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wheresarizona · 9 months

Text

Bluebonnet

summary: Is Joel Miller your friend? No. You’re not even sure if he actually likes you or just puts up with you because of his kid. Then he kicks some guy's ass in a bar for getting handsy with you, and you’re starting to think maybe he might like you a little…

rating: E (18+!! No y/n, Grumpy Joel Miller, Protective Joel Miller, Soft Joel Miller, age gap (unspecified but reader was born before the outbreak), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie, oral sex (f + m receiving), 69 position, dirty talk, praise kink, spanking, spit mention, slight breeding kink, Joel has a big dick, Joel being kinda a dick, a random guy harassing you then getting beat up by Joel, canon typical violence, icing Joel’s knuckles, feelings confessions, Ellie being Ellie and the star of the show, AU where Joel doesn’t lie to Ellie and their relationship is still good)

pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader

word count: 5.5k+

a/n: Literally, a scene in this woke me up from dead sleep at five in the goddamn morning, and I spent thirty minutes plotting the whole one shot while barely awake. This fic was very spur of the moment that I wrote in less than two days, so it’s unbeta’d. All mistakes are my own. Please be horny about Joel protecting you with me.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Masterlist

Is Joel Miller your friend?

No.

Are you on friendly terms?

You thought so.

Joel isn’t the most social of fellas—he’s basically a feral cat that wants to be left alone.

If you aren’t friends with him, then how did you become the regular occupant of the seat across from his in the Jackson mess hall every breakfast and dinner?

The answer is simple: Ellie.

It all started months ago when you first got to Jackson and met the teen after being assigned to a job rotation with her. She was so excited about finding out you lived in Texas for many years before the world went to hell she invited you to eat dinner with her so you could meet someone, and that’s how you were introduced to Austin-native Joel Miller.

He’s a bit older than you, never smiles, and isn’t much of a talker but still polite enough to answer a question if you ask it, even if it’s more of a grumble at the start of the day. With Ellie, though, it was different. He talked to her, and his voice was like coming home after a long day and settling in on the couch—that familiar Texan accent making you feel all warm and comfy, his words wrapping around you like a tight blanket and taking you back to a time when things were good and safe.

The morning after the first dinner, Ellie had called you over to sit with them for breakfast, and again that evening, little bits of conversation happening between bites as you got a grasp on what the relationship was between this young girl and man—it was clearly father-daughter in nature even if she didn’t call him ‘dad,’ and you savored every word she wheedled out of him.

It got to the point where the teenager didn’t have to beckon you over, and you just knew to set your food down in the seat in front of Joel to eat with them, always smiling at Ellie giving him so much shit, chatting with them or more the young girl, with Joel occasionally offering clipped anecdotes, and you trying not to acknowledge his handsomeness—you weren’t sure if he even liked you or if he was just putting up with you for the sake of his kid.

He does have a lovely voice and is very attractive with those expressive chocolate-colored eyes that sometimes soften when he looks at his daughter; you could imagine his grey hair would be soft to the touch, and it’s obvious those full lips of his are kissable. Honestly, it’s surprising he’s not seeing anyone that you know of or Ellie is aware of, with how damn pretty he is.

His broad shoulders and how his flannels stretch over his chest.

His neck.

God, he’s sure nice to look at.

And Ellie is a great kid who trusted you, coming to you anytime she needed advice or wanted to talk about something, and you were happy to be there for her.

The breakfast and dinner routine had been going on for so long that even though Joel didn’t talk at length to you, you’d managed to learn quite a bit about him from questions he’d answer or conversations he had with his kid or brother in front of you. He definitely knew a lot about you, too.

Now, back to why you’re not sure if he likes you.

That morning when you went to breakfast, you were running on autopilot—piled your plate with food, grabbed your cup of shitty coffee that made you want to cry with how much you missed Starbucks, and set it all down in your usual spot, where you started to eat.

When your brain finally began working, that’s when you realized it was abnormally quiet at your table, and you looked up to realize Ellie wasn’t there—it was just Joel. He must have seen some kind of look on your face since he grumbled out she was with a friend. Then when you asked if he wanted you to sit somewhere else, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and he told you no before going back to eating in silence.

That put a point in the maybe he wasn’t just putting up with you for the sake of his daughter column and made you smile a little the rest of the meal.

She wasn’t at dinner either.

This had you standing near your seat, chewing on your lip, debating on sitting elsewhere until Joel sighed loudly, setting down his fork to tell you in a tone that brokered no room for argument to sit, so you did.

After a few bites, you almost choked to death when he asked how your day was.

There was actual back and forth between just the two of you, and you were in heaven at how much he was speaking, another point going toward he might like you.

Those interactions had you feeling really hopeful, and you were excited for breakfast the next day, wondering if he’d try to talk to you more.

It’s been over half a year since you arrived in town, and you have managed to make some friends, who you knew for sure were your friends, and also closer to your age. When a couple of them asked if you wanted to get a drink that night and play some pool, you happily agreed.

The place is practically empty when you arrive.

Standing at the bar, chatting with your friend Mathias as you wait for the bartender to make your drinks, you can feel someone staring at you. Doing a quick glance of the room has your stomach dropping and is the reason you’re pretty fucking sure Joel doesn’t care for you; he’s sitting across the room at a table in the corner, glaring at you—not just glaring, if looks could kill you’d be deader than dead he looks so pissed off, and you’re about to go find out what his problem is when two things happen:

Mathias excuses himself to the restroom, and some man you’ve never seen, let alone spoken to, gets your attention on your other side.

“Hey.” The interloper squeezes your arm, which makes your head turn toward him, shaking him off.

“Don’t touch me,” you reply.

There’s nothing special about the guy—he’s probably younger than you, has floppy blonde hair, and a clean-shaven face, but something in his eyes made you feel uneasy.

“My apologies,” he says, putting up his hands placatingly. “This is my first night here, and I’m just trying to make a new friend. Have a drink with me.”

“Welcome to Jackson, and no, thank you, I’m here with friends.”

“I’m sure they won’t mind if you have one drink with me.” His voice goes lower, “We could have some real fun together.” He has the audacity to grab your ass, and you step out of his reach.

“I said don’t fucking touch me.”

The bartender has gone into the back, Mathias is nowhere in sight, and your other friend is in another room where the pool table is with the jukebox playing.

Something flashes in his eyes, and it has your heart pounding.

“Don’t be like that. Just one drink,” he says, coming closer.

You are readying to fight the bastard when all of a sudden, someone is grabbing his collar, and you see a fist connect with his face in a sickening crunch that makes you gasp.

Joel yanks the guy in front of him.

“She said not to fuckin’ touch her,” he grits through his teeth. “And that she didn’t wanna have a drink with you.”

“I’m sorry,” the other man wheezes, blood oozing from his clearly broken nose. “I’ll leave.”

“Yes, you fuckin’ will—after I teach you some fuckin’ manners.”

With that, he punches him again and again and again.

You’re no damsel in distress—you’ve survived the fucking apocalypse for the last twenty years practically alone and could easily fight your way out of dangerous situations. But having someone stand up for you and protect you? It’s really doing it for you, except you’re genuinely worried Joel will murder this man, so you move toward him.

“Stop, Joel!” you shout, pushing on his shoulder, and he does immediately, his eyes meeting yours. “He’ll leave; toss him out. Please, Joel. Don’t kill him.”

His chest rises and falls as he pants, nodding his head once before hauling the groaning man to the door and throwing him out. The bartender chose that moment to come back, as well as your friend.

There was a worried expression on Mathias’ face. “Is everything okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you answer. The drinks are sitting on the bartop, and you gesture toward them. “I’ve got something to do, so take those for me, okay?”

Confusion is etched on his brow. “Okay…?” He strategically picks up the three glasses and heads for the other room with the pool table.

Your attention moves to the man behind the bar. “Hey, can I get some ice in a rag?”

“Sure thing,” he replies, going to the block and using the ice pick.

Joel didn’t return to you. Instead, he went back to his table like the last however many minutes didn’t happen, and it makes you sigh.

His mixed signals have you so confused you’re ready to just get it all out in the open.

The bartender hands you some ice wrapped in a towel, and you walk over to Joel, having to drag the seat across from his around so you’re next to him, seeing his right hand shaking around his glass with bloodied knuckles.

He won’t even look at you.

“Give me your hand,” you order him.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. Give me your fucking hand.”

“No.”

“Stop being a stubborn asshole, and let me ice your fucking knuckles.”

“I said I’m fine.”

He won’t give you his hand, so you do the next best thing and press the ice against them while they hold his drink, Joel hissing at the coldness.

His head turns to glare at you.

“Don’t give me that look.” You glare right back. “I’m helping you.”

“I don’t need your help,” he practically spits out.

Taking a deep breath, you ready yourself for what you’re going to say.

“We had a nice dinner,” you tell him.

His eyebrows furrow.

“What?”

“We had a nice dinner with just the two of us where we talked—you didn’t smile, but it was the most you’ve ever said to me, and this morning, you let me eat with you. You’re not a people person, and I wasn’t sure if you liked me all that much, but our meals today made me think you might. Then tonight you were glaring at me—”

“When was I glarin’ at you?” he interrupts.

“Before that creep started getting handsy.”

“Oh, I wasn’t lookin’ at you…” His eyes dart away.

You’re confused.

“There’s like no one here. Who were you looking at?”

He sighs loudly. “Your boyfriend,” he mumbles.

“Huh?”

“Your boyfriend—the guy you’re here with.”

“Oh, Mathias? I’m not his type, and he’s already in a relationship. I don’t have a boyfriend or a girlfriend, or a partner—I’m not seeing anyone. You should know this.”

“Oh.”

“Okay, so you weren’t glaring at me, you were glaring at my non-existent boyfriend, and then you came in hot like some knight in shining armor and beat the shit out of that asshole for doing me wrong. Sooo, you maybe like me?”

He looked at you with a squinted gaze, like the answer was obvious.

“I more than maybe like you,” he replies.

That has your eyes widening.

“Wait, in the romantic or platonic sense?”

“There’s no point in talkin’ about this,” he sighs, looking down at the amber liquid in his cup.

“Um, yes, there is because if I have a shot at breaking off a piece of this Kit Kat bar, I’d like to take it.”

His gaze met yours, and you could see the hope swirling in the dark pools.

“In the, uh, romantic or platonic sense?”

Smiling, you answer, “Romantic—I’ve basically been crushing on you since I met you. We’ve known each other for months, almost a year. You’re such a good father to Ellie, a hard worker around town, and you let some random person sit with you during your meals—”

It takes your breath away when he smiles softly and talks when you pause, “You’re not some random person, and I would’ve been stupid to turn away such a beautiful woman.”

“Oh, god, you’re hot and charming.” He chuckles, and your heart picks up in pace. “How are you making me like you more?”

“I don’t know, Blue.”

“Blue?”

“As in Bluebonnet.”

Which was Texas’ state flower and makes you feel so soft at how sweet the nickname is.

“I love it.”

The smile falls from his face.

“You, uh, don’t mind my age?” He scratches at his mustache.

Ellie had made you very aware of how old Joel was.

“No? I think you’re extremely attractive. Does the age difference bother you?”

“No.” He shakes his head.

“What now?” you ask.

“Jesus, it’s been so fuckin’ long,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I guess I’ll court you—take you on a proper date.”

“Second option, that’s more immediate, and we can go with your plan tomorrow.”

He looks at you.

“Yeah?”

“Is Ellie home tonight?”

His eyebrows dip together.

“Yeah?”

Smirking, you say, “Okay, so why don’t we go back to my place, and I properly thank you for what you did tonight.”

You see his throat bob as he swallows, his voice going deeper when he asks, “How do you wanna thank me?”

A smile pulls up on your lips, moving forward to whisper in his good ear, “I was thinking I’d suck your dick.” His breath stutters. “Then have you fuck me however you want.” That makes him groan, and you grin.

His hand moves out from under the ice and up to cradle your face, along with the other, when his body turns, making you look him in the eyes.

“I was stupid for leavin’ you alone ‘cause I assumed you wouldn’t want anythin’ to do with someone as old as me.”

You snort. “Uh, yeah. You went a little hard with the leaving me alone, but I’ll forgive you if you kiss me right now.”

No other words are said. His mouth crushes against yours, swallowing your surprised sound as he kisses you hard. Your fingers end up tangling in his grey waves of hair, your heart hammering in your chest and pulsing at the apex of your thighs. It’s obvious he hasn’t kissed in a while, and you’re in the same boat, both of you figuring things out until there’s a rhythm, and things are heating up with a slip of your tongue into his mouth to slide along his. The need inside you builds and builds until your lungs start to ache for oxygen, and you break apart, his nose nuzzling yours as you both pant with a smile on your lips.

“Let’s go,” he says, and you don’t have to be told twice.

He washed his hands before you left the bar, so it wasn’t obvious he’d just been in a fight.

Having Joel lead you through town is like having a big, scary dog on a leash with how people get out of his way. It’s a little surprising he even knows where you live when you find yourself walking through your front gate.

“How—”

“Ellie,” he answers before you even ask the question, his feet stomping up the two porch steps and you following. “She’s free to hang out with whoever and go wherever. I just ask she tells me where she’ll be.”

“That’s very ‘cool dad’ of you.”

You’re standing at the front door, him out of your way.

“She’s not allowed to leave Jackson without me. If I tell her to stay away from someone, she stays away from them. I expect her to be a model citizen and do the jobs she’s required to do. Unless we talked beforehand, she must be home in time for breakfast and dinner.”

“So, today, you knew it’d just be the two of us?”

“She asked last night to stay at Cat’s house.” That’s Ellie’s best friend. “They’re staying over at our place tonight.”

“Probably won’t even notice you’re missing then,” you say with a smile. The door’s unlocked, and you push it open before turning to grab Joel by the collar, pulling him in for a kiss as he walks you backward into the house with his arms wrapping around your back.

It’s a tangle of tongues, a clash of teeth, one of Joel’s hands moving to massage your breast while your fingers worked open the buttons on his shirt, him shrugging it off by the time you make it to your bedroom door you led him to. Once inside, he strips you first, spending quite a bit of time licking and sucking on your tits when they’re bared and stopping you when you try to work open his pants, learning he’s really fucking strong when he easily tosses you onto the middle of the bed.

Quickly, you’re sitting up on your knees, and you get a good look at the sizable bulge at the front of his jeans; Joel standing there with his hands on his hips, staring at your body with a hungry gaze, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. Scars are littering the golden expanse of skin on his front and arms of varying sizes, a newer one you spot on his lower torso, all of them telling you he’s fought like hell to make it to this point.

Shuffling forward, you’re tired of waiting, your hands going to the button on the front of his pants. Joel’s palm engulfs yours to stop you, his head tilting down to meet your confused eyes.

“You don’t need to suck my dick for what I did,” he says.

“Okay. What if I just want to suck your dick for the hell of it?”

His lips tip up in a crooked smile, and you’re enjoying seeing his different smiles.

“Then have at it, but I wanna lick your pussy until you come on my tongue.”

You suck in a breath, your cunt clenching hard around nothing.

“If you can get me off with your mouth, you’re not gonna be able to get rid of me.”

His eyebrow arches. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. You’ll be stuck with me.”

There’d been enough talking, so you deftly popped open the button and pulled down the zipper, grabbing the waistband to tug his jeans down his thighs. You’re pleasantly surprised he goes commando, and then you get a good look at his hard cock, and it’s glorious.

He’s thick, long, with a nice curve upwards, and you’re wondering if you’ll be able to fit him in your mouth—you’re definitely up for the challenge, licking your lips at the thought. Your fingers don’t even wrap all the way around him when you take him in hand, giving him a few quick strokes.

“Wait,” he says, stopping your movements.

“What?” you ask, looking up at him.

“Hold on,” is all he replies, getting his pants the rest of the way down, kicking them off, and removing his socks. Walking around the side of your queen size bed, you’re turning in place to follow his movements as he gets on the mattress with a groan and the springs squeaking as he moves to the middle, his legs on either side of you, grabbing one of your pillows to put under his head that he lifts to look at you. “Sit on my face.” It’s an order, and he pats his chest to show you he means it.

“I thought I was giving you a blow job…?” You point at his dick resting against his stomach.

“You are,” he replies. “We’re doin’ both. Now, get up here,” he orders again, his face grumpy, patting his chest once more.

“Sheesh,” you say, moving over his leg and up the bed, thankful you showered before you went out. “You’re really bossy when you’re horny.”

When you’re within reach, he replies, “I’ll show you fuckin’ bossy,” and he puts his strength to work again, grunting while hauling you onto him with your back to his head and legs along his sides. His hand lands on the side of your ass in a sharp slap that makes you gasp, feeling the wetness between your legs, coating your inner thighs. “I’m eatin’ this pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he says, positioning you over his face, his hand giving your asscheek another hard spank causing you to clench. “And you’re gonna wrap that gorgeous fuckin’ mouth around my cock.”

You can’t respond because all train of thought leaves your brain when his mouth latches onto your cunt, feeling him groan into your sensitive skin, the sensations making your toes curl, and fire erupt in your center.

“Oh my god, Joel,” you moan. “It’s so good. It’s so fucking good.”

It takes a deep breath for you to focus on your task, spitting on your hand before grasping his hard dick in your palm, the tip red and shiny with his arousal, lowering your face to take him into your mouth. He’s salty on your tongue, your jaw open as wide as it will go as you hollow your cheeks and bob your head, stroking the considerable amount that won’t fit.

His hands have a firm grip on your hips, pulling you farther down on his face, and you’re really worried he’s going to suffocate while he eats you out like a man starving. Pleasure in winding in your belly, tighter and tighter, with how he’s licking at your folds, your eyes rolling back in your head when he sucks your sensitive little clit between his lips.

He’s really going to make you come, and it feels so fucking good you’re having a hard time sucking his cock, so lost in what he’s doing to you—saliva is dripping out of your mouth and down his shaft, making your hand slide easily along him while you have half a mind to suckle on the head of him.

You hit your breaking point suddenly, the coil inside you snapping, your body tensing up as you come with a loud moan, euphoria spreading out from your core. Joel groans into your cunt, his tongue pushing inside your sopping entrance to taste your release straight from the source, his hands grabbing handfuls of your ass and squeezing hard.

He must get his fill because he moves you off his face, hearing him take a deep breath.

“My good fuckin’ girl,” he says through panted breaths, rubbing your hips, his words causing a shiver to move down your spine. “Am I stuck with you?”

You’d given up on blowing him, your forehead resting against his thigh.

“Yeah,” you slur, sounding drunk. “How are you single?” It’s been a while since you’ve had that good of an orgasm.

He sighs and taps your hip. “Turn around, baby.”

Doing your best to turn, Joel helps you, getting you to straddle over his lower torso, your hands finding their place on his warm, flushed chest, seeing the grey hairs of his beard shining with your arousal and his lips frowning.

“Like you said earlier,” he says. “I’m not a people person.”

Your eyebrows knit together.

“I’m people…”

“No, you’re not. You’re my Texas Bluebonnet—my Blue.” His large palm comes up to stroke your cheek.

You’re wondering something. “Why did you talk to me at dinner?”

A sheepish look comes over his face. “‘Cause we were alone, and I didn’t have to worry about Ellie teasin’ me in front of you about my crush.”

“She knows?”

He grimaces. “Suspects. Since there’s only three people on this godforsaken planet I like, and you’re one of them.”

“And I’m the only one who’s not family—oh, that’s obvious.”

“Yeah…”

“Well, how do you want me?”

He looks confused. “Huh?”

“I said you can fuck me however you want,” you answer, sliding your hands up his pecs. “How do you want me, babe?”

When he smiles this time, you get a glimpse of his teeth. “Ride me.”

His answer has you grinning. “Cowgirl, like a true Texan.”

“I just love your tits,” he says, his big hands palming them.

“Good to know,” you reply with a wink.

Sitting up on your knees, you scoot back to get over his hips. His dick is still wet with your spit when you grab it and slide it through your folds before positioning him at your entrance.

There are nerves swirling in your belly, your eyes landing on his dark ones as you slowly start to drop down, seeing his mouth fall open with a gasp, his hands grabbing onto your thighs. You knew there’d be a stretch, but he’s bordering on uncomfortable in how your walls have to expand for his size, feeling the slight burn. When you finally bottom out, you’re beyond full—you’ve never felt fuller, and it takes your breath away.

“Jesus Christ,” his words are said through his teeth, his eyes squeezed shut. “Don’t move.”

