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#I usually give up when I'm not immediately good at things but I really stuck to my guns on this one
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𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐛 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
↳ notes: lars content yay! as far as i can tell, i'm one of the few to do anything on him, so i hope there's more than ten people out there interested in him
↳ warnings: none
↳ song: she blinded me with science—thomas dolby
masterlist | commissions | carrd
• This guy is a snacker
• Take one look at him. You can't tell me that he doesn't constantly skip out on meals in favor of research, usually just pulling a granola bar or stained tupperware from his desk drawer to eat while he works
• Don't get me wrong, Lars can still devour a good bit of food. Sometimes you like to make fun of him for how much good he'll get on his face in the process
• "You're looking at me weird." He frowned at you one day from behind the rims of his glasses
• "Uh, yeah. Wonder why." You grin with mild surprise, watching as leftover rice and beans from the burrito in his hands stuck to the corners of his mouth like glue. He was quick to wipe it all off, ignoring you as you laughed at him
• Aside from that, Lars usually keeps his workplace pretty clean. It's cluttered, sure, but you don't think you've ever seen him wonder where something went. He just always knew where things were. It was like he had a system in his head, and the more you thought about it, the more you decided he definitely did
• The one time someone had even tried to clean his place up, you watched as he immediately jumped in, convincing them that they were needed elsewhere and sending them off before they could mess with his set-up
• Often times, when it's just the two of you alone in the offsight lab, you'll bounce a tennis ball off the wall while Lars types away, only ever looking up to squint at you when the ball gets to close to his head
• "You should really give that to the possesor. I'm sure it'd appreciate it." He hums to you at one point while spinning around in his chair to reach something. Behind you, you hear the unmistakable sound of a metal chair tapping excitedly on glass, and you make a tsking noise
• "Pretty sure you just want me to stop distracting you with my awesome skills." You boast, attempting to do a trickshot only to smack Lars in the back. He glares at you, and you inch backward with a nervous chuckle
• "You know what, I think I'll give it to the possesor."
• "What a brilliant idea." Lars says monotonely. You were quick to get rid of the ball
• He hums while he works!
• It's not anything discernable. In fact, most of the time he isn't even singing real songs. Just little tunes he'll make up on the spot for himself; often as a way to pass the time and make minute tasks fly by
• You notice it quite a lot, but don't really say anything. It's quite entertaining, if you're being truthful
• "Sittin' and waitin' for food. Sittin' and waitin' for food.." He'd improvised once while waiting yet again for a t.v dinner of his to finish its cycle in the labs shared microwave
• "Wow Lars. Voice of an angel, you have."
• "Stuff it."
• Lars doesn't often need help with his work, there's a reason he landed the job after all, but when he does, you're always the first person he goes to. It's a side effect of having spent so much time with you at work, and even outside of it—if you counted lunch breaks and independent experiments as a non-work environment
• He likes being able to get a fresh set of eyes on whatever's stumping him, and it usually doesn't take long for the two of you to work around whatever was holding him up
• Overall, you couldn't think of a better friend/co-worker to have, and the same applies for Lars. Your relationship will only strengthen as time goes on, even withstanding the bizzar experiences that Garraka eventually brings later that year
• But that's for much later. Right now, the two of you are content to sit in the aquarium-turned-headquarters, watching as the hours ticked by without a care in the world
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kell-stitches · 1 year
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In honor of my new side blog, I wanted to share something with everyone. This was actually the very first TAD embroidery I ever made, but never posted. This was the design that started it all and I actually revisited it in this piece earlier this year. It's incredible to me to see where I started and where I'm at now, however, you can also see why I quickly gave up on stitching the lyrics because OOF
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crishayle · 4 months
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Astrology notes
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Reminder. When reading, take into account your entire natal chart.Thank you for the feedback⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
People with the Moon conjunction/trine/sextile Jupiter are very friendly. I will not say that they immediately seem cute at first impression (you need to watch the ascendant for this), but in further communication with them you feel their charisma and friendliness.It's very cozy with them!
I often discuss with people their natal chart and their complaints, and I noticed that people with Mercury square/opposition ascendant have certain features in terms of mind. For example, memory problems, or good long-term, but poor short-term memory, it is difficult for them to concentrate on several things at once, or on the contrary, they lack perseverance, it is difficult for them to assimilate new information. Their mind is not weak, just different from the usual one.Or I observe problems with speech (stuttering, burr, lisp, unusual accent)
Selena in the 3rd house, Mercury conjunct Venus/Mars, Venus in the 3rd house have very pleasant voices. Their voices are velvety, most often modal (chest)
Have you noticed how during the scorpio season all astrologers wrote posts on the topic of sex? It's all scorpio's vibe𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑
I read on one forum that the combination of the ascendant in Leo and the Sun/Venus in the 1st house gives a bright and sexy appearance. I'm not sure about sexuality, but their appearance is really very beautiful and unusual!
People with Lilith in the 4th house are more likely than others to think about moving to another city/country, and just to another place. In a change of environment, they can feel out of their comfort zone and self-development. If Lilith is amazed, then the person will want to move because of personal beliefs (most often because of politics)
It seems to me that the most important and cardinal thoughts come to our minds when transit houses return to natal houses (for example, the Sun in the 3rd house in the natal chart and the transit Sun in the 3rd house).It's like a personal new year in my head.You sum up your results, plan, create different options for the future. Ideas may come up that you haven't thought about before. Physically, nothing new is happening, the usual routine (home and study/work), but in a person's head there are huge independent (!!!) changes
Guys, whose strongest planet in the natal chart is the Moon, do you also f*cking feel every full moon and new moon?
People with the Moon in the 1st house, the ascendant in Cancer, the Moon in Cancer/4th house, the Sun in the 4th house need personal space. They can be very sociable and energetic, but they need at least 15 minutes of silence to distract themselves and be alone
Retrograde natal planets can be compared to a splinter that is stuck deep under the skin and you can't see where it can be pulled out. It's difficult, but it's possible. Retrograde planets can also be made less problematic, but it will take a lot of effort
Some underestimate the influence of stellium, believing that the ascendant, the sun and the moon are enough to understand a person.As practice shows, most often this is not enough, especially when the stellium and the Big Three are different in temperament.Please consider your stelliums
Mars in Sagittarius can look athletic even if they don't do sports
If you see a person who reads the news about maniacs, murders and crime, then there is a 90% chance that he has placements in Scorpio/8th house
Most content makers have strong placements in Leo/Aquarius/5th house/11th house. I'm talking about people who have been blogging for a long time and professionally, as well as whose work is related to the media sphere
Mercury in Virgo/6th house has a lively mind in conversation. They argue well, they discuss well, they can turn your words against you.They may respond sharply, but in fact
Often we may be attracted to the creativity or personality of some famous person because of similar placements in the natal chart
On the astro-seek website, you can guess the Sun/Moon/ascendant of a person from a photo. According to statistics, people with Scorpio/Aquarius in the Big Three have the least guessed photos. Still, I agree that these are the most mysterious signs of the zodiac
According to Ceres in the natal chart, you can learn about the upbringing of a person (since this asteroid shows the connection between parents and a child).For example, Ceres in the 5th house indicates a creative child. He could come up with a lot of games, drew a lot, and behaved a little differently than other children. He could love to read or listen to fairy tales.Good imagination, but perceives visual information best
It seems to me that people with the Moon square/opposition Saturn/Uranus/Neptune/Pluto are more likely than other people to wind themselves up. These people perceive emotions, events, people deeply. They have high emotional intelligence, but it is often difficult for them to turn off their head and calm down from thoughts
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hyewka · 5 months
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Omg for your game beomgyu + hybrid ! Except he’s a bear hybrid since I don’t actually see it often despite him being a bear and though I love puppy hybrid gyu I want to see some bear gyu appreciation 😭🤭🤔
⭑ warnings; hybrid!au, switch!beomgyu, wolf!reader, mean femdom, dubcon, fwb, predator x prey, creampie, use of whore and bitch in demeaning ways, not proofread
⭑ send in a small prompt with the format of (member) + (nsfw prompt) and ill write you a small drabble!
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you don't exactly know what the dumb cub's obsession with you comes from. you've never looked at him different than any other predator, and yet he has this weird big crush on you. does he know what's good for him or do all preys really just lack critical thinking?
"you're pretty," he babbles in answer of your question as you purposefully clamp down on his itty bitty thing. all it really has is girth. as expected of a bear.
"no duh. but i'm not the prettiest wolf out there so again, why do you like me so much?"
your eyes shoot open when beomgyu unexpectantly starts bucking his hips into your cunt, without permission. who the hell does he think he is?! you're about to curse him out, but as you lose your composure the faster he humps into your heat, he starts talking again.
"but y-you're the prettiest to me."
it's embarrassing how much those words have an effect on you. the heat that rushes up your cheeks is embarrassing, all of it is embarrassing, you're the one who's supposed to have him blushing and yet the dumb cub is the one having you so flustered. you manage to recover, quickly collecting yourself. you huff, taking it upon yourself to hold his wrists together over his head then using your right hand to trail under his shirt, pinching his nipples. that ought to teach him.
"ow! fuck! that hurt!" he shrieks, tears shooting to water his eyes.
"ill do it again if you act out little grizzly, sit there pliant or ill rip your little teddy ears off." he looks angry, frowning at you with his bottom lip stuck out like the baby he is, but really who is he to act like this? you're the one riding him and exerting all the effort while he sits against a tree. he should be grateful that you aren't a bigger bitch.
he looks like he wants to say something, but he keeps it in as his frown transforms to ecstasy, mouth agape as his brows knit together and god, his facial expression really has you horny, hoping you could at least cum from this too.
then he rips it away from you. again.
"gonna cum, keep going you're sooogood at this--h-ha fuckkk"
you blink dumbfounded, does he really think you'll let his dirty litter in your belly? god what a dumbass.
almost immediately you stop and his glossy eyes fly open, he really looks like the most precious thing as he tries and fails to hump you. "no--no fuck!"
you tsk, letting go of his wrists and getting off his dick, dusting off your top. "hoped you'd last a little longer," you murmur pulling your panties up, indifferent to the fact that you just ruined an orgasm for him and he's squirming to try and get his high back with his hand. you could tell he's failing.
it's almost like a power trip leaving the bear on his ass, ruined to shreds against the tree, hiccuping and panting, legs still spread like a whore-- you're satisfied with your work if anything. so you didn't expect to be hurled with your back against the tree, everything going so fast and seemingly out of nowhere, the light switch terrifying with how dangerously close beomgyus face is to yours, with your wrists pinned.
"god you're such a bitch," he growls lowly, and you shiver, for the first time seeing his canines in a more predatory light. "want me to treat you like one? throw you around and give it to you rough like all the asshole predators?"
you don't let your weakness show, trying to bury down your fear. "let me go if you know what's good for you beomgyu." you warn trying to stare him down with the same intense look. it's not as effective as it usually is because he doesn't stop, tightening his hold.
"want me to use you as a body rag? thats what you want right? will that get you to treat me better than a fucking second class citizen? fuck your pussy and breed you with my cubs?"
with every word, it's like venom, your nose flaring, you're pissed. but yet the last bit stirs something deep in you, it's all confusing. why're you into this? you like toys you can control, not someone so unpredictable. who is he to think he could speak to you like that anyway? just because you haven't killed him the first chance you got and kept him around your circle he's acting out like he's better than you, like you've wronged him. you sneer at him.
"i could brush my knee against your dick and you'd buckle to your knees gyu, that's how weak you are. you wouldn't know a thing about fucking me like a bitch." you whisper, keeping the demeaning smile on your face, trying to ignore the feeling of his nails digging into your skin further and further, no doubt bruising.
you expect it, him attaching himself to you again. no matter how much you get a little mean, his lips still crash onto yours, rough and greedy and grossly passionate, like he's trying to convince you of something. it's different this time, he's not holding back, slipping his hand down your pants not wasting any time to rub at your clit, not waiting for any instructions and your body is reacting.
"so wet." he sighs into the feeling of your pussy, squeezing in a second, then a third. "what a whore."
he's fast, he's experienced with his fingers, he knows exactly what you like and it's all your fault for instructing him this entire time. he always had a glint to his eyes, like he'd snap and take you himself. and you guess today was his last straw.
"fuck, beomgyu, i-i'm gonna cum.." it's humiliating, but your pussy clenches around his slender fingers, and you could hear him whimpering, like this gets him off too. even when he's the one in control, he's still as desperate.
suddenly, like your warning is the call he's been waiting for, he turns you back to have your body against the tree, and you know he wants to go along his promise to breed you. suddenly you feel the emptiness of his fingers, and you're about to complain before he takes both your wrists in his hand, having them behind your back, his dick proding your entrance. "ready bitch?"
"beomgyu i swear if you cum inside of me-"
he doesn't listen, of course he doesn't. your tits bounce with each and every thrust and you just hope to the gods that nobody finds you like this. he's totally gone savage, trying to drill his cock deep into your pussy, whispering all sorts of filthy words. if everything before wasn't a big whiplash this was it.
even when you orgasm around his dick, he isn't satisfied. "beomgyu-fuck! stop please it h-hurts-"
"im not stopping until i have your tummy filled. ill make you have my babies." he says with so much conviction, his breath staggering.
"for the last time we can't breed dumb cub!" is what you wish you could say but all you're capable of with the mush state of your mind is intelligible moans. he's as fast and ruthless, playing with your tits when he can, not missing a second to kiss all over your neck.
you've lost to beomgyu of all people, how humiliating.
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note; I haven't read over this but hopefully it's okay, crossing my fingers 😭
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talesofesther · 1 year
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I guess that's love
Wednesday Addams x Reader
Summary: Wednesday sees herself stuck in the memory of one night; the night you almost died. She feels it's her fault, your blood on her hands says as much.
A/N: This is loosely based on Can't Pretend by Tom Odell and After Hours by The Weeknd which was suggested by the lovely @abelvrla. Also, I think it's valid to say that this story is mostly me having fun with some of my favorite tropes, so idk if this turned out kinda bad or similar to any of my other works; but I do hope you can enjoy it anyway. <3
Word count: 4,5k of feelings.
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It's red. All she sees is red.
It stains the white porcelain of the sink before going down the drain.
Blood never bothered Wednesday, one could say she enjoyed the sight of it.
Now, she's almost rubbing her hands raw. It's a hurried motion, she brushes the soap over her palm with urgency, clawing at her own skin under the running water; yet it's still there.
She feels a little nauseated. Maybe it's because her breathing is all over the place. Sometimes too fast; sometimes not fast enough, clogged up in her throat.
She washes. And washes. And… keeps washing. The skin of her hands becomes reddish. The blood — your blood — eventually, finally fades.
But does it really? Wednesday feels the stain to be permanent.
Looking down at her hands — her vision a little blurry but she doesn't think about that — she catches herself shaking. Her chest is impossibly tight, it hurts to feel the beating of her own heart.
How'd you do it? How'd you get her to dread your death?
She's disoriented when she exits the bathroom, not registering immediately where she is. The white walls of the hospital hurt her eyes.
It's been such a long night.
Is it still night?
The tie around Wednesday's neck seems to be choking her. She reaches her hands up to loosen it, but the feeling doesn't go away. She discards the garment altogether.
That's when she notices the blood stains on the cuffs of her white shirt. She curses under her breath. She wants to throw up. Or change out of these ruined clothes, but it feels like a waste of time.
"…nesday? Wednesday!"
She looks up upon hearing the calls of her name, only to see Principal Weems regarding her with evident worry. She's a little paler than usual, the night definitely hasn't been kind to her either.
There are only a few doctors walking around, some of them give Wednesday a strange look as they pass her by. A pungent smell of disinfectant hangs in the air. The sky outside the window bleeds in soft shades of dark purple and orange — the sun is already rising to a new day.
"You need to get checked out too, follow me." Weems reaches out to Wednesday's shoulder, trying to guide her to an empty room.
Wednesday ignores it, shrugging off the hand on her shoulder. "Where is she?"
Weems avoids her eyes then, sighing exasperatedly because she knows arguing will lead her nowhere; "she's being treated, we'll be able to see her soon."
"I want to see her now," Wednesday states, before walking past Larissa without even knowing which door she should go to.
"She's in surgery, miss Addams," Weems insists, finality in her tone. "We'll only make things worse going there now."
It's funny, how you've always told Wednesday she should put herself out there more, not be afraid to feel or let people close. Yet now you only prove her right in her reasoning that emotions only exist to torture people. Not in a good way.
But she did it anyway, didn't she?
She allowed herself to feel things.
Wednesday is frozen to the pristine tiles, her nails almost piercing her skin as she clenches her fists.
"I'm worried too, but all we can do now is wait," Weems softens once she notices the shaking of Wednesday's body. She takes a careful step closer to the girl, "if you don't want to see a doctor come back to the school with me, take a shower, put some clean clothes on. I'll drive you back when we're allowed to see her."
The warm water soothed Wednesday's muscles, it washed away the dried blood from her hair and the dirt clinging to her skin. It was relieving.
She's now standing in front of the bathroom mirror and the reflection staring back at her is not one she easily recognizes. Her skin looks paler than usual — if that's even possible — there are dark circles around her eyes and even she has to admit she looks exhausted.
Wednesday reaches a hand to touch her abdomen, nimble fingers tracing the spot that should be ripped open but isn't. Not even a scar remains; no telltales that she had been stabbed just a few hours ago.
She shivers at the thought. Death's cold embrace is a little more taunting when seen up close.
For a fleeting second, Wednesday catches herself planning to go to your room — as she usually did most nights before she pushed you away. She would sit beside you on your bed, her shoulder would brush yours and she'd comment about how you could even sleep in a bed this small, yet she wouldn't pull away. She'd talk with you about how good it felt to drive a knife into the old pilgrim's heart. Maybe she'd even tell you she had been scared. Maybe you'd try to hold her hand and she'd let you, gripping you tighter than she should.
Your comfort was Wednesday's most prized secret. You were her favorite broken rule.
The salty taste of a tear on her lips brings Wednesday back to reality. The reality where she doesn't have a single scar on her body and you're in a hospital bed fighting to stay alive.
She dries her cheeks harshly, turning around to put on her sweater and dark pants.
It's 6 PM when Principal Weems brings her back to the hospital and Wednesday is finally allowed into your room.
There's a stillness to it that she hates. You are too still. Several tubes are attached to your body as you lay on the hospital bed, there are bandages around your torso, some of them faintly tainted red. The machine that tracks your heartbeat is beeping in a lazy rhythm.
Wednesday doesn't dare breathe as she walks closer, stopping right beside you so she can cast over each scrape on your skin.
There was too much blood loss, Weems had told her moments ago. Wednesday knew that, she was the one who kept what was left of your blood inside your body until the ridiculously slow help finally arrived.
Weems also told her the bullet was short of doing major damage, and that despite now being weak, you were lucky and should wake up within a few days.
It does absolutely nothing to set Wednesday's heart at ease.
You're too still.
She can barely see your chest moving with the soft breathing. Your features are so serene, so emotionless. She could say you're dead if she didn't know any better.
Wednesday doesn't move for several moments, it's almost as if she's afraid to. She holds herself stiff at your side, glaring at you as if you'd wake up only to hear her scolding.
She hates that this is the first time she's been this close to you, in what? Two or three weeks?
It feels unfair, unfitting. Like it's all wrong.
But she can't complain. It's her fault.
A vain attempt at keeping you safe. Maybe it only made things worse;
"You know, as far as dates go, this is pretty creative," you told her, dodging fallen logs and rocks as you walked amongst the woods.
Wednesday turned back to look at you with an unreadable expression, "no one said this was a date."
"What would you call it then?"
"Investigating."
You groaned, falling into step beside Wednesday. Just so you could see the heavenly way the moonlight shaped her features. There was fog in the cold air, trees nothing but dark silhouettes around you; it suited her. "You're no fun."
"Flattery will get you nowhere," Wednesday felt your hand brushing hers. She hated how it made her focus waver. "Besides, you're the one who agreed to accompany me."
"Of course I did," you explained easily, "you asked me to."
Wednesday gulped, things felt more intimate than they should when the only witnesses around you are trees.
"Why was that?" You dared take hold of her hand then, your cold fingertips closing around her own. She stopped abruptly, and you observed the way her shoulders tensed. "You say you don't need anyone, yet here I am."
Wednesday's breath turned shallow, she didn't feel like looking at you. Because you were right, it was a break in her pattern; her rules.
How'd you do it? How'd you get her to break her rules?
You came to stand before her, your other hand taking hold of her free one so you could pull her closer. And she let you. Another step and any left space between you will vanish.
"Why won't you tell me?" You asked for what felt like the millionth time, but you didn't really hope for an answer.
You're familiar with her. She allows you close; you hold her hand, you touch her cheek, you braid her hair. Yet she never tells you why she allows you to do it.
Wednesday kept her eyes focused somewhere on your lips, counting the specks of color there, still as a corpse.
She saw the ghost of a smile that came to your lips before you leaned closer. And alarms were blaring inside her head, her lungs aching because of how she refused to breathe; yet she didn't move away.
You kissed her softly, gently. Your lips mapped hers in a way that felt like it always should've been.
And she melted against you, her hands clutching yous.
But as all things do, as Goody warned her time and time again; it didn't last. Shockwaves cursed through Wednesday's body and she was taken to another reality.
A reality where you were screaming her name in one second, and the next you were laying on the dirty ground, a pool of blood forming under you.
Wednesday jumped away from you the second she came back to herself, her eyes wide and breathing frantically as she strived to not pass out from what she'd just witnessed in her mind.
You were speaking, trying to reach out for her again as you asked what was wrong.
Wednesday felt her eyes sting, all she could see was your blood on her hands.
Her vision from that night came back in the form of nightmares for many nights after. Getting Wednesday to start dreading sleep.
She remembers warning you to never come near her again just before she sprinted away, leaving you alone in the woods with no further explanation. She avoided you, accepting the fact you might hate her, but it was okay because you'd be doing it alive.
All in vain, because her vision became a reality anyway.
"How could you be so stupid?" Wednesday tells you, but only the hospital walls hear it. "Jumping in front of me like that, it was ridiculous. Don't you see it? That's why you should've stayed away."
It's useless, you won't wake up to hear her complaints.
