Tumgik
#BUT YES I GOT MANY NICE FISHES
vampire-cookie · 2 years
Note
i just felt like i should talk to my mutuals more often but i am not sure how. i hope u got many nice fishes
felt that one for REAAAL
0 notes
movisual · 1 year
Text
i love this idea that “yeah batfam seems scary to other superheroes at first but theyre all actually nice” but give me more “batfam are almost all regular humans but theyre also complete freaks in different ways”
like yes. justice league and other teams are full of aliens, cyborgs, magic users, fish people, etc, but:
nightwing can bend his completely human body like its laffy taffy
red hood got stabbed and was barely phased in the midst of battle
red robin has been awake longer than any league-er has even attempted and seems fine, along with solving and completely so many cases some heroes think he has a meta human brain
robin has been found completely still for incredible lengths of time and knows things about league members that no one told him until he casually mentions it in conversation
black bat can appear so silently in a room that even those with heightened senses dont notice until they turn around and jump at her standing right in front of them
batman is BATMAN
and its like yeah these teams are glad that gotham vigilantes are there to help but also they are side eye-ing each other because gotham vigilantes are complete and utter freaks in the most HUMAN way to the rest of the superheroes
15K notes · View notes
envy-of-the-apple · 7 months
Text
Earth Kills Moon
Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader
Word count: 6.3k
Part one: Sun Eats Moon
Part three: Moon Starves Sun
Synopsis: A retelling of Sun Eats Moon in Suguru's perspective
(Warnings: forced relationships, bullying, non con touching, non con kissing)
Tumblr media
Suguru liked you. 
It wasn't even a crush. A passing interest, maybe. You were pretty. You had a nice smile. Though, he'd never directly spoken to you, he could tell that you were kind. Not in the artificial cherry most people were. Natural, like honey, never spoiling. You share the same homeroom as Satoru, and he'd always tended to be observant, unlike his friend. One thing he liked about you was how observant you were. You were constantly looking out for your friends, mere acquaintances, and everyone in your vicinity. Often, Suguru wondered if being a people-pleaser was natural or from a fear of not fitting in. 
Suguru is observant. He notices the lingering gaze Satoru gives you when you walk away, hurrying to catch up with the rest of your friends. Satoru then turns back to the carton of chocolate milk you'd left him.
"Cute," Satoru says after a minute. It's more of an afterthought than anything. He pops the carton open. Suguru hears the fabric tear. He hums in agreement. The topic switches to something else, a hot celebrity maybe? Suguru can't remember. That day had been so insignificant to him. It hadn’t mattered to him for Suguru to remember anything further.
A few days later, Suguru noticed Satoru was spending a lot more time with you. 
It was hard not to notice, actually. His friend attached himself to you like he'd die if he couldn’t. Satoru went everywhere with you now. Suguru caught him walking you from school, offering you rides in his new car, following you to the lunch hall. And if he couldn’t go to where you were, he’d drag you back to him. Watching you and Satoru was a bit like watching two magnets. North pole and South pole. So different, yet constantly finding the other. 
“Tryna’ run away from me, now?” Satoru asks, a teasing lilt in his voice as he watches you fiddle with your bag.
You laugh, continuing to fish out your lunch box. “Just grabbing lunch.” 
“Eat with us,” Satoru insists, “we found a great spot up at the rooftop.” 
You meet Suguru’s gaze just then. He’d been silently lounging on a nearby desk, observing the two of you. He gives a smile. You return it. Polite. He wonders if your mother taught you to smile like that.
“I thought students weren’t allowed up there?” You ask Satoru. 
The boy rolls his eyes. “So, who cares? It’ll be fun.” 
You pause, right then. The tiniest of hesitation. Suguru wonders if you’re noticing just how different you and Satoru were. You, the people pleaser, meek, always more than willing to bend towards authority. Satoru was rougher, more resilient, uncaring of signs and rules. The gap between the two of you is astronomical. Could you feel it as well?
Whatever you’re thinking, it’s gone in a moment. You rise, giving Satoru another laugh. To Suguru, it sounds pretty. 
“Well, have fun for me. Besides, I can’t ditch my friends. They’re waiting for me.” 
With that, you give both him and Satoru a tiny wave, before disappearing out of the classroom. Suguru waves back. Satoru doesn’t. Instead, he keeps his eyes on your back until he can’t see you anymore. 
“Got ditched again, hm?” Suguru teases. Satoru only groans, tossing his head back as he leans dangerously on the chair.
“Always leavin’ me for ‘em, too,” he complains, “so fuckin’ annoyin’.”
Suguru can only smile, getting up to follow his friend out the door. He can barely count how many times he’d seen this before, each with a different person. It starts the same. Satoru will cling onto you for a couple more days, and then ask you out. When you say yes, he’d date you for a few weeks before eventually getting bored and dumping you. 
It’s a cruel cycle, something that’s just an inevitability with Gojo Satoru. The boy can’t stay in one place, he’s constantly moving around, never one to stop. For Satoru, Suguru was the most permanent thing in his life. Which made sense, they were pretty similar in terms of ideals. 
A cruel cycle, and Suguru feels a tiny bit of sympathy for you. You were sweet, unlike the type Satoru typically went for. Honey. Natural. Truthfully, Suguru was a little disappointed as well. The type of disappointment he’d feel when someone took the last crab stick before he could. A fleeting feeling, one that ultimately wouldn’t matter. 
From the day they first met, Suguru knew one thing: Gojo Satoru has never been told no before. 
It made sense. He was the only child to one of the most powerful families in the country. Spoiled from day one, some could say. Satoru grew up knowing nothing but wealth and prosperity. They met when they were both still in elementary school, still with high-pitched voices and large eyes. Suguru’s family was fairly affluent as well. Now that Suguru thinks back, perhaps their meeting had been orchestrated by meddling parents in order to form more connected. It didn’t matter, either way. It had benefitted all three parties, after all.
Yes, Suguru knew from the moment Satoru pointed at him and declared him his ‘best friend’, that Satoru had never been told no before. 
Satoru was the Sun. The universe revolved around him, catered to him. Suguru supposed he wasn't much better considering he too spoiled his best friend in that sense. They were different. They'd been born different, coming from families who cherish them with wealth and power. Suguru supposes it was natural for them to be so intertwined. Like calls for like. 
Suguru isn’t aware of the exact details, but he knows you rejected Satoru. 
The boy doesn’t have to tell him. His friend is uncharacteristically quiet during that weekend. He has no interest in the arcade, or the next basketball tournament his team is going to compete in. Satoru just sits on top of Suguru’s bed, casually sucking on a carton of chocolate milk. Suguru glanced down at the abandoned PlayStation remote. He’d lost yet another game against his dark-haired friend with no complaints. Satoru didn’t even play
You’d really done a number on him, Suguru thinks to himself. Suguru would assume it’s heartbreak, but he knows his friend better than that. Something burns in his chest, but he’s pushing it away before he can figure out why. Nipping it in the bud. It was a cruel thought. A bad one. He should ignore it.
Well, it’s done. It doesn’t matter anyway. Satoru would eventually get over it. He’s not known to sulk. 
He’s not there to see what Satoru tells them, but he’s there to see the effects. 
It starts out small. Or perhaps just not noticeable enough. Gojo Satoru has always attracted attention, whether it was satisfactory or not. Lackeys, Satoru often calls them because they're too far beneath him to even be called equals.
Suguru notices their sudden interest in you before even you can. A harsh word here and there. Giggling at the word 'easy'. You peacefully trek on, not noticing the abuse until it turns physical. That starts at the end of Monday. 
By Tuesday, they're already shoving you down each chance they get. You get surprised when it happens the first time, then the second, then the third. You have soft skin, plushy, Suguru could tell. He wondered if it was getting marked now. He wonders if you go home, peeling of your uniform, staring at the bruises of hands on your skin because you’re so fragile.
(They never go too far, not enough to completely injure. Suguru knows this because one time, one of the idiots had pushed you too hard. You’d stumbled, nearly hitting the back of your head with a metal locker. Satoru had seen. Suguru doesn’t know what Satoru did, but that particular one was gone the next time and the rest got the memo to scare, not injure.)
Satoru never takes part in this, but he keeps an eye on you sometimes. Tuesday evening comes and they both silently watch you through a window. You move through an empty hall, before they arrive again, slapping your binders out of your hands, chortling with each other. They're too far away to hear, but Suguru could bet it would sound like nails scraping against a chalkboard. 
Out of the corner of his eye, Suguru watches his best friend. Satoru looks impassive, face blank as he stares down at your figure. Akin to a child watching ants burning through a magnifying glass, instilled with that innate desire to see them explode into ash. 
When the lackeys leave, you bend down on the floor, collecting your stuff. Your hair covers your eyes, so he can't see your expression, but he can see your shoulders tremble. Were you-
A corral of people run to you. They lean down, picking up the stuff you had missed. You look up, your eyes are shiny but you're laughing when they say something. You wipe at your eyes, standing up as they lead you out of the hallway. Suguru had seen them hanging out with you before. They all seemed like they supported each other, supported you. 
Suguru feels his frown deepen, conflicted. He doesn’t like it.
"It's not nice to pick on the weak, Satoru," he quietly says. 
Satoru's eyes trail your figure out the door. He gives a small hum.
By Wednesday, your friends disappear from your side. 
The abuse is getting worse, noticeable to the point where the rest of the student body is heavily avoiding you. Teachers won't raise a finger at what's happening. As much as they like to preach about their 'zero tolerance for bullying', Suguru knows they'll willingly turn a blind eye when matters involve Gojo Satoru. No teacher wants to deal with the wrath the Gojo family is more than willing to unlease for the sake of their heir.
Yet, you aren't getting it. You don't break, don't bend. He can feel the humiliation roll off of you in waves, yet you don't react. Which was strange because he knew your archetype. A people-pleaser, constantly bending over backward for other's sake. You want nothing more than to become part of the crowd again, completely invisible. You’re community-oriented. You thrive off of companionship. This ostracization must be killing you. Suguru doesn't get it until he spots your face, just once, narrowed eyes, anger. 
Pride. He'd forgotten other people had that too. Though, Suguru admires it, a part of him knows it shouldn’t last.
Suguru thinks he does it because he pities you. You're a little naive. Suguru has your thought process figured out. You think if you take the torment long enough, Satoru would eventually just forget about you all together. Once he's done with you, you'd focus on picking up the pieces that used to be your life. It's not a bad plan, if you weren't dealing with Gojo Satoru. 
The boy is a hurricane. Fast, unrelenting, unforgiving. Satoru won't stop. He won't stop until you're ruined and broken. Turned into a mere asteroid of what you once were. 
So, Suguru decides to give you a push in the right direction. 
The students have already created a wide circle for you by the time he steps in, bending down, picking up the stuff you had dropped. You're silent until he hands you his pieces. He doesn't bother responding to your timid thanks. 
"Give in," he tells you, watching the way your eyes widen as you look up at him.
You're weak. Physically, emotionally. He could easily pick you up with one hand, crush your body with his fist. Satoru could eviscerate your body from existence. You don't stand a chance with him. With either of them. 
His advice to you is good. Reasonable. And yet, he sees the face you make, the way you slowly get up. You won’t listen. That same burning feeling in his chest starts. It's gotten more painful. 
You don't listen to him until you lose nearly everything. Just as he warned you. Friday comes. You become Satoru's. And it's a little too late for everything. 
Suguru doesn't think you ever learn that Satoru loves messing with you. 
Or, perhaps you do, but you can't help it. You're too honest, too open. He often wonders if that's how you were raised. To be honest, open, vulnerable. Your parents must have filled your thoughts with delusions, coddling you with words of cheap motivation. The world is your oyster. You just had to reach out and take it.
Maybe now you're finally realizing, sitting on Satoru's lap, that all men aren't created equal. 
Clearly, you weren't happy about it. Yet, you aren't complaining, sitting there pliantly legs firmly crossed, hands curled into tiny fists, staring rigidly on the floor. The first few times Satoru had done this in public, you were always biting your lip, tears threatening to fall. Now, Suguru thinks you just dissociate, coming back when Satoru laughs at something, jostling you in his arms. 
It's a bit like watching a helpless bird on the ground, twitching and spasming after it had just collided with a glass window. Pitiful, but there was nothing that could be done. It's the inevitability of it all that makes him pity you more than anything else, really.
Every so often, your eyes would catch his. It's a quick glance, as though you were wondering if he was watching. He can barely catch it, but Suguru is observant. Much like you. It's meaningless, and your gaze returns to the floor. Your fists tighten. 
Granting you mercy, Suguru stops looking at you during those times. 
He's not sure how Satoru sees you. Perhaps, you're akin to a dog for him. Though, that might not be very good for you. Satoru hadn't been very good with animals when he was younger. Satoru had always been rough with any pets he came into contact with, pushing and tugging. Suguru doubted that had changed. 
Satoru's is your official title. It isn't a relationship. It's an ownership. Unequal from the start. The one who holds the leash in the end, will always be Satoru. 
It took a while for you to fully learn that. 
Suguru didn't mean to catch the two of you. Looking back, it was probably because Satoru couldn't care less if someone was watching. Maybe Satoru was being obvious on purpose. It was a little while after school had officially ended. Suguru knew your usual routine would place you right at the library, scrolling through books. Satoru would most likely be there too, pestering you about this and that. It's the scene Suguru prepares himself to walk into.
Instead, you're wedged in between the white-haired boy and the wall, there's no space for you to do anything but sink. You're already crying (when was the last time you smiled?), trying to pull away but Satoru isn't letting you. He's gripping you by the chin, forcing eye contact. His sunglasses are off, tucked on his collar. 
Suguru's close enough to hear. You're begging. Apology after apology. It's barely a whisper, but they're spilling out of you like a prayer. He can't discern the context, but he knows enough. 
You made Satoru angry. 
He's still smiling, but it isn't sincere. Almost bordering on mania as he tightens his grip on you, forcing you further into the wall. Suguru doesn't think Satoru has ever hit you before, but now he's wondering if quick violence was preferable to this. 
"Don't be like that," Satoru chides as another squeak leaves your lips, "Where was that smile you were givin' him, hm? C'mon, pretty girl. You were wearin' it just a second ago." 
"It-it wasn't like that, I swear," you continue to plead, still not realizing that it's too late, "he was giving me his notes. Please-please Satoru-" 
"Wrong answer," he cuts you off, you flinch at his harshness but Suguru decides Satoru's being nice to you. He's been known to do worse, "we've been over this before, haven't we? Or did your stupid brain forget?" 
You're choking down another hiccup. It takes a minute for you to calm down enough to speak clearly. Ever impatient, Satoru's hand digs into your shoulder. 
"I'm sorry, Satoru," you say, "it won't happen again." 
He tilts his head, waiting. You wilt under his gaze. 
"I'm sorry...’Toru." 
Satoru gives a satisfied hum, pulling back and Suguru can practically see your lungs sag with relief. His mania is gone, replaced by something much more lighthearted and carefree. Suguru'd seen it before, but it was certainly something watching Satoru go from one high to the next. Even to Suguru, it's terrifying to witness. 
Suguru decides to make himself known right then. He comes out of the shadows, acting as though he'd just arrived. His friend lazily gives him a wave, curling an arm around your waist. You try to scrub away your tears with your forearms, unaware of how much Suguru had seen. Another mercy Suguru grants you. He doesn't acknowledge it. 
The three of you sit in the library for half an hour until you're done pretending that you're studying. When Satoru walks you home, Suguru follows. He notes that you barely hesitate to give Satoru a chaste kiss on the lips, and he wonders how often his friend has demanded one from you for you to be so casual about it. 
He thinks he gets it when he and Satoru are walking on the street without you. To Satoru, you aren't a dog. You aren't a pet, something that he keeps to see bark.
No, you are just Satoru's. 
Towards the end of the year, Suguru realizes that Satoru loves you. 
He's nicer to you, now. Suguru doesn't think you've realized how softer Satoru's gotten, but the change is there. He spots less marks on you now. The biggest evidence he has is that stolen moment of you and Satoru. You'd accidentally fallen asleep during lunch break, dozing off on your desk. Satoru was right next to you, gently pushing your hair out of your face. Satoru loves you. 
You've changed too. Adapted, he should say. You cry less, now. Each time he sees you, you look more and more put together. As though, you're done mourning. The final stage of grief. Acceptance.
Despite how much nicer Satoru is to you, he's still just as clingy. Suguru notices that even now, none of your former friends speak to you. No one at school does. It's an unspoken rule to not mess with Satoru's things. 
Suguru can still remember the last guy who hadn't gotten the memo. A new student. Freshly transferred. Suguru had heard the conversation. The guy was hardly interested in you. It was nothing more than small talk. The pat on your shoulder had been thoughtless at least, friendly at most. 
Satoru beat him until the boy was bloody and had a broken nose. A week later, he'd transferred again. 
You're off limits. To everyone but Suguru. 
The Earth is the only planet capable of sustaining life within this cold solar system. It's close enough to the sun to feel the warmth, yet far enough so it doesn't burn. It's strong, too. A powerful magnetic forcefield, capable of shutting down the sun's cosmic radiation. Thus, the Earth spins happily around the Sun, surrounded by a sea of dead planets. 
So, sometimes when Satoru can't walk you home. Suguru does. 
It was just the beginning of spring. The school year was starting to end. The school itself was starting to slow down. Teachers were getting less and less strict, less work was given out. It didn't matter. Colleges had already been picked. They were all close to the end. 
You don't say much when the two of you are alone. Suguru understands. It's hard to say much of anything when you're crushed by the weight of Gojo Satoru. But Suguru could have sworn he'd seen a flicker of relief when he came to pick you up and not his friend. You're clearly happier when it's him. Suguru decides he likes how that feels. It's a quick feeling of superiority. Something that quickly disappears when your eyes flick down. 
He knows where your house is, but he lets you take the lead anyway. Suguru figures it's the least he can do, give you that sense of control when nothing you do ever really does anymore. 
You and him have forged a shaky companionship. He's not sure what he is to you entirely, but you seem reliant on him in some way. it’s his fault, he thinks. He wonders if it has to do with the contraception he'd given you. He can still remember the trembling hands as you took it from him, curling the packet into your grip. That day he went home and his fingers felt strangely itchy. 
Does the Earth ever wonder if it can turn the Sun?
When he asks you a question, you answer. At least you aren't mute, though Suguru doesn't think he'd blame you if you ignored him. Your voice is stilted, with enough words to answer the question, but still not enough to fully sate him. 
And then, you break. 
Just a bit. 
A tiny piece of you shatters, and you show yourself to him. 
He'd been talking about something insignificant, college, his plans. Just ramblings. Somehow, Satoru comes into the conversation and he's talking about the area of his friend's college campus, how Satoru mentioned that he's looking for apartments for the two of you to stay in. And then, you're uncharacteristically scoffing. 
"Right," you say, head faced down on the sidewalk as you kick a rock, "because I'm following him there." 
Suguru can't help but place the sarcasm in your voice. The bitterness. He's heard it before, but it's a fascinating thing hearing it come from you. And then Suguru realizes that you accidentally gave something away. 
You were leaving. 
Somehow, it never crossed Suguru's mind that you were still rebelling, even now. And yet, he can't shake off the heat in your voice, your words. 
You seem to realize this too, freezing. 
He lets you falter for a few more moments before giving you a reprieve. 
"Satoru's idealistic like that," he let out. 
Your shoulders lower, and for the sake of both you and him, he doesn't press any further. 
He doesn't let himself let it go, even when he drops you home, arriving to his own house. Always cold. The mansion's lights are always off. No one's ever home. And Satoru's out of town. 
