stood with his arms crossed, his face in a grimace.
"ooh, that is bad," Ororo whispered just as a door slammed.
Logan furrowed his eyebrows, following everyone else as they continued their path down the hall again. This Danny kid had to be a real idiot.
⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄ * ⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄
Weeks had passed and you shared small talk with Logan every now and then, sometimes making snarky comments here and there - though more often than not together and at Scott's expense. Funnily enough, the ability to piss Scott off so much made Logan like you even more. Maybe Marie was right, you kind of are like him.
You walked alongside him down the corridor one afternoon, intending to fulfill Ororo's request for the both of you to check in on some of the newer students.
"So, do you always do your hair like that?" you raised your eyebrows up at him, eyeing the peaks in his hair.
"Yeah. What, you don't like it?" He grinned, expecting you to make some smart remark about it.
"No, not that," you giggled, "it's like lil' cat ears, it's cute."
He looked down at you quizzically, stopping in his tracks.
"cat ears?"
"mm-hm. You're like a big kitty."
You bit down another giggle, reaching up boldly to touch his hair.
He gently swatted your hand away, still with a small grin on his face.
"Don't call me that."
"Big kitty?"
"Yes."
"Okay, kitty meow - meow."
He narrowed his eyes as you turned to continue walking in an attempt to hide the huge smile plastered on your cheeks that threatened to transform into a rather loud laugh.
"Uh-huh, whatever. You better not let anyone else hear you call me that," he huffed as he caught up to you rather easily.
As you were about to make another retort, your smile dropped at the sight of a familiar and unfriendly face that had come from around a corner.
"Christ," you squeezed your eyes shut in frustration, rubbing your forehead at the sight of your ex-boyfriend.
"Hey," Logan leaned down a little, nudging you gently, "I'm here, you're good. You're fine, don't worry about him. It's just us, alright? Walk past him like you don't even see him."
Though he'd be embarrassed to admit and absolutely deny it if anyone asked, he'd unfortunately (for himself) harbored a crush on you that only took a couple weeks to develop. He hadn't even really gotten the chance to know you yet, though that was precisely why he was glad about moments like these. He wanted to, even if he felt like a school kid with a playground crush.
You had simply nodded at his words, allowing him to place a gentle hand on your upper back to guide you down the hall with him. Even through the layer of a jacket and t-shirt, you could feel the warmth of his hand on you.
Logan remembered that moment in the hall on the first day you'd met, but never pestered you for details about what the hell went on before he got back. He figured when and if you wanted to tell him, that was up to you.
Keeping your eyes straight ahead, it took what felt like years to pass your ex-boyfriend. When you finally did, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, until his voice stopped you in your tracks.
"That's my shirt."
You whipped your head around, feeling Logan slip his arm a little further around you as a protective reflex.
"What?" you furrowed your eyebrows, looking down at your attire. The shirt, a tad oversized and well worn, was so familiar that you had completely forgotten it once did belong to him.
"I want it back," he spoke again, crossing his arms.
"Do you really want it back?"
You were beyond fed up with his pestering at this point, already having decided what may make the message clear.
"Yes."
"Okay. Fine."
You pulled away from Logan and slipped off your jacket, turning around to hand it to him. He gave you a confused look, hesitantly taking it out of your hands. In a matter of seconds, you turned back around and tugged the t-shirt up and over your head, tossing it directly at Danny's chest. You turned back and took your jacket from Logan's hands, zipping it far enough to cover your bra. In the few seconds you had stood facing him, he had done his best to keep his eyes away from your body and failed miserably, looking up after to see the asshole a few feet away already glaring at him.
"What, you're just gonna walk around like that? And what are you doing hanging out with him anyway, don't you know he - "
You groaned at the sound of Danny's voice again, gently tugging Logan by the hand in the opposite direction as you began to walk away, "yap, yap, yap - just shut the fuck up."
Logan couldn't help the smirk plastered across his face as you continued to walk, finally turning a corner. Before you could apologize to him for having to awkwardly stand witness to that, Scott's voice echoed from the stairway above you.
"Hey, Charles is looking for you two. He says he has something he needs you to take care of, he didn't say what."
"Thanks for the specifics, Scott," you replied sarcastically, "but we're supposed to check on - "
"I know," he interrupted, "I got Marie and Bobby to cover you. You're welcome, by the way."
You rolled your eyes and looked back to Logan, dreading what exactly it was Charles wanted from you.
That landed you where you were the next morning, heaving your bags into the back of Logan's truck.
"If we have to take the truck like two states over, can I at least drive?"
The plane being needed for another assignment that Jean, Scott and Ororo were assigned left the two of you with Logan's truck. You'd been asked to retrieve a rare mechanical piece needed for the construction of some new device; you'd only been half-listening when Charles started to explain the details, lost in thought after he'd mentioned it would require the two of you to sleep out overnight.
Man, that had made your chest feel tight. It had been almost physically painful trying to swallow down every tell that you really liked him for the past few weeks and now you had no choice than to be each others only company for nearly 2 days.
"Yeah, in your dreams, kid," Logan scoffed playfully and brought you back to reality, dangling the keys in his hand.
You narrowed your eyes at the keyring he began to spin around his finger. In a split second, the jangle of the metal could be heard as you snatched them from his hand with only a focused thought.
You caught them in your raised palm and tilted your head, a terribly smug smile across your cheeks.
"Looks like my dreams came true, huh?" you teased, walking past a still mildly distraught Logan to get into the drivers side.
"If you dent it, I'll kill ya," he warned as he finally slid into the passenger seat, watching your every move as you started the engine and carefully reversed out of the garage.
"Uh-huh, sure," you retorted sarcastically, "I'm terrified of the kitty claws."
"What did I say about calling me that?"
"Calling you what?" you feigned ignorance, fumbling with the knob on the stereo to change the station as your eyes stayed glued to the road.
"And don't mess with everything, kid, you'll end up breaking something. She's on old girl, you gotta - "
"Dude," you interrupted, simultaneously cranking down your window and fishing a pair of sunglasses out of his center console, "I know how to drive, chill out."
"Dude," he mocked, "this truck is probably almost as old as you, you gotta be careful."
You rolled your eyes under the shades of the worn aviators you had slipped onto your nose, simply nodding and continuing to flip through stations.
"Pick one and stick with it, will you?"
"Ooh, is someone mad I got the keys?"
Before he could say something in response, you gasped at sound of the song playing on the station you had just switched to, twisting the knob almost as far as it could go.
Logan recognized the familiar thump of "babe I'm gonna leave you" by Led Zeppelin, furrowing his eyebrows when you began to nod your head and sing along.
"You like Led Zeppelin?" he nearly had to shout over the music, leaning in to you a little further.
"Yeah," you responded, reaching over to turn the music down just enough for you to hear each other and glancing at him momentarily, "How come you're looking at me like that?"
He unfurrowed his eyebrows and shrugged, keeping his gaze on the road ahead as he spoke, " just never pegged you for a Zeppelin kind of girl, I guess."
"No? What's that supposed to mean?"
You were smiling again and it was excruciatingly difficult for him not to stare when you looked so good in the spot he usually sat with his old sunglasses on.
"Didn't think you had good taste in music."
That made you giggle and you shook your head, turning the stereo back up to a booming volume.
He watched you tap your fingers on the steering wheel to the drums as you continued to drive, occasionally moving to push your windswept hair out of your face. The morning sun shining through your open window highlighted your features perfectly and Logan sighed without a thought, unheard over the music. Jesus, he had it bad.
You could feel his stare in your peripheral vision every time he looked to you and it felt far warmer than the sun beating down on you from the opposite direction. You truly rarely ever used your developing skill of telepathy, feeling it was only justified when absolutely necessary to obtain information, but his burning gaze nearly had you veering off the road at times and his prior answer to the question of why he was looking at you that way wasn't too convincing.
With a deep breath, already wondering if it was a mistake, you kept your eyes focused to the road but gradually concentrated on the man beside you. Sometimes people's thoughts would appear as inner dialogue, other times as imagined scenarios, daydreams or visuals. You were confused, then, when you only saw an image of yourself as you were now. If you concentrated too hard, your own thoughts would transfer to Logan's mind and it would be humiliatingly obvious that you had been poking around in his consciousness and so you tried to clear your mind and try again, assuming your own mind was too preoccupied with yourself to concentrate properly.
Still, you could only see the image of yourself driving from the perspective of the passengers seat, one hand on the wheel and the other in your hair as you propped your elbow on the door. This time, though, you could hear the accompanying echo of Logan's voice over the hum of the music you had tuned out.
Is her hair always like that? I like it that way. Pretty.
You swallowed hard, fidgeting with the hair that was between your fingers. It's a compliment - innocent enough, and undeniably kind of sweet. You felt guilty then for probing his thoughts and nearly shook yourself out of it, only to realize the image in Logan's mind was no longer of just your profile. He was thinking about your legs, thighs squished against the seat of the truck.
Fuck
You nearly choked on your own saliva, clearing your throat at the echo of his voice again and immediately withdrawing yourself from his mind.
"You okay?" Logan spoke aloud, putting a gentle hand on your upper arm.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," you lied, trying with every fiber of your being to just keep all focus on the road. You knew you shouldn't have done that. It was just a thought, though, nothing said aloud to change anything between the two of you, and so you pretended the best you could that you hadn't heard or seen a thing.
About eight hours, a handful of dad rock albums and a stop to switch seats later, you finally pulled into the parking lot of the nearest motel you had found didn't have a highlighted "no vacancy" sign.
