#the most surreal phone call of my life | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

headkiss · 1 year ago

Text

you’ll always know me

part 1, part 2

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: even as the crowds at his shows get bigger and bigger, eddie munson still has you, his very best friend. or, (for my swifties) eddie munson is your dorothea.

word count: 8.6k

warnings: fluff, a little angst, childhood best friends to lovers (sort of), weed and smoking, librarian!reader, first kiss, so many uses of the words “i miss you,” and some idiots in love !!!

a/n: hiiiii!!! this one took so long but i really love rockstar!eddie and i hope you do too!!! this is inspired by tis the damn season and especially dorothea by taylor swift <3 thank you to my love @inkluvs for encouraging me on this one ily!!!

♫♩♪♬

It’s surreal to watch someone close to you grow so much bigger than the town you live in.

To know that the person you see on the news, at award shows on your TV screen, is the same one who used to push you on the swings at the playground, who used to walk with you to and from school, who grew up beside you, closer than anyone else ever could have.

Closer than anyone ever would, still.

To most people, he’s Eddie Munson, lead singer and guitarist of Corroded Coffin. To you, he’s Eddie, the best friend you’ve ever had.

You can go back years and years, and Eddie’s woven into your life for so much of it. So is his music. You can pick out the points: watching Corroded Coffin play for the first time in middle school, watching their first gig at the Hideout, being in the front row for it all wearing the widest smile, having the loudest cheers.

Even the late night phone calls you’d get when he’d be stuck on lyrics, when he wanted someone’s opinion and chose to dial your number instead of his bandmates’.

(“Hello?”

“I can’t get this line to sound right.”

“Let’s hear it, Munson.”)

You’re often in disbelief of where he is now. Not because you ever doubted him, but because even after so long, it’s strange not to see him every day. You’re insanely proud of him, but that doesn’t mean you don’t miss him.

Because you do. You miss him so much.

A box sits on the top shelf of your closet, one filled with newspaper and magazine clippings, articles about the band’s success, positive reviews about their shows and their albums. Things to show that Eddie’s dream came true, and that’s a rare thing.

There’s only one kind of tabloid you choose not to keep: the ones booming with rumors you selfishly hope aren’t true.

‘Lead singer of Corroded Coffin has a new spark? Read more to find out who’s caught famous bad boy Eddie Munson’s eye.’

You see him constantly in pictures, through a screen, but you only really ever see him on holidays, when he’s able to come home. When he comes bursting back into your life in vibrant fireworks with his stupid, pretty smile and stupid, shining brown eyes. When he comes back only to leave all over again.

You only have yourself to blame, really, for letting it tear you up. Because more than anything, you’re happy for him, so happy you could never express it properly, but still, there’s an ache in you when he crosses your mind, when the feelings linger.

Life in Hawkins for you consists of working at the library, reading your days and thoughts away, hanging out with the gang when you’re up to it, and that’s about it.

Eddie always knows where to find you when he does come home, usually barging into the library with his arms open for a hug, one you rush into easily. You always spend the couple days he has in Hawkins together, being the you and him you’ve been since you were kids. But the lingering reminder doesn’t fade, the reminder of him having to leave looming over you like a storm cloud.

Eddie Munson comes home sporadically, unknowingly taking your heart with him wherever he goes. And when his inevitable departure takes place, you’re forced to regrow what’s missing from your chest. Every single time.

Besides his uncle Wayne, who could only ever see him as a troublemaking kid, you’re the only person who’s never treated Eddie any differently.

Not in high school when he was labeled a freak, not even when the fame rose so suddenly it felt like a tidal wave. You kept him afloat. You keep him afloat.

He knows he should call more often, he knows that even if the phone works both ways, you really don’t have a way of keeping track of which hotel he’s in, which state, which country, even. He knows that falls on him.

Your phone number’s burned into Eddie’s memory. He could never forget it, and still, he can’t seem to find the time to dial it. He’ll get called away, or he’ll just be getting back from a show and barely have the energy to shower before getting in bed. Worse, he’ll get the panicked sense that you won’t pick up anymore.

At least he’s never missed your birthday. That, he’ll always make time for, usually phoning you at the same time that a bouquet of flowers arrives at your door. And somehow, even when he’s away, you don’t miss his birthday, either.

Eddie’s sitting on the small couch in his dressing room, waiting to go on stage, thinking of you the way he often does.

He wonders if you think of him, too. If you miss him or if you’re angry that he’s gone so often, that he can barely even manage a fucking phone call. Though, you were never the type to be angry. Never with him, at least.

He wants to hear your voice, wants to hear you tell him ‘good luck’ before going on stage like you used to. He peeks at the table next to the couch. Eddie’s not sure how much time he has before he needs to go, but he figures it’s worth a try.

Just as he’s about to pick up the phone in his dressing room, there’s a knock on the door.

“Munson! You’re on in five!”

He’ll call you later, then.

“Beginning descent to the Indianapolis International Airport.”

The muffled sound through the airplane’s speakers is followed by the ding of the seatbelt signs being turned on. Eddie shifts in his seat to look out the window. He’s got his own little cubicle in first class, and though this is how he always flies now (other than when he finds himself on a private jet, which is even more unbelievable), he’s still not used to it.

He’s itching to get out of this seat, then he remembers that he’s still got the trek through the airport and the drive back to Hawkins. It’ll be worth it to see Wayne, who he doesn’t see nearly as often as he should, and get his classic hug with a slap on his shoulder.

It’ll be worth it to see you, who makes Hawkins feel more like home. You, who reminds him of the person he’s always been, the parts that get lost on the road. You, who hugs him tighter than anyone else ever has.

His hands clench into fits in his lap.

As soon as Eddie steps off the plane, his security team finds him. He’d assured them that he’d be fine, really, but this is how it is for him now. Through baggage claim and all the way to the car that’s waiting for him outside, security takes a step whenever he does.

Shutting the car door as he slides into the backseat, Eddie tips his head back and sighs.

The car ride feels shorter than usual, the city fading into trees and fields until the ‘Welcome to Hawkins’ sign comes into view. The gravel crunches under the car’s tires as it pulls into the trailer park. Wayne’s got enough to get a better place now, Eddie made sure of it, but he never did. He’d never admit it but Wayne’s sentimental, and the trailer houses too many memories to let go of it.

After all, it was home.

Stepping through the front door there’s the smell that he’d never noticed until he’d been gone for weeks at a time. The settled dust, the faint smoke of cigarettes, coffee, and the room spray Wayne inevitably uses to try and cover it all up.

Eddie drags his bags inside, waves to his driver, and shuts the door behind him.

Then, Wayne’s warm rasp, “my boy. Get in okay?”

He’s wrapped in his uncle’s classic hug quickly, the pats on his shoulder and all. Eddie closes his eyes and soaks it in, just for a second, “yeah. It was fine.”

“Good, good,” Wayne says, pulling back and grasping Eddie’s shoulders, getting a good look at him. “Take a shower.”

“Is that your way of telling me I look like shit?”

“Nah, that’s me telling you that you smell like airport, boy.”

“It’s great to see you, too,” Eddie says, smiling.

He and Wayne have the kind of relationship that time doesn’t really affect all that much. Whether Eddie’s away for a week or a month, or two, or three, they fall back into things like he’d never even left.

He knows Wayne’s probably lonely, probably hiding more than he could imagine, but he also knows that he loves him, and that’s always a good thing to know, to feel. Loved.

“Shut up, you know I missed you,” Wayne shakes Eddie’s shoulders and lets go, “now go wash up and you can tell me about your last show over some coffee, sound good?”

“Sounds good. I missed you too, Wayne.”

Eddie carries his bags into his room, leaving them open on the ground rather than unpacking. He’ll just have to pack them all over again, anyways.

Before long, the trailer’s small bathroom is filling with steam as Eddie steps into the shower, dropping his neck back and letting the water run over his shoulders, his back. He stands like that for a bit, simply letting the heat melt away at the tension in his muscles.

By the time he steps out, the mirror is completely fogged with steam, and Eddie wipes away at a section to look at himself. The bags under his eyes, the mess of his hair that he doesn’t bother taming, the small scratch on his chin from one of his rings. He shakes his head and heads into his room with his towel around his waist.

He throws on a pair of plaid pajama pants and a faded band tee, his hair soaking the back of it drop by drop.

In the kitchen, Wayne’s got two mugs of coffee sitting on the small table, a seat already pulled out for Eddie to take.

“Thanks.”

He nods, sipping from his mug as Eddie does the same.

In the silence, he can’t help but think of you, of how close he is to you now. Mere minutes away. He wonders what you’re doing, if you’re reading in bed after your shift, if you’d just showered like him, if you’re thinking of him, too.

“I saw her the other day,” Wayne says.

They both know he means you.

“How’s she doing?”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll ask her that when you see her tomorrow, but she seemed good.”

“How'd you know I’m gonna see her tomorrow?”

“Come on, kid. You go to the library the day after you get in every time and think I don’t notice?”

Eddie looks down at the mug in his hands, his face warm. It shouldn’t matter, shouldn’t have him feeling all shy and nervous, like he’d been caught, but it does.

“She misses you,” Wayne adds.

“She tell you that?”

“Doesn’t have to. I’ve known that girl since she was little and running after you on the playground. I can tell.”

Wayne has always said that you’re as good as family, after all. Eddie used to joke that his uncle liked you more than him, and you used to laugh and joke back that he was right.

Eddie’s suddenly very excited to sleep, only to get to tomorrow quicker.

“I miss her, too.”

“Yeah, kid. I know,” Wayne leaves it there, switching things over, “I saw you almost eat shit on TV the other day.”

“Come on!” Eddie groans. He’d tripped over a fucking wire on stage. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“It was still fuckin’ funny.”

“Of all the shows, you just had to tune in for that one.”

Wayne asks about the tour, about how Eddie’s liking it this time around, about whether or not there’s anything new he’s working on.

In return, Eddie asks about the mechanic’s, about whether or not Wayne’s back has been acting up (which earns him a light slap on the back of the head), about what’s changed in Hawkins since the last time he’d been home.

Even through the smiles he shares with his uncle, Eddie’s wondering how you’ll react when you see him tomorrow, picturing how it’ll feel to be near you again. He gets that feeling in his gut, the butterflies that are nerves and excitement and questions and feelings rolled into one.

He’s pretty sure he dreams about you, too.

Your shifts at the library are always long; full days of scanning and shelving books. You’re lucky to say that you actually like your job. The smell of worn pages, the peacefulness (save for when Dustin comes barging in with his stack of overdue books that you let him off the hook for every time), the interactions that are almost always short and sweet since it’s meant to be a quiet place.

Your eight or nine or however many hour days go by much quicker now than they did during your high school job at the grocery store, that’s for sure.

You’re pushing the put-back cart between shelves, humming a random song quietly as you place the books where they belong, sometimes pausing to straighten things out. It’s the middle of a weekday and you’re the only person in there anyway. That is, until the small bell on the front desk dings.

“Just a second!” You call, squeezing between the cart and the self beside it to walk over to the front desk. You think your heart stops altogether.

You’d recognize that head of hair anywhere, the dark, frizzy curls. Hell, you’d recognize that damn denim vest anywhere, even the stance of the person wearing it. “Eddie?”

He turns around at the sound of your voice, and something lifts from his chest when he sees you. A grin spreads wide on his face, splitting his cheeks and crinkling his eyes in the corners, “there she is.”

Usually, when he comes home, it’s on a holiday and you’re expecting him, watching the door and waiting for him to walk through it. This time, you had no idea he’d be coming home. It’s the best surprise you could get.

You’re practically running into his arms, and he wraps them around your waist easily, yours tossed around his shoulders. Your face is buried in his neck, breathing him in, making sure this is real. “What the hell are you doing here?”

His hands clutch at the fabric over your sides, his head twisting so he can place a kiss over your hair, “had a break from tour. Missed home.”

And sure, Eddie hadn’t really realized just how much he missed it until he came back, it’s crystal clear now, with you hugging him. He really, really missed home.

You want to say something stupid and emotional like it hasn’t felt as much like home until now, or I missed the sound of your voice and the smell of your shampoo, but that would probably reveal a little too much.

“Just home you missed or…” you tease, pulling back to look at his face, his brown eyes that sort of sparkle. Your hands stay on his shoulders, his on your waist.

“I missed Wayne, obviously,” Eddie replies, acting oblivious and smiling at the small furrow in your brow.

“Eddie!”

“Aw, come on.” He tugs you in for another hug, his cheek squished against the side of your head. “‘Course I missed you, trouble.”

Trouble. You never knew you could miss a single word so much.

Eddie started calling you ‘trouble’ when you were kids, sometime in middle school when you’d stolen a bunch of his mixtapes and only returned them weeks later, when he finally noticed. He’d snatched them out of your hands and muttered ‘you’re trouble’ and it just stuck.

“Thank you,” you say, laughing when Eddie pulls back frowning at you. “And I missed you, too. Duh.”

“Duh.” He mocks. He lets go of you fully but doesn’t go far, leaning an elbow against the desk, “you’re doing okay?”

“I’m good. Things don’t change all that much around here, you know that.”

“I’m not asking about around here, I’m asking ‘bout you.”

You tug at the hair tie on your wrist. “I’m fine, Eddie. Promise.”

He nods, and there’s a small lull in the conversation that pinches at your chest for some reason. The sort of silence that never used to be there when it came to you and Eddie, always filling it with conversation or letting it be comfortable. Now, there’s something like awkwardness stretching and it stings.

Because it shouldn’t be there, because he’s Eddie and you’re you and you’re best friends and that’s all there should be to it. But it isn’t. You’re the same people, but so much is different.

“You working late?” He asks.

“Until we close.”

“Care for some company?”

You tilt your head at him, “you really wanna hang around the library for the last four hours of my shift?”

“Sounds like fun to me. I’ll even push the cart for you, and you can tell me what I’ve missed while I was away.”

It’s funny that he thinks he’d ever have to convince you to spend time with him, when you’re practically pulling at any thread of him that you can, when you’re taking anything he has to give you. Two days, a week, a couple of phone calls.

It’s all better than not having him at all.

“Only if you tell me what I’ve missed, too. Like all the cool celebrities you’ve met.”

“Not as cool as you, trouble.” Eddie taps your nose, smiling at the way you scrunch it in response.

“Shut up and start pushing the cart, Munson.”

He stands straight and salutes, “yes ma’am.”

You’re still smiling when you shake your head, “idiot.”

Eddie really does spend the rest of the day with you, pushing the cart while you re-shelf books, sitting in the extra chair behind the counter while you file returns, ducking when someone else walks in.

He asks you about Robin and Steve, Dustin and Lucas, how the kids are finding school, whether Nancy’s been hired at a big paper yet. He asks you about your family, and most of all, about you.

He hangs onto every word you say. And not once do you say anything to make him feel bad for being away, if anything, you can’t stop telling him how proud you are, especially when he talks to you about what’s in the works.

“I always told you you’d make it, Munson.”

“Wouldn’t have done it without you, trouble.”

The next morning, you’re sitting across from him in the corner booth by the window at Benny’s for breakfast. The same way you did every Friday in high school, at the same table.

Whenever you wind up at Benny’s when Eddie’s away, you tend to avoid that booth. It’s pathetic. Like his absence is clearer than ever sitting there when he isn’t. When he’s not putting whipped cream on your nose or stealing food off your plate.

Now, it’s his presence that surrounds you, his smile and his laugh, his foot nudging yours under the table.

The menu is sticky under your fingertips where you hold it, faded from sunlight and discolored from coffee spills that stain the page. You don’t really need to be looking at it—after years of coming here, you’ve probably got the thing memorized—but you need the time to collect yourself. To remember that this is Eddie, and there’s nothing to be nervous about.

You need the time to stuff down that flutter in your gut and in your chest.

On the other side of the booth, Eddie takes your distraction as a chance to really look at you. The details he can’t seem to picture when he’s away like the flecks in your eyes or the exact shade of your lips.

He never realizes just how much he misses you until he’s home. Until he’s sitting across from you and listening to the sound of your voice clearly instead of through a crackling phone’s speaker, until he gets to see the way your eyes light up slightly when you laugh.

It sort of hits him all at once, and he’s thinking, God, I should call more often. I should visit more often.

After a couple of minutes, you look back at Eddie, “you know what you want?”

“I’ve been getting the same thing since high school, trouble. Don’t need the menu.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll go order,” you say, placing your menu back in the holder by the window.

When you start sliding your way out of the booth, Eddie places a hand over yours on the table, “I can get it.”

You look down at your hands, his skin on yours, like you’d expected to see something there. A spark, a burn scorching your skin in the best way.

“I know you can,” you say, smiling at him. “But it’s my treat, okay? I want to get it.”

Eddie always feels sort of guilty when he’s not buying, because he has more than enough money to take care of it, more than he knows what to do with. Sometimes (often), people expect him to pay, even. And just like you’d known how he was feeling, you shut it down with a flash of your smile.

You shift to squeeze his hand before getting up and heading over to the counter, leaning on your elbows as you wait your turn.

Still, Eddie’s looking at you, his hand in the same spot on the table.

He knows that, despite it not being a busy morning at Benny’s, people are looking at him, whispering the way they did even in school. Only now, they’re saying they can’t believe it, look at him now, instead of calling him a freak. And just like in school, having you around makes the talk bearable. Hell, it makes it disappear, if only for a little while.

When the waiter finally comes over to take your order, you send him a kind smile, rattling off yours and Eddie’s orders.

Eddie watches the entire interaction. He tells himself it’s because he doesn’t want to make eye contact with anyone else, that it’s because he’s just making sure you’re alright. It’s certainly not because of how pretty he thinks you look today, not because of how hard it is to keep his eyes off of you.

The waiter is a younger guy, probably around your age. Someone Eddie doesn’t know. He seems to tell you a joke because you laugh, bright and sunny, and Eddie suddenly wishes that Benny was the one taking orders.

Because he should be the one to make you laugh like that, to be on the receiving end of your grin and crinkled eyes. Because there’s this weight in his stomach that feels a little too much like jealousy. Because you’re his best friend and he fucking misses you.

Eddie looks down at his hands and twists his rings around and around until you come back, the old booth squeaking as you sit down.

“You okay?” You ask, always noticing his nervous habit of fiddling with his rings.

She’s my friend, he reminds himself. My best friend, that’s all.

“‘Course I am.”

“The guy at the counter, Dan, wanted me to tell you he’s a fan.”

He shakes his head, “I can't believe I have those. Especially in this town.”

“Excuse me? Your biggest fan is sitting right here, in this town, Munson.”

He probably thinks you’re joking with the way he chuckles, chest rumbling. But, you’re not. The shoebox full of clippings says enough, and you don’t think he’d ever let you live it down if he knew about it.

“She want an autograph?” He teases, the heaviness in his stomach melting away. Your biggest fan.

“In your chicken scratch? Yeah right.”

It’s not long before your food arrives, plates of waffles and fruit, sides of bacon and hashbrowns. Of course, you inevitably end up with whipped cream on your nose and food missing from your plate.

It’s your favorite kind of breakfast.

