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#and then just like. kind of fading into the background for most of the movie
lesbiandatekaname · 1 year
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barbie star light adventure was not the best barbie movie in the world but you also have to admit that it supremely fucks that the plot of the movie is that the stars are dying. and not like in the astronomy sense that stars do, stars are thinking, feeling beings in this world that are all dying one by one and as they die so does the universe.
and also sal-lee was real cool.
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cordeliawhohung · 8 months
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what kind of drunk is shy!reader? and how does mafia!simon handle her at that state?
oooh! very interesting question!
first off, i think it would be very difficult to get her to drink. not that she's opposed to drinking or wanting to stay sober or anything, i just think she really doesn't want to drink in social settings. like she would not be getting drunk at Price's club or anything like that. she'd want to make sure she's really in control of herself and aware of her surroundings. so when she does drink, she's only really drinking around close friends and people she knows!
which usually means that she only really gets drunk around Simon. because of course he's the person she feels most comfortable being around. he'll make her the tasty fruity drinks while he's sipping on his whiskey and she talks a lot. way more than she does when she's sober. it's like all her worries and filters just vanish, and she'll just talk about whatever's on her mind.
"i like your tattoos."
"yeah?"
"yeah. you should let me color them. please? i think that'd look neat. do you like purple? i feel like purple would look really good here."
"whatever you like, sweetheart."
she also gets really touchy. not like in a weird way but she's just always leaning against him, trying to cuddle, play with his hair, trace the lines on his palm, that sort of thing. we've seen in other one shots that she's a little anxious with PDA but really, she's a little touch starved.
fuck it i'm writing a blurb under the cut.
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there was nowhere else you'd rather be than in the warm cage of your boyfriend's arms. curled in his lap, you sat with your head nestled into the side of his neck where you could feel the rise and fall of his chest and the steady beating of his heart. whatever show or movie you had been watching faded away into background noise as the fuzzy drunkenness of your brain cloaked your body and all its senses.
"hold me," you whispered, speech slurred.
"i am holdin' you," Simon retorted.
"more."
he chuckled as he squeezed his arms tight, firmly pulling you into him as if trying to consume you through osmosis. and though it was constricting, it felt nice, like laying under a heavy blanket in winter.
"i love you," you admitted as you curled into him. "you're so warm. i wanna bite you. we should cuddle more often." you paused to place a few kisses against the soft side of his neck. "you smell good. would you be mad if i bit you?"
the poor man was at an utter loss for words, and for a moment he could only shake his head and laugh. "you're gettin' feisty."
"you hate me."
there was something cute about how carefree you got when you were drunk that just had Simon wrapped around your finger. without the anxiety and worry holding you down, you had become something of a chatterbox. one that he could listen to all day. but it was getting late, and he needed to cut you off eventually.
"i'm gonna take you to bed, yeah?" he prompted as he slowly began to position his arms to pick you up.
"are we having sex?" you asked.
taken aback, Simon shook his head. "not right now."
"why not?" you questioned, confused.
"you're drunk."
"oh." a pause. "we're still cuddling."
"'course."
I LOVE THEM YOUR HONOR
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fruitjoos · 2 months
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★ NSFW, 18+ MDNI | ART DONALDSON, PATRICK ZWEIG
Be a good girlfriend.
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part one, part two
you and patrick were spending the weekend in art's dorm for a much anticipated movie night.
patrick had excitedly brought back a supernatural film he'd been raving about, and the plan was simple: you'd handle the popcorn, and art was supposed to get the drinks. of course, art had grumbled about this arrangement. "why do i have to do anything when it’s my room and my tv we’re using?" he'd complained, rolling his eyes.
as art flicked the light switch off, signaling the start of the movie, you resolved not to nag him about neglecting the drink duty. however, the popcorn quickly turned into a dry, choking hazard. barely able to swallow, you coughed and spluttered, forcing art to pause the movie before the production company logo even appeared.
“babe,” you whined, your voice rasping, “i’m so thirsty! the popcorn is killing me. please, i'm begging you.” you clutched at art’s shoulder with desperation.
patrick groaned dramatically from the other side of art. “we’re never gonna watch the fucking movie,” he muttered.
“shut up,” you snapped, turning your pleading eyes back to art.
art sighed theatrically and rose from the bed. “fine, i’ll go get some drinks from the vending machine,” he conceded, grabbing some bills from his wallet and tossing it onto his desk.
“i love you!” you yelled as he closed the door, mumbling a yeah, yeah in response.
“okay, we’re alone,” patrick said, turning to face you with wide eyes and raised brows, “let’s make out.” he smirked.
“no, you freak. he's right outside the door,” you tossed a few pieces of popcorn at him. undeterred, he crawled toward you on his hands and knees, his eyes smoldering with desire. “like that’s ever stopped us,” he murmured, kissing your lips. “you’ve jerked me off while we were sleeping in the same bed,” he mumbled against your mouth, the heat of his breath mingling with yours. “so stop pretending to be the good girlfriend you’re not.” his words stung, a sharp contrast to the softness of his touch.
“what?” you retorted, stopping his chest before he could lean in again, momentarily stunned by his brutal honesty. the weight of his accusation hanging heavily in the air between you.
he quickly retracted to his original spot, your heart pounding as the door creaked open. glancing over at you, he saw the confusion in your eyes as art spoke. what had he said wrong? his mind raced, replaying the words he thought were witty, the ones he was sure would make you smile and call him stupid, maybe even laugh. but now, doubt gnawed at him, a sinking feeling settling in his chest.
"okay, blue gatorade," he said, forcing a smile as he tossed the bottle to patrick, who caught it effortlessly. "and water for my sweet girl," he added, his voice softer. he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before placing the cold bottle in your lap.
"thank you," you mumbled, barely audible, your eyes avoiding his as you leaned back against his pillow.
as the movie flickered across the screen, you shifted, trying to find the most comfortable position on his full-size bed. finally, you settled on laying flat on your stomach, your legs lightly kicking against the headboard. your head rested in art’s lap, as he sat in the space between you and patrick leaned against the wall. the blanket sprawled across them.
you were a good girlfriend, you kept reminding yourself, the thought looping in your mind like a mantra. he’s just a bad friend. okay, maybe you had jerked him off that one time, but it was just once. a mistake. girls make mistakes sometimes. who was patrick to tell you what kind of person you were? the irritation flared within you; patrick, who could barely tell his left from his right, had no right to judge you.
the movie’s dialogue faded into the background as your thoughts consumed you. you could feel the warmth of art’s body, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your shoulder.
you are a good girlfriend.
you slipped your hand underneath the blanket covering art's lower half, your fingers tracing a delicate path up his thigh. the warmth of his skin sent a shiver through you, a thrill that made your heart race. art cleared his throat, the sound almost imperceptible over the movie's dialogue, but you felt the tension in his body.
he grabbed a pillow, placing it strategically between himself and patrick, creating a makeshift barrier to shield your actions from view. the intimacy of the moment was intensified by the secrecy, a silent agreement hanging in the air between you and art. his leg muscles tensed under your touch, and you could sense his effort to remain composed.
he tried to make sliding down his gym shorts appear casual, making it seem like he was smoothing out the perfectly unwrinkled blanket. you pulled your hand back out, and brought it up to your lips, spitting out a gob of your sticky saliva right into your palm, cuffing your hand to be sure you don’t spill any of it.
your hand found its way back to his shaft. he jumped at your cold touch as you pumped his dick at a steady pace. the thick meat warming up between your fingers. you gazed up at him, his eyes glued to the screen. “you like the movie?” you whisper. “mhmm,” he gulped. you squeezed him in your palm, “fu–yeah, i love the movie.”
patrick's attention was abruptly drawn to the weird exchange unfolding beside him. his gaze drifting towards the subtle, yet unmistakable, rustling beneath the blanket. as he cautiously lifted his eyes, they collided with yours. you were already staring at him, a mischievous smirk plucked at the corners of your mouth.
he silently scoffed, turning back to the movie. small whimpers left art’s throat as you tugged on his now rock solid cock. up and down. shlick, shlick, shlick. now that patrick knew what was going on, you could be as wild as you wanted to be, making it known that he wasn’t apart of the fun.
you ducked your head under the comforter, slapping his thick, hot cock on the heart of your tongue. spit drooled from your mouth as you swallowed him through your supple lips. art’s mouth hung open with his eyes closed, not caring how crazy he looked to anybody else watching. his brows furrowed from the pleasure of your warm, velvety tongue slurping him up. you licked and slobbed, making a popping noise as you came up for air.
you pushed the blanket from both you and art. exposing his glistening boner, covered in spit. he scolded you, shouting your name, embarrassed as if neither of the people in the room haven’t already seen it.
“what the fuck?” patrick said, shaking his head. irritation rather than confusion etched across his face. he wasn’t confused at all. “shut up,” you straddled art’s waist, kissing and rocking your clothed pussy against his bare cock, “i need to fuck you so bad,” you breathed out, tilting his head back to kiss his lips.
“patrick’s in here,” he clenched his teeth, pressing down your hips to stop your movement. “he can join if he wants,” you smirked, leaning back on the bed to pull off your shorts and underwear, giving patrick a clear shot of your sopping cunt. “or he can sit there and watch. like the good friend i know he’s not.” you said, mocking his words from earlier, climbing back on top of art.
you and art both waited on his response, breathing heavily.
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mononijikayu · 1 month
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ligaya — itadori yuuji.
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“I’ve tried everything, guys!” Yuuji moaned, his voice muffled against the table. “I sang songs from outside their dorm window! Serenaded them like they do in those old movies! And I even left notes on their locker every day for a week, with little snacks. But nothing! Absolutely nothing! They just keep saying no!” Nobara snorted, taking a sip of her coffee. “Maybe because you’re coming on way too strong? That’s what I’d do if someone kept bugging me. And really, are they even into men?” Megumi sighed, crossing his arms and nodding. “Nobara’s right, though. Are they even into men?” Yuuji’s head shot up, eyes wide and desperate. “They are! They told me! But I don’t want to bug them! I just… I just want them to see how much I care! How much I—” He faltered, feeling the weight of his own words. “How much I love them.”
GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;
WARNING/s: Fluff, Romance, Love At First Sight, Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Friendship, Confessions, Humor, Getting Together, Mutual Affection, Love, Pining, Kissing, Hugging, Track and Field! Yuuji, Pole Vaulter! Reader;
WORDS: 5.3k words.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: i got the idea for this after i kept seeing olympic couples and olympians and their partners just be the epitome of love in paris. itadori yuuji just felt perfect for something like this. and so does the song ligaya by eraserheads. anyway, i love you all!!! ill see you guys on together. that's about to get sad, but im not sure if it will have sad smut. we shall see~
main masterlist
if you want to, tip! <3
 *:゜☆ヽ(*’∀’*)/☆゜:。*。
IF HE SPOKE TO HIS CHILD SELF, HE WOULD NOT BELIEVE IT. Because, how can he explain it? Him? The Itadori Yuuji— head over heels in love. It felt like a fever dream that can only come from fantasies. How could he be in love at all?
How did this even happen? When he swore that he didn’t need that in his life? Over doing his track practice? More than his mother’s food? He thinks that his younger self would have ended up with a coma. Hell, maybe Todo or his brothers — even Uncle Sukuna would be in shock.
Itadori Yuuji never imagined himself as the kind of guy who’d fall head over heels in love. Sure, he was friendly, enthusiastic, and had a smile for just about everyone, but love? It seemed like an impossible notion.
Perhaps an even more ridiculous thing. A feeling that was not for him, not in that way most people dream of. That was for other people, is what he always said—until you transferred into his department. 
The moment Yuuji first laid eyes on you, it was like the world around him faded into the background, leaving only you and the pole vault. He had seen countless athletes, witnessed incredible feats of strength and agility, but nothing prepared him for the sight of you.
The way you moved, your body soaring through the air with effortless grace, made it seem like defying gravity was just second nature to you. To him, it was like watching poetry in motion—a dance between you and the sky.
Something inside him shifted as he watched you clear the bar with ease, your landing smooth and controlled, as if you had done it a thousand times before. In that moment, he felt an unfamiliar pull, a deep, unexplainable connection that made his heart race. You were different—strong, confident, and so completely at ease in your own skin.
It wasn’t just your athleticism that drew him in, though that was certainly part of it. It was the way you seemed to own every moment, how you faced challenges head-on, your eyes always focused on the next goal. There was a fire in you, a determination that Yuuji couldn’t help but admire.
He didn’t know why he felt so drawn to you, why his heart beat a little faster whenever you were near. All he knew was that something had changed, like a switch had been flipped inside him. It didn’t take long for him to realize that he was in deep—so deep that there was no going back.
It was as though he had never truly seen the sun before that moment, like he had been wandering through life in a shadowy half-light, only to look up at you, soaring above the earth, and finally see the full brilliance of day. You were the sun, radiating warmth and light, and for the first time, Yuuji felt truly alive.
So, Yuuji did what he did best—he jumped in with both feet, headfirst and heart open, determined to win you over. It was how he approached everything in life, with boundless energy and optimism, believing that if he just gave it his all, anything was possible. He didn’t hesitate to show you how much you meant to him, wearing his heart on his sleeve, unafraid to make grand gestures.
He showed up at your practices, cheering you on, even when you barely acknowledged him. He left notes in your locker, little reminders that he was thinking of you, that he was rooting for you, no matter what. He even stood outside your dorm window one night, singing a goofy love song, hoping to make you smile.
But you kept saying no.
Each time, you turned him down, politely but firmly. You appreciated his efforts, you said, but you were focused on your sport, on your goals. There wasn’t room for distractions, and you couldn’t afford to let anyone—no matter how sweet or determined—get in the way of what you were trying to achieve.
Yuuji understood, or at least he tried to. But it didn’t make it any easier. Every “no” felt like a small cut, stinging just a bit more than the last. But despite the rejection, Yuuji couldn’t bring himself to stop. There was something about you, something that kept pulling him back, making him want to try again, to prove that he could be the one to make you happy.
And it wasn’t the kind of no that meant “maybe later” or “try harder,” it was a clear, polite, and definitive no. You were kind about it, of course, always smiling and thanking him for the effort, but Yuuji could see through it. Because that’s who you were. You were sunshine itself.
And so each time, even if it became repetitive, you smiled at him and treated him kindly. Even though you weren’t interested, you were interested in being his friend and perhaps, he could live with that. But something in him, the most honest part of him knew that he couldn’t let go. 
Each time you turned him away, Yuuji felt the sting, but he also felt the same determination rising within him. He wasn’t discouraged; he was driven. He saw each rejection as a challenge, a new hurdle to overcome, much like the ones he faced on the track.
And just like in his races, he wasn’t going to back down until he crossed the finish line. To Yuuji, it wasn’t about winning you over for the sake of it—it was about showing you that someone could care that much, that deeply, and that no matter how many times he fell, he’d always get back up. Because to him, you were worth every effort, every bruise, and every tear.
Today here he was, sitting in the school’s café, his head on the table, groaning as Megumi Fushiguro and Nobara Kugisaki sat across from him, trying their best to look patient. They were supposed to be working on their on class presentation for Cardiorespiratory Fitness by now, but with Yuuji being an utter lovestruck mess — his two friends were sure that they wouldn’t be able to get any work done.
“I’ve tried everything, guys!” Yuuji moaned, his voice muffled against the table. “I sang songs from outside their dorm window! Serenaded them like they do in those old movies! And I even left notes on their locker every day for a week, with little snacks. But nothing! Absolutely nothing! They just keep saying no!”
Nobara snorted, taking a sip of her coffee. “Maybe because you’re coming on way too strong? That’s what I’d do if someone kept bugging me. And really, are they even into men?”
Megumi sighed, crossing his arms and nodding. “Nobara’s right, though. Are they even into men?”
Yuuji’s head shot up, eyes wide and desperate. “They are! They told me! But I don’t want to bug them! I just… I just want them to see how much I care! How much I—” He faltered, feeling the weight of his own words. “How much I love them.”
Megumi raised an eyebrow. “Love? Yuuji, that’s pretty heavy. Are you sure it’s love?”
Yuuji nodded, his shoulders slumping. “Yeah, I think I really do. I just want to be part of their world, you know? Make them happy, love them. I’d even help with their thesis if that’s what it takes! And that says a lot, because we’re on different levels! They’re smarter!”
Nobara rolled her eyes, though there was a hint of sympathy in her expression. “You can’t make someone love you, Yuuji. Maybe you should back off a bit and just be their friend. They might appreciate that more.”
Yuuji sighed, his shoulders slumping as he thought about it. The idea of stepping back, of not doing everything he could to win you over, made his heart ache. He had poured so much of himself into trying to make you see how much he cared, but maybe Nobara was right.
“But what if they never see me as more than that?” he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “What if I’m just that annoying guy who keeps bothering them?”
Nobara softened at his vulnerability. She wasn’t used to seeing Yuuji like this—so unsure, so worried. “Yuuji, you’re not annoying. Well, not more than usual.” she said, her tone gentler than before.
"Hey!"
“But listen, you’re sweet, and anyone can see how much you care. But sometimes, people need space. They need time to figure out their own feelings without any pressure. If you really care about them, you’ll give them that space.”
Yuuji nodded slowly, but the doubt lingered. He had always been the type to go all in, to give everything he had to the people he cared about. Holding back didn’t come naturally to him. “I just don’t want to lose them.” he admitted, his voice almost a whisper.
Megumi, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke up, his tone measured and calm. “Yuuji, you won’t lose them by giving them space. In fact, it might be what they need to see you in a different light. But you have to be patient, and you have to respect their choice.”
Yuuji looked at Megumi, searching his friend’s eyes for reassurance. “But what if they never change their mind? What if they never see me the way I see them?”
Megumi leaned forward, his gaze steady and full of understanding. “Then you have to accept that.” he said firmly. “It’s hard, I know. But you can’t force someone to feel something they don’t. If they ever change their mind, they’ll let you know. But until then, don’t push too hard. It’ll only make things worse.”
Yuuji absorbed Megumi’s words, the weight of them settling heavily in his chest. He knew Megumi was right—it wasn’t fair to push you into something you weren’t ready for, or maybe something you didn’t want at all. But the thought of just being your friend, of stepping back, felt like giving up on something he wanted more than anything.
Nobara reached out, placing a hand on Yuuji’s shoulder. “Look, I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but sometimes, being a good friend is more important than trying to be something more. If you really care about them, you’ll be there for them, no matter what. And who knows? Maybe that’s what they need to realize how special you are.”
Yuuji looked between his two friends, their words sinking in. It wasn’t the answer he wanted, but deep down, he knew it was the right one. “Okay,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with resignation. “I’ll back off… but I won’t stop caring.”
Megumi nodded approvingly. “That’s all you can do, Yuuji. Just be yourself, and let them come to you if they’re ready.”
Nobara smiled, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “And remember, you’re not alone in this. We’re here for you, no matter what happens.”
Yuuji managed a small smile, the weight in his chest easing just a little. “Thanks, guys. I appreciate it.” 
Nobara nodded approvingly, while Megumi gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. Yuuji might have been hopelessly in love, but at least he was starting to understand that sometimes, the best way to love someone was to let them come to you in their own time. And he’ll be patient. He knows how to do that. His brother Choso taught him how to be. 
As they continued to sit together, Yuuji couldn’t help but feel a mix of hope and uncertainty. He didn’t know what the future held, but he was grateful for friends who would support him through it all. For now, he’d focus on being the best friend he could be. And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough. It had to be. He believes it to be.
Over the next few days, Yuuji did his best to dial things back. He still watched you from afar during practice, his heart skipping a beat every time you cleared the bar with that effortless grace. But instead of approaching you with grand gestures or serenades, he tried to be more subtle, more considerate. 
He’d offer a friendly wave when you caught his eye and cheer you on quietly during your pole vaulting sessions. Every now and then, he’d strike up casual conversations, asking how your day was going or chatting about track and field events. It wasn’t easy, though. Every time he saw you, he had to fight the urge to blurt out how he felt, to tell you that all he wanted was to be with you. 
One afternoon, you were sitting on a bench after practice, cooling down and scrolling through your phone when Yuuji approached you cautiously. He noticed that you seemed a little tired, maybe even a bit stressed.
“Hey.” he said, trying to keep his tone light and nonchalant. “How’s it going? You look like you could use a break.”
You glanced up at him, offering a small smile. “Yeah, just a bit tired. Been working on my thesis, and it’s been kind of a headache.”
Yuuji’s eyes lit up. This was it—an opportunity to help you without being too pushy. “Really? What’s it about? Maybe I could help somehow?”
You hesitated for a moment, and Yuuji’s heart raced, hoping you wouldn’t shut him down again. But then you sighed and leaned back on the bench. “It’s about the biomechanics of pole vaulting, actually. I’m trying to analyze different techniques and how they affect performance, but the data’s all over the place.”
Yuuji nodded, trying to focus on what you were saying rather than the fact that you were actually talking to him about something important. “That sounds tough. But hey, I’m pretty good at organizing stuff—maybe I could help you sort through the data or something?”
To his surprise, you didn’t immediately say no. Instead, you looked at him thoughtfully, as if weighing your options. “You really want to help?”
“Of course!” Yuuji said quickly, not wanting to sound too eager but failing miserably. “I mean, only if you want me to. I don’t want to, you know, be a bother.”
You chuckled softly, the sound making his heart skip a beat. “Alright, Yuuji. I could use an extra pair of eyes on this. But just so you know, it’s going to be boring. Like, really boring.”
Yuuji grinned, feeling a surge of hope. “Boring’s fine with me. As long as I can help you out.”
Over the next few weeks, you and Yuuji spent more time together, working on your thesis. He was true to his word—organizing data, making notes, and offering encouragement whenever you hit a rough patch. He didn’t push his feelings, didn’t try to force anything. Instead, he focused on being there for you, just as Megumi and Nobara had suggested.
And as time went on, you started to see a different side of Yuuji. He wasn’t just the guy who sang outside your window or left notes in your locker. He was kind, patient, and genuinely interested in your work. He made you laugh, and he always seemed to know when you needed a break or a bit of encouragement.
One evening, after hours of working on your thesis, you were utterly exhausted. The words on the screen blurred together, your eyes heavy with sleep. You leaned back in your chair, rubbing your temples, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on you.
Yuuji, who had been quietly organizing some of your research papers, noticed the slump in your shoulders and the tired sigh that escaped your lips. Without a word, he stood up and walked over to you.
“Hey,” he said softly, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You’ve been at this for hours. Why don’t you take a break?”
You shook your head, trying to muster the energy to keep going. “I can’t. I still have so much to do, and the deadline is coming up fast.”
Yuuji crouched down beside you, his eyes filled with concern. “I know, but you’re going to burn yourself out if you keep pushing like this. Just a short break, okay? I’ll make you some tea, and we can relax for a bit.”