"If there's fucking bed bugs in here, I will never let you hear the end of it," you warned from the passenger seat.
"I think you'd talk my ear off till the day I die anyway," he scoffed, shifting the truck into park and pulling the keys from the ignition.
"You won't die for another hundred-something years."
"Exactly my point, honey."
You rolled your eyes and slipped out of the truck as he did, pretending the nickname hadn't made your face burn. You both grabbed your belongings and once inside you looked around the small lobby as Logan checked you in, impressed with how surprisingly clean the place seemed to be.
"Hey, is that okay?"
Logan's voice took your attention from the painting on the wall you'd been inspecting and you raised your eyebrows.
"Huh?
"Uh, there's a room left but it's only got one bed."
Your face dropped and you looked between him and the poor kid behind the counter who already looked nervous as all hell.
"You're kidding."
"We can keep driving, but we've already been on the road all day and I don't think there's another place around here for a good few miles."
He was much more calm than you expected him to be and you exhaled, thinking of the literal pain in the ass caused by sitting in the car for so many hours.
"Ugh, fine."
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A/N: I had to split this in two because it was so long but If anyone likes this at all I will post da other part cause I like spewing my brain rot on the internet <3
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cherry-pop-elf ¡ 6 months ago
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Snuggle Company
Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley
Can be read as platonic ((because platonic love is valid!))
Summary: Umbridge has been giving everyone nightmares. You especially, given she is well aware how close you are to the twins. Has you paranoid she will hurt you in your sleep. So, who better to keep you safe than the twins themselves?
Warnings: Anxiety, Umbridge, stress, sleepy snuggles, and it’s very short 😣 Going through ALOT right now. Pls forgive me
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Here you were again. Standing just outside the dorm doors that belonged to the seventh year boys. A pair of boys would be in there that you needed. Needed badly, because you had yet another nightmare. A nightmare about her.
You worried they would be getting annoyed by this. By you waking them up again, just to climb into bed with them. Would it be better that you just straight up moved in there with them? Would the other students in their dorm be annoyed by your presence? This wasn’t your assigned bedroom after all.
You tried to power through those worrying thoughts, as you pushed the door open. You were too scared of Umbridge to give a care about what others thought. She hated you. Hated you because those twins liked you. You were the enemy by association.
You would tip toe across the room, and would hug yourself tighter. Just worried about being a burden, and a bother. Something she would often say you were. Just attacking your insecurities. She was good at that. She was good at making people hurt. Oh she was damn good at hurting people, and getting away with it.
Finally, you reached the familiar bed. Fred’s bed. Well, Fred and George’s bed. They never really out grew sharing a bed. George’s ended up being a make shift work shop table for their inventions. You found it utterly adorable how they would hold each other. They had a special bond. Magic tended to play a heavy role in that, but you still found it sweet. How that no matter how old they get they would still make sure to be there for each other. No matter what. Was comforting to see that guys don’t always worry about masculinity.
“Psst….Guys-“ You gently shook George’s shoulder, as you tried to wake them up. Didn’t want to wake the other students up, but you also didn’t want to just climb into bed either. Could startle them. Or worse. They didn’t want you to, and you invaded their personal bubble. Consent is important after all.
“Hm-?” George would rub at his eyes, while Fred yawned. They were annoyed as hell, until they saw it was you who bothered them. George gave a comforting smile, before scooting away from his twin. Fred, in turn, lifted the blanket up. You gave a sigh in relief, before climbing between them. Snuggled safely between them both.
“Thanks.” You whispered, as they would wrap their arms around you. A tangled of limbs, just like that. Was so warm. So warm, and safe. No one could get to you now. Safe between a pair of tricksters. Just like that. The smell of fire crackers, and cinnamon. That was such a comforting scent to you. Baked goods, and fire.
“No pink toads will get you-“ “Not on our watch.” The twins would tease you, as they gave you a tight squeeze. A reminder that they weren’t going anywhere. Not without you, at the very least. That had you smile, and feel a weight lift off your body. Safe. Safe again.
“We’ve got plans for her. Don’t worry.” George would reassure you, as he would nuzzle into the back of your neck. Enjoying the warmth you gave him, as his arm reached over to keep physical touch with Fred. The two most important people he has, right in his arms.
“And it’s going to be utterly spectacular. Just you wait and see.” Fred would echo, as he rested his head on yours. Forcing your nose into his neck, as his arm did the same thing. Keeping George close, as you were all safely hidden under the blanket.
“Promise.” They would share, as you were already drifting to sleep. Safe in their strong arms, and knowing you’ll be safe by morning all the same. No scary toads to haunt your dreams. Just a pair of pranksters to defend you. No matter what.
Safe snuggles. What a dream come true.
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star-girl69 ¡ 5 months ago
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If You Lie Down With Me
Caroline (KK) Harvey x Fem!Reader
—-
synopsis: away game shenanigans
a/n: guys have i mentioned that i’m a genius… from this ask!! i hope you all enjoy!! this is like literally so bad i cant 😭😭
If You Lie Down With Me - Lana Del Rey
warnings: I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT COLLEGE OR HOCKEY, pls forgive me for inaccuracies 😞, texting again, phone calls blah blah, but some people might hate that so here is your warning, swearing and the usual, like mentions of kissing and some suggestiveness, cringey tik tok prank idc i think it’s cute, mentions of violence and black eyes, lmk if i missed anything!!
—-
Someone’s on top of you.
It’s early in the morning, so early that you would probably be insane to call it morning. The darkness presses around you physically, keeping your eyes shut even as an alarm you barely noticed before comes into focus- blaring loudly.
“I don’t want to go,” someone moans.
Is someone on top of you? Or is that just blankets? Or maybe it’s a physical manifestation of your exhaustion.
You open your eyes, feeling like you might actually die with just that little motion, trying to roll around and stretch- but you can’t. Yes. Someone is definitely on top you.
KK? You try to ask, but you’re so tired that the only thing that comes out is a garbled “K.”
“I don’t want to go,” your girlfriend repeats, pushing her face into your neck and wrapping her arms around your body.
Your eyes drift shut for another second, the alarm fading into the background. It takes another minute, in which KK falls back asleep on top of you, for you to fully wake up and for your brain to start working. You reach out towards the bedside table, fumbling with KK’s phone until you can finally see the alarm, the time of 4:30 A.M., and the name of the alarm-
flight at 7 wake up
“Fuck,” you gasp, trying to push your girlfriend off of you. She pouts and hugs you tighter, and all of that hockey muscle is simply dead weight when she’s asleep. “KK. KK, get up, I’m serious.”
It takes a few hard shakes, but she finally wakes up, adorable pout still stuck on her face.
“What the fuck could possibly be going on?” She groans.
“You have a game, KK. Get off of me.”
She reluctantly rolls off of you, quickly shuffling around. You would be stupid to think she’s actually getting up, so it’s no surprise when she simply presses her face into your neck and wraps her arm around your waist.
“Fuck the stupid fucking game.”
Why on God’s green earth did you agree to sleep over?
You wouldn’t call Caroline overly clingy, although her main love language is probably touch, she’s more into the little things. Hand holding, your feet in her lap when you’re sitting on the couch, arm around your waist in public- laying completely on top of you when you’re sleeping.
She’s always at her worst the day before away games, forcing you to sleep over and smiling so sweetly when she asks you can’t even think about saying no. She spends the entire night with you wrapped up in her arms, trying to soak in as much time with you as she can.
It’s horribly early on Thursday morning, and she won’t be coming back until Sunday night.
And you don’t blame her. Away games are hard, but it comes with the territory of dating a D1 athlete. She was so sweet about it when you first started seeing each other, claiming she understood if it was a dealbreaker but you knew you were too far in to say no.
You thought you could handle it, just a few nights away from her, but just doing every daily task knowing that she’s so far away from you just makes everything feel wrong. And when there’s a time difference, she’s often not just a phone call away.
Caroline, when she’s away, takes it upon herself to text and call you so much it sometimes feels like she’s never really left, until you’re on FaceTime with her at the end of the night and the sound of her voice is almost enough to make you cry, because she’s almost there with you- but not really.
She kisses the side of your neck, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.
You’re going to miss her so bad. But it’s hard to remember that you’re going to miss her when you have to deal with her perpetually late self.
“Can you turn off that alarm?” Oh. You forgot to turn it off.
“KK,” you sigh. She frowns against your neck. “Get. Up.”
“Noooooo, Y/N, please. Five more minutes-”
Someone bangs loudly on the door. “Turn it off and get up!”
That grumpy voice can only belong to Laila.
They’re normally very happy people, you try to convince yourself. And normally you aren’t this cranky either- but it’s so early. And you would be lying if you said you weren’t going to miss KK too.
You slowly reach out and hit snooze on the alarm.
The blaring blessedly stops, and KK smiles and pulls you even closer to her. “Five more minutes.”
“I’m going back to sleep,” you mumble.
KK’s hand slowly runs down the side of your waist until she reaches the hem of your shirt, slipping her hand under it so her warm hand is pressed up right against your skin. You shiver a bit at the feeling, and she still hasn’t wiped that satisfied smile off of her face- you can feel it against your neck.
“Okay, baby,” she mumbles back, thumb rubbing back and forth against your skin.
She’s going to be late again, you resign. She’s going to make Laila late, and then you’ll have to listen about how bitter Laila is until they make up, and then until KK eventually makes her late again- it’s a vicious cycle.
“I’m gonna miss you,” she whispers. Fuck.
Now you miss her. You miss this slow moment already, and you haven’t even left it.
“I’m gonna miss you too. I hate away games.”
