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archoniic · 11 months

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They seemed to come from all direction: the mountains to the South, the sea to the East, the ruins of the Guili Assembly to the North, Mt. Tianheng to the West, and every inch of life far beyond each corner of Teyvat— each speck of ash, of chalk, of dust. It was as if all were called to an instinct ever innate, beckoned by some maker only they knew, and ached to see return. And so this night, beneath the poignant glow of the moon ever full, when the night surrounding her drew darker than it had in aeons of time, they gathered into a zephyr atop the cliff that left the lone presence of its lily untouched as if by divine intervention itself. They seemed enraptured within this gust almost as gentle as she, or so the oft unread tales of legends could recount to the children of the harbor. But here, within that embrace, one could swear for even a moment in time, that the moon overhead seemed to dim, a luminosity stolen for a second in which the space that each grain inhabited lightened, brightened, or...

Perhaps it was what seemed to form within that held the sudden vigor of the moon almost more comfortably, or perhaps it was the shadow therein that craved the light such a celestial body held so very carelessly— or perhaps, it wasn't a shadow at all, at least no longer. A shadow hardly bore the detail of garments of white and blue long forgotten by days of present, a shadow hardly bore the tone of pale skin illuminated from within and overhead alike, a shadow hardly held any competence to feel the air within human lungs, or the trivial need to breathe. And yet she, closer to any corporeal form than any spirit could ever long to possess, before bare feet ever touched the blades of grass beneath them— craved it,longed to breathe in the same air that caressed the bare of her back and the palms of her hands as they lifted at her scrutiny. She could feel it, as clear as she remembered it too long ago. And as the light within and around her lessened to merely the tips of grey tresses, and as her toes finally felt the crunch of green tickle— the specks of dust seemed to have gone, or perhaps they were still there, for were she and they not one and the same? She had stolen it, selfishly, the light of the moon whose signature she wore; for it surely illuminated her now as kindly as it ever had, if not more so. If one were close enough to listen, to overhear, then perhaps the smile that formed too slowly in wonderment could be heard; as if a secret kept from humanity forevermore. She had missed all of it; this sensation, the air within her lungs, the gentle touch of a breeze to her cheeks.

And then, as the night that blanketed the harbor that remained behind and away from her still regained its peace and the breeze around her settled to stillness, when her gaze finally drew up in gesture so intrinsic— it all faltered to unimportance in an instant. There was no breath, nothing after it had caught in her chest at the sight of him, the real sight of him. She'd moved so barely on instinct in response before she halted almost immediately, as if any approach of him was a right that had long since been lost, a right taken from her tar too soon in the ages that had passed them. And yet, and yet, her hand craved and longed, and her fingertips physically ached to touch him, to touch him before any and all else.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐃 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐇 bittersweet memories for the Lord of Geo. Each year; as though taunting him from afar, the moon would cast its effervescent glow upon him. Hidden from the view of the mortals; his sleeves rolled to the elbows. Golden marks burning ever brighter where the silvery glow would touch; much the same as the caress of someone once so dear to him. Lost now; a memory locked deep within his heart. Unspoken, yet remembered. Eyes of amber would close, and her laugh would chime much like a bell; he could almost recall the scent from the field of lilies that she loved so dearly. For once every year, he would allow himself that one night of reflection. That one night to truly feel the weight of all he had lost. Adding yet another fresh crack into the stone that had long since been his heart. Such feelings were not one he could put into words, nor truly understand himself. All he could do was experience. For every crack that was added to his heart, his soul; his life. It took him one step closer to her. He welcomed it like an old friend; familiar in the most devastating of ways. For one with a memory as long and clear as his, those feelings of despair were as prevalent now as they always had been.

This year, the Moon's glow did not seem quite as bright; its touch did not warm his skin in the ways it had done each year before. It was different. Zhongli; much the same as he did year upon year, found himself making the same trip up the cliff which overlooked the harbour. Where a single lily prevailed above all the others. Strong, fierce, determined. It should not have been able to survive there the way it did. Yet it blossomed perfectly. Footsteps stilled on the path upwards; amber gaze falling to the very tip. What is that? Misplaced, a shadow. One that moved in such a way as should not be possible to be simply cast by the glow of the moon. It took him too long to realise truly what it was he was looking at. It was not a shadow at all.

But dust.

It felt as though everything stilled; no longer did he hear the sounds from the harbour or the rustle of the trees. No longer did he hear the footsteps on the path travelled. All he could hear was his heartbeat, echoing much too loud in his ears. For the first time he could remember; his footsteps faltered. A single misstep had the Lord of Geo almost tumble. Too consumed by thoughts he should not allow; for hope of that nature, what was within his heart was much too foolish. Yet the swirl of the dust was simply unnatural for it to be simply guided by the breeze.

One step, then another; chasing what was likely to be the single most foolish desire of his heart. Eyes never once dared to leave the gathering of dust. Watching as each grain seemed to steal the very moonlight itself; shining, as though mocking him. Yet this could not be simply another memory conjured by his mind. For as much as he had perfect clarity; he could not envision something that had never happened.

Whatever this may be; it was real.

Reaching the top took far too long; his steps were heavy, weighed down almost. The cracks in his heart almost became too large to bear. As he reached his destination; the dust had shifted, giving life to a form he thought he would never gaze upon again. Fabrics of blue and white and silver; the galaxy itself hidden within the sleeves. While not tangible in her entirety; the vision of her was unmistakable. Yet with every passing second; that vision grew more visible. He could barely catch his breath as he took in every moment; each swirl of the dust, each glance of the moonlight illuminating her skin; and as she turned to face him. The smile he remembered oh so clearly. The Lord of Geo was no longer made of stone.

He cracked apart, completely. As though she, herself was the hammer and him; weatherworn and beaten, finally succumbed to those splinters he had long since tried to hide.

He attempted to reach her; as she did him, but no longer would his legs support him. The once mighty Rex Lapis, Morax; was brought to his knees in front of his Goddess. How long had it been since he had shed a tear for anything? Never once, in thousands of years; even upon her death, he had reacted with anger. Then with sheer focus on their people and realising her dream for both the mortals and the land. Now, with nothing more to truly focus on; no great battle to be fought, the mortals no longer needed their Archon. But he needed her. Perhaps a thought of his that he had not truly considered in all of those years. For while he walked on; her memory was always close. Those tears fell silently, his gaze never once wavering from her; in fear of her disappearing from his view once again.

"Are you truly real?" A voice of a man that had held in too much, for much too long. Disbelief; confusion. Hope.

This was not a memory that he could have conjured from his imagination, never before had she appeared for him in such a way. Each time; it had simply been a memory of her in a way that had already transpired. This was new. Each emotion he had tried to bury almost had the man break at the seams; for a while, he had convinced himself that he had forgiven himself for the past. It became entirely obvious at that moment that he simply had not. How could he when he felt he had let her down in the worst way possible? Had he not promised to protect them? Their land, their people; her? Morax, Rex Lapis, had failed in that; and in doing so, had lost her to the dust.

Yet; she stood before him now, as real as she had been back then. Forcing himself to his feet, he ventured closer; a hand reaching out, met with the solidity of her. He made a sound that could only be described as human. A half huff of disbelief, yet entirely happy. That hand would travel up her arm, brushing along to her shoulder and her neck. He remembered this, how her skin felt. Warmer now, bathed in the glow of the moon. How many emotions passed along his face? It mattered not to him. She was real. He could touch her. He could see her. She was not a memory any longer. Palm would settle against her cheek, his thumb tracing along gently as he had done countless times before; another lifetime ago.

#yuelun #↱ guili ↲ with shortness of breath i’ll try to explain the infinite - how rare and beautiful it is to even exist . / 𝐃𝐘𝐍 : yuelun #↱ IC ↲ every journey has it’s final day – don’t rush . / 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 #tw: long post #i literally... cant even comment on this...#the utter emotions i felt both while reading this and responding to it

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meiluu · 1 year

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RE:4 Leon S. Kennedy NSFW Alphabet

Leon/ Reader(AFAB) cw: SMUT 18+ MDNI, A-D. Pt.2 —>E-H

these are just some of my own personal HC's for Leon (specifically re:4) this is a bit more on the emotional side in the beginning and then it gets smutty.

NSFW Alphabet ( A- D )

A = Aftercare

After sex Leon is a giver, he is making sure you are alright as well helping you both get cleaned up. He'll maybe run a warm bath if you both went for a long while or he was particularly rougher than usual. But just because he is a giver doesn't mean he doesn't want something from you. Mainly he wants your praise as well as reassurance that he pleasured you and did a good job at it. Make sure to love on him just as much as he loves on you.

A whimper leaves your lips as Leon gently pulls out of you, "I'll be right back baby, I'm going to run us a bath." a hum leaves you. Your mind goes in and out of sleepiness, hearing the muted sound of the water filling the tub does not help you to stay awake. And just as you are about to fall asleep, warm calloused hands are lifting you from the bed and into firm chest. “Thank you, love you.” Your voice is laced with tiredness, but full of sincerity. Together you both sink into the warm tub relishing in each others presence. Taking one of your hands to reach up to Leon you begin to gently card through his beautiful hair. A hum of appreciation rumbles through his chest. And there you both sit until the water turns chill, with careful movements you both end up back in bed cuddled against one another as you both drift off into a peaceful slumber.

B = Body part

If Leon had to chose which body part of yours was his favorite, he would say all of you is his favorite. But if you really made him chose he most likely say your hands and your lips. With his traumatic past and dangerous job comfort and peace is a scarcity for Leon. But once he found you he finally had someone who could give him those things. With every scar he obtains you are there to softly caress the healed flesh and place loving kisses, showing him that no matter what you will always love him. As well as with every nightmare you are there to wipe away his tears with your caring hands, and kiss his demons away. But on a more spicer note, he also loves it when your swollen lips are wrapped around his cock, and your hands are stroking what you can’t fit in your mouth. Kissing him and leaving marks across his skin mapping out the journey your lips take. Hands gripping onto his hair as his mouth gets lost in your cunt. The nail marks that you leave down his back as he fucks you into the bed, latching onto him like a life-preserver. He couldn’t get enough of all the sweet and nasty things your lips and hands could do to him.

Tongue getting a full taste of you has him grinding his aching cock into the bed. Hands pinning your hips down against the bed, making sure that you don’t squirm too much. Traveling back up to your clit to gently suck on it, he can feel your hands latching onto his hair along with a cry of his name, “Leon- baby I’m going to cum.” Your voice is rushed and a little slurred as the pleasure clouds your mind. A hum leaves leon in confirmation to your words, but with that vibration right on top of your clit it has your legs quivering. Leon takes a moment to open his eyes and to look up at you. And the sight that greets him is one he won’t forget, eyes squeezed shut, lips swollen, body glistening with sweat. It’s nothing short of a work of art, one that Leon will covet till the day he dies.

C = Cum

Leon is not afraid to admit that he prefers to cum in you. And this desire is one that he only recently discovered ever since being with you. Before meeting you Leon had few hook-ups and even fewer lovers, and not once has he ever had the urge to watch his cum dribble out of their cunts. But with you? You can bet on it. It satisfies a deep subconscious part of him, the part that wants to be reassure the you are his and he is yours. A mark of proof that only he is allowed to cum into you and only you are allowed to take it. It’s a very primal somewhat animalistic urge but with you it just makes sense. You are the only person whose ever loved Leon with just as much if not more than he loves you. You are his person, and for lack of a better term, his soulmate. So seeing you wholly accept him and take everything that he has to give you has him rolling his eyes back in ecstasy.

Face pushed into the sheets, hands holding onto the covers as Leon fucks you from behind. Hips raised to meet his every thrust, as your body is shadowed by his. His arms caging you in allowing him to surround you, every sense overloaded with just him. A symphony of skin against skin and sounds of your pleasure fill the space around you. "Where?" voice gruff with exertion and pleasure rings in your ears. It takes no hesitation to respond, "In me- in me, please." you are cumming around his cock only moments later and Leon's just behind you. As your walls rhythmically squeeze around him you pull him off that cliff bringing him his release. a deep satisfied groan leaves him as he pushes up against you, leaving no space between you. A familiar warmth fills you, with careful movements Leon is pulling out of you, and you can feel his burning gaze locked onto your cunt. "Fuck, you look so beautiful." one of his calloused hands smears the dribble of cum that's seeping from your swollen cunt.

D = Dirty secret

The dirtiest secret that Leon has in relation to sex is that he not only stole but masturbated with a pair of your panties without you knowing. And you still don't know about the missing panties. It was early on in your relationship and you both hadn't had sex yet as you both agreed to wait until you were both comfortable. But that didn't stop the many of times that Leon would have to excuse himself to fuck his hand in the privacy of your bathroom. Or when he'd wake up from a wet dream with cum in his briefs. So he had stolen a beautiful lacy pantie that had been haphazardly shoved into your dresser drawer.

He should feel bad but right now his mind was solely focused on his hand that not only held your panties but also his aching cock. He had just gotten home from a particularly stressful day at the D.S.O and he needed relief... badly. So here he was, partially undressed laying on his bed as he jerked his stiff cock with your panties. A whimper escaped his lips as he sped up his movements, accompanied with the mental image of you- lips parted with eyes completely focused on him. "Come on baby, cum for me." Your voice rings through his head, and with his dream version of you command, he cums. His moan fills the bedroom, as the waves of release roll over him as he slowly comes down from his high. He opens his eyes, immediately drawn to the sticky mess his made in his hand. "Shit" , he would need to wash your panties and somehow return them without you noticing...

He never did return those panties.

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eiightysixbaby · 5 months

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i’ll be home for christmas

PART FOUR: Merry Christmas, Darling

previous chapter || series masterlist

word count: 7.4k

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie’s return sends you through emotional turmoil. can things go back to the way they were?

cw: angst, there’s a lotttt of feelings in this chapter whew what a ride, mentions of alcohol consumption, brief mention of reader’s parents - they aren’t described it’s just mentioned that we go to see them, reader’s nickname is ‘sunny’

author’s note: the final part is here!! thank you all soooo much for coming on this little journey with me. i’ve had so much fun writing this fic, and i appreciate every kind comment i’ve received. keep your eyes peeled in the coming weeks, there’s an extra something i’m working on for this universe :)

Present Day: Christmas Eve, 1989.

Eddie. You’re staring at Eddie, that much you know. He’s standing right in front of you, yet it all feels hazy. There’s a ringing in your ears that won’t stop, a sickness in your gut that won’t ease. You say nothing as you step aside to let Dustin and the rest of the kids rush to the door to greet the man before you.

He looks at you, desperately, before being swarmed by everyone else.

“Eddie! Holy shit!!” Dustin yells, throwing his full weight at the man and barely giving him time to get his bearings.

“What are you doing here!?” Lucas asks, pushing Dustin out of the way to get his own hug.

“Slow down, you gremlins,” Eddie laughs. Oh, god, his laugh. It makes your stomach churn. What was once music to your ears is now an unfamiliar sound. You’d know his laugh anywhere. But you don’t feel like you know him anymore. “How’s everyone doing? I missed you fuckers,” he says, ruffling Max’s hair.

“We missed you,” she says, rolling her eyes as if she can’t be bothered. Eddie knows it’s just an act.

You move out of the doorway, feeling like you’re in a daze as you walk back to the living room.

“Did you guys know about this?” you ask Nancy, Robin, and Steve once they turn expectantly to catch your reaction to the whole surprise.

“Yeah, he got in a few days ago. We wanted it to be a surprise,” Robin says, biting her bottom lip in an attempt to cover a smile.

“Right,” you say, not matching her excitement as you sit down in an empty chair. It explains why the girls were acting so weird during your baking session. It explains why you made the stupid raspberry cookies.

You can feel Jonathan’s eyes boring into you, watching your every move. You don’t look at him, knowing you’ll break if you see the concerned expression you know will be on his face. Nancy’s about to say something when Eddie and the teens come swarming in, Dustin already blabbering his ear off. You go stiff in your seat, not meeting those gorgeous brown eyes and instead keeping your face trained on the floor.

Jonathan stands, moving to greet Eddie as he’s the only one who hasn’t yet. “What’s up, man? You back for good?” he asks.

“Yeah. Yeah I think I am,” he says. “It’s good to see you.” You know everyone’s eyes are on you, including his. You know they’re waiting for you to say something. Your silence is ear-splitting, and it feels like a bomb is about to go off.

Everyone moves to surround Eddie, except you, but you can’t blame them. They ask him for all of the details about Chicago, his reasons for moving back, anything and everything. You catch him looking around their faces, trying to get you to look at him, but you avoid his eyes every time. You thought this was what you wanted. You thought seeing him would fix everything.

But it didn’t.

If anything, your heart feels even more shattered. He thinks he can just come home, show up at this party without warning and you’re just going to fall into his arms? Confess your love for him? Act like nothing has happened?

He’s too nonchalant, the way he talks to the group. The way he sits casually on Steve’s sofa, the way he grabs cookies and a drink to indulge in.

A part of you wants to be upset with your friends for hiding this from you, for giving you no warning, but the other part of you knows they were just trying to make you happy. This was supposed to make you happy. You’re unhappy without Eddie, and now he’s here and you’re still unhappy. What is wrong with you?

It’s too much, your head feeling like it’s going to cave in as you listen to the chatter around you. Eddie’s voice is grating in your ears, and you can’t bear to look at his face — you know you’ll just burst into tears. He’s in the middle of telling a story about his attempts to land a recording gig when you stand from your seat, stopping him mid-sentence.

Without a word, you walk quickly to Steve’s back door, letting yourself out to the backyard. You can hear Jonathan call after you, but you don’t want to be bothered. The cold air hits you harder without your coat on, and you wrap your arms around yourself to keep as warm as possible. Steve’s covered pool is coated with a layer of ice and snow, and the lights from inside make the snow sparkle. Inhaling deeply, the icy air burns your lungs, but at least you’re feeling something definite. Your emotions are all over the place, none of them clear or easy to work through.

Maybe you should just go home. Just slink off to your car and go, because you certainly can’t be here with him. As if on cue, sent by some fucked up force in the universe that loves to put you through the wringer, the door slides open.

You hear shoes crunch on the snowy ground, bulky steps that can only come from heavy boots. A deep breath is taken but it’s not enough, you feel like you can’t get any air when he’s taking it all from you. Standing still, you stare straight ahead, your back facing who you know is right behind you. You can’t bear to turn around, to be the one to face him first.

“Sunny,” is all he says. His voice is soft, but it raises every hair on your neck. You’re back to a year ago, to that horrible place he took you to and locked you away in.

You steel yourself, preparing for the floor to fall out beneath you and trying your damndest to be ready for it.

“Please, look at me.”

Turning, slowly, your eyes lock with his. He looks the same as he did the last time you saw him, except now his face fills your mouth with a sour taste. You don’t like this feeling.

“I missed you,” he says, quietly.

His hands are tucked in the front pocket of his jeans, his face barely visible in the dark. He looks at you almost expectantly, like you’re supposed to do something here. Like this isn’t insane.

“I can’t do this, Eddie,” you say, barely above a whisper. Your voice is failing you.

He hears you anyway, his ears so attuned to anything and everything you have to say. You don’t look the same, the usual fire behind your eyes is gone. It worries him.