Wednesday exhales sharply and turns away from you, "it shouldn't have happened, I tried to-" There's a lump in her throat, it tangles her words, "but you're so stubborn… If you die before me, I'll kill you, I will-"
I don't know what I'll do. Wednesday thinks to herself. She sits on the chair that's beside your bed, watching through the window as the sun hides behind Jericho's mountains.
"You're missing your stupid sunset," Wednesday finds herself whispering. A last attempt at getting you to open your eyes, because for some reason, you liked to see the ending of sunny days.
Nothing happens. You remain still. The beeping tracking your heart rate is still slow. The room remains too quiet.
Wednesday leans back on her chair, she stays motionless for several minutes; until her hand eventually finds you.
Wednesday wraps her fingers around the pulse point on your wrist, not trusting the machine to tell her you're not dead yet.
She holds tightly onto you. There's no one around to witness it.
You didn't wake up for four days. And every day, without failure, Wednesday came to see you. She'd sit beside your bed and wait, sometimes silent, sometimes speaking as if you'd talk back to her.
It was her own way of keeping herself calm, busy.
Though the sleepless nights were starting to take a toll on her; sour mood and thinner patience being her new normal, along with the dark circles around her eyes.
Every time she closes her eyes, she's back there — warm blood on her hands and your life slipping from her grasp — so she refuses to do it.
Enid has seen her roommate nap hunched over her desk too many times to not get worried, but with being shut out every time she asked what she could do to help, she eventually stopped.
Wednesday could hate you for messing up her life.
She doesn't.
The day you woke up, Wednesday was nowhere to be seen.
All of your friends came to see you, overwhelming you with love and tales about how each of them missed a part of you in their lives.
You felt sore all over, as if you'd been hit by a truck — getting shot then staying unconscious in bed for days will do that to someone, you figured.
Enid was the one who stayed to accompany you back to school when you were discharged from the hospital, along with Principal Weems, of course.
"It feels like I'm learning to walk all over again," you groaned, one hand coming up to clutch at your abdomen as you got to your feet.
"Take it slow, we've got time," Enid kindly held a hand out for you, which you promptly took.
There are a million questions swimming in your mind, losing these many days from your life feels strange. You halted but the world didn't.
You asked the one that you first thought of when you woke up; "Enid," you stop walking so you can look into her eyes, "how is Wednesday? Did she got hurt?"
A complicated array of emotions pass through Enid's features, too fast for you to put your finger on any of them. She looks at you with something akin to sympathy; "she's… fine." Enid chews on her bottom lip, pondering whether she should tell you or not. Naturally, she can't hold back, "she hasn't left your bedside once."
You must have looked rather surprised, because Enid keeps going; "it's true, there wasn't a day that she didn't come to see you."
You don't know how you should feel. You think it's unhealthy for your heart to be beating as fast as it is right now after what you've just been through, but you can't get it to slow down, not when such a bomb is dropped on you.
Almost a month ago, Wednesday told you to never come near her again. Today, Enid tells you she's been by your side this whole time.
"Why?" You ask.
Enid doesn't know the answer.
It feels like a fever dream. Your bullet wound, the hospital visits, the remains of the fight. Everything. It feels like it didn't happen.
Because when you got back to Nevermore, everything was back to how it was. The damage to the school was repaired, classes were steadily going back to being routine, and Wednesday hasn't looked in your mere direction once — she, being the epitome of healthy coping mechanisms and dealing with feelings, avoids you like the plague.
You asked Enid to tell Wednesday that your door was open if she ever wished to talk.
Several days have gone by already and she hasn't taken you up on your offer.
You walk out of the cafeteria with a heavy heart and twirling an apple in your hand. You miss her. You hate how your days still feel hollow without Wednesday's presence on them, it's weird because she's not the type of person who usually makes her presence known; but you miss the weight of her shoulder resting against yours, the familiar comfortable silence you'd share when only enjoying each other's existence while reading.
It's a grey day outside. You see her before you see anything else when you walk into the quad. She has her back to you, black braids haphazardly done falling over her shoulders as she sits with Enid on one of the tables.
The werewolf notices you and waves you over, an encouraging smile on her lips. You give her a look that shows your uncertainty, but she insists.
You take a deep breath and follow the stone path that leads to her table. There's a limp on your steps still, telltales of the fight; sometimes you feel the eyes of your peers lingering on you. You wonder what they're thinking about, what they see when they look at you. A brave hero or a stupid kid?
What do they see when they look at her? A lonely, unfortunate soul or the savior of the school?
You sit down beside Enid, consequently in front of Wednesday, your hands resting in your lap as your knee goes up and down anxiously.
"Hey, how are you feeling?" Enid greets you happily, as if there isn't a tension thick enough to cut through in the air.
The question almost goes over your head. You're focusing on the Addams girl in front of you, on the way her knuckles suddenly go white as she grips the lunch tray like her life depends on it.
"I'm alright," you answer, eyes fixed on Wednesday — she holds you in a trance.
"I've been meaning to ask if you have the notes from our last class?" Enid continues, in a kind effort to make things less complicated.
"I uh-" you start, but cut yourself off when Wednesday hastily gets up from her seat, not sparing you a glance as she turns around and walks away.
You watch her retreating figure, the ends of her skirt bouncing with her steps. With a groan, you begrudgingly take a bite from your apple, "there's no figuring her out, I'm done," you mumble over your mouthful.
Though you're not sure if you truly mean it.
"Don't say that," Enid pouts, keeping her eyes on Wednesday until she disappears through the doors that lead inside the school.
"She made it explicitly clear she wants nothing to do with me, Enid," you shrug, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips, "I think it's my fault anyway, so… I won't bother her anymore."
Enid turns, straddling the bench she's sitting on so she can fully face you; "what do you mean?"
You breathe in deeply, feeling the familiar flutter in your stomach just thinking about it. "A few weeks before all that shit happened, we shared a- a moment."
Enid instantly smiles, her eyes twinkling with excitement, "you kissed?"
You chuckle timidly, smiling along with the memory, "yeah," but your gaze dropped to your hands right after. "I think it was a mistake."
"I doubt it," Enid tells you confidently then, as if she's in on a secret you're not.
You raise an eyebrow at her.
Enid glances between you and the door that Wednesday had disappeared into, tasting the words on her tongue before she spills them over for you. She breathes in, and relents; "after you passed out…" she gulps, dreadful memory still fresh, "right after you got shot, from the blood loss. Wednesday, she- I never saw her so desperate."
Only from the emotions swimming in Enid's eyes, you could tell she was being honest. You couldn't help the tightness in your chest upon imagining Wednesday going through that.
"It was almost as if she knew you wouldn't make it, that you wouldn't survive," Enid keeps going, "or at least that's what she believed in."
Clarity shoots through you like a bullet as your eyes widened with the words. Ironic much, but that was the feeling.
Because there was a possibility, that Wednesday saw your misfortune before it even happened. Right when you kissed her, no less.
And if that was the case, you couldn't imagine the torment she's been under ever since.
The night is calm, you can see clouds shaping the moon as you walk the path outside that leads to Ophelia Hall. It's a little late, just past curfew but you prefer it that way — fewer people around, the hallways will be empty.
It's a struggle for you to walk up the stairs, you have to stop once to catch your breath and allow the nagging pain that shoots up your leg to subside. Details. Tonight feels important, because you're going to see her; you'll make sure of it, even if she insists otherwise.
You stop in front of the dark wooden door. If you strain your ears, you can hear the faint noise of her typewriter. Enid isn't there, you know she's at Yoko's room tonight — her idea, not yours. Privacy is important, she told you, right after all but commanding you to do what you're doing.
With a deep breath in and feeling more nervous than you thought you would, you raise your fist, and knock.
The typing noise stops, you hear her chair scratching the floor. You couldn't breathe even if you tried.
The door pulls open and your heart melts a little at the sight; Wednesday stands in front of you with a hoodie and sweatpants on, and her hair free of braids, clearly not expecting anyone to show up at this hour.
You're snapped out of your trance when you register the door closing again. You quickly hold it open with your hand; "hear me out, please."
"No," Wednesday huffs, "I told you to stay away."
"Yeah, and not much else," you push through, squeezing your way inside her room and closing the door behind you. Wednesday takes a big step back as if you'd burn her. It hurts. "Could've given me a reason."
With a deep breath in, Wednesday sets her jaw tight, "I don't owe you anything."
You avoid her eyes then, "maybe not, but I thought we had-"
"We didn't," Wednesday tells you, the shake of her voice makes you look up, and you think you see her eyes glistening, "we don't."
You nod slowly, and despite the bleeding of your heart, you speak softly; "did you see it?" You chew on the inside of your cheek, fumbling with your hands so they don't tremble, "that night, you had a vision didn't you? About what happened to me?"
There's a sudden stillness to the room that feels awfully familiar to Wednesday. She hates the way she can't seem to control her breathing pattern, she hates that the image of you in front of her is becoming blurry.
"Is that why you've been avoiding me? Because I got hurt?"
Your words urge Wednesday's mind to travel back to that night. She closes her eyes tightly, causing a tear to roll down her cheek and part of her wants to kick you out of the room for making that happen.
"You're a liability," she tells you the first thing her mind conjures up.
You chuckle humourlessly, "ouch, considering I saved your life that's-"
"Exactly the problem." Wednesday interrupts urgently, "are you stupid? If you insist on staying close to me you'll only hurt yourself." Her voice breaks at the end of the sentence, as if it caused her physical pain to speak.
You've never heard her this vulnerable, this scared. Your heart bleeds but for a different reason; for the affection you hold for her, for not being able to protect her from what happened. You take a step further towards her and breathe a sigh of relief when she doesn't take one away from you. "And what if staying away hurts me just as much? What then?"
It's quiet. Wednesday doesn't make a single sound. All you see are her cheeks slowly being stained with tear tracks as they roll all the way down to her chin and drip to the floor, her eyebrows scrunching in hurt. But she's so quiet.
You take one more step. "Tell me why."
A beat of silence, and then; "you made me… care about you and then you go and almost die." Wednesday chokes out angrily.
You smile sadly, finally hearing the words you've been chasing; though you'd prefer them in better circumstances, "caring about people can be… scary."
You don't think she registered that you were so close. Wednesday flinches when your hand touches hers, it's a ghost of a touch, barely there, yet it feels almost like an embrace.
"But I promise you, I'm not going anywhere," you say quietly, tears pooling at the bottom lid of your eyes as you carefully hold her hand properly.
Wednesday is frozen in place, it feels like someone reached past her ribs and is squeezing the organ that pumps her blood. She hates that she must look like a mess, yet this is the first time in weeks that she feels she can actually breathe. Part of her has been stuck on that night — hands stained with your blood as the paramedics take you away from her — until now.
Her fingers tentatively close around yours, her lips part and she struggles a little to get the words out, "it's not a promise you can keep."
"I can try," you whisper. You see it clearly in her eyes; the guilt she's been carrying. "What happened that night, it wasn't your fault, you have to know that, Wednesday."
"It was because of me," she reasons just as quietly, "and almost took you from me."
Goosebumps raise on your skin at her words. Your thumb gently traces her hand. It's private, it's delicate, it's a moment that belongs to you two only. "It'll take more than a bullet for you to get rid of me," you tease with a tearful grin.
Slowly, you bring her hand up so it rests over your chest; her palm flush with your skin as your heart beats rhythmically right underneath it. "I'm right here," you breathe.
It's all it takes for her to, finally, surrender. Wednesday stumbles forward, and you're there to catch her. Her head rests on your shoulder and her hands clutch at the fabric of your shirt to the point of ripping. You encircle your own arms around her waist, pressing her tightly to you.
Wednesday is still mostly quiet, the only thing you can hear if you focus hard enough is the occasional hitch of her breath. But you feel the way her tears soak your shirt, the way her body trembles as she gives her all to contain her sobs.
"There was… so much blood," is all she tells you, words muffled against your skin.
"I know," you slide one of your hands up to her head, entangling your fingers through her hair, "I'm so sorry it had to be you." You plant several kisses on her temple and on her hair, each one is a different promise.
I'm here.
I won't leave.
My blood will never be in your hands again.
You think she understands, because you feel her own lips brushing the skin of your shoulder; cold, damp with tears. Tender.
I love you.
⋆* ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3
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wonwoosthetic · 1 year
Note
Hi can you do anything that’s pre-outbreak of Joel and reader anniversary. It can be smut but the beginning can be Joel and Sarah planning the anniversary! I love their relationship so much
series masterlist
pairing – pre-outbreak!joel x reader
word count – 11.6k (this was supposed to be short and sweet... what happened...)
warnings – slight injuries, hospital scene but nothing major, cute smut (18+)
a/n – some more cute domestic joel stuff 🥺 with some smut hehe 😬 thank you for the request <3 I hope you like what I made with it ˙ᵕ˙ also just want to quickly take the time and thank you guys for all the love on my previous joel work, you actually made my app crash 😅🤭
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Happy Anniversary?
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After Sarah had finished her homework at the Adler's place, she ran home and hopped onto the couch to enjoy some child-friendly TV - being stuck in a house with only people over sixty wasn't really her favourite way of spending her free time.
It didn't surprise her when her dad wasn't home at six. It also didn't surprise her when he wasn't there yet at seven. Around eight in the afternoon though, she started to wonder. The only way she could reach him was the landline, so she leaned over the armrest of the sofa to get a hold of the phone before dialling the number her father had made her know by heart back in kindergarten. It didn't even ring. The robot's voice immediately let her know that he was unavailable. With scrunched eyebrows and her lips pressed together in a tight line, she leaned back into the cushions.
There was one other person that would probably know where he was. You. Another number Joel had asked her to learn once he had noticed that things were getting serious between the two of you. The girl didn't need to wait for long before the familiar tone of your voice rang through her eyes.
"Hello?" Of course, you had the number of Joel's landline saved in your phone, but you didn't know who of the Miller household was calling.
"Hi, Y/N!"
"Oh, Sarah, hey! How are you?"
Sarah smiled, just like she always did whenever she got to talk to you. The relationship the two of you had built up over the past one and a half years she had known you, was something very special. Not only did she love the connection you, from one woman to another, but she truly felt like you had a close friendship she wouldn't want to give up. Ever.
"I'm good, thanks, how are you?"
You sighed, "Good… now that I'm home."
"Adult work isn't getting any more exciting?" She joked, making you chuckle.
"Exactly." A second of silence passed before you noticed nothing coming from her side. "Are you okay?"
Sarah made herself more comfortable on the couch, "Yup… sorry that I called you-"
"Don't worry, sweetie, trust me, hearing you right now has been the best part of the entire day."
Your comment made her grin even wider, "Well I'm happy to make your day better," to which you both giggled. "I was just wondering if you've heard anything from dad. Did he say he has to work late today?"
You let her question register in your brain before you went through the conversation you had with Joel last night since you haven't heard from today yet. "Ehm… no, I don't think he said anything about that. Isn't he home yet?"
Sarah shook her head before realising, you can't see her, "No, so I kinda thought, maybe he's still at work, but… now I don't know."
"Maybe something came up-"
"He isn't picking up." That made you go quiet. "I tried calling him, and it just went straight to his voicemail."
You bit your lip. Oh, God. You knew the stress of a parent not being at home at the usual time just all too well, remembering all the times it had happened to you as a kid and you immediately thought of the worst-case scenario.
"What about uncle Tommy?" You suggested.
The girl was just about to open her mouth and answer when the front door opened. Her head snapped to her left, eyes immediately on the familiar figure of her father entering the room.
"Wow…" she breathed out.
"What? What is it?" You hastily wondered.
"Speaking of the devil," you could hear the slight annoyance in her voice, "Guess who just walked through the door?" Joel sent her a questioning look as he walked further into the living room, throwing himself onto the couch, right next to his daughter.
You couldn't help but chuckle, "Hm… maybe your father, who once again decided to work longer and not tell us about it?"
"Mh," she grinned before turning to the man and shaking her head with a frown on her face.
A breath of relief fell from your lips as you got up from your position on one of the armchairs in your living room, "Well then, mystery solved. You better interrogate the heck out of him."
"Without you?" She gasped.
"Oh, trust me, he'll get a good talking-to from me tomorrow." Your answer received a grin from the girl, followed by a subtle devilish giggle.
"Good. Thank you for picking up, not like some other people here." Her comment was clearly directed to her father, earning her a soft shove to her upper arm, making her grin.
You smiled, "Anytime, sweetie. I guess I have to go back to my boring life now. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yep!" The happiness and excitement radiated off that little girl, lightning up the sparkle in her eyes at the mention of the following day. "See ya! Good night, Y/N."
"Good night, Sarah."
The youngest Miller placed the phone back on the side table, before turning to the oldest one, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She cleared her throat, "What do you have to say in your defence, Sir?" Her eyes followed his movements as he leaned back into the sofa with a groan, running a hand over his face.
"I forgot to tell you-"
"Oh, really!" She quickly exclaimed, interrupting Joel, receiving a warning glance from him, making her sulk back into the cushions.
"So as I was saying," he glanced at her, "I'm sorry that I forgot to tell you that I'd be in town after work. And I forgot to charge my phone."
Sarah scrunched her eyebrows, "What were you doing in town?"
Joel groaned, getting up to look for some food in the kitchen, "I wanted to get something for Y/N for tomorrow."
His answer made the girl laugh out loud as she got up to join him in the other room, sitting down at the dining table, "Are you serious?"
He looked up at her from his crouched position as he was trying to find something to eat in the fridge. "What?"
His daughter shook her head, "You're looking for an anniversary gift one day before your anniversary?"
Joel took out the container holding dinner from two days ago, grinning when it reminded him of you. Always making sure there was food in the house he lived in. You cared for him. And his daughter. "I've been thinking about what to get her for a few days, alright? But I haven't had the time to actually go and look for it," he defended himself, but it didn't get the look off the girl's face.
"And what did you find?"
He sighed, "Nothing. That's the problem."
"What are you gonna do now?"
"I have no idea…" Sarah could tell how exhausted he must be with the heavy breath leaving his lips. But the fact that he truly cared about getting you something special made her ecstatic. "You hungry?" Her father wondered, getting a shake of her head in response,
"I ate earlier." She shot up from her seat and skipped over into the kitchen, "So?! What are you gonna do?" Leaning on the counter, eyeing her dad suspiciously as he took a bite of the cold food with a fork. That also earned him a weird look from her, but he just wanted to get something into his stomach, not caring about the temperature - your cooking was gourmet to him in any way.
"I don't know," he answered, shrugging, "I can't believe I'm so fucking bad at giving gifts." Sarah ignored the swear word, blaming his fatigue, and didn't remind him of the swear jar you and her had brought into the house two months earlier.
"What did you gift her for her birthday?"
Tomorrow would be your first anniversary together.
A full years of being an official couple. While Joel was a romantic gentleman in every way possible, buying you flowers 'just 'cause', calling you sometimes multiple times a day 'just to hear your voice', keeping you in the house over the weekends and sometimes overnight during the week 'because he could never spend too much time with you', he still was a horrible gift giver - a fact no one could deny.
But more of a problem was your inability of receiving gifts. Because you hated it. You loved giving, hated receiving - not in all parts of life though. Especially not with Joel.
Though, whenever he had asked you what you wanted for your anniversary, birthday, or even International Woman's Day, he got the same answer each time: "I don't want anything." The truth was, you truly didn't. You've never been a big fan of material things, rather finding the thought behind something and a small gesture much more meaningful and loving. All the 'little' things your partner would do for you were enough - opening doors, carrying you whenever your feet hurt and taking you out for dinner on random days, were just a few of them. Yes, it may be the bare minimum, but still a rare minimum.
A rare minimum you had never been blessed with, with any of your past boyfriends. All until you met Joel and found out what it was like to have a true man by your side.
"That necklace you told me she'd like," he reminded her, brushing a hand over the wild curls he adored so much.
Sarah nodded with an open mouth, "Aaah, right right, I remember. She really did like that." They both nodded in sync. "But do you know what she loved even more?" Making the oldest Miller's head perk up,
"What?"
His daughter grinned at him, "The poster I made for her."
"True," he couldn't help but copy her facial expression, "She did like that a lot."
"She LOVED it!" Sarah shouted out, hitting her palms on the top of the counter, "She almost cried when she saw it," followed by giving her father a side-eye look, "She only said thanks to your gift, but she had tears because of mine."
Joel glanced at her, one eyebrow raised, "What are you tryna tell me?"
"Y/N loves me more than you," she flipped an invisible strand of hair to underline her comment.
The older man smiled, "Sure."
"Buuut," she dragged out the word, leaning over to steal a piece of broccoli from the container Joel was eating out of, "I also think that she would just appreciate self-made stuff more than things you can buy."
He stopped for a second to think before nodding his head, "So you're suggesting that I what? Build something?" Sarah nodded. "And what exactly?"
"Man, what do I know… You're the contractor here." But all he could do was sigh. He was in fact the contractor, but what the hell had that something to do with anything. The man put the food to the side to make some space and place his elbows on the counter, shoving his face into his two palms, groaning out loud.
The daughter of the family stood by his side, staring at him in amusement, finding this situation much funnier than her dad. With a chuckle, she passed him placing a somewhat comforting hand on his back.
"You're a lousy gift giver." Her comment though was anything but comforting.
He straightened his back to glare down at the girl, "Thanks." But it just got a giggle out of her.
After a quick glance around the room, the idea she had been holding in, as it was supposed to stay a secret present from her to the couple, came back up into her brain. "We could bake something for her."
That caught his attention. Joel didn't hate the idea. He definitely didn't. Your sweet tooth was known to the family, added to your appreciation and love for self-made gifts turned it into the perfect present.
"We?"
Sarah scoffed, "You really think I'd trust you with baking a cake?"
"Hey," he took her statement as an offence, "I'm doing very well in the kitchen." He didn't even believe that himself.
"Pff," she patted his back once again, "Sure, dad. Sure."
"I'm a great cook, alright?" he took it one step further, but his daughter was having none of it, giggling at him while shaking her head,
"You're an okay cook and a terrible baker."
He took the last bite of what was left in the plastic box before moving to put it into the dishwasher. "You can't be serious right now…"
Moments like these were Sarah's favourite. Watching her dad get all rilled up just never failed to make her chuckle. Joel enjoyed it just as much. The happiness radiating off her, with a beautiful and bright smile decorating her face, was a sight he never wanted to lose. "Uncle Tommy's a better baker than you," she quickly added before sliding past him to find the fitting cookbook on the shelf in the living room.