“I know,” she hums, pressing another kiss against your bare shoulder. “I hate ‘em too.”
“You gotta get up, seriously,” you say. Even if you dragged her out of bed right now, all of you know that KK is probably still going to be late, and Laila by extension. “You’re gonna get in trouble if you’re late again, babe.”
“Okay?” She scoffs. “Worth it.”
“No, actually, not worth it.”
You open your eyes at the new voice, too tired to question how the hell Lalia has silently appeared in front of you.
She pulls the blanket off KK, and you, causing you to gasp and shoot her a glare. She shoots one right back, before animatedly fake gagging at the sight of KK’s hand under your shirt and the fact she’s actively trying to burrow under your skin.
“Laila,” KK groans. You almost laugh at how much moaning and groaning there’s been this morning. “I’m saying goodbye.”
Lalia rolls her eyes before smiling wide, completely fake, sleep evident on her face. “Bye, Y/N! I love you so much, you’re the best girlfriend ever! I’m going to be so, so miserable without you and your lips and your attention-”
“I do not sound like that,” KK huffs.
“Oh, you do. Anyways, goodbye, Y/N. See? I just did it- not hard at all.”
“Y/N,” KK says.
“You do kinda sound like that,” you shrug.
“Both of you are assholes,” she says, finally letting go of you and sitting up. “I’m getting up, okay?”
Lalia stares at her expectantly, waiting for KK to actually get up.
You laugh as she mutters something under her breath, again being all pouty, probably cursing you and Laila out.
“Goodbye, my wonderful, very talented hockey players,” you sigh, waving before pulling the sheets back around you again. “Good luck!”
“Bye, Y/N!” Laila says, seemingly much more happy now that KK is at least out of bed.
KK smiles down at you before pulling the blanket over you, tucking it around you as she leans down and quickly kisses you.
“Goodnight, baby,” she whispers.
“Good morning,” you whisper back, unable to help yourself from wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her down into another kiss. When you pull away, you smile at her, feeling so in love that annoying as being away from her is, you wouldn’t trade it for anything. “Good luck, babe. Although you don’t really need it.”
You softly squeeze her bicep, knowing a good stroke of her ego is probably the best going away present you could give her.
“Call you tonight?” She whispers, not even gone yet but already planning the next time she can talk to you.
“Obviously.”
—-
hockey queen: r u alive
you: surprisingly yes
you: life is colorless without u and i can taste sounds
hockey queen: really bc i can hear tastes
hockey queen: anyways our flight landed
you: thank god. i was terrified
hockey queen: haha. u love me
you: 🧐
hockey queen: i hate u ttyl
you: ☹️
you: ☹️
you: ☹️
you: ☹️
you: it’s been 10 mins… no answer… might die
you: ☹️
you: ☹️
hockey queen: i’m not responding to people who don’t love me and don’t care about my safety
you: ily and i care about ur safety
hockey queen: and suddenly i don’t hate u anymore
—-
hockey queen: just got back to hotel
hockey queen: practice was hell
hockey queen: pls can i call u now
hockey queen: pls y/n
hockey queen: y/n
you: one sec sorry almost done w hw
hockey queen: ok cool idc
Incoming call from: hockey queen
Call Declined
you: I SAID ONE SEC
Incoming call from: hockey queen
Call Declined
you: omg i’m so serious i’ll block u
Incoming call from: hockey queen
Call Accepted
“You are literally the most annoying person I have ever met in my entire life.”
You prop up the phone against the lamp on your desk, seeing a flash of your girlfriend’s face in an otherwise dark hotel room.
“You know you love me.”
You resist the urge to say something mean back, remembering earlier today when she had ignored you for entire 10 minutes, despite your persistent sad emojis, she’ll probably be petty and hang up on you.
And you want to hear her voice.
“Yes,” you say through gritted teeth. “I love you!”
“Aw, just what I wanna hear.”
Finally, you look at the screen, seeing KK smiling widely at you, and your stomach does an embarrassing flip. That fucking smile.
You smile back, feeling heat rise to your cheeks with the way she stares at you adoringly.
“The plane ride was really pretty this morning, with the sun rise. You would have liked it a lot.”
“And to think, at the same time I was probably looking at your ceiling.”
She hums suggestively, and you roll your eyes.
“Fuckin’ freak. Ok, I’m done,” you sigh, finally setting your pen down and stretching your hand out.
You sigh, grabbing your phone as you stand up, stretching and not caring about what unattractive angle your phone is currently catching you in. You flip the lights off and climb into bed, thankful your roommate had decided that tonight she was taking an everything shower and would probably be gone for a long time.
“How was your day?” KK asks as you get into bed, holding the phone a foot in front of your face against the bed as you lay on your side.
“Hm, it was okay. Kinda boring, really.”
“Cause I wasn’t there?”
“…Yeah, sure.”
KK frowns. “You’re actually so fuckin’ mean to me. Laila too. I don’t deserve this, for real.”
“I’m teasinggggg,” you smile. “I love you. My life is miserable without you. I can barely function without you. I miss you so much it’s consuming me. I-”
“Babe, shut up.”
“So you don’t love me?”
“I love you,” she scoffs. “My roomie’s gonna be back soon, though. And I’m exhausted, sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you reassure. “I just wanted to hear your voice for just a little bit. I’m tired too.”
“I miss you,” KK says, dropping her voice to a whisper, making it sound like she’s admitting a deep dark secret.
You could tease her about how it hasn’t even been a day. But you miss her too.
“I know. I miss you, too.”
You stare at her through the screen, watching as she smiles sleepily at you, eyes drooping.
“You’re so pretty,” she says after a second.
“Maybe try telling me that when your eyes are actually open, babe.”
“Don’t need it see you to know how beautiful you are. I can feel it through the phone.” Now, her eyes are fully shut and if you were there with her, you could imagine hearing her breathing even out if your head was pressed against her chest.
“Goodnight,” you smile. “I love you. So much, baby.”
Your heart sometimes feels like it’s literally going to burst. Maybe you have an unknown heart condition, but knowing that KK loves you, the way she shows it, and just… KK. How beautiful she is. How she makes you feel and how you make her feel. Her loving you and you loving her feels so impossibly perfect. So good, so right. The feelings you get when you’re with her don’t even have words in the English language.
You feel everything with her, happy and sad and whatever- but under all of it there’s this layer of belonging, of calmness. You belong with her, to her, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
You stare at the screen with a smile, that same smile slowly fading when she doesn’t answer.
“KK?”
Silence.
“Caroline. Caroline. You didn’t say I love you.”
Her sleeping face is beautiful, but you just want to hear her say goodnight and that she loves you back.
“Okay, fine. Whatever. Wait until tomorrow.”
—-
Call ended by: hockey queen
hockey queen: it was so amazing to wake up to ur drooling face on my screen this morning. felt like i was right there with you
hockey queen: we have a workout super early today but text me when u wake up pls
—-
you: super busy all day but i’ll text later
you: also i don’t drool
hockey queen: what r u doing on a friday without me
you: i have friends and school yk
hockey queen: ok be safe and call me later i miss ur face
you: look at a picture then??
hockey queen: i am rn but it’s not the same
you: u r actually so clingy when u go away it might fr be a medical problem
hockey queen: ur fault bc ur so hot 😫
you: thanks…
hockey queen: you’re welcome ❤️
When you finally get home after a busy day of lying to KK that you were out doing something, your friend in your first class had actually helped you come up with a good plan to get back at her.
You had actually forgotten about the fact she didn’t say goodnight or I love you when you woke up, but when you saw that she didn’t even say an actual “good morning” to you… would it really hurt anyone to do a harmless Tik Tok prank?
It would probably scare the shit out of Caroline, which is exactly what she deserved.
You put on your best pouty face, taking a picture with the filter on. It actually was a pretty convincing black eye.
You had kinda failed by letting yourself text her back like everything was normal, but the element of surprise was probably a good thing.
you: *picture*
you: 🤕
hockey queen: what the actual fuck
hockey queen: r u ok???
hockey queen: wtf who did this to you
hockey queen: y/n r u ok
hockey queen: text me
hockey queen: y/n
hockey queen: what the fuck happened
One missed call from: hockey queen
Two missed calls from: hockey queen
hockey queen: y/n i’m so serious answer ur phone
hockey queen: u can’t send that and then not answer
Three missed calls from: hockey queen
you: *picture without filter*
hockey queen: what
you: i’m sorry it was so funny 😂😂
hockey queen: r u serious
hockey queen: i actually hate u
hockey queen: i was so scared
you: ik it was so fucking funny i’m still laughing 😂
hockey queen: i’m blocking u don’t talk to me
hockey queen: why did u do this fr
hockey queen: i don’t deserve this
you: u forgot to say goodnight last night
you: and didn’t say good morning either
you: karma 🤷‍♀️
hockey queen: r u serious
you: deadly
hockey queen: and i’m the clingy one?? ur lucky i love u
hockey queen: ok i have to go get ready for the game but i’m calling you later just to say goodnight
hockey queen: i think u gave me a heart attack
you: aw ur so sweet 🥹
you: ok srsly goodbye ily ur gonna do amazing good luck 😘
hockey queen: thank you baby
hockey queen: ilyt
hockey queen: goodbye
hockey queen: ok make sure you see that goodbye my heart can’t take another stupid prank
you: yes ma’am i see it and no more pranks 🫡 maybe
—-
hockey queen: go to my place
you: huh
hockey queen: flight gets in at 11 ur gonna sleepover
you: so when did i agree to this
hockey queen: when i asked u to be my gf and u said yes look over ur contract
you: oh silly me i see it right here
you: “due to caroline’s excessive clinginess and obsessive tendencies, she reserves the right to force y/n to sleepover at any time”
hockey queen: 🙏
hockey queen: just go hang out at my place u can order dinner and i’ll pay
you: awww how sweet
hockey queen: i love my gf 🔥
—-
You wake up to the feeling of someone cupping your face, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. The feeling of someone hovering over you.
