Tumgik
#I know this feeling would pass if I talked to a friend or family member but that's what happens when u live in japan smdh
444lec33 · 1 month
Text
The Arrangement // Mafia!Lando x Reader Pt. 2
Part 1 can be found here
Part 3 can be found here
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary: Your engagement party is underway and Lando has a surprise up his sleeve
WC: 2k
No descriptions of reader's physical appearance
Warnings: Lando being extremely soft?? Arranged marriage AU, terrible parents
Author's note: I'm kind of obsessed with the way this turned out. Happy reading everyone 🧡
Exactly one week later you found yourself the center of attention at the lavish engagement party your family and the Norris clan planned. The night dragged on at a snail’s pace as you made your rounds talking to dozens of people you didn’t know but had to invite for your families’ sake. What surprised you was how little of your fiancé you’d seen thus far. The two of you had barely spoken except for sharing a hug and exchanging pleasantries for the nosy onlookers that filled the grand space. Even though your interaction was brief, Lando didn’t miss the chance to compliment your choice of outfit for the occasion.
“Any particular reason why you aren’t wearing the dress I picked for you? You know, the one your father and I spent thousands of dollars on.” Leave it to your mother to make her biggest priority her desires instead of yours even on a night that was supposedly about you. You sighed as your mother tugged you close to her leaning in and whispering while maintaining a smile for the guests. “We don’t want the Norris family getting the wrong idea about you and pulling the plug on all this. You know your father and I will never forgive you if you ruin this for us.” 
You beckoned over a passing waiter and downed a flute of expensive champagne in one gulp. “Well my future husband had nothing but good things to say about my choice of dress.”
You could feel your mother’s energy shift at this new information. Of course she’d be satiated as long as nothing got in the way of her scheming. “Well in that case, good choice.” 
Your rolled your eyes and put space between yourself and your mother, seeking out the company of people who’d actually care about you. Your friend Hannah was more than happy to oblige your need for camaraderie. It wasn’t long before the rest of your girl friends joined in on the gathering. 
Your friend Elisa joined the group next. She couldn’t help but laugh as she shared the juicy intel she was clearly holding in. “Your boyfriend is outside,” she wiggled her eyebrows at you. Well now you definitely had the attention of the your entire bridal party. 
There was a sly smirk on your face as you put your glass to your lips. “Which one?”
A series of laughs erupted among you all as you wondered which of your flings would be stupid enough to show up here of all places, especially with the threat of crossing paths with Lando and his men. Probably Charles. No, definitely Charles. 
The new knowledge gave you an added layer of confidence you planned to carry throughout the night. Even though you’d spent the week effectively ended things with all the men in your contacts it was still nice to know they were having trouble letting go of you. Besides the Ferrari Pista, you wondered what other luxury cars lingered outside the venue hoping to act as your getaway car. 
It wasn’t long before your father approached you all, reminding you this was an engagement party. Your engagement party, not some girls’ night out. You couldn’t be bothered to talk back so you simply obliged, quickly finding yourself sharing conversations with everyone from your future in-laws to other prominent members of the lucrative world you and Lando belonged to. The most serene moment of the night came when you sat with your grandmother. She was the person you were closest to in this world so the solace she provided you was no surprise. 
You rested your head on her shoulder and closed your eyes thankful for her proximity. “My little angel is all grown up now.” 
“And yet I still feel like a child with everyone making all my decisions for me…”
Your grandmother chuckled, ready to scold you. “Maybe you’ve forgotten but I was in your shoes once. You know your grandfather and I came together this exact same way.” You groaned hating the fact that she was right. A lecture was definitely coming your way. 
“Do you think I loved your grandfather?”
“Of course.”
“And do you think he loved me?”
“Of course he did! More than anything.” Anyone who’d ever spent time with your grandparents was well aware of the deeply genuine love shared between them. 
“It didn’t happen overnight but we learned to love each other. I know you are about as stubborn as they come but I want you to listen to me. If the two of you are open with one another you never know what may be in store. Then maybe when you’re my age you’ll be the one giving your granddaughter advice from your own love story.” 
Her words hung heavy in your mind. There wasn’t a chance to respond before a recognizable form approached the secluded area you and your grandma inhabited. You tried not to stare as he sauntered over, his well tailored suit giving him an appearance nearly as illegal as his family business. 
“Ladies, I hope I’m not interrupting,” Lando began standing in front of you both. Your grandmother swatted your knee underneath the table knowing it was all she could do to keep a sly remark from leaving your lips. 
“No need to apologize, honey.” Your grandmother reached out, giving Lando’s hand a gentle squeeze. 
“Nana, would it be possible for me to steal your granddaughter for a moment.” Did he just call your grandmother ‘Nana'? The sweet smile gracing her face was enough to show that Lando’s charm had unmatchable reach. 
“It won’t be long before she’s all yours and I’m the one asking for time with her.” Although her tone was lighthearted you knew there was merit to her words. 
Lando was quick to quell your grandmother’s concern, assuring she’d be welcome as often and whenever she pleased once the two of you started your life together. Lando pulled your grandmother in for a hug that honestly made your heart swell. Maybe he wasn’t as cold as you’d written him off to be. He laced his fingers through yours, his authoritative grip dragging you through the crowd of guests who couldn’t help but ogle the golden couple of the night. 
“Where the hell are you taking me?” You questioned as Lando pulled you out of the venue and into the night air. He gave a nod to his men that littered the lawn letting them know the two of you would be needing privacy. 
The light of the full moon was the only thing illuminating your faces as Lando finally spoke. 
“Did you think about our chat from the other night?” Just ripped the bandage right off. 
You knew exactly which aspect of your talk he wanted answers for but you weren’t going to give in that easily. 
“Yes actually,” you tilted your head at him. “Pretty hard to forget you accosting me in my mother’s garden and shoving your tongue down my throat.” 
“Accosted,” Lando scoffed in disbelief. “I did not accost you into doing anything. In fact, I recall you being a pretty involved participant in the entire ordeal.” 
“Hmm, whatever helps you sleep at night,” you conceded, hating the enjoyment he felt at rehashing your last link. 
“But seriously, what did you decide?” 
You took a deep breath and closed your eyes before you began. You were going to have to admit you were giving into Lando and his proposal. “I gave it some thought.” You but your lip and found yourself picking at your nails feeling more awkward than ever. “I’m in. Let’s give it a try.” 
Lando’s eyes were the size of saucers. Your words had clearly caught him off guard. Of course he’s spent the last seven days hoping he’d win you over but he never expected your turn around to come so quickly. 
“Are- are you serious?” You couldn’t ignore the hopeful glimmer in his eyes as he scanned your face praying to God this wasn’t another one of your jokes. Knowing that you’d caught him off guard was enough to make this all worth it. 
“Yep, I’m in. Don’t make me say it again or I might change my mind.” Lando nodded seriously willing to do whatever you said at this point. 
You stretched your hand out towards your fiancé for a handshake. “Best business deal you’ve ever made, huh?”
Lando ignored your offer of a handshake, instead opting to lace his fingers with yours. “I was hoping this would be more pleasure than business.” His eyes were bore into yours, hoping to get a rise out of you. His thumb brushed softly against your knuckles. 
“I’ve got something for you. Can’t have you thinking I don’t live up to my word.” You were going to question what he was on about but then Lando did something you didn’t expect. Your gaze was fixed on him as he lowered himself to one knee before you. He took your hand in his as you started back at him bewildered. Was he really doing this?
“You and I know this situation is far from conventional but that doesn’t mean I respect it or you any less.” Lando reached into his jacket to reveal a dark velvet box. His thumb moved to open it as your breath caught in your lungs. Your full name rolled off his lips easily as he revealed the most beautiful ring you’d ever seen. “Since we’re actually doing this I don’t want to skip out on any steps. I know how you feel about all this but the fact that we’re both willing to try must mean something.”
He spoke your name in a dreamy way as his gorgeous eyes fixed on you. “Will you marry me?” 
Your eyes closed and your throat felt dry as your brain began to comprehend that Lando wasn’t the man you’d always assumed him to be. If your gut feeling was right, you couldn’t have been more wrong about the man your family was selling you off to. 
“I mean technically I don’t really have a choice,” you trialed off with a playful tone. What the hell. “Yes Lando, I’ll marry you.” 
Lando couldn’t contain his excitement as he sprung forward pulling you into a passionate kiss. You could feel the smile on his lips as the intimate moment deepened. You were the one to to pull away first, your hands gently pushing against his chest. 
“Not that I didn’t enjoy the kiss or anything but can I have my ring?” 
Lando patted his pockets looking for the ring before he found the small box cast aside in the grass. He was so engrossed in you that he couldn’t focus on anything else. An honest smile spread over your face as you looked at the ring he’d slipped onto your finger. He listened. Like really listened. The ring was better than you ever could have imagined, the gold band perfectly encasing a large, elegant Dutch marquise stone. You were in a trance as you admired your engagement ring. 
“Alright I should probably get you back inside before people start asking questions.” Just as before you found yourself being draped in Lando’s suit jacket, the scent of rich cologne on his lapels causing feelings you’d rather ignore to stir in your stomach. “Wouldn’t want your parents thinking I was out here ruining your innocence.”
Your eyebrows raised at his words. “What the hell makes you think I’m innocent?” A smirk was plastered across your face as your fiancé guided you back towards the venue. “Lando, there’s so much you have to learn about me.”
♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎
Part 3 can be found here
Tags: @jfang97 @notturlover @dr4g0ngirl @noreri @randomnessis-mine-me
765 notes · View notes
httpswritings · 1 month
Text
jealous girl
alexia putellas x reader [+ jana fernandez]; around 900 words; not really angst, just reader being dumb about jana and alexia's friendship.
You were not a jealous girl, not at all, because you thought jealousy was nothing but a waste of time.
As a family member, as a friend and as a girlfriend, you were very easygoing with the people you loved.
That's why when you felt an unfamiliar envious sensation when it came to Alexia's friendship with Jana, you felt quite lost.
Alexia was very dear to you. 
She had been your football “big” sister since you were very young, always making sure you were alright.
You were such a talented girl, always playing at an advanced level compared to girls your age, like Jana, Pina, and Bruna."
That's why you had always been so close with Alexia.
There weren't any girls' your age around, and she felt very comfortable to be with.
The time passed by, and you weren't the youngest one in the team anymore.
It took you some time to adjust, but nothing to worry about.
Jana was a very happy and loving girl.
She was very talkative and always willing to help anyone.
That's why you were deeply upset with yourself for feeling such a horrible emotion towards someone like Jana.
Alexia noticed something was off with you, but she couldn't get you to speak about it.
She didn't insist anymore and hugged you.
Her hugs were very comforting, and you felt like your eight-year-self after hugging her.
She was around when you fell playing and hurt your ankle.
Alexia rushed to hold you and shushed you until you calmed down.
Since that day, you created a very beautiful bond not only with her but with her family, including her sister Alba.
You thought that Alba could feel threatened because Alexia was giving you a lot of attention, but she was very excited to have you as a friend, even insisting Eli to half-adopt you when both of you were still young girls.
The days passed by, and it was very obvious that you were annoyed by something.
Alexia wanted to give you some space during training, so she paired up with Jana.
You were infuriated by her movement, the worst part being that you were behaving like a child, and not like a twenty two-year-old woman. 
You paired up with Frido.
She was very sweet and patient, but you were getting on her nerves.
You excused yourself and headed to the changing room.
You had told Torre and Jona that you were going to leave early, and you'd catch up tomorrow. 
Alexia realized you were missing, and she didn't waste time in pairing Jana with Frido.
You were on your way home when she began calling and messaging you.
Ale <3 
Amor, is everything okay? 
Ale <3
Torre told me you weren't feeling okay.
You felt awful for not responding to her, but it was better than telling her: It's actually because I'm jealous about my teammate because my best friend is not spending all her time with me.
Alexia went to your house and still got no response. 
Ale <3 
Please, open the door 🙁
Ale <3
I can take care of you if you're sick 
Ale <3
I just want to know if you're alright 
Ale <3
Please, I'm very worried 😔 😢😥
You smiled when you saw the emojis. 
You loved to tease Alexia about the amount of emojis she would send.
You stood up and opened the door, and Alexia's face broke your heart. 
Her eyes were teary and she was visibly upset.
“Tell me what's wrong, please.”
You hugged her and lost yourself in her arms.
She was the big sister you never had.
You never knew what sisterly love was until you met Alexia, and then Alba. 
Did you overreact? Definitely. 
You had to be a grownup, whatever was wrong with you was not an excuse to leave training early.
“You're going to laugh—”
“I'm won't. Please, tell me what's wrong.”
You sighed, prepared to be laughed at.
“I missed you. I've been very jealous of Jana because I've felt replaced. I know it's childish and embarrassing, but it's what it is.”
Instead, you received a punch on the arm, not too hard but enough to surprise you.
“Have you gone mad? I thought something had happened to you. Like I was prepared to fight anyone at this point.”
You couldn't look Alexia into her eyes.
Alexia, having calmed down, started to laugh as you tried to escape of her embrace.
“Alexia, fuck off. You told me you were not going to laugh.”
“I'm laughing because you're very adorable. I love Jana, but you're my best friend. Alba would kill me if she knew how you had been feeling.”
“Alexia, this is ridiculous. I'm supposed to be mature, at least a little bit.”
“For me, it's not ridiculous. I'd be fuming if you replaced me with someone else. I've told you before: you'll always be my little football sister. No matter if you're eight or fifty years old. There's nothing nor no one who will be able to change that.”
390 notes · View notes
tommykinard6 · 2 months
Text
Should I be eating and resting? Yes. Am I? No, so come join me for a dissertation on Tommy Kinard being lonely.
Tumblr media
Edit to add a note since I saw a reblog about it: Tommy has no canonical age right now and Lou is 39, 40 later this year, so that is my basis for saying he’s 39.
Now when I say lonely, I don’t mean that he has no one whatsoever. I can picture him going for drinks with his team or having some Muay Thai buddies that he could call up if he really was inclined. Maybe an old army buddy or two.
But there’s something about Tommy that’s just achingly lonely, both when he was at the 118 and now at Harbor.
Tommy had a broken home, or some other kind of unstable childhood. Maybe his parents split, maybe he was mistreated, maybe he was in the system or was passed around family members. Maybe he was isolated as a child because he was a little overweight (I think Lou said something along those lines) and was bullied. I think Tommy didn’t really have any friends until high school, when puberty hit and maybe he started working out and probably joined the football team. I don’t know if anyone remembers what teenage boys are like, but I can imagine they were the same as they are today back in the 90s/early 00’s. Because around this time, Tommy might’ve started to realize that something was very different about him.
Now this isn’t a meta about how I think Tommy dealt with his sexuality (maybe I’ll do one of those later) but I think he never would’ve risked his football friends knowing even if he himself could acknowledge it, which I doubt. So he messed around, got in trouble with these guys, hung out with the bros, and pretended to be interested in girl talk.
Of course, eventually, his buddies all got girlfriends and he was always the odd one out again.
He didn’t do college. The army was his next step. And I feel like this might have been the first time in his life he wasn’t lonely. He’d learned to blend in by this point and he worked with some great people. But as he started making real friends for the first time, he also started losing them as the war tore them away.
Tommy left the army and joined the fire department. There was an aching hole where the camaraderie of the army had filled previously and with no education beyond a high school diploma, Tommy thought the fire department would replicate that. Not the police though. He’d had enough of guns.
(And ohhhh now so many ideas on his thoughts during the sniper)
But he ended up at the 118 and quickly realized that his team had maybe more of a DADT stance than the army. He realized that he had to put on an elaborate act to fool his fellow firefighters, who had more time on their hands and more prejudice they were willing to wield to pick apart his life. Tommy, who maybe had only just started to acknowledge he felt differently about guys with less panic than before, had no choice but to backslide. He acted and acted and crafted a person he wasn’t until the day that maybe he was. Sal was his closest buddy at the 118 and Tommy had no doubt that Sal would be one of the first to make his life hell. Gerrard seemed to look at Tommy as some sort of mentee. Boxed in by two notorious bigots, Tommy had never felt more claustrophobically alone.
Chim was the first one to reach out a hand of friendship, or at least the first one that didn’t come with caution tape, but he was also an “other” and Tommy, who was confused and afraid and had just had his captain call his bluff on his fake girlfriend, lashed out. Then he allowed Chim in and Chim wasn’t interested in being besties but he was a great drinking buddy and movie buddy and Tommy felt safest around him.
Then Hen came and Tommy watched her get the same treatment he was afraid of. Not that he had to worry about the racism, and he was aware of the privilege, but Hen didn’t exactly hide herself and he watched them bully his lesbian coworker. He let himself get pulled into it all and hated himself for it, but was too cowardly to break away from it. He wasn’t sure why Hen had forgiven him, but she became the only other person on shift he felt even a little safe around other than Howie. But then Chimney and Hen became best friends and Tommy fell to the wayside. They still included him, sure, but they were always a pair and there was something there that Tommy didn’t know but longed for. A closeness he’d never felt.
A best friend. A juvenile idea to him, but one he’d never truly had.
Then Gerrard was gone and Sal got transferred and the 118 moved forward under Captain Nash, but Tommy felt left behind, even in what was the most united A shift team yet. Because he was over 30 and was starting to be unable to ignore everything that he’d had to hide under Gerrard, as he no longer had a distraction from it.
He’d been a pilot in the army, so he transferred to Harbor. And Harbor was great. He wasn’t best buds with anyone (he was starting to think that was never in the cards for him) but his team didn’t carry the same baggage that the 118 had.
So Tommy started to come to terms with himself. He started to date for the first time and came out to his team. And he had several boyfriends, but most couldn’t handle the job or his baggage or the desperate need he had to be wanted. His most long term partner cheated and the one he fell hardest for couldn’t deal when Tommy was injured on the job. Even within his own relationships, he felt like he was destined to stand alone.
Tommy was 39 years old and alone, as always, when Chimney walked back into his life, dragging an adorable and also extremely hot blonde and a stoic brunette that radiated ex military in a way only ex military could know. And then Hen was there and they were trying to rescue their captain and his wife and they clearly loved each other fiercely and like family.
And as Tommy listened, flying through the remnants of a cat 5 hurricane, he thought to himself that he should’ve never left. Simply just never found himself if only that meant being part of the family the 118 was now. However, he knew deep down that he still would’ve been alone and on the outside.
And they rescued the survivors and Tommy thought that was it but then Eddie wanted to hang out. And they liked the same things and had similar experiences and Tommy couldn’t help the hope. Because the loneliness had grown stifling and now he could breathe a little. And then Evan, the cute blonde, wanted a tour of the hanger and he thought that maybe he was being hit on.
And then at the end of it all, Tommy was left realizing that he’d wedged himself between two best friends and that was what happened when he allowed himself to hope. So he went to Evan to apologize. He would get Evan and Eddie to talk to each other and then would fade into the background.
But then Evan was sweet and apologetic and told him that he was part of the 118 family simply by helping them. Tommy couldn’t help it. Here he was, at 39, with a little boy still waiting inside of him to be soothed. And Evan was hot and sweet and Tommy couldn’t help himself.
And he really liked Evan. Evan was adorable. But their first date didn’t go as planned and Tommy knew he was already whipped. So he removed himself before someone could get hurt. Evan deserved better and so did he, even if the loneliness was stifling again.
But then Evan texted him and looked at him with sparkling blue eyes over too sweet coffee and wanted him. Him. He wanted Tommy and to have something with Tommy and he wanted him to come to his sister’s wedding with him.
And Tommy looked at him and saw someone who could finally fill the ache he’d felt his whole life. He saw a man who he knew he wanted to take a chance with. All he had to do was jump.
And he did.
And it wasn’t solved, not immediately and never fully. Too many wounds were left gaping for too long to ever heal. But for the first time in his life, at 39, with the 118 surrounding him and Buck as the sunshine at his side, Tommy finally felt at peace.
378 notes · View notes
gglitch1dd · 12 days
Note
Hey glitch, one of my family members is deaf and so I had to learn sign language at a young age. What if Reader of Izuku or deaf, would the boys learn sign language?
+1 🥦Point.
So if Reader was deaf or Izuku became deaf, DEFINITELY. That's a given. How else would they communicate with their parent?
However, I actually thought about this one headcanon but I'm like 90% sure that Kane is deaf at least on one ear, or he's hard of hearing. I think Katsuki knows but he taught Kane not to tell people so that it wouldn't be seen as a weakness (not in a bad way but Katsuki didn't want Kane to be seen as handicapped when entering UA)
Kane is Half-Deaf?
Tumblr media
"MOM!" Toshinori shouted as he walked into the room as you sat on your husband's lap on his recliner as you both watched trash reality TV. You turned to look at your eldest son who walked in with Kane behind him. He had two sheets of paper in his hand. "Guess what!? We got our ears tested and Kane is half deaf." He motioned to Kane. "It must have been his quirk finally catching up to him." Toshinori sighed and put an arm around Kane in solidarity. "It's okay dude. I'll speak slowly for you."
Kane's bright rose red eyes looked to his best friend with a raised disbelieving eyebrow. "I've always been half deaf."
Your eyes widened and so did Toshinori's. "Wait, WHAT-"
"Now, don't go shouting in my one good ear." He pushed Toshinori off his shoulder as he walked over to sit on the couch near you and Izuku. "I've always been hard of hearing. Why do you think I'm quiet 90% of the time?" He asked.
Toshinori blinked, surprised. "I thought you were just an introvert!"
"That to, but I was born that way." He told you all. He turned to look to the three of you. "I can hear you all just fine with one ear, it kind of just feels like my right ear is forever blocked. It's not like I can't hear it's just muffled. So it's fine, it's nothing to worry about or try and fix. I'd probably become deaf by the age of 40 with all my quirk usage."
You looked to Izuku who looked just as genuinely surprised. "I did not know that." He said softly as he sat up, shifting you in his lap. "Kacchan never told me that." Izuku turned to look at Kane, lifting up his hands around you so that he wouldn't accidentally hurt you. "Why didn't you tell us?" He asked, talking while signing in JSL.
Kane's eyes widened in surprise that Izuku started signing. He opened his mouth to speak but Toshinori spoke first. "Dad, you know sign language!?"
Izuku nodded with a chuckle. "Of course, I do. I learnt it when I first found out that Kacchan would lose his hearing." He stated factually. He paused before rolling his eyes. "I don't care about him understanding me now but it's a good skill to have when dealing with victims who might be deaf."
You looked to Izuku surprised. "I did the same thing." You said signing as well. You turned to Kane, trying to recall the hand gestures as you spoke. "When I first dated your father, I made sure to learn it. However, the Deku Foundation also has deaf workers so we try to make sure everyone who works for the Deku Agency knows basic Japanese sign language."
Kane stared at the both of you before smiling gently. He didn't say anything but instead he signed it. "Thanks."
"Wait! I can't understand you." Toshinori said as he moved to sit down. "How come no one taught me this?!" He asked deeply offended ( left out). He looked to Kane with a frown. "Teach me. Now. Immediately. I can't be having a deaf friend and I can't talk to you effectively. We need to be throwing signs to confuse the enemy."
"Kane has a disability?" Hero asked as he passed by. Kane nodded his head, before he could tell Hero as well, the young eleven year old shrugged. "Makes sense."
"Oh."
"HERO!"
-Glitch1d
256 notes · View notes
house-of-lovin · 1 year
Text
legally binded - 4
Jenna Ortega x F!Reader
masterlist | series mast. | prev part | next part
Chapter 4: Family Bonding, Festivals and Feelings?
Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.
Warnings/Tags: dual!pov, famous!reader, mentions of hard substances, intoxication, mature language, real people (do not read if any of these makes you uncomfortable)
(this is all fiction!)
Note: Things are gearing up 😮‍💨 (ik i said i was gonna take a break, but i couldn’t help myself, now ill take a break lol, happy readin!)
Word Count: 6k+
Tumblr media
“No one’s going to get cancelled — it’ll be fun.” Colin Jost smiles curtly on your flat screen TV.