His hard cock is throbbing inside you.

“Been a while?”

“Yeah.”

“Same. You’re so fucking big I’m gonna be sore after this.”

His dick jerks as he groans, “Don’t say that.”

“Damn, you’re that close?” you ask, soothingly stroking your hands over his chest.

You watch as his eyes blink open, the grumpy expression you’re used to appearing on his face.

“Don’t make fun of me.” He slaps your ass. “I haven’t fucked in a long time, and now I’m inside the perfect pussy—you’d be strugglin’ too if you were me.”

“I’m not making fun of you, Joel.” You lean forward to cup his cheek, feeling prickling stubble under your palm. “I think it’s hot. Like, you have no idea how flattered I’d be if I made you come right away—talk about an ego boost.”

He doesn’t look convinced, his eyes narrowing.

“Are you just sayin’ that to make me feel better?”

“Nope.” To prove your point, you sit up, bracing yourself with your hands on his chest as you start circling your hips.

His mouth goes slack, his eyes widening, a choked noise pulling from his throat that makes you smirk. “Fuck,” he pants. There’s sweat beading on his forehead, his cheeks a rosy pink. “You fit me like a fuckin’ glove.”

You’re slowly building into an up-and-down motion, feeling every ridge and vein of his cock rubbing against spots you didn’t know existed, sparks of pleasure igniting in your center as you throw your head back.

He must get a hold of himself because both of his hands come down on each of your asscheeks in loud, resounding smacks before he’s gripping them to help you move.

Looking down at him, there’s concentration on his brow.

“Your tight little pussy is takin’ me so fuckin’ well,” he says, hearing the wet sounds where you’re joined. “You love how I stretch you open?”

“Yes,” you moan.

You’re moving a little faster, moving up, and falling down a little harder, making the fire in your belly get hotter and hotter.

“Lean down.”

Doing as he says, your hands are on either side of his head while he continues helping you ride him. He lifts his face to pull a pebbled nipple between his lips, and the pleasure shoots straight to your pussy, making you gasp and more arousal spill around his length.

He laves at one bud, then the other as you work yourself up, the new angle allowing the coarse hairs at the base of his cock to rub deliciously against your clit, and you know you’re close.

Joel is groaning loudly, clearly in heaven, with his dick inside you and his mouth on your tits.

“You gonna come for me, baby?” he says around your hard nipple. “You gonna let me feel you squeeze my dick? Let me fuckin’ have it. Be a good fuckin’ girl and give it to me.”

It’s all too much, everything coming to a head as you fall over the edge with a cry of his name, clenching so hard around him, you’ve stopped moving with his cock buried to the root, pleasure radiating through your body.

Joel’s breathing hard under you, and you don’t sound any better while you come down from your high.

His arms suddenly hug you close to him, and you squeak in surprise when he flips you onto your back with his dick still inside you and his hips nestled in the cradle of your thighs. Lips find yours in a searing kiss, moaning as you taste yourself, welcoming his tongue when it slips into your mouth to tangle with your own.

He starts moving to chase his high, his thrusts hard and fast.

The bedsprings are squeaking loudly, the headboard banging into the wall, hearing the wet suck of your pussy taking his cock and your muffled moans paired with his muffled groans. There’s no mistaking what’s happening in this bedroom, and you just hope your neighbors don’t complain in the morning.

Your fingers have threaded into his hair, your bodies sweaty, his lips leave yours, opening your eyes to see his face screwed up like he’s in pain.

“Where do you want it?” he grits out.

If he’s asking, then he knows the risk.

“Inside.”

He opens his eyes wide. “Are you sure?”

It is a rare thing to want these days.

“Yes.”

His pace speeds up, grunting as he pistons into you, resting his head in the crook of your neck, feeling his hot breaths.

“You can fuckin’ have it,” he grunts. “Fuck you full of me—milk me fuckin’ dry. Fuck, you’re perfect.”

You know he’s close when his thrusts get jerky, then he’s pushing in hard one last time with a guttural groan, feeling the hot spurts of his come filling you, his hips continuing to roll until they finally come to a complete stop. It’s obvious he’s wrung out with how he practically collapses on top of you, but you welcome the weight, pushing your fingers into his hair and scratching at his scalp, which receives appreciative hums.

Minutes pass that neither of you speaks.

“‘M sorry,” the words are murmured into your neck.

“For what?” you softly ask.

“Makin’ you think I didn’t like you.”

“It’s kinda my fault, too. I mean, I am aware you don’t like people but you’ve eaten two meals a day with me for almost a year, so obviously you must like me somewhat.”

His head comes up with his eyebrows furrowed and his lips frowning.

“I like you more than somewhat.”

You smile. His hair is a mess, and you go about combing your fingers through it as you say, “Yes, I know that now. You like me.”

“I do.”

“And I like you.”

“Good.”

“I said you’re stuck with me, so can this be more than a one-time thing?”

His eyes squint in that same way where he thinks something is obvious.

“What?" he says. "I’m not lettin’ you go anywhere. You’re mine—my Blue.”

“Good. ‘Cause you’re mine, too.”

He kisses you passionately, and you lose yourself in it for a second until a thought has your eyes flying open and you pushing his face away.

“What?” he asks, bewildered.

“How are you going to tell Ellie?”

“Shit. Uh, we can sit her down tomorrow night—”

“No, this is a conversation you need to have with her alone.”

He winces. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow night after dinner...”

Is Joel Miller your boyfriend?

He absolutely hates you giving him that label, grumbling he prefers partner, but yes, he is your boyfriend.

Did Joel sneak out of your house in the early morning hours to his own so Ellie wouldn’t know he was gone all night?

Also, yes.

It’s the morning after, and you’re trying to act normal, ignoring how nervous you feel and the soreness between your legs as you sit down in your usual spot in front of Joel with your plate of breakfast. He’s changed into clean clothes and looks like he hasn’t slept, sipping on one of the two cups of shitty coffee in front of him, Ellie next to him already digging into some oatmeal with her spoon, which makes you realize—

“Ah, fuck,” you say, both of them looking at you. “I forgot to grab a fork.”

“I’ll get you one, baby,” Joel says as he sets his coffee down and starts to get up.

The three of you go completely still. Your eyes are wide, Joel’s close in regret, his cheeks turning pink, and Ellie looks like she’s going to explode with excitement until—

“You guys FUCKED!” she shouts.

People around the mess hall turn to stare.

“Ellie,” Joel hisses, his head whipping toward her.

“Sorry, sorry,” she says in a quieter voice, the rest of the room returning to eating. “I knew it! It’s about fucking time! So when are you getting married?” She’s looking between the two of you. “You know, I’ve always wanted a mom! And a brother! I’ll settle for a sister, though. Is she moving in with us, Joel?” She’s staring at him expectantly with a grin.

Joel’s face is bright red. “I’m gettin’ the fuckin’ fork,” he grumbles as he gets up from his seat.

Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know!

Tagging: @theorganasolo @absurdthirst @littlemisspascal @pedrostories @katareyoudrilling @iamskyereads @thefictionalgemini @lol-im-done @koryianders @flyingmushroomss @abbyhaslongshorts @savage-aespa @sofietargaryen @kpopslur @superflymaterial @virtuallia @shaunthesheesh @marsroxx @whore4dilfs @majdoline @mandowhatnow @autobotgirl15-blog @lentil-s0up @myloveistoolittle @squirtlebob @joliettes @aonungs-tsahik @javierpenasimp @thewayiknowyou @magic-magnoliaa @vanemando15 @eddiemunscns @gracie7209 @fan-fiction-floozy @butterscotch-mafia @deliriousfangirl61 @khaylin27 @notyourlovemonkey @a-wild-haggis @scorpiomindfuck @fandomandotherthings @seitmai @myswficlist @call-me-doll-face @fictionalmenloversblog @addisonnie @shaekirk @bitchwitch1981

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller/reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #wheresarizona writes

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just-a-sewer-goblin · 15 days

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This is inspired by this ask! Thank you for letting me use this idea @ceilidho. Also not proofread because it's late and I should really be sleeping

Part 2 here

Butcher!Simon who can't help but get excited, as excited as he can get, when he sees you walking down the sidewalk towards the shop.

You're such an adorable thing, really. Always nervously wringing your fingers when you leave your dog outside. Always polite and soft spoken. He's never seen anyone as pure as you before (even tho he can't know how pure you are but compared to him you are basically a saint).

Your dog is the opposite of you, big and scary with a mean face but utterly whipped for you. It's obvious that you got it for protection and it's intimidatingly well trained. Simon admires the way you handle the animal. He wouldn't mind letting you handle him the same way.

Him and the dog might not be so different, he thinks. Both hardened old men, used to a harsher lifes, that soften for you and would follow your lead every day. Hell, he'd be as well behaved as your dog too if you put a collar and a leash on him and kissed his head the way you kiss your dogs when you leave him outside.

It's a familiar dance at this point, you tie your dog to the pole outside, look into the shop, notice Simon already looking at you and promtly look away at your dog once more.

You draw a few deep breaths, kiss your dogs head (damnit he never thought he'd be jealous of a dog) and Simon can't help but smile behind his mask, utterly enamored.

If only you weren't so intimidated by him. He really wishes he could have a conversation with you but he never gets more out of you than one word answers and a finger pointing at the meat you want.

And fuck, Simon is no conversationalist but he's really trying for you, but you're so damn timid around him. If he doesn't get to hear your pretty voice more he might just lose his damn mind.

So when you open the door, the chime a soft sound in the backround, entirely unfitting for this type of shop, his gruff voice stops you.

"You can bring him in with ya."

"I'm sorry, what?", you ask, confused.

"The dog.", Simon clarifies and you stand there in the open door looking at him like he just told you that he'll be butchering and selling your dog next.

Did he already fuck this up? You seem even more intimidated than usual. The diversion from your routine making your interaction even more tense. He tries to soften his voice when he goes again.

"You can bring your dog inside with ya, if it makes you more comfortable, sweetheart."

Your eyes are big when you meet his. Whether it's because of what he offered or the petname that slipped out, he isn't sure.

"But the sign says only service dogs?", you question genuinely confused.

Simon nearly snorts at your expression, like a deer caught in the headlights and damn him, if he doesn't wanna catch you.

"It's fine, just don't tell the boss. He won't know that it's no service dog as long as you don't rat me out. The boss can't tell a dog from a cat if I'm bein' honest.", he whispers conspiracionally. And then he swears he nearly has a heart attack.

You giggle. You giggle and blush brightly red at the same time, hiding your mouth with your hand and it takes everything in Simon to stop himself from jumping over the counter and pulling that hand away because the glimpse of your smile?! Yeah, he's fucked.

"Maybe next time I'll bring him in with me.", you finally answer. And Simon could die a happy man, finally having had a conversation with you (maybe just a short one but a conversation nontheless) that involves something other than the meat.

He's utterly fucked when you walk up to the counter, still blushing prettily (he didn't know he could make you do that so easily) and softly say your order.

He's utterly fucked when you pay, look at his name tag and say: "Thank you, Simon."

His name in your voice is a sound he will never forget again. He's sure he sounds like a fool when he says: "Have a nice day."

He's even more fucked when you turn around and he watches your cute ass walk out of the shop, giving your dog a treat for being so well behaved.

He nearly faints when you turn around, before walking away, gift him with a smile and wave goodbye. He returns the gesture mindlessly, glad that his mask is hiding the stupid expression he surely is wearing at that moment.

Oh yeah, he needs to catch you. And for that he'll have to prepare dog treats for next time.

#the sewer writes #butcher!simon x gn!reader #simon x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #just a short thing #and it turned out really crappy although it was nice in my head #sorry about that

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s-4pphics · 1 year

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scent of the pine. 1 (e.w.)

omg i finally wrote something who woulda thought gosh golly damn hey yall whos gay around here

wc;cw: 9.6k mmmm, sistersbestfriend!ellie, guitarist/producer!ellie, violinist!oc, so many time skips and theyre not even done yet omg, queer duh, all ocs r black coded<3, mentions of underage smoking/drinking(nics n weed obv), partying, making out, blood(it’s fake but still), all tlou kids appear including *gasp* cat, lots of ocs theyre gonna thrive in later chaps, depression, anxiety, disassociation, crack(it’s not all bad yall laugh a little!!), mentions of therapy, uh yeah just alot of sad and drama, smut in later chaps🤭🤭

You have always been surrounded by music.

When you were born, your mother quieted your screams with song, holding you close to her chest and gently whispering words of affection and love into your ears while your three-year-old sister jumped in celebration for new life.

When you were two, your mother gave you your first ever violin toy. Your sister had taken a large interest in the flute at age four, saying that the whistling noises sounded like birdies! and she wanted to give you the same exposure. It could have been sheer luck or her maternal instincts, but you quickly became attached to it. It was small and inexpensive and hardly sounded like a violin, but its bright lights and animated face near the scratched, poorly painted F-holes entranced you like no other. You couldn’t stop fiddling with the red, blue, and green buttons across the body, and every time it played the same robotic instrumental, you waved your arms around with the biggest smile on your face, like you could fly away from elation. Your sister would sometimes jump in and blow into her months old pink recorder while the instrumental played from your toy, imagining you were a part of a world-renowned orchestra: the musical harmony between the two of you brought your mother joy.

When you turned three, your mom and sister invited over some of her friends to help make cupcakes topped with musical notes for your special day. You sat on the couch with your favorite toy in hand as the instrumental played, jumping up and down on the cushion from pure excitement. Your sister’s friends kept you entertained while your mother prepared dinner, banging together pots and pans with wooden spoons and dancing, imagining them as drums. All four of them made you laugh with jokes, sang to you—one of them even played a song on one of her miniature, bright green guitars— and allowed you to experience some of the joys of life through symphonic expression.

When you were four, your mother noticed differences in your behavior. She noted that you and your sister were polar opposites: she was outspoken, unapologetic, and animated, while you were shy, polite, and timid. You hardly ever spoke unless spoken to, and though no one around you judged you for it, your mother often wondered what went on in your head. Despite your lack of communication, she never doubted the fire inside you: she saw it in your eyes whenever you watched footage of some of the most famous names in the classical world play their hearts out. When you were five, she signed you up for violin lessons.

When your big sister turned eight, she and her friends' released screams of excitement when she revealed her very first flute. She jumped in excitement, —mostly out of relief that she wouldn't have to berate you and your mom with the shrilling bleats of her old, pink recorder— shrieking about how she and her friends should start a band as soon as possible.“How the hell would a trumpet player fit in a rock band, you idiot?” You remembered your sister's best friend, Ellie, saying quietly so your mother wouldn’t hear from the kitchen, earning a playful shove from Jesse, your next-door neighbor. The dark-haired girl, Dina—who lived two houses down and had a large obsession with slapping her mother’s keyboard in the middle of the night—bursted into a fit of giggles while pointing at the young boy, making him blush.

You were always very observant of your sister's friends. You didn’t have many opportunities to make some of your own due to your incessant need to isolate, so you managed with what you had. They intrigued you: they were loud, lively, and exuberant. They never shied away from demonstrating their talents to you or your mom, especially the green-eyed, auburn-haired girl that almost always had her father’s black acoustic guitar strapped around her small frame on the three-block walk to your house. You remembered when she brought the guitar to school to play for the other students during lunch time, which landed her in after-school detention after she scolded one of her teachers for confiscating it, claiming that they were “limiting creative expression” and telling them to “screw themselves”.

When Ellie’s father, Joel, came to pick up your sister's friends from her party, Ellie jokingly pinched your side and threw you a quick see ya, squirt! while her and her two friends laughed and waved their way out of your front door. Your face ran hot as you watched them—her—leave. You didn’t get to reply before they ran down your porch in a heap of giggles. Watch the road, nuggets! I don’t have life insurance! You remembered Joel calling out to them as they sprinted across the street.

When you turned eight years old, your mother gave you your very first authentic violin and bow, the black case wrapped in glittery, floral paper. As usual, your sister and her friends grabbed and shook your shoulders out of excitement and anticipation of seeing you play since they never have, which you politely declined. You have always shied away from revealing your natural talent due to your scalding fear of embarrassment, resulting in only your mother and violin teacher knowing your abilities. You blushed as your sister, Jesse, and Dina pressed on, pleading that you play at least a couple of chords for them, causing Ellie to playfully come to your defense with a high-spirited squeal of she’s shy, you heathens! leave her be before I kick all your asses!

From that moment on, you always looked up to Ellie and her comfortability with herself. You never thought that you would meet someone more confident than your sister, but Ellie had her beat for miles. Regardless of where she was or what she did, she moved with a confidence that you only dreamt of having at that age. You wanted so desperately to mimic her, but that annoying voice of doubt never failed to remind you of your place. You made sure your light was dimmed, always.

When your sister was twelve, she began to take music very seriously. She went from two flute sessions a week to five, only to return home and play some more. She’d even performed in some of her school's recitals (she vomited across the stage during her first performance, but a victory is a victory). You watched your mother scold her about not completing her homework as she stood practicing in the living room while you silently ate your dinner, which led to her half-heartedly completing her assignments with a frown on her face. Over the next year and a half, your sister's scolding started to get more intense as her grades dropped. She was never much of a scholar, but she never let her grades slip under as much as they had then. Although her music teacher was sending her home with nothing but praises after every lesson, your mom often received letters in the mail from your sister's school saying that her performance was concerning. You’d heard your mother reprimand her countless times, saying you’re not going to survive high school like this! look at what you’re doing! while your sister claimed I know exactly what I’m doing, I want to be better! I’m following my dreams! why aren’t you proud of me? They had exchanged more harsh words until you heard your sister's door slam shut and your mothers silently resigned to her room in defeat.

You heard your sister’s cries through your shared wall for a while, until a gentle voice—Ellie’s, you recognized—consoled her and told her to calm down until her whimpers silenced. You knew she had a habit of secretly climbing up into your sister's window to hang out when your mom didn’t allow company over, but you didn’t know that she also always showed up when your sister needed another source of comfort. You slowly got up and left your room, silently walking down the hall until you reached your sister's door. You wanted to knock and see if she was okay, but before you could do so, the door opened and out walked Ellie, clad in her usual dark jeans and T-shirt, bracelets covering her wrists in mass, and dirty, scuffed chucks and socks in hand. She jumped slightly when she witnessed someone waiting behind the door, but instantly relaxed when she realized it was you.

“Hey, squirt. Why are you creepin’ behind the door like that?” She whispered with a small chuckle, gently shutting your sister’s door.

“Sorry.” You whispered back. “I heard her crying and I wanted to check on her. How is she?”

“She’ll be fine. She got a headache and fell asleep. I was just tucking her in, don’t worry.” She gently said, looking down at you. “I was just about to head out. Mind lockin’ the front door for me?”

“Why don’t you just leave out the window again?”

She snorted before she asked, “Dude, do you know how hard it is to climb down that rickety ass ladder you guys have outside? I almost broke my neck climbing down that thing in that storm last month.”

You quietly laughed alongside her while she bent down to put her socks back on. “What are you doing up anyway? It’s late and you have class tomorrow.”

“So do you.” You said, raising an accusatory brow at her. “Plus, I'm not tired, I’m bored.”

“I’m not tired”, she said mockingly. “What do you wanna do right now?”

“Don’t you have to be home soon?”

She waited a second before a mischievous smirk creeped on her face, “Yeah, but who cares. C’mon.”

She grabbed your wrist before quickly pulling you back into your room and gently shutting the door behind you. She took note of your room: pink and purple everything. Your walls were drenched in white and pink stripes with giant, iridescent, butterfly stickers, your bedspread had small specks of glitter sprinkled across it, which shimmered from your pink and green fairy lamp. You had a small tv propped up on your dresser, which was covered in fairy and Disney princess stickers, at the front of your room. She couldn’t help but snicker at the mountain of plushies that crowded your bed and nightstand. However, she halted when she noticed a small glass case that held two violins with their bows. She recognized the first one: a gift from your mother on your eighth birthday that had lost some shine, and another, much glossier and more tuned than the latter. It looked barely used. A small burst of joy exploded in her chest at the thought of you playing even though she had never seen it. She was happy to know that your love for music still lived.

“Your room’s cute, dude, it’s making my skin crawl like crazy, holy fuck,” she said with a soft laugh, leaning back against your door.

“Don’t make fun of me, you freakin' metalhead! It’s pretty in here and I like it,” you said begrudgingly, “Your room's scary!”