Before you could protest, Yuuji was already in the kitchen, brewing a pot of your favorite tea. You watched him move with practiced ease, grateful for his presence. When he returned, he handed you a steaming mug and smiled. “Here, drink this. It’ll help you relax.”
You took the mug, feeling the warmth seep into your hands, and let out a tired sigh. “Thanks, Yuuji. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Yuuji’s smile softened as he pulled a blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over your shoulders. “You don’t have to do everything on your own, you know. I’m here to help. And right now, you need to rest.”
He gently guided you to the couch, where you reluctantly settled down, your exhaustion finally catching up with you. Yuuji sat beside you, his presence comforting and reassuring. As you sipped your tea, the tension in your body began to ease, your eyelids growing heavier by the second.
Yuuji noticed the way you were fighting to stay awake, and with a soft chuckle, he reached out and lightly ruffled your hair. “It’s okay if you want to close your eyes for a bit. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
You looked at him, his warm eyes and gentle smile, and suddenly, you didn’t feel so overwhelmed anymore. The stress that had been weighing you down seemed to lift, replaced by a sense of peace you hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Maybe just for a little while, you know?” you mumbled, already feeling yourself drifting off.
Yuuji nodded, watching as your eyes slowly closed, your breathing evening out as sleep took over. He stayed by your side, keeping watch as you slept, ready to offer support the moment you needed it. And as he looked at you, peaceful and relaxed, he felt a deep sense of contentment. This was all he wanted—to be there for you, to make sure you were okay, to be part of your world in whatever way you would allow.
As the evening turned into night, Yuuji gently adjusted the blanket around you, making sure you were comfortable. He leaned back against the couch, feeling the steady rhythm of your breathing beside him, and smiled to himself. He didn’t need anything else. As long as he could be there for you, that was enough.
When you woke up the next morning, your eyes fluttered softly against the sunlight streaming in through the window. You felt warmth beside you, and as you turned your head, inches away was Itadori Yuuji, still fast asleep. He was snoring softly, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.
For a moment, you just watched him, taking in the peaceful expression on his face. You’d never noticed before how calm and serene everything felt when he was around. It was as if all the chaos in your mind quieted just by being near him.
A soft sigh escaped your lips, almost one of relief. You were glad that it was him—that he was the one who stayed with you, who was always there. This sweet angel, who had gone out of his way to support you, to make sure you were okay.
“I might as well cook you some breakfast.” you whispered to yourself, smiling at the thought. You carefully stood up, making sure not to wake him. As you passed by him, you couldn’t resist letting your fingers brush lightly through his fuchsia hair. “You worked hard, Yuuji.” you murmured, your voice filled with affection.
You made your way to the kitchen, the lingering warmth of his presence still wrapping around you. As you started preparing breakfast, the sound of sizzling eggs and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the small space. It wasn’t long before you heard a soft rustling from the couch, followed by a sleepy yawn.
Yuuji appeared in the doorway, rubbing his eyes, his hair adorably tousled. When he saw you, a bashful smile spread across his face, and his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “Good….morning.” he greeted you timidly, still half-asleep.
You turned to him, returning his smile. “Good morning, Yuuji. Did at least manage to sleep somewhat okay?”
He nodded, his gaze drifting to the breakfast you were preparing. “Yeah, I did. Thanks… for everything.”
You set down the spatula and walked over to him, your heart warming at his shy demeanor. “No, Yuuji, thank you…..” you said earnestly, your eyes shining. “Thank you for helping me with everything. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
Yuuji’s blush deepened, and he quickly waved off your gratitude as he rubbed the back of his head. “It’s nothing, really. I’m just glad I could help.”
You shook your head, stepping closer until you were standing right in front of him. “It’s not nothing, Yuuji. It’s a big deal to me. You’ve been here, doing all this because… because you’re a good person. And I know it’s also because you like me.”
His eyes widened slightly, and he opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, you continued, your voice growing softer, more vulnerable. “I… I feel something for you too, Yuuji. I didn’t realize it before, but… I do. It’s just… I want to take things slow.”
You lowered your gaze, suddenly feeling shy, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. You didn’t know what he would say, or how he would react, but you needed to be honest with him.
Yuuji stood there for a moment, processing your words. Then, a gentle smile spread across his face, his eyes softening with warmth. “I understand.” he said quietly. He reached out, taking your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We can take it as slow as you need. I’m just happy to know you feel something for me too.”
You looked up at him, relief and happiness washing over you. His hand in yours was warm, comforting, and in that moment, you knew you had made the right choice. “Thank you, Yuuji,” you whispered.
He shook his head, still smiling. “No, thank you. For letting me be part of your world.”
As you stood there, holding hands in the morning light, the aroma of breakfast filling the air, everything felt just right. There was no rush, no pressure—just the promise of something real, something that could grow into something beautiful, one step at a time.
 *:゜☆ヽ(*’∀’*)/☆゜:。*。
YOU MADE IT THE OLYMPICS, THE TWO OF YOU. The day you found out you had qualified for the Olympics felt like a dream. All the hard work, the long hours of training, the sacrifices—it had all paid off. You were going to the Olympics. And as if the universe had planned it, Yuuji had qualified too, in track and field. It was a moment of pure joy, a culmination of everything you’d both worked so hard for. 
But what you hadn’t expected was the way your feelings for Yuuji would grow, almost as if they were catching up to the realization that he had been right there beside you all along.
You admired his determination, his relentless positivity, but you kept your distance, unsure if you could let someone in when you were so focused on your goals. Yet, Itadori Yuuji never wavered. He was at every pole vault tournament, even the ones miles away, often booking tickets last minute just to make sure he was there.
Even if he has to move around stuff for his own practice, even if he had other projects he had to do. It didn't matter. He wanted to be there. He wanted to go and see you and cheer you on. And every time, without fail, whether you won or lost, he would be in the front row, holding flowers and a letter, his bright smile shining through the crowd. 
At first, you didn’t know how to react. How does one manage to, when such devoted acts are offered to you so genuinely, in front of the world? How would one function, when there’s so much love given by one person that it could fill the world with pints of it. You were touched, truly. But of course I was also confused. You could feel your palms sweaty, when he tries to take your hand to hold. Or when he smiles, you feel like you have butterflies in your tummy. 
Was this really just a crush for him? What are crushes supposed to be like? You don’t think you remember. The last time you had a crush, it was on a 2D anime character. And that’s not a real experience. Or was it something more? You had to think it through. You care about him deeply, you do. But what do you actually feel for him? What does he actually mean to you? What is he to you?
Over time, though, as you saw how much he truly cared—not just about you as an athlete, but as a person—you started to see him differently. You noticed how he never pressured you, how he respected your space, but always made it clear that he was there for you, no matter what.
You began to anticipate his presence at your tournaments, looking forward to seeing his face in the crowd. His letters, filled with words of encouragement and affection, became something you treasured, often reading them late at night when you needed a boost.
And then, one day, as you stood on the podium after a particularly grueling tournament, looking out into the crowd, your eyes locked with Yuuji’s. He was holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers, his smile as radiant as ever, but there was something in his eyes—a mixture of pride, love, and unwavering support—that made your heart skip a beat. 
In that moment, you realized that you had fallen for him. 
It wasn’t just his persistence or his kindness; it was the way he made you feel seen and valued, both on and off the field. He didn’t just love you for your achievements—he loved you for who you were, even when you were at your lowest. And that was something you couldn’t ignore anymore.
After the ceremony, you found Yuuji waiting for you, just like he always did. He handed you the flowers, a bashful smile on his face. “You were amazing out there, you know!” he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “But you always are.”
You took the flowers, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the compliments. “Thanks, Yuuji.” you said softly, looking up at him. “For everything. I don’t think I’ve ever told you how much it means to me that you’re always here.”
His eyes widened slightly, surprised by the shift in your tone. “You don’t have to thank me, pretty.” he said quickly. “I just… I just want to be there for you, you know? I care about you. A lot.”
You nodded, taking a deep breath as you felt the words you’d been holding back finally rise to the surface. “I know. And I care about you too, Yuuji. More than I realized.”
For a moment, he just stared at you, as if trying to process what you were saying. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face—one of pure, unfiltered joy. “Really?”
You smiled back, feeling a sense of certainty wash over you. “Really. I think… I think I’ve fallen for you, Yuuji.”
His reaction was immediate—he pulled you into a tight hug, lifting you off your feet as he spun you around, laughing like he’d just won the lottery. When he finally set you down, he looked at you with such adoration that it made your heart flutter. 
“I’ve been waiting to hear that for so long!” he admitted, his voice shaking with emotion. “But it was worth it. Every single second. You will always be worth it. All of it.”
As you stood there, surrounded by the noise of the crowd and the smell of fresh flowers, you realized that your dream had come true in more ways than one. You had qualified for the Olympics, yes, but you had also found something even more precious—someone who loved you for who you were, someone who would stand by your side no matter what. And as you leaned in to kiss Yuuji, you knew that this was just the beginning of something truly beautiful.
 *:゜☆ヽ(*’∀’*)/☆゜:。*。
epilogue 
The energy at the Olympic Stadium was electric, buzzing with anticipation as the final race approached. You sat in the stands, surrounded by a sea of spectators, but your focus was entirely on the track below. Itadori Yuuji stood at the starting line, his gaze steady, his body coiled like a spring ready to launch.
You knew how much this race meant to him—how much he’d poured into his training, how every ounce of his determination was about to be unleashed in those few, crucial seconds.
The announcer’s voice boomed across the stadium, signaling the start, and you held your breath, your heart pounding in sync with the cheers around you. Then, the gun fired, and Yuuji shot forward, a blur of speed and power. The crowd roared, but you were barely aware of it, your eyes locked on him, silently urging him on.
He moved like lightning, his form perfect, his strides long and powerful. You could see the intensity in his every movement, the sheer will driving him forward. As he rounded the final bend, you knew—he was going to do it. He was going to break the world record.
The crowd was on its feet, the noise deafening as Yuuji crossed the finish line, the clock stopping at a time that stunned everyone. A world record. Yuuji had just shattered it.
But even before the cheers had fully erupted, Yuuji’s eyes were scanning the stands, searching for you. The moment he spotted you, he didn’t hesitate. Ignoring the cameras, the officials, and the chaos around him, he sprinted toward you, leaping over the barrier with ease.
And then he was there, in front of you, his chest heaving, sweat glistening on his brow, but his smile was brighter than you’d ever seen it. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms and kissed you, his lips crashing against yours with a passion that took your breath away. The world seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of you in that perfect moment.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes were shining with a mixture of disbelief and pure joy. He laughed, a sound filled with triumph and love, and then he threw his arms up in the air, shouting, “I did it! I did it! I’ve got you and a medal! This is the best day of my life, oh my god!"
The crowd around you erupted into applause and cheers, but all you could focus on was Yuuji—his infectious energy, the way his hands were still holding onto you like he couldn’t believe you were real. His happiness was contagious, and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him, tears of joy filling your eyes.
“You did it, Yuuji!” you whispered, your voice choking with emotion. “Babe, you broke the world record. I’m so proud of you.”
He grinned, pulling you close again, this time resting his forehead against yours. “None of this would’ve meant anything without you here. You’re the one I wanted to share this with. You’re my everything, pretty.”
Your heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice making it clear just how much this moment—and you—meant to him. 
“I love you, Yuuji.” you said softly, cupping his face in your hands.
“I love you too.” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “And this… this is just the beginning. We’ve got so much more to look forward to—together.”
As you stood there, holding each other amidst the chaos and celebration of the Olympic Stadium, you knew that you had found something far greater than any medal or record.
You had found the person who would stand by your side, through every challenge and triumph, the one who had captured your heart with his unwavering love and dedication. And as Yuuji lifted you off the ground, spinning you around with pure, uncontainable joy, you realized that you had truly won in every way that mattered.
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beardedjoel · 11 months
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sugar rush
joel miller x f!reader
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event masterlist prompt: your desperate neighbor, joel miller, runs out of candy for the trick-or-treaters and comes to you. it turns out you've both been keeping a secret from each other; 4.7k words warnings: mostly cute fluff and pining, makeout sesh, they stay flirting, joel miller is a gentleman *saluting emoji* a/n: loved writing a fluffy little piece for my ppcu darlings for this event, happy halloween and i hope everyone enjoys all the fics we've been writing for you all!
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The last thing you’d wanted was to do something extravagant for Halloween this year. You watched friends planning to go out to parties, ones with kids plotting all their family costumes. But what you really want is a peaceful night in, passing out candy and eating popcorn with a scary movie in the background, spending time in your own cozy cocoon. Work has been relentless the last few months, stressful and draining, and you’re happy to just relax with candy stolen from your candy bowl for the trick-or-treaters. 
The first hour of little ones comes and goes, all of their costumes more adorable than the last, getting a chance to quickly catch up with some of your neighbors as they pass through. It’s just the evening you wanted, you convince yourself once again as you listen carefully to your popcorn in the microwave to make sure you don’t overcook it. 
You feel a twinge deep inside, maybe some kind of loneliness hitting you while you feel the emptiness of your home pressing in on your heart. You’d not been having the best luck with dating recently, you knew that, and refused to believe the real reason was that there was someone you were interested in, but didn’t have the heart to pursue it. So instead, you had spent the better part of this week persuading yourself you were happy to spend the holiday by yourself, to get this much needed alone time. 
You silently thank the universe when your doorbell rings again, bringing you out of your thought train that was heading towards a swift derailing into depression. You put on a smile before whipping the door open, expecting another group of kids dressed to the nines. Instead, your eyes flick up from child height to your neighbor, Joel Miller. He’s standing in a faded black band t-shirt that’s hugging his biceps, and when you finally pull your eyes to his face, it’s adorned with a shy little smile on his lips. His hair looks like he’s been running his fingers through it a few too many times today, tousled and sticking up, and his tan skin looks somehow stunning in the shitty light of your porch. How he manages to look this good all the time baffles you.
“Joel? Um, hey,” you stutter out awkwardly, hoping he can’t see that your cheeks now feel like they’re burning as they always do when you meet his intense, chocolatey gaze. “Here to trick or treat? I’m not sure what your costume is, though.”
Joel chuckles, his face lighting up and you feel your insides warm at the fact that you made him laugh. “Wish I was, but no. I actually, er…” He rubs the back of his neck nervously. “I ran out of candy, was hopin’ I could…” he says, the last part more quiet, half hoping you didn’t hear his embarrassing confession. 
“Oh, y-you need some?” you reply, fidgeting your fingers in front of you. You glance over at your candy bowl, still over half full - you tend to go overboard on most things, and this was no exception. Anxiety had taken over you in the grocery store aisles and made you a different person, filling your cart with way more candy than accounted for kids in your neighborhood.
“I figured, y’know, think I might know ya best around here, and well, your light was on. The McCarthy’s don’t seem to be participatin’ this year.”
You have a flurry of emotions - amusement at Joel’s predicament, excitement that he’d chosen to come to you, and absolute screaming, jumping up and down joy that he’d thought he knew you the best of all his neighbors. The outside of you nowhere near matches the inside as you just give him a sweet, reserved smile.
“Those cranky bastards,” you say with a chuckle that Joel reciprocates. “Well, come on in, you can have some of mine. It’s kind of slowed down the last little while, though. But feel free to take whatever you need. Lord knows I don’t need this much leftover candy in my house tomorrow.”
“I’d kinda like to see you runnin’ around your lawn with a sugar rush, though,” Joel teases as he steps inside and you close the door behind him. Your brows raise slightly in surprise - Joel seems in an uncommonly great mood tonight. Not that he’s unkind, by any means, he’s just not typically the most chipper person you’ve ever met. 
“Not so funny when I crash and pass out and you have to drag me back inside,” you quip back to him, and his smile goes a little crooked, which sets your heart jumping inside your chest. You’d been harboring a bit of a crush - okay, more than a crush, you admit to yourself - on your neighbor for a while now, too afraid to say anything about it, or even flirt too forwardly most of the time for fear of rejection. You figured he was just a nice guy, and you had helped each other out in a pinch a few times, attended a few of the same barbecues, or waved as you passed by. You’d fallen more quickly for his gorgeous little accent and rugged looks than you’d cared to admit to yourself, and these feelings didn’t seem to be going anywhere any time soon. You’d even started to wonder lately if the reason your dating life hadn’t been the most lively and successful was that you were still holding out hope that maybe, just maybe, Joel felt the same way about you. 
“Might be kinda a good look for me - neighborhood hero an’ all, savin’ you,” he says, his smile growing a bit. 
You roll your eyes playfully, feigning hurt. “And at my expense? That’s cold, Joel Miller.”
Joel laughs and holds up a small bag he’d brought over, hoping to take home his spoils. He’s filling it when the doorbell rings another time, and you start a little, so caught up in watching his broad, muscled form moving. You rush over to open it to a few small kids standing outside, not over the age of eight or so, all screaming TRICK OR TREAT! You laugh heartily and greet them all, gushing about how perfect their costumes are. You hold out your bowl of candy to them, letting them choose what they’d like and they all giggle at your compliments and little jokes. 
Joel has stopped to stare, enamored with your sweetness in this moment, how good you are with the kids. Hell, Sarah is much older than these three little ones, but he’d seen how good you are with her, too. She seems to adore you, asking after you any time it’s been a while since she’s seen you. Joel’s lips tug up into a smile, just now noticing how cute your Halloween pajamas are - black bottoms with little jack-o-lantern’s printed all over them and a black tank top. Now that he was noticing, he tries not to bite his lip when he sees just how tight the tank top is, how well it hugs your body as it slides up along your back a little when you bend down towards the kids’ level.
You wave your goodbye and turn back to Joel, face glowing from the big grin you’d put on for the kids. 
“So cute, right?” you say, hiking a thumb over your shoulder towards the front door.
“Miss that age,” Joel murmurs before he can stop himself. He promised himself he wouldn’t wallow too much tonight, and here he was telling the first person who had the misfortune of talking to him. Sarah chose to do a sleepover at a friend's house tonight, the first Halloween she was spending that didn’t involve Joel. Sure, they’d done the pumpkin patch and carved them after, apple picking with Sarah fulfilling her promise to bake Joel an apple crisp, and watched some of their favorite scary movies together. It still hurt that his little girl was Trick or Treating in another neighborhood without him tonight, maybe one of her last ones ever as she neared those teenage years. 
“S-sorry, didn’t mean -” Joel starts, cutting himself off from the deep thoughts he’d tumbled into.
“No, hey, it’s okay. Sarah’s got plans tonight, I take it?” you ask, sincerity and compassion sparking in your eyes. Joel finds himself dangerously close to falling into those two pools, your sweet soul shining through as you look at him.
“Mhm,” Joel replies, scratching a hand through his beard. “She uh, wanted to do somethin’ at a friends’. Don’t blame her, just… y’know, one of those things.”
You give Joel a sympathetic half-smile, letting out a sigh. “I’m sorry, Joel. That is tough. I’ll bet she’s feeling a bit sad about it too, even if she’s having fun.”
“Better miss her old man at least a little bit,” Joel replies, trying to lighten the mood.
“Old man? I don’t see any old men in here,” you say, gazing around the room with a fake curiosity, your brow furrowed. Joel spits out a laugh and shakes his head.
“Too kind, darlin’. For that, and the candy.” He holds up the bag full of candy and starts towards the door. Your heart lurches every time he throws out one of his Southern little pet names, and you have to forcibly keep your face neutral as you bask in it. “Well, uh, thanks. I owe you,” Joel finally says.
You pull your bottom lip into your mouth and worry with it as Joel’s hand seems to inch towards the door in slow motion. 
“W-wait,” you say, before you’ve even realized the word has left your mouth. “I was watching a movie - would you want to, um, stay and watch with me? Pass out candy together?”
Joel blinks a few times, and you feel your stomach sink, until he breaks out in a sheepish smile, his cheeks flushing a bit. 
“I’d like that, yeah.”
“Oh,” you nearly start, mostly having expected him to say no for some reason. Maybe you just haven’t accepted the fact that Joel does seem to enjoy your company as much as you do his. “Great,” you flash a smile, gesturing over to the couch. You walk over and sit down, and Joel follows closely behind, peering around at your setup.
“Popcorn ready and everythin’,” Joel comments with an impressed whistle, settling onto the couch next to you, the distance between you enough that you’re hoping you can stay focused on the movie. His warmth radiates though, his broad shoulders looking so damn big, fuck, on your couch and his legs spread open as he relaxes back a bit. You try to make your shaky exhale as discreet as possible before grabbing the popcorn bowl from the table and plopping it between the two of you.
“What are we watchin’, then?”
“Killer Lake 3. oOooh,” you tell him, wiggling your fingers in an attempt to make it sound creepier, but Joel just laughs and shakes his head at you, running his fingers over tired eyelids.
“Ain’t seen that one yet, makes me kinda nervous, that uh, whole series,” he admits, and you kind of like the idea of knowing something small and intimate about him, something vulnerable.
“Me too,” you admit, holding back a chuckle, your hand over your mouth.
Joel sits forward, shooting you an incredulous look. “And yet you were watchin’ this… all alone in your house?”
“It’s called living on the edge, or something,” you reply with a laugh. “Besides, not alone anymore, am I? I’ve got a victim to suffer with me.”
Joel huffs and crosses his arms. “Just play the damn thing before I can chicken out.” He settles back again, but you can feel the tension radiating off of him as he never fully relaxes, his body taut while he keeps his arms tucked into each other. You find yourself hoping that at least part of the reason he seems tense is he’s just as nervous as you are to be sitting so close on the couch together, able to feel the heat of each other’s bodies, the scent of the other person permeating the space. You try not to breathe in too noticeably when you catch the smell of him - musky, a little outdoorsy, and something else a little less like his natural scent, an aftershave or deodorant. It’s all equally intoxicating, you think to yourself, trying not to let your brain become too muddled by it.
The doorbell rings several times while you two are watching, each time you and Joel pause the movie to coo over the little trick or treaters together. You feel your heart flutter at the thought of those who don’t know you two, who would think you’re just any other couple living together. Your insides are nearly bursting at the thought, not realizing just how badly you’d wanted that with Joel, this sweet domesticity. Now that it was within your reach, a little taste of it playing over in your mind, you don’t know how to go back to how things were before this night.
The movie still isn’t finished when 8:30 hits, but you get up to turn the porch light off, signaling the end of the trick or treaters for the night. Joel stands up awkwardly in your living room, hands fiddling in front of his belly. He clears his throat and glances at the carpeting before he looks back up to you. 
“Love to stay, and finish the movie off, if that’s alright,” Joel offers before you can even say anything, and you nod eagerly. “Couldn't leave you all alone with this scary shit now.”
“My hero,” you tease, calling back to your earlier conversation. You clasp your hands over your heart with a grin, and Joel chuckles, rubbing his neck.
When you two sit back down, you start to realize that every time you've gotten up from the couch to give out candy and sat back down, you and Joel have gotten a little more comfortable, bodies less rigid and tense, able to sit a little bit closer to each other. You realize you’ve barely been paying attention as the movie plays again when Joel makes a sound at something happening on the screen, so you try to focus so he can’t tell just how affected you are by his presence or how lost in thought you are. 
