#el turns 22
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happy birthday, ella!!! 🥳🎉💕
thank you so much anna!!!
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El at the sleepover when she and Max have been playing spin the bottle for an hour and it just keeps landing on each other
#headcanon#elmax#both of them thinking the other is just a dumbass for not realizing there are no other outcomes#mine#funny#max: wait el i have to confess something... this game is supposed to be played with more than two people#el: max. i figured that out 22 turns ago
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Protect Her, Alessia Russo
Being a police officer was an incredibly demanding job; both physically and mentally. You had seem some things that no human should ever had to see, you were made to work stupidly long hours and everyday you were putting your life on the line.
But it was your dream job. It was you ever wanted to do. From being a little girl, you always dreamed over becoming a police officer. You dreamed of making a difference in the world, to help make the world a safer place to be in. Being a woman made the process of becoming a police officer a hell of lot more difficult. People had constantly doubted your capabillity and your quality as a police officer because of your gender. So, it fuelled you all the more. And at 22, you stand as the youngest Chief Constable of the police force.
Having your dream job was amazing but nothing will ever beat the feeling of being able to go home to your dream girl. You had met Alessia at the Euros. Along with a few others, you were assigned as security for the England Women's Team throughout the Euros. You had managed to muster up the confidence to ask her out after the Euros Final and it all went from there. Up until a few months ago, you and her were over 4 hours away from each other. Her being in Manchester and you being in London. But when she signed for Arsenal you had asked her to move in with you and it had been more than a dream to live with her. You had now been together for a little over a year.
Speaking of your girl, you had just got back home after a long and grueling 12 hour shift. All you wanted was to be with your lover.
"Sweetheart, I'm back home." You shouted as you made your way into your home, taking your work boots and vest off on the way leaving them bye the front door.
"I'm upstairs, Babe. I'm just on a live." She souted back to you, causing you to run up the stairs making your way to yours and Alessias shared bedroom.
There she was, sat by her dressing table chatting away to her phone as if there was nothing else around her. You walked over to where she was sat, wrapping your hands over her shoulders before kissing her forehead. As soon as she felt your prescence , she jumped up from her seat. Standing in front of you, wrapping her arms around your neck, leaning up to place multiple pecks on your lips, not wanting to show too much PDA on her live.
You went and sat where she was sat in front of her phone before patting your lap signalling her to sit. Her arms coming around your neck whilst one of yours was wrapped possessively around her waist and the other resting on her thigh making sure she didn't slip off you.
"I've missed you." You whispered to her, as you tucked your head in the crook of her neck placing a kiss there.
"I've missed you too, but babe we're on a live." She laughed slightly, her hands came to pull your head out of her neck. You immediately falshed her an innocent smile, telling her that you didn't think you were doing anything wrong.
You and Alessia spent the next half an hour on live, talking to the fans and answering all sorts of questions, before you both said bye and ended the live.
As soon as Alessia put her phone down and ended the video, you stood up with her still in your hold. You turned around and put her on your bed before climbing over the top of her. Your hands resting either side of her head, hovering you face just inches away from hers.
"I forgot how good you looked in uniform." She said whilst grabbing your top, pulling you down so your lips met hers. The kiss messy and passionate; not being able to have each other's physical touch for the last 12 hours was really showing.
"Hmm, is that so?" You questioned, pulling your lips from hers before dipping your head into her neck going for the spot you know makes her like putty in your hands.
You were suddenly distracted from your current activities when you heard a smashing sound coming from downstairs. Alessia body just froze whilst you quickly sat up, recognising that someone else was in your house. The sound of smashing and footsteps ran through your house.
Your officer instincs soon kicked in, standing up to make your way out of your bedroom to make your way downstairs.
"Less, darling i've got to go downstairs." You whispered to her, trying to make sure that you weren't heard.
"Y/N, i'm scared." She told you, the fear she held was evident on her face, her eyes becoming red showing that she was trying not to cry.
You reached over and pulled her so she was sat on the edge of your bed, you standing inbetween her legs. You hands gently grabbed her face so she was looking up at you before telling her, "Hey, look at me. I will not let anything happen to you. I'll do anything, everything to make sure I protect you. I'll keep you safe. But sweetheart, to do that, I need to go downstairs."
"Let me come with you."
"No, Alessia. I can't risk that. I need you stay up here." You told her sternly, hoping the use of her name re-enforced your seriousness.
Her arms gripping tight around your waist, her face digging in to your stomach.
"Less. I need you stay in here, I need you to call the police for me."
"No one's gonna be calling the police!" A low, unknown voice stated but before you could turn around you felt something smash against your head, causing you to drop to the floor.
You heard Alessia gasp at what she had just seen. You managed to reach for the back of your head and when you brought your hand back round, it was covered in blood.
It took you another few minutes to again understand what was happening, the impact on your head was hard enough to make you feel dizzy and confused.
You looked over one side and Alessia was still sat on the bed, completely frozen in her spot, looking down at you. Tears streaming down her face.
You turned your hear and looked to see that whoever was in your house, was face deep routing through yours and Alessias drawers. This was your chance, your only chance.
You had to keep her safe. You had to protect Alessia.
So, you managed to muster up the energy to quickly get up and run towards him and take him down to the ground.
Then, it became a brawl. You managed keep him on the ground until another spell of dizziness hit you giving him the opportunity to take control. To which he did, kneeing your harshly in the stomach. Rolling the pair of you over, so that now he was on top: you tried to fight him off but your dazed state was clearly making you weaker.
And then you felt it.
He had put a knife straight into your stomach before pulling it out meaning that a substancial amount of blood was pouring out of your stomach.
Before anything else could happen, he was quick to get up and dash out of your house. The realisation of what he had just done was kicking in.
As soon as he left the room, Alessia came running towards you. Taking her hoodie off, putting over the bleeding mess on your stomach. You groaned at the pressure that was on your stomach, the pain was becoming unbearable. You felt Alessia pull your head onto her lap, beginning to feel her tears falling onto your face.
Your vision was becoming blurrier and sounds were muffled but you could just about make out that Alessia was on the phone.
You could feel your eyes beginning to close, the blood loss becoming too much for your body to cope with.
"Baby, NO! You need to stay awake for me. The ambulance are on the way." She said, placing a kiss on your forehead. Her voice muffled, due to her crying.
"I love you, Less." You told her, through ragged breathing and slurred words.
Alessia could hear how strained your voice was, the pain you were in was clearly showing through your voice.
"No, no. You don't need to tell me that. Baby, your okay." Her tears flowing worse now, the realisation of what you were actually trying to tell her was not what she wanted to think about.
But you didn't get the chance to reply, your body shutting down due to your pain and the amount of blood you had loss.
Alessia's crying was the only sound running through your house as she looked down to see that you had closed your eyes and your body had become a dead weight on her legs.
The ambulance and police got there minutes after that. The paramedics were quick to take you to the ambulance and rush you to the hospital. The whole journey Alessia hand never left your, right the way until they had to take to you to hospital.
Alessia sat there in the waiting room waiting for news about you. She had rang her parents who were currently in Manchester so it would take them a couple of hours to reach the hospital. So, she rang Leah who was straight down to the hospital.
"Oh, Less. I'm so sorry sweet." She told her whilst sitting next to her wrapping her into a hug.
Alessia leaning into Leah's hold, the weight of the afternoon completely taking a toll on her body. Leah couldn't tell her she weren't worried, Alessia's reaction didn't exactly bring any sort of reassurement to her. On Alessia's team, Leah and Ella were definatly the ones you were closest too. The amount of double dates Alessia had dragged you on with Ella and Joe was just insane,
Alessia were waiting another couple of hours before anything happened, it was getting closer to the time where everyone was made to leave the hospital but Alessia still had no news.
"I'm not going. Just can someone please tell me whats going on." She told one of the docters, tears flowing on her face all over again.
"Miss Russo. Y/N Y/L/N, her surgery went well, she is stable but she needs rest, which is why we have put her into a coma. I suggest you go home and get some sleep before seeing her." The doctor told Alessia, re-assuring her that things went aswell as they could.
"C'mon Less, you can stay at mine tonight and we can come back tommorow and see her, yeah." Leah said, putting her arms over Alessias shoulder leading her out of the hospital.
The next few days were a blur for Alessia. She didn't go to training but Leah had explained why she wasn't there and Jonas had contacted Alessia letting her know that everyone was thinking of you and her. Her parents and brothers had got to the hospital the next morning.
Alessia spent all day by your bedside: holding your hand, telling you her favourite memories and what she wants to do with you in the future.
4 days after your surgery, the doctors were happy with how your body was healing and took the tubes away that were helping you breath. Meaning your were breathing by yourself again.
The next day, Alessia was in the hospital as early as she could be, exactly like the other days. Making her way towards your room, sitting by your bed, taking ahold of your hand.
But today was different, she finally felt you try and squeeze her hand.
"Y/N, baby. Can you hear me?" She asked you, her voice soft so she didn't startle you.
"Less?" You groaned. Your face scrunching up as your eyes were reacting to the bright light above you.
"Yeah, i'm here. I'm right here." Her eyes beginning to water, her emotional side getting the better of her.
"Please don't cry, i'm okay."
"I was so scared, I thought I was going to lose you." She said whilst crying still, both her hands now gripping yours.
"Come here, Less." You slid over to the side of your bed so that Alessia could lay there aswell.
She carefully got up onto your bed, lifting her arm up so you could rest your head on her chest. You groaned as you lent down on her, the pain was still there in your stomach. You wrapped your arms around her waist whilst one of hers gently rubbed your back, the other pushing your hair out of your face.
"Hey, it'll take more than some scrawn to kill me off. You stuck with me, love." You told her, trying to make light of the situation.
"I'm perfectly fine with that." She told you, laughing at your way with words.
"I love you, Y/N"
"I love you too, Less. So much."
#woso#woso x reader#woso imagine#alessia russo#alessia russo x reader#alessia russo imagine#alessia russo x y/n#awfc#arsenal women#leah williamson#arsenal wfc#engwnt#lionesses#woso fanfics
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hot & heavy
epilogue: our love is going gold
neighbor!joel x f!reader
series masterlist
series rating: E (18+ MDNI)
series summary:
over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?
word count: 17.2k (but she's done. like done, done.)
warnings (**SPOLIERS**): NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is now 10 y/o), nanny au, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, mariposa, etc.), established relationship, engagement, marriage, alcohol, eating, very lovey romantic, polite southern manners, spanish/spanglish cause joel is latino, soft joel, domestic joel, WIFE!! GUY!! JOEL!!, discussion of parenting, step-parenting, struggles with conceiving, negative self talk and image, smut, soft dom joel, fingering, oral (f receiving), joel worships the ground his wife walks on and also her body, praise, unprotected p in v (they're tryna get pregnant, not you!), breeding kink, sort of nursing kink? joel is briefly obsessed with your tits and makes comments, mating press, a flash of cumplay, the BRIEFEST mention of daddy kink, joel really wants to give his wife a baby, pregnancy, a mention of giving birth, girl dad joel, CUTE FAMILY!!!
also this is the song mentioned <3 it's a fave of mine and i think very joel & mari
a/n: this has been a doozy but happy to hand this over to y'all. this is simply what i envisioned for their future, and if you had different thoughts, i would love to hear them! <3 or if you have any headcanons for their life beyond this, drop them in my inbox! this fic and these characters are my children and i love them very much. will probably keep them alive somehow. and thank you to everyone who's read this series, you are all so special to me and have sincerely made me feel so much more confident in my writing!
as always, thank you thank you thank you @northernbluess for beta-ing, couldn't do it without you! and this extremely long ending is dedicated to el and kiwi @kiwisbell you are my hype people fr
i feel like i need to say like signing off on h&h now lol so this is me doing that & closing the book!
** this is set over three additional summers post-main story **
first of many
After the holidays, it was an easy decision to move in with Joel and Sarah. The Millers had joined your family for their annual, lowkey celebrations; spending Christmas Eve with Joel and Sarah, it was a treat to witness him playing Santa after Sarah had gone to bed. Only a few curses under his breath putting together the new dollhouse she’d requested from St Nick, the other presents from her father, and your gifts to her carefully wrapped under the tree. The two of you split the plate of cookies while watching A Christmas Story, you and Joel taking turns mumbling the words to the iconic scenes under your breaths.
The next morning, your heart was overwhelmed with the love that you hold for this family that has welcomed you in and made you a part of it. Sarah gifted you a photo frame that she’d made at school, painted with flowers and butterflies, and a photo of the three of you from the trip to the apple orchard you’d taken that fall. Once Sarah was occupied with her new treasures, gifts were exchanged between you and Joel. Requesting to gift first, you stand up from the couch and tiptoe around Sarah and her new dolls sprawled across the floor to the front hall closet and retrieve a brand new, custom acoustic guitar.
Sitting back with him, guitar placed into his hands and his eyes combing over it, his lips part with a gasping breath when he notices in the inlay of ‘SME’ for his daughter’s name, Sarah Elena.
“The old one in the corner of your room was lookin’ a little worse for wear, and I hadn’t seen you play it in a while…” you trail off in the silence, waiting for his response, “Do you—do you like it? Is it the right kind? I tried to match it the best I could to the one upstairs.”
“Oh, Mari baby, I love it. It’s beautiful, thank you so much…” He shakes his head, taking another sighing exhale in appreciation as he turns it in his hands. “Hadn’t played the other one 'cause it wasn’t quite playable anymore. Restrung it a few too many times, the wood was warped from some water damage. The perils of having a toddler around years ago. This is…it’s perfect, Mariposa.”
You beam, shifting in your seat and anxiously fiddling with your fingers. Joel sets the instrument down next to him carefully, turning back to you. He leans in, kissing you delicately and whispering another ‘thank you’ against your lips, “Guess m’gonna have to serenade you now.”
“Oh, yeah, J. I expect one nightly,” you playfully respond, kissing him again before he pulls away, his turn to stand from his place on the couch.
He wanders over to the tree, plucking the last wrapped gift from under it, and returning to sit next to you. Handing over the small rectangular box, you unwrap it gingerly, glancing at Joel’s knee bouncing. You gently set your hand on it, smiling at him which he returns, biting his lip to channel his jittery energy. Opening the box, you’re met with the shining gold links of a beautiful charm bracelet. Your eyes wander over the small icons, feeling your chest tighten with love as you take them all in: A small ‘S’ with a ruby-colored stone at each end of the curve, a matching ‘J’ with a sapphire embedded into it right next to the ‘S; there’s a tiny gold key, nearly identical to the one he had given to you those three summers before for your job that started it all; a tiny set of longhorn antlers that is reminiscent of home; a lighthouse that reminds you of one you visited while living in Boston, a day you had documented and sent Joel some of the photos in the mail to recap your time. It was a day you had been happy there, and it made your heart ache that he remembered that. The last charm on the bracelet is a butterfly, bejeweled with kelly green stones, the color of the leaves that you told him were your favorite years ago. The ache in your chest is worked out of its knot with Joel’s hand at your back, a gasping breath as you blink back tears.
Clearing your throat, your watery smile has a flash of worry crossing his eyes before you hand him the bracelet you’ve taken out of the box, lightly requesting, “Will you put it on for me?”
Joel nods shyly, taking the dainty piece in his hands, and hooking the clasp around your wrist after a few tries. You both admire it, your smile growing wider and his matching yours.
“Merry Christmas, Mari baby. I love you.”
“Merry Christmas, J. I love you, too.”
Now, months later, the bracelet on your wrist glints in the sun as you hold onto Sarah’s hand, letting her lead you around the atrium filled with butterflies. Spending the day at the same farm you three had visited summers ago, and had kept up with the tradition with the summers following, you picked an abundance of strawberries, wandered through the nature paths, and now ending the day at the youngest Miller’s favorite spot.
Sarah wildly points out the different types of butterflies, the encyclopedia book of the insect’s species that you had gifted her for Christmas coming in handy for today as she reads the small signs of each patterned, winged creature, adding in her tidbits that she remembers. A grin stays plastered on your face as you listen intently, paying no mind to Joel trailing behind the two of you.
Giving your lessons on the flora that you know of in the gardens, Sarah listens to you as well. Stopping in front of the small waterfall, surrounded by tropical plants and flowers, the two of you go back and forth in fun facts about plants and butterflies, unaware as Joel saddles up behind you. Sarah glances back over her shoulder and grins, the expression reading as knowing and mischievous. Before turning around, you start to warn Joel behind you playfully, “J, if you’re even thinking about pushing me or splashing me, I will ki—”
Your breath catches when you finally face him, eyes dropping to meet his; the backpack he’d be adamant about carrying all day is at his feet, unzipped, and in his hands is a small, forest-green velvet box. Joel rests on one knee, a soft but bright, devoted smile on his face.
“Oh my god…” It comes from your lips as a whisper, your free hand reaching up to cover your mouth while the other continues to tether you to Sarah at your side, her small giggle hitting your ears as Joel glances at her, sending her a wink.
Eyes back on your face, Joel clears his throat, adjusting himself on his knee as he takes a deep breath, “I have been trying to figure out exactly what to say, and I can’t seem to find quite the right words that tell you exactly how I feel about you. I love you, so much, Mariposa. The second you entered my life, that time I saw you for only seconds in your backyard while I was touring the house, I knew I had to meet you. And then the first time I met you, well, I knew that you were who I needed.
“I’ve been walking around blind, trying to figure out life for years, and moving next door to you, that was the last piece falling into place. You have made my life, and Sarah’s life, a million times better. And while these past few years haven’t been picture-perfect for us, we made it through, and I know that we can take on anything that comes our way. Eres el alma más hermosa que he conocido, y soy muy afortunada de tenerte. (You are the most beautiful soul I have ever met, and I am so lucky to have you.) I’ve been waiting for years to do this, Mari baby, and I can’t have any more summers pass by without you being mine. Tú eres mi media naranja. (You’re my soulmate.) I love you. Te amo, Mari. You’re my soulmate, sweet girl, and I can’t take another day without the promise of forever. Will you marry me, Mariposa?”
Without hesitation, you nod your head frantically, your tears that started falling as soon as Joel started speaking continue to flow. You uncover your mouth, squeezing Sarah’s hand and sharing a smile with her before she takes her hand away.
“Yes, oh my gosh, Joel…of course, of course, I’ll marry you. I love you so much, J.” You squat down in front of him, left hand trembling as you hold it out for him. He carefully takes the ring from the box, and Sarah, ever the helper, takes it from the spot where it rests on his knee for safekeeping. The delicate gold band slips onto your finger, embellished with clusters of tiny gems and centered with an emerald cut diamond. It’s perfectly you, and you can’t wipe the smile off your face as you watch Joel settle the piece of jewelry on your finger. Both of you take a deep breath, admiring the sight before your eyes find each other’s again, matching expressions of complete admiration. Your hands find his cheeks, pulling him in for a tenderly passionate kiss, attempting to breathe all the love in your chest into the kiss and his heart. Joel pulls away first, resting his forehead against yours for a quiet moment.
“Thank you, J,” you whisper, and his head tilts with curiosity.
“For what, baby? I think I should be thankin’ you for sayin’ yes to me.” He chuckles and rubs his thumb at the back of your hand, skimming next to the band of the new addition.
“Everything. For not giving up. Your patience when I was still finding my way back to you. How effortlessly you’ve welcomed me into your life and your family…” Cheating your body away, one hand reaches out to pull Sarah into the small huddle, reuniting the moment within your unit of three, “I just—I can’t wait for all my summers to be spent with you both.”
“I can’t wait either. This is gonna be the first of many, Mari baby.”
And the two of you really couldn’t wait.
Only a week after Joel was down on one knee, your family was throwing you an engagement party. Tommy, a few of Joel’s close friends from his contracting company, your college friends, and neighbors were all in attendance to celebrate the two of you, and it was a big to-do. Drinks flowing, music playing, and food was being passed around. Everything under the warmth of a Texas night and the strung lights across the stretch of your parents’ backyard. Joel was glued to your side the entire night, hand on your back or clasped in yours, grabbing your refills and whispering in your ear to make you laugh.
“So…are all of these people coming to the wedding? ‘Cause I can count about half that I have no idea who they are.”
To that, you whispered back, “I don’t know them either, so definitely not. Unless they wanna buy us the most expensive thing on the registry.” Joel laughed, squeezing you closer — if it were even possible — and pressing a kiss to your temple.
Later, once you two were far past tipsy, Joel mumbled against your ear, barely able to get the words out without drunkenly giggling himself, “D’you think Mrs. Clarke is thinkin’ m’the one that got away?”
You couldn’t contain your laughter, bursting out in the middle of the conversation happening around you two, quickly covering your mouth as the lingering hiccups escape, “I think she’s singin’ the blues about you, Miller.”
The rest of the evening was filled with small moments between the two of you; never left alone long enough to have a full conversation on your own. Whispers of love and affection breathed out, fleeting kisses exchanged. It wasn’t until the party was over, everyone dwindled out the door and back to their homes, that you and Joel took a beat to speak to each other in more than one sentence. The early hours of the morning had crept in without anyone quite noticing, and Sarah was knocked out, brought inside to sleep in your old bedroom around 10pm when she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore. Joel now held her in his arms, her head laying on his shoulder while the three of you walked the short distance home. After your quiet goodnight to Sarah that went unheard by her sleeping self, Joel put her down, taking off her shoes and leaving her undisturbed to sleep in her clothes.
Back in the ensuite of your, now, shared bedroom, you’re lazily getting ready for bed, movements slower and lagging from the alcohol you consumed. Joel stands behind you, facing your reflection in the mirror and giving you a smile as the exhaustion catches up to him.
“You have fun tonight, sweet girl?” His vocal cords rub together in a fry, hands finding their place on your waist and drawing you back into his chest. Littering kisses at the back of your neck, he hums contently before you affectionately shoo him off to brush his teeth while you apply your skincare.
“‘Course I did, J. Spent most of the night with you, how could I not have fun?” You grin at him from in front of your side of the double sinks, gently rubbing in your moisturizer. “Have you given any thought as to when you wanna set a date for?”
Whatever he responds is muffled by the foamy toothpaste, your face twisting in confusion before he leans over and spits out, rinsing his mouth and toothbrush. Standing back up, he rests his hip against the countertop while facing you, shrugging as he smirks slightly, “As soon as possible. Baby, I’d get married to ya in a garbage dump if it meant we could get married right this second. No puedo esperar para hacerte mi esposa. (Can’t wait to make you my wife.) And I know you don’t want that, and I want to make you happy, so whenever you want, Mari. Lo que sea que desees, lo haré realidad. (Whatever you wish for, I’ll make a reality.) But I will say, summer’s kind of our thing.”
A gentle smile stretches across your lips as you step closer, hands coming to rest on his chest and massaging your fingers gently into the muscles there, “Well, how about we do this summer? I mean, I don’t want anything fancy, just something special for us. Thought maybe we could do it here, in our backyard and my parents’. Where we met and fell in love and broke up and fell in love again and—”
“I love that idea, sweetheart. Think it’s perfect for us…” Joel punctuates his work by stealing a kiss, mint and strawberry lip balm melting on his tongue when he deepens it only for a few seconds, “Think we can manage for Labor Day weekend, mi amor?”