It's better this way, Suguru thinks as he lies in bed, staring up at the ceiling. No distractions, he can think better, as he replays your words over and over again. You were leaving. You were leaving. You were leaving Satoru. 
The night passes. When Satoru comes back to town, he's joyful as always, an arm slung around your shoulders. Suguru watches the way he coos at you, saying how much he missed you. You take his affections the way you always do, with a strained smile and wavering eyes. 
You glance at Suguru. Suguru stares right back. 
For a moment, Suguru thinks he understands why people are so enthralled with solar eclipses. The moon is seen as an underdog in most instances. It must be thrilling when a weak satellite can cover the sun's rays. Even for just a little bit. 
Suguru doesn't tell Satoru. He pushes the burning in his chest, ignoring the itchiness in his fingers. Things are better this way, right? After all, the two of you come from completely different worlds. It's nonsensical to think otherwise. 
Two weeks before graduation, you disappear without a trace. 
And Satoru breaks. 
It's a slow dissent. It comes in stages. The boy is angry at first, searching for you at school, when he can't find you there he loses his facade and demands where you are from your parents. They can't give him a clear answer because you're an adult now and you barely told them a thing before moving out. Suguru doesn’t think they knew what Satoru was to you. He doesn’t think they ever will.
The heat fades day by day, Week by week. Satoru starts to deflate the longer you aren't in his hold, his to mangle, and grab, and keep. He stops taking care of himself. His skin became paler, cracked lips, hollow cheeks. His eyes turn into this grayish blue that Suguru can't bring himself to look at for too long. He loses weight day by day. 
Suguru had never seen him react this way before. Satoru was always shining. He was the sun. Now, the center of the solar system was dying. He can feel himself dying with it. 
Satoru hadn't just loved you. Satoru had been obsessed with you. He breathed you in, inhaled your essence like oxygen. You'd been a part of him; a necessity. And then, you tore yourself away, leaving him bleeding on the concrete.
Guilt. Suguru feels it in his stomach, rising to his throat, threatening to stain his clothes. It's too late to say anything now, so he keeps it huddled deep inside of him. Suguru hopes it'll never come out. He helps the best he can, being there for his friend, his best friend. 
It takes a month for Satoru to start eating properly again. A few months later he starts regaining his usual physique. The gray in his eyes stays for a bit longer than Suguru likes. Suguru supposes he should take what he can get.
A year passes like that. The evidence of what you left behind fades, like bruises disappearing on skin. Suguru and Satoru become college students. Then, they graduate.
When Satoru joins the business, Suguru, his right-hand man, his second, his best friend, is right next to him. They’ve always worked well together, but that doesn’t change as they shift into adulthood. Despite how different Suguru and Satoru were, Suguru liked to think that their personalities were stagnant; unchanging even to the times.
What Satoru feels about you remains stagnant as well.
Suguru doesn’t think about you often, these days. Barely a few times a year, when he feels nostalgic enough to get out his old high school yearbook. He’d page through, spot your smiling portrait face. He’d find himself staring at you far longer than he liked too.
At first, Suguru thought Satoru was the same. Much like how one thinks about a lost toy they cherished when they were younger. The resentment would fade with time. Satoru didn’t speak about you for years.
Suguru hadn’t expected the girls, however.
He doesn’t notice the first one. He sees her, but he doesn’t internalize it. She’s hurriedly putting on her clothes after a clearly exciting night, so Suguru respectfully averts his gaze. He’s more focused on his exasperation at how Satoru had missed yet another meeting with the board. They would be less than pleased if they discovered Satoru didn’t show up because he was hungover.
The second time it happens, Suguru has a passing thought of how familiar the girl looked, despite being sure he’d never seen her in his life.
The third time it happens, Suguru realizes all the recent girls Satoru’s been bringing strike an uncanny resemblance towards you.
It’s not anything too obvious, but all of them would look a bit like you. Most would have your skin tone, your hair. One had your eyes, not the color, rather the shape of it. Satoru had kept her around the longest.
Suguru doesn’t say anything about it. Part of him wonders if Satoru is even doing it on purpose.
Suguru loves Satoru like he would his own brother, but his recent hobby was starting to get on his nerves a bit.
“So much work,” the man complains, “Why can’t we just send all this off to Ijichi?”
“He has his own work to complete,” Suguru reprimands, “the sooner you stop complaining, the sooner we can finish.”
Satoru rolls his eyes but moves to another page of meaningless paperwork; Something that would be scanned into their system and then tucked away into a random file cabinet. They currently sat in Satoru’s grand kitchen, lounging on the barstools after Suguru had pounded Satoru’s door in. Satoru had let him in with an irritated look, complaining that it was the weekend and he had ‘stuff’ to do.
“He’s my assistant,” Satoru retorts, “my work is his work.”
“The reason why we’re in this mess in the first place is because you kept pawning off your job to the poor man in the first place. You’ve given him wrinkles from just the stress of being in your vicinity.”
“That’s insulting,” Satoru counters, “my presence is nothing but calming.”
“You do the exact opposite, actually. A black hole that sucks the soul out of everyone who hangs around you.”
“You hang around me all the time and you don’t have wrinkles.”
Suguru smiles. “It’s because I don’t respect you enough to listen to anything you’re saying.”
Satoru’s about to respond, when another voice interrupts him. Alluring, feminine.
“Satoru,” she coos, “When are you getting back here?”
From his seat, Suguru has a clear view of Satoru’s bedroom. Only her head is peeked out, and Suguru notes her bare shoulders. Your eyes, and your lips this time. She’s tilting her head, mouth curved in a coy smile.
Of course. Suguru can only roll his eyes. There’s that same burning feeling in his chest. During the years, it hasn’t really gotten any better.
“Coming, coming,” Satoru calls back, “just a minute, babe.”
“Stuff to do, hm?” Suguru drawls with amusement. Satoru flips him off.
"Worry 'bout yourself," Satoru says, "when's the last time you got any, huh? Honestly, when's the last time you've taken a break? A vacation?"
"I can't," Suguru replies, "I'm always stuck babysitting you."
“I’ve been waiting for half an hour, ‘Toru." The woman interrupts. "Can’t you just do it later?”
Suguru hadn’t even noticed it. He brushed it off, barely hearing their conversation as he shuffled around the papers.
Satoru had.
He hums. Straightening his back.
“Yeah, I’ve changed my mind. You should head on home.”
At first, he thought Satoru was talking to him. Then, he hears the woman’s annoyed huff.
“Hold on, you’re kicking me out?” She asks.
“Yeah, sorry,” Satoru says, not sounding very apologetic, “I got a lotta’ stuff to do and you’re not gonna wanna stick around.”
His tone is light, but Suguru can’t help but place a sense of annoyance in them. The anger. His posture is stiff, almost like he’s primed for a fight.
‘Toru. She called him ‘Toru.
You used to call him ‘Toru.
“Seriously, I-”
“I hate repeating myself: Get the fuck out.”
There’s silence, and then Suguru can hear her mutter to herself as she shuffles inside the room. She comes out minutes later, not quite dressed, but presentable. She shoots Satoru a glare, to which he only waves off. The door shuts with a noticable thud.
“Back to work,” Satoru says, “do you feel hot? The AC has been acting up, lately.”
He carries on like that, back to normal, as though he wasn’t about to snap just a few minutes ago. Suguru follows suit, not aknowledging the outburst, much like he doesn’t aknowledge most things regarding you.
Later, Suguru laughs about the hypocrisy of it all. Satoru brings home physical reminders of you, but he refuses the remnants of you. The most intimate parts, he’d kept hidden away from his life, yet he still wishes to touch, to feel. He wonders how you’d feel if you knew that Gojo Satoru is wrapped around your finger, even now.
Satoru had done something yet again. It's always something with Gojo Satoru. Suguru should have left him to deal with the legal team himself, but here he was, trailing beside the firm’s directors as the man droned on and on how well Mr.Gojo would be well taken care of how here our clients are family. He forces himself to push away that feeling in his chest, scorching his throat. He was getting sick of the constant blabbering. He’d glanced away for just a second.
And then he saw you.
You, not some remnant, not some picture, not someone similar. You. He knew it was you. A little older, a little taller. You’d switched the high school uniform for a blouse and a pencil skirt. Suguru stares. He’s tempted to say your name, seek you out, as though you’re old friends-
He reels himself back in.
You disappear through a frosted glass door, completely unaware of his gawking. You hadn’t seen him. Good. The firm’s director didn’t notice his pause, carrying on as though nothing happened. Suguru smiles and laughs at the horrible ice breakers, but he also steals a glance at the name of the door you went through.
Later, Suguru looks up Higuruma Hiromi. A well-established lawyer. Worked at the firm for nearly a decade.
You are his sole paralegal.
Law. He had never considered it for you. Now, he thinks it’s a little fitting. He can’t help it. He looks you up. You have no social media, most likely from a remnant fear, but he finds where you went to college, what your area of study was, where else you’d worked, your life. Questions he’d had for nearly a decade he finally has an answer.
Honestly, Suguru was a little mad it was all so easy.
He can’t see the entire scope of your life, but he knows you were happy after high school, away from Satoru. You seemed happy when he caught that glimpse of you. There was a slight smile on your face, you never did that with Satoru around.
Satoru’s a little pathetic, a thought he has to concede to. He’s still hung over you, while you clearly hadn’t thought of him in years.
Suguru stares at your picture a little more.
The burning feeling comes back again. Hotter, melting.
Oh.
Suguru is disgusted by you.
You, that bitch loitering in Satoru’s bedroom, that greedy firm director. Disgust, that sick feeling crawling down his stomach, seeping into his bones. He’s disgusted by the weak.
He’s even more disgusted when they think they can defeat the strong. Decieve them.
You always thought you were better than Satoru, better than Suguru, even from the beginning. Even when you rejected him. Even when Satoru’s goons were torturing you, you still thought you could get out of it somehow. Even when Satoru had his hand on your shoulder, claws sinking into your flesh, you were still looking for a way out. It was like watching a rat trapped in a cage, pathetically sniffing around for an exit.
The weak could never escape the whims of the strong. It was a truth of the world, something he’d always known and yet it’d take a decade for him to put the words together. The weak could never make a fool of the strong.
You are weak. A mere satellite floating along, before getting trapped in the Earth’s gravitational force. Suguru could crush you with one fist. Satoru could evisirate you to atoms.
Does the Earth ever wonder if it can turn the Sun?
“I’ve put together a legal team that will represent you.”
Suguru places the neat stack of documents onto Satoru’s desk. The white-haired man barely gives them a glance. Suguru knows Satoru won’t ever look at them, even when your name is hidden somewhere within the sheets, along with Higuruma’s. Suguru wonders how long it’d take for Satoru to figure it out. It’s a shame he won’t be there to see it unfold in real-time, but perhaps, once Satoru puts the pieces together, he’ll thank him.
Here, in the present, Satoru types away at his computer, barely paying attention to Suguru’s words.
“Oh, great,” Satoru says off handedly, “thanks, man.”
Suguru sighs.
“Uh, I love you?” Satoru tries again.
“Never repeat those words to me ever again,” Suguru responds, “I wish you’d be a bit more interested in this, considering it’s your fault the company is in this mess in the first place.”
Satoru gives a hushed hum of agreement. Suguru smiles.
“In other news: I won’t be here next week.”
That catches his best friend’s attention. Satoru gapes at him.
“You’re quitting?”
“No, idiot. I’m taking your advice. I’m taking a few weeks off. I already put it in the calendar that you never check so why did I even bother.”
“A vacation? You never take vacations, even when I beg you to,” Satoru squints at him, “What’s the occasion?”
Eventually, Satoru will figure it out. For now, Suguru wants to enjoy this.
“I worked hard this year. I should reward myself, shouldn’t I?” He reasons, “oh, and I have a surprise for you showing up in a week or so. Let me know what you think of it.”
“A gift? For me?” Satoru beams. “You really do love me.”
“Don’t push it.”
The Earth is the only planet capable of sustaining life within this cold solar system. It's close enough to the sun to feel the warmth, yet far enough so it doesn't burn. It's strong, too. A powerful magnetic forcefield, capable of shutting down the sun's cosmic radiation. Thus, the Earth spins happily around the Sun, surrounded by a sea of dead planets. 
If Satoru was the Sun, then Suguru supposed he would be the Earth. Close enough to receive the star's radiance, but with a strong enough magnetitic field to shield from solar winds. 
If Suguru was the Earth, then Suguru supposed you would be the Moon. A tiny cratered satellite he tugs along with him, forever in sight of the burning sun. 
2K notes · View notes
sehnsuchts-trunken · 4 months
Text
What Happens in Cars, Stays in Cars
dbf!jake seresin x fem!reader 9k words
summary: After a month-long deployment, Jake is finally coming back home. Well, not home home. You're too desperate to wait until you've actually got him home. But who needs home when there's a perfectly good car anyway?
a/n: porn with plot. a lot of plot. and a lot of porn. 18+ obviously. reader is twenty-five in this, jake is forty-seven. as always, a list of things to watch out for:
nudes. mentions of masturbation. pet names used in an unholy way. the word 'brat' is dropped twice. safe sex (yess they still have a condom!!! i feel like i deserve a round of applause for not forgetting it). car sex, so a tiny smidge of exhibitionism. dom!jake. a lot of begging, as always. a tad bit dry humping. first finger sucking, then fingering. any more, uh....? i don't think so. there's not much space in a car for anything else.
top gun masterlist | dbf!jake seresin masterlist
Tumblr media
(the gif has nothing at all to do with the fic, but tell me that's not dbf!jake working out in his backyard knowing you're watching him istg)
It's a one time thing. That's what they told him. A one time thing.
He isn't supposed to do these anymore. He's supposed to be stationed permanently, sitting in his office and doing what an admiral does. Important work, surely. It's a high honour and he's proud, of course. But office work... Office work has never really been his thing. And if they'd deployed him for this mission four months earlier, he would've been thrilled.
He's the best of the best. The navy knows. He knows. Which is why he's an admiral by now. And also why they want him coaching the new hotshots for a month, halfway across the country.
And, yes, he would've been thrilled - four months ago.
Four months ago, when you'd not yet moved back home. Four months ago, when he hadn't yet met you. Four months ago, when he hadn't known what it was like to hold you, to touch you, to miss you.
His phone chimes and momentarily distracts him. It's not that he didn't mute it - he's standing in front of a bunch of twenty-something year olds who he does try to be a role model for - it's just that you'd tampered with it once and ever since then, you've had a personalised ringtone that still somehow works even when everything else is muted. (He could totally turn that off if he wanted to, though. Definitely. Ab-so-lu-tely. He just... doesn't.)
His jaw clenches and he has to restart his sentence, but other than that, he manages to pretend nothing happened. Nonetheless, he has to glare at the snickering wannabe-pilots in the first row, who remind him very much of a young version of himself.
You're three hours ahead of him and probably just got off work. It's likely nothing but a sweet "having a good day?" message or maybe a photo of you all dressed up, ready for dinner with your friends like you'd planned.
Either way, knowing your message is sitting unopened in your chat has him talking quicker. He finishes his lecture half an hour early and fishes his phone from his pocket before the first of his pupils have even got up from their seats - which turns out to be a horrible, horrible idea, because the photo attached to "don't know how long i'll stay out, have a nice night, admiral" with the winky face emoji is not one of you all dressed up for a night out with your friends, but one of you in just a pair of panties in front of the mirror. The mirror in his bedroom.
Fucking god-
He seems to let out some kind of choked up groan or something of the sort, because a few of his pilots turn to look back at him. One even has the audacity to ask if he's alright, which he certainly isn't. But that's absolutely not their problem.
So he grumbles something about how they should all use their free time to go to the gym instead of bothering him before he collects his things and flees to his room. One of the many advantages of being an admiral, of course, is that he doesn't have to bunk anymore, which is always the greatest nuisance for anybody who's ever looking for privacy. The times he's had to listen to guys jack off a foot away from him- fuck, the times they'd had to listen to him.
No, right now he is incredibly thankful for the privacy of his bedroom as he locks the door behind him and opens his phone again. Goddamn, why were you in his house? His fingers hover over the call button for a few seconds, but then he decides against it - you're going out with friends for the first time in months, he doesn't want to bother you.
He's popping the button of his jeans and sitting down on his bed right as you come online.
"Like the pictures, baby? I've got more"
And before he can even respond, you've sent a bunch more selfies, half of them in front of his mirror, the other half on his bed and none of them decently clothed. Fucking hell, in one you've got your fingers down your panties and Jake is really thankful for the privacy of his room then because he groans so loudly that a bunkmate would definitely have heard.
"Are you still at dinner?", he asks, his fingers flying over his keyboard while he tugs at his zipper with his left hand.
"Yeah, won't be home soon", you write back. "Sorry"
"Don't be", Jake responds, as quickly as he can, because he definitely does not want to make you feel bad for spending time with your friends. "Have fun"
"Have fun with the pics", you send. Jake can picture your grin, sitting all dressed up in a restaurant and ignoring your friends to text him. "Thought those could maybe make up for no phone call tonight"
He swallows hard as you log off, leaving him with those pretty pictures of yours that certainly improve his night by a lot. Hell, he's already moving his briefs out of the way and clicking on your photos again. Just seeing you half-naked in his room - fuck, the thought of you sneaking over there only to do a goddamn photoshoot... You're really unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. And he can't wait to get back home to you.
...
"I miss you", you mumble into the phone, blinking at the alarm clock on your nightstand. It's eleven thirty, not nearly late enough for you to feel as exhausted as you do.
"I miss you too, darling", you hear Jake drawl on the other end of the call. "I'll be back soon."
"Not soon enough", you whine - god, you sound pathetic and miserable to your own ears already, you must sound ten times worse to him. You fall back onto your pillows and let out a deep sigh. "Would it be rude to say I hope the mission gets cancelled?"
Jake chuckles. Fucking hell, you miss that chuckle so much. You miss him so much. You miss cuddling up to him under the covers and tucking your head under his chin. You miss running your fingers through his hair and having your hands on him. You miss seeing him, standing in the kitchen or working out or tinkering in the backyard or fresh out of the shower. Shit, you even miss sneaking around with him, because at least then you'd gotten to watch him from a distance, maybe steal a kiss when your parents hadn't been looking or spend a night at his house pretending to be at your friend's.
Now he's halfway across the country and absolutely, completely out of reach. You'd barely gotten to see him at all - twice it had worked out to video-call during a lunch break, once he even managed to show you around his office after work. The camera quality is hardly any good, of course, which means video-calls aren't all that great, plus the connection never seems to really be stable, so with a few exceptions, you've only seen Jake in pictures over the past two and a half weeks.
His deployment would take another one and a half and then, finally, he'd be back home. Back home with you.
"I won't answer that", Jake says, and you can almost hear him grin. "But I wouldn't mind either if they moved the mission up."
You have to bite down on your lip to hide a smile.
"So you think you're good to go?", you ask softly, not wanting to bring the mood down further, instead opting for the non-classified work questions. You've already been bringing down the mood enough back here at home - you don't need to fill the few minutes a day you get with Jake with your whining as well. Your parents already hear enough of that. Of course, they don't know why you've been in such a bad mood ever since Jake left. And they can't know, either. You can't tell them. You can't tell anyone.
You can't tell anyone because no one knows that you've been sneaking around with your dad's best friend for the past three months. So you resign yourself to moping around and keeping out of everybody's way as much as you can. For one and a half week more, one and a half...
...
Exactly one and a half week later you're standing at the airport in your best heels and a little yellow sundress and are positively buzzing with nervous energy. Jake's plane would get in at half, he'd said, when you'd last spoken to him six hours earlier. Then the plane had taken off and so had his wifi.