You sit on the bed with a spoon hanging from your lips, an eye on the bright screen having just finished watching a rerun of Jenna’s SNL episode. You made sure to buy it as soon as it was available; locking yourself away in your room.
Currently, you are watching this week’s episode of SNL and Colin and Che are giving their weekly news update.
“Las Vegas is opening up a pop-up vaccine site in a strip club and don’t worry the strippers say the vaccine comes with singer and actress Y/N L/N. This time she’ll be the designated driver – I heard she’s on a tight leash.”
Your smile instantly drops.
“Speaking of Y/N,” Colin bounces off, reading off the cue cards. “Did you see her last week sitting in the audience during Jenna Ortega’s episode… hey, I wonder if they’re a real thing.”
Colin and Che share a knowing glance, “Nah.” They say in unison then move on to their next bit.
Scowling, you turn the TV off, practically throwing your bowl of cereal on the side table. 
You supposed you can’t be too mad – all too familiar with the snide jabs and harmless jokes from others in the industry. This is what you signed up for, right?
Whatever, you’re sure people are loving it.
It’s been a whole week since you left New York and you haven’t spoken to Jenna. It seems how you two acted back in the Big Apple was a success because it got your managers to back off, for now. You didn’t see a reason to contact the actress so you let the silence pass — you see when she posts on social media. 
You don’t have time to think about it because Coachella weekend is coming up soon. For the first time since Vegas, you will be working and you have been itching – wanting nothing more than to dive head-first into work mode. 
It’s what you do best.
You are invited to do a guest performance on a big producer’s set for the festival. It would be your first ever time performing at Coachella but you were privy to the culture of the festival, having gone as an audience member to support your musician friends.
“Hey, you got a minute?” Link pops his head in your door, holding a phone up.
“Please don’t do this.” Your pleas go underheard.
“I don’t know why you keep trying, the answer is the same Y/N.” Link rolled his eyes, pointing to a house.
“I think this is the one.”
You scan the two-story typical American home tucked away in the boroughs of suburbia up in the desert, otherwise known as Coachella Valley.
Or well, Jenna’s parent’s house at least. 
After Link had dropped the most terrible news; you had to be seen with Jenna in Coachella. Liv and Jake had instructed your team to drive you to stay with Jenna as you prepare for the festival – it was convenient they said.
Convenient my ass.
“Relax... Marcus will be back to pick you up, he’s gonna drop off your bags at the rental house.”
“Why can’t I just go with you then?” You ask.
“Liv said to drive you to this address. Jenna gave explicit directions to drive you here.”
You frown pulling on a loose thread on your sweater.
What could Jenna possibly want that she’d want you here? She looked pretty upset at you, the last time you talked.
You really don’t have it in you to fight with her, again, especially after the long drive from L.A. up to the desert where you thought — you’d be staying in your villa for Coachella weekend.
“Now go see the girl, please.” Link reaches over to open the door.
When you step out, the car is already driving speedily down the street not even giving you a chance to change your mind. You hear a flurry of voices from the side of the house but it sounds far away. Toy cars and trollies litter the grass yard. 
Slowly, you walked up her porch, your shoes scraped as you ascend the concrete steps. Hesitating for a brief moment, you realize: Jenna is inside. Well duh.  But the thought of her on the other side of the door has your heart dropping out of nowhere. You see flashes in your memory of her frown as you explain why you have to leave New York so soon.
Unspoken words as she says ‘well I thought–’
What did she think?
You would probably never know.
The door opens with a creak breaking you out of your thoughts.
“We have to stop meeting like this.” Aliyah leans against the doorframe, smiling.
You laughed, “Yeah, we do.”
She doesn’t say anything else and just yells over her shoulder, “Jenna, she’s here.”
Then walked off. 
“Hi…” Jenna appears, leaning on the doorframe with a hand.
She scans you for a brief moment; not having seen you since New York, a week ago. She had to make sure you’re still alive because she hasn’t heard from you since then.
You also practically ghosted her.
After feeling guilty about how she left things with you, Jenna sent you a text the next day, asking if you made it back to Los Angeles safely.
You liked her message with a thumbs up.
A thumbs up! Not responding would have been better, the actress bitterly thought.
“Hey.” You greet. “How are you?”
“Fine. You?” She answered quickly, smile sealed tight like an envelope.
“I’m… good. Yeah. Just working.” You answer honestly.
“Oh really?” Jenna asked.
“Yeah, something for Coachella actually.”
Jenna raised her brows in surprise. “Like what?”
You send a tight-lipped smile, “It’s a surprise. People don’t know I’m here yet.”
Jenna can’t fight her excitement; giddy about being in on a secret. But then she remembers that she’s supposed to be annoyed at you and not fascinated.
“Why haven’t you texted me?” Jenna sighed, her voice dropping to a lowly whisper, in case someone was walking by.
You raised your brows, surprised by her question. “Oh… um. I’ve been busy like I said, just working, trying to keep my head down and all that.”
“Are you sure that’s it?” She asked accusingly.
You missed her tone and shrugged, reassuring her, “Yeah. Of course.”
“But, I heard you were busy this week too, filming another movie with Barry Keoghan and The Weeknd?” You changed the subject, hoping to talk about something else. She takes the bait after scanning your eyes for a second.
“Yeah, it was just a short role. But it was a lot of fun. Abel actually talked about you.”
“That’s great, I’m happy for you Jen… and yeah he’s an old friend.”
“Sung your praises pretty high, I had to make sure he was talking about the right person.”
You chuckle, “Oh okay, I see how it is.”
Your laugh caused a sudden warmness to manifest in Jenna and she couldn't help but join along. “Come on, my family has been dying to see you again.”
“Really?” You asked, stepping inside her childhood home. “So you think I made a good impression?”
She turned to look back at you, surprised that you care. “Maybe… don’t let it get to your head, though.”
You laughed as you followed her through the house. “Is that jealousy I hear Ortega? Scared you won't be the only movie star around?”
She snorted, rolling her eyes. “Shut up. You’re an idiot.”
“An idiot that may have impressed your family?” You cocked your head and grinned wide.
“Yeah, yeah. Like, I said. Don’t let it get to your head. They could care less about celebrities and Hollywood. They’re pretty grounded.”
You shrugged, looking at the various family pictures hanging on the wall. “It’s fine. There’s only one Ortega I want to impress anyway.”
You’re not sure where that came from and it seemed Jenna shared the same thought because she raised her brows at you – but didn’t comment.
Jenna blocks you from walking when you reached the sliding glass door. “What?”
Jenna chewed her lip anxiously, “My family can be a lot. In numbers and in the other sense too. There’s a lot of us.”
“Oh… that’s okay.” You answered. A bit confused as to why she is telling you this. When you see her genuine concern your gaze softens. “Jenna, relax. I can handle the family… and I can charm anyone’s socks off.”
She relented, rolling her eyes at your joke. “Okay, okay.”
"Wait..."
Jenna turns around.
"Why am I here exactly? At your parents, that is. Link told me that you gave my driver instructions to bring me here."
Jenna bites her lip in contemplation. "Um—like I said my family wanted to see you again and I heard you were going to Coachella anyway so you know, two birds one stone."
You nod, accepting her answer.
Jenna opens the door for you two to step out.
Sounds of laughter rang around as you and Jenna sat in lawn chairs in her parent’s backyard.
“What are Timothee Chalamet and Zendaya like in real life?” Markus – Jenna’s brother leaned forward to ask. 
“Markus!” Jenna scolded and threw her brother a glare.
The actress blushed as she sat beside you but all she felt was the vibrations of your laughter, indulging her brother’s question. 
Jenna can’t help but wonder if you have other family members that spend time with you like this. You look so carefree and genuinely happy; comfortable around her family — after knowing you for a couple months now; she guesses it’s a no.
“They’re cool. Just like everyone else to be honest. Especially, Timothee, sweet guy but he’s a bit of a typical frat bro.” You joked, “And Zendaya, well. She’s just as amazing as everyone says she is. Great work ethic, it’s inspiring when you work with someone passionate like that – makes you want to be better and work harder.”
Jenna’s sisters are eating your story up. Secretly she knew they enjoyed the tales of celebrities and pop culture. It’s nearly impossible to live your life without seeing a public figure pop up on an ad on your phone or on the side of a bus stop on your drive home. 
Jenna is barely home enough to be able to have moments like this where she can humour her sister's questions. But they all had their own lives to live. She's has been looking forward to this break for a while, knowing it was coming up after her long week in New York.
She still can’t describe New York.
Something seems to have shifted between you two by the end of the week. But she didn’t know if it was for the better. The two of you have this constant push and pull; where everything is fine one moment, then one of you says something and it turns tense and weird as you both stay silent or you just completely blow up on each other.
Jenna didn’t know if she had it in her to try to decipher what these restrained responses she gets from you could possibly mean.
You are an enigma; a defensive, hot-headed asshole that grinded every gear the actress had.
“Do you like Zendaya, buddy?” You bounced her niece in your lap, enjoying how the baby grabbed at your fingers. 
But then Jenna turns around and you act like this. Sweet, protective, charming. 
How are you the same person?
She can’t fight her smile as she watched the adorable sight.
Jenna didn’t know you were good with babies. 
“I think Z would think you’re just the most adorable thing. Oh my god, Jen, can I send her a picture of us?” You turned to her, with a bright smile.
Jenna didn’t know when you started calling her by her nickname but she certainly won’t say how she enjoys how it sounds when you say it. “Uh–sure, if it’s okay with my sister.”
“Zendaya’s gonna have a picture of my baby on her phone? Uh yes!”
Jenna laughed, nodding. “I’ll take the picture.” She took your phone, opening the camera.
“What are you doing? Get in here with us." You asked with an adorable scrunch in the nose, surprising Jenna.
“Oh, I just thought— okay.” She swallows her growing grin, sliding in beside you.
Her sisters share knowing glances.
You happily scooted in, pressing your chest to her back.
Jenna is suddenly reminded of her you and her, alone in her dressing room.
She presses back into you. 
“Say, cheese guys!” Jenna clears her throat.
With big bright smiles, you placed your head above her shoulder to get in the frame, repeating, “Cheese!”
Even her niece seemed to be enjoying the attention as she smiled brightly and toothless while standing on your lap with her chubby legs. Jenna snapped a couple for good measure, checking over the pictures. The three of you are squished together as she held it in portrait; you all looked cute Jenna can admit. 
Like a little family.
What?
“Oh Jenna, send me that, please. I want to post it on my Instagram.” Her mom spoke up already reaching for her phone. 
“Okay, okay.” Jenna rolled her eyes but sent herself the pictures first before airdropping them to – everyone – who begged for it. 
“This is adorable, I think I’m gonna make this my lock screen.” You grinned, staring at the photo. She sees you typing a message, indeed sending it to the actress like you said you would. “Just for your niece.”
Jenna felt her heart skip a beat. “Are you saying you’re gonna crop me out the photo?”
“No… but now that’s a good idea, thanks.” You mocked with a smile.
“Mom, how did you already post that picture so fast?” Mia asked.
“Don’t be mad.” Jenna begged.
“Mad? Jenna. This isn’t what I signed up for.” You pinched the bridge of your nose.
The two of you were standing in her driveway, in a discord of course. Jenna just forced you into another situation that you wanted no part of.
“You just told Link to call off my driver and now you’re saying don’t be mad. Of course, I’m mad! Why did you say yes to your Mom, Jenna.” You sighed, dropping your hand limply.
“I didn’t know she’d insist.” She groaned walking closer, “She said that you shouldn’t stay in that big house by yourself for the weekend when there is room here, next thing I know she’s forcing me to ask you in front of everybody.”
"I'm sorry." She grabs your arm. “Link said you might be mad.”
You stare at her for a couple of moments. Their hearts are in the right place, you guessed. Eventually, you rolled your eyes and sighed. “Thank you I guess… I appreciate that the sentiment.”
Jenna smiled in relief, “Yeah, of course.” Then scrunched her nose in thought.  “We actually really don’t have the room so I don’t know where she’ll put you.”
She should have known. This is so typical and cliche; sharing a bed trope? Please, can the universe be any more unoriginal? 
“Mom, are you sure?” Jenna whispered as she peaked her head out the small awning of the door – making sure you can’t hear. 
“Jen, go to sleep. We have a packed day tomorrow. Everyone’s coming over for the game.”
Tomorrow is sports night and her uncles, aunts, cousins and grandparents are set to come over. It was a weekly tradition for the extended family to host a gathering to watch the game every Friday; with Jenna’s busy schedule, she hasn’t been to one in months. She’s grateful this one is hosted at her house but then inwardly sighed because she should probably warn you about that too.
“Mom…” She pleaded in a whisper.
“Goodnight and be responsible. I trust you two.”
“Mom!”
Jenna dropped her head in defeat as she listened to her Mom’s footsteps dwindle further away. 
“Hey, you should probably get in there before all the hot water runs out..”
She turns, seeing your freshly showered figure. For a moment, Jenna finds herself stuck. You’re rubbing a towel on your wet hair as grey sweats hung lowly on your hips and she was desperately trying to avert her eyes from the small patch of you skin exposed.
“I already showered.”
“Oh okay.” You shrugged walking over to grab your phone. 
“Which side do you prefer?” You asked absentmindedly,
“What?” Jenna blinks away.
“Of the bed. Which side do you prefer?” 
“Oh. The left.”
“Thank god. Every bed I’ve had to share I’ve had to fight for the right side. You’re perfect.” 
Jenna watched as you jump into your preferred side, getting comfortable under her covers.
She doesn’t know why she feels a mismatched thump fall out of rhythm with her heartbeat at seeing you in her bed. 
“Alright, are you gonna be weird about sharing a bed? ‘Cause I can just take the couch or call my driver to pick me up. I can get a hotel room or something.” You sighed sitting up. 
Jenna furrowed her brows, “What no. Can you please stop jumping to conclusions?”
“I’m not.” You mumbled but don’t argue further. Jenna gets in beside you. 
“You satisfied now?” She throws out but it sounds just shy of playful and maybe even flirtatious – definitely not how she meant for it to sound.
“Uh– sure.” You replied sliding the blanket up to your chin as you tried to get comfortable again.
There’s that weird tension again, Jenna thinks and she thinks it’s starting to annoy her.
“Okay, what’s your deal?” Jenna crossed her arms, turning to you.
You blinked, confused. “What?”
“Why are you being so weird?”
“I’m not.” You sat up to face the other actress.
Jenna frowned, “Yes you are. You have been since New York. Did I do something? Because you still haven’t told me why you just left town like that.”
“I told you. Jake wanted me back for Coachella. Why else would I have just left all of a sudden?” You explained.
“I just– I just feel like you’re not telling me something.” She admits, a bit insecure. “I, at least, thought we’re friends now and when I didn’t see you in the crowd or the dressing room after SNL I was a bit… disappointed? I don't know if it’s dumb but you really did calm me down before my monologue and I wanted to thank you over dinner. But, yeah–” 
Jenna looks away, missing your guilty frown. “Jenna… it’s not dumb. God, I feel like an asshole.”
“Well, sometimes you can be.”
You laugh but it’s dry. “I’m so sorry. I–I should have been there.”
You grab her hands. “Look at me, please.” It gets her to look up, the light from the lamp is bouncing off your eyes making them look softer in the dim light. “I promise, I’ll always be there for the important moments from now on. Before, during and after – we are stuck together until the foreseeable future, so.”
Jenna snorts, looking down at your hands. You begin to rub lines with your fingers on her open palm making her shiver. “Yeah, I guess we are.” She whispers.
She doesn’t know when she makes the bold move to intertwine your fingers. But for the first time since SNL, you two hold hands and this time you don’t pull away. But she doesn’t miss the questioning glint in your eyes as you look down. Jenna ignores the attention and squeezes your hand to make you look at her again.
“You mean it though?”
Your eyes soften. “I mean it.”
“Where’s Y/N?” Mia asked over the breakfast table.
“Rehearsals,” Jenna mumbled sleepily shoving spoonfuls of food in her dry mouth – still trying to wake up.
When the actress had awakened, the sun was high above the horizon and the desert heat was already inching inside her cracked window. But she woke up, alone.
Differing from how she went to sleep the previous night with you barely pressed up beside her as you laid with your backs to each other. Jenna only found herself un-tensing after hearing your breathing fall into short even exhales.
When she turned over to grab her phone this morning, you had sent a text:
Sorry for not waking you up. You sleep like a rock but I had to go to rehearsals. I’ll be back by 3 :)
She couldn’t be too annoyed at the smiley face you leave with your occasional messages.
“She’s performing?” Mia asks shocked.
Jenna nods, too tired for words.
“The crowd is gonna lose their minds.” Aliyah laughs. “With who?”
“Won’t say.” Jenna muttered bitterly, thinking back to her incessant begging; you never caved.
“Okay… can we talk about it, now then?”
“Talk about what Mia,” Jenna sighs dropping her fork on her plate.
“You and Y/N.” She says like it’s obvious.
“There is no me and Y/N, it’s all for the cameras. Remember the NDA I had to beg you guys to sign?” The actress rolls her eyes. 
“Then why were you so upset after New York?” She challenges; tired of her sister’s silence over this whole situation. There’s no way she’s just unaffected by this.
“Mia drop it.” Her mom says.
“No. I’m serious, she’s literally staying under our roof, sharing a room with Jenna. And no one is still saying anything? Am I the only one who thinks there’s something going on?”
“Yes.” Jenna says quickly.
Mia rolls her eyes, “You still haven’t answered my question, Jen.”
Jenna crosses her arms, sitting up. “Of course I was upset. She just left town without a warning, if we didn’t catch her in the lobby she was just gonna a send a text. A text! Anyone would be upset at that — but it doesn’t mean what you think it means.”
But her sister doesn’t buy it. She opens her mouth to refute but their Dad swoops in saving the day. “Leave your sister alone, Mia. I’m sure whatever is going on with Y/N and Jenna – they can figure it out themselves.”
Jenna groans, “Dad, not helping.”
He shrugs, sitting at the head of the table with his own plate of breakfast.
Eventually, her family scatters to their own corners of the house to get ready for the day. Her other family members would be arriving soon and the actress had to start getting ready. Crap, she forgot to warn you about game night because you left so early. Jenna decides she’ll send you a text after she gets out of the shower.
With the raucous of the day, Jenna forgets to send the text. Her cousins arrived much earlier than anticipated and she was already getting pulled out to living room to talk about her upcoming projects. She gets so lost catching up with her cousins that she doesn’t realize when you arrive.
"Jenna, your novia is here." One of her aunts shouts making her head snap up to you as the front door opens. "Oh wow, and she's brought the whole store!"
Jenna's jaw drops as you walk in, holding multiple large bouquets of different arrangements of flowers. "Y/N?"
"Hey!" You peek your head out from the large flowers. "These are for your family... but I may have overestimated how big these were and Link refused to help me."
"Oh god, these are beautiful Y/N." Jenna's mom gets up from her seat, grabbing as many flowers as she can. "You didn't have to..."
"Oh, it's nothing, really. You guys are letting me stay here, I just wanted to express a little gratitude." You duck your head, all timid now.
Jenna knows it's not nothing. Those flowers cost a fuck ton, she would know she gets gifted those whenever she has an event.
"Well, gratitude expressed. I don't even know where to put these. Mia, Aliyah help the girl, please!"
The two sisters grab all but one smaller bouquet from your hands, walking away with smug smiles.
"Jen, get up," Aliyah whispers in passing as all the women and Jenna's dad filter over to the kitchen to view the gorgeous flowers.
She still hasn't moved from the couch and briefly, she thinks she can feel her cousin's smirking at her reaction.
"You got my family flowers?" Jenna asks dumbly, walking over slowly; ignoring everyone's eyes on them.
"Uh—yeah. Sorry if it's a bit much. I wasn't sure what everyone liked so... I got them all." You scratch your head with a bouquet in hand, catching Jenna's eye.
"These are for you..." You smile, holding out a smaller albeit more personal? flower arrangement. It felt like Jenna, somehow.
“I picked it out myself.” Your smile turns shy.
Like, if she were to walk into a flower shop and see this bouquet, she would instantly grasp it and never let go.
We still talking flowers?
"Thanks..." Jenna mumbles, grabbing the flowers; your fingertips touching sends sparks down her arm.
"Um—you're back early..." Is all she manages to say.
“Yeah… they didn’t need me for a long time so I decided to come back.” You explained, glancing at the new faces in the room. “Uh– what’s all this?”
The actress sends you a sheepish smile, “Family game night, we watch the game every Friday and cook some barbeque, it’s a whole thing. I forgot to text you, I’m sorry. You can call your driver back if this is too much.”
You laugh, squeezing her shoulder. “And miss out on great food? No, thank you.”
Jenna scans your eyes for the truth, “Are you sure? I know this isn’t exactly your scene so I understand.”
“Jen.” Your hand slides down, softly grabbing her hand. “I can’t even remember how long it’s been since the last time I had a home-cooked meal. I’m so in.”
You squeeze her hand for good measure. “Guys close the door.” Someone shouts.
Jenna doesn’t let you drop your hands this time because she’s already gripping them, pulling you to sit with her cousins – introducing you.
She ignores the giddy feeling in her chest that you want to stay.
You don’t say anything even when you’re both sitting and she’s still holding your hand.
“Who are you performing with?” Jenna tugs on your arm.
You squint to see her through your sunglasses. The Californian sun was making its presence known today and there are crowds of people everywhere as you tried to find some shade. It’s just past 6 PM and people are already starting to get rowdy – before all the good sets are even on. 
Fish nets, sparkles and bedazzles are all you see in the sea of people and you just know you’re at Coachella.
“I can’t say…” You fight the smile on your face, finding her begging adorable. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.”
“But Aliyah knows! I heard you whisper it to her.” She glares back at her sister standing a fair distance away from you two – who was talking to Mia and her boyfriend.
“I didn’t tell her anything, Jen. We were just fucking with you.” You laugh, sliding your hand in hers. 
An unspoken comfortableness has formed between you two. Light touches are a new development in this… situation Jenna had with you.
Whether it was knees touching under the dinner table, walking shoulder to shoulder on your daily walks around the neighbourhood (there wasn’t much to do as Coachella weekend approached) or leaning her head on your shoulder as she slept when you two watched TV before bed.
And now, it seems like things have escalated to a new level of comfort where you two willingly linked fingers whenever you walked anywhere. Neither of you make a peep when someone eventually reaches for the other’s hand. 
“Rude…” She pinches your side making you flinch away from her.
Jenna’s immediately tugging you back closer.
“Hey… I can’t get an injury before my performance. I’m legally binded to a contract.” You state.
Jenna snorts, “I thought you were friends with the performer? Are you really not gonna tell me who it is?”
“Nope and sure we’re friends but, I’m still contractually obligated to the festival and all that.”
“Come on Y/N!” She groaned unconsciously stepping closer to you. “I’ve been so nice to you, I haven’t called you an idiot all day!”
You laugh, “Is that supposed to win me over?”
“You tell me? Is it working?” The laugh dies in your lips when she tits her head in question.
Jenna misses the gulp you take because she was leaning closer, trying to find your eyes behind the dark-tinted glasses you had on. 
“No…” You replied with a vacant tone.
Jenna steps back when the sun blinds her eye. “You’re no fun.”
“I don’t know what to tell you… you’re gonna have to wait like everyone else.”
“Speaking of everyone else, I’m surprised we’re not surrounded by your groupies.” Jenna eyes the group of people hovering not too far away. 
You snicker, “They are not my groupies. I barely know those people but it happens at every music event. They flock over like geese. I let Link handle them.”
Jenna frowns, “Doesn’t it bother you?”
“What?” You look down.
“That you can’t even enjoy yourself at a festival without someone hovering over your shoulder.”
Since Jenna’s started this PR relationship with you her fame’s only increased overnight. She hates to say it but Sarah was right, being associated with you has only made her more famous and well-known. She felt like a Kardashian or Tom Holland who couldn’t even step out of their own homes without a camera being shoved in their faces. 
It’s getting so bad that Jenna has security with her everywhere she goes. She stopped driving herself to places. A headline even dropped that you two are official and serious now and that you have met her family; paparazzi tried to camp at her parent’s house until they called the police.