You’re sitting in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van—the same van he’s had since high school, that he refuses to replace—heading towards Steve’s place. It’s not unusual for either of you to be meeting up with the gang, but Eddie’s still nervous.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks you.

They don’t know he’s in town, and as sure as you are that they’ll be thrilled to see him, Eddie isn’t convinced. You place a hand on his shoulder and squeeze lightly as he drives.

“Everyone’s gonna be so happy to see you. Don’t you trust me?”

“‘Course I do,” he says easily, without thinking, “just haven’t seen anyone in a while, you know?”

“We all miss you, Eddie. It’ll be fun!”

Logically, he knows nobody’s gonna kick him out, or treat him any differently, but it doesn’t stop him from getting nervous. You wanted to surprise everyone, and how could he say no to you? So, here he is, gripping the steering wheel too tight and worrying too much.

Pulling into the driveway, he nods, “here we go.”

You hop out of the van before he has it shut off, but he catches up quickly. He follows you to the side gate of the house, watches you unlatch it and stroll into the yard. The sound of voices mingling hits his ears as you walk around the house and find your group of friends sitting around in lounge chairs.

“Look who I brought,” You announce.

Your shout is followed by eyes flicking towards you, then Eddie who stands beside you. Then, a chorus of his name, plus Argyle’s “rockstar!”

“Hey guys,” he says, waving shyly.

It’s odd to feel this way around these people that he’s known for years. Robin and Steve who’ve rented him way too many movies for free, Nancy and Johnathan who are probably why he graduated high school, and Argyle who was always his most loyal customer.

All of these memories and he feels a little too much like a stranger. At least he’s got you, who feels like one of the only sure things in his life. No matter how long goes by, you’re there, and he hopes you always will be.

“You want a drink?” Steve asks, leaning to reach into the cooler beside him.

“I’ll take one, thanks,” you say, catching the can Steve throws to you.

“I’m driving,” Eddie says, jingling his keys.

“Eddie Munson being responsible,” Robin teases, “they grow up so fast.”

And just like that, he feels a little better. These are his friends, and even though he’s not around all of the time, and even though he may not be as close to everyone anymore, they’ll still be his friends.

You sit down on the empty lounge chair and pat the space beside you for Eddie, sending him a smile that says both ‘told you so,’ in your snark he can practically hear, and ‘everything’s okay,’ in your kind way.

He plops down beside you.

“How’s everything going?” Johnathan asks him.

Not wanting all of the attention on him, Eddie keeps his answer short, “busy, but it’s a ton of fun.”

“Everything you ever dreamed of?” Robin adds.

“You could definitely say that.”

Though, Eddie has this strange feeling that he’s missing something whenever he’s gone. It’ll go away, but somehow, it always finds him again, when he’s debating on calling or not, when he’s hit with a memory of you in the front row at the Hideout when he’s on stage.

He looks over at you and finds you smiling softly at him, eyes fond. He can’t believe he’s the one you’re looking at like that.

Eddie blinks and turns back to the group, “how about you guys? How’re the jobs?”

The chatter picks up and surrounds him, but Eddie can’t stop thinking about the way you were looking at him just then. He’s never had someone look at him like that, like there’s nothing but affection there.

It’s platonic, he tells himself. She’s my best friend.

You feel happier now than you have in a while. Things feel more complete when Eddie’s around. Things feel right. It’s all of your favorite people with no empty chair, it’s falling back into a friendship that’s existed for years.

When conversations split off into smaller ones, you lean your head on his shoulder, and the words sort of slip out of you, “it’s really nice to have you here.”

His heart beats louder, he leans his head on top of yours, “it’s nice to be home.”

And it is. Eddie loves touring, he loves playing his music, and he loves his job, but at the end of the day, he’ll always be this boy from Hawkins, and he’ll always be happy to be home, to be with you.

Catching the moment, Argyle—always sharing his thoughts—says, “sick, you guys are finally together.”

You and Eddie both sit up, like you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t, even when you’ve sat like that countless times before.

Everyone’s eyes seem to be on the both of you now, and you have a tiny panic inside. Have you really been that obvious with how you feel? Does Eddie know and he hasn’t said anything because he doesn’t want to hurt you?

You laugh awkwardly, “what?”

“Like, dating,” Argyle explains.

“Me and Eddie?”

He’d been frozen for a second there, surprised that Argyle thought that. Was he seeing something Eddie couldn’t? No, no way.

“Just friends, guys,” Eddie says. “Come on.”

You swallow, forcing out a word, “exactly.”

“They’ve always been like this,” Nancy says, which explains enough but also sort of nothing at all.

Just friends. It’s something you know, you remind yourself constantly. It’s all it’ll ever be, and still, hearing Eddie say it out loud has your stomach feeling heavy. Just friends, get over it.

Even as conversation picks up again, as you laugh with everyone, the two words play in your head over and over. Then, after saying your goodbyes, once you’re in the van with Eddie again, it fades, because if you can’t be in love with him, you can be his best friend, and you’d much rather have that than nothing at all.

Once he drops you off, Eddie thinks and thinks about what Argyle had said. He goes over memories, over how he feels around you, and it hits him like a huge punch to the gut.

He thinks he has feelings for you. Big, huge feelings.

It’s the same day, a different sky, the sun sunk behind the horizon to give way to a sky full of stars and a bright moon.

Eddie’s van is parked by Lover’s Lake, the back full of blankets where you both sit, the doors open to look at the sky and the way the moonlight reflects on the water.

There’s practically an indent in the ground in the spot he’s parked, the one that’s been your go-to for ages. From day picnics to nighttime smoke sessions, it’s another place on the list of the ones that are filled with memories of Eddie.

Beside you, he’s got a joint in hand, the flick of his lighter catching your ears over the crickets and the breeze. You watch him inhale, his chest expanding, the smoke slipping from his lips. You turn back to the water.

“Your turn,” he says, handing you the joint.

You grab it between your fingertips and bring it to your mouth, feeling the smoke trail down your throat, further, then you’re breathing it out, clearing your throat at the tickle.

“Out of practice?” Eddie teases at your small cough.

“My favorite weed dealer went out of business,” you say, nudging his shoulder with yours, “so, yeah.”

He takes the joint back from you, “you don’t smoke when I’m not around? You know Argyle’s gotta have some stock.”

“Oh, he definitely does. A little too exotic for my taste. Besides, he won’t give it to me for free.”

“Getting cheap, trouble?”

You shrug, shoulder to your cheek, and give him an innocent smile.

It feels easy, the joint being passed back and forth between sentences until it’s done and stubbed out, the flow of conversation, the comfort that’s there. It’s always been easy with him, even when it hurts a little.

Eddie’s got on his worn denim vest, still full of pins, and you tug at it, “think this thing has a permanent weed smell by now.”

“I think that’s just part of my natural scent,” he replies, playfully flipping his hair over his shoulder.

His curls graze your cheek—that’s how close you’re sitting, thighs touching—and you giggle. You’ve had so many nights just like this one with Eddie, and it feels like some kind of reward that you get to have them still, even when they’re far less regular now.

“Doesn’t this make you think of high school?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Eddie’s hand is on his knee, his pinky twitches, reaching for your leg, “hell, I’m even wearing the same clothes as in high school.”

“How does it feel like yesterday and also a lifetime ago?”

Eddie looks over at you, the warm glow of moonlight and stars on your skin, the way your sweater hangs off your shoulder, the shine in your eyes that’s part weed and part nostalgia.

“A lot’s changed since then,” he says. “I’m not a loser anymore.”

“You’re still my loser.”

How is it that even when you’re calling him a loser, the idea of being yours in any sense of the word is enough to have Eddie’s heart swell in his chest, a balloon floating up and up and he has to swallow to push it back down.

“Stop being cheesy,” he plays it off, ruffling your hair.

You shove his arm away, “I just miss you!”

Eddie looks at his arm, your hand still holding onto it, he follows your arm with his gaze until it lands on your face. He thinks you’re beautiful, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen and no groupie could change that.

“I miss you, too, trouble.”

Something shifts, the air growing thicker, a sort of understanding between the two of you. There’s something here, something that could be a disaster but could also be so, so good. Could be everything.

“No way you think about me when you’ve got crowds and fans and-“

“I think about you a lot, honey.”

Honey. He’s probably called you that before, but never like this. Never dripping sweet and sincere, never looking at you like he wants to do something you can’t even let yourself imagine in fear of being let down, of hoping too much.

Eddie��s hand shifts from his own leg to yours, thumb running back and forth, burning you even through the fabric of your pants.

“You do?”

“All the time. You’re my best friend.”

Right. Friend.

“You’re mine, too, Eddie.”

And suddenly you can feel his breath fan across your cheek, your lips. His face is close to yours and the hair that falls over his forehead tickles yours. Just a second ago he’d been saying the word ‘friend,’ and now it feels like he’s going to do something to contradict that.

Against all odds, he does.

Eddie couldn’t help himself. Maybe he’ll blame the weed, or maybe he won’t, but before he knows it he’s reaching up with the hand that isn’t on his leg to cup your cheek and tilt your head. And he’s kissing you.

He’s kissing you.

It’s so delicate, so much you’re afraid to even breathe, like it’ll break in an instant. Eddie’s fingers squeeze your leg, urge you to kiss him back and there’s no way that you wouldn’t. Not when his lips are actually on yours, not when he tastes like weed and mint gum and something perfect.

It could be seconds or minutes that you’re kissing, tilting your head even more to feel him, clutching his sleeve tightly. It never deepens, but it doesn’t have to, it says enough.

When you pull away, it’s not one or the other who does it, it’s natural, like it’s been rehearsed time and time again. Eddie leans his forehead against yours, his hand still on your cheek.

“Was that a bad idea?” He asks you, voice low and quiet.

“Maybe. I don’t know.” And you don’t, because there’s no way of knowing what’s gonna happen next, if things will be ruined, if this will fade away like it never happened, or, maybe, just maybe, if it’ll start something.

“Was it okay?”

“More than okay.”

You don’t talk about it that night, and you don’t want to just yet. You’re fine with enjoying the pink-tinted haze at least until tomorrow.

Eddie’s barely been gone for two days and you’re not sure what to do with yourself. After that night, neither of you brought it up, and as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t. You were scared. And anyway, it was probably just the weed for him.

You’d never kissed before. Sure, you’ve come close, faces inches apart when you’d share a bed, whispers away, but nothing ever happened. Until now.

Now, sitting on your bed, chin resting on your knees, you’re reeling from knowing what Eddie’s lips feel like and missing him all over again. Rebuilding that piece in your chest.

Somewhere else in the country, in the world, Eddie’s position isn’t so different from yours. He’s sitting on the edge of his hotel bed, forearms on his knees, head bent. He wants to call you, and he’s figuring out what he’ll say when he does.

He misses you every time he isn’t home, but it’s never felt like this. There’s never been this ache in his stomach that won’t go away because of it. Fuck, he misses you more than ever.

The last trip back to Hawkins was different than anything else, because he brought back these feelings with him and he keeps reaching up to press his fingertips to his lips, like the memory of your own lingers there.

Sure, he’s had silly, sticky thoughts like waking up with his arms around you after a nap and thinking he could wake up that way forever, but he’s always pushed them down. Now, it seems, he can’t, the images too buoyant to ignore, floating back up every time.

Sucking in a deep breath, he sits up and reaches for the phone, dialing your number that’s stored in his memory. His leg bounces as the phone rings.

You’re startled by the screech of your phone on your bedside table, head lifting to look at it shake on the receiver. You reach over and pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, trouble. It’s not a bad time, is it?”

Eddie. His voice crackling through the phone sends a spike down your spine. You clutch the phone a little tighter.

You’d expected Robin, or Nancy, even Steve. Because there’d been a time, earlier in Corroded Coffin’s career, when Eddie would call you at least three times a week, and then the calls grew less frequent until they sort of died out to holidays and birthdays.

So, maybe a couple of years ago, you’d have expected Eddie’s voice, but not today.

“Eddie, hi. Not at all.”

“I- um, I just wanted to call,” a small pause, he clears his throat, “how are you?”

“It’s only been two days, you know how I am.”

“I mean right now.”

You twist to lay on your side, legs curling in towards your chest. You smile to yourself like an idiot. “Right now, I’m good. It’s lame, I already miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

The reply comes easily to him. There’s no thought to it, because in the past 48 hours, he hasn’t been able to stop missing you for a second. The warmth of your hand in his, the sunshine sound of your laughter.

He’s not sure why everything’s so big now, his feelings amplified, only quieted now, by the sound of your voice.

“Did you have a show today?”

You have a way of asking that makes it sound like you really care, Eddie thinks. He loves his music and he knows you know that. It means the world to him to do what he does, confusing feelings or not.

“Not today. We spent the day on the bus. Show’s tomorrow.”

“Nervous or excited?”

It’s something that you used to ask him before every small show in Hawkins, and the memory has a grin spreading on Eddie’s face. “It’s always both. More excited, though.”

“You should be,” you say. “You guys are really great.”

“Yeah? Who’s your favorite band member?”

He’s fishing, and you tease him rather than bite, “hmmm. Gareth.”

“Fuckin’ trouble. You liar.”

“You asked!”

“You answered the question wrong, honey.”

There it is again. Honey. You’re sort of glad he can’t see you right now because you probably look way too happy, burying your face in your pillow for a second before replying.

“You know you’re my favorite, Munson.”

“Yeah I am,” he sounds far too proud. And then, he’s softer, “I’m not keeping you up, am I? Time zones fuck me up.”

“No, no.” Even if he was, you wouldn’t tell him. This is better than trying and failing to sleep the way you so often do. “It’s not that late. What time is it for you?”

“Not that late,” he says, even though the clock on the nightstand reads 1:14AM. “So, what’s happening in Hawkins right now?”

“Mmm, it’s getting warmer. My window’s open and the crickets are loud as fuck.” You twist the phone cord around your fingers, “it’s donation week at the library, so I’ve been shelving new books for a change.”

Eddie listens to every word you say, asks you questions like if you’d kept any books for yourself (you had, but swore you’d give them to the library when you were done) and hums between your sentences.

Somewhere along the way, he’d laid down while listening to you, eyes shut as he tried to picture what you might look like right at this second. If you’re in your pajamas or not, whether your hair would be a little messy, baby hairs a halo around your face.

Then his eyes grew heavier, your voice putting him at ease even with the sounds of his bandmates laughing from somewhere in the hotel.

“Eddie?” You ask after he’d been silent for a bit.

“Hm?” He hums sleepily.

“I lost you for a second there.”

If he wasn’t half asleep, he’d feel worse. “Sorry, getting sleepy.”

“You wanna hang up?”

“No, uh- keep talking to me? You have a nice voice.”

You smile, cheeks pinching with the size of it.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll keep talking.”

And you do, you keep talking and talking until you can hear the sound of Eddie’s tiny snores on the other side of the line. You’re smiling again at that.

Even after you’re sure he’s asleep, you don’t hang up right away, not until your own eyes are growing heavy. You put the phone back quietly, like you’ll wake him if you’re not careful. You whisper a soft ‘goodnight, Eddie,’ as you do.

There’s a small stiffness in your fingers from how tightly you’d been holding the phone, and still, you’d let your hand cramp for hours to talk to him.

The next morning, Eddie wakes up with the pattern of the phone pressed to his cheek where he’d left it last night.

The TV sends flashes of color flickering across your living room and over your face. Usually, you’d be in bed by now, but it’s the night of the MTV awards and Corroded Coffin is nominated. You couldn’t miss it.

You’re not really paying attention to most of it, the sounds of performances and hosts and thank-you speeches filling your ears as you read your latest book. At least, you’re not paying attention until Eddie’s category is announced.

That has you shutting your book and sitting up, grabbing the remote to turn the volume higher.

They show the nominees, give far too long of an introduction before tearing open the envelope holding the winner’s names. You don’t know it, but you’re practically white knuckling the blanket on your lap.

“And the MTV award goes to… Corroded Coffin!”

You stand and place a hand on your chest, feeling your heart beating—racing—for the band, for Eddie. This is huge, it’s a dream, and it’s his. If you could, you’d give him a suffocating hug right now.

Eddie’s voice taking over, thanking his fans and Wayne, the boys and their team, then, thanking Hawkins and the people there, even when they gave him hell.

If you knew the right number to call to talk to him, you’d dial it in an instant.

Lucky for you, your phone rings the next night, late enough that you can only assume it’s Eddie given you don’t know anyone else who’s probably in a different time zone right now. You pick up quickly, fumbling with the phone a little before bringing it up to your ear.

“Eddie?”

“How’d you know it was me?”

“Ummm, my amazing intuition? Telepathy?”

“Telepathy, she says.” There’s a soft chuckle on his end, you close your eyes and lean your head back to thump against the wall behind you. “How’re things, trouble?”

“I feel like I should be asking you that, mister MTV winner.”

Eddie’s been calling more often again, whenever he gets the chance, really. Even so, he never thought you’d be keeping up with him that way, that you’d care enough to watch an award show and remember what he’d achieved.

“You were watching?” He asks, heart thudding.

“Of course I was. I’m your biggest fan, remember?” You’re sitting with your back against your headboard, knees bent, hand absentmindedly pulling at a loose thread in your pajama pants. “I’ve got cheerleader pom-poms and everything.”

“You do not.”

“Do too. They’re super metal, all black.”

“Yeah, cause pom-poms are super metal, babe.”

Another pet name in the rotation, uttered like it’s easy, natural. You bite back a smile.

“Whatever. Mine would be,” you say. “I’m glad you called.”

“Me, too.”

“I wanted to call you yesterday,” you admit, twisting that loose thread in your fingers, “after I saw you won. I’m really proud of you, Eddie.”

They’re words he hadn’t been expecting, but ones he’ll be thinking about over and over. He wants to keep making you proud, he thinks, and he’ll pour that into everything he does whether he means to or not.

“Thank you,” his voice is quieter, almost shy. “I wouldn’t be here without you, you know?”

“You would. You’re talented, and there’s no way that could stay hidden in this town, you’re bigger than it.”

Somehow, it’s easier to be so open with him on the phone. You don’t have to look at him, get distracted by his tongue running over his lips or the way his bangs get caught in his eyelashes sometimes. This way, all you have to do is speak, nothing more.

“Trouble-” he can’t even find the words to say, because there’s affection laced in your tone, seeping through the phone and into his head and, fuck, he wants to kiss you for it and he can’t. “I really miss you.”

“I miss you, too.” There’s some silence, and the overthinker in you worries that you’ve said too much even though you meant it with every part of you, that you’ve given yourself away. “Anyways, I should go, let you celebrate your win.”

It’s what he would be doing if Eddie’s thoughts hadn’t been so full of you and your mouth and your voice. It’s what his bandmates and friends are surely doing in some club around here.

“You don’t need to. I’m not doing anything.”

“No?” You try to lighten your tone, to joke the way you usually do, “don’t have groupies knocking on your hotel room door right now?”

Instead of playing along, Eddie’s voice is serious, still soft in the way he speaks to you, but serious nonetheless, “I don’t entertain them, honey.”

“You don’t?”