You're playing around with a strand of your hair and doing your hardest not to start chewing off your nails, which proves more difficult than you'd thought (even though you'd put on nail polish).
You're just so excited.
It's been a month since you'd last seen him. A month. And at the early stage of your... relationship, if you could call it that, that's basically half a year. God, how long it's been since you've run your hands through his hair, since you've felt his arms around you.
You miss him so much.
Your phone chimes and you fish it out of your pocket with trembling hands, only to be disappointed when it's not a message from Jake. It's not like you'd told him to text when he'd landed, just... A part of you is kind of scared you're waiting in the wrong place. Maybe he's on the other end of the airport - it's not a particularly small one. It'd take you hours to find each other if you were waiting in the wrong place.
Then again - maybe the plane is late. Maybe he's had to wait for his luggage.
You check the time, just to be safe. It's 11:46. For all you know, Jake is still in the air. Or less than a door away.
You bounce on your feet, nervously shifting back and forth before checking your phone again. The text you'd gotten is from one of your friends, who you text back only to distract you. It barely works anyway. You can't put it away again quickly enough.
It's not even that you don't want to distract yourself. You just physically can't pay attention. You've been a nervous wreck for the past three days, ever since you'd made the plan to pick him up from the airport. Which is probably why you almost don't spot him.
Almost.
He walks through the opened doors with his suitcase rolling behind him, his backpack slung over his shoulder and at least five other people rushing past him.
He sees you before you see him.
But then, then when you see him-
You're already sprinting towards him before your mind even tells your legs to move. You can't control it and you can't be bothered to. Why would you?
You don't care about the people glancing at you with raised eyebrows. You only care about Jake, about Jake who's standing there, pulling his hand from the handle of his suitcase and grinning at you. Grinning at you as you run at him and throw yourself into his arms.
He catches you effortlessly and steadies you as you cross your hands behind his neck and press your lips to his.
God, how you've missed him! How long you haven't kissed him!
His palms flatten against your back and he holds you tight, so tightly to him. You push even closer. He's here. He's back.
You don't realise you're crying until you taste the tears.
That's when Jake pulls back.
"I've missed you", he mutters, raising a hand and brushing the tears off your cheeks. You lean into the touch and tighten your arms around his neck. You're really touching him. He's really here.
"I missed you too", you try to say, but you're choked up and crying and it somehow comes out a blubbering, stuttering mess that you're not quite sure Jake can even understand. "Missed you so much."
He smiles one of those gorgeous smiles that you haven't seen in far too long before he leans down and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. Your eyes flutter closed as you lean into him, your fingers trailing up the nape of his neck. His breath mingles with yours as he draws you in again and catches you in another kiss, tugging gently at your bottom lip as if he has all the time in the world to do it - slow and languid and real. Finally real again.
He pulls you in by your waist, his hands splayed wide and so, so big against your thin sundress. Your nails scratch against his neck and he lets out a groan and suddenly, he's got his hands on your thighs and you're wrapping your legs around his middle and tightening your arms around him and his lips are working against yours feverishly, heavily, messily. You're crossing your feet behind his back when one of them hits something hard. You've flinched away from him even before you can hear the dull crash of his suitcase kissing the airport floor.
There's blood rushing in your ears and you're sure if someone measured your heart rate right now, you'd be sent to the ER immediately. You probably look like a tomato with all the redness in your cheeks. But Jake stares at his suitcase silently for two seconds too, breathing heavily as his grip on you tightens further.
As much as he likes having you in his arms, his suitcase reminds him that you're still very much in the middle of a well-used airport. So he turns back to you and lowers his voice.
"I think we should get out of here, darling."
Your lips tug up into a grin and you lean in to give him just one last, quick kiss.
"Yeah", you breathe, carefully jumping back down onto your own feet. Jake lets go of you only reluctantly - if this wasn't a public airport, he'd never have let you go again. But it is, so he swallows hard as you brush your palms down your dress and blink up at him with a smile.
You're wearing heels. You're still shorter than him by quite a bit.
His amusement melts into a frown when you grab the handle of his suitcase.
"I've got that", he says, reaching his hand out to take the suitcase from you, but you're already maneuvering it away from him and starting to walk in the direction (you think it's the right direction) you'd parked your car in.
"I want to do it for you", you hum.
"Sweetheart, you're already doing enough for me", he says, and he really does mean it. You've driven all this way to come pick him up, you'd watered his plants while he'd been away, you'd even cleaned. That one mostly because you'd desperately needed something to do and Jake's house had always smelled like him, but still.
"Doing enough to you, you mean." Your grin borders on lewd as you dig your teeth into your lip.
"Yeah, that too", he sighs, but he has to grin as well. You're absolutely unbelievable. Instead of trying to argue (he knows it'd be fruitless anyway), he wraps an arm around your back and pulls you into his side, his hand resting on your waist again.
You glance at him.
"I'm not letting go of this suitcase", you warn, even as you lean into his side and swallow. God, he looks so good. And he smells so good. And he feels so good.
"Got it", he chuckles, brushing a kiss to your temple and pulling you even closer into him. He can't have you close enough. Does this fucking airport not have an end? He just needs a little more privacy, a little more space-
"This way", you say and point right. Jake smiles at you as you guide him down the halls. He can't help but watch, can't help but stare at you, at your dress in that soft shade of yellow and your matching heels. Autumn doesn't seem to have caught up with you yet. Then again - autumn hasn't caught up with this place yet. And he's used to Texas heat, he likes that it doesn't get cold here. Also, those sundresses... Yeah, he certainly isn't complaining about the weather.
You speed up when you finally catch sight of the doors, dragging him along with you, almost falling into a jog. The suitcase rumbles against the airport floor, the wheels click-clacking over uneven ridges and bumps and then, thank god, you feel the sunshine on your skin. His hand tightens around your waist.
"Home sweet home", you grin as you take the first step onto concrete. You swivel around and steady both palms against the handle of his suitcase behind your back, bouncing on your heels and looking up at him. "After about a three hour drive."
Jake chuckles and looks back at you with raised eyebrows.
"You'll drive?", he asks. You hum.
"Maybe", you grin as you turn away again and walk over to your car, parked only three rows away for whatever holy reason. You'd been incredibly lucky. And you'd almost run over a grandma. "Or maybe not."
Jake follows you with another low chuckle that sends a pleasant tingling sensation down your spine. It's been so long since you heard that chuckle behind you.
He's next to you again within a few long strides, reaching out for you and you slow your steps to intertwine your fingers with his.
His hands are so big. He's holding onto you so firmly. Fuck, you've missed him so much.
You squeeze his hand and walk a little quicker. Car, home. Car, home. That's it. Then you've got him all to yourself. You can see the car glinting in the sunlight already - and then it's three hours. Three hours next to him in an enclosed space before you've truly got him back.
You stop and let go of his suitcase to fish the car keys out of your pocket without dropping his hand. You push the unlock button and open up the trunk before you turn to Jake and grin at him.
You want to say something, really. It's on the tip of your tongue, still running through your mind, but you've completely forgotten it when you look up at him.
Because while you'd been dragging him to the car, he'd pulled his sunglasses out and put them on and for whatever reason... That kind of does it for you. Holy shit.
"Are those new?", you ask hoarsely and swallow hard, the car keys digging into your palm as you tighten your fist around them. Maybe it's just that you haven't seen him in a month. Or maybe it's the way the sunlight catches his hair, slightly longer than when he'd left. Maybe it's just that with the sun behind him, you've got no choice but to squint at his broad shoulders.
"The other pair broke", Jake explains, letting go of your hand only to wrap his arms around your waist. Fuck, you're just standing there, doing absolutely nothing and he already can't keep from touching you. He has to touch you. He's got to put his arms around you and pull you close. "Why? Don't like it?"
You steady your palms against his chest and let out a breath as your eyes drop to his lips - he's got that cheeky look on his face that's not really a grin but not really not a grin and that nobody but him can do.
"I do", you counter, because it's the truth, and there's no way you can lie to him. "I very much do."
"Very much?" Jake does grin then, raises his eyebrows and pulls you fully against him. "That's more than just a yes."
Your fingers fist his shirt, the car keys digging into his chest just as firmly as they're digging into your palm now. He doesn't seem to be too bothered. He really isn't too bothered.
"They look good on you", you mutter, pulling him even closer. It's been too long since you'd pulled him close... And he feels so good, smells so good, looks so good. Fuck, he's so big and broad and-
"Thanks", he mutters, his grin all cheeky and self-assured and god, is it really this hot? Do you just feel this hot? Because you feel really, really hot. Your skin is burning. How the hell are you supposed to manage a three hour car ride?
"Jake", you whimper, without even meaning to. It's barely above a breath, barely above a whisper, and still too much of a whine to sound anything close to appropriate. A sort of grunt leaves his lips before his arms tighten around you, before he slots his mouth over yours hard. His thumbs drag circles against the small of your back, catching on the fabric of your dress. Your fingertips dig into his shirt, into his chest.
The sun beams down on you, warming your thighs and your arms and every exposed inch of skin, brightness behind closed eyelids as you push further and further into him. He's so sturdy, all hard abs right in front of you, broad arms around you.
You don't even notice the breathless moan that escapes your tongue. You can only feel the heat boiling inside of you, the desperate heat inside of you crawling up your body, every inch of you burning. Burning with want for him. With need for him. Fuck, he's been gone for way too long.
And then he pulls back.
You need a few seconds to even blink yourself back to reality.
"Home?", he suggests, even though it's less of a suggestion and more just a fact. He's getting you home. Now.
"Please", you whine, already halfway through pulling back and dropping the car keys into his palm. Three hours. Three fucking hours, you... You simply won't manage to sit down behind the steering wheel with your skin crawling and your underwear soaked through.
You'll barely manage sitting in the passenger seat.
Jake presses another kiss against your temple before he grabs his suitcase and leaves you standing there, trying to pull yourself together. He's breathing hard and his muscles are tight, his jaw clenched as he heaves his suitcase into the trunk and drops his backpack into it right after.
You force your legs to work, to carry you to the passenger side, force your arm to raise and your hand to close around the handle. It's heavy and hard work. Your body feels leaden, entranced. You let yourself collapse onto the seat and close your eyes.
Fuck.
You'd forgotten how much... how easily...
"Seatbelt, darling", Jake reminds you as he climbs into the driver's seat and adjusts it. You swallow hard and strap yourself in, trying to even out your breathing and pull yourself back to reality while you fumble for the confirmative click.
"Three hours", you remind yourself breathily.
"Three hours", Jake agrees lowly and turns the key in the ignition.
You settle back in your seat and close your eyes, clenching and unclenching your jaw as the radio starts playing and the car rolls out of the parking lot. You just have to relax. Just relax. Relax.
So you breathe out deeply and open your eyes again. Jake glances over at you as you lean forward, flick through the radio channels and then adjust in your seat - it's touching too much, too little of your skin, and the way you're rubbing against it somehow doesn't help in the slightest.
Before you can tuck one of your legs under the other and press the heel of your foot against your core, Jake puts his hand against your thigh. Against your bare thigh. His big fucking hand against your bare thigh.
You bite down on your lip and look up at him.
God, he looks so good. His features are chiseled, his hair that sunny, beachy kind of blond-
"Stop that", Jake grunts, his eyes trained on the road in front of him. It takes you two seconds to even realise he's talking to you. You'd kind of lost yourself in staring at him there.
"Stop what?", you ask, voice hitching as his fingers tighten on your thigh. Damn it, he needs to stop that. He's hardly been driving five minutes, he can't already be teasing you.
For once, actually, he doesn't even mean to tease you - not that you know. He just can't help but touch you, not when he hasn't touched you in a month, not when you're sitting so deliciously, tauntingly next to him.
"Stop looking at me like that", he says, taking his hand off of you to change gears before grabbing even tighter onto you again. "Or I'll have to pull over."
You brush your fingers along his wrist. Your chest feels tight, so tight. It takes everything in you not to push his hand further up your thigh. And you'd actually thought you'd manage a three hour car ride.
"I'll stop", you breathe, even though pulling over doesn't seem like the worst idea. "If you want me to."
A muscle twitches in his jaw.
"Don't do that", he warns, his voice staggering into that indecent gruff of his that has you clenching your thighs together, trapping his fingertips between your legs.
"Don't do what?", you ask, trying your best to sound somewhat innocent while you continue this little taunting game, not as though you're deliberately riling him up. You aren't, really. It's more just a reflex.
He turns his head to you then. His eyes are narrowed and his jaw is clenched and honestly, the way he's meeting your gaze all serious, as though he's trying to reprimand you just by looking at you - for no more than three seconds, of course, before he drags his eyes back to the road - has your lips tugging up in a teasing grin.
"Jake", you whisper, drawing your nails slowly up his arm, all the way from his wrist to his elbow. "Baby. You've been away for so long. You know how lonely I've been, right?"
Jake glances at you again and grunts his agreement, eyebrows raising as he starts to realise what you're doing.
"You can't blame me for looking at you", you go on, digging your fingertips into a spot right above his elbow and drawing one, two circles there. "Or for touching you."
Then you shift in your seat, spread your legs a little and run your fingers down his arm again. You grab his hand and brush his fingertips against the soaked spot on your panties.
"Or for being this wet", you whisper, your breath hitching from the sting in your stomach. He lets out a low curse. "I've just missed you so much."
He sucks in a breath then and trails his fingertips up your panties once, just once, before he jerks his hand back and clenches it hard around the steering wheel, so hard that his knuckles turn wide. Fuck. Fuck! Fuck! You're driving him crazy. You're driving him fucking crazy.
He's supposed to be responsible here. Somewhat responsible. You're young, you've got that risky twinkle in your eyes that he knows so well because he'd seen it in the mirror himself for over twenty years. He knows the thrilling buzz that's running through your veins. He still feels it whenever he's in the air. And he feels it around you.
Which is why he's not responsible, not when it comes to you. Not when you're sitting next to him in that pretty dress, with no shorts on and completely fucking soaked through.
You grin to yourself as he pulls off the highway and bite down on your lip, shifting in your seat once more, fighting the urge to trail your own fingers into your panties.
You haven't even asked how his deployment had been.
But goddamn, you'll have enough time to do that once you've got home. Or got off. Or got him off. At this point, you don't fucking care.
He pulls into one of those parking lots that mainly trucks use, one of those where there's hardly ever a toilet and if, then one that hasn't been usable since the last century. Right now, there's two trucks right at the front that Jake just brushes past. He parks your car at the far end and turns the motor off.
The silence is heavy.
Your breath comes much too quickly. Your eyes are fixed on him. And every inch of your skin is crawling with heat. But you don't move. You can't move.
He rolls his seat all the way back.
"Jake-", you whisper, catching on his name when he looks up and meets your eyes. There's a ghost of a grin on his lips, but... Maybe you're wrong.
"Yes, darling?", he asks, raising his eyebrows and leaning back in his seat. You have to strain your neck to keep looking at him. Instead of an answer, you just softly shake your head. You're suddenly unsure of what to say. His eyes weigh you down. You're painfully aware of every inch of your skin under his watchful gaze.
"Come on", he drawls, the grin that's growing on his lips more obvious now. "You were all eager to talk just then, baby."
Your teeth catch on your lip as you let out a breathless sigh. Your fingers hover over the buckle of your seat belt. Can you? Or...
"I missed you", you whisper, letting your fingertips glide over the hard plastic. "Can I-"
You swallow.
"Can you what, darling?", he repeats, grinning widely now.
You chew on your lip as you push down and unbuckle yourself slowly, your eyes still trained on Jake, who simply watches you with raised eyebrows.
"Can I touch you?", you whisper, your breath disappearing into the thick air of the car, the seatbelt still caught between your fingers. The corners of his mouth only tug up further.
You look angelic with your wide eyes and rosy cheeks, so obviously desperate to feel him - but still you don't move. You sit there and wait for him to tell you what to do. To allow you to do something. Anything. It's almost endearing how well behaved you are in moments like this.
"Go on, darling", he drawls. "Come here."
Without hesitation, you reach over the centre console and grab onto his shoulders, steadying yourself against him as you throw one of your legs over his and climb into his lap. His hands find your waist, grab onto your sides, hold you softly against him. Your teeth dig into your lip as you sink down, your fingers trailing along the outline of his collarbones over his shirt, your dress riding up and pooling around your hips. You suck in a breath when your panties drag against his jeans.
Fuck. It's been so long. It's been way too long.
"Jake", you mutter as you lean in, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth, brushing your nose against his cheek. "You look good."
He lets out a breathy chuckle, his grip on you tightening.
"I know, darling", he can't help but say with a grin. "Thanks."
You giggle onto his skin as you trail your lips down his jaw. Sometimes he's incredibly unbelievable. I know. How cocky. Not that he shouldn't be - goddamn, he should be! You can't even fault him. And confidence is sexy. Especially on him. Though, then again, anything on him is sexy.
"I've missed you", you mutter, pressing another open-mouthed kiss against his skin, this time against the spot between his neck and his ear. "Missed looking at you. Missed touching you."
"Yeah", Jake breathes, digging his hands into your hips and pulling you harder onto him. "I've missed you too."
He's missed you so fucking much that he's hurting, straining against his jeans so hard that he feels like he might combust. And you're kissing down his throat, pressing your lips against his skin, wanting, needing to touch him, to feel him-
A month away from each other. A month too long.
"I need you, Jake", you whimper into his ear, all breathy and desperate, rocking softly back and forth in his lap and letting your eyes fall shut.
"You need me, baby?", he echoes, grabbing you as tightly as he can and dragging you against him, his head thumping back against the seat.
A filthy moan slips past your lips as your hips roll against his, finally, for the first time in weeks. God, yes, you need him so badly. You need him now. Here and now, in the driver's seat of your car.
"Please, Jake", you breathe, steadying one palm against his chest and grabbing one of his hands with the other. You wrap your fingers around his wrist and tug it off of you, but before you can drag it down to your panties again, drop it between your legs and beg him to fuck you, before you can do any of that, he's turning your grip around and taking your hands in his instead.
"You're getting ahead of yourself, baby", he chuckles, settling your hands against your thighs. He's painfully hard by now, yes- But that doesn't mean you can just drag him to where you want him. "Seems like you forgot your manners."
You're already shaking your head before he can finish. No, you haven't, you haven't, you just need him so badly... and you can feel him, you can feel that he needs you too, so why doesn't he just take you? Why doesn't he-
"I haven't, Jake, I promise", you whisper, looking at him and forcing yourself to still on his lap. It won't help you if you move. It definitely won't help you if you move.
"You haven't?", he asks with raised eyebrows, looking all but amused at you. You keep shaking your head no, no, no. "So if I'd told you to stay in your seat and wait, you would've?"
You bite down on the inside of your cheek and look away. He's grinning. He knows. He's not even really asking. But if you've learnt anything, anything at all about him, it's that he doesn't like to be ignored. If he asks a question, he wants it answered. So you'll answer.
"No", you breathe truthfully, because you most definitely wouldn't have managed a three hour car ride next to him. There's no way you would've managed a three hour car ride next to him. No fucking way.
His grin widens.
"No", he repeats lowly. "No, darling? You wouldn't have listened?"
"Couldn't", you correct, fighting the desire to rock against his thighs that's growing with every passing second. He looks so fucking good. He smells so fucking good. He feels so fucking good. And he'd fuck you so good, you know that, if he'd just finally get to it.
"Couldn't", he echoes, his fingertips rubbing circles onto the bare skin of your thighs. "That desperate."
It's just that he's that desperate, too. Desperate to feel you wrapped around him, desperate to hear you whimper and moan. He needs you as much as you need him.
"You want me to fuck you, baby?", he asks, all smooth and casual and your fingers dig into your thighs to feel something, anything. It's unbelievable how easily something so dirty slips off his lips.