She let out a loud laugh before she acknowledged your glass-guarded instruments, “You still play?”

She nodded towards your protected instruments. You nodded from your bed and excitedly said, “Yeah, come sit! I never had a slumber party before!”

You spent the night quietly watching Peter Pan, gossiping about how in love you were with him and how you wished you could fly. Ellie silently watched you talk with curious, wide eyes as you went on tangent after tangent. You talked about movies you loved and boys you liked (which she playfully gagged at), and music you liked to listen to when you were sad, and she internalized all of it. She had never seen this side of you before, but she was so intrigued that she didn’t notice her own intensity in her own eyes. You just kept going and going before you abruptly stopped, the brightness in your eyes dimming slightly as you looked at her.

“Sorry for talking a lot,” you said, embarrassed. “Am I annoying?”

“‘Course not, squirt,” she said confused, but immediately. “Why the hell would you think that?”

You didn’t say anything, but her affirmation reignited the fire in your eyes as your rambles started up again. She let you talk until you sloppily fell asleep across your pillows and plushies, tv still quietly playing in the background. She gently got up from her position, careful not to wake you, pulled your blankets over your frame, and stealthily left through your sister’s window. She made her way back home, envisioning you playing your violin for her one day.

Ellie became the person that you turned to whenever you needed reassurance. She’d never failed at making you feel acknowledged and seen and heard.

Age thirteen was the first time you anticipated the summer. Middle school had been a very disconnected period for you, and though many of your peers had experienced a sense of helplessness through these trine times of adolescence, yours was slowly overtaking your ability to feel excitement for anything. You had become so detached to the world around you and that annoying, discouraging voice had only spurred on your distance. This dark state that you entered caused you to separate from everyone, including your own family. Your last day of eighth grade was the giddiest you had felt in a long time, and you couldn’t wait to get back to your place of solitude—home.

Your sister entered her element in high school. Much to your mother’s delight, she was able to find a balance between fulfilling her dreams as a musical prodigy while staying afloat academically.

You had been attending your violin lessons for eight years, and though you were blessed with your musical perception, —according to your teacher—you never played in front of an audience. Though your teacher was eager to put you in the children’s orchestra that he trained, your mother did not want to push you into something you weren’t ready for, so she'd always decline politely.

In July, Dina invited you and your sister over to a pool party. Her parents were going to be out for the weekend, and she thought that it’d be the perfect time to be reckless. When you and your sister walked in with your towels and snacks in hand, she greeted you both with an excited squeal, beckoning you both to the backyard. Ellie, Dina’s older sister, Talia, and a few older girls that you didn’t recognize, were already in the water, splashing and laughing.

“Look who just arrived, cunts! My babies, my angels, the lights of my life— “

“Ay, shut the fuck up!” the blonde-haired girl yelled with a grin, causing Dina to flip her off and the others to laugh.

You modestly held your folded towel in your hand, smiling at their interaction. Your sister had already discarded her towel, shorts, and flip flops on a random beach chair before she cannonballed into the pool, causing everyone to swear and splash her. Dina then jumped in right behind her with a shout. They all blended so well, and you curled into yourself. Maybe you should go—

“Get over here, squirt! It’s hot as fuck out here,” Ellie shouted out with a smile, before a girl in a black bikini playfully jumped on her back, planting a light kiss on her shoulder. Something unfamiliar panged in your chest, but you nodded and slipped off your flip flops before making your way over to the pool stairs, slowly submerging yourself into the water.

“You’re still calling her squirt like she’s four, cut it out already,” Dina called out with a snort before she addressed you.

“I’m not sure if your sister ever mentioned anything about these losers but they’re some friends from school, that’s Cat, Abby, and Riley,” she said and pointed them out, “and they’re really fucking annoying—

“Shut the hell up before I drown you,” said Abby with a straight face.

“Yeah, keep talking to me like that— “

“ANYWAYS,” Ellie interrupted, “We missed you kid, where ya been?”

“Just at home, nothing crazy. I’m glad to finally be out, though.” I think I’m depressed, please don’t notice.

“She’s lying, I nearly had to drag her ass outta bed by her feet to detangle her hair this morning,” your sister corrected with an over dramatic eye roll.

“I’m just tired,” you said meekly. “School was hard these past two weeks.”

“I bet it was! Literally no one ever talks about how crazy middle school is! I damn near backflipped off the stage at our promotion,” Riley commented with a head shake, making Abby aggressively nod her head in agreement.

As the side conversations continued, your attention was overtaken by Ellie, who had moved to the opposite side of the pool to whisper something into the short-haired girl’s—Cat, who hasn’t acknowledged you yet—ear, which made her giggle and half-heartedly push Ellie away. The green-eyed girl didn’t budge, wrapping her arms around the girl's waist, pulling her closer and, much to your surprise, planting a quick kiss on her cheek. Cat had a tight grip on Ellie’s olive-green rash guard as she held her and shared soft whispers that you wished you heard. Was that her girlfriend? you thought. You knew Ellie liked girls due to her almost two-year long crush on Riley, which she confided in you and your sister about when she was fourteen. She had wildly knocked on your sister’s window in the middle of the night with a tear-stained face, frantically pacing and claiming that something was wrong with her.

Why the fuck do I want to kiss her and hold her hand whenever I see her?

This is bad, this is really really bad, guys, something’s wrong!

What do I do, how do I stop this!

You had never seen her so defeated, and her wet cheeks and scared eyes made your chest hurt with a sharp stab. Your sister had pulled her into a tight hug and quietly hummed a tune in her ear to soothe her sobs, while you gently rubbed her back and told her that she was going to be okay. She ended up staying the night, dozing off while holding one of your sister’s stuffed animals close to her chest while the two of you held her from both sides. You and your sister hadn’t slept in the same bed since she was six.

As the party slowly died down and Talia, who snuck away to her room much earlier, beckoned everyone inside with a get outta the pool you freaks! you’re gonna prune! from the back door, you all resigned inside to rinse off and change clothes before heading to the living room to watch a scary movie. You silently smacked on your sour gummy worms on the lone lounge chair as you watched Abby, Riley, and your sister cower behind pillows to block the screen while Dina snored loudly, while Cat and Ellie snuggled on a lounge chair. She had her chin propped up on the dark-haired girl’s head to see the screen while she rubbed her back.

As the film progressed, you saw the couple making small movements out of the corner of your eye. Cat began to subtly plant soft kisses on her cheek, neck, and shoulder, causing the auburn-haired girl to smirk, moving her head to the side to give her more access. You saw Ellie pull her girlfriend’s shirt up slightly, rubbing the exposed skin on her hip. You seemed to be the only one who noticed as the girls on the other couch squealed at another jump scare. Ellie and her girlfriend shared a more intense kiss, and you saw a glistening tongue poke out. That made you avert your gaze and you blushed, embarrassed that you were catching such an intimate moment. You quickly got up with a quick excuse of I gotta pee, making your way to the bathroom down the hall. Your face was boiling, and your heart pounded in your chest as you soaked your hands with icy water before wiping them down your face, that voice in the back of your head asking what the fuck your problem was.

You slowly looked up at your reflection in the mirror to center yourself, but your vision started to blur, and hands began to shake. You tried to take deep breaths; you tried you tried you tried but the air left your lungs as quickly as it entered.

Breathe, breathe breathebreathebreathe—

You jumped at the soft knock on the bathroom door, and you ripped it open without hesitation, revealing a concerned Ellie, Dina, and sibling, reaching out and asking if you were okay. How long were you there? You couldn’t speak or breathe or see so you swiftly shook your head no nonono—

Ellie and your sister guided you back to the living room and onto the couch. Ellie squatted down to your eye level, grabbing your face in her warm hands while your sister rubbed your back and Dina held your hand. The other girls’ expressions had been pulled down in concern as they watched your smaller frame tremble.

“Hey squirt, can you do me a favor? Can you breathe with me?”

“Cmon, deep breath in and hold it with me, follow me okay?” Ellie instructed. Your mimicked breaths were choked and broken, but she nodded her head at you in encouragement anyway, gently whispering a that’s it every time you shakily exhaled.

All the girls remained silent but attentive, allowing Ellie to control the situation. Riley had even gone to the kitchen to snag you a glass of water that she set on the coffee table. You tried to match Ellie’s breaths with yours, holding, in and out, holding, in and out, and you eventually calmed down. There was silence for a few minutes before Dina spoke.

“How do you feel, hun? You okay to talk now?” she asked softly while gently caressing your hand. You didn’t know how to answer, so you meekly nodded your head yes.

“Tell us what’s been going on with you. You’ve been so… MIA lately,” your friend noted, cringing slightly at her choice of words.

“I… I don’t know what’s wrong, I don’t know what… what’s happening to me—

“Shh, it’s alright, we’re gonna handle it, just try to relax for now. We’re leaving in a little, anyway,” your sister comforted. You felt Ellie’s calloused fingers gently rub your knee soothingly. You just wanted to lay down.

After some more hugs and forehead smooches from Dina, you and your sister packed up your things and headed home. You weren’t aware, but Ellie met your sister’s eyes with an intense gaze, quietly instructing her before you both left, (“You need to watch her tonight, do you understand? You watch her until tomorrow and you tell your mom what happened the second you get a chance”) which she immediately agreed to.

Your sister had held your hand tightly as you both made your way to your front porch. Your sister pulled out her semiquaver keychain, unlocking the door and quietly trudged inside. Your home was dark, meaning that your mother had already been in bed. Your sister hadn’t released the tight grip of your hand the entire trek upstairs. She opened her bedroom door, silently pulling you inside and made her way over to her dresser. She gave you a giant T-shirt to change into as she put her bonnet on. You both brushed your teeth and washed your face before heading over to her bed. You laid down facing each other, tucked under the blankets. You both looked at each other in silence, but she broke it.

“I want you to tell me why that happened, no bullshit.”

You didn’t reply. You were tired.

“Please tell me what’s wrong.” She pressed on. You noted the desperation in her eyes. Your heart was hurting.

Silence.

Her eyes shut in defeat before she turned her back to you. Your eyes burned into the worn shirt she wore. Just say it, the voice in your head screamed at you, tell her how worthless you are!

Silence.

And then an exhale.

“I think I need to talk to someone.”

You did not expect the rest of your summer to be filled with therapy sessions and journal entries. When your sister told your mother about the events of that night, much to your dismay, she immediately made some phone calls and scheduled sessions twice a week. You had to pause your violin sessions for a few weeks, and you missed it, but you knew this was more important. Your mother expressed her remorse for not paying closer attention to your behavior. Your distance, your lack of energy, your reluctance to speak, your silence—God, your silence. You were screaming without a word. She felt that she’d failed you, and she wanted to do as much as she could to reignite that light in your eyes.

You hadn’t looked forward to these meetings in the beginning, but you soon grew to like your therapist. Even though your feelings were confusing and unfamiliar to you, she was in no rush to get answers out of you. She allowed you to speak at your own pace and listened to every minor detail. She concluded that your self-doubt has bubbled over into anxiety: she recommended you journaling. She wanted you to document one thing that you loved about yourself everyday (“It can be anything: appearance, personality, talents. Whatever you wish. Just make sure you mean it”).

And so, you did.

The next month flew by, the last bits of summer slowly easing into fall, and you were going to start your first year of high school. Your mother and sister had noticed a slight change in your behavior during your break: you started eating dinner with them instead of in your room, asked how their day went, what their week looked like. Your sister would ramble about how stressed she was for her last year but also how excited she was to perform with the school’s orchestra at the December recital and, for the first time in what felt like forever, you rambled back. Your mother had listened from the kitchen as you two gossiped, argued, and even planned to play music together in the future. Her heart swelled. You also started hanging out with Dina, Ellie, Jesse, and your sister a lot more: one night, you followed them back to Joel and Ellie’s garage to watch them freestyle on some of his used instruments. Jesse, who babbled to you about his new love for drumming, demonstrated some techniques he had adapted from Joel on his old drum set while your sister nodded her head along to the beats he made. Dina was already improvising on their brand new sixty-one key keyboard, headphones on to tune out the noise the four of you were making. Ellie, who had stepped away to answer her girlfriend’s call, had her father’s bright green, electric bullet mustang strapped around her chest. She noticed you staring and sent you a thumbs up, you giving one back. She sent you a wink and a smile before turning away to continue her conversation. Your heartbeat increased.

Ellie had become much more attentive after that night at the party. She had always been protective of you, but her desire to talk to you increased tenfold. She would text you fried memes in the middle of the night or leave voice memos about how her dad was helping her customize his old electric guitar. She chattered about wanting to record the entire process for all of you to see.

i feel like if i help my dad with anything he’ll wring my neck :| he’s so particular abt instruments it’s annoying

that sucks :( but at least he cares!! he’s just passionate and wants u to play the best.

he gave it to ME tho. the guitar is mine now!! i should have some input on how it looks be on my side!!! >:/

i am!! just be patient with him. ur gonna be shredding w it soon enough :D

And she also never failed to check in on you for more serious matters, either. She never pressed for information, not wanting to overstep, but she always ensured that you had a safe space to discuss anything you wanted with her. After some of your meetings, you would already have a text from her asking how your session went and what you learned. You would send her voice memos about some of your therapist’s pointers about communication and how you were trying to improve that skill for your family, especially your mom. She also provided some advice about what helped her regain her footing in conversation, joking that no one could ever get me to shut the hell up at the end of the day! that’s for damn sure.

Ellie wasn’t aware, but you started writing about her in your journal, as well. Small, little excerpts of what you liked about her and how she made you feel. How caring she was. How she made your heart beat fast whenever she was around. How strong she felt when she pulled you in for a tight hug while whispering about how she missed you—

Oh.

You were helpless… and gay.

It was late into November. You were fourteen and elated.

Not only had you slowly eased back into music, but you had friends. That you made on your own. You knew that your sister and her friends didn’t want to drag you along everywhere they went, both on and off campus, so you began to explore other paths by yourself. Swiftly after the school year started, you joined the campus orchestra, and while you were terrified, you were excited. Impassioned. Hopeful.

There were all types of groups that passed through the practice room. Students of all grades hung out, ate, and studied there: you were shocked at the number of students that lounged in the designated nerd hotspot during their free time. This is nothing like the movies, you had thought. You noted that the room was not as busy on Thursdays during lunch, and you thought it would be a good time to tune out the outside world and throw yourself into music again. One Thursday, you walked in on a group of juniors whispering and giggling about something you couldn’t hear. You looked around and noticed one of the girls from your biology class—Arya, you remembered—pushed off into a corner by herself, on her knees and hurriedly shoving her things into her backpack. She looked upset.

She looked sad.

The juniors had been talking about her.

You had your violin case and lunch in hand as you slowly made your way past the juniors and in front of her. You noticed her tear-stained cheeks shining under the white light of the room as you got closer. You softly greeted her, making her jump and eyes harden.

“Hey, Arya, you alright?” You whispered, squatting down to her level.

“What do you think,” She whispered back harshly, continuing to shove her books into her pack. “Does it look like I’m alright? If you’re here to laugh you can honestly fuck off.”

You’d flinched at her tone but pressed on. “I didn’t walk all the way here to laugh at you. Let's go somewhere else, we can eat together, if you want!”

You could tell she had questioned your enthusiasm. She looked at you skeptically before looking behind you, at the juniors, and then back at you. You didn’t budge. She slowly rose to her feet, swung her backpack over her shoulder, grabbed her instrument case from the floor—hm, clarinet— and softly nodded. You both leaving caused the juniors to laugh harder.

You didn’t care.

You and Arya have done everything together since that day. She was eager to introduce you to her two friends, Starr and Kris, who you clicked with immediately. The second they sat you down, they raged about how much they hated the writers of Vampire Diaries due to how they treated Kat Graham, how they joked about hating talented people like you and Arya, what they wanted their future weddings to look like (Kris and her Pinterest boards), and you laughed.

You were calm.

You were happy.

Your first year of high school flew by.

Your sister earned her flute solo at the December recital, earning a standing ovation from the audience of students and parents. You and your mother screamed the loudest for her.

At Dina’s eighteenth birthday party, you, Ellie, and your sister walked in on her and Jesse tonguing each other down in the kitchen. Ellie let out a hardy laugh of are you fuckers serious! right in front of my salad? while your sister fell to the floor in hysterics. You had shielded your eyes.

April came around and so did prom season. Your sister said that she had been anticipating the event since seventh grade and you, your mom, and Dina were dragged along to her fitting. She had texted Ellie to come, but she swiftly declined, claiming that she couldn’t hide my fat dick in a dress! love you tho! buy me an elf bar? :3

You missed her so much.

On the evening of prom, your sister, Dina, Jesse, and Ellie all pitched in to rent a limo. Your sister, gorgeous as always, was draped in a strapless, floral gown that cinched her waist and bloomed at her hips and her twists were pinned up to show her neckline and back. Dina wore a flowy, black dress with a leg slit. Ellie and Jesse were dressed to a T in classic black suits, him in loafers and her in beat up Vans with her usual messy, low bun.

Your parents had all met at Joel’s house for pictures and semi-alcoholic drinks. You were touching up your sister’s makeup at Ellie’s desk in her room when you felt too familiar hands pinch your sides with a soft, hey squirt. You jumped, almost mussing up your sister’s liner, causing her to kick the hell out of Ellie’s calf. She feigned an ache before hitting her mint elf bar, blowing it away from both of your faces.

“Don’t fucking play with me right now bitch, I mean it, this is serious business,” your sister had said to her.

“Oh shut the hell up, it’s three hours of musty people dancing, it’s not that serious,” Ellie said before turning to you, “Check your sister, dude.”

“El, please shut up,” you said to her. “Just hold still, I'm almost done, god you’re both annoying!”

You worked as quickly as you could, slightly smudging the liner on her waterline until you were satisfied, “…aaaand done. Tell me how it looks right quick.”

She inspected her appearance, pressing on her baby hairs before turning and giving you a fat smooch, “Thank you baby! It’s perfect, now move, I gotta piss before we go.”

Your sister jumped up from Ellie’s chair, holding her dress up while flipping her off and lightly sprinting down the hall to the bathroom, which left you both giggling.

A bored Ellie had made her way over to her bed while you worked, laid out across it, silently puffing on her nic before saying, “I don’t know how you deal with her sometimes.”

“Me neither, honestly,” you replied, smiling. “Where’s Cat?”

“Somewhere being annoying. We had an argument last night.”

“Yikes, sorry I asked.”

She sat up before shrugging, beckoning you to sit next to her in the bed, “You’re good. She felt a way about my promposal. She went off about me not putting that much effort into the sign I made and waiting until the last minute to ask. It was petty.”

You snorted with a head shake as you watched her breathe menthol out her nose.

“Don’t laugh at my shortcomings! Wait ‘til you get a boyfriend, he’s gonna forget about prom too! It’s dumb.”

You froze. Boyfriend. Boyfriend? You laughed sheepishly with another shake of your head. She noticed your reaction before you could even reply. She smirked in acknowledgement.

“… or partner. Your partner might forget.” She quietly corrected with a sly grin.

“If you say anything I’ll strangle you and burn your corpse.”

“Oh my fucking god, did you forget that I lived in the closet for almost five years straight?! You’re fine.”

She took another puff before asking, “Anybody steal your heart yet?”

“Please be serious, I haven’t even had my first kiss yet. How do you even talk to girls without dying?” You said with a pout.

She almost fell over as she giggled. “You talk to girls like you talk to everyone else, you’re gonna charm them regardless. Trust me.”

You felt your face heat up at the subtle compliment, but you gave her an eye roll and light shove before your sister came trucking down the hallway with her heels in hand. She shrieked out a limo’s here! before flying down the stairs. Ellie took one more long puff of her pale green vape before tucking it into her jacket pocket, wrapping her arms around your smaller frame as she guided you downstairs.

She smelled like mint menthol and pine trees. You loved how she smelled.

Summer came, and you’d fully accepted your big, fat crush on Ellie.

Your journal had been riddled with doodles of her name surrounded by hearts and sparkles, written words of affection through poetry, more hearts and sparkles. You couldn’t stop thinking about her: everything that she said, everything she did, did something to you. But you didn’t know that the fluttering in your chest whenever she was around would be short lived.