“Wha?” You mumble, stretching, opening your eyes into the darkness but seeing nothing. You eyes slowly start to adjust, but they don’t need to.
“Sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Caroline whispers. She smooths your hair back, and your eyes drift shut again at the calming motion. “Go back to sleep, okay? I’ll be back in a minute.”
“KK?” you ask into the darkness, mind foggy.
“Yeah, baby?”
“I missed you.”
She laughs a bit before kissing the top of your head, hand drifting down to cup your cheek again. “I know.”
You unknowingly latch onto her wrist, holding her hand in place against your face. “Come to bed,” you mutter. “I missed you.”
She softly detangles herself from you, and you feel like a child about to throw a tantrum. “One second, okay, baby? I still gotta get ready for bed, I just wanted to see you.”
You groan but let go, the darkness of her room pressing around you similarly to the morning when she left. Your mind drifts back to that, to how good it felt to wake up next to her, how utterly right. You think about how mean you’ve been to her since she left, using sarcasm to cover up the way your heart literally beats crookedly when she’s away from you.
Wow, maybe you’re the clingy one.
You think about the sound of her voice on FaceTime as she’s falling asleep, and you think about how good it will feel now right in your ear. You think about your empty bed back in your dorm, sleeping lonely even in her shirts that smell like her.
You roll over onto your stomach, blankets sliding off of you as the sound of the sink running in the bathroom makes you so fucking impatient.
“K,” you groan, deciding she’s taking too long.
“Calm down,” she whispers, voice very amused, and it feels so right when you suddenly feel the covers pull back and someone slip in next to you. She runs her hand along your upper back where her last name is printed on. “You look so sexy in my shirt.”
“Thanks,” you mutter, already half asleep again and shifting around as her arms slide around you, pressing yourself back up against her. Too tired to flip back around but still needed to be touching her as much as possible.
“Was your dinner good?” She asks, kissing your neck.
“Yeah,” you yawn. “Thank you for paying, babe.”
“Mhm,” she hums, squeezing the arm wrapped around your waist. “Come closer.”
“I am closer.”
“Fine,” she mumbles, yawning herself as she settles against you. You can hear the smile in her voice when she speaks. “Goodnight, Y/N,” she enunciates.
You almost laugh at how petty it seems to prank her for not saying goodnight.
“Goodnight, Caroline,” you say back.
Maybe you’re both just really annoying and really clingy, but when you’re wrapped around each other like this, and everything feels so perfect that you can’t even imagine her ever being away from you ever again, pieces of her always carried in your heart, you can’t be bothered.
Maybe you’ll regret this in the morning, though, when KK doesn’t let you leave her bed until noon.
—-
451 notes ¡ View notes
heartpascal ¡ 2 years ago
Note
Pls tell me there's a part two for "if the door wasn't shut". I need Joel and Ellie to come back and reader avoiding them and not speaking to them and just walking away when they try to talk to her. Ofc happy ending but make them work for that forgiveness
i would let you in
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▹ — joel miller x platonic!f!reader
▹ — summary: part two of if the door wasnt shut — after being abandoned in jackson, tommy and maria take care of you. joel and ellie’s return hurts far more than their departure.
▹ — a/n: i have no idea how the timeline is gonna work out in the show so ignore that!!! i went off on a bit of a tangent in this one… oops. anyways. let me know if you guys do want a part three!!!
▹ — warnings: angst!!!! AND MORE ANGST!!! oh yeah and a bit of angst too. father figure joel (except he’s failed that role for reader), arguments, throwing of objects, general hopeless feelings, sadness, not proofread, also you WILL like pottery and ceramics sorry!! almost father figure tommy….
▹ — tags: @faceache111 @viknowsbest @inkiqayo @wrcn9fvlcver @pedropascalsrealgf @httpjiikook @issybee0611 @liableperfections @dksjskx @canpillowscry @beeblisss @lizzylynch1 @randomstory56 @hiphopdancer101universe (once again just tagged everyone who asked for pt 2! pls let me know if you want the tag removed&lt;;3)
masterlist | PART THREE
howl’s song associations!
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
Everything in this world felt empty. It all felt so… weightless. Like you could pick something up, and it would have no meaning. Sometimes, you felt that way, too.
You couldn’t help it.
It was like everything you felt had drained from your very being, leaving your deflated and aching and empty.
But the emptiness sometimes masked as rage, and then you were throwing all of these meaningless things at meaningless walls, sick to death of hearing yourself yell about things that didn’t matter, that held no weight.
It didn’t matter what it was, it just gave you the shortest reprieve of feeling something, of feeling angry. It burned hot in your veins, and for a moment, you were full of fire. Until your oxygen ran out, and the fire spluttered before it died away, leaving you panting and exhausted and empty once more.
You knew it concerned Maria. Knew that she didn’t need this, the stress of having some kid that lacked the ability to even feel remorseful for breaking the plate that she had only just given you. She should’ve been focusing on the impending arrival of her actual kid, not feeling responsible for the one her brother-in-law had practically dumped on her doorstep.
But you didn’t ask for this either, did you?
Even when you had tried to leave, tried to get a horse out of its stall in the stable, tried to follow the only people you believed you could trust, you couldn’t.
You just about remember the way Tommy had pulled you back from where you had been frantic, trying to untie the horse in a frenzy as your chest heaved, the abandonment trying to deep into your bones. You had coughed and gasped, doing everything you could to try and get this feeling out of you, but nothing had worked.
Then, you had woken up on Tommy and Maria’s couch, the two of them beginning to doze off as the night crept up on them. It had been Maria who had jolted awake first, even when you just rustled the blanket they’d placed over you.
You didn’t want her pity then, had outright refused it. The two adults had tried to comfort you, but you had made it so difficult — because why should you make it easy? Your trust had been burnt up, your tether had reached its end, and you felt… hopeless.
There was nobody left for you in this world — and you wouldn’t let Maria or Tommy try to change that, even with their consistent attempts at being there for you.
They had relented to letting you remain in the house across the road, despite wanting you to remain in their home. They brought over meals every day, whether it be from the pub in town, or from their own kitchen.
Luckily for you, they hadn’t mentioned the cuts to your hand, the ones you had gotten from scraping up shards of ceramic off of the floor, after yet another one of your meltdowns. Sometimes, the only way you could actually feel that anger, was to let it out. And considering they hadn’t given you any of your weapons back, throwing plates and bowls and cups against all available surfaces had to suffice.
It had been weeks — you were sure of it. As much as you tried not to take count, the absence of the only people you had left made the days and nights pass slowly, so slowly that it was just a matter of how many days had you been throwing things? Or how many nights had remained restless?
It was on the twenty-sixth day that Maria had enough, seeing the remains of yet another plate in the garbage around the back of your house.
“Okay, if you’re gonna keep breaking these, you’re gonna have to start replacing them.” Maria told you, voice sterner than it had been in a long time. She’d tried the gentle approach, tried being soft, tried letting you heal in your own way, but it didn’t seem to be working. So strict Maria it would have to be. “Come with me.”
You followed her, with some reluctance, but you knew you didn’t have much of a choice. After all, as much as you hated to admit it, you relied on her. Without her, you were screwed.
So, you shrugged on your coat, and followed her as the snow crunched underneath your boots. She took turns so quickly, with so little hesitation, that you were almost surprised. You’d been in Jackson for a few weeks, and this didn’t feel familiar to you.
She tugged open a shop door, coughing away the dust that shot up at her, and felt the wall for a light switch, humming in victory when the store lit up.
You looked around, confused. You didn’t have money to buy new plates… and this place looked empty. You turned to Maria, watching as she wiped the dust off of a circular… machine?
“Well, it’s not the cleanest,” She acknowledged, “But there’s some supplies left out back, and the boys know where to get more clay.”
“Clay? What— Maria, what is this place?” You asked, running your finger against the dusty grooves of a wooden table, feeling bumps of dried something, and leaning forward to inspect the tools that had been abandoned on the table.
“Old ceramics shop,” She told you, opening the door to the back section of the shop and opening a window to let the air breathe. “Hasn’t been a big priority, really. Came in to get some plates when some of the houses had none, but nobody’s been all to bothered ‘bout fixing it up.”
“So, why am I here?” You raised your eyebrows, starting to get annoyed.
“Because, you’re gonna fix it up. If you’re gonna keep breaking all my damn plates, you’re gonna have to replace ‘em.” Maria replied, opening the windows at the front of the shop, and twisting the sign on the door from open, to closed.
“I… I don’t know shit about making plates.” You offered up quietly, fingers picking at your nails as you tried to get out of this. You did feel… almost guilty, about her plates, but at the same time, it was all you could do.
“Well, no better time to learn. Got some books around here, that’ll help, I’m sure. You can figure this out.” Maria said, your name falling softly from her lips, and you missed the other thing she was doing, which would be giving you something to do, giving you a purpose.
You huffed, feeling something nervous brewing in your stomach, but nodded at Maria before she left. You looked around the shop, eyebrows creasing as you realised you had a lot of work to do.
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
Tommy’s face was a sight, the first time he walked into the old ceramics shop.