Joel's head shot into her direction, a finger pointing at her before she disappeared, "You take that back!" Her high-pitched giggles filled his ears with love and joy.
-
Sarah's feet were dangling off the counter while she was snacking on some of the sprinkles she wanted to put on the cake, along with taste-testing the pink sugar writing. Her father was preparing the frosting, every now and then checking on the cake in the oven, making sure it wouldn't burn because that was the last thing he needed.
They were sharing a few moments of comfortable silence in the room, whereas the girl's mind was filled with questions, daring to slip out any second as she didn't want to hold them back for much longer.
"So, Y/N's coming over tomorrow?"
Joel nodded with a whisk in the bowl, covered in blue-greenish frosting Sarah had coloured, "Yeah, I'm picking her up from work, and I'd bring her here," he looked up, "If that's okay with you."
"Of course," his daughter chuckled, putting the sprinkles down, freeing her hands so she could place them on the counter. She puckered her lips, thinking carefully about her next question. As much as she thought of a way to introduce the subject, she couldn't think of one, so she just jumped into the cold water.
"Do you wanna marry Y/N?" The words made Joel stop in his tracks, his eyes shot up to meet hers.
He sent her a questioning glance, "W-Where's that coming from?"
She shrugged, "I was just thinking. You know… you've been together for a year… and you seem happy-"
"We are," he assured her.
"And don’t adults think about getting married? When they’re happy."
He stood up straighter to lean onto the counter, crossing his arms, leaving the work on the frosting on the side for a bit. "Aren't you a little too young to be thinking about marriage?"
"For me? Yeah," she scoffed, "Because boys? Disgusting," getting a proud smirk for father as a response, "But I mean for you two… I don't know… I was just wondering."
Joel sighed, getting back to work, "Well… I mean, you ain't wrong, sweetheart. But there's a lot of things you need to do before you get married or even think about proposing."
"Like moving in?"
"Sure," he nodded, "Some couples move in before they get married. It's not the traditional way, but as we know, traditional is boring." She copied his head movements with a grin plastered on her face.
"Then why not ask her?" Sarah tilted her head and raised her eyebrows as soon as she locked eyes with the oldest Miller again.
"What do you mean?"
"Ask her to move in."
Joel chuckled in surprise, the spit in his throat almost making him joke, "You sure have some interesting suggestions today, kiddo. You alright? Do I have to be worried?" His facial expression made her laugh out loud as she nudged him with her foot, making him squirm away jokingly.
"Nooo, dad! I'm just saying," she motioned around with her hands,
"You've been together for a while… and… she's already spending every weekend here and sometimes comes over during the week. She makes sure we eat," Joel nodded along with all of the things his daughter was listing, "She takes care of me and you, she already has some of her stuff in your drawer-"
"How do you know about that?" She grinned sheepishly at him, "I saw it when I went through your stuff…"
The father took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second, "Alright… how about we don't do that anymore?" Eyeing the little girl sitting on the counter to his left, but she just shrugged,
"You said we shouldn't keep any secrets from each other."
He sighed. Fuck. She wasn't wrong. "You're right… I did say that." Goddamn, always smarter than any other adult in the room. That was his little Sarah.
"So, are you gonna ask her?"
After tasting the frosting and checking its consistency, he gave the girl the whisk, just like he saw you doing it multiple times before. She accepted it with a bright smile.
Joel enjoyed having conversations like these. Obviously, he understood that she was still a kid, and he would never deny her of her innocent mind and easy-going-with-the-wind mindset, but he also appreciated the slightly more adult talks they could share. That's why he was more than happy to explain it to her.
"It's not as easy as you think it is, kiddo. Y/N still has an apartment. One that she shares. So, we’d have to talk about that first. And there's a lot of document stuff we'd have to get-"
"I asked her," she caught his attention when he came back up to stand up straight from looking at the cake through the oven window.
"What?"
"I asked her if she would like to move in with us. Not like actually, but just, you know, the idea of it."
Now Joel became interested. Of course, the two of you had had the conversation about a shared home before, but every couple had that at some point in their relationship. Hearing what you'd think about the idea now would have maybe changed. Now it was more relevant than ever, apparently.
"And," he looked down at his fingers, "What did she say?"
Sarah smirked, "She said the same thing as you just did. So really a match made in heaven," and rolled her eyes jokingly, "But she also said that she'd really like the idea… if I was okay with it."
"And? Are you- I-I mean, would you?"
"Of course! Are you kidding me?! I love her so much! Probably even more than you-"
"I doubt that."
"I don't," she stated straightforwardly, "And you're happy when you're with her, and you make her happy. What more you could want? AND thanks to her, the weekends aren't so boring anymore."
"What was wrong with the weekends before?" He was slightly taken aback by her comment, unsure if it was meant ironically or not. But then again, he was probably overthinking a lot at that moment.
Sarah smiled, "Don't get me wrong, dad. I loved the weekends with you and uncle Tommy, but having another woman in the house is just…" She shrugged, unsure of how to explain just how comfortable you made her feel. Joel and her were open about a lot of things, but Joel was… well, he was your typical single Texanian-dad, that didn't know what to do in certain female-focused situations - let's just put it like that.
Having conversations from woman to woman was something the father appreciated very much when it came to what you brought along when getting to know his kid. And the girl was happier than ever, being finally able to talk to an older person about certain struggles she might encounter that were still slightly too embarrassing to discuss with her dad.
"It's different, I know. I understand," he smiled at her.
"It's good different though," she nodded, "I really like her."
"And you'd be okay with her living here?" He finally asked. Sarah was the reason for his still-intact heartbeat. The only thing having kept him alive so far. Now you had also joined to share that position, but he was still his blood, and you'd never even try to get in between that.
"More than okay," she exclaimed, "I'd be SO happy to have her here constantly. I'd finally have someone against you."
Joel squinted his eyes at her, "Because Tommy isn't enough already?" Receiving a smug smile in return.
He shook his head with a chuckle when the timer went off, indicating that the cake was finally done. Sarah hopped off the counter to stand back on her two feet when her father leaned down to get the cake out of the oven and placed it on the stove.
"You know," he threw the dishtowel he used to not burn his hand to the side before turning to face the girl, "You might be a bit too smart for a kid your age."
The youngest Miller crossed her arms proudly, holding her chin up high, "Thanks, I got it from my uncle." That just made Joel look at her in surprise, almost making her laugh out loud.
He put on his low dad voice, "You got that from your father, thank you very much."
She dropped her hands, "Whatever," and moved a bit closer to stand right next to him, "So will you ask her tomorrow?"
"Yes," he promised her, "I will ask her tomorrow." To which she started bouncing up and down, her body full of excitement, making Joel chuckle and pull her in for a side hug and gift her a kiss on the top of her head.
She clapped her hands, "Now, let's start decorating."
-
You were running -scratch that - Sprinting through the hospital corridors, desperately trying to find the info point a nurse had told you to go to.
You had never crossed town at the speed you just did. Once the message from the other side of the call registered in your brain, you dropped everything at work, ignored the calls from your boss, just shouted a quick, "Family emergency," and raced to catch the next possible bus.
With a big breath shooting out of your lungs, you came to a halt once you came to sight with the hotspot you were looking for. You braced yourself up with your palm, trying to catch your breath before you spoke up, "Hi, sorry, I'm looking for Joel Miller. He's supposed to be in a check-up room."
The nurse looked up at you, surprised by the sound of urgency in your voice. She was quick to type the name into her system, but it felt like hours for you. Your legs were nervously shaking, barely able to hold you up anymore.
She opened her mouth, making you stare at her, eyes widened, "Room 293, down the hall on the right." You were just about to thank her and continue your race but she continued, "He's just got done with the medical exam, but I'd ask you to please wait outside until a doctor comes and approves of him accepting visitors."
Fuck that. You muttered a quick thanks before your legs took you where she explained the room would be.
If they really thought you'd wait for a fucking doctor to allow you to see your boyfriend you expected to be in the worst possible condition, they were wrong. Very wrong.
Hectically, your eyes scanned each number plate on the side of the doors as you tried to find the right one.
290… 291… 292… 293! A sigh of relief washed over you. You got closer to the door, glancing to the left and right, just to make sure there was no one that could see you walk in before you knocked three times. A quiet, "Yeah?" rang through your ears and you didn't wait for another second to open the door.
Your eyes immediately fell to the man sitting on the examining bed. He was alive. At least he looked like it.
"Y/N?"
Out of breath, you tried to speak, "Joel… w-what the fuck?!" He couldn't even open his mouth. "Are you out of your goddamn mind? What the- what the hell happened to you?!" You got closer to him, your fingers coming up to gently touch his chin, turning his head to look at the small scraps next to his eyes. You noticed the bandage on his forehead, guessing he must've gotten stitches there, only making you sigh again.
Joel got a hold of your hands, holding them close to his chest as he tried to calm you down, "Sweetheart… I'm okay," he brushed some wild hairs that were covering your face, to the side, "I'm alright."
"No," you shook your head, already feeling your throat close up, "Look at you."
"This is nothing, I promise."
While his right hand held onto yours tightly, the palm of his left one ran up and down your lower arm. You shrugged out of his grasp to hide your face behind your hands as soon as you could feel the first tears rolling down your cheeks. Your fingers pressed into your eyes.
"You scared the shit of out me," your voice was not much more than a whisper, but the room was quiet, so Joel was able to hear you clearly. He pushed himself off the bed, standing up in front of you to engulf you in a warm hug when he noticed your brittle voice and your whole body shaking.
His low voice tried to calm down your soft cries as he pressed your head into his chest, ignoring the slight pain in his ribs, remembering the big bruise that was forming there. "I'm sorry, darlin'," he whispered, "I'm sorry. But I'm okay. I promise." He moved his hands from brushing over your back to cupping your cheeks, his thumbs caressing your skin, wiping away the wet stains your tears left. "I'm alive," he grinned at you, but you just shook your head.
"You're a fucking idiot, Miller," pushing a finger into his chest, getting a subtle groan out of him, making you flinch back immediately, "What?" Your eyes hastily ran over his body, "You're hurt there too."
You tried to push his shirt up, but he stopped you, placing his hands on top of yours, "No no, don't worry. Just hurts a little."
You couldn't help but to sigh again. That man was going to be the death of you. With a few steps back, you distanced yourself from him, sitting down in one of the chairs by the desk across from the bed. Carefully, Joel sat back on top of the bed. Your eyes scanned his form as you noticed the hiss he was trying to hold back, his lips pressed together tightly.
You shook your head and closed your eyes, lowering your head.
"Did Tommy call you?"
You scoffed, "Obviously."
"Did you call Sarah?" To which you motioned a 'no' to him.
"You don't need two women in your life to have a heart attack," you explained, "And I didn't know what to tell her. Tommy just said there was an accident on the construction site, and you're in the hospital. I didn't even let him finish. I sprinted out of the office." Your story made him chuckle, but he noticed your still anxious and tense body.
"He brought me here just to make sure everything was alright. I wasn't hurt badly. No one was."
You looked up to meet his eye, "Joel, you got stitches!"
He shrugged, "Not the first time, not the last time."
"Why would you say that?!" You stared at him unamused, your mouth open. Taking a deep breath in, your hand brushed through your hair while you let your eyes travel around the room. You hated hospitals. You had yet to have a positive experience in one of these buildings. The silence that overcame the room was choking. But you weren't in the mood to say anything else, nor did you know what to even say, and Joel could read you like the back of his hand. He knew he scared you. He hated it, so he was the first to break the stillness.
"Happy Anniversary."
You raised your head, finding him grinning at you shyly, making you shake your head, "Don't. This isn't funny." He nodded, understanding what was going on in your head. Another moment of silence filled the room.
"I'm sorry. I know this isn't the way you expected to spend our anniver-"
"I couldn't care less about the anniversary, Joel!" You exclaimed in frustration, "I- I thought you were-," you stopped before you could get choked up again, not even wanting to dare to say out loud what was going on in your head when you answered Tommy's phone call. "God knows what could've happened to you!"
"Come 'ere," he nodded you over, but you shook your head,
"Joel-" you were stopped by the motion of his hand for you to come closer. The man was already hurt, you didn't have to add to that. With a sigh, you stood up, leaving your bag on the chair next to you, before walking up to him again. The oldest Miller leaned forward to grasp your hand and pulled you closer, even getting a soft smile out of you.
His hand rested on your hips as you stood between his legs while you intertwined your fingers behind his neck.
"I'm sorry for scaring you, darlin'. I promise I'll be more careful."
"You better," your finger slid through his hair as you noticed the look in his eyes while he was staring at you. His right hand found its way to the back of your neck, pulling you down to finally do what he had been wanting to do all day. His lips moved against yours as you could feel him smirking before he pulled back slightly.
"I'll make it up to you tonight." You looked into his eyes in confusion, but only for a second before you moved your head back with a gasp.
"Joel!" You smacked his shoulders gently, "You're sitting on fucking a hospital bed, how could you think about sex right now?" He just continued grinning, his hands moving all over your body, keeping his eyes on yours, "How could I not with you in front of me."
A chuckle escaped from your lips followed by a shake of your head, "You're unbelievable." You got pulled closer again, his lips smashing against yours.
"Unbelievably in love with you." Earning himself a giggle and a quick peck from you.
Your fingers softly grazed the skin of his cheek, careful not to touch any of his injuries as you smiled, "Happy Anniversary, Joel." He couldn't help but to copy your facial expression, keeping you as close to him as he possibly could.
-
You drove the two of you home after the oldest Miller had gotten released from the hospital, and Tommy had already made his way back to his place. Joel was definitely moving slightly more carefully, but he assured you he was a-okay - you didn't fully believe it, but it wasn't worth a discussion.
After parking the car in the garage, you made your way into the house through the backdoor. Joel opened it for you to walk in first, just like he always did. You gave him a quick, "thank you," and stepped in before you stopped in your tracks, a high-pitched voice surprising you with a loud,
"HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!"
"Oh, Jesus!" Your hand flew up to your chest, your breathing quickening as you took in the scene in front of you. Sarah was beaming at you with her bright smile, a pink poster with big letters staring directly at you.
You started laughing, "God, you scared me, kid."
Joel stopped behind you, laughing at the sight. She ignored your exclaim, running up to wrap her arms around your torso, making you do the same around her shoulders. You pulled her in, placing a kiss on the top of her head. "You really are just the cutest," pulling back to look at her, petting her cheek, "Thank you, sweetie."
She gave you another quick grin before moving on to her father, doing the same to congratulate him, when she noticed the cuts on his face.
"What happened to you?"
Joel shrugged, a hand brushing over her hair, "Just a little accident at work. Nothing to worry about."
You moved further into the house, placing your bag on one of the dining chairs. Your eyes took in the room, holding your gaze once again on the poster Sarah had clearly self-made. She had placed it on top of the table before she had rushed over to the two of you, so you were able to run your fingers over the little stones and glitter patches she had glued on. You remembered the sign you had gotten from her only a few months ago.
"You outdid yourself this time, Sarah," you turned to her when you noticed she had come to stand next to you, "It's so cute."
"Thanks," she radiated her happiness on you. "And look!" She skipped into the kitchen, making your gaze follow her when she pointed to the counter when you saw what got her so excited.
You started giggling. On the countertop sat a turquoise-coloured cake, with white frosting details on the side on pink hearts decorating the top of it.
"Oh my god!" you exclaimed, "Awww, did you do that yourself?"
She shrugged with a smile, "Dad helped me." To which Joel got closer to you two, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion,
"I thought you helped me." His arm snaked around your waist.
"Well," she answered him, "You thought wrong," sending him a sheepish grin that made you chuckle.
You opened your arms to get her into another hug, tightening your arms around her just a little tighter than before, "Well, I appreciate it a lot. Thank you, sweetie. I love it." Your eyes may have gotten a little glassy, but you were able to hold it back, not wanting to surprise them with a gush of happiness.
Joel next to you cleared his throat, gaining all the attention of the room. You released Sarah from your grasped and wrapped your arms around your partner's waist. "And thank you to you too, of course," smiling up at him as he looked down. You puckered your lips, making him smirk and lower his head to meet your mouth, giving you a quick peck.
Sarah interrupted your small moment of love when she called out, "Okay, let's eat!"
All three of you followed her orders and sat down around the dining table after grabbing plates, forks, and a knife to cut the cake. While your eyes were on Joel, who was giving each one of you a good slice, you also noticed the little girl next in the middle of the two of you, happily clapping drumming her hands on the surface, that smile of hers never leaving her face.
It was in moments like these when you truly thought to yourself what you could have possibly done in your past life to deserve people like them in your life. A boyfriend that would carry you to the ends of the world, in whose arms you felt safer than anywhere else, along with a wonderful daughter that looked at you as if you were the reason for the stars lighting up the sky.
You enjoyed the sweet dinner, easily falling into a comfortable conversation like you usually would. Sarah told you about her good day at school, bragging about the grade she had gotten on her chemistry exam, earning her a round of applause from you and a kiss on her cheek from her father. Joel and you talked about your workdays, leaving out the time you had spent in the hospital. He was fine, that's all you cared about.
After the meal, you brought all the dirty dishes into the kitchen, loading up the dishwasher, Joel placed the cake back into the fridge, and Sarah was put in charge of choosing a movie to let the evening come to an end.
Her choice fell on Jurassic Park, knowing how much the oldest in the house loved the movie, and after getting a nod of approval from you, she put it into the DVD player, telling you to hurry up and join her on the couch.
Joel and you sat down on either side of her before the girl made herself comfortable and laid her head on your lap while resting her legs on her father's. Automatically, your hands found their way to her head, brushing through her unruly hair you always complimented.
This position allowed Joel to come just a little bit closer, lifting his daughter's legs to slide over to you, pulling your head to lean on his shoulder and copying your actions to start patting your head as well. Not even forty minutes later, the soft snores and even breaths from the little girl accompanied the sounds coming from the TV. You looked down with a chuckle.
"What?" Joel wondered, "Did she fall asleep?"
"Yeah," you smiled, eyeing him suspiciously once he stood up with a groan,
"Finally." He crouched down slightly, moving one arm underneath Sarah's knees, while his other one steadied her neck. He straightened his back and pointed a finger at you, "You stay here. I still have something to make up to you."
Getting a giggle out of you, "Joel!"
"I mean it!" He shout-whispered at you before disappearing upstairs.
You brought your knees up, hugging them to your body when you remembered the little gift that was still hidden in your bag. With a soft huff, you pushed yourself off the sofa and walked over to the dining room the snatch your bag off the chair.
"Darlin', where- oh, there you are," Joel found you with your back turned towards him, rummaging through your back when he crept up on you and placed his hands on your hips once he got close enough. His lips immediately latched onto your neck, peppering it with kisses, making you giggle.
"Stooop," you laughed, leaning back into his chest.
"What are you doing?" He wondered as you turned around, your hands hidden behind your back.
You grinned up at him, "I've got something for you."
"You do?" His eyebrows shot up, "Why? Having you here is already enough," he didn't even wait for a response from you, just saw you rolling your eyes, making him chuckle as he pulled you in for a quick kiss.
You were first to retrieve back, receiving a low whine from him in return, to which you shook your head with a smile. "May I give you your gift now?"
Joel stood up straighter and put his hands out, palm up, in front of you, closing his eyes along the process. Without wasting another second, you placed the little box into his grasp. He opened his eyes again, looking suspiciously at the packaging, shaking it slightly,
"What is it?"
"You really expect me to tell you instead of just opening it?"
He smiled, "Alright, alright."
You could hardly contain your excitement as he ripped the paper off the box, throwing it onto the table behind you. As soon as Joel opened it, his eyes shot up to find you grinning right at him.
"Darlin'…"
"Sarah told me you've been looking for one," you explained, "But she also said that you never take the time to go downtown and look for one. So, I thought, I'd just save you the stress."
His fingers ran across the rounded edges of the watch in the box. It looked expensive, that's for sure.
"You didn't have to do that, sweetheart," he spoke quietly, still in awe of the present worth so much more than just money in his hands.
You shrugged, "I know, but I wanted to."
Joel took it out of its packaging, putting that to the side as well before wrapping it around his wrist. Your fingers came to help, closing the little buckle so it fit him perfectly.
He couldn't take his eyes off the watch, "Thank you, darlin'," but you were a much better sight to him, "I love it," so he pulled you in again, "I ain't never taking that off ever again."
Your hands found their usual place on the back of his neck again as you kissed him back, whispering against his lips, "I'm glad you like it. Happy anniversary."
"Happy anniversary," he mumbled back, giving you a peck before sliding out of your embrace, "Well, I guess it's time for me to give you your present now?"
"Joel," you whined, "I told you, I don't-"
His hand stopped you before he exited the kitchen and came back only seconds later, his hand in a tight fist. You waited patiently for him to open his mouth again, even though you were anything but that.
He stopped in front of you, raised his arm and let what he was holding drop down while holding onto what looked like a key ring.
"What is it?" You reached out to grab it, laying it flat against your palm to analyse it. A key. Attached to a pendant representing three figures, a figure that was supposed to be a man, next to a woman, who then again stood next to the same figure just in small.
"The key to my heart?" He jokingly answered, making it sound more like a question, making you look up.
"Ha ha," you rolled your eyes. Always the romantic…
Joel took a deep breath before clearing his throat, "I mean… I guess it kinda is, but ehm… it's a housekey." You had to tear your eyes away from the object in your hands once again once your brain registered what he had just said.
"What?"
"So," he started explaining, his hands immediately on your hips again, "I was racking my brain over what I could give you today. But I just couldn't think of anything. Because honestly… I didn't think there was anything in this world that I could buy you, that would show you just how much you mean to me."
"Don't make me cry," you quickly intervened, making him chuckle as he placed a soft kiss on your cheek,
"I'll try," and put a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yesterday Sarah, the way too smart for her own good kid, that she is," the description made you smile, "got the idea of baking something for you because she said you value that a lot more than bought stuff." He had to take another deep breath before continuing, "And then while we were preparing the cake… you know her, she started asking all those questions until we landed on the whole moving-in thing." Throughout the whole speech, you listened attentively to your partner, keeping your eyes on him the entire time even while his drifted around the room. "Since you already spent the weekends with us and are here every now and then during the week, she asked me why you're not living with us yet."