Nodding confidently, your hands skate up to his shoulders, pulling him down for another kiss, “I believe we just set our wedding date, Miller.”
“Damn right, we did, Miller.”
A whirlwind of planning and three months later, you now stand in your childhood bedroom on the second floor of your parent’s house, admiring yourself in the full-length mirror standing in the corner. Your mom had helped you with your hair, a small gold barette holding one side away from your face; your makeup was fairly minimal, fresh, and bright, but nothing too heavy that would melt in the heat that has graced Austin this weekend.
On your wrist is your charm bracelet from Joel, a simple gold locket to match that your father had gifted you the evening before at the rehearsal dinner — it has belonged to his grandmother, and now your grandma wanted you to have it since she couldn’t make the trip down due to her age. It was your ‘something old’ he said, playing into the old traditions that seemed to charm your entire family.
Your ‘something borrowed’ was a pair of white strappy sandals from your mom, ones that she had worn to her rehearsal dinner when she married your dad. The title of ‘something new’ belonged to the charm hanging off of your wrist that was hand-delivered to you this morning from Tommy, per the request of Joel since you both were getting ready in opposite houses. The gift box unveiled a gold lotus flower, hand painted with deep magenta petals. Inside the lid of the box was a folded note, the words written by your soon-to-be husband in his usual scrawl.
Mi amor,
Got to reading one of your books you leave around about plants, and they were talking about the lotus flower. Made me think of you — since they go back to the murky water each evening and open their blooms at the break of day. You always start fresh, sweet girl, you’re so resilient and strong and pure of heart. No matter what happens, you get through it. And you won’t have to go at it alone, baby. I’m gonna be right there with you through anything.
You make me a better man.
Te amo, mi media naranja.
J
You had to touch up your makeup after having read the note over and over for minutes straight, now fresh faced and eager to get downstairs. One last time in the mirror, you give yourself the once over, smoothing the long, full skirt of your linen dress. The ruched empire bodice lays across your chest, framing your neck with a square shape along with the cap sleeves. Simple, but it feels perfectly you. And now, you were finally on your way to get your something blue: Joel in his navy suit, waiting at the end of the aisle for you.
Everyone’s gathered in their seats, only a crowd of around forty people from your lives occupying the rows, all carefully selected to make the cut. It was easy for Joel, he had three people he wanted there for sure, and well, his daughter didn’t have a choice living right next door, plus with her dad being the groom, and you being the bride. The only chance of a wild card he had was Tommy, but he was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning despite the many shots he had the night prior. At the rehearsal dinner of all places.
Dressed and gaffed, he stands at the end of the short aisle after having walked down it hand-in-hand with Sarah, who was donning a lilac dress she picked out with your help and her hair in her natural, bouncy curls. She now sits next to Tommy in the front row, whose new girlfriend Maria is sitting on the other side of him, stealing peeks over the back of the seat to try to catch a glimpse of you at the top of the deck stairs. Joel is doing the same, eyes flickering from scanning over the crowd to tunneling at the opening of the stairs.
Music starts and it immediately tunes out of his ears, a tingle of excitement radiating from his chest throughout his body. A vision in white, you appear at the stairs with your arm linked to your dad, Mark; he isn’t paying attention to anything but you, captivated by your beauty. His heartbeat kicks up when you walk down, reaching the end of the grassy path between rows of chairs, and stopping for a moment. With the bouquet in one hand, you use the other that was resting on your dad’s arm to give him a short wave that he returns with a grin.
Each step you take brings up tears in his eyes, an overwhelming joy clenching around his heart. A few drop down his cheeks, using one of his thumbs to wipe away the streaks as you give him a gentle smile, speeding up your walk and dragging your dad along with you. The guests laugh at the eagerness, Joel rocking on the balls of his feet as he bites back his wild grin when you finally reach him. Exchanging hugs with your dad, Mark shakes Joel’s hand before clapping him on the back, a sure nod directed to him.
His hand slips into yours naturally, helping you with the last few steps to stand in front of him, exhaling a deep breath. A smile that he can’t wipe off stretches across his face, looking into your eyes as he lifts a hand to wipe his cheeks. You do the same, delicate touch against his skin while your gaze stays trained on his. Beating out of his chest, his heart thumps deeply, the wings of his butterfly fluttering madly in his gut in time with his heartbeat.
“Hey, Mari.”
“Hi, J.”
Everyone settles back in their seats, and your brother stands at the makeshift altar, a carved arbor handmade by Joel over the last few months frames the three of you in front of your guests. You turn to hand off the wildflower bouquet you put together to Sarah, eager to fulfill her responsibility of holding it during the ceremony. She grins, whispering to you loud enough for him to hear when she takes the arrangement.
“You look so pretty, Posey. I’m excited for you to marry Daddy.” Your hand reaches for her curls, squatting down in your dress to address her at eye level, unconditional love shining in your eyes as you look at his daughter.
“You look beautiful, Sare Bear. I’m so excited, too.” Other words are exchanged only between the two of you, a hug shared before Sarah retreats to her chair next to Tommy and you stand up and take Joel’s hands.
Chris ambles through an introduction, recollecting his version of events, as well as both of your sides, for how your relationship has progressed. Humor was laced throughout, laughter bubbling over throughout the crowd of guests, and especially between the two of you when you shared knowing expressions.
The ceremony moves quickly, with no religious elements to extend the length, simply secular. Before he knows it, Chris is reaching the vows, allowing a moment for Tommy to present the rings to each of you, clapping a hand on his brother’s back.
“Don’t fuck this one up, brother. Posey’s a good ‘un. Way too good for you—”
Joel cuts him off with a mumble and an eye roll, “I know all of this, Tommy, but thank you for the reminder.”
Chris directs Joel to go first, a deep inhale and extended exhale fills the air as you give his hands a reassuring squeeze. He flashes a smile at you before he drops one of your hands, finishing in his inside jacket pocket for the small slip of paper.
“I tried to memorize this, but we both know that wasn’t gonna happen…” he huffs out a nervous chuckle, reading over the page before his eyes come back to you, a patient and gentle grin on your face, “I genuinely hope you know how much I love you. I try to show you, to tell you, to make you feel it through osmosis every day, but I truly hope you can feel it. Through all that we have been through together and on our own, I have always had you in my mind. I thought about you every day you were away, and all I was hoping for was your happiness. I cannot tell you what it means that you have found your happiness with me, but I will be thanking whatever forces are out there for bringing us back together. Our roads may have been bumpy, and they may be in the future, but I’m so thankful to have you in my passenger seat. Cause we both know you don’t like to drive.” Joel winks and the crowd of guests laugh.
“I never want to let go. And I’m never going to let you go, Mariposa, I’m in it for the long run. Eres todo para mí. (You are everything to me.) You are everything I have ever asked for, hoped for, didn't think I deserved. You are…un alma tan pura (such a pure soul) and I don't know how you ended up with me, but I'm countin’ my luck every second of every day. I love you through anything, mi Mariposa, and I cannot wait for our future together, as a family. I’m so happy that you have found a place you belong with Sarah and me, and I feel so lucky that you have chosen me. Te amo, mi Mariposa. Siempre.”
Recovering from your tears, you choke out a small sob that tugs on his heartstrings, tightening his grip on your hand while his brow furrows softly in concern.
“Happy tears, I promise, J. Very happy tears.” Another sob comes with a burst of laughter, a hand of yours fanning your face. Joel reaches up, wiping away the stragglers, careful to not smudge any of your mascara. With a deep breath, you focus back, centered, offering Joel your left hand. He repeats the phrase from Chris, who recites it from his printed-out online ordainment course before slipping the simple matching gold band onto your finger above your engagement ring, ears ringing when he sees the symbol of his love and commitment on your finger, where it will stay for the rest of his time on this Earth.
Next, it was your turn to recite your vows, Chris pulled a piece of paper from his jacket and handed it to you. A giggle slips from your lips, wavering the small folded sheet, “Couldn’t memorize it either. Got too much to say…”
Joel relaxes in his stance, thumb circling the back of your palm as he listens, the butterfly wings fluttering into his chest and up to his head, love overwhelming his nervous system across his body. You clear your throat, looking up from the wrinkled white sheet, “I didn’t know that one summer spent at home would completely send me on a whole new life path, but looking back, I am eternally grateful that I wanted to mooch off my parents for as long as possible. That first summer, I fell hard and fast, and despite the obstacles, my love continued to root deeper inside of me and grow out new branches with every memory we made together. I am so lucky to have been welcomed so easily into the Miller household, and I cannot imagine my life with you or Sarah there right next to me. You both have brought so much into my life and thanks to you, J, I feel like I have truly found myself.
“I was always searching for what I was meant to do, who I was meant to be, and what I would leave behind in my life. And while I went out searching everywhere, the answer was my next-door neighbor. I am meant to be your person, I was meant to care and love and create a life with you, and your wonderful daughter, and I know I will leave behind all my love for you and our family behind. My success does not need to be measured by the reach of my impact, but by how deeply I love you. That is all that matters to me, to make you feel loved and supported and to know how incredible you are. You mean the world to me, and I love Sarah as if she were my own; both of you are my best friends and I could not do this life without you. I am so excited to spend the rest of my days, and the rest of my summers with you, J. I love you. Forever.”
The same routine goes for you, slipping a gold band around Joel’s left ring finger. He flexes with the new accessory on his hand, admiring it before he looks at you, a wide and wild grin crossing his face as he listens as Chris starts to ask him that very special question, “Joel, do you ta—”
“Absolutely I do. No question.”
Laughter rises from the attendees, and you, playfully roll your eyes. Chris nods shortly, chuckling as he turns to address you with the same question. He states your name, inquiring, “Do you ta—”
“Of course, I do. Only been waitin’ years for this to happen.”
Joel laughs, shaking his head as he mumbles a sweet agreement, “You and me both, baby.”
Chris drops the papers he was reading from next to him on the grass, clasping his hands together, “Well, that made it damn easy for me. With the power vested in me by apparently the state of Texas, but who really knows, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Now y’all can kiss finally.”
A hand presses against the small of your back, pulling you into his chest as he folds down, latching your lips to his in a deep kiss, all of his love pouring into the moment. It takes restraint to not take it further in front of everyone, your intoxicating taste drawing him in and quenching a perpetual thirst he has. You lean back first, fingertips digging into his shoulders to hold him off as you whisper, “Gotta keep some decorum until tonight, Mr. Miller.”
“Hard to do that with you, Mrs. Miller,” he rasps back, matching blindingly bright grins across your faces as you right yourself, turning to face your guests as your brother loudly announces.
“For the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Miller!”
With the low-key, intimate wedding that you both had planned together, there was no real formal separation of the ceremony and reception. Instead, everyone wandered over to the backyard of Joel’s home, which was now yours, too. There were rented tables set up with chairs around, no seating chart, and a checkered dance floor set up in the middle of the lawn. Lights have been strung from his deck to the tree at the back of the property line that holds Sarah’s tire swing, some lanterns strewn about to add more light as the sun sets in the later evening.
The family-favorite restaurant in the city that the three of you have frequented, even as friends, catered the meal, and your parents, ever so prepared, had stocked up all summer with booze. Your dad plays pretend bartender, getting your now-husband behind the tablecloth-covered folding table and pouring heavy drinks and somehow heavier shots. By sundown, everyone was liquored up enough to cheer for you both to have a first dance, chanting their request over and over.
Joel looks at you from his spot next to you, eyebrows raising in question. His hand at your back draws you closer, starting to sway to whatever song is playing as he grins with a looseness to him, relieved to have you as his for good and relaxed from the alcohol in his blood. “C’mon, Mari baby, I wanna dance with you. M’wife. I got the perfect song.”
“Okay, okay, you go tell Chris what song you want and see if he’s got it on his iPod.”
You push Joel along, giggling to yourself as he shuffles over to Chris, the makeshift DJ for the evening. Joel leans in, talking in your brother’s ear over the music currently playing. They exchange a smile and nod, Joel laying a hand on his shoulder and shaking it affectionately. His beer gets abandoned on the nearest surface, giddily running over to you and taking your hand. Impatiently, he pulls you to the center of the dance floor, and Tommy intercepts your drink before it sloshes all over the front of you, huffing out a disbelieving breath as you continue to drag behind Joel.
Your husband turns you in his arms, one hand finding your back as the other lifts your joined ones toward his shoulder, elbows bent. Everyone else clears the dancefloor as an upbeat guitar riff sounds out of the speakers surrounding the dancefloor, the bright drums kicking in as Joel starts to shuffle the two of you around the dancefloor, a swing to your movements again.
The familiar lyrics of Orleans’ Still the One that Joel has sung to you many times over the last year are recited right back to you, making you reminisce about the time you were driving in the car to pick up Sarah from camp, a rare afternoon that both of you had off together. The song had come onto Joel’s favorite classic rock station, perking him up in his seat as he turned the volume dial up.
“Oh, Mari baby, this is such a great song.”
Not as familiar with it, you listen, giggling as he sings along with his words pointed at you, and you had to admit, they were pretty sickly sweet. Ever since then, Joel got into the habit of singing it to you, learning to play it after he received his new guitar from you at Christmas.
Dancing with him now, under the sticky heat of the tail end of Texan summer, surrounded by family and friends, he makes you feel as if it’s only the two of you again like it was for every other moment before with this same song.
In your ear, he sings along only for you, pulling away and twirling you as y’all take over the entire dancefloor with how free and loose you’re playing it. “You’re still the one that makes me laugh…still the one that’s my better half…we’re still havin’ fun and you’re still the one.”
At the next chorus, you join him in singing along, laughing at his excitement, both of you singing along louder. The song reaches the guitar solo, and Joel takes both of your hands, swinging you out from his chest before pulling you back in; he spins you to cross your arms in front of you, and your back to his chest before twirling you out. On the last line, when the final word is dragged out, he wraps his arms around you, spinning both of you around until the final chord strikes, setting you down and chests heaving to catch your breaths. Wide smiles still find your open mouths, cheers and whistles from the guests gathered around the dancefloor, now filling the checkered floor as the next song plays.
Breathless, Joel grins madly, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly before asking, “Think we did pretty damn good for unplanned, don’t you, Miller?”
“Damn right, we did, Miller.”
The rest of the evening was all the same, a night spent with your closest family and friends all celebrating the two of you and your love. Both you and Joel shared a dance with Sarah separately, relishing in her unbridled joy and Joel comforted his daughter when she shed a few tears about how happy she was. Your dad pulled you for a short jaunt around the dancefloor, and Joel asked your mom for a dance, which she accepted happily as a stand-in for his mom.
More drinks flowed into glasses and out of bottles, your shoes kicked off and Joel’s jacket and tie discarded onto the back of a chair somewhere. Your cheeks ached from how much you were smiling and laughing the whole time, a weight lifted, the promise of forever with your favorite person now on its way to being a reality.
You both ceremoniously cut the small single-tiered cake that your mom ordered, serving the slice on a plate. Grabbing a piece with your hands, you cheers it with Joel’s, watching as his went into his mouth and laughing as yours went across his cheek. He feigned shock, shaking his head as he looked at you with a glint of mischief in his eyes, taking a step closer. A turn on the ball of your foot directs you in an attempt to get away; failing miserably, misstepping from your level of drunkenness, Joel catches you in his arms. Turning you back around to face him, he steals a purposefully sloppy kiss, buttercream smearing against your lips and chin, the taste of vanilla coating your tongue as it melts into the taste of Joel, whiskey, beer, and sugary sweetness from the dessert.
At the very end of the night, most guests in cabs home or retreat to their homes down the street, it’s left to your closest people. The last song of the night is announced by Chris, the same song that has come up again and again for the two of you trilling over the speakers. Everyone dances and sings along to American Pie, the perfect cyclical moment for the two of you, and the closing moment of your summer. Sarah dances with the two of you, laughing as Joel twirls her around, infectious smiles on their faces.
Your heart grows in your chest, nearly to the point of bursting as you take a step back in your mind, taking in all of the moment as it surrounds you. In the backyard of your new house, the next chapter of your life starts with Joel and Sarah; right next door is your childhood home, full of love and memories with your parents and brother. Even through the hardships, these places and people have never stopped feeling like home.
The song finishes with a flourish, Joel tucking you into his chest after he scoops Sarah into his arms with a soft groan. Sarah lays her head on her dad drowsily and he presses a kiss to her forehead, mirroring the same on yours; a mumble against your skin is barely heard by you, his drawl exaggerated by the liquor, “Mi Mariposa y mariposita. My lil’ Bug. Love my girls so much.”
Tommy slides sleepy Sarah into his arms from Joel after you two say goodnight to her, the younger Miller brother already prepared the arrangement for her to stay at his on the night of your wedding. You reassure her the promise to meet at Waffle House in the morning, which will likely be the afternoon with the state of the adults. Maria, the designated driver, and Tommy, much closer to sober than drunk than you were expecting, send another congratulations your way before they’re off to the car with Sarah.
After the necessary sweep of cleaning is done between you two and your immediate family, food, drink, and lanterns gathered, they part ways, taking everything back to theirs to deal with in the morning along with striking down the tables, chairs, and dancefloor. In the quiet of the early morning hours, you and Joel stand with your arms around each other, swaying gently. Cheek to chest, Joel’s voice rasps from overuse, vibrating your ear pressed against him, “Was it what you wanted, sweet girl?”
“Everything and more, J. I loved it,” you say as you pull your head away, tilting your chin to look into his eyes, “And I love you, m’husband.”
“I love you more, m’wife.” He shakes his head, biting a smile back, “Don’t think m’ever gonna get tired of callin’ you that, Mari.”
“Me neither. Gonna be callin’ you my husband instead of usin’ your name,” you flirt as your smirk grows and he wiggles his eyebrows, hand drifting down to the curve of your ass.
“Guess we better test that theory, baby.” He grins as he bends his knees, lifting you over his shoulder. His other hand rests on your ass to balance you, your hands pressing against his lower back as you shriek slightly from the initial shock. “Want the whole neighborhood to know m’your husband now. Even if they weren’t invited, so you better be loud, m’gorgeous wife.”
He walks you both up the stairs and through the backdoor, your snort echoing in the quiet of the night, pulling out the ol’ faithful from the early days with him, “Yes, sir.”
second nature
“What do you think about getting a dog?” you ask from your seat on the bed, propped up against the headboard with a book in your lap. Joel pops his head out from the en-suite, brow quirked as he continues to towel off his hair and laugh softly.
“Can’t say I’ve thought about it, darlin’.” He disappears again, hanging his towel on the back of the door before coming back out of the bathroom with a clean pair of boxers on, washed up from his long day on-site. “Have you been thinking about getting a dog?”
A sheepish grin stretches across your face, shrugging your shoulders as Joel gets into bed. He matches your position, leaning back against the headboard and turning his head toward you. He’s intrigued. If he wasn’t, he’d tell you that you could talk about it more in the morning, and then he would give you his honest opinion in the light of day. Never wanting to start a silly argument before bed, always attempting to keep the peace.
Which made him great at compromising. To what you wanted in the first place.
“I’ve been thinking it would be nice for Sarah. Like something to learn responsibility — teaching her to feed it on schedule and take it for walks and fill the water bowl.”
“Yeah, it’ll teach her that I’ll take on all those responsibilities when she gets bored of it,” your husband snorts at his own comment, making you roll your eyes playfully and scoot closer.
“Oh, c’mon, J. Don’t you think it would be fun to have a dog around? We wouldn’t even need to get a puppy if you think it’s too much. But I work at home nannying baby Amelia so I’d be around all day and then when Sarah gets home from school or camp, she can take him or her for a walk. And then feed it before you even get home. Oh! Or you could take the dog to work with you! How cute would that be, you could train him to grab your tools for you.”
A contagious smile brightens your face in the low lamplight, one that Joel can’t help but mirror on his own face. The eagerness is evident in your expression and your voice, and the proposition doesn’t seem like it would be too difficult of an adjustment. Shaking his head at your suggestions, he laughs quietly while reaching a hair up to smooth your hair away from your face.
“Are you gonna be the one to teach it what all the different screwdrivers are?”
An excited gasp exhales and you scramble to straddle Joel’s lap, “Wait, are you serious? You’re actually okay with getting a dog?”
Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you lean back to look at his face. His hands find the curve where your thighs melt into your ass, squeezing gently. Always handsy.
“Yeah, baby, we can get a dog.” Joel groans dramatically when you pull yourself tight against him, hugging him while on hand rubs back and forth at the base of your spine. “I’ve got some conditions though.”
Unraveling from his neck, you stay perched in his lap, nodding fervently. “Anything. Whatever you want, if it means we get a dog.”
“Oh, anything?” he teases with another squeeze of your bum, laughing when you shoot him a look.
“Not what I meant, Miller. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“Can’t help it with you, sweet girl. My mind’s always in the gutter around you.” The sentiment is punctuation with a tender kiss to your lips and one to your forehead. Calloused palms skate along your bare thighs, humming contently, “Conditions are: has to be a big dog. Don’t want one of those little white dogs or like something that’ll break if we have babies and they’re a little rough with it.”
The forethought he has for your future children warms your heart, and you agree immediately, “Deal. Didn’t want a little dog anyways. What else?”
“Gotta fence in the backyard. I don’t mind putting in a gate for us and your parents to easily go back and forth through, but I don’t want the chance of the dog gettin’ out when we’re all outside.”
“Totally understandable. I’ll even help you install the fence,” you offer proudly.
“That’s real sweet, Mari baby, thank you. You don’t gotta lift a finger though, I’ll bring some of the guys over and pay a little extra and we’ll get it done in a day, no problem.”
“Alright, so big dog, fence. Anything else you’d like to negotiate, Mr. Miller?” you mock a formal tone, turning your nose up. Joel laughs, tightening his arms around your waist and tugging you closer. Kisses press into your neck and along your jaw, pausing inches away from your lips as he makes his final request.
“Dog sleeps in Sarah’s room or downstairs. I like our privacy.” He smirks before kissing you deeply, easily flipping you onto your back and hovering above you. Your legs hook around his waist and he raises his eyebrows, “That all sound fair to you, Mariposa?”
“Absolutely it does. Guess we’re getting a dog, ri—” You’re cut off by his lips on yours again, pressing you further into the mattress with his body weight.
“Let’s save the rest of this for the morning,” Joel mumbles against your skin as he trails his mouth down your neck to your collarbone, “‘Cause right now, I think I’d rather get some pussy.”
He doubles over in laughter at his own joke, forehead pressing against your chest as his shoulders heave. Your fingers comb into his hair, unable to fight quiet chuckles of your own no matter how hard you try to not give him the satisfaction.
“God, you’re such a dork.”
The clock rolls to 3pm as you sit in your car, lined up along with parents of campers. Shrills of laughter and screams echo from the bright, primary-colored playground across the way, counselors attempting to corral the kids to lead them out for pick-up. Air conditioning blasts on you as you fan at the back of your neck, exhaling in the sweltering Texan heat. It’s only the beginning of summer, June barely having turned over, but the temperatures have reached record highs for the year already.
Your stepdaughter. The thought still makes you smile months on, the dynamic between the two of you falling naturally into a closer, more nurturing relationship. Little acknowledgments from Sarah have made your heart sing over the days; routinely saying goodnight to you along with Joel, asking you for permission to go play outside, seeking you out nearly as much as Joel when she has had a nightmare. The pair of you have built routines of your own before bed, you making a promise to Sarah to read with her and to show her your favorite books from when you were her age.