“S-shit,” Joel calls out, jumping a bit in his seat, clutching his chest with one hand. The other one flies over to your thigh, where he holds on for dear life, squeezing you there. He quickly pulls it off, before you can even fully register it, trying at the last second to memorize the feeling but coming up short, too stunned to even believe that it really happened. Joel seems to tear his gaze from the movie, both of his hands clutched in his lap, fiddling nervously. 
“I’m - uh, I’m sorry ‘bout that. Just got me jumpin’, didn’t mean to, well…” Joel stutters out, gesturing to your leg. You’re sure if the room was more light, you’d see a flush creeping over his cheeks. He can’t believe he’s embarrassed himself in front of one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever known, one he’s sure is completely out of his league. It hasn’t stopped him from being excited to see you every time he’s had the pleasure of getting to have a conversation with you or simply see you pass by his house on a walk or run. He’s in deep, he knows it, and now he may have just ruined his chance to reveal his feelings to you the right way. 
“Oh,” you say plainly. “It’s totally fine, I nearly did the same thing,” you say with a chuckle, trying to laugh it off. 
You feel the skin on your thigh buzz beneath your pants where his hand had been for that brief second though, and your heart doesn’t seem to be interested in calming down its incessant thundering. You want more, you want to feel his hand back right where it was, the strength of his arm slung around your shoulder, his touch nearly anywhere on your body. You’ve never been alone with Joel this long and it’s starting to get to you, sending your mind reeling.
That brief touch suddenly has you gathering up your courage, so you turn your body to face Joel a little better and breathe in deeply.
Now or never. 
Your heart thuds harder and your stomach tightens into knots, but you strengthen your resolve and square your body a little, trying to give yourself a false confidence. 
“Actually…” you say, clearing your throat quietly. Joel’s attention quickly snaps from the television back to your face, and you nearly lose any semblance of bravery at his gaze locked so firmly on yours. “I didn’t mind, at all. If you wanted to do that again, or anything like that, uh, maybe,” you tell him, cursing yourself for stumbling on your words, for making it sound so unsexy to ask him to put his hand on your thigh. 
You pull your lips inward and press them together, sure that your widened eyes are giving away the complete terror you feel as you await his reply. It feels like years creep by of his face looking completely taken aback until you see the corner of his mouth twitch up, his eyes starting to go a little softer with a twinkle in them. 
“What, like, uh,” Joel clears his own throat now. “Like this?” 
His hand slides over from his lap, much slower and intentional this time, landing on your thigh, right above your knee. It feels like heaven - his grip firm and protective but also soft and caring at the same time. His fingers flex a little, giving away his nervousness before he settles on a few errant rubs of his thumb. 
“Yeah” You give him a toothy smile. “Like that.”
“Wouldn’t mind one bit if you wanted to hold onto me, an’ all that. Since the movie’s so scary, ‘course,” Joel says, sounding more bashful than you’ve ever heard him with his voice lowered.
You feel yourself smiling wider and wider, your face nearly feeling like it’s going to crack soon with the excitement you feel. Joel’s own heart is fluttering more than it has in ages and he wills it to calm down before he gets too excited about his crush, for Christ’s sake, simply cuddling with him. 
“Of course, since the movie’s so scary,” you tease, biting your lip anxiously. You tentatively scoot closer to Joel, pressing your thighs flush with his as you curl up on the couch, tucking your feet up next to you on the opposite side. You bring your hand up to his bicep, wrapping it around the muscle before gingerly laying your head onto his shoulder. Every movement feels a little stiff at first, testing these new and exciting waters with each other.
Joel lets out a quiet hum of satisfaction, one he’s not sure that you heard until you sigh lightly in response and his heart leaps along with yours, the two of you tensely holding one another. Joel feels you start to relax first, your attention half back on the movie, and he takes the initiative to let go of some of his own tension, letting his hand wander a bit more on your thigh.
By the end of the movie, you and Joel are entwined together, his arm slung behind your shoulders, your hands clasped together and palms sweaty from the intensity of the film and being so close to each other. You’ve migrated onto the top of Joel’s chest, resting your head there. Joel thinks he’s died and gone to heaven as he keeps getting delicious whiffs of your shampoo at that angle - a scent he tries to burn into his memory for when this evening inevitably ends. 
When the credits start to roll, neither of you move, not wanting to break whatever spell it seems the two of you are under. Joel reaches for the remote, turning the movie off before tossing it aside and resting a finger under your chin. He gently pushes, urging you to tilt your head to look up at him. The little, curious noise you let out at his touch makes Joel’s insides instantly turn to fire, his body tensing up and muscles going taut. Just the touch of his calloused finger under your soft chin has a heat licking up your spine, then settling deep inside your gut.
“This was nice,” you murmur, now looking up at him and blinking slowly. He can hardly believe that the look in your eye - the starry, eager, content look - has anything to do with him. His eyes drift down to where your lips look so pouty and inviting right now, parted slightly as you wait to hear from him. 
Joel leans forward a little, sliding his fingers up from your chin to your cheek, cupping it softly. He brushes his lips across yours, so lightly you can barely feel it at first, sensing his hesitancy. You meet him in the middle, and you can feel the smile on his lips as they meet yours in full, pressing into you with a romantically soft kiss. You moan wantonly into it, having wanted and dreamed of this moment countless times. Your hand cups his face in return, gently scratching your fingers through his beard and he lets out his own satisfied groan now before pulling away. 
“That okay?” he asks quietly, his voice a hoarse whisper.
“Joel,” you say, your own voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been wanting that to happen for like, almost a year now, so yes.”
Joel blinks hard in surprise. “That long?” he asks, his tone going lower with suggestion as his brows quirk a little. He keeps his hand on your cheek, rubbing along your jawline with his thumb. 
“Mhm. That long,” you murmur with a nod, closing the small gap between your faces once more as you press your lips into his. You make a small moaning sound deep in your throat and barely pull your lips off of his to utter feels nice. 
Your enthusiasm urges Joel on, a quiet groan making its way out of his throat as he deepens the kiss, sliding his hand from your cheek up to the back of your head and burying it in your hair. His fingers along your scalp feels so heavenly that you can’t help the satisfied mewl that comes out of you.
Joel’s hands start to explore a little more, curving down your back with a firm touch, his fingers tracing along your spine. You nearly shudder and then gasp when his calloused pads find their way underneath the bottom of your tank top, touching bare skin now, the heat of his hands blazing into you. You can feel how heavily you’re breathing already, the tension building and nearly unbearable. It feels like a dream, this moment you’d thought so much about happening, wishing for his touch and his lips and his body just like this. Your hands wrap around his neck to keep him pulled close, desperately trying to keep this moment from slipping away from you.
He surprises you by lifting you onto his lap, hands enveloping your plush hips as he tugs you over to straddle him. You gladly and willingly move your body along to where he guides you, settling on top of his lap with your heart beating out of your chest. It all feels so natural but has you giddy, nearly jumping out of your skin with the quickening pace of your kisses. Your bodies meld to one another effortlessly, your hips sinking down further into his lap as you grind a little into each other.
Every movement, touch, and synced breath is pure bliss as you two continue devouring everything the other is putting out, tongues dancing with one another and now swollen lips pressing into each other. All the pent up longing and burning desire coursing through you now has an outlet, and you try to hold back a moan that pushes up through your throat to not seem too desperate, but Joel beats you to it, a little groan slipping past his lips. He pulls away slowly, peppering the corners of your mouth with a few kisses before slowly opening his eyes, now gazing at you with a heady, half-lidded look. You meet his expression curiously, your heart still thundering as you lazily scratch along the back of his neck.
“W-would it make me look like a complete idiot if I said,” Joel starts, keeping his hands steadily wrapped around your hips, fingers still splayed all the way to your ass. “I wanna take y’on a date before we go any further? Know it’s old fashioned, but…”
You laugh quietly, sincere and sweet, at his honesty and apprehension, watching his cheeks reddening and mouth a little agape as he awaits your reply. You palm his chest with your free hand, spreading your fingers out and brushing them dotingly across the fabric of his tee shirt.
“Not at all,” you tell him, your voice coming out a little cracked, planting a chaste kiss on his lips, savoring the way they mingle so quickly into yours without hesitation. “I think I’d like that, too,” you add on, giving him an encouraging smile.
You see him breathe out, shoulders sagging in relief while his mouth twitches upwards. “Good,” he sighs, “‘Cause I really wanna take you out, darlin’. Been wantin’ to…” he says with a lopsided smile now, leaning back in for another kiss.
“Maybe I’ve been wanting to, too,” you tease, leaning your head down to rest on his shoulder, snuggling into him, letting the moment become comfortable, any expectations on the two of you lifted for now.
“Couldn’t tell or anythin’, by the way you hopped on top of me,” Joel jokes, breaking the tension even more. It feels like any other day, now, like you tease each other while you curl yourself up on his lap all the time. It amazes you how little discomfort or awkwardness you feel right now around Joel despite the major shift in your relationship only moments ago.
“You pulled me up here, you ass,” you quip back, lightly hitting him on his other shoulder.
“That I did, sugar,” he says more sweetly now, kissing your forehead, warm and sticky. “Wanna go out w’me this Friday, then?” he asks, and you pick your head up to smile at him, tenderly curling your fingers around his cheek, still getting used to the feeling of touching him so freely.
“Friday? Not sooner?” you ask, biting the inside of your lip and trying to give him your best version of sweet, pleading eyes.
“Eager, are you?”
You kiss him again in reply, letting your tongue slip into his mouth again and he meets it hungrily with his own, his hands snaking around your back to your ass and squeezing the globes greedily. You can feel his arousal, pressing hard where your warm heat meets his, thighs gripping around his legs tightly. He has to practically tear himself away and you can see the mischief in his dark eyes growing by the second.
“Yeah, me too,” he says, a little breathless now. “Tomorrow, then.”
“Tomorrow is perfect.” You slip off of his lap and plop next to him on the couch again, stifling a yawn now that you’re coming down from the quick boost of adrenaline your make-out session with Joel had given you. 
“I should head out, but…” Joel says when he notices your tiredness, putting a warm hand on your thigh. “I’m lookin’ forward to tomorrow.”
“Me too,” you reply with a wide grin. You stand up from the couch with him, walking to the door together with your fingers brushing, not seeming to want to be without the other’s touch.
“Pick you up right here at 6:00 tomorrow, yeah?” Joel stands in your open doorway, lingering on shifting feet as you nod in agreement. He leans in and captures your lips in another kiss, this one feeling just as new as the others and you instantly lose yourself to it, breathing in his scent and memorizing the feel of his plush lips on yours for the final time tonight.
“Goodnight,” you say quietly, planting one more peck on his cheek, wiry stubble around his beard tickling your lips. He ambles down your walkway, and while you’re admiring the view, leaning against your doorframe he turns back, giving you a sheepish, crooked smile.
“Hey,” he says, stopping where he stands. “Happy Halloween, darlin’,”
You can’t help the smile that bursts onto your face, your heart soaring at the adorable pet name, the locks of Joel’s hair sticking out in all directions, and the near puppy dog eyes he’s giving you right now. This right here, this Joel Miller is one you know not everybody is lucky enough to see, and you’re so grateful you’re getting a glimpse of it tonight.
You lift a hand and wave as you step back inside and call out to him. 
“Happy Halloween, Joel.”
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dividers from saradika !
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elly-grace · 5 months
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Friends don’t look at friends that way
Pairing:Joe Burrow x reader
Word count: 1505
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September 2014
Today was your first day at Athens High School, but you weren't a freshman. Your dads business opportunity has led you here for your senior year. Only knowing the people on the dance team, which you were a part of. You honestly didn’t know them well enough to call them friends yet. The only person you knew on a personal level was your new neighbor Joe Burrow.
Joe was the quarterback on the football team, but he didn’t act like a football player. He was kind unlike any other football player you have had interactions with. He was smart as well. You could have an intellectual conversation with him.
Suddenly you are pulled from your thoughts by a knock on the front door.
“Let’s go Y/N don’t want you to be late on your first day.”
You and Joe had grown close over the summer. Often hanging out on the weekends.
“Coming, geez give me a minute.” you yelled through the door going to open it.
Once out the door you locked it and got into Joe's car. Of course Kid Cudi was playing in the background.
“Our schedules are the same,” You said after examining his schedule.
“That's cool!”
Joe knew that already he made sure he had the same classes as you. He enjoyed your company, but he would never tell you that. You could tell he was behind the identical schedules.
“You did this, didn't you?”
“Maybe,” You gave him a ‘I know it was you’ look and he sighed. “Yeah.”
“I mean thank you, I guess”
You both laughed as he pulled into the school parking lot.
“See you in class.” you said closing the car door. You didn’t want to walk to class with him or walk into the building with him because of the amount of attention it would attract. So you hurried inside and hoped that no one saw you get out of his car.
When you made it to your locker there stood Lacy the captain of the dance team.
“Hey, just so you're aware practice is on the field tonight. We have a game on Friday and the boys won’t be there till later.”
“Okay thank you.”
She walked away and you put your books in your locker and headed to class.
The only bright spot of your classes was actually having someone to sit by. Joe made sure to save you a spot in every class, even during lunch. But the school day was soon over and practice was in full swing.
The boys walk out of the locker room during your last run through of the halftime routine. Once Joe saw you he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. His friends took notice.
“Ohhh does Burrow have a crush on the new girl?”
“No, we're just friends.”
“Friends don’t look at friends that way man.” His team mate said then patted his back.
January 2016
Joe and You both ended up at Ohio State, both of you were buckeyes. You made it on the dance team and he was on the football team. Although he was redshirted he showed up to every game and every practice. There you guys met one of your best friends Sam Hubbard. He was part of the football team with Joe. They instantly became friends and Joe introduced him to you and things clicked. The three of us soon became an unbreakable trio. Often spending your weekends together, most of the time you guys just went to get coffee. You guys tried to go to the bar one time, but never again. Joe and Sam would get extremely protective over you, Joe even punched a man who hit on you. Your movie night tradition remained which now included Sam.
Both of them showed up to all of your dance competitions and performances. You showed up to all of their games. But today was a huge day, they both flew out to Florida to support you at nationals.
You were extremely nervous, you couldn’t focus. You were shaking running through the routine in your head over and over again. Joe saw this and knew he needed to help you out.
He ran over to you and gave you a huge hug, upon feeling Joes touch your nervousness faded. Your teammates took notice of your reaction to seeing him.
“Hey, you got this! I’m gonna go sit by Sam but I want you to know that I believe in you.”
He then turns his back and walks over to Sam.
“Wait, are you two together?” Sarah asks, pointing Joe out.
“No, we're just friends.”
“Really? Because friends don’t look at friends' way.”
You sighed, you knew she was right. You did have feelings for Joe but you two could never be together, it just wouldn’t work.
“And friends don’t do what he just did for you. I can tell he loves you.”
You tried to shake the thought from your mind. Joe couldn’t have feelings for you. Could he? No he could have any girl he wanted, he didn’t want you.
August 2018
Today was a rough day, Joe was leaving for LSU, he decided to transfer after being redshirted his entire career at OSU.
“Come visit me, I’d love for you to see me play.”
“I promise I’ll come see a game. If not this season then next season.”
Joe smiles and gives you a hug, once he pulls away he walks to the car. You waited until his car was out of sight then you ran to your room and started crying. Robin noticed and followed you.
“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” She said rubbing your back as you continued to cry.
“I think I’m in love with your son, and he doesn’t know I exist in that realm. He thinks of me as his best friend and that’s it.”
Robin knew the two of you loved each other. She had a similar conversation with Joe about a month ago. She couldn’t tell you that though. She just offered you a small smile and continued to comfort you.
First day of school
Today was going to be incredibly tough. You had to walk into school without Joe and Sam. You kept your head down, only paying attention during classes. You walked down the hall until you hit something hard.
“I’m so sorry.” You said keeping your head down.
“No worries. What’s your name?”
“Yeah, Im Y/n. What’s your name?”
“Cody, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“You’re on the football team aren’t you. You look kinda familiar.”
“Yeah, I’m the tight end.”
“We’ll nice to meet you Cody but I gotta go”
“Wait can I maybe get your number?”
You smile and nod, grabbing a post it out of your bag and giving him your number. Then walked away.
It didn’t take long for you two to start dating, Cody was kind and sensitive. You went to every game, although it felt weird supporting a different number than Joes.
You were so busy with Cody you sort of forgot about your promise to Joe. You didn’t visit him and definitely didn’t see a game. But you did continue to call him every night.
After a few months Cody started getting really jealous of your relationship with Joe. He ended up making you block Joe's number. You listened to Cody, you thought you loved him. But by April you were sitting in your dorm crying because he broke your heart.
There was only one person you wanted to text, but you couldn’t bring yourself to text him. You had been avoiding him for a month what would he think if you reached out to him?
So you texted Sam, who responded right away. He came to your dorm with ice cream and movies. You sat and talked for hours, before Sam told you to text Joe.
You called Joe but he didn’t pick up.
Summer before Joes heisman season
Joe came home and didn’t even walk into his house. The first thing he did was go to your house. He let himself in using the hidden key. He was upset and hurt but most of all he was worried about you. Walking up the stairs to your room he heard crying. He opened the door and ran to you and hugged you.
“Shh it’s okay.” He said soothingly while brushing your hair.
“How can you be so nice after what I did to you?”
“Sam filled me in, am I hurt yes. But you are the most important person in my life.”
“I- I didn’t want to but, he made me.”
“Shhh I know, I know.”
You cried harder. You missed Joe so much, you missed his embrace.
“Don’t ever let a man make decisions for you again. You are strong.” He cooed in your ear.
You pulled away and looked him in the eyes.
“Joe?” you asked
“Yeah?”
“Friends don’t look at friends this way.”
“Friends don’t look at friends this way.” He said then kissed you. It was full of passion and need.
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Thank you @funnyjb for proof reading ♥️
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bradshawssugarbaby · 7 months
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Neon Moon - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
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summary: You're drowning your sorrows after calling off your engagement on Valentine's Day in a Mexican restaurant in San Diego. Alongside you, Bradley Bradshaw sits at the bar, going through a similar situation.
A/N: my first attempt at writing something a little angsty, I’m not overly confident in it but I was drunk on strawberry margaritas in San Diego last night after spending the day in Coronado so here we are. Also definitely inspired by my own past relationship 🌚 And inspired by Neon Moon by Brooks and Dunn. Also sorry for the whacky spacing because I’m posting from my phone! - not beta read or proofread bc I live life in the danger zone.
pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x f!reader
warnings/content: cheating (not Bradley or reader), failed engagements/breakups, mentions of divorce, drinking, angsty-ish with a happier ending.
word count: 3.5K
read the rest of my What’s Your Country Song mixtape series! 🩷
if you lose your one and only, there’s always room here for the lonely, so watch your broken dreams dance in and out of the beams of a neon moon.
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You sat at the bar, sighing heavily as you snacked on the free, fresh tortilla chips and salsa, nursing your pink margarita, the notes of strawberry and tequila doing everything in its power to alleviate the pain of your latest breakup. You know alcohol isn’t a miracle worker, but by God, at this point you’re beginning to wonder. Your ex-fiancé just called off your wedding, and left you wondering why on earth you ever agreed to move thousands of miles from home to San Diego for a man who barely had his shit together.
You fiddled with the straw in your glass, sipping the strawberry-laden drink back, the tequila burning your throat slightly as it went down. It was getting late in the evening, but you were willing to stay here a couple more hours until closing just to get the most amount of time away from your apartment as you could. You knew you’d have to face the inevitable, but you dreaded it. How could you not? How could anyone in their right mind choose to haul their ass back to the apartment their ex just called off their wedding ceremony in, where the person they’d loved just confessed they didn’t share that feeling that was supposedly mutual, that they’d grown weary of the marriage ideal that they’d proposed to you.
Your bartender shot you a sympathetic look when you walked in that night, sensing that you weren’t here celebrating Valentine’s Day like most of the patrons around you. He slid you a basket of fresh, warm, homemade tortilla chips and a cup of the restaurant’s in-house salsa, alongside a drink menu with an encouraging nod. You appreciated the kindness towards you, even if it was just out of pity. As the bar side became less busy as the night went on, he asked how you were doing, if you needed anything else, if you wanted to order a meal. You hemmed and hawed over whether or not authentic Mexicali food was the solution to all of your problems when the seat to your right suddenly gained a patron - a single patron who looked just as downtrodden, if not more so, than you.
“Bradley!” The bartender said cheerfully, a hearty smile on the man’s face as he grabbed a pint glass, “Your usual, my friend?”
“Please, and just keep ‘em comin’, man,” said the voice beside you.
Bradley was a tall man, with a neatly trimmed mass of warm, golden-brown waves on top of his head, sun kissed skin and a pair of aviator sunglasses resting on the collar of his white t-shirt. Over the white undershirt, sat the loudest printed Hawaiian shirt you’d ever laid your eyes on - a bubblegum pink coloured background with an assortment of bright white, black and deep orangey-red palm leaves adorning it. A few faded scars scattered the side of his face, barely noticeable unless he tilted his head just so in the warm yellow-hued lights overhead. His fuller lips were resting in an emotionless line, a trimmed and styled mustache, straight out of an 80’s movie resting over the top of his lip.
As Bradley and the bartender, whose name you’d now forgotten after your second margarita, not that it was ever going to stick in your mind in the first place - you were stressing over how to tell 150 guests that a wedding was no longer taking place simply because the man who asked you had decided he no longer loved you, and despite having felt that way for quite some time, opted to tell you three months before your big day, after a majority of things were paid for, almost all of which non-refundable, meaning you’d be enjoying a wedding cake for 150 people at a venue by yourself, celebrating some other occasion in a couple of months.
You couldn’t help but overhear the bartender give Bradley the same words of encouragement as he’d given you - reminding you both that “que sera sera, whatever will be will be”, a direct quote from an old Doris Day song that you recognized from the times your grandmother made you watch her collection of Alfred Hitchcock VHS tapes, along with all the other classic movies you were subjected to. Bradley offered a weak smile, nodding his head along to the advice.
“I don’t know, man, she definitely isn’t coming back. I don’t think I want her to either. Came home from three months away to get told she was off base and in Coronado for the day, I decided to surprise her and find her having a lunch date with some lower-ranking officer.”
“That’s harsh, brother,” the bartender nods sympathetically before his brown eyes light up, as if Bradley’s cheating significant other has inspired him in some way.
“Actually, my friend, the lovely senorita on your left side has something in common with you,” he explained as he shot you a grin before nodding his head, “My friend Bradley here was married. You both are nursing the same pain tonight. Might not be a bad idea for you two to nurse that pain together, especially since we close in an hour.”
Bradley’s face flushed to a pinkish hue as he shot his friend a glare before turning to you with an apologetic, half-hearted smile.