He’s tried. But ever since you kissed him, probably since before that, too, Eddie can’t seem to look at anyone else, let alone have someone else kiss him and tarnish the memory of your lips on his. He’s only ever thinking of you, it seems. So no, he hasn’t fooled around lately.

“Not in a while. I’m trying to write for the next album. No distractions.”

No distractions. He says it like that’s true, even though he can’t seem to fully focus, like there’s a piece he’s missing. Like every lyric he’s written since he’s been back isn’t somehow about you.

He’s so, so fucked.

“Look at you, Munson. Squeaky clean.”

You hope he can’t tell that you’re sort of a mess, a stupid blossom of hope planting itself where it shouldn’t. He’s your friend, he’s always been just your friend. But you kissed and it felt like something changed, and you can’t seem to let go of that.

“You sound surprised,” he teases, gathering his wits the best he can.

“Can you blame me? You used to have multiple lunchboxes reserved for your weed.”

“You loved those lunchboxes and you know it.”

“Yeah, I did.”

And then, like that moment was simply a blip, easily brushed over, your conversation turns back to your normal. Jokes with underlying affections, teasing while picturing what kind of smile the other wears when you laugh lightly into the phone.

Time runs away from you, and by the time you hang up it’s well into the early hours of the morning, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

After hanging up, Eddie’s got this sinking, aching pull in his stomach. He knows what it is, has had bouts of it before where he misses Wayne’s hand patting his back or the way his mattress is worn-in just the right amount back at the trailer, when he thinks about what his friends might be doing or what science project Dustin’s got going on.

But it’s never felt this heavy. Eddie’s the most homesick he’s ever been.

He’d listen to your voice forever, but in that moment, he’d give anything to see your face, to see the shake of your shoulders when you laugh, the curve of your smile.

What the hell is wrong with him?

Eddie wipes his palms on his thighs before standing and walking out into the living room of his band’s suite hotel room. The guys are still up, and they’re all staring at him like weirdos.

“What?” He pauses in the doorway.

“Did you tell her you’re in love with her yet, or what?” Jeff, the electric guitarist, asks him.

“What?” Eddie says again because there’s no way he heard that right. He’d only just come to terms that he had feelings. This is much bigger.

“You’re joking,” Gareth pipes in, “you don’t even know it? Dude, you’re all ‘I miss you, trouble, you’re my favorite person ever.’” He does a knowingly terrible impression of Eddie.

“I do not sound like that.”

“You kinda do,” Jeff says.

“Why else would you be spending hours in that room on the phone, man? Come on,” Gareth sing songs the next bit: “you’re in loooove.”

Then Eddie thinks and thinks and thinks. The warmth that blooms when he hugs you, the jealousy he felt when he thought that server at Benny’s was flirting with you, the difficulty to say goodbye, the way your kiss haunts him in his sleep.

These idiots aren’t usually right about things, but just this once, maybe they are. Eddie Munson is probably, very likely, definitely in love with you.

Yeah, he’s so fucked.

♫♩♪♬

thank you so so much for reading!!! if you enjoyed please please please consider reblogging and letting me know what you think! it helps and means so much <333 i have plans for a part two, and if you’d like to see it, some support would help a bunch! ily!

3K notes · View notes

sashasspace · 5 months ago

Text

Love Language mod v1- the intro ♡

I can’t believe my first ever mod is finally out! I wrote it out in July 2021 hoping the day it could be a mod and the fact it is out now feels so surreal. The five love language mod in the sims! Yes, our sims can now have a love language as a trait. You can buy the trait from the rewards store and it costs 12 points. Once your sim has the trait, you can see it in the simology panel and then your sims will have wants surrounding their trait. I used ALL the packs to create this mod.

What are the wants we will see in game?

Most of the instructions are already in the game on how to complete the wants

Words of affirmation

For words of affirmation, your sim’s charisma skill is an important factor when it comes to their social interactions

Compliment outfit *skill 2 charisma*

Compliment appearance

Brighten day *skill 2 charisma*

Flatter *skill 3 charisma*

Ask about day

Express admiration

Whisper (any whisper social)

Profess undying love

Pickup line *for couples with high relationship, just have your couple flirt*

Sweet talk *skill 6 charsima*

Flirt

Declare love publicly

Get to know

Discuss interest

Deep conversation

Tell story (any story social)

Tell dirty joke *skill 4 comedy and also flirty*

Ask a risqué question

Write love email *skill 4 writing/ flirty mood*

Flirty text *could be regular text too*

Heartfelt compliment *happy mood*

Say affirmations

Write affirmations

Quality time

Ask about day

Watch movie alone or with someone

Play Console / PC alone or with someone *skill 4 video gaming*

Call someone

Chat on computer

Cook meal alone or with someone (any meals from all packs)

Picnic *spring/summer season*

Prepare drinks (any drinks from all packs)

Travel

Join in cooking

Workout *skill 6 fitness*

Dance together *skill 3 dance*

Pillow fight

Teach to knit *skill 10 knitting*

Play with sparkler *must be summer/fireworks must be on property for the want to appear*

Video call

Watch TV show

Take a bath *any bath*

Play board games *all table games included*

Gifts

Give gift *friendly, mean, funny or romantic*

Give simoleons

Treat yourself or any animal

Receive gift *open presents from seasons*

Buy something *retail, phone, computer purchase...etc.*

Offer rose *gift rose or flower arrangement in inventory/ buy from the flower stall*

Donate to charity *skill 3 charisma*

Give jewelry gift *gemology table*

Give a collectable as a gift *dig to find something or buy simmi capsule*

Acts of service

Call to meal

Be called to a meal

Make drinks for *use bar*

Prepare drinks (any drink from any pack)

Order drinks together / solo

Cheers *toast from seasons/ my wedding stories*

Order food from stall

Clean up

Repair

Give or receive massage *romantic base game social or spa day*

Cook (any meal)

Donate to charity *skill 3 charisma*

Order delivery

Serve tea/ be served tea *object from my wedding stories*

Hire a service (any service)

Volunteer *parenthood pack*

Physical touch

These wants need sims to have a first kiss to appear. For sims created in CAS as married or premades, they have to woohoo first for the want to appear.

Kiss

Kiss lover's cheek / family kiss *all sims are included in this interaction*

Hug / Embrace *all sims are included in this interaction*

Caress cheek

Snuggle your lover

Give / receive Massage

Look deeply into eyes

Feed a bite

Slow dance / sweetheart dance *My wedding stories/ High school years*

Cozy up by the fire

Woohoo (any location)

Cuddle while watching movie

Make out

Tickle

Credits 💕

Thank you Tee (danitysimmer) for helping me and teaching me all about modding. You are so patient with me and so understanding.. I’ll never forget your kindness. I pray you receive so many blessings in life

Jordy, thank you for motivating me to go back and cheering me on when I sent updates

My family and friends who cheered me on when I sent updates

Zerbu’s mod constructor v5 / Lot51 tuning builder

Sims 4 studio / Scumbumbo’s xml injector

Cinnasims for the pose I used / pose player mod

"The Five Love Languages" by Gary Chapman

Twistedmexi better exceptions

My amazing friends who tested this mod out thank you so much!

XML INJECTOR IS REQUIRED!!!!

Optional downloads ♥

UI Cheats Extension v1.41 | Patreon

MiniMod: Re-Roll Wants | Patreon

Video tutorial

CLICK HERE TO DOWNLOAD THE MOD Alternate Download

Brazilian Portuguese love language mod

French love language mod

Polish love language mod

Ukrainian love language mod

Spanish love language mod

FAQs ღ

Why is the mod not appearing for me? You don't have XML injector mod 💜

There will be future updates such as moodlets/buffs and love languages for children. If you have any issues, please contact me. I will try my best to figure it out. Tag me if you use the mod, I would love to see it in your game. Thanks for downloading and being patient with me. I wish you a lovely day!

Take care 🌙

🚨 For any modder who wants to translate any of my mods, I don't mind if you upload it on your patreon, or even any other website that monetizes, BUT I do not want you to post it on CurseForge. I would also like if you keep the mods publicly for download no early access.

#the sims 4 #simblr #sims 4 #ts4 simblr #simmer #black simmer #sims 4 mods #sims 4 love language mod

829 notes · View notes

odiesdayoff · 1 month ago

Text

Kinktober: Tommy Shelby

Pair: Modern!Thomas Shelby x fem!reader

Summary: Your roommate's father doesn't approve of your vape.

Warning: Age Gap/Best friend's father/Dubious Consent/Tom makes reader get high

“I found it!” You yelled from across the dorm, your head poking out from behind the bed. Still partially stuck between the bed and the wall, you held up your strawberry-flavored weed pen to show Charlie. The amount of anxiety that losing it gave you was enough to realize that you and your roommate may have gotten a bit too reliant on the drug.

You brought the pen to your mouth, but Charlie slapped it from your hand. “Dude, my family will be here in minutes! It can’t smell like Ganja Gooch in here.”

“What? You don’t have weed up in Birmingham?” You laughed. From what you knew about his family, they weren’t the most…clean cut people in the world. Why would they be upset over something so trivial as a weed pen? In your two years of being best friends with Charlie, you’d never met his parents. Only his Aunt Ada, who was sweet.

He placed the pen on your dresser. “Shut up. When are you parents coming?”

Most of the already small dorm room was covered in boxes, trash bags, and miscellaneous crap. “At 5. You’ll probably be moved out by then.” You pocketed the pen and began folding your bedding to shove it into the box it originally came in.

His phone started to ring. “That’s my mum. Are you sure you can’t go to Mary’s dorm?” You still weren’t sure of the reason that he was so cagey about his family. He had been to your house over Spring break this year and you were still in the dark.

“I have to finish packing.” It wasn’t a lie, you had put off packing until the final day. Studying for exams and final papers took up all of your free time. That and Mario Kart.

You knew that Charlie came from a rich family, but this was a new level that you haven't seen before. His father dressed like he was from the 1920’s or something, with a full suit and peaky cap. You could smell the cigarette smoke infused into his clothes before you could see him.

His mother (or maybe step-mother, you weren’t sure) wore an elegant dress that was both fashionable and functional. Her deep brown hair was curled and pinned back. Her eyes lit up at the sight of you. “You must be the infamous Y/n!” She pulled you into a hug and you could smell her perfume mixed with a bit of her husband’s smoke. “You’re even prettier in person than in those silly Instagram photos Charlie posts.”

“It’s really lovely to meet you, Mrs. Shelby. I can’t believe we’ve been friends for so long and have never met before.” Charlie was still holding the door open for his little sister, Ruby, and didn’t hear your diss.

She waved you off. “Call me Lizzie, dear. This is Thomas.” She pulled the sleeve of her husband and made him face you. He barely looked at you, though you did notice the way his eyes lowered down your body.

“I still don’t see why we had to be the ones to move Charles out, Lizzie. We can pay people for that.” Lizzie rolled her eyes. Why couldn’t he understand sentimentality and actually being present in the pivotal moments of his only son’s life? He only had one more year of university left. It was strange to hear him be called Charles. It felt all too fancy for someone so…normal. I suppose his father wouldn’t say the same.

Lizzie scoffed. “Just start moving boxes, Tom.” She turned back to you. “So, where are you from?”

You decided to ignore Thomas. “Norwich.”

Charlie handed a smaller bag to Ruby while Thomas took a storage container. He pulled out his ID and opened the front door for the three of them. “The elevator’s already broken, so it’s lucky we’re on the first floor.”

Having Charlie’s side of the room empty was a surreal sight. So many memories that were made in the room were basically erased at this point.

You took the pen and opened a window, taking it in and blowing it out the window. “And here I thought you were little miss sunshine.” You began to cough and gasp for fresh air at the sudden voice. Turning around, you locked eyes not with Charlie, but with his father.

Smoke billowed from your mouth. “Mr. Shelby- I…thought you all had left.” You rasped out the words, reaching for a water bottle to try and soothe your throat. He smirked at your attempt to hide your distress.

“My wife left her purse. I see you didn’t waste a second with your…” He snatched the pen from your hand. “What is this? Can’t you get real weed here?”

“It’s easier to manage. And rechargeable.” He examined the pen, shaking his head. He brought the pen to his lips and took a hit. The smoke left his mouth in a way you’d never seen before. It was skilled, he didn’t even cough. It formed into rings that blew in your direction.

“Can barely taste it. How much weed is actually in this?” He examines the pen, and then his glance shifts towards you. "I bet you can barely take it, yeah?"

You rolled your eyes. "I'm not that intolerant. I've been high before."

He tosses it to you. "Suck in until it blinks."

It was a bit of a surprise that he knew what a blinker even was. He seemed like the type to exclusively use one brand of cigarettes since he was a teenager. As if he'd step foot in one of the fancy dispensaries you and Charlie were used to.

You maintained eye contact as you put the tip of the pen in your mouth and began to suck the flavored smoke from it. It took only a few seconds for it to blink and you could finally exhale. It was as if your lungs had never touched oxygen before. They screamed at you to cough, but you didn't want to prove him right.

"Another." He ordered, taking a small step closer. You weren't sure if he was getting taller or if it was just a mix of weed and perspective.

The vape was already hot as you rested it on your bottom lip. You breathed in again, holding it until it blinked. The taste was much worse and the sting against your throat felt like fresh salt in an open wound.

You coughed, only once. Typically, it took you much longer to feel the instant effects of the drug, but you could feel your hands already trembling under the eye of Thomas.

He nodded, finally close enough to put his calloused hands on the soft skin of your waist. "Again."

Something about his gaze and the absolution in his voice made it impossible for you to deny what he wanted. Your shaky hand held the vape up and you sucked.

His slightly chapped lips pressed against yours once you took the pen from your mouth. All of the smoke leaving your system funneled into his. You couldn't deny the way his contact made your knees weak and thighs squeeze together.

The weed was taking effect rapidly. Your head was spinning as you tried to focus on him. His lips traveled from your lips to your cheek to your ear. "Tell me, have you and Charles ever had sex?"

The words briefly brought you out of the weed and lust-driven stupor. You shook your head. "No...we're just friends."

He laughed. "Are you gay?" You denied. "Is he gay?" Again, you denied. "How has he not ever taken the chance to bed you?"

You could barely answer. His hand trailed up your leg and under your thin dress. Nothing could hide the heat that emanated from between your legs.

His free hand took the vape from yours and pressed it against your lips. Instinctively, you took a deep breath in, letting the smoke fill your aching lungs once again. "Is it because you're a virgin? Or maybe...you have an affinity for older men?"

You nearly stopped feeling the warmth of his hand on your leg until he pressed his fingers against the now-damp fabric of your panties. It was humiliating how much he turned you on...and how much the feeling of being humiliated by him turned you on even more.

"Mr. Shelby.." You coughed out, your throat sore and stinging with each syllable. As much as you wanted to scream at him to actually touch you, it would be too much to say at once.

Thomas Shelby wasn't a mind-reader, but he could read when a woman wanted him. He slipped his fingers underneath your panties and pushed into you. Your slick cunt welcomed him in without resistance at all. "Want me to stop? Leaving you high and horny while I go back to my wife and children?"

You shook your head no, silently pleading for him to do something over then idly have his fingers knuckle-deep within you. He curled his fingers, hitting the spots that your own hand couldn't reach if you tried, and moaned into his shoulder.

"Take another and I'll keep giving you what you want." Dazed, you sucked more from the pen. It was far more than you were used to, especially in such a short amount of time. Your legs threatened to give out, for multiple reasons.

"Please..." Your fingers lightly caressed his pants. It had been a while since you had anyone touch you, let alone someone like him.

He got the idea, pulled his hand away, and quickly freed himself from the confines of his trousers. There were condoms somewhere in this room, hidden in one of the boxes so your family wouldn't see that you even thought about something as evil as sex.

There wasn't time to look. You needed him now and it was only a matter of time before Charlie and the rest of them got suspicious. You pulled your panties down to your ankles and allowed his knee to settle between your trembling legs.

His lips trailed against your ear. "I'm going to show you a real high."

#thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders #kinktober #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #tommy shelby #odiesdayoff

211 notes · View notes

theagstd · 4 months ago

Text

One Night Stand

➥ rundown ; as if the unexpected twist of a one-night stand turning out to be your CEO boss wasn't surreal enough, the situation takes a more challenging turn when both of you discover that you're expecting his child.

→ genre ; strangers to lovers | CEO au | pregnancy trope | slowburn

→ Jungkook x y/n

→ contains smut, fluff and angst

→ chapter one ; wc | 2.8k

primarily on Wattpad

a/n ; i decided to post on Tumblr as an alternative platform since Wattpad seems to be taking down books but anyway hope you enjoy my book and follow me here and on wattpad to read more content from me. this is the first series i'm posting on Tumblr so hope it's good enough.

chapter one

Index ↪ next chapter

The club lights up with multiple disco colours rotating around the area, the neon, dynamic lighting, and strobes allow the people to see each other in various hues and tints, including you. There you stand, leaning your hip towards the bar while typing a letter and sipping the earthy red wine, 'Pinot Noir' with a twisty fancy straw that the club offers.

"Yeah, I'm gonna do it."

You screamed over for the second time to your friend who sits beside you, grooving herself to the music playing out loud with her champagne glass in her hand.

"There's no way you're gonna do it." Kayla is her name. The only friend you've made here in Seoul, Korea. You wouldn't exactly call her your best friend or good friend, but well, she's been there for you for a couple of months. You both worked together as an intern at the coffee store down the street, and she left for a better job while you're stuck finding job applications to work as a graphic designer that you've mastered. The boundary between your conversation was due to the loud music being played, but you managed to hear her over it. "Just a sec, let me mail my application."

It's one of the 5th applications you've filled for the day and were now sending it at a club, while you're drunk as fuck but you've tried to keep a tweesy bit of your consciousness just so this mail doesn't go all wrong, it can't go wrong. It's for a very prestigious company in Korea. You clicked on the 'send' option of email and turned off your phone to get back to why you're actually here at the club.

"Why not? You guys tried it, and now it's my turn." Picking out the plastic straw with your fake nails, you dropped it and chugged down the rest of the wine, patting your lips against the tissue to wipe off the excess alcohol that was stuck to your gloss, you moaned at the taste of the liquid hitting your throat.

"Girl, you're gonna rock it. Go ride him out!!"

The woman in the red bodycon dress with her hair tied up to a ponytail hyped you more by her words.

She was always ready for a good fuck and have always tried to push you for it too, since it's been a while you've been deprived from sex as you held strongly to your faith of being in a relationship but tonight, you could really feel yourself ready for it and so you were just gonna hit up to anyone who you think would be the best at it.

The dance floor looked so inviting with the couples and single females dancing to the sensual music played by the DJ, what the floor was missing was you so you slipped your way towards it and began to shake your body to the beats of the song. Kayla and a few of her friends cheered for you, and that only made you move harder.

the bodycon dress you wore, showed off your perfect curves that you've worked hard for throughout your life, your ideal hourglass body matched no one's on the stage, you were the woman of the night. Not only does the dress look alluring on you, but the length of it being above your knees, long sleeved, and the box neck of it made most of the men around you to drool. you enjoyed the attention that you received.