Your sister had spent her eighteenth birthday at Cat’s family lake house. As much as you wanted to be a fly on the wall and watch your sister go crazy, you had to settle with viewing her private story from your warm bed on Friday night. It was a mess: she had posted multiple snaps of Ellie, Dina, Jesse, and herself taking shot after shot, chug after chug, until she posted a photo of Jesse’s head hanging out of a second story window with Dina’s hand on his back and Ellie cheesing wide with her two thumbs up, nic in hand. Her next snap, however, made your smile drop from your face.

The footage was a close—too close—up shot of Ellie and Cat making out against the wall. Ellie had her girlfriend trapped between her and the wood, both hands cradling her face as she dominated the kiss. She was grinding her hips up to meet the dark-haired girl’s, pressing her body further into the wall. Ellie then dropped her hands to her girlfriend’s hips, grabbing her short dress in her larger hands to pull her even closer. You barely noticed due to the shakiness of the camera, but you saw the pink glisten of your good friend's tongue swiping up into her girl's mouth before the snap ended.

You'd nearly dropped your phone on your face.

The clip had been hilarious out of context: the loud booming of clap clap clap that ass bitch, shake that cameltoe, lemme see them pussy lips! with your sister screaming and shaking like crazy in the background, Jesse behind the couple hurling his guts out of a window, and his concerned girlfriend pouting with a turquoise bong and lighter in her hand. Anyone would’ve found it comedic gold, but you?

Your stomach had twisted uncomfortably, not only from jealousy, but from a burning, swirling heat.

You dropped your phone on your bed and sat up as angry tears blurred your vision. You knew her and her girlfriend had been on and off for a while now, so why did it affect you so deeply to see them together? How stupid could you be? you thought she wanted you after all this time? a voice that you hadn’t heard in a while said to you. You’d recognized that tremor in your hands and pick-up of your heart, and you knew that you couldn’t be alone tonight. You sent a quick SOS text to your friends in the group chat, desperately seeking comfort. Arya, ever the angel, was the first to respond with a quick and simple omw rn, stealing her brother’s car keys to pick up Kris and Starr and flew straight to your house.

The girls held you while you sobbed, gently shushing you and encouraging you to take deep breaths.

Breathe with me, squirt, there ya go.

You wished that voice didn’t sound so much like hers.

Your sister and her friends had returned home Sunday night, hungover and exhausted like hell. You hadn’t moved from your bed all weekend, and you hadn’t wanted to get up to help her drag her bags in. You immediately recognized the laughter that came from downstairs, and your heart shook painfully in your chest. Their voices were muffled due to your door being shut, but you heard a cheerful I’ll go get her leave your sister’s mouth before the sound of her rushed footsteps flooded the quiet hallway.

You quickly flipped over so your back faced the door, your blanket thrown over your body as you pretended to sleep.

You heard your door open, some shuffling, before it was gently shut again. You listened to your sister shuffle back downstairs and you heard a faint she’s slumped…. tomorrow or something…

Their chatter and laughter continued into the night while you moped in your room. Your phone had pinged around eleven, a pop-up of sleep well, squirt:3 on your home screen.

You turned your phone off and threw it on your nightstand, shutting your eyes, praying for sleep to come.

You dreamt of green and pine trees.

You had begun your sophomore year, and your friends had been a good distraction from the inner turmoil of your heart. During the last bits of your vacation, Ellie had been texting you non-stop, eager to play you the completed version of a song she’d been working on for the past five months. She’d even finished customizing her father’s passed down electric guitar: you only knew because you frequently checked her Instagram, despite the ache you felt in your chest when you saw the posts of her and her girlfriend doing cute couple shit. Her guitar had been airbrushed raven black with silver strings, and a detailed white and green skull that she painted on the body. She’d sent you and your sister the entire video of her creation as promised, but you'd only replied with a dry thumbs up emoji. Her suspicions were correct: something serious was going on with you.

After your sister’s birthday weekend in July, Ellie texted you multiple times to come help her and Dina mix a song and watch movies, but you politely declined saying that you were busy and maybe another time :)! It technically wasn’t a lie: your sister came to your defense when she asked where you were, saying that your trigonometry grade had dropped significantly after your first test, and you were desperate to get it up before your mother noticed. She had accepted that excuse for the first two weeks, but after your sixth reply of busy :( rain check? she got agitated.

She started pressing your sister about your attitude after the first month without your knowledge, but she swiftly got brushed off with a dude, she's studying at her friend's house, can you relax and pack this bowl for me please?

Ellie laid in her bed after her hotbox with her friends, confused as to why you were acting so stiff with her so suddenly. Whenever she came over to your house, you locked yourself in your room and didn’t come out to greet her for whatever reason. She had been this close to marching to your house and kicking your bedroom door down herself before she received a notification that you had updated your private story. She clicked it, and played a video of one of your friends with a flyswatter in hand yelling about how she was a world-renowned mosquito killer until the bug started flying around the unfamiliar room. Multiple shrieks, including yours, were heard before the video abruptly ended.

Ellie swiped up on your story with a quick LOOOOOOL, but she wasn’t laughing. I guess she really was busy doing something, she thought. She felt bad for assuming that you had been purposefully avoiding her, but she was not used to you being unavailable. She was a clingy high, sue her.

She clicked her phone off and hoped she would see you soon.

Ellie’s eighteenth birthday had been two weeks away.

Her birthday never felt like her own; Her dad had always made a big deal about the celebration. He spent hours blowing up balloons for her eleventh, baking cupcakes(even though he nearly burned their entire house down) for her fourteenth, and bragged to the cashier at the vinyl shop about how much of an old soul his baby girl was(“Oh this isn’t for me, my daughter is obsessed with the oldies, I really rubbed off on her, she’s turning sixteen tomorrow and I wanna surprise her!”). She’d never complained, though. She’d never say, but she loved seeing him happy more than anything in the world.

However, her attitude towards her eighteenth birthday had been different. She was eager to celebrate her transition into adulthood with the people she loved the most. She knew that she wanted a slasher themed party with blood and gore everywhere. Her inner horror movie fan had been gasping for water for years, and she was finally going to quench her thirst.

Call her Jason.

You and your sister were arguing about who would dress up as Scream.

Ellie had given your sister an invitation to her big eighteenth, and although you were reluctant about going, your guilt had slowly been gnawing at you. The last message that Ellie sent you was almost three weeks ago: a simple miss u, which you left unread. You thought it was strange how no one acknowledged the tension between the two of you, but you hardly understood it yourself, and you began to feel remorseful.

You owed her an apology, and you planned to do it tonight.

“You’re not dressing up as Scream, bitch, I’m sorry! I got you this Jack the Ripper cape, try it on.” she said as she threw the cape and top hat on your bed.

“Jack the Ripper was racist, fact— “

“Most serial killers are! It’s for aesthetic purposes only! There’s no such thing as a moral compass on Halloween.”

You stared at her with a blank expression, before she resigned, retrieving the fit, “Ugh, fine, go as one of the most iconic slashers in film history, see if I give a damn.”

“Waaaaaa, you mad.” You said with a laugh.

She yelled back a DUH! as she marched down the hall and into the bathroom to change. Your mom wasn’t supportive of the slasher costume party, but she stood no chance against your sister’s persuasive pout and googly eyes.

An hour later, you both were dressed with your gifts in hand as your mother locked the door behind you. You couldn’t begin to imagine the reaction of your neighbors if they peeped out of their windows since Halloween wasn’t for another two weeks. They better not call the fucking cops, that's all I know! your sister shouted out into the quiet neighborhood before you shushed her.

Despite the anxiety in the pit of your stomach, you were eager to see Ellie. You and your sister had pitched in to get custom-made, embroidered guitar pics as her gift: you were hoping that she liked them.

It wasn’t long before you made it onto the Miller residence. Your sister scaled the stairs of their front porch like it was a mountain before banging on the door. It shot open seconds later and revealed Dina, dressed as Freddy Krueger, and Jesse as… Saw.

That mask always made an uncomfortable shiver go down your spine.

They both pulled you and your sister into tight hugs before pulling you further inside to shut the door. The entire downstairs area was lit with red LED lights with faux cobwebs spread across the kitchen and living room walls. You and your sister almost slipped on the fake blood that was splattered all over the wooden floor. There was a giant bowl of tooth-rotting chocolate and a bag of sour gummies on the counter, right next to the multitude of Jason figurines. There was also eerie music playing from Ellie’s speaker near the TV.

You couldn’t believe you had a crush on this loser.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD IM SO FUCKING EXCITED THIS IS GOING TO BE SO MUCH FUN HOLY SHIT— “

Your sister, then Dina, had already been trucking back up the stairs, as they released excited squeals, which only ignited more excited squeals from other voices you barely recognized.

Jesse threw his arms around you as he pulled you inside.

“Bro, where the fuck have you been, I haven’t seen you in ages!” He said, voice muffled under his mask and over the bass from the speakers.

“I know, I’m sorry, school is crazy right now, but I’m here now,” you said with a smile and just as muffled, walking over to the counter to rip open the sour gummy bag. “Are we supposed to be upstairs or something?”

“Nah, Cat and Riley, you remember Riley, are finishing up their costumes. They really went all out with the decor though, I was impressed.”

Your smile fell at the mention of her girlfriend, and you immediately knew that you weren’t going to have fun. You lifted your mask up to shove candied worms into your mouth in attempts to center yourself.

After ten minutes of ravishing the tart candies on the kitchen barstool, you heard quick, heavy footsteps descend the stairs.

You turned to see Ellie, Abby, Dina, Riley, Cat, and your sister descend the stairs, jumping excitedly at your get-up, laughing at your mask. You barely had the chance to stand from your seat and greet everyone before Ellie pushed past them to pull you into a rib-cracking hug. You could hardly move to return the gesture.

“I missed you so much, squirt, holy shit,” she whispered into your ear. You would’ve dropped to your knees if it wasn’t for her grip. “Where have you been, are you doing okay?”

She pulled back slightly to look at your face while both your masks were atop your heads, and you got a good look at her freckled appearance. Her hair was styled in a half bun with multicolored bobby pins holding her bangs back. She was wearing light makeup: her nose and cheeks were gently highlighted, her under eyes had a dark red tinted liner that was smudged with purpose, and she shaved a slit into her eyebrow. She had on a black T-shirt that had been cut and ripped in some parts, black, ripped jeans, and an oversized, dark olive-green flannel. The sleeves were rolled up and you damn near fainted at the subtle lines of an unfinished tattoo peeking out. She also had a plastic version of Jason’s large, bloody machete secured through the belt loop of her jeans.

Holy shit.

Your face was burning hot from how close her face was to yours. “Hi El, I’m fine, happy birthday,” you said quietly, half chewing the worms in your mouth.

You turned to grab her small, wrapped gift box off the counter, softly shoving it into her chest in attempts to distract her from pressing about your whereabouts, and though you noticed her eyebrows pull down in concern, she grabbed the box from your hands before replying a gentle thank you.

Your sister slapped Ellie on the back, breaking up the moment, begging to change the music genre before dragging her to the living room to unlock her phone.

I can’t shake ass to this shit, bitch! Change it now!

I NEED A ONE DANCE, GOT A HENNESSY IN MY HAND—

It was almost eleven. Everyone had migrated to the living room after Ellie finally turned off her summoning demons :0 playlist and allowed your sister to shuffle Spotify’s Top 40 from 2016. After Riley skipped every non-Rihanna song for the first thirty minutes, Abby snatched the phone from her hands and put Drake on. They both were on top of the couch, screaming into wooden spoons like they were microphones while Jesse, Dina, and your sister jokingly popped their backs.

You had fallen back onto a lounge chair to catch your breath from the rigorous jumping you were doing, watching them all sing their lungs out.

You had the opportunity to briefly speak to Abby, who dressed up as a bloody Esther, during Riley’s incessant song-skipping since you never had the chance to genuinely talk to her. She excitedly told you about how she and Riley had been best friends since fifth grade and they both met Ellie in middle school. She cringed when she reminisced on the memory of Ellie giving Riley a glitter-riddled macaroni card for Valentine’s Day in seventh grade. Abby and Riley both graduated a year before your sister and friends did and were sophomores at Boston University, her pursuing her hockey career and Riley studying neuroscience.

The shrilling screams of Dina, Abby, and your sister when Single Ladies blasted through the speakers made you jump in your seat before you got up and made your way into the kitchen for water (and more gummies). Babe you’re not single! you heard Jesse yell to Dina.

You stood at the counter chomping on the sweets, contemplating when would be the best time to speak to Ellie one-on-one. You'd seen her escape onto the back patio, probably to smoke, you thought. You had never been confrontational, and you didn’t want to say something you regretted like hi ellie i’ve been in love with you for years i’m so sorry for ignoring you and iloveyouiloveyou—

Yeah, you’d probably leave with a black eye from her girlfriend if you did that. Just say you're sorry, don’t be selfish, don’t ruin her birthday, don’t ruin her relationship, you thought. now or never.

After your mental pep talk, you took a sip from your glass and shoved a handful of the candies in your mouth as a center. You made your way to the back door and onto the patio. Hot ass mask, you thought before ripping it off your head and tossing it onto the glass patio table.

What you weren’t expecting to see was Cat and Ellie already outside having a conversation, and from where you were standing, it looked intense.

“Why the fuck are you mad about me hugging her when I haven’t seen her in ages?”

And you froze.

“Ellie, if you can’t see that she has the biggest crush on you then you're actually delusional,” Cat spat back at her. “And that wasn’t just a regular hug either! You should’ve seen her face when you grabbed her, it looked like she was about to drop to her knees and propose!”

They couldn’t see you from where you stood and it would’ve been in your best interest to flee before you passed out from embarrassment and loathing, but your feet had been glued to the ground and you were forced to listen to their harsh exchange.

“First off, watch your mouth, I’m not fucking delusional,” the birthday girl heatedly said back. “And no she didn’t! And even if she did it doesn’t fucking matter. She's a fucking kid!”

And you’d felt your heart plummet to your feet.

The remainder of the candies in your mouth felt like sandpaper and you couldn’t swallow. You felt the all too familiar tremors of your hands start to pick up.

“Listen,” you heard her tone soften. “I’m in love with you, okay? I love you, and I don’t want to be with anyone else. I don’t think about being with anyone else.”

The sharp gasp you sucked in made both heads turn towards you in shock, and your teary eyes locked with wide, green ones.

You wanted to fall through the floor and die.

Cat scoffed and shook her head as if to say see what I mean before she puffed on her—Ellie’s—vape.

Ellie’s call of your name snapped you out of your stupor, your feet moving before your brain could tell them to, clumsily shuffling your way back into your heartbreaker’s home, sliding the door shut with a loud slam.

Everyone who’d been dancing jumped at the sound, turning to take in your ruffled state as their energetic smiles slowly dropped in concern.

“What’s the matter, honey?” Dina said gently over the still loud music.

Your sister called your name out with worry in her voice. You looked into her eyes with a head shake before you choked out a reply.

“Can we… I wanna leave, please, now.”

a/n: heyyyy lol so yeah thats that ig. if anyone even reads or sees this fic plss be nice to me ive never written anything like this b4. idk how long this will be but its def gonna be long,,, lots of ground 2 cover w this universe this game is everything 2 me and so is ellie so ye bye lolz

read pt 2 here :D

937 notes · View notes

ellecdc · 2 months

Note

Hey girl I loved cbbh! You’re so relented. Could you do dating head canons similar to the ones you did for regulus but with James? Have a nice day🫶🏻

Thanks so much dolly! Glad you enjoyed - here's your request!!!

A/N: Still figuring out the best formatting for these - each new text block = a headcanon, bullets are subcategories

Dating James Potter Headcanons

This man is an open book: whatever he is thinking, feeling, doing, is written all over his face

Cannot lie to save his life – therefore he is never the lookout for their pranks

It also means he can never surprise you because he gets too excited – he’s gone xmas shopping/shopping for your bday? You may as well open it the second he gets home; he’ll buy you another one anyway

Opposites attract is the motto James Potter lives by - this man’s soulmate will either be the black cat to his golden retriever, or the shy/quiet to his loud and outgoing, the introvert to his extrovert etc etc

Does not understand the concept of boundaries/personal space – THIS DOES NOT MEAN HE DOESN’T RESPECT BOUNDARIES – but he will be up in your personal space 24/7, sitting nearly on top of you, following you around, walking in on you changing without batting an eye, try feeding you or taking food right off your plate. I don’t know if it’s the only child thing, but he just does not seem to mind being all up in other people’s business

He’s very understanding if you tell him to back off though – will respect your boundaries (you just have to set them)

I actually don’t think James would be super into showering gifts all of the time, like he will absolutely buy you anything you want, but he’s not the kind of boyfriend to show up with gifts and trinkets or purses or new outfits/clothes/jewelry all of the time – at least not at first

I think this is because he grew up always just having what he wanted/needed so never thinks of it? It’s only when he’ll go out shopping for a specific reason that he accidentally comes home with 293843209473 unnecessary things that made him think of you or that you’d like or that would look pretty on you etc. etc.

He is 100000000000000% acts of service dude (at least in my mind)

Need the snow shoveled? Done

Need your oil changed? Done

Need to run to the store for something? His shoes are on

He definitely had to wear you down (as he is the opposite of you…hopeless romantic + the person who thinks they’re unlovable etc, etc)

In this day an age of consent and harassment etc, I don’t imagine him being the kind of guy who was like super annoying about it (even though you certainly got annoyed) but he was really polite about it

“Hi Y/N! fancy a trip with me to Hogsmeade this weekend?”

“In your dreams Potter.”

“Got it! Have a nice week.”

And then a few weeks later he’d try again

I think his 24/7 bubbliness freaked you out a bit – no one could ever possibly be that happy all of the time

He finally wore you down when you realized he could take things seriously

You’d gotten a rather painful letter from home and had secluded yourself into an empty classroom to cry in peace (this damn school is so big yet there’s nowhere to get some privacy!?)

“Y/N?” a timid voice from the doorway called to you

You sighed and tried to wipe the tears from your eyes in vain

“What do you want, Potter?”

He walked into the room and sat down across from you “Are you okay?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes as fresh tears escaped you. “I think it’s pretty clear I’m not.”

He offered you a small smile. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head and looked to the ceiling in an attempt to stop the flow of tears

“Don’t stop crying, not on my account, not if you’re not ready to.”

You looked at him in bewilderment before you realized his face was solemn and sincere

A sob escaped you

Slowly, James moved from his spot across from you to take a seat beside you and just opened his arms – an invitation

You considered the fact that there was a chance you would regret it, but you couldn’t deny how inviting his embrace appeared

THIS MAN GIVES THE BEST HUGS I’m sorry there’s no if’s and’s or but’s. even in his platonic relationships – all his friends are like “James is the best hugger and best cuddler”

He never pressed you to talk about what had you so upset that day – just to let you know that you always could talk to him if you needed to

It’s like you saw him as a real human being for a minute: not a pureblood, not a quidditch player, not a marauder…just James.

It was refreshing

You agreed to go to Hogsmeade with him that weekend

It was a little awkward – you could tell he never really planned to get this far

You asked him questions about himself, and he seemed to loosen up fairly quickly after that

He was so excited to tell you about his friends, his parents, childhood pets, career aspirations

You’d ask follow-up questions and found yourself laughing at different anecdotes or side stories

Every time he’d answer one of your questions, he’d flip it back onto you

At first you thought he was making fun of you/being condescending when you’d tell a story because he was so, so, so into it. Like almost cartoonish in the way he dialed into your every word

You soon realized he was actually just so unbelievably interested in anything and everything you had to say and so grateful you were sharing with him

That never changed – he hung onto your every word throughout your entire relationship

He wants to be touching – all of the time

Walking? Holding hands

Sitting beside each other? Shoulders/thighs/knees/ankles are connected

Lounging on the couch? You’re on his lap

Studying? You’re sitting in the same chair and his chin is hooked over your shoulder

He’s a loud lover – aka, PDA, everyone who knows either of you knows that you’re together. He’s rarely seen in public without you and if you’re not there he’s probably talking about you

I could actually see James getting quite jealous/territorial

He’d try so hard to play it cool at a party if you were sitting on the couch and some other guy started hitting on you

He trusted you! He didn’t have to be standing guard at every given moment

Everyone knew you were together anyway, it was probably harmless

Ain’t nothing harmless about his hand placement what the fuck???