“No offense, I’m sure you’re great, I just…caught my wife out with another officer over the bridge at Coronado and I really don’t know if drinking with another girl is the right thing to do.”
“Understood, my fiancé just called off our wedding because he decided three months before was a good time to tell me he’d fallen out of love with me nine months ago and no longer wanted to go through with it.”
“Ah, maybe Angel over here is on to something then,” Bradley let out a melancholic chuckle as he took a sip of his beer, the amber coloured liquid sliding past his lips, the froth at the top brushing against the edge of his mustache.
“I’m, uh, I’m sorry to hear about your wife,” you nodded, suddenly thankful as you realized if your ex hadn’t broken things off now, you could have easily wound up in the same position as Bradley is now in a few years.
“It’s alright, had a feelin’ she wasn’t really loving the military spouse life as much as she let on, but didn’t think that meant she’d find a different serviceman to try it on with while I was gone and stationed in the middle of the Pacific.”
“Jesus, that’s rough, I’m sorry.”
“Eh, not your fault. I’m Bradley, by the way. Normally I’d do the whole formal military introduction but…just Bradley is fine tonight. I kinda need a break from that for a minute.”
“Understood.”
You nodded again before giving him your name. An awkward silence fell over you both before you looked out towards the patio, the lights along the pier illuminating the San Diego Bay as you looked across to Coronado.
“That’s where I’m stationed,” Bradley nodded his head towards the island across the bay as he took another sip of his beer, “North Island.”
“You’re an aviator?”
“TOPGUN graduated, been flyin’ for just over 20 years now.”
“20 years?”
“Yeah,” Bradley blushed, nodding his head, “I’m 40 in June. I get told I look about 10 years younger than that. A lot. Especially by other guys over there. The one guy in my detachment’s about 5 years younger than me and everyone says he looks closer to my age than I do. Not as a dig to Hangman or nothin’, just as an observation that I kinda look fresh to the Navy, you know?”
“Hangman…?” You raised your eyebrow quizzically at the name he just called his friend, almost concerned about his parents' life choices.
“Real name’s Jake. Everyone calls us using callsigns over there - his is Hangman, but if we wanna piss him off, he’s Bagman. I’m Rooster. One guy’s just Bob, one girl’s Phoenix, another girl’s Halo, then there’s Payback, Fanboy, Coyote, Harvard and Yale, Fritz, my dad’s Navy buddy is Maverick, our Air Boss is Cyclone, it goes on.”
“Why is your callsign Rooster?”
“Eh, my dad’s sign was Goose. They asked me to pick one and I wanted to honor him, but I couldn't use the same one I figured, so I went for the first bird I could think of. They were gonna call me Boomer because I’m loud as fuck half the time, but I guess I have a bit of a reputation for waiting until the moment’s right to take action. One guy said that I sorta sit perched like a rooster waiting for the sun to rise, and it stuck more than Boomer did.”
“Gotcha. Are you from San Diego?”
“Sorta. I was born here, my dad was stationed up at Miramar which is on the other side from Coronado, but then he died when I was two in a training accident, my mom moved me back to where she was from in Virginia, it’s where she met my dad, actually. He was from Virginia but like, closer to the D.C. area, my mom was from Richmond. Then I grew up there, went to UVA, and got stationed at Virginia Beach, went to TOPGUN in Nevada and then got sent back to Virginia, then from there got called to North Island.”
“So you’ve lived in a few states then. I moved out here from New York a couple years ago. My ex is from La Jolla, came to New York for university, met me, got a job in the city, then got an offer to work here, and came back, took me with him.”
“So your family’s all back in New York?”
“Yeah, bit far, like a 6 hour flight home.”
“Jesus, I may not have much for family, but at least I know I’ve got my squad to kinda support me. And I’ve got Maverick, who’s like a second dad to me.”
“I’m still debating what to do - do I stay in San Diego and just make this my home now, or do I go back to Manhattan with my tail between my legs so to speak and move back in with my parents?”
Bradley nodded his head solemnly before letting out a sharp exhale, a smile forming on his face as he looked out at the bay and then back at you.
“Whatdya say we go for a walk? Catch some fresh air? Maybe we can help each other figure out our next moves so poor Angel here can close up for the night.”
Bradley must have sensed some apprehension in your gaze, because almost seconds after speaking, he held his hands up innocently and laughed.
“I promise I’m not suggesting this out of an ulterior motive. Just suggesting it as a guy who’s sorta in the same boat as you and could use some company.”
You looked at your watch and shrugged your shoulders. You certainly didn’t want to head home any time soon, and Bradley seemed genuine enough, plus, it was nice having someone who understood what you were going through, even if it meant both of you now had to completely reevaluate your lives. You set your credit card down on the table for Angel to ring up your bill, but before he could take it, Bradley shook his head and handed it back to you.
“It’s on me.”
“I can’t let you pay for my drinks, but thank you.”
“Listen, it was money that was gonna be spent on my wife for a Valentine’s Day dinner anyway. Least I can do is pay for your two…pink…whatever those are.”
“Strawberry margaritas.”
“Right, yeah, those. Pink tequila with fruit.”
He smirked as he closed out the tab for both of you before hopping off his barstool. He politely offered his arm out to you as you stood to your feet. Angel shot you both a knowing grin, waving you and his friend off as you headed out. The air on the pier was mild, a soft breeze blowing in off the water of the bay. As you headed down the street together, chatting about life and what you did for a living, Bradley’s rank in the Navy, his favorite sports, your favorite movies, you almost forgot about your ex and the breakup you’d been trying to numb with fruity heartache medication moments ago.
As it turned out, you and Bradley shared a fond love of baseball and romantic comedies, you’d both grown up watching classic movies with your grandmothers, both had a fondness for old music - Elvis, The Beach Boys, Jerry Lee Lewis, Neil Sedaka - it turned out that for two strangers with a 12 year age gap, you had much more in common than you could have expected. In fact, you’d actually argue that you and Bradley had more shared interests than you and your ex had.
As you both wandered up the street towards Seaport Village, the bayside shopping district set up alongside one of the piers, you basked in the glow of the streetlights over head, taking the time to appreciate the calmness of the bay, the sights and sounds of the water as it took your focus off the happy, lovestruck couples that walked around past you all.
The moon hung low in the sky overhead, glowing against the deep blackish-blue backdrop of the night sky, appearing to have a neon glow behind it. Bradley looked up at the sky, letting out a loud, exhaled breath as he shook his head.
“I don’t wanna head back to base and deal with the mess waiting for me there. Never thought I’d be filing divorce papers on Valentine’s Day, you know?”
“I have to call 150 guests and tell them that the wedding scheduled for May isn’t taking place but they can still come eat the cake that we paid for at the venue that I can’t get the 50% deposit back for.”
Bradley laughed softly, although the laugh wasn’t one of happiness - more one of pity for the two of you over your situations, and how neither of you wanted to go home because it would mean taking action with the hands you were dealt, no matter how unfair they were.
“Fuck, how’d we end up in this mess? I guess I should be thankful that she and I never had kids then, right?”
He laughed again, a dry, hollow laugh at his situation. “I wanted them, she didn’t. I just figured in my late thirties that it wasn’t really an issue worth pushing and it was probably best if I didn’t.”
“My dad was 44 when I was born, I never thought it was weird, if that helps.”
“Hey, means I’ve got 4 years, right? Can’t really adopt a kid when you’re in the Navy though, with not being home a lot and all that, and I don’t know if I see myself remarrying or anything. Besides, I feel like it’s asking a lot of a woman to settle down with me then have her waiting at home alone most of the time, or alone with our kids, if we have ‘em. Seems a bit unfair. I guess I could retire but, I don’t know if I’m ready for that either, you know?”
“You just have to find someone who wants to wait for you. You know, someone who doesn’t mind being a military spouse.”
“Good luck with that,” He said with a dry chuckle again, “I wouldn’t wanna be one if the shoe was on the other foot, it’s a lot of me to ask someone else to do it.”
“Well, I’m not suggesting you ask a random girl on the street to marry you, Bradley, I meant like, date, get to know the woman, find out from there if she’s cool with it.”
“I guess so,” He sighed heavily as he looked up at the moon, “You know, always thought I’d have a marriage like my parents did. I know my dad died before I was really old enough to remember, but I see pictures and you just…you knew they were crazy about each other. Maverick always said they flirted like they were a couple’a teenagers on their first date all the time.”
“Bradley, do you wanna come grab a coffee with me?”
“Coffee? It’s like nine at night.”
“Yeah, I could use some sobering up though.”
“Ah, what the hell. I don’t have to be anywhere.”
Bradley gestured in front of him, allowing you to lead the way. As you began to walk on the outside of the sidewalk, he shook his head and gently placed his hand on your shoulder to guide you to the inside.
“Sorry, force of habit. My mom always said not to let a lady walk on the outside of the sidewalk. She said my dad never let her risk getting splashed by a puddle when they walked down the street. Sorta trained it into me by the time I was 10. Maverick and my grandma both agreed. Think it’s an old Southern thing.”
“It’s fine, I don’t mind it,” you smiled softly at him, rolling your shoulders into a subtle shrug.
Bradley smiled at you, a genuine, proper smile. His previously stoic and reserved look had melted away momentarily, deep dimples forming either side of his mouth. Bradley’s caramel coloured eyes seemed to glisten as the moonlight caught them, amber flecks sparkling before he shook his head, an awkward chuckle escaping his parted lips.
“You know, I gotta thank you.”
“Why’s that?”
“You helped me forget temporarily about what I have to do tonight when I get home.”
“I guess I should thank you for the same thing.”
“I haven’t felt this at ease in…a really long time. I guess I always kinda suspected she was cheating, but I didn’t want to believe it. I mean, no one wants to think that way about someone they love, right?”
“No, no, I get it. I sorta knew my ex wasn’t feeling the same way. I just told myself I was overthinking it. He never said anything until today.”
“He told you today that he didn’t love you anymore? Today of all the days?!”
“Yeah, came home from a half day at work to spend the afternoon with him, just to come home to him doing the classic “We need to talk” line.”
Bradley hummed slowly and shook his head. He ran a finger through his caramel toned waves and sighed, trying to think of what the right thing to say in response would be.
“Shit, I’m sorry.”
Bradley silently opens the door to the coffee shop for you, once again gesturing for you to go first. You can’t help but admire the way everything he does seems like something out of a movie set in the 1950s - his mannerisms, the slight lilt to his voice, the way he holds doors open, offers you his arm, insists on walking on the outside of the sidewalk - all for a woman he’s only just met. It’s likely sympathetic actions towards you - feeling bad that you’re in a situation similar to his own, at least, that’s what you’re going to tell yourself.
“Pick your poison, I owe you one for the margaritas.”
“Nah, I’ll pick up this one. Like I said, it was set aside for a nice romantic Valentine’s dinner. I got it.”
“You know, under any other circumstances, this would have made for a cute date spot.”
“Margaritas and coffee?”
“I meant a nighttime stroll along the pier to a coffee shop, but now that you mention it, margaritas and coffee are one way to do it.”
“Hey, I mean, maybe this isn’t a date, I don’t think either of us are ready for that, but, it’s a nice first time hanging out.”
“Maybe the next time we hangout we can do it under less…distressing circumstances?”
“Maybe next time we hangout I can take you out for that nice dinner you and I both were expecting to have tonight,” Bradley shrugged as he sipped his coffee. “You know, as friends, or whatever.”
“You know what, I may take you up on that. You know, as friends…or whatever.”
Bradley slid his phone across the table to you, having opened it to the new contact screen. You quickly typed in your contact details, smiling fondly as you handed it back to him, along with your own phone.
“Next time you venture across the bridge, maybe text me? We can go for a coffee or something, or catch a ball game when the season starts.”
“I’d like that,” Bradley said with a satisfied smile as he sipped his drink.
“But this time, I’m buying.”
340 notes · View notes
starryeyedjanai · 1 year
Text
catch the embers on my tongue
kinktober prompt: frottage; @eddiemonth prompt: crush explicit | 5.2k
read on ao3
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Steve's leaning into Eddie's side and they are high, high, high.
It's about time they got high together. After everything they've been through, and after he spent months recovering from wounds so deep they didn't know if he was going to make it, Eddie thinks they deserve this.
He hasn't smoked in months, the longest he's gone since the first time he tentatively took the joint from some kid he was hanging out with back in like middle school.
He hasn't been able to - the damage to his entire body was rough, his lungs were just one of many things that will probably never be the same. But it's been long enough, he figures. It doesn't ache when he breathes anymore, his body on the up and up.
So he invites Steve over to smoke with him because he remembers selling to him a handful of times when he was in high school, Steve showing up at his locker or waiting by his van after school sometimes. He remembers always wondering back then what Steve would be like when he was high. If he's the talkative type, the paranoid type, the quiet and contemplative type, the horny type.
Even he can admit he's thought about Steve enough to have thoughts on all of those situations and musings about how he'd handle each of them.
But he's not exactly prepared for Steve to be handsy, to be giggly and leaning into him and joking and touching him casually. Because sober Steve keeps his hands to himself, Eddie's noticed.
He's had a theory for years now that Steve is probably touch starved, from not having his parents around much, from the only form of intimacy other than sex being clapping his friends or teammates on the shoulder.
And knowing him now, actually knowing him, he knows he was right. Because Steve is somehow so touch starved that he's touch averse with most people, like he can't handle it, the lightest brush of someone's hand oh his skin has him dodging out of the way to avoid it.
The only person he isn't like that with is Robin. And Dustin has speculated enough times why that might be that Robin eventually came out to the group just to get them all to stop talking about it - well, that and she trusts them. It felt like Eddie's heart was going to burst in his chest at being part of that trusted group.
So Steve doesn't really touch people, doesn't reach out for any of the group for hugs, doesn't really cuddle with anyone during movie nights.
But high Steve, he touches.
They don't even finish the joint they're sharing, because it's been a while for both of them. Eddie's feeling the pleasant buzz under his skin, his lips feeling cold and tingling a little when they're barely halfway done with it. He stubs it out when Steve bows out of taking it from him.
Without the joint to pass between them, they talk. One of his hands somehow ends up in Steve's grasp. He touches Eddie's fingers, plays with his rings, as he talks.
It's mostly chatter that Eddie mostly can't keep up with as he acclimates to the way his brain feels less fuzzy than it has in months, the background noises fading away until all he can hear is Steve, all he can feel is Steve's fingers spinning one of his rings around.
He feels grounded, kind of, focusing in on Steve's voice, watching his mouth move as he talks. He's calmer than he's felt in months, feels less out of control, sitting on his bed next to Steve, letting him touch his hand.
It's only a handful of minutes later when they're laughing about something or another, when out of nowhere Steve puts his hands on Eddie's chest and pushes him down on his bed in what has to be a moment straight out of Eddie's wet dreams before he realizes that Steve is pressing him into the bed because he wants to cuddle with him.
It still has his heart racketing in his chest even after realizing, because he's so close to Steve. Their faces are pressed close together and he can feel the several points of contact between them like a brand on his skin.
It's one of those weirdly hot September days, so they're both in shorts. Steve's wearing a sweater even though Eddie knows he has to be hot in it. Even with the sweater on, this is more skin contact than Eddie is used to with anyone.
He realizes now, in this moment, that he too has become a little touch starved since everything happened.
He couldn't handle a lot of touch in the beginning, his body healing, his skin scarring over in a lot of areas. The scar tissue was sensitive for a long while even after it was safe to touch, so the party and his friends stopped touching him - he'd flinch or brace himself when people got near, ready for the ache or pain or sensitivity that comes with touch nowadays, so they stopped touching him as much to spare him of that.
And now, laying here, pressed up against Steve Harrington, of all people, he's realizing how much he craves touch, how much he's missed having someone's skin against his like this, even platonically - not that he has much experience with things being not platonic.
But his friends stopped touching him because any touch hurt him for a while and then they just kind of haven't started again.
They're probably waiting on a cue from him, he guesses. It's what he'd do, if touch suddenly hurt one of his friends. He'd wait for them to say it was okay, or to initiate touch, before he started cuddling up to them again.
So even though he knows cognitively that's likely the reason, there's a thread of a darker thought that passes through his head, that maybe his friends don't touch him anymore because he's somehow even more of a freak than before. That his scars make him untouchable, undesired, that even the freaks of Hawkins don't want to touch him.
He shakes himself free of those thoughts. He knows that's just his brain being dumb. His friends don't care what he looks like, they never have. If they did, they wouldn't be his friends anyway - that's not the kind of company he keeps.
He tries to get back to the feeling of finally having someone's warmth against his skin after a long, touch-starved drought, calming his thoughts again so all he feels is Steve.
He likes it, he finds - the warmth. Steve's skin is hot to the touch, the air around them warm from having the air conditioning off.
He likes this, probably too much, hasn't had enough touch in months, and Steve is the one here giving it to him.
He likes this and he's been unknowingly craving this. That's a dangerous combination.
He wants to burrow deep, to pull their clothes off so he can get even more skin contact. He wants to feel the whorls of his fingertips dragging on Steve's own scars, because he's maybe the only one who can appreciate it. He's maybe the only one who can understand this - what it's like to want to be touched but not be able to be, to feel like maybe the scars are the reason why he's not getting the touch he needs.
He feels the heat seeping from Steve's skin against his and he wants to wrap himself up in that warmth. After a moment of contemplating whether it would be a good idea or not, he does it anyway.
He's spent months not being able to do the things he wants to do, is the thing.
He's spent months not getting high, not really being able to have his friends touch him without it hurting, not being able to get out of bed, not being able to stand for too long without it hurting. He's spent months bored out of his fucking mind while his body healed from something more traumatic than he ever thought he'd go through.
He thinks he's allowed to have this. He thinks he's allowed to enjoy this, even.
So he pulls Steve closer to him, impossibly close, pressed together all the way from their chests to their shins, legs tangling together. He tucks his head in close, rubs his face against the soft fabric of Steve's sweater.
"I've missed this," he finds himself saying, sighing into Steve's shoulder.
Steve pulls back a little to be able to look at Eddie's face when he asks, "Getting high?"
Eddie snorts. "Yeah, that. But also, this," he says, trapping one of Steve's legs between his and squeezing it between his. "I feel like no one touches me anymore."
There's more he could say, the introspective thoughts about how he gets it - the self-deprecating jokes about his scars bitter on his tongue. But he doesn't say it because Steve already gets it. He has similar scars. Scars that run along his back and his torso and his neck. His neck scar is still visible in most shirts. Eddie knows he gets it.
"Yeah," Steve says quietly. "I think I missed this too."
They've never touched like this before, never spent an afternoon curled up together, and he wishes he could go back in time to tell himself to befriend Steve, so they'd get more moments like this. So they'd get thousands of moments like this before all the bad stuff happened.
His brain conjures up the image of high school Steve in his bed in his old trailer. He thinks of Steve's coiffed hair and his polos and barely contains the laugh bubbling up in his chest. He'd look so out of place there.
But Eddie doesn't think he would have been, not really. Not after he lost his crown, after his downfall from King of Hawkins High. He thinks Steve would have fit right in with the rest of Eddie's things - his sweetheart, his posters, his rack of cassette tapes, his Steve. Eddie thinks he would have liked Steve in that room, surrounded by all of Eddie's favorite things.
But he knows his past self wouldn't have allowed it. Even though Steve had changed by his senior year, Eddie was still very much subscribed to a nerds versus jocks dichotomy.
He doesn't think he would have allowed Steve to get close enough to him to be someone he invited over, someone he invited into his room, his space, the only place in Hawkins that was really Eddie's. He would have been too paranoid that Steve would have been trying to pull something over on him.
He's pulled from his thoughts by Steve putting his hand on Eddie's side. He's not touching his skin, but Eddie still flinches. The skin has long since healed over into scars that sometimes pull weird with sudden movement, making it feel like the skin is going to crack open.
"I'm sorry," Steve whispers. "Do your scars still hurt? I should have probably asked that before tackling you to the bed."
"No," Eddie says. "They don't hurt. The skin's just weirdly sensitive sometimes. You can keep touching me. It's fine." The second the words are out of his mouth, his face is on fire.
You can keep touching me. That's a loaded sentence if he ever heard one.
Steve either doesn't notice or doesn't care that his face is beet red. He just returns his hand to Eddie's side, where his shirt has ridden up a little. This time, instead of letting his hand rest over Eddie's side on top of his shirt, he pushes his shirt up more, spreading his big hand over the expanse of Eddie's largest scar.
God, his hands are so big. And this is so not the time to be thinking about that.
The feeling of Steve's hand on him makes Eddie shiver. He tries to suppress it, but it wracks its way through his body regardless.
He knows Steve feels it. He has to, with the way his body is pressed so close to Eddie's. There's no way he misses it, the full body shudder, the way his breath hitches a little because of it.
Steve doesn't say anything, but he thumbs at the scars on Eddie's side, right where the scar meets his unmarred skin.
He's being so gentle with him that it makes Eddie want to whine. It makes him want to whine and rock his hips against Steve's, the delicate way he's touching him, just the slightest pressure of his thumb on his skin. It's like a tease, almost. It's like Steve wants Eddie to feel like this, like he knows exactly what touching him like this is doing to him.
Eddie tries to get his bearings right again, tries to be normal about this, but he's high, and it's been so long since he felt good like this. Part of him wants to give in completely, right away, wants to, to knock Steve onto his back and climb on top of him. Wants to press his entire body weight onto him, feel every inch of his skin against his own.
But he knows that's crazy. Even if Steve were receptive to the things that Eddie wants, he doesn't think Steve would want to jump right in. He seems to be the type that would want it to go a little slower, to want to be wooed in bed. He's the type to hold hands during sex and look deeply into his lover's eyes for the connection. At least, that's what Eddie assumes about him, anyway, from the way he talks about relationships and love and what he wants his future to look like.
So even as high as he is, he knows Steve probably wouldn't want to be pushed around like that, at least not at first.
The longer Eddie thinks about it, the longer he has Steve so close to him, the longer he has his hands on him, the more Eddie craves it. He's never wanted like this before, he doesn't think.
He's not super experienced beyond quick and dirty hand jobs or blow jobs. He's never had someone touch him like this before. Touching just to touch. Any touching during his previous encounters were just the quick preliminary touches to get the other guy out of his jeans. The touches didn't linger. They certainly didn't feel like this.
He tucks his head close to Steve's neck again, lets his lips just barely brush against the skin there, tries to keep his breath even. It could be written off as an accident, that he just got too close, because they're already so close. Steve could ignore it.
He doesn't.
He slides his hand down Eddie's side, past his hip to grip his thigh and hitch it up near Steve's hip. Eddie can't keep the gasp from escaping his mouth.
He's already half-hard, just from thinking thoughts about Steve. How the hell is he going to survive this?
Steve's hand travels back up the back of his thigh, stops right before it reaches his ass.
Eddie's heart is beating so fucking fast in his chest.