"And your answer was?" A smug smile made its way onto your lips.
"Do you want the truth or what I told her?"
"The truth, please."
Joel's eyes followed his hands as they ran up and down your sides, "That her dad hasn't had the balls yet to ask his girlfriend." You shyly looked down back to your hands. At the little charm.
He noticed where your attention was and pointed at it, "Sarah picked that up today after school." Of course, she did… You could feel the tears coming back up. God, that girl was just too pure for the world…
"So?" His voice made you meet his eyes again, "What do you say? Can you handle three Millers under one roof?"
You pretended to think, playing with the lips he so desperately wanted to feel on his again, "It won't be easy."
He grinned, "That's not a no." You dropped the key onto the table behind you before your hands went back around his neck, pulling him in close enough for your lips to almost touch. You could feel his grip on your hips tighten.
The corners of your lips curled up, "That's because it's a yes," pecking his lips, "I'll take good care of you."
His left hand travelled to your lower back, "And we'll take good care of you too," he repeated giving you multiple little kisses, making you laugh. Oh, God how much he loved that sound. And now he would be able to hear that every single day. "Now, how about I stick true to that promise I made earlier?"
You nodded, breathing against each other's mouths, "Yeah, please do." And he didn't need to be told twice.
With one swift move, you were put onto the table, before he situated himself between your legs. His hands cupped your cheeks, pulling you as close as possible. You moved yourself slightly forward, letting a moan escape from your lips when you felt his tongue glide across your bottom lip.
Opening your mouth wider, gave him the opportunity to slip in, earning a deep groan from the man in front of you. Your fingers started playing with the hem of his shirt, signalling for him to pull back and pull it up as you helped him along with it, dragging him onto you the moment it came off - eyes immediately on the dark bruise forming on his ribs.
"Joel…," you gasped, reaching out to touch the dark spot, but he got a hold of your hand, bringing your knuckles up to his lips,
"It's nothin', darlin', don't worry about it." You could worry about the truth in his statement tomorrow, for now, you wanted to get him back on you, so you smashed your lips back onto his.
He chuckled, "Someone's eager," he started trailing kisses down your neck.
"Well, someone made me think about this for hours," you grabbed his face to bring him back up to you. You could never get enough of the touch of his lips. You would drown in it if you could. You wouldn't even care if you couldn't breathe anymore, it would be a happy death.
"And that someone is gonna make sure you won't be able to think at all for the next few hours," he whispered as his right hand slipped underneath your shirt, his thumb tracing over your bra.
You couldn't help the shake in your voice, "Hours? I think you're getting a little ahead of yourself, Miller." Knowing damn well that he wasn't. You had the privilege of getting the house to yourself every now and then or having had some alone time in your apartment. If he wanted to, he could go on for hours and hours. But you'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy rilling him up just a little bit.
He scoffed, pulling your shirt over your head easily, "Sure, keep saying that. Keep talking while can." He knew what he was doing to you with those words.
His hands roamed your almost naked torso, cupping your still-covered breasts into his big hands, making you moan into his mouth.
You could feel that gentle touch of his on your body before it stopped on your ass, pulling you closer to him as he mumbled, "Come 'ere. Let's go upstairs."
You were held up tightly against him as he carried you up into the first floor, taking a sharp left to get you both into his, well now your, bedroom. Your bedroom. From now on, this was the room you'd be sharing with your partner. God, what a good time to be alive…
Once you had reached the bed, Joel slouched over, making sure to place you onto the mattress gently.
There were two sides to Joel Miller when it came to sex. You were very familiar with both. There was the soft side you adored so much. When he took his time with you, kissing every inch of your body, working you up just right, adoring your body and covering it with pure passion. His thrust would be slow and deep, gentle, yet just filled with the same amount of lust as his other side. The alter ego, as you'd like to think of it was fast-paced, hard, yet never too short, sex. Still very passionate, but loud and messy. Bruises weren't a rarety after a night like that. And while that was what you understood when thinking of sex, you adored love-making just a little bit more when the time was right. Just like at that moment.
His kisses moved from your neck, down between your breasts, along the middle of your torso, holding onto it tightly, until he reached the rim of your jeans. His fingers got to work on your button, opening it along with the zipper, before getting up slightly to free your legs from them, sliding them down as he started kneeling on the floor. Down at your ankles, he pulled them off completely, getting rid of your socks as well before starting his journey of kisses back up again.
You squirmed more and more the higher he came up, making him have to move his hands to your hips to hold you down and pull you closer to the end of the bed to reach your inner thighs.
"Ah, fuck baby…," he moaned in between kisses, "So. Fucking. Beautiful."
You were brushing some hair out of your face, heavy breaths leaving your lips. You didn't even dare to look down, knowing you'd probably only get closer to coming right then and there with the sight. "Joel, please…" you whined.
"I know, I know, darlin'," he continued admiring your thighs with his lips before hooking his fingers into the side pieces of your underwear. He noticed which ones you were wearing.
"You know," he gave them a kiss too, right onto your pelvic bone,
"These are my favourite."
You chuckled, "Of course, I know. Why do you think I put them on?"
"Well, but then it wouldn't be right of me to just take them off right away, now would it?" He smirked letting go of the fabric and prepping your legs up on the mattress. His lips moved down to the centre of your pussy, placing a gentle kiss right where you wanted him, sending a shiver through your entire body along with a shaky breath tumbling from your lips.
Once again, his finger hooked underneath the fabric of your underwear, only this time, pulling the centre piece to the side, giving him a clear view of your sex, clearly glistening even in the dim light coming from the moon outside.
He didn't let another moment pass before he covered your slit in little kisses, his hands having a tighter grip on you once you started moving again. You were still enjoying the soft feather touches of his lips on yours when you suddenly felt the tip of his tongue running over your clit, getting a low moan out of you. You had to remember there was still a little girl in the room across from you - too much noise would eventually wake her up and you were not ready to have that kind of confrontation with her yet.
"Ah… Joel…" you breathed out, your fingers tangling around his hair, pulling slightly once you felt his tongue movements quicken and deepen.
He slipped around your clit, running it down to your hole before drawing circles around there as well. As soon as he was up again, gently sucking on your clit, you could already feel the arousal dripping out of you, making you shudder and hold onto his hair just a little tighter. He switched between focusing on your bundle of nerves and gathering every drip coming out of you with his tongue.
"Fuck," you couldn't help the whine erupting from you. You had to be quiet, not silent. Especially not when you knew what your sounds could do to Joel. You were confirmed of your thoughts when you heard the buckle of the belt on his jeans opening, followed by his zipper. Joel had to free his hands from holding onto you to get his jeans off his legs, dragging his boxers along with them to free his erect dick. But his tongue never left your heat - he was a God of multitasking and had proved that many times before.
Once you felt his right hand being placed on top of your abdomen and heard a deep groan coming from him, you knew he had started grasping his cock in his free hand. The thought of your partner jerking off to eating you out and the little breaths coming from you only added to the sensation that had been building up between your legs.
"Joel," you whimpered, "Don't-fuck, don't stop," begging him to keep going. His answer was another strong suck on your clit, and a lick of his tongue as he slid into you. The hand that had been holding you down was moving lower, still keeping you from moving too much, while his thumb had found its way to your clit, making sure to stimulate it, while his tongue was working inside of you.
"Oh, God, yeah…" you breathed out, uncontrollably starting to move your hips as well to get closer to the edge. Your moans came out higher-pitched as you pressed your lips together tighter, trying to keep as quiet as possible, while your partner was doing the Lord's work on you.
"Fuck- Joel, I'm gonna cum," you whined out, "I-"
"You can do it, baby," he encouraged you, letting go of his erection, to replace his tongue with two of his fingers, and going back to kissing your clit passionately while his right hand interlaced with yours.
"Come for me," he breathed against you.
You nodded, moaning slightly louder as the grip on his hand tightened, your hips moving around more. The tension kept building up, encouraging you to keep going as he moved his fingers in and out of you, the wet sounds echoing through the room.
"Come on, darlin'." His whisper made your body shake.
And after the last small whiny, "yeah…" slipped from your lips, you fell apart beneath him, tightening around his fingers, humming uncontrollably, and trying to hold in the moans and groans you could've let out.
Joel didn't stop though. He never does. He only removed his fingers to start cleaning you up with his tongue, not letting you recover from the orgasm that had washed over you.
You tried catching your breath, releasing his hand from your tight grasp, as you moved both your hands back to his hair, begging him to come up and hover over you, "Joel," you whispered, chest still heaving heavily.
With a smile, he came back up to face you after finally taking your underwear off completely, his arms resting on either side of you, peppering your face with kisses before stopping at your mouth. You could taste the remains of yourself on his tongue as he pushed it past your lips to slide over yours.
"I love you," he spoke quietly against your mouth, moving down to your jaw, making you smile as you pulled him to look you straight in the eyes, "I love you too," kissing him with just as much passion as before.
His right arm moved underneath your arched back, towing you into him as he sat you up on your knees. His fingers quickly opened the back of your bra, sliding it down your arms, following its trail to mark it with kisses. Once were boobs were free in front of you, he leaned down, getting to work on them as he decorated them with his lips. You threw your head back in relief, giving him easier access, sighing his name out loud.
When he wanted to feel your mouth on his again, he positioned his hand on your tits, engulfing them in the warmth of his palms.
"You're always so good to me." Now it was your time to move your lips down his throat, getting a soft moan out of him, while his fingers came to play with your nipples.
"How could I not," he got a hold of your chin, moving it gently so you'd be facing him again, "You deserve it," going back to stealing your breath and devouring your lips.
Joel sat down properly on the bed, giving you the opportunity, to take a seat on his lap. You let your hand travel down your body, between your legs to smear some of your wetness onto your palm before you moved onto him, covering his fully erect cock. He held himself up with his hands on the mattress, tilting his head back, letting the pleasure wash over him as a groan fell from his lips.
You pumped your hand up and down four times before you were ready to lower your head, but a soft grip on the back of your hair stopped you, gently pulling you back up, "No no, darlin', come on," Joel patted his lap, "Sit down." He had always been more of a giver than a receiver. Not that the hated blowjobs, how could he with your mouth, but he enjoyed giving a lot more than receiving.
You listened to his demand and scootched up onto his lap, not letting go of his erection in your hand as you lined it up with your sex before slowly sinking down on it, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders as soon as he grabbed you by your hips.
A soft but long whine vibrated in your throat as he started to fill you up, stretching you with his size. Your fingers started digging into his shoulders, making him hiss with a chuckle. His strong arms kept you as close as possible to him, waiting for you to set the pace and start moving.
You let your forehead fall against his once he was fully inside, and you started rotating your hip right away. Moving them back and forth to create some friction as both of you shared a round of low moans, kissing to prevent them from getting too loud. He moved his hips along with yours after getting to know the speed you were working with, making you sigh out loud. "Oh… fuck…"
Joel's hand came up to brush some of the hairs that stuck to your forehead, away, giving your cheeks a few pecks.
"You know, you get more beautiful each day," directing them down to your throat and the side of your neck.
You chuckled, "You're one to talk, dilf hot-shot." Your comment made the two of you giggle in chorus as you remembered him of the nickname he had earned himself at the last parent-teacher conference, which you found out, thanks to his daughter, who wondered what it meant.
He rolled his eyes,
"Oh please," he jerked his hips up to tease you, almost making you screech if it wasn't for you hiding your face in his neck. "I'll always find you beautiful, sweetheart, no matter the age."
His hand on your hair pulled you back gently to look at him again,
"Likewise, handsome," you smiled at him, gifting him with a kiss before your hands on his chest pushed him down, while you kept yourself up on your knees. As Joel lowered his body, following your directions, you felt his erection tipping with him, nudging the rough spot inside of you, getting a shaky moan from you in return.
Once he was comfortable, you braced yourself with your arms on the sides of his head to hover above him, continuing your make-out session. You felt his hands going down your body, finding their new place on your ass as he held on to it, keeping you still, while started to move his upwards. Having to pull back from the kiss, you released a soft sigh before starting to move against him, meeting his thrusts in the middle.
His grip tightened with his lips on you again, "Fuck, baby," he hissed, slightly picking up the pace. "Ya' gonna' be fuckin' death of me." You loved whenever his deep Texanian accent made an appearance during sex. It just told you, you were doing everything right.
With one last kiss, you pushed yourself up to fully sit on his cock again. He pushed his knees up slightly to give you a makeshift backrest once you started moving your hips faster. His fingers quickly interlaced with yours, giving you something to hold onto as you yanked them closer to you.
"Joel…" you dragged out his name in a hush, getting a groan from him in response.
"You're doing so good sweetheart, keep doing," he encouraged you.
You sat up straight, "Put your legs down," giving him the directions you needed for your next position, sounding almost out of breath. He did as you asked, giving you the room to lean back and hold onto his thighs, opening up your body as a sight to him.
"So good, baby," he moaned out loud as he put his hand to your pussy, after wetting his fingers with his spit, circling them around your clit, making you shake.
"Fuck," you cursed out, sighing along with it as you started moving your hips faster, now with the encouragement of Joel's touch on your sex.
His groans felt your ear, letting you know he wasn't far from his release, just as much as you. You kept moving, bouncing up and down on his erection that kept brushing your walls, letting you feel every vein on his cock.
"Joel, I'm so close," you moaned, which was all he needed to know before he freed his hands from yours, only to bring them back to your ass, lifting you up to change his position. You kept yourself up, taking a few deep breaths, trying to steady your breathing with the small rest you got.
He sat up on his knees, wrapping his arms around you again to lower you back onto the mattress, this time with your head against the comfort of your pillows.
Joel stayed in this position, making sure to keep you as still as possible in the tight hug, as he started snapping his hips against yours. His cock slid easily in and out of you, the wet sounds ringing through your ears as you felt his balls slapping against your ass.
You lifted your arms, your fingers desperately trying to find the headboard to hold onto as you tried to contain yourself from the noise you wanted to make. All you could let out were high-pitched whimpers and gentle moans when you could've easily screamed into his ears with the pleasure that was rushing through your body.
You could feel Joel's fingers digging into your skin, his groans only getting deeper as he attacked your neck, hoping to keep it as quietly as possible. The second orgasm was approaching you rapidly and you wanted to open your mouth to let him know, but all you could make out was,
"I- Jo-" as he kept on hitting just the sight spots inside of you.
He nodded, "I know, baby," breathing heavily against you, "Ya gonna come with me?" Making you nod hastily, "Yeah?" To which you nodded again, a whimper tumbling from your lips.
Your feet started digging into the mattress as the pressure leading you to your release was getting intensely more.
"I-I'm gonna c- fuck, I'm gonna cum," you managed to get out. Joel kept his lips on your neck, gifting you more encouraging words.
"Yeah baby, come with me," was the last thing you needed to hear before he smashed his lips onto yours just at the right time before you could scream your orgasm out into the world. Your fingers tightened around the wood of the headboard as you felt him shoot his cum into you. His groan against your mouth sent vibrations through your body, which was already shaking from the aftermath of your release.
As soon as he pulled back, the two of you shared your heavy breaths, sweaty foreheads pressed against each other, a smile of pleasure decorating both of your faces.
Joel started peppering your face with kisses again, making you chuckle as you still tried to catch your breath, just as well as he still was doing.
"I love you, darlin'," he whispered against your skin as you brought your fingers back to his hair, brushing them to make him look at you.
After placing a loving kiss against his lips, you breathed out, "I love you, babe. I love you a lot."
"A lot?" He chuckled, raising his eyebrows.
You nodded with a smile, "A lot."
With a deep kiss that let you know just what you needed to know, he was back gazing into your eyes, freeing your face from all the small hairs that had made their way to your sweaty forehead, "Well then, I love you a lot too." But you couldn't let him go yet, yanking him towards you for one last, passion-filled kiss, moaning into his mouth as he smirked.
Joel pushed himself back up, slowly sliding his erection out of you, making you shiver, and him chuckle before he walked over to the basket of clean clothes he had yet to put away.
He searched for the clean cloth he remembered throwing in, and once he had found it, he brought it back to bed with him. He was back to hovering above you, continuing your innocent make-out session while he started cleaning up the mix of his and your cum that was dripping out of you. With every swipe, you buckled your hips up uncontrollably, just enjoying the pleasure washing over your body.
After he got done with that, he threw the cloth into the basket for dirty clothing before starting to look for his boxers, standing up on his two feet to pull them up his legs. You crawled over to the edge of the bed, bending down to gather your underwear before looking up at Joel who was standing closer to the clean clothing than you were.
"Can you give me a shirt, please?" Already knowing that you were asking for one of his, he snatched a dark green one and passed it over to you, who had gotten up from the bed, legs still shaky, but you could make it work.
Once you had thrown that over your body, you felt the familiar strong arms wrap around you again, and Joel lowered his head to get another few kisses from you.
"Happy anniversary," he whispered once again.
You smiled against his lips, "Oh, it is a very happy anniversary, babe." When there didn't seem to be a stop to the make-out session he had initiated, you tried to push him away, but he wasn't budging.
"J-Joel," you giggled, "I need to go."
"Where?" He immediately pulled his head back, gazing at you in surprise, but you quickly calmed him with a soft hand on his chest,
"Downstairs to get our clothes. I don't need to traumatise your daughter on the first day of moving in," you freed yourself from his hug, "And then I have to take a shower."
As you passed him, he couldn't let go of the opportunity to get a hold of your ass, squeezing it, getting a screech from you in response. You were quick to turn around and hit him on the upper arm, making him flinch away with a smirk.
"Joel!" You hissed at him, motioning for him to be quiet.
He raised his arms, "You're the one being so loud," earning himself a death glare from you, but it only made his grin wider.
His eyes followed your form as you left the room before he let himself drop down onto the bed. He ran a hand over his face, not even caring to hide the smile that just didn't seem to go away.
You were officially moved in. From today on, he'd wake up next to you every single day. Sarah and he would have you by their side every afternoon after work. He'd be able to pick you up and bring you both home. Together. He knew now the pressure of the next step in your relationship would be approaching quicker, but he decided to put that thought aside and focus on the present - and on your footsteps that were coming back up.
Joel laughed to himself as he got back up, on his way to join you in the bathroom for round two - after all, he had promised you hours.
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joel taglist: @corvusmorte
pedro taglist: @leslieelainetrask
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zerobaselove · 11 months
Text
calling zb1 by their full names
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pairing: zb1 x reader
genre: fluff
warning: hanbin calls reader m'lady jokingly, nothing else that i can think of? lowercase intended, not proofread.
notes: i've been in a bit of a slump recently but this was just so cute i couldn't not write it (even if it took some time) so i hope it's okay!
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members under the cut!
jiwoong ;
it wasn't often that your boyfriend jiwoong got overly clingy, but it was even less often that it happened while you were trying to work. like usual, you had left your paper until the last day and you were trying to get it done at a timely pace, not wanting to spend your night hunched over your laptop with a cup of coffee to keep you company throughout the night.
but jiwoong insisted on having your attention; he was just trying to get you to take a much needed break. he could tell you were getting restless in the same spot, and that couldn't be good for your quality of work. "c'mon darling, just a five minute break." he suggested, tugging on your arm lightly as he took note of your bouncing leg.
"kim jiwoong." you deadpanned, not upset or anything, just frustrated with your paper and lack of time management skills. you didn't mean to come off harsh so you considered quickly apologizing, until you saw your boyfriend with a playful grin on his face, and before you could ask why, his mouth was opening.
"might as well get used to saying my last name," he grabbed your hand with his, playing with your fingers momentarily, "especially since one day it'll be yours too." you couldn't help the blush that creeped up on your face as you finally shut your laptop for a moment, turning to face the bold boy you had grown to love.
"kim jiwoong, you really are something else."
zhang hao ;
you and zhang hao often found yourselves sitting in a comfortable silence; sometimes accompanied by the faint hum of the tv or a quiet melody playing from the speakers as you each did your own things. zhang hao had found himself a comfy spot in the corner of the couch, glasses perched on his nose with a blanket wrapped over his legs and a book in hand, and you were scrolling through whatever interested you on your phone.
you had seen some sort of trend going on— people calling their partners by their full names as opposed to the usual go-to pet names, and you couldn't help yourself. you had to try.
"hey zhang hao," you started, looking up at the boy who immediately pulled his eyes from the story in front of him, a look of concern on his face. he couldn't help it though; that was out of character for you, and he knew if he had done something you'd just tell him. you two were good like that. so he immediately assumed something was up with you, "everything okay, my love?"
his concern was cute, you couldn't lie. his caring nature always made your heart flutter, especially in times like this where he is just being overly cautious. in your moment of silence he had gotten up, bringing his blanket with you as he sat beside you and draped it over both your legs, asking if you wanted to talk about anything.
"oh lovely," you started, a smile pulling at your lips, "i just wanted to see how you'd react, it's a trend of some sort." he only laughed and shook his head, "well now you're stuck with me here, i'm not moving back over there."
hanbin ;
in an attempt to have a cute couple bonding moment, you and your boyfriend hanbin had decided it would be a good idea to try and bake something together. he insisted it would go great, but now that he had flicked flour at you, you were seeing his real motive.
"sung hanbin," you put your hands on your hips, voice stern yet still playful; you weren't sure how seriously he could take you when you had a white handprint on your cheek and flour dusting your shirt. "y/n," he teased, standing up straight and giving you a small bow. the two of you stood there for a moment exchanging mischievous looks before hanbin extended his hand out, "may i have this dance, m'lady." it was only then that you took note of the slow song fading in over the speakers.
deciding to drop your act, and opt in on his, you took his hand graciously, "i'd be honored."
it was times like this that you were thankful for your boyfriend's extensive dance training as he took the lead with ease, slowly dancing around the kitchen with you in his arms, breaking into fits of laughter every once in a while. with little to no warning hanbin had spun you, resulting in a less than gracious whip around from you before he dipped you slightly with his arm on the small of your back.
the two of you pulled away giggling as he brought his hand up to caress your cheek, "you have something here," he laughed, lightly wiping the flour off your cheek, "hmm, i wonder who did that."
matthew ;
"hi baby," matthew smiled, pulling you into a hug as he walked through the door. you quickly were enveloped by his scent and warmth as you relaxed into his touch, "hi matthew," you said simply.
you hadn't thought much about your words, but it seems the lack of a pet name really caught your boyfriend off guard, a pout quickly replacing his bright smile. "matthew? just matthew?" he questioned, almost in disbelief. sure he was being a little dramatic, but he thought he had every reason to be. "hmph," he crossed his arms, turning away from you, "i see how it is."
you couldn't help but laugh at your boyfriend's childish, yet endearing antics. it was one of the many things you loved about him. "how what is?" you tried to coax a confession out of him, just to see if he was feeling stubborn or not. your question was quickly answered as you were met with silence. as much as you thought this side of matthew was entertaining, you really just wanted to see his smile again.
you placed a quick peck on his cheek and he immediately softened at the gesture; his arms fell to his sides before wrapped around your waist, preventing you from escaping too far which caused you to smile. "all better?" you questioned, looking up at the boy.