“Sometimes.” You answer honestly, shrugging. “But it’s part of the job.”
Jenna’s frown deepens, looking around. “This is not part of the job. At least not what I’ve seen.”
“Yeah, but we learn to deal with it, right?” You nudge her shoulder. Seemingly unbothered that made Jenna bothered for you.
“How?” Jenna couldn’t help her curiosity.
“Surround yourself with people that genuinely care about you. That still picks you even after all your fuck ups. Only got me about three of those, so I try to keep them close.” Then you let out a sad laugh, “I make it very hard for them sometimes, though.”
Jenna looks at Link as he holds a bored hand up when a girl tries to walk up to you. Then he’s shooing her away and whispering to both of your security guards.
She wants to fight the urge to say that you have a fourth person in your corner with her.
Instead, she says:
“I think you got a good one with him.” She nods to Link.
You follow her sight, “Yeah, I do... He’s usually right about most things too.”
“What do you mean?” She looks up in questioning.
Maybe Jenna’s not so bad? Flashes in your memory but you don’t tell Jenna. “Nothing.”
Jenna squints her eyes. “Fine… keep your secrets.” Tone a playfully bitter.
Eventually, you, Jenna and her sisters walk around aimlessly from set to set, taking pictures and enjoying the atmosphere. Jenna would be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying herself right now. Somehow you all managed to find an empty corner by the Artist section of the performances which meant you had loosened up a bit. 
Jenna decided she liked it when you’re smiling, carefree and happy.
It suits you better than your permanent scowl. 
You’ve been so stressed this last week, taking phone calls and Zoom meetings. She tried not to express her concern at seeing how you obsessively fretted over some project, consuming you some nights. 
Jenna knows obsessive. She knows anxiety. This was different.
She finds herself with more questions than answers when it comes to you.
Why are you so closed off all the time? Is this how you work all the time? Where did this recent streak of bad behaviour start? Is there more to it than what you’re saying?
Are you okay?
But Jenna can’t find the right words to ask, so she doesn’t.
Only offering her warm pressure on top of you to hopefully lull you to sleep when you both drift off in her childhood bed.
Somewhere along the evening, she finds herself close to you.
You've loosened up as the days progressed and somehow, you and Jenna have found yourselves wrapped up in each other's arms as you danced.
Jenna had her back pressed firmly against your chest; her head tucked under your chin as your arms wrap around her waist from behind; hands linked as you jammed along to the music.
“The Met Gala’s coming up.” Jenna speaks up after a few moments of silence. “I’m invited.”
“Me too.” You reveal. She perks up, looking back at you.
“Yeah?” She smiles, pleased with your answer.
“Mhmm. I’m actually a co-chair this year.” You send an embarrassed smile.
She turns in your hold, jaw-dropping. “You are?”
“Yeah… why do you think I’ve been taking those calls all week? I was getting ready for the Met.”
“I thought that was for Coachella?” She snorts but can't help but ask, "Do you ever stop working?"
“Says you. Miss Scream Queen.” You tease making her roll her eyes.
“Be my date.” She says all of a sudden. “and walk the carpet with me this time.”
You raise your brows at her bluntness. This time?
You remember the last time she said those words and a tiny part of you prayed she meant it differently this time. But you can't fight your smile because you couldn't even say no if you wanted to — overwhelmed with the sudden want, to show off the girl in your arms. “I would love to be your date.”
Jenna's eyes sparkled with delight, beaming at you widely.
"Great! I'll talk to Enrique and Thom Browne about it."
"But I'm a Prada Ambassador?"
"I'll handle it." She nods with finality.
But before you can say anything, Link slides in with a whisper in your ear and a knowing smirk in Jenna’s direction.
“Hey, I have to go.” You whisper into her ear, pulling away but Jenna tightens her grip.
“Wait.” She steps forward – much closer than she means to.
“Yeah?” You asked softly and suddenly Jenna can’t hear the loud thumping of the bass anymore.
“Good luck and break a leg.” She says in a whisper.
Her hand reaches up to brush your neck still looking into your eyes. Jenna feels the same overwhelming pressure in her chest that she’s recently felt around you and gives into her sudden impulse; leaning in, parting her lips; meaning for them to connect to your cheek but instead swerve and slot in between your lips instead, in a moment’s haste.
She feels you tense for a moment before giving in, cupping her cheeks too. Kissing her back. Jenna loses it a bit, not expecting your lips to feel so soft and smooth and perfect against hers. Jenna can't help but tilt her head to the side, allowing your lips to press harder.
She feels the same electricity from your first meeting – when you shook her hand. The same electricity she tries to fight off every time she's near you. Except this time, it's by tenfold.
Jenna is so lost in you that she can’t even hear her heart beating loudly in her ears anymore — only feeling your thumb softly stroking her jaw.
The sound of coughing breaks you two apart.
“Sorry but Y/N we need to go.” Link sends a sheepish smile but he's trying to fight his grin at having a front-row seat to the show.
When Jenna pulls away she looks deeply into your eyes searching for some kind of indication of your feelings.
You smile shyly, squeezing her waist and rubbing her back. “I’ll find you after the show?”  
“Yeah…” Jenna whispers, still staring into your eyes.
“I’ll find you!” You yell over her shoulder as Link drags you away.
“Holy shit, finally!” Mia slides in beside her. 
Jenna doesn’t have the energy to shrug off the arm Aliyah throws over her shoulder as she brings her fingers up to her burning lips. “I don't know why I did that...”
“Oh my god, you’re an idiot. The both of you.” Mia rolls her eyes walking back to her boyfriend.
Jenna looks around, blinking, immediately catching the phones held in the air capturing her moment with you.
She walks off, following her sisters.
Unbeknownst to you and Jenna, a headline is about to drop:
New developments in Y/N L/N's Vegas case. Caught with cocaine! Las Vegas PD makes no official comments on possible charges or arrests. But is this the end for the bright star?
-
:)
The strip club and vaccine bit with Colin and Che is from a real line in one of their segments LOL.
Tumblr media
yall happy now?
-
@alexkolax @ladey @jjsmaybank20 @werewoofrobinbuckley @chealsib @fanboy7794 @la-douleur-ne-finit-jamais @zelload @natashadeservedmoree @orang3-ish @friedryes @canyonyodeler @nahnahnahwhatt @be-missed @jjuncidio @fearstreetsoloyouandurmom @oksana-moods @theirishmanronan @r-ude @wokethefuxkup @bandaidss @skate-to-breathee @user173781 @frasersgf @natblidaclexa @justafoolinlove @bring-mecoffee @slu7her @haughtsauce21 @wheesunsangel @cyberexpertalienspy-blog @jennaortegasfootrest @zaza11sblog @omega-horus @heroofdeath11 @selluequestrian @justalittledissociation @imaloserbby @catswag22 @sorexhera @smjmgko @acutenobody @raven-ss @canceldevvi @sweetaimu @rockwyn @rwndsana @cheesybacon1 @cvluswnt @secretbackrooms @vixen1006 @zhasmindoesntknow @namesduntmatter @ulicebld @rozmrazaradelfinow @icarly23 @cartierdreamx @thenextdawn @annalestern
1K notes · View notes
mmurderhousewrites · 3 months
Text
Rich baby daddy pt. 2 (Sukuna x Reader)
i know i said this was gonna be 2 parts but i'm gonna make it 3, hopefully tmr ill be able to post the final part.
Summary: Things go downhill at the party, revealing secrets you would have never imagined
Warnings: unedited, slight reader x getou in the beginning
Tumblr media
Getou had arrived in an all black limousine with tinted windows. It wasn't much of a shock to you considering Getou always went all out for his best friend. He stood outside of the limo, leaning against it and smirking when he saw your outfit. He was dressed in an all black tux, not buttoned up all the way which revealed a white button up shirt underneath, and black dress shoes to go with it.
Sure getou didn't see you as anything more then a friend, however he was still a man at the end of the day and couldn't block out those dirty thoughts he had of you.
The two of you had talked most of the way there and of course you and your best friend were already a little tipsy by the time the two of you arrived. After all there was a nice selection of alcohol in the limo.
You paid attention to the surroundings changing outside, you started in the city then slowly made your way to the suburbs. The houses looked beautiful, from two to the stories, and the giant yards, you could tell the neighborhood you were in was only meant for the successful people. It started to make you feel some type of way, and the liquor in your system wasn't helping at all.
"You really look amazing tonight, y/n" Getou says, giving you a lighthearted smile.
You smirk and raise an eyebrow at him, "Don't tell me youre catching feelings getou" you say jokingly, rolling your eyes.
Getou looks at you for a minute before chuckling, "of course not, after all youre Sukuna's girl and i'm not really in the mood to risk my life just for some pussy"
You roll your eyes again and cross your arms, "oh please just because i had his child doesn't make me his. I'm sure he's been sleeping with other women anyways, not that I care. And on top of that he was too busy to spend time with his family that's the reason why i left him."
"yeah i'm more then aware, you've told me story about 4 times now" Getou says, sipping his drink.
You huff and turn to look out the window. You notice how the houses are slowly fading away and now its mainly mountains. The driver turns down a narrow dirt road, following it up for about 2 minutes before the mansion comes in view.
It was huge and the exterior looked to bricks, all different shades of grey. The curtains inside the house were all pushed to the side, making it so everyone could see what was going on inside. This was the Richardson's manor.
After getting passed the gate, the driver pulls up to the front of the house where a few other cars and limos were parked. The driver parks the car and they get out, talking to one of the staff members.
Getou taps you, making you look over at him with a confused face. He smiles, pouring another shot of tequila for both you and him. Handing it to you he says, "for the road ahead"
This makes you smile. The two of you raise your glasses and clink them together before downing the shot. You shake your head in disgust as the liquor burns your throat. Your best friend on the other hand took his shot smoothly as per usual, making him laugh at you.
The driver comes around, opening the door for you and getou. Getou steps out first then offered you his hand. You take his hand and follow suit, looking up at the beautiful manor in front of you you cant help but stare in awe.
You kept your right arm linked with getou as you were greeted by the head butler, a tall man dressed in a black tailcoat with a white undershirt. He held a napkin around his arm and bowed to the two of you.
"You must be Suguru Getou, and this is..?" The butler questions, raising an eyebrow at you.
"I'm Y/n L/n. Head journalist for Gojo inc." You smile, extending your free hand to the butler. He looks shocked, almost immediately shaking your hand.
"Ah yes, Y/n! You've written the stories about the take down of Toji Fushiguro right?" He asks, actually seeming interesting.
You pull your hand away, "yup that's me!" you reply. Getou is standing there awkwardly before clearing his throat.
"it was nice meeting you ms. L/n. Please enjoy your night." The butler bows his head. Getou leads you through the large open doors, revealing the party inside There were many people from different companies and backgrounds as you expected.
Unnoticed to you, Sukuna was talking to a few business partners in the back near the bar when he seen you walk in. At first he was seriously irritated considering he had definetly told you Not to come. Sukuna had his own business to take care of tonight and he was certain he wouldn't be able to get it done with you here.
You had stuck to getou's arm almost the whole night and it was starting to come to an end. There wasn't much dirt you uncovered on anybody considering you were already tipsy when you got here and you were getting rounds of shots for you and your friend every 30 minutes it seemed.
It also seemed you were too drunk to notice your baby dad angrily sulking on a bar stool, holding his glass of vodka. Sukuna had managed to make some new business partners and also managed to get many looks from potential partner's wives making them iffy on working with him.
You had excused yourself from getou to go get a drink of water, while you were in the process of ordering your drink, suddenly there was shouting. You turn around to see a group of people with masks on entering the premises.
Your eyes widen as you notice the large guns in their hands. Shots are fired and before you can process anything you are tackled over and behind the bar.
You look up seeing your baby dad, his hand was on your shoulder as he pulled out a pistol. You were shocked to say the least. When you two were together you never would have imagined sukuna would wield a weapon. He's a business man not a mafia man, right?
Sukuna never talked to you about things like this but then again when you were together he wouldn't really mention work at all unless you pressed him about it. It's possible Sukuna wasn't the man he claimed to be.
You were extremely frightened, Sukuna seems to notice this looking down at you and smiling softly. "I told you not to come for a reason" He says quietly.
There was a lot of gunfire and shouting in the background, you were sure your eyes were about to pop out of your head. Grabbing onto Sukuna you start to let out a few tears.
"You were so vague about it how was i supposed to know people would be dying?!" you exclaim angrily.
Sukuna rubs your arm before pulling out his phone and quickly typing something. "were gonna be okay. I just need you to follow my lead." He says and you nod your head quickly.
Sukuna peaks around the bar to see what's going on, shooting his own gun a few times. You hear a few grunts and sukuna turns back to you. He quickly throws you over his shoulder before making a run for the back of the house.
The two of you are met by a black Cadillac and sukuna opens the back door before sliding the both of you in. Immediately the SUV pulls off.
You sit there in shock, even surprised to see Getou as the driver, "What the hell is going on?!" You finally exclaim, looking at Ryomen angrily.
Sukuna looks over at you and sighs, "I've been trying to keep you away from this, princess but obviously I can't anymore. You should get Yuji from your parents tomorrow and come stay with me for now."
He takes your hand in his, "There's a lot of explaining to do. I'm gonna take you back to my house for the night."
You not your head in agreement. That would be for the best and after the night you've had you definitely wanted some company.
tag list; @cassouandco @mrs--imperfect @maskedpacific @domainofmarie @thejujvtsupost @valleydoli
236 notes · View notes
hockybish · 28 days
Text
I Didn't Want This Either
l Luke Hughes l masterlist l part 1 l * warning: death *
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"Can we talk?" Jack knocked on the window of Luke's car. He didn't like what he was going to ask Luke, but he needed to get the conversation over with.
"What's up?" Luke watched as Jack fiddled with the sleeve of his jacket.
Jack took a deep breath in, counted to five, before let out the inhaled air.
"I know this is never probably going to happen, but I just want to be prepared just in case. because you never know what could happen. and Addie agrees with me, for once, I know it's crazy.
"Jack spit it out."
"Now that I have two kids. I've been thinking more about what happens to them if something happens to us. And I think I want you to raise them if we can't." The older brother asked of the younger one.
"Jack, I don't know." Luke contemplated what he was being asked, which was really nothing, but he knew. "Isn't there anyone better for the job? Mom? Quinn?"
"No, Luke. Quinn and Liv have enough going on and Mom and Dad don't need to raising two little kids after the raised us." Jack explained. "Plus you're great with them and they love you so much. Please Lukey."
"Fine"
"Great! I'll add you to daycare pick up." Jack reached over to give his brother an awkward hug before they went on with their separate ways.
--
"You're pretty." Jack chanced a glanced over at his beautiful wife. They had just dropped the kids off at daycare and were on their way to the rock.
"You're not too bad yourself Mr. Hughes" Addie said scrunching her nose at the man next to her.
"I'll talk to Luke or Nico today, maybe one of them can take the kids and we can have tonight." He kept looking back and forth from the road to his wife.
"Jack watch the road please." She clenched her jaw. There was traffic all around them, making her feel a bit nervous.
"What Ads? It's fine." Jack's eyes left the road again to look at his wife.
"Jack!"
Jack never saw the car until it was too late.
--
"Shit. Shit. Shit." Luke jumped out of bed. He scrambled to get ready for practice when the brain fog cleared and he saw it was after 10 am already.
He was so late. His alarms must not have gone off or something, because he was never late for practice. And here he was going to be late for the first time in forever.
Luke chose to forgo his usual morning routine and caffeinated beverage, thinking it might give a chance to get to the practice facility faster.
He was almost there when the traffic started to picked up. There must have been an accident. All sorts of emergency vehicles were surrounding the area.
As Luke got closer to the heart of the situation he noticed a two crumpled up cars. A silver one and a very familiar looking green one.
Luke got a good long look at the wreck as he passed it. Two white sheets littered the ground, the car accident must have been that bad that people died.
That's why there was so much commotion.
He felt bad for the family that was going learn the news that they lost people they loved. Little did he know his phone was blowing up at the moment, messages and phone calls from his parents and brother, family members, teammates, and close friends with that specific news.
The now super late hockey player got to his destination only an hour later than he was supposed to be there. He thought it was a bit odd how the normally packed parking garage was near empty. Where was everyone?
"Luke what are you doing here?" Nico frowned at the defensemen who was trying to get ice ready as fast as he could.
"I know I'm late. I didn't set my alarm and then there was some big accident. I'll do extra of whatever you want. I'm sorry." Luke finishing up lacing his skates up. If he had been looking at Nico eye's went wide at the mention of the accident.
"Practice was cancelled a couple of hours ago."
"Why would they do that we have a game tomorrow?"
"The league is thinking of postponing it"
"Why?" he stopped what he was doing to look up at his captain. There was a feeling in the room, there was something seriously wrong.
Luke finally glanced around the empty locker room, it held the same odd feeling that the lot had.
"Um. Have you looked at your phone lately?" The older man scratched the back of his head nervously.
Luke furrowed his brows at the question. No, he hadn't looked at his phone, he had been a little busy trying to get there as quickly as he could, the action didn't feel necessary at the time.
But now a bad sinking feeling was telling him that maybe he should.
He had a total of 19 missed calls from him Mom, Dad, and Quinn alone. Not to mention the other various voicemails that completely filled the digital voicemail box was completely filled. On top of that there were over a hundred txt messages from a variety of people.
There was even a message from Jack, a simple heart emoji followed by an 'i luv ya bro,' that was timestamped hours before everything else.
"Nico, what's going on?" His voice hitched after he read a txt from Trevor that read 'i just heard about j. i'm so sorry.' When Luke looked up from the device he took note that Nico was now accompanied by their new coach and a few devils' personal.
"Luke you should call your parents back" The captain picked at the skin around his fingers.
"No just tell me. What's going on?" He thumbed through his device trying to decipher the
"Let's take this somewhere a little more private. Yeah?" The group of higher ups attempted to usher then to a different room a little more quiet and appropriate to have this conversation. Luke shook them off, wanting them to just spit it out.
"Say it Nico" Luke shook them off. He wanted Nico to just spit it out. He was tired of this go around and the hesitation
Nico sighed heavily. He didn't want to be the one to tell his friend the news, it would be better if it were coming from a family member, but they were all on there way to New Jersey at moment. So he had to do his best.
"There was an accident" Nico began to say. Luke felt his heart beat faster, and a pit forming in his stomach as he realized what Nico was telling him. Maybe this would have been better coming from his mom or dad, hell even Quinn.
"Jack and Addie were in the car-" Nico continued. That green car that look familiar. Jack had a green car.
"No no no no no no no." He covered his ears in an attempted to block out what Nico was telling him. This wasn't happening.
"they didn't make it." Nico finished. He put his hand on Luke's shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. The kind gesture didn't help anyeay as Luke grabbed the nearest garbage pail and emptied the contents of his stomach in it.
It was true. It couldn't be true. Jack wasn't dead. This was all just some sort of prank, a sick joke. Jack was going to walk around the corner and say sike.
He need to get out of there. Anywhere but there. He had this pain in chest, and it was hard to breath anytime he thought of his brother.
He got in his car and drove without a destination in mind. He drove and drove until he found himself in a deserted mall parking lot, not another car or person in sight.
Luke sat in his perfectly fine car and screamed. There wasn't anyone around, so no one would be able to judge him. Not that he cared. He needed to get his emotions out.
Why Jack? Why couldn't have been him? If only he had been on time today, maybe it would have been him in that accident and Jack would still be alive.
He had been receiving texts all day. Luke ignored all of them. A few people called, he ignored those too. Ellen had been calling him at least once every hour, but he still refused to talk to her.
There was one number that had been persistently calling him, even more than his mother had. Maybe she had gotten a hold of a phone and was calling from that. He didn't know, but he finally decided to answer the call.
"Hello, this is Kiya over at Happy Times nursery, am I speaking to Luke?" The very peppy and friendly lady ask.
"Yeah, I've been a little busy, what is this pertaining too?" He mumbled his reply confirming it was him.
"Good, good. We've been trying to reach Jack or Addie for a couple of hours now seein that it is well past pick up time for Lucy and Felix. We were just wondering if someone was on their way to retrieve them. They are our last kids for the night and we would like to go home."
Shit
Let me know what you guys think!
177 notes · View notes
glorysbox · 9 months
Note
I would love to see a continuation of those bihan fics you have but after he's gotten his son. Like how would he act afterwards?
(pregnancy talk, bihan lowkey/highkey has mommy and daddy issues)
bihan loves you, in his own way.
i can see him having a "marriage" (for lack of a better term), essentially letting everyone know publicly and officially who you belong to. if you bother him enough, he'd probably give you a wedding—though small, most likely only having the people he trusted (like cyrax and sektor) and maybe some of the people you'd request like family or close close friends. you'd really have to convince him, though…
he'd definitely start kissing you more. he loves the feeling of your lips on his; finds himself seeking the warmth of your lips and body on his more than he'd like to admit. bihan would definitely be opening up to you (physically), allowing you to cling to him in private or acquiescing to your pleads to be in the room with him while he's doing paperwork or foreseeing future battles with his second in commands.
bi-han would be wanting to see you often, going as far as making you sleep in his quarters instead of your own. you're barely halfway through your pregnancy by the time he's ordered you to stay with him in bed. at first, i don't think he'd been to receptive to any cuddling. but if you complain enough, he'll give in.
he's protective; the grandmaster of the lin kuei does have many enemies after all. (really, they'd never be able to breach the temple of the lin kuei. he uses it as an excuse to be with you constantly and oversee you during pregnancy. he doesn't want to lose you like he'd lost his mother or his brother.)
when it comes to the labor + aftermath… he doesn't really leave your side, ever. he's there when you give birth. he insists on being the one to cut the umbilical cord (with a blade made of ice). in the meantime, all of his responsibilities are passed down to sektor and cyrax, leaving him with more than enough time to nag you about the way you handle his son. he's often telling you how to do what since he "cared for kuai liang while he was a child", which means he knows more than you. (he doesn't)
surprisingly enough… he's "sweet" with his son, especially as he gets older. i think bihan's father wasn't the best to him (which i believe is why he let him die and acted the way he did in mk1). knowing how it feels to be treated less than favorably by his father, he would never repeat the cycle onto his own child. this doesn't mean he'll allow his son to be soft, though. expect your son to go through a LOT of training in the future to be a formidable grandmaster himself.
your relationship with him definitely undergoes many changes, too. you used to consider him much higher than you, but as the years go on, you start to see him as more of an equal. he does the same, considering you his equal way earlier than you him. you're not allowed to call him grandmaster anymore, only "husband" or "bihan" (he will still pull the obey your grandmaster card on you to get what he wants, though)
and yes, bihan wants another son too. he wants his first son to have a brother as soon as possible (which strangely parallels his own life… he'd never admit it to anyone but you, but he finds himself missing his little brother at times.)
you're expected to be a good mother as well. he expects you to be like his mother—who he thinks did a great job at raising him. you'll have to be tough and no nonsense, and willing to discipline your children to teach them lessons at a young age. he'll definitely get on your ass if he finds you coddling his son far too much and making him "weak". if you have a daughter though… imagine his protectiveness times one trillion. seriously. she'll probably be just as spoiled as you are. and yes, you are spoiled. the members of the lin kuei basically treat you as an extension of bihan. and he always makes sure you get what you want.
he was comfortable having just you to defend and protect, knowing that his sons also could protect you… but with a daughter thrown in the mix, expect the both of you to never be let out of his sight. he would be soooo annoying about it!! god forbid he has to go somewhere without you—you're stuck listening to sektor ramble on and on about whatever silly scientific experiments while he babysits you and her.
you'd probably catch him more than a few times being uncharacteristically sweet to your daughter—especially if she resembles you or resembles his mother. he'd definitely soften up with her (not in front of anyone but your family, however.)
still, bihan is a cold man. literally and figuratively. don't expect him to talk much about his family life or his feelings. he does demand to know everything about yours, though...