He pulls back to look at Steve. His eyes are dark, and his lips are red like he's been biting them. Eddie wants to bite them, too.
"Steve," Eddie says, unsure exactly what to say, what he could say to get Steve to want this. Does he have to convince him? Does he have to tell him it doesn't have to mean anything? It would be a lie - it would mean something to him. But if Steve only wants this now, when he's high, Eddie thinks he can handle that. He thinks he can be okay with it, if it means he gets to have this right now.
Steve shushes him though, doesn't seem to need any convincing before he leans in and kisses Eddie.
Eddie lets out a shuddering breath against his mouth.
He hadn't realized how much he's been wanting this because he never really let himself think about it. It's not just touch, not just anybody's touch, not just anybody's kiss, that he craves. It's Steve's touch, Steve's kiss. It's Steve's lips against his, Steve's body against his.
He obviously knows Steve is attractive, but they've grown close over the past few months.
He thinks Steve is probably one of the best friends he's ever had. And of course, with that comes other feelings because how could it not? How could anyone look at Steve and not want? How could anyone know Steve and not want him?
Eddie hasn't been thinking about it, about how he looks at Steve sometimes, about how he watches him. He hasn't thought about it because he knows what it means when his heart beats faster because of it. He knows what it means when his heart feels like it could burst out of his chest when he makes Steve laugh. He knows what it all means, so he hasn't let himself think about it.
But with Steve pressing sweet, gentle kisses against his mouth, the feelings slam into him. He's wanted this so bad.
This impossible crush, these impossible feelings that he has tried so hard to ignore, tried to get to lay dormant when he became friends with Steve, come rushing to the surface with him so close like this, with his mouth on Eddie's like it belongs there.
He pulls Steve's bottom lip into his mouth and bites it. He can't not. Steve gasps against his mouth.
He sucks on his lip gently, tongues at it to soothe the sting away, and hears Steve let out a sigh.
Steve's hand is still on his thigh, trapping his thigh against Steve's hip. He wants his hands on him, wants Steve to touch him everywhere.
He licks into Steve's mouth, slow and deep, their tongue sliding against each other like they've got all the time in the world.
Eddie's hand has been idle against Steve's chest, but he needs to touch, needs to feel him. So he slides his hand up to cup Steve's neck, to tilt his head to better lick into his mouth. He keeps his hand there, fingertips brushing the scar on his neck, his thumb digging into the hinge of his jaw.
He kisses him and kisses him and kisses him, until all the air in his lungs is gone, until he's hard in his shorts, until his lips feel swollen.
Steve's hand stays stubbornly on his thigh, not moving an inch up towards his ass. Eddie might be a little offended by it if he couldn't feel the way Steve is also hard in his shorts, if he hadn't just spent ten minutes getting to know the inside of his mouth.
He likes this so much, he realizes. He's never been the type to savor it - he hasn't ever really had the opportunity to. The few times he's had anything like this, it had to be quick, it had an expiration date, it had to be over as soon as possible. He's never just sat around and kissed someone until his jaw hurt, until his lips were aching.
He didn't expect it to be this easy, to just put a tiny little thread in the loop and have it spin so easily for him. He didn't think that maybe Steve had been wanting this too, craving this for just as long as he had.
He couldn't even imagine it - Steve, looking at him and wanting, Steve watching him when he's not looking the way that he watches Steve. He can't wrap his mind around it, Steve looking over at him being a dumbass in so many situations and still being like, yep, I want his tongue in my mouth.
But it feels like that's what this is. Because Steve's kissing him with just as much hunger. Steve's kissing him and has his hand on his thigh, gripping him like he owns him. Eddie wants him to push him on his back, to spread his thighs open and show him just how much of him he owns. He wants him.
He pushes his hips forward experimentally, a slow grind. It makes Steve groan against his mouth. The sound is addictive - Eddie wants to chase that sound, to make Steve groan over and over and over as he chases his pleasure between Eddie's thighs.
Steve bites his lip, harder than Eddie had bitten his, and it stings. They've been at it for so long that Eddie's lips were already getting swollen and sensitive, so Steve biting one of them like that pulls a moan out of him.
He pulls back, breathing heavy, to kiss his way down Steve's neck, to bite at his neck. He wants to cover him in marks - deep, purpling bruises. He wants to see his neck and his chest covered, a molten mess of love bites.
His heart stupidly stutters in his chest at the thought of biting a bruise the shape of a heart into his skin. God, he's so gone for him. He has a heart boner for him in addition to a regular one.
He pulls the neck of Steve's sweater down and sucks a bruise into the smooth, tan skin of his collarbone, and when he pulls back, the skin is a deep red. He smiles at his work, knows it's going to deepen in color with time. He's never felt possessive like this before, like he wants to cover him in bruises so everyone knows he's someone's, so everyone knows he's Eddie's.
Is he Eddie's?
The look in his eyes when Eddie looks back up at his face says yes.
Steve pulls Eddie on top of him, their bodies flush together again, and gets a hand in his hair. He tugs his head to the side so he can bite at Eddie's neck the way that Eddie was just gnawing on his. It startles a moan out of him. He didn't know his neck was so sensitive.
He lets Steve suck a bruise into his skin and tries not to accidentally come because of it. All the kissing, their bodies pressed together, their cocks hard and grinding together through layers of fabric - it all feels like so much, too much almost.
He's on top of him, but he doesn't feel in control right now at all.
He can barely stop himself from grinding down and coming in his underwear like a teenager. He wants it, wants to come with Steve's mouth on his skin.
Steve kisses his neck, where his skin is likely bruised now, before he pulls back, thumbing at the mark like he's satisfied he left his mark on Eddie as well.
Steve releases his hair from his grip and slides his hand down between them. Eddie can't stop the groan that leaves his mouth at feeling Steve palm at him.
"Is this okay?" he asks, and Eddie isn't sure what he's talking about - his hand touching Eddie's dick? Hell yeah, that's okay. This entire thing? Again, hell fucking yeah.
He nods, because any way you spin it, everything they've been doing is a-okay with Eddie.
Steve grins up at him and Eddie can't help but grin back at him, still in awe that this is happening.
Steve undoes the buttons on Eddie's shorts and unties the tie at the waistband of his own shorts.
Eddie sits up to shove his shorts down and off, watching Steve do the same, leaving his shorts around his thighs.
He looks at Steve's bulge, his cock hard and straining in his underwear. He wants to lean in and put his mouth on it. Get the fabric nice and wet with a mix of his spit and Steve's precome. He wants to suck it through the fabric, tongue at the soft fabric and pull noises from Steve the entire time.
He wants to put his mouth on Steve's thighs. They're paler than the rest of his tan skin, milky and smooth. He wants to see that skin mottled and bruised too.
He can wait for those things, though. He thinks he has time. The thought makes him damn near giddy - the thought of more, of doing this again and in different ways, in every way possible. They haven't even made each other come yet and he's thinking about all the other ways he wants him. He's so far gone on him.
When Eddie lowers himself back down, he tries to keep his reaction to their cocks rubbing up against each other through their underwear to a minimum, but he feels a shiver run through him. It feels overwhelming, and they aren't even naked, aren't even touching cocks with nothing separating them.
He thinks that would probably be enough to make him come immediately, feeling the velvety skin of Steve's cock against his own as they grind together, if how overwhelming this feels is any indication. He feels like he's just a few breaths away from shoving his hips down and humping Steve with abandon until he's making a mess of both of them.
He grinds down against him slowly, trying not to overwhelm himself. He presses his mouth to Steve's again, tangling his tongue with his as his hips move. He rolls his hips against Steve's, their dicks pressed together tightly.
He pulls back to look down at the way they're pressed together and he groans. There's a wet spot on Steve's underwear where he's leaking precome into the fabric. He's losing his goddamn mind.
He sits up and pulls his shirt off so he has a moment to take a breath.
He leans back in and grinds down on Steve again, pushing Steve's sweater up, not sure how he's even still wearing it. Eddie's sweating and he was only in a short sleeved shirt.
Steve enthusiastically pulls his sweater up and in the excitement, it gets a little tangled getting over his head, so they have to stop grinding against each other to figure it out. Steve's head pops out of the head hole of his sweater and Eddie can't help but sit up and laugh. Steve arms are caught up in his sweater, awkwardly making his arms box his head in.
He looks flushed and aroused and out of breath from struggling with his sweater and his hair is a mess, but he's still so unfairly pretty.
Steve pouts at him and says, "Don't laugh at me. Help me out of this?"
"Hmm, I don't know," Eddie says with a grin, sliding his hands up to push the sweater up a little, exposing more of Steve's biceps. Eddie wants to bite them. "I kind of like having you at my disposal here."
He says it as a joke, mostly, ready to help Steve get his arms untangled from his sweater. But he sees the way Steve's eyes darken, sees the way he licks his lips like he likes that thought, the thought of being at Eddie's mercy.
He asks, "You like that?" because he has to be sure he isn't reading this wrong. Steve nods his head, slow and sure.
So Eddie grinds his hips down slowly, pushes Steve's sweater up more, to free up more of his arms. He pushes his hands into the arm holes of the sweater and tangles his fingers with Steve's hands where they lay draped above his head. He knows their hands are going to get sweaty underneath the fabric of Steve's sweater, but he doesn't care right now.
He presses his weight more fully onto Steve, uses his hands to press Steve's into the mattress as leverage. He spreads his legs, knees digging into the bed so he can roll his hips against Steve's harder, still keeping the pace slow and steady.
"Fuck," Steve says on a breath out, keening at the rough way Eddie's cock is sliding against his.
They're breathing the same air, not really kissing, mouths barely an inch apart.
"Yeah?" Eddie asks, and Steve nods desperately. He closes the gap between their mouths and licks at Steve's open mouth, his tongue brushing past Steve's lips, tasting him.
His brain is only a little hazy, but Steve's tongue feels hot against his, hot like the embers at the end of the joint they just shared.
He rocks down against Steve faster, picking up the pace, feels the vibration of his moans against his mouth more than he hears them.
He feels the familiar coiling in his stomach, the tightening of his core muscles that tells him he's going to come soon.
He gives into it, huddling impossibly closer, hips moving faster, less controlled than before. He's sweating, his hands on Steve's are damp, beads of sweat rolling down his neck. But he keeps going, he's so fucking close.
"Stevie," he whispers against his mouth.
Steve nods, says back, "I'm gonna come."
Yeah, yeah.
So Eddie releases one of Steve's hands and gets it between them, squeezes Steve through his underwear. He lets Steve jerk his hips up against his hand, chasing his orgasm. He curls his hand around Steve more firmly, hears the curse that falls from his lips.
He bites at Steve's bottom lip, the feeling of his cock riding up against the back of his hand as he gets Steve off overwhelming, Steve's gasping breaths and groans the only thing he can focus on.
Steve lets out a sharp cry and Eddie feels the wet heat of his come seeping through Steve's briefs. He strokes Steve's cock through his briefs, feeling him tremble a little when it gets to be overstimulating.
Steve, having finally weaseled his hands out of his sweater, rubs his hands up and down Eddie's back gently as he comes down.
It's the tenderness, this moment of connection, that has Eddie leaning down and pressing his teeth into the soft skin of Steve's neck.
He's still riding close to the edge and now feeling the satisfaction of making Steve come. He turns his hand over and barely has to put any pressure on his dick before he's coming too, his open mouth pressed against Steve's throat.
He pants through the waves of it, feeling his briefs get stickier and wetter with each pulse.
He's shivering when it's over, the sweat on his skin drying, the come in his underwear cooling.
His hand feels sticky when he pulls it away and he wonders if he'd taste a combination of their come if he licked his palm right now. His cock jerks painfully at the thought.
He rolls off Steve, sated and sweaty, breath still shaky.
Steve reaches between them and laces their fingers together.
"Are we- what are we doing?" he asks, a little nervous, looking over at him.
Steve brings their entwined hands up to his mouth and kisses the back of Eddie's hand.
"Whatever you want," Steve says easily, letting their hands fall between them again.
Eddie steels himself and bites the bullet. "And if I want everything?" he asks, heart in his throat.
Steve smiles shyly at him and squeezes his hand. "I can work with that."
402 notes · View notes
lovebvni · 2 months
Text
Shifting Timeframe? Pick A Pile
Welcome back to my bi-weekly pick a piles!! I was compelled by spirit to do a timeframe of when you will probably shift. Remember, general reading and YOU have the POWER to change it.
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Also I've been seeing 325 a lot  - 3/25 is actually my birthday SOOO if anyone knows what that means please tell me!
Everything comes with a grain of salt, I will also have a shufflemancy going on in the background.
So, take a deep breath in...
Now out...
What emoji is your third eye telling you to pick?
🥚|🍭|🍬|🍶
pile 1 -- egg
A Month and a half, your day to shine.
Cards: Strength reversed, The Tower, Temperance, Knight of Cups
BESTIE OMG UR SO CLOSE TO SHIFTING WTF IM SO PROUD OF YOU, I KNOW ITS BEEN HARD BECAUSE OF THE TOWER CARD BUT I KNOW YOU'RE PUSHING THROUGH! You may feel vulnerable in some way, like you're not good enough? You are! You are the universe, you are the most powerful being EVER!! You should also take a quick 1-2 day break from shifting - this will also help you shifthere will also be someone coming in *possibly a friend, witch, or spiritual person* helping you out on this journey - they might be the one to give that final push.
Possible Personality Traits: Loving, giving, annoying {To yourself}, confident {On the outside}
Shufflemancy :
"Don't be afraid of heights 'cause we flyin'" - Rebels Call Me Karizma
"The time is upon you to show them what you can do and soon they will know that the day has COMEEE" - The Day - From Boku no Hero Academia, NateWantsToBattle
"I'm a little faded" - Slumber Party - Ashnikko
"It's exactly the same, they say 'why do you dress that way?' 'why do you act that way?' 'why aren't you just like me?" - Fire Drill - Melanie Martinez
Phrases, Numbers, Signs and more: 777, 666, Christmas, Bakugou, short tempered, Denki, Shinsou, shy, "You've got a friend in me", "Movie night!!", "Get in loser, we're going to the mall", "So you're obsessed?" Capricorn, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Taurus.
pile 2 -- lollipop
Within the next 48 hours, your dreams will come true.
(2 days to a week, actually)
Cards : 9 of Pentacles reversed, King of Pentacles reversed, 3 of Wands, The Fool reversed
OKAY FIRST OF ALL HOW LONG HAVE YALL BEEN SHIFTING I FEEL LIKE UR JUST A VERY SPIRITUAL PERSON!! But I feel like to get to that point you have to be less dependent on the things outside around you, and more on yourself. YOU'RE the one who can shift, the signs mean NOTHING if you don't take action. Do you abuse your power to shift in one way or another? Like start denying it exists JUST so The Universe will let you shift? Approach shifting like a timid animal in your backyard that's hurt. But yes, you definitely are shifting within the week. Your child-like wonder inspires me btw 
but keep your hopes up, you need more faith and hope that you will shift!
Possible Personality Traits: Softie on the inside, kind of shy?, risk taker, lover of music, goofy
Shufflemancy:
"Stupid boy think that I need him, I go cold like change the seasons, I go red hot like a demon, I go ghost for no damn reason, stupid boy think that I need him, stupid boy think that I need him." - Stupid - Ashinikko
"I'm not your friend, or anything damn, you think that you're the man, I think therefore I am" - Therefore I am - Billie Eilish
"You've got troubles, I've got em too, there isn't anything I wouldn't do for you." - You've Got A Friend In Me - Cavetown
"We bark alot" - GOODMORNINGTOKYO! - TOKYO'S REVENGE
"We can fill it up with grass and all the things that make it warm. When you leave to go fly across the sea, I'll be waiting here with Junior and the flowers that we've grown." - Things That Make It Warm - Cavetown
"We might hotwire this old car to drive" - Everything Is Temporary (Sticks and Stones) - Cavetown
"Look like I'm going for a swim" - Chun-Li Nicki Minaj
Phrases, Numbers, Signs and more:  Denki Kaminari, "I'm failing all my classes omg", 444, "Hey, a frown won't get you anywhere - SMILE MORE!", calming music, study sessions, sexually active, dirty-minded, lack of physical affection, "Rough around the edges", Cavetown, Air Signs, any dominant sign tbh, "Have high hopes but low expectation", UA traitor, villian
pile 3 -- candy
44 Days, but It feels like years.
TW: DRUGS, SMOKING, ETC.
Cards : 8 of Pentacles, King of Cups reversed, 6 of Cups, The Hierophant
If you've read any of my other tarot readings you KNOWWW the hierophant makes me feel like I'm being choked, but before you shift you're going to realize something new, something new will come to you I suppose? So it will be a new beginning, then shift, it will probably be a new hobby or a job you like. And, like pile one, you will get good advice from a friend. I know some of you guys are like 'im not attracted to people in this reality' but you might be soon?? it's probably someone you knew in your past life or something. It may just be a friendship though. But the hierophant is just emphasizing what I just said, a good friend is going to give you advice.
Possible Personality Traits: ignored, quiet, lonely, friendly, smart, emotional
Shufflemancy:
"The worlds a little blurry, or maybe it's my eyes." - Ilomilo - Billie Eilish
"Maybe I'm too emotional, or maybe you never cared at alllll" - Good 4 U - Olivia Rodrigo
"I don't smoke, I just like how it smells" - Cigaratte Ahegao - Penelope Scott
Phrases, Numbers, Signs and more: Senpai/teacher, "You sure do cry a lot.", "You shouldn't care so much", watching youtube, hbu?, ignorant accidently, 666, 999, 69, st0ner, dr!nking, first time
pile 4 -- drink
Anywhere from to day to the 29th of this month
Cards : Queen of Wands, The Lovers, Judgement, Page of Cups
CLEARLY YOU'RE SHIFTING FOR SOMEONE WITH THE LOVERS CARD COMING OUT I MEAN SAME BESTIE, you don't know when you will shift, and you def look to higher spirits. Try some shadow work - your inner child needs healing. The universe sees you and how much you have bene struggling and working towards this, and it thanks you deeply. Your hard work is going to pay off soon!
Possible Personality Traits: Disappointed often, violent, gay, dramatic ASF, popular, two face, probably on medication, has been hurt physically, emotionally, or some other way
Shufflemancy :
"She moves on pretty BLOODY QUICK" - Your New Boyfriend - Wilber Soot
Literally any MHA song
"Baby hotline, please hold me close to you!" - Baby Hotline - Jack Stauber
"She said you were a hero, you played the part. But you ruined her in a year, don't act like it was hard. And you swear you didn't know,  I wonder why you didn't ask, she was sleeping in your clothes, but now she's got to get to class." - Your Power - Billie Eilish
I hope this pick - a pile resognated! I've been going through a lot this week and I don't know if my accuracy may have failed bc of the stress I'm experiencing but I'm so glad like NOBODY is shifting in a year+( like 2023) bc I know you all work SO HARD to shift.
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Share Our Skin (part 1).
18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI
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A/N: Hi everyone! It's been ages since I last posted a fic on here, so I am really nervous.
I have been working on this one for a while now. This is the first part of a wonderfully unhinged request from the lovely @twistedmelodies. Hannah, I really cannot thank you enough for your incredible patience and kindness!
This series is going to have three parts; the first two are building the background for the third and last chapter that is going to be 🔥.
I really hope you like this.
Word count: 8.1K
Pairing: Josh x female!reader
Warnings: fluff, NSFW 18+ONLY, graphic sexual content, oral (f!receiving), protected sex, rat tail Josh.
Summary: You stumble upon a nice little cinema in the city you have just moved to and you meet an even nicer boy, there.
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You didn't do that on purpose.
Absolutely not.
But, as you would soon learn, in life you should always prepare for trouble and only hope for it not to become double.
It was safe to say, though, that this time you had fucked up big time.
You had met him at your local cinema.
You had just moved to a new town alone and you had started to explore your surroundings, trying to find some interesting things to do, when you had stumbled upon a nice little cinema, just at the corner of your neighborhood.
You almost hadn't noticed it at first because it was mid afternoon on a Wednesday and it was closed.
The building looked absolutely anonymous but, as you lifted your gaze to the darkening clouds swirling in the sky, promising a storm soon, you spotted a faded unlit white and red sign saying "Cinema" and nothing more.
You made a mental note to try it on Saturday night, though.
You loved going to the cinema, so having one so close was making you feel a little less like a fish out of the water in a town you didn't know well.
Saturday evening came quickly.
You got ready and made your way to the building, finding the sign lit and a small queue of people just outside the door, which was still closed.
You learned that every Saturday evening they showed old movies. That night they were showing "To Catch a Thief", one of your favorite ever.
You waited in line and about ten minutes later you heard the sound of keys giggling and the door finally opened.
People slowly started to move inside and soon you were standing in front of the ticket booth.
The cinema from the inside looked old-fashioned but the atmosphere was warm and inviting. The first thing you noticed upon entering was the salty buttery smell of fresh popcorn that brought you back to when you used to go to the cinema every Sunday afternoon with your parents.
A little sense of nostalgia about your childhood invaded you and you started to get lost into your head.
You were quickly brought out of your tangled thoughts by a voice, nice and crystal clear.
"Good evening, love. What can I do for you?"
The voice belonged to a boy about your age with curly hair and buzzed sides, a perfect heartstopping smile and the most sparkly brown eyes you had ever seen.
You were at a loss of words.
Your expression must have been incredibly funny because he giggled and repeated himself, his smile deepening even more,making a tiny dimple appear on his left cheek.
It was even worse.
He had the cutest giggle you had ever heard.
You had to bite the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from getting lost into your head again.
You blushed furiously and averted your eyes from his face, starting to stumble over your words making him giggle again, sweetly.
"Uh…I-I…" you tried to say but your brain didn't intend to cooperate.
You were making a fool of yourself and blocking the line. You heard people behind you starting to complain and you shook your head to finslly get a grip on yourself.
"Uh… a ticket please" you managed to say without looking at him and rummaging inside your purse for your wallet.
"It's 10$" he said, still smiling and as you handed him the money, your fingertips touched his and you felt a little jolt of electricity.
His fingers were warm and soft.
When he handed you the ticket he also slid a little chocolate bar your way.
When you frowned, he spoke.
"It's on the me, don't worry" he said gently and you blushed even more, thanking him in a sliver of voice and scurrying away absolutely embarrassed.
You kept scolding yourself for looking like an idiot in front of everyone.
When you entered the cinema room, you felt a nice warm feeling spread in your chest and again you remembered how much you loved and you missed cinemas.
The room brought you fifteen years back.
The cherry wood of the walls and the low golden lights made you feel at home.
The red velvet seats were incredibly soft to the touch and looked absolutely comfortable and well-kept.
The floor was covered in a dark grey carpeting that muffled your steps.
Like an enthusiastic child, you slowly made your way down the central corridor tracing your fingers dreamily against the side of the seats and scanning the room for the perfect spot.
Once you found it, you pulled down the seat and sat down on the soft cushion.