"depends," he hummed, playing with the hem of your shirt, "are you gonna call me matthew again?" as much as you wanted to play along a bit longer, you really missed your boyfriend and just wanted to spend time with him, "you're so cute baby," you cooed, watching his face heat up at the nickname.
"better."
taerae ;
you had been looking forward to today all week— you and taerae had planned a picnic date now that the weather was warming up and you were thrilled. you couldn't think of a better way to spend the afternoon; sat on a blanket with your boyfriend eating snacks and chatting and watching people pass by as you made conversation.
you had told taerae to meet you there, giving you the perfect opportunity to set everything up before you watched him walk across the field of your local park. "hi my sunshine," he beamed as you got up to hug his taller frame
"hi taerae~" you dragged out the last syllable which caused him to smile at the cute mannerism. he brought his hand up to ruffle your hair, "i like the way you say my name," it was your turn to smile, a blush rising to your cheeks as you repeated his name a few more times.
this time he took your hand in his as you both walked back to the nicely laid out blanket in the grass, "c'mon now, don't wear it out."
the two of you got comfortable on the ground, enjoying the sunny day and slight breeze that went by. at some point you found yourself with your head in taerae's lap as his hands carded through your hair, and there is nowhere you'd rather be.
ricky ;
you were always impressed with your boyfriend's language capabilities; his fluency in multiple languages always stunned you, but even more so now that you were trying to learn a language yourself. you felt bad that ricky was always accommodating to you, and so, behind his back, you had begun learning chinese a little while ago. and it was not an easy task, to say the least.
you spent all your free time studying, and while you hadn't gotten far in conversational skills, you had figured out one thing— how to confess to the boy. sure, you had professed your love for him on multiple occasions, but this would be special, a sign of your affection in his mother tongue. and so as you sat there next to your boyfriend one evening, you thought it would be a good time to practice.
taking a deep breath and trying to remember the correct tones, you attempted the confession, "shen quanrui, wǒ xǐ huān nǐ," you managed to stutter your way through, much less smoothly than you had practiced, but you managed. you tried to read the expression on your face to see if you had said it correctly, but before you knew it he was cupping your face and pressing a kiss to your lips.
"so you understood me?" you questioned, a small smile tugging at your lips. soon enough the boy was spewing back responses in chinese, faster than you could keep up with at your very basic skill level. "woah woah, slow down, i'm not that good yet." you chuckled.
"well you've got yourself a new tutor then," he smiled, pulling you into his side, "god i love you." he mumbled, more so to himself than you. but you were just glad he got the message.
gyuvin ;
"kim gyuvin," you sighed, shaking your head at the state you had found your boyfriend in. you had only left him alone for a few minutes, but by the time you had come back he had somehow managed to cover himself in the paints spread out on the palette; at this point he had more paint on him than you had gotten on the canvas.
you had run to the other room for just a moment, needing to grab your bag with a couple extra paint brushes to finish up your painting for your art class. gyuvin had insisted earlier in the day to keep you company while you painted, and it was appreciated. but you could tell he was getting antsy just sitting there, and you supposed that's how he ended up looking like a kindergartener's finger painting.
"y/n," he mocked back, a playful tone accompanying his hands on his hips as he looked at you with a smlie. "i'd like to think i'm much prettier than your painting." he gestured to his frame, highlighting the paint that he had seemed to trip into. "maybe if you gave me attention i wouldn't have run around and tripped." his matter-of-fact tone made a laugh escape your lips.
"is that what the problem is?" you paused as he made his way closer to you, "you're covered in paint don't you dare," your threat was empty, but you tried reasoning with him regardless. "call me a cute name again then, my name isn't as fun."
you sighed, attempting to hold him at an arms length as his lips were comically puckered up. "yeah yeah, my cutie lovely sweet boyfriend, if you come near me with your wet paint covered body, we are gonna have problems." he carefully placed a kiss on your cheek, managing to not get you covered, "good enough for now."
gunwook ;
"gunwook c'mere," you called your boyfriend over to the couch that you had gotten quite comfy on, wanting to spend some time with your boyfriend. you didn't see the pout plastered on his face until he sat down next to you, his eyes looking like that of a lost puppy.
"not even wook?" it took you a few moments to realize what he meant by the question before connecting the dots— you hadn't called him a cute nickname like normal, and now he was sat next to you sulking as if it were the end of the world. and god was it ever cute.
you cleared your throat for a moment as you shook your head, "silly me," you started, catching his attention, "i forgot the most important part," you grabbed his hand, giving it a tight squeeze, "my gunwook!" you enthused, watching the smile spread across his cheek wider than you had ever seen.
that seemed to make everything better in his world as his cheeks flushed a light pink and he brought his free hand up to cover his mouth for a moment before composing himself enough to respond.
"my y/n!" he matched your energy, pulling you impossibly closer into his side, as if to claim you as his own. but you were his, and he was yours. and you wouldn't have it any other way, at least not when he's as cute as he is.
yujin ;
you and your best friend yujin had a tradition; it might not seem like much, but it had become routine for the two of you to spend your nights in the summer laid out in his backyard, watching the stars and chatting about whatever came to your mind. random thoughts or worries, really whatever plagued your mind.
you hadn't thought much about the words leaving your mouth, that was the joy about being with your best friend. you wrapped up your aimless question, "but i mean, who cares right? i have you yujin." you said simply, turning to the boy, only to see a sad look in his eyes. "what's wrong?" you reached out, resting your hand on top of his.
"you called me yujin," he mumbled, barely audible past the pout across his lips. you couldn't hide the confusion on your face, so you had to press a little more, "but, that's your name?" you were simply thinking aloud at this point, not quite grasping the boy's point yet.
the pout didn't leave his lips despite your obvious remark, "am i not your jinnie anymore?" you couldn't help but smile at the boy's innocent confession, "oh yujin," you started, turning to prop yourself on your arm and face him, "you'll always be my jinnie."
"okay good," he let out a sigh of relief, feeling the quickly approaching weight on his chest subside, "and you'll always be my y/n, right?" you simply nodded, giving the boy the confirmation he needed before turning back to admire the stars in the sky— he'd always be your jinnie, as long as the stars shined in the sky.
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wonysugar · 3 months
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Heyyy this is my first time requesting something
Imagine gamergf! Sakura, who is always gaming and doesn’t gives attention to reader, so one day reader sneaks into sakura’s gaming room and kneels in front of her, kkura doesn’t even notices her presence until she feels how now her pussy is exposed, reader who starts to eat her out while she’s playing, begging reader to stop overstimulating her
cw: somnophilia, cnc (boundaries discussed beforehand ofc), bondage and overstimming (so begging!)
sakura was exhausted as fuck... originally just getting on her computer and playing geometry dash to pass the time but having it being quickly turned into an intense gaming session, as per usual, her eyes glued to the screen until like what.. two am at this point? btw doing allat while only wearing a tank top and panties because let her live anyways moving on
she just cannot for the life of her pass this godforsaken level and she's sick of it; being an incredibly competitive person, she couldn't bare backing down. she was gonna pass that level, even if it took the whole night.
you, on the other hand, have been trying to get her attention throughout the whole day. look, you loved your girlfriend, she was loving, caring, everything you could possibly want. but one thing you knew she wasn't good with; giving you attention whenever she was focused on something else. if you tried texting her, she wouldn't even see the notif. if you tried coming in her room and starting a conversation, she would give back short responses. it was difficult, if not impossible.
long story short, you were incredibly needy, and you were ready to do anything to get her to pay attention to you.
the discouraging words "attempt 1553" displaying on her screen as it lit up the dark room that she was in, her eyes fighting what felt like an invisible force that was desperately trying to close them shut. throwing her head back, she sighed exasperatedly, almost dozing off. a small break wouldn't hurt, she told herself.
yeah no, no matter how hard she tried fighting her own drowsiness, the chair was so comfy, she couldn't help but eventually give up and close her eyes. she was eepy, if you will.
and eep did she do!
what she didn't know, though, is that she was sooo incredibly tired that she didn't even notice you walking into her room and strapping her to her chair. poor bby was just sooo tired and unaware. :((
when she went to rub her eyes, she quickly realized that her hands were restrained, she noticed you under her desk and immediately looked lost, what were you doing there? suddenly, she felt the slight vibration in between her legs, already giving her sleepy brain somewhat of an idea "mmh.. love..? w-what are you doing—"
"i'm gonna untie one of your hands so you can play and win this level, okay? if you don't, i'm not letting you cum, as simple as that. also, i unplugged your headphones; i wanna make sure you won’t be lying when you'll say that you won."
"couldn't we have just— mmh— done this in bed..?" she asks, stumbling on her words as she tried to keep her eyes open.
you scoffed at her words, mocking her "do you really think i'd go to this length if you actually paid attention to me throughout the day? you seemed soo committed to passing this level, i can't just take that away from you, can i?"
she furrowed her eyebrows in guilt as she looked down at you, avoiding your gaze once her eyes started tearing up. was it the drowsiness, the sudden culpability she felt when she figured out why you were doing this, or the pleasure her clit was throbbing for?
she didn't know, she felt like she didn't know anything at that moment.
you took away the vibrator to pull down her only piece of lower clothing, her underwear. upon taking it off, you watched as the slick of her cunt stuck to the fabric of her panties, smirking at the sight. looking up at her and noticing her hard nipples through her thin tanktop. she was barely even awake and she was already this needy for you?
"slut." you spit out, making her whine in the process.
after untying one of her hands, the rest of the night turns into you pressing your favorite vibrator against her clit as you ate her out, hearing her desperate moans and cries of pleasure mixed with the, quite frankly, unserious geometry dash music coming from her speakers as she desperately tried winning. and whenever her noises got louder and her breathing got heavier? you simply took away all the sensation from her, denying her orgasm as you made her twitch with anticipation as she whined..
and the need to constantly remind her, "keep your eyes on the screen and hand on the keyboard, i'm not gonna keep repeating myself, sakura." whenever she pathetically begged you to let her cum, staring at you as tears fell from her eyes, she was just so desperate to cum :((
eventually, after like, 3 hours, she managed to pass the level. holding onto your promise, you untied her limbs and ate her out, licking all of her folds and sucking on her clit until she finished all over your tongue and lips, gripping your head and pushing you closer to her wet core. you were certain that your neighbors would have a word with you the next day the way she was screaming out your name, blabbering sleepy nonsense as she came undone under your touch :((
long story short, she slept incredibly well after you carried her to bed that night. <3
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thatisnotagoodswamp · 7 months
Text
I'm really mystified by people taking away from season 2 that Pike is a terrible boyfriend to Batel. Their relationship needs work and could be healthier, but it's nowhere near toxic.
In real life, the people I know who act like Pike are people who have been hurt by bad relationships in the past and are trying hard to catch up to a partner who's in a healthier place. Many times it's the woman who is in Pike's shoes, conditioned by someone else to be afraid of stating strong opinions, being conflict avoidant to the point of dishonesty because in close relationships safety is more important than happiness, feeling guilty when the other person does nice things for you, unconsciously sabotaging the relationship when the intimacy starts to feel scary, and not feeling safe enough to disclose major trauma even when you know it's going to impact the relationship further down the road. (Side note: you can end up that way from relationships with your parents too, so it's interesting they chose this season to reveal that Pike had a bad relationship with his father that still bothers him.)
Maybe people aren't immediately recognizing that dynamic in this relationship because he's a man and she's a woman, but to me it looks exactly like normal growing pains when one person in the relationship hasn't had a healthy relationship before (which we know is the case with Pike because Una told us so) and hasn't learned yet how to give and take in a normal way and behave like their partner is not a danger. That kind of growth doesn't happen overnight. It can take months or years of work. And Pike is clearly trying. He listens when Batel has criticisms, apologizes for his mistakes, and tries to do better. To me that makes him a good boyfriend, even though he's still struggling with some of the basics. Being willing to listen and grow for your partner's sake is more than half the battle.
Marie seems to have a more healthy expectation for relationships and doesn't always know what to do with Chris. She seems to assume his behaviors are measured choices instead of a reflex based on past experiences, so she interprets them in a harsher light than is warranted (or maybe that's some insecurity or past bad experiences on her side, too). The one that stuck out most to me was her confronting him about "lying," which was technically true but also the least compassionate way to characterize someone who doesn't feel safe voicing their opinions in a relationship. Saying that your partner lied to you implies intentional deceit, usually with the intent to manipulate or gain control or hide something bad from you. A partner who lies to you in that way is a bad partner. A partner who has good intentions and wants to meet your needs but is still in the process of recognizing and growing out of their emotionally unhealthy people-pleasing patterns is not the same thing at all.
Since Disco 2.1, Pike has been praised as a model of non-toxic masculinity because of his emotional intelligence. I don't think this character arc betrays that. I think it's showing us the process of building emotional intelligence and relationship skills. Pike in his non-romantic relationships, as a friend and a captain, is the ideal of emotionally mature masculinity. He's like when Star Trek shows us a utopia and says, "See how great that is? Aim for that." The Pike we see in private with a girlfriend is still working on himself, trying hard to develop emotional maturity in an area of his life that he's neglected until now. That's like the parts of Star Trek that show us the messy process of confronting the bigotries and barbarisms we need to identify and address before we can actually get to utopia.
If Pike is going to be this stellar model for men looking for a guide about how to be emotionally mature, I think it's great that they're giving us a window into how he gets there, step by painful step. Because an ideal that seems too far away for people who have suffered a lot of pain and betrayal isn't any good in helping us become better. A model who walks the road realistically can give you courage to face the next apology, the next hard conversation, or the next risky chance to open your heart instead of closing it off. My hot take is that Pike, fumbling around trying to be a better boyfriend and being messy and embarrassing to watch but actually listening and improving his behavior, is exactly the hero we need.
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crabonfire · 1 month
Text
sick mercs (1/3)
characters: offense class
warnings: none, fluff and crack (I think)
note: I hate making things into parts BUUTTT pyros ALONE ended up being super long, so I'm making them based off of class!! and...its 2 am so I should probably be asleep instead of writing anyway. Parts 2 and 3 will feature the other classes, and will be written tomorrow! Cause its late and I'm tired! okay love u
no but why did I make pyros so long 😭 it was a whole fic wtf
reposts and shares appreciated (u///u)<3
♡Scout♡
•When he's sick he's SUPPPERRR dramatic over it cause when he was a kid his ma was super doting and stuff, and since he was the youngest it made sense. But with you he tries to be all suave and tough, not wanting to admit the fever he has is absolutely killing him, oh the runny nose he has? That's just cause...he...ate something spicy. Not cause of a flu, no...
•He makes an effort to not talk or see the team at all today, and weirdly, he only ever gets sick on ceasefire days. It's like his body isn't used to not doing anything and that gives him a chance to do a bunch of stupid stuff, that, in the end, gets him sick.
•So he's stuck in his room. When you or anyone else knock on his door he pretends he's asleep, and sometimes, he really is. But, when you catch him in the kitchen stealing one of Heavy's sandwiches, he's sniffling, his face slightly red (redder than usual) his expression one like a kicked puppy.
•When you confront him about it, he just acts like he's not sick.
"I'm not sick, okay?"
But when you put your foot down, getting him back to bed and getting the right medicine from the medic, he has this certain look on his face. His cheeks are red, probably because of his fever, but, it might also be caused by you.
The moment your voice turns soft, or stern, depending on how kind you wanna be to his stubbornness, his lips curl into a grin, and immediately he whines and melts, acting like his sickness is the end of the world.
"Ah, my head...ohhhh my head. Hurts so bad. Maybe if ya kiss it...I'll feel better." He says, his voice weak as he closes his eyes, shifting in bed like some sort of damsel in distress.
• He'd be real obedient as you give him medicine and stuff, and stare up at you with bright eyes, as if the little fucker wasn't acting so brave about it before. The moment anyone walks in or sees him being doted, he'll push you away (maybe even physically, in panic) cause he's scared to ruin his reputation.
But when they're gone, he'll apologize and cling to you like a parasite. Muttering and mumbling incoherent things for your attention. He's an ass, but he loves you.
• He'd always tell you how much he appreciates you as you stay by his side, his very dizzy and sick brain making him slur his words, that cheeky grin still plastered on his face.
"You care about me...haha."
"You're so sweet, you love me, don't you?"
You know how some people get super weird and sorta high when they're super sick? Yeah that's scout with you.
♡Soldier♡
• Like Scout, absolutely DENIES that he's sick.
"SICKNESS AND DISEASE IS MERELY A HOAX! AN EXCUSE CREATED BY COMMUNISTS TO SPREAD THEIR LIES ABOUT AMERICAN- ACHOO-"
• Entire day there's a gigantic frown on his face, he cannot stop sneezing. He sneezed on Scout, and Scout was convinced that he was gonna die.
Engineer is the first to speak up after seeing the soldier violently sneeze without closing his nose. But, his stubbornness gets in the way and he merely brushes him off. Then, half the team begs you to talk to him. So you do.
"Hey Soldier, uh, you...you're looking a little pale."
"PALE? WELL, I GUESS MY SKIN HAS BEEN LOOKING GOOD TODAY!"
You chuckled, "No, pale in a bad way. And I notice you've been sneezing a bunch, are you feeling okay? Did you catch a cold?"
He frowns, and yet again, denies any accusation that he's sick. It doesn't take long, though, when you convince him to stay in his room (or yours, which he'd prefer) so you could "surprise" him. He takes that as an invitation for something else and was a little disappointed when he realized it was a trick to get him to rest.
"Wait...THIS IS A TRAP! YOU'VE TRAPPED ME! HELP-"
He starts to yell as you take his helmet off. You simply laugh, placing it nearby. "Yeah. I trapped you, and now, I order you to stay in bed while I go get some medicine. Am I clear?"
He scoffs at your command. "And what if I DON'T stay?" He remarked, you frowned. "Then you'll be disappointing all the...Americans that spent so much time curating and- crafting the very medication that keeps us healthy."
You made that shit up on the spot, but you knew whenever you spoke to him like a commander did, he'd always listen. He thought about it for a moment and grumbled in reply;
"Fine."
• He does as you ask, staying completely still in bed, staring up at the ceiling with a frown, occasionally muttering things to himself as if this very action is the worst thing in the world. When you come back, tray in hand with medicine and a glass of water, his expression softens slightly.
You sit down on the bed, he sits up, and as you hand him the medicine, something warm grows in his chest. He stays silent as he takes the medicine reluctantly, before he stares at you with an unreadable expression.
You smile ask what's wrong but he shakes his head. A big grin appears on his face as he realizes something and he chuckles, but he doesn't tell you what he's thinking about.
"Thanks, cupcake."
• You take care of him, keeping a watch on him for a while as you beg him to get some rest for his cold. He agrees but only if you stay with him, and you do. He holds you tightly as he braves through his cold, head nuzzled in your shoulder as your treated like a Teddy bear.
He felt happy. Someone cared for him, and he didn't know why, but that realization made his heart feel full. Not the type of full he'd usually feel after a hard victory, or the type of full he'd feel after messing around with demoman all day, but a type of full he could feel only with you. He really cared for you, and he was honored you cared for him just as much.
♡Pyro♡
• You could honestly never tell pyro was sick. Sometimes they'd spend days with you as normal, very much sick, but they'd never show it. That's also because they had a strong immune system, and only got sick every couple of years or so.
The one time they've ever gotten sick around you, was during the hottest day in Teufort. Everyone was sweating their asses off, so you could imagine how bad it was for them. Having to be around fire, wearing a heavy, thick, fire retardant suit all day? Oh, it was bad.
They sat at the locker room for longer after battle had ended, seemingly staring off into the distance. Everyone else had left, so did you. But when they didn't come out for an hour or so you checked in on them, visibly worried.
"Pi? You okay?"
You saw them, still sitting in the same bench, looking off into the ground. You walked over to them, placing a hand on their shoulder. They jolted, as if awoken from a deep sleep. They turned their head, their breathing was loud in the quiet room, but it was heavy and ragged. You frowned in worry.
"What's wrong?"
• They muffled something even you couldn't understand, their voice was quiet, before they shook their head and got up. They almost stumbled, but you kept their balance. They leaned their head on your shoulder, and you could feel the heavy breaths they exhaled through their mask. You turned to them, placing a hand on their shoulder.
"It's a hot day, huh? Can't be feeling too good especially in that suit of yours."
They mumbled in reply, and you took that as a sign that they must've been real affected by the heat today. "Lets get you to your room, I'll get you a nice cold glass of water, okay?"
• You headed back to their room, allowing them to sit for a bit as you went and got some ice cold water. You sat by, the door locked as they lifted off their mask to take a sip. You could feel the heat they radiated, even from a short distance.
"Pi, I think you might have a fever."
They chugged down the water, before turning to you, lifting their mask back down. They went quiet for a moment before they nodded. You frowned, "Why didn't you say anything?" They shrugged, shaking their head. "Mmh mmhf mmh mmh mmhf mmhf mm mmhf." (I didn't think I was sick at first.)
You sighed, before humming. "I'll go get some medicine, you should probably lie down- maybe take the suit off first. I won't look if it'll make you uncomfortable." You stared at them, waiting for their response. They paused hesitantly, before nodding.
• When you got back, they were in bed, gas mask still on, but now in their tank top and unicorn themed shorts. They didn't show their body often, as they felt insecure of the scars they had. When they saw you, they pulled the blanket up to their chest, which you didn't comment on.
You walked over with a large bottle of water and some medicine, placing it on a nearby table.