When Maria had come to him, nearing tears in her excitement, telling him that you had finally done the ceramics shop some good, he hadn’t known exactly what to expect. He was well aware how much time you spent in that old place, and he had scolded you over it numerous times, saying the dust would do you no favours… or whatever.
The two of them knew that really, the ceramics shop had done you some good, but Tommy didn’t quite realise how much effort you had really put into it. Sure, it had been more than a few weeks now, but you were on your own in fixing it up.
So when you opened the door, something so close to a smile on your face, he was surprised. Shocked, even.
The surfaces were clean, for a start, which was nothing short of a miracle in his eyes. The furniture had been put back into place, not counting the pile of rotted wood that was outside, unsalvageable. Old ceramic work had been cleaned and put on display, alongside two names — the artists who made them, Tommy realised quickly.
And then there were the plates sat on the counter. New, slightly misshapen, and there was a box next to them, already filled with old newspaper.
“To replace the ones I broke.” You told him, when he looked at you, eyebrows furrowed. Tommy couldn’t help the smile that grew on him, something proud in his chest.
He hadn’t known you for nearly as long as Joel had, but god, he could recognise it in you immediately. The resemblance to his niece, just barely peeking out when you didn’t bury that part of you. He could see why Joel had gotten so… attached. Even if you didn’t resemble Sarah within your mannerisms in a way that was uncanny, you were a good kid.
Despite all the plate-throwing, name-calling, yelling and tears he’d seen from you, he knew you were good. He couldn’t blame you for your reactions, not with the way you had been left behind. And Tommy — he could understand why Joel did it, far more than you could, at least, but he recognised the pain in you.
Even if Joel did it as a result of his need to protect you, it didn’t come across like that in your eyes. From your view, he had taken the girl he knew for a couple months, and dumped you with his younger brother. He didn’t want you, didn’t care about you. It hurt. It hurt and it burnt your chest when you thought of it, and the only thing that made you feel a different kind of fire was creating your own destruction.
But this, this was different.
Tommy could see it in your face. This was such a drastic change from the girl who did everything she could to destroy what she got her hands on. This was a girl who finally got to create.
And sure, in a box in the corner of the room, there were the shattered remains of your failed attempts, but it hadn’t felt quite the same.
You thought of it this way; by throwing his and Maria’s dinnerware, you were destroying something that belonged to someone else. It was familiar to you. Trying to create the pain that caved your chest in, within another person. And yes, it was wrong, on so many levels, but you couldn’t help it. You just wanted somebody to understand.
When you had taken that first circular sculpture out of the kiln, and thrown it as hard as you could, it almost… hurt. These things were an extension of you. You had shaped these with your own hands, folded them into what you saw fit, so why should you destroy them? How could you? You made them this way.
So you had hidden the rest of the failed attempts, shoved into a cupboard in the back section of the shop, and had piled up your best attempts for Tommy and Maria to take home.
“You’ve been busy,” Tommy said, his eyebrows raised as he walked his way around the old shop, noticing you had even cleaned the two-decades worth of grime from the windows. “These are good, you been working on anythin’ else?”
“Tried a mug,” You offered, shrugging, “Didn’t really go so well. Neither did the bowl.”
“Work in progress,” Tommy replied, knocking your shoulder with his elbow. “Thanks, kid. You didn’t have to.”
“Actually, Maria’s instructions.” You said, but amusement was taking over your voice as you said the words. It was true — she had told you to replace what you had broken. But you hadn’t expected to enjoy it so much.
Tommy laughed, picking up the pile and placing it in the box you’d prepared, three layers of duct tape going either way across the bottom of it. “Well, it’s appreciated, anyway. You ‘round for dinner tonight?”
You shrugged again, making your way behind the counter to shuffle through some things in the back room absentmindedly, rolling your eyes when Tommy followed. You didn’t mind him or Maria hanging around as much as you used to, but you kept them at a distance.
“Come ‘round.” Tommy said then, instead, no longer posing it as a question. They’d tried to get you to move in, take up the spare room that would eventually go to their unborn child, but you’d strongly disagreed.
“You cooking? Or Maria?” You asked him, eyebrow raised as you turned to look at him, leaning back against the counter.
“Maria,” Tommy answered, rolling his eyes at your snicker of amusement. “She tries not to let me within ten feet of the damn oven.”
You couldn’t blame her. On the days that Tommy had brought food over to that big empty house opposite their own, it had been… an experience. Luckily for the two of you, Maria had agreed to go out on less patrols as the weeks passed by, sharing some of Tommy’s nervousness for what could happen.
“Not surprised.” You commented, a small grin on your face. You looked around the room, picking at your fingernails before you spoke up. “Hey, I was thinkin’—”
“That’s dangerous.”
You ignored him, only responding with yet another eye roll, “Get a bed in here, some drawers… could be a good spot for me.”
“Somethin’ wrong with Rancher Street?” He asked, concerned as he stood up straighter, looking around the room, not quite sure why you’d want to leave the house that provided you with plenty of space, warmth, and running water.
“No— No, there’s nothing wrong with it. Just… pretty big space for just one person, y’know?” You said, and gestured towards the door at the other side of the room, “This place has got a bathroom, anyway, so. And I mean, I always eat at yours or at the hall.”
Tommy frowned, contemplating.
Though they would’ve preferred you to have stayed in their home, Tommy and Maria relented when you had insisted on staying in that house. In the end, they had figured, what’s the harm? After all, once Joel and Ellie returned — which Tommy was sure would come, eventually, — they’d be living in that house, too.
That was the point. The house on Rancher Street was reserved for the three of you. Tommy had hoped, secretly, that you staying there, meant you wanted to fix things up, once the others returned.
You looked to him, when he was quiet for a moment too long, and he cleared his throat. “‘Spose it wouldn’t hurt. Bit of a trek from here, to ours, though.”
“Tommy, when I was…” You trailed, looking away, “I used to walk miles in a day. This short walk won’t hurt me.”
“You got a point,” He acknowledged, tipping his head forward, and ignoring your unfinished sentence. “But man, Maria’s not gonna be happy.” He thought of his wife, waddling her way over when she was near-ready to burst, and shook his head with a grin. “For you, I guess she’ll get on with it.”
“Shut up,” You said, amusement clear in your tone. “Now get outta here. I got some more fixin’ up to do.”
Tommy put his hands up in surrender, before slipping the box of plates into his hands, yelling out a, “See you later!” As he left.
You shook your head, rolling your eyes with a begrudgingly fond expression as you took another look around. There was a table that wouldn’t do you any good, too big, so that’d have to go. You wiped your hands against your tattered trousers, and sighed.
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
The lights in Jackson were warm, and filled the streets you walked through as the night slowly took over the day. It was nice, being able to see in front of you as the sky darkened. You tried not to get used to it, but knew you were settling.
It was hard not to — especially after Maria had officially declared that the shop was yours, for whatever you wanted to do with it.
You tried not to think of Boston, usually, but the last time you had had something that was truly yours, was there. It was hard to forget the things you had stashed away, hidden underneath floorboards that were concealed by the only half-decent mattress that Tess and Joel could find.
Thinking of that life was painful, especially when realising that it was unreachable. You hadn’t known it, when you’d left Boston QZ, but you would never get to return to that home that you’d built. To those things you had owned. To the family that had grown its roots in that crappy old apartment.
It was something strange, really. To think that all you had, perhaps all you ever would have, belonged to this town. You were reliant on its walls keeping you safe. At least that much was similar to life in Boston.
People were happier here, though.
You probably couldn’t include yourself in that statement, but for the most part, it was true. The streets remained lit through the dark nights, and you could go out for a walk at any time of the day, with no consequences. Which was a bit of luck, considering that Tommy and Maria always ate late on in the day.
Turning on to their street, you frowned, because the lights in the house opposite Tommy and Maria’s — the one you had yet to move out of — were turned on. And you always turned them off before you left.
You hurried into Tommy and Maria’s, shutting the door tightly behind you and kicking your shoes off in the doorway. “Guys?” You called out, hanging your coat beside the doorway and making your way toward where you heard their responding shouts in the kitchen. “What’s going on?” You asked, upon entering the room.
The glance they shared did not go unnoticed by you.
You raised your eyebrows as they looked to you, seeming almost… nervous. “Did you already tell her?” You asked Tommy, and saw the way Maria’s face immediately flashed with confusion.
“Tell me what?” She asked, turning to Tommy whilst being conscious to continue stirring whatever it was that she was cooking.
“I didn’t—”
“Then who’s in the house?” You interrupted, feeling like your stomach was sinking. You’d thought it would be strange for them to immediately place new people in the house, given that you hadn’t quite packed up the few things you had left there, and the shop wasn’t quite ready. But what other explanation was there?
“Okay, let’s just press pause for a second.” Maria said, shaking her head and looking to her husband. “What haven’t you told me?”
“Well,” He began, scratching the back of his neck, and gesturing towards you, “The shop’s lookin’ real good. And she was hoping she could, y’know, get a bed in there, and stay there.”
“So you haven’t moved new people into the house?” You asked her, feeling your stomach swoop down further as you spoke, and your mouth was going dry. “Then, does that mean—”
Tommy held a placating hand toward you, and it just told you all you needed to know.
“When?” You asked, feeling like your fingertips were burning and your chest was going to explode with how tightly it had constricted. They hesitated, so you repeated, more forcefully, “When?”
“No more than a couple hours ago.” Maria said, putting her spoon down on the counter and stepping forward, frowning when you turned away from her. “The guys on the gate spotted ‘em. Pretty banged up, but they’ll be okay. Sent them in to get some rest.”