"Yes", you gasp. "Want you so bad, Jake. Please. I'll be so good for you. I'll be perfect."
A muscle ticks in his jaw.
"You are perfect", he breathes, even though that hadn't been his plan at all. But he has to say it. He has to tell you. You've got him wrapped around your little finger, even if you don't know. And he's not all that sure you don't know anyway.
Your teeth catch on your lip, your hands dig harder into your skin and-
And Jake's thumbs trail along the inside of your bare thighs, brushing up naked skin, drawing a shallow breath from your tongue. A shiver runs down your spine as you clench your legs around his and force yourself to keep still. He's touching you. You have to remind yourself of that. He is touching you. There's no reason at all for the urge to defy him, to pop open his jeans and just sink down on him. He's touching you, he's touching you...
Yeah. Barely.
"Let me feel you", you beg, drawing your hands away from your thighs and trying to put them against his chest - but before you can, he's pulled his hands away from your thighs as well and grabbed your wrists. Again.
"You're not in charge here, darling", he chuckles, pushing your hands back down. He grabs for your waist again. "If you can't behave, I'm gonna put you back in the passenger seat and keep on driving, got that?"
You nod.
You want to be good for him. You will be good for him. God, there's no fucking way you could have managed the car ride already, and if you had to sit through it now, after this- No. You'll be good for him. You'll be so good for him.
He flashes you a grin and goes back to dragging his thumbs along your thighs.
"Ask nicely", he says. "Maybe I'll-"
"Please", you blurt out, your hips involuntarily bucking into his touch. "Can I kiss you?"
His eyes drop down to your mouth then.
"Yeah, baby", he mutters, his thumbs catching on the hem of your dress. "You can kiss me."
He expects you to jump at him, to slot your lips over his and lick into his mouth eagerly - but you only steady your palms carefully against his chest and lean in, your eyes focused on his, your breath meeting his skin. You kiss him softly, lightly, with your lips just so grazing his and your eyes fluttering shut. His fingertips run down the soaked spot on your panties.
That's when your teeth catch on his lip. You sink them into his skin gently and tug, your heart missing a beat as he groans into you. He hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them to the side just like you'd hoped, just like you'd begged for.
Jake's right - you're not in charge. But that doesn't mean you don't know what buttons to push to get what you want.
His fingertips trail through your wetness for the first time in a whole fucking month. It's long overdue. So long.
You moan into him, pressing your chest right up against his and fisting his shirt, and push closer. You need to be this close. You need to be even closer. You need him to fuck you, now, not only to drag his fingers up to your clit.
But he's too focused on you, getting too drunk on the feeling of you. He's finally got you here again, finally on his lap again, finally kissing him again, finally eager for him again. He's finally touching you again. And he has to touch you.
You're so fucking wet. You're soaked. He wants to take his time to notice that. He needs to take his time to notice that. He needs to touch you, to feel you. He doesn't even mean to tease you. He doesn't even realise he is teasing you. Not until you rock into his hand and let a whine slip into his mouth.
You really don't intend to. It's an accident. You don't want to rush him. What you want is to be good for him. But you can't help yourself.
And he knows you can't.
Which is the only reason he doesn't pull back and leave you high and dry. Well, that - and his desperation to have you.
So instead, he pushes two fingers into you and catches the languid moan you let out. Fuck. You sound so sweet. You feel so perfect. It's been so fucking long.
"Jake", you whimper, just because it's also been that fucking long since you've whined his name into his mouth. Into the low-quality mic of your phone, yes. But with his lips on yours? With his fingers thrusting inside you so precisely, hitting the right spot immediately? No, that's been too fucking long.
It's dirty. Not quick, like the other times neither of you had been patient enough to look for a better spot to have each other and had opted for the car instead. No, it's just dirty, with his fingers pumping in and out of you, his tongue running along yours and your knees rubbing against the seat.
Maybe it's because the radio had turned off alongside the car, or maybe it's just the long month you'd spent apart - either way, all sounds are louder than they should be, your ears ringing with your moans, your wetness around his fingers and his lips against yours.
Goddamn.
He's working magic. You don't know how he hits the right spot again and again and again, his fingers curling, his thumb catching on your clit - but he has you clenching around him, warmth pooling in your core, wetness dripping down your thighs and onto his jeans within minutes.
You pull an inch away from him, your eyes still squeezed shut, your palms flattening against his shirt, and the only reason he knows he isn't just dreaming of you again is because you're warm and wet around his fingers. Everything else about you is unreal.
You're gorgeous. You're so damn stunning, rocking your hips back against him and moaning his name, your lips parted and your skin sweaty.
"Fuck", you pant, your chest rising and falling so tantalisingly that his eyes drop right down to your cleavage. "Just like that."
He has to grin to himself, but he lets it slide, if only because you're looking so pretty holding onto him as he pushes his fingers into you and circles your clit - just like that. Again and again, until you're digging your nails into his chest and catching your lip between your teeth and moaning his name, Jake, baby, fuck, fuck, fuck, until you're clenching around him and shuddering in his arms, until you're reaching your high not on your own, but on his fingers for the first time in four full weeks.
"Attagirl", he mutters, straining so hard against his pants that it hurts. "I've got you."
You press your lips against his jaw sloppily as you come down, your breath shallow, your skin burning, just needing to get your mouth on him. You can feel your heart beating, every thud, thud, thud against your chest. God. You hadn't come like that in a month. You'd come, sure, to the low rumble of his voice over the phone, calling you all sorts of sweet names and telling you just how to get off for him. But nothing could ever possibly beat the way he works you.
And still - even as you come down from your orgasm, you already crave the next, long and lust and hunger for him inside of you, not his fingers, but his cock.
"Jake", you mewl, slotting your lips over his and desperately dragging your tongue over them before you draw back an inch, your breath meeting his. "Fuck me? Please?"
He pulls his fingers out of you and raises his hand and before you can even really realise what you're doing, you're parting your lips and watching as he grins and presses his fingertips down on your tongue. God, he fucking tastes like you. You suck his fingers into your mouth obediently and lick them clean, looking at him out of lowered, half-lidded eyes and he fucking grabs at your waist with his other hand like his life depends on it.
Goddamn, it's been too long since he's watched this. Since he's had this sight in front of him. And holy mother of hell, what a sight that is.
Your cheeks hollowed out, your gaze caught on his, your lips wrapped around his fingers. His jeans are too tight. Too fucking tight. He needs relief. Now.
So he pulls his fingers out of your mouth with a low grunt and fumbles with the button of his jeans, quick and hurried. He's barely popped it open before your hands slip between his and push them out of the way. You drag down his zipper, reach into his briefs, finally, finally, finally! and he lets you, steadying his palms against your thighs and watching you tug your lip between your teeth.
"Condom", you breathe, then you glance up at him and blink - once, twice, thrice to get yourself back to reality. Condom. Condom, fuck, you're sure you've got one, you know you've got one, somewhere-
Jake takes his hand off your thigh and reaches for his pocket, pulling out a condom before you've even finished thinking.
You grab it from him almost reflexively, your fingers closing around it, tearing it open - quick and frenzied now, because you're not sure how much longer you can hold out. How much longer you can manage without having him.
You glance up at him before you roll it onto him, waiting, checking, if you can, if he'll let you- And how could he not? Fuck, he's got to clench his jaw and grab onto your waist just to hold back, to stay still. He hadn't meant for it to be like this. He'd meant to fuck you back at home, slow and steady, preferably in bed where he could really see you, where he could see every inch of you, not in the front seat of your car that he'd probably have to get cleaned tomorrow. But he can't fucking help himself. He can barely fucking wait until you've rolled the condom onto him, already grabbing at your bare thighs, slipping his hands below your dress, grasping at your stomach.
You steady your palms against his chest and breathe out a whine as his fingers slide across your boobs, pushing the fabric of your dress up, up, up, circling your nipples and damn, you've missed him. You've missed him so fucking much. It's been so fucking long. And you're so fucking desperate.
So you slowly sink down on him and let out a moan, rolling off of your tongue so filthily that he has to groan. Shit, shit- You hold yourself against him, drop your head against his shoulder and an open-mouthed kiss onto his skin.
"Fuck", he grunts, his fingers working frenzied circles onto your boobs, trying, desperately, no, needing to touch you, to feel you. God, you feel so good around him. Finally around him again. You take your time sinking down on him, catching your breath and pressing your lips against his neck, your eyes squeezed shut. Inch by inch, you take him - and the only way he can keep from bucking up into you is by trying not to concentrate on the way you feel around him (so, so fucking perfect), but instead do his best to breathe. Just... breathe. It's been too fucking long. And you're too fucking pretty. And he'll go fucking crazy.
"Jake", you mewl, your lips dragging against his jaw.
Instead of an answer, he turns his head and catches you in a kiss.
You whine into his mouth, your legs clamping around his, stilling as you adjust, your tongue running along his lips, his teeth, your hands fisting his shirt, clenching and cramping and pressing against his chest.
"Go on", he urges, pulling away no more than an inch, his breath shallow, mingling with yours. "Take what you want, darling."
"Fuck", you breathe, arching into his palms and steadying yourself against him, your teeth catching on your lip as you move - up, slowly, steadily, then down, faster, quicker, and again, and again. Holy hell. Moan after moan rolls off your tongue. He feels so fucking good. You're so fucking full of him. You find a rhythm, then that spot inside of you. Your head tilts back, your fingers clench into the collar of his shirt, your nails scratch against his skin.
He watches you, every inch of him tensing. You're gorgeous, so damn gorgeous, bouncing in his lap like this. You're stunning, your dress pooling around your hips as he drags his hands back down to your waist, thumbing at your stomach, circling and drawing against your skin. He's touching you. Now, here. It's not just a dream. It's not just his imagination. It's you, you, wrapped around him, moving up and down him, your palms against his chest, your eyes fluttered shut, your teeth digging into your lip.
"Just like that, keep going", he encourages, all low and deep, smooths his hands down your body and can't help but grin as you let out a soft mewl. It's been so long since he's heard you whine for him - so long since he's heard it without hundreds and hundres of miles between you, without the microphone ruining what have to be the sweetest sounds he's ever known. "Feeling good, baby?"
The air is heavy, heavy and sticky. It presses down on you, pushes against your skin, settles on your body and flattens your breath. Every single one of your nerve ends is on fire.
"Yes", you gasp, your eyes fluttering open to take him in, him in all of his very, very real glory right in front of you. He looks so handsome, so fucking handsome. Your thighs tighten, clench. You can feel yourself growing closer and closer and closer with every stroke, with every time you sink down on him. Fuck, he doesn't just feel good, he feels heavenly. He feels like everything you need. "So good, Jake."
The grin on his lips sends sparks through your body. It's confident, self-assured... Yeah, you're on top of him, you're moving, you're taking what you want - but he's in charge, you can see it in his eyes. He's in control. It's in the way he breathes, in the way his hands grab at your hips, in the way he palms at your skin. If it weren't for the red on his cheeks, for the sweat beading on his forehead, you wouldn't even have guessed he's all that affected. But he's hard, he's hard as a rock, and it's taking everything in him not to just buck up into you and come right on the spot.
He prides himself on his stamina. In all his years, he's always prided himself on his stamina - on how he can keep going long enough to make you come twice, thrice. And he'll hold out now, too.
But you're gorgeous. And you feel perfect. And you're close, you're clenching around him as you lean in to press your lips to his, to slot your mouths together and kiss him with all your might.
So you're not making it easy for him. Not at all.
He brushes his hand down to the inside of your thigh, leaves a trail of tingles on your skin before his finger finds your clit. You breathe out a whine that he easily catches on his tongue, your nails digging into his chest as he draws circles on your clit, on that sensitive bundle of nerves that has you melting, your eyes squeezing, squeezing, squeezing shut.
Fuck, fuck, you're close, you're close-
Just for a fleeting second, Jake debates pulling his hand away again and leaving you there, on this edge you're teetering on. Not forever, only until you'd got home or so. But he's too desperate to come, too wound up already, too close himself, and there's a much bigger part of him that wants to just fill you up in the driver's seat of your car, in this random parking lot, a month after he'd last had you. The part of him that will revel in knowing that you'll be sitting in the passenger seat for the next three hours with soaked panties, probably leaving behind a wet patch when you'll get out, the evidence of two orgasms right there-
"Fuck, Jake", you gasp and your head rolls back, your lips parting as your entire body clenches, every single muscle cramping and tightening at once, your nails digging hard and harder into his skin, your eyes squeezing shut. His finger on your clit doesn't still, just keeps drawing circles, keeps guiding you through your high, through the foggy haze you're swimming in as your body writhes and tingles.
Jake is too entranced, too enamoured, too captivated by you to even realise he's spilling inside the condom, coming as you do. He can't feel, can't see, can't touch anything but you - his hand grabs at your hip, it palms at your thigh. Anything to feel you. Anything to be with you as you unravel.
"Jake, fuck", you breathe, a lot more softly now. Your grip on him loosens. He'd barely noticed how your nails had still been digging into his chest, but now that you're pulling them away, stretching your fingers and steadying your palms flat against him, he can't help but miss them. You blink at him with the sweetest smile, your lips plush and kiss-swollen, and the view of you is so disarming that he can just so resist opening his mouth and letting those final three words roll off his tongue. But it's too early, it's way too early, even as you're sitting in his lap, even as you're squeezing his cock, even as he draws his finger away from your clit. He's never been the type to say it early. He won't now.
No, instead he raises his hand and rests his fingers against your lips. Once more today, you part them obediently and wait until he's pushed them onto your tongue. Then you close your mouth around them - he still tastes of you faintly - and suck, slathering them in saliva in that sloppy, messy, dirty way you know he likes, your head bobbing as you clean them off. You pull back just far enough to dig your teeth into his fingertips and bite down on them playfully.
Your lips tug into a grin as he draws his hand back, eyebrows raising, his gaze settling on you - still so very heavy, so intense, so fucking full of sex.
"You're a brat, darling", he chides, but he's already brushing strands of hair out of your face, tucking them behind your ears and then wrapping his arms around you to pull you even closer, even tighter to him. Your grin only grows as your fingers clench into the collar of his shirt.
"Maybe", you laugh breathily, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his lips, one that's so addicting he thinks he might need to stay in this car, in this parking lot for the rest of eternity. "But you love it."
Jake chuckles as he chases after your lips.
"Such a brat."
1K notes · View notes
sp0o0kylights · 1 year
Text
Part Two / Part Three
Ao3
It's 8:45 am. 
The Red Barn, which is neither red nor a barn, has been open since 7, catering to the early morning crowd with rounds of coffee and pancakes.
It was no Benny's, but given the size of Hawkins and the lack of alternatives?
No one was complaining. 
They were all too happy someone had opened up another watering hole for the working class man (or lass, as Foreman Shelly will dutifully remind you) which meant the place was packed with both day and night shift regulars, passing each other in staggered waves. 
It also meant Wayne was sharing the packed breakfast counter with a warehouse worker by the name of John Cheese on one side and Police Chief Jim Hopper on the other.
He doesn't mind it.
Wayne's a man on a budget thinner than his shoelace, but he's also a man who understands that small indulgences need to be made in life or you didn't truly live it.
This is how he convinces himself to get a coffee at the Barn after work everyday, reading the morning newspaper and chatting with the other regulars before he heads home.
Bonus, it gets him out of the rapid-fire franticness that is his nephew in the mornings.
(All the love in the world wouldn't change the fact that all that Eddie came with a lot of noise. 
The kind of noise that was a tried and true recipe for a headache right after a long shift.)
As a trade off, Wayne went to bed early so he could wake up in time for dinner with Eddie.
 It was a nice little system that worked for them. 
A routine Wayne was reminiscing fondly on, when the pager on Chief Hopper started to chirp. With a sad moan, the man fished out a few crumbled bills and threw them on the counter, abandoning his coffee to trudge out to his truck.
This was not unusual.
Particularly recently, given they were but a scant few weeks past that whole mall ordeal. A fact all too easy to remember when one caught sight of the Chief’s still healing face. 
What was unusual, was when he came storming through the doors a minute later, face now a furious shade of red with his hat clenched in his hand. 
The energy in the room shifted, taking on something a little watchful as Hopper swept his gaze from side to side, like a dog on the hunt.
Judging by the way he stilled when he caught sight of Wayne, the latter assumed he found what he was looking for and could only pray it was the person behind him. 
(He liked John, but Wayne had enough trouble this year and he wasn't looking for any more.) 
"Munson." Hopper called, striding over and dashing all his hopes. There was a choked fury emitting off him, and given the way John audibly scooted his chair away, Wayne knew everyone had clocked it. 
"Chief." Wayne greeted, inclining his head towards him.
Idly he wondered what the hell his nephew had done this time.
'So help me if he stole all the town's lawn flamingos and put them in that damn teachers yard again….'
Wayne didn't even get to finish his threat, the Chief was already next to him. 
"Mind if I have a word outside?" 
Dammit Eddie.
"Ah hell, what's he done now?" Wayne asked with a sigh, eyeing the coffee he had left morosely. 
There was still almost half of it left and the pot had tasted fresh for once. 
"What?" Hopper said, and then Wayne got to watch as the man ran through an entire chain of thoughts, each one punctuated by things like; "Oh," and "No. " 
"This is something else." He finished, flushed and fidgeting, anger making him antsy. 
Wayne stared up at him. 
"Something else?" He repeated, not sure he heard.
"Yes, something else." Hopper snapped impatiently, before leaning forward, voice dropping low. "This doesn't involve your nephew, but we both know you owe me for how many times I've let that kid off, Wayne. That's a damn big favor I've been doing you and I'm calling it in." 
If it were any other cop, it'd sound like a threat.
It was Hopper though. The same Hopper who Wayne had gone to school with.
They'd never been friends exactly, but they had been friendly and remained so. Even now, after Wayne had taken Eddie in, who’d gone on to be an undeniable pain in the local PD’s ass. 
Hopper really did let the kid off easy. 
Wayne really did owe him. 
So he put down his coffee with a sigh, passed his newspaper over to John and stood up, motioning for Hopper to lead the way. Got into the Chief’s truck when he waved him in, and didn’t make a big fuss when Hopper tore out of the parking lot like hell was about to open up under them. 
"Not a lot of the kids involved in the mall fire could be identified, but a few of them were." Hopper started, which felt nonsensical given the utter lack of context. 
Wayne hummed to show he’d heard. 
“Some of them got banged up more than others, and a lot of people wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t make it.” 
A pause, Hopper white knuckling the steering wheel as he swung the truck hard around a turn. 
“For certain people, those kids dying is the preferred outcome.” 
A mix of fear and warning swopped low in Wayne’s gut. 
"Jim." Wayne said, dropping the use of a last name because if any situation called for it, it was this one. "What exactly are you saying here?" 
The Chief chewed on his split lip. 
"I know you're smart, Munson. I know you, and plenty of others are aware that something's happening, been happening in this town." 
Which was a hell of an understatement if you asked Wayne. Plenty of the upper classes might be able to bury their heads when it came to the military parading about and the flow of “accidents” they brought in their wake, but then, they didn't see all the other signs of trouble. 
The absolute oddity that was Starcourt’s construction. 
How it had been built using primarily outside crews and anyone who'd taken a singular look at the site could tell you they were building it weird. 
Weird as in it looked like it would have a multi-level basement, and not what a mall should have. 
Then there were the constant electrical problems. The backups upon backups that failed. The late night delivery vans headed out to the Hawkins Lab. 
The things in the woods that kept spooking all the deer and the weird markings they left behind that unnerved even the hardest of hunters. 
This didn’t even touch the Russian military that more than one reputable person swore was hanging around. 
The very same Wayne himself had seen, on more than one occasion. 