460 notes · View notes
1-800-hwahui · 2 years
Text
romance at mistletoe inn
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
member  |  seungcheol x reader genre  |  smut, some fluff word count  |  ~4,600 warnings  |  reader has a vagina and breasts, unprotected sex, very very soft dom!cheol, sub!reader, wap reader, monster cock cheol, like seriously his dick is BIG, size kink (it comes with the territory wbk), strength kink (?), oral (m receiving), oral (reader receiving), grinding, deepthroating, motorboating, praise, slight manhandling, creampie (they don't talk about reader taking birth control so PLEASE do not be like them irl), cursing, cheol is Whipped, they hold hands :(, teeny bit of aftercare oops sorry, reader's mom accidentally cockblocks, please ignore that the plot actually makes Zero sense this is just pure sex atp notes  |  this is a nsfw sequel to a sfw fic on my main writing blog @junkissed called mistletoe inn! however, this can be read as a stand alone, you don't have to have read the other part to know what's going on here. for the heathen @onlymingyus. i hope you enjoy. p.s. thanks to @duhnova @heartkyeom for making me insane while i wrote this. i know i say this every time but this time i mean it when i say this is definitely the filthiest thing i have ever written - 💒 june
a knock on cheol’s door brings him out of the book he’s reading. it’s late in the evening and it hasn’t stopped snowing all day, leaving everyone at the inn snowed in. at least for the next day or so until the city snow plow comes around. he slides a bookmark into the pages and sets it on his nightstand, grinning as he walks towards the door.
as it usually is every winter, the inn is practically empty, except for one guest. it’s a small town, and people don’t come to stay unless they’re visiting friends or family.
cheol’s really enjoyed talking with you the last few days. he’s learned that you came to surprise your parents, but they’d actually left town without telling you to spend their christmas in hawaii, leaving you alone in a city where you don’t know anyone. 
he doesn’t mind being your friend for the week you’re here– in fact, he loves it. you’re great company, and after a little not-so-subtle prying he’s also learned you’re single. with your work less than an hour away by plane, the distance isn’t bad, and if he’s been reading the situation right, he’s hoping you might feel the same. it’s been too long since he’s taken a break, since he’s traveled out of the little town he’s lived in all his life. maybe it’s time to pass the inn along to someone else in his family. but for now, one step at a time.
of course, it’s you standing on the other side of the door. he can’t help the way his face lights up when he sees you. “hey, what’s up?”
you smile back shyly. “just bored. are… are you busy?”
he grins. “not anymore.”
“do you maybe, wanna, come to my room?” you ask. “i made cocoa.”
“of course i would,” he says, shutting his door with a quiet squeak.
fifteen minutes later the cocoa is long forgotten as you desperately press your lips against seungcheol’s, hands roaming everywhere across each others’ bodies.
you’re suddenly very grateful that you packed your nice pair of panties for a trip that was supposed to be for visiting your parents. and you’re also very grateful that you wore them tonight, just in case.
the muscles in his shoulders flex as he yanks his shirt up and off with one swift movement. you watch, until his hands are back on you, whining as he pulls on the hem of your sweater. you giggle and lift your arms so he can help you tug it over your head.
“can i?” he breathes, reaching for your bra, his gaze fixated on your chest.
you nod, and strong arms wrap around you, carefully unhooking your bra behind your back. you hold the fabric in place with your hands as his fingers tenderly slip the straps down your shoulders. 
when you finally let go, allowing the material to fall to the floor, seungcheol inhales sharply. “god, you’re so beautiful,” he rasps.
he looks up at you for permission, and you smile. hands still clasped behind your back, he pulls you over to the chair by the couch, sitting down so his face is level with your chest. 
his hands glide over your skin, pushing your breasts together and shoving his face in between them with a groan that reverberates in your ribcage. you moan and he lets go, hands skating down your sides to rest at your hips as he leaves wet kisses along the curve of your boobs.
your fingers find his head, weaving up through his hair. he shakes his head back and forth and his hands grab at your ass, roughly kneading the skin. his mouth moves to one of your nipples, lips wrapping around it and sucking lightly.
his lips leave your breast with a pop, half-lidded eyes looking almost drunk with pleasure. you shimmy out of your pants, throwing them out of the way but keeping your panties on. 
cheol’s eyes widen and his hands fumble to remove his own jeans, shaking as he slides them down his muscular legs. 
you sink down onto your knees, settling between his legs. he groans when you look up at him with wide eyes, tentative hands resting on his thighs. god, his thighs… just one is probably bigger than your entire head. 
your fingers dance at the band of his underwear, nervously toying with the elastic but not going any further yet. he’s only half-hard beneath the fabric, but you can already tell he’s big, way bigger than you’re used to.
you must’ve paused for too long, because he reaches down to cup your cheek, bringing your gaze back up to his. “what’s wrong, baby?” he asks gently, his voice breathy and low. 
your cheeks heat up, not used to hearing that pet name on his lips. “um, you’re just, uh… big,” you squeak out, a little embarrassed to admit to him.
his expression softens, relieved that he hasn’t done anything to hurt you (yet). “you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he says, his tone lightening a bit.
immediately you shake your head, not wanting to give him the wrong impression. “i want to,” you say sincerely. “just– don’t know if i can.”
he smiles like you’ve just told him he won the lottery– and with you, he might as well have. “we’ll go slow,” he promises.
you exhale and gently tug at his underwear, finally releasing his cock. it’s big, like you expected, and covered in pretty veins. you wrap your hand around him, but he’s so big, your thumb and index finger aren’t even close to touching. so you add your other hand, completely gripping him, and he moans at the sight of his cock resting in your tiny hands.
you’re just about to put your lips around his tip when you hear your ringtone go off. you whine in annoyance at being interrupted and move your head away from him, taking your hands off of his cock and laying them on his thighs. 
“who is it?” you ask, nodding up at your phone on the table next to seungcheol.
he groans at the loss, but leans over to check your phone for you. “uh, it’s ‘mom’?”
you whine and reach out your hand. “give it here.”
“baby, please,” he grumbles, handing it down to you.
“i’ll be quick,” you whisper before accepting the call. he pouts and leans his head back against the back of the chair, staring at the ceiling.
“hi mom,” you say into the phone, your voice coming out a little breathier than you intend.
“hi sweetie! how’s your trip going so far? sorry again that we missed you,” she starts, and you know you’re in for a long phone call. the woman could talk for hours, days even, and now is definitely not the time.
when you look up, seungcheol is staring at you again, a mischievous grin on his face. he puts a finger to his lips, signaling you to be quiet, then hooks his arms under you to help you stand. his hands slide to your hips, guiding and pulling you down onto his lap.
“mom, i’m– a little busy right now,” you choke out, trying your damn hardest to keep your voice steady with cheol’s hands on you.
“oh?” the surprise is evident in your mother’s voice. “i thought you didn’t have any plans? did you find something fun to do? you better not be working on work, i told you you’ve been needing a vacation for way too long! your boss can have whatever it is in the new year, you–”
cheol grips you tightly, rolling your hips against his dick, and you have to slap your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from whimpering out loud. he looks up at you, wordlessly asking if you want him to stop. 
you squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head. as much as it mortifies you fooling around while you’re literally on the phone with your own mother, the thrill of being caught only turns you on even more.
“no, mom, i’m not working, but i am– busy,” you interrupt.
“well, do you want me to call back in a bit?” you can hear the frown in her voice, the tone she gets when she knows you’re lying.
“no!” you cry out as your clit rubs against the head of seungcheol’s cock, giving you a jolt of pleasure. “i–mean, i’ll call you later. when i’m done,” you recover, hoping to god she hasn’t noticed anything off about you.
“sweetie… are you at the gym?” she questions, and you breathe a sigh of relief that it doesn’t seem like she’s caught on to what you’re really doing. “i’m so proud of you, honey, i know you’ve been trying to do that more lately! well, i’ll leave you be then. have a good workout!”
well, you will be having a workout today… just not the kind she’s thinking of.
“th-thanks,” you stutter. suddenly cheol thrusts hard against you, and the movement makes you lose your balance and fall forward a little. you catch yourself on him, your hand flat against his firm chest. “bye, mom.”
“bye, sweetie! have fun!”
he shoots you a satisfied smirk and you sit back as you fumble to hang up as fast as you can, tossing your phone on the carpet behind you and climbing back down onto your knees.
you finally wrap your lips around him, fingernails gripping his thighs as you struggle to take him in your mouth. not only is he long, but he’s girthy, and you have to stretch your mouth open wide to fit him in. even then, you can’t fit all of him, so you put both hands back around the base of his cock where your mouth can’t reach and you begin slowly bobbing up and down, swirling your tongue around him.
his hips buck up roughly into your mouth and instantly tears prick at your eyes. “sorry,” he moans, but you just shake your head and keep going. he grips down hard on the armrests of the chair to stop himself from moving.
you can feel him hitting the back of your throat with every move and you know your mouth is gonna hurt like a bitch later, but the almost melodic sound of his moans is enough to make you want to have his dick in your mouth forever. knowing that it’s you making him feel like this could give you enough energy to suck him off for days on end.
your abdomen throbs with neglect, but the weight of his cock in your mouth is too good to stop. if you didn’t literally need both hands to fit all the way around him, you would’ve already started touching yourself, but both your hands are… occupied elsewhere.
desperate for any kind of stimulation, you press your thighs together, shifting to rub them against each other. at the angle you’re kneeling you can feel the thin fabric of your panties pressing against your pussy, and you buck your hips, trying to get the lace to give you what you want.
but it’s nowhere near enough, and seungcheol notices when you whine frustratedly around his cock, eyes squeezed shut and hands shaking. he grips your head carefully, pulling you off of him with a groan.
you look up at him with watery eyes and he takes in the sight, your mascara smeared and running down your cheeks and your eyes red and wet from choking around him for so long. 
“can i eat you out? please?” he practically begs, breathing heavily.
“o-okay,” you rasp, the words coming out hoarse.
his eyebrows furrow as he catches his breath. he’d tried so hard not to go rough on you, to stop himself from fucking your throat. it’s only your first time with him, and he really, really hopes it won’t be the last, so he’s mentally kicking himself for losing control.
you see his worried expression, so you cough, trying to clear your throat. “i’m fine,” you reassure him, voice a little less coarse than before but still more than he would’ve liked. 
“are you sure?” he asks cautiously.
“mhm. please,” you whimper.
he smiles and wraps his arms around you, helping you stand. your knees crack and he looks concerned again, but you shake your head. “just sore from kneeling. don’t worry.”
you give him a reassuring look, and he finally relents. suddenly he lifts you with terrifying ease, carrying you across the room to toss you onto the bed like nothing.
he climbs on top of you, his face hovering over your lower half.
“you gonna give me a few, baby?” he asks, his tone saccharine sweet. “gotta prep you enough.”
you croak out a yes, watching his movements with vigilance as his calloused fingertips play with the delicate hem of your panties, teasing.
but he doesn’t move any further, just stares up at you through his eyelashes, and you assume he’s waiting for you to say something.
“p-please?” you sniffle, thinking maybe he wants you to beg him for it. and he does, and you would, but you both know that’s for another time.
he presses a light kiss to your cunt over the fabric, moaning into your skin. “god, you’re so good for me, baby. gonna give you everything you want.”
as much as he wants to rip your pretty little underwear off your body and eat you out like his last meal, he knows he has to start slow, give you both a chance to get used to what the other likes instead of jumping straight into the deep end.
so he keeps his eyes locked with yours as he slips the lacy fabric down your hips, carefully so as not to tear them by accident.
you’re embarrassingly wet from nothing at all, your panties completely soaked through. a thin string of your arousal connects from your cunt to the fabric, and he groans lowly, watching it break.
his gentleness is unbelievably hot, and you can’t deny that him being so deliberate with taking them off makes you want to let him rip them off of you in a heartbeat. so what if they’re your favorite pair? you’d buy ten pairs to replace them if you have to.
you lift your legs, helping him slide your panties off so he can toss them away. he settles back down and tenderly pries your thighs apart, setting each leg to the side and leaving you wide open for him. he stares at your pussy for a moment, glistening with wetness. his intense, focused attention on you makes you gush, your muscles clenching around nothing as he watches enraptured. using two fingers he spreads your folds apart, exposing your dripping hole to his fervent gaze.
“cheol,” you mewl out his name in desperation. 
“‘m right here, baby,” he says, his eyes flicking up to your face for a second to make sure you’re okay. you nod, silently begging him to continue. he cups your pussy, and the feeling of sheer size as his massive hand envelopes you is enough to send a shiver down your spine.
automatically your hips buck into his hand, grinding against his palm as you toss your head back and forth against the pillows, grateful to finally feel some relief. 
he coos and you throw your arm over your face in embarrassment at his reaction, sheepish about being so desperate for a man you only met a couple of days ago. but his response isn’t to tease you or degrade you, but to admire you. so needy, so beautiful. and for right now, all his.
his hand still cupped against you, he slowly slips his ring and middle finger into your hole, letting out a pleased hum when you immediately clench around him.
“so wet for me, baby,” he sighs, gently curling his fingers inside you but otherwise keeping them still to let you adjust. “you’re so fucking sexy.”
you whimper, and he removes his fingers, seeing you’re ready for him to give you what he promised. even after being inside you for only a few seconds his fingers are soaked, completely coated in your juices. he looks up at you to see if you’re still comfortable with everything he’s doing, and when you open your mouth without hesitating even for a second, he thinks he might cum on the spot.
“so well behaved,” he praises, pushing his fingers into your waiting mouth. you close your lips around them eagerly, sucking yourself off of him in earnest.
you sigh when he pulls them out again, moving back down to sit between your still-open legs. he presses a gentle kiss to the inside of both your thighs before pushing his face into your waiting pussy.
when his mouth first makes contact with your cunt, you let out a high whine, back arching off the bed in pleasure. his lips completely surround your swollen clit, and your hand flies down to his head, gripping his hair as your hips writhe against his face.
his tongue is everywhere, gliding over every inch of you, licking and sucking and working you towards your orgasm impossibly fast. you can feel your clit throbbing in his mouth, and your breath hitches when he grazes his teeth over it, making you jolt.
his hands loop around your hips, spreading the skin and forcing you open so he has better access to your cunt.
heat pools in your stomach and you feel the familiar burn start to build in between your legs. “co-coming,” you gasp. “cheol, i’m–”
he groans into your cunt in response, sending waves throughout your body.
you sneak a glance down at him. his eyes are squeezed shut as he devours you, fucking you with his tongue with the most blissful look on his face, as if there isn’t anywhere in the world he would rather be right now than with his face buried in your pussy and your thighs trembling around his head.
the sight alone is enough to send you over the edge, muscles contracting and fingers grabbing desperately at the sheets to ground you as you stumble into your orgasm.
your whines stick in your throat as you gasp for breath, vision going white as you cum harder than you ever have in your life. no vibrator on earth could compare to the way seungcheol feels between your legs— and you’ve got quite the collection of toys back at home.
he keeps sucking, carrying you through your orgasm until you flop back on the bed, thoroughly exhausted. he finally pulls off of you for just a second, catching his own breath.
“god, can’t wait to get my cock in you,” he murmurs before diving back in, barely giving you time to recover before he’s building you back up for another.
you sob out his name as his tongue slips inside your hole and back out, dragging up and down your folds and spreading your juices everywhere. you can feel it dripping down your thighs and onto the comforter below.
“coming, coming, please, cheol, please, i–” you pant, struggling for words.
instinctively your legs snap shut around his head, trying to hold him in place, but he easily pries them apart again as you hurtle towards another orgasm. you cum on his tongue, again, sobbing his name like it’s the only word you know.
when he finally decides you’re ready to take his cock, you’re nothing short of a mess. pretty face smeared with makeup and tears, pretty cunt smeared with cum and saliva. he sits back on his heels, admiring how you look. your eyes flutter shut, chest heaving as you gasp for air, and he thinks he hasn’t seen a more beautiful sight in his life.
“you okay, baby?” he hums, massaging your thigh.
a weak “yes” is all you can manage. he runs a hand over your skin soothingly, this time giving you plenty of time to recover. 
when you’ve finally caught your breath enough to sit up, he’s still watching you cautiously. 
“all right?” he asks, and you nod. “if you’re done, we don’t have to keep going…” he starts, but you stop him, shaking your head.
“i told you before, i want to,” you say, taking his hand and lacing your fingers with his. 
he smiles, and you lay back down, pulling him on top of you. he adjusts back in between your legs, positioning himself at the entrance of your pussy. he drags his cock through your folds, collecting what’s left of his frantic makeout session from earlier and spreading it over his length, using it as lubrication.
still holding your hand, he starts to press into you, just barely the tip. you gasp as he keeps going, carefully pushing inch after inch into your tight hole. 
you squeeze his hand and he freezes, not even halfway inside yet. “okay?” he murmurs, rubbing your hand with his thumb.
“yeah, just– one second, please,” you stutter, breathing hard.
he wants to kiss you, so badly, but he can’t bend over without moving and hurting you. so he settles for bringing your entwined hands to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand.
the new feeling subsides, the pain of being split open beginning to lessen as you adjust to his size.
“you can… keep going,” you exhale softly.
he nods and starts to push in again, stuffing you full. it takes a while, but when finally he bottoms out, you both let out moans: him at the feeling of your tight hole clenching around him, and you at the feeling of being so full in the best ways.
after staying still to give you more time to adjust, he begins to pick up the pace, starting slowly and gradually building up until he’s pounding into you.
your back slides up and down the bed, each thrust sending you closer and closer to the wall above your head. attentive as ever, cheol notices, and stills his hips for just a second so he can grab your waist with both hands and yank you down away from the headboard. you yelp and clutch at his back, holding on for dear life as he continues pounding into you.
the bed squeaks with each thrust, and for a split second you worry about breaking the bedframe and having to pay for the damage. but then seungcheol is brushing your hair out of your face and cradling your head between his forearms, and all the thoughts in your head disappear when he stares into your eyes, your faces inches apart.
“can i– kiss you?” he groans, his eyelashes fluttering.
“please, ch-cheol,” you gasp. your hands claw at his shoulders, trying to pull him impossibly closer.
he leans down, closing the distance between you and pressing his lips to yours, somehow too gentle and too rough at the same time. your senses seem to explode, so much happening at once, and you move your hands up to the back of his head, threading your fingers through his hair and tug, pushing him to kiss you deeper.
he moans into you, a deep, rumbling sound you feel all the way in the pit of your stomach. his thrusts get rougher and rougher, and you know he’s getting close. he pulls his lips off of you with a gasp. “whe–where do you want me to–”
“inside,” you plead, your voice coming out throaty. “please, cheol, inside, please–”
he cuts you off and captures your lips again, moaning into your mouth. his hips continue to rut into you desperately and you can only hold on, coming closer and closer to your own orgasm.
you can feel him throb deep in your abdomen, the tip of his cock kissing your walls with each snap of his hips. he shifts slightly and suddenly he’s fucking you like you’ve never felt before. the new angle has you seeing stars, and you clench around him, letting out a choked sob as you come undone on his cock.
your hoarse voice crying out his name over and over again while you quiver in his arms is too much for him, and with a guttural moan he lets go, his own orgasm washing over him and flooding your insides with his cum.
his hips begin to slow, rocking into you with a lazy rhythm as you both come down from your highs. his arms still surround either side of your head, and he moves his wrist to brush your hair out of your face. your hair is sticky with sweat and your eyes are puffy from crying, your mouth hanging open slightly as you struggle to catch your breath.
cheol lays on top of you, resting his head on your chest but careful not to put his full weight on you, letting you cockwarm him for a while. you’re both exhausted and you just lay there together, basking in the afterglow of pleasure.
but as much as you never want the moment to end, you can feel his cum leaking out of you, and you know you probably look like a horrible mess. you whine and push weakly at his shoulders, making him sit up quickly in concern.
“could you… in my bag,” you mumble, pointing a shaky hand towards your cosmetic bag. “m-makeup wipes.”
he slides off of you, leaving a sweet kiss on your forehead before crossing the room to grab them for you. you stay laying on your back, staring at the ceiling, trying to comprehend what just happened.
“here,” cheol says softly, handing you the wipes. you give him a faint smile and prop yourself up on your elbows. you wince when you sit back on your tailbone, sore from how hard seungcheol had fucked you.
he sits at the edge of the bed and gives you an apologetic pout, knowing it’s mostly his fault. “do you… need anything?” he asks shyly, not sure what you need him to do.
“stay?” you ask, voice small. “gonna have to shower, and i’ll– um, need help,” you finish. there’s no chance you’ll be able to walk straight for at least the next few hours, let alone stand in the shower by yourself.
he smiles and puts a hand on your thigh, rubbing at the bruises that have started to form there. “i’ll stay as long as you want me to.”
you scrub at your face, getting the last of the mascara off your cheeks before tossing the dirtied wipe into the trash can by the nightstand. 
with a bit of effort, you manage to throw your legs over the side of the bed, sitting at the edge. you glance behind you at the bed covered in both of your fluids, and you wince, knowing most of it is your fault. “sorry about the sheets,” you whisper, resisting the urge to hide your face in embarrassment.
“baby, we’ll wash them,” he smiles. “don’t worry about it.”
“okay,” you say quietly. you look over to cheol, still sitting beside you, and reach out with both hands for him to help you up.
he jumps up, taking your hands and tugging you to your feet. your legs wobble when you stand, and he slides his arm around your waist to support you as he helps walk you to the bathroom.
you flop down onto the toilet while seungcheol starts the shower, and you have to hold back a laugh at the sight. the buff, sexy innkeeper, butt-ass naked in your bathroom, leaning over the edge of the tub to test the water temperature and make sure it’s not too hot for you.
you know you’re only here for a week, but you could really get used to this.
taglist | @shuatm @yeosayang @noniestars @dkakapizzaboy @enhacolor @kimy3na @candidupped @berrryshortcake @tinkerbell460 @haraethx @iheartyeonnnnn @mxnghao8
3K notes · View notes
psychedelic-ink · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
𝐒𝐮𝐢 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝
pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader
genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, secret relationship
series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.
word count: 6.1k
chapter summary: you and joel take your relationship to the next level.
warnings: themes of grief and loneliness, hurt/comfort, fluff, body painting, joel being a very lousy nude model, oral (male receiving), heavy petting, fingering, shower sex, edging, dirty talking
a/n: aaaaand we're BACK-- the hiatus is officially over and I am so ready to focus on this series. I've missed them so much and I hope you guys all did too 💗 also special thanks to @undercoverpena for cheering me on while I was writing this, love you to the moon and back bby xx
Chapter Eleven || Chapter Thirteen
Tumblr media
Loneliness had never been a stranger to you. You had your own brand of it, like a homemade fig preserve. Being so close with it, you’ve added something from yourself, and in return, it has branded your personality in such a way that it has become hard to think there was anything but. 
For the longest time that special brand of loneliness had been your closest friend. During adulthood, you noticed how tired you were of asking for people to be emotionally aware of your needs, your wants. You were tired of spelling it out for them. Your parents weren’t like you, neither was Auggie. No one around you was emotional like you were, so you learned to keep it locked tight in your heart. You cried at night. You smiled during the day. You felt off and weird when family members hugged you and wept on your shoulder, you dissociated. You’ve noticed this, especially at your grandfather’s funeral. He was gone and you hadn’t shed a tear among the dark black fabrics. 
Auggie knew you did this, but alas, it didn’t really matter. 
So when you found a family emotionally rich despite not having much, it came as a mild shock to you. Sarah didn’t have these issues. She didn’t care if she was emotional or not, or if what she said came off as needy. The only emotional constipation you noticed was between brothers, but even that didn’t stop them from addressing what they felt during an argument. 
You were no stranger to emotional outbursts. Reading a book and eyes welling before you could finish a sentence. 
Now, you feel less lonely thanks to Joel, Tommy, and Sarah, each filling a different gap in your withered soul. But even that doesn’t stop the old habit of sewing your mouth shut. 
You wake with a heavy weight on your chest. It’s still dark, the sky a dark shade of royal blue. It’s actually a beautiful night. However, your eyes are blind to it. Your skin is damp with sweat. If you saw a nightmare, you don’t remember what it was. You remember going to bed uncomfortable, Tommy’s sad eyes branded into your lids like tattoos you both want to and don’t want to get rid of. 