“And you didn’t come and tell me?” You demanded, though your voice was weak and you had to hold your hand against your chest to try and steady your breathing.
“Kid, we—”
“Don’t call me that!” You snapped, immediately. Tommy sighed through his nose, nodding his head in something close to defeat. “I don’t want to see either of them. I’m not going in there.”
“You don’t have to do anything right now,” Maria said, frowning at your expression. “You can stay here, tonight, and we can sort the shop out for you tomorrow, but…”
Tommy placed a hand against Maria’s shoulder as she trailed off, “We were thinkin’, maybe you guys could talk it out. It’s been a couple months, now.”
“What’s there to talk about?” You questioned, voice sharp and paining your throat as you spoke. “They left me behind. Think that says everything, doesn’t it?”
It was all over their faces, the fact that they wanted to say more, wanted to say something in some kind of defence of the other Miller man, but they knew you. The married couple were more than aware that anything they said would mean nothing to you. You were like Joel, in that way, Tommy had said before. Stubborn.
They nodded, almost in sync, and Maria turned back to the stove, to continue cooking as she had been before.
“Would you get my stuff for me? When you get the chance?” You asked Tommy, who nodded his head, a frown prominent on his face.
“I’ll go first thing.” He replied, secretly hoping that come morning, you’d magically want to make amends with his brother. He knew it wasn’t likely.
“Thank you.” You said, feeling like heat was crawling up your neck the longer you stood there. The fire in your stomach was fading away, just leaving you feeling uncomfortably warm as you stood in the room. “I’m gonna go get some fresh air.” You nodded to the back door, and headed out once they acknowledged your words.
You stepped out, feeling the muggy air cool your lungs. It was colder than you’d expected, especially considering the way heat seemed to cling to everything in these parts, and you had to grind your teeth to stop the shiver that went down your spine.
It was only when Maria called to tell you dinner was ready that you stepped back inside, rubbing your hands against your arms to try and rid your skin of goosebumps.
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
Tommy had moved you into the shop the very next day, constructing a makeshift bed frame from whatever wood the town could spare, and bringing a mattress from an out-of-use house. You could tell he had wanted to say something, but he held himself back.
Now, it had been almost two weeks since they had returned to Jackson. And you’d been doing a fantastic job of avoiding any sight of them.
It hadn’t been difficult, in the beginning, with them taking time to rest and recover from their journey — or so Maria had told you. But it got harder as the days went on. They were beginning to explore the town, to join in on jobs, to eat where you would usually eat. It was getting annoying.
For the past few months, you’d found it so hard to live without them, but now, you realised it was much harder to live with them around. Hell, you’d even had to avoid Tommy and Maria’s on occasion, because you’d catch yourself starving before being in a room with the two of them, willingly.
Tommy had mentioned that they’d asked about you, that they’d been wondering where you were, but you didn’t need to say much for him to realise that you didn’t want them privy to any information about you. After all, they’d lost that right when they’d abandoned you here, in a town full of strangers, with no concern of what it might do to you.
You were getting angry, the longer it went on, the suspense of when you’d finally catch glimpse of them was eating you up inside. It was like life before Jackson, that feeling of being constantly on edge, of checking behind your shoulder consistently as time passed by.
It was safe to say that you weren’t happy.
You’d tried to keep yourself busy in the shop, in the little safe space in Jackson that was tucked away, belonging only to you, but things seemed tense outside of Jackson, and with Tommy taking on more patrols, Maria had been left alone an awful lot.
Tommy had asked you not to tell her, and you had absolutely no plans to, but he had asked you to hang around with her a bit more.
Partly for her own good, and mostly for his peace of mind. A little part, which he refused to tell you, was that it was also for your own good. Taking your mind off of Joel and Ellie was the best he could do for you, and this was the only way he knew how.
So, you had spent more time than you could’ve imagined at their house. Ending up falling asleep on their couch more times than you could count, with Maria insisting on waiting for Tommy to get home from his late-night patrols. He often came home to the two of you soundly asleep against the couch cushions, and you often woke up in a different position to what you fell asleep in, a blanket covering you and keeping away the slight chill.
It was one of those mornings, and you were in desperate need for a shower and some fresh clothes. You wrote a note for the two of them, knowing it was far too early for them to be up, given the way the sun was only just rising, to let them know you were going back to the shop.
Your feet were dragging with every step you took, and shuffling your jacket around your shoulders took more effort than you had expected. It was definitely going to be a long day, especially since you had promised Maria that you’d help her cook dinner later, considering she was still very against letting Tommy near the stove.
The morning air woke you up the slightest bit, but the chill of the breeze had you rubbing your hands together, regretting not bringing gloves, though you knew that later on it’d be far too warm for them.
You heard your name, and froze where you stood, hands clutched together, one foot in front of the other.
It was like your heart stopped the second you heard it, like it was being squeezed so tightly it couldn’t beat. The sensation made your chest ache, and you grit your teeth to move past the pain that had become all too familiar.
You heard him stop, his footsteps pausing as he hesitated behind you. You stood still for a moment more, before stepping away as he made a move to continue. He said your name again, trying to call you to a stop once more, but you hurried your pace, checking behind you after you had turned the corner, lucky enough to find nothing there.
A sigh escaped you, relaxing your tense shoulders just a fraction as you made a quick journey back to the shop.
You tried not to notice the anxiety balled in your chest when you finally made it. The way it was twisting up, pulling tighter on your lungs and leaving you feeling breathless as you thought too long on the slightest of interactions.
Despite not seeing his face, hearing Joel’s voice made their presence all too real, and you felt… overwhelmed. Nervous. Scared, maybe.
It was too much.
Why did they have to come back? Especially when you knew they hadn’t come back for you, but for the comforts of Jackson.
This was the only place that resembled the world before, the only place where you could feel something close to safe, and you could be comfortable. This town was a place for family, and it was clear that you didn’t have that, anymore.
Joel and Ellie had returned, but they weren’t your family. They had left you behind, to find your own way, whilst they went on an adventure of their own, creating a network of roots to settle in something close to a family of their own. You wondered if Ellie reminded Joel of his daughter, but tried to put the thought to rest as quickly as it arose.
You stepped into the shower, and tried to let the water wash away all thoughts of Joel and Ellie and family.
Later, when you stood at Maria’s side, stirring a pot on the stove as she took a moment to rest, complaining of the way her child was making her back ache. She told you about how it made her feel incredibly old, but you could see the fact that she appreciated it, as something of a reminder of the fact she was still here.
You had hummed along with her tangent, paying attention to her words but not feeling up to speaking all too much. Of course, Maria had noticed. She certainly prided herself on her observation skills.
“What’s up?” She asked softly, a strange contrast the the harsh voice she had just been speaking with as she had criticised her body for the pain it felt. Her hand was placed against the bump that has grown significantly, and you knew she was feeling maternal once again.
“It’s nothing.” You told her, because it was, wasn’t it? Joel and Ellie didn’t care about you, so why would you care about them?
“Mhm,” She hummed, raising her brows at you, “Sure it is. Got nothing to do with the two living across the street?”
You shook your head, continuing to stir the food, and tried your best to let out the sigh in your chest as a normal breath. It didn’t work, and Maria rolled her eyes at your denial of something that was so obvious. You didn’t say anything else on the matter, and couldn’t help but feel relieved when she finally let it rest. The two of you finished cooking, with you doing most of the work, and her giving all of the instructions.
But hey, you were much better than Tommy was, despite your inexperience.
It was when the door was knocked whilst you and Maria sat in their living room that you felt that tightening of your chest once again. She glanced to you, taking in the way your limbs had immediately tensed, all of your muscles straining like you weren’t sure whether to bolt, or stay completely still.
She raised a hand, telling you to wait where you were, and made her way to the front door after much groaning in her attempts to get up from the sofa cushions. You refrained from telling her that you were surprised she could manage it on her own, considering the size of her baby bump.
“Hey, Maria.” A familiar voice spoke, and your hands clenched into fists against your thighs, “Tommy in?” Joel asked, remaining outside the house.
“No, uh— he’s on a late patrol, today.” Maria responded, her voice much lighter when she spoke to Joel than it had been when the three of you had first arrived to Jackson.
“Ah,” Joel sighed, and you could hear him taking a step back on the porch, disappointment lacing his tone. It was too familiar. “Mind if I pop by, later on?” He asked, far more hopeful than you had ever heard him.
“Uh…” Maria trailed, and you knew she was looking back in the hallway, unsure if you’d be staying overnight. The wooden floorboards of the porch creaked as Joel stepped forward again, and you heard Maria shushing him as you clenched your teeth together. “Not now, Joel. It’s not a good time. I’ll tell Tommy to stop by yours.”
He sighed, and it was like you were back in Boston, with how heavy he sounded.
It was the same way he would sigh when you got too excited over something, like he was disappointed. Back then, you had thought it had been because he couldn’t guarantee anything for you. Now, you had no idea. You had always believed you had known him and Tess almost too well, but over the past few months, you realised just how wrong you were. Back in Boston, if someone had told them what would happen when you arrived in Jackson, you would’ve laughed in their face. Would’ve been so certain that Joel would never leave your side. You had no idea how wrong you were.
You swallowed, your throat feeling tight, and your tongue feeling like it was too big for your mouth as you heard the door shut, and Maria rounded the corner with a tight smile on her face.
With your heart pounding, you looked at her where she stood, and stopped her just before she could sit down, blurting: “Can you cut my hair?”
Her surprise was evident, but Maria nodded her head, and you tried to breathe through the pain in your lungs as you followed her to the kitchen.
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
It was week four, and Joel was getting antsy.