A few nights ago, Sarah had retreated with you to her room, at least thirty minutes before her bedtime to get in another chapter of Matilda by Roald Dahl. The main character reminded you of Sarah’s sweet and spunky personality, and you were so excited that she fell in love with the story and its characters as quickly as you did when you read it for the first time.
Sat up against her headboard, Sarah laid back in your arms and cracked open the novel where her bookmark stuck out, started to read aloud to you in the low lamplight. Mindlessly, you played with her hair as you listened to her confidently recite the words from the page. The day caught up to you, the peaceful moment pulled a yawn from your lungs. Sarah’s words slowed down, her eyes slowly blinking until they closed, which was your queue to slip the book from her hands and mark the spot, and laid it on her nightstand.
When you tried to slip out from behind her to leave her to sleep soundly, she stirred, mumbling the sweetest, “Will you stay for a little bit, Posey?”
And you had no choice but to oblige her request. After getting comfortable next to her, Sarah curled into your side and you pressed a kiss to her forehead, continued to play with her hair to soothe her back to sleep.
What you hadn’t realized was that you also drifted off in her twin bed with her, the lamp still on. Joel was watching TV downstairs, waiting for you to retreat down the steps as you do every night, but no sign of you after an hour had him standing up to go searching. It was quiet when he reached the top of the stairs, no telling giggles or loud whispers to give the two of you away.
He pushed open the cracked door of Sarah’s bedroom, and was met with a sight that squeezed his heart tight, a sigh exhaled from his lungs. You tucked right next to his little one, and both slept deeply. Without disturbing your rest, he tiptoed over to the nightstand, tugged the blanket up over both of you before he hovered above the bed to press a gentle kiss to each of your foreheads.
Lamp clicked off, he whispered to your unconscious ears, “G’night, girls. Love you two.”
It was a few hours before your usual alarm when you’d woken up, sore from the small space and glanced around the dark room to discover you had fallen asleep next to Sarah. Carefully slipped out from the covers, you tucked her back in and padded down the hall to your bedroom where Joel was sleeping, a soft snore came from him as he’d starfished out on the mattress. You gently shook him half awake to move him, and he groaned softly at the disruption before he tugged you into his chest and pressed a drowsy kiss to your shoulder.
“Was jus’ too cute to wake you up, Mari baby. My Mariposa and my lil’ Bug…” He hummed sleepily into your skin, hand gently rubbed circles in your lower belly while your eyes close, desperate for those last few hours of slumber. “Makes me so happy.”
“Me too, J. M’so, so happy she’s that comfortable with me. My baby best friend. And you’re my big baby best friend…” You breathed out an airy giggle and Joel protested weakly behind you, a gentle pinch to your side before you both exchanged a quick “love you” and drifted right back off.
The reminder of the sweet moment in the morning from Joel was the highlight of your week.
Climbing out of the car, the engine running and door open, you round the front bumper and stand on the curb to wait. You find her before she finds you, calling out to her to grab her attention, “Hey, sweet pea!”
Her familiar deep brown irises search for the source of your voice, landing on your face and waving excitedly. Sarah checks out with her counselor for the day, scurrying over to you with her backpack bouncing at her shoulders.
“Hi, Posey!”
She collides with your torso, her growth spurts finally starting over the last few months so the top of her head hits just at your chest, and nearly knocks the wind out of you. Patting her back, you laugh and pull her back to look her in the face, “Well, hello to you too, Sare Bear. How was camp today? You ready to go?”
After your greetings, she climbs into the backseat on the opposite side of Amelia’s car seat. You store her bag in the passenger seat with yours before retreating around to the driver’s side, heading off once both of you are secured in your seatbelts.
Flicking your eyes up in the rearview mirror, the two of you catch up, which mostly consists of her recapping the camp activities and excitedly talking about the pool day that’s planned for Friday. As you turn onto your street, Sarah’s brow furrows at the sight of Joel’s truck in the driveway.
“Dad’s home already? That’s weird.”
“Hm, I guess he is. Or maybe he’s just stopped by to grab something he forgot. You know how he is.”
Sarah laughs in agreement as you park your car next to his truck. Both of you get out and head in through the garage, straight into the kitchen where Joel’s standing at the counter eating a sandwich.
“Told you, Sare, stopped by ‘cause he forgot something. Lunch.” You send him a teasing grin as you deposit Sarah’s bag by the door and kick off your sandals. She does the same before wandering past her dad to the fridge in search of a snack. Apple doesn’t fall far.
“What? I can’t happen to drop in hoping to see my wife and my daughter in the middle of my work day? Do I have to have ulterior motives?” Joel speaks, words muffling around the bite in his mouth as you approach the island to stand opposite him.
“Dad, you literally always ask ‘What’s for dinner?’ or ‘What’s cookin’?’ after you say hi to us every day. Your motivation is always to get some food,” Sarah chimes in from in front of the fridge, laughing when Joel looks at her offended.
“See? Even a ten year old recognizes the pattern of behavior,” you confirm your findings, laughing as Joel grumbles to himself and pops the last bite of his sandwich in his mouth.
“Well, for your information, both of you, I am here for an entirely different reason than lunch and to see you two.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest, looking between the two of you with a mischievous smile on his face. “Why don’t y’all go look in the living room and then tell me if you wanna keep makin’ fun of Dad?”
Sarah excitedly starts off toward the living room, giddy about the surprise awaiting her. Your brow furrows and lips twist up in curiosity, eyes staying glued to Joel. He laughs and nods to the other room, a bright smile on his face.
“Better go see, mi amor. Think you’ll want to meet him.” Joel winks, your attention being pulled away when you both hear Sarah gasp from the living room.
“Oh my gosh! Posey, come here! Aw!”
That’s when it registers — the surprise, home in the middle of the day, the smirk, ‘you’ll want to meet him’.
“You didn’t,” you breathe out, head snapping back to Joel as he gives you a wide, genuine grin.
“Go! See for yourself.” He rounds the island and grabs your hips from behind, guiding your steps into the living room. Sarah’s giggles fill the room as the fluffy Bernese Mountain puppy stands in her lap and licks at her face. The small dog’s attention is pulled from her and over to you and Joel entering the room, a tiny bark sounding before he scampers over.
“Joel, oh my god, how did you—when—oh my god…” You kneel down to scoop up the little one into your arms and cuddle it gently, giving it pets before letting him run around again.
“Found someone who had a litter with their family dogs the day after we talked about it. And arranged to pick him up. They said he’s the energetic one, and that he’s gonna be a big boy. Like a hundred pounds.”
“Oh my god, he’s so sweet…thank you, J.” You beam up at him, waving him to bend down and steal a kiss, squeezing his shoulder.
Sarah’s playing with your new family dog, tugging with a rope toy as he fights back with his whole little body. “Thank you, Dad. He’s so cute!”
“What should we name him?” Joel asks as he lowers himself to the floor next to you, smiling as the puppy runs over. The two rough house, Joel easily flipping him over to scratch at his belly as the dog pants happily.
“Any ideas, Sare?” you ask, looking over at her.
She thinks for a moment before looking up between Joel and you, laughing at the tiny pup’s antics, “What about Goose? He just seems like one. Like a silly goose.”
“Goose? I like it, Bug,” Joel confirms, turning to you with a grin, “How about you, Mari?”
Nodding, you look at the new addition to the family, burning bright with happiness at your people’s excitement, “I think Goose is a perfect fit. And now you’re not outnumbered anymore, J. Two girls and two boys in the Miller household.”
Sarah laughs and lays down to cuddle with Goose while Joel moves closer to your side, wrapping an arm around you and kissing your head as he quietly whispers, “Hopefully won’t be too long before the boys are outnumbered again.”
“And what makes you say it won’t be us girls being outnumbered?”
“Call it father’s intuition. Wouldn’t know what to do with a little boy, bein’ a dad to another girl would just be second nature. Plus, I would want a mini Mari running around the world.” Joel presses a kiss to your temple before you turn your head, catching his pursed lips with yours sweetly.
“I’d take anything if it means havin’ a little piece of you forever, J.”
third time lucky
Negative.
A single line, bold and brash, stares back at you. Turning the plastic in your hands, you attempt to read it at different angles, the smallest bit of hope lingering for another line to appear — that it was a trick of the light that was causing your disappointment.
To no avail, the blue strip remains unaccompanied in the small window. A sinking feeling fills your body from your toes up. Everything feels heavier, except your lower stomach. That has never felt as empty as it is now.
Heavy footsteps thump a vibration in the floors, but your focus remains on a speck of dust floating in the light past your field of vision. His presence hangs in the bedroom, milling about, unknowing of what you were up to before he came in from mowing the lawn.
“Hey, baby, m’gonna take a shower and then we’ve got Sarah’s softball game at three. Probably half to leave here around two, her coach asked all the parents to be thirty minutes early for some reason…” Joel’s voice fades in your head as your thoughts start to yell, scream, fight, taunt inside of your mind.
A hard swallow pops your ears, the ringing in them growing louder as your mind begins to wander. The test is left discarded on the bathroom counter, with no heart yet to throw it in the garbage where the others have ended up. Your bare feet shuffle against the rug as you seek out solace under covers, even in the ninety-plus-degree heat. The springs of the mattress shift under your weight, lying on your side facing the opposite side of the bed that lays empty right now. The coverlet is pulled up over you, curling your fingers at the hem tightly, white knuckle grip to release some of the tension that has taken over your mind. You want to scream, cry, yell, question — but what you want most of all is to be able.
Why aren’t you able? Why can’t you do what your body is made to do, what it begs for, what it reminds you that you’ve failed at every month?
Joel stands in observation of you, careful distance, one hand lifting before he drops it. He can guess what this is about. What you’ve left behind in the en-suite. But to confirm his suspicions, he quietly walks into the tiled room, leaving his clean clothes on the counter while he picks up the test.
Negative.
His body sinks, toes up to his head, but with a gaping, empty feeling in his chest. There’s so much room left in his heart, room he is eager to fill with another part of you, another love, another soul to protect. Now, though, all of his emptiness is filled with an ache for you. You’ve been dreaming out loud for a year now, wonderings and visions shared with him late nights and early mornings — Will they have his eyes? You hope so, so that they look like their sister. Who’s ears would they have? What quirks will they pick up from both of you? Who will they grow up to be? How will we be able to contain our love for both of our kids?
Our kids. Joel remembers that night; after you said that, he couldn’t hold himself back, couldn’t contain his love for you. No hesitation that his own was yours now, too. All he wanted was to give you another, to see your belly grow and your smile brighten and your skin glow. He was begging for whatever power was in the universe for that time to take, for both of you to be gifted with what you wished for so often, so deeply.
Desperation. Wavering confidence. Sorrow, worry, dwindling hope. He saw it all over you, time after time when the single line appeared on the plastic sticks.
You and Joel had been trying for a year. A long year. Maybe your desire was too strong, too overpowering. But shouldn’t that be a sign of your love? For each other, for your family? All he wants to do is give you the life you’ve wished for. And yes, all you’ve said you want is a life with him, but anyone who meets you would be able to tell you are meant for a nurturing life. Meant for motherhood.
It was already natural for you, taking a ten-year-old in stride, making her into your best friend — making her a priority over Joel most of the time. He knew it didn’t matter to you that she wasn’t yours, biologically speaking, but he can’t help but want to give you a child that is part you. How badly he wants another piece of you in the world, all of your goodness packaged into the purest soul.
Resigning with a sigh, he sets the test down on the cool countertop and exits the bathroom, a slow stride over to your lying form. Crumpled under covers. With a soft groan, he lowers himself to his knees with cracks popping his joints. His age is starting to show the closer he gets to forty and the more hours he works in the summer weather, another looming factor for him — he’s only known being a young dad. If you two have to wait, what would it be like to be nearly sixty when your kid graduates high school?
Shaking the superficial concerns from his head, his wide palm glides along the quilted fabric draped over your side. He rests his chin on his opposite arm, laying against the mattress close to your pillow. At the coax of his touch, you turn over to face him. Lips pursed in a frown, dried watery streaks being washed anew with your fresh tears, fat and rolling down your cheeks and over the bridge of your nose. They drip off of your skin, dotting and darkening the fabric of the pillowcase underneath you.
Joel leans in, brushing your hair from your face and pressing his lips to your forehead for a lingering kiss. A deep breath draws the smell of your shampoo into his nose, down deep into his lungs where it soothes his aching chest.
“Mari, sweet girl, I know it’s hard. I know we want it so bad, but there’s always another option,” he speaks softly, kindly, delicately, “We can go to that fertility specialist your doctor recommended. I promise, mi amor, we’ll have a baby together.”
He means it, and you can tell he means it. Ever since you had been back together, ever since he confessed his feelings for you — years ago now — he hasn’t made an empty promise. From tiny little things like a pledge to stop on the way home for your favorite ice cream, going to three different stores and adding nearly an hour to his day simply to show up with it for you, to larger, grander oaths, his wedding vows, the promise of building a beautiful life with you.
Emotion is thick in your throat as you attempt to vocalize your concerns. They keep you up at night, with Joel’s warm and expansive hand resting on your stomach right above your womb as he sleeps soundly. He wants it clearly as much as you do; you can feel it each time you’ve tried. How badly he wants to provide this for you.
Is he having the same thoughts as you? Does he wonder if something’s ‘wrong’ with you?
“I wanna be able to do it. Why can’t I do it on my own?” The sound of your meek voice shatters his heart and he shakes his head back and forth, adamant in shutting down the thoughts.
Tugging the covers down, Joel’s hands find your exposed skin, sliding across with a clammy touch from his labor outside. And nerves, too, you’d guess. Moving from his knees on the floor next to the bed, he finds a spot sitting at your side and shifts you to lay on your back. Opening up to him. Warmth rests over your womb, blanket pulled down to the tops of your thighs while his thumb brushes at your stomach, catching on the fabric of your shirt.
“No—oh, mi Mariposa, you don’t even know if it would be you with an issue. Very well could be me. Maybe breathin’ all the paint fumes at work killed m’little swimmers.” He breathes a small laugh through his nose, attempting to lighten the mood.
Your hands fly up to your face, muffling your voice, “Oh, god, don’t say that. I wanna have your baby, not some sperm donors.”
His hand coasts up your torso, over to your side to wrap around your rib cage, feeling your breaths as his fingertips lightly tickle the spot, “That was supposed to make you laugh, sweet girl.”
Hands falling away from your face, your brow pinches together and your frown deepens. About to make a retort, your mouth open, Joel skates the fingertips of both his hands up and down your sides, alternated on each side of you to make it harder to catch his wrists. Laughter bubbles up from your chest, your frown morphing into a flashing smile before you’re calling for a surrender in between gasping breaths.
Relenting, his hands stop, settling at the curve of your waist. He leans over you, nudging his nose against yours before pressing a ghosting kiss to your lips. A small grin, hopeful and reassuring, with a tinge of worry flickering in his irises, barely there before his smile reaches his eyes, “It’ll happen for us, Mari baby. Why don’t we say, one last go before lookin’ into the doctors? We’ll do all the things, track whatever we need to track. I’ll drop whatever I need to come home and put a baby in you.”
Joel wiggles his eyebrows, playful smirk crossing his expression. You roll your eyes under him, pushing an accusing finger into his chest, “Like you don’t already do that. I could call you in the middle of work and just go ‘Hey, J’ and you’re in the truck on your way home.”
“That’s right, Mari. As it should be. Y’know what they say — happy wife, happy life.” Another kiss to your lips, this one a bit more savoring. “What d’ya say, mi amor? One more go?”
“Okay, yeah. One more go.”
Butterflies kick up in your stomach when you hear the low rumble of Joel’s truck cut, heavy door swinging closed and quick strides following. The front door opens after a short jingle of keys, shutting behind him with the slide of the lock back into place. Distant grumbles of his make you laugh, his frustrations with his work boots floating upstairs to where you’re sitting on the edge of your bed, leaning back on your hands. Clad in only your bra and panties, you work your bottom lip between your teeth as anticipation builds with each of Joel’s footsteps up the carpeted stairs.
You both only have the afternoon — less than an hour of your afternoon, actually — to make your last attempt. Already having taken advantage of the window in your cycle twice, the peak day of your ovulation fell, of course, during the busiest time of year for Miller Construction. Summer has come to a close, and now people have picked up their home improvements to start nesting for the winter; a craving you’ve been having yourself, desperate to make your home larger and livelier by one more. Joel has snuck away for a moment that you two have alone, and you’ve told the couple you nanny for that you have an immovable appointment for today.
Pretty sure the only thing that will be immovable today will be you once Joel’s hour is up.
“Mari? Mi amor?” he calls out and you chuckle softly at the boyish excitement in his voice.
“In the bedroom, J!”
Joel rounds the doorway into your shared room, stopping a handful of steps past the threshold when he registers the sight of you. He hums a low moan, licking his lips as his eyes devour your lacy undergarments, “Mierda, mi esposa, estás tratando de matarme? (Shit, my wife, are you trying to kill me?) You look so fucking beautiful, darlin’.”
A low whistle leaves his lips as he stalks closer, eyes rake over your form as you present your primped self for his taking.
“You get all pretty for me, sweet girl? I like this…” he rasps as he’s within arm’s reach now, stretching a hand out to toy with the strap of your bra and snapping it against your skin sharply.
“Wanted to look pretty when you fill me up, J.” One curl of his finger under your chin draws you to sit up straight, tilting your head back to look at Joel towering over you.
“Good girl,” he praises, a glint of excitement in his eyes, “You want me to fill up your sweet little cunt, Mariposa? Want me to give you a baby? Tell me.”
“Yes,” you breathe out shakily, eyelids fluttering closed as his hands trail lightly across your exposed skin, ghosting everywhere you need him most.
“More, sweetheart. Dime. Dime cuánto lo deseas. Suplicar por ello. (Tell me. Tell me how badly you want it. Beg for it.)” His instructions float through your head, only keywords translating in while Joel leaves over you, lips pressing feather-light kisses along your neck, across your chest.
“I need it, Joel. Need you so fucking bad, I wanna have your baby. Want you to make me a mom, fill me up as many times as it takes until we get our baby…please, J…” As if the taste of you wasn’t enough to do him in, the wild, fervent look in your eyes intrigues him beyond. Hearing the words from your lips, directed to him, he’s fucking aching. He was growing hard on his way over here, the thoughts swimming through his mind of you laid out and ready for him to take delegating his blood supply to rush down below his belt.
He needs you, but first, he needs to see you unraveling underneath him only from his fingers.
“Don’t worry your pretty little mind, Mari. M’gonna take care of you. I’ll make sure this one takes. Let’s call it third time lucky this summer.”
He shoots you a wink, your mouth parting to respond. Before you can let any breath escape, his lips are crashing with yours. Heavy, heady, and so fucking hot it spirals your thoughts into nothing. His tongue melts with yours, the taste of his black coffee and the donut he must have eaten at work this morning tingling your taste buds. Sweat sticks to his skin when your hands rest at the sides of his neck, falling backwards as he climbs over you. He smells of wood shavings, freshly mowed grass, and hard work — calloused hands gliding along your body and feeling the softest of scratches of his blue collar hands.
“Joel, need you — please.” It’s more of a whine than a begging whimper, rising frustration levels from his lack of touch in the place you need and want him the most.
Your cunt is desperate, dripping down your folds and surely soaking the sheets. A quick jerk of your hips attempts to brush against him, to catch any relief for the need building low in your stomach. A large palm presses your lower half back against the mattress, the other hand pushing your leg to the side to open you up further for him. A knuckle brushes your clit, grazing up and down your seam through your soaked panties. Your husband clicks his tongue as he shakes his head at you, patronizing tone slick in his voice.
“Darlin’, I wanna take every second of my time with you. Are you gonna let me? Gonna let me get your cunt squeezing my fingers? Gonna let me fill you up, mi amor?” he asks, as if you wouldn’t say yes to all of those requests and he knows it. Nodding, a desperate yes exhaled when he applies more pressure with his finger against your clit, rubbing slow circles. “Good girl. Siempre tan bueno para mí. (Always so good for me.)”
Joel folds over your, taking one of your perked nipples into his mouth through your bra and sucking. His tongue flattens against the cup before he’s pulling at the nub with his teeth. The material is darkened where his mouth was when he grows a bit more needy, grabbing at the straps and yanking the bra to rest at your midsection. You slip your arms out of the straps and he pushes you further onto the bed by the back of your thighs, stripping your panties off and settling on his knees.
Pressure forms against your clit from two of his fingers, slow circles dragging a moan from your throat. Joel smirks, satisfied with the way you squirm under him, trying and failing to get more from his hands. Before you can vocalize a whine, Joel is over you again, bringing his attention to your now bare breast while the circles continue. Hot, humid kisses are littered on the soft skin, happy hums rolling from Joel’s chest. He pulls his head up, looking down at your chest with a half grin and his dimple on display.
“You’re gonna get so soft and swollen everywhere, Mariposa. Round belly, huge tits—can’t wait to play with ‘em.” His grin widens, boyish and brazen with the glee that the fact fills him with. “You gonna let me, baby? Gonna let me make your sore tits feel better with my mouth?”
His question goes unanswered as his mouth attaches to one of your nipples, sucking and flattening his tongue as he nurses it. Pulling away with a pop, he mimics the same on the other side, the intensity of his suckling along with his fingers rubbing faster against your clit — even slipping down to tease at your entrance — has you wiggling under him, desperation notching up your spine.
“Joel, please,” you plead, choking on your breath when he pulls the bud of your breast between his teeth, a low growling sound rumbling from his throat.
Two of his thick fingers push into your dripping cunt, a relieved moan echoing against the walls of the bedroom. Curling up into your spongy walls, they thrust quickly and pet at the certain spot inside of you. Joel’s mouth is still at your chest, his hunger feeding itself on the taste of your skin.
“Fuck, Mari, gonna break my fucking fingers off. So fucking tight.”
A distraught whimper crawls from your chest, breaths heaving as your walls clench around his quick-paced fingers. You gasp when he slips a third one in, hooking them up. Despite the stretch, you still feel an emptiness. All you want is his cock inside of you, spilling into you and leaving you to grow fuller with his baby. The thoughts of him above you, fucking it all deeper into you to reach your womb, drive you over the edge. The tips of his fingers press against that spot inside of you, his warm mouth hanging open at your tit while his eyes watch you come undone. Writhing and walls pulsing around his fingers, his name falls from your mouth as you choke out moans and your vision grows dark.
“That’s it, Mari baby, fuck,” Joel works you through the orgasm before his fingers leave you and he sits back on his haunches. Sucking his digits clean of your slick and come, the other hand rubs your thigh gently before he coos down at you, “That was a big one, wasn’t it? Feel good?”
Still coming down from it all, your body feels liquidity, taking whatever form Joel is molding you into right now after he’s stripped himself bare. One hand slips under you, unclasping your bra and tugging it away from your torso, leaving you as naked as him. His eyes drink in your body while his grip holds your calves, chuckling darkly when you finally breathe out a response, “I feel…like I need you to put a baby in me.”