You gradually rise from the bed, the thin summer quilt sliding off your now cold body. You shudder. It had been a long time since you last felt this way. Empty and lonely. It always feels like you have to suffer through these emotions on your own, your need to smile through it more prominent than anything else. 
You smack your lips together, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. You need water. Ice cold water. 
Going down the stairs you don’t think how dark it is, or how some particular shadows remind you of your childhood when you would wake up thanks to the jarring sound of mosquitos, looking for comfort downstairs where your grandparents were usually up. Fuck, your chest is even heavier now. The muscle in your chest more like a cannonball than heart. You’re hyper-aware of the way your chest rises and falls with every breath and quickly, you make your way to the kitchen. 
The light of the fridge momentarily blinds you but despite your burning irises you manage to wrap your fingers around the familiar handle of the old jug. You pour yourself a big glass and take small swallows.
A soft wind caresses the outer skeleton of the house. The shadows of leaves dance over the walls, again, a familiar sight that drags you back and makes you sick simultaneously. 
“You a’right there, sweetheart?” 
You jump at the sound of a voice deepened with sleep. Tommy is staring at you from the entrance, brows furrowed, the crease between them so much like his brother. Taking another small sip of water, you swallow and place the cold glass on the counter. 
“I’m fine,” you grit out, your voice leveled. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.” 
Before you know it, Tommy’s warm hands are on your face, cradling your cheeks. His thumbs move over your cheekbones, pressing and applying pressure over the bone. Your heart skips a beat. It takes you everything not to lean into his touch, to seek out that comfort only he could give. But you think of Joel, you think of him, and you stop yourself. If Tommy knew about you and Joel, if you were completely honest with him—an open book, you would’ve taken that comfort to yourself, not a worry in your heart but he doesn’t know and that alone makes your stomach clench with guilt. 
“You don’t look fine,” his hands slide down to your shoulders. “Was it a nightmare?” 
You blink heavily, your eyes locked on one another. Two broken people in a dark kitchen. It pains you that a nightmare is Tommy’s first guess. You wonder how many times he’d woken up to the faux scent of gunpowder and screams only to be comforted by the darkness of the ceiling. 
“Something like that. I. . sometimes forget that they’re gone,” your eyes drop to his chest. “And then I remember that no matter what, in the end, I’ll be lonely.” 
“Lonely?” he spits out the word, shocked, hurt and baffled. “What are you talkin’ about? You have Joel—You have me.” 
You know you do. You really do. But after years of going through it all alone, to see your friends have their own support systems and people to protect them, care for them, it’s hard to believe you’ve found your people. It’s hard to believe that years of solitude where you had to take care of yourself was over. Old habits die hard. Your heart shatters piece by piece. Your heart nothing but a heavy weight in your chest. You want to collapse, to scream, shout and cry. Salty tears sting the corner of your eyes. Suddenly you’re drowning in your past like it’s still your present, the thickness of it goes all the way up to your neck and you can’t breathe— 
“Hey—hey,” Tommy cups your cheeks, thumbs running down where tears would be but your skin is dry. “Come back to me, it’s a’right. I’ll always be with you, you know? Even if you move far away, I’ll always be a thorn in your ass.” 
You crack a smile and manage to nod, placing a hand over his own. You think a tear finally falls, maybe even two. You hate feeling like this. Hate it. Tommy doesn’t look convinced by your expression. 
“Do. . .do you want me to call Joel?” 
His words freeze you to the bone. Of course, he would ask that—Tommy Miller, always thoughtful, always putting others first. They both do. You even think to some extent Sarah does the same thing. All of them throwing themselves in front of a moving train in different ways. 
You don’t know if he’s noticed something. Or if he just thinks that Joel’s presence would be more soothing, since he’s used to relying on his older brother. 
Either way, you want him to know that he’s enough. 
And he’ll always be enough. 
You shake your head, “No,” he furrows his brows when you part your arms. “But I wouldn’t say no to a hug.” 
Strong arms sneak under your armpits and broad palms press against your back. Tommy pulls you incredibly close. Holds you indescribably tight. His scent fills your lungs. A bit of sweat mixed with a day-old deodorant. He smells nice. He always had. His skin is warm against your cheek and you smile widely this time but he doesn’t see. 
“Thank you, Tommy,” you whisper into the darkness. “I would be lost without you.” 
Tumblr media
“Are you sure you’re a’right?” 
“Yes, Joel.” 
“Hundred percent sure?” 
“Yes, sir,” you declare, your gaze fixed on Joel as you peer from the side of the canvas for a better look. “Now stand still.” 
Joel grumbles something inaudible and straightens his neck, attempting to keep his limbs as still as possible. Your eyes rove across his broad shoulders, the expanse of his chest, you take in the shadows that appear between every sinewy muscle and think about how to convey it into your painting. You still haven’t dared to look further down. Looking down means that you’ll definitely be distracted. 
You sketch a couple of lines that vaguely resemble his shape. You’ve missed painting nudes and when you mentioned it to Joel, he was eager to accept without actually realizing he had to stay still for a generous amount of time. 
“You should’ve called,” he grumbles. “I would’ve come straight over.” 
“I know,” you sigh. “But it was late, and Tommy was there.” 
He doesn’t say anything but you can sense his displease. 
“He’s my friend, Joel,” you answer, observing the thick contour of his neck. “And your brother.” 
“I know that. I just don’t like the idea of not being there for you.” 
“Tell him then,” you say a bit harshly. He doesn’t seem affected by your shift in tone. Another line joins the others. “If it was anything serious I would’ve called, hell, I would’ve come to you but it wasn’t that serious. I was just in a. . . mood.” 
“Tommy sure don’t think so.” 
You don’t say anything and focus on drawing the rest of his torso, he clicks his tongue in frustration, “I hate when you do this, you know.” 
You raise your eyebrows, “Do what?” 
“Downgrade your problems. It’s okay if you’re still grievin’. It’s okay if there are some things you’re still workin’ out. I just don’t want you to think you’re alone, I can be your rock, sweetheart. I’d be happy to.” 
“You are my rock, Joel—and keep still.” He huffs and straightens again, your lips twitching into a smile. “I’ll try to open up more. Promise. I do feel really lucky I have you. And Sarah—and Tommy. Some nights I just wake up feeling bad. Yesterday was just a bit more intense.” Joel grunts in approval and you add. “Also hasn’t Tommy heard of the phrase ‘snitches get stitches’?” 
“He wasn’t snitchin’,” he pouts, you want to take his bottom lip between your fingers and kiss him. “I actually asked how he was doin’ but he quickly brushed it off and told me about you instead.” 
“Of course, he did.” 
He nods but still seems wound up like a toy. His head drops a bit, the click of your tongue reminding him to keep still. 
Your eyes trace the contours of Joel’s body. He’s an excellent specimen, everything about him so human, so raw. Every freckle, every crinkle you want to eternalize onto your canvas. He’s not looking at you anymore. Eyes glued to the legs of the easel. You still haven’t fully taken in the sight of him. Sometimes you’re truly afraid of how strongly you feel for him, how much you’d be willing to lay down just to be with him. 
Honestly, a pocket of time would be ideal. That way you could spend eternity in this peaceful moment, living in bliss. 
You place the pencil down and walk up to him. His gaze is drawn to your once more, “Sorry, sweet tea, did I move again?” 
“Maybe a bit,” you lie, standing an inch away from his naked body. You press your thumbs against his cheekbones then slide them down, feeling the roughness of hair tickling your skin. His eyes flutter shut momentarily, before opening again. 
You don’t say a word. Time is still around you and you believe if you try hard enough this can be your forever. You trace the outer lines of his lips, then trace the seam. His lips part, a bit of tongue showing in between—you touch that too, shallowly dipping one finger before moving on to his neck, “To draw is to feel,” you muster, the ball of your thumb grazing firmly over his Adam’s apple. “Will you let me feel you?” 
“‘Course,” he chokes out. “Whatever you need.” 
His words make your chest swell with affection. Joel’s words make you feel brave enough to allow your gaze to venture down. You press the flat of your palms over the swell of his stomach, something trembles within—life, you think, he’s so full of it. Your one hand dares to go lower, playing with the dark curls that lead to his soft cock. 
However, he doesn’t remain soft for long, it twitches and grows, the head gaining a reddish hue. 
Joel tilts his head, gradually leaning in to claim your lips with his own. He stops when your fingers bite into his bare hips, lodging into that delicate spot between bone and muscle, he swallows thickly, cock raising with attention. 
“Stay still,” you whisper. “And maybe I’ll reward you.” 
“Oh, we’re playing that game now?” he says with a crooked smile that makes your stomach twist delightfully. You only smile as your hand slides lower and lower, until you cup his semi-hard cock. His breath hitches. 
I love you like this, you want to say but remain silent. You stroke him slowly until he’s fully hard, the warm muscle throbbing in your palm, you press your lips against his neck, sucking on his skin until his hips jerk. 
“I’m not playing any games,” you mouth into his skin. “If you let me paint you, I’ll let you fuck my mouth. Does that sound like a fair deal?” 
Joel thrusts into your hand once more, groaning as you lick the vein that throbs under his skin, “I won’t lie, sweetheart, that might be hard if you keep your hand where it is.” He exhales a shaky breath, the warmth of it fanning your skin. “But sounds fair enough, I’ll try.” 
You press a quick kiss to the small patch within his beard and pull away before he can follow the heat of your lips. He’s as still as a statue when you get behind the canvas, but instead of resuming sketching the rough outline of his body, you grab two tubes of paint and a brush; though you have your doubts you’ll be using the tool, you’d much prefer to feel the heat of his skin softening the paint between your fingers. 
When you come back to him, confusion crosses his face. 
“I thought you were gonna be paintin’?” 
Your lips twitch into a sinister smile, “I am.” 
As cliche as it might sound, Joel has always reminded you of a deep, rich shade of red—the color of blood—but he also reminds you of an earthy purple, the type of shade that makes you want to bury your fingers in it as if you might actually feel the earth itself.  
You shake two tubes of paint in front of his eyes. He’s still confused, yet remains still. You pop the red paint open first, squeezing a generous amount over his shoulder. You watch it trickle down, drops of crimson staining his torso, the color so deep that it looks too real. Your heart jumping, you quickly smear it down his chest and all the way to his stomach. Just like you predicted, the brush is forgotten, slipping from your fingers and onto the carpeted floor. Joel shudders, his breath caught in his throat, you see him clench his jaw. 
“Darlin’. . .” he rasps, voice full of gravel, and your hand stops where it follows the V of his lower abdomen.
“Do you want me to stop?” 
“No,” he answers quickly, breathily. “Don’t ever stop touching me. Don’t ever stop looking at me like that—like I’m the most valuable thing you have. Like I’m worth a damn.” 
“You are.” 
Slowly, your fingertip traces an invisible path upward, leaving a trail of red paint in its wake. Joel shudders and gulps loudly. You draw meaningless shapes, circle where his tattoo is, and draw shapes of ancient alphabets you vaguely remember from when you read a book about the Late Bronze Age. Joel shudders, twitches, and tenses under your touch but never actually moves, keeping his stance. 
After the red pigment is nothing more but a fading shade of pink, you pour some purple paint into your palm and apply it directly. You press your hand directly above his heart, leaving your handprint over it before moving to his back, “Fuck,” he groans. 
Looking down, you notice him clenching his buttocks and slightly swaying forward, you smile, his cock must be dripping. You can’t wait to take him in your mouth, for him to use you however he pleases. You need him to be desperate when he takes you, sliding his length down your throat as he berates you for taunting him with sinful touches in the guise of making art. 
You press your hands together and smear the remnants of red with the purple, the fresh paint overwhelming the other. When both hands are fully coated, your cup both his ass cheeks, sliding your hands up, you kiss the taut skin between his shoulder blades. You leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses all the way to his neck and lick the sensitive spot behind his earlobe. 
“I’d wrap my hand around your cock but I’m afraid the paint isn’t edible so you wouldn’t be able to fuck my mouth,” you tease. “Tell me what you want to do to me, Joel?” 
He groans, “Keep this up and you’ll find out, sweetheart. I’m not a patient man, you should know.” 
“But isn’t the wait fun?” you challenge, your hands sliding up to his front, right above his pelvis. “The taste of sex on your tongue, the way your cock throbs with the thought of my warm cunt tight around it? Don’t you feel that tingle. . .” you gradually lower yourself, dragging your tongue down his spine, a choked out sound rips from his throat, “going down your spine, reminding you of how good it’s finally going to feel when you push down my throat, cutting my airflow and taking me however you want?” 
Joel breathes heavily, his stomach clenching with every whispered word, “Darlin’, please.” 
“Turn around.” 
You look up as he does, you gently take his hand and place it on your cheek, your heart dissolving into something thick and sweet like honey when his thumb strokes your skin. His gaze grows soft, the arousal in them dimming, splitting away like waves to show the emotion. 
“Your knees are gonna hurt,” he says, voice dropping. 
He’s right, they are going to hurt. “I don’t care.” 
You lower both hands to your lap, obediently parting your lips, sticking your tongue out. Joel wraps a hand around his cock and jerks himself until he’s fully hard, he holds you by the hair and drags you closer. 
“You want me to fuck that pretty mouth?” 
“Please,” you repeat his own plea from earlier. 
The heft of his cock on your tongue almost feels like a blessing from above. Your eyes flutter shut. Joel slides himself torturously slow, inch by inch, as he fills your mouth, your lips stretching wide to accommodate his width. He moves down your throat, awakening your gag reflex, you hold it down, choking around his cock. 
“Fuuuuuck, that feels good,” he groans, throwing his head back. With shallow thrusts, he works your throat open. Your one hand slides between your thighs as the other braces against Joel’s thick thigh. Right now, you’re relieved you’re wearing your favorite flannel pajama shorts instead of something uncomfortable like jeans. “That’s it, touch yourself, sweetheart. I want you to come while I’m fuckin’ your throat.” You whine filthily at his words, pressing your fingers between your clothed folds, you stroke your aching clit. Joel doesn’t stop running his mouth. “You must be soaked down there, poor thing.” 
Tears sting the corner of your eyes and you manage to slip your fingers down your shorts. His thrusts become rougher, sliding all the way out before fucking himself even deeper into your mouth, down your throat. You swallow helplessly around him and the groan that slips from between his lips forces the clench of your cunt, you breathe heavily through your nose and draw vicious circles around your clit. 
“Look at you—you like me fuckin’ your mouth, honey?” You nod, his lips curling in the most devastating way. “You gonna come while rubbing that pretty pussy of yours?” 
You nod again, this time accompanied by a moan. The reverberations of the sound trembles against his sensitive cock and he rocks into your mouth harder—this time tears do slip past your fluttering lashes. You can’t breathe, your vision is blurry, yet this is everything you’ve ever wanted. Your heart feels so full, so content. He fucks every thought out of your head, overwhelming your senses.  
“Shit, shit, shit—Don’t look like that, sweetheart, don’t cry, if you do I—I’ll—” Spit trickles down the corner of your lips, everything a wet, sopping mess. With every thrust, he manages to go down your throat, his mouth constantly muttering words you can barely hear. More tears flow freely down your cheeks, mixing with the saliva and precome going down your neck. His hips move in a constant stammering motion, balls heavy on your chin as he snaps shallowly into your throat without pulling back. 
You look up to him. Your eyes shining and glimmering, Joel meets your gaze, his eyes going wide, hips stilling—
He spills down your throat, hard. 
You swallow, swallow, and swallow, gulping everything that he gives. But it’s still not enough, there’s too much, some of it spilling from the sides from where his cock stretches your lips. Your body jerks, your fingers move slowly around your clit and you press harder, your feel the warm slick dripping down your fingers, making a mess of the rug underneath. 
“Sorry, sorry—” Joel mutters over and over again almost like a chant. His voice hoarse as his chest raises with quick shallow breaths. He then lets out a deep exhale, his cock throbbing in your mouth as he pulls out. “I wanted to last longer.” 
You kiss the tip of his spent cock, “Come here,” you mumble and he quickly drops down, you take his hand, pulling it between your legs. His eyes snap to yours, pupils eating away the color as he presses two fingers into your soaked cunt. Your eyes roll and your hips immediately grind down. “I came too. I came from you fucking my mouth, Joel. That’s how good it felt. You don’t need to apologize.” 
“Fuck, you’re really makin’ it hard to stay soft darlin’.” You smile as you cup his flaccid cock, feeling the weight of it in your palm, he hisses. “You’re gonna pay for teasin’ me, neighbor. ‘Should take you on my fuckin’ knee as punishment.” 
A fresh gush of wetness spreads around his fingers, “I think I would like that,” you say, kissing his neck. “But now I think I should actually finish sketching you for my painting.” 
“I don’t think I have much strength left in my legs,” he says with a chuckle. 
“Who said anything about standing?” you stand up, taking him with you. “I’m going to paint something else and for that, I want you on the bed.” 
Tumblr media
You hadn't realized how much paint you managed to cover yourself in when you were pouring purple and red down Joel's shoulders.
He actually managed quite well when you asked him to lay on the bed instead of standing, and you’re fairly certain he dozed off for a moment or two. You didn’t mind. You loved how the painting had ended up, a sensual silhouette of a working man sleeping with sun cascading down his skin. 
“Surprise surprise, pourin’ paint on me got you dirty too,” Joel coos playfully, following you into the dimly lit bathroom. He stuffs your bedsheets into the washing machine, your eyes catch the smear of red and purple paint. “Want us to take a shower beautiful? We still have time until Sarah comes back from school.” 
“Someone’s cheerful now that they’ve taken their nap.” Joel holds you by the waist and pulls you close, unlike him, you’re still fully clothed—dirty, but clothed. His cock presses against the swell of your stomach. 
“I’m mighty tired of bein’ the only one bearin’ my naked ass,” he tugs off your shirt, the motion so quick that your protest dissolves on your tongue before it can materialize. “Also you owe me a nice back scrub with all those fancy soaps you have.” 
“I thought I paid my depth when you came down my throat.” 
“I don’t recall sayin’ exactly how much you owed me for this.” 
Your lips split into a grin. Without moving away, you bend over and slip out of your shorts, throwing them towards the washing machine. The flickering lustful specks in his eyes make your heart jump, they look like gold. Despite coming down your throat about forty minutes ago, he still wants you. He’s not tired of spending time with you, talking to you, humoring you in your endeavors— he’s not even mildly annoyed, which is something you thought everyone would feel eventually if they spent enough time with you. It was only a matter of when. 
You suddenly slap your palms softly against his cheeks, cradling his scruffy cheeks. His eyes rip away from your naked body to meet your gaze. You take in a slow breath. And out. Your heart rams painfully within your chest. Joel’s eyes widen slightly as he takes in your expression, observing you slowly as if he’s tasting what you’re feeling like aged wine. His fingers slither around your wrist and sliver down your forearms. 
“Darlin’?” 
“I love you, Joel.” 
His lips part, not with surprise, but with relief. You’re smiling giddily now, not a feeling of worry in your bones, just happiness, eagerness. You don’t care if it’s too early. Too late. It’s what you feel. And all you feel is love love love. 
“I love you too, Tea.” 
Joel brings your palm to his lips and kisses the curve of it slowly, he moves up to the middle, his mustache tickling you when he lays another kiss, “I love you so fuckin’ much.” 
You close the distance, slanting your lips together, you drink him. His lips move to the beat of the moment, tickling down tenderly and smoothly like molasses. Joel’s tongue traces the seam of your lips and you open up for him. He tastes you quickly before pulling back. He exhales deeply, his breath fanning your swollen lips. 
“Let’s get cleaned up.” 
You grin, raising an eyebrow, “So you can get me dirty again?” 
“Somethin’ like that,” he huffs. 
Joel leads you to the tub, acting as if you’re his guest and not the other way around. He turns on the shower, allows the water to run down his fingers until the temperature is just right, and then carefully helps you step in. You moan happily at the way warm water moves down your skin, softening your body and chipping away at the paint. Joel stands right behind you. You want to turn around, clean him of the colorful mess, but he doesn’t budge. His hands touch your shoulders, then skims down. 
“You first,” he murmurs, fingers washing away the paint. You lean back. His hands follow a trail to your front, kneading your breasts. 
“I don’t have any paint there,” you hum. 
“My bad, these eyes aren’t what they used to be.” 
He gives them another squeeze before going lower and lower. . .  until he’s pushing his hand between your pressed tighs. You laugh, “I definitely don’t have any paint there.” 
His teeth suddenly sink into your shoulder. The blossoming pain makes you gasp and your body reacts by bending over, rolling your hips towards him. With a soft growl, Joel grips your hips and pushes you up against the glass panel. You moan with your breasts pressing firmly against the glass, the constant shower of water making you slip. 
Joel’s lips touch your ear, “Gonna fuck you with my fingers,” he rasps. “Want you to come all around them, sweetheart.” 
Your body flushes from the inside out, “What if I can’t?” 
“You don’t have a choice,” he pushes forward, notching his cock between your folds, you whimper. “If you want me to fuck you with this cock, you better show me how desperate you are for it by makin’ a mess, honey.” 
When you don’t answer he grips your neck and forces your head back, he kisses your forehead, “Are you gonna be good for me?” 
Your stomach bottoms out, “Y—Yes, I’ll be good.” 
He kisses your forehead once more before releasing you. You fall forward with a whimper, bracing your hands against the slippery panels. Joel slides two fingers inside of you with embarrassing ease, “You like it when I’m rough,” he states, thrusting the digits in and out. You nod. “I love you,” he then says, catching you but surprise. You clench around his fingers and he chuckles darkly. “God, you’re gonna make me go insane—I love you—” 
You clench again, a loud moan dropping from your lips. The sounds you make are drowned by the water, yet he can hear you crystal clear. Your body reacts viscerally to his words, a flame that won’t ever go out burning wild in your gut—between your legs. He whispered the words into your skin, into your mouth, against your tongue. You push against his fingers, urging him to go deeper. He does. He holds you by the neck while fucking you with thick fingers, you cry out his name, whimpering those three little words that make him go inside just as much as it does to you. 
“Come for me,” he grunts. “Come for me so I can fuck you for real.” 
“J–Joel, fuck—” 
Your back arches, your orgasm rips from you, he takes it. It’s violent, earth shattering. 
Your jaw drops as he squeezes your throat lightly, the pressure adding to the intensity. You can vaguely hear him muttering ‘That’s it’ over and over, but you can barely hear the rasp of his voice. 
Joel kisses your cheek, drags his lips down your neck, “How’re you feelin’?” 
“Good. . . great actually.” 
Pulling out his fingers, he pushes them between your lips, you lap at them hungrily. While you’re busy devouring your own taste, Joel buries himself deep in your cunt. You whimper around his fingers, brows furrowing with pleasure. He pulls the digits out and grips your chin. His chest heaves as he pulls almost all the way out before snapping forward again, burying himself into the tight warmth of your pussy. 
“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he mumbles, rocking back and forth. With every thrust, your lungs convulse. You desperately grip his forearm, but your fingers slip thanks to the water droplets that surround his skin, him letting out a sudden chuckle before pulling you towards his mouth. “Sorry, sweetheart, I don’t think I’m gonna last long now either. You make me feel like a teenager again.” 
Throwing your arm back, you tug the damp locks and force your lips together. You lick hungrily into his mouth. Joel moans loudly and you swallow every little sound he makes, your cunt fluttering and clamping around his length. He pounds into you sloppily, no coordination, no calculation—just need. 
To be wanted. To be devoured. What a wonderful feeling it was.  
Joel pulls out with a grunt, you hear the slick sounds of his fist as he jerks himself over the curve of your spine. You shudder when you feel it. Warm spend trickling down your skin, mixing with the water. He spreads your ass cheeks and pushes them together with his cock between them, he grinds once—twice, before heaving and dropping his head between your shoulder blades. 
“Sorry,” he mumbles, but you hear no regret behind the apology. It makes you glad. 