(And you couldn’t deny it; those boys were military. Past or present, it didn’t matter. They moved like a threat, and Wayne treated them like one, staying well clear.)
"Yeah." Wayne admitted. "I also know better than to stick my nose in it." 
"That makes you a smarter man than me.' Hop complained under his breath, but the anger was self directed. 
"The point is, there are some government types crawling around, doing shit they shouldn't be doing, and more than a few of them are in the business of making people disappear.” 
This was absolutely not where Wayne had thought this was going. 
Hopper took a breath. Than another.
A third.
It was starting to make Wayne nervous, in a way he hadn’t felt since a social worker had brought Eddie to him for the last time and final time. It was the feeling that things were about to shift in a way that would change the course of his life. 
"Steve Harrington is sitting in my office right now, beat to absolute shit.” Hopper admitted.
Wayne gave him the floor to talk, letting him go at his own pace without interruptions. 
“He's there because some of those government types finally figured out his parents are never fucking home.” 
Wayne sucked in a breath. 
"We both know his parents, Wayne. Harassing them to come back and take care of their kid won't work, and frankly, I’m beginning to think all the phone lines are tapped anyway.” He winced here, like voicing such a thing pained him, and Wayne understood.
It sounded a little too out there, a little like he was buying into a conspiracy. 
Except he wasn’t. Wayne knew he wasn’t. 
Jim Hopper might have been an alcoholic, a man living in pain and unconcerned with his own life, but if there was one thing he was solid for, it was shit like this.
He didn’t jump to conclusions. Didn’t believe the first thing people told him. Even at his worst, he did the work to see what was really happening, and made his decisions from there. 
(Even if that decision was to accept the occasional bribe, or drive an intoxicated 13 year old Eddie home instead of hauling his ass into the drunk tank.) 
“Harrington won’t admit it, but he’s got a hell of a concussion if not a full blown brain injury and he’s not reacting as well as he should to Suites trying to run him off the road.” Hopper continued. Angrily, he added, “Damn kid didn’t even come to me until they tried to break into his house last night.” 
His fingers squeezed the wheel so hard Wayne heard the leather creak in protest. 
“I’d take him, but my cabin is being renovated from…” He trailed off, heaving a sigh.
 “A storm, so me and my kid are bunked with the Byers right now and we’re full up.” 
Hawkins hadn't had a storm like that in years, but Wayne wasn't going to call him out on the blatant lie. 
“I need a place to stash him for the next few weeks, until I can work with some of the higher ups sniffing around, and get them to call off their attack dogs.” 
“And you want to stuff him with me.” Wayne finished. 
“I know you don’t have the room.” Hopper admitted easily, stopping his truck at a red light and locking eyes with the other man. “But I also know you’ll be the last place anyone would look for him.” 
'Ain’t that the damn truth.'
“You’re really gonna go this far for a Harrington?” Wayne asked, instead of the million of other questions leaping to the forefront of his mind. 
This one, he figured, was the most important. 
“He’s not his dad.” Hopper said, as firm as Wayne had ever heard him. “He’s not either of his parents, and he saved my little girl.” 
Wayne hadn’t even known Hopper had another little girl, but he also knew better than to ask where the guy had found one. 
It wasn’t his business, just as nothing else Jim was involved in, was his business.
Except, apparently, Steve Harrington. 
“I’m gonna need my own truck if I’m takin' Harrington home.” Wayne said easily, instead of bothering to ask anything else.
If Jim said the kid was different than his daddy, then he was--because when it came to things like that, Jim didn't lie.
No point in it. 
“I know. Just needed to talk to you first, without anyone overhearing.” Jim said, before swinging the police truck around and heading back to the Barn. 
“I’ll stay in contact with you, and I’ll make sure Harrington pays you for the pleasure of your hospitality. Just--” Here Jim cut himself off, looking like he was struggling an awful lot with the next thing he wanted to say. 
Once again, Wayne waited him out.
“Don’t let Steve fool you. He’s good at fooling people, letting them think he’s okay. Too good at it, and between the two of us, I have a real good idea of the reason why.” 
A memory came to Wayne unbidden, of Richard Harrington and Chet Hagan, beating some poor kid in the highschool bathroom bloody. The grins on their faces as the poor guy wailed for them to stop.
How they almost hadn’t. 
“Alright.” Wayne agreed.
Hopper swung back into the Barn's parking lot, and Wayne moved right to his own beat to shit truck, ready to follow Jim back to the police station.
He wasn’t a praying man, not anymore, but Catholisim wasn’t a thing that let you go easy. 
He found himself sending up a quick prayer, fingers flicking in a kind of miniature version of the sign of the cross. 
Considering his own kid’s history with Harrington, and the sheer small space of the trailer? 
Wayne had a feeling it was needed.
3K notes · View notes
triptuckers · 9 months
Text
on the bottom of the lake - percy jackson
Request: yes! "I love ur writing!! could you write something w Percy helping anxious reader?? I’ve been super stressed lately and idk this show is keeping me sane lmao" Pairing:  Percy Jackson x reader Summary:  you've been stressed and percy knows the perfect way to help you relax Warnings:  reader being stressed, some swearing, anxiety Word count:  917 A/N: I drew so many pjo characters yesterday I cant wait to share them when I'm done with them :) thanks for your request, enjoy!
you don't know if you've ever felt like this. sure, you'd been stressed before. but now you're losing sleep over it. and not a few hours, just nights without zero sleep at all.
you've got a big project you need to do for school over the summer. if you call, it'll be your last strike and you'd be expelled. like it was your fault you had trouble reading and concentrating.
when you arrived at camp half-blood at the start of summer, you thought some of your worries would go away.
the opposite happened.
you saw everyone around you having a good time. they didn't have to worry about some project. they slept peacefully from night til morning.
even if you can't work on your project, you're constantly thinking about it. your mind never rests.
percy noticed you've been stressed and tries to talk to you about it, but you always shut him down. it's enough to think about it all the time, let alone talk about it.
after a couple of days, percy tries again. he really wants to help you, but he don't know why.
'hey, y/n?' says percy.
'what's up?' you say, looking up at him. you're supposed to help your cabin prepare for tonight's bonfire, but so far you're not helping much.
'about your project-'
'gods, will you leave it alone, percy!' you burst out. 'I think about that fucking project all day don't you start about it as well!'
percy takes a step back and you realise it's because of you.
'I'm sorry! sorry!' you say, getting up and grabbing one of his hands. 'I'm so sorry I didn't mean it.'
you feel tears slowly starting to fall.
'hey, it's okay.' says percy softly. he reaches up and brushes a tear from your cheek. 'want to go to the lake for a while?'
you nod. percy leads you to the lake. you close your eyes and let the breeze calm you down. but still the project is on your mind. if you go to your cabin now, you could get some work done.
percy tugs on your hand and you open your eyes to look at him.
'get in.' he says, nodding his head toward the lake.
'now?'
percy nods.
'percy, I don't want to go swimming right now.'
'do you trust me?'
'of course.'
'then get in.'
you sigh. what did you have to lose? maybe a swim would be nice.
'let me get my bathing suit.' you say.
'nope.' says percy, pulling you by your hand as he jumps in the lake. before you can stop him, you're pulled forward by his momentum. seconds later, the water surrounds you.
you want to yell at him for getting your clothes soaked, but you remember you're under water. once you get your bearings, you open your eyes, letting them get accustomed to the water.
you try to swim to the surface, but percy still holds on to your hand and pulls you further down, all the way to the bottom of the lake.
good for him, he's a poseidon kid. you aren't. you can't breathe underwater. surely percy knows that right?
he lets go of you hands and swims to the bottom of the lake.
you're going to have to go up for air soon.
you can see percy sitting down on the ocean floor, gesturing at you to join him. you squint your eyes. it looks like the water is less murky down there.
you let yourself sink down to percy's level. the water is less murky here because there is no water here.
'I didn't know you could do this.' you say, looking around the air bubble you're in.
'pretty cool, right?' says percy, smiling proudly.
'why are we here?'
'I mostly come here when I need to be alone. if you sit here in silence for a while, the fish will come up to you. and I always thought the waves are soothing to look at from down here.'
you look up and watch the waves for a while. sunlight pours through the water, giving it a soft glow.
you move closer to percy and rest your head on his shoulder.
the two of you sit there for a while. and percy was right. after some time, fish start to swim around your bubble.
percy tells you about the lake and the animals and after a while even two water nymphs come to say hello. percy knows them and introduces you to them.
you sit there for so long you lose track of time. it's getting late, so you decide to swim up to the surface.
normally you would have been soaked, but thanks to percy you're warm and dry.
you stifle a yawn as percy takes your hand in his and starts walking towards the cabins.
'thank you, that was nice.' you say.
'one of the bonuses of dating a poseidon kid.' says percy, lightly squeezing your hand.
he notices you hadn't talked about your project at all when you were in the lake. and you look genuinely tired. he hopes you can get at least one good nights sleep tonight.
'want to stay at my cabin tonight?' he says.
you smile and nod. 'yeah I'd like that.'
the two of you head to percy's cabin to get some sleep. and percy had been right, you got a good night of uninterrupted sleep. you dreamt of nothing but the comfort of the lake, and percy's presence next to you.
A/N:If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit
938 notes · View notes
destinationtrekk · 27 days
Text
domestic wesker headcanons (afab!reader)
a/n: i’m obsessed with the idea of him being vulnerable and finally trusting someone. I also did not mean for this to be so long LOL I might do a part two without smut nsfw below the cut, 18+ only
afab!reader, descriptions of choking, breeding, penetration, dacryphilia, finishing inside, probably more i’m missing, not beta read
masterlist
Tumblr media
sfw:
After the whole ‘Spencer/Wesker Project debacle’ (as you had dubbed it in your head) ended, Albert opened up to you a lot….like surprisingly a lot.
you had noticed a lot on your own too though. the first being that he was a smoker
you could smell it faintly on his coat after a long day at the labs, and on his breath when he woke you to kiss you goodbye in the early mornings
you finally brought it up one day, casually asking if you should pick up a pack for him on the way back from running errands
you’ll never forget the way his face lit up red and how he sputtered like a fish out of water
he ignored you for a few hours, and then finally asked if it bothered you, avoiding your gaze
you laughed and told him you didn’t really mind, and over time you found out more
he was a chain smoker at the peak of Umbrella, right before they had perfected the T-virus (it was the ‘80s after all) but he had stopped when he joined the Army.
Then while he was in S.T.A.R.S. the stress of being a double, then triple agent got to him. He didn’t smoke nearly as much, but he couldn’t help a cig or two after a hard day
something else you’ve noticed is that he’s a perfect driver. You don’t think he even speeds, or rolls through stop signs when he’s in a hurry.
You think those are perfectly normal things, but he is very adamant that you should not be reckless in his nice cars, which, okay yeah
but he explains that he was mainly escorted during his Umbrella days, rarely having time or need to go somewhere alone until the end of it all
then he had been reprimanded for cruising a liiiittle too much in his S.T.A.R.S. cruiser, and that had been that
you do appreciate his driving when he’s taking you home after you’ve had too many drinks though
nsfw:
despite everyone thinking he’s a sadistic machine, I think he is very much the opposite
growing up women were the last thing on his scientific mind, and then he was much too busy for anything other than a one night stand every other now and then
now though, he comes home so tired he can barely keep his eyes open
It’s not like you two never sleep together. Quite the opposite in fact. Albert is a very generous lover, going as many rounds as you ask until he’s either too tired or you’re spent.
he’s got amazing stamina, even when he’s mentally drained. he prefers to take his time with you, making you finish at least once before he even touches himself
looooves to just grind against your pussy and get himself slick with your juices before he thrusts inside, adores the way his cockhead catches on your clit and how you twitch and gasp beneath him
he also loves to push in as slow as he can, making you feel every inch of him stretching your hole
this man whimpers! he moans and whines and pants in your ear like he’s been starved of touch and it turns you on just as much as his calloused hands do.
he doesn’t actually talk all that much, except to encourage you with that’s it, fuck, I’m close, let go, honey, or he’ll ask what you want him to do - unless he’s feeling fuck nasty (love that phrase)
sometimes he just needs a release, to expel all the pent up frustration, and you’re the perfect solution
he won’t even say hello when he gets home, just finds you and paws at your body like an animal until you tell him yes or no
if you say no, he respects you. completely, one hundred percent. you’re the most important thing in his life, and it’s not even enjoyable to him if you aren’t eager and willing
if you say yes though, he will be all over you. Clothes are flying off and somehow you’ve made it across the house into bed without his mouth leaving your lips and skin
he loves to take you face down when he’s like this, your ass in the air so he can lean over you and pin you down with his weight, groaning and panting in your ear while he fucks you so hard you can barely even make a sound
even when he’s tearing apart your insides, he still likes to intertwine your fingers where you’re gripping the sheets. he just covers it up as needing to hold you still
this is when he really talks, he actually won’t shut up, not that you’re complaining. he’s telling you how tight you are, how you squeeze him like a vice and he can barely pull out. the slick sounds of your hole are driving him crazy, he can’t wait to see your pretty tears when you cum around him, love your sweet wet little hole, pet
sometimes he likes to be rough, pulling your hair, wrapping his long thick fingers around your throat to tug you up into a sloppy kiss, gripping your hips and waist in a bruising hold, so tight you can’t even meet his pounding thrusts
always asks to finish inside you. he’s not really into breeding all that much, he’s just obsessed with the way his cum leaks out of your hole and how it leaves his cock sticky and shiny when he pulls out
surprisingly good at aftercare, cleans you up and holds you until you decide to get up or eventually just fall asleep on top of him. he secretly loves this part just as much as the sex, but he won’t admit it
but that’s a whole other post
236 notes · View notes
ariaste · 1 month
Text
I made a post a few days ago about how dire the hits-to-comments ratio is in this fandom and since then I have tried an experiment, got great results, and I am back to explain how we solve this problem as a community.
Several people made disheartened comments on the previous post about how consumer culture has finally made it to fandom (that is, people don't comment on fics as much any more because they're passive consumers of content rather than equal participants in fandom) but... I kind of think that part of this might be our responsibility as fic authors as well, and something that we as can do something about and take agency over. Because yeah, it's correct that commenting has gone down, but you know what I also don't see very much anymore??? People adding a note at the end of the fic saying "Comments give me life!" or "If you liked this fic, please let me know, a nice comment makes me smile all day" or "Comments keep me energized to write more, please let me know if you enjoyed this!" or "I would love to hear what you thought of this! :)"
The culture of a community is not something that people just know instinctively. It's something that has to be taught, just like manners and etiquette in any other context (you don't know the fish fork from the entree fork from the dessert fork until someone shows you, for example). The venn diagram of "the good old days of fandom when lots of people were in the habit of leaving comments" and "the bad old days when we had to humbly ask people to please comment if they liked it at the end of fics" is probably almost a circle. Yes, it's true that we are living in a society where we are being encouraged to be passive consumers of content and that this is probably leaking into fandom spaces. But the way that we start course-correct is to simply communicate clearly in public about what your needs and preferences are. Not in posts like this, because not everyone is going to see it and it will eventually disappear into the ether, and because one big essay isn't going to affect much change. Just... in small spaces where people will see it immediately when it's relevant, like in the end notes of your fic, or in the caption/description under your fanart post. It is not a bad thing to tell people that you like comments. You are not vain or arrogant for wanting engagement and appreciation for something you made out of love and enthusiasm, you are HUMAN. It is not a bad thing to communicate your needs. And oftentimes it is way more effective than you realize until you have actual data to back it up, like the data I'm looking at right now for this fic.
I made one change on the most recent chapter, and that was to put this at the end:
LISTEN TO ME REAL QUICK HERE, WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT SOMETHING. This fandom has the worst comments-to-hits ratios on fics that I've ever seen. That sucks. Comments are part of a healthy fandom ecosystem, and I can't tell you how many unexpected friends I've made just by telling them I liked their fic. If you don't feel like leaving a comment on this fic, that's okay with me. But you have to PROMISE that you'll leave one on the next three IWTV fics you read, ok? Give our authors some love so they'll keep writing. It'd be a really, really long hiatus until s3 without them.
Since posting this, I can only describe the state of my inbox as, "Oh, THAT'S more like it, there we go, much better!" So... try it out? Tell people that their thoughts and comments are welcome? Remind them that this is a good thing to be doing? It's not going to make everyone comment, but I bet it'll make at least a little bit of a positive difference, and the more people start doing it, the faster we'll inch ourselves back to a thriving and healthy fandom ecology. :)
Rome wasn't built in a day, and culture has to be taught, and the best and happiest kinds of communities grow when the participants are aware and intentional about it.
194 notes · View notes
archangeldyke-all · 3 months
Note
No bc I keep thinking of modern Sev trying to get into the dating game because she wants to settle down and she gets on a dating app because Jinx had mentioned in a conversation with Silco and she ends up matching with reader,,, ahh it’s stuck in my brain
i changed this just a bit to make jinx even more of a shithead hehehe i hope u love it
men and minors dni
"aunt sevy." sevika rolls her eyes at the nickname she hates, and looks up from her book at jinx.
the girl's ten years old now, old enough to know just the right buttons to push to annoy sevika. and sevika's stuck on babysitting duty, because she's an idiot and agreed to be the shithead's godmother when jinx was still a harmless, quiet baby.
"what?" she grunts.
"why don't you have a wife?" jinx asks.
sevika groans. "did your dad put you up to this?" she asks. silco's been bothering her about the same thing lately.
"no." she says. "'m jus' wonderin'. when we have birthday parties and stuff, all the adults bring their boyfriends and girlfriends and wives. but you never do. why not?" jinx asks.
sevika tries her best not to kick jinx's shin. she manages, but not without flicking the kid's forehead.
the truth is that sevika's been asking herself the same thing lately. but she's realized that after so many years of emotionless hook-ups, she's got no idea how a relationship would even fucking work, and she's decided it's easier for everyone if she just... doesn't try.
"mind your own buisness." sevika grunts eventually. jinx studies her with those frighteningly inquisitive eyes of hers, before she smirks, turns on her heel, and runs to her room.
sevika's too relieved by jinx's disappearance that she doesn't even consider that the girl could be up to something.
three days later, sevika gets a call from silco at five in the morning.
"do you know what fucking time it is?" she groans into the receiver as she rubs her sleepy eyes.
"i'm sorry."
"what's so fuckin' important that you couldn't wait to tell me at work?" sevika asks.
silco's responding sigh is long enough for sevika's stomach to sink. "you should dress nice today. a suit, maybe, or at least nice slacks and a button up."
"why? do we have a meeting?"
"no." silco says. sevika waits for him to elaborate, but he doesn't. she huffs.
"silco what the fuck is going on?" she asks.
"you have a date tonight."
it's silent for a few moments. sevika tries to remember if she'd drunkinly given out her number to someone, or if silco asked her to butter up a client. she draws a blank. "...i do?" she asks.
silco sighs again. "jinx got the idea in her head that you need a wife, so she made you a dating profile."
"what?!"
"she's been cat fishing some poor person as you, and she's scheduled a date for the two of you tonight at seven."
"she what!?" sevika screams. her neighbor pounds on the wall that they share. sevika pounds right back. "silco, there is no way in hell i'm going on a date jinx set up for me."
"yes, i figured you'd say that." silco sighs. sevika's phone buzzes. "check your messages."
sevika pulls her phone away from her face and checks the new text sent from silco.
she gulps when your picture pops onto her screen.
you're... everything. if sevika was asked to describe her type, she'd have described you to a tee.
silco starts talking on the other line, and sevika blinks down at your picture one last time before pulling it back up to her face.