It was what alcohol makes you crave for. When the music skipped to the remix of Streets by Doja Cat, the lights dimmed to orange and red, spreading an intimate vibe between couples, allowing the ladies to feel themselves to each word, each beat of each second. The rich smoky scent of cigarettes lingered under your nose, arousing you to grab on and place them between your lips but you control yourself, not wanting to fall into the trap of tobacco once again that left you suffering for months.

What stopped you from dancing was the eyes of a man who sat distant from the dance floor, alone at the corner of the room with his champagne glass around the palms and fingertips. He looked appealing, charming, and smart. you looked over at him to be fully aware if he was, in fact, looking at you or another woman, then making eye contact with the man he looked into your eyes to. sipping his liquid while his hooded eyes never left yours, his eyes welcomed you, so you walked to him to accept his hospitality.

To get a closer look at his eyes, that warmed you, that stopped you from dancing, those eyes that made you feel unique of them all. your heels clicked on the floor, towards the man who was seated on the velvet couch that were coloured in crimson red, unmatching his jet black suit that sparkled with the ebony glitter, his black shirt unbuttoned and his hair sweaty and long that curled up and fell on his eyes, covering his right one.

'fuck, had i noticed him before, it would be me, eyeing him all the way.'

you thought to yourself while you pushed your bangs away from your eyes so you could look at him deeper. "hey?" greeting him with your deep voice, since the alcohol had left your voice box dry, you took a seat beside him, his manly vanilla scent brushed under your nose that allowed you to take a deep breath of his fragrance.

"What do you want?" he questioned you, with droopy eyes, no he did not look sleepy he looked aroused by your presence. his fingertips that gripped his glass, was taken off them as you gulped down the little liquid that he had remained in it. the man was surprised, the move was bold, unexpected yet attractive. you dropped the glass on the table and licked your lips, eyes squinting at the horrible taste of it.

"fuck, that was so bitter."

you whispered under your breath, that he heard as the music at this corner of the room was not very loud. you then looked over at him, since he had asked you a question a while ago before you chugged down his absolute bad taste on alcohol. Being confident was a positive aspect of liquor, it brought that up to you, it allowed you to be who you are within you, bringing out the inner devil. the queen of horniness, the spirit of sex.

"wanna go upstairs?"

mumbling breathly, you asked him, looking over at his eyes, now that he brushed his hair with his fingers allow you to examine his dark black eyes that glare into your soul. you didn't hesitate, you were assured that you needed him. you need him inside of you so you're gonna get it. he analysed you, from that ruby red gloss to that tight figure hugging dress that hugged your waist ever so perfectly leaving your thighs on display that had that flesh just the way he liked it,

so he could grab it with his palm while you rode him. he knew from first glance that he needed you, he could tell that you had the body just the way he liked it, just his type. However, he was not gonna take advantage of this opportunity since you're drunk. "no thanks."

He mumbled, grabbing his champagne bottle and pouring the rest of it into his glass, which you had left a lip imprint with the gloss, he could see how plump your lips were just by the stain you had left. you were not accepting a no for an answer, he dared to undress you with his eyes and he said no. You liked the play, you liked the tension, this made you grow closer to him, the man didn't move.

This, of course, means that he wants you too. "you're missing out. this is a good opportunity. Come on." you whispered, at which he caught on immediately. He was trying his best to ignore you, but he could feel himself getting hard just by this, teasing.

"don't. don't miss it out." He knew that you're doing this intentionally so you could trap him. It's working. the words coming out of your mouth breathlessly, fanning it over his ears while your lips brush on his ear lobe, the man exhaled sharply and quietly not wanting you to know that this is all getting him affected.

for the first time, he feels weak, even sipping the liquid isn't doing anything to him right now, the world seems like it's stopped and you're the only one here, working your way into his pants. he faced you only to see nothing but lust, passion, and the drive of sexual frustration. he looks for confirmation in your eyes, he sees it. he sees how you need this, and you seem conscious about this decision.

"Let's go." You hear him mumble, allowing the both of you to step up from the couch, following him to a corridor that leads to the washrooms. You internally groan at this. You want sex. full on sex not a quickie, but when you walk behind him, his hand never leaves yours. you pass by the horny couples fucking around,

the moans of the females, males and the gay couples who have almost filled up the male restrooms. he walked you into a room, the interior of it modern, ebony and maroon.

scented candles lighting up the atmosphere, rose fragrance slip into each other's breasts. he walked towards you, stopping at the doorstep while you admire the luxury of this area, where no one seemed to be around, this corridor was empty, the faint music was barely heard, just the room giving beauty and the beast vibes. his hand left yours as it snuck into his pockets. glancing over at you, he noticed your reaction and smirked, he sighed and questioned unsurely.

"Still up for it?" you faced him as he now stands in front of you, towering your height as he leans on to the door frame. "I don't second guess my decisions."

whisper and he pulls you inside, pushing you to close the door, his palm held around your wrist tightly, he begins by pressing his lips on your bare neck. his lips were warm against your cold skin, that let him easily melt against you while your hands wrapped around his neck, pushing him down for more, to be harder. a kisser as good as him, makes you crave this more, that excites you as this is just the beginning.

On the other hand, he could not stop tasting you with his tongue swirling around the nape of your neck, finding your sweet spot that he got in a few seconds. allowing your moans to spill out, he groaned against you when he heard your voice. pressing a few kisses after he had left his mark on you, he held your wrist and walked you over to the bed.

you sit on it, looking up at him while he looks down at you. his eyebrow raises, letting you know what he needs, his finger gestures you to take off your clothes so you do, letting the shoulders fall off, when your hand goes behind to unzip it, he pauses you and grew closer to you, his face on your shoulder as he lets his breath fan you while he unzips it. you push it off your body, letting you rest with the lace black lingerie you had worn.

he could feel himself drooling, he eyes wandering around your body so without wasting any more time, he removes his coat and throws it away, then about to unbutton his shirt when you push his hand aside. you slowly began to unbutton for him, this gave him the wonderful opportunity to check you out more, seated on the bed, with your perfectly toned abs. you looked like a masterpiece, a piece he's never seen before, never had he seen a woman this perfect with the most mesmerising features. you threw away his shirt, taking the moment to admire his chest.

fuck, he even has tattoos that decorates his right arm arm. its captivating, distracting you with his canvas that explains his individual touch and unique stories, you want him to tell you about it but now's not the time, especially when he reminds you that you're here for sex. he looks at your eyes, wondering why i've paused, then he sees it.

you're interested in his tattoos, that had him chuckling. "shall we begin, darling?" you looked up at him, then with a smirk and a nod you placed your index finger into your mouth, wetting it with your eyes locked with his. you stroked the man's hard chest,

the man who was confused a few seconds ago, now had his eyes closed as he threw his head back, moaning as he feels his insides heating up and clenching, he felt himself grow, he loved the boldness, he never truly admired dom females but today, you. he thinks he would never get over this or find someone better.

"fuck me?"

you ask, softly, looking up at him with big round doe eyes that made him weak, he wanted to drop on his feet and beg you to fuck him but he didn't. he let himself smirk as he bent down to meet your face, leaving centimeters apart, gently he caressed your chin with his finger and then he hovered over you, slowly pushing you down on bed until you met with the silk sheets, that rubbed against your bare back.

"With pleasure, darling...." he whispers as he sucked on your ear lobe while he pushed himself inside you without any warnings, allowing whimpers and muffled moans that leave from your lips.....

"I'm late! I'm late, shit shit."

You woke up to the yelling of the alarm clock that had tried its best to wake you up 30 minutes ago. now showing 7;46 am. in its display. You're supposed to be at the office at 8.

No way you're late on your first day. It's certainly not your first day of work, but it's still your interview, and there's no way you could miss this opportunity. Working as a head graphic designer is all that you need. It's what you've been dying for,

You've been doing multiple jobs to make a living, but there's something you've always been good at and that's been designing and advertising. What's all the qualifications and degrees for if you can't work at what you're best at. And plus this job's description has exactly what you're looking for, so you need this job, it's a need.

It's a blessing that the building is not too far from your apartment. You took a seat in front of the ceo's room. You've been there before as some of the staff reviewed you. Hence, you're under the shortlist.

And now's the big moment, interviewing with the CEO himself because he wants to recruit the best workers for his company, and that means they have to meet his expectations.

So he takes this in his hands. You were nervous, shaking your leg vigorously, and your sweaty hands had left imprints on your files.

"Ms Lee Y/n?"

"Yes, that's me."

"You've been called in." The woman dressed in a black skirt and a white silk shirt spoke kindly to you, leading your way to the CEO's room.

She opened the door, allowing you to walk inside, for which you thanked her, and she left, giving you a bow. you clicked your heels as you walked towards the man who was seated on his luxurious office chair that had its back turned towards you. "Take a seat."

He demanded as he twirled his chair to meet the face of his applicant, with his sheet of papers and pen between his fingers. your eyes widened at the vision of the man in front of you, parting your lips and breathing, only getting heavy with the time passed. the CEO didn't meet you until he had no response from you. He raised his eyebrows, then took his eyes off the paper to meet yours, and he paused. "You?"

He muttered, and you immediately blinked multiple times, looking everywhere else except his eyes. There is no way he is the one. There's no fucking way that your one night stand turned out to be the CEO of the company you applied to. fuck.

next chapter ↪

follow me on Instagram for updates, this book is mainly featured on wattpad so follow me there if you want to be the first one to be notified when i post a new chapter.

here are the links to my socials, click to open up !

Instagram

Wattpad

AO3

Tiktok

#ask #bts edits #jungkook #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #wattpad #books #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #btswritersclub #one night stand #bts fluff #bts angst

176 notes · View notes

slexenskee · 8 months ago

Text

Detour (MDNSY Oneshot)

For an ask about the reactions of the JJK cast on MDNSY Gojo's... everything 😂

Scrubstan22 finds himself in the (un)enviable position of explaining Ru-kun to the JJK cast

(Link here: or read below)

Nanabi Shun, better known by his online handle ‘Scrubstan22’ is having his most surreal day yet. An unhinged mad scientist turned villain with a space-time quirk and an obsession with Ru-kun that borders on the same level as even the most delusional of Scrubs, has accidentally flung him, an innocent bystander, into an alternate dimension.

This would be terrifying, if it wasn’t apparently some kind of alternate dimension where Ru-kun’s anime is real.

And not only is it real… it’s apparently Ru-kun’s true origin story??

To be fair, it’s still terrifying, but Scrubstan22 has more pressing matters to focus on than his own mortality and possible impending doom.

Gojo Satoru apparently exists in this world— but Ru-kun does not.

It’s utterly absurd! It’s unreasonable and unfair! Maybe those songs really do already exist in this world— as the very unamused talking Panda keeps trying to tell him— but if No Scrubs and Ru-kun aren’t performing it, then they don’t actually exist at all! Nanabi couldn’t possibly put into words how life-changing it was to see Ru-kun perform in person. The fact that he doesn’t exist in this world— or at least not as the shit-posting global celebrity rockstar that Nanabi knows him as— is really quite sad. These poor kids don’t know what they’re missing out on. As a major Scrub and Ru-kun simp, Nanabi just can’t let this slide. He has to rectify it immediately.

Luckily he has a perfect solution.

His entire downloaded archive of all things No Scrubs and Ru-kun.

Some of Gojo Satoru’s students are more impressed than others.

“I hate that he looks so good in that skirt,” comes from the glasses-wearing girl. Maki, he thinks is her name. He only watched through the anime once so he’s pretty bad with the names of all the side characters.

“I should have known he’d make an excellent Sailor Moon after he stole my uniform.” Kugisaki Nobara complains, looking exactly as her character does in the anime.

Neither of them are enthused to see Ru-kun in his crossdressing glory, but Nanabi notices they’re unwillingly enthralled nonetheless.

Itadori Yuuji himself— the main character of Cursed Fight Season One— is unsurprisingly the most enthusiastic about it all. He nearly climbs over Nanabi for a better look at the recording on his phone, eyes alight.

“Sensei is so cool as a rockstar! It really suits him well!” Itadori exclaims, delighted. “And he’s singing ‘My Chemical Romance’? Sensei has such good taste!”

“He’s just an emo-punk loser who clearly had way too much time on his hands,” Fushiguro Megumi protests, although despite his inflammatory remarks he too doesn’t look away from the screen.

Apparently quite a few No Scrubs’ songs are from this band ‘My Chemical Romance’. Yuuji even shows him the music video of the same song from the actual band just to prove it, although that was wholly unnecessary. Nanabi believes him when he says all these songs already exist in this world and belong to other bands— he just doesn’t care. If anything, seeing the other bands perform it just confirms what he already believed; Ru-kun does it better.

Nanabi is happy to show them all the fan recordings he has of No Scrubs, gushing over the various outfit choices and the songs themselves. It’s actually kind of nice that these songs exist already, because that means these kids already know them and he can argue about which are superior without having to explain. Itadori’s favorite is ‘A Loaded God Complex’, called ‘Sugar We’re Goin’ Down’ in this world (although Itadori admits the changed title suits Ru-kun far more), Fushiguro’s is ‘Island in the Sun’, and Panda translates that Inumaki’s is ‘Thanks for the Memories’, but Panda himself confesses he’s unfamiliar with this genre of music. The two girls decry all their picks as boring, and don’t seem particularly impressed by any of Ru-kun’s songs until—

“Paramore!!” The two girls screech in unison, suddenly looking a lot more invested than they had earlier.

Nanabi has up a recording from the Scrubs Unite tour, which Ru-kun had done entirely in drag. They’d finally gotten to the encore, where Ru-kun had tried to weasel his female bandmates into singing the encore song, insisting it was made for a female vocalist. They summarily denied him, so he ended up singing the song himself, called Misery Business. It’s one of Nanbi’s favorite performances, and one Ru-kun hasn’t done since.

Even Maki and Kugisaki are begrudgingly impressed.

“He sounds like a male Hayley Williams— that’s so fucking unfair,” Kugisaki denounces, despairing. “Why does that bastard have to be good at everything, seriously.”

“The outfit is pretty spot on too, if he just dyed his hair, it’d be a great cosplay.” Maki agrees, sourly.

“Does he play anything else from Riot?” Kugsaki rounds on him. “What about That’s What You Get?”

Nanabi looks up at her helplessly. “Sorry, I don’t think so. But they apparently have a ton of unreleased stuff though, so maybe I just haven’t heard it.”

Apparently back when No Scrubs was truly an underground band playing random shows at dive bars, they had an insanely large setlist. Most of those songs never made it onto any of the official recordings. He’s heard rumors online that there’s a vinyl floating around, but aside from a single interview with All Might, has no real confirmation of its existence.

“I think it’s awesome that Sensei has an alternate personality as a rockstar,” Yuuji enthuses, looking rather fond and indulgent as he stares down at Ru-kun strutting across a stage. “I hope it’s more relaxing than being The Strongest all the time.”

Nanabi blinks at him. “Oh. He’s that too.”

The Jujutsu Tech students stare at him blankly. “... What?”

As it turns out, they’re all collectively more confused and bewildered by the whole Sixwings thing than they are the ‘world’s strongest’ thing. In this world, since the moment of his birth Gojo Satoru was always meant to be the strongest. That he can destroy armies in the blink of an eye and pull out purple-laser-death-beams-of-doom (apparently a technique called Hollow Purple in this world) and walk through explosions unscathed is just common knowledge among the Jujutsu World.

So all of his footage of Dabi’s many international exploits was met with a genial disinterest.

His media folder of Sixwings, however…

“He’s… really in a relationship?” Kugisaki looks utterly confounded. “A normal, healthy, longterm relationship?”

“He’s getting married?” Maki sounds bewildered.

“He has a kid?” Fushiguro sounds unimpressed.

Panda scratches his chin. “Huh. Hey, that’s good for him! He sounds like he’s actually a well-adjusted and normal guy.”

“Is his boyfriend a psychopath?” Kugisaki asks, urgently. “I really can’t see how else this would work out.”

“Not at all! Hawks is well-known as a very charming and friendly hero. He’s actually a really good guy.” Nanabi protests.

Kugisaki squints at him. “How the hell does he put up with him then?”

Nanabi smiles sheepishly. “Uh… he’s pretty easygoing I guess?”

Maki is leaning over him for a better look at his phone, using her fingers to zoom in on the photo he has up of Hawks and Ru-kun at the U.A. School Festival. He doesn’t swing that way, but even he has to admit they looked really good that day. And with Eri thrown in on top of it? It’s no wonder they’re regularly voted as the cutest couple in Japan.

“Damn. They actually look really good together.” Maki says, begrudging.

“Tuna, tuna.” Inumaki pokes Panda in the side.

Panda gives a solemn nod. “Inumaki-kun has a good point. What’s all this gossip about a Sixwings baby?”

“Oh, that’s Eri-chan.” Nanabi scrolls down to a better photo of her. There’s one from the Ru-kun signing event at Tower Records, where a sinfully good-looking Ru-kun is holding her on his hip and waving out to the crowds. “She’s the child he birthed from his own body.”

Fushiguro blinks rapidly. “He what now?”

“He’s fucking with you.” Kugisaki denies immediately.

Nanabi shrugs. “Maybe— but no one knows for sure! To be honest, none of his powers make much sense to us, so some people believe it and others don’t.”

Maki’s expression turns worried. “Well, they’re not all that clear to us either… I mean, there’s a lot you can do with cursed energy…”

She glances up at Panda. Panda just gives her a thumbs up. “That’s right! I mean, I exist, so who knows!”

“There’s a couple different rumors about it, but none are confirmed.” Nanabi fills them in with a gleeful expression. “The main one is that she really is the Sixwings baby, and they had her when they were teenagers and kept it a secret. There’s also a couple variations where Eri is his child, but the regular way, but he’s slept with a lot of people and none of them were women so people are pretty skeptical about it. Then there’s also the theory that he did birth her from his own body, but not with Hawks. There’s no real guesses on who her father is for that one.”

His companions look at him with varying degrees of incredulity. Nanabi spreads his hands. “The likely answer is he’s just messing with everyone and she’s adopted, but like I said, we really don’t know!”

Itadori doesn’t really seem to care about the truth either way, grabbing at his phone to scroll through the photos. “They’re so cute together! Haha, she really kind of even does look like sensei a little bit! She’s definitely just as stylish as he is!”

Itadori keeps scrolling until he gets to the infamous Swing incident, saved in all its glory in an endless gif format.

They all stare in silence as, on screen, Gojo Satoru gets KO’d by his kid on a swing set over and over again.

“Send me that.” Kugisaki demands.

Scrubstan22 gets rescued eventually. It’s a pretty boring affair, truth be told. He didn’t see any real curses, or any kind of fighting.

Gojo doesn’t return to campus until long after the sun has set, to the bizarre scene of all his students shoving their phones at poor Nanami, who looks as if he regretted ever coming in person to turn in his paperwork. They’re apparently trying to show Nanami photos of Gojo in drag, despite his vocal protests. The moment they lay eyes on him they pounce on him instead. None of their explanations make any sense. There’s something about him being a rockstar, and also married, and apparently a mother, and they have plenty of blurry photo evidence they try to shove at him. It looks like they all took photos of someone else’s screenshots, so the quality leaves much to be desired. Maybe if he squints really hard, that does kind of look like him in a mini skirt, but who’s to say really?