“Cualquier cosa para usted, mi esposa. Vas a estar tan lleno de mí. Te encanta la sensación de mi mecos dentro de ti, ¿verdad? (Anything for you, my wife. You're going to be so full of me. You love the feeling of my cum inside of you, don't you?)” Your head rolls with a nod, agreeing to anything Joel says in the moment, still hazy from how hard he’d made you come moments ago. Half-lidded eyes watch as he licks his fingers, stroking his cock a few times with a quiet sigh. That’s something you could watch all day — Joel’s pleasure. And here underneath him, you have the perfect view, and the perfect position to be used for it.
Fully handing over control to him, his hands tug you up so your ass sits on his thighs while he’s on his knees. Fingertips skate along the distance of your legs, grabbing at your calves to rest them on his broad shoulders. Even the slightest shift forward from his hips stretches you wide, a delicious ache creating a craving for more.
“Tell me how bad you want it, Mari, tell me how much you wanna have my baby.”
Joel’s gripping his length, rubbing his tip through your wet folds. The notches against your clit quiver the already stretched muscles in your thighs, whines replacing words coming out of your mouth.
“Tell me, or I won’t give you what you want, mi amor.”
“I want it so bad, J. I wanna feel you fuck me so full of you, and I don’t want that feeling to leave. I feel like there’s an emptiness and only you can fill it, I want your baby. Wanna have everyone know how good I am for you, carrying your baby like you want me to. I wanna have a part of you forever,” you gasp out the last word, Joel’s cock inching into you. Muscle memory takes over, your whole body relaxing with the knowledge that he’ll take care of you — he’ll always take care of you.
Joel bottoms out easily, filling you to the hilt before he pauses to take a breath. His eyes meet yours and he smiles, sweet and sincere, while holding your shins, “I fucking love you, mi Mariposa. Wanna give you a baby…”
“Pleasepleaseplease—” You don’t know if you’re begging more for him to give you what you want or to move his hips, but in the end, you get both.
Joel starts out slow, shallow thrusts keeping him inside of you. Grunts from the controlled movements fill the room, your small whimpers following each noise he makes. The sound of him fucking into your cunt captures his attention, gaze zeroed in on where you two meet. Watching the stretch of your tight pussy around his cock, he feels the burning desire for more. To watch you take it deeper, harder.
The next snap of his hips is just that - smacking his skin against your ass before he adjusts, laying you back completely on the mattress and leaning over you. Your legs are still hooked over his shoulders, the burning of your muscles now straining your hamstrings and glutes. His entire body folds you, his head hovering over yours as he fucks into you further. The tip of his cock kisses your womb, the force of his thrusts driving your hips open more for him.
“Gonna — fuck — gonna make you a momma, Mariposa. That what you want? Get fucked so well, be so full of me that we make a baby? Everybody’s gonna know I treat my wife right. With your round belly…swollen—ah—swollen tits. Gonna be so beautiful, and so fucking sensitive everywhere.”
His words only add onto the feeling of his thick cock filling you up, nearly verging on too far and too much. Moans exhale on your lips, his name repeated like a chant with each harsh snap of him into you. Your hands scramble for purchase as his sheer power drives you up the mattress, sheets scratching against your bare back. One set of fingers dig into the meaty flesh of his shoulder, nails pressing crescent shapes like an iron-hot branding.
Above you, Joel studies how your mouth has fallen open, thoughts completely left your mind with how cockdrunk you are. He gingerly grips your chin, holding it to face him and commanding your eyes to his as he pants heavily.
“What d’you wanna make me, baby?” It’s only met with the sounds of his cock dragging in and out of you, the slap of skin as you gasp under him. “C’mon, Mari baby, use your words.”
“A daddy,” you breathe out, your opposite hand combing into his messy curls and gripping tight.
“Say it again. Dime.” Not thinking it was possible, Joel pushes you further, hitting into you harder with each thrust nudging his tip toward your cervix. You might only leave this afternoon with soreness, but you continued to hold out hope for a baby to be the well-worth prize for how you’re going to feel tomorrow.
“A daddy!”
“Dime. Dime. Dime,” he commands and you listen, writhing under him as he hacks away at your shared resolve, throwing you closer and closer to the edge.
“Daddy — oh, fuck, a daddy. Wanna make you a daddy!” You’re yelling at this point, sobs of pleasure wracking your body and you thank god for a split second that the two of you are home alone in the middle of the work day. Surely the whole block might be hearing all of your wanton sounds.
“God, I could get used to you calling me that, Mari baby,” Joel groans and throws his head back, bearing his teeth as he punches his hips into your clenching pussy, the telltale sign that you’re close.
“C’mon, mi amor, give it to me. Come for me and I’ll let your fucking pussy milk me for every last drop. That’s what you want, right? Gotta fill you up and make a baby for my Mari baby.” He’s rambling as you reach your peak, toes curling and coming even harder than your first one this afternoon.
A near scream pulls itself from as deep as your gut, the sound as if you were in more pain than the absolute pleasure you feel. Your grip on his hair tightens, drawing him down for a messy kiss as you mumble against his lips.
“Please gimme a baby, J. Need it all inside of me, please. Come for me, mi esposo.”
The name sends goosebumps across his shoulders and trickles down his spine before he’s barking your name once and spilling into you, painting your walls with each rope. He takes a moment to breathe before he gently presses his hips in a few short thrusts, fucking his spend as far into you as possible.
Joel collapses against your torso, no other efforts exerted to move away. Delicate, nimble touches brush the hair from his sweaty forehead, rubbing his shoulders as he hums contently.
“Fuck, baby, might just have to stay inside. Keep you plugged up so I can stay here all day with you.” Quiet, breathless laughter leaves your lips as you shake your head, tracing along his jaw before he turns his head to press his lips into your tummy.
“Can’t wait for you to be a momma. Gonna be the best one ever, y’already are. Love you so much.”
The two of you lay like that for what feels like hours, only to be reminded of Joel’s limited schedule when his cell starts ringing from downstairs. Getting up with a groan, he slips out of you and lifts your hips, stuffing a pillow or two underneath them to keep your lower half elevated. You roll your eyes at the superstitious gesture, gasping when his fingers push into you once more to put his leaking come back into where it belongs.
“Gotta make sure it takes, pretty girl. Wanna see you get all round with my baby in you. Everybody’ll know how good I am to you, huh? Pumping you full of me so much we made a new fucking life…better stay like this until I get home again, Mari baby. Wanna make sure those lil swimmers get all the help they can get.”
“Mm…” you hum, hands grabbing for him to lean over you again. Sneaking a kiss, you pull away to whisper to him with a grin on your lips, “Better get back to work…daddy.”
He snorts out a laugh, beaming a bright smile as mischief glimmers in his eyes, “Mal. Mala chica. (Bad. Bad girl.)”
Three days late. You’ve been tracking your cycle like a mad woman, ticking off days in the notebook next to your bed, and now you’re officially three days late. Joel and you had agreed to wait a few days after you expected your period, hopeful that the extra time meant a more accurate, and desired, result.
The kitchen timer sitting on Joel’s side of the bed ticks away while you side on the edge of the bed. Tapping your fingers against your thighs, bare skin against your fingertips from the high hem of your denim shorts. Joel paces the room, eyes focused a thousand yards ahead. Anxiety and anticipation had been plaguing both of you all day, work slugging by minute by minute, second by second. Joel had left the jobsite as soon as was acceptable, leaving Tommy to wrap up, and swung by the pharmacy to pick up a new box of tests. Your task for the day was to chug water, or any liquid, all afternoon — by the time Joel was one foot through the door, you were ready to burst. Snatching the bag of tests out of his hand, you ran to the bathroom to pee in a plastic disposable cup and stick at least three tests in.
Now, you two are waiting for more seconds and minutes to tick by, added to the tally of the entire day. As you’re about to stand and stop Joel from burning treads in the area rug from walking his tight circles, a trill of a bell vibrating demands your attention. Turning off the noise in a flash, you stand and cross the room to where your husband is now frozen in place. A gentle touch to his cheek, his eyelids flutter close and he takes a long exhale before opening them again.
“Ready?” you ask, uncertainty pitching your voice up.
A minute nod, one shake of his chin, Joel’s hand finds the small of your back as he responds, “Ready, mi amor.”
His hand guides you into the bathroom, and a handful of steps from the three tests laid out on the counter, you turn around, panic twisting your expression. Joel stumbles to stop his collision with you, large palms grabbing onto your biceps to catch himself.
“M’scared, J…” Your voice is meek, cracking with emotion. This is the last shot you gave yourselves, whatever is laid on the counter either means unbridled joy or a long road of poking and prodding in countless doctors’ offices.
The warmth of his hands rubbing your arms and the press of his lips to your forehead coax you to relax, to take deep breaths, “I know, Mari baby, I would be lyin’ if I said I wasn’t scared too. But no matter what is on those tests, we’re in it together, right sweet girl?”
His index finger hooks under your chin to draw your attention up to his face, a small smile filled with love and reassurance stretching his lips.
“Always in it together, J.” You take another deep breath, turning around and nodding shortly, “Okay, now m’ready.”
“That’s my girl,” he mumbles before he’s following right behind you again, the two of you pressing yourselves to each other against the counter. Joel has an iron grip on your hips, nerves manifesting in the squeezes of his hands. Shaking fingers turn over each test before picking them all up to your lines of vision.
Two lines. Two bold lines screaming at both of you, across all three tests.
Positive.
Positive. You’re pregnant. You and Joel are having a baby.
“Holy shit…” Joel exhales behind you, smile creeping into his voice. Somehow, his grip gets even tighter as he turns you around, “Holy shit! You’re pregnant, Mari. We’re havin’ a baby! You’re gonna be a momma!”
Giddiness overcomes both of you, happy and disbelieving laughter while you hold each other in a tight embrace. Joel litters kisses around your face, catching your lips last — all teeth and tight lipped from your matching grins.
“You’re gonna be a dad again, how’s that feel?”
“Like I won the damn lottery, mi amor.”
Another kiss, supple and heavy. Joel pulls away first and shakes his head, pressing his forehead to yours, “I love you so fucking much, Mari.”
“I love you too, J.”
“You ready to go, Sare?” you ask, standing next to her seat at the kitchen table where she’s working away at her homework, reaching a hand out to play with her curls. She smiles and nods, writing down one last answer to a question on her worksheet before she lays her pencil down and stands up, rushing over toward the door.
“Just gotta get my shoes on!” she calls out, and you smile, shaking your head.
“Take your time, sweet pea! God knows it’s gonna take me longer to walk over to the door.” Your joke falls on deaf ears of your husband, who stands at the kitchen island and rolls his eyes before he’s crossing the room over to you. Within arm’s length, his hands cup the bottom of your large belly, leaning in for a sweet peck.
“Nobody cares if you move slow. Better to be careful than—”
“Careless, yes, I know. I think those might be our baby’s first words since they hear them so much from their dad,” you tease and he shrugs, kissing you again while his touch wanders across the flannel of his that you’re sporting, too tired to buy more maternity clothes that you’ll grow out of and opting for his closet every morning.
“Jus’ looking out for my girls. All three of ‘em.” He beams proudly, brown eyes shining brightly before he turns you in his arms, accompanying you to the front door where your near-teenager is waiting. Ever the sweetheart she is, she’s got your purse slung on her shoulder, car keys in hand to pass off to you. You thank her quietly, turning back to Joel as he looks between the two of you.
“Alright, have fun with your girls’ day. And call if you need anything — either of you. I’ll be waitin’ here for ya.” Joel smooths down Sarah’s hair before kissing the crown of her head; she squirms away, the teenage attitude rearing its head in some early moments, especially with her dad. There’s less patience for him, which you completely understand as a teenage girl once yourself. He huffs out a sigh as she slips out the door, heading down the front path toward your car.
“Hey, s’nothing. Teenage girl things. She loves you, and you’re the best dad.” A hand on his cheek coaxes him down to your lips, a supple kiss exchanged before he pulls away and bends to kiss the top of your belly.
“Bye, my little June Bug.” He stands upright again and steals another kiss, mumbling, “And bye, mi Mariposa. Drive safe, let me know if you need anything while you’re out. I love you.”
“We love you too. And m’speaking for the moody one, too.” Joel chuckles and rubs your bump once more before sending you on your way, watching and waving from the door as y’all drive away.
The plan for today had come about when you started to notice Sarah growing quieter, retreating to her room more often after family dinners and denying the chance at movie night some days. Joel had noticed too, but was a bit nervous to broach it with her, not wanting to make her feel bad about being more independent.
Your relationship with her though was much different to Joel’s. There was the foundation of your caretaking role with her, much more of a friend with authority when it was only you two before you were anything close to a parental figure. More open and, well, you could relate more to what she was going through. She confided in you first about girls at school being catty, about her growing crushes on boys in her grade. And this year, only a month after your due date, she will officially become a teenager. It was a strange time in any girl’s life, full of growing pains.
And on top of all of that, add on a new baby arriving. Attentions drawn elsewhere, priorities shifted to preparing for the baby. Sarah never fell to the backburner in your minds, but you didn’t know how she was feeling. Guessing by her quiet actions, you could tell she was feeling left out but didn’t want to stir up trouble.
Always the sweet girl. And you knew how that was.
So, you’d asked her for a girls’ day, excluding her dad from the fun and giving both of you some time with each other to feel like it was years before. It was all about Sarah today, no mentions of baby — no buying diapers or supplies or clothes. A promise made to yourself to make Sarah feel special, because that is exactly what she was. The baby on the way may be your first biological child, but nothing can compare to the unique bond that you have with your Sare Bear.
The day was spent waddling throughout the mall, helping her pick out new outfits and shoes for the end of the school year. Collecting a haul, you two stopped off for lunch and a trip to the nail salon before you finally made your way back home in the evening. Sarah was smiling brightly in the passenger seat, joking around with you and eagerly telling you all about the latest school drama. Your heart was about to burst with how much she’d come out of her shell again all day, even wanting to show off her new things to her dad when you both got back.
In the living room, Joel greets you two from the couch, eyes widening and a low whistle leaving his lips when he sees the damage done, “Quite some shoppin’ there, Bug. Y’all buy out the whole store?”
You wave him off and encourage Sarah to show off her haul, walking over to settle onto the sofa next to Joel. The younger Miller excitedly starts pulling out pieces and showcasing them, excitedly telling her dad exactly where she plans to wear them. His hand rests on your leg, attention completely focused on his daughter in front of him, squeezing you gently when she gets particularly worked up over something. You can tell he feels what you were in the car, heart bursting that she seems like herself again after a day spent with you.
“That’s nice, Sare Bear. I like the color,” Joel comments on the last shirt Sarah holds up, her smile still beaming as she tosses it back into the bag.
“Thanks, Mom actually picked it out! I thought it would be fun to have for camp this year, since I’m gonna start the counselor training program…” Her voice trails off as Joel listens intently. You, on the other hand, take deep breaths to hold it together, the simple moniker rolling off of Sarah’s tongue so naturally. Your heartbeat thumps in your chest, and baby Miller kicks her feet against your tummy — equally as excited.
You manage to keep it calm while Sarah recaps the rest of the day before she gathers up her shopping bags to take to her room. As she’s leaving the room, she’s quick to run over and give you a hug, leaning down to meet you where you sit on the couch. Your belly sticks out between the two of you, but regardless you pull her into a tight squeeze as she says thank you. Her curls bounce as she scampers off upstairs, the quiet sounds of her feet in the hallway queuing your watery eyes to overflow and for your nose to sniffle. Joel is grinning brightly next to you, pulling you into his lap and holding you against him as he wipes the few happy tears away.
“She called me Mom…” you whisper to your husband, afraid to admit it any louder as if it would disappear.
Joel presses his forehead against yours, a sweet kiss against your lips before he whispers back, “You have no idea how happy it makes me to know she feels that way about you.”
“I just…I feel so lucky. And maybe it’s hormones, but oh my god, I can’t stop blubbering. I’m a mom.”
“You’re the best mom. Have been to Sarah since she met you, and you’re going to be the best mom to our little one on the way.”
June 21st, 2009.
The first day of summer.
It’s the first day of summer and you’re stuck inside. Not at home, no, you’re currently propped up in a hospital bed with your legs in stir-ups, breathing in between contractions. Exhaustion weighs on your body, a full hour passing of you pushing in time with the pain in your abdomen that radiates all over. Sweat sticks your hair to your forehead and Joel sitting next to you brushes it out of the way. His other hand is limp in yours, ready to be squeezed with a vice grip whenever you need to push. Joel leans over you in level with your head, lathering on encouragements.
“You got this, Mari.”
“So strong, baby. You can do it.”
“Thank you, mi amor, thank you thank you thank you.”
The last one comes after a string of complaints against him doing this to you — despite you both knowing you begged for it nine months prior — and for having such a big head in his own baby photos that he had to have passed down to the baby.
Another wave kicks in, your doctor and nurses coaching you to give another final push. Putting every last bit of your energy behind the flex of your muscles, groaning out with pain and frustration before a piercing cry fills the room. Heavy, tiny sobs ring in your ears.
“You did it, baby, m’so proud of you. Our little girl,” Joel says in awe, glancing between you and where the doctor holds your little baby girl, summoning Dad over to cut the cord.
She’s taken away to be cleaned up and Joel returns to your side, ready to help you attentively through the afterbirth. You wave him off, begging him to go keep an eye on your little girl. Once she’s clean enough, the nurses lay her on your bare chest, the sight of her tiny fingers and toes bringing about your own cries. Your hands hold her there, delicate touches brushing against her soft skin and her damp but full head of dark brown hair.
The rest of the process is painful but smoother, shorter. Before you know it, all tests are done and Joel is next to the bed again, wiping a damp cloth across your forehead.
A rush of adrenaline, pure unfiltered need and excitement to meet your daughter keeps you awake, sitting up carefully as you accept her into your arms from your husband who’s wearing the biggest smile. He sits on the edge of the bed, hand on your leg as you study the features on her small face.
“She’s perfect, isn’t she, Mari? Looks like her momma.”
You beam, shaking your head as you place a fingertip against her nose, “See, I think she looks like her daddy. Already got the grumpy brow.”
Both of you laugh, your unbridled attention on the tiny bundle in your arms as you gush over her for minutes longer. Joel rubs your leg, drawing your eyes up to him as he asks, “So you think we picked a good name?”
“I think we picked a perfect name. Our ‘S’ girls,” you grin at him before looking down at your little girl, “Skye Isla Miller. I think it suits her perfectly.”
A bit more time is spent between only the two of you and Skye before you’re itching to see your eldest, and for her to meet her little sister. Joel retreats to where Sarah’s in the waiting area with Tommy and Maria, who’s now three months pregnant herself, waving her to come back with him. She nervously enters the room, quiet as a mouse until you reassure her with a smile and welcome her to sit in the bed next to you.
Joel makes the introductions, voice thick with emotion as he stands over his three girls, watching as his first little one meets his second, “Sarah Elena, this is your baby sister, Skye Isla.”
Sarah quietly asks permission to hold her; you lay Skye in her arms carefully, teaching her how to support her head and where to avoid her soft spot. Sarah picks up on it like a natural, adjusting her little sister when she fusses a bit, finally settling into a new set of familiar hands.
“Dad said you did a really good job, Mom. With everything today. S’pretty cool that you brought a whole person into the world…” Sarah glances over at you with a shy smile before addressing both you and Joel, “M’really happy she’s here.”
“You’re gonna be a great big sister, Bug,” Joel beams with pride as he squeezes her shoulder, leaning over to press a kiss to the crown of your head. He hums as he looks over you three, “Got my Mariposa, my Bug, and my little June Bug. Mi maripositas. Don’t think anything could beat seeing my three girls altogether finally.”
You find yourself observing your family from afar, listening with muffled ears as Joel and Sarah chat about who Skye got what features from. Cheeks aching from smiling, you can’t help but think that this summer was off to the most wonderful start, and that every summer after was only going to get better.
taglist: @beskarandblasters @undrthelights @swiftispunk @joelsversion @asirenbyanyothername @ellenmunn @ja-ehyun @sw33tp1xie @marisemonteiroo @brunetteeras @bongsrconfusing @addictedtotlou @angie2274 @pedrostories @pedroholic @theelishad @johnwatsn @elissa @felicityofbakerstreet @atinylittlepain @northernbluess @cannolighost @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @yazsos @peppesgirl @pastawench @anoverwhelmingdin @wolfbook87 @mswarriorbabe80 @planet-marz1 @kiwisbell @lizzie-cakes
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Palestine news summary from Lets Talk Palestine.
[For more information, links, and ways to help check their LinkTree linktr.ee/letstalkpalestine]
April 22 and April 23, 2024.
April 22. Day 199.
• 54 Palestinians killed, 104 injured in Gaza as Israel commits 6 massacres in the last 24 hours
🏥 283+ bodies found deliberately hidden by Israeli army across 4 mass graves in Nasser Hospital following Israel’s brutal siege
• 3 Palestinians, incl. 19-year-old & elderly woman, shot by IOF as they opened fire on cars on a highway in West Bank
🍞 4 bakeries resume production in north Gaza after 170 days of being inoperable
🔻 Hamas claims strike on group of IOF soldiers & military bulldozer + sniped IOF soldier in north Gaza
🦠 700,000 Palestinians affected by unprecedented spread of infectious diseases in north Gaza
🇺🇸 Universities crackdown + authorize police to arrest dozens of students protesting at Columbia & Yale to divest from companies profiting off the genocide in Gaza; sparking similar protests across US campuses
• Leader of Tulkarem Brigades (local resistance group) resurfaces after claims he was killed during Israel’s 3-day raid of Nur Shams camp in West Bank.
April 23. Day 200.
200 Days of Genocide, Instagram Link.
Day 200 - what happened today in Gaza
‼️ Today marks 200 days of genocide. Over 34,000 Palestinians have been killed with the real number including the thousands missing, buried under rubble, estimated to be over 42,000, including 15,000+ children and 10,000+ women.
🏥 310 bodies uncovered in mass graves at Nasser Hospital; many found handcuffed, shot in the head, wearing prisoner's uniforms, or stripped of their clothes.
• 3 Palestinians killed in Israeli airstrike on residential building in "safe zone" Rafah.
• IOF naval ships attack Gaza's coasts, targeting Deir el-Balah, Nuseirat camp & az-Zawayda.
🚚 310 aid trucks entered Gaza yesterday, the most since Oct 7, but still far below the expected 500 per day.
🏥 Israeli forces turn Gaza’s only specialized cancer hospital into a military base, while only 11/35 hospitals remain partially functioning.
[Magz note: partially functioning hospitals in this case means having basic medical treatment available, medical staff, and being way over capacity unable to treat many of the patients. It has been previously noted that multiple hospitals in Gaza have long since lack anesthesia for example, and have to use basic painkillers like ibuprofen if any.]
• IOF continuously bomb Beit Lahia (north Gaza) after ordering evacuation of 50,000 Palestinians despite nowhere safe to go.
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birthday girl
moder!au
pairing; ellie williams x fem!reader
cw; language, (brief) 18+ content , alcohol use, modern!au, (brief) underage drinking (reader is turning 20, while ellie is 22)
an; i only did this cuz my bday was yesterday (may 5th)
༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹▫◃ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ
I placed my keys and bag right at the front door, leaning against the front door to mentally prepare myself for whatever Ellie had planned for my birthday today.