“Don’t be,” you turn and pick up the shower head, holding it right over his shoulders, you wipe the remaining paint away. Your stomach growls in protest, your lips twitch into a crooked smile. “God, all that worked an appetite. I’m starving.” 
“Want me to cook you somethin’?” 
Spraying the water over his other shoulder, you meet his gaze. He’s so sweet like this. His hair wet, curling at the ends. His body finally relaxed. You can’t help yourself and quickly press your lips into the corner of his jaw. 
“I have a watermelon in the fridge, you can cut that up for me.” 
“‘Course, darlin’. Anythin’ for you.” 
Tumblr media
Crickets chirp loudly. The wind pleasant, yet a bit too warm for your liking. You fan yourself with a hand as you lean back into the chair. Despite just taking a shower, you’re nearly dry. Summer is definitely not a good season for you. 
“Should I be offended you look so miserable right now?” Joel asks, sitting next to you. He bites into one of the watermelon slices and when a drop of sweet nectar escapes, he makes quick work of licking himself clean. You swallow, your insides pulsing. 
“No,” you sigh. “I just don’t like the heat very much.” 
“Well. . that might be a problem considering summer is basically here.” 
You groan and throw your head back, “Don’t remind me.” 
“Here,” he says, extending you a slice. “Eat.” 
You take the slice without objection, biting into the fleshy fruit. The cold juice of the watermelon feels good as it goes down your throat. You look over to the lawn, thanks to the heat most things have dried out. 
“I helped him a lot you know,” Joel says, his voice soft, as if afraid to spook you. “With the garden that is. He talked a lot about you.” 
“Did he now?” you muse, you chew the watermelon thoughtfully. Your eyes are glued to one of the butterflies in search of a flower. “I miss him.” 
“I know you do, sweetheart. I know. I wish I could ease your paint, but truthfully I have no idea how to do that.” 
“You do enough,” smiling, you turn to him and find that he’s already looking at you. “The silver lining is that I met you.” 
He parts his lips, eyes glossed over with emotion but before he can, both of you hear small steps approaching at the same time. 
“Oh, watermelon,” Sarah chirps, throwing her backpack to the floor. “Don’t mind if I do.” 
She takes a slice and sits down, eyes flitting between you and Joel. You try not to look at Joel then, your heart beating a bit too loudly for your liking. Sarah raises an eyebrow and locks her eyes with Joel, their expressions are similar when they’re about to wreak havoc. 
“What?” Joel snaps, angrily sinking his teeth into his watermelon, finishing it off. Both you and Sarah laugh, your heart feeling a bit lighter now. 
“Oh, nothin’,” Sarah rolls her tongue, mimicking her dad. “What have you two been up to?” 
“Your dad was helping me with the kitchen sink,” you answer quickly. “It’s been leaking all morning.” 
“If my dad is good at anything, it’s fixing stuff.” 
“I’m good at a lot of things,” Joel grumbles. 
“How was school?” you ask. 
Sarah’s shoulders fall a bit, but she quickly shakes it off and smiles, “It was good, nothing interesting happened.” 
You raise an eyebrow but don’t pry. Joel doesn’t seem to notice Sarah’s mood change. “We should better head off,” he says.
“But I’m still eating,” Sarah whines. “Can’t we stay a bit longer?” 
“We don’t wanna overstay our welcome.” 
You almost laugh at such an absurd thing. Him, overstaying his welcome? Never. But you also understand why he does it. Sarah is smart and by the looks she was giving you and him, she’s probably already suspicious. 
“You guys should take half of it,” you say, standing up. “I’m only one person anyway. If I eat this much watermelon I’ll end up growing one inside of me.” 
Both of them look at you deadpanned, you laugh, “You both have no humor!” 
Sarah turns to Joel, “Dad, I think you might wanna check if her water is laced with something.” 
“I think you’re right, baby girl,” Joel nods seriously. “There’s no other reason she would find that funny.” 
“If you guys keep that up I’m not giving you squat.” 
“Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am,” they say at the same time. 
You shake your head, snorting at the father and daughter duo. Both of them were ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. 
However, you can’t seem to stop smiling as you head inside to get them a container to put the slices into. 
412 notes · View notes
aka-indulgence · 3 months
Text
Man of the Hour
Decided to make a lil snippet of that J&H idea…
Dr. Sans Aster has been gone for a concerning amount of time, so you decide to pay him a visit (only because you’re a good neighbour.) Instead, you see a face you hadn’t hoped to meet.
——————
It was a miserable night. You tuck your coat tighter around you as you approach the Aster Manor. It looks so welcoming during the day, but at night… it looks haunted, almost. You wonder how Sans likes living here.
It’s been a while since you’ve seen the good doctor. Usually you take a detour to or from the morning market, passing by his residence, and calling up to him in his room on the 2nd floor. After a few times, usually you’d be greeted by the window opening and the skeleton leaning out. Sometimes he’d appear from his labroom window, after an overnight bout of unknown experiments. (The monster kept much to himself, and in a roundabout way instead made him more popular.) For the past few days, however, the window has remained shut, and you haven’t heard any sound of activity from the upper floors.
You would’ve asked others but after a conversation with a friend,
“You talk about Sans a lot. Do you have a thing for him?”
You’ve decided against making your infatuation with the doctor too obvious.
Nevertheless, your morning conversations with him has been a comforting consistency that you miss severely. You’ve tried ignoring it, but today you caved. After another morning of no response, you decided to visit the abode after sundown- if the doctor was busy during the day, surely he’d be resting by now?
You walk up to the dimly lit door and reach for the knocker.
Thunk
Thunk
Thunk
 … You didn’t have to wait long before you hear what sounds like smart shoes approaching the door on the other side. You get excited, gripping your coat.
But when the door opens, it isn’t Sans that answers the door.
A deer monster looks at you, his outfit that of a formal servant’s.
“Yes?”
You try not to show your disappointment. But surely… this didn’t mean Sans was absent.
“Good evening, sir… I’m sorry to have bothered you this late at night, but, is Dr. Sans home?”
“Dr. Aster?”
You mentally smack your face- you can’t seem too intimate with him. Your friends would tease you while other people would think you’re being disrespectful.
“I’m sorry, miss. The doctor has been away from home for three days now.”
“Th… three?” Concern floods your voice. “Did- did he tell you where he went?”
“I’m afraid not. The doctor goes on many excursions, often without telling his servants. Just last month he traveled for a week before returning.”
“A week…?”
“He returned every morning. But he informed us only to look for him if he’s been gone for more than a month.”
A month?! That’s even worse than you thought!
He could disappear for a whole month…?
“What is he doing?”
“He does not tell us, miss.”
You frown. “So I assume he isn’t here tonight?”
“No. I’m sorry I could not be of more help to you,”
You sigh. “That’s alright. At least I know a bit more about what he’s doing. Thank you for the information.”
The deer monster bows and closes the door as you walk out of the yard.
You have a bad feeling about this. Not to mention the nasty rumors around town…
There was a new face in town. One unwelcomed by everyone. A man named Horruer just… appeared one day. You’ve never met the man, but you’ve heard nothing good about him. There were rumors of him having ties to Sans, though the story varied from person to person. Your friend believed in the rumor of him blackmailing the doctor.
“He has servants and a house, and I think Dr. Aster funds him..? That sounds highly suspicious to me.”
She said he had a frightening appearance, but hard to describe. Just that he was also a skeleton monster. Some people thought he might be an estranged family member. You don’t know what Sans has to say about it all, though. You hoped Sans was safe, that he didn’t owe the man any favors.
You were deep in your thoughts. Missing his smile, how his soft eyelights would glow when he laughed during the few times you met the doctor out of home, drinking tea together. He was such a smart man… a conversationist, liked by all. His topics were engaging, and he was surprisingly humorful.
Would it be too hopeful to imagine him liking you back..?
Distracted, you don’t register the large body in front of you, and crash into a wall of a man, and stumble forwards.
Before you could mutter apologies, the man starts snarling, a primal sound.
“idiot- don’t you use your eyes when you-?!”
You startle, standing at attention after you turn around. What you see isn’t a face, but a chest. You swallow before you bring your eyes up to see… a new, but known face.
A big red eye is looking down at you. You watch the pupil in its center shrink into a pinprick, edges sharpening. You’re frozen under his stare- despite never having seen him, it’s obvious who this stranger was.
Mr. Horruer.
He was maybe twice your size, in height and width. Almost as big as the large front doors of Sans’ manor. His shoulders were broad, and so was his chest. He was built like a fortress of bones. Though he wore proper clothing, he didn’t look the part. His outer coat was unbuttoned and lopsided. His waistcoat covered more, but the top and middle were unbuttoned. His tie was undone, draped under his collar. His coat didn’t seem old, but it was crinkled.
His teeth was jagged- you aren’t sure if they were sharp canines or if they were simply messy. His eyesockets were mismatched, unlike Sans’. One socket housed the large red orb that peered down at you, while the other was dead, devoid of light. Your eyes trailed up to his head, seeing something peek out of his hat…
The monster gasped, teeth becoming set as he holds it down, covering whatever it was. You flinched- you weren’t thinking. You’ve heard that Mr. Horruer was neurotic about never being seen without his hat. You heard of Mr. Enfield having a rough bump with the skeleton and almost knocking his hat off- the altercation almost turned violent.
You felt your fingers grow cold. The man was more terrifying than what you’ve heard the townsfolk have said. You’ve met many monsters in this town but Horruer was truly monstrous. Just looking at him made your spine tingle unpleasantly, like there was instinctual in you that told you this man was dangerous.
You hear a crack, and see his bony hands turned to fists beside him, and his breathing grow louder, every breath causing his upper body to rise and fall. His teeth was still set, and his eye hadn’t moved.
Your body screamed- you were in danger.
“I-I’m so sorry. I di-didn’t see anything. So sorry, Mr. Horruer,” you stuttered, taking a few frightful paces back before you turned on your heel and ran home.
It was crass, clumsy, impolite, and frankly, unladylike. But you didn’t want to know what Horruer could do with his hands, and you didn’t want to find out if the rumors of his aberrant ‘hobbies’ were true or not.
He looked like he was itching to kill me.
You felt something red burning a hole into your back as you fled.
…….
“... (y/n).”
269 notes · View notes
siddhigirls · 7 months
Text
it’s just my job
pairing: josh hutcherson x afab!reader
warnings: very aggressive degrading, choking, and lots of sex
Tumblr media
you worked for one of the biggest mafias in russia. your ex boyfriend pulled you into the lifestyle, although you guys dated, he went behind the mafias back and did some dirty work against you guys… that’s why he’s an ex boyfriend, he’s dead. you were often praised for your hard work and dedication towards the mafia, the head mafia, leo, was so in love with you. he bought you everything you’ve ever wanted, he protected you, and put you in charge of everyone and everything.
leo gave you a new job to work on, you had to spy on your rivals and get some information from one of the members. you’ve been working on this for a couple of months and since you’ve kept your identity so hidden nobody knew you were in one of the most notorious mafias in the entire world. you don’t really have family or friends, everyone you talk to was in your mafia and you mostly talked to leo. now it’s hard to ignore the fact that you and leo had a secret relationship, you guys fuck almost every night and god he’s good at it. you were driving to your next location, pulling over to check your most recent text from the person you’ve been spying on, josh. josh is one of the rival mafia members, he knows quite a lot of information for you to tell leo.
josh was a stupid american adult man, he sees a hot woman and you gave him the thought that you would give him a chance and he immediately is going crazy for you. you were currently in the streets of L.A waiting for the text for you to leave the car and go inside his house. you looked outside in the palm trees and the bright sun, you don’t have this in russia. you get the text from him telling you to come inside. you open the door letting yourself in and taking off your shoes, you smell food from his living room. you see him waiting for you standing with a row of food waiting on his dining table, your heart melts a little, despite him being so fucking dumb you liked his quirkiness.
“i got this for you!!” he pointed at the food on the table and went up to you to give you a big bear hug but his perverted mind he just wanted to feel your boobs against his chest. you sat down and you acted like nothing was going on and just kept on talking to him, while you guys were talking he talked a lot about his brothers and the mafia, and you were just recording every single thing he was saying. time passed by so quick you didn’t even realize it was already 1:30 A.M, you got up and you looked at your phone, you decided it was time to leave.
“no no y/n please don’t leave i’m not done hanging out with you.” you giggled at how clueless he is but he walked you to the door, giving you one last bear hug, he tried leaning in for a kiss, you kissed him back and feeling absolute fucking amazing, without a single thought in the world, you just pushed him against the wall and started taking off his shirt, breathlessly taking your lips off his. you guys were kissing going into the living room, you pushed him on the couch and he was staring into your eyes as he was looking up at you, you felt so fucking weak.
“i am so fucking obsessed with you y/n, i just want to fucking ruin you.” he says darkly, unbuttoning your jeans and pulling your pants down with your victoria’s secret underwear. he kissed your stomach all the way down to your pussy, he got up and pushed you against the nearest wall and got down on his knees again, he spread your legs, taking your left leg and hiked it up and let you rest it on his back.
he pushed your underwear to the side seeing your wet slick, he ran his fingers through your clit coating it, he looked up into your eyes making intense dark eye contact as he licked your clit, you threw your head back in pleasure as you pulled his hair, “if you look away again y/n you’ll fucking regret it, look at me” he says grabbing your neck forcing you to look at him. he was sucking your clit inserting his index finger in your tight cunt. you keep letting out pornographic moans that echo through the loft not breaking eye contact once, it was hard for you to not look away. leo would be so mad that you were basically selling your body to another man.
he added 2 more fingers which caused you to arch your back and groan in pain, you looked away which caused him to take his mouth off your wet pussy and taking his fingers out making you feel empty. he got up while your legs were wobbling. he gripped your neck and slammed you against the wall, he got to your ear and started whispering little nothings into your ear like “you’re one of the most beautiful woman i’ve ever laid my eyes on” and “i just wanna destroy you in the worst way possible.”
he pulls away from you and going to his side table pulling out a camera, he presses record, since you were so fucking drunk from pleasure you didn’t even realize what he was doing. “look at this slut, didn’t think i would find out” he said taking off his joggers to reveal his lengthy dick, he took off your white shirt along with your bra watching your boobs bounce, the camera paneling towards his dick entering your tight pussy, “this is what happens to sluts when they think they’re getting information when in reality they’re the ones getting fucked.” fuck. you were panicking but you just couldn’t bring yourself to push him off of you, he was fucking you so good that leo can’t even compare.
“she sabotaged herself into thinking that she can runaway with this fucking information, stupid whore.” he panels the camera in your hopeless face, the the makeup running down. “tell me that my cock is the best you’ve ever had you whore.” he says, “please..” you moaned, “fucking say it or else i’ll personally send this to leo so he can see how much of a whore you are, you think i wouldn’t find out? i’ve been watching you for years, he can watch his girl get fucked and cum continuously if you don’t wanna fucking say it.” he says blackmailing you, “it’s the best i’ve ever had please” you said as he keeps thrusting in and out of you
“listen bitch, im gonna fuck you and you aren’t going to tell a single fucking soul about what i told you, if you did i will tell leo about how much his bitch girlfriend loves his rivals cock” he says grabbing your neck as you felt yourself getting closer, you squeezed yourself around him as you felt his strokes getting slower and slower, “i need to cum please let me cum” you begged, “let it out baby” he says pressing harder around your neck, you cum as you felt air not entering your body, he switched the camera down to his dick seeing your cum around his dick and he got deeper into you and came deep into your pussy.
he pulled out showing the camera closer footage of your pussy leaking from his seed. he switched the camera to your face and exchanging a nasty kiss, spitting into your mouth, you looked into his eyes and swallowed his spit, “good girl.” he muttered as he turned off the camera.
302 notes · View notes
brucewaynehater101 · 1 month
Note
Do you think after BruceQuest the bat kids + Oracle and Alfred (maybe or maybe not Batman)
all but blatantly cut contact with the Justice League?
Even if Batman forgives them for leaving him for dead even with all the evidence in front of them, they've still shown themselves wildly unreliable to even their own members
Unless the Justice League forces themselves into a Bat's conflict or other situation or the bats genuinely have no other option
Bats lean towards each other for help, next best thing is Young Justice or other heroes of their generation, and as last resorts, mercenaries or villains, maybe even ex-LOA members
The Justice league (including Batman if he sticks with em) are the last last resort and are the last people to learn of Bat-involved incidents, if at all
Maybe rogues outside of Ra's learns what BruceQuest was, how it ruined Red Robin's reputation irreparably and uses it to annihilate the League's PR by showing the truth to the world?
I know Mr Lex Luthor would lap that shit up
Especially if Batman is still on good terms yet Red Robin is still dealing with the aftermath years later
Everyone is pulling their hair out because Lex is doing an objectively good thing for the wrong reason and when his villainy is toppled again—
Red Robin isn't going to live his life like his repaired reputation is gonna last
Ooh. How would the Bats react to the JL post BruceQuest?
Cass, Steph, Duke, and Jason do not have a relationship or rely on the JL. Jason probably is already upset at the JL for a variety of reasons. All that would change if the batfam is Team Tim would be those batkids being colder to the JL. Maybe they also pull off pranks.
In the end, those Batkids would be the equivalent of hearing your sibling talking about their toxic workplace and hating those fuckers (who you rarely see/interact with) on principle.
For Damian? It's a toss-up. It depends on how he views Tim and the JL. If Damian wants to become Batman, he might see the JL as a necessary step for that. He might need to have several conversations with various family members and his friends (like Colin and Jon) to understand his own position and thoughts on the JL.
For Babs, I hc she helped them a lot with their systems and other work. She probably feels guilty about Tim (not believing/supporting him and his traumatizing trip he did alone). If she was also on Team Tim, she would pass all system management to Vic and maintain a slightly frosty professional distance from them. Her Birds of Prey would become aware that she helps them, but she only assists the JL in dire circumstances.
Dick would have mixed feelings about it. He kind of told other heroes that Tim wasn't to be trusted and that he was having a mental breakdown due to grief. Now, what they did with that information is not Dick's fault. They should have supported the teenager and understood that Dick was also crumbling under his grief/responsibilities. So, Dick feels conflicted. He wants to make it up to Tim, though, and probably maintains a more professional distance from JL.
Alfred is also guilty of not being there for Tim when he needed help and care. However, I like to imagine he makes very pointed comments at JL members when they visit for their direct actions in that situation.
I do think that the batkids join together to mutually say "fuck you" to the JL, but in their own ways.
Batman/Bruce is iffy. On one hand, people like to use the BruceQuest as Bruce's kick in the pants to be a better father. On the other hand, he does his whole Batman Inc shit and is in Gotham less. So, it depends on how you picture him dealing with that trauma and his relationships with his family. If he's doing the less local Batman stuff, then he's probably more with the JL (and thus not on his kids' side).
The Lex Luthor theory you have going on? Brilliant 👏
128 notes · View notes
madschiavelique · 6 months
Text
˖𓍯. 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐬. ★. ₊ ⭑
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
⟢﹒ pairing : matt murdock x audhd!reader x frank castle
⟢﹒ summary : your family is an ordeal to endure, full of disparaging remarks that make for a horrible evening. fortunately, Matt and Frank come to keep you company during the family diner and take you home to look after you.
⟢﹒ content warnings : hurt/comfort, extremely self-indulgent, reader's family are degrading, audhd reader close to breaking down, reader having sensory issues, reader getting overstimulated, the guys in this are so lovable and sweet boyfriends, afab!reader, no use of Y/N
⟢﹒ word count : 9,3k
⟢﹒ note : had quite a shitty christmas ngl, so i thought writing this piece of comfort would be helpful ! if you only want to read the comfort part, i'll place a separation by using a black divider between the hurt and comfort part. a huge thank you to my bestie @sunflowersandsapphires who proofread this <3. have a good read lovelies!
Tumblr media
You passed a q-tip close to your eyes in the hope of correcting the curve of your make-up, trying with that scatterbrained perfectionism that accompanied you in even the most minute tasks to ensure that everything was symmetrical.
Nothing too extravagant, just something elegant, neutral, but that would do. The standard was just to look presentable, from the face to the rest of the body. Jeans, an oversized hoodie, nothing special.
This lack of personal distinction was undoubtedly due to the rejection of perception, the insistent stares, the embarrassing compliments that could suddenly put you in the spotlight tonight, an idea that made you feel profoundly uneasy.
You stepped back a little, checking to see if the much-desired symmetry had been achieved, and no sooner had you put down your utensil than you were asked to do the little cousins' make-up.
Tonight was an annual family reunion: Christmas, where aunts, uncles, grandparents and grandchildren got together over foie gras, salmon and dubious discussions. Where guests who have just left are criticised, where disparaging remarks are exchanged, and where the meal always ends up drifting into politics with more or less heated debates at the table.
You anticipated the evening, an anxious knot already forming in your stomach. You had a particular link with your family, of which the affection was strangely displayed if at all in a way you despised entirely. Every year was a different pain, a different bitter taste that lingered in your thoughts like poison, and you were not delighted to participate in this celebration when you would’ve preferred staying home.
Only one thing held you in place and convinced you that the night wouldn't be a constant and unrelenting hell: Matt and Frank were coming over.
This winter, it was the first time you would’ve been accompanied by them, and by anyone in fact. Knowing the rather strong opinions of your family, the simple idea of saying that you shared your life with two men in a more than platonic way had been dismissed a long time ago. A trouple? If that fell in the ears of one of your family members, you could be sure that you'd become the next freak of the night.
So you talked it over with the boys and came up with a plan to make sure you could bring them both along and not make a big deal of it: one of them would pretend to be your boyfriend, while the other would just be your friend that had nothing better to do for the celebration.
The choice of boyfriend fell on Frank, and friend on Matt.
He had asked why, and you had explained that it was obviously in no way because of favouritism or anything of the sort, but rather the simple fact that he would get more compliments behind his back if he wasn't with you than if he was. 
He'd frowned, but you'd had to explain to them how your family was sometimes built on clusters of shrill gossip, talking behind others' backs and later making remarks to their faces in tones of passive aggressiveness and wicked irony.
You also had to educate them, that no matter what was said about you tonight, not to react. They'd probably be itching to, it would be like a thread sticking out, but they were forbidden to pull on it.
You looked at the clock, seven past. You'd texted Frank to ask where they were and when they'd arrive. Eight thirty had been their reply, and you took a deep breath. An hour and a half to go.
You looked at yourself in the mirror, assuring yourself everything was alright and that you were presentable enough. You can do it, you kept telling yourself, this night knows an end.
The first complications arose sooner than you thought. 
First of all, you'd managed to find a decent seat in an armchair and not on a sofa. However, this seat was very close to the fireplace, where a blazing fire licked the brown logs with appetite. Very close, too close, close enough that it felt suffocating. 
You moved your chair back slightly as best you could, trying not to disturb the conversation that was already well underway.
You tried to take a few snacks, perhaps some cashews, crackers or cherry tomatoes might ease your boredom and distract you from the growing heat.
You pulled out your phone, hoping that Frank and Matt would get here sooner, and would've sent a message to that effect. Or perhaps was there a notification from any of your friends, a reel, a meme, anything-
"Put your phone away, we're with the family."
You looked up, your mother watching you and taking her glass in hand with a look of dissatisfaction. In a single instant, your cheeks heat up all the more as the fire in the fireplace presses against your skin, and you gulped.
"I just wanted to check if I had any news about Matt and Frank's drive," you explained simply, gently stuffing the phone into your pocket.
"They'll arrive when they arrive, but for now, be with us."
You nodded, discreetly biting your cheek as one of your only escapes for tonight went up in smoke. You would have much preferred to be able to escape a little and block out what was going on around you, even sorting out your gallery and deleting useless pictures would have been a more pleasant and less stressful activity.
But you couldn't, and you said nothing when it was your mother's turn to pick up her own phone and connect to the speaker to play her Christmas playlist. 
The children played together, which should’ve been a joy, but their overexcited screams, incessant movements and all that noise were enough to make you feel the headache setting in.
There were easily three different conversations going on around you, and your mother turned up the music in response. You waved, putting your hand in front of you as if you were lazily dribbling an invisible ball to indicate her to lower the volume, and she turned the music down a notch.