Unfortunately for the students, the space-time continuum rights itself overnight and they all lose their collective memory of Scrubstan22 and his alternate-universe. But the digital evidence remains, and occasionally Kugisaki will pull out her phone and watch a very random gif of Gojo-sensei getting smacked to the ground by a kid on a swing, and while she has no idea where it came from, she draws immense satisfaction from it anyway.

#mdnsy oneshots #fic may death never stop you

235 notes · View notes

elliesbelle · 1 year ago

Text

nobody compares to you

chapter 9

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you're in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?

content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, descriptions of and allusions to physical altercations and violence, descriptions of alcohol, dealer!ellie, more loser!ellie, mentions of smoking and marijuana, ellie's POV, minors do not interact

word count: 3.7k

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen

series masterlist

my masterlist

i have a ko-if if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

the "nobody compares to you" spotify playlist

featuring the song “it might be you” by stephen bishop:

Four Days Ago

“Ellie, what the fuck! Oh, shit!”

“The fuck! Th-the fuck…is your problem!”

“Shit! Ellie!”

“Chang, get…this–fuck!–cunt…off of me!”

“El–ow! Ellie!”

“I heard what you fucking said to my girl!”

“What are–shit…motherfucker!”

“Ellie, stop!”

“You..fucking…cunt!”

“Yo, bro, get the fuck off of her!”

“Is that…all…you…can do?!”

“Alright, fuck! Enough! Stop!”

Two Days Ago

Ellie had been walking around campus with her hood over her head and eyes to the ground all day. She’d been ignoring calls & texts from her friends and clients and, to her growing annoyance, Daniela. She’d attended all her classes, but she’d sit as far back as possible and avoid any interactions or eye contact. During her breaks, she’d find some remote spot behind a building or in a secluded stairwell to smoke in private.

It was late afternoon now and Ellie’d just dashed out of her last class of the day. She didn’t want to go home to her apartment where she’d get ambushed by Jesse and, most likely as well, Dina. But she had nowhere else to loiter where she’d be able to sulk and smoke in peace, and her phone was also dying.

The walk to her and Jesse’s apartment was barely ten minutes from campus, but Ellie made sure to stretch it out to almost twenty. She walked four flights of stairs instead of taking the elevator like she usually would. She couldn’t even hear the jingling of her keys over the deafening sounds of Kendrick Lamar blasting in her earphones as she unlocked the front door.

The previous evening felt completely surreal. Ellie would have assumed it was just some rage-induced nightmare if it weren’t for the throbbing pain in her black eye and bruised right hand. After Jesse was able to pry Frat Guy Adam off of her before he could do any real damage and hastily convince him that she was probably tripping off of this strong new strain she got, Ellie immediately shut herself in her bedroom for the rest of the night. The only thing Jesse could get out of her before she disappeared behind her door was, “I seriously can’t fucking believe she’s letting her fuck her again.”

As Ellie crossed the doorway of the apartment, the second verse of “HUMBLE.” was abruptly yanked out of her ears by Dina’s quick fingers.

“Jesus fuck—Dina!” Ellie fussed, irritated as she attempted to grab her earphones back.

Dina said nothing as she balled them up and shoved them into her back pocket.

“How the fuck did you even know I was coming?” Ellie grumbled, knowing full well that she, Dina, and Jesse all indefinitely shared their respective locations with each other on their phones.

“Let’s talk, El.” Dina merely sighed.

Ellie scoffed in response and held out her hand.

“Can I have my earphones back?” She asked.

“No.”

“Seriously?”

“Ellie, we need to talk!”

Ellie didn’t reply as she stomped off towards her bedroom. She was about to slam the door in Dina’s face when she was met with Jesse’s back turned to her with sandpaper in one hand and a paint scraper in the other.

“Uhh, what the fuck, dude?” Ellie asked, dropping her backpack on top of her desk.

“I knew you’d leave your knife in here for the next two months or so if I didn’t do anything about it.” Jesse replied, sanding down the area where the knife once was lodged into the wall.

Dina leaned against the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Told him that you were too attached to that thing to not yank it out yourself, but he insisted on doing it and cleaning up your mess. As per usual.” Dina said, motioning to the small bucket of white plaster by Jesse’s feet.

“Yeah, I’m not cleaning all that up, though.” Jesse said, gesturing to all the dust now covering a portion of the bedroom floor.

Ellie shrugged off her hoodie and hung it on the back of a chair. She spotted her now-unstuck switchblade on top of some books on her desk and quickly pocketed it.

“Okay, well, can you guys maybe get out of my room now?” Ellie huffed, collapsing lazily onto her bed before grabbing a comic book on her bedside table that she had previously been reading the night before.

“We can,” Dina replied. “But we’re not going to.”

Ellie rolled her eyes and flipped a page.

Jesse and Dina shared a collective look and a heavy sigh.

“Dude, we gotta talk about yesterday.” Jesse insisted. “You seriously can’t keep ignoring this.”

“What the fuck even happened, really?” Dina asked.

“What, this one didn’t tell you?” Ellie replied, nodding towards Jesse’s direction without looking up from her comic book.

“All he told me is that you got your shit rocked by some frat guy trying to buy from you.”

“Hey!” Ellie said, sitting up and throwing her hands up in the air in indignation. “I fucked him up!”

“Then why do you have a black eye?” Dina questioned.

Ellie grumbled something unintelligible and sat back down to return to reading. Dina rolled her eyes.

“All I did was introduce him to her and she just suddenly wailed on him.” Jesse explained to Dina.

“I already knew who the fuck he was.” Ellie said behind her comic book.

“Oh shit, yeah,” Jesse recalled. “She did say she remembered him, and then she went nuts.”

“Who was this again?” Dina asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“Adam Patterson from Sigma Eta.” Jesse replied.

“Yeah, I have no idea who that is.” Dina admitted.

“He came with our group to the diner the other night after the party,” Jesse said at the same time that Ellie said, “He was at Sterling’s with us.”

Dina’s knitted eyebrows straightened out in recognition.

“Oh, wait, was he that douchebag that sat next to—”

“Yes.” Ellie interrupted angrily.

Jesse and Dina immediately shared a look.

“Does this have anything to do with Abby Anderson?” Dina asked Ellie.

“Wait, what about Anderson?” Jesse questioned, eyebrows furrowing.

“You didn’t tell him?”

“Tell me wh—“ Jesse started but was cut off when his phone started buzzing furiously.

He took out his phone from his back pocket and frowned.

“Ah shit,” He muttered. “I gotta help Sidney set up with the open mic.”

“Now?” Dina asked.

“It’s every other Tuesday and I promised her.” Jesse shrugged.

He walked over to Dina to give her a quick peck on the lips before turning towards Ellie, pointing at her sharply.

“When I get back, I want to hear why the hell you’ve lost your goddamn mind.” He demanded of her before leaving the room. A few seconds passed before they heard the front door close behind him.

Dina sighed, uncrossed her arms, and strolled over to sit at the foot of Ellie’s bed. She unconcernedly shoved Ellie’s dirty Converse to the side, earning her a kick from Ellie which she easily dodged.

“Can you stop assaulting every single person you come across, Williams?” Dina said after slapping the foot that tried to punt her.

“Can you get out of my room?” Ellie asked, ignoring her question.

“Did you really try to beat the shit out of that Adam guy ‘cause of—“

“Why are we still talking about this?” Ellie immediately interjected.

“Because you’re out here attacking innocent people because of her!”

Ellie remained quiet as she sat up straight and placed her comic book back on her nightstand before replying.

“He called her a fucking queer, D.”

Dina blinked and stared at her.

“He did what?”

“When we were at Sterling’s the other night.”

“Oh, shit.” Dina whispered. “Okay, well, maybe not so innocent then.”

“No, he’s fucking not.” Ellie seethed, fists clenching.

“Okay, but it’s not really helping anyone if you get kicked out of school ‘cause you’re out here beating the shit out of some grade-A douchebag who most definitely deserved it,” Dina added, seeing that Ellie was about to interrupt. “Are you really that pissed off that she’s seeing Abby Anderson?”

“She can see whoever the fuck she wants. It’s really none of my business.” Ellie replied stubbornly.

“Ellie, c’mon, when are you going to face your fucking feelings for her for once?” Dina said. “You couldn’t man the fuck up when you were together, and now you don’t even speak to each other and you still won’t admit it.”

“Sorry that I’m too emotionally constipated for you.”

Dina rolled her eyes but then suddenly giggled.

“What?” Ellie asked.

“That’s probably the first time that you haven’t corrected me on the fact that you were together.”

Ellie kicked her softly.

“Oh, shut up.” Ellie retorted.

Yesterday

“You need to wrap that shit up better, El.” Dina said, gesturing to Ellie’s poorly bandaged right hand.

The sun was beginning to set, and Dina and Ellie’s shadows glided alongside each other on the brick pathway. Pink rays of light peeking from the sky hit Ellie’s freckles so beautifully that it almost distracted from her bruised eye.

“What? It’s fine.” Ellie shrugged.

“The wraps are already coming off, dumbass.” Dina noted.

“My bad, I’m not studying to be a doctor, unlike some people.” Ellie said, quickly murmuring the last part.

Dina merely rolled her eyes at this, refusing to engage further in Ellie’s growing vendetta against Abby Anderson.

They walked for about another ten minutes to reach the diner, chatting nonsensically about their classes and friends and some new asshole clients that Ellie had recently acquired.

Ellie had Dina laughing about her secretly charging some senior jock douchebags twice as much as usual for shamelessly hitting on her when they walked through the doors of Sterling’s. Ellie suddenly felt a strange ache in her stomach as they entered the restaurant. When she felt wary eyes on her, her discomfort was immediately explained.

Her gaze unintentionally met yours, her ocean green eyes widening in shock. The expression on your face mirrored her thoughts as her freckles turned bright pink. You both turned to your friends simultaneously in panic.

“Dina, what the fuck!” Ellie hissed.

“What?” Dina said, not realizing the situation they’d walked into.

“Did you do this shit on purpose?” Ellie demanded of her.

“What the hell are you going on about?” Dina asked, still clueless as she was busy looking around for the diner’s hostess.

“Can you please use your eyes for one second?”

“Wh—” Dina began but stopped suddenly when she saw what had caught Ellie’s rapt attention.

“Goddamn it,” Dina muttered. “Alright, hang on.”

Ellie watched as Dina marched over to the small table where you and Jesse were having dinner. Her eyes fell on you once more, remembering the last time she saw you with Abby Anderson. She suddenly felt a pang of guilt wash over her when she thought about the last conversation you’d had in the bathroom of this same diner, her eyes tearing away from your figure to stare at her old Converse.

God, I’m such a fucking dickhead.

She teetered back and forth on her feet as she felt shame seeping through her bones. She didn’t look back up until the diner’s hostess approached her.

“Hi, how many in your party?” She asked.

“Oh, uh, no. I’m here for pick-up?” Ellie replied.

“Oh gotcha, what’s the name?”

“It should be under Dina Woodward.”

“Okay! One second, ma’am.”

Ellie watched as the hostess headed to the back as Dina made her way back towards her.

“What the hell, D?” Ellie hissed.

“Seriously, I didn’t know!” Dina replied, throwing her hands up defensively.

“This isn’t funny!”

“El, I swear to god, I really had no idea they were gonna be meeting here.”

“You didn’t tell me that Jesse was hanging out with her tonight!”

“That didn’t seem like information relevant to you.” Dina said, crossing her arms.

“How is it not—”

“She’s not your fucking girlfriend, Ellie.” Dina pointed out.

Ellie looked taken aback as the hostess reappeared before them.

“Order for Dina Woodward?” She said, holding out a plastic bag.

“Yes?” Dina replied, but before she could reach for the food, Ellie had already grabbed it with her left hand and angrily shoved the entrance door open with her right.

She stomped away from the diner several feet away before Dina could catch up to her, far away enough for Dina not to catch the tears that she struggled to keep from falling.

Present Day

Ellie lays on her sheets, head at the foot of her bed and dinosaur sock-covered feet propped up on one of her pillows. She was senselessly and poorly strumming on her guitar. It was Friday evening and she was bored and all alone in the apartment, Jesse and Dina having gone out together on a movie date. She had contemplated going to the gym as she usually did whenever she was in a mood, but Dina had reprimanded her about her injured state enough that Ellie relented on spending a lonely night in. She strums lousily on the guitar with her injured hand, ignoring the throbbing of her wounded knuckles.

She’d finally texted Daniela back earlier that day, apologizing spiritlessly for not replying back sooner. She humoured Daniela’s flirty texts for a while until Ellie asked for Joel’s old jacket back, to which Daniela offered to come over to her apartment tonight to return. Feeling her intent, Ellie put her off by saying she had plans to meet up with several new clients all night and offered to meet up with her the next day instead. Ellie’d groaned when Daniela quickly responded with a text saying “it’s a date ;)” and immediately regretted the situation she’d pulled herself into.

Her fingers begin mindlessly plucking a succession of concordant chords, and it isn’t until a few moments later that she realizes she’d started to play an old love song that she remembers you’d liked so much.

It was an old 80s song called “It Might Be You” by Stephen Bishop. She’d often hear you thoughtlessly humming it to yourself or singing along to it when you’d put on your nearly ten-hour 80s playlist. She’d subsequently learned how to play it on the guitar to possibly serenade you with it eventually, only to never have the courage to do so when you were together.

Ellie exhales woefully, setting her guitar down next to her.

Why is she still everywhere?

She sits up to properly lay herself on her bed, flopping her head down onto her pillow before reaching for her phone that was charging on her nightstand.

Time to be a loser as usual again, Williams.

She sighs pathetically as she opens up Instagram once more, switching from her main account back over to br!ck_master2013. Even though Instagram already showed her recent searches (consisting only of you), she feels a pathetic sense of fulfillment typing out your entire username herself. Ellie taps on that same mirror selfie of yours which leads her to your profile.

You still have no new posts from the last time she checked, but she sees that you’d added something to your story sometime within the past day. She ignores the uneasiness in her stomach as she taps on the orange and purple circle to view what you’d posted.

You’d shared a few mutual aid posts earlier this morning (to which Ellie promptly saves to later donate to after her slight stalking), a picture that some of your old high school friends had posted of an up-and-coming band they were currently in, and a couple of new stories that causes Ellie to abruptly shoot up from her bed and promptly unplugging her phone from the wall.

“What the fuck?” She mutters out loud to herself, not in reference to the unceremonious way she stopped charging her phone, but to the Instagram stories that you were posting in real time.

Ellie taps furiously as she realizes that you were out tonight at the lesbian bar by campus, the Bow and Arrow. With Abby Anderson.

She makes a wild guess that you were likely drunk at the moment, judging by the silliness of your story captions. Your first bar-related story is a selfie you’d taken of yourself with the caption, “me going out to a bar to get smacked instead of being an old lady at home? quick, someone call the pope.” Despite the low lights of your environment, Ellie recognizes the shade of dark red lipstick you’re wearing.

That’s the lipstick she was wearing when—

Her thoughts are interrupted by her app automatically jumping to the next story, which was of you toasting your half-empty plastic cup with others that were being held up by faceless hands with the caption, “liquor, i hardly know her.” Ellie couldn’t help but chuckle out loud at your stupid joke. She would have bet her Jeep, her whole stash of weed, her beloved switchblade, and her entire precious comic book collection that the drink you had in your hand was a vodka cranberry.

Your next Instagram story drops a cast steel anvil down Ellie’s stomach.

It was a shaky picture of Abby Anderson making a mockingly pouty face towards the camera, holding out a credit card in one of her hands. It looked as if she and you were sitting at the bar, waiting to be served by a bartender. Your caption read, “hey siri, how do you beat up a buff, jacked lesbian who lives at the gym and won’t stop paying for your drinks all night.”

Ellie notices that you’d tagged Abby’s Instagram handle on the side and she promptly taps on it with trembling fingers. She huffs at her phone when she’s brought to Abby’s profile and sees that it’s set to private. She falls back onto her pillow and sighs.

“Ellie!!” You yelled after her as she stomped out of the Bow and Arrow.

She said nothing as she exited the bar and veered left into an empty backstreet lit only by the moonlight and a dim streetlamp.

Ellie walked further into the alleyway until she was a safe distance from any passersby. She took out a metal tin from one of her jacket’s front pockets and pulled out a tightly-wrapped joint. She tucked it between her teeth as she reached into a front pocket in her jeans for a lighter, promptly lighting the tip of the joint. She inhaled for a few seconds, letting the drug seep throughout her enraged body, then released an exhale towards the starry night sky.

She heard the agitated clicking of high heels and glanced down towards the main street to inspect whoever was approaching her. You were rubbing your hands up and down your arms, your favourite black boots nearly skipping down the alleyway to desperately generate heat in the frigid, unforgiving December air. You followed the familiar scent of lavender-laced marijuana into the dark street, spotting Ellie smoking alone.

Ellie watched as your shivering figure walked towards her, your despondent eyes eventually reaching her furious green ones.

“Smoking one of my js without me?” You teased.

“Your js?” Ellie asked, chuckling despite herself.

“Well, it’s my recipe.” You said, yanking the joint from her fingertips to place it between your lips which were painted with a dark shade of red.

“Oh, please, all you do is add buds of crushed lavender into them.” Ellie scoffed as the tip of the joint lit up once more from you taking a hit of it.

“Lavender buds are a key ingredient to creating these primo joints. It’s an intricate part of the process; ergo it is a recipe.” You insisted after blowing the residual smoke to the side.

“Besides,” You added. “You talk a whole lot of smack for someone who seems to copy my recipe all the time now, both for her clients and for herself.”

Ellie would have usually bantered with a witty retort, but she instead settled for an indignant huff.

After a few more hits, you handed the joint back to her.

“You done?” She asked you.

“Mhmm.”

She nodded, putting out the joint on the wall she was leaning against and placing what was left of it back in her metal tin. You stared at her as she did this, noticing that she was purposely refusing to make eye contact with you.

“Els.” You said.

“Mm?”

“Show me your hand.” You sigh.

“No.”

“El, babe, come on.” You insisted.

She exhaled and relented when her cheeks blushed at the term of endearment, holding out her right hand to you.

You took it in between both of yours, attempting to examine it under the dull yellowish light of the streetlamp. Your fingertips softly brush against her knuckles.

“Okay, not so bruised thankfully.” You murmured. “Does it hurt?”

Ellie merely shrugged in response.

“Els…” You whined at her stubbornness.

“I’m fine.”

You stared at her serious expression, still unable to get her to look at you.

“You dummy.” You chuckled lightly.

Ellie huffed.

You stroked her hand a couple more times before lightly placing a kiss on her slightly injured knuckles.

Despite the frigid winter air, Ellie immediately felt every part of her go up in flames. The only chilly part of her body was her hand which you’d brushed your cold lips against just moments before.

“Here,” She said, pulling her hand away from you so she could shrug off Joel’s old motorcycle jacket from her shoulders and place it on yours. “Baby, you’re fucking freezing.”

“El—”

“You’re freezing.” She repeated.

You smiled slightly before caving in to say, “Maybe a little bit.” Ellie chuckled.