You started rummaging inside your purse for your phone and found the little chocolate bar the ticket-boy had gifted you and your stomach rumbled.
You had already had dinner so you weren't hungry. But you always had a sweet tooth so you couldn't resist.
You unwrapped the chocolate and took a bite.
Your eyes scanned the room slowly as you let the chocolate melt on your tongue. Inevitably your mind kept conjuring up images of the boy that had made your brain go blank and you mentally slapped yourself again for the terrible first impression you made.
Suddenly, the light faded out and the white screen came to life, making you momentarily forget about the cute boy and your clumsiness.
You lost yourself in the images.
Grace Kelly's dresses were a dream and Cary Grant was absolutely stunning. You were transported back in time by Hitchcock's virtuosity.
Before you knew it, the end credits were rolling slowly onto the screen and the light were turned on again.
People started to exit the room quietly and you stood to follow them.
You were the last one to exit.
The boy wasn't behind the register now, but he had a broom and was carefully sweeping the floor near the exit door.
He lifted his eyes from the ground as you approached the door and was quick to grab the door handle and open the door for you, like Cary Grant had done in the movie, you noticed.
Such a gentleman, you thought, a delicate blush covered your cheeks and his at the same time.
You thanked him. As you stood there ready to go home, he let go of the broom, leaning it against the wall and offered you his hand.
"I'm Josh," he said with that same big smile and bright eyes as before.
You reciprocated the greeting and introduced yourself too, shaking his hand.
He repeated your name slowly, rolling every letter on his tongue and you found yourself staring at his full lips moving.
He kept your hand in his for a second longer than what was considered usual and you couldn't help but notice his warmth and softness, compared to your icy skin.
You both blushed as you shook hands and let go, awkwardly standing one in front of the other in silence
"Well, I really have to go now," you said to break the silence.
"Good night, Josh" you added with a small smile and you saw his eyes twinkling upon hearing his name rolling off your tongue.
He wished you good night, too, as you exited and slowly started to make your way back towards your flat.
When you crossed the road, you couldn't help but turn around and look towards the building.
A warm smile spread on your lips before you could stop yourself when you saw that he was already looking at you from behind the cinema glassdoor.
As you caught him staring, he swiftly hid behind the wall but showed up again seconds later with a guilty grin and a hand rubbing the back of his neck, a bit embarassed.
God he is so sweet, you thought and blushed under his gaze despite being so far away from him.
He waved at you and you reciprocated, feeling something stir in your belly, like a hundred butterflies spreading their fluttering multicolored wings.
That night you couldn't fall asleep for hours and when, finally, sleep graced you, your dreams were haunted by beautiful brown eyes and contagious smiles.
You woke up with a jolt to the sound of your alarm clock. You cursed it because it had interrupted the sweetest dream you had ever had.
Of course you were dreaming of Josh.
You were afraid that you were starting to develop the biggest crush on that little cinema guy.
By the end of the week, you were sure you were madly in love with him.
You couldn't go five minutes without thinking about him and you hated yourself for that.
You didn't even know him, how could you feel that way for him already?
On Saturday evening you decided that you needed to see him again, the thought of his smile was more or less the only thing keeping you from saying to hell with everything. The week at work had been absolutely draining so you really needed a breath of fresh air.
And, of course, the cinema was the first thing that came to your mind.
This time they were showing "Pulp Fiction". You had already seen it millions of times but you didn't mind as long as you could see him again.
There were more people waiting outside than the last time.
When you entered, you saw him there, tearing tickets and serving popcorn and beverage to customers, expertedly.
Your heart started beating wildly as you waited for your turn.
Finally, you were in front of him again.
When he saw you, you were graced with that heartstopping smile that your brain had replayed hundreds of times in your dreams.
He greeted you using your name in his usual sweet tone and you tried not to swoon in front of him.
"How are you tonight? Ready for some Tarantino?" He asked playfully and you nodded, unable to control your smile.
"Yes, I am. I've seen it many times but never in a cinema, actually" you confessed as he gave you your ticket and change.
"Oh, it's way better on the big screen, trust me" he said and winked as he handed you the little bag of popcorn you had ordered.
You blushed at the gesture and entered the cinema room.
You chose your usual spot and you started eating popcorn waiting for the movie to start.
The film was almost finished when you reached the bottom of the popcorn box, feeling the little grains of salt under your fingertips.
And something else too.
There was something inside.
You took the item between your fingers and brought it out of the box. Thanks to the light coming from the screen you saw what it was.
It was the same chocolate bar that he had offered you the first time you met. But it wasn't alone. It was attached to a little strip of paper folded on itself.
You detached the chocolate from the paper and unfolded it.
Despite the darkness, you could see what had been handwritten inside.
"This is to make it up to you for last Saturday night. I should have at least offered to walk you home. I shouldn't have let you go out alone at night. I am so sorry. I would have never forgiven myself if something had happened to you. I hope this doesn't come off as rude or creepy but here's my number, don't hesitate to text me when you get home safe or whenever you want to know what films we are showing.
P.S. Please, ignore this if I am overstepping.
Josh :)
You blushed instantly and unconsciously brought the paper close to your heart as you felt butterflies go crazy in your stomach.
Nobody had ever been so thoughtful with you.
You couldn't stop smiling and, as the credits started to roll on the screen and the light switched on again, you stood and walked out of the room to see if he was there.
You wanted to thank him for his kind gesture, but once you were in the hall, he was nowhere to be seen.
An old man with round glasses and kind eyes was sweeping the floor, exactly like Josh had been last Saturday.
You were a bit disappointed.
You wished him goodnight and walked home.
Once you arrived home, you decided to text that number anyway.
With trembling fingers you typed a brief message.
Hi, Josh. I found your message inside the box. Thank you for your kindness. I have just gotten home safe. Please, feel free to text me the scheduled films every week, thank you.
P.S. You were right! The film was so much better on the big screen!
Goodnight.
You signed the message and before you could start mulling over it and overthinking, you sent it.
A few minutes later, your phone vibrated on your nightstand.
I am glad you got home safe and you enjoyed the film.
Sweet dreams!
Josh.
You felt again those damn wings flutter in your chest. You read the message hearing his voice in your ears and you blushed even though nobody could see you.
You were already smitten with him.
That night you dreamt about him again.
~
It started like that.
Every Thursday he texted you the scheduled movies and every Saturday night you texted him when you got home safe.
He was always so sweet every time you saw him and every time you fell a little more in love with him.
Every Saturday night he kept offering you the same chocolate bar, hiding it inside your popcorn box together with a little slip of paper where he wrote little anecdotes about the movie you were watching.
He told you he was a film nerd, but you were honestly impressed by the extent of his knowledge.
One Saturday evening, the weather looked awful but, after a long week at work, you didn't really feel like staying at home. And you needed to see him, his smile was more or less the only thing that helped you keep your sanity.
You had spent the entire afternoon baking a cake for him, to thank him for all the times he had offered you a chocolate bar and shared his precious knowledge with you.
You had opted for a chocolate fudge cake, since he gave you major chocolate vibes.
Dark, sweet and captivating. The website described the recipe with those three words and they made you think about him, immediately.
The recipe wasn't exactly easy, so you spent all afternoon mixing and stirring ingredients and then wiping and cleaning the kitchen.
Once the cake was in the oven, you showered and started to get ready to go out.
You had been so busy that you didn't even heard your phone vibrate with a message and then a phone call.
When everything was ready, you placed the cake in a box and exited your apartment.
The sky was dark. The clouds swirling fast and looking menacing and an intermittent rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance.
You grabbed an umbrella and walked to the cinema.
Once you arrived there, though, you were very surprised to find the sign unlit and the doors closed.
You checked the time on your watch and noticed that the cinema was usually open at that hour.
You knocked but the lights inside were off.
You started to worry that something had happened to him
You knocked again, just before a loud thunder shook the glassdoor.
You flinched at the loud noise but your heart flooded with relief as the lights inside switched on and you saw Josh make his way towards you with keys in his hand.
His smile was a little surprised but beaming as always.
"Hi, darling, what are you doing here? The storm is about to hit" he greeted you and said, looking up at the darkening sky.
"You didn't read my text, did you?" He added then, still smiling, at your confused expression.
You panicked and started rummaging through your bag for your phone.
"Hey, hey, calm down, it's ok!" He said placing a warm hand on your arm. "I texted you to tell you that tonight the cinema was closed due to the incoming storm. I even called you but after one call I didn't insist because I thought you were out with somebody and I didn't want to bother you." He said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck and smiling, a little embarrassed. His cheeks pinkened slightly.
"Oh, I am so sorry Josh, I spent the entire afternoon baking this cake and I didn’t look at my phone." You started rambling, then added in a sliver of voice, "this is for you, for your kindness and sweetness"
You handed him the box as you started to back away from the door.
"Hey, darling, please don't go. Stay. I am really happy to see you. I don't want you to go away and…" he stopped for a second before continuing, casting his eyes down to the pavement.
"And I don't really feel like staying here alone working during a storm, so please stay" he said quickly, his cheeks pinkening even more.
"You can even choose the film tonight, it will be a private screening" he added and winked, playfully.
You blushed at his sweet request and after a few seconds you agreed. In reality, you had decided straight away to stay, but you didn't want him to believe you were too desperate.
His smile beamed even more when you accepted and he motioned for you to take his arm.
Then he closed the door behind you and escorted you inside like a gentleman, thanking you profusely for the cake.
You were really afraid he could hear your heart beating wildly in your chest at the thought of spending the evening alone with him.
He started leading you to a part of the cinema that was restricted to the public.
He opened a door, flicked on the lights and motioned for you to enter.
At that moment, you understood that he had taken you to the very screening room. You had never been inside one and you were mesmerized by everything you saw there.
You gasped and he chuckled.
"Here's were the magic happens" he said while spreading his arms wide.
You started to take a look around but you were interrupted by his voice as he placed the cakebox on the table and opened it.
"Wow, love! This cake looks delicious! How did you know chocolate is one of my favourite things in the world?" He asked, his eyes glittering with happiness.
"I just guessed" you answered sheepishly, blushing at his compliment.
He looked at you with a strange light in his eyes but the moment was interrupted by a loud thunder that shook the whole building.
You both flinched at the loud sound.
"Now, I really have to sort these new films that arrived today. But you can do as you were at home, you can choose the movie you want to see and I'll set it up for you while you get comfortable on the seats downstairs." He explained.
He pointed to a staircase that lead to the cinema room downstairs.
"Are you sure you don't need a hand with those films? I can help you so we can sort it out quickly and watch the movie together." You asked tentatively. You really didn't want to watch the movie alone while he worked.
It didn't seem right to you.
"Well, I don't really want you to work on Saturday night, really. I can do it myself, it won't take much time. Thank you, darling, but you just have to choose the movie and relax" he said sweetly, motioning you towards a closet full of rolls of film.
He left you there and you started to take a look around among all those movies.
This was honestly one of your dreams coming true.
You always loved movies and you always wanted to know what happened behind the door of the screening room.
You felt giddy being in such a special place.
Your eyes landed almost immediately on one of your favorites of all the times.
Your friends and family mocked you because whenever there was a movie to choose, you always picked that one, without even caring about how many times you had seen it.
"The Shining" was written in bold red lettering on one side of a roll on the bottom of the closet.
You picked it gently, trying not to make the others fall to the ground.
You assessed the weight of the film between your hands and you felt like a little girl with her favorite toy.
You turned around and he lifted his gaze from one of the boxes of new films.
He spotted the title immediately and bit his lip with a beautiful smile.
You heard him mumble something low under his breath but you caught it anyway.
"God, you are perfect" he whispered before catching himself and giggling, noticing that you had heard him.
You blushed and so did he.
You really didn't want to watch the movie without him so you told him and offered again to help him.
"I'd love to see this, but only if you let me help you with those boxes first, I really mean it, Josh" you said and you saw as he mulled over your offer.
You knew he had refused your help only because he was a gentleman and didn't want to make you work on a Saturday.
You also knew that four hands were better that two, so you really wanted to convince him.
"You don't want to end up like Jack, do you?" You said tauntingly, referring to the main character of the movie.
"All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, remember?" You continued and you saw his smile beaming again at your reference.
"All right, you sold me, darling," he said chuckling "I could really need some help. Plus, it's been a lot since I last watched that masterpiece, I'd love to see it again with you with the cinema all to ourselves. But only if you promise me that, after, you'll eat that cake with me" he added, pointing a finger at you.
"Ok, now tell me, what do we have to do?" You asked him, curiously.
"We have to classify these rolls briefly and then order them alphabetically on that shelf" he explained and you sat next to him, ready to work.
In less than an hour, you had finished and, meanwhile, the storm seemed to have passed. An occasional rumble of thunder could be heard far away.
He started thanking you profusely but you quickly interrupted him saying that that wasn't that big of a deal.
In reality, the truth was that you had loved spending some time alone with him. His presence was absolutely captivating and his eyes beaming while he told you every little thing he knew about those films. You could have listened to him talk for hours and hours nonstop about his passion.
"Now we can finally relax" he said, gently taking the roll you had previously chosen and starting the various machines that occupied one side of the room.
You watched mesmerized as he made quick work of operating the projector and you gasped when you saw the first images light up the screen in the cinema room from the little window in front of you.
He winked at you and you tried so hard not to swoon you had to bite your tongue.
"Here we go, love, let's go search for the best seats," he said, grabbing the cake box and guiding you down the stairs with a warm hand on your back.
You felt the butterflies go crazy in your stomach again at that simple touch.
He guided you to the center of the seats and motioned for you to choose.
You sat down in the same place you always chose and he sat down next to you placing the box on the seat next to him.
As the opening credits started to roll on the screen, he came closer to whisper into your ear.
"Wait here, I'll just go get two forks for the cake and I'll be right back" he said, his warm breath hitting your neck, making goosebumps raise onto your skin.
A few minutes later, he came back with two forks and two cans of coke. He settled them on the floor next to you.
As you thanked him, he opened the cake box and handed it to you, along with a fork so you could take the first bite.
"No, Josh, the cake is yours, you have to take the first bite. I really hope you like it" you said.
Worry started to creep up on you. You were mentally retracing the recipe steps for the millionth time to check if you had forgotten something.
You watched with bated breath as he sank the fork into the soft cake and brought a bite to his mouth.
He started chewing slowly and moaned in pleasure at the enveloping taste of the cake.
"Good Heavens, this is delicious, love. You are the queen of chocolate cakes." He said still chewing and looking at you, amazed.
You sighed in relief and watched mesmerized as his jaw clenched and unclenched with every bite he took.
You were quickly brought out of your reverie when he motioned for you to get a taste, too.
You had to admit that it was really good, and the perfect treat for a movie night with him.
As you ate and watched the movie, every once in a while he moved closer to whisper little anecdotes about the movie into your ear.
You usually hated when people disturbed you during a movie, but, with him, it was different.
His voice was so soothing and soft that you didn't want him to stop. You would have spent the entire night just listening to him talk about anything and everything.
After some time, you heard a sudden loud thunder and, all of a sudden, everything was dark around you.
"Oh, fuck" you heard him groan as you rummaged through your bag to get your phone and turn on the flashlight.
Its white light illuminated the room casting a spectral glow on everything.
"I can't believe it" he said again, dragging a hand on his face.
Another crash of thunder shook the building.
Then he started giggling. And you couldn't help but mirror him.
"Ok, I think that the storm decided that we shouldn't see anything tonight." He scoffed and you giggled, helpless.
Silence encompassed the room, then. The only sounds you could hear were his regular breathing and the harsh wind outside.
Suddenly he stood up with a new idea.
"Ok listen, I am pretty sure there are some candles under the stage. A few years ago this was a theatre, so there are a lot of scenery in the storage closet" he said with a hopeful look into his eyes.
"Let's go, lead the way" you said and stood up next to him.
You followed him through a door and down some narrow steps that led behind the white screen.
You almost fell on the floor because everything was extremely dark despite your flashlight.
He caught you before you could smash yourself to the ground and grasped one of your hands in his to keep you from falling again.
His skin was so soft and warm that you felt a little shock of electricity at the contact.
He guided you down the corridor and stopped in front of a door. He unlocked it and entered, bringing you with him.
The room was packed with all kinds of handpainted scenery.
He spotted the box of tealights and matches next to the very door and grabbed it. He handed it to you and grabbed what looked like a big pile of velvet fabric that was on a table.
"What is that?" You asked and he snickered.
"Those are the old velvet curtains of the theater. In case we get cold" he said and you laughed
"That's creative" you said and he chuckled.
"Let's go back, it's too dark in here" he said in a spooky voice.
"That sounds like a last line before getting killed by the monster in a horror movie" you whispered and he giggled.
Once you were back into the main cinema room you started placing tealights all around you and slowly the room was immersed in the golden light of many tiny flames.
You both decided to move to the first row of seats, right in front of the stage, so there was more light.
You sat down next to him again and you both listened in silence to the storm raging outside.
Then he turned towards you and spoke.
"I am glad you are here but I am sorry that you are stuck with me instead of being in the comfort of your house. '' He said sheepishly.
"I am happy to be here with you and not alone at home, honestly" you answered him, turning towards him, too.
His flawless skin was glowing golden in the feeble light of the candles and his eyes were the same shade as the chocolate cake that lied abandoned on the floor.
You lost yourself inside them.
He had the innate capacity of drawing you in, like a magnet.
You couldn't control yourself and, honestly, you didn't want to.
Before you knew it, his lips were pressing against yours, hot, soft and so gentle.
You felt your head spin as your heart melted from that simple kiss alone.
You were shocked when he pulled away and he must have seen it in your expression because he immediately started apologizing.
But you didn't hear a single word.
Your mind froze in the exact moment his lips parted from yours, depriving you from their warmth.
There was only one thought occupying your mind.
Him.
Without thinking, your hands snaked on the back of his neck and you dragged him towards you again, pressing your lips against his and successfully interrupting his ramblings.
You felt something under your fingertips and smiled in the kiss as you understood that the hair at the nape of his neck had been braided in a little rat tail.
He placed one of his hands on your hip and a little groan escaped his lips as his fingers came in contact with your skin, left bare by your shirt riding slightly upwards.
He squeezed your hip and you whimpered into his mouth, parting your lips and allowing him to deepen the kiss.
When his warm tongue caressed your bottom lip, something into your brain snapped.
Without further thinking you climbed on his lap and lost yourself in the kiss that turned every second more heated.
Both his hands came to rest against your cheeks and the sound of smacking lips filled the room making your head hazy.
He parted from you then and chuckled at the whine that left your mouth.
You couldn't tear your eyes away from his perfect plump lips, glistening in the golden light of the candle.
Both your breaths were ragged, your faces flushed but you couldn't care less.
You started kissing again and this time his hands started to roam your body, quickly slipping under your clothes.
As his hands slowly traced your back and moved to your front, inching towards your breasts, you stopped him biting his lip lightly. You grasped his rattail and tugged at it, making his head tilt back with a low groan.
That sound went straight to your core and you knew there was no going back.
You needed to have him.
"Fuck, love. I can't get enough of you" he confessed against your lips and you shivered at the low register of his voice.
He kissed you again and started fumbling with the hem of your shirt.
"May I take this off?" He asked gently and you nodded quickly.
He took off your shirt and you shivered, feeling exposed in front of him.
He gently grabbed your arms with which you tried to cover yourself and caressed them, taking them slowly away from your body to admire you with care.
You had a very simple bralette on, but he was looking at you like you were wearing the most expensive Italian lace lingerie he had ever seen.
You blushed but he was quick to comfort you.
"Has anybody ever told you how beautiful you are?" He asked and you bit your bottom lip before crashing your mouth against his, his tongue soothing your need.
Your hands gripped the hem of his tshirt and you pulled it upwards, admiring him as he took the hint and slipped it off with a smug smirk.
He was astonishing, the perfect tanned skin of his chest was glowing against the deep red velvet of the seat he was sitting on.
You started kissing his neck nibbling at his skin and reveling in the little whiny breathy sounds escaping his reddened lips.
His fingers traced your spine, making you shiver, and they slowly inched towards the button of your jeans.
His expression was tentative when he looked at you, silently asking your permission to remove them.
You nodded and he winked before slowly unbuttoning them.
With some effort and chuckles, you managed to take them off with his help.
When you sat back down in his lap, he was quick to place his hands on your bare thighs, kneading the skin gently.
You never felt like that before.
As you sat there almost naked, a deep hunger overcame you, observing him taking in every little detail of your body.
Suddenly his lips were pressing featherlight kisses along your shoulders, where the straps of your bra sat against your flushed skin.
One of them slid down your arm and you shivered.
He kissed you again and his lips started a path down your throat and down the center of your chest.
"Josh" you heard yourself whisper as his fingers traced the other strap making it fall, too.
"Tell me, love" he whispered back, leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck.
"I need you, please" you whispered down to him, like a secret, even though nobody was there to hear.
"You want me to take this off?" He asked, tracing the hem of your bralette with his pointer finger.
You nodded and he smiled sweetly giving you what you needed.
He took his sweet time admiring you then, making you blush as you sat almost entirely naked in front of him.
He looked in awe, his eyes sparkled as he looked at you.
Then, his lips encompassed one of your nipples while his hands grabbed your hips and pushed you further against him.
You groaned as you felt his erection press against your core.
You started grinding against him and his breathing picked up as his mouth kept spoiling your chest, nibbling and sucking.
After a while, though, his hands stilled your hips completely.
"Baby, you should really stop this, or soon it will be game over for me" he smiled, out of breath and a little embarrassed.
You smiled at him and blushed, apologizing.
His hands on your hips gently pushed you upwards making you raise on your knees, still on his lap.
You rested your hands on his shoulders as he started placing a trail of kisses down your tummy and towards your lower abdomen.
When he reached the hem of your panties, he looked upwards and you forgot how to breath.
His eyes were wide like a deer in the headlights, pupils blown out, making the soft shade of brown disappear completely. His breathing was ragged and you shivered as it hit the damp trail that his lips had left on your tummy.
What he did next made your soul leave your body.
A little smirk appeared onto his lips as he took the little bow that sat at the center of the hem of your panties between his teeth and tugged at it before letting it snap back against you.
You whimpered and he chuckled. Then his mouth moved downwards, placing gentle hot kisses on your still covered mound.
"You want me to kiss you here, don't you?" He whispered looking up at you for permission and caressing your slit through the fabric with gentle fingers.
"Please, Josh, yes" You begged him and you shivered as his thumbs hooked on the sides of your underwear, pulling it slowly down your legs.
He groaned at the sight of the wet fabric parting from you and you shivered as the cool air of the room hit your flushed skin, squeezing your eyes shut.
"Hey, love, look at me, please" he whispered and you lowered your gaze.
He kept a steady eye contact as he slid down the seat just enough for his mouth to reach your center comfortably.
Both your hands were gripping the velvet seat behind his head, but when his mouth was close enough to your core that you could feel his warm breath hitting your wet skin, one snaked into his curls, gripping them tightly.