You clenched your jaw, thinking to yourself that this was a good start, even if everything else was getting harder to hold on to.
Choosing to wear a hoodie became almost a regret as the ambient heat from the fireplace worked its way up your spine to the nape of your neck, creating an unpleasant feeling. Soon enough, you had to take it all off as the first signs of nausea began to make themselves felt.
You weren't particularly comfortable with the idea, but everyone's attention was obviously diverted enough to take no notice of your actions. Except perhaps for one.
"You could have made an effort on your outfit, it's not very festive." Your mother sighed before taking a sip from her glass of champagne. "Hadn't you lost weight? It would be a shame to spoil the occasion."
You swallowed, the ground looking awfully interesting at this very moment. You knew what would have been said to you if you'd worn something more in the spirit of it, "You've got a nice body, you should wear that more often," and other remarks falling into the famous "you should insert-disobliging-action more often" category.
You should wear that more often. You should smile more often. You should come more often. But none of these requests were of the taste to be fulfilled by you tonight.
So you simply shrugged, having nothing in particular to say, and feeling your heart clench. You were stuck in this contradictory place where if you made one move slightly changing from your usual self to them, you were reprimanded on it, but if you didn’t do anything in particular, they highlighted the fact that it was disappointing you hadn’t done anything.
"Well, we're delighted to have you with us tonight!" chuckled an uncle, raising his glass to you.
"It sure makes a change from knowing she's in her cave," chuckles an aunt.
You smile, but there's no warmth behind the gesture. By cave, they mean your bedroom. Your habit of isolating yourself had brought you a certain reputation within your family, and for years now it has been a recurring joke. They laughed about it every time, but you saw it more as a broken record replaying the same snippet of music... speaking of which, your mother turned up the sound again, thinking you wouldn't notice.
"Could you turn it down please? It's really loud." you ask politely, in the most calm, composed and polite tone you could produce at the moment.
"Oh come on," your mother grumbles, rolling her eyes, "we're allowed to have fun."
She turned up the volume once more, and finally someone other than you told her it was too loud. Reluctantly, she lowered the sound slightly, but it was still not enough for you. Your hands lodge over your ears, hoping with all your heart that this would ease the strain on your eardrums.
Conversations sought to drown out the music, each member pushing their voice for any discussion. Kids were still running around, chasing one another by screaming at each other, and adjusting your eyes on anything without the certainty of getting a headache felt like mission impossible. 
Your hands on your ears helped slightly, and it was only then that your mother looked at you with a surprised expression.
"Does it really hurt?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.
"Yes," you nodded, "it really does."
Finally, she turned it down, and you exhaled as the others resumed a more appropriate though still higher volume of discussion than you'd prefer. The kids had been changed of room, making it more bearable for you to live through. 
"So, what have you been up to lately?" asks one of your grandparents, "how's work?"
Your cheeks heat up, the discussion now turned towards you, prompting you to take your glass in hand just to have something to quench your throat suddenly arid as the sahara.
"Very well, business is good." you smiled falsely, forcing your face to display the features they might normally expect to see.
"Great, and those two guests coming tonight, do you know them from work?"
How could you say that the circumstances in which you had met these two men were in a situation that included Frank and Matt falling into your flat, bloodied, and asking you for help? 
Karen, who you’d known through college, had advised them of your address, and when the first opportunity came up, they had taken the chance to make the most exceptional introduction you'd ever had in your life : stumbling at your place with cuts all around
"In a way, yes," you replied, pressing your lips into a thin line.
"One of them's her boyfriend, and the other's a lawyer," your mother informed the others, who seemed delighted by your seemingly noble company.
It's a good thing the flames in the fireplace were dying down and that it wasn't so hot anymore, because both your cheeks felt like you were resting the back of your hand on hot embers. It was a never-ending embarrassment to have such behaviour around you, saying aloud everything regarding you without you consenting to any information to be given. Wherever ridiculous actions or the slightest subject that was even a little new and out of their boredom-inducing daily lives occurred, they swarmed.
Nevertheless, the conversation drifted away to your delight, and at the mention of your loves, you couldn't stop thinking about them. You would have liked to check the time, to see if they had any problems on the way that might have delayed them, but you knew that such conduct was likely to earn you an additional remark about the use of your telephone. After all, she could find openings as easily as water in a colander.
Just then, a dance song began to play which, objectively, had nothing to do with the Christmas spirit. So everyone stood up, moving the chairs to get more room, and you helped in this cacophony of moved furniture. 
You stood to one side as everyone got to the centre of the room, their dance steps resembling a veritable collective epileptic seizure of which you had no desire to become another member.
You took the opportunity to take refuge in the bathroom, carefully closing the door behind you and sitting down on the toilet to take a deep breath. The after-effects of all these mixed sensations were beginning to make themselves known.
Your body was as taut as a bowstring, as if every muscle had contracted from a high fall, and it felt as if releasing all the tension would break you in thousands of small pieces. Your heart wasn't beating particularly fast, but it was beating hard, and you couldn't ignore it.
You took a deep breath, letting your head fall back as you closed your eyes. Your throat and chest were tight, so tight that you felt like crying right now. But you couldn't, it would be too noticeable once you got out of here, and you didn't want to give them the pleasure of having an extra subject to talk about at the end of the evening once you'd gone. It would do them too much honour, and you couldn't afford to give them any.
You were so tired, you couldn't take it any more, the fatigue coursing through your body like you'd run a marathon of shame. You breathed in again, feeling your previously tight chest slowly relax as your body was jolting a bit from the unease.
This wouldn't last forever. By the end of the evening, after dessert, you wouldn't be in this house surrounded by all these people, all these eyes, all these mouths, all this noise.
That's when your phone buzzed, and without missing a beat, you pulled it out of your pocket. On the screen was a single message from Frank that gave you tremendous reassurance:
We're here.
You bit your lip, nodding slowly. One last breath for courage and you stood up, opening the door of the bathroom. Without anyone noticing, you grabbed your hoodie and stepped outside into the cool of the night.
The sudden chill brought you unparalleled comfort, biting your cheeks hot with frustration and embarrassment. Perhaps the night would heal you, that its cool caress would apply its balm of softness to all that pressure and relieve you of your tension.
You turned your key ring to find the one for the gate a little further on, trying to walk and not sprint to it. Inserting the key almost frantically but controlling your excitement and relief at their presence, you opened the game.
And there they were, smiling at you.
"Evening sweetheart," Frank smiled when he saw you.
"Sorry we took so long," Matt apologised, pressing his lips together.
You looked behind you to make sure no one had followed you outside, closing the gate slightly so that you wouldn't be seen. You knew that even from here, your group of three could be seen as a pile of meat around which the vultures would circle, and you didn't want to risk being their next meal.
You hugged them both, relieved to have them close to you, and the suddenness and desperation in your gesture almost seemed to surprise them. They hugged you back, kissing your temple.
"Your cheeks are warm," Frank chuckled, pressing his face harder against yours, making you giggle.
"Is everything okay?" asked Matt, stroking your hair, "you're all tense."
Of course, Matt noticing every microscopic detail as usual, couldn't help but pick up on how stiff your body looked, and how the smell of stress covered your skin in the thinnest film. There was no point in lying to Matt, or pretending to divert the subject with Frank, so you sighed.
"Lots of noise, not much serenity," you replied, letting your head fall against the devil's chest.
You were trying to cherish all this a little more, because once you were back in the house, you and Matt wouldn't be able to touch each other again except perhaps to pass a plate across the table and let your fingers deliberately brush against each other.
They'd already been told by you what to expect, and even if they were prepared, they were sorry to find you like this.
"We won't stay here the whole night," Matt reassures as he wraps his arms around you, stroking your back. "Let's hope we get out of here before Frank goes so far as to take the silverware from the table and threaten anyone with the butter knife."
"You're ruining my fun, Red. Now I've got to find something more inventive," sighed the latter.
"Take the star at the top of the pine tree, it'll be sharp enough," you suggested, turning your head towards him, cheek still pressed against Matt's chest. 
"See that, that's Christmas spirit," smiled Frank.
You loosened your embrace, Matt gently kissing your lips. He savoured the moment, and so did you, because this kind of proximity with him wasn't going to happen again for several hours. 
"Ready?" asked Frank, letting his pointer finger form a hook to caress the skin of your cheek.
You looked at the lights further away from the house, hearing the music from here and already preparing in the second part of the night.
"Ready," you breathed in before reopening the gate and letting them through.
You felt your heart clench again, the unpleasant tingle of anxiety coursing through your veins in a fluid traffic that seemed impossible to dilute. You tried to breathe calmly, preparing yourself once again to face the suffocating interior of sounds, movements and remarks.
"Remember, if you need to take a break from all this and go outside, squeeze my hand three times, okay sweetheart ?" reminded Frank, placing his hand on the small of your back.
"Yeah," you swallowed, nodding softly as a tight little smile spread across your lips.
You'd agreed to pretend, in case things got desperate and you needed a break, that Frank was a smoker, and that you and Matt shared his ciggy break together.
All of this preparation had come from the fact your mother had passed an entire questioning about your boyfriend - or at least one of them - to prepare herself conventionally. You knew how she was, and such coaching with the guys was for the better.
Still, his hand on your back was reassuring, and made things easier to bear.
You opened the door, and everyone turned to you with a big "Ah" of satisfaction. Introductions were made as both took off their jackets. Frank remained friendly but guarded - as usual, typical Frank - and Matt seemed to bloom in this social environment like a freshly blossomed flower.
It didn't take long for most of your family to decide that they loved Matt. His well-timed humour, his natural charm, his eloquence, everything about him made him a man to be admired.
"Isn't there any way he could be your boyfriend instead?" said an aunt, approaching you as Matt and Frank continued to be introduced.
"He's way out of her league," sneered another, "they both are, actually."
You pressed your lips together, blowing falsely from your nose to feign amusement. You knew Matt could hear every little jab at you tonight, and if he was feeling any frustration, he was hiding it perfectly.
"Where did you get them? I want one too," said the first, making the other laugh.
"Might get the lawyer's phone number," she replied.
"Yours is very fine too," remarked the other, "how'd you manage to get him ?"
They both said these sentences as if their own husbands weren't in the room, and as if the possibility of you being in a relationship with one of them was a miracle, or just a huge stroke of luck.
"Through work," you replied mechanically and through clenched teeth before moving into the kitchen to help with the dishes.
You knew these sorts of remarks were to be brought up, on how you’d managed to surround yourself so well. Matt and Frank had long wondered how your confidence in yourself was so low, but maybe tonight would’ve been the perfect example as to why it was the case.
The transition to the table was almost seamless. Everyone sat down, the seating order meticulously adapted for everyone. Fortunately, you found yourself between Frank and Matt. You were inwardly grateful for the choice of decorations when you realised that the tablecloth was quite long, and that the reassuring hand Matt had just put on your thigh wouldn't be noticeable.
You breathed softly, the warmth of his hand anchoring you better in all of this and giving you something to focus on that was sweeter than any mean remarks.
Of course, with every new person around the table comes an interrogation to get to know them. Questions of all kinds followed for the boys, about their work, their activities, your aunts of course looking for answers as to how you and Frank had ended up together.
You'd worked it out and decided that Matt had introduced you to Frank and that, through your shared tastes in literature and other things, you'd ended up bonding.
"If books are the new way to getting to a man I've got some reading to do," joked one of the aunts, making the table laugh unanimously, "never thought you'd manage anything of the sort."
The pique directed at you made you feel as if you were swallowing a large ice cube with difficulty, but you covered your discomfort with an expert fake smile. Masking all that discomfort since the start of the evening was beginning to prove complicated, but you weren't going to use the smoking-break Joker just yet.
You could see in the corners of your eyes how Matt was wearing a stiff smile, and how Frank's jaw was tense. Gently reaching under the table, you took both their hands, turning to Frank with another smile that this time wasn't imbued with the polite mask you wore, but with sincerity.
"Let's just say I was lucky " to have found two such extraordinary people who fill my life with love on a daily basis, would you have finished.
You squeezed their hands, drawing small circles on their skins as they both smiled.
The starter was over, the main course continued as your stomach was refusing to let you eat anything, and the whole thing brought together discussions that made you uncomfortable to say the least. All sorts of unconscious or simply cruel racist, homophobic and even transphobic remarks were placed on the table. 
You remained silent, not speaking particularly. You had no desire to take part in this kind of discussion, given how horrible the venom on each other's tongues was. You just hoped it would all be over soon, looking forward to going home with Frank and Matt.
The cousins were chatting away like fascists, one talking about Napoleon, and the old days being the best, while talking about the questionable politicians he was listening to on the radio. 
The cheese arrived, and then came the little break just before dessert. They put on a film for the children, so that the adults could have a quiet chat without all the heckling.
Hearing the parents' arse jokes, you'd think they'd be fucking each other on the table if they thought it was funny. You could very well let your own sassy tongue out, say that if this aunt isn't listening to what's being said already it's because she's working out her next gossip, but you have to forgive her because she wouldn't be like this if her husband wasn't cheating on her, or maybe he's cheating on her because she's like this. 
To tell the uncles that they're less likely to die from terrorism than from alcoholism, to tell one aunt to strap the kids up tight because her husband is going to be driving as if he had an autonomous car. And that you would’ve liked to finish by saying that no matter the smiles, the village fete, all it took was a small difference for everyone to see the real faces.
But you said nothing, keeping to yourself those comments that would only serve to fuel their hatred. 
As Frank came up to grab another drink, your mother sat next to you on the sofa while the two boys came to be monopolised by aunts and uncles. A procession of rednecks near Frank discussing his familiarity with weapons and his military past, while the aunts were wiggling around Matt hoping to curry favour with the young lawyer.
"It's too hot in here," you murmured as you shifted a little from your mother, but she wasn't letting go and placed her head on your shoulder.
"But I want to be close to you," she said with a pout, the alcohol making her visibly affectionate.
You tensed, the desire to get away from it all running through your body, screaming under your skin. But there was nothing you could do, frozen there in the middle of it all, having to endure the situation as best you could.
The familial conversation drifted onto the subject of intellectuality, on the fact that your family was made up of nothing else, or at least for the most part. And you felt tiny, because they were generally right: they were all huge readers of the classics, who knew a lot about history, literature, philosophy and other human sciences. 
All these subjects were familiar to you, because you had had to learn them, to master them in the face of the global family demand for the cultivation of excellence.
Even though you were the ugly duckling of the family, that didn't stop you sharing this knowledge and they were all aware of it. You were able to inject the conversation with valid arguments and insights you'd learned on your own that were important to the topic, and whenever the occasion to say something wise came up that you grasped, they seemed more tolerable to you.
When the discussion turned to the descendants of a painter, you were asked to verify the accuracy of certain statements. So you looked it up on your phone, but barely half a minute later, your mother couldn't resist reprimanding you:
"What did I tell you on your phone? Not when we're with the family."
Irritation from all the previous events of the evening was beginning to press down on you, and it was with some irritation that you replied: 
"But I've been asked for some information."
Your voice was almost like that of a child defending themselves against someone calling them a liar, and this tone seemed to displease her when her gaze hardened.
"Don't talk to me like that, and put your phone away."
You bit the inside of your cheek so hard it felt like it was going to bleed, and said nothing as you put your phone back in your pocket while the conversation around you resumed.
You didn't meet Frank's gaze, nor did you turn to Matt, because you knew that this simple gesture would show weakness and a cry for help. However, you had made them swear not to interfere, and you remained silent for a while, trying to calm yourself down as you watched the fire ripple in the fireplace like an orange veil dancing in the wind while you fiddled with your fingers.
The tic was automatic; Matt and Frank would have preferred to have taken your hand in theirs to prevent this torment. 
What irritated you most of all was the profound injustice of the whole evening. You wouldn’t say anything, and you’d be considered too silent so people would ask you questions, but once you opened your mouth they were not satisfied with your answers. You couldn’t take your own phone, when all the aunts had their own, texting to their friends and all. Children had the right to get away in another room and watch a movie, while you had to stick there doing nothing but listening to whatever was said.
You couldn’t wait for the night to come to an end.
It was time to store the presents everywhere and pretend to the children that Santa had stopped by while they were watching the movie. Everything was placed in colourful piles, and when the children were called, they ran down the stairs and began the frantic tearing of gift wrap to an orchestra of shrieks and shredding.
All the accumulated sounds made you grit your teeth, tightening your throat and making you want to cry. You could feel the limit coming, and you needed a break to prevent you from imploding.
This time you took Frank's hand and squeezed it three times. He turned to you immediately, stroking your cheek before telling Matt. As quickly as they could without looking rushed, they put on their jackets and went out after you.
The night air calmed some part of you instantly, the contrast between all the hectic ambiance inside and the calmness of the outside felt like two extreme opposite worlds living by the only separation of a door.
To make sure that even from the outside there would be no doubt about this cover, Frank had to play along by taking out a cigarette and lighting it. He seemed irritated, and the idea of that Joker card almost seemed to play a real asset in all this to calm him down.
"How the fuck do they sleep at night?" he grumbles as he puffs out his first drag, "it's like they take every opportunity they get to pull you down."
"It's alright, let it slide." you sigh, crossing your arms over your chest.
"No it's not," he continues, "I can't believe you managed to handle their company for all these years."
"Didn't have much of a choice," you breathe.
"I know you said it was bad, I just didn't imagine it was constantly so," Matt confirmed.
"If I go back there I might actually punch them in the face," Frank grumbles before taking another drag on the cigarette.
"All that's left is the presents from the adults, then the Yule log, and then we'll be off, okay?" reassured Matt, placing his hand gently on your shoulder.
The touch of his hand brought a comforting warmth, and his words managed to reassure you. You looked at them both, thinking about how it would’ve been without them : unbearable, definitely. You had barely been able to handle it before they came, but now that they were here, you felt safe, like half of the poison that was thrown at you was not as effective.
They had changed you, made you feel loved, cherished, proud. They had been trying to break these patterns, the self depreciation, the self sabotage, the lack of self confidence. They were helping you build yourself back up from the ruins everyone else had left, and you were the most grateful to the universe to had brought them in your life.
"Thank you both, for being here," you admitted, your voice almost cracking, the coolness of the night giving you a feeling of security that was enough to relax your knotted throat.
They turned towards you, their faces softening. They knew what you were going through, what you were enduring for the night, and how complicated and unpleasant it must have been until they arrived. 
Frank took you in his arms, the smell of tobacco already permeating his clothes. Matt must not have been enjoying it at all, smelling that darkly sugary, smoky smell all around him, but whatever personal discomfort he was experiencing he didn't let it show. 
"It's the least we can do, beautiful," he replied, stroking your back.
"We just wish we could shut their mouths," Matt agreed, holding back from participating in the embrace as you’d instructed him.
"And stop this whole group of women from praising you?" sneered Frank, which made you smile.
Matt's nose scrunched up and his bottom lip curled in disgust at the remark.
"One of them wanted to feed me appetisers, and another asked me about being blind and whether I'd mind being in a relationship with someone whose looks I can't see." he said with a sigh.
"And then?" asked Frank curiously as you both turned to face the lawyer.
"I told her that I didn't need to see to know who was good-looking, and that if I chose my relationships purely on looks, I wouldn't know true friendship or love."
"All those poetic words must have pleased her," Frank punctuated with a whistle.
"Not until I told her my grandmother wore the same perfume as her."
You and Frank both laughed softly, truly impressed at how Matt was handling all this flirting and cringe from several women altogether. 
But this calm moment had to have an end, as the cigarette grew smaller and smaller by the minute. Frank broke away from your embrace to finish it and stubbed it out on the wall.
This little outing had done you a world of good. The cool night air had refreshed you, its delicate silence giving you a break from all the noise and the terrible comments from your family all the while Frank and Matt allowed you this break from constant barbs.
You returned again inside, the end of the opening of presents for the children welcoming you. And so the opening of those for the adults began, all the parcels being stored on the table in more chic and sober wrappings. The grandparents started, Frank standing behind you with one hand on your shoulder and the other holding his glass of champagne.
One by one, they all opened their presents, until it was your turn. Embarrassment gripped your body as all eyes were on you, and you dreaded the opening simply by being watched with boredom mixed with curiosity - to see how you might react and make the slightest faux pas.
You went about it slowly, wishing to unpack properly and not act like a barbarian tearing everything apart at once. Your aunt beside you imitated a yawn at the fact that you were making them wait, and everyone laughed, a tense little smile nailed to your cheeks.
What you got in the end wasn't too bad, nor too far from what you could appreciate, surprisingly. Of course, you had to force yourself to smile at most of the useless gifts that gave you absolutely no pleasure, but you thanked everyone, and the presentation of gifts moved on to the next ones.
"Didn't you get her anything?" your mother asked the boys.
"Her presents are at my place," Frank informed her.
The sentence made your heart spike up, a sudden warmth colouring your chest in pink softness as the sparkles of it brought the tingling sensation of tears at the corners of your eyes. Presents, they had gotten you presents. 
You were not going to cry, of course not, but the lump formed in your throat gave you enough of a hard time that you had to grab your drink and sip on it.
"Speaking of your place, have you looked at the traffic to get home?" questioned Matt, "I don't think I want to take too long."
"I'll have a look," he said, taking his hand off your shoulder to pick up his phone.
You wondered if Matt had had enough, if his own senses had been overwhelmed by all of this and he was pondering on going home. But then realised what they were doing : feigning traffic disruption in order to get home early and save yourself a lot of awful time.
"I think we're going to have to go," Frank nodded as he put his phone away. "Sweetheart? Ready?" he asked, bending over so that his chest pressed against your back.
"Yes," you said as you took a big breath and stood up, saying goodbye to the whole family.
You dreaded the hugs, the kisses on the cheeks or simply the fact of pressing them together and imitating the sound of what should have been a fake smooch, but with a surge of tiredness you objected to this using the excuse of " time is running out".
In no time at all, Matt and Frank had gathered up all your things and were carrying them, heading for the entrance hall to collect theirs.
Tumblr media
In less time than it takes to say it, you were finally outside, walking up to the gate. You felt as if your lungs were being squeezed as you went along, almost expecting to feel a rope being pulled tight inside you to tie you to the house, for someone to come out and catch you or whatever. You felt almost like a gnat trying to escape from the spider's web in which it had been stuck a little too long.
You stuck the key in the lock of the gate, turned it hastily, then opened it to let them go with you, closing the big opaque metal door with that step. The pressure hadn't gone away from your body yet, every limb feeling like it was made of thick, rough foam where multiple needles had pierced you in the many crevices they'd already left and were digging even deeper. 
You looked for the car in the hope of getting to it as quickly as possible, but you let out a little squeal of surprise when your feet flew off the ground as Frank swept you up in his arms like a princess.
"Ain't no way you're gonna walk, you've had enough exhaustion for the night," he said, tightening his grip on your back and the back of your knees.
"But-" you began reflexively, although the idea of giving up this position didn't bring you any comfort.
"Ah ah," he stopped, "don't wanna hear about it." If he had his two hands free and was being childish, he would have put them over his ears, singing la la la and pretending not to hear anything.
But his hands were firmly under you, giving you all the security you could have dreamed of and the beginnings of a comfort that would last all evening until you'd sleep.
"Circus night is over," Matt huffed, taking a deep breath, "I think I've heard enough nonsense for one year."
"Lucky for you, next one's less than a week away," sneered Frank.
"I'd rather lose a second sense than inflict this on myself and our angel a second time," the demon replied as he grabbed the car keys from Frank's pocket and opened it.
He opened one of the rear doors, letting Frank gently place you in and strap you in place, placing a kiss on your forehead as he stepped aside to let Matt pass and place the few bags in the boot.
Matt sat down beside you, and you let your head fall on his shoulder. You felt the tingles of anxiety under your skin lodge in your legs and squeeze your chest, the rush to get out of here weighing heavily on your head.
Frank sat in the front seat, turning the car key and making it purr, then drove off. 