“Please, just… I came back for you. I’ve never stopped thinking about you.”

“Please don’t. Don’t do that, Eddie,” you warn, tears burning at your eyes.

“Do what? Be honest with you? I’m sorry Sunny. I’m so sorry. But it’s the truth. I’ve never stopped missing you,” he presses. His tone isn’t harsh, but passionate. You know he’s being honest, and it makes you want to throw up.

“So, what? You’re just going to walk in here and act like everything is normal? Like this isn’t fucking weird?” you ask, getting progressively louder as you go. He’s standing not even a foot away, silent. What can he say?

“You’ve been gone for a year, Eddie. You left me, you barely gave me a warning!” you hiss, stepping further away from him. Retreating into yourself, protecting yourself.

He takes a step toward you, chancing it. Reaching a hand out as if to grab you and comfort you. You don’t let him, slinking out of his touch.

“Sunny, please. Can we talk about this?” he asks, his voice desperate as he pleads with you.

“You didn’t want to talk it over when you made the decision to leave,” you spit. “So maybe I don’t want to talk things over now. I’m sorry you thought I’d just fall right into your arms again, but it’s not happening, Eddie. This? Whatever it is we had? It’s done, it’s gone. You can thank yourself.” You brush past him, slamming the door shut behind you once you’ve entered the house again. Anger and hurt blaze through your veins in a deadly concoction, your vision blurry with the hot tears that sting in your eyes.

Eddie follows after you, hot on your trail, emotion-strained voice calling out from behind. “Sunny. Sunny!”

You don’t give him the satisfaction of a response, simply putting your coat on and grabbing your purse. “I’m leaving. I’m sorry, everyone,” you say curtly, and then you’re heading towards the front door, stepping outside into the cold night with nothing more than the slam of the wood.

Eddie stands in the living room, forlorn as everyone just looks around, unsure of what to do. Of all the ways this reunion could have gone, they certainly didn’t expect this. They thought it would make you happy, not make everything worse.

“I have to go get her—” he starts, frantic as he pats down his pockets for his car keys.

“Eddie, I don’t think that’s the best idea,” Robin says warily, standing from her seat on the couch.

“I let her go once!” Eddie yells, a painful twinge to his tone. “I can’t let it happen again.”

He looks like a kicked puppy, scared where he stands in the middle of Steve’s home. The looks everyone gives him are pitying, and it makes him scoff as he starts to pace, running his hands through his hair.

“You need to give her space, man,” Jonathan adds, trying to calm him down. “If you bombard her right now, it’ll only make her more upset.”

Eddie looks at him, saying nothing. His eyes are glassy, tears threatening to spill but he doesn’t want to let them. The impulsive part of him wants to tell Jonathan to fuck off — he used to know you like that. He used to be the person that knew everything about you, and now Jonathan has taken his place. Even if only platonically. He bites his tongue, reminding himself of the unfortunate truth that it’s his own fault you aren’t close anymore.

“I— I just need some air,” Eddie settles on, turning around and going back out to the backyard.

He isn’t out there for long before he hears someone else join him. Turning, he’s a little surprised to see Jonathan. He’d expected Steve, maybe Dustin.

“Hey,” Eddie says, his hands in his pockets as he stares out across the yard.

“Hey,” Jonathan replies, taking slow steps closer to him. “Listen, Eddie,” he starts after a pause. “You put her through a lot this last year,” he says. Eddie can tell by his tone he’s not trying to be unkind or sour, but it still hurts. It’s hard to admit that he was so incredibly wrong, and that his actions are having major consequences. He never wanted to hurt you this badly. Everything had spun out of control, and he’s to blame.

“I know, man. I know,” he replies. “I’m sorry about it.”

Jonathan just looks at him, watching him carefully. There’s a brief silence, before Eddie takes a deep breath and a little leap of faith.

“Can you talk to her for me?”

He looks at the man beside him, breath hitched in his throat, nervous.

“Eddie—”

“Please, man. She… she trusts you. In a way that she doesn’t trust me anymore. And I know that that’s my fault, but…” he takes a shaky breath, furiously swiping at his wet eyes with his thumb. “I want to earn her trust back. I want her back.”

Jonathan thinks this over, running his tongue over his teeth behind his top lip as if collecting the taste Eddie’s words leave in his mouth. Meeting Eddie’s eyes, his gaze softens when he sees the pain sitting on his face.

“Okay. I’ll try to talk to her,” Jonathan says finally, and Eddie lets out a relieved breath. “But. I’m not promising anything. If she wants to cut ties with you, that’s her business, and I can’t force her to do anything. You screwed up last year, Ed. I’m not trying to rub salt in your wounds, I just need you to understand why this is so hard for her.”

Eddie almost wants to laugh. Jonathan has a way of saying harsh things — of giving you the truth — yet not making you feel like complete shit while he does it. Eddie knows that he cares, he just cares on a level that not everyone does.

“I know. Trust me, I know that,” he sighs, blowing out a puff of air as he looks up to the dark sky. “I know you can’t force her, and I don’t want that. I just… I want her to know how sorry I am. If nothing else, I want her to know that she’s the most important person I’ve ever met and that I’m a moron for what I did last year.”

Jonathan does laugh at this, and then Eddie starts laughing with him. And it feels good, if even for a fleeting moment.

“I’ll talk to her, okay? I’m glad to have you back, man,” the younger man says, giving Eddie a soft fist to the shoulder. There’s a smile on his face, just enough for Eddie to notice.

He smiles back. Jonathan doesn’t need words to hear the ‘thank you’ that lies behind it.

•

You don’t feel any better after your outburst towards Eddie. You wanted to be with your friends tonight, not sitting alone at your apartment. But you’d left on impulse and now… here you are. Sitting alone on your floor because it felt right to sit on the floor and now you’re spiraling.

You don’t know what to think, or what to feel. You’d been sad for months over Eddie’s absence and now he’s here and you go and have a meltdown. Frustration boils inside of you, your heart twisting in your chest. Being angry at Eddie doesn’t feel any better than missing him had, it’s not like being mad allows you to just forget him.

Before you can think yourself into oblivion, your phone rings. Groaning, you stand to retrieve it. Your heart pounds in your chest — what if it’s him?

Steadying your breathing, you let it ring a few times before you convince yourself to answer.

“Hello?” you mumble, not quite ready to find out whose voice will come out on the other end.

“Sunny. It’s me,” Jonathan’s voice comes through the receiver, relaxing every muscle in your body. “Are you okay?” he asks.

“Honestly, Jon? I have no fucking idea,” you say, with a slight laugh at the end. There’s no humor in it, though, you simply feel like you’re going mad.

“Can I come over?”

“Jonathan, no, stay at the party—”

“Sunny. Can I come over?” he tries again, not wanting you to put him first in this situation. He wants to be there for you.

“Okay. Yeah, fine. Door’s unlocked, just come in when you get here.”

Clicking the phone back into its place, you pace the floor slightly, chewing your nail.

Did Eddie really come back for you? Is this all for you?

Your heart aches at the thought of it. You just don’t understand how he expected everything to be just fine the second you saw him, and all you can picture in your mind is the look on his stupid fucking face the second you opened Steve’s door.

He looked at you like you hung the moon. He looked at you like you were everything.

You think about last year, you think about the kiss. The way his lips felt so soft against yours, like they were made to be there. You dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, rubbing at them with a frustrated sigh. Taking a seat on the couch, you await Jonathan’s arrival.

The door opens quietly before his figure slips through the gap, his cheeks rosy from the cold. You’re curled in one corner of the sofa, and you must look pitiful because his eyes soften the second they land on you.

“Sunny…” he says, hanging his coat on your coat rack before instantly coming to sit by you.

“What the fuck is happening, Jonathan?” you croak, moving to lean against him. “I thought this was what I wanted. I wanted him to come home I… I still miss him…”

“I think he just surprised you. You’re feeling a lot of things at once, and that’s okay. Every single emotion is valid,” he says softly, rubbing your back with a gentle hand.

“I’m just so mad that he walked in like it was nothing. He sat down and talked with everyone like there wasn’t a giant elephant in the room to address,” you say, that anger still lingering in your voice. “But I’m not proud that I walked out on him. I didn’t let him talk, or anything. I told him we’re done,” you sniff, letting tears drip down your face. “I don’t know if I really meant that.”

“Do you think he’s just gonna give up on you? I promise you he’s not, Sunny. He was ready to chase after you the second you left.”

You think this over, a pang in your heart making you cry more. A small part of you wanted him to chase you, although you wouldn’t admit it in your anger.

“He’s really sorry, Sunny,” Jonathan sighs, squeezing you closer to him. “I’ve never seen him this beat up over anything. He’s devastated. You have a right to be devastated, too. I just want you to know that he knows he screwed up.”

“Did he tell you to tell me this?”

Jonathan pauses, takes a breath. “He asked if I would talk to you, yeah. But I had every intention of coming over here, anyway. I think you need someone to talk it out with, that isn’t him.”

“Is that all he said?”

“He said he’s a moron for what he did,” Jonathan adds, smiling when he gets a watery laugh from you.

“He is a fucking moron,” you admit, wiping your nose with the back of your hand.

“And he said that you’re the most important person he’s ever met. There’s no doubt in my mind that he means that. He really adores you, Sunny.”

“I feel the same about him,” you say, lip wobbling. It’s true. You’ve never met anyone else who’s impacted you quite the same as he has. He’s everything. That’s why this is all so earth-shattering.

“So what are you gonna do?” Jonathan asks, waiting a beat. “You don’t have to decide now. I’m not here to change your mind or tell you how to feel. You don’t have to talk to him anymore if you really don’t want to. But I saw how happy you were with him last year, Sunny. I want you to be that happy again.”

“I need to think things over,” you say meekly, letting out a sigh. “Can we just watch a movie?” you ask, looking up at your friend.

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “We can watch a movie. Give yourself all the time you need to think.”

Present Day: Christmas Day, 1989.

The night had been a restless one. Tossing and turning beneath your heavy comforter, your mind racing with a million thoughts. A million things you want to say, a million things you should say, to him. He hurt you, and he can’t take that back, but you didn’t even hear a single thing he had to say. You didn’t hear him out, and that’s not how you’d typically behave around him. Maybe nothing involving him was “typical” anymore, but you couldn’t sleep restfully knowing you haven’t had a real conversation with him.

All you’d wanted, for 12 months, was for Eddie to be home, to apologize. You realize now that your anger has eased that you need to talk to him. Nothing will improve if you don’t speak to him. You know for a fact it would eat you alive every day if he was home in Hawkins, seeing your friends, and you had to avoid him. You have things you need to get off your chest, stuff you want to say, and as you laid awake blinking into the darkness, you’d decided you needed to go and see him.

Christmas morning arrives too bright and too early, your body curled beneath blankets as you rub your eyes and yawn. It feels like you fell asleep for maybe an hour or two, your mind still racing with thoughts that seemed to never stop. Immediately, you’re throwing the covers off and getting out of bed.

There’s still time to fix things. There’s still time to talk to him, to have a good Christmas. You deserve a good Christmas.

The shower water pours hot out of the faucet, steam filling your bathroom as you undress. You let the water coat your skin, making you feel more awake as you shampoo your hair and scrub your body. You feel like you can’t move fast enough, anxiety swirling in your stomach coupled with your eager need to see Eddie.

You get ready in record timing, hair done and outfit donned, teeth brushed and everything else in between. You bundle up for the weather, as one look out your window told you it was definitely a cold one, a hefty layer of snow coating the ground. You can feel yourself tremble as you get in your car and start it, nausea creeping back in as you worry the whole drive to Eddie’s.

Your boots crunch on the snow-covered dirt, your hand pushing your car door shut with a reluctant creak. It’s been so long since you’ve been here, at the trailer park, standing in front of this very trailer. It looks the same as you remember it, though it looks like Wayne got a new wreath for the door.

It’s early, god you know it’s so early, and you only hope you won’t be disturbing the sleep of the two men who inhabit the home. But this is important, you think to yourself. You have to do this.

Taking a deep breath, your hand trembles before you bring it to the door in a repetitive pattern, knocking firmly. There’s no answer for a moment, and you worry that maybe coming out here was a mistake. Maybe he doesn’t want to talk to you, after all. Maybe Jonathan was wrong, and you’d pissed him off, and he’s done with you.

Maybe it’s too late.

You’re about to resign, to get back in your car, when you hear footsteps on the inside of the door. It swings open in front of you, revealing Eddie’s sleepy face and his sleep-tousled hair.

“Sunny?” he asks, rubbing one eye with his hand. He reaches off to the side, yanking on a coat before coming to stand outside with you.

“Sorry, uh… Wayne’s still asleep otherwise I’d—”

“I miss you, Eddie,” you cut him off, making his eyes widen for a split second. “And I’m so fucking mad at you, but it turns out being mad at you doesn’t make me miss you any less.”

He blinks, looking down at you but not speaking, as if he’s too scared to say anything at all.

“You really fucked me up leaving last year, you know that?” you ask with an icy laugh, looking off to the side. “I missed you every single day you were gone. All I wanted this whole time was you. And now you’re here, and— and, you think you can just show up and everything will be fine. Everything’s not fine,” you ramble, voice cracking at the end of your speech.

You’d tried to ward off any tears, but they’re running warm down your cold cheeks before you can stop them. You wipe furiously at them with your fingers, trying to hide your emotions from the man in front of you. You hadn’t planned on getting this emotional, but then you suppose you can’t really fully plan for a conversation like this.

“Nothing— is fine, Eddie,” you croak. “I missed you so much,” you start to cry harder, collapsing against him as he readily accepts you into a sort of hug as you let it all pour out of you. He holds you against his chest, and how you missed being pressed close to him like this. Your chest aches with every single second of those 12 months without him that you can’t get back. “How could you do that to me?” you ask him, fist clutching the fabric of his coat, not wanting to let him go.

He squeezes you so tight, he doesn’t know what to say. He didn’t expect you to come here, especially not so soon.

“I’m so sorry, Sunny,” he says quietly. “I’m so sorry. I’m the dumbest man alive for leaving you. I really am.”

“At least you know that,” you sniff, the tiniest laugh rumbling in your chest amidst your tears; reminding you of what Jonathan had told you the night before. That he’s a moron.

“I’ll let you tell me that every day for the rest of my life,” he says, brave enough to crack the smallest smile. “Just please don’t give up on me.” Gripping your shoulders, he coaxes you just far enough away so he can really look at you. “All I want is you, Sunny. Chicago… didn’t change my life. Not in the slightest. I thought I needed to get out of here but… I couldn’t have been more wrong. And I’m so sorry you had to be caught up in my dumb mistake,” he says earnestly. “It was never a problem with you. My feelings for you were always real. Are still real.”

You’re silent, taking a couple breaths before you speak. “I’m sorry Chicago didn’t work out. But the selfish part of me was hoping it wouldn’t…” you confess, looking down at your shoes.

“It’s okay. I learned my lesson, that’s for sure,” he scoffs a little, his expression downtrodden.

“This year was so hard, Eddie,” you tell him. “Nothing has been the same without you.” The pain in your voice feels like he’s been stabbed in the heart, and he so horribly wishes he could take everything back. But he can’t. All he can do is be better for you, now.

“I know, sweetheart,” he says, his big chocolate eyes so apologetic. You missed his pet names, missed the way sweetheart rolls off of his tongue specially for you. “Please tell me you didn’t mean what you said… when you said that we’re done.”

He doesn’t look at you as he says that last part, not the entire time at least. His eyes dance nervously around, his voice wavering with anxiety. It makes tears spring to your eyes again, the thought of going on without him. Of spending every day for the rest of your life without him.

“I can’t do this without you, Eddie,” you say. “But you have to promise me you’re never going to pull something like that again. You’re never leaving again, unless it’s with me,” you steel yourself, not letting yourself get too emotional until he can make this promise. Until he can prove himself.

“Never. Never, I swear. I don’t want to be anywhere you aren’t,” he breathes, moving closer to you. “Please let me make it all up to you. I’ll spend the rest of my life being the best I can be for you.”

His hands cup your face, warm against your frosty cheeks. He wipes a stray tear from your face with a gentle thumb, smiling so softly when you lean into his touch. All at once it hits you, your overwhelming affection for him that you’d had to shove down all year. It gnaws at your chest, clawing its way out of you triumphantly. He’s still the same man you knew then. He’s still the only person you want first thing in the morning and last thing at night.

“Eddie…” you sigh, letting your eyes flutter closed, your hands holding his forearms.

You can feel how close his face is to yours, his nose nearly ghosting over your own and his breath warming your skin. The broken pieces of you are being glued back together one by one the longer he stands holding you.

“I’ve thought about that kiss every single day for the last year, you know that?” he says softly, your eyes opening once more to look up at him.

“Me too,” you breathe. “I’d started to think that maybe it was a mistake,” you admit sadly, watching the way his expression changes. “But it was the best kiss I’ve ever had.”

Both of you go quiet, eyes saying so much without words as you look at each other. He’s so close, his face right against yours as you stand in the freezing cold morning. He starts to shift even closer, and you feel like his lips are about to close the distance to yours when the trailer door swings open.

“Is that my little lady?” Wayne’s gruff voice calls out.

You and Eddie break apart abruptly, Eddie rather reluctantly letting you go as your head swings to look at his uncle.

“Wayne!” you beam, moving instantly to accept his hug. You glance back at Eddie, heart thumping in your chest as you watch him watching you.

This is how it should be. This is how you always want it to be.

“Get in here and out of the cold. I missed you, you know that?” the older man says to you, pulling you inside.

You have a lot of catching up to do. That second kiss will have to wait.

After a mug of hot cocoa and a lot of reminiscing with Wayne and Eddie, you find yourself alone with Eddie in his room. There’s a tiny bit of awkwardness in the atmosphere, both of you getting your footing together after so much time apart. It almost feels wrong to be in his bedroom, but then you remember you spent nearly every day here not so long ago.

“I’m sorry it’s a mess,” he smiles weakly. “Unpacking hasn’t exactly been my top priority.”

“Don’t apologize,” you insist, standing in the doorway as he kicks his messy suitcase to a corner of the room. “Was it ever clean before you moved?” you tease, more and more of that weight being lifted off your shoulders with each lighthearted comment, each joke and laugh and smile given and received.

“Sometimes!” he defends, immediately relenting. “Okay, no, it’s always a mess.”

“I really need to get going, Eddie. I need to see my parents at least for a little bit today,” you tell him, glancing at the clock.

“Will I see you back at Steve’s later?” he asks.

“I was hoping I could hitch a ride with you,” you say shyly.

He beams, pearly white teeth shining at you. He could light the entire city with that smile.

“Of course you can. I’ll pick you up, say around six?”

“Six is perfect,” you smile, moving toward him to give his arm a squeeze. “I really fucking missed you.”

He exhales, taking both of your hands in his. “I missed you more than I can even say. I hope you believe me. If I could take this whole year back, start over, I would.”

You don’t reply, just nod at him with empathetic eyes. You know he means it. You do believe him.

“I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Okay,” he says. “Be safe getting to your parents, alright?”

You nod again, smiling at him before you put your coat back on, saying goodbye to Wayne and walking out into the cold.