“Elliie…” You began. “You didn’t have to do all that—”

“I know.”

“But—”

“I know.”

You tried to decipher her unreadable expression, your heart ready to burst as it beat rapidly in your chest.

“Why, Ellie? Why’d you have to take it to that extreme?”

Ellie’s ocean-green eyes were fierce and resolved. She brings her mildly bruised hand up to your face to intimately caress your cheek.

“You know why.” She whispers, finally meeting your gaze.

“I—”

The memory of staring into your eyes causes Ellie’s own to shoot open.

She’s still in her room, laying on her bed all alone with her phone on her chest and guitar on her side. The images of you in the alleyway of the Bow and Arrow replay alongside those of you and Abby so boldly displayed on your Instagram story tonight.

Ellie remains so engrossed in her own thoughts that she doesn’t notice all the hot tears rapidly streaming down her face. She grips her sheets and sighs.

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” She whispers to no one.

Maybe she’ll forgive me one day.

author’s notes:

so sorry for taking so long to write this! life has been hectic and messy lately, plus y’all know i’m a bit insecure about writing ellie.

thank me by liking and reblogging this because tumblr is acting tf up on my laptop and i had to do the majority of this on my phone

adam's name originally was a reference to a background character in tlou2, but his last name is loosely inspired by some asshole dude i dated once back in college named adam (who i kind of also home-wrecked but i really don't regret doing so lol)

anyway, while you’re here, go check out the new smau series i’m working on called “almost like we knew” ♡︎

taglist: @lonelyfooryouonly, @elliesinterlude, @sawaagyapong, @peppesgirl, @iconsoft, @maybeidohaveadhd, @ellieswifee, @valiantllamapersonpony-blog, @nil-eena, @echostinn

@uraesthete, @softbunlvr, @cherriesxinthespring, @amitycat, @thefishymissy, @yevheniiaaaa, @machetegirl109, @bertandfearnie, @ximtiredx, @efam

@elliesnumber1gf, @digit4lslut, @tayyyystan, @emothurman, @livvy-2000, @abigaillovestoread, @gold-dustwomxn, @liabadoobee, @yuckyfucky, @qtefolleunpez

@libr4sonsa, @17luv, @robinismywifee, @villainousbear, @ashlynnnnnnnn15, @scarlettadore, @vianna99, @g0n3girls, @totheblood, @embermdk

@awyunh, @kenz-ee, @marvelwomen-simp, @eleactric, @simpforellie, @omgidksblog, @anxiouso, @nyrastar, @lillysbigwilly, @hopeless-y

@elliesbabygirl, @alexpritch, @thestarsanctuary, @aethelwyneleigh27, @cass00x, @liabadoobee, @mulan-but-gay, @carmellie, @destielcore, @tfuuka

@elliewilliamsmissingfingerss, @sagestuffing, @ewwitsbella, @igoferalforelliewilliams, @miaelliesgfxoxo, @saturnvalentine, @elysiagyaru, @asteroidzzzn, @gay4jinx, @97cityy

@joliettes, @p1llowthoughtss, @ellieslegalwife

#nobody compares to you series #ellie williams #dealer!ellie #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #the last of us #tlou #the last of us part 2 #tlou2 #ellie fanfiction #Spotify #audio #belle speaks #belle writes

704 notes · View notes

thedroneranger · 10 months ago

Text

Need a Favor

Rhett Abbott

Synopsis: Rhett does more than hurt his shoulder when he's bucked off a bull during competition. While his wellbeing is in question, your biggest hurdles are his family and his pesky ex that constantly call you into question.

Notes: My first foray outside Top Gun. I've had this kicking around for quite a while and finally got the inspiration to finish it. It felt Rhett-Outer Range coded, so here we are! Influenced by the Jelly Roll song Need a Favor.

Warnings: Bull riding, religion; religious inaccuracies; medical inaccuracies; mentions of blood.

Word count: 5.3k.

The arena was electric. The cheers of the crowd, the clattering of the chutes, the grunts of the bulls. There had to be more people in this arena than in all of Wyoming.

Then it died.

The silence was deafening. My eyes never left his slumped form as I charged down the stands. People parted like the Red Sea, allowing me the most direct route. My legs were gracious, bracing me as I dropped the eight feet into the arena and then sprinted toward him.

The medics had yet to arrive and the wranglers stood back as I approached. I dropped to my knees at Rhett’s side. His body was contorted in an unnatural position. His hat on the ground beside him—crumpled. Blood trickled from his hairline.

It would be a miracle if he didn’t break his back. “Rhett? Baby?” My fingers trembled as I reached out to touch his shoulder. He didn’t move. My vision began to blur, and I did my best to contain the tears threatening at my waterline. Still shaking, I pressed two fingers on his neck just below his jaw. My entire body untensed as I felt a thready pulse. “He has a pulse,” I stated to myself.

Then I saw it.

A sizable puddle of blood. Panicked, I pushed him over to find the stain on his shirt blossoming near the bottom edge of his vest. Without a second thought, I shoved my hand between his vest and shirt until I felt a tear in the fabric and then jagged flesh the wound.

The medics arrived and pulled me out of the way. One of the chute hands held me by the elbows as we watched Rhett be braced and loaded onto a stretcher. Then she handed me off to a paramedic who helped me into the ambulance.

I sat quietly and watched the medic fuss over Rhett. He was stable—for now. “Do you want to hold his hand?” The man offered. All I could do was stare at him as I balled my hand—the drying blood pulling at my skin. Clad in rubber gloves, the medic tucked Rhett’s hand in mine.

Sitting in the ambulance, clutching his hand, my vision began to blur again. Warm streaks painted my cheeks, and I felt the droplets as they leapt from my jaw. Tears dotted my jeans.

The medic was doing his best to soothe me while monitoring Rhett. His voice was white noise as I gazed at Rhett. He hadn’t moved. His mouth didn’t twitch. His eyes didn’t dart behind his lids. He didn’t squeeze my hand.

Thankfully they had slowed the bleeding, but he was steadily soaking through gauze.

It all felt surreal as we arrived at the hospital, exited the ambulance, and I stood in the hallway as his gurney disappeared through the emergency surgery doors.

A breath left my body I had no idea I had been holding. Feeling was returning to my fingers and toes—reality setting in. All that was left was to wait. Wait to hear if Rhett made it out of surgery. Wait to hear if or how this would alter Rhett’s life.

Remembering I had a hand caked in blood, I looked for the nurses station. One of the nurses kindly took me to a bathroom and helped me scrub clean. She also pilfered me a scrub top. We put my stained shirt into the biohazard bin.

Back in the waiting room, still shaky, I dug my cell phone out of my pocket. Just as I was heading to find a seat, I heard a familiar voice. “Hey! Hold on!” I turned to see the medic hurrying toward me. I kept eye contact as he approached. “I wanted to make sure you got these.”

At his side, Rhett’s vest hung in one hand and my rosary sat in the palm of his other. Once it registered it was my rosary, my eyes widened. I looked between him and his palm. Then I then held out mine and he deposited the beads into it. “Thank you.” I had the smallest smile.

“You’re welcome.” He nodded, handed me the vest, and then continued back to his rig.

I clutched the beads as I turned to continue further into the waiting room. Finding a somewhat secluded corner, I tucked the vest beside my chair and pulled out my phone. My eyes trained on my screen, scanned the list of Abbotts in my contacts. Ultimately, I decided to call the house in hopes Cecilia would pick up.

My heart rate increased with each ring, and then…voicemail. Quickly, I punched the end button before dropping my phone in my lap. I plopped my rosary on top of it, and used both hands to rub my temples.

What was my next move?

Coffee.

Coffee was the next move. Then maybe I would have the gumption, and the gusto, to try Cecilia again—or call Royal.

This hospital was too small and too archaic for those fancy coffee vending machines. So I headed to the nurses station where the charge nurse pointed me in the direction of the cafeteria.

Nearing 10 p.m., the cafeteria was sparsely populated. A doctor here and there trying to conceal themselves, hoping for 15 minutes alone. A few workers were in the serving area, refreshing the limited offerings. A smile pulled my lips as I spotted the coffee.

While I paid for my drink, I heard the rain. Not just a light drizzle but a steady drumming of water. I stepped into the dining area and noticed the far end was a solarium. The rain streaked down the glass, distorting the view. Soothed by the sound, I walked over.

Sipping my coffee, I stared into the distance. I bet on a sunny day, it was a beautiful garden. Patients milling around with their visitors or their therapists coaching them through their post-op movement quota.

Maybe Rhett would be out there soon. Wobbling around with a cane or a walker under the watchful eye of a nurse or PT. Cussing under his breath because he “doesn’t need any help” but too polite to say anything aloud. I chuckled to myself as I turned to head back to the waiting room. The coffee was helping, but I still didn’t want to talk to Rhett’s family.

Somehow Cecilia was the least threatening Abbott. Hilarious, considering the first time I came to meet the Abbotts and have dinner Cecilia wouldn’t let me into the house. She and Rhett had a standoff—whisper bickering on the front porch and all. It was only when her granddaughter Amy grabbed my hand that she, begrudgingly, let me in.

The Abbotts didn’t strike me as overly religious. There were the usual hints here and there—a crucifix on the wall in the dining room, a bible in the end table drawer beside the couch.

Cecilia proved to be the most faithful Abbott. She clearly believed in good and evil. Heaven and Hell. And to her, I was the devil. Brought into the Abbotts’ lives to test Rhett—lead him astray.

If I were to succeed, Rhett might move off the ranch. Maybe leave Wabang, entirely. Desert the family. Lord knows if he could stay healthy, he’d be one hell of a bull rider.

No matter what Cecilia thought of me, I needed to get a hold of her. Looking around the empty hallway, I stopped and pulled out my phone to try the house again. Still no answer. That woman really needed to get with the times and carry a cell phone.

Royal and I didn’t see eye-to-eye much, but Rhett was his son. I tapped his name and put the phone to my ear. I did my best to remain calm when he answered. Not wanting to waste anyone’s time, I first made sure he hadn’t already been contacted by the event staff or hospital.

Of course, Royal made a point to remind me Maria was listed as Rhett’s emergency contact and ask where she was in all this. I never knew how Maria managed to fly under the radar with the Abbotts. After all, we wanted the same things for Rhett. We both knew he could be doing so much more than mending fences and getting into bar fights.

Hell, the thought even crossed my mind to call Maria, but I couldn’t stomach her being here at the same time as the rest of the Abbotts and them doting on her. Plus, Rhett got quite warm under the collar when his family pitted us against one another.

Still unsure who would appear at the hospital, I was just glad that some of the Abbotts were en route. Feeling a little more at ease, I sipped my coffee as I pocketed my phone and wandered back to the waiting room.

My butt hadn’t even hit the cushion when someone was calling Rhett’s name. Immediately, I stood back up and made eye contact with whom I presumed to be the surgeon. “I’m here for Rhett Abbott!” I nearly tripped as I scrambled to the doctor.

“Next of kin?”

“Fiancée.” The lie rolled off my tongue so naturally. I backed it by giving my full name.

My heart felt like it was in my throat as I stared at the surgeon, waiting for him to continue. “That bull really did a number.” I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and crossed my arms.

I did my best to listen as the surgeon explained. They were following concussion protocol since Rhett bashed heads with the bull and packed dirt. And getting gored how Rhett did was a freak accident—competition bull horns were always filed blunt.

Overall, the damage to his internal organs appeared minimal. The bruising pain would take longer to subside than for the abrasions to heal. The only hiccup was Rhett still losing blood, so a vascular surgeon scrubbed in to assess him.

Willing myself to be more hopeful than disappointed as the trauma surgeon disappeared, I sighed and shuffled back to my seat.

It felt like an eternity as I finished my coffee and then stared into the bottom of the cup. Still no sign of the Abbotts, I decided to occupy myself by trekking back to the cafeteria.

The rain was still pounding as I, again, took time to fantasize out the window. As I turned to leave, I nearly bumped into an older man. We exchanged pleasantries as he profusely apologized.

“Coffee wouldn’t be the worst thing I wore today.” I tried to lighten the mood.

He eyed my scrub top and chuckled as he knelt on the floor for a second. “Does this belong to you?” He opened his palm to reveal my rosary. I shook my head as he deposited it into my hand.

“How many Hail Marys to forgive dropping it on the floor.”

“Well, that’s not my rodeo. I usually phone a friend.” I laughed softly at his response and thumbed the beads. “There’s a chapel on your way out if you want a few minutes to yourself. Or, if you want company, I’m happy to join you.” He paused. “I can also phone that friend.”

“Thank you.” I gave him a genuine smile. “I think I’ll spend some time one-on-one.” He nodded as we parted ways.

The chaplain wasn’t kidding when he said the chapel was hidden. The door was the same color as the sterile hospital wall. The only giveaway was the stained glass window, which read as a painting if you weren’t paying attention.

It was quaint. The front of the room was the focal point with a trio of stained glass panels. Raindrops ricocheted off the panes. I slid into the middle pew of the five rows. Still fiddling with my rosary, I stared at the windows.

Clutching my beads, I folded my hands in the back of the pew in front of me. Tears welled in my eyes as I thought about Rhett.

“Religion is more Ma’s thing, but the Sundays she does get me to church, it doesn’t seem to matter how you worship.” Oh, Rhett. The thought of his voice was comforting.

Suddenly a tear hit my wrist and I sucked in a breath. “Please don't let me lose him.” I mumbled between sobs. My forehead rested on the backs of my thumbs as I let my tears freely fall.

Once I felt empty, I sat back on the bench and slid each bead between my index and middle finger as I said the corresponding prayer. It was amazing what you could remember when it was beaten into you. A smile curled my lips as I thought about the first time Rhett realized the scarring across my knuckles and wrists were from rulers.

A single tear rolled down my cheek as I thought about the tenderness he showed as he kissed each of my knuckles and then my wrists. He made his way up my arms as he pulled me into his lap. Eventually my lips were on his with my arms wrapped around his neck.

“Fuck,” I said as tipped my head and rolled my eyes to keep the tears from continuing.

Just then, I heard the door. I turned to see Cecilia, of all people. It took all my might not to let loose a barking laugh.

I was more shocked when she slid into the pew beside me, leaving just a few inches of space between us. “Surprised it’s still standing? The altar isn’t on fire?” I joked.

She eyed the beads in my hands. “Isn’t that Rhett’s necklace?”

“It’s mine.” I paused for a second. “And it’s not a necklace, it’s a rosary. And I lent them to Rhett to protect him when he rides,” I added. She turned her head to look directly at me. “Blessed at the Vatican.” Her eyebrow jutted up the faintest bit.

I leaned slightly over toward her. “It’s the fallen ones that need a savior most, isn’t it?” I listened to the rain for a few seconds before continuing. “And we only talk to God when we need favors?” Rhett would hate that I was needling his mother but also be proud I was standing up for myself.

Cecilia broke eye contact as she thought about how to respond. Instead of words, she placed her hand over mine that was holding my rosary. I looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “Some of our prayers are the same.” She squeezed my hand as we bowed our heads. I followed her lead as we softly recited a prayer aloud.

We were through our first set of Hail Marys when Royal walked in. “There’s news.” We jumped up, hand-in-hand. Royal noticed our physical attachment but he didn’t say anything as he turned to lead us out.

Perry and Amy were standing in the waiting room with the surgeon I spoke to earlier. Royal had to support Cecilia as the surgeon delivered cautiously optimistic news. Instinctively, I squeezed the beads in my hand. “When can we see him?” I blurted out.

“He hasn’t woken up, but you can visit him one at a time.” Amy bounced on the balls of her feet. “You can go accompanied by an adult,” the surgeon added, looking at her with a smile. He then turned to look at me. “Fiancée first?” All the Abbotts exchanged looks but no one challenged the title.

“Yes,”I said quickly and then herded the surgeon away.

A hand on the door knob, he looked at me. “Are you ready?” Silently, I nodded. Then he pushed the door open, allowing me through first.

The room was soft lit and the only sound was Rhett’s heart monitor. Slowly, I walked to the bed. He looked peaceful. Tired but peaceful.

Taken with Rhett, I didn’t even realize the surgeon let himself out. Quietly, I walked to the bedside. Rhett didn’t move, except for the rise and fall of his chest. His breaths were deep and even.

They did their best to clean up his face. When he collided with the bull, it was face first so he ended up with a broken nose. The bruising was already apparent under his eyes. The stitches at his hairline were hardly noticeable.

After a few minutes, I softly sat on the edge of his bed and gently tucked a curl behind his ear. His eye twitched and my hand stilled. He didn’t respond further, so I slipped my hand into his and rubbed the back with my thumb.

I sighed, continuing to watch his face. Selfishly, I wanted to stay here all night with him. However, at the very least, his mother and Amy needed to see him.

With one last squeeze, I gently got off the bed and headed for the door. I looked back one more time before leaving.

After everyone had a chance to see Rhett, Royal and Perry decided to drive over and get Rhett’s truck from the arena.

Amy and I stayed in the waiting room while Cecilia sat with her son. Amy was in good spirits, although Rhett had yet to wake up. She succumbed to curiosity and asked a million questions about Rhett. I did my best to answer every one.

Finally, Perry and Royal returned. Trailing behind them was Maria. I stood as Amy ran over to greet her father. “I figured you would turn up here,” I said coldly to Maria as she stood directly in front of me.

She shrugged. “Well, they called me directly, so I figured I should stop by and check in.”

“Where’d you come from? The moon? How are you just arriving if you were the first call?” I asked. “Did you even bother to call the Abbotts?”

“Of course, I called Cecilia,” she explained. “But she wasn’t home, and Royal didn’t pick up.”

“And Perry?” I pressed her.

She lowered her voice. “I don’t call that piece of shit for anything.” She glared in his direction. “Isn’t it kind of weird Rhett hasn’t changed his emergency contact?” She looked back at me. “Maybe he wants to make sure it’s someone he can trust.” She smirked.

Before I could say anything, Perry approached us. He dropped Rhet’s truck keys in my hand. “Assuming you’re going to want to stay, being his fiancée and all.” I could feel the heat in my cheeks as he winked at me.

She tried not to appear obvious, but Maria’s eyes widened slightly and her gaze dropped to my hand. I could see her relax when she realized I wasn’t wearing a ring.

Just then, Royal, who had excused himself to say good night to Rhett and collect his wife, returned with Cecilia. “Maria!” Cecilia opened her arms to embrace her.

However, Cecilia was focused on me during the interaction. “You’ll update us as soon as you hear?” Royal held out Cecilia’s coat, coaxing her to part with Maria.

“Of course.” I nodded.

“We’ll plan to come back tomorrow afternoon,” Royal stated.

“I’ll swing by, too,” Maria added.

“Ooh! We can come together!” Cecilia added.

“Perfect.” Maria smiled.

It took all my energy to not roll my eyes. My attention was diverted when Amy threw herself at me, wrapping her arms around my waist. I smiled and hugged her back, kissing the top of her head.

I waited for them to disappear through the doors, and then made my way to Rhett’s room. Light was beginning to peek through his blinds. He was still sound asleep. I tried my best to be quiet as I pushed the little cushioned sitting chair as close as possible to his bedside. Once seated, I sipped my coffee and told him about the night with his family.