"Ellie!" I called out, knowing she had to be somewhere in our shared apartment, "I'm home, Ellie!"
"Don't any of turn the lights on. Just come to the bedroom," her voice came from down the hall, exactly from our bedroom.
My legs carried me through the dim hall, passing by the closed bathroom, a bit annoyed as it looked as though she left the light on in there. Jesus, our utility bills are gonna be so fucking crazy, I can feel it.
"El?" I called out to her again, not seeing her anywhere in the room. Not because it was dark, there were a few candles lit in the bedroom, a bunch of different flower petals all over the floor and plenty more on the bed. On either side of the bed, there were an almost absurd amount of 'Happy Birthday!' balloons, which of course made me giggle at them.
"Hey, baby," Ellie kissed on the nape of my neck, a glass of wine entering my peripheral view on both sides of me, "happy birthday, gorgeous. Got you a drink."
"Ellie, I'm a minor," I joked, biting my lip and turning to face up at her. She rolled her eyes before handed me the drink anyways.
"Ugh, shut up and take the damn drink. No one's here to bust us."
"You're going to jail," I whispered, keeping eye contact with the woman in front of me as I took a sip from the cup handed to me. Ellie chuckled and did the same, her hand reaching for my waist and looking me up and down a few times.
"Why's the bathroom light on?"
"It's not."
"Then why's there light coming from beneath the-"
"One thing at time princess," Ellie chuckled, "Take these clothes off, I'll show you why the 'light' is on," Ellie took both our glasses, placing them on the nightstand on her side of the bed before coming back to me and slowly starting to strip.
"Oh, you were serious," I raised a brow, following her lead.
"Of course I was serious. Keep your bra and panties on though."
"Oh, but you can walk around without a bra on?"
"I have no fucking tits. What do I need to wear a bra for?"
I pouted at Ellie, tossing my shirt at her and unbuttoning my jeans, "whatever. Whore."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me, you whore," I giggled, putting my hands on her chest as she closed the distance between us, smirking and letting her hand latch onto my hips.
"I dare you to say it again."
"No. I'm good on that," I smiled up at her, doing my best to keep my eyes on her.
"Pussy," Ellie nodded, "take your pants off, let's go," the freckled woman, left to the bathroom without me which sent me into a bit of a panic and I nearly died taking my pants off.
After a little bit, I found Ellie bent over the bathtub, dumping a handful of bath salts into the bubbly water. I also noticed the candles on the sink, the toilet and the two front corner of the tub. On the mirror, the words 'one year left until you can buy alcohol... legally' was written in pink dry erase marker.
A giggle left me as Ellie turned to me and gently tugged at my undergarments, asking to peel them off me. I gave her the green light, watching as she kneeled down, a little too excited to undress me.
"You're so pretty, baby. So pretty."
"I know. You told me about eight million times today, Ellie."
"That's not enough."
"It is for me."
"Yeah, to you. Not me," Ellie tossed them to the side, standing up so she could undo my bra now, "I didn't know if you wanted a bubble bath or just bath salts so I did both for you. Get in, the water is boiling, just how you like it."
"Oh, how thoughtful," I scoffed, watching Ellie now completely undress herself and then help me in the tub with her. I took her hand, sitting in front of her and her behind me, of course.
Right off the bat, Ellie started massaging my back, leaving a trail of kisses every now and again. Her hands would sometimes find their way to my thighs or breasts but she would hesitantly pull away, replacing her lewd actions with kisses and more massages.
"Just do it, babe. I deserve it. Work was stressful and it's my birthday."
"Thank fuck," she huffed, instantly going to grope my tits and kiss the side of my neck, "I've been waiting way too long for you to get home."
"I can tell," I grinned at her comment, shutting my eyes while she had her little fun, "No ice cream cake?"
"It's in the freezer."
"Mmm, we're not lighting it tonight are we?"
"Definitely not, sweetheart," Ellie huffed, biting down my shoulder and moving her hands down to my thighs, kneading them like dough, "fuck, I missed you all day, you don't understand. My favorite birthday girl."
I wanted to respond, truly but Ellie was dipping her toe into an exhilarating trance and I followed right beside her. Her little grunts and groans were not helping either of us leave this rapture. Her long fingers had slipped inside of me, sending a shiver down my back and a soft gasp leaving me. I could feel her lips curl into a grin on my shoulder. Ellie was definitely going to start acting like a dickhead, she was already too far in. That was until we were startled by a knock on the door.
"The fuck?" we spoke in sync, Ellie hugging me close to her rather than attempting to move, "did you invite anyone over?" I muttered, removing her hands and getting out of the tub.
"No. Dina, Joel, and Jesse said they'd come over but I told them not to."
"You know they don't listen to anyone, damn it," I rolled my eyes, handing Ellie a towel as she stepped out after me and went to the room, I assumed to get us robes.
"I'm sorry. I was truing to give you a good birthday present. But these jackasses-."
"Minus Joel!" I cut Ellie off, punching her shoulder and pulling her away from the closet so I could look through it.
"Fucking, excuse you!" Ellie laughed, damn near putting me in a head lock as she walked me to the bed, "Don't be a little shit! Your birthday doesn't exclude me beating your ass!"
I squealed a bit before getting out of her grasp and crawling on the bed. Ellie climbed on top of me, starting to playfully land some punches on me.
"Stop it! I'm cold, it's cold! Get me a robe, Ellie, please, I'm sorry!" I yelped, blocking her and kicking my feet in the air.
"Say you're sorry! Admit you were wrong!"
"Okay, okay! I'm sorry! I was in the wrong, now get me some clothes, I'm freezing!"
We lied on the bed laughing for a bit before Ellie got up, finding me some lacey underclothing, shorts and one of her tops and jackets. I quickly got dressed so I could watch her get dressed.
"Go blow out the candles, drain the tub. I'm gonna open the door."
"Are you forgetting something?" I backed my ass into Ellie's hip, glancing back at her as she raised a brow at me actions. Her hand raised slightly then came down harshly, leaving a crazy sting on a single cheek.
"Nope! No, complaints! Go do what you were told," Ellie spoke as I opened my mouth to cry about how hard she had spanked me, "I'll kiss it after they leave. But the longer you take to blow out those candles-."
"The longer it's gonna take for things to go my way, yeah, yeah, yeah."
"Atta girl," Ellie chuckled, kissing my forehead before going to blow out the candles lit in our room then leaving to open the front door.
Fuck Jesse and Dina. Love Joel, of course. He gets a pass.
#tlou2#tlou ellie#tlou part 2#tlou fic#ellie williams tlou#the last of us p2#ellie williams#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams imagine#ellie williams x you#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams the last of us#ellie williams smut#the last of us#tlou#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us fic#tlou fanfiction#ellie tlou#tlou x reader#ellie miller#ellie x reader#ellie x you#ellie x fem reader#ellie the last of us#the last of us ellie#i regret everything#i regret nothing#𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 ⋆˚✿˖°
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Thick as blood sweet as milk
Chapter 5
The younger one tries to grab you via the paper hole. You jumped back almost ripping over your chair, the cat hissing and scratching at the arm the tar like blood leaking over the desk. The smell was fucking rancid so you held your breath and slammed the panic button before calling “Rex” you said almost vomiting from the shutter being able to cut off the arm rolling until being stopped by the radio.You grabbed your cat walking out of the office into the hallway to wait for the DDD. As usual they showed up exterminated and checked with you “my cat scratched at one of the arms, the severed arm is in the office” you pet her cleaning her paw with tissues “on it” a hazmat walked in to see it “their so aggressive right now” he commented placing it into a garbage can that could be locked then cleaning with an unknown chemical that cut through the blood like nothing, your old uniform from the past attack had to be thrown away, the black tar staining the fabrics. “You’re telling me” you sighed walking back in and waving to the others as they left. Soon the twins and the pilots came together and yes they were all them, you asked how it was and the girls giggled talking a little gossip and passed her a telegram “there’s a magazine party coming up you should come” Sel jumped up and down her heels clacking “calm down, but yeah you should totally go, you don’t have party dresses so we should go shopping” El smiled walking with her sister into the hall “oh and you can’t say no or we’ll drag you!” Sel yelled behind her faking an evil laugh making her sister cackle. You shook your head turning to the pilots, Steven held up his drunken father mumbling “I promise you it’s him, I don’t think dopples can get drunk and stupid enough to lose his hat in the wind” Steven passed both their papers gently fixing his grip on his dad “wow I have never been that drunk before” you laughed checking everything “yeah well, I don’t think girls can even drink that much. Smaller organs right?” He said, you nodded (ah, 1950s understanding of anatomy) “all seems ok, sleep well” you passed everything back to him “thank you miss, and we hope you sleep soon can’t have you getting ill on us” he winked walking off pulling his father with him.
The last resident was gauss. He was a reporter so you didn’t have much hope of him coming anytime soon, you decide to turn the radio to a music station singing along to the late night tunes.
Almost an hour of playing with the cat and singing and dancing you got caught off guard as you vibed singing 🎵 “you had plenty of it 19…22 and I had so much to give to youuu~ why don’t you do right like other men do~” 🎵 you spinned holding the now empty coffee “boo.” You jumped eyes almost popping out to see gauss. Soaking wet and pissed “oh! So sorry” you placed the cup down and grabbed his papers “don’t apologize, I like watching you dance and sing, you do it well doll” he said slicking back his wet hair, his shirt stuck to his skin showing no under shirt. You stared a little, why did a reporter have to be buff like that? He flexed a peck making you mentally die “don’t stare too long, the milkman might get jealous” he spoke lowly as if Francis was in the hall “how did you?” You asked not even bothering to finish “I see the way he looks at you at times” he chuckled “but no worries doll I got nothing for you I just like knowing the story” he flicked his press pass as you slid everything back “speaking of stories, why didn’t you get me anything when everyone else did?” You asked not wanting to sound greedy “what? I did I passed onto the milkman himself to give it to you, flowers and a hat”you were stunned. A gasp. Dumbfounded. You laughed a little realizing what happened that day. Francis was jealous of Gauss‘s gift because he was so caught off guard by everyone else . He threw it away. Then he flirts with you to feel and know he’s the one your into. “What a teenager!” You said randomly getting up and laughing more. Gauss was lost and a little upset “you didn’t receive it?” He said “no! Mosses threw it away!” You laughed holding yourself “he threw it away because he was jealous he was the only one without a gift!” Gauss couldn’t even believe Francis could blink let alone get jealous but he too started laughing “oh dear, I know i’m a little harsh around the edges. I have went to my own mama to help get you the gift.” He explained “well atleast you know I tried, it wasn’t an expensive hat anyways” he waved it off “what a ride tonight, one minute I’m interviewing a bunch of triple D officials the next I learned my emotionless robot neighbor gets jealous!” He laughed walking into the hall “goodnight doll, and tell ya boyfriend he owes me $10 for the gift he was soooo jealous of” he winked to you before disappearing.
You were still so distraught to even think the Francis that way, you can hear the pitter powder from the outside as you walked up the stairs finally ready to get to bed, but one did not leave your mind Francis did look at natcha with sad eyes so why was he getting jealous over you? You passed his door hearing music from it so you decided to knock the door. It just simply opened walking through without making noise, but you didn’t know why your were being quiet. An armchair and a couch and a lamp light. in living room all over a Persian rug was the scene in front of you. on the armchair was Francis. his house coat undone, showing his wife beater. His breathing was slow as he held a lit cigar in his hand, his record player playing the song that you couldn’t understand. 
He hummed along with his eyes closed, you sat on the couch listening to him…it was calming
The song repeated as he opened his eyes a little spooked to see you, he looked at his door which was wide open closing it and locking. He looked out the window, the rain starting to relax as he could see stars “y/n~” he hummed “y/n” “y/n” he sang squeezing your arm gently, you grunted eyes still closed, the cat popped up from behind the coach purring like crazy as he pet her “your such a loving thing” he cooed finally making you wake up, he smiled down at you having to kneel to meet your gaze on the couch. You looked up him lovingly in a hazy dream state holding your hands up for a hug, he happily holds you putting his forehead to yours “y/n this isn’t a dream” he whispered, his heart beating quickly as you hugged him closer “good morning” you whispered kissing him slowly, he froze but couldn’t help kissing back breathing in your scent. Finally let go pushing you back “please tell me your aware your actually kissing me” your eyes widened hearing him, your heart jumping “uh um well…..why’d you stop?” You were surprised you even said it but god now that you were fully awake you wanted it more “…I…” he was red looking down embarrassed, your position was a sight indeed. Your legs at either side of him, he was kneeling before you his arms wrapped around you, breathing in you pulled his face up kissing it lightly in sections make him breath a little harder “you smell so good, and your so soft…oh how I wished to hold you like this times over” he said almost reciting it like a poem, you blushed your head feeling like it moved on its own to kiss him deeper even holding his head in place, he tasted like whiskey and tobacco and you coffee. It felt like you kissed for hours but it was barely a few minutes, you separated looking away from other “this isn’t right” you got up walking to the window opening it to get some fresh air the rain droplets falling onto your hands “I’m sorry Francis it’s just.. I keep thinking this crazy theory” you put your face in your hands wanting to disappear from the situation “y/n, what’s going on?” He put his hand in your shoulders to face him “I don’t understand” you felt so bad. If you were wrong? Would he hate you? And if you were right you would feel like a harlot for preying on him. You looked away up at the stares preparing for either outcome “is Natasha yours?” You whispered the last part feeling him stiffen up. “….come sit.” He lead you to the couch again sitting in his armchair “…yes. Natasha is my daughter” there it was. Your heart sank and your hands grew cold “but. Natcha and me are on the terms that Natasha doesn’t need to know for now. And that natcha wishes to parent her alone.” He clarified holding your hand “you are not a home wrecker of any sort” he assured you “but how. How did it happen?” You asked thinking they were married or school sweethearts or anything “that’s a….sad story, but I will tell you” he poured you a shot and sat back changing the record to play a different song
“You see, those funny inappropriate jokes about milk men are a little bit more true than you think” he grew uncomfortable and ashamed “I was 22…natcha was 30…she was married I was not.”he continued “ I just started the job and her house was on my route, we took to liking to each other…it was nice. Her husband was a banker and from what I remember he was swell, a nice older man never yelled or hurt her. The one thing he couldn’t give Natcha was children…so she started to flirt and I like the dumb horny kid I was I went along. She wasn’t looking for a way out y/n she just wanted a child, after a year she was pregnant and didn’t even tell me until her 3rd trimester! She even showed me the divorce papers! I thought I was becoming a father, figures out I was just a means to an end….her husband did infact try and kill me too but thankfully I was stronger and faster. And she disappeared…I didn’t even know what my child was….i learned only 3 years ago her name was Natasha.” Francis held his temple holding back his tears composing himself. You weren’t even able to react processing all the information, atleast you had an answer. Yes. Natasha was Francis’s child and he was an absent father, but not by choice at face value “ when I moved into this apartment, I didn’t even know she was here. It was like they wanted me to see my child.” Francis finally let a tear roll “I thank god anytime Natasha chooses to talk to me, but I do feel sour towards Natcha to this day” he sighed “ i’m sorry for what she did to you. If she did ask you to be the father would you have married her?”
There was a pause.
“Now? No. Back then….maybe. You have to understand she’s the type of person where she will get what she wants and that is it. I don’t see her as evil, but I do see it as callous.” He explained sipping his drink “but know I have fallen in love with you in a way I haven’t felt in a long time y/n. I feel like a little boy again leaving wild flowers on a desk” he was very poetic when he spoke long enough and you could now fully understand why natcha would want him if not only for child bearing “you are?” You gulped “yes.” He kneeled before you again waiting on you to accept his touch, you pulled his hands towards you “I’m in love with you too I believe” you looked down “but your so elusive” he smiled holding your chin up “I’m a book, simply open and read” you let out a simple smile “where are you from?” “Russia” “born?” “No, but my parents were, the red scare is understandable if not slightly hurtful” he explained ���I can speak it too” “how old are you?” “33” “favorite color?” “Red, ironically” “can I sleep here tonight?” He smiled at that question kissing you quick “of course my love”
Here you were (fucking finally) showered and in a big shirt cuddling against Francis, him kissing you gently randomly making you gleam. He held you so close it felt like he wanted to become one physically, you kissed back both of you acting like puppy’s in love.
You slept peacefully that night
By the wayyy send suggestions for the cat’s name and breed! I’ll do a poll before the next chapter
#Spotify#francis mosses x you#francis mosses#tnmn milkman#milkman x reader#tnmn#thats not my neighbor#thats not my neighbour milkman#izaack gauss
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Where walls crumble (Reader x Joel Miller)
Requested by: anon, Forever tag: @missmelodramatic, @theletterhart, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly, @denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco @idkwhatmyusernameis, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr
“Stay close.” – Joel made clear. Gun in the ready, resting on his wrist, the hand clutching onto a flashlight to light his way. You nudged Ellie with a nod to get a move on when she lingered. She puffed soft going further. You ending the line. Checking your back, you said goodbye to the last of the light fading outside. Darkness falling upon earth. The streets no longer a safe place, but neither were any buildings. It was a heavy debate you had to wager.
Which would give you the best chances of survival. Haven chosen for a building, you ventured deeper into the abandoned structure to either pass through or find refuge for the night. Stepping up your pace, you quickened over to Ellie. Walking just a step behind to protect her from behind. Not that she would actually need it. Yet it was an unspoken rule between Joel and you. Always protect Ellie no matter what. Even when it meant endangering yourself.
Ellie’s stomach growled when moving to the second floor. It made Joel stop, quirking his eyebrow at her. – “What! I’m hungry.” – Ellie responded in hushed tones. You stepped forwards, letting your hand fall on her shoulder. Giving it a soft squeeze. Ellie looking up at you. Your little gesture saying enough. You all were. Ellie lowered her gaze. Joel watched as you dropped your backpack to the ground. Revealing a chocolate bar you found in a store a few blocks away.
You showed it to Ellie with a smile. – “Sweet! Where did you get this!” – she exclaimed with delight in her eyes. Joel took a soft sigh, resting his hand on his hip. – “It’s yours.” – you told her. Ellie’s smile slowly dropping. – “What about you?” – she looked between Joel and you. Joel turning his gaze away. – “Don’t worry about us. It’s yours El.” – you reassured her, feeling your own stomach growl for it. Ellie looked up to Joel, seeing him nod.
Joel and you started going further up the stairs. Ellie still looking at the chocolate bar. She opened the package, holding the bar in her hands. The chocolate had become hard, making her grit her teeth trying to break it. Nothing worked even when she put all her might into it. As a last resort, threw she the chocolate bar against the steps. Breaking it into three pieces. Smirking she loved how the violent way gave her what she wanted.
Picking up the broken pieces, she ran up after you. On the second floor, she tugged hard on your clothing. Before you could say something, she pushed a piece in your hand. Then running over to Joel to give him one. Joel and you staring confused at each other. – “A thank you might be welcome.” – Ellie said sarcastically. You smiled, touching her cheek caringly. Ellie groaned trying to bite a piece of it.
You disposed of your piece by sticking it in your mouth to suck on it. Eventually it would melt… hopefully. Joel’s hand disappeared in his pocket to stash it there. Gun in the ready, checked Joel and you the floor. Trying each door and checking every corner. Ellie crunching loudly on her piece of chocolate. It annoyed Joel, throwing a fatherly scowl at her. It immediately zipped her up. Up till now it had been quiet.
Joel stopped at a stairs that led even further up or further down the hallway. The entire building a maze. You joined his side, knowing he needed your opinion on this. You just started speaking, saying the options out loud to make the decision easier. Knowing Joel was breaking his head on it. – “If we go up, there might be a smaller chance to escape when necessary. Further down might lead to a dead end, weakening our chances when we’ll have to return when an attack could surprise us.” – Joel humming loud.
“So which way would you choose?” – he asked, highly appreciating your opinion. You exhaled long, weighing the options down. Ellie was kicking some dust while you two confined with each other. You actually didn’t want to choose. What if you chose wrongly and something terrible would happen. You didn’t want that on your conscious. Joel noticed your struggle, reaching for you. Placing his palm against your cheek. – “It will be on me.” – he whispered.
Your back straightened hearing a familiar sound. Joel’s eyes widened, removing his hand from your cheek. Bringing it to his lips to silence you and Ellie. Ellie swallowed nervously. Joel and you turned around hearing the sound came from behind you. The three of you slowly backing away. Ellie stumbled back, foot stepping onto glass. It shattered, booming the crunching sound loudly in the hallway. Joel’s eyes widened. In a second, you heard louder sounds and the thumping of footsteps.
“Run.” – Joel said concerned. He took Ellie’s arm, dragging her with him up the stairs. You followed close by hearing the infected run towards you. They were fast and clearly in group. At least seven or eight. At the top of the stairs, you saw them bump against the wall, before realizing they had to turn to head up the stairs. Infected running over and trampling each other to get up first. Gasping loud, you started shooting down at them.
If you could kill a few on the way, it was a bonus. The infected accepted the bullets hitting their body parts. Arm swaying back as they got back in the shoulder. – “Shit!” – you said as they came closer. Taking a run for it before they’d catch you. Joel and Ellie already at the end of the corridor, coming at a cross. They took a left. Huffing and puffing loud, you sprinted to catch up with them. Infected closing in, hot on your tail.
You turned left as well, tripping over a fallen chair, you had missed. Crawling back, you heard them close in. Scrambling to get up on your feet. You weren’t the only one falling over the chair, strapped with vines. Kicking your feet, you fought back their grabby hands. Panicking as you didn’t seem to get up fast enough. Turning around, you found a way to get up. A hand reaching for your ankle. Missing it by just a hair. Running it took you a lot more energy to make speed. Infected running after you.
If you could just stop and shoot at them, but you couldn’t. Not without being taken out yourself. How much you loved to have a grenade for this. You lost sight of Ellie and Joel, having no idea where they’d run off to. You came at another cross, stopping to take a close look of where they went. On your left a glass window, on the right a door. The infected drew nearer as suddenly your eyes widened. The door on your right falling to the ground, an infected bursting through. Holding your hands in front of you, you held onto the infected to keep his mouth away from you.
The impact of his force made you fall backwards through the glass. Shards clattering to the ground, leaving cuts on your face, neck, and hands. The infected falling with you, landing on top of you as you screamed when a pain shot through your ankle. It got stuck on the side of the broken glass, twisting it. The infected snapped its mouth at you, trying to get a bite. You kept him out of your face, grunting. If only you could reach for your gun.
Removing one arm from against it, made the infected come closer to your face. Looking away, you pressed your lips together to keep it at bay. Using your one arm to keep it away from your flesh. Your fingers locked on your gun as you lifted it up. Firing once at the infected. Its head exploding, making you close your eyes for any gore that would drop onto you. Shoving the lifeless corpse off you. Staying here was out of the question. You tried to get up, falling back through your ankle.
A sharp pain shooting through your nerves as standing on it put you through a hell of pain. Unable to stand, you started crawling back. Panting loud, you heard the remaining infected come. Falling through the broken window like lap dolls. Crawling back by the use of your elbows and foot. Gun raised; you started shooting those that got up. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Shot after shot fired. One or two dropping to their knees. Bang. Bang. Bang. Then suddenly Click. Eyes widening, you pulled the trigger more. Click, click, click. Panicking, you knew you were out of ammo.