That simple gesture spurred him on and in a second his mouth was on you, his tongue lapping up and down your slit, parting your lower lips and making your breath stop in your throat.
You were holding onto his hair so hard you were afraid that you were hurting him.
Little breathy sounds escaped his lips as he ate you out at the perfect pace.
You felt his fingers slowly reaching between your legs and you stiffled a moan.
"Baby, let me hear you, nobody is here, you are safe" he whispered onto your skin and next thing you knew his name was echoing in the room alongside thunders as you slowly started to unravel.
He slid a finger inside slowly and started stroking your clit with the tip of his tongue in quick circles.
You shivered.
You were close.
"Josh" you gasped as he added another finger and curled them harshly, making you almost double over him.
Before you knew it, you were coming undone on top of him, clawing at his shoulder and his curls.
He parted from you slowly and you bit your lip at the sight of his lips and chin glistening with your arousal and his puppy eyes looking up at you wide and in awe.
"You did so good" he said against your lips before kissing you deeply.
Your hands reached quickly for his belt and you unbuckled it.
He groaned as your fingers pressed against his crotch while you were trying to free him.
When he was finally free from the confines of the fabric, you gasped.
He was beautiful, girthy and veiny. It made your mouth water.
You started stroking him gently and you saw as his head lolled backwards again the seat, exposing his neck.
You licked a stripe up his throat and stopped at his ear, tugging with your teeth at the little silver hoop that adorned his lobe.
Suddenly he grasped your wrist.
"Baby, careful" he said out of breath and you understood.
He was close.
"I want you Josh" you whispered onto his lips as thunders kept booming.
"Inside" you punctuated and he nodded.
He placed you on the seat next to him and stood, getting rid of his pants and reaching in his back pocket.
He fished out a condom and sat back in the same spot.
You climbed again on top of him, shaking lightly with anticipation.
You watched enraptured as he rolled it on himself and groaned in need.
His hands reached for your hips and guided you up.
He nodded towards himself signaling to you to grab him and guide him where you needed him.
You did so with trembling fingers and his voice immediately came to soothe your nerves.
"Don't be nervous, baby, it's just me. Take your time" he whispered onto the skin of your sternum that covered in goosebumps.
You kissed him and, at the same time, slid his tip a few times along your slit.
When you were ready, you lined him up with you and started to sink down slowly.
Both your gazes were trained between the two of you as he slowly entered you.
By the time he was fully inside of you, you were biting your lips so hard you were sure you were drawing blood.
He felt amazing inside, the sting of the stretch took your breath away completely at first but it slowly dulled.
You both exhaled shaky breaths and he held you still to let you adjust to him.
"You feel amazing, Josh" you whispered onto his lips.
"You feel like heaven, love" he whispered back, clenching his jaw, trying so hard not to move.
You moved, then, sliding up and then back down and feeling him caress your walls beautifully.
You started riding him at a slow pace and watched mesmerized that every time you pushed back down on him, his brows knitted together.
His eyes were shut and his mouth was parted, letting out whispered whimpers of pleasure every time.
You kissed him, deep and slow like your rhythm, but soon it turned famished and your rhythm quickened, with the guidance of his strong hands on your hips.
Your legs were burning, the effort of keeping your body upright when he was eating you out paired with the one you were enduring now started to make you move a bit more erratically on top of him and he was quick to notice the slight change.
"Your legs are hurting, aren't they, baby?" He whispered into your ear hoarsely.
"Yeah, a bit," you said out of breath "it's been a lot since I last…" Your voice trailed off and your face flushed in embarrassment.
"Hey, it's fine don't worry about it," he whispered pressing his nose in your cheek "let me help you"
He stopped you and stood carefully, with you still on his lap, showing his strength.
You wrapped your legs around his hips and pressed your body completely against his.
You were both covered in sweat and glistening in the low light.
He started walking backwards and soon, you were sitting on the side of the stage with his body between your parted legs
He managed to move the both of you while staying inside of you. You were impressed.
You admired the toned muscles of his arms as he flexed them to keep you close to him.
Once your body relaxed back, he searched for your gaze and you nodded, giving him permission to move.
He took the lead and set a quick and deep pace, hitting places you didn't even know existed inside of you.
The first thrusts made you slip down, so you were laying on your back on the stage gripping the edge tightly and looking up at the ceiling.
But you missed the eye contact with him so you managed to bring yourself back up.
You kissed him again and your hands tangled in his hair, making him moan in your mouth.
Suddenly he grabbed your ankle and hooked your leg in the crook of his elbow, opening you up even more for him.
His next thrust shook your entire behind, making you clench harshly around him and you couldn't help but claw at his back.
"Are you close, baby? I can feel you squeezing me so tight" he whispered into your ear as he kept his pace, strong and steady.
You nodded, unable to speak and slid your hands down his sweaty back and on his ass, digging your nails in the supple muscle there.
He groaned and angled his hips so he could hit your sweet spot repeatedly, while simultaneously stroking your clit with his thumb that he had previous wetted with his tongue.
A thunder so loud that rattled the walls muffled your cries as you hit your climax, enveloping him in a vice-like grip.
He followed soon after, the sounds escaping his mouth were unbridled and heavenly and echoed into the room sinfully.
His body fell limp against you, his damp forehead pressed to your shoulder as he tried to calm down his heavy breathing.
You tried to do the same, feeling his hands caressing your back gently.
He slowly pulled out of you and kissed you sweetly.
When your eyes met the both of you were still panting, with flushed cheeks and disheveled hair, but you couldn't hold back a little embarassed giggle at how the night had escalated.
"Thank God there is no one in here or that would have been a hell of a 18+ show" he whispered playfully into your ear and you cackled loudly.
He helped you get down from the stage and grabbed some of the tissues you had brought for the cake to clean you up gently.
Then he grabbed your clothes from the seat and handed them to you.
"Don't run away, I'll be right back" he said and walked towards the bathroom with his clothes in his hands.
He came back with other clothes on, a white tshirt and black jeans and brought you a clean tshirt too, so if you wanted to change.
It was black, with the cinema logo in bold red lettering and it reached you mid-thigh, like a perfect sleep tshirt.
You sat back in your respective seats and ate some more cake, chatting about your favorite movies.
After a while, you started yawning, the tiredness of the day was starting to making itself known.
He looked tired too, but the storm outside wasn't subsiding in the slightest, so you were stuck there with the lights still out.
Then you saw it.
The deep red velvet of the curtains folded on one of the seats.
He noticed your gaze and chuckled.
"We had the same idea, love" he said and stood helping you, unfolding the fabric and placing it on the floor.
Quickly you had set up a makeshift bed in the middle of the cinema room.
You laid down feeling extremely awkward but giddy to be there with him.
The velvet felt extremely soft against your skin end despite it being old, it was clean.
As you laid down, his arms brought you closer to him. You could feel his breathing, steady and calm on your neck and soon you were drifting off, listening to the wind whistling outside.
In the morning you woke up in his arms. You were a bit sore due to sleeping on the floor and other activities but you felt extremely at ease with him close to you.
He looked so soft, with sleepy eyes and his usual contagious grin on his lips.
It was hard to part from him but you had to go to work so you had to leave him there.
"Have a good day, love" he said in a hot whisper against your neck and you forcefully parted from him, knowing that if you didn't, you would end up tangled in the curtains with him, again.
But at work you couldn't focus, your mind kept drifting off to him.
And you spent the entire week thinking about him.
On Saturday you went to the cinema as always, they were showing "The Shining".
His smile at the register was very flirty and warm.
The evening went on as usual, but when the movie was almost over, you felt someone touching your elbow in the dark.
It was him.
He motioned for you to follow him and you ended up in the same showing room as last time.
Before you knew it you were pressed against the wall by his body, his lips hot on your neck and his hands sneaking around your body.
"Did you miss me, baby?" He said unbuttoning your jeans and sinking down on his knees.
"God, you don't even know how much" you whispered back, biting your bottom lip and sinking both your hands into his hair.
______________________________
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cleolinda · 1 year
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When I was a child in the '80s, I absorbed some kind of cultural truism that disco was ridiculous, embarrassing, cheesy, a cultural relic to be mocked at every turn. Remember, I'm under ten years old at this time, and I still manage to get this impression. There was another, milder sea change when grunge overtook the hair metal of the late '80s, so I never questioned the idea that disco should be dead and buried. We like silly things, I thought in my 13-year-old wisdom, and then we get over it.
Then I saw The Last Days of Disco (1998) while I was in college, and suddenly I realized that disco was fun, and it was like—it was in the roots of—music I already loved. And the end of that movie also—hints? tells you? I can't remember how explicitly—that disco didn't just fade like most trends; it was killed off.
I watched a lot of VH1 in those days, the late '90s, with a little TV sitting on my tall university-issue dresser, its corner overlooking my computer desk while I struggled with piles of assignments. This was the heyday of Behind the Music, so it was great background TV. And then one day (1999) they ran a Donna Summer—the "Queen of Disco"—concert special. The video up there is the song that immediately became my favorite of hers. It’s just instant serotonin to me, any version of it. I bought the whole VH1 album on CD, and "This Time I Know It's For Real" may genuinely be one of my all-time favorite songs, now, still, more than 20 years later. You can hear the original version (1989) here (the backing instrumental that I just found today is lovely), but the live version ten years later, the video up there, has a really special comeback—joyous, gracious survival—energy to it.
Watching the whole concert, I got it. Why the fuck did I ever think disco wasn't amazing? It was always the kind of thing I loved; we had all just been pretending that it was embarrassing glitter trash.
And then I found out why we were pretending. From densely-footnoted Wikipedia:
Disco Demolition Night was a Major League Baseball (MLB) promotion on Thursday, July 12, 1979, at Comiskey Park in Chicago, Illinois, that ended in a riot. At the climax of the event, a crate filled with disco records was blown up on the field between games of the twi-night doubleheader between the Chicago White Sox and the Detroit Tigers. Many had come to see the explosion rather than the games and rushed onto the field after the detonation. The playing field was so damaged by the explosion and by the rioters that the White Sox were required to forfeit the second game to the Tigers. [...] The popularity of disco declined significantly in late 1979 and 1980. Many disco artists carried on, but record companies began labeling their recordings as dance music. [...] Rolling Stone critic Dave Marsh described Disco Demolition Night as "your most paranoid fantasy about where the ethnic cleansing of the rock radio could ultimately lead". Marsh was one who, at the time, deemed the event an expression of bigotry, writing in a year-end 1979 feature that "white males, eighteen to thirty-four are the most likely to see disco as the product of homosexuals, blacks, and Latins, and therefore they're the most likely to respond to appeals to wipe out such threats to their security. It goes almost without saying that such appeals are racist and sexist, but broadcasting has never been an especially civil-libertarian medium." Nile Rodgers, producer and guitarist for the disco-era band Chic,
(who survived the disco era to make half the music I loved in the '80s)
likened the event to Nazi book burning. Gloria Gaynor, who had a huge disco hit with "I Will Survive," stated, "I've always believed it was an economic decision—an idea created by someone whose economic bottom line was being adversely affected by the popularity of disco music. So they got a mob mentality going."
The DJ who ran the whole thing, Steve Dahl, complains that it was VH1 itself—you know, those Behind the Music specials I was watching—circa 1996 that labeled the whole debacle as bigotry when it so totally was not, you guys, and he is so tired of defending himself. But I'm gonna tell you, Steve, I don't really care. Maybe Disco Demolition Night was your fault; maybe you were just a part of something so much bigger and uglier that you couldn't see the whole size of it. Can you draw a direct line from the weird bigoted vitriol directed at those dance records to Ronald Reagan, elected the very next year, not giving a single fuck about the AIDS crisis? You probably don't want to, but I will.
And I don't care because I can look around the U.S. right now and tell you, nearly 45 years later, people are trying to demolish a lot more than disco. The Club Q shooter was sentenced to life in prison just a few hours ago. It's Pride Month, and we're all sitting here holding our breaths. That's a terrible way to end a post about a beautiful happy song I love, I guess, unless you turn it around and say, that should have been the whole point of this post in the first place. Listen to this song and think, people wanted to destroy this music, this sound, this joy for some reason. They want to stop people from just living their lives, from dancing. And yet, disco is still here. It was there in 1979, and it was there when Donna Summer released this song in 1989, and it was there when she returned in 1999. The Queen of Disco passed away in 2012, and it's still here. I feel a lot of joy when I listen to this song, but I don't think I'd ever thought about it being the joy of grooving with something just because it’s beautiful, the joy of just being here, still.
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emmyrosee · 2 years
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hi emmy! congrats on the milestone!! (im sorry for being late 😔) u deserve so much more love <3!! i feel rlly proud for u, even tho i started following u not long ago :) i can feel u being sincere with everybody which is rlly cool! :D and i wanted to do 27 from your prompt list and 4 from the second list on hugs w/ tsukki :) i hope u have a great day and stay healthy and take care!! -anon :)
YOURE SO SWEET, THANK YOU FOR YOUR KIND WORDS 🥺💖
Honestly I want this to be a place where anyone feels welcome to poke around, so to kinda hear that you get that vibe really does mean the most. ALSOO my first Tsukki piece!! Hope I didn’t do him dirty!!
27 “I swear, I’m not scared”
4 Hugs “Comforting”
“Are you sure-”
“Yup. I am perfectly fine with this circumstance.”
Despite your quivering words and tense shoulders, your eyes never leave the screen. Seems to be mistake, as instantly, the monster portrayed in the film hides just in the background, barely in sight. Kei rolls his eyes while yours absolutely refuse to leave the monster that lingers without being noticed by the protagonists.
Next to you, an equally scared but exponentially enthralled Yachi, on the floor are the other three third years who shout at the stupidity of the characters on screen.
Movie nights have always been a tradition, especially on Halloween; like hell you were going to disrupt the fun.
Not like you were scared or anything.
“If you’re scared, I can ask Tadashi to-”
“I swear, I’m not scared,” you hiss. Your body betrays you, as your finger nails dig at your cuticles, anxiously scanning for the monster the movie finally has panned away from.
“But what if it’s real?” Hinata says, popping some gummy bears in his mouth. 
“What if what’s real?” Kageyama asks back.
“Like, what if you were killed in any rage? Do you think you would come back as one of those?” Hinata’s finger nudges at the screen, referring to the horrors as if they’re not fake.
“You keep talking and I’m gonna kill you in a fit of rage,” Kageyama snaps, and a few feet away, Tadashi snickers.
“If I come back as one of those demons, I’m gonna haunt you so bad!”
Next to him, Kei hears you whimper, and he lets out a snarl at the idea of the others making you afraid.
“That’s enough,” Kei finally snaps. “Shut the hell up, or we’re leaving.”
“What’s the matter?” Hinata teases. “You scaaaared we’re gonna haunt you?”
You look away, embarrassed. If looks could kill, Hinata would be buried by Kei’s.
“You already haunt my everyday life, that’s horrific enough.”
Finally, a quiet falls back over the group, engrossed in the rising tension. You look like you’re completely settled in rigor mortis, and you look so scared he thinks you could puke straight onto Yamaguchi’s rug.
With a deep inhale through his nose, sucking up his pride, Kei wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer to his side. You make a small, confused noise at the sudden affection, and he noses at your hairline.
“Kei? What’re you-”
“I’m scared,” he says simply, though there’s a total calm in his voice. He conceals you slightly in his frame, the flashing on screen dimmed in his hoodie fabric. “Hate this shit, but I know you want to finish it, so I’m just gonna... hold you.”
An overly wordy, but extremely soothing “I know your stubborn ass doesn’t want to leave, so I’ll keep your cover.”
You blink, surprised at the gentleness in his voice, but you decide to curl against him adoringly, melting in the comforting embrace, the friends scattered around you two being none the wiser to the chatter between you both.
You press an soft kiss to his jawline, feeling immensely better in the bulk of his arms. Your eyes gently flutter close and you take selfish inhales of his scent, mumbling a soft “thank you,” into the meat of his bicep. He nods and settles back down for his own physical comfort, the whole group gasping out as another scare plagues the air surrounding you both.
The scare fades, and you feel your breathing even out as you rest against your boyfriend, mind at ease and-
“Ohhhhh, I get it! Tsukishima wasn’t scared, but-”
There’s a sudden thump and a pained whine from Hinata, quickly then followed by “don’t kick me, Suckishima!” Your laughter gets muffled in the hoodie, mingled only with the other laughter from the other boy, Yachi quickly asking if the middle blocker was okay.
Definitely a tradition.
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drewharrisonwriter · 23 days
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Lifeline - Ch. 1: How It Used to Be
Pairings: Dieter Bravo x Female Reader, referred to as “Honey” 
Series Summary: After basically being dropped and rejected by every PR agency in Hollywood for being such a huge liability, Dieter Bravo must work on resetting his public image in the most unexpected ways.
Author's Notes: I have been working on this fic on and off for the past year, and this story is a little personal to me. Yes, I am trauma dumping in some scenes lol but I also want to say that there will be so many unrealistic things about Hollywood, actors, and PR/Marketing agencies here, to which I apologize.
Warnings: Angst, a little drama, lots of flashbacks. More warnings to come as the story progresses.
Read this on AO3 | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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He used to tell it like it was a scene out of an old movie—one of those moments that felt too perfect to be real. It was his mother’s second wedding, small and intimate, set against the backdrop of a Hawaiian-themed afternoon that felt worlds away from the life he’d been trying to build in Los Angeles. He had just flown back in that morning, still half-asleep and nursing the familiar sting of another failed audition. At thirty, he was barely scraping by, a struggling actor on the outskirts of a dream he couldn’t quite reach, but today wasn’t about him.
Dieter had stepped into the backyard, the one he’d known since he was a kid, and there she was—Honey. Twenty-one now, far away from the chubby teenager he remembered, dressed in a red dress that clung to her in all the right ways, standing at the far end of the room with a glass of brandy in her hand. The guests milled around, voices mingling with the soft strum of a ukulele, but all Dieter could see was her. He remembered how she smiled, that kind of smile that could light up a whole damn room, the way she looked when she thought no one was watching. She didn’t seem to belong there, not really—like she was too much for this small-town backyard wedding, too much for the quiet life he was still tangled in.
He’d always say it was like everything else went blurry, fading into the background as he watched her from across the room. Time slowed, like in the movies, and it was just him and Honey, her red dress vivid against the lush green of his mother’s backyard. He didn’t know how long he stood there, rooted to the spot, just staring at her, but it felt like something clicked in that moment. Like he was seeing the leading lady of a story he never knew he was meant to be a part of.
Months later, when they were tangled up in sheets,  drifting off to sleep in his old apartment, he’d whisper in her ear the day he found her. About the first time he saw her, how she looked in that dress, how the sun caught in her hair and made everything feel warm and bright, just for a second. And Honey would smile and love it, because she always loved him, she tells him—she’d close her eyes, let out a soft laugh, and he’d tell her how he’d walked in, still in that wrinkled white shirt from the plane, and how the rest of the room disappeared as she came into view. She’d smile and slowly run a finger down the slope of his nose as he spoke, like she could see it all happening again, and for those moments, Dieter could pretend it was enough to hold on to.
Now, though, Dieter couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever find another moment like that. Or worse—if he already had, and that was it for him. He wondered if he’d feel that rush again, that movie magic. And if he did, would it feel like the first time he’d seen Honey in that damn red dress? Would he tell the story the same way, with the same stupid grin on his face, and pretend it was something new?
God, he hoped not. Because no matter how hard he tried, Dieter couldn’t let go of that first time and he doesn’t seem to want to let go of it all. The way she made him feel like maybe he was someone worth seeing, someone worth noticing in a sea of people who’d never quite looked at him that way before. Even now, when the spotlight was finally his, when he’d gotten everything he thought he wanted, Dieter knew that nothing would ever quite measure up to the way she’d looked at him that day. Honey, the girl in the red dress, the one who saw him before anyone else ever did.
He hated that he couldn’t rewrite that scene, couldn’t replace it no matter how many times he tried. And as much as he wanted to move on, to find something and someone else that felt just as good, Dieter knew that part of him would always be standing in that backyard, watching her smile, wishing he could step into that frame now and relive it all over again.
Dieter sprawled across the leather couch in his spacious Sherman Oaks home, staring at the ceiling as the late morning sun streamed through the oversized windows. The house was too big for one person, filled with all the trappings of success: expensive art on the walls, designer furniture he barely noticed, and a backyard pool that sparkled under the California sun. It was the kind of place meant for a family—big, open spaces perfect for kids, a kitchen begging for Sunday breakfasts, and bedrooms waiting to be filled. But it was just Dieter, alone, scrolling through his phone in an old green bathrobe that had seen better days, a coffee-stained t-shirt, and a pair of mismatched Crocs.
His thumb moved aimlessly over the screen, flipping through the usual parade of celebrity posts, promotions, and glamorous snapshots that made up his feed. His own account was filled with a mix of movie promotions, behind-the-scenes selfies, and the occasional controversial photo of him in his latest ridiculous outfit—a ratty fur coat or nothing at all, surrounded by people he’d barely remember the next day. Lately, it seemed like every headline had his name attached to some new scandal: the models, actors, and random flings who drifted in and out of his life like a revolving door, both men and women, sometimes all at once. It was the kind of attention he used to crave, but now it just felt empty.
Then, as if the universe was playing some cruel joke, his thumb froze on a picture that pulled him out of his haze. It was Honey.
She was standing in front of the Griffith Observatory, LA sprawling in soft, golden hues behind her. She was dressed simply, not in red but in a vibrant green dress that reminded him of summer, carefree and effortless. Honey’s smile was wide, the kind of smile that lit up her whole face, and she looked like she belonged there, even though she’d always been a small-town girl at heart. The caption was short, just an emoji and “LA for the weekend!” but to Dieter, it was like a punch to the gut.
She was here. In his city. And she looked happy.
He couldn’t help but tap on her profile, scrolling back through her recent posts. There were pictures of her at events, hanging out with friends he didn’t recognize, and singing at small, intimate bars where the lights were dim and the crowd was close. Honey was always singing—it was her secret dream, something she’d only ever joked about back when they were together, curled up on his old porch. She’d never taken it seriously, but now it seemed like she was finally letting herself have that spotlight, even if it was just a small one.
His scrolling slowed when he noticed something new—a link to another account tagged in her bio: “@TraceMarketing.” Dieter tapped it, curiosity gnawing at him. It was a business page, polished and professional, showcasing her new venture: a boutique digital marketing and PR business. Posts highlighted her clients’ successes, photos of Honey at meetings, and little motivational quotes sprinkled between updates. It looked like she’d traded her teaching job for something entirely different, something bigger. The realization hit him: Honey had moved on from more than just their old life. She’d moved on from the safe, predictable path she’d once clung to, and Dieter was suddenly painfully aware of how much time had passed, how much had changed.
As he scrolled through her business page, flashes of old conversations flickered in his mind.