Eventually, I moved onto reminiscing about some of our shared memories. Feeling a little stiff, I changed positions, folding my legs under me in the chair and leaning forward so my stacked arms rested on the edge of his bed. With my chin resting on top of them, I watched him.

Just being there gave me a sense of peace. The adrenaline was wearing off. My eyelids felt so heavy, which reminded me that I was coming up on 24 hours without sleep. It wouldn’t hurt to rest my eyes…

Rhett and I were laying in one of the pastures on the Abbott ranch. A beautiful day, the sun was warm on our faces. The back of Rhett’s fingers stroked my cheek, and I leaned into his touch. He kept saying my name as we looked at each other.

My eyes darted around behind my eyelids, and then shot open to see Rhett staring at me—he really was stroking my cheek and saying my name. Basking in his touch, I leaned into his fingers. The tiniest smile pulled a corner of his mouth.

“Rhett.” I sounded groggy. He rasped my name in response. Leaning into his fingers one more time, I pulled away to get him his water cup beside his bed.

After a few timid sips, he was damn near chugging. “Whoa, slow down. It’s not going anywhere.” He smiled as I put his cup back on the bedside table and sat down. Rhett brushed his finger along mine. In response, I put my hand over his.

I could feel the tears building. “I’m so glad you’re ok.” I leaned down and kissed the back of his palm.

“Me, too.” He did his best to hold my hand. After a minute he said, “What’d I miss?” Clearly, his sarcasm hadn’t been broken. I couldn’t help but smile.

We enjoyed each other’s company until a nurse came to check his vitals and realized he was awake. Then I stood beside his bed and held his hand while nurses and doctors poked and prodded and questioned him. Rhett remained calm throughout the entire process—might’ve been the morphine.

Once the doctor was satisfied, the nurses continued to work, so I stepped out to get another coffee and call Cecilia, as promised. Again hoping to reach her directly, I called the house line. She answered on the first ring. She was holding back tears as I updated her. It was the first time I heard sheer happiness in the woman’s voice.

I soaked in every minute I could alone with Rhett. I was torn between giving Rhett a heads up about Maria or letting him find out when she sashayed into his room. “Rhett?” I was cross-legged in the chair, leaning against the side of his bed and holding his hand.

He looked at me, waiting for me to continue. “Maria is coming to see you.”

“What?” Surprise was evident in his voice.

I took a deep breath before continuing. “She’s still listed as your emergency contact, so she got a phone call to notify her you were injured,” I explained. “She showed up last night well after visiting hours.” He scoffed. “And Cecilia invited her back today.”

Rhett groaned and shifted a little. “I can’t believe her.”

My thumb soothed the back of his palm. “Maria is always trying to win you back.”

“I’m talking about my mother. She has to cut this shit out.” Rhett’s voice was tense, and I could feel it in his fingers.

“Don’t worry about them, Rhett.” We locked eyes. “It’ll be fine. I only mentioned it so that you weren’t completely caught off guard.”

“Thank you,” he said quietly. A smile pulled the one corner of my mouth as I placed my free hand over our clasped ones.

We sat in silence until Amy bound through the door. “Uncle Rhett!” Both their faces lit up as she ran over. She hugged me after she came around the bed. Amy was small enough, I hoisted her onto Rhett’s bed to carefully hug him and then hold his hand.

She was chattering a mile a minute when Cecilia and Royal came in. After greeting them, I excused myself to get a coffee.

As luck would have it, Maria was arriving. “Too scared to be in a room with me?” she asked.

“Mhmm, I don’t like the smell of trash.”

She audibly laughed. “Your insults mean nothing” We held eye contact. “The Abbotts love me. And I know them like the back of hand. I can play ‘em like fiddles.” She scanned my face for a reaction—I remained stoic.

“Cecilia thinks you’re the devil,” she continued. “Trying to lure her baby off the ranch.”

“And what exactly is it that she thinks you’re doing?” I retorted.

Maria smiled and shrugged. “I had my heyday. I wouldn’t possibly want to move away now. I’m ready to find a husband and settle down. I know there’s no place like Wabang.” Sarcasm colored her tone.

I laughed. “That’s for damn sure.”

“Good luck overcoming that.” She huffed and bumped my shoulder as she passed.

Just as she was about to cross the threshold into Rhett’s room, Cecilia popped out the door. It felt like slow motion as they collided. The lid popped off Maria’s coffee and scalding brown liquid dyed her baby pink blouse.

“Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry!” Cecilia cried. “Let’s get you cleaned up!” Cecilia took Maria by the elbow down the hall in the direction of the restrooms. Maria held the fabric away from skin as Cecilia muled her along.

A shake of my head, I continued to the cafeteria for my own beverage.

On my way back, I stopped in the almost hidden chapel. During my previous visit, I’d noticed the bowl of holy water and wanted to splash some on my rosary to cleanse it before giving it back to Rhett. It was the best I could do without a priest.

When I returned to Rhett’s room, Cecilia was sitting at his bedside. They were whispering in harsh tones. They immediately stopped as I entered. “I can leave.” I pointed a thumb over my shoulder.

“No, no!” A smidge of desperation in Rhett’s voice. “Ma was just leaving.” Cecilia stood and leaned down to place a chaste kiss on Rhett’s forehead.

She looked at me as she left. Her expression felt softer somehow. I waited until she completely exited the room before venturing over to my usual seat. Rhett immediately extended his hand.

“I have something for you.” His interest was piqued. “Hold out your hand.” He did as he was told and I dropped the beads into it.

“I was getting ready to ask the nurse about this.” He rubbed his thumb over the beads and closed his hand, bringing it to his heart.

“The EMT saved them,” I added.

“I think they saved me.” Rhett looked at me.

“I think modern medicine saved you.”

“Don’t go all evolution over creation on me, now,” he shot back. “You gave these to me for a reason.” He was right. I rolled my eyes and moved to press my lips to his. “Mhmm, you shut me up like that more often,” he said as we parted.

“Based on how hard you’re roasting me, it feels like you’ll be discharged any minute.”

Sure enough, by the end of the day, Rhett was being wheeled to the passenger door of his truck.

Once he was home, Cecilia became his caretaker. She and I did come to an understanding that included me pre-cooking meals for Rhett. I was skeptical when she extended the use of their kitchen to prepare them. However, I gladly accepted, and the very next night, we all sat down to a meal I cooked for everyone as a thank you.

“Before we dig in, how about we say grace?” Cecilia looked at Royal, who nodded in agreement. Everyone folded their hands around the table and bowed their heads. Cecilia called my name, and I looked up to meet her gaze. “Would you do the honors, since you made this meal?”

Rhett’s hand settled on my thigh. I could feel his eyes on me. “Of course,” I agreed with a small smile, which Cecilia returned. We all bowed our heads as I said grace. Amy was the first to join me, then Rhett and the rest of the Abbotts.

“Amen.” We all said in unison.

“Thank you.” Cecilia looked at me with a genuine smile.

“You’re welcome,” I replied. Rhett squeezed my thigh as we exchanged looks.

Dinner felt like a dream. Or a trap. Although I was waiting for the other shoe to drop, I felt oddly comfortable. Standing beside Cecilia washing dishes while she dried them seemed natural. As if we had been doing this for years.

I was wiping down the empty sink when I saw a vehicle approaching the house. There it was: the trap springing closed. Silently, I took a deep breath to brace myself. I didn’t say a word to Cecilia. Besides, she was likely expecting Maria.

Knocking rang through the house. Cecilia poked her head out of the kitchen as Amy shouted, “I’ll get it!” and ran toward the door. Everyone seemed surprised by Maria’s presence, but Royal politely invited her to stay and enjoy the dessert she brought.

“Let me slice it up!” I waited for Maria to catch sight of me. “Oh, you are here.” The light left her face as she sat a pie on the table.

“Doing your best to suck up to Cece and Royal?” she added as she walked toward me. I didn’t move as she got in my personal space and reached around me for a pie server. “Excuse my reach.” She withdrew, tool in hand, and walked back to the table.

“Just making sure Rhett gets fed during recovery.” I leaned against the sink with my arms crossed. We briefly made eye contact as she made the first incision. It was silent as she put monstrous portions on each plate.

“Oh!” Maria feigned surprise as she looked at the empty tin. “I wasn't expecting you to be here.” She loaded pie plates on her arms and disappeared into the dining room.

Maria came back and grabbed the final plate. “If there is any left, you can have my sloppy seconds.” She winked and turned to head into the dining room.

As she spun around, there was Cecilia. Before she knew what hit her, she was covered in pie. “My goodness, Maria!” Cecilia looked her up and down, and then motioned for me to pass a kitchen towel. In no rush, I tossed one in their direction.

Cecilia fussed over Maria and tried to clean her up but really just smeared it more into her shirt. “Well, looks like you have to settle for crumbs!” Cecilia added as she dropped some pie bits into the waste bin.

Maria’s eyes narrowed as she looked between us. “I said I wasn’t going to stay long, and this feels like a sign that I really should get going.”

“I’m sure we’ll see you next time we’re at the bank!” Cecilia ushered her out. While she was herding Maria to the door, I found the broom and finished cleaning.

Cecilia came back as I was emptying the dust pan. When I turned around there were two plates of pie on the table. “She practically served that pie in quarters.”

“Thank you,” I said as I came toward the table.

“Finding the snakes in the garden can be tough,” she responded and handed me a plate. “You can call me Cece.”

“Ok, Cece.” I tested it out as we made our way to the dining room. Rhett pulled my chair close to his as I sat down. Cecilia watched us as she folded her napkin on her lap.

She cast an unnoticed glance at my hand as we ate—a reminder to make sure he knew where she kept his maternal grandmother’s wedding band so he could get it resized when he was ready.

Royal ran his finger along Cece’s, pulling her back to the present moment. Her mind ran from wedding rings to homesteads. Then she had a moment where she thought about having two daughters-in-law. “Please don’t let me lose her,” she whispered under her breath.

With that favor, she returned her attention to those around the table.

Visit my masterlist for more | Sign up for my tag list!

A kind reminder: Likes work hard, but reblogs and comments work harder 😈

Tagging a few friends I've seen interact with Rhett content: @cherrycola27 @roosterforme @beyondthesefourwalls @mak-32 @attapullman @withahappyrefrain @sunlightmurdock @ereardon @bobfloydsbabe @sebsxphia

#rhett abbott #outer ranger #rhett abbott x reader #religion #need a favor #jelly roll #Spotify

271 notes · View notes

augustjustice · 1 year ago

Text

Sharing Smokes Outside the Snow Ball

AO3 Link

It's the Winter of 1999, and Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson are standing outside the Hawkins Middle School Snow Ball, sharing a smoke.

Eddie can't believe he's back here, the whole thing feeling nearly as surreal as that nightmare, wayward Spring Break over ten years ago. He'd barely made it out of that hell hole alive, Steve himself practically having to hold Eddie together as they made their way from Forest Hill to Hawkins Memorial Hospital.

Spring had turned into summer, sweltering and oppressive as Eddie slowly, painfully healed.

There had been bright spots, though. Watching Lucas and Erica squabble during the one-shot campaign he had cooked up just for the party that June. Evenings out beside the Harrington's temperature controlled pool, beer bottle sweating in his hand as he traded a joint back and forth between Argyle and Jonathan, the sound of Robin's cackle loud and bright as she managed to hipcheck Steve into the pool. Steve's own blinding smile--a longtime feature of Eddie's secret high school fantasies--being turned on him the first time he made it from the front doors of the physical therapy clinic to the passenger side of his BMW, without needing any help at all.

But then summer had ended, and Eddie, finally back together again like a character out of a children's nursery rhyme, had packed up his van and headed straight to Chicago, not looking back.

Sure, there'd been post cards sent, phone calls to Dustin and the other Hellfire brats, promises to see everyone soon. Promises that Eddie couldn't keep, even if he wanted to.

Not when he didn't dare set foot in Hawkins, not ever again.

Then, over a decade into his second life as a struggling guitarist by night, record shop employee by day, his cousin Brooke had landed on his doorstep, looking too tired and too young all at once, a bruise around her eye. Behind her, her eleven year old son was studying the apartment hall's tiling.

"I left him." Eddie didn't need an explanation for that one. Her good-for-nothing husband, Nash. "Jake won't be any trouble, he just...needs a place to stay, while I get back on my feet. Somewhere his daddy can't find him. Just for a little while."

Eddie thought of his Mama. And then he called Wayne.

"Shit, Uncle Wayne, I--don't know what to do."

"Come on home now, boy," Wayne said, easy as anything, like Eddie had left only yesterday. "Come on back home."

So Eddie had.

That had been six months ago. And now he was standing in the aforementioned middle school parking lot with Steve 'the Hair' Harrington, while their kids--and wasn't that just a fucking head trip and a half--danced the night away.

"I keep half expecting Click to round the corner screaming my name," Eddie admits as he gives Steve a light. "Remember junior year, I sold to you in the alley behind the gym? Old bat nearly got me that time."

"Remember? I literally had to shove that joint down the front of my shorts, dude," Steve admits, which draws a snort out of Eddie to match his own chuckle. "Most of the guys on the basketball team couldn't move half as fast as you did that day. You practically vanished into the woods before she even made it to the stadium. Totally shoulda gone out for the track team, Eds."

Eddie clutches his chest, as though he's been shot. "Don't speak such blasphemy to me, Harrington."

"Yeah, well, you can quit worrying. Pretty sure she finally retired," Steve tells him, taking a long drag before he's passing the cigarette back to Eddie, even that brief touch enough to send sparks of electricity up Eddie's arm. Then he shoots Eddie that charming, infamous Harrington smile, boyish and cocky, the one that says he's used to getting exactly what he wants. "Even if she's not, I'm head of the PTA. If Higgins tries anything, I'll just threaten not to bring cupcakes to the next bake sale."

"Harrington, my hero," Eddie fakes a swoon, collapsing for a brief second against Steve's shoulder, an excuse to get close.

The theatrics get no rise out of Steve beyond an amused smirk. Even after all these years, he's still used to Eddie's antics, it seems.

"You know, it was total déjà vu," he nods to the middle school gymnasium, all decked out in blue and white, "dropping Sam off here."

Though he's actually gotten to know the Harrington offspring in person since he's been back, Eddie had received the rundown from Dustin and the others on Steve's journey to dadhood in their scattered calls over the years.

The December after Eddie had left, Steve had met a girl, taken her out on a few dates, and accidentally gotten her pregnant.

With Samantha, a name Dustin had proudly persuaded Steve into as the little girl's godfather. Every bit as adorable, now that Eddie had seen her, as the gushing picture the party had painted for him, all big blue eyes and wavy chestnut hair just like her father's.

Steve had gotten down on one knee long before she was born, determined to tie the knot and do right by her mother nearly as soon as he'd heard the news.

The pair had been divorced not even two years later.

"I don't think they were ever really in love," Dustin had informed Eddie one sunny afternoon impromptu of nothing, as always blunt in his honesty. "But you know what Steve is like. He's a hopeless romantic."

Eddie didn't, not exactly. But he's gotten enough glimpses, both back in '86 and much more recently, that he's starting to put the picture together.

Steve draws Eddie out of that particular reverie with another bright laugh. And then he's recounting the memory of Dustin's hair, done up in the infamous Harrington 'do, as Steve pulled up in front of the '84 Snow Ball playing chaperone in his trusty Beemer, long since traded in for the much more affordable sedan he's driving now.

"I demand photographic evidence, Harrington," Eddie insists, smile crooked, that distracting dimple appearing in his right cheek, "you can't conjure up an image like that and then not fork over the goods."

"Hey, man, talk to Dustin. Mrs. Henderson took like...a million pictures that night," Steve laughs.

But he's already mentally going through the album tucked away on a bookcase back at home, positive he's got his own photo to show for it. It'll make for a nice excuse to invite Eddie over for dinner one night.

The subject turns then to their own checkered experiences with school dances.

"Class of '85, baby! That's when they made your 'King Steve' title official," Eddie crows, teasing as he taps Steve once on the nose.

Steve goes a bit cross-eyed, following the movement of his finger.

"Yeah, well, talk about a total let-down of a night. I didn't even bring a date," Steve admits, tone blasé. The truth is, his entire senior year had been something of a disappointed trudge towards graduation, a walk he had taken mostly alone. There had been bright spots--the little band of miscreants he'd fallen into babysitting, for one--but they had all been far outside the walls of Hawkins High. "I'm guessing you weren't around for that? Not really your scene, especially with the Munson Doctrine's strict rules about 'forced conforming.'"

He puts Eddie's words in deliberate air quotes, his turn to give him a teasing smile.

"You're wrong about that one, big boy. I saw them, adorning your glorious locks with the crown." That mischievous smile is back. "We're not that old, dude, don't tell me you already forgot the whole 'prom streaking' incident?"

Eddie shoots him a loaded, deliberate look.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute." Shaking his head with a laugh, Steve waves his arms in front of him, like he's calling a time out. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me. That was you?"

"The one and only. What can I say, Jeff and Gareth dared me. Besides, by that point," Eddie shrugs casually, "I already knew I didn't have a shot at graduating anyway, so. Thought I'd close out the year with a bang."

"You've seriously never considered doing anything halfway in your life, have you, Munson?" Steve asks, giving Eddie's shoulder an almost exasperated nudge, smile fond in spite of himself.

"Absolutely not, Stevie boy. Life's too short. Where's the fun in playing it safe?"

Eddie swings into Steve's space, then, dark eyes sparkling. Goading and flirtatious. Just like when they were teenagers, thrown together in the worst of circumstances but making the best of it, before time and pain and trauma put all that distance between them.

And if Steve's eyes drop down to Eddie's lips as they share air, slow enough it can't be anything but deliberate, and their fingers brush just a tad too intimately the next time they trade the cigarette back and forth...well. They've got a lot of lost time--and shared smokes in school parking lots--to make up for.

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #my stuff #my things #i watched the end of season 2 for the umpteenth time this evening #remembered i always wanted a steddie scene parallel to the jopper smoking scene outside the snow ball #and then wrote this in a fevered haze over the past two hours #so apologies for any mistakes and messiness

377 notes · View notes

sainzfilm · 2 years ago

Note

hey! i love your writing so much and i was wondering if you could do a drabble of charles and reader (model or actress or smth) where they’re already in an established relationship but it’d secret to the fans (friends and family know tho) and reader wants to make it public, feeling like she’s always on the side and that he’s embarrassed but actually charles feels he’s not good enough for her bc she’s also famous and so many guys like her

pairing: charles leclerc x actress!reader

a/n: me wishing i could be in a secret relationship with anyone on my favs list….anyways hope you like this anon, thank you for requesting :)

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

“And the Academy Award for Best Actress goes to…Y/N Y/L/N!”

Charles couldn’t believe what he heard on television as he cheered for you from the hotel he was staying at. You did it– his girl got the most prestigious award for an actress and he couldn’t have been anymore prouder.

You looked ethereal as you walked up the stage, wearing the biggest smile on your face and the most elegant red gown. Taking the award from the presenter, you took a deep breath and raised it up high.