“No! no, no, no, no.” – you said, backing more up. Tears running down your cheek as you were defenseless now. Infected coming your way with snapping jaws. – “I’m sorry Joel…” – you said before closing your eyes. Turning your head to the side to brace for impact. Heart thumping loudly in your chest. Breathing slowing down as the end was stalling. Bang! A loud thump falling at your feet. Heavy weight upon your lap that made you open your eyes frantically.
An infected laying lifeless with its head on your lap. – “Get it off, get it off, get it off.” – you panicked kicking your feet and pushing it off you. Having a corpse on you, just felt disgusting. Someone jumping in front of you, made you gasp as he came from the side. Gun pointed, he started shooting more. – “What did I tell you?” – Joel shouted, aiming at more infected. – “Never separate!” – he said loudly, shooting. One came close, making him grab for it instead.
Pushing it down, out of the way. Before it could crawl over to you, shot Joel it in the head. Another one came jumping at him. Joel ducked away as it landed on its stomach near you. Your eyes widened when it grabbed with its hands up your leg to reach further up. – “Like hell you are!” – Joel called out angered, taking it by the ankle. Pulling it off you. He had to let go as an infected came bothering him. Before being bitten himself, he held his shotgun in between. Pressed against the wall. Grunting for dominance.
Shoving his shotgun against the infected its collarbone. His eyes fell on you, seeing you kick the infected off you as it had crawled back to you. – “I said…” – Joel spoke between gritted teeth. Grunting loudly, giving the infected a hard push. It stumbled back, making him grab the one on the ground by the ankle again. – “Hands off!” – he swore agitated, giving it a hard pull. Gasping loud, he got grabbed from behind, almost choking. Joel reached for his smaller gun, struggling to not be bitten or choked.
Setting his heel hard down on the infected its foot, he pushed it back. Spinning around to shoot it in the head. It dropped to the ground. You were struggling to keep yourself from being bitten as Joel shot in action. He kicked it in the head from the side, so it was off you. Then he shot it dead in the eye. The back of its skull shattered into a million pieces. Joel lowered his gun, grabbing you firmly by your vest. – “Do you have a dead wish?” – he yelled in your face.
It was the angriest you had ever seen him. – “I…I…I’m sorry.” – you stumbled out. – “Don’t separate!” – he pulled you up to his face. His glare enough to kill you on the spot. – “The first and most important rule Y/n!” – He shouted, shaking you a bit. – “You could’ve been dead!” – he inhaled sharply through his nose, puffing his chest up. – “I’m… I’m fine…” – you told him with shaking knees. – “I’m not!” – he replied loud. His eyes softening up on you. His glare making way for sadness and heartbreak. – “Don’t you understand!” – he made clear.
“You live okay! No matter what, you will survive… for me.” – Lips suddenly on yours. It took you a second to process what was occurring. Joel’s lips crashed against yours, hands trembling when he still held you by the sides of your vest. Taking a breather inches away from your lips, you kissed him in return. Ellie appeared through the broken window, looking in delighted shock at the dead infected scattered around. Then her eyes fell upon Joel and you kissing. – “Awesome.” – she said smiley.
“Yeah, you kiss her on the lips Joel! Give her a big smooch!” – Ellie cheered throwing her fist at him. – “I so knew you were crushing on Y/n.” – she mumbled to herself, proud that her prediction was right. Joel and you pulled away as he sighed loud. – “I’m going to kill that kid one day.” – he said annoyed. You chuckled, knowing how deeply he cared for her. Even when he didn’t want to admit it. Ellie’s eyes widened hearing more sounds. – “Oh-ho. Seems like these weren’t the only ones.” – she said sheepishly.
Joel looked worried at you, brushing his finger over the small cuts on your cheek. – “I can’t stand.” – you told him. – “I think I sprained my ankle when falling through the glass.” – Joel looked briefly over his shoulder to Ellie. – “Then I’ll carry you, Y/n.” – he said. – “What?” – you answered. Joel picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder. – “Ellie move!” – he ordered. Ellie nodded as Joel joined her, holding you tight so you wouldn’t tip over his shoulder. – “Joel, are you mad!” – you called out, finding it a dangerous idea.
He stepped over the glass frame where you fell through, hearing more infected come. He came to a stop at the end of the corridor, shooting at those approaching. Some fell down. Nudging Ellie with the back of his gun, he ordered her to get a move on. He turned, leaving your vision on the infected. Watching them run after you. – “Joel!” – you called out in a panic. Bouncing on his shoulder as he fired shots whenever he could. Taking a run for safety.
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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!
#imagine#the last of us#joel the last of us#the last of us series#the last of us fic#joel miller#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller imagine#joel miller imagines#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fanfic#ellie the last of us#fanfic#fanfiction#imagines#pedro pascal#pedro pascal joel miller#tlou#tlou imagines#tlou imagine#tlou fanfic#tlou fanfiction#pedro pascal imagines#the last of us one shot#the last of us angst#the last of us game#joel miller x
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Far-Right Mass Shootings, May 2022-May 2023
Now that we know that the mass murderer in Allen, Texas was a far-right extremist and incel (as well as that puzzling but not-that-uncommon mix of being a racialized neo-nazi/white supremacist), we wanted to illustrate that mass shootings by the far-right are not aberrations with this list of similar events from over the last twelve months:
December 23, 2022: A gunman opens fire in Paris, killing 3 Kurdish people & wounding 3 more in a plan to “kill non-European foreigners.” The attacker had just been released from prison after attacking migrants in Paris with a sword the year before.
December 19-20, 2022: 22-year-old Anderson Aldrich enters a CO. gay bar with an assault rifle & opens fire, killing five and wounding 25 others before he is subdued.
November 25, 2022: A 16-year-old former student storms two schools in Aracruz, Brazil, armed with two pistols and wearing a bulletproof vest emblazoned with a swastika. The teen shoots 16 people in the rampage, killing three of them.
October 12, 2022: After posting an online manifesto against Jewish & LGBTQ+ people, a Bratislava, Slovakia teen shoots three people outside a local gay bar, killing two and wounding the third person before fleeing. The suspect was found dead the next day.
September 27, 2022: Brothers Mark & Michael Sheppard are charged with manslaughter for opening fire on a group of migrants getting water near Hudspeth County, TX. One victim died from gunshot wounds, and one is recovering at an El Paso hospital.
September 26, 2022: A gunman wearing a balaclava and a t-shirt with a swastika emblazoned on it enters an elementary school in Izhevsk, Russia, killing 15 people - 11 of them children - and wounding another 39 before turning the gun on himself.
September 11, 2022: 53-year-old Igor Lanis’ obsession with far-right conspiracies ends when he guns down his wife, 25-year-old daughter, & family dog, before turning his shotgun on responding police, who shoot him dead. Only his daughter survives.
August 9, 2022: A group of Black men helping someone jump-start a car in a Macon, GA. Wal-Mart parking lot are subjected to racial abuse by another man who then pulls a gun and begins shooting at them.
May 15, 2022: 68-year-old David Wenwei Chou is charged with hate crimes after storming a Taiwanese church in Laguna Woods, CA. and shooting parishoners, killing one and injuring five others
May 14, 2022: An 18-year-old white supremacist opens fire in a supermarket in a black neighbourhood in Buffalo, NY, killing ten customers and wounding three others while livestreaming the attack.
May 11, 2022: A masked gunman walks shoots 3 Korean women working in a Dallas hair salon. Authorities believe the incident is connected to two earlier drive-by shootings targeting Asian-owned businesses in the Dallas area on April 2nd and May 10th.
This is just a list of mass shootings committed by bigots, fascists, and far-right extremists over the last 12 months. We haven't included shooting with less than two victims, thwarted mass shootings, or any of bombings, stabbings, vehicle attacks, or other acts of violence.
In 2022 we documented 477 violent incidents motivated by hate or committed by bigots, fascists, or right-wing extremists, including 112 shootings. These attacks killed 366 people and injured 399 others. Read our 2022 report here.
When we say anti-fascism = self-defence, we meant it. The endpoint for far-right ideology is mass murder. Fascists intend to do harm to our communities and will seize on any opportunity to hurt others. The only thing stopping them is ourselves. WE PROTECT US!
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SasuHinaMonth2023 PROMPTS and ARTIST OF THE YEAR!
Well, well, well.
Looks like we're finally here! After weeks of preparation and formatting and planning, we are FINALLY ready to make two announcements today!
Let's start with Artist of the Year, as congratulations are very much due!
Perhaps you recognize this beautiful art style! The MOD team took attentive care to go through the many fabulous artists we have in the SasuHina fandom, and we found one artist in particular whose dreamy style and beautiful color schemes fit our theme perfectly!
We'd like to congratulate @daifukumochiin for being SasuHinaMonth2023's ARTIST OF THE YEAR!
Mochi is such an amazing artist that keeps pumping out beautiful pieces, and we were so happy to see the amazing pieces she made for our banner and icon for 2023! Everyone, please send your love and joy to DaifukuMochiin. She deserves it!
Now, we think it's about we get into the meat of this post!
For anyone who needs a reminder, SHMonth2023's Theme is A SIGN OF AFFECTION. The MOD team has been working on the many prompts correlating with this theme, and right now, we're happy to share these prompts with you all! We've also translated the prompts in Spanish for all our hispanohablante friends :)
SHMonth2023 Prompts
Day 1 | Día 1
“Love at first sight” | “Amor a primera vista”
“Waiting for you” | “Esperándote”
Day 2 | Día 2
“Knowing me, knowing you” | “Conociéndome, conociéndote”
“Home is where you are” | “Mi hogar es donde estás tú”
Day 3 | Día 3
“A glance that reveals everything” | “Una mirada que revela todo”
“Doing chores without being asked” | “Hacer los quehaceres sin que lo pidan”
Day 4 | Día 4
“Knowing their favorite drink” | “Conocer su bebida favorita”
“First touch” | “Primer roce”
Day 5 | Día 5
“Forehead touches” | “Frentes unidas”
“Lips against fingertips” | “Labios contra sus dedos”
Day 6 | Día 6
“If you fall, I will catch you” | “Si caes, yo te atraparé”
“A warm embrace” | “Un cálido abrazo”
Day 7 | Día 7
“Noticing subtleties” | “Notando sutilezas”
“Tying ties” | “Uniendo lazos”
Day 8 | Día 8
“Playing with hair” | “Jugando con el cabello”
“Talk to me.” | “Háblame”
Day 9 | Día 9
“You can find something truly important in an ordinary minute.” | “Puedes descubrir algo realmente importante en un minuto”
“Cooking together” | “Cocinando juntos”
Day 10 | Día 10
“Kissing in the rain” | “Beso bajo la lluvia”
“Finding beauty in the ugly and broken” | “Encontrar belleza en lo feo y roto”
Day 11 | Día 11
“I love you” | “Te amo”
“Nicknames” | “Apodos”
Day 12 | Día 12
“Stay a little longer.” | “Quédate un poco más”
"A collection of kisses" | “Una colección de besos”
Day 13 | Día 13
“A love that cannot simply be expressed with words” | “Un amor que simplemente no puede ser expresado en palabras”
"Secret rendezvous" | “Encuentro secreto”
Day 14 | Día 14
“Bouquets” | “Ramo de flores”
“Enjoying a story together” | “Disfrutando de una historia juntos”
Day 15 | Día 15
“Take my hand, take my whole life too.” | “Toma mi mano, también toma toda mi vida”
“Love notes/letters” | “Cartas/Notas de amor”
Day 16 | Día 16
"The name you yell after a nightmare" | “El nombre que gritas después de una pesadilla”
"I missed you." | “Te extrañé.”
Day 17 | Día 17
“Sharing a meal” | “Comer juntos”
"Watching the sunrise together" | “Ver el amanecer juntos”
Day 18 | Día 18
“Unyielding encouragement” | “Apoyo inquebrantable”
“Daily routine” | “Rutina”
Day 19 | Día 19
“To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love” | “Ser aficionado (a) al baile era un paso seguro para enamorarse”
"Even shame can turn into love" | “Incluso la vergüenza puede convertirse en amor”
Day 20 | Día 20
“A shared bed” | “Una cama compartida”
“Sudden confession” | “Confesión repentina”
Day 21 | Día 21
“A hint of jealousy” | “Un toque de celos”
“You should be kissed, and often, and by someone who knows how.” | “Deberías ser besado (a), constantemente y por alguien que sepa cómo”
Day 22 | Día 22
“Talking through problems” | “Hablando a través de los problemas”
“Vacation time spent together” | “Vacaciones juntos”
Day 23 | Día 23
"Poetry spoken by a simple man" | “Poesía escrita por un simple hombre”
"Courage found in a shy woman" | “Valentía encontrada en una mujer tímida”
Day 24 | Día 24
"Finding the middle ground" | “Encontrar el punto medio”
"If there was a rose every time I thought about you, there would be only one, because you never left my mind." | “Si existiese una rosa cada vez que pienso en ti, solo habría una porque nunca dejaste mi mente”
Day 25 | Día 25
"Shared hobbies" | “Pasatiempos compartidos”
"I trust you" | “Confío en ti”
Day 26 | Día 26
"A quiet relationship" | “Una relación privada”
"Following you" | “Siguiéndote”
Day 27 | Día 27
I’ve loved you for a thousand years, I’ll love you for a thousand more.” | “Te he amado por mil años, te amaré por mil más”
"Tears and touches" | “Lágrimas y roces”
Day 28 | Día 28
"Calling late at night" | “Una llamada tarde en la noche”
"I would do anything to call you mine." | “Haría lo que fuera para llamarte mía (o)”
Day 29 | Día 29
"If God made it a Sin to love you, I would be beyond saving" | “Si Dios hizo que amarte fuera un pecado, entonces no tengo salvación”
"An excuse to pull you closer" | “Una excusa para acercarte a mí”
Day 30 | Día 30
"Sharing a secret." | “Compartiendo un secreto”
"Warmth of a body on a cold night." | “La calidez del cuerpo en una noche fría”
Day 31 | Día 31
“There’s nothing I wouldn't do to make you feel my love.” | “No hay nada que no haría para demostrarte mi amor”
“Will you marry me?” | “¿Te casarías conmigo?”
_______________
We're excited for July to come to see all the creativity bloom from our little fandom! Just a reminder: we WILL be making weekly prompt cards for SHMonth, so keep an eye out for those as July creeps closer.
Thank you all for your patience and enthusiasm!
The MOD Team
#sasuhinamonth#shmonth#sasuhinamonth2023#shmonth2023#prompt list 2023#prompt list#artist of the year 2023
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did I mention that I love you?
I LOVE YOU THE MOSTEST!! THANK YOU FOR TJE ADORABLE LIL GROGU! UR THE BEST MWAH
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Swooping, Sloping, Cursive Letters: 20
word count: 1066
PLEASE READ THIS IS ME TRYING FIRST, AS THIS STORY RELIES HEAVILY UPON THE CONTEXT OF TIMT
April 22, 1989
Dear Will,
Prom is tonight. And I’m not going. It’s fine. I’m fine. I made up my mind a whole month ago and have been able to withstand the borderline harassment of our friends telling me that I’m gonna regret this decision for the rest of my life and would be better off just going without a date because it doesn’t matter if I have a date or not and it’s the experience that counts and Lucas said you’re going to be there so I should go too and fuck I regret this so much.
What time is it…? Why I’m writing down the question instead of just checking my fucking watch, I don’t know. It’s 5:30pm, prom starts at 6, and you probably haven’t left your house yet. And why I’m writing about the my suit being presentable enough instead of just going to my closet to check is so fucking counterproductive and
—
It was like a movie, the way I bolted out of the house in my dress slacks and suit jacket with half-tied converse, the laces billowing behind me in the wind as I biked through the neighborhood as fast as I could to your house. I should’ve just taken my car, but of course I had to bring all of my own rom-com fantasies to life. You know, like the Big Chase scene where the guy runs through the airport, praying that it isn’t too late to confess his love to the girl that nearly got away. But alas, I am no athlete, so this unfortunately came with the consequence of looking like a sweaty rat by the time I reached your driveway. Thankfully, you and El were still there, taking photos with Jonathan on the front steps. I haphazardly thrust my bike onto the curb and sprinted up to you as fast as my legs could carry me.
“Will!” I shouted, suddenly conscious of how I hadn’t prepared anything to say to you. My actions always have spoken louder than my words, which is concerning, considering the fact that I’m planning to become a writer once we’re out of high school. So I ran across your front lawn, and I stopped in my tracks when I noticed the surprised looks on Jonathan and El’s faces, the worried look on your own, and the confused expressions on Joyce and Hop’s.
“Hey, Mike,” Jonathan’s eyebrows furrowed together as I gasped for air.
“Hey, Jon,” I replied, leaning forward until my palms rested on my knees as I panted. I acknowledged everyone else, and then looked back up at you, standing back up and running my hand through my hair. The sweat clung to my hand, which I wiped on my slacks with a grimace. “Hey,” I said, “Yeah, so, uh– Will. Dude. Buddy. Do you want to go to the prom with me?”
There was a beat of silence that followed, and I felt the urge to cut my own tongue out. Before I could actually act on my impulse, you walked down the stairs and took a few more steps in my direction. “I thought you weren’t going,” you said, crossing your arms against your chest. I shook my head, shoving my hands in my pockets.
“I changed my mind. Lucas told me–” I began, but trailed off before I gave myself away. You could never know about how Lucas convinced me to go to prom on the sole basis of your attendance. That would’ve been humiliating.
“He told you what?” you prompted me to continue, taking another step forward so we were less than a foot apart.
“Just that everyone else was going, and that I was a weirdo for not wanting to go as well.”
“He’s not wrong,” you smirked up at me, and I lightly smacked your shoulder, feigning offense. “But, like,” you went on, “now that you’re actually coming to prom with us, doesn’t that mean you’re going with me already?”
Against my better judgment, I reached out and adjusted your shirt collar against the lapels of your suit. You looked up at me in mild shock, but hey, at least I didn’t kiss you. “I mean, I was asking if you wanted to go to prom with me as my date.”
Your face turned a beautiful shade of pink, and you stammered out, “I–I’m not sure if we’d be allowed to do that.”
“Come on,” I pleaded, “We’d be going as friends, they can’t kick us out for that.”
Another moment of silence bloomed between us like the yellow flower in your jacket pocket. You picked at your nails in contemplation. “Fine,” you relented with a smirk, “I guess I could go as your prom date… buddy.”
“I just know you’re never gonna let me live that down,” I whined, and you just laughed.
“Damn straight,” you agreed, and I refrained from making a gay joke on account of, oh I don’t know, outing myself. You put my bike in your garage while I was caught up on the plan for transportation, which was Lucas’ parents’ minivan, which would be there in a few minutes to pick us up. Needless to say, everyone was shocked when I climbed into the van.
Prom was pretty lame, and we all ended up leaving early and going back to your house, but I honestly don’t give a single flying fuck, because we actually got to dance together. I repeat: we actually got to dance together. The music had slowed down, everyone was finding their respective dates, and I was just about to leave the dance floor for my impending Closet Pity Party™ when you grabbed my wrist, pulling me closer to you and placing your hands on my hips. “What’s the point of prom if you don’t have at least one slow dance?” you asked, and I tried my best to appear as nonchalant as possible by shrugging. Meanwhile, I was, like, one second away from dying of happiness. It was dark enough I could get away with putting my hands on your shoulders, and you became a bit more confident with the way your hands gripped my waist as we swayed back and forth to the music. I’m grinning so hard while writing this. I think this has been the best night of my life by far. I hope this feeling lasts forever.
Love,
Mike
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#byler#byler fanfic#byler fic#byler tumblr#mike wheeler#will byers#will x mike#mike x will#stranger things#stranger things fic
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sur le fil [levi ackerman x f!reader]
chapter 2: el valse
your neighbours learn about your secret skills; cooking and painting. the latter causes some disturbance. petra makes a scene and you see what levi is actually like when he’s furious.
a/n: this one’s short but hey, flustered levi makes his appearance. the next chapter’s bigger 😏
masterpost | previous | next
you almost jumped out of bed when a loud thud echoed through the second floor. someone giggled and someone else shushed them. groaning, you slowly opened one eye to check your phone. 6:22 am.
“there goes my saturday…” you stretched and got up, pulling your flip flops from under the bed. with heavy-lidded eyes, you dragged your feet down the stairs, through the living room and into the kitchen.
“what the fuck? why are you all up?” levi was sitting down on the kitchen table, newspaper in one hand, a cigarette in the other. zoe and moblit slowly lifted their heads from the counter, looking up at you with guilt.
“i told you you’d wake her up, zoe.”
“that thud was you? i thought the ceiling fell.” you pushed the pair out of your way and looked at your coffee machine. “what did you do?”
“nothing! not yet, at least. we wanted to make coffee and levi wouldn’t help.” zoe scratched the back of her head as moblit sat her down on a chair. levi scrunched his nose and moved away from zoe.
“here.” you poured two espresso shots in shot glasses and placed them on the table. “drink these.”
“and take a shower,” levi added as zoe inspected the espresso shot, “you guys stink of gin.”
as your coffee poured, you took out an array of ingredients; flour, cheese, chocolate, eggs and more.
“breakfast is served in two hours.”
“thanks, y/n. come on, chérie.”
you were glad you took the time to fill up your share of the pantry in the week. you had loved cooking, ever since you were a kid. you always thought cooking for someone, sitting down to share the meal was one of the most intimate experiences.
you could cut the tension in the kitchen with a knife. every so often, you would peek at levi as you dusted flour off your hands, and he would shove his newspaper closer to his face. you still took it as a win; it meant he was already looking.
you were taking reference photos of the mess on the counter, the half-set breakfast table, levi’s newspaper and cigarettes, when you felt a cold hand on your waist. startled, you looked back at levi, who simply wanted you to get out of his way.
“sorry!” you squeaked out and went back to pour the pancake dough into the pan. what the fuck was that?
he chuckled. he actually chuckled as he poured a second cup of tea for himself. the shit was making fun of you.
after two long hours, you finally set the table; a platter of sliced mango and papaya, a bowl of warm pão francês with a side of butter and jam spreads, a plate of tapioca pancakes, filled with nutella. you finished the table with another plate of pão de queijo, cheese-filled heavenly balls of dough, and a ceramic jug of fresh-squeezed orange juice.
zoe and moblit entered the kitchen right on time, eyes lighting up at the assortment of food. levi excused himself, but zoe easily lifted him up and shoved him back in his chair. you couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, trying -and failing- to disguise with a cough.
after explaining the brazilian-inspired recipes, everyone digged in.
“ha-ha. levi’s eating balls.” zoe giggled, shoving half a pancake in her mouth. levi shot a glare her way.