Every time he sat down, he found his fingers tapping an unknown rhythm against his trousers, his legs bouncing up and down as he nervously scanned the room, as though you’d appear from around the corner at any second. Of course, it never happened.
Each time he arrived back to the house on Rancher Street, Ellie’s head perked up, the most hopeful he’d seen her since before winter, and he had to shake his head. Had to watch her expression fall.
When he had seen you leaving Tommy and Maria’s, far too early in the morning for anyone to be awake, something had risen in his chest. He knew it was stupid, that he was a fool for thinking you might speak to him after what he did, but he had hoped so badly that you might just understand.
It was the closest he had been to you in weeks, and he hadn’t even managed to see your face up close, had only just about seen a glimpse of it when you had dragged yourself from Tommy’s porch. The moment he had gotten close enough to reach for you, you had bolted, leaving his hand halfway raised into the air as he stared after you, wondering if he should follow you, or let you go.
When he’d arrived at Tommy and Maria’s one evening, hoping to talk to Tommy about his anxieties, he’d found something else. They were shielding you.
And yes, he had asked them to protect you, had trusted them with something he had never even fully trusted himself with, but god. Joel had never expected that they would protect you from him.
But now, here he was, standing in front of an old shop that had likely seen better days, two decades ago. Ellie was by his side, her hand gripping the sleeve of his coat tightly, before she released it to knock loudly against the shop door.
He had half-expected for you to not answer.
Seeing your face, properly, for the first time in months was not the moment Joel had hoped for it to be. Not when your expression had immediately fallen from something of confusion to anger, to something defensive.
“Hi.” Joel breathed, feeling like he should really kick himself for the pathetic attempt at a greeting. Ellie was close to trembling at his side, trying to stay indifferent, but even from the corner of his eye he could see that hope rising in her expression.
“What do you want?” You snapped at them, wanting nothing more than to close the door in their faces, to slam it shut and lock it, to never open it again. But you refrained, something in your chest balling tighter, but you couldn’t help the desire that arose for something. An explanation, maybe. A good enough reason for you to forgive them, perhaps.
Joel jumped in before Ellie could, saying, “Plates!” He saw Ellie’s head whip towards him, a dumbfounded expression painted across her face. He watched you blink in surprise, and saw your expression go towards indifference as you huffed, and moved away from the door, allowing him to push it open a bit more, pulling Ellie in with him. She closed it behind her.
The silence lingers as you busy yourself with fortifying a box, feeling bitterness creeping up your throat. You thought about why they needed plates, and could not grind your teeth together, somewhat hoping that the scratches and dents in the kitchen counters couldn’t be fixed.
“Listen,” Your head snapped up to him, knowing what came next, and saw the way he backed down, the word kid dying on his lips. He cleared his throat as you went back to taping the cardboard box. “We were hopin’… that, uh, we could all have a talk. Clear things up.”
“I don’t know, Joel,” You began, the bitterness falling off of your tongue with every word, “You guys leaving seemed clear enough to me.”
He hated how much older you sounded.
“We left because we had to, not because we wanted to.” Joel defended, immediately, feeling the hope that had been flickering in his chest for the past four weeks sputter out.
“I remember trying to come with you,” You said offhandedly, keeping your eyes on the cardboard box as you put the final third piece of duct tape across the bottom. “You said: ‘me and Ellie. Not you.’ Remember?”
Ellie’s expression fell further, somehow, and Joel gaped for a moment, flashing back to the way your own face had fallen at his words.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” He said your name, almost like a plead, and frowned when you just turned to go towards the back side of the room, beside a closed door. You ignored it, collecting some of the better looking plates that had been stacked up there. “I didn’t want you to get hurt. I know you never asked for any of this.”
“You’re right, I didn’t. I wanted to stay with you. That’s what I wanted. No matter what might’ve happened, I just wanted to be with you two. You took that from me.” You said, voice harsher than Joel had ever heard it, even from when he and Tess had first taken you in. Remembering that version of you was painful, because he saw no resemblance within the you that stood before him.
Ellie spoke up then, her eyebrows furrowed inwards as she became something far too close to angry as she said your name, “You have no idea what we’ve been through—”
“You’re right.” You cut her off, placing the stack of plates in the cardboard box with a loud thud, “I don’t. And who’s fault is that?”
You looked between the two of them, as if you were expecting the answer, but Joel couldn’t bring himself to say it. You were so grown up, and he couldn’t understand it. It had only been a few months.
At their silence, you scoffed, and shoved the box towards them, watching as Joel instinctively shot his hand out to prevent it from falling off of the edge of the counter. He took the box, feeling like it was far too heavy for what it was, but perhaps that was just the conversation.
“I want you guys to go now.” You said, firm, despite the way your voice tried to shake. You wouldn’t let your voice tremor, not in front of them. Not when they didn’t deserve your devastation.
Joel’s face fell, a common theme in each of your recent interactions, and couldn’t help the way he felt sick to his stomach. All those months ago, you had been asking to leave with them, and now here you were, looking at him with eyes that he didn’t recognise, telling him to leave.
“Come on, Ellie.” He said reluctantly, turning away from where you stood, chin held high.
“No!” Ellie replied loudly, her lip trembling as she looked between you and Joel, like she was expecting something to magically repair the rift between you. Unfortunately, this world was real, and it was ugly, and you weren’t sure that fixing things was even possible. “We— We can’t just give up.” She said, pleadingly, looking to Joel to fix things, like she was so used to him doing.
But Joel knew that this was something he couldn’t fix so easily. “We’re not giving up.” He responded then, training his gaze on you, where your eyebrows had furrowed and you had turned your face away from them.
“You should.” You told him, your own trembling lip matching Ellie’s, before you turned away fully, making the short few steps and entering the back room, shutting the door tightly behind you.
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
“You asshole!” You yelled, the moment you saw Tommy stood in the kitchen doorway of his home, with him having turned to face you at the sound of his front door slamming open. He looked confused, but you didn’t fall for that expression, even as he said your name in an even more confused tone.
You stormed over to him, pushing your hands against his chest and feeling him take a bracing step back, not stopping you. He held his hands up by his side, surrendering once again, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from stinging with tears.
“How could you fucking do that to me?” You asked almost desperately, pushing your palm against his shoulder again, and then you felt Maria step around him, place a hand toward you that you flinched back from.
“Do what?” Tommy questioned, dumbfounded, and holding a hand up toward Maria, who backed off at your blatant dismissal of comfort.
“Tell them about my shop!”
Tommy’s face became one of realisation, and Maria whacked a hand against his chest. He immediately looked guilty a moment after the realisation, and held his hands out towards you.
“I let it slip, I know, but I didn’t realise he’d noticed. I swear, I wouldn’t tell him that purposely. He came ‘round?” Tommy spoke, frowning when you took a step away from his hands as they reached for you. He couldn’t help but feel like Joel had unravelled all the trust he had built with you, and his frustration grew at the second realisation of the evening. You could only nod in response, your expression a mixture of anger and devastation. “I’m sorry, kiddo, I didn’t mean for that. Joel wants to fix things up, yeah, but—”
“Fix things? Tommy, how could he fix things?” You asked, your volume raising immediately as you cut him off. “Joel— He knew everything about me, and he chose to leave. He left me willingly! That isn’t… every time I see myself, I see those parts that he rejected. How do you fix that? Tell me how you fix that, and I’ll fucking do it, Tommy, but I can’t figure it out. How can you fix that? How can you forgive that?”
You were yelling, you knew you were, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Everything you had built in Jackson was shattering like those stupid plates in that stupid kitchen. Tears were falling down your face, and Tommy blurred away as your eyes continued to fill with them. It felt never ending, this whole situation did. How did you fix this? Could you?
“I don’t know.” Tommy admitted, feeling like his heart could tear from his chest as he looked at you, your breaths shaking as you tried to get through sobs, your face covered in tears, chest heaving. “But we’re going to figure this out. We’ve got you.”
He moved towards you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders when he realised you’d let him. He felt your arms tremble as they wrapped around him, and he stared past your head as he took notice of Joel frowning in the still-open doorway. They shared a look, and Tommy gave Joel an all too familiar expression, one that he used to give when Sarah would be upset. Too upset for anybody else but Joel to be present.
It felt strange, to Joel, not only to be on the receiving end of the look, but because it was concerning you. But what was he meant to do? How could he fix it?
Joel frowned, nodding at his younger brother, and closed their front door as he turned away, breathing out a sigh that felt far too heavy. He needed to figure this out.
“Come on,” Tommy said, after a few moments, when he was certain you hadn’t noticed Joel closing the door. He led you over to the sofa where Maria was waiting, and when you collapsed next to her, they held you between them until you fell asleep, face still wet from tears. “It’ll be okay.” He spoke, quietly, despite knowing you were asleep. He was half saying it to himself and Maria, too. They needed the reassurance just as much as you did.
Tommy decided then, that when you woke up in the morning, he would do his best to help you figure everything out. And as he shared a look with Maria, he knew that she’d be there, helping right at his side.
PART THREE
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its-time-to-write ¡ 5 months ago
Note
OMGGGG WELCOME BACK QUEEN!!!!! honestly you can write quite literally ANYTHING (esp hurt/comfort pls pls pls) with jamie bc all your fics are simply immaculate 🫶🏼
THANKS QUEEN. I’m starting off with the most open-ended prompt and let me tell you, ya girl is RUSTY. This took way longer than it should so pls forgive me😅
But yeah requests are still open so ask away!