“Wow, this is just surreal! I never imagined myself on this stage, let alone holding this,” You laughed softly as you looked at the award in your hands, “There isn’t much to say. I’m grateful for all the love and support I’ve gotten for the past few years in my career. I’d never be here with out my family, my best friends, and a certain special someone in my life. This is all for them, thank you!”

Sitting on the bed, Charles couldn’t believe what he just heard. You had technically mentioned him in live television. It was if you were saying that your heart belonged to him, which somewhat eased up the doubts he’s had in his mind.

It wasn’t until a few hours later when Charles’ phone lit up from a Facetime call and he hurriedly picked it up, his heart fluttering when he saw your face.

“Congratulations, mon ange!” Charles exclaimed with a big smile on his face, “How’s my girl doing? Can’t believe I’m dating an Academy Award winner.”

“Thank you, my love,” You giggled as you laid back in bed, hair sprawled over as you lifted your phone above your face, “I feel exhausted but I really wanted to talk to you.”

“You should rest first,” Charles clicked his tongue as he shook his head, putting his arm behind his head, “You know I’ll be here when you wake up, baby.”

“I don’t wanna,” You pouted, which elicited a chuckle from your Monégasque lover, “I wanted to talk to you about something though, Cha.”

“Hm, what is it, mon ange?”

“You didn’t mind that I sort of revealed our relationship during my speech earlier, right?”

Charles frowned a bit, taking longer than usual to answer.

“Cha?” You whispered as your eyebrows furrowed, “Was my connection bad?”

“No, not at all. Sorry,” He mumbled as he sat up straighter, “I just- is it the right decision, baby?”

“I think it is,” You shrugged as you put your phone up against a pillow before laying on your side to face it, “We’ve been going steady for nearly a year and…I don’t know I just want to let everyone know that I’m taken by you, you know?”

“Mon ange…” Charles sighed as he rubbed a hand down his face, “Don’t get me wrong, I love you, but it’s just…”

“Just what, Charles? I’m not good enough for you?” You frowned as your bottom lip quivered, “Are you embarrassed of everyone else in the world knowing?”

“No, baby! It’s not that,” He said as he mirrored your expression, “It’s pretty much the other way around.”

“Huh? You think you’re not good enough for me?”

Charles looked down and nodded, “Yeah. You’re just so famous, you know? I’m like a tiny speck in your universe and all these guys want you, yet you chose me.”

Hearing Charles open up about what he felt shattered your heart. How could he ever think that way? He was beyond perfect– your dream guy rolled into one certain Monégasque Ferrari driver.

“Cha…” You pouted as you looked at him through your screen, “You’re so much more than enough for me. Who cares about those guys? You’re everything that I’ve ever yearned for in my life.”

“You’re just saying that…”

“Charles Leclerc, look at me,” You sternly said as he looked at you, “Who did I pick?”

“Me.”

“Who’s my boyfriend?”

Charles grumbled, “Me.”

“I love you. My heart is yours,” You smiled reassuringly, “You’re the only one I have eyes for. I promise.”

“I love you, mon ange,” He smiled softly back at you, “Sorry you have to put up with me.”

“I could say the same to you,” You chuckled as you looked at him lovingly, fighting back a yawn, “Whats yours is mine– burdens and joys.”

“Through burdens and joys, baby. Now, go to sleep, you need to rest. I’ll be here, I’ll stay in the call.”

Yawning as you nodded, slowly drifting off to sleep, “Goodnight, Cha. I love you.”

“Goodnight, mon ange, I love you.”

As you slept peacefully, Charles stared at the ceiling and thought how light his heart felt from your reassurance. You chose him. And, maybe, it is time to let the world know how much he loved you.

bonus scene!

Liked by carlossainz55, lorenzotl, and 982,431 others

charles_leclerc my girl just won the academy award for best actress last night. always proud of you, mon ange. you’re taking the world by a storm, i love you. 🤍

view all 187,831 comments

yourusername: my cha, my il predestinato 🤍 i love love love you more than words can say.

❤️ liked by charles_leclerc

leclercupdates: HOW WHAT WHEN WHERE they’re so cute!!! 😭

carlossainz55: ay cabrón, finally! and congrats to my friend, Y/N 😜

yourusername: thank you mr. smooth operator 😌

ynlovebot: IM SCREAMING I KNEW THIS WAS COMING FOR A LONG TIME

16leclerc: TELL ME ABOUT IT I CANT BELIEVE THIS IS ACTUALLY HAPPENING MY PARENTS

#sainzfilm drabbles #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 driver x reader #f1 imagine #fluff #f1 imagines #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #drabble #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #cl16 #ferrari #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc oneshot #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc drabble

2K notes · View notes

yunhonumeris1fane · 1 year ago

Text

Reality • JYH

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡

Your life was going downhill, there was nothing good about it. But one day you woke up in a different place, the one that brought you happiness.

pairing: reader x yunho

genre : smut, fluff

warnings: sMuT and aDuLt LaNgUaGe?

A/n Dunno how. I'm feeling about this one. I'm not really into writting smutty stuff, I'm all about all the cutesy and giggly stuff(^.^)

"My life is crap" You let out a loud sigh, talking to your friend on the phone.

"Life is crap indeed" She hummed in agreement.

You hated your life and even more hated the fact that you didn't do anything about it. You wanted to change, but had very little enthusiasm about making any.

"I just want to sleep forever" You admitted, as she laughed at you. But there was really nothing much to laugh at.

Most of the time you were working, from morning to late evening. Burnouts followed you everyday, everywhere you went. During the days off, you rotted in bed or sometimes got yourself out of the bed and went to a store. You were really procrastinating. It was hard to understand how you still managed to keep your only friend by your side, when you were so questionable. She had a grip on her life, stable work, a good partner and healthy lifestyle, so unlike you.

Your stomach growled from hunger, so you dropped the call and you fixed yourself some instant ramyeon.

With the dinner being ready, you plopped yourself on a couch and found some videos to play on youtube. Slurping on noodles, you watched your favorite band. They were performing on Inkigayo, it was a live performance and everything was perfect. A simple meal and watching your favorite group was all you needed to make your life a little better.

As their performance was going towards the end, you felt your body giving out . You closed your eyes for a second and dozed off.

A bright light woke you up. You slowly opened your eyes to see that the environment was unfamiliar. You clearly remembered falling asleep on the couch, watching the screen. But now you were in bed, in some room, that wasn't even yours. Was I kidnapped?

The moment you felt the bed dip, your heart skipped a beat. You turned around and saw someone you thought you'd never see. It was him. Yunho. What was he doing in bed with you?

"Hah… that's an odd dream" You laughed to yourself as the man only stared in confusion with his eyebrows furrowed. Not able to understand whether it was a dream or not, you pinched yourself. And surprise, it hurt. Ouch!

"What are you doing baby?" He let out a breathy laugh, finding your behavior rather strange.

"I-I…" You stuttered, still unable to comprehend anything, "weird dream, such a weird dream" you mumbled to yourself.

"Did you have a bad dream?" He asked, plopping himself on his elbow.

"Yeaaahh…" You guessed, still feeling confused. It all felt too real. But it was impossible for everything to be real?

"Are you working today?" With a groan, he lifted himself off the bed, stretching his gorgeous body. You couldn't help, but steal a glance at him, his clothes wrinkled, hair messy, slight tint of pink painted on his cheeks. Such a beautiful sight.

"I- I don't know" You shrugged as you searched for your phone. You didn't go through much struggle, as the phone was right by your side. Taking a closer look at the phone, you noticed it was the same. Trippy

You immediately went straight into your calendar and let out a sigh of relief when you saw that you had no plans marked in the app. It was Saturday.

"I take it as a no" He smiled and headed off to what you assumed was a bathroom. Finally alone, you sat up, your body frozen. If it was a dream, it was a surreal one.

Taking a look around, you inspected the room for any clues. But nothing helped to come to a conclusion so you left yourself thinking you were lucid dreaming or something like that.

"I'm going to practise. You're gonna stay here, or do I drop you home?" Yunho came back into the room, sliding a white shirt over his head, flashing his bare torso in front of your eyes. You quickly turned away, not wanting to stare.

"I-Il stay" You stuttered, picking at your fingers, trying to distract yourself from the impure thoughts.

"Sure" with a smile he picked up his bag and walked up to you. Leaning in, his face moved closer and closer to yours. You slowly began leaning back away from him, as he was getting dangerously close. But in a blink of an eye you were kissed on your forehead by the man in front of you, completely taking you by surprise

"Mhm… You're weird" Yunho once again looked at you, scrunching his nose. He was suspicious of your odd behaviour, but at the same time, you were always weird. So not giving much thought, he left.

"Whoaa" You breathed out as you dropped down on the bed, kicking your feet in the air energetically. You were just kissed. Kissed by Yunho.

With a squeal you got off the bed and ran out of the room. But a collusion awaited for you, as you bumped into something, rather someone, it felt like a cement wall. The moment you lifted your eyes up from the floor, you were met with Yeosang, staring at you.

"Slow down y/n" He let out a soft laugh and continued his way to the entrance door, "you're staying over?" He asked, tying his shoes.

"Yes!" You cheered, overtaken by all of the emotions. You ran over to the living room couch and sat down, excitedly looking around room.

"Oky" he smiled and was ready to leave, but a thought crossed his mind, "no running in the apartament, okay?... We don't need any more accidents" He informed you as you nodded and he disappeared behind the door.

You wanted to stay here forever, but what if it was a dream, how long was it going to last?

Feeling a little hungry, you decided to check the fridge. But to your surprise or not, there wasn't much to choose from. Only condiments and tons of water bottles. So you searched through all of the cabinets and finally found the golden treasure. Instant ramen cabinet. Immediately you grabbed the classic shin ramyeon one and in no time heated everything up.

As soon as you were done, you sat down on the couch and checked your phone. Clicking on the contacts, you scrolled through the dial log. And it showed exactly what you were thinking. There were a lot of calls from Yunho and the guys, leaving you completely unsure whether you were in a dream or had some type of amnesia.

The entire day you spent watching dramas on Tving, occasionally snacking on food. Of course you also snooped around the house, but didn't find anything suspicious.

It startled you, when the doors suddenly swung open, revealing your supposed boyfriend. He looked physically tired, but mentally happy. The genuine smile and his arms wide open, couldn't tell otherwise. It took you a couple seconds to understand why he was so. Of course he wanted a hug. And you being a little socially awkward, didn't know that. The moment you stood up he engulfed you in the hug. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, his face buried in your neck. Being hugged so heartfully, it finally felt like home. So you wrapped your arms around his torso and smushed your cheek flat against his chest, squeezing him even more than he was.

"Was I gone for too long?" Yunho pulled away, tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear as he looked you in your eyes, analysing you.

"As if for an eternity" You breathed out, earning a chuckle from him.

"You're really weird today, I'll give you that" He pecked you on your lips, "let's go to my room, we can do whatever you want" He suggested as you happily agreed and followed him from behind, holding his hand tight.

Once in his room, you sat down on the bed as he went searching for clothes in his closet. Once he found a perfect pair, with a quick kiss on your lips, he went to the bathroom once again, to freshen up. When he came back, he found you in the exact same position, sitting on the bed, patiently waiting.

"Do you want to do anything specific" Running his fingers through his hair, he sat down by your side, himself trying to think of something to entertain yourselves with

"Watch a movie?"

"Okay…any particular movie?" He asked, fetching a tv remote from the coffee table.

"I don't know, maybe something from suggestions?"

"Sure, what type of movie though?"

"A western movie maybe?" You suggested, wanting something fresh, as he nodded and opened the netflix app.

"Let's do it like that. Go to the movie section, then scroll 4 times down and 4 times right" You explained to him and he did so. But it didn't land on a movie you both had in mind.

"This? Really?" Yunho turned to you, with a questioning look on his face.

"Well…It is what it is" You shrugged as he let out a heartful laugh and clicked on the play button, "- get comfortable"

You laid down on the bed, your back resting against the pillows as you watched him close the bedroom door shut.

"Why close the door?"

"I don't want the guys asking why I was watching Fifty Shades of Gray" He calmly explained, laying down next to you. He slid his arm behind your back, so you could rest your head on his chest.

"It's really not that bad"

"How do you know that?" A surprised gasp left his mouth, "whoah, didn't know you watched such movies"

"Everyone has seen it, trust me" You flashed him with a proud smile as his eyes go wide open.

"Well… now everything makes sense" He wondered, leaving you confused.

"What?"

"No nothing, watch the movie" Instead of explaining further, he played the movie.

The beginning went smooth, nothing much happening. Both of you invested in the movie, no words exchanged, until the spicy part came across. That was where things got a little awkward.

You shifted in the bed, wrapping your hand around his torso. As the scene got too much for you, you nuzzled your face into his neck and felt him tensing up.

"You don't like the movie?" He looked down at you, his hand going to your face, gently caressing your rosy cheeks.

"No" you shook your head, placing your hand on top of his.

"Do you want to do something else?" He asked, catching you staring at his lips. He already knew what you wanted. And he wanted it to, so he brought you up on on his lap, now you were straddling him.

You wasted no time, bringing your lips to his, as his hands found their way to rest on your hips. Endless amount of shivers ran down your spine as his lips moved against yours. Gently biting on your lower lip, he gained access to your mouth, diving deeper, eager to get more from you. His hands slid underneath your shirt, fingers running up and down your bare back. Your mind went hazy, from his touch, as you felt your heart stop for a moment, when you felt him tug at your shirt, wanting it off.

"It's getting a little hot, you might want this off?" His voice is suggestive as he keeps on riding the shirt up.

"Me or you?" You quirked an eyebrow and let him take your shirt off. He wasted no time, getting rid of your clothes and let out a satisfied groan once you were left in nothing but a pair of black undergarments.

"Mhm…you're perfect" he latched his lips onto yours, his hands memorising every inch of your body.

Moments later clothes were long gone, as his lips traveled up from your lips down to your chest, leaving wet trails of kisses and bites down your neck. Your back arched at the feeling of his lips brushing past your chest.

While he was busy leaving marks on your body, his hand grazed against your leg, slowly moving up your inner thigh, to where you needed him. An illicit moan escaped your mouth as you felt his fingers working its magic between your legs. Your body was soon covered in goosebumps, as his lips moved against your neck, sucking at the sweet spot and his fingers were drawing circles on your bundle of nerves.

"D-don't stop, p-please" You were a moaning mess, begging him to continue the way he was.

"Wasn't going to" He hushed you, watching your eyes close shut. It was a delightful sight for him to see,the way you folded under his touch. Sensing that you were close, as your thighs were starting to close around his hand, he attached his lips to your neck, sloppily kissing and biting at your skin.

"Let go baby, I've got you" his voice was deep and raspy, as he whispered into your ear. And it was enough encouragement for you, as you came crumbling down under his touch. He didn't stop, making sure you rode out your high to the fullest. Panting heavily, you slumped on him, as his hand grasped your hips, holding you in place.

Taking a moment to catch your breath you lifted your eyes to meet his half hooded eyes. Needy, you kissed him again, as his hands rested against each side of your face, thumbs softly brushing your heated cheeks.

"We haven't even gotten to the good part and you're already out of breath" He teased you, his husky voice sending goosebumps all over your skin. Biting your lip you started moving in his lap, slightly rocking your hips against his hard bulge. He let out a breathy moan, his fingertips digging deeper into your flesh.

"Fuckk…you're driving me insane" he groaned, as you slowly rocked your hips at a torturously slow pace, but he needed more.

Desperate, he pulled away from your enchanting kiss and lifted you up a little, so you could finally end his suffering. He positioned himself right at your entrance and a chain of moans fell off your lips as you sank down.

"Mhmm… fuckk" He groaned, his head falling back, as your body moved against his.

At first you were the one in control, your body moving up and down his shaft, as your lips moved against each other, exploring every inch he had to offer. But soon exhaustion creeped up on you, and he felt you getting slower, so he took the initiative on himself, gripping your hips, he guided you onto his dick and began slowly easing himself into you. You rested your head in the crook of his neck, placing sloppy kisses everywhere as he picked up the pace, thrusting into you with more force.

"M-more I need more" You breathed out, chasing your high, as it was just around the corner. Attentively listening to your needs, his hand went down, applying pressure and drawing circles on your sensitive nub. When he felt your walls clenching around him, he knew you were close, but he abruptly stopped.

"W-why did you stop?" You whined, feeling robbed from all of the sensations.

He didn't say anything, instead flipped you around, so you were underneath him and pushed your legs apart, giving him more space.

"Shh.. " He silenced you with a kiss and thrusted into you again, this time his cock buried even deeper. Chuckling, he watched your eyes roll back from pleasure. He began slowly, working his way to a faster pace, kissing every inch of your neck and chest on the way. You were a painting mess under him, as he was thrusting into you, making sure you would be seeing stars.

"I-I'm close…" You moaned, your arms finding its way to his back, gripping at his back muscles, leaving red marks on his skin.

"I know, I know… Be a good girl and wait just a little" He groaned, as his body tensed up, he knew he was close too and he wanted you to come together. He rested his forehead on top of yours, attaching his lips to yours for a hungry kiss again.

"F-fuck baby, let go" He voiced out the words you were dying to hear and soon the tingling in your abdomen turned into a bliss. Buckling his hips, he hit your sweet spot over and over again, as you came undone under him. Your hips were shaking as you felt him twitch inside and delicate, like music to your ears, moans left his mouth. He kept up the pace, wanting this moment to last as long as possible.

Panting heavily, you opened your eyes and met his eyes staring into yours. He was gazing at you so lovingly, you could swear you saw sparkles in his eyes.

"I'm very lucky to have someone like you, someone so beautiful" He spoke softly as he placed a kiss on your nose.

"I love you" you whispered, running your hand through his messy hair.

"I love you more" He gave you a cheeky smile before kissing you again, not being able to resist the temptations.

"I'll start a shower for us. '' He suggested, lifting his heavy body off of you.

"I'll change the sheets" You offered, looking at the wet patches on the duvet.

"No" He approached your side of the bed and lifted you up in bridal style, "We'll do it later, together, let's go shower now"

The shower didn't last long, as the two of you were exhausted. You quickly cleaned and rinsed your body as Yunho gathered towels and wrapped one around you. While drying yourself off, Yunho changed into his previous clothes and found you a shirt of his to wear.

"Cute" He noted, looking at you drowning in his shirt.

The changing of the sheets was also done fast, as the two of you were eager to go to sleep.

"Y/n take this end please, don't lose it again" Yunho let out a frustrated groan, as you were struggling with changing the sheets. And as soon as everything was done you buried yourself underneath the covers.

"Come here" Yunho pulled you into his embrace, as you found your warmth in him. He rested his head on yours and closed his eyes, "sleep well"

And with that you fell asleep. But your sleep was interrupted by an alarm clock ringing, piercing through your ears. As you reached for your phone, you felt the bed empty and cold. You opened your eyes and sadness clouded your mind. You were back in your own room, alone again. It was all just a dream.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡

#ateez #ateez x reader #jeong yunho #jeong yunho x reader #yunho fluff #yunho x reader #ateez smut #yunho smut

233 notes · View notes