“zoe.” moblit pleaded, knowing a simple word from her could result in one of levi’s outbreaks. zoe took one of the cheese-stuffed balls, and when levi opened his mouth to speak, shoved it between his teeth.
everyone stared at him. he was trying to be serious, but it was impossible with a ball keeping his mouth half-open. you muffled a gasp with your palm and looked at your lap, the table shaking from you keeping your laughter in. now it was your turn to be stared at from the rest of the table.
when you finally composed yourself, you looked up at levi. he had already chewed the dough ball and was now, while keeping eye contact, licking his thumb and then his pointer finger tantalisingly slow. a foot found it’s way against your calf, stroking it and gradually heading north. you shoved your legs shut and looked away flustered. he had won this one.
“turn off the porn.” zoe whispered to moblit, but both you and levi caught the comment.
you and zoe were left alone in the kitchen to clean up. she was washing the dishes, you were putting away the leftovers.
“levi and petra are still together, you know,” she started and you gave her a warning look, “but i’m pretty sure it’s over.”
“okay.” you shrugged.
“he wants to have sex with you.”
“zoe!”
“what?” she continued humming a song from an infomercial. you pulled saran wrap over a half-cut mango and sighed.
“levi does not want to have sex with me. we just started getting along.”
“he was about to have sex with your leg.”
“how did you know about that?” you looked at her with horror. zoe had this weird aura around her, and she always knew what you were thinking. at times you thought maybe she was a psychic. a low, evil laugh came out of her lips as she patted her wet hands on her skirt.
“because he thought my leg was yours at first.”
you had a moment where you both stared at the floor before looking at each other and bursting out laughing.
you were struggling to carry an unfinished painting, your easel and supplies to the terrace, when levi stepped out of his bedroom, a female voice yelling behind him in french. he shut the door and leaned back on it with a sigh. he looked so tortured, with his eyes shut close and his chest moving up and down with every sharp breath, as the female screamed behind the door. you pretended not to notice him and headed up the stairs.
“you’re going to fall.” he called out and walked up to you. he was right, but you were stubborn. looking down at your painting, you grinned.
“help me then.” you gave him the canvas. the back of it wrote self portrait and levi was instantly intrigued. you climbed the stairs with levi right behind you. any moment now…
levi stumbled on the very last step, almost falling on the floor. you looked back, and he quickly turned the canvas back around, cheeks rosy and eyes shifting around the ceiling.
“thanks, ackerman.” you placed your easel down and placed the canvas on it, admiring your work. a detailed silhouette on a mattress. the rest of the background was undefined, but the portrait of your naked body was finished, and it was engraved in levi’s brain for the rest of the day.
the afternoon rush hour had gone smoothly, even with levi’s mysterious absence. your mind wandered to petra; they were obviously fighting earlier that day, and she sounded furious. you wondered if she knew about the little…whatever it was, between you and levi. you really doubted it, however; nothing was happening, just a stupid act in the moment. as if on cue, levi stepped in. you suddenly were very interested in the dainty porcelain tea cups you had on display. levi worked around you as he got ready for his shift. you both jumped away when your pinkies touched under the bar.
“you can go now.”
“i’m working for another five hours.” you were not about to lose a day’s pay just because levi didn’t want you around.
“i have this covered.”
“it’s fine, ackerman,” he glared at you at the use of his last name, “i won’t pull any self portraits from behind the fridge.” you took a step back and grinned when levi looked away.
you worked in sync for a while longer, trying not to touch one another. what was this weird tension and when did it start? if levi didn’t basically try to fuck your leg that morning, none of this would be happening; you would still be bickering and muttering curses. you would definitely not be looking at his jean-clad ass and thick thighs. what kind of sorcery was this that they looked so muscly, even under jeans?
“i’m taking my break!” you yelled behind you before leaving through the back door. levi shook his head and even contemplated slapping himself as he watched your hips swing with your step.
you were mindlessly scrolling on your phone, eating a sandwich from the deli around the corner, when you heard commotion from inside the café. you grabbed your stuff from the bench and walked back inside.
petra, despite her petite appearance, was making a scene in the middle of the café. levi had his arms crossed against his chest and was staring at her, an empty look in his eyes. you were pretty sure that made petra even angrier.
despite your broken french knowledge, you caught a few phrases; ‘emotionless’ ‘cheap bastard’.
the only words levi spoke at the girl, you understood loud and clear.
“get the fuck out.” a few tears escaped petra’s eyes and your heart broke for her. she could tell she wasn’t welcome anymore, so she gathered her bag and jacket and ran out.
zoe and moblit had a fair share of stories with levi getting mad, frustrated, furious. they all ended in someone getting punched. but no, this. this is what levi actually was like when furious. he appeared emotionless to the naked eye, but if you put him under a microscope, you could see his chest puff in and out frantically, his nostrils flare, a bead of sweat fall down the vein popping on his forehead.
levi apologised to the customers with a polite smile, looking around before his eyes fell on you. you gave him a sympathetic smile before returning to your spot inside the bar.
“take a break.” you told him, but he just shook his head no. “you can’t even make tea, your hands are trembling.”
“i’m fine.” he muttered, hissing when the mug slipped from his hand, splashing the burning liquid all over his front. he slammed the mug down, lifting his hands to his temples and massaging them as hard as he could.
“are you trying to give yourself a lobotomy?” you took his wrists in your hands and turned him around, so his back was to the customers. “let me clean this up.”
you took a damp towel and lifted it to his chest, patting down the stain on his white shirt. you trailed down to his stomach, the pads of your fingers grazing his belt. he swiftly grabbed your wrist, looking at you from behind his black hair.
“stop.” he choked out. you nodded and took a step back, eyeing him from the top to the bottom. “i-i’m going to take my break now.” levi muttered and you noticed he held his bag over his crotch as he walked to the back room.
you danced around with a giggle as you prepared the next order. this one felt a little bittersweet after petra’s outburst, but it was still a victory for you.
levi 1 - y/n 2
taglist: @belovedackerman @bibemiiu @thisisketchy @ch-4-s-3 @kingfleury (bold can’t be tagged. lmk if you changed your user!)
#aot x reader#aot smut#attack on titan x reader#aot x reader smut#attack on titan smut#attack on titan#levi ackerman x reader#levi x reader#attack on titan fluff#levi ackerman fluff#levi x reader fluff#levi x reader smut#levi ackerman x you#levi ackerman au#aot modern au#hange zoe#hange x moblit#moblit berner
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Jaime Reyes sucks at driving and here's why
... What's up, Jaime? Is that your girlfriend? Why don't you have a car?
His old man runs a garage and he doesn't have a car ...
(Panel from Blue Beetle (2006) #26)
Throughout the 2006 series we seldom see Jaime drive. He's always carpooled with Brenda and Paco to school, and even after he becomes Blue Beetle full-time it's Paco who drives him around on missions. Which makes sense, considering he got the scarab at 16, leaving him little incentive to learn to drive and drive well when he could just fly. In issue #26 we see him do exactly that: he commutes to a family gathering by flying in in his bugsuit.
So Jaime is not the best driver. He probably drove Once™ and is barred from the driver's seat by everyone from El Paso to his Titans friend group. But no, it's not what you're thinking. He can drive. He just drives like a grandpa. Three miles an hour below the speed limit at all times, uses his blinkers religiously, and waits way too long to make turns because he doesn't trust that the gap in traffic is long enough. He gets to a busy junction and starts sweating bullets. The Scarab is screaming in his head about imminent danger. He's trying to read signals and Khaji tells him to just floor it. Everytime Jaime gets into a car the scarab is screaming about the stupidity of right of way in traffic laws.
The first time Jaime borrows the family car after the scarab fuses to his spine it goes like this:
Khaji: IF I WERE DRIVING WE WOULD HAVE ARRIVED 22 MINUTES AGO
Jaime: If you were driving we wouldn't have enough car left to arrive in!!!! not to mention all the pedestrian casualties!!!!
Jaime can't even help navigate the road with the scarab's built-in GPS system because roads don't make sense to Khaji and it never maps drivable routes.
Khaji: turn right in 500 feet
Jaime: khaji theres no road in 500 feet
Khaji: turn right in 200 feet
Jaime: khaji theres no road, reroute!!!
Khaji: turn right in 15 feet
Jaime: KHAJI IM NOT DRIVING THIS CAR THROUGH A WALMART, REROUTE
(dialogues courtesy of @lemontongues )
In conclusion, Jaime absolutely sucks at driving, thanks for coming to our ted talk
#blue beetle#jaime reyes#khaji da#Traci 13#dc headcanon#long post#Everyones like HOW CAN YOU FIGHT SPACE ALIENS ON A DAILY BASIS AND STILL PANIC ABOUT MERGING ONTO THE HIGHWAY??#and jaime is like KHAJI KEEPS TRYING TO GET ME TO HIT OTHER PEOPLE BEFORE THEY KILL US AND ALSO THIS IS MY MOM'S CAR :(((((#<< i didn't know how to fold that part into the post but YES. 100%#jaime reyes can't drive#dc txt#teen titans
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hot & heavy
chapter fourteen: stuck forever by the glue
neighbor!joel x f!reader
series masterlist
series rating: E (18+ MDNI)
series summary:
over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?
word count: 7.4k
warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, mariposa, etc.), feeling familial and self-pressure, established relationship, spanish cause joel is latino, soft joel, very minimal like sweetie possessive joel, struggling with self, discussion of parenting, this is honestly just an ooey gooey syrupy sweet chapter y'all
a/n: this is so wild. it's done! (basically....epilogue to come) i seriously can't express how much it means to me that y'all read and kept up with and cared about my little story. i have fallen in love with writing and i just really thank you all for everything you've given me! i feel so lucky to have so many incredible, talented, all-star humans reading something silly i've made. THANK YOU.
and an extra special thanks to el @northernbluess who has been such a big support throughout my process of writing this story. she's beta-read nearly every single chapter and has helped me so much in developing the characters and the story and just everything. can't write without you, el. love you!
alright, enough from me - enjoy joel & mariposa's ending! and please drop any thoughts or scenarios or milestones you want to see for them in the epilogue into my inbox!!!
“Fuck, oh shit, Joel!”
You’re whisper-yelling as you scramble to throw his comforter off of you, kicking it away from your feet and jumping out of bed. One arm moves up to cover your chest as you whirl around the room looking for your clothes. As you slip your panties up your legs and let them snap against your hips, Joel stirs awake enough to pick his head up, glancing around in a daze.
“What is happening? What’s wrong?” he groggily asks, turning over from lying on his tummy to his back, arm bending to rest against his forehead and shielding his eyes from the early summer morning light peeking through the curtains.
Puffing out a breath to blow the hair from your face, hands occupied with attempting to clasp your bra behind your back, you shoot him a look.
“Check the time,” you order flatly, nodding your chin to his alarm clock at the bedside.
After a delayed beat, Joel’s head turns, studying the display before his bed shoots back to look at you, arm dropped from his head. With his eyebrows raised and mouth formed into an ‘O’ shape, he chuckles quietly at your distress.
Amid your activities from the night before, much like the last week of nights spent with Joel, the alarm on his side had forgotten to be set. Normally, you would brush it off, so long as the two of you were up in time for work, which Sarah usually made sure of thanks to her promptness, even as a ten-year-old.
But today, no, today was a weekend and also the day of the neighborhood’s annual block party and summer barbecue. And you had promised — assured — your mother that you would be up and at ‘em early to help her prep all the food she promised to make and to help decorate the street and all the tables.
Joel had promised — assured — that he set the alarm last night before the two of you started fooling around, distraction imminent for the man with his wandering hands and blood pumping. Turns out, you were apparently too tempting, and too exhausting, of a time to focus on anything else.
“Darlin’, it’ll be fine. Doubt your mom has even noticed your absence, she’s probably so busy already she’s just fluttering around your house.” Joel’s face returns to a drowsy expression, one eyebrow quirking up for a moment as you angrily groan at your t-shirt when struggling to find the head hole with it pulled over your head all lopsided.
He rises from the bed, padding over to you and reaching up to pause your frantic hands. Slow moving, he rights the material and gently tugs it down, revealing your frustrating and pouty look.
Joel coaxes your arms out of their stubborn crossed position over your chest, aiding them into the holes and fully pulling the t-shirt down. Fingers graze the top of your panties from underneath your cotton shirt, satisfied smirk when he feels goosebumps rise.
“She may not notice, but my Dad, who’s probably doing nothing, will notice and tell my mom. And she’ll tell him to go downstairs and check on me.” You swat his hands away gently, stepping backward and turning your head this way and that way to find your shorts. “And if he goes downstairs, and I’m not there, but then magically appear minutes later from my studio, well, I think they’ll clock that something’s up.”
Thick arms wrap around your waist, freezing you in place. One hand gently grips the tip of your chin between his index and thumb, tilting your head to look into his eyes.
“It’ll be fine, Mari baby. You’ll get home and you’ll go upstairs and they won’t even know you were gone for a second.” Joel punctuates his reassurances with a kiss, rubbing slow circles in your lower back.
“You are extremely calm in this situation. Why aren’t you more stressed out than me?” you interrogate, raising one brow and pursing your lips. He chuckles and shrugs, incredibly nonchalant, before pecking your lips once more.
“S’cause I woke up with you next to me.” The grin is evident in his next kiss, pulling one from you no matter how much you fight it. “Plus, had some pretty great sex last night.”
“Oh my god, okay, I’m leaving. Such an idiot—” you smack his arm playfully and untangle from his arms, “ruining a perfectly sweet, wholesome moment.”
“Didn’t ruin anything. Y’know you were thinkin’ the same thing,” he counters as he throws on boxers, following you out of the bedroom and down the stairs.
You glance over your shoulder, shooting him an eye roll while biting back a smile. Padding quickly into the kitchen, you slip your shoes on from where they sit next to the back door, turning toward Joel in a rush as he strides over to you. Still sleepy eyes take you in, grabby hands finding your waist and pulling you in tight to his chest while you groan.
“J, baby, I gotta go.” He buries his head in your neck, shaking it enough for his messy curls to brush against your skin in a tickle. “I’ll see you later, okay? We jus’ have to make it through the party, and then I’m all yours. Deal?”
Lifting his head with an elongated sigh, he nods subtly and sneaks a quick kiss, “Deal. But I kind of don’t want to share you with the whole neighborhood tonight. Wish it was jus’ you and me.”
“Me too, baby, but we’ll survive. We’ve made it this long, haven’t we?” Fingers glide through his hair, pushing it up off his forehead. Before you step back and reach for the door, he pulls you in again, one hand finding your jaw to hold you there as he gives you a slow, syrupy, toe-curling kiss. The linger of it tickles your lips when he pulls away, a drowsy, beaming smile filling his face.
“Love you, Mari baby. See you later.”
“Love you more, J. See y’all later.” One last effort breaks you free of him, slipping out the door with him still on your tail, large palm making contact with your ass in a smack. A look back at him gives you a wink and smirk in return, Joel’s wide frame filling the threshold as you descend his deck stairs and scurry across your lawn to make it home in time.
God, you’re too old to be sneaking around with your boyfriend.
But damn, if he doesn’t make it fun.
Late afternoon, when the sticky, humid air has cooled down only fractions from the peak of the day, the whole onslaught of the neighborhood gathers on your cul-de-sac. Lawn games litter front yards of everyone around, the food tables set up between your driveway and Joel’s. Two grills are lit and manned on the asphalt in front of your garage, barely enough space to cook all the food that could feed an entire army, plus all of your neighbors.
The skirt of your baby blue sundress swishes against your thighs as you flutter around the folding tables set out to frame the street. Borrowed, mismatched tablecloths have been blanketed over the surfaces, and it’s been your latest task to arrange simple centerpieces of wildflowers from your garden beds built by Joel, and vases pulled from the backs of cabinets in your house. With every inch of your movement, your eyes flicker to track Joel’s, licking your lips as you watch the fabric of his muted blue t-shirt pull and strain across his shoulder blades. The hair at the back of his neck curled more from the perspiration that he was building while carrying coolers full of ice, beer, sodas, and water all about the street.
While putting the finishing touches on the last centerpiece, it seems that when you look up again, the whole neighborhood has shown up all at once. Joel’s gone from your line of sight, and you resign to finding the nearest cold beer and being pulled into a conversation with Mrs. Clarke and some of her book club ladies from the street over that you don’t know as well. They fuss over you, admiring your dress and your hair, and commenting repeatedly about ‘how gorgeous and youthful’ you are. As you open your mouth to accept the compliments again with a polite ‘thank you’, a familiar voice cuts in from over your shoulder.
“Excuse me, ladies, I hate to interrupt y’all but I was hoping to steal her away for a bit. Kind of need a partner for some cornhole and we’ve got a winning streak to maintain.” Joel shoots all of the older women a charming grin when you turn to your side to see him, his eyes finding yours for a split second.
“Oh, god, another one of you youngin’ neighbors! I have been loving to see so many new folks move in and all you kids that have returned. It is so lovely,” Mrs. Clarke shares, nodding her head with a mischievous grin toward Joel, “Y’know, y’all are pretty handsome together. Maybe it’s just 'cause y’all are young and beautiful still!”
Mrs. Clarke and the other women laugh, a wide smile on your face as you shake your head, “C’mon, Mrs. Clarke, you’re beautiful — Joel’s actually been tellin’ me he’s got a crush on a neighbor, my bets are on you.”
She laughs again, waving off the compliments, “Well I wouldn’t go gambling if that’s how you bet, sugar. I think you’d be at the top of all the lists if you ask everyone here; you’ve been the talk of the neighborhood since you came back from that big ol’ city you were in. Everybody’s been saying how you are still such a sweet girl, but I can tell something’s different. In a good way.”
She shoots you a wink and you soak in the sentiments, looking over to Joel when he cuts in again.
“I think I’d agree with ya, ma’am. Definitely different in a good way. Like whiskey in a teacup.” The look in his eyes is filled with the silent affection that his words coil around, saying all that he can’t say at the moment. Instead, he wraps up the conversation for you, thanking the four women before letting you step ahead of him, his hand barely ghosting over your back in what would look to be an innocent gesture.
“Now did you really want to play bags or was that just an excuse?” you tease, taking a sip of your drink while you two wander over to the game set up in the grass.
Joel shrugs, smile toying at his lips, “Had to be able to find a way to sweet talk my crush now, didn’t I?”
A roll of your eyes and growing smirk encourages him, nudging your side with his elbow, “Y’think Mrs. Clarke is gonna go around gossipin’ about us when the whole neighborhood finds out I’ve got a crush on you and not her?”
“Oh definitely. Lived here my whole life, that woman knows everybody’s business before they know it themselves. Don’t be surprised if she’s told everybody you’re in love with me by the time this evening’s wrappin’ up.” Squatting down, Joel gathers up the bean bags from the surface of the handbuilt gameboards, handing you the green while he takes the yellow.
As he deposits them one by one in your open palm, he shoots you a genuine, shy smile. “Well, wouldn’t be a lie so I guess it would jus’ help me out. Maybe we should tell Mrs. Clarke and then everybody will know tonight.”
“Haha. Very funny, Miller,” you reply dryly, shooting him a playfully annoyed look before starting the game between the two of you.
The back-and-forth flows easily for the two of you, both in gameplay and banter. At the game-point throw, you sink it in the hole, cheering for yourself when you nail the score of exactly twenty-one. Joel tosses his own, flicking his wrist only slightly at the last moment to scratch the throw, leaving you victorious. He smiles to himself as he watches you eagerly clap for yourself, turning to him and nodding toward the spread of food that was finally laid out.
You’re so beautiful.
The look you’re giving him sends a jolt into his spine, fuzzing his brain while the butterfly in his chest rapidly pumps its wings.
“C’mon, let's eat. All that losin’ probably worked up an appetite for you.” Without clasping around his, your hand brushes your fingers against the back of his palm. The softness leaves an itch on his skin, his nerves simply jumping for the chance to touch you. You lead confidently while he trails behind in your wake, observing as everyone sends you a smile or a greeting that you return right back with a glow.
He’d follow you anywhere.
And he knows how damn lucky he is that you’re willing to let him.
It’s what he can’t help but continue to think about as the night rolls on, watching you from his place at a table with a handful of the guys from the neighborhood, including your dad and brother, and Tommy, who stopped over after his own plans for the evening went belly up. While he nurses the beer from the glass bottle in his hand, you are bouncing with a baby on your hip to the beat of the song playing over the speakers. It’s the kid you nanny, having taken her from her parents to let them eat and enjoy a moment of calmness with everyone while you keep the young one entertained.
The happy baby babbles in your arms as you dance with her subtly, standing in a small group of other neighbors. It’s so natural for you, the way you’re nurturing and easily adapting to having a little human attached to your side. He can’t shake the way his body is begging him to get up and go over to you, wanting to help you, to play pretend for a moment that it’s an addition to your little family in your arms.
He nearly stumbles over himself to get out of his seat when Sarah pulls you away from the group, thanking his daughter inside his head for giving him the perfect excuse to be close to you in the moment. Tommy chuckles to himself when he follows where Joel’s gaze is aimed, shaking his head subtly at his older brother’s obvious stare.
Joel doesn’t pay him any mind as he walks over toward you and Sarah, brushing against your side as he folds forward at his waist to press a kiss to the top of his daughter’s curly hair. The baby is babbling again in your arms, wiggling and mouthing on her hand while she stares at Joel. He shoots her a smile, opening and closing his fingers in a loose fist to wave.
“Hey there, little one. Now who’s this?” he asks, eyes finding your face while you grin at the happy baby girl in your arms.
“This is Amelia. She’s Brian and Steph’s daughter, the one I’ve been nannying this summer since Steph’s gone back to work,” you adjust her again and Joel nods, reaching out absentmindedly to lay a hand on Sarah’s head.
“Isn’t she so cute, Daddy?” Sarah laughs quietly when Amelia squeals excitedly. Her hand tugs on Joel’s shirt to grab his attention back from staring at you, eyebrows raised, and the same look on her face that she gets when she desperately wants a toy from the store. “I want to get a baby!”
He nearly chokes on his breath when he rushes to respond, hearing your quiet giggle as he coughs before clearing his throat. Addressing Sarah, he gives her an understanding smile, “Babies are pretty cute, aren’t they? But you’ll need to be much, much older until you can get a baby, mija. Like you’ll need to be Posey’s age or even better, you can be Daddy’s age and get a baby for yourself, alright?”
“That’s not very fun. You’re old, I don’t wanna wait that long. It’s like an eternity,” she replies bluntly, causing you to laugh and Joel to shoot you a warning look before he returns to Sarah.
“Trust me, Bug, it’s not that long in the grand scheme of things. Before I know it, you’ll be out of my house and I’ll be even more ancient, apparently, and you’ll have your own babies. All in due time, mija. Don’t wish away your life.” He pats her curls while she stands, thought clearly turning in her head.
A lightbulb goes off and she gasps, clapping her hands together as she says only to the two of you, “I know! You can get another baby, Daddy, and then I’ll have a cute one to play with. You can get one with Posey.”
Sarah beams with what seems like a completely genius idea to her, waiting for a response or a plan of action to get this all set in motion for her. You laugh again, stepping in when Joel can’t seem to find the right words to say.
He doesn’t want to outwardly deny it. Definitely doesn’t want you to think that is something he wouldn’t want. He’s told you as much.
But he also doesn’t want to step in any hot water, doesn’t want to put his foot in his mouth if it really is something you haven’t thought about much.