•

Opening gifts with your parents was a good reprieve from the emotional whirlwind of a morning that you’d had, simply sharing in their joy and having lighthearted conversation. It felt good to feel good, that was for certain.

To have a happy Christmas, a happy day, finally. There was still much to be discussed with Eddie, but you felt at ease now that you’d finally poured your heart out to him. You can’t really stay angry with him, because your heart knows he never meant to cause you so much pain.

Six o’clock rolls around surprisingly quickly, a knock sounding at your door as you give yourself a once over in your mirror. Smoothing down your velvet skirt for a final time, you turn to leave your room. As you’re about to flip off the light, though, your jewelry box catches your eye.

You walk over to your dresser where it sits on the top, opening the lid. Eddie’s necklace sits with its broken chain on top of the other miscellaneous jewelry, the initialed pendant gleaming right at you. There’s another knock on your door, and you hurriedly rummage through the clutter to find a spare chain, one that hadn’t been ripped in half.

You let the pendant fall from the old chain, slipping it onto the new one as you walk quickly to the door.

Swinging it open, Eddie’s sweet face greets you on the other side. The things you would’ve given to see him greeting you all those torturous months when he was gone. And now he’s here. He looks gorgeous; wearing what might be his only pair of black jeans that aren’t ripped, along with a deep green flannel that slightly pokes out beneath a dark gray sweater. You want to devour him, you realize. But that will have to wait — the time will come eventually.

“Oh, thank god. I was starting to think you weren’t gonna answer,” he jokes, playing off the comment with a slight laugh. You can see in his face that a small part of him really was concerned you’d bail.

“Sorry, I was looking for something,” you say, stepping aside to let him in.

“Oh? Did you find whatever it was?”

“Mhm. Would you mind putting it on me?” you ask, holding out the necklace to him.

He looks at it, his eyes softening when he recognizes the pendant.

“You still have this,” he muses, surprise evident in his tone. Like he thought you’d get rid of it. You truthfully never could have.

“It’s important to me,” you tell him, glancing up at him through your lashes. “I… broke the original chain. One night when I took it off. I-I’m not proud of it and I’m sorry. Because this gift is so important to me. It was the only piece I had of you,” you admit, pouring your truth and your heart into his open hands.

“Sunny, you don’t have to apologize. You still have it, I’m so glad you do.”

He smiles, a warm and wonderful thing, before he motions for you to turn around. He drapes the pendant over your head, letting it rest on your chest while he fidgets with the clasp at the back. You nearly want to cry as he puts it on you; you didn’t get the chance for him to do this when he’d gifted it to you. You’d put it on alone, in painful tears, wishing it would bring him back.

“Okay, I think it’s good,” Eddie murmurs, his gaze soft when you turn back around to face him.

“What do you think?” you ask, biting on your lip.

“It’s a beautiful necklace for an even more beautiful person,” he says, calm and collected, his words steady and meaningful. “I’m just sorry it took me this long to see you wearing it.”

You feel your cheeks flush, smiling as you pull your coat on and grab hold of the bottle of wine you’d bought to bring to Steve’s.

“Ready?” you ask, shy beneath the way he stares at you; like he never wants to look at anything but you.

“You know it,” he says, jingling his car keys before opening the door for you.

Your foot taps nervously on the floor of the car the whole ride to Steve’s home, butterflies twirling in your stomach at the thought of your arrival with Eddie. After your outburst yesterday, you were admittedly a little embarrassed, and now to show up with the man you’d just walked out on… well, what a roller coaster. Tension hangs thick between the two of you, the mutual acknowledgment of what maybe almost happened earlier before Wayne had interrupted blinking like a neon sign. He had definitely almost kissed you, and the thought makes your stomach swirl.

Neither of you really talk much, not knowing what to say. Sitting in silence and enjoying the company of the other feels like enough, for now. You can’t help but smile to yourself as you look at the pretty decorated houses that you pass, heart soaring with the knowledge that you have Eddie back, and with it comes the holiday cheer you’d been missing.

Before long the clunky van is pulling into Steve’s driveway, parking behind Nancy’s car. Eddie kills the engine, telling you to stay put so he can jog around to your side and get the door for you. He extends a hand, helping you down into the slippery concrete as you clutch the wine bottle tight in your other hand.

“Why thank you,” you giggle, not missing the way his cheeks grow pink.

“Anything for you, m’lady,” he salutes, reaching in behind you to grab your purse for you.

You take a deep breath as you start to walk up to the front door, arm tangled with Eddie’s so you don’t slip and in the slushy mess. You can sense his nerves, too, as he knocks on the door. You glance to the side, smiling at him and watching him return the gesture.

Steve opens the door, wearing reindeer antlers and a red Christmas sweater. He stops in his tracks when he sees both of you, a smug grin spreading on his lips.

“Well, would you look at that?” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. “I missed seeing you two attached at the hip,” he jokes, stepping aside to let you both in.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie says, squeezing the other man’s shoulder. What you don’t see is the way Steve gives him a celebratory fist bump, mouthing a silent “yes!”.

Heads turn the second you and Eddie are inside, and you watch as Nancy and Robin beam at the sight. Jonathan gives you both a pointed but subtle thumbs up, and his smile says it all.

“Look at you two!” Robin exclaims, and you unravel your arm from Eddie’s to give her a hug.

“Okay, guys, we’re the spectacle of the evening, we get it,” Eddie laughs, giving her a hug after you.

“I won’t lie, I missed seeing you two arriving places together. You used to basically be conjoined,” Nancy jokes, taking the wine from you. She moves swiftly into the kitchen, getting out a few glasses to pour some. She hands you a glass, along with one for herself and Robin.

“Wait, hey, let me catch up!” Eddie says, grabbing a beer for himself from the fridge.

Steve and Jonathan gather around with their drinks, too, everyone raising their glasses and bottles high.

“Cheers, to Sunny and Eddie,” Nancy says, smiling brightly as everyone clinks their drinks together before taking a sip. Her toast makes you flustered, heart beating rapidly in your chest.

The wine goes down easy, warming your stomach with a pleasant tingle. This is how things should be. The hole in your friend group filled by the person you’d all been missing. The energy in the room is brighter, better. Eddie is needed here, not only by you.

Robin puts on one of Steve’s many Christmas records, letting the music fill the room along with your blended voices chattering happily. You’re talking with the girls, filling them in on what happened since last night. Your eyes keep wandering to wherever Eddie is, noticing him standing in the sun room with Steve. They’re talking about something you can’t hear, looking out the window into the snow covered backyard. You start to walk towards him, telling the girls you’ll be back in a bit, but stop at Jonathan first where he sits on the couch.

“Thank you. For helping me sort through my feelings,” you tell him, giving his hand a squeeze.

“I hardly did anything. You made this choice yourself,” he says, squeezing your hand right back. “I’m so happy for you, Sunny. It’s good to see you happy.”

“You’re the best, you know that?” you ask him, giving him one last grateful look before walking away.

“Gentlemen,” you say, announcing yourself as you step into the other room with the two men. You hope you aren’t interrupting anything too important, but staying away from Eddie is the last thing you want right now.

“There she is,” Steve says, pulling you into his side. You laugh, reaching a hand up to mess up his hair.

“Hey, hey— watch the antlers!” he defends, slipping out of reach.

“Do you mind if I have a minute alone with him?” you ask Steve, motioning to Eddie with your thumb.

“No, no. Of course not. Behave yourselves,” he winks, slipping out as he takes a sip of his beer.

“What’s up, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, moving in on you, wrapping an arm tentatively around your waist. His expression eases up when you relax into his touch, smiling blissfully up at him.

“I just thought we should pick up where we left off earlier…” you say, poking his chest softly with a finger and letting it trail down.

“Oh? And where exactly did we leave off?” he smirks, pressing his body closer to yours.

“I think… that you were about to kiss me again,” you murmur, hooded eyes looking up into his.

“Interesting theory,” Eddie jokes, placing a hand to his chin as if pondering this. You slap him lightly on the arm, giggling like a schoolgirl at him. “You might be right about that, sweetness,” he admits, dropping his face down closer to yours.

Your noses brush, the smell of his cologne and shampoo overwhelming your senses. He still uses the same stuff he did a year ago, turns out.

Your eyes focus in on his soft lips, the way his tongue darts out to wet them slightly. And then you let your eyelids flutter closed, feeling his other arm wrap around you, pulling you impossibly closer. His lips press to yours, so soft and hesitant at first, before gaining more confidence. You hold the back of his neck with one hand, fingers tangling in his curls, taking in his warmth and softness. Your mouths move together perfectly, two pieces of a puzzle finally brought together. The same fireworks you felt that first time go off again, yet this time they somehow feel even brighter. You’d waited so long for this, wondered if you would ever get this, and now it’s happening.

His tongue prods gently into your mouth, ever so slightly dancing around yours. His lips are so plush and gentle, and he smiles into the kiss with a soft little laugh. Pulling away, he rests his forehead to yours.

“You can tell me I’m crazy for this if you want to, okay? If it’s too soon, I get it. But I have to know if you’ll be mine,” he says, eyes darting back and forth between each of your own.

“Eddie,” you breathe, smiling wider than you have all night. “I’m all yours. I’ll be yours forever,” you promise, wrapping both arms around his neck and pulling him into one more passionate kiss.

“Okay, lovebirds!” Robin calls from the living room. You both turn your heads to see everyone watching you, and your cheeks flush.

“Didn’t know we had an audience,” Eddie says softly, only for you to hear, making you laugh again.

“Are you guys coming out to make a snowman with us, or what?” Steve asks, hands on his hips as he waits.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll be right there!” Eddie calls back. “We’re just making up for lost time,” he adds, winking at you before planting a wet, sloppy kiss to your cheek.

You feel whole in this moment, with Eddie’s arm around your waist. What you thought would be a horrible Christmas turned out to be the brightest one, and having Eddie home is the best gift you could’ve asked for; even if it was a rocky start. He’s yours, and you’re his. This is the way it should always be, you’re undoubtedly certain of that now.

“Let’s go, sweetheart,” he says. “Forever starts right now.”

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sunshine-theseus · 4 months

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Everything’s Changed | Andrea Medina x Reader

Words: 1.7k Summary: your childhood best friend just disappears, then comes back like nothing happened. Warnings: angst, i think that's it Requested by @liverpoolfan96

The world was still after she left. Well for you at least. Birds didn’t sing as you made the walk to her house, winds didn’t rustle through your pale pink hair or the now dull green leaves of the trees that littered the side of the roads, and there was only a ghost of someone who should’ve been clung to your arm.

The gold necklace that gleams in the sun feels like a noose around your neck, only seeming to grow tighter with every step as you encroach on her parent’s door. You carefully place your foot on the sparsely spread stones that lead you through the decadent garden, similar to how you would when you were a child. The same journey had been made every day for the past 15 years of your life, but there was something that hung in the air that made this one different.

Memories of the girl you’ve found hard to forget, laughing and rushing past you as her parents call for you both to come inside for dinner, flash through your head. 5 years old, 11, 14. You both grow, maturity slowly taking over your rounded cheeks and toothless smiles, but the dynamic never changes; two girls so obviously meant to be in each other’s life.

The memories end abruptly when the door is swung open, and you’re met with someone you don’t expect.

“Andrea-” your lips can’t stop the gasp that tickles your throat as the familiar brunette beams down at you, light reflecting off the identical gold chain that rests against her collar bone.

All other words seem caught in your throat and Andrea doesn’t seem intent on saying anything, so you stumble through the open doorway and into the kitchen where you know you’ll find her parents. They have similar smiles as the girl who now trails behind you. You were never supposed to see her again, why on earth is she here.

“Surprise!” echoes through the house that is suddenly lacking the warmth you associate it with.

“Qué está sucediendo? Por qué has vuelto?” (What is happening? Why is she back?) it feels a little hard to breathe as your eyes dart between the three bodies that surround you, none of them rushing to answer.

“¡Tuvo un tiempo libre y volvió a casa!” (She had some time off and came home!) it’s difficult for you to feel the anger and sadness in the pit of your stomach when the woman who is a second mum to you is so bright with joy.

“Sí!” Andrea finally chimes in, simply to support her mum’s statement, but she says nothing else.

“Ah, well I actually, um… I completely forgot but I won’t be able to uh… to help with your garden this evening. A lot of university work to do… you know.” Her face saddens and you almost tell her that you can cram it all in later tonight, another lie despite yourself, but you don’t.

Turning around to leave after pressing a kiss to her cheek, its embarrassing how quickly you forgot Andrea was looming behind you as you almost run straight into her. An awkward shuffle takes place before you manage to take a step around her and make your way today the door. The wood slots into its frame rather loudly behind you, but is closely followed by a familiar silence that blankets the town, not unlike the one that had taken over your life after Andrea left.

The aforementioned girl stalks closely behind you, barely sliding through the gap before the door to her family’s house closes.

“Y/N! Wait!” she reaches for you, but the pleas are ignored as you make your way down the street, a short walk to your own family’s house, but not short enough.

Andrea jogs to catch up, the exercise not phasing her in any way before she grabs your arm and spins you around.

“Would you just wait a second? Where are you going?”

“Home.” You tug your arm, trying to escape her steel grip.

“I thought you’d be much more excited! You can stay over and we can stay up and talk all night like we used to.” She’s so happy it almost makes you sick.

“Why would I want that Andrea?” the anger comes bubbling back when her face morphs into shock. How does she act like things are normal?

“W- what do you mean?”

“Why would I want to act like everything hasn’t changed? Everything changed when you left and never fucking bothered to tell me. When you blocked my fucking number. When you broke our promise. Everything changed.”

“I did it for a reason! Hear me out!” her voice carries through the empty street, but you continue your walk home.

“I don’t fucking care!” a sharp turn left and you’re pushed up against the brick wall of Señora Estrella García’s house, a lovely cook who would give your dad and you any leftovers she made on the weekends.

“Would you listen to me!?” Anger is present on her face but desperation and sadness float in her eyes.

“If you think this will get me to listen you are severely mistaken. Gilipollas” (shithead). You push against her, something that once was quite effective when the two of you were roughhousing in the streets, but clearly the professional training had given her an advantage as she doesn’t budge.

“No seas estúpida por favor.” (don’t be stupid please) you groan but sit against the wall, clearly not being able to escape any time soon.

Andrea takes a spot in front of you, your knees pressing against each other.

“Óscar, my head coach, he made me promise there would be absolutely no distractions. It was your birthday, when I spent a lot of the day checking my phone to talk to you between workouts and training drills. Coincidentally I was playing really badly that day anyway. Well he pulled me aside at the end of training and told me if I kept it up, they’d have to let me go, that maybe I wasn’t actually a good fit for the team.” Her hands rest on her knees, palms facing up, and you slowly inch your own towards them as she speaks.

“I planned to just ghost for a couple days to get back in the zone. I’d explain it to you and I’d fix my performance then we’d go back to normal. But it seemed he always had something to criticise me on, so I kept extending the time frame. Until like two months passed by and I hadn’t answered any messages from you. I thought maybe even receiving the messages and calls was what was distracting me. So I blocked your number.” Andrea’s voice shakes but seems to relax when your fingertips graze her’s.

“Okay well you then also didn’t come home for a year and a half. Every time you had a break your family went to you instead. And you could have had one of them explain it to me. There is no excusing what you did Dre.” Andrea suddenly looks awfully similar to the girl from your childhood. The furrowed brows and downturn of her lips an exact replica of the face she made when her parents told her off for eating too many lollies before a game.

“I know-”

“And you broke our promise. ‘No matter what happens, where we go, we’ll find our way back to each other, we’ll always keep in touch.’” You can feel the tears welling up and blink furiously to fight them back.

“I know. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” you both lean forward and rest your foreheads against one another.

“I’m home for the summer, I want to make it up to you in any way I can.” You find yourself staring into her eyes in the same fashion you always had. A soft gaze filled with pure love, hard for anyone to ignore.

With one glance at her lips, Andrea lifts her hand and loops a finger around the chain that no longer feels like it may carry you to your death, and pulls your lips to her’s. The kiss isn’t anything special, but you can feel the love that surges between you with every movement of your lips and your own pointer finger similarly wraps around the matching chain around her neck, pulling you impossibly closer to one another.