"fine." sevika grunts. she can hear silco's smile, and she huffs. "shut the fuck up. which suit should i wear?"
silco cackles on the other line.
sevika almost passes out when she meets you in person. you're stunning, and she's nervous, and she knows absolutely nothing about you even though it seems like jinx has told you everything about her.
it's only when you've ordered your dinner and are chatting over bread that sevika finally confesses.
"i have to tell you something." she mutters.
you pause mid-chew, your lame story about a fat squirrel you'd seen earlier today entirely forgotten at the sight of your gorgeous date's grimace. "don't tell me you're straight." you groan.
sevika cackles, and you relax a bit into your seat, smiling as you watch her catch her breath. "no!" she laughs. "god, no." she wipes her eyes. "i am very gay. and i find you..." she trails off, her eyes darting down to your lips for just a flash, before she blinks and shakes her head. "very attractive." she says.
you gulp, ignoring your sudden arousal. "so... what's the problem?" you ask.
sevika sighs and looks down at her hands. "you've been catfished."
you frown. "uh..." you study the woman in front of you. "you are sevika right? i mean... you look just like your pictures..."
sevika chuckles and shakes her head. "yes, that's me in those pictures. but you haven't been talking to me all week."
"so..." you're beyond confused. "who have i been talking to?" you ask.
sevika cringes. "my fucking shithead niece." she says.
relief floods your body. this isn't a scam or a fucked up prank-- it's a real date with a beautiful woman who's looking at you like she's expecting you to throw your glass of wine in her face.
instead, you burst into laughter. "you sound awfully fond of her."
sevika's stiff posture relaxes, and she huffs her own laugh. "she was cute before she could talk." she says, shrugging. you laugh even harder, reaching across the table to take sevika's hand and squeeze it as you try to compose yourself. "but now she's old enough to ask me why i'm still single and work a smartphone..."
"well, that explains why you had so many typos in your texts."
"oh, god." sevika groans.
"you misspelled 'restaurant' like five times."
"it's a hard word." she chuckles.
you pull the gorgeous woman's hand up to kiss her knuckles, and watch in fascination as all her worry and embarrassment melts away. "so." you say.
"so." sevika repeats.
"if you'd like to leave i understand, i won't be offended. i'm not sure i'd be into the dates my little cousins would pick out for me."
"no!" sevika shouts. she cringes as half the restaurant turns to look at her. you giggle. "no, that's not-- i really want to be here. i just-- i just wanted you to know that you weren't talking to me... you were talking to a ten year old."
it's quiet for a minute as you try to wrap your mind around the situation. so you'll have to re-introduce yourself to the woman in front of you-- that's fine. you're looking forward to getting to know her, and it seems like she wants to get to know you too.
you take a sip of your wine, then giggle when a thought occurs to you. "god, i'm so fucking glad i didn't try sexting with you." you say.
sevika bursts into surprised laughter, and she has to pinch herself to keep from launching over the table and kissing you.
(jinx never lets sevika live down the fact that she married the first person she picked out for her aunt.)
(jinx also officiates your wedding.)
taglist!
@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner
@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther
@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai
@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll
@sevsdollette @ellieslob
242 notes · View notes
gentlyweeps-world · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
boy next door
summary: He always comes around when you least expect him.
pairing: logan sarge x reader
warnings: none
genre: angst/fluff-ish | childhood friends-crushes | lowkey toxic
notes: LOGAN LOOKED SO GOOD IN THOSE LIVERY LAUNCH PICTURES
LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO
You had always known Logan, growing up with him until him and his family moved away, at the time you didn’t know why.
When you were younger you knew he had taken some sort of interest in motorsports. When him and his brother got karts Logan invited you to watch them race around.
You both were young kids and had crushes on each other. Your parents loved it, especially since you were neighbors.
You couldn’t count how many backyard barbecues you were invited to, or how many times you were brought out fishing.
But it all had stopped one summer, you were 16 almost 17, you and Logan had still talked, still hung out when he was in town, but then he “ghosted” you.
You were heartbroken, your parents were concerned. Neither they nor you understood why. In fact his parents didn’t even know.
You tried to move on, even dated a few people. None of them ever stuck.
Suddenly one day you saw Logan on TV, a race in Monaco, you were stunned. “Is that him?” You asked yourself. He had gone for it, he actually achieved his dream.
You remember countless nights when you two would sneak away, whispering to each other about how Logan would become a world renowned formula one driver and you’d be there right alongside him.
Was it naive- yes, but you were kids, at the time it all felt so real, so believable.
Then you saw him later into 2023, maybe a month or two after the Monaco race, at a friends wedding, a close friend, a mutual friend of yours and Logan’s.
You both had made eye contact after the reception, exchanging awkward yet eager smiles. Then it occurred to you- you had brought a date.
Your date was a recent rebound, you liked him but didn’t feel that same spark. You excused yourself from your date early as if on cue.
You move past some people at the after party, everyone was up and talking, drinks in hands as they share stories.
You finally lock eyes with Logan again, he was sitting at a table by himself, sipping on what looked like some soda.
He stood up as you approached. A familiar look of regret on his face, he stepped toward you and embraced you tightly. “It’s been too long.”
“Hi- hi..how have you been..” You say, pulling away from him as you look into his eyes- those blue/green eyes you fell in love with.
“Not all that great actually.” He said with a sheepish smile, clearly wanting to explain himself but unable to.
“Yeah uh..I heard, I’ve been keeping up to date with formula one..” You say with a soft smile.
“I’m glad about that…” He said trailing off. He was unable to continue, it was clear he wanted to explain and clear the air.
An idea suddenly comes to you, grabbing Logan’s hand you lead him through the crowd and outside, thankfully in Florida it was nice and warm out for the night.
You spot a bench nearby, walking over to it you sit down, patting the spot next to you for Logan.
Gratefully Logan joins you, taking a deep breath before finally letting it out. The air between you two is tense and awkward as Logan finally begins to speak. “There are some things I should’ve said.”
“Definitely..” You say, looking over at him.
Logan lets out a deep sigh before continuing. “You have every right to be mad at me for just disappearing on you like that. I had a dream…I didn’t think you’d understand.”
“Logan- I have known you since we could walk..your dream- we shared that..I wanted that for you, and I was apart of it..”
Logan’s expression softens slightly as he looks into your eyes and it becomes clear just how badly he wants to hold you. “Maybe not all dreams come true, but I thought you might have given up wanting me to come back to you. I have a lot of regret about that night, you were the most important person in my life, and I walked right out of it.”
Your eyes go wide as he mentions that night.
Soooo maybe he didn’t exactly ghost you out of nowhere- he really didn’t, you just didn’t want to admit that.
It happened when you were both 16. You had agreed to go to a friends party, together. Key word being together.
Everyone knew you and Logan had something going on, but they also knew it wasn’t official.
But you were strictly known as Logan’s girl.
That’s why you had the argument- you hated being known as Logan’s girl- because you knew the word had no meaning behind it.
“I like you Y/n! Just I don’t want to be with you!” Logan shouts, throwing his hands up.
“Then why did you say all of those things? You can’t just play with someone like that?!”
“Well maybe you’re just easy to play with!”
You had gone silent as soon as he said that, you could hear your blood rushing, you could feel your heart break, and you could see Logan instantly regret his words.
“That’s not what- I’m sorry Y/n..” He says, reaching out towards you.
“I hate you Logan”
That was the last thing you had said to him before he went back to Europe. He was your first everything, and it had hurt.
“Yeah that night…” You mumble out, looking into his eyes, “that night was something..”
“God, that was the biggest mistake I’ve made in my whole life…” he says before letting out a long sigh.
He reaches out to touch your face but hesitates, then lets his hand fall to his side. “I knew that once you left my life there was a chance I’d never see you again… I was devastated, there was nothing I wanted more than to see you again but I was afraid you hated me.”
“Let’s just enjoy this moment..” You say softly, reaching for his hand to place it on the side of your face.
Logan’s expression softens as you take his hand and rest it against your face. He looks down at his hand, tracing his fingers across your cheek and gently brushing his thumb over your lips.
That night of your friends wedding- you and Logan had connected again, some would say you both “connected” in a different way..
But then he left again, without a word. That time it hurt, but not as nearly as bad, you honestly kind of expected it.
This time you were back from university to visit your parents, you were outside helping your mom with her flowers when you heard the wheels of a suitcase on pavement.
Looking up you spot Logan, sunglasses on adorned with a smile.
He looked good, he always looked good.
“He’s here for a few days” You hear your mother say. She knew, she knew you two still loved each other, but she also knew you two would self sabotage.
“Oh right right..” You mumble out, looking away from Logan just as he notices you.
A few hours had passed, your parents were out for dinner with a few friends. You opted to stay back, working on some online classes you were taking.
Sitting in your childhood bedroom you click away at your laptop until you heard a tap..tap..tap at your window.
Getting up you go to look who or what it is, and to your surprise, it wasn’t actually a surprise, it was Logan.
He gives you a small smile, you return it, starting to open the window for him to come in. Once it’s opened he pulls himself in, awkwardly standing there.
“Uh- hey..” He says with a small smile, shifting in place where he stands.
“Hi..” You say softly, admiring the way his eyes crinkle and the cute little moles on his face. You could feel the tension in the air between you two, the same tension from the night of the wedding, the same one from that night.
Inching toward you Logan closes the distance between the two of you. “Is it okay if I…” He starts to ask, letting a breath out as he moves in closer.
He rests his hands on your hips, inching closer. In a whisper he asks “Can I?”
“Of course Logan..” You whisper out, reaching up your own hand to cup the side of his face.
Slowly Logan leans in and kisses you. His lips meet yours and the tension that had been hanging was completely released. Your lips fit together like a puzzle piece, it felt so natural with him.
That night was wonderful- even better than the one of the wedding.
You were invited to a cookout the next day by his parents- and you didn’t hesitate to say yes.
You talk and catch up with some Logan’s family and closer friends, a smile etched on your face the entire time- you felt complete, like that emptiness you had was filled.
You hear Logan’s name be called, glancing up and around you spot him.
You feel your heart drop, a sudden wave of sickness washing over you.
His arm was wrapped around a girls waist.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
notes 🪩: Oops? This was supposed to be a fluffy rom-com type fic but obviously I didn’t follow that 🤗
I am working on the next part to rookie days so look out for that!!
send in requests or comments, and ask to be added to taglist if wanted! 💙
permanent taglist: @cixrosie @amajixi @i-wish-this-was-me @nelly187
384 notes · View notes
lovelyjj · 10 months
Note
maybe a mix of “i’m just afraid” and “tell me the truth”? 🫶
avoidance
jj maybank x reader
wc: 1.4k
a/n: I lowkey hate this.
Tumblr media
You and JJ were the best of friends. You did everything together. He was your person you told everything to. He was your partner in crime. There were no secrets between the two of you.
You and JJ were on the couch that was on John B’s porch, enjoying the rain. The rain was blanketing the outer banks in water, soaking the grass and trees.
“I love the rain,” you stated.
“Really why?” JJ asked.
“I don’t know it makes me feel less alone, like the sky is crying with me.”
“That’s a really good reason,” JJ replied.
“Thanks,” you smiled.
“You want to dance?” JJ asked with a goofy grin on his face.
“In the rain?” You questioned surprised.
“In the rain,” JJ confirmed.
“Ok.”
JJ got up and reached his hand out for you to take, which you gladly accepted. The two of you went out on the grass and JJ held onto one hand. Then he put one hand on your waist and you put the hand not holding his, on his shoulder.
You guys danced and he spun you around and you got soaking wet. You were having a lot of fun though. You were having a blast and so was JJ.
When you were finished JJ ushered you inside as you giggled.
You both changed into dry clothes and afterwards JJ had an idea.
“Let’s make some hot chocolate,” JJ announced.
“Yes please,” you answered.
JJ whipped up two mugs of cocoa and you both sipped yours quietly.
“Tastes good,” you whispered.
“Wanna watch a movie?” you asked JJ.
“Sure,” JJ replied.
You both settled into John B’s living room and put on spider-man. You ended up falling asleep on the pullout couch.
——————
A couple days later you were all going out on the boat. The day was bright and sunny perfect for going out on the water.
JJ was looking at you in your bikini top. He knew he shouldn’t be looking at his best friend like that but he couldn’t help it. You looked hot and JJ could hardly look away from your chest.
You were oblivious to JJ’s ogling. You were happy to be on the boat with your friends.
“I can’t believe the weather is so nice,” you spoke.
“Yeah it’s perfect,” Pope responded.
“I thought it would be windy out here on the water,” JJ said removing his attention from your breasts.
“Hope we can catch some fish,” John B announced.
“Should be able to,” JJ commented.
While the boys were fishing, you Kiara and Sarah were on your phones. You were looking through your photos and you noticed how many you had of you and JJ.
There was one of you two at the beach with the waves in the background and a pretty sunset.
“Can I post this J?” you asked.
“Let me see it.”
You handed your phone to JJ and he took it. He scanned the image and smiled a genuine smile.
“Yeah that’s a good one. Go ahead fire away.”
You gave him a smile and decided to post the picture.
After a while you got a few comments. One was from Sarah that said, “Goals.”
You ignored it because you didn’t want to draw attention to it. The last thing you needed was people assuming your in a relationship with JJ cause your not. Your just friends and that’s all you ever will be.
—————
You were spending more and more time with JJ. Sometimes with the other pogues and sometimes just the two of you.
You were starting to catch feelings for him. You didn’t know how or why but being around him brought out the best in you. You started to fall in love with your best friend. You were scared you’ve never felt this way before. And what if he doesn’t love you back.
You decided to go to Kiara and ask for her help. She was working at the wreck, so you made your way over there.
“Hey Kie, I need your help,” you hesitated.
“Yeah sure y/n whatever you need,” Kiara replied.
“Here let’s sit down,” Kiara said as she directed you to a small table by the window.
You sat across from her and she gave you a kind smile with kind eyes.
“What’s up,” Kiara started.
“Well um I’ve sorta had these feelings for a certain someone and I’m not sure what to do about it. I just know I don’t want to tell them,” you began.
“Why don’t you want to tell them,” Kiara asked.
“I’m just afraid,” you bit your lip.
“What do you have to be afraid of?”
“Well first of all he could not feel the same way. He could reject me. He could laugh in my face. The list goes on,” you threw your hands up in the air.
“JJ wouldn’t do that,” Kiara raised a brow.
“How do you know it’s JJ?” You asked.
“Oh come on, who else would it be.”
“You’ve got a point.” you laughed.
“Speak of the devil,” Kiara whispered as you turned to the sound of the door opening.
JJ sauntered in to the wreck, Pope, John B and Sarah following suit.
“The gangs all here,” Kiara exclaimed.
“I need to go,” you whispered to Kiara.
“What why?”
“I just need to, ok!”
You slipped out the back door leaving the rest of the crew utterly confused.
—————
You have been avoiding JJ. It’s not that you wanted to, you hated the distance between you and not seeing him but you didn’t know how to act around him anymore.
You were getting worried because you thought JJ was on to you. Now JJ was getting worried because he hasn’t seen you in a while. He figured that you were mad at him. He hated it.
When the pogues would hang out all together you would not be there. You would miss the activities they had planned.
It was getting harder and harder hiding your feelings from JJ. You would always blush or your heart would beat really fast. So your only option you decided was to stop hanging out with him.
JJ was confused because of your absence. He was going to get to the bottom of this. He was determined.
He assumed you would be at your house. So that’s where he showed up. He knocked on your door a few times and after a few minutes you came to the door. You were shocked to see JJ standing there.
You wanted to run back to your room and hide. You were embarrassed by your actions. Just all of a sudden ghosting him. He didn’t deserve that.
“Hey um so I miss you. A lot. And I think we need to talk,” JJ scratched the back of his neck.
“Sure.”
You stepped outside and closed the door behind you.
“I need to know why your avoiding me,” JJ insisted.
“I’m not avoiding you.”
“y/n.”
“Ok ok I’ve been avoiding you because I didn’t want to see you.” You nervously crossed your arms and looked down.
JJ wasn’t buying it. “No. Tell me the truth.”
As you looked into JJ’s pleading blue eyes you felt your stomach flip. You couldn’t lie to him even if you tried.
“Fine. You want the truth? The truth is I’m in love with you. And I don’t know how to act around you anymore. I assumed you didn’t feel the same way so to save myself the rejection, I avoided you.”
“You thought I wouldn’t feel the same way?” JJ questioned.
“I’ve been in love with you for years,” JJ confessed.
“Really?”
JJ nodded his head.
“I can’t believe you did all that.” JJ said surprised.
You took a step closer to JJ and he took your face in his hands.
“Come here,” JJ whined.
You didn’t need to be asked twice. You leaned in and JJ placed lips on yours. Instantly you felt electrifying sparks shoot trough you. Your stomach erupted with butterflies. The kiss was gentle and delicate. JJ was excited and you were giddy.
Your lips were crushing together and moving against each other. JJ was feeling warm all over. Your hands were resting on JJ’s shoulders. One of JJ’s hand rested on your jaw and one hand snaked lower to your butt squeezing lightly. This caused you to gasp, allowing JJ’s tongue to slide into your mouth.
After making out you pulled away breathless. You wore a big smile and JJ laughed.
“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” JJ broke the silence.
“I’ve missed you too,” you responded.
“Will you be mine?” JJ asked.
“Yes, I’ll be yours,” you exclaimed.
JJ picked you up and spun you around, your laughter mixing together to create a sense of harmony and happiness. Since you and JJ were best of friends your romantic relationship will only flourish because you loved each other wholeheartedly.
538 notes · View notes
Note
Tumblr media
Can you please do this but with Ruggie and Leona?
Courting Rituals w/ Fem Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland
Tumblr media
Ruggie Bucci
Mating rituals for hyenas are very…tense
Females are aggressive and violent
For males there's a lot of submission and fear that goes into the mating process
Naturally he’s not supposed to be all that dominant when dating anyway
But you’re so clueless and totally unaware he might have to help you get the hint
There are three things male hyenas typically do
The cautious steps forward and cautious steps back
Spotted hyena males often do something of a nervous start toward the female before running back 
Kind of like a nervous jig that’s a sure fire sign of their intentions
Whether or not the females actually see it they do it
Which rings just as true for Ruggie 
“Oh wow, Ruggie your sharing with me?”
“Yeah don’t get to hung up on it. I’m just being a good senpai.” No he’s not
Or when Ruggie unexpectedly shares some of his food with you
And right after that he doesn’t talk to you for the longest time
Those are his steps but you won’t notice
You’ve got so many friends 
He hates it really
Next is another round of testing the waters
Now this testing of the waters–or more accurately your boundaries
Starts with crossing his legs in front of you
Something he does casually while speaking to you 
Next is the scratching the ground in front of you
Again you just casually brush off the extra time he spends down there tying your shoe
But now that he’s tested the waters he can finally commence with his final act
Presenting and you accepting
Now this wasn’t the olden days unfortunately
Even without your proper knowledge flashing you wasn’t the right display
So he’d take something close to it 
“Ruggie I really appreciate you inviting me to come swimming with you.”
“Nishishishi it’s no problem! You scratch my back I’ll scratch yours.”
And scratch his you will since he’s wearing a tight speedo
And he purposely planned for this after all
Made sure grim and company we’re too busy 
And Leona away on some trip 
Now for your acceptance
Again he has to be slick you’re so far from a typical hyena beast woman 
You just don’t know that bending over and parting your legs is the ultimate sign
The go ahead he needs
“Hey (Y/n), I need your help with something! My goggles fell into this rabbit hole.”
“What why don’t you do it?”
“Heh? I thought you were nice!” 
“Fine fine. Just make sure I don’t fall in the ground looks pretty unstable.”