"Medic said you just need some rest and a lot of water, so...don't forget to drink."
You didn't quite know what to do with the pyro. They were quiet, which, to you wasn't that unusual. But you could feel the nervousness, and you felt worried, as they didn't seem too good. They murmured a "thank you," staring up at you as you sit by them.
"Do you want me to leave?"
In truth, you didn't want to, and they didn't want you to either. But you didn't want to make them uncomfortable, as the only other times they've showed their body to you were in intimate situations. You didn't want to overwhelm them, but you wanted to take care of them. They shook their head, before mumbling;
"Mm mmhn mmhf mm mmhh mmhf mm mmhn mmhnf mmh." (You don't have to stay if you don't want to.)
"I'll stay for a bit. You need your rest and.. I wanna make sure you're okay."
That sentence could make them melt if the heat wasn't already doing that to them. They let out a hoarse giggle. You always made them swoon, even if the things you said weren't overly romantic. It always meant a lot to them, as they never really had someone who cared.
That noise always made you smile, as you stared down at them. It was silent for a while as you two looked at each other. Even under the mask you could tell they had a smile. You've only ever seen that smile once, and the thought of it makes your heart race. You soon broke the silence, slowly getting up.
"Drink your meds and get some sleep, okay?
• As you left, they couldn't help but smile. They got up to lock the door, before taking off their mask and flopping into bed. Not forgetting to do as you said, they fall fast asleep with you on their mind.
Even in their dreams your their, and even with this small, common gesture of caring for them, they cant help but feel a bit weak in the knees when they think of you. They thought the engineer was sweet, but you? They should call you sugar.
It was the first time they had someone worry so much, the way you frowned at them made their chest tighten, and weirdly, in a reaffirming way. In a way that made them realize they weren't so bad, and they were capable of being cared for.
Maybe they were getting too into it, but they didn't care.
♡♡♡♡
I did not expect pyros to be long. Like I was writing and suddenly as I was looking back I realized how much I was yapping. Shit. Anyway, defense and support classes will be written by tomorrow, probably the one or both. Yay!
130 notes · View notes
Note
How would each guy in your WWE masterlist react to Reader doing the "Ignoring my boyfriend/husband for 24 hours prank" 😀
Oh boy 😂
Here we go:
Cody Rhodes
Cody would worry immediately
as much as he'd try and focus on his match, he would be so anxious
this man would call and text you at least four times an hour
he'd be up all night wondering what he did wrong
but
when you finally call him and explain, he's relieved
a little upset
but relieved nonetheless
LA Knight
pissed off
not at you, at himself
his insecurities hit him like a freight train
tries to fight through it and sweat it off
can't help but worry
asks if anyone else has heard from you
his heart nearly breaks when everyone he asks says they've heard from you or seen you
but at the same time he's happy you're safe
when you finally reach out to him, he's relieved
Logan Paul
he knows
but he plays along
after a few hours, he starts documenting it
he's got plenty to distract himself
but during the low parts of the day, he can't help but wonder if you're actually mad at him
a message from you after exactly 24 hours has passed certainly gives him relief
Austin Theory
oooooo he's not happy
and when austin's not happy, he goes quiet
he is stressed out
is a "two can play at that game" kind of guy
so he ignores you too
there's a small fight after the 24 hours are over
he's a mix of emotions - he's happy nothing's wrong but he's still a bit upset about being ignored for a day
Grayson Waller
on the inside? hurt
on the outside? pretending to be fine
he's not his usual bubbly self
and everyone notices
austin tries to get through to him, but grayson doesn't say much
tries to distract himself, but nothing works
stomach is in knots all day
aldis sidelines him for the night - citing that it's because he can't get his head together enough and doesn't want to see him hurt
which turns out to be a good thing
because when he returns to his locker room, he finds you waiting for him
very relieved and happy to see you
JD McDonagh
panics
(pls don't make funko pop panic)
asks everyone where you are
they all think something's wrong because nobody's ever seen him so worked up before
when someone slips and tells him where you are, he goes straight to you
safe to say you don't make it the full 24 hours
Finn Balor
overwhelmed after the first few hours
tries to focus on his routine, but can't help but wonder what went wrong
your posts on social media during the day comfort him
he wants to give you your space but also sends messages throughout the day so you know he's always thinking of you
feels way more relaxed when you tell him it was just a prank and everything's fine
Randy Orton
takes it to heart
he tries not to show it
he gets stuck in his head about it
doesn't take it lightly
but is relieved to hear that all is well and it was just a prank
Damian Priest
honestly doesn't notice for a little while
then after somebody asks him where you are, he realizes he hasn't heard from you all morning
gives you some space for a while, but sends you a few messages throughout the day
but it really hits him when he doesn't get his good luck kiss before his match
a few minutes before he's supposed to go out, you come running into gorilla
"I'm sorry it was a prank, but I couldn't let you go out there without the good luck kiss"
this man turns RED he's blushing so much
gets his good luck kiss
CM Punk
pouts
is in a bad mood all day
he's got the whole cloud-over-head thing going on
when you finally tell him, he rolls his eyes
and sits on it for a minute
then he pulls you onto his lap without a word
"don't pull that shit again, i don't like not talking to you"
Jey Uso
like a lost puppy
he tries to distract himself in the gym or hanging out with cody
"i just miss her, uce"
his whole mood changes when the 24 hours are over
100% back to himself
even a bit better
he goes out that night so happy, big smile on his face
58 notes · View notes
mushroommanstan · 10 months
Note
For your creepy Tenko series I'm totally the type of person to go up to him and try to fact check. Like I would see this guy being bullied get concerned and try to be his friend. Oh boy him dealing with a woman who discovers that he did something that was not his fault as a child and he's been tormented ever since yeah no I would be his friend... Then totally fall for him. You just made him far too precious!
Fact check
College au Tenko
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As usual, people whispered and heckled quietly as he walked by in the halls. It was annoying for sure, but he had to admit, if there was one thing good about being a social pariah it’s that people always clear a path for you. And considering how crowded the halls get, it comes in handy.
So after so many years of not having to watch where he was going, I guess he couldn’t be blamed when he bumped into you, falling onto his ass with a “oof”. There were a few gasps from the audience, stilling and waiting to see if you would melt into a pile of rushed apologies like any normal person.
“Watch it asshole!”
Almost everyone erupted with a chorus of “oooooooo” like they were elementary school kids watching a classmate being taken out into the hall. He rolled his eyes at their exaggeration, picking himself back up and dusting off his pants before turning to you, still expecting an apology or something even though it was clearly his fault.
The friends you were gabbing with all took a step back from you, leaving you to unknowingly face this demon alone.
You recognized him almost immediately, not by his actual appearance but from the way people would describe certain attributes about him. Jet black poofy hair, blood red eyes, cracks and scars littering his face, yep, that’s the guy. Although you had to admit seeing him in person you realized you had imagined him all wrong. People would describe his features like they were telling a ghost story but in reality he was pretty… cute.
“Oh, you must be Shimura right? I’ve heard about you, nice to meet you in person.” You stuck your hand out, inviting him for a handshake to which he just raised an eyebrow at you in disbelief. Really? This is a joke right? You’re asking him for a handshake.
Apathetically, he shook your hand, his unkept fingernails and scratchy skin poking out from under his gloves making you wince a little. His face didn’t change from his disbelieving, mildly annoyed grimace, as if he was saying “are you this stupid” with his eyes.
“So…” you started, playing with your fingers a little bit. “Is it true you… uh… killed people. Like that’s obviously a rumor right?”
He sighed. “Wow, straight to the punch huh? Alright, yes, I did kill people. Quite a few. Happy?”
Your face dropped. That was not the answer you were expecting. Before you figured they were just batshit crazy rumors that would make for a good icebreaker you two could laugh about. I mean, there’s no way any self respecting college would let him in! But….
“Oh. Oh, my god.” You started, your face turning to an expression more familiar to him. “And so, the stuff about you bringing a hand… to…”
Before you could finish your sentence he had already brought it out, wiggling the limp grey appendage in front of your face as people gagged and screamed around you, evacuating and giving you two some privacy.
You were utterly speechless. “I…but…c-can I ask why? Why you…”
He put father back in his pocket and stuck his pinky finger in his ear, looking away from you disrespectfully as he wiped his eardrums with his nails. “You have the internet. Just look up “Tenko Shimura Killer” and you’ll have all the information you need. Can I go now? I gotta get to class and I don’t feel like explaining to the professor how I got caught up in a surprise interrogation.”
Rather rudely, he lightly shoved you out of the way, making you huff. What an asshole! What a rude… intriguing asshole. Hmmm…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You weren’t expecting so many results to pop up. Whenever normal people search up their names there’s only like one result, maybe two of you’re lucky, but this guy has to have thousands. News reports, sympathy blogs, theorizers, interviews, so, so many interviews. You were actually able to learn a surprising amount from just a single news article, and found he might not be as black and white as you thought.
Yes, he did kill people. But as you came to found out, it was indisputably accidental, something that, from the rumors you’ve heard at the college, has been coming back haunt him for years in the form of unrelenting harassment.
After some digging, you were even able to find a recording of an interrogation he had to go through when he was just a little kid.
(Static buzz + crying)
Cop 1: can you tell us where your family is?
(Silence apart from crying)
Cop 2: Tenko?
Tenko: H-help me… please
Cop 2: That’s what we’re trying to do bud. We just gotta know if you have any living relatives.
(Crying intensifies)
Tenko: …please, you have to help me… I’m sorry!
Cop 1: sorry for what? I don’t have all day shit stain! Now where the hell are your parents?
Cop 2: Jesus Christ Mitch he’s just a little kid!
Cop 1: a little kid who’s wasted half an hour of our time with his “I’m sorry”s and “help me”s. It’s getting old, and we need answers.
Cop 2: he just doesn’t seem to be in the right frame of mind for this. We should call it a night and try it again tomorrow.
Cop 1: like hell we are. He’s not spending another night at the station. Now tell me kid, where! Are! Your! Parents!
Tenko: I KILLED THEM!!!
(Silence)
Tenko: I’m so sorry, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to I’m sorry!
Cop 2: Jesus
(Sound of person vomiting)
Cop 1: oh god fucking damn it.
End of recording.
You went pale hearing this. He sounded young, too young, and you could feel his despairing sobs nearly breaking your heart in two. Holy hell, oh, just oh my god. That poor bastard! How could people say such terrible things about him when he’s already been through so much!
Under the article, you saw a Reddit post titled “Tenko Shimura harasses hot student, creep gonna creep”, in which someone took a picture of your encounter that day, with him waving the hand in your face. The comments, good lord the comments, they just made you cry even harder.
You shut your laptop. It probably wasn’t your business to meddle in but you didn’t care, you were gonna do what you could to make his life less hellish. He’s been through enough.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You waited for him in the halls, this time with your eyes trained on the door as you purposefully stand in what would soon be his way. People almost questioned you, almost, but the fierce look of determination in your eyes and your tense stance told them this was not their fight. Didn’t stop them from waiting around in the background though, wanting to see just what you’ll do.
You didn’t know how, but even though you were looking right at the door he still managed to go unnoticed, seemingly camouflaging himself amongst the other students. You only noticed him when he was just about to pass by you, when his hair fluttered and for just a moment his striking red eyes were visible, seemingly glowing from the dark clothing and hair.
You caught his wrist as he passed, and everyone watching tensed. He turned around immediately muttering “who the fuck-“ before you pulled him in for a hug.
He let out a shocked gasp, struggling in your hold as he thought you were attacking him or something.
“I’m so sorry Tenko, I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” You whimpered meekly into his chest. He stopped struggling, not having heard that from someone that wasn’t a hero in front of a news camera.
He patted your back awkwardly as he felt his hoodie moisten, realizing you were crying on him… for him. “There there?”
He hadn’t actually expected you to look him up. Maybe skim a few pictures or scroll through Reddit sure but from the looks of you it seems you did more research than he thought you would.
He held you, beyond confused, as you trembled attached to his chest. A crowd formed around you guys and it wasn’t long before some took pictures. He didn’t care though, never did. But still, judging on how it looks he can imagine the way they’ll spin it.
After a moment you rose from his chest and tearfully gave him your number in case he’d ever need someone to talk to, which he skeptically accepted. And eventually, on a cold, lonely night he did find himself in a moment of weakness, so he decided to dial you up even though you might just make him feel worse. You didn’t, you actually listened without judgement, and after that he didn’t feel so reluctant about calling you.
Venting calls turned to causal chats turned to gaming calls, and for once he actually felt like a normal person with normal friends. It struck him that this is what his life could be
If the others just did their fucking research.
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mischief2sarawr · 9 months
Text
Reading List June 2023 📖
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Welcome back, my lovely ladybugs! 🐞
Ehhhhh I might be super late this time but in my defense, first I got a new phone after 6 years and just had to keep playing with it for a few days, then I got sick and was just sleeping until it was over 👀
But better late then never, so here we are! This month I actually don't have as many series on my list than usual but a whole lot of oneshots for you to enjoy ☺️
Have a great summertime aaaand good reading, lovelies! 🫶
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As always, if I made any mistakes, please tell me. Hope you'll find something new to enjoy, please remember to reblog those storys to support our writers!
👉 Find previous reading lists & my writer recommendations here 👈
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✨ Series | Collections | Multiple Parts ✨
A Scandal in Bohara | @mareebird | ongoing
Ahhh I'm so HYPED about this new story out of the Artifacts & Asgardians Series! If you've read the series before (which you should.), you also probably fell in love with the unusual friendship between Loki and Strange. So here we have their own adventure together as an homage to Sherlock Holmes! 🤩🧐
Don't fear the Reaper | @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 | ongoing
While we deal with the heartbreak of Loki stating there can never be anything serious between us, we get to know more of his backstory and why he might act the way he does. Before we can really use our newfound knowledge, Steve and Thor show back up to confront us about the fights and deaths that occured, threatening our stay and the chance to not be declared as a too big liability.
Anagapesis | @olympianwinefic | ongoing
I only started reading this fic recently but it's actually continuing after a long break - and thank god that it's back! Be ready for a lot of angst and drama: After the death of our husband Thor we are forced to marry his brother. But Loki seems to actually hate us even though we were childhood friends. And if that's not enough, he is even suspected of being the murderer of his own brother...😮‍💨
Revenge is complicated | @tricksterlokilaufeyson | ongoing
The love triangle we are now stuck in is getting more intense when Loki arrives back at the compound and is not at all amused to hear about what went down during his absence. Bucky is not about to go down without a fight and Loki makes it his priority to remind us who we belong to now 😮‍💨
Around the Realms in 80 Days | @mistress-ofmagic | ongoing
Latte & Loki are back after a short break! Things are getting serious as we finally arrive in the realm of the fire demons and in our quest to find out who promised Ragnarok manage to pull off our first ever kill! 🔥
Cool Heat | @thirsty4villains | ongoing
Loki declined our proposition to offer ourselves to him, so he can act on his basic instinct in his Jotun heat - still the thought follows us in our dreams that night. Or possibly not just our dreams...? 🔥❄️
The little Things give you away | @currish-rosewolfe | ongoing
"The timelines have split, the TVA is in disarray, the threat of He Who Remains is insurmountable…and Loki is just so done."  Honestly that caught my attention immediately because seriously, he just has to be so done with everything at this point :D For now we only have the prologue of this story but I'm convinced this will be so gooooood. ✨
Soul Seer | @notyetneedcoffee | completed
I actually just started reading this story and I'm really excited about it even though I'm just in the second chapter - as the title might suggest, we are an empath and have the ability to see auras/energies. And what we can definitely see is that something dark is clinging to Lokis mind that's dimming his light.
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✨ ONESHOTS | DRABBLES ✨
@lokisgoodgirl
A Gentlemen's Bond
The Quickie
Come after dark
@muddyorbsblr
What makes a Princess
@wheredafandomat
You're mine
Party Girl I & Part II
What are Friends for?
Misery loves Company
Burns so good
@sserpente
Imagine convincing Loki to go skinny dipping with you
@sarahscribbles
Teasing the Dragon
Even Gods get sick
@currish-rosewolfe
Shhh.
@ijuststareatstuffhereok89
The Wedding Altar
@mochie85
Laced Intentions
@lady-rose-moon
You're losing me
You'll learn to love me
@tripleyeeet
Running away is easy
@holdmytesseract
Resurrected Love
@donaweasley
I will find you Part II
@lokis-dark-queen
Even in the dark, I feel your Resistance
@layla4567
In the Meadows
@sunshinexsin
Doe Eyes
@ashdreams2023
Questions
@ladyofthestayingpower
First Things first
@cosmic0artist
Loki & Sigyn
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I hope you‘ll find something new to add to your own reading list and if you do, please don’t forget to reblog the fics of their amazing writers to support them 💚
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dreadsuitsamus · 6 months
Text
5 Times You Meet Kensei +1 Time He Gets Your Number | Kensei Muguruma x Reader |
author's note: this structure is horribly outdated but i give no fucks!! thank you to @yeowangies for the help and support on this!
pairing: kensei muguruma x fem!reader
warnings: buncha meet cutes, alcohol mentions, lotsa flustering kensei
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Speed dating.
What in the fuck is he doing here.
Kensei pinches the bridge of his nose as he sits at a table, waiting for the event to start just so it can end that much sooner. Mashiro forced this damn thing on him, that little shit. She knows just how to annoy him and get her way: why does he keep her around??
"I guess this isn't really your thing, huh?"
Kensei's brown eyes flick up; dammit, he zoned out and made a fool of himself on the very first 'date'. His silver brow twitches involuntarily as he responds. "You got me."
Your laugh twinkles as you slide into the seat across from him, a fruity cocktail in hand. Kensei's struck immediately by your beauty, for sure, and he's suddenly feeling underdressed in his black Henley and jeans while he's up against your, emphasis on little, black dress and golden accessories. "I've done a few of these before; it's not really anybody's thing, honestly. You're not as out of place as you feel."
"Oh, yes the hell I am." An odd laugh accompanies his shaky assertion— and he hates that he's nervous!
"You should have a drink, calm your nerves a little." The black straw from your brightly colored drink settles in the center of your gorgeously painted lips, demonstrating how you can possibly bear such an event without so much as batting an eye while your gaze flicks to the name tag stuck onto his chest.
Kensei rubs the back of his neck, his muscles deliciously hugged by that too-small Henley. "Good idea. But I don't know if I should be taking advice from someone with more sugar than alcohol in her drink."
Your laugh does more to calm his nerves than a drink would, that's for sure.
You continue to chuckle to yourself as he goes to the bar, watching him order his scotch on the rocks from the rather busy bar. The red numbers tick down on the clock, and he's not likely to return before the time is up. It is speed dating after all. Fishing out a pen from your purse, you scribble a little note on the cocktail napkin before moving onto the next table.
Kensei is rather relieved when he returns to an empty table— but only briefly, since your seat is taken damn near immediately by a new stranger. He has a pull from the drink, smirking into the tumbler as he reads your note and tunes out the new 'date' introducing themselves.
Get it with a twist next time, you wimp!
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"This shouldn't have been so controversial." Kensei's arms are crossed and the vein that's famously seen amongst his infuriating friend group is throbbing so hard that they may as well pay for an entire extra seat just for it.
Shinji and Hiyori, as per fucking usual, cannot decide what movie to watch. The group is split entirely, and it's up to his tie breaking vote to get the evening moving along. They're arguing harshly, the two factions, and he has not a care in the world to the actual film. He just wants his popcorn and peanut M&M's that'll cost him a solid thirty dollars and to take a nap.
"Shut up!" He stands tall, brown eyes furious and just a tad crazy as he fishes a coin from his pocket. "Heads or tails, you jackasses!"
He flips the coin easily, not even sure who called what side as he catches it and flips it into the back of his hand. "Tails. I'm getting a snack now."
Hiyori's taunting Shinji as they purchase the tickets, and Kensei tucks his box of candy into one of his pockets (he told Mashiro his cargo shorts are useful!!) so he can better hold his popcorn bucket out of Hiyori's reach as they stand in line to have their tickets scanned. "Hey, you little rat! Knock it off!"
The giggle behind him is familiar, and his eyes widen rather comically upon sight of you and what he presumes is your gaggle of friends. He never saw you again during that disaster of a night, and it was definitely for the best— he was hammered by the end of it and had to be, literally, picked up by Hachi just to make it home.
"Nice to see you again, Ken." You tease, laughing at Hiyori's ability to snatch a handful of his popcorn during his stunned daze.
"K-Ken?" He stumbles on the word— nobody has ever called him that.
"What movie are you seeing?" You breeze on by his confusion, though the gears in his head have come to a complete standstill. Listen closely enough and you'll hear the internet dial up tone.
"Ah…" He shows his ticket to you, ignoring the snickers of his friends behind him. He'll never live this down. Kensei, their resident, stone-faced asshole, is flustered??
"Oh, we saw that last weekend! Not a bad movie; I think you'll like it." You smile and the line moves up, Kensei's group getting their tickets scanned next.
"Not sure if I trust the opinion of someone who agrees with Hiyori's tastes." Kensei grumbles, worried that the heat on his cheeks is visible to you; or worse, his friends.
"Hey!" Hiyori kicks at Kensei's shin, though it hurts her far more than Kensei himself. You scan your ticket, the teen at the stand pointing your theater in the opposite direction of Kensei's movie.
"You'll trust me enough after you see it." You wink and start to head to your movie, glancing over your shoulder to smile at Kensei once more before disappearing into the theater. Ignoring the snickers of his friends, Kensei growls and heads into their own designated theater.
I should've fucking flipped heads.
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The chill of the air is rather inconsequential to Kensei as he runs security at the door of the nightclub, his nice suit and gloves keeping him as warm as he is stylish. He's never been one to say no to extra cash, and though his days as a doorman are far behind him, he's still got it, evidently. He's stopped several fake IDs, weapons, drugs and more, all while making his much-higher hourly rate than he did back when this was his living.
Just after busting a teen with the worst fake ID he's ever seen, Kensei's line finally starts fizzling out. The club is booming, half of the city must be inside by this point, with the other half having been kicked swiftly to the curb. He checks the expensive watch on his wrist; just a few more hours and he's all done, his favor to the club owner fulfilled and his next monthly car note paid off. Huffing out a breath, the cold air lingers for a moment, and as it dissipates, he's met with his next crowd of people.