And suddenly he’s sliding in between you and Slime Ball ™ as he’s now dubbed the arse who dared make a move on his perfect angel thank you very much

Definitely the type to get into a fight if someone shoved you/bumped into you at a party or club

Especially if they didn’t immediately apologize to his sweet angel baby

Fuckers

He’d be talking about yours and his shared future home/life/family from nearly the very beginning of your relationship

He’d actually been imagining it for years before that, but he wasn’t going to admit that out loud

He’d be the kind of guy to have children’s names picked out – he’d get so excited any time you said something like “awe, Aurelia, that’s a sweet name” and he’d write it down somewhere for future use

James is absolutely the type of boyfriend where you’d never have to wonder exactly how they felt about you – you would know how treasured you are from the moment you wake up to the second you fall asleep

Sometimes, you’d even feel the depth of his love in your dreams

#james potter fluff #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #ask elle #james potter #james potter headcanon #dating James Potter #dating James Potter headcanons #james fleamont potter #jfp #ellecdc fics

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almightyellie · 2 years

Text

all your'n

in which you both know that he loves you. of course, you do.

word count is 1.6k

author says i simply love jake seresin, but not as much as i love a wedding date fic <3

title inspo is all your'n by tyler childers

“you two are a beautiful couple.”

an hour and a half ago, you might have corrected jake’s aunt (cousin?), but how many times can you smile politely and say, oh, just friends, actually and face that expression, half confused and half disappointed? now, you and jake just smile, and jake squeezes your waist while you say, “that’s so sweet, thank you.”

a wedding had seemed like an easy favor, but now you wonder how it ever could be. a room full of seresins, a little boozy and high off a joining of two souls. they’re as southern as southern comes, and the thrill of love and alcohol only further emphasizes this. jake laughs softly in your ear, squeezing you close.

he should have known that this would happen—you have a sneaking suspicion that maybe he did—but he had a little extra faith in his family, hoping they would be focused only on his baby sister on her day. you can tell she kind of loves it, though, because every time you catch her eye with a silent plea for help, she giggles and claps. she’s almost as bad as her brother.

neither of them are half as bad as their mother.

“isn’t it wonderful?” she croons, holding the two of you together. “i’ve been telling them to get together for years. they finally listened.” she finishes with a wink in your direction and a knowing smile. she truly had been telling you two to get together as long as she’s known you, but she’s taking this opportunity to really play it up.

you pinch jake’s side, sharing a knowing look with him. his tux offsets his tanned skin beautifully despite his complaints. beth had insisted he not wear his uniform (“don’t steal my limelight, asshole!”) to her civilian wedding, and though you loved a chance to see him in his uniform, it had been years since you’d seen him in any non-military formal wear. oh, was it a sight.

with a soft smile, he nods once. “c’mon, sweetheart,” he goads. “i think you’ve earned a drink.”

it’s almost a struggle to get to the bar unscathed, but it’s oh so worth it when you do and jake pays for your drink. “you shouldn’t have, babe,” you giggle.

he laughs good-naturedly. “you’re annoying. sit down.”

jake’s feeling like a real big man with you on his arm, looking so right and pretty. he’s been looking forward to this for weeks; any excuse to spend a few hours with you making him look better. he has to admit, his family is right. the two of you are a damn fine couple, and the ache he’s gotten so used to hurts a little more than normal.

you’ve known one another for years. somedays, jake thinks you know him better than he knows himself. most days, though, he knows that couldn’t possibly be true. if you knew him better than he knew himself, you would know that sometimes you smile at him and he gets a head rush. you would know that he lies awake at night just in case you text him something ridiculous about your cat or your job. you can’t know that just the sight of you makes his heart pound and his mouth dry because if you did, you would never look at him the same. you could never treat him like he’s just jake ever again, because you would know that you weren’t, and never had been, just you. you had always been everything.

you know a little more than you let on, but you won’t ever bring it up. he hadn’t always been so obvious, but since his return from top gun, he’s been just slightly different. you can’t know the specifics, but you know that he’s had a change of heart; he’s a little more open, a little more apologetic. a little less subtle. your best friend has such an ego, he might never survive if you told him that his jealousy, that his almost-yearning has been clear as day for the last few months.

he doesn’t realize that he’s been staring until you tilt your head at him with the sweetest smile he’s ever seen. “what?” you ask, taking a long pull from your water.

“i like this,” he answers honestly, brushing his knuckles softly against your hairline.

you smile disbelievingly at him, slightly incredulous. “like what?”

his cheeks pinken up and his smile, though still trying to pull off that smug act, can’t fool you. he’s bashful. “i just mean…that i like when we’re together.”

with a quiet laugh, you say, “well, i should hope so. we’ve spent the last ten years glued together.” the song changes and he loses what little nerve he managed to scrape together, so he finishes your water and nods when you insist, “come dance with me.”

“the road cones blur like memories of the miles we shared between,” he sings easily, wrapping one of his arms around your waist and grabbing your hand with the other. it’s one of his favorites, one you know far too well, and you’re happy to let him hum in your ear. he’s only a little tone-deaf—he struggles with the higher notes, and it’s such a familiar sound that you melt into his chest.

with his mouth against your ear and his thumb stroking circles against the back of your hand, you two sway on the dance floor. you like this, too. you like the way he holds you, how he smiles at you like you’re the only person he can see. you like when he sings to you even though you always jeer him, even though there are people around, even though he doesn’t need to.

the lights strung across the venue ceiling reflect in your eyes when you pull back to look at him. he’s entranced, especially when the corner of your lip turns up. “now what’s that look?”

he shakes his head with a growing grin, pulling you a little closer. “just thinking,” he answers.

your brows pinch in faux concern. “careful, seresin. you’ve been doing a lot of that tonight; don’t hurt yourself.”

with a roll of his eyes, he pinches your side. “watch it,” he warns, the smile evident in his voice, and you giggle.

“i think i smell smoke.”

jake heaves a long sigh, still swaying with you as you muffle your giggles in his suit jacket. “you think you’re cute, huh?”

you beam at him, tilting your head. “i think we both know that i’m adorable.”

“and you’re lucky you are, honey,” he murmurs, warm hand stroking up your spine. he’s looking at you unflinchingly, that twitch of his lips giving away his thoughts. It’s the first time all night that he isn’t shying away from openly adoring you.

you shiver under his gaze; he looks better than ever, under the soft lighting in his fancy suit. it’s the low rumble of his words, your chests pressed together, and the way he looks at you. you’ve always seen that little glimmer of adoration in him; you know him too well not to. part of you was waiting on him to make a move, but something about this moment—the warmth of his body and the way his eyes flicker to your lips, the unconscious way he pulls you closer.

jake feels faint at the sober way you look at him, like you’re looking right through him into his very soul. he almost shivers against you, but you don’t notice. you’re too busy leaning into him, resting your weight against his chest and nudging your nose against his. you’re sure his mother is staring, but you can’t find it in yourself to pull away; the thought of being watched doesn’t even cross jakes mind. he’s too wrapped up in you, eagerly awaiting your next move.

featherlight, your lips brush his. it’s hesitant, a little bashful, and he doesn’t want to startle you away but he can’t help himself. he makes the final leap and presses his lips to yours. a large, warm hand fills the dip of the small of your back, and you take in a deep breath as he kisses you earnestly. you stroke his cheek tenderly, allowing him more access. a little shiver trembles down your spine, goosebumps blooming across your arms; you hadn’t realized how desperate you had been to break the contract of your friendship until you had. years of waving off his mother and sister, years of waiting for him to make the first move, and you could have had him like this the entire time.

you pull away to suck in a soft breath, keeping him close when you press your forehead against his shoulder. his nose buries itself in your hair, breathing you in while you take a moment to consider him. over the speakers, the emcee—jake’s little brother showing off his seresin charm, naturally—begins to calling for the bouquet toss. “single ladies,” he croons, arching a suggestive brow. “what are y’all waiting for? get up here.” jake chuckles, rolling his eyes, and you can’t help your own laugh, muffled against your best friend’s chest.

“he’s such a showboat,” you scoff.

you lean back to look at him, and those green eyes look back at you so tenderly. his hand lifts, fingertips brushing your cheekbone, and in that soft tone that you love so much, he asks, “you gonna go up there?”

as if it were possible, you lean even closer and give him another soft kiss. “no. think i’m going to stay with you.”

he beams.

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin oneshot #hangman seresin #hangman x reader #hangman imagine #hangman oneshot

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ghouljams · 10 months

Note

I just ascended while reading that Ballet!König and now I must politely ask for more serotonin via your Demon!Reader au - ☀️

Oh Sunny, I have a feeling you are going to like this.

There's a rumor among spec operators that gets squashed by the higher ups any time it starts circulating again. They say the really good(or bad considering which side of the gun you're on) operators are shadowed by demons. That any man who spills that much blood, loses enough of himself, will invite the devil himself into his steps. Command is always quick to dismiss these rumors as metaphorical nonsense, and Ghost for one is happy for that.

He's never been one for superstition, and having recruits tittering about demons and ghosts other than him is more than a little annoying when he's trying to brief them. That's one of the many perks of being in the 141. No recruits. No rumors.

Ghost grabs an enemy combatant, shooting out their knee before twisting them over his shoulder to flip them onto their back. One last bullet, clean between the eyes, to put them out of their misery.

"Perimeter secure," He tells Soap over the comms. The static comes in waves, rushing back and forth in his ear like the ocean tide. He taps his ear piece. "Soap, how copy?"

The body jerks, blood bubbling and gurgling from every hole. It jerks again, like it can't find a proper position to die in. Ghost trains his gun on it again, waiting. Waiting for what? For it to spring back to life? Christ man, get a hold of yourself. It still, blood still pouring from it. More blood than Ghost thought a body could hold. It pools closer to his boots and he steps back from it with a grimace. The blood stops. The static stops.

"Soap, how copy?" He repeats quickly.

"Ghost? Steamin' hell mate, thought we'd lost you." Soap's voice rings clear over the comm line, Ghost frowns, "Been over an hour, what the fuck have you been doing?"

He feels heavy. Making his way to the extraction point, sitting in the chopper, briefing Price on what the hell happened. Heavy as he finally collapses onto his bed in the barracks. He doesn't even bother turning the lights on, barely remembers to tug his mask off before he hits the pillow. He rolls onto his back and stares into the darkness at the ceiling.

Two eyes stare back at him, glowing, watching, as a weight settles on his chest. They tip and blink curiously at him.

"You've been doing very well for yourself," A soft feminine voice tells him.

"Debatable." Ghost tells you, hearing a hum of agreement.

"True, I think you could be doing much better with me."

"I'm fuckin' dreamin'." He tries to move, tries to conjure any feeling but the interminable stillness that's blanketed him. The lights flick on, and it's not the eyes, it's the teeth, the pearl smile that seems to promise him everything, for a price.

The woman sitting on his chest is... well just that, a woman sitting on his chest. Gorgeous with the overhead light haloing you. If the horns weren't casting shadows over him he'd almost think you were an angel. If he is dreaming, it's a damn good one.

"The hell are you," He mumbles, watching you curl like a cat to look deeper into his eyes.

"Shouldn't you know? You're the one that summoned me."

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #x reader #I'm gonna write the spy au intro too because it's more Ghost having to deal with insane women #I really was gonna do a similar summary for this as with Konig's ballet au #but then I was like actually I know exactly how I want this to go #turns out if you kill enough people the universe will assign you a girlfriend #demon!Darling au #☀️ anon

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delcakoo · 2 years

Text

nice to meet you, boyfriend!◞♡ ⃗ y.jw

۵ SUMMARY ! when a strange man approaches you at the grocery store, you call for your "boyfriend", who has just cluelessly entered the store, unaware of his new relationship status with you, a complete stranger. hopefully he plays along…

۵ PAIRING ! jungwon × gn!reader

۵ GENRE ! fake dating on the spot, fluff with shy wonnie

۵ WC ! 1.2k

۵ WARNINGS ! weirdo trying to get your number — he touches your hand

a/n: woops i wrote this thing super quickly last night while listening to old love by yuji <3 i should be working on requests but it was jungwon hours okay!! (when is it not tbh)

farmers must be smiling brilliantly by a glance at the view outside. heavy droplets of rain shower onto the concrete, washing away the tiny pieces of rubble deserted one by one.

but those little rocks weren’t the only soon-to-be deserted things if your damn umbrella didn’t open up; you knew you shouldn’t have made such an impulsive purchase at the dollar store — but the colorful design of the flexible plastic was much too charming to resist!

nonetheless, after a couple more pathetic attempts of you looking like a lunatic and smacking your umbrella against the ground, you eventually huff in surrender as you continue down the sidewalk, allowing the raindrops to attack you mercilessly.

all you wanted was to pick up some easy, reheatable dinner from the convenience store, you didn’t think you’d be getting a free shower along the way.

luckily, it wasn’t much longer before you made it to the small market, sighing in relief as the warmth enclosed you from the miserable weather outside. you nod politely in greeting to the employee behind the counter, shuffling your way further into the store to find yourself some ramen.

now, the hardest decision of all, what flavor to get? perhaps today is a roast beef day, yeah that sounds pretty good! or wait, soy sauce never fails either, but you couldn’t go wrong with just salt right—

“excuse me?”

you’re snapped out of your inner debate by the sound of a male’s voice from right next to you. flinching in surprise, you turn around to find a much older looking, tall man staring down at you. “oh, yes?” you reply awkwardly, looking around to see if you’ve missed something. “my bad, am i in the way?”

the stranger smirks, gazing down at you strangely as if you were a piece of meat. “no, actually i was just wondering if i could get your number?” he asks (well, it didn’t exactly seem like asking in the way he already began pulling out his phone in the middle of his sentence, as if there was no possibility of you denying him).

“uh,” you gulp, looking around the store nervously. “i’m sorry, do i know you?

for some reason, his simper grows at that, suddenly grabbing your hand in his free one. “no, but you can always get to know me, babe.”

yeah, absolutely not. you resist the urge to gag, now feeling more enticed to simply find an escape rather than get your ramen.

fortunately, the doorbell rings abruptly, alerting a new customer's entry and giving you the distraction needed to rip your hand away from the man’s unwanted grip.

a cat-like boy with fluffy, tangled hair walks in, his hands cutely stuffed into the pockets of his grey hoodie. each ear held a shiny white airpod, and his sweats and sneakers told you that just like you, he was probably just here to quickly grab something and be on his merry way, which only made you feel more guilty for what you were about to do.

“oh! actually, there’s my boyfriend,” you shout slightly, praying to every god that the boy’s headphones weren’t soundproof, and that he’d play along.

even at the mention of your ‘boyfriend’, the older man doesn’t back up at all, clearly untrustworthy of your statement as he stays grossly glued to your front.

your new boyfriend definitely didn’t hear you; it was easy to tell in the way he continued to nod his head slightly to his music, walking down the aisle, until for a split second, he met your desperate eyes. at your intense staring, his eyebrows furrow, looking between you and the man before cautiously taking out his airpods. “uh, hello?”

even his voice was cute, damn it. focus. “babe!” you watch worriedly as his eyes widen in surprise at the petname. shit, please play along.

“i’ve been waiting for you, i was just deciding on what ramen flavor we should get.” you hold your breath, both you and the man staring at him intensely.

it was silent for a moment. pleasepleasepleaseplease—

the boy unravels his hands from his pockets, confidently walking over to you and wrapping an arm around your waist. “oh, is that so? and who’s this?” he says, unimpressed as he studies the man up and down.

the man quickly backs up, raising his hands in surrender. “oh, my bad man, i was just—”

your new companion coughs as an interruption, suddenly pushing you back to stand in between you and the man. “trying to flirt with my partner? that’s nice, but i think we’ll be on our way now,” he announces nonchalantly, leading you along next to him as you make your grand escape.

the millisecond you’ve made it to a new aisle of the store, the boy releases you from his protective grip, shyly backing up and bowing instantly. “i’m so sorry, i hope it was okay i touched you i just wasn’t really sure what to do but i—i knew you needed help and—“

you walk up to him as he continues his rant, taking his larger hand in yours in hopes of getting him to calm down a bit. though it seems to have the opposite effect by the way he instantly freezes up, and you barely hold in a laugh at his dumbstruck expression and apple red cheeks.

just moments ago, this boy was standing up to a man much older and bigger than him with a confident hold on your waist; now here he was, refusing to even meet your eyes as he fidgets with his hoodie strings.

“it’s okay, i really appreciate it. what was your name?” you inquire with a tilt of your head.

“jungwon! it’s jungwon.”

“y/n,” you introduce, offering a hand out to him. “say, jungwon,“ he smiles shyly at the way his name flows out of your lips, a harsh dimple poking through his cheek. “wanna come have some ramen with me? y’know, to show my appreciation.” you aren’t quite sure where your sudden confidence came from, perhaps it was due to how timid the boy in front of you was.

jungwon’s head snaps up at your offer, and you coo at his small expression that truly resembles a surprised cat. “oh, sure! i actually came here to buy some anyway.”

that’s how you found yourself hand in hand with a boy you’d only met a few minutes ago, grocery bag slung over your arm while you share his airpods, humming along to music while walking back to your apartment.

“under the moonlight we made our first kiss, ‘cause this is the moment you made me feel like it’s the old love…

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @strawberry-sunset-skies @scented-morker @flyingpotatoes

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scrambjambled · 9 months

Text

noirpunk headcanons :~)

they’re my sleep paralysis demons (IVE ADDED MORE)

Hobie’s hands are always cold, Peter’s hands are always warm, enough said.

Peter is just obsessed with Hobie’s hair and piercings, cause you don’t see a lot of that in his world, and then bam this man shows up

He’ll like politely ask to touch one of the piercings or his hair, and will be the happiest man alive when Hobie lets him

Hobie can most definitely be affectionate and flirt normally, he just won’t. He’ll say the most random shit that somehow makes an ounce of sense

OR something absolutely vile, sultry, and down bad to Peter just to play it off with an expression that just looks like ‘:)’

Peter is absolutely flabbergasted, but it never shows, he just stands there and feels his mind just turn to white noise and internal screaming

Hobie almost always wears platforms, but he will never wear anything else in front of Peter because of how unnaturally tall he is

Hobie’s also giant but like…

Peter is humongous

They’re both cat people, but Peter is the type to see a stray cat, glance around, then pick it up, put it in his trench coat pocket, and take it home

Hobie sneaks in at the most random times, and just flash bangs Peter in the middle of the night as he stands in the kitchen and rummages through the cabinets

Hobie cannot cook for shit

Meanwhile Peter is a 5 star chef, man wife material

Whenever Peter cooks for Hobie it goes something like this

“Love, I can’t eat this.”

“And why may that be?”

“It’s too pretty..”

“Hobie.”

“I wanna frame it.”

“Eat the damn sandwich.”

Hobie also says the most out of pocket, 2000s and/or British slang ever, just to mess with Peter because he knows damn well he would not understand it

Peter’s handwriting is flawless, elegant, very neat, and nice to look at. Hobie’s handwriting looks like chicken scratch, third grader writing.

Peter is one of the few who can actually read that writing, like someone can look over his shoulder and see nothing but scribbles while Peter is smiling and giggling because he knows what it says

Hobie has no shame, he is the definition of the type of partner who would say “excuse me, asked for no pickles.”

Peter, on the other hand, is an over thinker. He gets embarrassed easily, and hides his face when he is so, either with his hands, collar, hat, or literally anything he can

Peter is better at smooth talk in private, better when he’s alone with Hobie rather than in public

Hobie doesn’t mind where, he’s always been good at flirting, but like I said, he just does it differently

#noirpunk #punknoir #atsv #hobie brown #spiderman noir #i love them #they are silly #i am obsessed #spiderverse #into the spider verse #itsv #across the spiderverse

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acciocriativity · 8 months

Text

DIFFERENT AS BLACK AND WHITE - JYH (FROM THE 300 FOLLOWERS EVENT)

(Pictures are not mine, credits for the rightful owners)

Requested from anon

Thank you so much for the request 💕 This was so much fun to write, but damn it took me so long and I'm so sorry! I tried my best to make this bold cat black reader, but you guys let me know your thoughts!

Ateez Masterlist

You couldn’t blame the shock on anyone’s face whenever you and Yunho went out together in a friendly manner, even though it pains you to say it out loud. But it doesn’t mean it wasn’t annoying to notice it for the 150th time, someone whispering about the two of you behind your back in a restaurant nearby your office.

You took another deep breath as you played with the chains of your bag on your lap, a simple way to relieve stress that Yunho wouldn’t notice and wouldn’t ask about it.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”, you noticed his beautiful smile turn into a slight frown. “You’re pouting”.