“I want to have my best friend back.” you murmur against her lips.

~~~~~

Three weeks pass by, and Andrea and you meet at the fountain at the crossroad of your two streets every morning at 10:19am. Your particular streets have always been suspiciously deserted apart for the cars that line the driveways and the rush of people on their way to and from work.

The first hour of your daily meeting is usually spent making out on the lip of the fountain, before Andrea escorts you to whatever she has planned for the day. Most of her ideas revolve around things you loved to do together as kids. Sneaking to the roof top of the corner store to watch over the people below you, playing in the fútbol field before sitting under the giant carob tree and eating random snacks, the arts museum.

“You’re paying!” you laugh as you run past Andrea into your tía’s restaurant.

“Again?” a joking groan escapes her lips as she pulls your chair out for you.

“I mean if you don’t want to make up ignoring me for years then I can pa-”

“No! No no I’ve got it.” A cheeky smile pulls at your lips as her forehead wrinkles in worry.

“I’m only joking bebita.” You lean over the table and peck her lips, taking a hold of her hand.

“Thank you for the past few weeks, I really appreciate it.” She beams down at you as you thank her.

“I’d do anything for you.”

“Like get the paella to share?”

“Ay bebé you know I hate seafood.”

“Is this enough of an incentive?” you lean over the table once again and take a hold of her chin between your thumb and pointer finger, ghosting your lips over her’s before pressing against them firmly.

“Sí.” It’s a breathless agreement after you pull away.

“Te amo. Estoy feliz de que hayas regresado.” (I love you. I’m happy you’re back)

“Me too.” You share a smile, hearts fluttering as you gaze at each other.

Always meant to be.

#woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #womens soccer #spanish footballer #spain wnt #andrea medina #andrea medina x reader

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qvrcll · 10 months

Text

no smooth roads for us

Summary: Clive tries to keep his strength at bay. You admonish him for it. Warnings: explicit content / NSFW, rough sex, female reader anatomy, use of the word ‘minx’, dirty talk. A/N: My first time writing for Clive! This was a journey. I want to keep writing for him — reblog’s / comments are always appreciated! :)

You discover quickly that Clive fucks you like he fights.

It starts with the gentlest of kisses, searing hot like a burn from the sun itself. Shy, but he doesn’t mean for it to be. He remedies that by driving you against him till there is no space to give, only his chest that beats with some gratifying noise when you’re bare and naked for him to witness every inch of it.

You don’t tell him, but you like it when you holds you close and fucks you rough. His fingers, calloused with the fatal semblance of war, prove your excitement as they prod and grope at your skin experimentally. He’d fucked you rough once before and refrained from it again — a fear of breaking you, he thinks. He plays it soft now.

When you moan, shudder against the splay of his fingers against the share of your muscle, the pebbled crest of your nipples, he leads his fingers further. Deeper. He tries to ignore the burning heat curdling at his hip, for you, but the intrusion against your thigh is so hard to miss.

Clive — please, touch me, comes your plea.

The madness in your voice makes the blood rush to his cock. It ruins him, makes him want to consume you whole right here, from the heat of his lap. He fights it, though, still, and his jaw bulges from the effort of it.

He begins again, tries to create and follow a slower acclivity. Maybe he could finger you, eat you out, pleasure you delicately beneath the weight of his hot, heavy fingers.

There — there you go, my love.

He splits you open deliciously slow and his remaining fingers swim against the wetness collecting on your clit. There’s a familiar rhythm amped by the joint effort of his fingers on and in your cunt but you want more of something different. A fuck thoroughly rough that you know he can manage.

It’s you who wrenches his hand from your cunt with a disappointing pop — he thinks he’s upset you in some shape or form, that he’s pleasured you too dully or too hard, but soon comes to learn that you’re acting like brat.

Come, now, my love — don’t be like that, he warns. His voice is addictively firm and set, which in turn fuels your need for more. You attempt to wiggle out his grip, piss him off further, but the flux presses against his throbbing, oozing cock, which has already spilt some of its seed against his stomach with the wait.

Don’t — his resolves works no more. His voice is more shout than reason, as he delivers your arms with a bruising feeling from the steely grip they have on them. He’s lost his patience, and his mind, pushing you into the ground with none of the prior promise of tenuity. You’ve angered him, gotten what you want finally.

Is this what you wanted, you minx? Are you happy?

He drives your ass into the floor, kneads it within the roughness of his palm like dough. On regular days, he would work you open till you were gushing and open to a guaranteed degree. Now, he primes his intrusion of your cunt with an animalistic growl, his cock pushing in till you’ve had your fill.

Rough enough?

He mocks you. Gives you no room to recover. Batters your cunt again and again with the rough slap of his hips. He grins wickedly when you cry hot, fat tears and goes to mock you once more.

Why are you crying? Isn’t this what you wanted? Could’ve sat still while I worked you open but you wanted it rough — I’m giving you rough.

You’d never thought it would be this good, this illusive. He flips you till your back faces him, and ploughs into you like none before, delivers messy and violent shocks across your body. There’s barely any touch to his ministrations, just push, as he drives your head against the floor — in the name of take it, take it, I know you can take it.

He suffocates your senses — you clamp harshly against his cock with a loud cry, unsure of your bearings. Your body spasms underneath the weight of his and when he finished with his business, taken his fill as he shatters inside you, he’s quick to smother the quickness of this violence.

I’m — I’m sorry — are you hurt? I got ahead of myself — I’m sorry, my love.

You hush him with shaking hands, and as much as your fingers reject motion, you cradle his cheeks in your palm. The reflective heat from them comforts Clive, leaves him with the blatant truth that this is what you had wanted — and now that you had it, you weren’t in it to stop.

There’s a strange curl to his lips, with the knowledge that comes to him softly in the after-burn.

He liked playing rough.

#clive rosfield x reader #clive rosfield x you #clive rosfield imagine #clive rosfield fanfic #final fantasy 16 x reader #final fantasy fanfic #final fantasy fic #ffxvi x reader #ffxvi imagine #ffxvi fanfic

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tenaciousjalapeno · 7 months

Text

Testing The Cat Lady

1/?

Pairing: LA Buggy the Clown x Reader

Summary: Captain Buggy invades your small town because that's kind of his thing. Your methods of escape pique his interest, so he drops everything and drags you back to his tent for a little chat. However, you're enraged when you realize that your beloved cat is nowhere to be seen.

Warnings: language

Word Count: 2300

A/N: This is my first time writing really anything, so please don’t be mean or I’ll cry. Kind of experimenting and finding my own style, so I can't promise consistency lol. Definitely open to any tips/pointers

A bright light rouses you from your sleep. Ugh. Everything is sore. Your heavy eyelids protest as you force them open, being met with a blue-haired man in clown makeup standing mere feet from you. A gasp escapes your dry, bound mouth as you’re jolted back into reality, tensing every muscle in your body. Much to your chagrin, you can’t move an inch. Checking yourself over, you see that your hands and feet are bound to a circular board.

The man turns toward you. “Wellll, good morning, sleepyhead! Hope you enjoyed your nap,” the man says with a large smile plastered across his face. However, the smile is anything but friendly. His tone is hostile, and his eyes are cold. You glance around the room, but it’s difficult to discern where you are. A large spotlight shines upon you and the clown, dousing anything outside of its beam with darkness.

Anxiety builds in the pit of your stomach. You mumble against the cloth stuffed into your mouth, trying to ask what the hell is going on. “Ah, ah, ah,” he scolds, waving a finger in front of you. “I saw your little show back in town. That’s why I dragged your sorry ass back here.” He paces in front of you, never dropping eye contact. All humor has left his face, a mixture of irritation and curiosity left in its place.

Of course, you know what he’s referencing. It was your devil fruit ability.

Earlier in the day, the unexpected and unwelcomed bell rang across town to warn that pirates were nearing. From your hilltop bungalow on the outskirts of town, the brightly colored ship bearing a Jolly Roger sail was visible. It appeared to be far enough out for you to have time to gather some belongings before evacuating, so you did exactly that. However, you underestimated how prepared the crew was. Several bands of pirates had already surrounded your town, one of which infiltrated your small neighborhood. Panic set in, and adrenaline rushed through you. So, as if on instinct, you started to sing.

Back in your teenage years, you were a traveler. Never staying in one place for too long, you visited dozens of islands and adventured through both large cities and undeveloped areas alike. One of your escapades led you to a devil fruit – the Hum-Hum fruit, to be exact. Being the adventurer you were, how could you resist?

It gave you the ability to influence peoples’ emotions by singing to them. It had its pros and cons, but ultimately made a good defensive ability. It helped you out of a lot of sticky situations throughout your journeys right up until you decided to settle on this island and call it home. You acclimated to the friendly town easily and even befriended a scruffy orange kitten, who you decided to call Mango.

Overwhelming the pirates with a false, but intense fear, they cowered before you as you slowly backed away with a small rucksack and Mango held against your che- Wait. Mango!

You start thrashing against your restraints, hurling muffled expletives at this blue-haired jackass. What the fuck did they do with him?

He smiled again, genuinely this time, finally getting the reaction that he wanted from you. “You seem like you’ve got something to say, doll,” he states, pleased with himself. “I’ll be gracious enough to let you explain what you were doing to my freaks.” Is this an opening? “Oh, and my cauliflower-eared friend, Klaus, here is going to make sure you don’t try anything.” A large man with scarred ears steps into the light, startling you. No. It was not, in fact, an opening. The big, dumb-looking guy steps forward and removes your gag. He then takes a step back, mumbling something to the blue-haired man. You’re not positive, but you’re pretty sure he called the blue-haired man “captain.” So this guy is the captain of the invading pirates? Doesn’t look like much, you thought.

The captain stares at you eagerly, waiting for an explanation. You meet his gaze with a glare, seething and ready for a fight. “What did you do with my cat?” His face falls in disbelief.

“What?” he asks incredulously.

“Where. Is. My. Cat!”

He stares back, taking a moment to fully process your words before he starts flailing and yells, “A cat? Buggy the Clown – captain of the most dreaded pirate crew the East Blue has ever known – has you tied up and helpless, ready to kill you if I have to, and you’re worried about a fucking cat?” Of course you are. Mango’s your best friend. Also, “most dreaded?” You’ve never even heard of him. This Buggy guy seems to think highly of himself. He pinches the bridge of his nose with a defeated sigh. “I don’t know where your cat is. That is not the point. Now tell me what you were doing to my men!”

This guy clearly doesn’t comprehend how much you love your cat and how bull-headed you can be.

“I’m not answering anything until I have my cat back.”

“Fuck!” Buggy steps out of the light. You can’t see him, but you can hear him still yelling, utterly frustrated. “You, you, and you! Go find this dumbshit cat!”

You finally relax against the board, pleased. “He’s orange with a blue ribbon around his neck,” you call in a sing-song voice toward the darkness.

Buggy returns to the light and comes close, only stopping once your noses – wait is that clown nose real? – are nearly touching. “Once they bring that stupid cat back, you’re answering any question I’ve got.”

“Whatever you say, captain,” you reply, smirking. With a final huff, he steps once more into the darkness. Initially, you were filled to the brim with fear, but seeing how much of an idiot this guy is puts you at ease. It takes roughly 30 minutes before you finally hear hissing and yowling in the distance. Atta boy, Mango. Give ‘em hell.

Another man, this one wearing a bear hood, steps into the light holding Mango out as far away from his body as possible. Bear-boy is clearly scratched to shit and relieved to finally be able to get this thing away from him. He drops your cat and dips back into the darkness as quickly as possible. Mango lets out another loud hiss before calming at the sight of you and trotting over to rest at your feet.

Buggy walks back up to you, clearly no less aggravated than he was earlier. “Now answer my questions, shithead! What were you doing to my men?” The nicknames are getting a little more aggressive now, huh?

You shoot him a dirty look and slowly choose your words while looking down to make sure your cat hasn’t been harmed. His tail is puffed out in anger, but he seems fine otherwise. “I was singing to them,” you reply matter-of-factly.

The clown’s face falls again, in stark contrast of the large, red smile painted onto his face. “Singing,” he repeats flatly. “You were singing.” It’s not even a question so much as a statement. The gears in his head start turning, and he mumbles to himself. “I figured it was a witch’s incantation or something. How does singing have any effect on my men?”

“It’s my devil fruit ability.” His face whips toward you. This clearly has his interest piqued. As fun as it would be to torment this clown, you just want to get out of these restraints, so you decide to give him the information he so clearly wants outright. “I ate the Hum-Hum fruit. I can control peoples’ emotions by singing to them.”

Licking his lips and smiling, Buggy stares at you even more intently now. “Show me.”

“Let me down first.” Bargaining might not be in your cards right now, but you decide it’s worth a shot. Surprisingly, the bold request pays off though, as the captain comes forward to undo your restraints. With him this close, you notice that he has a surprisingly nice floral scent.

“I’ll need an audience,” you say, rubbing your sore wrists once freed. With a nod, he looks into the darkness and jerks his head, motioning for several unseen crewmates to come closer. Scooping Mango up off the ground, you finally step out of the oppressive spotlight. It takes a minute for your eyes to fully adjust, but you take in the room. It’s more of a tent, really, with striped tarps set up and seating placed around the edge. Fitting, you suppose, for a circus clown to reside in a circus tent. Your eyes land on your small audience seated on the benches. It’s only four people, one of which is Bear-boy, now with gauze wrapped around his hands and forearms. Smiling back down at Mango, you give him some scritches under his chin, making him purr softly. What a good boy.

“Alright, doll. Go ahead.” Back to the nice nicknames now that he’s getting his way, it seems. Holding up your end of the bargain, you fulfill his request. This captain is a fool though, letting you freely use your ability. Once you’ve got them cowering again, you’re going to book it out of the tent. The big, cauliflower-eared guy can’t hear you, but you should still be able to outrun him.

As you start singing, the captain watches on with a large smile, looking back and forth between you and your audience. They laugh, then cry, then start yelling and throwing punches at each other. But… Why isn’t Buggy reacting? A gloved hand – a dismembered hand – flies forward and clasps your mouth shut. Holy shit! You jump back with wide eyes, but the hand follows. Looking back to the captain, you see that his smile has grown impossibly wide. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the audience scurry away. What the hell is he trying to pull? Eyeing him up and down you notice that his left arm ends in a stump. Wasn’t there a hand there before? The moment your eyes dart back up to his face a set of what appear to be ears comes flying toward him and pop back onto the sides of his head.

As much as you want to, your body is too frozen in fear to back away. The clown releases your mouth and the hand returns to him and pops onto the end of his arm. He laughs at your expression and circles you. “What, you think you’re the only person who’s ever eaten a devil fruit? I myself ate the Chop-Chop fruit.” Right before your eyes, his body breaks apart into a dozen pieces before reassembling. So that’s why he wasn’t affected by your ability. He can’t hear you if his ears are off somewhere else. “You can slice me, and you can dice me, but I will always put myself back together again.”

Klaus comes forward and grabs you by the arms, making Mango fall to the ground. He once again stands before your feet hissing at the captain in a feeble attempt to protect you. Buggy’s detached hand flies toward your cat grabbing him by the scruff and pulls him up toward his face. Mango writhes, trying to free himself to no avail.

“No!” you scream. “You leave him alone!”

That annoyingly perpetual smile remains plastered on Buggy’s face. Four daggers slide from his coat, one between each of his fingers, in a clear attempt to intimidate you. “Or what?” You have no answer for him. In ideal circumstances, you could influence him to lose interest in both you and your cat, but being bound by a big deaf guy seriously limits your chances of escape. The feelings of panic and despair from earlier are flooding back to you. Tears fall down your face.

“I- I don’t know,” you admit with a small sob. “Please don’t hurt him. He’s all I have.”

Buggy’s smile falters for a moment at your begging. If you blinked, you would have missed it. Recovering his smile again, he taps the daggers against his chest, pretending to mull over your pleas. “Alright, I won’t.” He steps closer again, now inches away from you. “If you join my crew, that is. You could prove useful.”

You look up at him. His blue-green eyes – which are admittedly, the most beautiful you’ve ever seen – stare back at you intently. Inexplicably, there’s a flutter in your chest, but it’s quickly replaced with a hard drop as Mango lets out another yowl. “Okay,” you whisper, nodding. “I’ll join your crew. Just please give me back my cat.” He takes a step back and his hand comes forward to place Mango back into your arms. You hold your scared pet to your chest, stroking him in an attempt to soothe both him and yourself.

“Cabaji,” Buggy shouts, summoning a man with strange striped hair forward. “We just added another showstopping member to our crew. This is cause for celebration, don’t you think?” The man, Cabaji, nods and disappears into another room off the main tent. The clown turns to face you once more, his smile more subtle now. He grabs your arm and dismisses Klaus. For a split second, you consider taking this chance to run, but something tells you that your freedom would be short-lived. “I’m so happy you decided to join me, doll,” he says much more softly now. “You and your little friend there will make a nice addition to the show.”

Wrapping his arm around you, he steers toward the door that Cabaji left through moments ago. He leans down close to your ear, his breath tickling as he quietly states, “By the way, songbird. I’ve got a strict agreement with Mohji to not hurt cats.”

#one piece buggy #buggy the clown #buggy x reader #one piece #buggy live action #captain buggy #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown x you

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xxladyballadxx · 4 months

Text

Open Your Heart

Joshua Rosfield x Reader

Summary: Your lover Joshua Rosfield, the dominant of Phoenix, urges you to open up to him instead of always pushing him away.

(Note: This is quite similar to the one I wrote ages ago)

~ dividers by @/cafekitsune ~

You were never the type to talk about your feelings to anyone, even Joshua. He has been very concerned about your wellbeing. So is everyone at the hideaway. The other day, Jill knew something was wrong with you and she wanted to comfort you. You pushed her away and gave her the cold shoulder. Which made her upset and more worried.

Next was Clive coming to try and talk to you, he even summoned you to his chambers wishing to speak to you in private. He said to you once that if you ever feel sad or angry, you can always talk to him or Jill. You did none of that. None. You continued to behave like this and not to talk to anyone about how you’re feeling.

Clive didn’t have the urge to stop you from leaving his chambers so he just sat there, not knowing what to do. When Joshua came back from his journey, Clive had a word with him talking about you.

Joshua told his older brother that you have been avoiding him quite a lot these past few days, he wondered why and Clive wasn’t really happy about it. He didn’t appreciate your behavior towards his own younger brother, even to Jill. Joshua promised Clive that he will talk to you. He rushed to your room and beat your door with a knock, “(Y/n)? Are you in there?”

“Please go away…” You mumbled, urging him to leave you alone. You know Joshua, he’s not going to leave until you tell him what’s wrong. Joshua sighed, having no choice but to open the door and slammed it in anger behind him, “Do you truly mean to hurt me this way, (Y/n)? By pushing me away and not talking to me about the things that are bothering you? ”

“Joshua, I-” Your words were cut off when Joshua marched closer to you, dropping on one knee and holding your hand, “Please do not continue to hurt me like this, (Y/n). I don’t want you to keep pushing me away…” his gaze was too sad to look at. Even though you couldn’t look away from him. By the tone of his voice, you could tell that he was hurting. Hurting for you. He sat by you on your bed, still holding your hand, “Open your heart to me, (Y/n), don’t keep it shut forever…”

You heaved a long-short sigh of defeat, finally making eye contact with Joshua by your side. Perhaps you were too aloof towards him, to Clive and everyone. This helped you to realize that you’ve been shutting yourself away from people that care about you, even Joshua….

You buried your face sorrowfully into your hands, breaking down in tears as Joshua held you in his arms, “I’m so sorry…” you mumbled a apology in a low voice, “I’m just so fucking tired…” You looked up to Joshua in the eye with that crying face, “All this bloodshed, the war, everything. I don’t even know where to start. Ever since my family abandoned me of what I’ve become so long ago, I’ve been feeling so isolated and lost. Every night, I get nightmares of everyone I know leaving me… ”

Joshua felt a sting of pain deep in his heart, he hates to see you like this so much that it saddens him whenever you feel like the whole world is falling all around you. Tearing you apart piece by piece, bone by bone. “I wonder if I deserve to live or not. I asked myself that every day. I even wonder if people will care if I’m gone…” your words were deeper than a sword, it became a poison to Joshua. It wounded him mentally and physically, his heart shattered when you said those things. You were being very hard on yourself and Joshua is hurting because of those words that upset up entirely.

“(Y/n), please don’t say those things like that. You know how much it hurts me!” Joshua cried with his voice breaking, his eyes were becoming watery but you couldn’t tell if he wanted to cry or not, “I would never truly be myself if you were gone.” He tightened the hold on your hand, his gaze locked on you, “I will never forgive myself if anything happens to you. Without you, (Y/n), I am empty. My life won’t be the same without you.”

Does he actually mean that?

Of course he does…

Your heart cried out after hearing those words from him, the little cracks on your heart were slowly beginning to fade. Your eyes created a stream of tears, sliding down to your pale-salted cheeks.

Joshua snooped you into his arms, your head attached to his chest as he embraced you tenderly. “You are my greatest gift to me, (Y/n) and I am truly blessed to have you in my life. Never forget you will always have me…and the others too.”

“I’m so sorry, Joshua…” you whimpered, your crying face still buried on his chest.

“It’s alright, my love.”

“I need to go and apologize to Clive and Jill for my unacceptable behavior….”

“I will come with you, love.”

~~~~~~~~

You gave a few knocks on Clive’s door, you have this feeling that he’s going to open with that scowling look on his face. Once the door was opened by him, no sense of anger came from him “(Y/n)..” Clive looked at you with worry, he didn’t seem angry.

“Clive I’m-” you were interrupted when Jill rushed past Clive to hug you in comfort, “(Y/n)! We were so worried about you!” you returned the hug as you apologized, “I’m sorry for the other day, I didn’t mean to upset you both. Same with Joshua and everyone else here. It was never intentional…”

Clive smiled serenely, “What matters now is that you're feeling better, (Y/n). Remember that you are never alone.”

“All is forgiven, (Y/n).” Says Jill with a reassuring soft smile, “We will always look out for you. Just know that we support you all the way. If you ever need someone to talk to, me and Clive will be here to listen.”

You hugged Jill once again and then next was Clive, “Thank you…I can’t tell how much this means to me..”