“But of course!"
He’s holding your waist tight as you  bend over
Its the way it will be from now on
Your his mate now 
And any violence he does in your name is completely justified 
Tumblr media
Leona Kingscholar
Lion’s have very basic mating rituals 
That aren’t really worried heavily on being impressive or not 
Its snuffing out competition 
Yes, powerful roars and a large dark mane is just as alluring
But it means nothing if your intended mate is occupied
Like with another male or with a child of another
So that’s what Leona’s worried about
Worried about the way you so easily interrupt your time together to deal with Grim
“Sorry Leona, if I don’t go home now the rest of the night is going to be a nightmare!”
“Then why don’t you stay here, then.”
“Thanks but Grim gets fussy if I'm not there.”
The urge to revert to his ancestor’s behavior is strong
But he’d rather not deal with you fighting him so he’ll invest in making Grim a little ally speedbump
A few plates of gourmet fish and suddenly Grim is willing to mess up any other rivals of his 
And that pleases him….for awhile
But you still mention Grim when you two are talking or cuddling 
It makes him sick
So a deal with Azul or paid underhanded deal and suddenly Grim’s not your problem anymore
And when you come crying to him he’ll soothe you but he won’t feel remorseful
You won’t feel to bad if he gives you a cub or two of your own
810 notes · View notes
tippenstoepens · 2 months
Text
Prettiest Girl in the Room
Tumblr media
part 1 - part 2 - part 3
Wordcount: 1.2k
You couldn’t hold it against Joe. As an adult woman, you knew better by now. Kisses don’t come with strings attached and just because a person kisses you, doesn’t mean they want to spend the rest of their life with you - especially if that kiss happened while both parties were drunk.
Which Joe made pretty apparent when he didn’t call you the morning after your kiss. Or the three mornings after that. Or the three months after that. All you had heard from Joe was his reaction notifications from the cast group chat when someone would send a Twitter meme made of the show. Everyone fancied one of Jackson’s character screaming “Well, you can shove your ham up your ass!” 
“Joekeery loved an image”
That’s all you got. 
You went about your life the way you always did between gigs: waitressing during the week, babysitting your friends’ kids on weekends, and sending out the odd self-tape in hopes your career wasn’t over before it had even begun. It was a nice, simple life. Not every actor was fortunate enough to afford a roof over their head in New York City, no matter how many doubles they worked. You consider yourself spoiled rotten every day. What could possibly be missing?
You didn’t date. That was probably part of the problem. That’s what made Joe’s silence ache so deeply. You wondered if it would change anything if he knew that the most action you had gotten in months before the kiss was getting catcalled in the streets. A simple kiss meant the world to celibate, touch starved women like you.
Maybe you should be the one to call him… And maybe you should crawl on your knees begging him to pay you a modicum of attention with “DESPERATE” written on your forehead in red Sharpie just to put the icing on the idiot cake. 
He popped into your mind way more often than he was welcome. At the grocery store when one of the songs he always played in the makeup trailer started harassing you over the intercom. In your kitchen when you removed fish bones from your salmon. In bed when you were trying to… Well, that’s no one’s business. 
“Guess who has two thumbs and just got renewed for a second season,” the director bubbled in the group chat.
“Oh, I love this game,” David texted. “This show. Our show got greenlit.”
It was time to shake it off. Not just for the sake of the show, but for your own sake. It wasn’t healthy to dwell so much on the past. 
On the first day back from hiatus, the producers and director had the cast sit for a table read of the first few scripts they had written. As Joe’s TV wife, you’d expect to be sitting next to him considering most of your scenes were together. Maybe you should talk to Joe and clear the air before the table read started. Yes. That’s the mature thing to do.
You arrived twenty-five minutes early - which is on-the-dot on time in the acting world. Joe wasn’t there when you arrived. Or ten minutes after you did. Or five minutes after that.The anticipation of Joe’s arrival was turning your stomach into knots. He was usually punctual. Surely, he wasn’t tardy because of you.
“Any word from Joe?” The director mumbled to his assistant. 
“Haven’t heard from him,” they replied.
You began to worry. Was he skipping out on the table read because he didn’t want to see you? Had his avoidance of you gone that far? He’d have to get over it eventually. He had a contract to fulfill. Just as you began your descent into a catastrophizing spiral, the clock struck eleven and Joe jogged into the room - beads of sweat forming at his hairline. “So sorry,” he panted. “Traffic was terrible.”
“It’s okay, we wouldn’t get started without our golden boy,” David teased. “I hear he’s up for sexiest man alive this year.”
Joe blew a short raspberry in response.
“Alright, alright, let’s get right into it, shall we? From the top of episode one.” The director chirped, no doubt relieved that he didn’t have to read Joe’s lines for him. “Interior. The Henderson bedroom. John and Jane Henderson lie in bed, covered only by their silk bed sheets. They’re snuggled up together. Post-coitus is implied.”
Say sike right now. You had never done a scene like this with Joe before. Never! The Henderson’s didn’t even have a scene like this in their honeymoon episode.
Of course this would be the first scene on the first day back after your first time seeing Joe after your first kiss. It was fan service. Every girl, guy, and person wanted to see more of Joe’s skin these days. But why did you have to be dragged into it?
You turned to look Joe in the eyes as you would have at any other table reading. Normal. This is normal. Business as usual. But it didn’t feel as easy as it was before. At first, you struggled to make eye contact and when you finally did, the intensity of his gaze made you blush a bit. Only a bit. The show must go on.
“That was amazing, sweetheart,” he scooped the line off the page and met your gaze again. 
God, the script writing was really going downhill this season, huh?
You sighed contently as the script dictated. “You’re tellin’ me!”
The whole cast chuckled.
The rest of the table read went on without a single hitch. After the ice was broken, things weren’t nearly as awkward as you dreaded they would be. The cast went through the entire table read five times before the lunch break. The first thing you did with your free time was approach Joe.
“You didn’t call.”
“Neither did you."
Fair, but not really because Joe was the one with a booming career and Joe was the one everyone tuned in to the show for and Joe was the one with most of the power in this dynamic and Joe was the one who initiated the kiss and infinitely many other reasons that he was to blame came to mind before you finally came to the conclusion that you didn’t call Joe because you were afraid of the possibility of rejection. What if you followed up only to find out that he wasn’t interested in you? Your low-self esteem convinced you that reaching out to a person like Joe was asking for embarrassment.
“So what now?” The rough exterior melted, revealing the vulnerable little girl inside that just wanted a boy to like her back.
“Well, that’s up to you,” he shrugged.
Not necessarily the answer you wanted. You just stared him down until he said more things.
“If it was just a drunken kiss, I understand. We’ll never speak of it again. We’ll keep things professional.”
“And if it wasn’t?” You murmured while making sure to avoid eye contact lest you be made a fool of for saying that.
“If it wasn’t… I’d like you to have dinner with me," he blushed. "Some time. If you… I dunno if you have free time- Well, of course you have free time, but I meant- If you want to have dinner,” he stammered and stuttered.
“I’d love to.”
Joe sighed in relief. “Great. Do you like Italian?” He smiled a bashful, closed lipped smile and it made the corners of his big, brown eyes crinkle.
“I love Italian.”
“I know a spot in the lower east side near Ludlow. Friday at eight? I’ll pick you up if you like.” God, his eyes.
The submissive in you wished he would stop worrying about what you like and make you do what he liked. The romantic in you found his sheepishness so charming.
“I’d like that,” you beamed.
Taglist: @thefrontofmymind, @bejeweled13swiftie
117 notes · View notes
beiasluv · 2 years
Text
neteyam x human!reader
°:. *₊ ° . ° .•
a/n: the domestic bliss got me so, here it is / let’s say you guys are the same age /spoilers??
masterlist
enjoy!
Tumblr media
being a human on pandora isn’t easy as you might think. breathing air? not possible without a mask. traveling around? quite difficult with human’s capability.
but those didn’t stop you from loving this planet any less.
you are one of those babies who didn’t got a chance to travel back to earth 10 years ago, and you are not complaining.
pandora is much quieter and more peaceful (well, not yet, and we are here for fluff)
spider is one of your friends, well your only friend, until you meet netayam and the sullys. spider taught you the na’vi language, until you are fluent to a certain level. you can catch many phrases, but, unfortunately, can not reply.
you first met neteyam when you were both still young. he was practicing hunting for fish and you were exploring around the forest
“ok, near the rock, just as dad told…,” a young blue na’vi mumbled to himself and stretched back his arm, holding his weapon. splash! a loud sound echoed from the water as the fish was caught dead by the sharp tip. “yes! dad! I did it! I caught a fish!”
“…dad?” he looked into the bush as he saw your (e/c) reflected by the sunlight.
he crawled closer to the bush as he saw you running away deep into the forest. without any delay, he followed your footsteps and scents. along the way, admiring your beautiful choice of path into the damp grassy area. there, he found you napping peacefully by a tree and woodsprites surrounded you. your hair contrasted the green grass perfectly, yet your exomask covers your face from his.
“…hey,” the boy nudged you slightly causing you to stirred awake.
“wh..who are you?” you gathered yourself quickly, hiding your face from him. “oh wait, do you even know what I am saying? um…sorry, Ohe can’t tukru na’vi (I can’t speak na’vi)”
“you are funny, because you are speaking it right now, i am neteyam, who are you?” he giggled “I haven’t seen you around before, let alone a human,” he turned your face towards him. he tapped playfully on your mask, examining it as he looked into it.
“i am um…(y/n), and I haven’t left the lab that much,” neteyam stared into your eyes. “you must be spider’s friend, he told me about his friends.”
“are you related to spider?! must be nice keeping you to himself,” he fake pouted. “i want to have more human friends, my brother have five fingers like you!”
“well, you can meet me again by the lab. I didn’t left it that much, because i don’t have friends, except spider, of course, but he likes to leave me alone in the forest,” you rolled your eyes and received a giggled from neteyam.
“i can be your friend! and i promise I’ll never leave you in the forest!” he grinned showing his whitey teeth.
it was easy to say that your life had never been the same ever since
your duty patrolling grace’s tank at the lab isn’t so boring as before, and you get to meet and know grace’s legacy, kiri
neteyam would visit the lab with kiri more often, making up excuses like he wants to make sure she is okay while visiting grace.
another reason he likes to see you in the lab, because he can touch your face without the difficulties of a mask. he likes to hold your hand and especially your pinkie.
you, neteyam, and kiri became greats friends. while sometimes you would visit them in the forest; you noticed neytiri wasn’t giving spider the warmest welcome, so you learned to keep a space from her
neteyam, the being the older brother he is, is always protective of you and his siblings. you two are often teased as the parents of the group.
neteyam will carry you wherever and whenever you want. even times when you insist you can walk on your own, but he will carry you through the jungle.
tuk is very attached to you, even though she is 2x bigger than you but she’s your baby sister.
kiri is your bestieee, and she definitely knows all the tea. you will always comfort her when she gets picked on for her hands.
“these pinkies are here for special reason, it is for pinkie promises. a special promise for special someone, and you are special to me, kiri,” she smiled back.
the middle brother, lo’ak, is quite reserved at first but you’ve managed to melt his wall away. your warmth that his brother couldn’t resist made him comforted every time he is around you.
he sees you as an older sister and you’ve managed to made him listen more than his own brother. you know how to cheer him up and comfort him wherever he felt that he is his brother’s shadow. you became soft mother figure to him.
jake, being somewhat of a human, took you under his wings. he sees you and neteyam often teasing each other, and that reminded him of himself. (neteyam: one down, one more to go)
he is always glad that there is someone helping him and his wife around the house. you were there to support his children emotionally and physically, sometimes.
well, years had passed and the ‘lovebirds’ had grown stronger ever than before.
everything was going smoothly, until two reasons.
one, the sky people are back again.
two, you have grown weaker than before.
your human body was great but you hoped that you could have an avatar of your own, and coincidentally, the lab had been creating one for you. (definitely neteyam did not asked for one and definitely he did not begged his grandma to help with consciousness transfer)
“we have to take your DNA, okay? my (y/n)…” neteyam ran his hand through your head and hair calming you down. “i don’t know ways to help you other than this, i don’t want to lose you, alright? you are my best friend.”
‘you are the love of my life!’ you thought. “yes, i know, neteyam, take my DNA even if it means i am dying soon.”
“no! you are not dying, the sky people are here, well, yes, they might be your species, but you are special to me, okay?” he sighed. “I will not lose my best friend, not to a problem we have a solution to.”
“i don’t know what are we fighting for! you know that i am about to die, why then worth trying something that can be passed on for spider or other human with more opportunities and possibilities than me!”
“please, dont make this harder, okay?”
“neteyam! neteyam! nete-“ and that was the last thing you saw, netayam holding you down and a scientist with an anesthesia.
“grandma, how is she taking it?” neteyam strolled hurriedly around your body.
“wait out, you hot-headed boy, she’s going through…”
“what- what is going on?”
“(y/n)! (y/n)!” the blue faced boy went ahead and hugged your body close.
“neteyam, glad to see you-“ “woah- you aren’t so big anymore, my- my feet! they’re huge! woah- i have a tail? look! woah- what- my ear is like a cat’s”
“woah- woah woah, take it easy, my (y/n), that’s what i went through for 15 years, you just had it for one minute and you’re going crazy!” he giggled. “see? it wasn’t so bad after all and what’s a cat?”
“silly of you, neteyam- but why the tree of souls?”
“got cha consciousness transferred, wouldn’t have it done the scientifac- scientific ways,” he tapped your forehead slightly. “i begged for grandma myself, glad she’s helping out, or we’re doomed.”
“thank you, neteyam.”
life didn’t get easier after that, but you were now together, at last.
the sullys welcomed you quickly and warmly. neytiri had some hard times but jake reminded her once again of their past.
-spoilers-
uncertain times calls for uncertain choices, the sullys decided to move to the metkayina for shelter.
neteyam and his siblings, along with you, flew across the ocean toward your temporary home.
the flight there was risky as you guys had to travel across the storms and oceans. neteyam held you tightly within his embrace the whole flight.
the first few weeks, he often cries whenever he is alone with you, saying you are his safe house.
“i- i want to go home, (y/n), i can’t do this anymore,” he sniffles on your lap.
“i am so sorry, nete, we are here now, i miss our home too, but this is for the best for the people,” you cradled him close.
“you- you shouldn’t say sorry, my (y/n), it’s not your fault,” he grabbed your hair tight as he cried.
“ow, nete, c’mon let’s go swim and calm down,” you swayed him like a baby and sang him songs.
at the ocean villages, the leader welcomed the sullys with not the warmest welcome but satisfying enough for the time. they must live and depend on it for now, that’s the least they could do.
kiri and you got called out for having five fingers which neteyam did not take it very well. he had been hostile towards anyone who made fun of your hands.
tsireya, ao’nung, and the rest welcomed them as well, although the boys could’ve been much friendlier in your thought.
tsireya and you kicked along pretty well, she’s beautiful, kind, caring, and hot. 😳 (sorry, not sorry)
of course, you gotta tease her with lo’ak, and how she told him ‘i see you’ before you and neteyam was a disgrace. you love her like a sister and adores her so bad.
likewise, she never misses a chance to tease you with neteyam.
“please, y/n, when? when are you going to do it!”
“not now, not never, does he even like me?” you pouted. “he calls me his best friend, i am obviously in the friend zone.”
“c’mon, please, that boy is head over heals for you,” she rolled her blue eyes. “when i taught you guys to swim, he is drooling over you underwater, almost choking himself unalive i supposed,” she giggled.
“maybe he is just amazed by the ocean, it is really pretty,” you sighed.
“girl- you are not taking hints.”
and boys are boys, they were fighting on the beach over kiri. kiri stood there laughing and her brothers getting themselves into the mess. while you walked out of the water sprinting towards neteyam and lo’ak, grabbing their ears and dragging them out.
“i apologize for my friends,” you laughed politely at ao’nung’s face.
“e- erm, i am sorry, too,” he was stunned by your face, dampened by the water, and your hair sticking to your body. ‘grrr’ neteyam scowling in the background behind your back to ao’nung.
“now if you please excuse us, i am so sorry, let me know if you want me to treat your wound as an apology,” you smiled and turned back to widened your eyes at neteyam and lo’ak.
“so- sorry” “sorry🖕”
“lo’ak!”
wound-tending sessions wasn’t as fun as watching them fight.
kiri took lo’ak and you took neteyam.
earning ‘ow’s and ‘ouch’s form neteyam you scolded him while patching him up.
“squeeze my leg if it hurts.”
he did tried not to but he ended up left some red marks on your legs.
during harsh and cold times, you still find your comfort in neteyam. you guys cuddle every night together before bed, and singing lullabies together, reminding each other of home.
neteyam likes to be the big spoon but you can be the big spoon, too, ever since your human form to your avatar form.
now for domestic stuffs in metkayinaa
you guys love to swim together in the ocean, and sometimes hiding the reefs (shh, they make a great place for a kiss on the cheek)
neteyam loves your hand, he will hold them wherever you go.
he loves finding pretty shells for you and clipping them onto your hair.
ao’nung having a crush on you, and tsireya told him off. because, obviously, she is your biggest shipper.
neytiri and jake knew there is no use separating you and neteyam, so one calls for a family meeting.
she noticed how her children received an emotional support whenever they need it from you. neytiri slowly accepted you into her family and realized that you had become more than a friend to their family, but a part of them. now, she sends a heartwarming smile for you. (neteyam, two down, it’s only you babe)
“thank you, (y/n), for taking care of my family,” she hugged you. “you are a part of us, never let them separate us apart.”
“I trust you, (y/n), i see a great potential in you, take care of my sons and daughters in this time of war,” jake touched his forehead against yours.
fond moments must come to an end; the thing they dreaded the most had arrived, the sky people
you guys fought until your very last breath, and every moments felt like it is your last
“go! y/n! go!” lo’ak and spider jumped into the middle pool of the boat, while neteyam took the gun.
“okay! love! on my count okay?” you shouted back.
“no! on my count- OKAY HE’S DOWN! 1…2-“ he was taken back by your push, and as of everything goes in slow motion. your body push his against the rails and made him fall into the pool.
the bullet made its way towards your chest, and everything flashes back. your mom, your dad, your lonely childhood, meeting him for the first time, meeting the sullys, growing up together, transferring your consciousness, traveling here, and fighting along side him.
you felt an impact within your body, and his eyes widened as you both fall into the water. he cradled your body in his as you both meet the impact of the water. slowly, your bodies submerged into the water and he pulled you out…and everything seems to black out.
“no no no no NO!” you heard neteyam screams.
“rip that cloth, RIGHT NOW!” jake shouted. “she is losing her consciousness!” you felt a burning sensation and a tightening sensation on your shoulder.
“is she alright DAD! SHE IS SHAKING! DO SOMETHING!” neteyam cries and clings onto your body.
“y/n…” tsireya hold your hand and her wet tears dropped on your arms.
“No! My child, my guardian protector!” Neytiri screamed in agony, as she lose her voice in the attempt.
“neteyam! take her to the village if you still want to have the love of your life,” he pushed her into his embrace. without a second thought, he calls his ilu and drove head straight to the village.
the boy waited impatiently in front of the village’s nurse. he traced back and forth and his breath hitched whenever the nurse made any noise. he prayed to the great mother that she will be fine. his meals were untouched and he didn’t bothered fighting along his brother’s side for once.
he loathed the demon ever than before, he prayed his mother would’ve finish him off the second time.
it has been three days and the family is back together. they’ve been healing together spiritually and physically, except one boy who refuses to join them, neteyam. he had been sitting in front of the nurse room for four days full, until he heard a sound.
“neteyam?”
“yes? is she alright?”