There’s no way in hell that you are pouting, so you could only look at Yunho with the utmost outraged expression you could muster, but these days, it wasn’t much. That stupid motherfucker knows he makes you smile with a snap of his fingers.

“I’m not”.

“Oh really? So you are not looking like a pouty puppy right now for a reason you don’t want to tell me”.

“I’ll let slide the fact that you just called me puppy, what do you want to order?”, you held up the menu as you tried your hardest to keep yourself together.

He always knows somehow, but never pushes you more than you want to tell him. In his mind, someday you would open up to it, but that’s where he is wrong. You rather die than let your secret off your heart.

“You’re doing that again”, Yunho whined as he pushed the menu in your hands down.

You were surprised just as much as he was. That wasn’t thought through at all. Now, he was the one pouting, and you didn’t want anything else besides kissing it away, but you couldn’t, could you? You were paralyzed by the scene in front of you.

Yunho was mesmerizing without knowing. The way his blonde hair moved ever so slightly by the slow wind coming from the nearby windows, how his eyes would become little lines when he laughed and his ears would turn red as he lowered his head anytime you complement him.

He was so beautiful, and you were so frustrated that he would never think the same of you.

“Excuse me”, that same sweet voice that whispered how cute Yunho was behind you, sounded confident now. She stood beside your table, a nice smile on her face as she focused solely on him.

Fuck me, why does she have to be soo his type too?

Her good girl style matched perfectly with his husband material style. The epitome of the perfect girl for Yunho, which you always knew it wasn’t you. Sometimes you wondered if you just changed a little… then you remembered who you are and how you’d never do that, not even for him.

You wanted to throw yourself off the window as Yunho gave her a perfect polite smile, which was what a nice reasonable person would do, but you stopped caring about reasonable for a long time.

“I was just wondering… are you two on a date right now?”, she barely looked at you while saying that. “I don’t want to bother, if you are”.

“Yes, we are, so you can go back to whisper behind our back”.

It was a tough competition between who was more surprised, Yunho or the girl, yet you remained as calm and collected as you were, staring straight at her. Her smile fell so fast, her demeanor changing as quick as her confidence left her body.

It was a pleasing sight to watch, you couldn’t lie to yourself. Maybe if she wasn’t as dismissive of you, you could feel empathy and regret, but that was far from the case.

Yunho held in the waves of emotions going through him as the girl focused back on him, to confirm what you just said, in hopes maybe he would like her more somehow.

“I think your friends are calling for you”, Yunho said as he looked from the girl to the others behind your table.

She didn’t need another sign to excuse herself.

Yunho never stared at you with this much intensity, he wasn’t smiling. Your own confidence and poker face begin to slip up as you waited for him to say something, anything, even laugh at the scene that just unfolded.

Even if everything goes down hill with Yunho now, she also doesn’t get to be with him.

It’s a selfish thought, but it’s one that brings a tiny bit of comfort to your heart as you heard them all leave the restaurant.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

His question made you want to scream. There was so much you never said, so much you didn’t want to say still, what does he know now? That you’re jealous of him? That you like him? That maybe you’ve been into him for some time? Then he doesn’t know anything at all.

“Why didn’t you tell me that people whispering about us bothered you?”

He wasn’t asking the right question and he knew it. But now you know that he heard it too, that he notices every time it happened too, and still never said anything about it.

Your eyes fell to the menu in your hands. You could barely think, but he was waiting for a real answer.

“It doesn’t”, you heard the scoff leaving his mouth. “It didn’t-”, you correct yourself. “It didn’t, but these people need a lesson to mind their own business, don’t you think?”, you looked up at him again, the walls around you raising again.

“I do”, he leaned on the chair, a smirk growing on his face. “So, we’re dating now?”

“Fine, tease me about this as much as you want”, you smiled to yourself, not a happy one, no, but a content enough smile. “It must be fun for you to have that much attention”, you didn’t want to sound bitter, but you were.

“But I only want your attention”. He didn’t even hesitate to say that. His eyes looking for yours, but you still refused to look him in the eyes. “Hey-”, his hand grabbed yours and held it into his as you let go of the menu. “Don’t you believe me?”

He leaned in, his face tilted to the side as he watched your every move. You felt burning hot with all of his attention on you, specially like this, like your answer, like you, could make his night or ruin it.

“Of course I believe you, but that doesn’t make a difference at the end of the day be-”, you looked up at him.

“Because you act like you don’t like me even if you do”, he interrupted you.

You both went silent, trying to decipher each other’s reactions.

“You only figured that out now?”.

Once again, you caught him off guard. Yunho expected at least a shy smile from you, but he was the one blushing. The thought of you liking him for a long time made his heart flutter.

“Are you going to show me how much you like you me now?”, he wet his lips, catching your attention to it.

That shut you up, and he smiled wide, clearly satisfied with himself.

“Since when did you get that bold?”, you couldn’t resist the urge to smile yourself.

“Oh, you know perfectly who did this to me, don’t even pretend like it wasn’t you”.

You kept the act, even thought you knew it was true. You never let Yunho’s parents dream about it, but you were the bad influence between the two of you since you two met, all of those years ago.

Then, you gestured for him to come closer to you, and he did in such a naive innocence, that almost made you feel bad about the things you said next.

“What about we go to your house, so I show you all the things I still want to do to you, hm?”

You left the restaurant with a clearly embarrassed, distraught and hurried Yunho pulling you to his car. You both didn’t have much time of your lunch break, but that didn’t mean Yunho wouldn’t use every single second of it to his advantage.

#ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #ateez headcanons #ateez masterlist #yunho x reader #yunho imagines #yunho fluff #yunho fanfic #yunho headcanons

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shocymer · 2 months

Text

Goodbye Summer

"The friend label is a label I'm going to hate. Our story ended without even started."

Pairing : Mingi x afab!reader

Word counts : 4k

Contents : highschool au, angst, flashback, lived by the beach, TW! mention of divorce, slightly depressed reader, miscommunication issue.

A/N : The fic is inspired by "f(x) - Goodbye Summer". It's been my favorite song since it was released (bcs relatable af). Also this one took a set in early 2000 with Taiyou No Uta as my reference. Oh btw I don't use japanese semester system, I matched it with how it goes in my country. I hope everyone enjoy it! ♡

2nd Year. Autumn 2006

You walked through the class corridor while sorting some papers from the student council. You heard fast paced step behind you,

“Better watch out girly,” he took your papers and continue running again.

He laughs maniacally, at some point he stop in the middle of corridor waiting for you to catch him up. As he saw you getting closer, he lift your paper high up. He amused by your action, struggling to reach those papers.

“Mingi! Can you stop!” You keep trying to reach it.

“Nah, I don’t want to,” he lift it even higher.

“If you don’t stop any moment, I’m gonna-”

“Hmm? Gonna what?” He put his face in front of you, staring into your eyes. You saw the opportunity as he lower his grip.

“Gonna grab this damn papers, thanks by the way,” you managed to get it, swiftly walk away from him.

He followed you, asking if you’re getting busy again as student council. You responded him with annoyance till both of you immersed in conversation as you walked back to your classroom.

2nd Year. Winter 2006

You blew your hands to heat it up. Today is awfully the coldest day since winter started. Silly you, you forgotten your mittens leaving it out nicely on your study desk. You keep cursing to yourself as you only brought limited hot pack and is enough for your stomach only. Everything’s ruined because the exam period.

“You keep blowing it like a freshly baked bread.” Mingi suddenly walk beside you.

You only gave him side eye. Too lazy to respond him. Like who the hell blowing a fresh baked bread out of the oven, that isn’t funny at all. You muttering some words and keep rubbing your hands.

He notice it before he took one of your hand and guide it to his winter coat pocket. He hold your hand tightly. You took a glance at him, he keep a straight face remain unbothered. It’s not the usual himself. You knew him that he’s a playful silly guy who always teasing you whenever he likes.

“Stay still if you don’t mind, I don’t bring mine too,” his eyes darting towards his hands.

You shrugged a little bit, nodding your head. “Thanks Mingi. We almost at school too.”

He smiled and grip your hand tighter in his pocket.

2nd Year. Spring 2007

“.. I like you,” faintly you heard a love confession.

New semester is just started and the vibe suddenly change. ‘New semester new you’ , ‘love is in the air’, and you blame the pollen scattering everywhere as it worsen your allergy. Just like the situation right now, you can find love confession almost every spot in the school including the stairs.

You never get the hype of other students cheering on it like an interesting show. And now you’re trapped, have been hiding for solid 7 minutes on the 3rd floor stairs. Afraid of make them feel awkward if you suddenly pass by them. So you politely hiding in your place. You’ve been on your flip phone to kill some time, but you’re growing impatient wondering who take a love confession so long.

Curiosity kills the cat like people said, you took a little peek between the railings. You saw the girl, but you’ve got no idea who she is. Then you tilt your head to get a better view, you saw the tall familiar figure. You recognize those side profile, those tall nose, and those eyes, it’s Mingi. Your heart sting for a while then you sat on the stairs quietly trying to grasp the situation. At the end you only heard their laughter slowly fading away.

2nd Year. Summer 2007

“Got some plans for summer?” Mingi poked your arms.

You lift your head trying to look at him. Headache taking over you as today is the last day of exam. 2 weeks of distress you only facing your books non-stop. And finally your hard work has paid of when the summer break getting closer.

“Dunno, gotta wait the result come out first.”

“Wanna go to the beach?” He asked you again.

You let out a heavy sigh, “I’m worried if I’ll take summer class.”

“We’re going afternoon, incase if one of us get that supplementary class,” he assured you.

You nod at him. He pat your shoulder before leaving you to talk to another classmate. Everything felt awkward after you saw him that day on the spring. First of all you’re not that close to him. Both of you only a casual classmate. But since that day, you tried your best to avoid him hoping it’ll hide the strange feeling in your heart. Deep down inside, you intended to move on from him hoping you can be your usual self. And this summer break is surely a perfect timing.

⁠✧

The summer breeze blew your hair gently, leading you to grip your hat tightly. Mingi told you to meet him before the railway that separate almost half of the town. You waited him, sitting on your bike. Your eyes look towards the sea from this distance. The beach is not difficult to reach, it only took 10 minutes from where you live. But going with him is a rare thing.

There’s still no sign of him. You pull out your flip phone, trying to check the time. Undecided whether sent him a message or not, you keep opening and closing his contact. During the summer break you didn't contact him at all. Still unsure about your feelings, you’re afraid of falling too deep. So you just wait for his message if he remembers those plan he made before. You reread his last message,

(Minkimingi) Meet me by the railway tomorrow afternoon, cya!

You let out a heavy sigh and finally send him one,

(You) Where are you? I might get carried by the wind cuz waiting you for too long.

The vibration startled you, didn’t expect him to replied you so soon.

(Mingkymingi) I don’t live by the shore my dear princess, please be patient.

Gasped by the nickname he gave, you slump your head to the bike handlebar. ‘Goddamit Song Mingi, I shouldn't have come, right?’ Still battling with your inner thought, suddenly you feel a cold sensation at the back of your neck. You turned quickly only to find him chuckling while holding a can of cold drink.

“As a good friend, I know you must be craving this,” he handed you the drink.

Yeah friend. You forced a smile before reaching those drink. Open it up instantly then chugging it. You’re observing him without you realize. He’s still in his summer uniform. As you guess he took the supplementary class. Beads of sweats rolled down his forehead, of course that’s the result of him riding his bike in a hurry. Till his eyes met yours, returning your gaze.

“I never expect you’ll suit in those white.. flowy.. dress..”

“Friends do not do that,” you put emphasis on your words by reflex.

“That?”

Without thinking you answered him quickly,

“complimenting each other.”

He ruffled his hair as frustration drawn on his face.

“Well.. let’s say it’s not a compliment, but what’s wrong with friends complimenting each other?”

Fed up by every time he mention that label, you pedal your bike away towards the beach leaving him alone. You heard him yelling from distance,

“we’re still waiting others! Where are you going?!”

“I’m tired of waiting, meet me at the beach!” You yelled back at him.

⁠✧

The sky began to show its golden tinge. The seagulls flew to and fro over the sea. The waves rolled rhythmically and some of your classmate surf on them. Everyone is enjoying this moment, some of them playing volleyball, some of them splashing the waters towards each other, then here you are sat on the beach while thinking about your original intention of coming here.

You guessed nothing changes. The fact you’re still bitter by him is irritated you even more. You’re eyes are always on his presence, knew damn well that he’s still looking good without even trying. Just like right now, he wear a loose black t-shirt damped by water mixed his sweat, school uniform pants still hanging on him, and those brushed back damped hair while riding his surfboard.

“Say cheese!” One of your classmates push the camera shutter. Capturing the summer break moments before the new school year starts. You couldn’t help but pose for a few photos, until you didn’t realize Mingi pulled your hand. He mouthed you to follow him.

Obediently follow him, you started pedaling your bike behind his. He took you to a higher place than the shore. Stopping his bike, he look back waiting for you. Not too long, you stopped right beside him.

“We can get a better view here,” he smiled at you while his hand is pointing the sky.

You raised one of your eyebrow in confusion. He chuckled by your expression. Then he continued his words,

“I don’t know what you’ve going through. Somehow lately you seems.. different. I hope this will makes you better.”

Suddenly some loud bursts heard along the night sky decorated by the flickering light of fireworks. Leading you spontaneously looking up at it. It’s beautiful just like him. Like the light in the midst of a dark frantic mind. Even the fireworks weren’t enough to keep you entertained, you end up staring at him. Capturing the way how the smile carved onto his face.

“I like you Mingi,” you said it in a whisper.

You know it won’t be heard. You know that he belongs to someone else. And you know he appreciate you as a friend. At least this will ease your feelings even just a little.

⁠✧

The nights were getting colder. Both of you walked side by side while leading the bikes towards home. You talked to each other properly after a couple of months dealing with your antics, avoiding mingi by making some excuses whenever he came close to you.

You stop at the railway, he continue to lead his bike till the other side of railway. He gave you a small waved. You return it while looking at his back getting further away.

“Mingii! I hope we’re in the same class next year!” You yelled at him.

He looked back, raised his hand to give an ok sign from a distance.

3rd Year. Spring 2008

You rushed out from your class only 2 minutes before the class started, not in the mood to be a good and obedient student today. You’re gonna exploded in any minutes, home is in a mess and so does your head. Still hesitated skipping class at the library or leaving the school, you stopped your step right in front of the school gym door. Peeking through the window, you saw someone is dribbling the basketball.

You open the door slowly, decided to skip your class here. Startled by the sound he look into your direction. You thought there’s another students but none of them. It’s only him.

“Oh.. Mingi?” Yes that’s him, who you never talk to since those summer. Both of you only passed each other for a few times. Just saying hello and nothings more. Human can only wish, but fate said the otherwise. It all happened because you’re completely in different class.

“Hey, what’s up,” he greeted you back before tossing the ball towards you.

You catch it, slowly dribbling it towards his direction. He played along with you, a wide smile adorning his face. Trying to grab the ball before he asked you,

“How’s life?”

You almost tripped taken aback by his question.

“Um.. yeah.. great I guess,”

Finally you passed him through then you managed to shoot the ball. Mocking him, you jump out of the joy. He put a ‘Just watch, I can do better’ expression towards you. The squeak of shoes and laughter filled the gym. Both of you were playing in the joy, even you forget all of your tangled mind.

The least thing you ever wanted coming all of a sudden. You saw your teacher’s silhouette through the window. You quickly grabbed mingi’s hand and guide him to hide under the window hoping your teacher won’t notice. Both of you stayed still for a couple of minutes.

He checked if it safe already, then decided to leave the gym quietly while holding your hand. You both tried to stifle the laughter and keep walking only to find your teacher waiting for you at the corner. It ended by the punishment after such a long tired lecture. Mingi and you were on the knees side by side while raising both of your hand right in front of the gym.

“Sorry, we're busted,” he whispered to you.

“It’s not even your fault, please don’t blame yourself,” you mouthed back to him.

After quite some times, he looked at you with a mischievous smile. You're pretty sure he got some wicked plan. He gave the signal by counting down in whisper. You take steps, risking for everything he’ll do. On the last count you both ran away from your teacher hand in hand, giggling all the way.

3rd Year. Summer 2008

Everyone gathered, some of them were hugging each other with laughter, and some of them were crying in joy. Today is the graduation day. Right after the graduation ceremony you strolling around the school, trying to recall everything that was happen for 3 years you studied here.

Library was your best friend in your senior year. You swept the bookshelf with your palm as you walk pass through it. Opened one by one of your favorite books, before putting it back to the shelf. You leaned to the wall, closing your eyes. Last year of school is the roughest. Your parents divorced, you lose the desire to make some friends, leading you alone in the most of your times, and you lost him in some type of ways.

You saw him from the window. He’s friendly as he ever be. Talking and laughing with his friends. He never changed and so does your feelings. He always be the one you’ve crushed the most. But you know your place and never engaged those feelings. You wondered if you can talk to him for the last time.

Your 2nd year classmates waving at you. Shouting from the schoolyard under where the other students gathered including him,

“Heyyy!! Come here!” They keep calling your name with the smile on their face.

“Yeahh wait for me!” You shouting back at them as you hurriedly left the library going down through the stairs.

When you reach the schoolyard, you throw yourself at them. Hugging them in joy. Tears almost rolling down your eyes, you didn’t talk too much with them either for the last year. Even though you passed each other at school, you’ve been busy by your own problems that ended up distancing yourself from others.

Your classmates keep taking pictures, asking you to join them. They’re busy pulling in everyone whoever been the same class with them to take pictures together. As all of your classmates are almost gathered, you positioned yourself to take a group picture. Your shoulder bumped with someone accidentally.

“Oh sorry, I don’t mean to-”

“No problem,” his eyes widen before he smiled at you.

It’s Mingi. He’s standing next to you, joining as you do. You took a glance at him, he lose the second button of his uniform already. You shake your head, then you look into your friend’s camera, ready to take the group picture.

Before you left the group’s photo session, he pulled your hand as if he wanted to say something. The expression on his face was hard to read until he finally sighed and smiled at you.

“What?” waiting on his response.

“Nah, nothing. See you later princess.”

He pat your shoulder for the last time before he left you standing alone. Your tears fell without you realizing it. There’s no “later” for you. You won’t be here and you don’t know when you’ll be back. At the end you only murmuring to yourself.

“That should be my line silly.”

Summer 2023

“Babe I remind you once more, don’t forget about today reunion okie.”

You chuckled, betting that she’s already telling you for a hundred times this week.

“I promise you I’ll come. Don’t you hear me right now? You can guessed where I am.”

The sound of crashing waves and birds chirping is in the background. You walk along the beach while on the phone with your friend. You just return to this town full of memories early in the morning.

“Wha- what! why don’t you tell me when you arrived?”

“It’s not a surprised if I tell you sooner.”

Both of you talked animatedly for a while until you ended the call, assured her for the last time that you’ll come to the class reunion.

15 years since you left this town to a completely opposite province. Moved to your mother's hometown, helping her business after your graduation the aftermath of your parents divorced. You lose contact with everyone and ended up missed two reunions. But somehow last week an unknown number called you. That was your 2nd year classmate back in the high school, excitedly inform you that there will be a reunion soon.

⁠✧

The restaurant atmosphere is filled with laughter by your friends, reminiscing their memories when they were still in high school. They chatted with each other lively. Some of them enjoying the dish while chugging the beverages, and some of them are curious about you due to your disappearance without a trace for years.

An hour passed by the event started. A figure you didn't expect and missed appears. He slide open the restaurant door. The same wide smile adorned his face as he greeted the others. Unless he looks much more mature. Short black hair neatly styled with a few strands fell over his forehead, glasses hanging on the nose bridge, a silver necklace with a cross pendant dangle on his neck, button up white shirt that it’s sleeve rolled up almost touching his elbow finished with a black vest and pants perfectly fit on his body.

The smile slowly faded when his eyes fall into yours. A look of disbelief crossed on his face when he saw you here. He brushed away those expression immediately then took a seat in front of you. You two exchanged glances for a moment. You wanted to talk to him, but your voice hitched. Heavy feeling fills your heart, opening up the old memories that you thought were all over.

He tapped his fingers on the table looking a little nervous. Occasionally sipping his glass of beer to divert it. Without realizing it, your eyes fell on his ring finger. A white gold ring circled his finger sweetly. Somehow makes you feel a little relieved to open up a conversation.

“It’s been a long time Mingi.”