All was sorted out to the end, you thought Clive would be mad for you hurting Jill’s feelings. He wasn’t at all. He accepted your apology as he and Jill comforted you. It seemed that Clive didn’t want to upset you more by being angry with you, that could be the reason why.

Joshua dragged you to the balcony to watch the horizon with him. You motioned your body to cuddle up next to his, holding his arm with such tenderness. He smiled gracefully down to you, pecking a kiss on your forehead and looked back to the scenery with the sun’s bliss of radiant glow flowing across the horizon.

“It’s beautiful…”

“Yes but…” Joshua turned to you as he pressed down his hands softly onto your shoulders, leaning to collide his lips towards yours, “Not as beautiful as you are, my love.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

a/n - Is it just me or are there not enough fanfics of Joshua Rosfield fanfics on here? (ㅠ﹏ㅠ)

Anyways, hope you all liked this!

UNTIL NEXT TIME 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

#final fantasy xvi #ffxvi #ff16 #final fantasy 16 #joshua rosfield #ffxvi x reader #joshua rosfield x reader #joshua rosfield x you #final fantasy xvi x reader #ffxvi angst

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forgeofthenine · 5 months

Note

I got bit by another idea bug and I blame you for reblogging the “Single Dad Dammon” post. I see that and raise you “Tav and Dammon were together before the fall and got separated because Tav was away when the city fell”. (The Tav in the scenario that bit me is not a tiefling, mainly because mine isn’t but this narrative does also work with a tief Tav)

And then when they’re freed from the hells, he has no idea how to find you and you have no idea how to find him. But gods you try. You follow every scrap of a rumor once you’re done grieving and manage to pull yourself together when you can accept that yes, for now (only for now, it can only be for now, please gods don’t let this be life from now on) your husband and child are gone. You chase every thread of hope until there’s nothing left to give and then you move onto the next. The old adventuring instincts you buried when you put away your weapons and armor come screaming back to life from where they went dormant the second you found yourself caught by a pair of eyes like the sunrise over the horizon.

And then you get the word that the city is back and you immediately turn and start running home. But before you can make it there you here word about the city exiling all the tieflings and you can only force yourself to march on, listening for any word of where they may be headed while a white hot rage burns in your chest at the thought of your family going through yet more hardship.

You finally learn that the exiles are heading to Baulder’s Gate and you make your way there, beating the crowds and finding a place to live in the city. (You’ve amassed a small fortune in your recent travels, but it was already a struggle to force yourself just to survive and frivolities held no joy. The only exception was if some little bauble or trinket caught your eye that you thought either of them would enjoy.)

You spend days checking with those managing the influx of refugees, checking multiple times a day for if their names have come though with no results. Logically, in the part of your mind that has to know these things, not everyone who disappeared would have survived Avernus. Ever more have probably fallen on the journey to a new home. But you can’t think about that. They will make it, you will hold them again. You will. (You dont know what you’ll do if you can’t)

One day you overhear some of the newer arrivals talking about the troubles on the road with the goblins and the Absolute’s cult and this is a problem you can help with. You had no way to get to the hells and save your family, never mind rescue your entire city (because as much as you want to, as much as you would want to take your family and run, you would have to try) but goblins and cultists? These are mortal issues that can be solved by mortal means. So you once again put away your sensible clothes, you lock up your new home and task a neighbor with watching it while you’re away and head off, newly armed.

Your maybe a day or two from the city when you get snatched by the Nautiloid and now you have a whole new host of problems to deal with and as much as you wish you could abandon everything and keep searching, you’re no good to anyone dead or a mindflayer. And so you gather your new companions and march on.

Back at the Grove, Dammon is as settled as they can be when your hosts are already planning to chase them from the only safe refuge they’ve had in recent memory. The Archdruid who championed their stay is gone and Zevlor isn’t making any headway with Kagha. Now the goblins are literally at their door again and they’re just waiting until the druids push them into their arms when a ruckus at the gate swells and then suddenly ends. The sounds of battle outside fade to nothing and the gate is opened.

Those that left with Halsin rush in first, followed at a more sedate pace by your party. You have your talk with Zevlor and learn that this is another group of refugees from Elturel. It takes a moment for your heart to catch up with your mind after the conversation ends and suddenly you’re moving, scanning every face you pace, looking for those eyes. The sounds of the world fade away as your ears are full of nothing but a roaring. You pass the training area, your companions following you worriedly. One shouts your name as you head into the common area the tieflings are sharing and Dammon head snaps up at the sound. Your eyes track the movement as a result of years of habit and there he is.

Your reunion is slow, you’ve never been one for big showy emotions but that does nothing to stop the tears from beginning to pour from your eyes as you abruptly start forward towards him.

Dammon is frozen as you walk towards him. He slowly puts down his tools and takes off his apron, convinced that every move he makes will wipe away the mirage he’s sure you are. And yet you’re still there, still walking towards him. He can see the tears and he longs to wipe them away. Then you’re in front of him and you don’t know which one of you reaches for the other first but you hold each other so tight you know there’ll be bruises. It’s only when your child runs up to you and cries out for you that you separate for a moment and come back together again, the three of you bundled tightly with Dammon holding you both so securely that you wondered how you hadn’t fallen apart without him.

I can honestly see it going either way after that, either Dammon joins your camp (because like hell is he letting you run off without them so soon. And you may as well be together anyway, the last time he and your child stayed behind for safety the hells opened up and swallowed their city.)

Or you separate with plans to meet up in Baulder’s Gate once you’re safe again and then reuniting at the Last Light instead. He confess how guilty he feels for running with your child, how others might have been saved if he stayed but he couldn’t take that risk. You hold him while he shakes with his guilt and kiss his brow, his cheeks, his lips, whatever you can while you thank you for saving your child and himself. 🪻

I'm honestly so obsessed with this you won't even believe-

The idea of a short trip separating you from loved ones for weeks, not even knowing if they're alive or if you might see them again. That sweet relief of reuniting (and the palpable confusion of the rest of your group), the needing to figure out 'whats next?'

I'd honestly love a way for Tavs to have a previous connection to existing NPCs (other than durge and Orin/Gortash), even if just from a roleplaying perspective. I adore this though, I always love seeing what you send in flower anon <3

#bri rambles #bri answers #bg3 #bg3 dammon #dammon x reader #flower anon

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nomazee · 1 year

Text

the sun told me so

dan heng + march 7th x reader

word count: 2.4k

summary: It must be something in the heat. Your head swirls with feelings and temperatures and the rush of ocean water pushing and pulling against your feet is giving you vertigo. Or maybe it’s the looks that March and Dan Heng are giving you.

content: beach day, unrequited feelings, a little bittersweet, mostly just sweet though, crushes, developing relationships, dan heng is a closed door and march is an open book, vague love triangle maybe

notes: hi guys i started playing honkai star rail and my brain is ROTTING and i love dan heng but i also love march and this was supposed to take a different plot but then i was like no i LOVE march and so it became this... no i don’t know how to characterize either of them (i never know how to characterize anyone ever) but i hope this is GOOD okay love u all bye bye

<><><><><>

“Dan Heng,” you say. “The beach.”

It’s simple enough. Just a statement, with an underlying pleading tone as you stand in front of him. There’s a good gap between you both. A safety buffer. An airbag of comfort as you shift your weight from side to side and shuffle your feet. March is somewhere behind you, shoving miscellaneous beach items in an oversized tote bag and humming to herself, unaware of the staredown you’re having with Dan Heng.

It’s a very one-sided staredown. You’re trying to dig into his soul through his corneas and he’s looking in every direction except yours. You sigh. Obviously, you have some very one-sided feelings between you both, as well.

“I have work,” he finally says. “I need to organize the archives.” Which is probably a lie. Sure, you barely know how the archives work or where everything comes from, but you really doubt that whatever new entries Dan Heng has are so urgent that he can’t go to the beach with you and March.

It’s always like this. Excuse and excuse. You know you should stop trying by now.

You like Dan Heng, you really do. And he at least tolerates you, but it’s that one bit of decency that makes you cling onto some imaginary hope that maybe he’ll like you as much as you like him. It’s really not a fun mix of things. Sometimes you wish he’d just deny you outright so that you wouldn’t keep clinging onto your wishful thinking, over and over and over.

Aside from that, the beach—the beach is a special thing. March told you it’s been a while since they’ve seen a beach through their journeys on the Astral Express, and so passing through this planet for something-or-other and seeing an open shore was a pleasant surprise. It’s no kidding that you all jumped at the chance to take a trip and relax in the sand. Even Welt was easy to convince.

Dan Heng. Oh, Dan Heng. What an enigma to you. You snap back to awareness and remind yourself where you are right now. Standing in front of this unnervingly quiet man and waiting for him to have a change of heart. It won’t happen. But you stand for a few extra seconds, waiting. Waiting. Shifting your feet. Waiting.

You feel a hand close around yours and turn your head to see March. She has her overstuffed tote bag slung over her shoulder, a camera looped around her neck, and a sorry glimmer in her eyes. You return it, and soften from the almost defensive stance you had taken against Dan Heng. She looks into you for a moment, the way you tried looking into Dan Heng, before she turns to face the aforementioned man.

“Well, if you’re gonna be so lame—then take care of the Express while we’re gone! We’re heading out now,” she quips, and her fingers lock into yours. There’s a frigidity to them, something that would normally be disturbing but right now it serves to cool you down from the heat pouring into the Express through the open doors as Himeko and Welt beckon you to hurry up. “Bye, Dan Heng!”

“Goodbye,” you hear quietly behind you, and you don’t bother saying bye to him because March already said it—and, yeah, maybe because you’re still bitter, too. It’s the beach. Who doesn’t want to go to a beach after living on an intergalactic train for months?!

Well, whatever. The squeeze of March’s hand around yours grounds you and eases the tense look on your face. She lets out a heavy sigh through her nose and glances at you through the corner of her eye.

She knows. She has to know, but you’re fairly certain you’d explode if she ever mentioned it.

Despite her somewhat silly demeanor, March is more emotionally intelligent than she first lets on. Really, within the first week of living on the Express, you realized how wrong your first impression of her was. She’s smart—overwhelmingly so. There’s no doubt in your mind that she’s already well-aware of what your feelings towards Dan Heng are.

You feel ridiculous the further you walk with March. There’s a stirring in your chest that’s something parallel to heartache, but not quite. Something like embarrassment. You’re being childish. The Express was kind enough to give you a home with them and you can’t let that be ruined by some awkward feelings. By a crush. That would be so embarrassing.

Before you know it, you’re at the shore, and March’s fingers are still trapped between yours. You can’t seem to mind it. Himeko and Welt are a ways ahead of you, shoes loosely hanging from their hands as they walk through the sand barefoot and go towards the water. Welt is shouldering a large beach umbrella and Himeko has a bag of large towels, so you’re sure they’ll be fine setting up a spot to sit in while you and March hang back for a minute.

As you both trail along the sand in your open flip flops (yours a dark gray purchased from one of the shops in the urban part of town, and hers a bright pink from her own dusty collection), March turns to look at you one more time before opening her mouth.

“He’s not… He doesn’t mean to be so closed off,” she tells you earnestly. “Dan Heng, I mean. If he comes off as mean, he doesn’t mean it.”

“I know,” you say. And you really do know. “I’m not upset or anything. I think I was just… hoping. I always hope, with him.”

And it’s too honest. You’re being too honest, and it’s not that you distrust March with all the soft, tender, icky adoration in your heart, but it’s getting painful to say all these things. You want to just let it simmer out like any schoolkid crush, and you can’t do that if you keep talking about it—whether it’s to yourself or to March.

You clear your throat. It’s beach day. You’re not gonna be upset during beach day.

“Hey…” you start again, an amused tone creeping up your voice. “Do you even know how to swim?” A side glance at her confirms the growing blush along her neck—one that’s certainly not caused by the sun rays beaming down on the both of you.

“Well… I think being trapped in ice is like, basically swimming. I probably adapted to it or something.”

“That’s totally not how it works.”

“Says who!” March makes a disgruntled face, rolling her eyes and letting out a big groan. It’s endearing. She’s endearing.

Eventually, you both catch up with Welt and Himeko, and they’ve already set up the towels neatly and planted the umbrella between them. Himeko brought her own beach chair to lay on and you can’t help but be jealous as you shimmy onto a towel to perch yourself perfectly underneath the shade of the umbrella. March follows suit, laying beside you with half her body in the sun and the rest under the shade.

“You’re gonna get a sick tan line if you lay down like that, you know.”

“I’m not staying here forever! Just waiting for your slow butt to get in the water.”

Your cheeks pull up as you smile at her. Endearing endearing endearing. The stirring in your chest comes back but it’s much different this time. You try not to think too hard about it.

You sit up and hit her shoulder with your hand lightly. “Awe, you just love me soooo much that you’re willing to wait like that? So sweet!” Your voice takes on a lighthearted mocking tone as you tilt your head at her. “Then, let’s go. I won’t make you wait anymore. I know how impatient you get.

She follows you as you stand up and head over to the water. The air gets cooler the closer you get and the smell of salt starts to permeate your senses. “I’m not that impatient! Only about the important things.”

The important things. You think for a moment, and then will yourself to stop.

Your feet touch cold water and you look down to see yours and March’s feet submerged in the blue-green waves of the ocean. A big sigh reverberates through your chest as you feel the tension leave your body. March’s toenails are painted a light blue and pink to match her nails. Cute. You suddenly feel inadequate with your very unpainted nails. Maybe you should ask her to paint them for you when you get back.

It’s hot. So hot. You’d put on sunscreen before leaving the Express but you’re starting to think the sun has melted it off already. A rustle sounds from next to you, and it takes you a minute to even process the noise before you hear the sound of a camera shutter going off and suddenly your head snaps to face March and her stupid, mischievous grin and the sound of laughter bubbling in her chest.

“You did not!”

“Yes I did!”

“March! No way, delete that! I didn't know you were taking a picture!”

You lunge to take the camera away from her, which is a fruitless effort considering it’s still looped around her neck by the strap and she’s much too agile to get caught in your attempts to take it away from her. She lets out an evil laugh and you consider drowning her in the water and telling Welt and Himeko she disappeared in the ocean.

“That’s the point,” she says incredulously, “it’s called a candid, you know.”

“Candid-my-ass! There’s still sunscreen all over my face, I didn't blend it out right, delete that picture! I probably look pasty, oh my god March—”

“No way!” And now she’s looking down at the screen of the camera, probably looking at the horrific picture she just took of you—but she’s smiling. And not in her silly scheming kind of way. She’s smiling and she’s soft and the corners of her eyes crinkle and she’s avoiding looking at you in front of her, but her eyes are locked on you in her camera.

“It looks nice. You really look nice.” She looks up at you, now, finally, and you look at her and you can’t look anywhere else. “I mean it.”

With purpose. There is a purpose in her voice and in her eyes, and she’s looking into you again. You’re trying to close yourself away from her, but you can’t. Not when she’s like this. When she’s opening herself up in the way she looks at you—you can’t just avoid that.

So you soften. Your shoulders droop in a mix of contentment and purpose and you are suddenly lost. You’re suddenly back to being woken up by a maroon-haired woman and wondering where you’ll go, wondering what it’s all for, wondering who you are. The feeling repeats in your lungs over and over and you take a breath.

March says, “Hey,” with a tender smile that’s unlike anything you’ve seen before. You say, “Hey,” and your voice breaks at the end as you struggle to choke it out. She’s close. You didn't notice her feet shuffling closer to you and the depleting space between the both of you.

“Hey.”

And. The voice isn’t March’s. It’s not yours either, you’re sure of that. You turn to the side, and— It’s Dan Heng. In a ridiculous bright floral unbuttoned shirt and cargo shorts, both of which you’re sure are new items because there’s no way he’s owned those before.

It registers in your head after a moment. Dan Heng is at the beach. He’s at the beach, in front of you, in a newly bought summer outfit and the remnants of sunscreen on the tips of his ears.

“Dan Heng.” Now it’s March, and her voice is slightly strained and the flush on her neck has already crawled up to her ears. She backs up from you, and you’re warm now—in a bad way. In the worst way possible. Her hand has unlinked from yours a while ago and your stomach feels empty.

“Hi,” Dan Heng says again, oblivious to you and March’s internal discords. “Sorry. I finished updating the archives early and thought I would join you both. I had to buy new clothes.”

“I see that,” you smile, giving his outfit another once-over with a teasing tone. “The whole neon-florals thing is really going for you.”

A tint of amusement colors his eyes and his mouth twitches with it, too. “This wasn’t exactly my first choice of an outfit. I’m good at adapting to my environment, though.”

March has gone awfully quiet beside you and you resist the urge to reach out. To touch her palm to yours and lock your fingers together again. You don't know what’s happening to you, and you really really don’t want to think about it anymore. It’s beach day. Stop it.

“Sure you are,” you say with sarcasm, and that’s enough to get a hint of a laugh out of March and suddenly you’re easing up again and your limbs are loose. “March just took an awful photo of me, so I think I might jump her. Are you in, or what?”

“Wh— Hey!” The girl exclaims in protest, suddenly clutching onto her camera for dear life as she backs away from you with a mock-horrified look in her eyes. “You didn't say you were jumping me! I didn't do anything wrong! I’m totally innocent!”

Loose. You’re loose, and your hands are loose and your smile is tinting your face in warmth and when you jokingly step closer and lunge at March, you’re cooling down again. It’s a mix of sensations and you’re dizzy from the heat and from goofing around with March and from Dan Heng’s eyes trailing yours. Loose.

“You’re totally not.”

“Dan Heng!” She looks to him for defense, and finds none. “Seriously! Back me up, here.”

He does not. His expression is doused in mirth in his own subtle way and you feel yourself starting to smile—with teeth. You clamp your mouth shut.

“I don’t know, March… You’re not making a good case for yourself.” “Jerk!”

And you push March around and laugh in her face and feel the cold of her skin brush against yours as you chase each other along the shoreline, Dan Heng following close behind you and letting out short laughs as he watches you both. You lunge at March and run across the water with her and the ocean is cold, almost frigid, and the beating of the sun heats up your blood and you use that as the excuse for why your forehead is so warm when March brushes her fingers against your face.

Excuses and excuses. It’s always that way with you, isn’t it.

#honkai star rail #hsr #dan heng x reader #march 7th x reader #honkai #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai x reader #march 7 x reader #honkai star rail fanfiction #dan heng #march 7th #march x reader

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gx-gameon · 20 days

Note

When it's time to go to the Dark World to rescue Jesse, do any of the DM crew join the GX kids or no?

This is my Great War. Every day I think about this idea.

Because there are three options here.

1) They stay behind

The portal closes before they can get there. And they are forced to wait.

Now as I wrote here Seto does still have the dimension pod that he used to go to the afterlife and duel Atem. However they were using them to try and track down Jesse. If they get left behind they won’t stay there for long. But I don’t know if they would try and lock on to Jaden or Jesse.

If they decide to go after Jesse they are going to run into possessed Jesse. Leading to a duel with Yubel. I don’t think Yubel would win but I also don’t think they’d lose. I think they’d find a way to end the duel in a draw through outside forces. And then send anything they could to keep the DM crew occupied.