So much for a moment of peace.
The group is split between himself and the other doorman, and it's the routine pat downs and ID checks as usual. He's gotten through a third of the group before you're before him, smirking with twinkly eyes as you present your ID to him— it's only now that he actually gets your name.
"Funny how we keep meeting." You tease, tucking the ID card back into your wallet and stepping aside for his pat down, rather eager for those strong-looking hands to get a touch of you.
Kensei's brown eyes flick to meet your gaze, and his face warms just at the sight of you. You truly are a stunning woman. "Careful; I might just think you're stalking me."
"You think I like you that much, Ken? Interesting…" Your teeth graze your lower lip, just a little, as you spread your arms and legs.
"Don't call me Ken." He grumbles, appreciating the way your perfume masks the cigarettes those in line have been smoking all night.
"It's cute." You shrug and Kensei pats you down without another word, perking a pierced brow as he snags a small bottle of whiskey concealed in your waistband.
"I don't think you know what 'cute' is if you're talking about me in the same sentence. Better luck next time, princess."
"Guess you're good at your job, huh?" You murmur, gazing up and over your shoulder to better see his handsome face. He's got a pet name for you now, hm? Interesting.
"Shoulda got in the other guy's line." Kensei mutters, tossing and subsequently shattering the glass on the cold sidewalk.
"I like this line." Slowly, your fingertip drags along the length of his sharp jaw and it's then that Kensei's aware of his other hand still holding your hip— how in the hell do you have the ability to make him forget himself so easily? "But since you took my whiskey… Can I go inside now? I could use a drink."
The taller man's Adam's apple bobs and he releases you, practically pushing you into the doors of the booming club and the arms of your giggling friends. His face is pink, and at least he can try to pass it off on the cold temperatures if anyone asks.
He should've saved that damn whiskey for later.
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Kensei's sweating like a whore in church as he finishes his workout, his body glistening with sweat as he pulls off his tank top for a taste of refreshing air. Cardio was a particular killer for him today, though it made the weight training a little bit easier too. He'd been slacking off for a few weeks, and the moment he had just a little difficulty yeeting Mashiro and Lisa (simultaneously, and while dealing with Hiyori doing her best to knock him over) into that pit of foam at the trampoline place was a reminder to get back to the gym.
He's more of a primadonna than he admits.
He takes a long pull from his water bottle, pouring the remainder over his heated face and shoulders and scans the room. It's habit to him, partially as a former special forces commander and also due to the number of times he's caught others incorrectly using equipment and aided them for better workouts. The gym is the only place he's remotely social in, oddly enough.
His brown eyes narrow at the sight of a woman (that can't be who he thinks it is) on a stair stepper. There's a man beside her, one that he noticed following her around before. They could be friends, though Kensei doubts it greatly as the loser continues to stand beside you, talking about gains while you remain the only one actually working out.
The guy's talking with his hands, and Kensei's witnessed this brand of harassment enough to tell where this is going. Wasting a breath no more, he's walking over with a meaner face than usual. It is you, and that makes him just a little more angry at this harassment than he'd normally be. You turn your head away from the man that's been annoying you, eyes lighting up at your savior. "Ken!"
Kensei places himself between you and the strange man, his impressive size and build enough to make the other guy nervous. "You like harassing women at the gym?" He crosses those deliciously thick arms, and you're frankly more concerned with viewing his toned back than dealing with the situation at hand.
"I told you I had a boyfriend." You tease, peeking over Kensei's shoulder at the now very intimidated mark.
Kensei frowns just a tad deeper after that— so many things are wrong with that statement. Namely, you thinking you had to have a boyfriend, real or not, for this guy to leave you alone. Unbeknownst to him, the back of his neck flushes a light, rosy color that makes you snicker.
"If I ever see you harassing a woman again, I'm gonna beat the shit out of you. Understood?"
Kensei doesn't waste time hearing any lame excuses or apologies before turning to face you, who smirks proudly in his wake. "I'm here most days a week around this time. If anyone bothers you again, just come find me and I'll take care of it. And don't call me Ken."
"You're more bothered by me calling you Ken than my boyfriend?" You raise a brow, an entertained smirk on your face.
"Like I'd date someone who wears a pink bodysuit to the gym." Kensei grumbles lamely, blushing from the tips of his ears to the center of his chest.
"That's a lot of talk coming from someone that's blushing pinker than a Barbie dream house." You laugh, poking one of his pectorals.
He's red now as he looks away from you, his jaw tight as you tease him. "Stop bothering me and finish your workout." He retreats before you can manage to get under his skin again, though his plan doesn't pan out like he hoped as your voice follows him.
"Nice tattoo, by the way!"
"Get your mind outta the gutter!" He hollers back, practically running to hide in the locker room, all while you grin and wonder if that was the hint of a Long Island accent slipping through.
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"Come on, let's go!" Kensei claps his hands harshly, ushering his friends (and those they brought along that he merely tolerates) towards the stadium. The baseball game is due to start shortly and goddammit he's not gonna miss a thing because of these unorganized fucks. He's still got a hot dog to get!
"Relax, friend." Shinji shakes his head at Kensei's impatience, not that it was unexpected of the hothead.
"No! They might actually win this one!" Kensei's excitement is hard to contain, and he actually smiles at the idea of his favorite team not being losers!
"Oh yeah? Confident enough to put your money on it?"
Kensei snorts, leading the charge into the stadium amongst the throngs of people. "Not a chance."
Half of the group is sent to their seats while the other takes on the responsibility of securing food and drink, Kensei at the ready with the entire order memorized. The lines are dense, the entire area packed and noisy. Under normal circumstances he'd be overstimulated quickly and heavily irritated, but even those ticks of his can be overlooked for a ballgame.
He's next in line and fires off the order with precision, handing off the drinks to Shinji and Ichigo to run to deliver them to the rest of the group, Kensei more than capable of carrying all the food himself. His thick arms full, he steps away and makes for the stands just as the person in the line beside him exits at the same time.
"Woah there!" You steady yourself against Kensei's strong build, gripping his sleeveless jersey tightly to keep yourself standing as the hot dogs and nachos in his arms crash onto the floor.
"Jesus!" He grumbles, grasping your hip with a strong hand now that the food is gone.
"Oh, Kensei, I'm sorry." You glance at the floor before looking back up at the not-so-strange stranger.
""s just food, no worries." He mutters. "You okay?"
"Yeah, yeah." You wave off his concern easily. "Here, let me buy you your food again."
Kensei snorts, tugging at your own jersey that's for the rival team. "I don't need a Bears fan buying me a hot dog. That's how people choke."
"Ha!" You smile despite your offended scoff. "As if a Panthers fan could do anything but! They learned from the best!"
"You take that back!" Kensei pokes your shoulder.
"You gonna make me?" You smirk in the face of the handsome man, and he smirks right back at you.
"You will by the end of the game, princess."
"Guess we'll see, Ken. That is, if you make it to your seat by the end." Winking slyly, you saunter off and Kensei's left to realize just how much longer the line is now.
"Don't… Don't call me Ken." He grumbles out, heading for the back of the line.
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Hell has frozen over: his friends all have plans on a Friday night, between dates and familial commitments and whatnot, and he's left to do whatever the hell he likes in peace. It's been years since he's had such an opportunity, and there's nowhere else in the world he'd rather be than here at his favorite dive, enjoying a basket of fish and chips with a mug of ice cold beer.
That was the plan, anyhow. And it started off that way easily enough.
But then you walked in with someone else.
Ever since he met you, you've popped up at the most random times and he's never expected not one of them, this time being the absolute furthest from expecting it he could be. Seeing you was one thing… Seeing you with another guy, in Kensei's favorite bar, was… So fucking rage-inducing that he's still contemplating throwing the guy through the window even an hour after seeing you come in.
Lookin' so pretty… For a fuckin' schmuck that took her to the shittiest dive in town.
Who the hell does the guy think he is? With the prettiest woman for miles on his arm, he's at a dive bar for a first date. The disrespect is insane, the lack of thought or care simply ludicrous. Kensei doesn't date anymore because it's just so stupid but damn if he wouldn't do better than this, by a lot.
"Awfully pouty tonight, Ken."
Kensei blinks out of his salty stupor, turning his head. "Don't call me Ken."
You laugh at his offense to the nickname and order two drinks from the bartender before looking back at him. "What's got you so worked up?"
Kensei feels like his brows will forever be stuck frowning, the vein at his temple about to burst. "Did you just order that grown man a drink?"
"Mhm. Is that an issue?"
He snorts, shaking his head at the bitter laugh he can't control. "No, if you like bums who can't show a pretty woman a good time."
Your teeth sink into your lip, tugging while enjoying how this big, tough guy seems to be jealous that you're with someone else. "Well, when you put it like that, I can't help but wanna see how you'd do it better."
And fuck, there it is. Kensei can't turn down such a golden opportunity; he's already a sucker for being challenged, add a beautiful woman into the mix, one that's mischievous and crafty like you, and he's got no choice but to jump in headfirst. "Then I'll show you. You'd do well to learn what a good date is."
Your grin is bright and you dive into your purse for a pen. "Call me anytime."
Kensei holds the napkin with your number carefully as you retreat to your horrible excuse for a date with the drinks, his heart pumping quicker than normal. Now he can access you intentionally, with ease.
A slow smirk spreads on his lips as he types the number into his phone, nearly wearing a shit-eating grin as he holds it to his ear and watches you politely step away from your sleazy date to answer the call.
"I'm ready to show you a better time."
Your laugh echoes across the room, and for once he's not embarrassed to laugh with you.
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thepenultimateword · 1 year
Text
Date or Die Part 10
This might be so sappy you could make syrup out of it, but I give you, dear followers, the Date or Die Finale! To think I wrote part 1 as a quick little prompt fill on a whim in April; it’s crazy that its been nearly 10 months since then! Thanks for coming along for the ride!
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine
Supervillain took a long sip from their mug and squinted down their arm at the soft-colored mood board on their phone screen. The tea had gone from lukewarm to cold, allowing a ring of grainy sediment to settle at the bottom; now it swirled up and skimmed bitterly across their tastebuds, causing them to wince and stick out their tongue.
"You waited too long again," Villain said, glancing over the large stack of envelopes piled up on either side of them. How were they so good at noticing every little thing? Even when they weren't looking?
"It's gross when it's hot," Supervillain countered, forcing another sip out of pure defiance. "What do you think of this combination?"
They leaned halfway out of bed and thrust their phone in Villain's direction.
Instead of leaning out and meeting Supervillain halfway, Villain let their pen clatter to the desktop and strode over to the bed, crawling over Supervillain's legs and snuggling into their side. "Alright, let's see it."
Supervillain fought the warmth rising in their cheeks--that had been happening a lot lately--and brought the phone up to their lover's eye level.
"Oh, I like the dusty rose and dusty blue. Oh! And those string lights are beautiful. Do you think we can find some like that to put over the wedding bower? We could mix in real flowers and it would look like it's glowing!"
Supervillain cleared their throat, a well of uncontrollable affection surging up their airway as per usual. "Of course. Maybe we could go out and look at flower arrangements tomorrow?"
Villain nodded, stretching their arms and all ten fingers out in front of them before leaning back against Supervillain's chest. Supervillain had the sudden urge to kiss them. All over. Forever. Sometimes their presence still felt surreal. A dream they might wake up from at any moment.
"See something you like?" Villain said.
Supervillain jolted, averting their eyes to the wall in front of them. "How are invitations going?"
"Pretty good." Villain began playing with a lock of Supervillain's hair that had fallen across their shoulder. "Though I'm still stuck on whether or not to invite Friend."
Supervillain immediately turned their gaze back on their lover.
"My ex-best friend who tried to kill you and now is confined to a high-security prison? That Friend?"
"They invited you to theirs. It's only polite to return the favor. Besides, it's not like they can actually show up."
"No, but it's the principal of it. You try to kill my fiancee, you don't get an invite to the wedding."
"To be fair," Villain said, a sly grin curving their jaw. They twisted the lock of hair tighter around their finger and tugged just hard enough to tip their chin in their direction. "We weren't really dating when they tried to kill me."
Supervillain swallowed hard. "Th-they didn't know that."
This villain was going to be the death of them. Where did they get off flipping their roles around, them the suave charmer and Supervillain the flustered mess?
"And I already liked you by then. I liked you before then. So on all accounts it was...utterly...completely...unacceptable."
Villain was so close, Supervillain could smell the strawberries and cream on their breath from breakfast. It blended with a hint of ginger from their tea. That matching mug set was one of the best purchases Supervillain had ever made. It made Villain's eyes shine, sort of the way they shone now, like a couple stars blinking out of an inky black firmament. Just...beautiful. They were so...so...
"S-stop teasing me!" they cried, shooting upright and out of Villain's grasp. They snatched the ends of their long hair and bundled it up over their burning face.
Villain fell on their back cackling. "But it's so fun! You're like this super scary steel trap all covered in barbs and spikes, it's the best watching you turn into jelly."
"Evil!"
"Villain, darling." Gentle fingers slid over their shoulders as the smaller criminal draped over Supervillain's back and wrapped their arms around their neck. "You didn't know what you were getting back then, did you?"
Supervillains wrapped their hands around Villain's fists. "I did actually. I've always known you were clever, conniving, and mean, but you're also gentle, empathetic, and kind. I love every part of you."
"You're sappy." Villain nuzzled their ear.
Supervillain pecked the corner of their mouth. "You love it."
For a moment there was only warm silence, then Villain tipped halfway over their shoulder to meet their eyes. "So. Friend?"
"I don't know why you're insisting on it, but fine."
"And Friend's Spouse?"
"Really? They might actually come."
"They did testify against Friend in court."
Supervillain sighed heavily. "Fine. Whatever you want, love."
Villain grinned and dropped their weight back against the curve of their spine. "I love you."
"I...love you too."
Supervillain never thought they'd get to say that in their lifetime with such confidence, but they were immensely glad it was true.
***
"This was their idea, wasn't it?"
Friend sat in the far corner of their white, empty cell. A metal twin-sized bed and a plain, three-compartment chest of drawers were the only furnishings in the drab space. A framed picture of their spouse--glass removed of course--was about the only thing bringing any sort of personalness to the place. And now the wedding invitation.
"How'd you know?" Supervillain said, standing a few paces back from the glass, thumb hooked in the corners of their pockets.
Friend looked up, eyes flashing. They wore the face of young, golden-haired ship captain today. The one they'd stabbed in the back at the end of a sea heist six years ago. According to the prison guards, they did that often. Wearing faces that didn't belong to them. The prison's therapist said it was most likely a form of escapism, wanting to be anyone but themself at the moment. "Because they're petty. Like you. Like me."
A beat passed. The beat that carried the unsaid question they both held under their tongues. Did it have to be this way? Was there any universe where this turned out differently? Or were they always destined to crash and burn?
Supervillain shifted their weight to their other foot. "I didn't know jealousy would make you so homicidal."
"Everything makes me homicidal."
Supervillain chuckled humorlessly. "That's true."
The overhead light buzzed mechanically in the silence. The invitation's soft paper rustled as Friend rubbed the corners between their thumbs and forefingers.
"I know you've said you have nothing to say,'" Supervillain probed, "but..."
"It wasn't because I loved you," Friend said. Their voice snapped out cold and harsh like a whip. "I didn't. Not the way I knew you loved me. I'd known for years."
Supervillain's stomach squirmed a little. It probably shouldn't matter now, those feelings were just as nonexistent as Friend's, but they couldn't help but feel somewhat embarrassed that they'd apparently been so obvious.
The corners of the photo softened under Friend's pressure, and they slowly peeled them away, letting them flutter to the ground in little crumples of color. "I thought I wanted you with someone else. I truly did. Until you were."
"I wasn't--"
"I know. But you did fall in love. And suddenly, I knew I couldn't live without your attention. Didn't matter that I didn't want you. Still didn't want you. I just liked being your world. Having you on a string. Watching you dance to my tunes. That's probably sick, isn't it?"
"Well...that's what I always liked about you." Supervillan's eyes followed the next shreds of paper as they fell.
"But not anymore."
"No. Not anymore."
Friend stopped shredding just short of the faces and set the invitation flat on their dresser. Their eyes flicked up to meet Supervillain's through the glass.
"You're softer now."
"I'm not interested in playing with lives anymore, if that's what you mean."
Friend shrugged. "Dunno. Guess there's just an edge to you that's gone now." Their voice went softer. "I was never going to do that for you."
Once, Supervillain wouldn't have needed words to sit in Friend's presence. Their gaze had always been enough. Now they wanted nothing more than to get out and back to Villain's awaiting comfort.
"I should get going. Villain is outside."
They started toward the mouth of the hallway.
"Supervillain."
They stopped, half-turning back toward Friend.
"I hope... I hope the wedding is nice."
Supervillain nodded.
The walk to the exit was considerably lighter than it had been coming in.
***
Villain kicked their heels against the waxed linoleum tile. It had probably been 15 minutes since Supervillain walked back with the guards to deliver the wedding invitation to Friend. It usually took that amount of time alone to be searched, escorted in, searched again, and escorted out. Villain wasn't sure how long Supervillain would spend talking to them, but they guess they probably had at least 5 or 10 minutes longer to wait.
The door to the entrance squealed, and Villain glanced briefly over their shoulder. No sooner had the turned forward they were whirling around again.
"Oh! Hi!"
Friend's Spouse froze mid-step, shoulders hunching like a snarly dog.
"I hoped you might turn up!" Villain continued. "I mean, I knew you came in every Tuesday and Friday, but I wasn't sure if today would be one of those days when you don't come in because sometimes life happens and throws us off schedule. I also didn't know what time you usually visit so--"
"I get it," Friend's Spouse said, holding up one hand to quiet them. They looked around the waiting area a moment before nodding toward the sign-in desk. "Let me guess. Supervillain?"
"They should be done soon."
Friend's Spouse sighed but dropped into the chair next to Villain without too much of a fuss.
Villain fiddled their thumbs. "I never thanked you for what you did. Back at your house or in court. I-"
"I didn't do it for you," Friend's Spouse grumbled.
"I know. But you still did it so...thank you."
Friend's Spouse stared toward the passageway, currently empty except for the two guards at the mouth. "I just needed to stop them before they did something really wrong. And ruined something important to them."
"You're a civilian, right?" Villain said. "You're not..."
"In 'the business'? No. But I'm what you'd call a morally questionable person, so I didn't care what Friend did. Even when it came to death. But their obsession over the two of you...that did need to be stopped. As much for them as for anybody."
For not the first time, the civilian's strength impressed Villain. They didn't know if they would be able to do the same for Supervillain. Hurt them in order to help them. Then again, Villain couldn't really imagine Supervillain doing something so insane. Friend was definitely more volatile, which was saying something when Supervillain had actively held them hostage for over a month.
"Are you guys ok?" Villain said.
"Yes," Friend's Spouse said snappily. "...They're not happy with me, but at least they understand why I did it." They cleared their throat. "How are...you? Still with Supervillain apparently?"
"Yeah, we-- Oh, right!" Villain rummaged through their bag until their fingers glossed over the invitation they'd stowed away in case of this exact meeting. "Here."
Friend's Spouse stared at it for a long time. "You're seriously inviting me?"
"I came to yours."
"I kidnapped you."
"Supervillain kidnapped me; I can let it go the first time, maybe even the second." At the civilian's strange look, they added, "Nothing in villainy is typical."
"I'm pretty sure you're situation is atypical even for other atypicals."
Villain chuckled lightly. Probably true. If someone had told them the night of their almost-execution that the person holding a gun to their head would one day be their fiancee, they would have laughed, rather manically, in their face.
As if on queue, the steady clack of Supervillain's shoes traveled up the hallway, growing louder and louder with each step. Villain burst to their feet before the other villain had even entered view.
“Hey,” Supervillain greeted, passing the double guards and immediately interlocking fingers with Villain. A moment later they noticed their company. “Hey, [Friend’s Spouse]. I think they’re itching to see you.”
Friend’s Spouse forced a smile that looked more like a grimace and rose to their feet.
"Well,” Villain hung to Supervillain’s arm and shot Friend’s Spouse one more what-they-hoped-was-friendly look. “Address is on the invitation if you decide to drop by."
"I'll think about it," Friend's Spouse said, then softer. "Er...thank you."
With that, they made their way to the sign-in desk without a second glance.
***
The wedding had lots of chamomile and no cinnamon. The table of kettles, each set to boil on its own hot plate, filled the room with heady steam, each flavor coming together so the air practically bathed in the sweet, floral aromas.
Supervillain spun Villain under their arm, catching them on their chest before they could fully stumble.
"I thought your last wedding would have put you off from heels," they said, eyes all googly and soft as they tipped their forehead against Villain's.
"Well, you know me. I'm a glutton for punishment." Villain quirked a sly smile and slid their arms up around Supervillain's neck. "But hey, heels saved my life! ...Or was it cinnamon?"
Supervillain swayed them back and forth. "Don't know...but you were adorable."
"You wanted me dead," Villain scoffed. They didn't know when that had become a natural thing to say, but somehow it escaped their lips without eliciting so much as a shiver.
"I could still appreciate your cuteness. Especially when your little nose got all runny and your voice all squeaky and--"
Villain interrupted them with a quick kiss on the mouth.
"I think that's quite enough," they said as they pulled back.
Supervillain stumbled the next dance step, face flushed a bright, pretty pink.
"Aww, your so cuu-"
Supervillain's lips crashed back against their own.
Suddenly Villain couldn't hear the music, or the "ooos" of their guests, all that mattered was the steady pressure of Supervillain's hands on their hips, the soft warmth against their mouth, and the taste of honied chamomile. Their heart pounded so hard they felt dizzy. When Supervillain finally let them breathe again they swayed like a drunk.
Supervillain remained close enough for their breath to tickle their face. "Honey, you may be a villain, but I'm a supervillain. Don't you ever forget that."
Villain's mind had become nothing but blank static, so they nodded dumbly.
Supervillain grinned, something between wicked and smitten. "Want to make a bargain?"
Villain rested their head against Supervillain's pounding heart, letting the beats steady them as they gripped the lapels of their suit coat. “Sounds like our style. Let's hear it."
"Nothing serious, just…that we stay together until we die.”