“Yeah, good to see you,” he took a deep breath before continuing his words.

“You’re… gone. Just disappeared without a single notice.”

“I went back to my hometown.”

“Why don’t you tell me before?” He showed you the same expression as the last time you saw him.

“It’s just so sudden, I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you”

He sighed for a second time,

“As long as you’re fine. That’s all.”

“I’m doing great. Thanks for your concern.”

You pat the back of his hand, assured him that you’re completely fine. He only replied you with a bitter smile.

“Listen.. listen! Guess what? I managed to print the damaged photo,” one of your friend raised a big photo album proudly.

“Why it seems like in every reunion you always got new photos for the same reason.” Chirped by the other friends.

“Shut up! You don't even know how difficult it is to repair an old damaged roll film,” she rolled her eyes.

She put the album to one of the tables before instruct them to take turns if they want to look at it.

“And.. this one for you.” She handed you a big brown postal envelope,

“everyone already got all of this photos. I don’t know why some of it are missing so others who likes taking pictures complete it, including him.” She pointed Mingi with her head.

“Ah.. thank you.” You received the envelope and looked at it carefully.

Meanwhile Mingi immersed on seeing the album. He turn the page one by one slowly. Sometimes he chuckles when seeing some funny moments. Until he noticed the page with unfamiliar photos.

Oh maybe this is the newly printed, he thought to himself. He always pays attention to you in every photos that was taken. Only to realized your eyes were always on him in almost every photos. He turned the page quickly to confirm that.

Before you open the brown envelope, Mingi tap your hand lightly.

“Can we talk outside? If you don’t mind.”

You nodding at him, proceed to follow him outside.

He took his glasses off, pressing the bridge of his nose with the thumb and index finger. Then he looked at you in miserable stare. You notice something doesn’t feel right.

“What’s wrong Mingi?”

He averted his eyes before pull out a wedding invitation to you. Stammering on his words,

“I’ll.. get married next month.”

It doesn't hurt that much when you receive it. You definitely expect it. However life still goes on doesn't it?

“Oh! Congratulation on your wedding. I hope you’ll enjoy your new life.” You tried to smile at him.

Clenched his jaw, he’s trying to suppress the frustration. He's been looking for you for almost 11 years. Until finally gave up in the last few years, and only to find you appeared at the class reunion unexpectedly.

“Is it easy to say that?”

You don’t quite understand what he really means,

“..isn't it easy as long as she's the love of your life?”

Lowered his head, reality just hits him back.

“Yeah.. Right..”

He pulled you into his arm tightly. You’re frozen by his sudden action, still trying to digest what was just happen. When you intended to let go, he told you his final request.

“Please let me hug you for the last time.. as a friend.”

⁠✧

Your eyes wandered out, sitting by the train window. It’s quite a long day, you take the last train after returning from the reunion. Can’t deny it, you feel ecstatic after meeting them.

Shifted your bag to grab the phone, your hand touched the brown envelope that was given to you earlier. You decided to pull it out from your bag, loosen up the strap to see it’s content.

You look at the photo by photo carefully. School festival, school trips, graduation day, and mostly summer breaks, everything’s stored well. Except one photo tucked in between has a contrast vibe.

The paper is duller and it was taken at night unlike the rest. You recognize it, that was your side portrait with fireworks in the night sky. You turn the photo over, there is the date and a small note written on it.

August xx, 2007

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it my princess?”

Covered your mouth in disbelief. Tight feeling rises in your chest made you lose focus till some photos fell over the train floor. You pick them out one by one while looking at it.

Your eyes automatically on him by the photos. He always looks at you from a distance just like you did. The tears flowed unstoppably. All this time he also felt the same way. You hate him who always hide behind the word “Friend” as if he’s pushing you away. You closed your eyes, it's all too late now.

“I liked you too Mingi.”

Only the sound of train tracks was heard afterwards.

⁠✧

The friend label is a label I’m going to hate.

The feelings I’ve hidden still remain as a painful secret memory.

The photos that can’t define our relationship is a heartbreaking story.

Our story ended without even started.

- Goodbye Summer

a/n :

They used analog camera that contains film roll in it.

"He lose the second button of his uniform." That means he already gave it to someone who's supposed to be important (romantically) because it's located near the heart. People believed it's same as giving your heart to someone. Based on japanese students when it's graduation season.

Cutie patootie looks like this in the reunion, minus the tie.

"The moon is beautiful" is a popular japanese phrases 「月が綺麗ですね」 (Tsuki ga kirei desune). It means "I like you."

#song mingi #mingi x reader #ateez mingi #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez #mingi angst #ateez ff #kpop fanfic #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #mingi #shocymer

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wheresarizona · 11 months

Text

Float Like a Feather

pairing: Joel Miller/inexperienced f!reader

summary: You like to go to the bar at night, have a shot, and dance to the jukebox until it tires you out. Joel likes to go to the bar, have a couple of drinks, and watch you dance, entranced by how carefree and happy you look. Ellie thinks it's disgusting how you stare at each other with moon eyes and decides it’s time Joel finally talks to you.

rating: E (18+!! This is basically smut with some plot. No y/n, age gap (20-25 years), Soft Joel Miller, reader isn’t a virgin but is very inexperienced, Joel is extremely sweet in showing how good sex can be, alternating pov, unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie, oral sex (f receiving/first time), vaginal fingering, (1) pussy slap, spit mention, dirty talk, praise kink, a hint of Protective Joel, a couple of ma’am’s, Good Parent Joel, Ellie giving Joel so much shit, Ellie being the best wingman, Joel supporting his lesbian daughter, a touch of pregnancy, Joel holding a baby, TLOU AU where Joel doesn’t lie to Ellie and they’re good when they get back to Jackson)

word count: 7.1k+

a/n: My dearest friend @dresupi sent me the song Stella by Cereus Bright as a prompt for Joel Miller, and this is what happened. I’m going to be honest and tell you this is completely self-indulgent. Thank you to the love of my life, @juletheghoul for betaing!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Masterlist

Jackson is just so… normal.

Or at least as normal as a town can be in an apocalypse.

Returning with Ellie, they were given duties like every other person who lived there to keep the place continuing to be normal.

They’ve been there a little over a month, and Joel already has a routine: up at seven am, making sure Ellie gets up, too (ignores her grumbling), goes with her to the canteen to have breakfast (ignores her glares). They split up to go do their jobs for the day, him returning to the house around five, showering the day away, then goes to have dinner with Ellie at six (happily listens about her day and the girl she’s taken a liking to named Cat). She goes to hang out with her new friends, and he likes to go sit in the bar to have a couple of drinks over a few hours and people-watch.

It’s more person-watch, or at least each time he’s gone, there’s only one person who catches his eye.

Every night at around eight, you make your way into the bar, taking a shot of something clear at the bartop, then going to the jukebox, putting on a song, and dancing.

It’s not one song, or two, you keep them going and dancing until there’s a sheen of sweat on your skin, and you finally have to get some water.

It entrances him with how carefree you are, how happy you are, your eyes closed, smiling as you just lose yourself to the music, moving to the beat.

Sometimes people join you, sometimes men try to convince you to get a drink with them that you always politely decline, and Joel would feel like a creep, but sometimes your eyes open and lock with his, and you wink at him, which always makes him so damn flustered. He knows you’re aware of him because when you enter the bar, your attention goes to his corner table, smiling at him before you go take your shot.

There’s no way in hell you’re interested in him, though—he’s way too old for someone so young and lively. You probably just enjoy having an audience watching as you float across the dance floor, having the time of your life.

It doesn’t matter anyway because he’s convinced himself he’s fine on his own and doesn’t need anyone. He isn’t even sure if he can allow himself to care for another person, not after all the ones he’s lost—so all of his focus has been on his kid and keeping her safe.

He’s sitting at his usual table with his whiskey in front of him, watching as you dance to an upbeat 80s song in your black leggings and purple tank top, when suddenly someone is plopping down in the seat next to him, taking him from his reverie, quickly turning his head to realize it’s just Ellie.

“Is that her?” she asks, pointing at you moving in the empty space in front of the jukebox used as a makeshift dance floor.

He feels a flush creeping up his neck, “Don’t point,” he says, lowering her hand. “It’s rude.”

“Fine, Joel, I won’t point.” She rolls her eyes. “But is that her?” she nods her head toward you.

“Is that who?”

“The woman Tommy says you stare at with moon eyes but are too chicken shit to ask out.”

His face pinches in anger, turning his attention to the teen. “I do not stare at her with fuckin’ moon eyes,” he grumbles.

“Yeah, you do. It’s disgusting—just ask her out already.”

“I’m too old for her,” he replies, taking a drink.

“You are fucking old, but with how she looks at you, I don’t think she gives a fuck.”

He lowers his glass. “How does she look at me?” he asks quietly, and Ellie grins.

“Your sight must be going, old man,” she ribs. “She looks at you with the same goddamn moon eyes, and it’s obvious she likes you, too.”

“That’s a fuckin’ lie—ain’t nothin’ obvious.”

“Well, you’re the only person she looks at, so…”

He perks up.

“Am I?”

That can’t be…

“Yep, and you should just finally make a fucking move.”

He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Why are you givin’ me shit when you’re too chicken shit yourself?”

Her eyes round.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

He lowers his voice to make sure nobody else would hear.

“You like Cat, and from the times you’ve brought her around, she likes you, too.” He shrugs. “I’m not the only one with fuckin’ moon eyes.”

“Ah ha!” She points at him. “You do have a crush!”

“Keep it down,” he hisses, frantically looking your way and seeing you’re still dancing without a care.

“Jesus, Joel—chill out. I wanna make you a deal.”

“What’s that?” he asks, meeting her eyes with a raised eyebrow.

“I’ll ask out Cat if you ask out Dancing Queen over there.” She juts her thumb toward the dance floor.

He lets out a long low sigh scrubbing his hand over his face because Ellie was his kid, and he wants her to be happy, and she’s happy with Cat. If this will get her to do something about her own crush, he obviously has to do it, but it will be so fucking embarrassing when he gets shot down.

“Fine.”

“Fuck yeah! She’s heading to the bar. Now’s your chance.”

His eyes go wide. “Now? You want me to do it now?” He figured he’d have time to work up the courage—he’s rusty.

“Yeah. Go.” She pushes on his shoulder, and Joel reluctantly gets up with a groan, scratching at the back of his neck as he walks toward you. Looking back at Ellie, she’s grinning and giving him two thumbs up, which spurs him on to do what she asked.

You’re chugging a glass of water, your skin glistening in the lights of the bar from sweat, and Joel thinks you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

He approaches, taking a deep breath. He finally clears his throat. “Um, excuse me, ma’am?”

Setting the cup down, you turn to face him with the most beautiful smile curling up on your lips.

“Cute corner guy!” you say, and his cheeks heat.

“The name’s Joel,” he replies, sticking out his hand.

“Hi, Joel—” You introduce yourself, shaking his offered palm, and he notices how much smaller yours is. “—I’ve been waiting for you to come talk to me.”

His eyebrows are in his hairline. “You… have?”

“Oh, yeah, you’re very handsome, and don’t stare at me like you’re picturing me naked. It’s honestly refreshing. Wanna have a drink with me?”

He smiles. “I’d like that very much.”

Ellie has disappeared, and the two of you take up residence at his usual table. He finds you’re lovely to talk to—learning you’d been in Jackson almost six months, you lived in the Denver QZ before that, your age which had him wondering why in the hell you were even giving him the time of day, and you hadn’t crossed paths outside the bar in the rotation of jobs because you were a teacher down at the school full time.

“—so the dancin’ helps wear you out so you can sleep?” he asks.

“Yes.” You nod. “Insomnia is an absolute bitch, but if I can get myself tired enough, I’ll finally sleep—so dancing, which is much more fun than going for a jog or running.”

“Fuckin’ hate runnin’,” he replies, taking a drink.

You giggle. “I do, too,” you say, taking your own sip. “Was that your daughter earlier?” you ask.

“Oh.” He scratches his mustache. “Kinda? I’ve basically adopted her as my own, and she lives with me, but she doesn’t call me dad or anythin’ like that.” He shrugs.

“Okay, so you’ve got a kid, are from the Boston QZ, have been in Jackson for a month, are Tommy Miller’s brother, prefer whiskey, have the most gorgeous brown eyes, and enjoy watching random women dance in bars.”

He huffs out a breath, knowing his cheeks are tinted pink, darting his eyes away.

“I, uh, apologize if I’ve made you feel uncomfortable…”

You touch his bare forearm on the table, his flannel shirt’s sleeves rolled up, and his skin tingles under your palm.

“I promise you don’t make me uncomfortable at all. To tell you the truth, I quite enjoy you watching me and kinda hoped you’d talk to me sooner… or join me.”

He meets your gaze, swallowing hard, surprised at the hope swelling in his chest.

“I, uh, apologize again, but this time for bein’ so forward because I haven’t talked to a beautiful woman in quite some time, and I just want to make sure I’m not misreadin’ things…?”

You smile warmly at him.

“Joel, I am very interested in you romantically, and one drink away from being brave enough to see if you want to come back to my place.”

You do like him, and he’s honest to god shocked. He’d convinced himself he was better off alone, but maybe having someone wouldn’t be too bad. Jackson is safe, there isn’t much risk aside from patrols, and Ellie seemed to think he needs somebody—and you’re so beautiful and sweet; he was already gone on you before he’d spoken to you, and now that he knows he’s got a chance, he’s not going to waste it.

He gulps, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip as arousal crashes into him like a freight train.

His voice goes deeper. “I can promise you, I’d say yes.” He has to ask, though. “You really want an old guy like me?”

Smirking, you answer, “Oh, yeah, I really like you, and I just know you’ll be good in bed.” You wink, rubbing your hand up his arm.

He sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “It’s been a long fuckin’ time, and I’m out of practice, so it might not be as good as you’re hopin’...”

“Good thing we’ve got all night for you to practice over and over and over again,” you purr.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes, his jeans feeling much tighter. “You, uh—”

“Want to get the fuck out of here?” you interrupt, smiling at him. “I’d like that very much.”

Joel Miller is a goddamn sweetheart and a really good kisser.

The moment your front door is closed, he has you against it, kissing you hard—one of his hands cradling your face, the other moving up your stomach to grab your breast, moaning when his tongue slips between your lips to tangle with your own.

Arousal is burning brightly in your belly, your cunt throbbing with need, wanting this man desperately.

You, of course, had taken notice of Cute Corner Guy Joel Miller the first night he’d gone to the bar for a drink. Those beautiful brown eyes never looked at you salaciously. If anything, it was more in wonder and so unbelievably adorable you’d been dying to talk to him but wanted to ensure he made the first move to know he liked you and not just the show you put on. It didn’t matter to you that there were quite a few years between your ages; he’s incredibly attractive, and you wanted to know more about him. Plus, as a bonus, you’ve heard older men who grew up before the world went to shit were very generous in bed, which would be nice since your little bit of experience with guys your own age hasn’t been all that great.

Your fingers are working open the buttons on his shirt, his tongue sliding along yours in a way that makes your toes curl, him interrupting by grabbing the hem of your tank top, tugging it and your sports bra over your head in one go, tossing them away without a care. Returning to what you were doing, Joel's big hands are on your tits, trailing kisses down your neck until he’s bending to suck one of your pebbled nipples between his lips.

“Oh, god,” you gasp at the sensations shooting straight to your pussy.

He comes off you with a wet pop, smirking. “It’s Joel, but close.”

“A dumb joke—fuck, that’s hot.” His shirt was undone, impatiently pushing it off his arms and taking in his broad chest and the little bit of softness on his belly, noticing scars, some old, some new, littering his golden skin. “Fuck, you’re hot.”

He’s palming your breasts, his big, expressive eyes looking at you, and you can see the honesty in his gaze when he replies, “You’re fuckin’ beautiful.”

“God, you’re so fucking endearing—I need your dick inside me,” you say, rubbing your hand over the impressive bulge in his jeans.

He chuckles. “Bedroom?”

“End of the hall.” You point.

He’s on you again, his lips crushing against yours, his hands on your waist to help guide you as he moves you away from the door, walking you backward down your hall, kicking off your shoes as you go.

You’re glad your tiny two-bedroom house was clean, squeaking in surprise when you basically get thrown into the middle of your queen-size bed, a lamp on your bedside table illuminating the room in a soft glow.

Sitting up on your elbows, you watch as he toes off his shoes, his belt clanking as he works it open, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. He pushes them down and off with a groan, delightfully discovering that Joel goes commando and revealing the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen—long and slightly curved up with a nice girth to it, the tip reddened and shining with precum, your eyes going wide at how big he is.

For the first time, you think you might want to try blowing a guy, never having an opportunity before with people’s personal hygiene iffy outside of the town walls.

His attention is back on you, leaning over the mattress to grab the waistbands of your leggings and underwear, pulling them both off before he crawls up onto the bed between your spread legs.

“Can I suck your dick?” you ask.

His gaze is burning when it meets yours, shaking his head. “Sorry, baby. You can later, but right now, I gotta taste your pretty little pussy.”

Your eyebrows lift. “You’re gonna eat me out?”

No one has ever gone down on you. It’s always been quick fucks to scratch an itch—dear god, Joel’s going to ruin you for anyone else, you just know it, and it excites you immensely.

“May I?” he asks in return.

“Yeah, but you should know it’ll be the first time…”

His face goes pale, his eyes widening. “Havin’ sex…?” he croaks.

“What? No, I’ve had sex—” He visibly relaxes. “—a handful of times. There’s just never been much… foreplay? Kinda thought it was a myth.” You shrug your shoulders.

He’s frowning. “It ain’t no myth and a fuckin’ shame no one’s tasted you,” he says, moving onto his stomach, his big hands pushing your thighs apart with his head at the apex of your thighs, staring at your pussy with a look of hunger. He spread open the lips of your sex with his fingers. “I could spend hours with my face buried in this gorgeous cunt,” he rasps, his words making your core clench hard around nothing.

“Fuck,” you whisper. Anticipation is swelling up inside you, suddenly blurting, “Can I keep you?”

You feel the blood rush to your face. ‘Can I keep you?’ Where the fuck did that come from, and how are you hoping he’ll respond, that he wants to date you? Actually, yes, that is your hope.

He meets your gaze with a confused look. “What?” he asks.

Taking a deep breath, you say, “I really like you and don’t want this to be a one-time thing… Can I keep you?” You chew on your bottom lip.

His face softens, eyes on yours as he kisses your inner thigh. “Yeah,” he replies. “You can keep me if I can keep you—I’m a one-woman kinda guy, anyway.”

“I can be your one woman?”

He smiles. “I’d like that very much, Tiny Dancer. Your, uh, handful of times, did any of them make you come…?”

The question has your face heating, answering, “...no. I usually took care of myself…”

He looks honest to god offended. “Fucking selfish men,” he seethes. “That won’t do. Here’s how this is gonna go. I’m gonna lick your pussy and use my fingers to make you come at least twice—It’s been a while, but I sure as fuck remember how to pleasure a woman. Then I’ll give you my dick, and I’ll be honest, I don’t know how long I’ll last bein’ inside your tight little cunt, but I’m aimin’ to make you come one more time, and that’ll be round one.”

The way he sounds so sure has you throbbing.

“Just marry me already, Joel.”

Your comment makes him laugh. “Let me take you out a few more times, and then we can discuss marriage,” he replies with a wink.

“Fucking deal.”

There’s an earnest expression on his face. “If I’m doin’ somethin’ you don’t like, tell me, no hard feelin’s—same goes for if there’s somethin’ you’re really likin’. I just wanna make you feel good, Tiny Dancer. You understand?”

You nodded your head.

“Use your words, baby.”

“Yes, Joel. I understand.”

He smiles. “Good girl.” His response has you gasping as tingles move down your spine. There’s a knowing smirk on his face. “You like that,” he states. “You like being my good girl—I know you’re gonna be real good for me, aren’t ya?”

Your lip is pulled between your teeth, so unbelievably turned on, nodding your head at his question.

His fingers slap against your clit, not hard, but enough it has sparks of pleasure igniting in your center, your head falling back as you moan.

“Words, baby,” he says.

“Yes, Joel,” you gasp.

“That’s my good girl. Feel free to pull my hair—I like it.” He ends the sentence with a wink, then his attention is back on your wet heat, watching him lick his lips, knowing he can see you glistening in arousal.

His fingers spread you open again.

“Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he murmurs. “Bet you taste amazin’.”