They track Jaden which has the same outcome as option two

2) They get there just as the portal opens and get sucked in

Now much like Zane, Aster, and Crowler they end up some place different then the Gx kids.

They don’t catch up to Jaden until he’s already the Supreme King. And oh we have so many options from here

This is Jaden at arguably his most powerful. He has super poly and is not holding back. He doesn’t care about anyone or anything right now and that makes him dangerous.

Add into this that the DM crew as are looking at their son/nephew who they raised as a little family unit. He’s lost to them right now and they are trying everything to snap him out of it.

How many DM characters do you think the Supreme King can beat?

Note they might be ‘going all out’ but they would never risk killing Jaden. Joey is definitely dueling the same way he did against Mai in the Oricalcos arc. Focused more on snapping Jaden out of it than wining. But as we know from Axel winning is the only way to defeat the Supreme King.

Yugi is absolutely trying to make the appeal to his son. “This isn’t you. I love you. Come back to me.” We could make this so heart wrenching.

Note they would probably met up with Axel right after Jim was lost. Axel tells them the horrible truth. This is because I still want to give the final duel against the Supreme King to Axel as it is a great moment for his character.

Plus after it’s all over Jaden has to live with not only ‘killing’ his friends (again not your fault) but also hurting and maybe killing some of his family.

3) They join the Gx crew for the whole journey.

Jaden still tries to rush ahead but the DM crew are not only experienced Jaden wranglers but also experience desperate protagonist wranglers. It’s your time to shine Aunt Téa and Dad Yugi.

They are able to keep a better eye on the kids so they don’t get captured. Meaning there has to be another way to sacrifice people.

We have some options

A) the Gx crew still gets put under the spell

they start talking crap about Jaden which greatly disturbs the DM crew for a lot of reasons.

Then they reach Brron the man traps separates the two groups all the Gx crew into duels (like a five on 1 tag duel?) but they all lose except Jaden because of their sadness/rage.

Leaving Jaden friendless and feeling like he couldn’t protect them.

Jaden feels like a failure and maybe he gets tricked into thinking his family is dead and that’s what makes him fall.

B) it’s the DM crew Brron targets for his spell. They don’t have the negative feelings towards Jaden but each other.

Hear me out.

The whole situation has been stressful and a lot of them (Joey and Tristian) are upset with Seto’s school that keeps putting Jaden and friends in danger.

Téa and Yugi as super sad about Jaden’s lose of normalcy and also the way some of his friends behave.

Seto’s pride is as large as ever.

It’s not that they don’t love each other, they do but it’s stress and the situation and complex feelings. They’re not blaming each other but the situation and the spell brings out those negative emotions.

This ends with them getting sacrificed

Jaden has to watch as he loses his family and he loses it.

This also allows the Gx crew to be more active in the plot and maybe have some bonding with the remaining DM crew as only four are sacrificed.

Again this is my Great War. I have no idea which idea to go with.

#yugi moto #yugi mutou #jaden yuki #judai yuki #yugioh gx #seto kaiba #dad yugi #atem #yami yugi #pharaoh atem #tea gardner #joey wheeler #tristan taylor #jesse anderson #johan andersen #axel brodie #Jim Cook #rivalshipping #spiritshipping

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shesalwaysthere · 9 months

Text

Waiting Room

Joel x F!Reader

Chapter One: My Poor Parents’ Teenage Daughter

pairing: dbf!joel x f!reader

genre: no outbreak, explicit, fluff, angst, eventual smut

word count: 3.7k

summary: You come home from your term at UT for the summer to visit your parents. It’s your last summer close to home before you go up north and leave your family behind- but what happens when a teenage wet dream turns into something that could challenge your future?

warnings: 18+ EXPLICIT MINORS DNI, age gap, mentions of attraction when reader is younger (Joel is NOT attracted to reader when they are younger than 18), swearing, drunkenness, tommy being an asshole, no use of y/n

a/n: hey guys!! this is my first fic on here so if u have any tips please let me know! this was such a joy to write and i absolutely cannot wait to continue this story!! pls lmk what u think! <3

“be easy.

take your time.

you are coming

home

to yourself.”

— the becoming

Every day until you come home each June seems longer and longer until the departure day arrives. You love your school, UT has brought you so many new experiences and you truly feel like you’re ready for this new chapter in your life. But the long stretches of day that seem to go on forever don’t treat you kindly like home did.

Your journey home is, thankfully, a short one.

When you were younger, you dreaded going to college so close to home, your mind always so full of wanderlust, fantasizing about what the big, blue world would bring you. Austin was big, to be sure, but not big enough for you. You needed to soak up the Earth and everything it had to offer.

At twenty-two, you’re glad fifteen-year-old you didn’t make the decisions anymore. Within the first week of your freshman year, you missed your bed. You missed your mom blasting her songs through the house, and seeing your dad floating in the pool on the sweltering Texas days. Your family was crazy, loud, and crass, but the quiet of university gave you hives.

This summer was going to be the last before you traveled further north to Dallas to pursue the last leg of your degree. You were offered free room and board to finish your master's degree at a smaller school, and you were even granted an internship at which your mother screeched in excitement. You were thrilled to start your future, certainly, but this trip was expected to be a little… melancholy.

Your dad tried to convince you to let him drive you, but you insisted a two-way trip was a waste of gas, and you’d see him at home anyways. Home, you thought. Not for much longer, but home. Your old, rickety car sputtered on the half-hour drive, and you patted the poor steed’s dashboard reassuringly, almost as if it could be calmed by your hand. You did push the car’s limits by driving a bit too fast on the main roads, but you were just so, so eager to be home.

Once you finally reached the driveway, your parents were already rushing out the door, attacking you with an embrace, and you giggled happily, letting their warmth take over you. When they finally released you, you took notice of the massive – and very poorly painted – banner above the door, welcoming you home, with your name in big, messy letters drawn for the whole neighborhood to see. As you approached the door, you heard telltale sounds of… oh, God.

A party.

Before you could even protest, or remind your parents of the fact that you were a mess in nothing but a t-shirt and shorts, your hair was all messy, and your face made you look like the underside of a dumpster, they promptly shoved you inside as a cheer erupted from the crowd. Waves of family members shoved through to try and greet you first – aunts and uncles, cousins you’d missed, your sweet little nephew who’d been born four months before. There were even a few family friends you hadn’t seen in years, friends who must have traveled much too far just to see you. Your anxieties about your appearance faded as the energy in the room shifted. How silly you were to be so nervous. You felt surrounded by so much love, and honestly, it was just what you needed.

You almost don’t notice one of your childhood friends, Hannah, standing off to the side, as if she was patiently waiting for you to find her. You had wondered why she hadn’t been answering your texts for the past couple of weeks, then remembered fondly how she can’t keep a secret. You both share a look that nearly brings you to tears, overwhelmed by just the sight of her. You both look so… grown up.

You rush to her with arms outstretched, wrapping her in a tight embrace and laughing, overcome with joy. She pulls away to scan your face, nodding approvingly. “Damn, college did some good to you,” she laughs, holding your face for a moment, “maybe I should have followed you to UT, huh? Could’ve got this glow you have.”

Hannah is three years older than you. She was always so smart in school, and while it made you feel a little inferior, it also filled you with so much pride. She even tested into a program that earned her an associate’s degree when she graduated high school. She finished up her BA at community college even though she was offered several scholarships at many different colleges, all amounting to a number you could never dream of having. No full rides, though, and that was a dealbreaker for her parents. She’s down at the library, now, which you can only hope is something she loves.

You talk for a while, letting other folks come up to greet you and show praise for a few moments before you get too embarrassed and shoo them away. At one point, someone approaches from behind, covering your eyes. You feel them lean in all too close, their breath on your neck.

“Guess who,” they whisper, and you shiver.

If you didn’t know by the hands alone, the voice gives it all away. You pull away and smile wide, wrapping your arms around your dad’s closest friend for as long as you can remember, Joel Miller. Being the man he is, he lifts you up and spins you around, chuckling as you scream. He sets you back down and affectionately puts a hand on your shoulder. “Heya, kid. I’m real proud of you. I know how much this means to you. We’ll miss you down here.” You smile, your cheeks turning a light pink color as he walks away.

Your feelings for Joel are… complicated. He’s been around as far back as your memory goes, always there for your family when you needed him. Hell, he’d even come over when your dog ran out the door and you had to comb through the whole neighborhood to find her. You’d hop in the bed of his truck and shout her name until she came bounding towards you. He was there for birthdays, holidays, funerals…

He also made an occasional appearance in your teenage wet dreams.

It really isn’t your fault. He was consistently fit, handsome, caring, funny… he was the whole damn package and you couldn’t really ignore that as a teenage girl dreaming about prince charming. Joel wasn’t perfect, you knew that, but you loved that even more.

As you and Hannah watch him leave, she pokes you with her clawed finger, making you yelp and playfully slap her, pouting. She shakes her head at you. “What?” You cry, rubbing your arm where she poked you.

“You’re unbelievable,” she says, looking back at Joel. “He’s basically your uncle.”

“Ew, Hannah! Don’t say that, god, that’s so gross,” you say, shaking your head and covering your face. “Don’t make me feel worse! I can’t help this.”

Hannah, of course, knew all about your little crush on Joel and relentlessly teased you throughout the years for it. The teasing was well deserved, as it was silly to feel that way towards someone around 20 years your senior, but sometimes it got to you. It wasn’t like you were going to pursue him, he was just… one delicious fantasy that was stuck in your head.

“So, how’s Kevin?” you ask, trying to change the subject. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Hannah, but you know boy talk is her weakness, and you breathe a deep sigh of relief when she begins her ramble. The gossip doesn’t last too much longer, though, as your dad approaches you with a big smile, and you could tell by the look in his eyes he had some sort of surprise for you.

“Hey, nugget,” he smiles, making you roll your eyes at the nickname. “Come over here, I wanna talk to you about something.” You nod, giving Hannah’s hand a squeeze and smiling before walking away with your dad, intuiting that whatever he wants to talk about will take quite a while. You love him, but he’s something of a talker. He guides you through the sea of people in your living room to the back door, where more people have slowly gathered as the grill begins to work its magic and the crowd gets hungrier. Manning the grill was, of course, Joel.

Your dad leads you over to where he stands, Joel’s eyes not leaving the grill. ‘So serious about his hamburgers’, you think, smiling to yourself. Your dad claps him on the back and Joel jumps slightly, smiling at how surprised he was. He shoves your dad’s shoulder and your dad shakes his head. “This old fucker… well, he’s in desperate need of your help. See, the legal side of his contracting business is frankly a mess, and he won’t hire anyone thinkin’ it’s one big waste o’ money, or whatever.”

The two of them share a laugh, and despite how adorable your two favorite old men are, you find yourself growing increasingly impatient at their lack of to-the-pointness. You nod your head, crossing your legs in agitation. Your dad sighs and points to you knowingly.

“You’re good with that law aspect though, aren’t you? Making sure the… y’know, labor’s fair and the whole thing’s all up to code,” your dad says, scratching his nose. You know he has absolutely no clue what the hell he’s talking about, but he’s trying, and it gives you some semblance of warm joy at the thought. “I thought maybe… you could work for Joel this summer. Few months of real-world experience under your belt, get some decent pay… plus, the old man won’t be too hard on you, will ya, Joel?”

You bring your eyes back over to Joel, who’s clearly been a bit more affected by the alcohol than your dear old dad. His cheeks are red, his brow a bit sweaty (though that could be from the grill) and his lips pursed. You stop to wonder if someone so clearly messed up should be manning a grill, but the thought is stopped in its tracks as you notice something.

Joel is looking at you. I mean, really looking. Not in your eyes, no, at your face. Scanning you, drinking you in, like he’s looking at you for the first time. You feel your face get hot as his eyes go lower before slowly rolling their way back up, and he locks eyes with you, making you smile. He smiles back, which surprises you. It’s a smile that speaks to you. It tells you to be quiet, shushing you, keeping it a secret. You bite your lip, stifling a giggle as you look back at your dad.

You shrug. “I guess. As long as Joel knows the basics of everything, or has kept a file. You did have a lawyer when you started Miller Contracting, right?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at Joel playfully. He laughs too loud, taking another sip of his beer and nodding. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure he kept the files somewhere around, I’ll get ‘em for you. As long as you’re comfortable workin’ with me.”

Your dad shoves him a bit. “Oh, c’mon, Miller, she’s fine. She’s known you most of ‘er life, long as you just treat her right and don’t saddle her with work like you do Tommy, she’ll be alright. And make sure Tommy keeps his hands to himself!” He half-shouts, busting out into more laughter as you turn red again.

You snap your eyes over to Joel who quickly averts his gaze to the floor, and you bite your lip in frustration.

“Yeah, I’m sure we’ll get along just fine,” you say. “And don’t worry, Dad. We’re both good with our hands in different ways.”

You couldn’t be certain, but you thought you saw Joel choke on his drink.

You decided to go formal. First day, new job, might as well look nice, right? Your little… outfit was a little form-fitting, but you’d go for it anyways. You gathered what you figured would be first-day essentials and rushed out the door before your parents woke up. You knew your parents would either make you late by celebrating it as if it was some massive deal, or they’d force you to stay until they were ready to take you themselves, and you couldn’t bear the embarrassment of either.

As you start your car, your phone dings with a little notification. You check, pleasantly surprised, as it’s a text from Joel.

ミ★

(9:08 am) Joel: Hey kid, here’s the address for the office.

(9:08 am) You: look at you, joel, all tech-savvy!

(9:10 am) Joel: Gotta remind me I’m old huh?

(9:11 am) You: now do an emoji for me

(9:11 am) Joel: I am not doing tricks for your pleasure.

(9:12 am) You: i’ll bring you a coffee.

(9:12 am) Joel: 🎪🤹🤡

☆彡

You smile, shaking your head at your goofy, old boss. You punch in the directions to your GPS app and begin the 15-minute (turned to a 25-minute to stop for coffee) trip to your new job. And with around 20 minutes to spare, you pat yourself on the back. Joel is already waiting for you when you walk in, giving you a look you cannot place, especially being distracted by carrying coffee with you. You shove your folders into Joel’s chest momentarily to regain your balance.

“Hey, sorry, hold this for a sec,” you say, pulling out Joel’s coffee and setting it on the desk behind him and sighing, grabbing your papers back. “Thanks. Um… you okay?” Your question is prompted by you taking notice of the look on his face – a sort of slack-jawed, wide-eyed look, like you’d walked in wearing nothing. You feel something tighten inside of you, cursing yourself for feeling so weak at a man looking at you like some kind of meal. You clear your throat, trying to push out a little awkward laugh. “What, you never seen me in nice clothes before?”

Joel clears his throat, smiling a little at himself. “Not since your prom dress,” he says, clearly poking fun at you, since you decided at seventeen that the best thing to wear to prom would be a bright pink dress that looked WAY better in the store than it did the day of, and you had to go in one of your mom’s old dresses. You grimace at the reminder, shoving Joel playfully for bringing it up. “Thanks for reopening that wound, asshole. To think that wasn’t even the worst part of prom,” you say, shaking your head at the memory. He gives you a confused look, making you shrug.

“You know, because I went with Harrison.” you say, gesturing for Joel to catch on. “He… was an asshole? He left me alone all night and made out with my friend when we got to Hannah’s house. Did Dad not tell you?”

Joel nods as if he understands, but he just looks more confused. “Really? Ken’s kid acted that way? Shit, that fuckin’ bonehead’s married now. Can’t imagine what that woman’s goin’ through now. If I’d known, woulda kicked the shit out of him.” He smirks, taking a sip of his coffee.

You laugh, covering your mouth like someone’s going to hear you. “Yeah, I bet you would have. All you would’ve had to do is look at him and he’d run, the pussy. Speaking of, I bet his wife’s real frustrated that he can’t make a woman come.” Joel chokes on his coffee a bit.

As if on cue, Tommy walks in, a customary Joel resting frown on his face that quickly turns to a smile when he sees you. His walk picks up into a jog as he approaches you, wrapping you up into a hug that is purely Tommy. He smells like he just got out of the shower, which is comforting in the most unidentifiable way. He leans away to get a look at you, smiling wide. “Joel told me you’d be here! Couldn’t shut the fuck up about it, in fact,” he says, giving Joel a teasing look, to which Joel responds with a frown.

Tommy looks back at you and puts his hand on your shoulder. “I’m gonna show you where you’re workin’. This old fart won’t remember where everything is, so I’m in charge of the tour. He’ll come along, though, don’t you worry.” You smile and nod, even though you’re a little confused about why you’d be worried about Joel not being there. Did Tommy know something? Did Hannah already tell the whole damn town? Before you can catastrophize anymore, Tommy walks ahead of both of you, leading you toward your station.

The consultation office is new to the company, but the building is definitely not. The only thing that doesn’t seem to be over a decade old is the floor- seemingly new tile, which Tommy comments about. Something along the lines of “out of our own damn pockets” and how it was “worth gettin’ rid of the suspicious carpet stains”. You say something about how Tommy better not bring any girls around and make more stains, which makes Joel laugh. You’re shown Joel’s consult area, Tommy’s area (which he doesn’t really explain, but based on the fact that it looks like a man cave, you assume going in there is a bad idea), a tiny coffee machine that looks like it’s older than the building itself, and finally, your office.

It’s bigger than Tommy’s. Hell, it’s bigger than Joel’s. Obviously, it’s still not huge, but there’s enough space for your desk, a little lounge, and a bookshelf. There are boxes of files on your desk, seemingly all set out for you to go through and organize. However, another box catches your attention. It has a picture frame, a little pencil cup, and a few other things one might have in their office inside of it- but it isn’t yours. You inspect it closer, seeing the picture is of Joel and Sarah. You turn to look at Joel, confused, as he leans against the doorframe.

“You gave up your office for me?”

He just shrugs. “Wasn’t usin’ it.”

You reel. It’s stupid and cheesy, but you do. You rack your brain for any indication before that he was doing this for you, but you can’t remember anything he might have done to reveal this. He wanted to surprise you.

Tommy looks back and forth between you and Joel, smiling knowingly. “He really wasn’t. This geezer spends most of his time out workin’ instead of in here, even though we got a whole group of guys doin’ the work for us.”

“Well, we didn’t start this shit to have other guys do it,” Joel combats, standing up straight. “You’re just a lazy ass now that we got more people. It’s still Miller Contracting, not… Miller and The Other Guys Contracting.”

You stifle a laugh. So does Tommy. Joel purses his lips frustratedly, which only breaks the damn. You laugh so hard you cry, the silliness of the joke rushing at you. Tommy laughs with you, sharing a look with you. It was so fucking stupid and you both knew it.

Joel finally laughs, too. Laughs so hard he has to grab his stomach, delighted at the idiotic joke he made.

You and Tommy silently agree not to mention it. You’re afraid he’ll stop.

Once your giggles finally settle, Tommy crosses his arms and says something about having to get back to someone who called earlier and he steps out of the office. And then there were two.

Joel watches you. He doesn’t say anything when Tommy leaves, just stands exactly where he’s been the whole time, stalking you, waiting for you to move. You don’t look at him. It unnerves you, making you conscious of your movement, but you want him to keep looking. You can’t explain what he’s doing, and you can’t even begin to explain what you’re doing either.