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birds of a feather
The lights are off when you get home, but you don’t bother turning them on. You’re familiar enough with Jamie’s house that you can make your way upstairs and to his bed without looking. You drop your bag, kick off your shoes, and trudge upstairs.
The light’s on in his room but he’s passed out. You smile to yourself despite the day and switch off the lights.
You weren’t going to cry again, really you weren’t, but by the time you’re brushing your teeth, they’re sliding down your face.
But it’s dark, so no one can see.
You slip into bed where you can (hopefully) cry yourself to sleep when a sob escapes your throat.
Another slips out, then another, making it hard to stop and harder to breathe.
“Babe?” comes Jamie’s hoarse voice. “You alright?”
You can feel him reach for the light, so you blindly grab for his arm. “Don’t,” you gasp, “Please, just leave it off.”
Jamie understands what you mean. You’re trying to say, I don’t want you to see me cry.
He shifts so his face is two inches from yours. He’ll be awake in a few hours, but it doesn’t matter at the moment.
“What happened?” he whispers, but he already knows the answer. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but Beard had been running the team ragged in training.
You take a shuddering breath and Jamie’s eyes have adjusted enough where he can wipe away a tear. “Went exactly as expected, didn’t it?” you say. “She did what she always does. Asked for money, was furious when I said no. Asked for advice, was mad when I gave her an answer. Asked me to listen, was upset when I wasn’t giving her solutions. She stormed out after an hour, but not before throwing her wine on me. I ruined the dress you got me, I’m pretty sure we got papped, and I’m really, really sorry.” That’s going to be a lovely article to wake up to in the morning. If Keeley were here, she would be able to come up with a catchy headline for it, rhyming “Tartt,” with something about sisters and WAGs and thrown wine. 
But Keeley isn’t here, it’s just you and Jamie, and you can’t help but think it’s too early in your relationship for this.
Really though, you haven’t been together long enough for your name to tarnish his. That’s a milestone that should be passed in ten months. A year, even.
Jamie barely catches himself from asking, “Why do you still see her?” just like everyone has asked him about his father.
Instead he says, “I’m not fuckin’ worried,” and wraps you in his arms. 
You exhale and snuggle as close as you can. 
It’s times like this where you remember exactly why you’re with him. He just- gets it.
You met him through Keeley. Keeley had been your sister’s friend first, met at a photo shoot, but it was hard to stay friends with your sister. You and Keeley became close while your sister accused you of stealing all her friends.
“Keeley would love to see you,” you had tried to tell her one time in an attempt to keep her from shouting.
“The fuck I would,” Keeley had snorted when you relayed the story hours later.
Keeley’s a genius, really. She took a horrible a vitriolic viral tabloid story about Jamie’s dad and a charity gala, and managed to create this, whatever “this” is.
Jamie’s running his thumb up and down your arm as your breathing evens out.
“Want to go on a run with me and Roy tomorrow?” he asks. “I’ll get you breakfast.”
You whisper back, “I can buy my own breakfast,” and Jamie’s grateful that it’s dark so he can roll his eyes without getting smacked.
“What if I fucking want to get it for you? What then, ey?”
You respond, “Hm,” and then you’re asleep.
—
If Roy’s surprised you’re with Jamie in the morning, he doesn’t show it. He grunts and says, “Don’t think I’m going fucking easy on you, Tartt,” but he sets the warmup at a pace you like before saying, “You’re doing fucking sprints today and I don’t want to hear fucking shit about it.”
He’d never admit it, but Roy’s excellent at reading people. The sprints are so you don’t have to have a single thought inside your head. By the time the sun rises, you’re enjoying coffee on a bench with Roy while Jamie completes his eighty-second pushup.
“Don’t fucking read the fucking Sun,” is the last thing Roy says before leaving to go to his actual work. You grimace, but Jamie takes your hand and swings it the whole way back to his house.
“I’m not going to see her again,” you tell him. He knows you’re lying. He said the same thing about his dad month and a half ago, but he’s going to see him in rehab next week.
Jamie hands you a credit card on his way out the door “to get something fucking hot, babe.”
It won’t change anything and it won’t even fix anything either, but that’s not the point.
The point is he’s looking at you. He sees, he understands, and he’s still there.
You do end up reading the article. It’s complete shit, a made up story about you being a bitch whose newfound celebrity has alienated you from your loving family. Nowhere does it mention that said “loving” family only comes crawling around when they need something. That what they take from you will never be enough.
The fuck did you read that shite for? comes Jamie’s text after you’ve ignored his last five. ik that’s why ur not responfing
Why is your autocorrect never on? you write back instead of answering.
Jamie’s reply is quick: for the aesthetic
You: So you can write “aesthetic,” but have trouble spelling “responding?” Seems strange
Jamie: Sma helpd
Then: *Sam.
You smile, despite yourself. Sometimes you wonder how much of this he does just to get a rise out of you. You suspect it’s more than he lets on, but you’ll let him pretend to be stupid for now.
You check the time. If he’s texting at this hour, it means training’s done. Your finger hovers over the call button for a fraction of a second before pressing it.
Sam picks up on the second ring. “Your boyfriend is hitting Isaac with a towel,” he says, no preamble. “It is chaos.”
“He was just texting me a second ago,” you say.
You can practically hear Sam shrug through the phone. “It escalated quickly. Do you need him? I’m sure they will stop since you’re calling.”
He doesn’t sound too sure, which makes you laugh. “No, it’s all good, can you just tell him-”
You’re interrupted but the muffled sound of the phone being wrestled away from Sam.
“Jamie’s a dickhead,” comes Isaac’s voice far too close to the speaker before there’s vague wrestling again and you hear Jamie, very much out of breath.
“What’s up, babe?” he asks and you don’t even remember why you called him in the first place because you’re smiling too wide.
“I really fucking love you,” you tell him and even though it isn’t the first time you said it, you feel nervous. The good kind, where you know he’s going to say it back and mean it, and that his words are just for you.
Jamie says, “I love you too,” and tries his best to convey a thousand meanings into four words.
“Great,” you say, “because the top Google story for you is me with a giant wine stain on my dress. So I think we should go out tonight and look so hot that everyone forgets all about it. Thoughts?”
Jamie says, “Fucking mint,” then, “fucking ow,” and you can tell by the sounds in the background that Isaac’s gotten him again. 
“GottagoloveyouheresSam,” he says in a rush before you hear him practically hurl his phone.
“You have some strange coworkers, Sam,” you comment.
“You have a strange boyfriend,” he retorts, and he’s right. But Jamie’s strange matches your strange, so you think it’ll last.
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zablife ¡ 5 months ago
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Earth Angel
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Benny Cross x gf reader
Summary: After running from the one person who's ever truly loved him, Benny returns to see if you'll take him back, but there's a surprise waiting.
Warnings: language, pregnancy, angst but ends with fluff
A/N: A short imagine I couldn't stop thinking about. If you like it, pls let me know in all the usual ways. Comments are love 💕
No spoilers here!
Benny Cross Masterlist
Benny loved you. It had only ever been you. He knew that now that he was returning home as fast as his bike could carry him. The past six months he’d spent running from it were a mistake he deeply regretted and he only hoped you would forgive him.
If he was honest with himself, the unconditional love you’d shown scared him and he knew he’d eventually fuck it up, the way he always did. So he packed his shit and left in the night without explanation.
Afterward, you’d spent many hours crying for your lost love so when Johnny met him on the road, he relayed your sadness. The shame of it burned deep to Benny's core. It was only made worse by Johnny’s words of your continued devotion. “She still loves ya, kid…Always will.”
The chance meeting reminded him of your goodness, the nickname for you still on the tip of his tongue. Earth angel he'd always called you, a woman too good for this world. You deserved better than him, but if his presence made you happy, he would vow to try again.
That's how he found himself on the long stretch of highway toward home, eager to lay eyes on your beautiful face once more and see for himself if Johnny was right. Would you take him back? he wondered.
When his tired body pushed off his bike and out toward the back yard where you hung the laundry, he could hardly believe the sight that greeted him.
There you stood in the golden afternoon sunlight, hair piled atop your head and sundress flowing in the breeze. He called your name and you turned to face him, eyes wide with surprise.
His breath hitched as he caught sight of your swollen stomach, suddenly realizing all he’d missed in his long absence from home. Rushing to greet you, he swept you off your feet, a wide grin spreading across his face as you opened your arms to accept him.
“Careful, Benny!” you cried as he spun you in a circle, overcome with joy.
He placed you on the ground gently as a chuckle erupted from deep within his chest, a look of complete awe sparkling in his eyes.
Then as the adrenaline subsided, he pulled you close enough to nuzzle your neck, inhaling the floral notes of your perfume and the crisp clean cotton from the wash. One hand resting over your bump, he suddenly grew quiet, voice hushed as he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me, angel?”
You stroked the blonde curls at the nape of his neck as you shook your head sadly, “Didn’t have the chance.”
Benny raised his head to meet your gaze, tears in his eyes as thought of you scared and alone, “I would’ve never left you like this.” He let out a shaky breath as he added, “There isn’t a day I didn’t think about you, you know.”
With those words, you melted into his arms, head resting against his shoulder as you admitted, “I missed you too, baby. I’m glad you’re home.”
Hearing the sweet tone of your voice relaxed any lingering tension, his arms softening their grip. His large hand reached to cup your cheek, Benny’s blue eyes glistening as he begged for your forgiveness. “I mean it, I’m so sorry, angel.”
“You’re here now,” you told him, inhaling a deep breath which he emulated with steady resolve.
“And I’ll never leave you again,” he murmured, leaning in to seal his promise with a kiss.
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