“I think that was part of our vows,” Villain said with a chuckle. “Til death do us part and all that?”
“It’s different.”
The song came to a close, and Supervillain guided them by the hand back to their table, paying little attention to the of well-wishers that ambushed them along the way. Villain really wasn’t sure how many of the people were really happy for them and how many just wanted on Supervillain’s good side.
“How is it different?” Villain said, breaking them from the uncomfortable scowl before it could fully plaster their face.
“People break those vows all the time. We didn’t break our bargain…”
Villain pushed a lock of hair behind Supervillain’s ear. “And what are the consequences of breaking said bargain?”
“Death.”
Villain’s eyes widened, and Supervillain smirked.
“Not really. …I suppose nothing.”
Villain pondered a moment. “You know, death might not be such a bad idea…” As soon as it left their mouth, they quickly held up both hands. “Not in real life! I meant as pretend! A-and not with threats to each other, but maybe sometimes we could pretend that there’s a bigger threat, and we have to stick together to survive.”
Supervillain nodded slowly. “I like it.” They paused. “We’re weird, aren’t we?”
“Oh, that became clear long ago.”
Supervillain shrugged and picked up their wine glass of deep blackberry tea, lukewarm from neglect by now.
“Married or die?”
Villain grinned, rising their golden glass of chamomile glass in return. They clinked the glasses together as their hands found each other beneath the table.
“Married or die.”
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yarrystyleeza · 1 month
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Ok actually I didn't have to think long, lol.
What would your ideal first date with Mikey (aka our favorite Irish mob daddy) consist of??? 👀
I am really really REALLY sorry it took me (5) months to finish this piece, a lot of stuff was going on (my life was a complete mess, still tho). But since it's Valentine's day, I HAD to post something, and what's better than a date with Mikey for a Valentine's gift?
Something else I had to say, is that I had no idea how to write HCs—which is the vibe that I got from your ask (hehe), so, I improvised, and made up a whole story of what would your first date with Mikey would be (with a back story as well).
That being said, let's jump right into the act! And thank you, thank you, thank you, so much, for submitting this request and for your patience, please enjoy! 💖💖💖
It's Always Raining In Dublin (M.K)
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Requested by @loveroftoomanyfandoms
Pairing and dynamic: Michael Kinsella x female!reader (reader is a bookshop owner), strangers to friends (?) to lovers
Prompt: fluff, first date goes wrong but then perfect, rain, rain, and more rain.
Word Count: 4.3k!
Writer's note: this was supposed to be finished back in September, which was five months ago, but I was struggling for a while with both a terrible writer's block and life and then BOOM I got the inspiration to finish it. Also, this is the very first time I ever write anything for Michael, so I'm a little nervous, I hope it's good enough though.
(I proofread this almost a thousand times WITH my bestie as well, so if there's anything wrong with the grammar and/or the lexical content, we were really exhausted and couldn't see shit—we're sorry T-T).
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It was a rainy morning when you truly met him, it rained almost everyday in Dublin but that day was a core memory. You had just unlocked the door of your little bookshop and started to sort things out before your costumers arrive.
Usually, your first client doesn't show up before nine-thirty in the morning, which gives you spare time to dust off the shelves and pick up a big cup of coffee from the nearby coffeeshop down the street—in this never-ending autumn.
That morning was no different. It was pouring heavily but you're used to opening your shop on rainy days, it's always raining in Dublin anyway, and if you had to take each rainy day off—you'd end up with a couple of fingers on your hands as you count the days you worked on per year.
You were organizing the children's books section when you heard the sweet chime of the little bell hanging on your front door. It was barely eight and you happened to just finished your coffee and breakfast, getting ready to start your day. But it began earlier than you expected it to.
Your costumer was a man, you assumed he was in his early forties, maybe for the dark thick beard that covers most of his face. His face was strangely familiar to you, you just couldn't exactly remember when it was when you saw him.
But you're sure that this was the prettiest face of a man you've seen in a while. His greenish hazel brown eyes sparkled like a kaleidoscope with a hint of an exquisite permanent-sadness, and his flushed skin and dampened hair glistened due to the torrent outside.
You felt your breath stuck in your throat for a moment before you could clear it to speak.
"good morning, sir, how may I help ya today?" you faced him fully and your skirt swirled—following your motion with a swoosh in the air, you catch him glance down at it for a second before returning his eyes on you.
"I... The book ye suggested ta me the other day..." he starts gently and the memory comes back rushing immediately. You remember that warm tone, you had indeed met this gentleman before.
A week ago, he came over to your shop and you recall how lost he was in his search for the perfect book to read. And you, being a bookworm, and also the owner of this little corner bookshop— you had to help him. You gave him a suggestion for a book out of his box—out of his comfort readings.
And from the gentle look on his face, you suppose that he liked it.
"I'was grand," the man smiles softly and the corners of his eyes crinkle a little, you find yourself grinning back at him.
"Ye finished it quickly!" you commented in excitement and he looked a bit puzzled, a smile softly drawn on his lips with a little crease of confusion. It was adorable.
"I mean—I'm glad t'was grand that ya finished it quickly." He lipped a silent "oh" before his cheeks burn red as he smiled and his eyes almost disappeared.
"Are ya here for another book?" you asked when the silence fell on the place, raindrops kept knocking on the glass front nonstop, music to your ears with this handsome man smiling and radiating joy to your eyes.
"Ye can say that..." his voice was quiet but you can hear it in this downpour noise, he tilted his head to the side and shrugged, and it was impossible for you to not aw at it.
"How about we go with somethin' even newer for today?" you suggested, he nods to the side with a little smile, you walk and he follows you down the aisle.
"Romance or crime and mystery?" you stop at the novels sections, "pride and prejudice, I guess ya must've heard of it before," you pick the book off the shelf, he gently takes it from your hand and examines the cover thoroughly with his amber eyes, and he looked so interested.
"Or, we can go with Agatha Christie's illustrious murder on the orient express," you take the book and hand it to him, "or... Take a whole new genre and check Mary Shelley's horror Frankenstein? It's one of me favorites," you hand him the third book after strolling down the aisle a little more.
The man looked puzzled now, he seemed interested in each one of these books. But you patiently wait for him to speak.
"Have ya made up yer mind yet, sir?" you ask.
He shrugged with a sigh, raising his brows high, "they all look grand— can't lie t'ye," he answered.
"They are— but I can make ya an offer, I'll give ya the three books with the price of one and a half—and in return, ye're gonna write me a review of each book to add to me list of reviews and suggestions here on me wall," you tilt your head to the side, eyeing his beautiful features and almost forgetting you were waiting for his answer.
"Tha' seems grand ta me," he chuckled.
"I'm glad it is!" you walk him back to the cashier check, you get back behind your computer to scan the books and add in the discount.
"That'll be 18.46 after the discount," you lean against the wooden surface with your arms supporting you up.
He nods and hands you the money. "There ya go--" you're about to hand him the change. He shook his head, "no, keep tha change, miss..." he cuts you off gently, looking down at the little pin with your name on it.
You tell him your name to catch his eyes back up and he nods with a little smile, "Michael." he says, only taking the receipt and the paper bag of books.
He turns and makes his way to the front door, "Michael?" you loved the sound of his name rolling off your tongue. He stops and turns with a puzzled face, "thanks fer the tip," he smiles and you can see the blush on his face a mile away. He leaves and you watch him take a turn to the right before he disappeared under the northern downpour.
The next week, Michael shows up at your shop's door on a Saturday afternoon, a big smile drawn on his face. You were dealing with a little kid trying to choose a book, you turn to see him and he immediately waves at you, a little sweet grin splits the darkness of his thick beard. "Ya can take the book now, pet, momma's gonna send me the money later, 'kay?" The two of you watch the little kid waddle out of the shop.
"Sorry t' interrupt yer work," he says as he crossed the distance between you. You shake your head, "at all, Michael. How was yer read? Which book did ya read first?" you asked, leaning against the shelves.
He smiled wider when you said his name, almost startled to speak. "Um, the-- the mystery one, murder on the orient express," he answered.
"And did ya like it?" you ask him again with enthusiasm and butterflies crowding your lungs. He rubs the back of his neck with a sigh and an apologetic smile. "Ya don't seem like ya liked it, did ya?" you chuckled.
He scrunched his nose and tilts his head to the side, "the ending was unexpected at all ta be honest with ya," he shrugs.
You nodded and hummed to his answer, "Christie is never expected, that's why we love her," he nods back.
You notice the two paper cups of coffee he held in his hand when the smell of freshly baked-and-brewed coffee beans hits your nostrils. You were so confused why you never noticed it before, maybe you were distracted by Michael's presence as a whole, or his always-glistened ambers if you were specific. Michael notices the confused smile on your face. "I— thought I should bring ye coffee, as a thank ya."
Your smile grows with a blush as he hands you a cup, "thank ya, Michael, that's truly sweet of ya," you coo, his face blushes and shyly drops his eyes to the ground.
The sky thunders and you nearly jumped out of your place, both of you stare at the other and you burst out laughing. "Did that scare ya off, pet?" Michael asked with a worried smile, you kept giggling.
"Not really but... It was... Unexpected?" you answer after taking a deep breath.
"Like Christie?" he chuckled, you burst out laughing.
"Like Christie."
The weeks turned into months and Michael began to show up more and more often, and you eagerly waited every morning to see his shiny hazel eyes and his beautiful smile, one that you keep daydreaming about until he steps into your shop with two hot cups of coffee.
He turned from a regular client—to be a resident of this little bookshop. Michael started to stay in with you and help you organizing and monitoring the place—he would even help the little kids in choosing their books, too.
Once, you found him sitting on the oak floor, the little boys and girls gathered and sat around him, while he narrated a children's book. Your heart melted at the sight, and luckily that wouldn't be the last time.
The kids would come into your shop asking you if uncle Michael was there to read for them; Michael was now a part of your place, and you're happy to have someone like him to keep your company.
One evening —after three months of seeing each other daily— when the sky was cloudy and the sunset light was becoming less visible. The weather broadcast had warned about an upcoming rainstorm tonight—so you had to call it a night and leave.
You made sure everything was in the right place and order before you left. You put your autumn coat on and stuff your phone inside your purse. You take the keys out and you make your way towards the exit. Michael was waiting for you by the front door. Both of you get out of the shop and you turn to lock it up.
Michael calls your name gently in a tone barely louder than a whisper before you head on your way home and it makes your stomach churn in the most beautiful way.
You turn to look at him, he's shifting in his place, hands stuffed inside his leather jacket pockets and face all flustered and burning red. "Can I walk ye home tonight? It's a lil' darker than usual, I'd be worried 'bout ye, pet," he asks, voice so desperate. Your heart skips a beat—but it comes back pounding.
Your smile doesn't leave your face and it starts to hurt your cheeks. "Sure thing, Michael, I'd love to," you nodded, he grins and his eyes crinkle and his orbits shine.
The sky darkens but you could still see the perfect smile on Michael's face, little raindrops started sliding against your skins and it was a scene out of a painting, so magical and calm.
You make it to your place and you exchange goodbyes. You watched him walking down the concrete path and disappeared behind the brick wall.
You made your way to your doorstep, almost taking your keychain out when Michael calls out your name, you turn to face him, he's all soaked in water but his beautiful grin never left his face.
"Can I take ya out fer dinner tomorrow night?" your jaw dropped and your head screamed 'yes, yes, yes'.
"Yes! Yes, y'can, Michael!" you could barely make out his silhouette as your grin almost shut your eyes. He's almost jumping in his place, he sighs with a big smile.
"I'll pick ya up tomorrow at seven, is that grand fer ya, pet?" he shouts.
"Of course, Mikey!" you shouted back.
You walked into the warmth of your house soaked and giggly, you ran upstairs straight to your bedroom to plan an outfit, you didn't care about messing up the carpet, you'd deal with that later.
You quickly made up your mind about a floral day dress you had bought recently and you recall thinking of Michael while buying this dress.
You guess he's going to love it, he usually complimented you when you wore dresses and let your hair down and that's what you're going to do.
You took the next Sunday morning off as you started to prepare yourself for the date, pampering yourself with all the skin and hair care products you can find in your house.
You wanted to look perfect for him.
You felt overwhelmed with happiness, making up the scenarios of your evening. Where will he take you out? Is it a fancy restaurant or a local diner? What would he bring you? Flowers definitely, he's a flower-gifting man, as you realized, it was definitely his way of showing affection. He brought flowers every couple days for the shop.
Now it's nearing seven and you happened to just finished your look. You put on your dress and you fix your hair, adding a little floral accessory to the side of your braided bangs. You looked stunning, you hoped that you'd give the same impression to Michael.
The doorbell rings as you slipped into your heels, you look at your mirror for the very last time tonight before opening the door. He looked so fine though he wore his shirt and trousers casually with his leather jacket. You could kiss him already.
His eyes stayed fixed on yours for a brief moment before he exhaled with a stunned smile. "Y—ya look magical, pet," he breathed out and it made you turn completely red.
"I tried me best..." you shyly drive your eyes away and tuck a stray strand back behind your ear.
"Y'don' even have ta try, love, ye're always lookin' good," he shyly says and you could see his cheeks prickling red as he drove his eyes down to his shoes.
"I um... Brought ya these," he revealed a bouquet from behind his back, it was of red roses. It matched your dress perfectly. His head tilted to the side with a smile as he handed it to you.
"They're so wonderful, Mikey, loved them, thank ya," you take the bundle. "Ya look great too, Mikey, loved yer shirt," you had to compliment him, he deserved it.
His face reddened beneath his beard, "thanks, love."
"Ye're ready, aren't ya, love?" he asked with a smile.
"I am, let me get me purse and coat first—"
He shook his head, "take yer time, pet," he countered.
You turn behind the door and take your coat off the hanger. Sliding inside it, you take your purse, grab an umbrella and widen the little crevice of the door to pass outside.
Michael hesitantly held your hand but when he noticed how you instantly wrapped your palm around his—he intertwined his fingers with yours, with no plans on letting go.
You walked down to the main street where Michael tried to stop a taxi for the two of you. "We don't have to take it," you stopped him with a gentle hand on his back, he was a little confused, "I'd prefer walking with ya, Mikey," you explained yourself. A big smile breaks the darkness of his beard and you could swear he beams at you.
As you strolled down the concrete path, the sky thundered vigorously, the voice rumbled and echoed in the air, and it wasn't long before it started dropping tears upon the two of you.
You could see Michael's face turning dark, he cursed under his breath, you rubbed a pat onto his bicep, and pulled the umbrella over your heads, offering him a soft smile. He smiled back but you still felt how uneasy he was.
"It's okay, Mikey, I love walkin' in the rain," you comment, and that kinda eases the tension of his demeanor.
The walk is silent, and you could still feel him timid as you held his forearm, you know he can't control the weather, but you don't really mind if it's sunny or gloomy, as long as you are with Michael, it's all what matters to you.
The two of you made it to the restaurant, and Michael's face turned even darker. A sign on the glass door reads 'electricity outage, sorry for disturbing' was hung on the glass door. You turn to look at Michael, his eyes are glaring with fire.
The receptionist types something on his phone and sticks it to the glass, "it's coming back in a few minutes, we're working on the issue, we truly apologize for such occurrence... See, Mikey? We can wait a few more minutes," you smiled back at him, but Michael wasn't really buying it.
He gulped and closed his eyes, huffing out a stream of hot air. "It's okay, Mikey, we can go somewhere else if ya don' wanna wait..." you suggested.
He shook his head, "no, I booked us a table in there a week ago and I ain't takin' ya anywhere less than that!" he tried to remain calm but his tone was getting angrier, "I can't let this day go wrong like tha'!" he expressed, wiping his mouth and tugging onto his beard, something you noticed he does whenever he feels tensed.
You rubbed his bicep and squeezed it a little, your hand unconsciously walk up to his face and you scratch his thick beard. He smiles a little, but his eyes are glistened with tears like glass balls.
Things weren't going his way, for years and years, and today he wished he could finally do something he wanted. You didn't mind if you got the chance to dine at the restaurant or took your date home, what you only cared for was Michael's presence with you. But to him, it seemed like today too is going wrong and he has no clue how to fix it.
And you truly hated to see Michael angry or sad, he doesn't deserve to feel any of that. He's a sweetheart, he never put you down, so you have to keep him up.
"Have I told ya about the one time I almost died?" you ask him, and he clearly shifts demeanor to your question, you hide a smile waiting for his answer. Your ways might be effective after all.
He shook his head with knitted brows, you nodded and hummed. "Well, that day, I was picking up coffee from the shop I'm a regular for," you start, and you notice him directing all his being to you, "that day, me favorite waiter wasn't there to get me order, and another one got it," you leant onto the glass, after getting closer to him so the umbrella would cover the two of you better.
"But, when me order arrived, it was a wrong one, and I was really mad, I told the waiter to change it, but he couldn't, they can't give the drink to someone else and they're not allowed to throw it away," you got closer, and Michael was so integrated into the story.
"So I had to accept it, but I was still so angry at that, I wasn't seeing things clearly, and I was crossing the street and a car almost hit me!" you tell animatily, Michael was shocked.
"Ya didn't hurt yerself pet, did ya?" he was worried and you loved his face when he was.
You huffed a chuckle and shook your head, "I didn't hurt meself, and didn't spill me coffee either, and when I arrived to the bookshop and took a sip of it, I discovered that it was so much better than me regular order," you shrugged, Michael smiled but he wanted to know more, "and now it's me new regular."
Suddenly, the lights came back, as the night had already fallen. Michael's face lit up a little and you grinned to that. You walk into the place and the receptionist leads you to your table with plenty of apologies. Michael helps you into your seat and settles down his, released a breath he wasn't aware he was holding.
You reach out for his hand across the table, pulling him out of the cloud forming over his head. "It's okay, Mikey... We're inside now," you offer him a smile, he smiles back, you rub his knuckles with your thumb.
A waitress approaches your table with a note in hand, Michael took a deep breath and looked up at her. She asks for your dinner of choice. You look at Michael, informing him that you want him to order for the two of you, that you want what he wants.
"Two Seared Scallops with Pomegranate and Meyer Lemon," Michael answered after taking a glance at the menu then you. You nodded with a smile.
The waitress nods and takes her way back to the kitchen. Michael smiles at you, but his face drains of all blood when he sees the waitress approaching your table with an apologetic smile. "We truly apologize, sir and ma'am, but we're out of scallops and they won't be arriving today. Ye're gonna have ta change yer order," she tries to break the news as gentle as possible.
Michael is frustrated, his thick brows are firmly knitted over his gentle eyes, you caught them lose their shine, and you had to do something about it.
"It's fine, we can have steak, mashed potatoes, and wine, right Michael?" you had to give him a choice too. He looks up at you, you tilt your head to the side with a soft smile. He nods.
"Alright, two steaks... How d'ya like yer steak, ma'am?" the waitress asks. "Medium well," she nods to your answer and turns to look at Michael.
"And how d'ya like yer steak, sir?" you sneak your hand and place it on his, sending a supportive smile his way. He respires, "same as hers." he answers.
The waitress nods and walks back to the kitchen once again. You turn to face Michael, "I wouldn't mind if we never ate here, I just enjoy sitting with ya, Mikey," you hold his hand, he almost sobs, you reach out for his other hand, now fondling both of them. "It's you Michael, I ain't here fer the fancy dinner or the expensive wine, I'm here fer ya Mikey baby."
He finally smiles. "Thank you, pet," he whispers. You shake your head, "t's notin', Mikey."
Another waiter arrives with a tray of wine and globular glasses. The waiter pours your glass first and turns to pour Michael's—when he accidentally smacks your glass and he spills it onto your dress.
You hiss at the sudden cold wetness, trying your best not to curse or cry—because you too feel the world isn't working its best way with you today.
You close your eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to stop the tears from forming.
The waiter keeps apologizing, and you already know how Michael's reaction might be without even opening your eyes and looking at him.
But you can't let this day go bad, you still have a chance to fix it, you can make it 100% better with your reaction, you can stop the chain of bad occurrences.
You open your eyes and look up at the waiter, "it's alright I... I just need a towel..." he rushes back to the kitchen. You grabbed a napkin off the table and tried to absorb the wine spilled on your dress.
"Tha' fuckin' idiot..." Michael curses.
You chuckle, "it's okay, Mikey, me dress is red, it won't change notin', I'll be fine."
Once you made sure most of the dampness was gone, you readjusted yourself in front of Michael, wearing a beaming smile on your pretty face.
His eyes fondly meet yours and you're flustered, looking down at the silverware displayed on the table.
"How are ya like tha'?" Michael asked, resting his cheek in his palm. You looked up at him, and he's got the sweetest smile you've ever seen him doing. His eyes beautifully sparkled to the golden lights of the candles.
"Like what?" you answer with a question. He gestures at you with his chin.
"How're ya such a beam of light?" you turn red at his question, "how are ya, after all tha', still smilin' and tryin' ta make it work?"
"Well," you swallowed with a smile, "bad things won't stop happenin' t'ya, Mikey love, that's somethin' ya should keep in mind, but they can't stop ya from looking at the bright side of it all." Michael furrowed in participation.
"Y'know? I'll never get a chance ta make that day perfect more than it is now," you simply say, "and if I would get a chance ta fix anythin', I wouldn't, because it's already going perfect f'me."
The two of you spend the rest of the evening on nibbling and chattering. Your dress was now cold and sticking to your thighs but you didn't mind, the food turned stale and cold but you didn't care; as long as it was Michael with you, you didn't mind anything else in the world.
Michael pays for the dinner and accompanies you to the exit. The two of you look outside, the rain is heavily pouring over the city, and it's loud enough you could hear it from behind the glass door.
You turn to look at him, he smiles and nods, pushing the door and escorting you with an arm wrapping you to his side.
You step into the street under the rain and you're immediately showered. You snicker, holding Michael's hand and looking at him, your eyes asking him to join you. Michael giggles as he follows you, now holding the two of your hands softly as the skies decanted its whole heart on the two of you.
"Y'know ya can't wait for the rain ta stop. It's always raining in Dublin anyway, Mikey." you whisper, he smiles and cradles your cheeks and he pulls you into a kiss, warming your hearts under the cold downpour.
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Likes and reblogs are appreciated, thank you for coming to my sleepover celebration! 💞💞💞
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