You walk around the room some more, admiring the view from the window, touching the shelves, et cetera. His eyes stay on you. You turn and face him, considering asking him what the hell he’s looking at, but his gaze stops you in your tracks. Goddamn him. You force a smile and bring your hands up to your arms, rubbing them lightly. “Little cold in here, huh?” you chuckle.

Joel just shrugs. “Better’n outside.”

You nod. The air is tense. And awkward.

He leans away from the doorframe and for a moment you think he’ll walk towards you, but he doesn’t. “Well, I’ll let you get settled. Let me or Tommy know if you need anything.”

And he’s gone.

You use the rest of the day to organize the files all piled and half-organized on your desk, not even having time to read them with the unidentifiable order, or lack thereof, of it all. You assume the guys leave halfway through the day when silence falls over the office. It isn’t unsettling in the slightest, but comforting in the way it reminds you of the quiet of your dorm. You hadn’t missed it yet, but you found yourself starting to. Maybe this would be a nice substitute.

When you find yourself hungry for lunch, you decide stretching your legs is a good idea and just go to get some. When you come back, Tommy’s truck is there, and both of their office doors are closed, so you know they’re back. When you walk back into your office, there’s something there you hadn’t left.

It’s a jacket. Pretty fuckin big, too- not chunky big, just stretched out like whoever was wearing it had been wearing it for a long time. There’s a little pink Post-it note attached to it, seemingly from the office.

Don’t go touching the thermostat. -J

Fucking Christ. You groan but put it on, silently grateful for the act of kindness. Still, a thought nudged at the back of your mind.

Is the whole summer going to be like this?

#joel miller #tlou #joel tlou #joel miller x reader #joel tlou x reader #joel x reader #willowsvalley #joel miller tlou #joel the last of us #joel x you #joel miller x you #joel tlou x you #joel the last of us x reader

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archoniic · 1 year

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The glaze lilies— "Shh," came in the very softest of whispers, and the pad of her thumb rushed to his lips as if to quiet him— though it was not that he had been speaking particularly much in any capacity So perhaps that little detail, could simply be explained away as a yearning for that physical connection with him that she always craved. Always. The lilies, their lilies! Did he hear them? A childlike wonder settled rather rapidly within those eyes of grey, and it was, undoubtedly, a sight to behold. How could a god as she be mesmerised by anything? Mortal or celestial, and yet— the lilies, did he? Her finger lingered still when she spoke, a whisper even quieter than before. "Do you hear them, Morax? They're singing." It was a miracle that she had found the ability to speak with how grand the smile was, as it lay framed amidst those braided tresses of grey, as she lingered so very close to him. They were singing, so very clear as day (were they?)— and the untainted and sheer delight that encompassed every inch of her in response was, almost, unparalleled. And so caught within her glee and utter elation, in this moment which she so ached for him to witness and experience with her, she'd forgotten that her finger was still held ever so lightly to his lips, "our lilies."

𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐍’𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆; but even if he had, he would have quieted the moment her thumb pressed to his lips. Though his first reaction was not one of excitement, nor peace as hers was – it was alert. As though perceiving a potential threat from the midst of the lilies themselves. Morax’s body tensed; his natural reaction. As it had been for many a moon, as much as the confusion that clouded his eyes upon her next words. The more he allowed himself into this society, the more the world around him confused him. Perhaps he had seen it as much too black and white; he had not been able to see the differing shades of grey that she saw. How majestic something as utterly simple as a flower could be. How incredibly complex the mortals themselves were. It was slow progress for him; but he at least looked upon some of the humans with slightly less mirth.

“I.. do not.”

Morax heard nothing but the wind in the air and the sound of his own breathing. Yet, the look in her eyes told him she at least heard it. A crease settled between his brow, amber gaze falling upon the expanse of lilies ahead of them; there they swayed – almost as though dancing to whatever song that could not be heard by the Lord of Geo. He tried; he tried to hear them. But he could not, perhaps that was something saved only for the God of Dust. Perhaps only she could hear; or maybe he was still as rigid as the rocks themselves and could not hear something quite that delicate.

“I am sure they sing for you.” He told her, a smile on his face; accepting the fact that he couldn’t hear it and likely never would – but what a song it must have been for it to capture her as entirely as it did. “A song they sing only meant for your ears. The secrets of the lilies.”

#yuelun #↱ IC ↲ every journey has it’s final day – don’t rush . / 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 #↱ guili ↲ with shortness of breath i’ll try to explain the infinite - how rare and beautiful it is to even exist . / 𝐃𝐘𝐍 : yuelun #i thought for a moment to have him able to hear it #but then i thought no #what if the song was meant only for her (:#and its something he learns later on down the line #but he's happy that she's so happy (:#the fact she's so excited and she just #touCHES HIM SO casUALLY #and he just accEPTS it #like 'yes hi this is normal'#i love them okay (:

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what-thisiscrazzzy · 2 months

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Okay I just wrote and essay on soap operas and while doing this is read Glen Creeber’s ‘serial television’ where he discussed the hybridisation of the soap opera and its characteristic of the ‘flexi- narrative’ and I want to talk about how this applies to 911 on ABC especially with the season 6 ending and the season 8 renewal 3 episodes into its new season.

Disclaimer: I don’t want to write a whole essay on this and i dont fully have an idea where im going with this. this is just me rambling.

Firstly Creeber defines the soap opera as: A continuous, never-ending drama series usually set around the domestic and intimate lives of a small community that explicitly resists narrative closure.

The 'flexi-narrative' is the characteristic of soap operas where there are multiple narratives running separately and with different tones. not all of these narratives will reach a complete conclusion, some trailing off and some left open for further exploration. This creates a sense of realism as real life continues on and doesnt have a conclusion.

Additionally, Christine Geraghty explains that realism in soaps is also built by the way that the narrative continues without the viewer creating the sense that they live a day to day life beyon what the viewer can observe.

A quick explanation of hybridisation is that elements such as the flexinarrative and the focus on close interpersonal relationships rather than larger overarching plotlines and politics. Within the text that I'm referring to there is a discussion of how shows based on work places become less about the jobs and more about these relationships.

John Wilsher (who is quoted in this book) states that essentially all drama is becoming a soap opera with these more personal stories, this is stated like a negative by him but I personally find these narrative more interesting as they become more psychological and allow for a discussion of more personal topics and political implications.

But basically what is being said is the drama now is a sort of hybrid with soap operas and has adapted to include the flexi-narrative and a focus on more personal narrastives.

This is where my thoughts come to 911 and its move to ABC. The previous season of 911's ending was created with the knowledge that the show would most likely be cancelled (i don't know at what point the writers where aware of this but i think it can be assumed that the season didn't start with this confirmed and/or known) this meant that everything had to be wrapped up, every story line must come to a form of conclusion. I think it can be easily said that most viewers and fans found the conclusion as unsatisfying due to the choices made by writers. However, I think to an extent no conclusion would be satisfying as 911 is a show that benefits and thrives on the flexi-narrative. In a sense it is a hybrid of the soap opera similar to most modern procedurals and within this is the expectation that it will feature continuous plot lines and refer back to its past stories. This can be seen in the various 'Buck' iterations, the acknowledgement of Buck's character progression. A large part of 911 is the personal development of characters like Buck but also Bobby and his alcoholism, Hen's family and its occasional issues and celebrations, Chim and his journey with relationships and Maddie with overcoming abuse and developing a healthy family. Any final conclusion to 911 will feel unsatisfying as the show has built on the sense of realism, these characters have been shown to experience life beyond the plot and to write it to a close feels unnatural.

I also believe the way they chose to conclude specifically Bucks story did feel rush, if anything if they didn't have time to give him a fully developed love interest then they should have returned to a previous iteration of the couch metaphor and had him happy single or continue looking for love with a healthier mind set. To give him a concrete close without the time to set up a fulfilling future feels odd even if you have no investment in Buddie or if you did have investment in his relationship with Natalia. The narrative structure of 911 creates the pattern that there is no happy ending, they just continued development. The ending of season 6 didn't create a sense that Buck will develop more, his new relationship felt almost closed. I think a comparison to this is Eddie's ending which did feel like a closing but instead like a slightly new beginning (I don't personally like Marisol but this isnt about opinions of the love interest but instead how she is introduced) as it was an opening to Eddie developing past... well his past.

Anyway this is all to say that the renewal of 911 after 3 episodes of season 7 does sit well with this comparison to soap operas in terms of its benefits. 911 works better when the writers can write these flexi-narratives that are continuous and could last not just for a season but beyond that. I think that's sort of where 911 has suffered as it sometimes tries to close narratives that don't require closure or are ended too early. Such as the Buckley parents, that's a narrative that could have been taken through multiple seasons and even with forgiveness it could be something that could be further discussed. But season 8 being renewed allows the writers the safety to write continuous stories that don't need to be concluded by the end of the season. I think in general 911 thrives when it doesn't try to close things and instead continues on. A wedding isn't the ending of the dating era but a new beginning, a death isn't the end but a way to explore its ramifications, etc.

This was all just me rambling bc i had to read a bunch of stuff for uni and 911 was on my brain but ultimately what i want to get at is procedural shows such as 911 benefit more from being treated as soap operas or at least using the characteristics they have inherited to its advantage and if they are given the freedom to create long running and never ending personal narratives they can develop a more satisfying story.

This all made more sense in my head sorry

#911 abc #911 on abc #911 season 7 #evan buckley #evan buck buckely #eddie diaz #what can i actually tag that actually applies #i dont want to be someone who tags unrelated things #911onabc #911 show #film and television #tv shows #oliver stark #ryan guzman #911 fox #911 #911 s7 #911 meta #meta

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wheneclipsefalls · 1 year

Text

Ma Neteyam pt.1

Part 2

Pairing: Neteyam (20 yrs old) x Original Male Na’vi Character

Summary: Neteyam is kidnapped by the Olo’eyktan alpha from a nearby clan who claims that Eywa has destined them to be soulmates. Only weeks away from fully presenting as omega, Neteyam is caught between trying to find his way home and giving in to his primal desires.

Warnings: more smut as the story continues, alpha/beta/omega universe so unequal power dynamics, swearing, stockholm syndrome, more warnings with the coming chapters.

Author’s note: This is my first fanfic I have posted online and the first smut I have ever written, so please be nice. If you don’t like, just don’t read. This first part may be shorter than the coming chapters. It will act as a test run. If you like it, please let me know and I will continue updating. Also please ignore some of the plot ambiguity.

The night air was crisp and soothing with the sounds of wildlife purring throughout the forest. Neteyam lay soundly asleep alone in his hammock dreaming of the ride on his ikran he planned to pursue the next day. He was proud of the independence his father had been granting him lately, letting him go solo on certain journeys and even hunt on his own every now and then, despite his omega gender. It was no small feat to convince the man he would be safe alone, especially with all of the Na’vi young males that had been constantly pining for his affections. Jake was a proud and protective father so when high strung navi warriors made grabs at his only omega son, he was known to retaliate and tighten the reins.

On normal days Lo’ak had the luxury of an alpha title and therefore was able to pounce along the forest without a second thought from his parents. For Neteyam, he was stuck weaving baskets and making bracelets with his mother or occasionally following around his father and brother in their less dangerous pursuits. Recently however, his father had finally conceded to letting his son go on solo rides that didn’t stray from the hallelujah mountains along with hunts that brought him back to the clan before eclipse. Freedom was paradise to Neteyam even if he wasn’t known to fly as far as his brother.

A loud crack startled the boy into opening his eyes. There was no accompanying sound to follow but nevertheless he now lay slightly lucid in his hammock wondering if the sound was only his imagination. After a long pause in silence, he finally decided it was nothing and turned to his other side to sleep. However, he did not get the chance to continue dreaming. This time a chilling ikran call echoed throughout the forest from a short distance. Neteyam didn’t even have time to sit up and look for the source before a sudden impact hit his side causing the hammock to swing dramatically.

The motion had him gasping and practically swinging completely out of the bed before he was able to get a grip on the mesh material enough to keep him there dangling high above the forest ground. The village slowly began to hum as others awoke and searched for the threat. Neteyam ignored the distant conversations slowly erupting as he looked down below for the best way to fall. He slowly felt his heart rate recover from the startling events as he decided on a route that would take him colliding from leaf to leaf till he could hit the bottom.

“Neteyam!” His father’s call interrupted his thoughts as he strained to see his figure a few trees behind him.

“I’m fine!” He yelled across the distance, but the commotion continued and kicked up in urgency.

To his surprise families started emerging from their beds and warriors were scrambling for their bows and arrows.

“Climb! Climb!” Jake commanded with great intensity while rushing closer. Neteyam was confused at the objection to safe fall but knew better than to disobey his father. He flexed his arms and core as he tried to lift himself back up into the hammock.

Suddenly, ikran calls and war cries echoed around and below the Na’vi male. He made the mistake of whipping his head around to identify the threat only to nearly get knocked down by an ikran and rider aiming directly for his hammock. Without another thought his instincts kicked in and he gracefully swung his body back before using that inertia to propel himself at the nearest tree. Desperate hands and feet grasped at the vines on the tree as he threw his body into a climb.

The ikran circled around the tree giving the boy glimpses of the tall rider crouching in a determined stance. Blood racing through his veins at a quicker speed, Neteyam threw all of his groggy energy into flinging himself up the tree in unpredictable directions. His hands were already forming small cuts and his legs aching with the surprise of the unprepared physical exertion. At this point the village was in a full riot as the ikran and mystery riders swirled through the forest.

Neteyam leaped from the tree to nearby hanging vines allowing him to travel to a smaller tree deeper in the brush. His impact was clumsy; the tree was weaker than predicted but he was now out from under the riders radar and able to see the chaos for what it was. From a distance he could now see that the intruders were flanking his abandoned hammock. His father was the first to charge at the navi and engage in combat. His mother was not far behind as she picked up her bow and arrow already pointing at one of the riders.

Strong claws gripped Neteyam by the shoulders before lifting him through the air. The boy gasped and hissed while frantically trying to maneuver his way out of the ikrans claws.

“NETEYAM!” His father’s call rang out with desperation but the boy was too busy writhing and reaching for the claws to spot him.

After only a few seconds the claws suddenly released him and he found himself quickly falling through the air. He tried to get into the proper flat position to fall upon the protective leaves but instead of hitting the greenery he found the air almost knocked out of him as he fell onto another ikran’s back. His body started to slide across its smooth skin before a strong hand reached back to grip his arm.

Neteyam was too busy to identify the rider gripping him but instead focused all of his efforts on prying the fingers off of his arm. If he could just get the man to release him he might still have a chance at cascading into the leaves down below for a safe landing. The Na’vi male’s grip didn’t budge as he hosted Neteyam’s dangling body from the back off the ikran to instead lay across his lap. Before he could push himself up from his lap the intruder was already wrapping an arm around his waist tightly and moving to position the omega in front.

Neteyam quickly elbowed him in the nose once in a slightly upright position. The rider’s grip loosened enough in shock to allow Neteyam to break free and start to slide off of the ikran. His efforts were in vain however as the ikran banked to the right and the omega went sliding towards the rider instead of away. Muscular long arms wrapped themselves around the boy’s shoulders and waist while he hissed angrily.

“Calm, little one.” The stranger’s deep voice purred at the infuriated omega as he positioned the boy’s smaller body in front of him.

“Let me go before I skin you!” He bellowed struggling in the grasp. The man was back into position to direct the Ikran while still trapping Neteyam. They soared left towards an opening in the forest. Cries could be heard from all around as ikrans flowed past them along with arrows and running villagers.

His father was already on his own ikran swiping through the air quickly to reach his son. The sight of him gave Neteyam a sliver of hope. With this motivation he sporadically sunk his teeth deep into the arm around his shoulder. The coppery taste in his mouth confirmed he had drawn blood. The male let out a pained and frustrated hiss before using his other hand to grab Neteyam by the hair and pull him off.

“Hold on Neteyam!” A cry came from far behind.

The stranger repositioned the bleeding arm to securely encircle the boy’s middle before his other hand pressed firmly against the pressure points in his neck. Neteyam went limp against the man as he lost consciousness.

“Sleep now, Ma Neteyam.”

Kxolo admired Neteyam, still asleep peacefully on the mat of his village. The journey from the Omaticaya village to his own was short but difficult as he and the other warriors fought to escape the defending villagers’ advances. Jake Sully was particularly enraged as he chased down Kxolo, streaming out war cries. Kxolo found it a challenge to direct his ikran with the delicate omega limp in his arms but luckily he had practiced and planned the escape route with such precision that even the infamous Taruk Makto could not catch up to them.

His clan crouched around the boy trying to get a good look at the omega Kxolo had been determined to bring home. He could not stop thinking about the young omega since his visit to the Omaticaya clan. His beauty and presence were enthralling. Jake had refused to let Kxolo court him, not even letting the boy in the village that day upon hearing of his intentions. Despite his persuasions and promises, Toruk Makto stayed firm in his decision. It was only after receiving a sign from Eywa of their soulmate bond that Kxolo decided to kidnap Neteyam. As Olo’eyktan, his warriors followed through with carrying out the abduction, eager to find their chief mated.

“He sure put up a fight.” Pulo, his second in command and best friend, chuckled while gesturing to Kxolo’s bandaged arm. “Looks like a little more than a love bite if you ask me.”

“Ma Neteyam has spirit. A feisty little omega he is.”

“I would expect nothing less from an omega mated to you.” Kxolo rolled his eyes fondly at his friend. “Although it may make the first few weeks challenging. I hope you have selected warriors that are up for this task of special babysitting.”

“He will be a handful I’m sure but Eywa knows he will come around.”

Eventually Neteyam started to groan and stir as he regained consciousness. His gaze was unfocused and confused for a few seconds as it took in the sight of the crowd surrounding him. His large amber eyes widened as realization struck and he instantly sprung up and into a crouched fighting position. He hissed at the strangers while eyes shot around the circle to look for an opening. Kxolo recognized the signs of a male about to pounce and attack, lowered ears, focused eyes and swishing tail. Neteyam let out a cry as he flung towards the far side of the crowd. The warriors standing there were unfazed and simply tightened formation to create a wall that he could not get through.

“Let me through you skxawng!”

“Neteyam.” Kxolo’s firm alpha call was barely heard by the omega as he continued to fight against the crowd. The alpha rose back to his feet and quickly caught the thrashing omega in his arms secured around the waist and shoulders once more. “Hush little omega and calm. I do not want to bind you, lovely.”

“Who are you? Let me go!” The alpha’s arms were like bands of steel easily holding the smaller male to his chest. This however did not stop Neteyam from thrashing against him with all the strength he could muster.

“Shhhh” The alpha purred against his ear while letting the calming pheromones wash over the struggling male. “Calm, little one. Calm.”

Pulo turned to Tamil in a silent command to grab the bindings in preparation. It was evident that no amount of pheromones was going to calm the raging omega.

“Get your hands off of me! Let me go before I skin you!” His words were unwavering but frantic movements showed that Neteyam knew he was no match for the stronger male holding him.