“go ahead and see her for yourself,” the nurse opened the curtain.
“(y/n)? are you awake?”
“ne- neteyam? are you hurt?”
“(y/n)! thank the great mother!” he hugged your body so tightly that you might rip apart. “i thought i had lost you!” he cling onto her lap. “promise me you’ll never take a bullet for me again! pinkie promise me!”
“i can’t make promises i can not keep, love…,” you smiled and knitted your ringer finger with his. “do you know what finger is this?”
“um…longer pinkie?”
“no,” you chuckled. “this is a ring finger, a ring is put in the right side for engagement and left for marriages.”
“then i will never have to lose you with our ring fingers attached,” he rest his forehead on yours.
“how could you lose me, when i see you,” you smiled and kissed his forehead.
“i see you too.”
today’s a great day to take care of yourself, 🤍
2K notes · View notes
the-cannibal · 2 years
Text
Like a curious puppy
Elder male Yautja X Gender Neutral Reader
Before we continue with this one shot I just want to add that I got inspired (and got permission to write this) from a post by @mintymarabell The post was "Imagine whistling next to your mate and he looks over all flabbergasted and wondering how your making those noises" You can find the post right here! Thank you mintymarabell for letting me write this cute idea!
Also @the-princess-has-resurrected has requested to be tagged in this so here you go!
It was a nice warm day for once in the jungle. Not too hot to the point you are sweating and panting like no tomorrow, but also not pouring down rain like the sky is trying to give you (a very cold) shower. You decided to go along with your mate and watch him try his luck with fishing. Besides, there was no way you were gonna pass up on the chance to see him waist deep in the lake, muscles flexing as he tried to catch fish with his spear. You may be a "foolish ooman" as some of the other yautja say, but you weren't that foolish! Laying on your back in the soft grass, you watched as creatures flew above you, and landed in the trees. They sung songs like the little song birds back home on earth. Closing your eyes and puckering your lips, you began to join them in their little song and whistle. The creatures stopped all noises, as if they were shocked to hear an unfamiliar but at the same time familiar sound. They softy sung back to you, seeing if you would continue. And when you did, they happily joined you in the little made up song you all created. Suddenly you felt cooler before. You peaked an eye open to see your mate hovering over you, a curious gleam in his eye as he tilted his head. "Yes my love?" You asked. His mandibles softly clicked as he pointed a finger at your lips. "Hmm? What?" "That noise. What was it?" Your mate asked. "Oh! You mean my whistling?" The big alien nodded and sat down in front of you. Even sitting, his height still towered over you. "Do it again? Please?" Oh how were you going to turn down his request? Especially with that cute face of his! You nodded with a smile and began whistling once again. Your mate practically had stars in his eyes as he listened to you. He took you in his arms as you continued to whistle and sat you down on his lap. It was moments like this that made you remember at times he was like a curious puppy. There was always new ooman things to show him and surprise him with. "It reminds me of the birds back on your planet." He said as you finished singing to him. "That's exactly what I thought!" You grinned up at him. "Do you know how to whistle?" He shook his head and pointed to his mandibles. "I don't think I could with these." You hummed, leaning against his bare chest. "I do suppose they would make it a bit difficult. But hey..." You gently kissed the side of them, making a light blush come to his cheeks. "At least they're cute!" That earned you a trail of happy clicks as he nuzzled his forehead against your, his way of kissing you back.
Now whistling was something your mate asked you to do often. Before you go to bed. When he has had a rough day. While you patch up his injuries. And so so many more times. But... There is a bonus to him liking your little sound so much. Remember how he's like a curious puppy? Well... Now whenever you can't find him you just end up puckering your lips and singing a sweet tune. He comes running towards you each time, asking for more and showering you in compliments and praises. Just like a puppy. If he had a tail you were sure it would be wagging a hundred miles an hour.
1K notes · View notes
totheblood · 1 year
Text
begging for rain. (two)
Tumblr media
󠁐# TWO; the more you break
PAIRING: ex!ellie williams x nextdoorneighbor!reader
SUMMARY: moving to a new town can be tough, especially as you are trying to hold everything in your life together. after you meet ellie, your life completely changes, but for the better? well that's still up in the air
WARNINGS: mentions of death, grief, related subjects; cursing, mentions of drinking/drugs, mentions of s*x,
WORD COUNT: 3.1k
A/N :new chapter yay!! okay so like i'm setting a lot of stuff up and i know that so annoying and frustrating but i really need to paint a picture of dynamics so i hope u enjoy. AI AUDIOS AT THE END ! please please please like and reblog/reply/send asks, comments, the whole nine yards… it is so appreciated!
READ CHAPTER ONE HERE!!
TWO YEARS AGO
The first day of school went okay.
Inside the hallways, students pushed past each other, sweaty bodies mixing and mingling into a tangled mess. Blue lockers were lined up against the walls, many of them open as students shoved heavy textbooks inside them from their backpacks. 
Ellie pushed past them like she was used to it, a ratty leather backpack hanging off her shoulder. Occasionally, she would look behind her to see if you were still following her. You always were. 
You didn’t quite know where you were going. You knew your locker number was tucked deep inside your bag and whenever Ellie stopped at her locker was when you were going to pull it out and ask her to show you where it is. However, you were now feeling like you were slightly stalking Ellie and there was some truth to her words. When Ellie stopped at her locker, Locker 2094, she looked at you for only a moment before she was undoing the built-in lock. 
“You know you can’t follow me all day,” she said dryly, lock clicking open and her locker door almost hitting you in the face. You decided it was time for you to get your locker number, pulling your bag to the front and unzipping the front pocket where your locker number and lock combination was written on a crumpled-up pink post-it note. 
“I’m not following you, Ellie,” You rolled your eyes, unraveling the post-it note, “I was just waiting for a good time to find this.”
“And what is that?” She gave you a weird look and shoved a textbook in her locker, then another. 
“My locker number,” You said simply, looking at the number and chuckling to yourself.
“What’s so funny?” She wasn’t looking at you anymore, just fishing around in her bag for anything she may have had to put in her locker. 
“This is my locker,” You patted the one right next to Ellie’s, right where you were standing to the left of her, “Locker 2093.”
Ellie chuckled dryly again, closing her locker and leaning up against it as she watched you struggle to put your lock combination in, “You’ve taken this stalker thing too far.”
With a click, it popped open, empty and barren. You opened your bag and shoved the one textbook you had inside your locker, a smile planted on your face, “Yes, I’ve just been so obsessed with you since I saw you for the first time yesterday that I called the school district and got my locker to be next to yours.”
“Aha! So you admit it!” Ellie laughed, picking at her fingernails as she looked around the hallways, looking for familiar faces. A group of them walked up, all laughing and talking with each other as they circled Ellie around your locker. 
“Hey, El,” a girl said, causing you to look up at her. She was pretty, too pretty. She had her black hair tied up in a ponytail, her skin was olive and slightly tanned, and she had some sun spots scattered across her face, pooling in a center near her nose. Next to her was a slightly taller and much paler girl with black hair cut right above her shoulder, the jagged and uneven edges indicating she cut it herself. Behind them, a much taller guy, with longer black hair and a kind face stood. He smiled at you, and you offered him a kind smile back. Be nice, you cursed, you’re here to make friends, you reminded yourself.
“Hey Dina,” Ellie smirked, leaning back against her locker and looking at the group, “I see your hair is already growing back, Cat,” Ellie reached forward to play with the edges of Cat’s hair before she swatted Ellie’s hands away from her and scoffed.
“You fucked up my hair and you know that,” Her tone of voice was playful at most, evidenced by the wide grin on her face. She was insanely pretty even with her hair all fucked up. You didn’t know why but it made your stomach churn. “Are you going to introduce us to your new friend, Ellie?”
Your eyes widened and darted to Ellie and then to the group, hoping embarrassment wasn’t written all over your face. 
“This is Y/n,” Ellie smiled at you, jumping slightly when you slammed your locker shut, “She’s my new neighbor and stalker.”
“Hey!” You rolled your eyes, a smile still on your face, “I am her neighbor, but I’m not a stalker.”
“Ellie’s just too full of herself. Ignore her,” The girl in the ponytail stepped a little closer and extended a hand, “I’m Dina.”
You shook her hand, mumbling a ‘nice to meet you’ before shifting awkwardly and retracting your hand. The guy in the back raised his hand slightly and smiled at you, “I’m Jesse.” 
“Nice to meet you, Jesse,” you then looked at the last girl waiting for her to introduce herself. When she didn’t speak, you took it upon yourself to ask, “And sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“It’s Cat,” she responded flatly. Her tone was a little icy, but you weren’t sure if you were just feeling insecure or she was actually trying to snub you. 
“Well, it’s nice to meet you,” a nervous breathy laugh fell from your lips and you tightened your grip on your backpack strings, “It sucks moving senior year so I’m glad to make some new friends.”
“Why did you move senior year?” Cat spoke up finally, “You’re not like a psycho bitch that got kicked out of her last school?” 
“Cat!”
“C’mon, Cat!” Dina and Ellie chimed in at the same time in your defense. You were admittedly thrown off by the comment but, yet again, you made an excuse for her. Maybe she was just curious. Or maybe she wanted to protect herself and her friends. 
“What? I want to know,” she defended herself. 
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you laughed, giving her a smile. Be nice, your head rang once again. “It’s a valid question. But, no, uh, my dad died and we couldn’t afford to live where we were living anymore.”
Her smug smile fell, and instead, it was laced with empathy or more importantly pity. You hated it. Your newfound ability to ruin the moment. A moment that was supposed to be sweet. A fresh start. Already, you had clouded the new with your past.
“I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to force you to say that or anything,” Cat apologized and it sounded genuine. It felt genuine. 
“It’s totally okay. I’m fine, I’m mostly over it anyways,” That was a bold lie. You were nowhere close to over it but you couldn’t help but want them to like you. To think you were totally normal and carrying no baggage. 
“No, it’s not okay,” Ellie spoke up again, shooting a glance to Cat, that made her scoff and roll her eyes. 
“I said I was sorry,” Cat shrugged, “What more do you want from me?” 
“Maybe don’t call people ‘psycho bitches’ when you first meet them,” Ellie stood up straighter, crossing her arms over her chest and Cat glanced at you again, colder this time. 
“You’re unbelievable, Ellie,” She was looking at Ellie again, shooting daggers at her. You were unsure what was going on so you glanced at Dina and Jesse for help. All Dina did was slightly shake her head, a subtle way of telling you to not get involved. 
“I’m unbelievable?”
“Yes! You’re unbelievable! Scolding me in front of people like I’m your fucking child or something,” Cat was getting irritated and it showed itself in her face. She had one of those faces that couldn’t hide what she was feeling.
“Then don’t act like a child,” Ellie said simply, causing Cat to let out a huff and turn around, push past Jesse, and leave the group. Ellie closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the locker, letting out a heavy sigh, “I should go after her. Can you guys help her to her first class?”
Dina nodded quickly before shooing Ellie off with her hand, “Go, go! It’s fine.” Ellie took one look at you and offered a smile that said ‘I’m sorry’. What she actually said was: “Meet me by my car at the end of the day. I’ll take you home.” 
With that Ellie disappeared into the sea of people until she was no longer in sight. 
“What was that?” you asked Dina and Jesse. 
“Trust me,” Dina looked at you, “You don’t want to know.”
-
Your first class was English with Mrs. Porter. She made you stand at the front of the classroom and introduce yourself. Jesse was in this class with you and when you were done giving a brief introduction to yourself he loudly clapped and cheered. The gesture made you smile and eased some of the tension you were feeling. 
A few people followed him, by cheering and offering you a high five as you moved back to your seat. Everyone seemed to be enamored by him. During class, people would send him notes on little Post-it notes, he would open them, laughing as he read them and wrote some messages back to them. It was subtle, but you could tell he opened up a room. 
At lunch you walked into the large cafeteria, looking around for a place to sit. You were sure you looked like a lost dog as you wandered around because a girl with long brunette hair walked up to you with a smile on her face. She was pretty and dressed in a button-up and plaid skirt. It felt too formal for school.
“Hey, you’re new, right?” She asked.
“Uh, yeah.”
“I’m Ingrid,” She looked you up and down, “do you need a place to sit?”
“Y/n!” your name was being called from a familiar voice, causing you to snap your head in that direction to see Ellie standing up and waving her hand in the air, “Come sit with us!”
“Oh, I’m just going to sit with,” You pointed to the table where Ellie was still standing and staring intently at you, “my friends.”
Ingrid’s smile fell as she shot a glance toward the table. You were obviously missing something. You turned to move towards the table before the girl gripped your arm firmly. 
“Wait, I didn’t catch your name,” That smile was back. 
“Y/n,” you told her.
“Y/n,” she repeated, “Pretty name.”
“Thanks,” you scratched the back of your neck, “Well, I’ll see you around.” You quickly rushed to the table, confused about the interaction once again. This place was fucking weird.
You sat down next to Ellie who was laughing at something Cat said. Cat’s eyes sparkled when she looked at Ellie. Brown and glossy as she laughed with Ellie, shaking her head. Her cheeks were slightly pink and she reached over to grab an apple slice out of Ellie’s lunchbox. When Ellie looked back at Cat her eyes didn’t sparkle in the same way that Cat’s did. They were verging on dull, but the corner of Ellie’s eyes still had wrinkles as she smiled. 
“Hey!” She grabbed the apple from Cat’s hand, “Get your own apples.” 
“Yours just taste better,” she giggled, smiling at you as you sat down, “Hey, how was your first day?”
She was being much nicer and her energy was much calmer. It was obvious she and Ellie had made up in the time from this morning to now, but you also had to wonder if Ellie told her to be nicer to you. 
“It’s going well,” You shrugged, pulling out the brown bag your mom had packed for you, “I’m still getting used to everything.” 
“You’ll get the hang of it,” Ellie commented, taking another bite of her apple, “Hey, what did Ingrid want?”
“Oh,” You looked over to Ingrid’s table where she was chatting and eating with a group of people, “She just asked me if I wanted to sit with her.”
Dina, who was sitting across from you, practically choked on her food as she laughed. Cat was also laughing to herself as she raised her eyebrows, and looked down at her food. Jesse had a small smile on his face as he took another chip from his bag and took a loud bite. The only person who wasn’t laughing was Ellie, who gave a brief glance at Ingrid’s table before looking back at you. 
“Am I missing something?” 
“No, it’s just,” Ellie started, taking a deep breath and wondering how much she wanted to explain, “be careful with her. She’s…”
“Friendly,” Dina finished Ellie’s sentence, a smirk on her face. Obviously, friendly didn’t mean friendly but you didn’t know what that meant. 
“Do you like girls?” Cat asked bluntly. 
“Cat,” Ellie warned again, making Cat drop what she was eating and roll her eyes. 
“We need to know if we want to warn her,” She stated simply. 
“Like romantically?” You asked, making everyone giggle again. You felt like you were missing a joke. 
“Yeah, romantically,” Cat answered. 
“Oh, yeah,” You looked around to see everyone’s reactions. You ignored the way Ellie’s cheeks tinged pink, “is that a… problem?”
“No,” Cat said flatly, her tone was cold again, “we all like girls.”
“Oh,” you said, taking out your sandwich from the ziplock bag and taking a bite. 
“Let’s just say that Ingrid has been friendly with all of us,” Dina said, throwing a piece of popcorn at Jesse, “including Jesse.”
“At this point, initiation into this group should require hooking up with Ingrid,” Cat laughed.
“No,” Ellie said almost too fast, causing Cat to give her a confused look, “I can’t deal with another person getting convinced that Ingrid wants to be in a relationship with them. Plus, I can see into her room from mine. What if I look over and see Ingrid’s tits.”
“Nothing you haven’t seen before,” Cat said bitterly. There was that tension again.
“Well, I don’t really think I want to be involved with anyone anyways,” you mentioned, taking another bite. 
“Why not?” Ellie questioned, eyes boring a hole into the side of your face. 
“It’s just too complicated,” You shrugged, taking a sip of your water, “I’m new and it’s hard enough making friends, I don’t need anything messing that up.”
Ellie swallowed hard, and took another bite of her apple, just nodding at what you said like she understood. 
“Well, now you have friends,” Dina spoke up, dissipating some of the tension. You took another bite, smiling with the food tucked into your cheeks. 
-
As the day ended you went back to your locker to collect your stuff, expecting Ellie to be at hers, but she wasn’t there. You paid no mind to it as you opened your locker. However, inside sat a note, a yellow Post-It note that looked like it had been crumpled up a few times. On it, it read: “Couldn’t stop looking at you all day. Hope this isn’t weird, you’re just so beautiful. I hope I can get the courage to say it to your face. - your secret admirer”
Tumblr media
Normally, this would have made you feel good about yourself. A random stranger thinks you are beautiful? Yea, that would boost anyone’s ego. Except this stranger knew your locker number and had admitted to watching you all day. A weird pit formed in the bottom of your stomach as you stuffed the note in your bag, knowing you would ruminate on it sometime later. Quickly, you packed up your stuff and made your way to the parking lot.
There, Ellie was leaning against her car, phone in hand. She was so focused on what she was typing that she didn’t even notice you walking up to her. 
“Hey, ready to go?” You spoke, causing her to look up and smile at you. 
“Yeah,” She shrugged, before pausing a moment, green eyes scanning your face, “what’s wrong? Did something happen?”
You let out a nervous laugh as you shook your head.
“What? I’m fine.”
“You look weird.”
“Thank you?”
“Not like that,” she stopped you, putting her hands up, ”You just look upset but I don’t know you that well so I could be wrong.”
“You are wrong,” you grumbled, heading to the passenger side and hopping in the car. Ellie just scoffed, rolled her eyes, and got in the driver's seat. 
“Well fuck me for caring then,” she mumbled to herself, starting the engine.
“It’s not-” you stopped yourself, taking a deep breath, “It’s just been a long day, I’m sorry if I was rude. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
She paused for a moment as if you had said something wrong, then she looked at you, green eyes scanning your face once more. She looked shocked, surprised almost. It was all so confusing.
“It’s fine, I’m just being an asshole,” She laughed, turning back to the road and putting the car in reverse, “My day was long too.”
“Want to talk about it?” 
“It’s,” She turned down the music so she could speak, “Cat.”
“Are you guys a thing?” You crossed your hands in your lap and absentmindedly played with your fingers.
“It’s complicated,�� she sighed, heading out onto the open road, “Kind of, but it’s not really official.”
“Why?”
“I can’t commit.”
“Oh,” you looked over at her and watched her nose scrunch slightly like she was uncomfortable with the conversation, “I could sense the tension today.”
“She’s just…” Ellie made a weird movement with her head, “like that.”
“Why can’t you commit?”
“We’ve had our issues in the past,” Ellie shrugged, “at the end of the day I just can’t trust her and I can’t date someone I don’t trust.”
“You guys just seem so close,” you mentioned eyes drifting to the road again, the trees, and all the storefronts you had yet to explore. 
“We are, and she’s a good friend,” Ellie coughed, “a little protective, but good. But romantically, I don’t really trust her. She swears she only wants me but I don’t know if I believe that.”
“Damn,” You laughed. Ellie looked over at you and laughed too. The air in the car was much lighter now.
“Yeah, I just don’t know how much of it I can do this year,” Ellie’s smile fell, as she approached her house, “but you didn’t ask all of that. I’m sorry I overshared.”
“Shut up, you didn’t overshare,” you laughed, unbuckling as Ellie pulled into her driveway, “and I did ask.”
“Well, thanks for listening, anyways,” Ellie smiled as she looked at her door and then back at you, “do you want to come in and do homework together? Joel’s not gonna be home till late.”
“I’d love that.”
ai audios:
669 notes · View notes