* flashback *
It was a warm summer evening, the kind where the sun hung low in the sky, casting everything in a golden glow. Dieter was sitting on his porch steps, strumming his beat-up guitar, his fingers lazily picking out the chords to “Let It Be Me.” Honey was sitting next to him, leaning against the railing, her eyes half-closed as she hummed along.
“You know,” she said, opening her eyes and looking at him with a playful smile, “you could be famous one day. I can see it now—Dieter Bravo, Hollywood’s leading man. You’d have to beat the girls off with a stick.”
Dieter laughed, shaking his head. “I’d settle for landing a decent role in a local commercial at this point. Maybe a toothpaste ad,” he joked, strumming the next chord. “And what about you, huh? You’ve got a voice that could fill stadiums. You ever think about making it big?”
Honey rolled her eyes, nudging him with her shoulder. “Yeah, sure. I’ll just quit my job, move to LA, and become the next pop sensation. I’m sure the kids in my class would love that. ‘Miss Honey’s off chasing her wild dreams,’” she mimicked, laughing softly. “No, I think I’ll stick to singing for you and the cats that wander by.”
Dieter looked at her, his smile fading into something softer, more serious. “You could do it, you know. You could do anything.”eyes. “Maybe. But some things are better left as dreams for some people, unlike yo
She shrugged, but there was a wistful look in her u–” She poked at his chest and he chuckled. 
“You, Mr. Bravo are meant to make it big.” She tells him and he shakes his head, smiling like he doesn’t believe her and part of him really doesn’t.
* end of flashback *
Back in the present, Dieter shook his head, pulling himself from the memory. Honey had changed. She was no longer just the sweet schoolteacher from their hometown; she’d built something for herself. He wondered what had finally pushed her to leave, to take that leap she’d always laughed off. He wondered if she’d found what she was looking for, or if she was still chasing that dream, one client at a time.
His thoughts drifted back to the way Honey used to be with him—gentle, caring, and always ready with a home-cooked meal after a long, exhausting day. Back when he was still trying to find his footing as an actor, driving hours to perform in a rundown theater a few towns over, she’d always be there when he got home. She’d greet him at the door, the smell of something warm and comforting drifting from the kitchen. Honey was his sanctuary, the one constant in a life that felt like it was always on the edge of falling apart.
* flashback *
Dieter dragged himself through the front door, dropping his worn-out bag by the entrance. His feet ached from hours of standing on stage, and his mind was still buzzing with lines, cues, and the lingering sting of a director’s harsh critique. He felt like a failure, but then he caught the scent of garlic and herbs, and the tension in his shoulders eased just a little.
Honey popped her head out of the kitchen, her apron dusted with flour. “You’re home! I made your favorite—lasagna and garlic bread. Thought you could use a little comfort food.”
Dieter managed a tired smile, his heart swelling at the sight of her. “You’re the best, you know that?”
She grinned, wiping her hands on a towel as she crossed the room to hug him. “I know. And you’re not too bad yourself. Go sit, dinner’s almost ready.”
They ate on the couch, Honey curled up beside him, her feet tucked under his thigh. They talked about his day, her students, and all the little things that made up their world. When he’d vent about his struggles—the endless auditions, the rejection, the feeling that he was running out of time—she’d just listen, offering quiet reassurances and gentle touches that told him he wasn’t alone.
And later, when the lights were low and they’d drift into bed, the connection between them was electric, intimate in a way Dieter had never known before. They’d move together slowly, unhurried, like they had all the time in the world. Honey would trace her fingers over his skin, whispering little affirmations that he clung to like lifelines. It was the kind of intimacy that made him feel seen, loved, and enough.
* end of flashback *
Dieter blinked, shaking off the memories that clung to him like a fog. He picked up his phone again, staring at Honey’s smiling face on the screen. His life now was filled with parties, late-night escapades, and a string of relationships that never seemed to stick. He was the subject of constant tabloid fodder, a walking scandal wrapped in designer clothes and bad decisions. People saw Dieter Bravo, the star, the partier, the man who had everything—but none of them saw the guy who once dreamed of a quiet life with the girl in the red dress.
The house he’d bought in Sherman Oaks was supposed to be a fresh start, a perfect family home with a backyard big enough for kids to run around in and a kitchen that felt like the heart of the house. But it was just him, rattling around the empty rooms, filling the silence with distractions. Sometimes, Dieter would catch himself imagining Honey there—her laugh echoing down the hallway, her shoes by the door, her favorite coffee mug on the counter. He wanted that life, even if he didn’t know how to keep it.
He scrolled through Honey’s profile one last time before setting his phone down, the weight of it all pressing heavy on his chest. She’d moved on, built something new, and all he had were the memories of a life that felt like it belonged to someone else. Dieter sighed, staring out at the LA skyline, wondering if he’d ever find his way back to something that felt like home.
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baileypie-writes · 8 months
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shouko + protective reader? shouya’s middle school bullying era, he’s doing all that shit cause he thinks he’s cool. reader jumps in and genuinely bodies him verbally, asking why he even does any of it, wanting to protect her best friend.
honestly forgot about a silent voice for a while 😭 one of my favorite anime movies though. love your writing.
A/N ~ Sure! And thank you for liking my writing🩷Hope you enjoy!
~Where did Your Mother go Wrong Raising You?~
Shouko Nishimiya + Fem!Protective!Reader
Part 2, Part 3
Fandom: A Silent Voice
Reader: Female
Relationship: Platonic
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Synopsis: You’re tired of Shoya bullying your best friend, so you chew him out.
Warnings: Bullying, swearing, mention of blood(Shouko’s).
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eight.
Eight goddamn hearing aids.
Who did this Shoya boy think he was? Bullying a deaf girl, and destroying her hearing aids? And not only that, no one defended her besides you. While the little devil committed his sins, your classmates just laughed along with him. What kind of class is this? Was no one a decent person?
You were more than tired. You were just about ready to destroy this kid. All you needed was an opportunity. Lucky for you, one came.
~~~~
The entire class waited for the teacher to arrive. He was taking his sweet time, so most students were messing around. But not you. You could never have a moment of peace during school. Nearly every second was spent monitoring Shoya, making sure he didn’t try anything.
You glanced over at Shouko. You smiled, as she looked peaceful. She was wearing her shiny new hearing aids. But your smile faded as you caught a glimpse of the scar on her ear. She got that when Shoya ripped her last hearing aids out, causing her to bleed. Just the memory made you feel angry.
Shouko noticed you staring, and lightly smiled at you. “Something wrong?” She signed over to you.
“No. Just looking at your new hearing aid.” You signed back.
“What are you guys talking about?” Shoya interrupted. You groaned, not wanting to deal with him.
“Nothing you need to care about.” You said, a thick attitude in your voice.
“Woah, calm down. I just think it’s a little unfair that you guys are having your own secret conversation.” He said, crossing his arms.
You huffed. “Well, it wouldn’t be secret if you bothered to learn sign language. You can’t just complain about not understanding something when you’re too lazy to learn it.”
Shouko looked confused. “What are you talking about?” She signed. But you didn’t have the chance to answer.
“Who’re you calling lazy? You know what, I don’t care. Why would I listen to someone who’s so desperate for friends, that she hangs out with the freak?” He says as he walks over to Shouko. He reaches over to, once again, take her hearing aids, his friends laughing in the background.
That was it. You shot up from your seat, and grabbed Shoya’s wrist. “Shouko is not the freak! You are! You’re so close minded, that you can’t handle the simple fact that someone can’t hear. I mean, honestly, it’s not that complicated. But I guess you can’t handle complicated things. Hell, you can’t even keep the tag inside your shirt.” You pointed to the fabric sticking out of his top.
The class laughed, including Shoya’s friends. He didn’t like that. He yanked his wrist away, and made another attempt to steal Shouko’s hearing aids. But you were quick, and shoved him away. You got in front of poor, confused Shouko, guarding her.
“Why do you even do it? Do you take pleasure in seeing others suffer? What the fuck is wrong with you? Where did your mother go wrong raising you?” Shoya froze at the mention of his mom. You knew that was his weakness, so you kept going.
“I’ve met your mom. She cuts my hair, and she’s the sweetest woman I’ve ever met. How in the world did her son turn out to be the spawn of Satan himself? I bet she doesn’t even know. What would you think if I went over to your house after school, and told her all you’ve done? I’m sure she’ll be very upset with you. And hey, if she doesn’t beat your ass, I’ll gladly do it.” You finally finished. And just in time too, because the teacher finally arrived.
“What’s going on?” He asked, noticing the silence in the room.
“Nothing, Mr. Takeuchi.” Shoya mumbled, making you grin.
Everyone went to their seats, and Mr. Takeuchi began class. You still kept an eye on Shoya, but he didn’t seem to be planning anything. At least for today.
Suddenly, Shouko waved your attention to her. She had a small smile on her face as she signed “Thanks.”
You smiled too, and signed back to her. “No problem. I’m always here for you.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~baileypie-writes
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quillsareswords · 2 years
Note
Ok but now we need Damian in a ghostface mask content 😩
DAMIAN WAYNE X READER
WARNINGS: suggestive, language
MASTER LIST in BIO
It's one of your favorite movies. You've rewatched the first one three times this month. At least three, anyway. There's a decent chance you've had it running in the background when he wasn't around.
That's to say: he recognizes the mask as soon as he sees it. Hanging there on a peg wall, among dozens of others in various colors with extra features, he picks it out immediately. Shiny white plastic, cheap black fabric.
"Don't kill me Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel!"
How many times have you sang along to that line? How many times have you thrown it into everyday life to get a laugh out of him?
Mari is cheering further up the isle, apparently having found a mask she likes. Todd is laughing, so he'd better go investigate. God help him if it's something Jason is laughing at.
He grabs the first one in the row and tucks it under his arm.
(Of course Mari Grayson would pick out the most ghoulish latex gargoyle mask she could find.)
You get to his place later than usual due some accident on the subway track you didn't pay much attention to. You zoned out after you heard non-fatal. Your shoes get pried off and left by the door, you jacket abandoned over the back of the couch with your backpack.
"Damian?" you call, raking a hand through your hair on the way to the kitchen. "Are you home yet?"
No response. You lug the refrigerator door open. "Guess not." Let's see...grapes, guacamole, apples, caramel dip, tofu stir fry from last night...
You grab the guacamole dish. Where does he keep the chips, again? Same cabinet as the bread, right?
You close the refrigerator door, and there's a black shadow inches from your face. "Surprise, Sidney."
A scream rips out of your throat as you stumble sideways, hurling the plastic Tupperware with everything you've got.
In one motion, Damian yanks the mask off and narrowly ducks out of the way. The shit-eating grin whitening his teeth melts a little when he turns at the horrific sound behind him.
His poor guacamole, splattered against the wall like a gory scene straight out of a horror movie, and the plastic container rolling pathetically on the floor, cracked in three places.
He turns back toward you, leaning all your weight against the counter with your face in your hands. "I think you almost killed me with a bowl of guacamole."
The fingers on your left hand inch apart to reveal your glare. "You're such a dick."
He's grinning again. "I thought you liked Ghostface."
You drop your hands and cross your arms to scowl at him. "I do like Ghostface. I live Ghostface. If Ghostface asked me to marry him, I'd leave you in a heartbeat."
He chuckles, deep in his chest, and moves forward. "Oh, come on. I'm sorry, Beloved. I couldn't resist." He opens his arms before he's reached you, just in case you really are angry with him and decide to stop him.
You don't. You let him step into your space, rubbing his warm palms up and down your arms, mask abandoned on the counter behind you. "Well maybe I just won't be able to resist dying all your fancy white shirts bright pink." You glance down at the one he's wearing now for emphasis, but it's not a nice white one. It's the black t-shirt he yanked on this morning to wear under that nice new jacket. The one that hugs his torso about as tightly as you do when he leaves for patrol.
His grin fades into a much kinder smile. "Orange. I'll wear them for Halloween."
Your glare is wavering the longer he looks at you. You hum noncommittally. "I'm trying to say that you've got a lot of grovelling to do, Mr. Ghostface."
He leans a little closer. "Oh? What kind of grovelling do you have in mind, Dearest?"
You hum again, drawn out and low to stall while your hand reaches awkwardly backwards. Your fingers brush cheap fabric. "I don't know about you, but I'm thinking Morticia and Gomez Addams kind of grovelling," you pause, lifting the mask between you to hold it in front of his face, "but you put this back on first."
Kind smile becomes devious as you lower it again to gauge his reaction. His eyes spark as green as fresh moss, cradling the growing black of his pupils like gemstones. "Well, if that's what it takes to earn forgiveness..." He takes the mask from you gently and slides it on. "Whatever you wish, Cara Mia."
The door bell chimes.
Crisp and loud.
Ignore it, is on the tip of your tongue, but it dies when you hear your phone buzz with what is undoubtedly an I'm here text message. You sigh. You'd completely forgotten about offering to loan your friend some clothes for her Halloween costume.
He goes still in front of you, one hand once again pressing into your bicep, the other planted on the counter beside you. Immediately, he's debating whether or not to leave whoever it is standing in the hall and make up some excuse later. But then...
"I'm going to answer the door like this."
You look again to his tight shirt, black jeans, mask. Doesn't matter who is at the door, this image of Damian is all yours. "No the fuck you aren't."
There's immediate jealousy in your tone, a knee-jerk reaction. It must be somebody you know.
Even better.
"Yes, the fuck I am."
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dadonbabysworld · 2 years
Text
Skz Pack: Bad First Impression
Author's Note: Nothing much this time. All feedback is welcome.
Genre: fluff and angst
Warnings: Mention of bad parents, descriptions of shaking from fear, jealousy, one hit with a spoon
Word Count: 2,058
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You and Jeongin were laying in bed when he got a call from one of his Hyung’s. He sat up a little to talk, allowing you to rest your head on his lap.
“Yes Minho-hyung?” He asks. You could hear every other word. ‘Bring…the..home.’ Bring what home? Also Minho… that’s Chan’s moonmate. Did Chan need something from Jeongin?
You just sat there confused as Jeongin continued to talk. “No, I can't do that because it is too early.”
After another five minutes of back and forth, Jeongin turns towards you. “Jagiya?” He asks softly.
“Hmm?” You answer by looking up from your own phone which was on Pokemon Go. “Minho-hyung wants to meet you today.” You freeze a little. Your introduction to Chan still had you a little shook. You didn’t expect to be so whipped by him damn near immediately. Could you handle meeting another pack member so soon?
“Oh um.. What does he want to do together?” You ask unsure if you can commit to anything. There is some back and forth before Jeongin looks at you. 
“Did you want to cook with him and another member of our pack? They are making dinner and dessert in an hour or so.” You look up at the ceiling. What could go wrong?
“Sure. Is it okay if I cook with them instead of us watching a movie?” You check with him. “Yeah sure. I’ll just go to the library to study. I can take you to our place.”
“Okay thank you.” You both get ready to head outside. Jeongin drives you to their home and kisses you goodbye as you exit the car. You go to the front door and take a deep breath. They aren’t monsters; they are regular people. They won’t hurt you. You knock on the door, finally having found the courage to do so.
A man wearing a headband with ears answers the door. He had brown hair, but you could tell it was dyed beforehand. His facial expression was very serious as he waved at Jeongin. Jeongin finally drove off knowing that you would be safe with his pack mates. After leading you inside, the mystery man sits you at the table across from another man. 
“I’m Minho and this is Felix.” Felix had blonde hair similar to Chan’s. Most people in this household had light hair apparently. They both wore sweatshirts and pajama bottoms with slippers. Minho had no jewelry on at all, but Felix had on some silver rings. 
“Was I supposed to wear my pajamas?” You questioned feeling a little less included. It wasn’t intentional obviously; they probably just happened to be cold and wore similar things. Also, you didn’t own many sweatshirts, so you would have had to wear a high school one.
“No, it is fine. We bought you some things to wear too” That is how you ended up in a sweatshirt and matching pajama bottoms just like the two men. Felix smiles as you return “You look great.”
“Thank you… are we cooking something big or small?” You ask kindly. You were not a chef in any way, so this would be an experience for you.
“Oh it’s okay you can just watch. We really just wanted to know about you. Jeongin and Chan seem fond of you.” Minho clarifies as he gets some ingredients from the cabinet.
“Oh? Chan has mentioned me?” 
“For sure! He said you were nice but very shy. We waited some time before seeing you solely to make sure you didn’t feel like you were meeting us all back to back.” Felix chirps. He is chipper; he is prepping some kind of meat.
“Thank you for giving me such a grace period. I am very nervous as I’m sure Jeongin told you guys. I just don’t want to make a bad first impression.” You explained, playing with your fingers as you looked at Minho.
He hummed before looking at you. “I think you’re overthinking it. Don’t worry. We won’t eat you. Unless you want to be eaten.” He places a hand on your shoulder temporarily before going back to the counter. 
As cooking ensues, you fade into the background taking on minor roles Minho asks you to do. While Felix keeps an eye on you from a distance, you are guided by Minho on how to do certain tasks.
“I didn’t grow up being in the kitchen with my parents. I feel bad for needing so much assistance. I appreciate it though. Hopefully, I can prepare a meal alone for you guys.” 
Minho smiles and nods. “It would take some weight off mine and Chan’s shoulders considering we handle all those responsibilities alone.”
You felt a little at ease with Minho, but he still held a lot of power around here. As well as, his natural aura just gave off serious and dangerous. Felix hasn’t said much, so you still felt very tense around him. 
“Is Jeongin being considerate towards you? He isn’t causing any trouble right?” Minho’s questions make you laugh. “He is being very considerate. Jeongin is so sweet. You guys have raised a nice pup.” You jokingly respond. 
“So he’s touchy with you or is he distant? Jeongin isn’t that affectionate with us.”
“He is affectionate and likes to cuddle, but I don’t know if that’s just him being nice towards me.” Minho raises an eyebrow. 
“So you’re very affectionate?”
“According to Jeongin, he and Chan think I am touched starved. They think getting me used to regular affection will help.”
“That’s useful to know for us. We can give you the right kind of affection. So physical touch is big for you. I hope we can all honor that well. I am not necessarily touchy so..” 
You laugh at him not finishing the sentence. Minho seems so considerate. It doesn’t bother you that you probably won’t get much affection from him. Hopefully, he just accepts your presence first.
You are helping Minho very efficiently, in your opinion when the topic of your childhood comes into play. “So are your parents both also wolves?” You kind of freeze at the thought of your parents before nodding. “They are indeed. My dad was a beta and my mother an omega. She always wanted an alpha though and made it all of our problems. She wanted me to settle down with a nice alpha.”
“Not her living through you. Parents are really something else. I’m glad you have Jeongin though. He indeed is a nice alpha. I’m assuming you’ve had your fair share of bad alpha’s.”
You nod as you try to continue stirring the bowl Minho had given you, but your hands were shaking so badly. You could feel the air from that night. The adrenaline as you ran for your life from the scariest wolf you’ve ever seen in your life.
You end up dropping the bowl off the counter by accident and give an immediate apology as you use your shaky hands to attempt to clean it up on all fours. Minho takes your hands as he squats next to you. “It’s okay.. I’m sorry to have triggered such bad memories for you.” 
You were confused as the night went on. You get to know Minho a little, and he’s very nice to you. However, Felix hasn’t said much still even after dinner is done. Minho decided to take some time to clean up a little in their dining room while you and Felix prepare dessert.
“We are really trying to incorporate you into our household because your Jeongin’s mate. He deserves to be happy, but it’s not like we are going to be all buddy buddy like.” Felix explains to you softly, like he was saying something considerate, as he mixes together ingredients for what looks like cookies.
You kinda deflate a little, the shine leaving your eyes. He doesn’t want to do this just to know you. I mean these are Jeongin’s friends. You should have expected them to still be only Jeongin’s friends. The friend’s of your partner are not always your own friends. 
You assist him as he asks and afterwards you grab your things to leave. Minho asks, “Are you sure you can’t join us for dinner considering you helped make it?” You reply with a simple nod and bow before leaving. You start walking home in the cold and dark given that it is too late to ask Jeongin for a ride considering you left already, and you no longer feel comfortable asking any of his packmates.
The feeling of sadness washes over you as you walk in the wintery air. Luckily, it was winter, so you could play off crying as just tears from the wind. You thought you had possibly found a new family, a place to call your own. After feeling less than accepted by Felix, you crawled into a hole again. Could you ever face them again? You are feeling guilty for even wanting to join their pack.
Once arriving home, you took a long shower and prepared for bed. Jeongin texts you afterwards asking ‘Are you okay? You could have asked me to take you home.’ You don't feel the best mentally, so you simply ignore it and go to bed. The next morning you wake up to the sound of pounding on your door. 
Feeling groggy you get out of bed and head to the door, you croak out a “who is it?” as you look out the peep hole to see Jeongin. “It’s me!” He practically yells. You slowly open the door and by the look on his face he is angry. “Come in.” Before you can even finish, he comes inside and looks at you before sighing. 
You close the door before moving towards the kitchen, not sure what to say. He follows you standing in front of the fridge you were just about to open. “I was worried sick about my poor girlfriend who just chose to not answer my text like she couldn’t be kidnapped, sick, or hurt.” You feel a ping of guilt because you forgot someone actually cares about you, especially after last night.
“I’m sorry Jeongin. I wasn’t in the mood to talk, and I did not consider how it would affect you by not responding.” You look into his eyes before looking down. You can’t hold eye contact for long; he deserves to be mad. He hugs you tightly before resting his head on your shoulder. “Don’t do that again, please?” You quickly nod and hug back.
You haven’t even cleaned yourself up yet or eaten. Jeongin still looks at you as if you are the prettiest girl in the world. You smile as he kisses your cheek and asks how it went last night.
“It was fine. Did you want breakfast?” 
“You’re sure? Also, breakfast sounds great. We can make it together.”
“Yes, I'm sure. It wasn’t naturally buddy buddy, but we will all come to terms sooner or later.” You grab the things out of your fridge. Unknown to you, Jeongin didn’t feel the best about that answer. They better get buddy-like with you quickly or face his wrath.
Throwing on his grandma voice, he begins to cook. “They better get with or i’m gonna hit them.”
“Oh? I’m so sorry grandma. I will be sure to tell them that.” You respond between laughs. He hits you with a wooden spoon. “I’m serious! I will tell them there's no need for you to do it.” 
You smile and rub your arm. “You are lucky I love you. I could hit you back.”
“Look at you! These young children are so violent these days. I have to teach you all a lesson. Young whipper snappers.” He does the slouch as well. You are laughing so hard tears fill your eyes. Jeongin was glad you were happier now.
You both go on to make a beautiful breakfast for you both. Uploading pictures and selfies to your Instagram for fun. It was starting to be a good day for you two. You were trying to ignore the feeling lingering over you that you wouldn’t be accepted into the pack. Yet, Jeongin could tell by the slight change in your scent that something was bothering you, and he was determined to figure out what happened last night.
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