“That is such a smart idea, Sare-Bear,” you grin comfortingly and reach out a free hand to brush her hair back, “Y’know who else you could ask to have a baby? Uncle Tommy. Why don’t you go ask him why he doesn’t have a girlfriend so that he can give you a cousin?”
Sarah giggles and matches your mischievous energy, scampering off to go wholesomely harass her uncle. You turn to Joel, your face twisting into curiosity when you can’t read the look on his face.
“What? Should I have explained where babies come from to her or something instead? Was it a bad idea to sick her on Tommy?”
“No, not at all. To answer both your questions,” he bites back from absolutely beaming, turning his gaze to baby Amelia’s chubby cheeks when his voice drops to a level only audible to you standing inches from him, “Would you?”
“Would I what?” Your head tilts to the side, adjusting Amelia on your hip and hiking her up. Joel opens his mouth to clarify his question when Steph sidles up next to you, thanking you profusely while she takes her daughter back into her arms. The interaction warms Joel’s blood in his veins, the wings of the butterfly pushing the rattle of nerves into his throat.
Everyone loves you so much here, and you really do have love for everyone.
A fucking solid gold heart inside of you and Joel can’t believe you’ve given even a piece, a sliver, of it to him to safeguard.
Turning your attention back to him when the two of you are left alone, you lift the corner of your lip up in an anxious comfort, “So, would I what?”
“Would you have a kid? With me. Would you have a kid with me?” It all rushes out, words blending together but you understand all the same. A quiet laugh rolls from your chest, skyrocketing his worry in the moment before you shake your head and give his bicep a quick, but reassuring squeeze.
“Course I would, J. Don’t think anything would make me happier.” Your eyes sparkle in the setting sunlight, the solid and steady beat of his heart surely heard over the music and noise by everyone around you both. Pressing his lips together to restrain himself, he nods slowly and attempts to remain casual.
“I wanna kiss you so fucking much right now, Mari.”
“I want that, too. But I think Mrs. Clarke would be jealous. Stealin’ you away from her.” The joke breaks the tension, sending him into a small fit of laughter, shaking his head at your ridiculousness.
“Guess I better go ask Mrs. Clarke the same question then, huh? Keep my options open.”
“Better go. Give her enough time to tell Mr. Clarke she’s running away with the neighbor forty years younger than her.”
“Definitely think that’d go over better than you, the beloved, sweet neighborhood girl, running away with me.”
“Oh hush, doesn’t matter how well it’d go over. Jus’ matters if we can run fast enough away from the angry mob that’s gonna come after ya.” You wink and laugh again, your head shaking back and forth before it whips in the direction of your mom calling your name. Another soft and subtle touch is fleetingly felt against his skin, turning over your shoulder to mouth a quick ‘love you’ to him as you walk away.
He returns it before searching around to fill his hands before returning back to the table and sitting down next to his brother. Joel sets the full beer bottle next to his half-full one, eyes still trained on you before Tommy grabs his attention with a hard jab to his side and snags the full beer.
“So why the hell is my niece asking me when I’m gonna get a girlfriend so I can have a baby?”
Night has overtaken the sky, with sprinklings of stars and a waxing moon as its centerpieces. Everyone along the road has turned on their porch lights, extra portable camping lights, and hanging lanterns brought out to make enough light to continue the party. The handful of neighborhood kids run around to catch fireflies while the adults either stand around in conversations or gather in the open space between all of the tables to dance. Your parents, ever the hosts that they are, have popped back into the house to gather more drinks and desserts for everyone. Wrapped up in a chat about a potential hire for a job with a guy from a few streets over, Joel hasn’t paid mind to where you’re at or if Sarah’s running along with the other kids. He shakes the man’s hand and promises to stop by when he can during the week to check out exactly what the job would entail and if his guys can get it done.
Turning away, the sight of you is perfectly framed by warm lights, a tunnel of everything else fading away while he observes you from across the street. The mop of curls he loves dearly bounces around with you, your hands holding Sarah’s and spinning her around the dancefloor. His daughter’s laughter hits his ears over the sound of the music, tugging a smile onto his face that nearly matches your beaming grin.
This whole night, he hasn’t been able to stay away from you long. And he hasn’t been able to shake the feeling of how desperate he is to stay in your pull, to be able to make you smile and laugh, to make you happy.
You do so much for others, offering a hand or making them smile with your genuine care and humor. Everyone is so drawn to you, he’s not the only one who wants to have you around. And he knows about what you’re going through behind closed doors, the things you tell him about when no one else will listen or understand. The same things he heard from you when you were thousands of miles away, voice crackling over the phone. All he wants to do is to be there for you, to show you the same kindness that you show him, that you show everyone you encounter.
Ever since he met you, he’s never wanted to be apart from you. But he didn’t trust himself not to make selfish decisions, so he pushed you away that first summer, and let you go the second. Now, with no endings in sight at the end of summer, anything is possible.
One thing’s for sure though — he’s tired of hiding.
All it does is take up more energy that he could be giving to you, to Sarah, to a better future for all of you.
And fuck’s sake, if he doesn’t want everyone to know that you chose him. The best person he knows — has ever known — chose him and continues to choose him, to forgive him, to love him. He doesn’t know what the future holds, doesn’t know what everything will look like for y’all in a week, in a year, in a decade, but all he can say is that whatever it all entails, however much it scares him, he wants you there by his side. He needs you.
Without a second thought, he moves toward you as the song changes, depositing his nearly empty drink on the nearest table. Swiping his clammy hands on his jeans as he walks, he takes a deep breath before he taps you on the shoulder. He shoots Sarah a wink over your shoulder while you turn around, her giggle bringing a lopsided grin to his face.
“Oh, Joel, what’s up?” you ask casually, cocking an eyebrow up in confusion.
He addresses Sarah in the next moment, putting on a formal tone and clearing his throat, “Excuse me, Miss Sarah, but would you mind if I steal Mariposa away for a dance?”
“Of course not, Daddy!” she grins widely, showing off her missing tooth that came out a few nights ago, “Have fun, Posey!”
Sarah scurries off to find her friends from the neighborhood, and Joel holds his hand out with a soft smirk. Utterly puzzled, you glance around before focusing back on Joel at the sound of his voice.
“May I have this dance, Mari?”
You’re surprised, stumbling out a response as you tentatively place your hand in his, “Yes, I mean — yes, but — What are you doing, J?”
With your hand in his, he leads you further into the couples dancing along to the sweetly slow love song playing. In the middle, he stops and faces you, keeping your hand in his, holding them up close with a bent elbow while his other finds your waist and pulls you in closer. The two of you start to sway and Joel’s lips settle next to your ear while you dance.
“Joel, everyone’s staring…and talking amongst themselves. What are you doing?” you ask in a hushed voice, pulling away to look into his eyes. Anxiety flashes in yours and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze before replying.
“M’letting go, mi amor. Let ‘em stare,” he replies, the corners of his lips rising in a tender grin. He slips his hand from yours, fingers trailing down your arm to bring it to rest on his shoulder like your other one. Both of his hands spread across your hips, pressing into the fabric of your dress and pushing around to settle at your lower back.
“But they’re gonna start spreading shit and I know you weren’t ready before to tell anyone else — my parents might be around, J. I don’t want you to do this if you aren’t ready, or if you’re just doing this for me.”
He leans closer, tilting his head down to lay his forehead against yours. Holding your eyes, he speaks quietly, voice rasping with the strain of the volume and the emotion coating his words, “El amor es ciego, pero los vecinos no. (Love is blind, but the neighbors aren’t.) There’s always going to be people to gossip, or to whisper about us. All that matters to me is what you think, and how you feel. I want to be able to tell everyone that you’re mine, and I’m yours. I’m so lucky, and I am so proud to be your partner in life, Mari baby. M’tired of trying to predict what the future’s gonna be for us, and m’tired of trying to keep the reality of life away from us. Truth is, I don’t think there’s anything that life could throw at me or you that we couldn’t get through together. I need you there, always, sweet girl. Todo va a salir bien. Everything will work out.”
“I-God, I don’t even know what to say…” Tears well at your waterline, none daring to fall over the edge while you attempt to remain composed for the crowd that is surely watching everything happening. “All I can think about is how much I love you, Joel. And I want all of the same things, and I know that with you, we can handle whatever life has planned for us.”
“I love you too, baby. Te amo siempre, mi Mariposa. (I love you always, my Mariposa).”
The song’s last few notes fade out, some of the couples filtering out of the dance floor when the music changes over. After another short peck from Joel, the bubble the two of you were in dissolves when Sarah runs up, asking Joel if she can have another cookie. He gives her the quick go-ahead, watching her rush off as quickly as she came, and suddenly you’re reminded you’re in the middle of the whole neighborhood.
No one says anything as you lead Joel away, hand-in-hand. But a few looks are exchanged and the eyes of everyone feel hot on your neck. A glance around proves your parents aren’t outside still, and your stomach flips with the real possibility that someone, particularly nosey neighbors, may have beaten you to the punch in terms of telling them about you and Joel.
Tugging him from a good few steps ahead, Joel widens his strides to catch up easily as you beeline toward your garage, the mechanical door wide open for people to come and go as needed. You stop in your tracks right in front of the door to the inside, taking a deep breath before turning around to face Joel.
“Alright, it’s now or never, J. Either we’re the ones to tell our parents, or they find out from Mrs. Clarke’s book club that we were on the dancefloor and kissin’ each other and—”
Joel interrupts your ramblings with a gentle chuckle, tilting his head to the side as he looks over your face before locking his eyes with yours.
“So are we the ones meant to be saying we were on the dancefloor and kissin’ each other?” he asks with a smirk, one eyebrow raising in question.
“Oh, c’mon, Joel.”
“M’kiddin’, Mari. It’s now or never, and I am not a man that says never. So lead the way, sweet girl.” He gestures to the door behind you, a genuine smile on his face quelling your heightened nerves.
If you could read his mind, you know he’s freaking out right now.
But no, instead he’s keeping it cool on the outside, trying to be a calming presence for your own anxious thoughts.
Can’t help but ask himself questions. What if your parents get upset or angry? What if they dismiss it, not believing that it would ever work between the two of them? What if they take it out on you? It’s not your fault that they didn’t find out earlier — would they hate him if he defends you in an argument? What if they don’t think he is good enough for you?
He has his own doubts, but hearing it from your parents would crush him.
You walk ahead of him, holding onto his hand while you walk inside and through your empty living room. He drops his hand from yours right on the threshold of your kitchen and gives you a tight smile when you look back at him. Wiping his clammy hands on his jeans, he takes a deep breath before following you into the room.
Clearing your throat to grab your parents' attention, you saddle up to the island and lean forward with your elbows on the cool countertops. Joel stands next to you, a respectable distance away but you feel the itch to bring him closer. Your dad turns around first, pausing his task of filling a cooler with ice from the freezer.
“Hey there, kiddo. Oh, and heya, Miller! Y’all havin’ a good time tonight? Need anything?”
“Or are y’all bein’ sweethearts and have come inside to help us with all this?” Your mom nods over her shoulder to the rest of the desserts plated across the counters.
She turns around next after washing her hands at the kitchen sink, patting them dry with a towel before she crosses the small walkway to settle on the other side of the island. Joel shakes his head when you’re silent for a moment, giving both of your parents a smile.
“No, don’t need anything. And I would be happy to help, ma’am—” Joel ever so politely offers before you interrupt him.
“I, uh, I actually wanted to talk to y’all about something.” Your voice wavers only slightly, a stuttering sound coming from your throat as you clear it again. One of your mom’s eyebrows raises in curiosity, much more sprawling thoughts happening in the subtle twitches of her eyes as she looks at your face, then at Joel’s, and back to you.
Your dad is a bit oblivious.
“Joel and I will leave ya to it, y’all can fill me in later,” he faces Joel, nodding toward the direction of the door and closing the top of the cooler he packed full of ice a minute ago. Joel opens his mouth to respond when you fill in again quickly, holding a hand up to stop your dad’s movements.
“No, um, actually, it’s better if you’re both here and Joel’s here ‘cause, well…” A flip of your stomach nearly sends your dinner back up, but you swallow it down and lock your eyes on your hands as you finally spill the secret you’ve kept for the last three summers.
“Joel and I are together. Like in a relationship. A serious one.” You kept adding clarifications to fill the silence that’s fallen over the room, and Joel steps closer, reaching a hand up to rest on your back between your shoulder blades. He braces for ridicule, eyes trained on you as you keep yours on your hands.
Nothing. Your parents are saying nothing.
And you cannot take the silence anymore, so you begin to recount it all from the first summer, meeting him and getting to know him — sparing the details of the two of you…getting together. The short month-long second summer, Joel holding out his hope for you to stay but eventually letting you go. The year between that time and the beginning of this summer, infrequent phone calls and life updates. And finally, this summer, when you came back with no end in sight and nothing holding the two of you back. Given the chance to finally give it a proper go, and falling even more in love with him than you thought you could love anyone.
Your eyes flick to Joel’s as you confess that, and he returns the sentiment with a warm smile and his hand rubbing slow circles against the bare skin of your back exposed by your thinly-strapped dress.
God, you really do love him.
So much so, it occurs to you that it doesn’t really matter what comes after this. You choose him, and he’s chosen you, and your family would have to accept it. You’ve spent too much time without him in your life, completely, and there isn’t going to be another summer ending in heartbreak.
At the end of your three-summer abridged summary, Joel turns toward your parents, speaking up for himself. “I just—I want to tell you both that I care very much about your daughter. I love her dearly, and my life’s gotten astronomically better since she stepped into it. Mine and Sarah’s. You’ve raised an incredible woman, someone who is kind but never lets anyone push her around. A complete force.” Joel turns back to you, a growing, shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “I can only hope that Sarah gets the same fierceness and is as self-willed as you. I’ve said it before, but you’ve got a golden heart. You’re magic.”
The four of you talk it through, fielding their questions and small concerns as best as you can to reassure them. They share a look before your mom speaks, taking a deep breath that lifts and drops her shoulders.
“We can’t say that it’s not going to be an adjustment. I mean, dropping this all on us after not telling us for so long is a lot to process—”
“Of course, of course. I should’ve said something earlier, I’m sorry.”
“No, no. Don’t apologize. I just…Did you feel like you couldn’t talk to us about it or something, sweetie?” There’s a thickness in your mom’s voice, one that makes your chest ache.
“Oh, mom, no. It wasn’t like that, I—”
“I was the nervous one. I asked for more time before we told you this summer. I know how extraordinary your daughter is; she is definitely too good for me, and I was real nervous that you wouldn’t approve. I mean, I definitely have a different life than probably what you pictured. But I want to promise you both that I am proving myself every day to her. I always want to be better.”
To your surprise, your dad cuts in before you or your mom can say anything.
“You’re right. Our daughter is extraordinary…” He paused, continuing, “But you’re a good man, Joel. Trustworthy, dependable, respectful. And you very clearly love our daughter. There’s nothing more I could ask of someone for her. So long as she has a good, happy life, I’m content.”
Joel exchanges a relieved smile with your dad, your focus on your mom again as one arm snakes around Joel’s back to hold you closer.
“Your dad said it. If you’re happy, honey, then we’re happy…” She studies the two of you with tender care in her eyes, holding her hands to her chest before releasing them with a content sigh. “And I mean, I knew.”
Immediately, your brow furrows with confusion and Joel laughs, holding it back when you shoot him a warning look. Returning to your mom, you raise a question in response, “I’m sorry, you knew? How did you know?”
“Well, nothing was ever confirmed. But I did mention to your father quite a few times how I caught you sneaking glances and smiles toward Joel.” She directs the next question to your dad, whose focus has been lost on the plate of desserts in front of him, “And, how often did I mention to you catching Joel looking at her like all of the sunlight was radiating from her? Like he was completely head over heels.”
“Oh, all the time,” your dad answers nonchalantly. You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief, Joel’s laughter bubbling over while he tugs you into his side and presses a kiss to the top of your head.
“To be honest, I thought maybe he was just in love with you and you were either oblivious or waiting for him to say something. Glad to hear that I was right!” she jests, laughing to herself and exhaling dramatically.
“So does this mean I can get my renovations done with a discount?” Your dad tilts his head up to look directly at Joel who holds a hand up in oath.
“Free labor from me always, sir. Can’t promise the discount for Tommy’s help, though.”
“Oh god, Dad, seriously?” you groan, rolling your head back while Joel looks on with a smile.
‘What? What’s wrong with asking that, kiddo?” Once again oblivious, your mom waves him off to drag the cooler of drinks outside. When he’s gone from the kitchen, she rounds the island, beaming with a grin.
“Well, I just can’t wait to already live next to my grandbabies! Don’t even need to move to be any closer, unless we move in with y’all into somewhere bigger—”
“Alright, Mom, I think the party’s probably missin’ these desserts, yeah?” You usher her by handing her a tray. She gives you a motherly eye roll before resigning her thoughts and taking the plate.
“Fine, fine, I’m going!” She shuffles in her sandals before glancing back at the edge of the threshold, “We really are happy for y’all.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Oh, Joel, c’mon. You’re part of the family now, call me Jen. And you can call her dad Mark, even if he gives you shit for it, he’s just trying to make you nervous. And then tell me, I’ll give him shit right back.”
At the click of the door shutting behind your parents, you face him and grin ecstatically, clasping your hands together. Joel’s shoulders relax with a sigh and your arms hook around his neck. He scoops you up in a hug, laughing when you shriek excitedly. Spinning the two of you around in a small circle, he settles still again, eyes locking with yours as a wide smile replaces his once apprehensive expression.
Joel nudges your nose with his, slow, warm breaths exchanged in the closeness before he kisses you. Slow, delicate, light melting into fervor — hot and heavy with all your love for each other.
Breathless, you pull away and he chases your lips for a chaste kiss, pressing his forehead against yours while you both start to laugh quietly.
“What a summer, huh?” you ask, another fit of laughter leaving your mouth.
“Definitely was a fun summer, sweetheart. And the last two, too.” Joel shakes his head, thumb brushing your cheek as he grins back at you, “Can’t wait to have all my summers with you, Mariposa.”
An ache is felt in your cheeks from smiling, but the dull pain pales in comparison to the all-over lightness; adrenaline and excitement make you feel as if you’re buzzing head to toe. Stealing another kiss from Joel, you feel him grin against your lips. Breathy chuckles fill the space between you when you pull away, tilting your head back in his hand to see more of his face.
“Wanna dance, J?”
“With you? Anytime, Mari baby. Lead the way.” He nods toward the door, taking your hand and following you closely as you head back to the party. Coming back out, all the eyes and whispers aren’t feeling like heat against your skin, instead the warmth of Joel’s palm grounds you and sends a shiver down your spine. He takes the lead in the moment, stepping ahead when you falter for a second and pulling you to the middle of the asphalt-turned-dancefloor.
The ever-so-familiar piano trills, along with the bright, smooth voice of Don McLean start to play out on the speakers, bringing wide smiles to both of your faces. As the beat picks up, Joel starts singing along, taking your hands from his shoulders and spinning you around as if you were swing dancing.
Both of you were clumsy, tripping over each other, but your laughter only brought brilliant, broad grins to your faces. The rest of the party fell away — it was only you and Joel, and all the memories that this song brought back.
The skirt of your dress kicks up as he spins you around and around, pulling you into his chest and swaying with you for the entire song, his deep and drawling voice singing along to the lyrics and sending goosebumps spreading across your skin despite the humid, sticky heat of the night. His steps slow down at the end, turning you both in one final, exaggerated circle before settling on the last note.
Joel looks down at you, adoration glinting in his eyes and his dimple showing as his mouth holds his smile. One of your hands slips away from his, reaching up to skim your fingers along his patchy beard and rest at the side of his neck. With another song turning over on the speakers, Joel leans down and catches your lips in a supple kiss. It’s slow and saccharine, savoring the taste of you on his tongue before he pulls away, waiting with bated breath.
You break the moment with a sweet, melodic laugh and a shake of your head.
“Of course, that song came on. Did you plan all this, Miller?” you interrogate playfully, the world still tunneled between the two of you.
“Absolutely not. But pretty serendipitous, yeah? Guess we should take that as a sign. Right person, right time. Finally.” His response gives you another laugh, nodding before going in for another short kiss.
“Yeah, think it’s safe to say it's the right time, finally. Was always the right person.”
“You can say that again, Mari baby.”
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El Filibusterismo: Poorly Summarized
Chapter 1: We're on a boat and here are the bad guys! :D
Chapter 2: Eyyyy Basilio! You wanna make a school? (Internally: This will not turn out well)
Chapter 3: Short stories with symbolism. That Ibarra guy? Pffft he's dead. Don't worry about him
Chapter 4: The government ain't shit. Something about crocodiles. Juli would rather be a servant than sell a locket
Chapter 5: Coach Driver Has The Worst Christmas Eve Ever
Chapter 6: Basilio Backstory Time
Chapter 7: Simoun Backstory Time (but you already knew he was Ibarra, didn't you?) + Two weirdos have a philosophical debate in the middle of the woods
Chapter 8: Unmerry Christmas
Chapter 9: People Responsible For Why Juli's Life Sucks
Chapter 10: Simoun sells stuff, and oh yeah, Tales killed 3 people or something idk.
Chapter 11: The government ain't shit pt. 2
Chapter 12: The most relatable guy in the book
Chapter 13: The education system sucks
Chapter 14: Meet the students. You're probably gonna forget about them by the next chapter
Chapter 15: Isagani argues with a guy named Spaghetti or something
Chapter 16: Chinese Guy's in debt
Chapter 17: Woohoo, we're at a fair! Wait a minute, where's Simoun?
Chapter 18: Ah, there he is
Chapter 19: Simoun reveals he's a terrorist to a college drop-out
Chapter 20: Turns out, Don Custodio ain't shit
Chapter 21: The friars make a fuss about a French play, backfires horribly
Chapter 22: Relationship Dramaaaaa. Also, yay! The new school got approved! Nvm, we can't direct it anyway
Chapter 23: Hey kid, wanna be a terrorist? Wait, WDYM MARIA CLARA'S DEAD?!
Chapter 24: Relationship Dramaaaaa pt. 2 (This isn't gonna end well, will it?)
Chapter 25: Eating food and making fun of the government
Chapter 26: The government ain't shit pt. 3
Chapter 27: Wait, a decent priest? No way
Chapter 28: People Are Scared, Tiago kicks the bucket, and oh hey, Placido, there you are
Chapter 29: Tiago's Funeral (that's pretty much it)
Chapter 30: Juli can't catch a break
Chapter 31: Look! A decent government official! Nvm, he resigned
Chapter 32: Literally everyone is out of prison except for Basilio because the government ain't shit pt. 4. Also, Juanito's a girlfriend stealing bitch
Chapter 33: Basilio has an emo arc
Chapter 34: Wedding planning ensues, and look, a pretty lamp that's definitely not a bomb
Chapter 35: Your ex just crashed your wedding but dw, it's a good thing
Chapter 36: Ben-Zayb finally gets his own chapter
Chapter 37: The people finally got some braincells
Chapter 38: Remember Selo? Well, he's dead now
Chapter 39: Simoun finally crokes and Tiburcio's there ig
#el filibusterismo#el fili#simoun#basilio#isagani#juli#i'm not tagging everyone#i did this instead of studying
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