As the car rounded the corner, all the tension began to dissipate and you let the breath you'd been holding in escape from your chest. Your whole body felt heavy, your hands gloved with marble, your legs booted with lead and your head stuffed with cotton.
You felt the softness of Matt's lips as he placed a kiss on your forehead, his hand coming to rest on your thigh as you hummed under the sweetness of his comfort.
"It's all over now," he said, resting his chin on your head, "we're going to take care of you."
You snuggle up to him, your hand coming to rest on his as you breathe softly. Your fingers drew soft, formless patterns on the back of his hand, fighting the fatigue that had fallen on you like an anvil.
The moment was sweet, Matt's warmth through his clothes spreading close to you as you turned his hand onto his back to gently trace the lines from his palm up to his callused fingers. 
"I'd have to get rid of some of them," grunted Frank, who clearly hadn't yet calmed his frustration, "I'm sure they'd be much better off in an asylum."
"It's an insane asylum, not an asshole asylum," Matt remarked, "you'd have to build asshole asylums but... you can imagine the size of the buildings."
"Yeah, still, maybe I should have burnt my cigarette on one of their cars."
"What a nice Christmas present," chuckled Matt.
"I can be generous sometimes," confirmed Frank.
"Especially when you threaten people," you agreed.
"A pittance," Matt snickered, "Is that one of my sweaters by the way ?
"Yes," you sigh, "I'll have you know it's been criticised tonight."
"Really? By whom."
"I'll let you guess."
"A bit bold coming from someone dressed like Norman Bates who dresses like his mother," Frank grumbled.
You laughed softly, a sort of little venting session taking place in the car like a debriefing following a bizarre situation.
"With all those women around, Red's charm knows no bounds," laughed Frank, "you've caught the eye of one in particular it seems."
"My aunt? She's suffering from too much oestrogen. If you're interested, I can put you in touch," you grinned.
" I'd rather sleep on cotton sheets." grunts Matt as his hand grabs your thigh and squeezes a little tighter, letting a small chirp of amusement escape from between your lips.
The ride continued, and your stomach went all hollow, grumbling with displeasure at the emptiness you'd left it.
"Didn't eat much, did you ?" asked Matt softly.
"Barely touched her plate," confirmed Frank at the front.
"Didn't feel like it," you murmured.
"Is there anything you'd like when you get home?" proposed the demon, interlacing his fingers with yours.
"Something sweet," you hummed, adjusting your chin to rest it on his shoulder.
"Anything else?"
"Two pairs of arms around me," you smiled.
They both grinned, and the ride went by in a flash. You untied yourself once you'd arrived, stretching slightly as you shifted to open the door beside you, but Matt's hand from your thigh came to grab your hip and pull you back to him in a gesture that seemed immensely easy.
You turned to face him, confused for a moment, as he kissed your cheek.
"No walking, remember?" he smiled as Frank opened his car door to come towards yours.
You sigh, shaking your head slightly as you roll your eyes. They were overdoing it, but you weren't going to stop them. 
"Come here princess," Frank said as he pulled your hips towards him to take you in his arms again.
You wrapped your hands around the back of his nape, nestling your face in his neck and smelling his subtle cologne on his warm skin.
Matt took the bags and went ahead to open the door for you. The familiar smell of your real home seemed to wash all your worries from your body as you took a simple breath.
The bags were deposited in the hallway, Frank walking over to the sofa to set you down.
"Stay right there and don't move," he informed, hands on either side of you as he kissed you softly.
"What happens if I move ?" you asked, placing one of your hands on his arms.
"I'll tie you up like a pretty present," he chuckled as he kissed you again, "the most perfect present we'd ever have."
"Is that a threat or a promise?" you teased, your foreheads pressed together.
"It's a statement," he concluded.
He straightened up, and you were already missing his presence near you, but you respected his request - or rather his order - and remained seated on the sofa. Your head fell back, your body moulding itself to the shape of the couch under the effect of the evening's emotional turmoil. The tension drained away more and more, relaxing your tired muscles and making you yawn. 
It wasn't long before Matt and Frank returned with more casual outfits and packages in their hands. You straightened up, bending your knees on the sofa about to get up, but remembering the fact that walking wasn't a possibility, you explained: 
"I've got some for you too, am I allowed to go and get them?"
"For us?" said a surprised Frank, pointing at himself as if there was some mistake.
"You mean the packages under the first step of the stairs?" questioned Matt, "I thought those were packages you forgot about for the others."
"No, these are for you," you confirmed as you sat back down on your knees on the sofa.
They stood like that, one blinking repeatedly while the other kept his lips parted.
"You really didn't have to-" Matt began, but you stopped him immediately.
"Tsk tsk, if I don't have the right to stand up, you don't have the right to stop me from giving you presents."
"But-" resumed Frank.
"Ah ah," you smiled in the same tone he'd given you earlier, "don't wanna hear about it."
He parted his lips in a smile but said nothing as Matt laughed softly to the side. They approached you, Frank placing the packages on the coffee table as Matt turned away.
"I'll get them," he eventually says, heading for the top step, cracking it open and pulling out three packages to take back to the coffee table.
"The medium one is for you," you say, pushing the first one towards Frank, "and the big and small one are for you," the two boxes sliding across the smooth table towards Matt.
The packets seemed a particularly complex conundrum to them, but you urged them to open their presents.
Matt opened his and discovered a 7kg weighted blanket and an anti-stress ring that could be twirled on his finger.
"I know you sometimes ask me or Frank to lie on top of you because the weight makes you feel better, so I got you this, which should help if neither of us is ever there to give you what you want. As for the ring, I know that times at the Court can be stressful, so I thought it might help you find a point of anchorage." 
Matt seemed at a loss for words, taking the duvet between his fingers and touching the silk sheet you'd wrapped it in. Putting the ring on his index finger, which fit perfectly, he smiled to himself.
As for Frank, he removed the wrapping and his lips parted.
"I've been looking for these for months," he said, looking at the few books he'd been talking about over and over again. "How did you... ?"
You'd scoured countless bookshops, searched book repositories, researched the clearance of certain titles by libraries to find these books that had all but disappeared very quickly while the work was being republished and retranslated.
"A good girlfriend never reveals her secrets," you smiled.
The two of them placed their gifts on the table and came to embrace you, nestling their faces in the crooks of your neck. They held you close, gently kissing your skin between hushed "thank you's", dotting your neck and face with soft pecks.
"What did we do to deserve you," Frank murmured, pulling back slightly.
"I could ask the same about you both," you smiled, running your fingers through their hair.
They kissed you again, then handed you their own gift. You opened it, and it was something you'd talked about several times before, something that was very close to your heart and that they'd decided to give you. This time it was your turn to hug them, and they laughed as you showered their faces with kisses.
"What do you say to a nice bath, and then some dessert before bed?" offered Matt.
"I think that's the best idea of the evening," you confirmed, caressing his cheek and kissing his nose.
Without further ado, Frank took you in his arms like a koala, letting your legs cross behind him as you pressed your cheek against his shoulder. He led you and Matt into the bathroom, the devil bending over the tub to prepare the bath.
Frank lifted you slightly and sat you down on the wash basin counter, letting his hands fall on both your thighs and stroking them gently.
"As much as I love your makeup, we're gonna have to remove it sweetheart", he explained, kissing your cheek.
So mechanically, you grabbed your make-up remover, ready to start the process. But Frank stopped you in your tracks, gently taking the bottle in one hand and a cotton pad in the other.
He poured a small amount onto the white disc, dosing as you did regularly.
"Close your pretty eyes for me," he murmured, taking your chin between his fingers and starting to remove your make-up.
Frank had this charming habit, in the evenings when you were getting ready for bed and he wasn't out playing vigilante, of watching you remove your make-up. He knew a lot about your day by the way you went about it: slow and thoughtful was the result of a good day, faster and more jerky obviously reflected one full of frustration, and sometimes when your movements were slow and your eyes half-closed, it generally meant that the day had been very, very long.
He concentrated, pressing tenderly against your skin as he removed iridescent, matte and mascara from your eyelids, occasionally pausing to kiss your lips, making you smile and giggle softly with each peck.
You almost wanted to put lipstick on his lips and let him kiss your whole face until the red of your cheeks was indistinguishable from the colour of the lipstick.
He asked you to look up this time to clear away the mascara smears and the black marks left in their path. He was doing this with the utmost precision, and this personal attention sent tickles all the way to the back of your skull.
"Look at me?" he asked and you complied, a smirk forming on his lips. "The prettiest girl."
He came over and placed a strand of hair behind your ear before stepping aside to throw away the little cotton disc.
"I'm gonna go and check what snacks we have, Red? I'll leave you my favourite part, but only because it's christmas alright?" he informed before kissing the tip of your nose one last time and stepping out of the bathroom.
Matt, so far checking the temperature of the bath water to make sure it was correct, shook off his damp fingers and wiped them on a towel before standing up and moving between your legs.
"I'll have you stand up just for a bit," he cautioned, taking your hands and pulling you slightly towards him to get you to your feet. "Arms up."
At his request, you raised your arms. His hands pinched the bottom of your hoodie and pulled it up your body. He laid it to one side, continuing with your t-shirt, his fingers still warm from the water sliding delicately against your skin.
"So that's Frank's favourite part?" you smiled, "undressing me?
"I have to say it is," he stated as he unbuttoned your trousers and panties, sliding them to the floor where you lifted your feet to get out of them.
"And what's your favourite part?" you asked as he took off your socks and raised up to your level.
"The one that's about to happen."
He guided you to the bath and let you slide in gently. The temperature was perfect, just as you liked it, and you let out a moan of ease from between your lips until most of your body was submerged in the bath.
Matt took a stool from the bathroom and placed it beside you, taking a cup at the same time to pour water over your hair. He applied himself with great care, taking his time to make sure no drops got into your eyes.
Your muscles relaxed naturally with the heat, finally eradicating the tension in your body once and for all.
You felt Matt's fingers dip into the bath water, sliding up from the skin of your thigh and gently up your body, tracing your silhouette under the water.
"You're beautiful," he whispers as his wet fingers rose from the water to caress your cheek.
"How could you know?" you asked softly, watching as he stared into the emptiness.
"My hands don't lie to me, and I know the beauty of the mind at first sight of the heart" he smiled as he took your bottle of shampoo, pouring some into his palm before massaging your head.
To help him, you straightened up, pivoting slightly to get your back to him. His fingers snaked through your hair, massaging gently and lathering everything up slowly. He worked the back of your neck, muscles tense, letting your head go with the movement of his hands.
With your neck now leaning back, Matt smiled gently before kissing your forehead.
"That's my favourite part," he confirmed, resuming the massage.
You let your eyes close, surrendering to the gentleness of the moment and Matt's touch. He was pressing, caressing, painting with his fingers as if he were holding the most beautiful and delicate material in his hands. 
Too soon for your liking - because you would have preferred this moment to have no end - he rinsed your hair, letting the white mousse spread over your shoulders and applying it lightly to your skin. He took the sponge, soaking it in shower gel before squeezing it into a foam so that he could spread the bubbly cloud over your skin.
He took one of your arms, raising it so that he could get it straight and soap you up properly, and he kissed the length of your skin before the softness of his kisses was erased by the little soap bubbles that the sponge left in its wake. He did the same for your second arm, and your leg, and the second after that, covering your whole body with kisses and softness.
At first you thought it was unfair, because no sooner had he placed a kiss on your skin than he wiped it away with white foam. But you were soon comforted by the idea that these weren't kisses being chased away, but kisses being kept, kisses that seeped under your skin and brought you all the warmth that the bath was beginning to no longer contain.
Before the water got too cold, he gently rinsed you off and got you out of the tub, wrapping you in your bathrobe.
Frank came back into the bathroom at last, bringing clean, more comfortable clothes in his hands. They both took their time drying your hair and dressing you, whispering sweet nothings to you as they kissed your cheeks and temples.
Each kiss washed away the stress you'd been feeling, replacing bitterness with sweetness, and you relished every moment of it.
Once again they carried you in their arms to the sofa, where Frank had placed a plethora of foodstuffs of all kinds on the table, snacks and other sweet products that you might have wanted at the time.
You watched several episodes of a series that you'd been watching together lately, commenting on it and falsely - or actually - taking offence at the particularly stupid choices made by the main characters.
You didn't need any more than that. All the love in the world was with them.
They had taught you how one hand changes when you put it on top of another, that another world is possible but is present in this one, that there is always a dream asleep.
They were standing on your eyelids, and their hair was in yours, they were engulfed in your shadow. Their eyes were always open, they wouldn't let you sleep, their kisses in the light made the sun evaporate.
Back pressed against the chest of one, face hidden in the nape of the other's neck, tonight you fell asleep, fulfilled, safe and loved.
298 notes · View notes
soopibean · 5 months
Text
SEVENTEEN VS DISPATCH
This is how Seventeen would react to seeing a dispatch reporter following them.
Disclaimer!! As we all know, dispatch is a questionable entity and obviously the members of seventeen wouldn't react in this way. HOWEVER this is just meant for fun so don't take it too seriously.
Warnings: Mentions of cultish activities, Jeonghan is a scary man, reporter may like coups a little too much. Kidnapping?
Scoups
He angrily rants at the reporter, aggressively telling them what he'll do if he sees them here or around his members again. (Papa coups)
The reporter is left feeling a mixture of fear and arousal. Doesn't return either way.
Jeonghan
They're not watching him, he's watching them.
After a few days of following him they begin to realise he's visiting places they frequent. Restaurants they eat at, even the school they went to... But the most terrifying is when they realise at the end of the day, Jeonghan drove right to their house.
The reporter bursts through his front door to find Jeonghan eating a meal with his own wife and kids, a sinister smile played on his lips.
The reporter quits his job the next day and leaves the country.
Joshua
Simply gives them a gracious smile as he approaches them, offers a firm handshake as he begins his indoctrination. He doesn't see 'dispatch', he sees lost souls perfect for his cause.
The reporters are easy to convince.
Jun
Hasn't noticed. Assumed they were the trash collectors so he personally hands them his bin bags when he sees them. This was a good opportunity for them to snoop, though after opening them, all they find are bags full of scrunched up paper. It's all completely blank.
The reporters are left confused and empty handed.
Hoshi
'Horanghaes' in their direction whenever he see them, asks them to do it back. If they don't he becomes very upset.
The reporters now do it on impulse in most situations... They've become the laughing stock of the office.
Wonwoo
Notices them immediately. Convinced it's the government. Goes into hiding and starts wearing a tinfoil hat.
The reporters receive a bonus for capturing a photo of Wonwoo in said hat.
Woozi
They wait outside his studio for weeks. The blinds are always pulled, the lights are always on but no sign of life is seen. They finally leave but as they do, they miss the chance to see the wild Woozi emerging from the building, hissing at the sun and passing out from dehydration.
The reporters wasted everybody's time and are swiftly demoted.
DK
Greets them like old friends, asks about their families, brings them coffee on occasion. Even if they did find something they could report, they could never bring themselves to betray him.
The reporters become his personal protectors.
Mingyu
Immediately thinks they've caught him in a dating scandal. They follow him as he leaves the dorm late at night dressed perfectly in an expensive suit. He arrives at the restaurant, greeting somebody with a hug... It's Jungkook.
The reporters get sued by HYBE.
The8
Starts filming and taking pictures of them out of spite. Glares in disapproval at any given opportunity.
The reporters end every day feeling judged and self conscious.
Seungkwan
DRAMA QUEEN. Acts annoyed but is actually flattered. Begins to create his own fake scandals.
'O-oh I didn't see you there, I was just talking on the phone to my- oh I shouldn't have said that'
Struts off giggling, looking back every few seconds in hopes they'll follow.
The reporters decide to leave him to it.
Vernon
Does. Not. Care. Completely devoid of emotion when it comes to them. Simply stares blankly and unblinking in their direction.
The reporters are left feeling insignificant. They do little tricks to try to impress him. It doesn't work.
Dino
After watching him get left behind by the entire group on a beach trip they were having, the reporter offers him a ride home out of pity. Dino doesn't question the man and happily accepts, just grateful to have some company on his birthday. After hearing this the reporter couldn't bring himself to turn in any of the information he had gotten.
The reporter goes home and hugs his son.
However, if Dino had waited a few more minutes, he would have seen Seventeen returning with a birthday cake adorned with candles. Though upon seeing their youngest member missing and witnesses claiming he left in a suspicious vehicle, they are now convinced he had been kidnapped.
Thus chaos ensues... But that's a story for another time ;)
166 notes · View notes
bloofinntoona · 1 year
Text
Baby's Breath
Word Count: 1.4k
Themes: Fluff, a little bit of angst? Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader (Reader's house can be up to you!)
Summary: (SPOILER FOR HOGWARTS LEGACY ENDING) You're asking Sebastian Sallow who will he take to the Yule Ball.
Author's Note: So... This is my first fanfic(after a while). I played Hogwarts Legacy and I love Sebastian's questline and his story. I'd thought I wrote a little bit of a story after the main HL story. Based on the marriage question???? scene from the first Avatar movie.
Tumblr media
A year has passed since the massive battle with Ranrok, as well as the murder of Solomon Sallow. You, Anne, and Ominis had decided to not turn Sebastian in. The weight of killing his own family member was tormenting enough for the teen, there was absolutely no need of putting him behind bars at Azkaban. Despite the darkness that has been brewing inside Sebastian, his friends still have much love for him. Especially you.
You didn't think much of it at first. Why, Sebastian Sallow was notorious for being the Slytherin bad boy. Dodging detentions here and there, and persistently asking his schoolmates to duel in his not-so-unsanctioned-secret-dueling club. One would think that this boy was a menace. But you know that he was more than that. Sebastian was smart, curious, relentless, outgoing, kind, cunning, and obviously as ambitious as a Slytherin could be. As if the boy couldn't be more perfect, he has the most beautiful hazel eyes you've ever seen. You particularly noticed the tiny freckles that adorned his face — you swear you could see constellations if you connected the dots.
Getting back to your relationship before the incidents was not easy. Ominis and Anne took their time to make small talk and joke around with Sebastian. You, on the other hand, shared a kinship. You also wielded the unforgivable curses with him. You often found yourself between Sebastian's arms, finding consolation from the responsibilities of being the so-called Hogwarts Hero who possessed the Ancient Magic. There was also a time when Sebastian broke down in your arms, feeling guilty for being too absored in the Dark Arts. Nevertheless, time is the best healer as you both were able to cope and live somewhat normally in school.
After all that you both have been through, there was never a point where you confessed to each other. Yes, you hugged and comforted each other. You swore you felt him kissed your forehead once. Perhaps it's the archaic rule of courting in the 19th century that your guardians had been drilling into your brain. Or perhaps you're just too scared of being rejected and loosing the closest friend in your life.
⁂✲*⁂✲*⁂
You shifted your feet back and forth, hearing the snow rustling underneath your platform shoes. Merlin's beard, you thought, where in the world is Sebastian? Saying that it's freezing in Hogsmeade is an understatement. The wind blew past your ears as you cursed yourself for putting your hair in an updo today. You jumped as you felt hands tickled your sides, "Hey!" you shouted, turning around. Sebastian grinned, "Sorry, 'had to pick up something earlier." He patted your head, which prompted a red blush spreading across your face. "Shall we?" He offered his hand as you head into The Three Broomsticks. Nothing like a full glass of Butterbeer can make you feel better, especially with Sebastian as your company. This is how you both liked to spend the weekends after a tedious week full of classes and homework. The outing almost ended with You and Sebastian racing on the broom, cruising over the lake until you both reached the rickety docks in Lower Hogsfield, looking over the school.
"That was a good race. Obviously, I was here first." The boy puffed his chest.
You rolled your eyes, "Sure, consider yourself lucky that we're alone 'cause I literally landed first!"
Sebastian and you playfully bantered, pushing each others' broom. He accidentally pushed a bit too hard which sent you flying back. "Oop-!" you yelped as you felt his swift hands caught your back and pulled you close to him. Too close. You felt your chest pressed against Sebastian. Godrick's Heart, did he grow taller? You also swore he was not this strong and muscular before. Puberty years did work wonders for teen boys. Feeling his warm breath against your face, you started to panic and gently pushed him away. You swore you could see a hint of disappointment in his face.
"So," you cleared your throat, "The Yule ball is coming soon. I, uh, heard that you're supposed to look for your own date." You paced around the dock, afraid to look at Sebastian. "Have you thought about who you're going to ask?" You bitterly questioned him. A part of you was a bit disappointed that Sebastian didn't ask you when the ball was announced. You'd expect him to take you, even as friends. The thoughts of Sebastian secretly having a crush without telling you made your guts churn. It's not like other boys haven't asked either, Garreth Weasley was very sweet, offering an enhanced (his words) Wiggenweld potion warped in a bow with an invitation to the ball. You were flattered, but you thought there wasn't a point of going without the boy you actually had a crush on.
"I thought about it." Sebastian calmly said, using his wand to cast Levioso, levitating a rock and flung it to the lake.
"Oh..." you gulped. "May I know who?" You wanted to slap yourself for asking, why would you want to hear answers that will hurt? You still have your back facing Sebastian.
"Guess!" and there's Sebastian Sallow, never making it easy for you.
You used your wand to flung some pebbles into the water. "Well, Imelda Reyes is an amazing flyer. I bet you learned a flying trick or two from her," You smiled bitterly, "Plus, you both are in the same house, so I bet you're close with her?"
You could hear his laugh. "No way, I'm not keen on being ridiculed by Imelda." Sebastian flung more rocks into the water.
"I guess Natty is a good option too. She's brilliant, probably the kindest person I've ever met-"
"What about me?" Sebastian joked, "I'm also kind."
You rolled your eyes. "Also she has a professor as a parent, like you."
"It's not Natty, too... Gryffindor for me," He shook his head, "Don't get me wrong, Natty's a good friend. But she's just a friend for me."
"What about Poppy? She's the cutest girl in school. I think her passion for the beasts is amazing too." You chimed.
Sebastian shook his head again. "Nope, not her."
You raked your brain, thinking about the rest of your schoolmates. You didn't even notice Sebastian's footsteps inching closer to you.
"Ominis?" you blurted out, now facing Sebastian. Hearing your question, he made a face and blurted out an explosive laugh. "I mean I would, but he probably would kill me first," he wiped a tear from his eyes, "no, not my dear friend Ominis Gaunt."
"I give up!" You held up your hands, "I don't know who you have in mind."
Sebastian lets out a sigh. "There is this girl," he stood close to you, "She is beautiful, brave, and possesses an ability like no other. She's always eager to beat me in duels and learn new things. This girl is always there for me, through thick and thin. Even though I was a sodding disappointment of a mate, she still greets me with a warm smile. I don't think I could be here right now without her."
Your breath hitched, feeling warmth crept around your face. Sebastian's face is turning red as well. He took your hands in his, caressing your fingers softly. You can feel your body heating up despite the cold air. "I'm glad you came to Hogwarts. Having you in my life was the best present the universe gave me." He reached inside his pocket and presented you with a corsage decorated with baby's breath and baby blue ribbon. "I was going to give it to you tomorrow. But since we're having this conversation..." He smiled, face red as ever, "Will you go to the ball with me-"
Sebastian didn't get to finish his sentence before you crashed your lips against him. You could feel electricity sparked all over your body, butterflies flying all over your stomach. It seemed like forever, feeling his soft lips molded with yours. His hands rested on your waist, gently pulling you closer. You snaked your hands around his neck, entangling your fingers in his brown locks.
You broke the kiss, resting your forehead against his. "I'd take that as a yes?" Sebastian whispered. You nod, couldn't get a word out of your mouth. He smiled, peppering small kisses on your cheeks before capturing your lips for another kiss.
He pulled back, took your hand, and wrapped the corsage around your wrist. "You know, I had to do a bunch of tasks to have Professor Garlick help me grow this flower." He chuckles, admiring how the flowers looked on you.
"Sebastian.. I-" You grinned widely, "Thank you. I would love to go to the ball with you." You couldn't help but to wrap your arms around him again. "Why baby's breath?"
"Well, darling, they said it's the symbol of everlasting love."
⁂✲*⁂✲*⁂
913 notes · View notes