He spits on your clit, your eyes going round, feeling the hot saliva as it slowly drips down to your sopping hole, moaning loudly when Joel’s head dips down, swiping his tongue through your folds from your entrance and back up.

It’s a new sensation and heavenly.

He’s groaning like he’s enjoying the most amazing meal, licking every bit of your sensitive flesh he can get. The beginnings of your orgasm are taking shape, feeling the heat starting to build low in your belly, and when his lips latch around your bundle of nerves, and he sucks, that’s when your hands end up in his grey hair, needing something to hold onto.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan. “It’s so good. Joel, it’s so good. Don’t stop.”

It’s almost overwhelming, your body starting to writhe, his arm like iron over your lower stomach to keep you still, his facial hair scratching deliciously on your intimate skin while he licks and sucks at you with abandon. You see him between your legs, your fingers tangled in his grey waves, his eyes closed as he feasts on you like a man starved—they open to meet your gaze, his glazed over and so dark you’re not sure any of the beautiful brown remains.

“You’re gonna make me come.” The muscles in your belly start to tighten, his tongue licking your entrance while his head shakes, nuzzling your clit with his perfect nose, and the sensations send you over the edge, your body tensing up as you come with a shout of his name, euphoria exploding in your veins.

You're panting as you fall back flat onto the bed, hearing Joel’s muffled voice saying into your cunt, good girl, him groaning as he shoves his tongue inside you to lick up your release.

You’re in love with him.

Or maybe that’s just the happy chemicals coursing through your body.

God, he’s perfect—how could you not fall in love with him?

His head pops up. “How was it?” his rough voice asks.

“I’m in love with you,” you answer dreamily.

His chuckle is warm. “That good?”

“Oh, yeah. Fucking incredible.” You sit back up on your elbows to look down at him, your slick coating his facial hair around his mouth and the bottom half of his face. “This is what I’ve been missing? I am mad but also so fucking happy you finally talked to me.”

“You, uh, really were waitin’ for me to talk to you?”

“Yes.” You nodded. “I love your beautiful, expressive eyes, and you’ve always looked at me differently than other men, almost like you were seeing me and not just my body, you know? And I just really wanted to get to know you. I figured all of the winks and smiles would clue you in that I was interested.”

“I just thought you liked havin’ an audience.”

“You’re literally the only person I like watching me.”

He sighs loudly, looking away. “I feel dumb for not realizin’ sooner.” He shakes his head. “Fuck, I wouldn’t have even made a move if Ellie hadn’t put me up to it.”

You smile. “What, did she dare you?”

He has the sweetest smile when he meets your eyes. “No, she made a deal with me that she’d ask out her crush if I asked out mine.”

“That is the cutest shit, and I do not know why you being a good dad really does it for me. Come up here and kiss me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, groaning as he crawls up the bed, ending up with his hips in the cradle of your thighs, feeling his cock all hot and hard digging into your belly. His arms are on either side of your head to hold himself up, his face above your own. “You’re beautiful,” he says, nudging the tip of his nose against yours.

“Thank you,” you breathe. “You’re very handsome.”

His lips hover over your own. “You want me to kiss you?” he whispers.

“Please.”

“As my lady commands,” he responds, slotting his mouth to yours in a searing kiss.

You moan at tasting yourself on his lips, your hands ending up in his hair, opening for his tongue to slip inside and slide along your own. It gets more and more fervent, your body thrumming in desire until the need becomes too much, and you’re murmuring into his mouth. “Fuck me.”

He groans, answering, “Can’t yet—gotta make sure you can take me.”

You break the kiss, his mouth red and kiss swollen, his dark eyes looking at you questioningly.

“I’m wet enough,” you reply. “Just stick it in.”

He inhales deeply. “I don’t wanna hurt you, baby.”

“Isn’t it supposed to hurt?”

It’s always a bit uncomfortable at first.

His eyes squeeze shut, taking a deep breath, whispering, Jesus Christ, on the exhale. “No, sweetheart, it’s not supposed to hurt if you’re doin’ it right.”

“Oh.” You’re frowning. “Joel?”

He looks at you. “Yes, Tiny Dancer?”

“I’ve had sex with the wrong people, haven’t I?”

“Looks that way, but we’re changin’ that tonight.” He kisses you quickly before he moves to lie on his side beside you, one arm propping his head up, his other fingers skating up your stomach to your breasts, circling around one nipple, then the other, making you shiver and goosebumps erupt on your skin. “I’m gonna use my fingers,” he rasps, his finger now circling your belly button. “I need to open you up—is that alright?”

“Yes.” You nod. “As we’ve discovered, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing—can’t believe I’ve been doing sex wrong.”

He sighs. “Just chose selfish assholes who didn’t give a fuck about you or your comfort.” His eyes narrow, eyebrows knitting together, his hand pausing. “Do any of ‘em live here?” he asks in a low tone, and the change in demeanor makes you gulp.

“So you can teach them a lesson…?”

“I just wanna talk, is all.”

“Uh-huh, right. With your fists? The enthusiasm is sexy, Joel, but they’re all back in Colorado.”

“A shame.”

You cup his cheek. “Just means you get to show me how to have good sex, and isn’t that exciting?” you ask, wagging your eyebrows. “You’re the first man who’s made me come, and I’d really like to do that with your dick inside me.”

“Fuck,” the word is said barely above a whisper, seeing his throat bob as he swallows. “You’re gonna be the goddamn death of me. I fuckin’ know it.”

Smiling, you pat his cheek. “Never, Joel. I like you too damn much.”

He has a little smirk. “Yeah? You like me?”

“I mean, I’m counting this as our first date, and I’ve already told you I’m in love with you and have basically proposed marriage, so I’d say yes, I like you very much.”

He chuckles, his hand coming up to cradle your jaw, his thumb rubbing over your bottom lip. “You’re so fuckin’ cute.” He presses two fingers to your lips. “Suck,” he orders. “Get ‘em nice and wet so I can loosen you up ‘cause I am fuckin’ dyin’ to be inside you.”

Doing as he says, you suck them into your mouth, massaging them with your tongue, ensuring you’re getting them nice and wet, feeling delighted when his mouth falls open.

“Have uh—” He pauses to audibly gulp. “You asked if you could suck my dick. Have you ever…?”

His fingers leave you, shining in spit.

“No,” you answer, shaking your head. “It’d be another first.”

His eyes get darker, moving his hand between your legs, sucking in a breath when he slowly circles your clit, causing sparks of arousal to dance in your belly.

“Fuck, baby, I’ll show you how a bit later—I’m still convinced you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me,” his voice is huskier, dipping his fingers lower to press one thick finger into your aching entrance. “Especially,” he continues, sliding in another digit that makes you moan at the stretch, “with this pussy.” His fingers are pumping in and out of you while his thumb moves on your bundle of nerves, the fire burning low in your stomach, slowly building. He scissors his digits, and you gasp his name.

“Yeah,” he says, leaning over you to give you a quick kiss. Your fingers thread into his hair, pulling him back down for another that he smiles into, him murmuring against your lips, “Gotta get you really fuckin’ wet and stretch you out a bit, pretty girl. I want you to love havin’ my dick inside you and make you feel so good, you beg me to fuck you again—bet you wouldn’t let any of those other guys back inside this perfect pussy.” You’re whimpering, energy thrumming under your skin as he works you up. “Fuck, you’ve made me so fuckin’ hard it hurts. All I can think about is how fuckin’ tight and warm you’ll be when I finally split you open on my cock—Hell, might even make me come on the spot. You’d like that, wouldn’t ya? Knowing your sweet little cunt drives me fuckin’ wild—you drive me wild, I’m fuckin’ crazy about you and wanna be the only man you want or need.”

He kisses you again, his words making your heart pound in your chest, your body burning up, pushing you closer and closer to your release.

“You are,” you moan into his mouth.

“I’m what?”

“The only man I want.” Your fingers have a tight grip on his grey strands of hair. “It’s so fucking good, Joel—you’re fingers feel so fucking good. Oh my god, you’re gonna make me come again.”

“Damn straight, I am.”

He crooks his fingers, sliding them along your top wall until he rubs something that has you pulling his hair and moaning his name, your back arching. “There it fuckin’ is.” He sped up, fucking his digits into it over and over, the fire in your belly getting hotter and hotter.

“You gonna come for me?” he asks, hearing his fingers moving in and out of you wetly. “Can feel you fuckin’ flutterin’, I know you’re close.”

There’s no time for you to answer because you’re hitting your breaking point and coming with a gasp of his name, your cunt seizing up as pleasure radiates through your body.

“There we fuckin’ go,” he says into your lips. “My good girl.” He kisses you hard, pressing a third finger inside you, the wetness from your orgasm easing the way. Your mind is a pleasurable haze, enjoying his lips on yours while he spreads his fingers, reveling in the delicious stretch.

He breaks the kiss, pulling back, and you open your eyes to see his already on yours.

“I think you’re ready,” he says. “You still want my dick?”

“Yes.” You nod. “I’ve never wanted dick more.”

That makes him smile.

“Good,” he replies, nuzzling his nose against yours before kissing you softly.

His fingers leave you, groaning as he moves to have his body hovering over yours with one arm beside your head, holding himself up while kneeling between your legs.

He meets your gaze. “You tell me if it doesn’t feel good.”

“Yes, Joel.” You nod again.

“Good girl,” he purrs. His free hand comes up to his mouth, spitting on his fingers, using them to slick up his cock, then he slides his length through your folds to get himself even wetter. He notches at your entrance and slowly starts pushing in, it feeling like he’s splitting you open, your cunt accommodating his girth, stretching around him, filling you inch by glorious inch.

He’s cursing under his breath as he slides in all the way, and when he’s bottomed out, you feel so unbelievably full it has you gasping—your fingers are digging into his shoulders, Joel’s face pressing into your neck.

“Jesus Christ,” he groans, the sound muffled. “You’re pussy’s gonna make me come.” The thought of him coming inside you has you clenching around him. “Fuck,” he pants. “Don’t do that—I need a second, or this is gonna end before it’s started.”

You’ve never let someone come inside you, yet here you are saying roughly, “Joel?”

His head comes up immediately to look you in the eyes with worry on his brow.

“Am I hurtin’ you?” he asks earnestly. “Is it too much?”

“No, it’s so fucking good—it feels so fucking good. You feel so good inside me.”

“What is it, Tiny Dancer?”

“I want you to come inside me. Please.”

He hisses, a pained look coming over his face, feeling his cock jerk. “I can’t,” he pants. “Can’t risk it—you can have it anywhere else.”

“Okay,” you reply, trying not to sound too downtrodden—it’s his choice, after all, and you respect it.

“Sorry, baby,” he kisses you sweetly. “I’m gonna move.” He pulls one of your legs up high on his ribs, then the other, both of his arms ending up on either side of your head, locking your feet at the small of his back, feeling the splay of muscles move as he pulls almost all the way and pushes back in, both your mouths falling open. He starts with a slow, steady rhythm, his dick carving out space in your depths and filling you perfectly. He’s so big that when he pushes all the way inside, it feels like he’s all up in your guts, the feeling stealing your breath, but it’s so good—his cock is pressing into spots you didn’t know existed, that familiar heat making itself known in your lower belly.

Sex has never felt like this.

He’d gotten you so wet, he’s sliding easily in and out of you, hearing the suck of your pussy taking him. It’s blowing your mind at how fucking amazing it feels, even with him being so well-endowed, there isn’t any discomfort—you’re moaning unbidden, unable to keep it in, Joel breathing hard, him slowly picking up the pace until he’s grunting, and there’s a slap of skin on skin, his thick cock filling you over and over.

The only thing you can think about is how good he feels, pleasure wracking through your body with every push and pull of his hips. Your nails are digging into the skin of his shoulder blades, Joel's mouth fusing with yours to kiss you while he fucks.

“Touch yourself,” he says into your lips, and you slide a hand into the little bit of space between your bodies to play with your clit. His golden skin glistens in sweat, a beautiful flush crawling up from his chest to his gorgeous neck and cheeks, rough sounds pulling from his throat as he kisses you. Your fingers work against your sensitive nub, and it has you rocketing closer and closer to your end before you’re coming again, crying out his name, your body tensing, your pussy squeezing him so tight, a strangled groan escapes Joel as he has to slow to a stop.

Your body is alight in ecstasy, Joel nose to nose with you, a drop of sweat on the tip of his falling onto yours, saying through heavy breaths, “You almost fuckin’ got me.”

Blinking open your eyes, you look up at him with a dreamy smile.

“Yeah?” you ask, voice rougher than usual. “Am I gonna make you come?”

“Yeah, you fuckin’ are.”

“Good—come for me.”

He starts moving again, his hips pushing in and out of you, hearing the wet slide of his cock fucking into you.

His face screws up like he’s in pain, his mouth slack, eyebrows knitting together, eyes closed, grunting as he sets up a hard pace that makes your eyes roll back.

It’s so fucking good.

“I want you to come for me,” you moan. “I want you to feel good, Joel.” Your hands move into his sweat-damp hair.

“I feel so fuckin’ good with you,” he groans, crashing his mouth to yours, kissing you desperately, all tongues and teeth, your noses bumping.

The springs in the mattress are squeaking, the headboard hitting the wall in time with his thrusts, the slick sounds of your pussy taking him filling the air, combined with moans and groans, the noises in the room are absolutely obscene.

He’s panting into your mouth, picking up in speed, his rhythm getting jerky.

It’s been a long fucking time since he last fucked someone, and he’s so fucking lost inside your pussy—it’s nirvana, heaven, your tight, wet heat lulling him to his finish, his brain unable to think of anything else except how good you feel around him; how perfect, your cunt hugging his cock snugly in your deep, warm depths, and making him lose his goddamn mind.

He told you he couldn’t come inside you—that’s been a hard no for him ever since he lost Sarah, not wanting to risk bringing another child into this godforsaken world, and here you are tempting him.

His conundrum is he likes you a lot, and he knows you like him, too, and not only that, you just like him—there’s no ulterior motive, you don’t want or expect anything from him except him, and he’s so fucking gone on you that maybe it might not be a bad thing if consequences happen from this evening.

Here in this somewhat normal town, he can see you having a life together. One night, and he’d like to have a life with you or whatever you’re willing to give him. He’s spent so many years suffering in his grief and wasting away his days that maybe it’s time for him to actually live. Ellie’s here and safe, and now you’ve come into the picture, and he doesn’t want to keep living the way he has been.

He’s feeling so fucking good, caught up in how you’ve bewitched him, his strokes getting faster, the knot in his belly winding tighter and tighter—it hits him suddenly—the point of no return, his balls tightening up, and it’s too late to pull out, he’s too far gone. His cock is pushed in all the way to the hilt when the coil snaps, coming with a guttural groan that reverberates in his chest, spurts and spurts of his spend gushing deep inside you, Joel feeling like he’s filling you to the brim.

Pleasure is thrumming in his veins, his heart pounding, collapsing on top of you with his face nestled in the crook of your neck, panting breaths and comforted by your scent—your fingers are moving in his hair, and he’s on cloud nine.

The thing that surprises him is he’s not panicking. At minimum, he expected dread, yet there’s nothing but warmth and happy contentment.

When was the last time he felt this blissed out?

He can’t even fucking remember—he hasn’t felt this relaxed in probably over twenty years.

You say something, but he’s so out of it he doesn’t make out the words.

He hums in question, putting all of his energy into listening.

“I said I’m keeping you.”

Joel snorts.

“Good,” he murmurs. “I’m keepin’ you, too. Fuckin’ milked me dry.”

“Was that okay?” you ask, and he can hear your worry, lifting his head to look you in the eyes.

“I’m well aware of what could happen—are you okay with that?”

There’s a small smile on your lips. “Yeah, I am.”

“Then everything’s okay.” He kisses you tenderly.

After a minute, you pull back. “You’re gonna stay the night, right? Like, we can do… more?”

He smiles. “Tomorrow’s Saturday, and I’m assumin’ you have it off?”

“I do.”

“So do I, and I’d love to stay tonight and the next if you’ll have me.”

Your mouth is turned up in that gorgeous smile, him loving your fingers pushing his hair away from his face. “You can stay forever, Joel.”

And there isn’t anywhere else he’d rather be.

2 years later…

It’s a warmer night, with it being the beginning of summer. The stars shine brightly in the sky high above as Joel and you stroll hand in hand down the street back to his house.

“Thank you for dancing with me,” you tell him, turning your head to look at him, the moon offering some light.

He meets your eyes. “Anytime, Tiny Dancer—it was better than me fightin’ that fucker who wouldn’t leave you alone.”

The bar had been packed tonight, with a lot more people dancing and one guy, who you assumed was new to town, that wouldn’t stop bothering you, which led to Joel getting up from his corner table and staring daggers at the other man as he pulled you into his arms and danced with you.

“It was better, and I enjoyed it very much.”

He smiles. “I know you did, baby,” he replies, kissing your hair.

Arriving at the house, Joel opens the front door for you, walking in first, hearing sounds in the living room, and heading that way.

“...Oh no!” Ellie exclaims dramatically. “They’re gonna get you—better use the jump drive!” As you walk into the room, she makes rocket noises, finding her lying on her back in the middle of the floor, holding up a laughing one-year-old, pretending the baby is flying. “Oh, yuck, you got drool in my mouth, Ollie.” She lowers the baby down on her chest to wipe at her mouth, Joel standing beside you, his arm going around your waist, both of you smiling. Her head tilts up, realizing you’re standing there. “Hey!” she greets. “Wait, fuck, how late is it?”

“Late enough that Olivia should be asleep,” you answer.

Olivia Sarah Miller was a year and three months old and looked so much like her dad that, aside from her complexion, it was a wonder if she’d gotten any of your genes.

“Fuck.” Ellie sits up with one arm, the other holding the baby. “I can explain—you know she has that tooth coming in, and she wouldn’t stop crying when I tried to put her in bed, so I brought her down here so she could chew on a cold carrot like you told me to do when she’s teething. While she was doing that, I was reading her that issue of Savage Starlight Joel found me, and then you know, she wanted to be Dr. Daniela Star and travel faster than light.”

“Uh huh,” Joel says. “Olive wanted to be the Doctor?”

“She did,” Ellie confirms.

“Your baby sister, who can barely talk, told you that?” he asks.

“I’ve learned to translate her babbles, and it was clear she said—” Ellie uses her free hand to make the baby’s bottom lip move to look like she’s talking. “—‘Ellie, I wanna fly.’”

“You’re a fuckin’ liar.”

Olivia yawns, her eyes starting to close on their own.

Ellie grins, speaking quietly, “Yeah, but I tired her out, so you’re fuckin’ welcome.”

Joel sighs, walking over to her, the baby looking up at her dad and holding up her little chubby arms, saying in a tired voice, “Dadadadadada.”

“Yes, baby girl,” he answers fondly. “Daddy’s home.” He groans as he bends down to pick her up, the baby shoving her face in his neck, putting one of her hands on his chin. “Thank you for watchin’ her, Ellie,” he says. “A great job, as always. You stayin’ the night here or goin’ over to Cat’s?”

“Heading to Cat’s, but I’ll meet you guys for breakfast in the morning,” she replies, getting up from the floor.

“We’ll see you then, kiddo.”

“Thanks again, Ellie,” you tell her, smiling. “You’re your sister’s favorite babysitter.”

“Fuck yeah, I am!” she replies in whispered exclamation, walking closer to you. “Hopefully, I’ll be the next one’s favorite, too. How’s my brother doing?”

You snort. “Such high hopes it’s a boy when you know Joel is a girl dad—give me your hand.” She holds it out to you, and you press it to your large swollen belly. “Feel them kicking?”

Her eyes are round in wonder, staring at your stomach. “Strong fuckin’ kicks,” she says. “I definitely think it’s a boy.”

“Well, less than two months, and we’ll know.”

“Yeah, soon I’ll be proven right. Night guys!”

“Goodnight,” you both reply, watching as she heads out of the living room, hearing the front door open and close.

Olivia is passed out in Joel’s arms, him turning his head to kiss her forehead, his big hand rubbing up and down her back.

“Let’s go put her down,” you whisper.

“Yeah,” he answers just as quietly. “I believe I made a promise to my wife I’d eat her out for an hour.”

“Pretty sure it was two hours, and you did, my sweet husband.” Reaching up to stroke his cheek.

“I love you,” he says with big eyes full of devotion, his head moving to kiss your palm.

“I love you, too.”

Masterlist

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