“Looks like we will have to do this the hard way. Brother, help me bind.” Tamil used the strong cords to bind Neteyam’s arms behind his head quickly while Kxolo held him still against his chest. A string of curses left his mouth as he now fought off the two alphas. In the end he found himself bound and secured to one of the higher branches of the nearby tree. “My love, I will give you a couple minutes to let out your frustrations and energy out here but I will be right back.” Kxolo affectionately stroked the omega’s cheek as he hissed at the alpha.

Kxolo turned back to the crowd quickly setting into motion the preparations for Neteyam. More warriors were sent out to the borders along the village to keep watch for Omaticaya intruders. Some of the women informed him of the prepared clothes and jewelry for Neteyam. The unneeded warriors and villagers were dismissed, although some tried to stay in order to get a better look at their leader’s future mate.

“Jake Sully will not be far behind, brother.” Tamil warned.

“Toruk has flown these grounds for years. It is only a matter of time before he leads his rider to the entrance.” Pulo added.

“I know, in fact I am counting on it.” The two exchanged a look of confusion as Kxolo adjusted his bow to lie on his back. “It is important that he comes to confront us. Only with Neteyam safe in our hands will I be able to explain the nature of the situation.”

“He will be angry.” Pulo reminded him.

“Of course he will be, but it won’t change things. Call when you see him coming. I need to go talk to my mate.”

He advanced confidently back towards the omega still struggling. Despite the tension of the situation Kxolo could not help but stare at the lean boy's toned body stretched out against the tree. The curve of his small waist even more accentuated than he last remembered with the occasional freckles littering his gorgeous hips. They locked eyes as Kxolo came to tower over the boy. Golden eyes glared back at him defiantly. He fought the smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he admired how adorable the young warrior looked trying to intimidate him.

Neteyam stood still now, still angry but Kxolo could tell the boy was losing energy. It did not help that he was bound to fully present soon, making his omega body tire more easily. Kxolo imagined the poor omega was exhausted after the night’s events. The weeks leading up to presenting were exhausting enough without having to fight off strange alphas in the middle of the night.

“Neteyam,” The Sully boy weakly went to bite at the hand Rxolo used to cup his cheek. “Have you calmed yourself now, baby?” The nipping stopped with exhaustion but his glare stayed in place trying to mentally scorch the man in front of him.

“I know you must have many questions. Now is the time to ask them.” For a second it seemed like the smaller male was not going to speak but finally a small mutter left his lips.

“You’re Kxolo Te Iiyi Letvesi’itan. The Olo’eytkan that visited my father last month.”

“Glad to hear you remember me.”

“Why am I here?”

“Ma Neteyam, I have brought you here to be my mate. Eywa has destined us to be together.” Surprise and fear flickered in those gorgeous eyes but were soon covered up by an angry hiss.

“I am not your mate you skxawng! Abducting an omega in the middle of the night does not make them yours.” Kxolo ignored insults and remained calm as he continued to explain.

“I spoke with your father about my intentions of courting you many times but he has forbidden it. The day after I left there was a sign from Eywa confirming our destiny as soulmates from Tsahik, but he has continued to dishonor these prophecies. I was forced with no other option than to carry them out without his permission.”

“You liar and thief! My father is Taruk Makto. He will rip your heart out in front of your eyes before you have the chance to ask for forgiveness.” His words were like venom but the alpha could see the strain of them on the omega’s body. His muscles were giving out and chest heaving at the effort of maintaining the show of bravery against the alpha.

“I know you are upset, little one. It is going to take time for you to adjust but I am willing to be patient and guide you along the way. I see you, Neteyam.”

“A rock sees better than you, you fool! I will never be your mate!” The smaller male spat at the alpha.

Within a breath Kxolo’s larger frame was pressed up against him and strong larger hands encased either side of Neteyam’s head. The stern unmoving look the alpha gave him made his mind sputter to a stop. “No amount of fighting or running is going to keep you away from me. You are mine. Eywa has written us in the stars. I love you more than you will be able to understand. I have known you and I are meant to be since the moment I saw you. I do not care how long it takes for you to acknowledge this connection. I do not care how many times you kick, bite, scratch or try to kill me, I will always come after you. You are my world now, Neteyam. In time you will come to love me too.”

Silence fell over the pair. Neteyam’s heart rate was skyrocketing causing his chest to rise up and down till he was practically panting. The night was too much and Kxolo could tell his omega was telling him to rest. The alpha lovingly stroked the boy’s cheek with his thumb.

“You poor thing have been through so much tonight. I promise I will have you back in bed resting soon my love.”

He reluctantly stepped back and turned towards the warning cries of warriors. Toruk Makto was here.

The red banshee was easy to spot, even in the dead of night. There was no chance of Jake surprising the clan in an environment he had never scouted out before. Kxolo knew that Jake Sully would have to confront him directly.

Toruk soared towards them with a loud cry before landing in front of Kxolo and the warriors set around them. Jake was armed with only a knife he must have grabbed in the haste of chasing after his son. He stared down Kxolo with hatred and burning that only a protective father could muster.

“Dad!” Neteyam cried desperately struggling against the binds once more. The upstart of thrashing was starting to cause the cords to dig into the omega’s arms. Kxolo placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder trying to prevent more damage.

“Kxolo! You let my Goddamn son go now!”

“Calm, Olo’eyktan Toruk Makto. I told you this would happen. You decided to ignore the signs of Eywa.”

Jake withdrew his knife from its sleeve with a growl. “You have my son tied up to a damn tree in the middle of the night and have the nerve to speak to me about the signs of Eywa?!”

The warriors surrounding the area slowly started to circle in at the sight of the knife. Despite their uneasiness, Kxolo remained relaxed as if the conversation was a small chat about the weather.

“Steady Jake Sully. It would not be wise of you to attack.”

“We passed wise a long time ago.” The warriors around him let out tentative cries in response to Jake’s fighting stance. Kxolo could feel Neteyam’s pulse speed up in anticipation of the fight ahead. “Get your hand off my son.” He hissed at the hand still placed upon the omega’s shoulder.

“You are not only outnumbered but also at risk of starting a war by attacking. I have conversed with the Tsahiks of the nearest clans and they have confirmed the sign. In addition their Olo’eyktan have agreed to honor and defend Eywa’s will even into combat if necessary. Be reasonable. You do not want this fight.”

Jake’s stance never let up for a second but fear could be seen in his eyes. He was faced with an impossible ultimatum. Neteyam was growing more restless by the minute as he watched his father’s hesitation.

“There is still time to talk. We can still come to terms with the situation and find the best course moving forward for Neteyam.”

“How is any of this the best for Neteyam?” He ground out through gritted teeth. Pulo inched closer to Jake, still in anticipation of things going south.

“You know I will take care of him. I would never hurt him. I meant what I said to you about loving your son. You can trust he is in good hands.” Jake gripped the handle of the blade in restraint. “If you and I work together I am sure there is a way that Neteyam can still visit his family.”

The comment sent Jake lunging at Kxolo in anger only to be stopped by the warriors’ aimed weapons protecting their leader. Jake hissed in frustration while hopelessly looking at his struggling son. Tears were starting to well up in Neteyam’s eyes no matter how hard he tried to hold them back. Kxolo wanted more than anything to comfort the whimpering omega but that would have to wait till the threat at hand was taken care of.

“Neteyam.” Jake’s voice rose barely above a whisper.

“Dad.” The boy barely gasped out without crying.

“Do not worry. Everything is going to be alright. I am going to figure this out.”

A small sob escaped the omega’s throat before the stream of heavy tears gushed down his cheeks. He knew what that promise entailed. His father would not be taking him home tonight. Kxolo could see the heartbreak in Jake’s expression as he forced himself to focus back onto the chief.

“This is not over. You harm a hair on his head and I will tear you apart limb by limb till you are begging me to kill you.”

The alpha simply gave a short response of “He is safe,” as Jake backed away towards Toruk. He didn’t miss the murder in Jake’s eyes as he mounted the Ikran. Watching the large ikran soar off into the distance, Rxolo knew the fight was not over but for tonight Neteyam would finally be in his arms where he was meant to be.

Neteyam took a long time to console after his father left. Once the tears had started, they did not stop. It was still not safe to leave the boy completely unrestrained but Tamil quickly adjusted it so that it was a simple binding of his wrists behind his back. This allowed Kxolo to scoop the boy carefully into his lap and against his chest. Neteyam was too far into his fit to really put up a fight as the alpha swayed him back and forth and hushed him softly.

“My poor Neteyam.” He cooed while stroking the boy’s braids. The alpha once again released calming pheromones and found it more effective. Neteyam started to go limp in his arms as the sobs continued. It was clear that at this point his body was ready to give out.

“Pulo, are we set for the night?”

“Guard shifts are organized and underway and the hammock is ready for Neteyam.”

“Perfect, thank you brother.” Looking down at the omega he could tell his cries were softening and eyes lided as he fought to stay awake. “I think it is time we get you back to bed sweet one.” Neteyam only stared off into the distance completely lost in his exhaustion.

He continued in this state as they led him towards the sleeping area of the village. Kxolo guided him with a hand to his lower back all the while peeking over consistently for signs of resistance or distress. Finally, they reached the hammock set up for Neteyam. The omega halted.

“Come Neteyam. I can help you down.”

“Aren’t you going to unbind me?” He writhed his arms against the cords in emphasis.

“Can we trust you to stay put?” Pulo intervened, although the alphas knew they would untie him regardless.

“Do I have a choice?” The boy gritted out. Pulo simply shook his head and chuckled softly at the Na’vi’s anger.

“Oh you have a choice. You are free to leave your hammock but you may find the journey back over a guard’s shoulder to be counterproductive.”

Neteyam shot Pulo a look that could kill before tugging at his restraints once more, a silent request to be released. Kxolo motioned for him to be brought over.

“You need rest Ma Neteyam. Don’t be foolish and waste your energy tonight causing trouble.” Kxolo slipped an arm around the omega’s waist. Before the young warrior could manage to escape his hold, the alpha laid a sweet kiss at the crown of his future mate’s head. “I will let you sleep on your own tonight but if you need me, simply call. Sleep well my love.”

With that, the bonds were cut and Neteyam was helped into the hammock reluctantly. However, it was not until the alpha could hear the soft snores coming from the omega that he left to find sleep himself.

#avatar #omega neteyam #abo universe #avatar way of water #protective jake sully #alpha oc #stockholm syndrome #avatar smut #neteyam fanfiction #omatikaya #avatar fanfiction #sub neteyam #male x male #toruk makto

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ladymunson · 1 year

Text

Perfect 18+

Fic summary: Reader and Joel Miller have been friends for quite a long time, but been apart due to moving away. They finally reconnect after a year apart when one surprises the other with a unscheduled visit. Their reunion goes way different than either of them anticipated.

A/N: So here it is my very first Joel Miller fic, part one of three. Needless to say, this is going to contain serious SMUT! So definitely 18+ You have been warned.

Word Count: 2021

Warnings: SMUT 18+, oral sex (m+f giving and receiving), unprotected sex (bag it up people!), multiple orgasms, hair pulling, male ejaculation

Dividers made by the wonderful @firefly-graphics ❤️

Special thanks to @jobean12-blog. Thank you for your help 💕

I do NOT give permission for my work to be copied, translated or posted to any other platform.

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You’re having a week off, and you’ve earned it. After spending three months working every single day to get this project off the ground, you’re finally having a day to yourself. You slept in until 11 , then decided to go out and run errands stopping off at your favourite coffee shop on your travels.

As you step into the shop, a familiar bearded face comes into your peripheral. “Joel?!” You look at him, completely stunned. He comes rushing towards you. You smile as he reaches you and pulls you into a massive bear hug. You hug him back, holding him tightly for a moment. You wait for his hug to loosen before loosening yours. “Long time no see, how are you?” He asks as he releases you from the hug.

“I’m good, all the better after that hug!” You say with a smile. “What are you doing here!?”

Joel grins before replying, “I’m here to man the international space station, why do you think I’m here? You smell amazing by the way!” He puts his arm around you as he leads you over to a table, his hand lingering longer than it should. “So what are you having?” He asks as you sit down.

“Just a latte for me” you reply.

“Okay, back in a few” he says as he makes his way to the counter. While he’s gone you sit and think about how you both met all those years ago. Who knew that meeting someone in a chat room fifteen years ago would lead to a friendship like yours? And who knew that you lived a few blocks away from each other?

You spent so much time together over the years, watching football together, poker nights, movie nights. And all as just friends, nothing has ever happened between you besides the occasional snuggle while watching a movie, when you’ve fallen asleep on him.

“Here you go” he says as he places your drink in front of you. He puts his drink down and takes a seat. You weren’t single the last time you saw each other and neither was he, things are different this time. You’ve gone from just friends to sexting buddies over the past six months, almost the entire time you’ve been away. You don’t remember how it happened exactly but the thought of taking this friendship further, excites you.

“So... how is work?” You ask, unsure how to start a conversation that isn’t sex related. Until you moved away, normal conversation wasn’t as issue for you but since the sexting began…

He laughs before answering you. “Work is tiring and boring compared to sitting here with you.” You blush.

You continue talking for over an hour, the excitement building the longer your conversation goes on.

“So... do you have to rush off? I’m only here for three days and I’d love to hang out more.” He asks.

“Nope, I’m off work for so I have no plans for the rest of the evening.” You reply with a shy grin.

“Good.” Joel says before taking your hand and getting up from the table. He walks you outside, putting his arm around you again to keep you warm as the cold wind picks up. He hails a cab and you get in, he gives the address of the hotel where he’s staying and the taxi turns in the needed direction. Joel pulls you close and you sit together, you snuggle into him and hear him sigh.

The journey to the hotel takes around ten minutes, when you arrive he pays the driver and you walk together up to the entrance. Butterflies dancing in your stomach in anticipation for what is to come.

Joel takes your hand and leads you in the direction of his room, his speed increased slightly from earlier. You get to his room and he uses his keycard to open the door, he lets you in first and steps in behind you. He switches on the light and closes the door behind himself. You shrug out of your jacket and place it on the hook on the wall beside the door, walking further into the room.

Joel grabs your hand and pulls you towards him. “I’ve been waiting six months to do this” he says as he spins you around and pushes you against the door, pinning your hands above your head. His mouth crashing down on yours as he kisses you hard. He lets your hands go momentarily as he takes off his jacket, before grabbing them again and deepening the kiss. Your tongues lapping furiously together as the passion heightens. He breaks the kiss, “Don’t fucking move!” Joel commands as he bends and unzips your boots, removing them and tossing them across the room. He then grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head, exposing your full breasts in your favourite red bra. He groans before pulling his shirt off too, throwing it aside, then grabs your chin with one hand. His other takes ahold of your hands again as he kisses you with even more passion and hunger than before.

Joel grabs your left breast in his hand roughly, making you moan into his mouth. Before the hand makes its way down your body, rubbing your pussy over your leggings. You moan again louder making his touch even more urgent. He reaches inside your leggings and panties to find your pussy, wet and waiting. Joel growls as he parts your folds and touches your clit, you groan as he rubs circles around your clit. It hardens at his touch.

Joel drops to his knees and grabs the top of your leggings and panties pulling them down and removing them. He parts your legs before grinning up at your and places his whole mouth over your mound. You gasp and grind your hips instinctively, your breath quickening.

His tongue flicks over your clit making you sigh before parting your lips with his fingers and taking your clit between his lips and sucking gently.

Your hands that had stayed above your head fall down and your palms push against the door. Your hips still grinding into his mouth. Your breathing becoming heavy, you put your hands on his head and pull him closer, his mouth and tongue exploring your pussy that’s getting wetter by the second.

“Ugh! You’re gonna make me cum... Joel... I’m gonna cum!” You scream, he grabs ahold of your ass so you can’t pull away, his licking and sucking getting faster. Your orgasm hits hard, you writhe and moan. His sucking gets harder as he tries to take in all your juices, he moans, the vibration running through you making the orgasm last longer.

You eventually come down from that massive high. He kisses your sensitive pussy gently, sending mini shockwaves through you.

He stands up, your breathing still jagged as he kisses you. He whispers your name before kissing you again. You push him back giving yourself room to get down on your knees and open the belt and zipper of his jeans, pulling them down. His erection bouncing as it is exposed. He steps out of the jeans and looks down at you. He growls and grabs you by the throat, pulling you to your feet.

“Let’s see if you really do like it” he growls as he drags you over to the table. Bending you face down over it. Your hands splayed out on the table either side of your face, anticipating what is coming.

Thwack!

The sound of the spank echoing around the room, followed by you gasping and moaning.

Thwack!

He slaps the other cheek, causing a similar echo followed by a louder moan. He looks down and sees your pussy dripping with lust, another growl escapes his lips.

Thwack!!!

The sound of both cheeks being spanked at the same time eludes you as you concentrate on the ecstasy of the feeling. He drops to his knees again and kisses up your thighs, skipping over your dripping pussy to kiss away the sting of the spanks. Before burying his face in your dripping pussy once again. You groan loudly as his mouth clamps over you, sucking hard, his tongue flicking up and down. He stiffens his tongue and slides it inside your wet cunt, your eyes widen and you let out a gasp.

He groans again before standing and placing his cock at your soaking wet entrance, “Bare?” Your mouth opens as you feel him rub the head up and down. Covering himself in your slick before sinking inside you.

“I don’t want anything between us.... Oh fuck!” You gasp again as he reaches the deepest part of you. “Y/N...” Joel groans out as he backs up, then sinks inside you again. His hands on your hips as he moves in and out of you. You grunt every time he hits that sweet spot deep inside of you. You smirk to yourself then use your inner muscles to squeeze his cock.

He lets out a loud growl and he pounds into you harder. He begins moving more urgent, more frantic. Chasing the orgasm he craves.

“Y/N... fuck... yes!!” Joel groans between thrusts. You reach up and put your hand on the wall, raising yourself a little. Hoping to catch a glimpse of you both in the mirror. He senses what you’re trying to do so he grabs a handful of your hair, pulling on it so your head is high enough to see in the mirror. You catch Joel’s eye and you make eye contact, he curls his lips in a snarl and fucks you harder. Your eyes roll back in your head as you let the lust fill you, your orgasm building.

“I’m gonna cum inside you, you hear me?” He growls. You nod. “I can’t hear you!” He grunts.

“Yes. Cum in me. Please!” You beg. He lets out a roar as he climaxes, unloading inside you. His grip on your hair tightening, as he yanks you back into him.

Your climax hits hard, you jerk violently and scream out loud. He continues to fuck you hard as he rides his orgasm out inside you. Your legs growing weak as he finally collapses onto your back, breathing heavily as he kisses your shoulder. He stands and pulls out of you, your mixed cum dripping out and onto the beige carpet.

Joel reaches for you and pulls you to you, your legs are shaking so he sweeps you up into his arms and heads for the bed. Laying you down gently and climbing onto the bed beside you. Pulling you close, holding you as your breathing returns to normal.

“That was worth the ten years wait!” Joel says with a grin.

“I thought it was six months?” You question, confusion clear on your face.

“Nah I lied, I’ve wanted to do that as long as I’ve known you.” You blush and bury your face in his chest. He rolls you over so he’s on top of you.

“And we’re gonna do that again, just as soon as I can.” Joel says as he kisses you. You moan into his mouth as he kisses you. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back. You feel movement down near your legs. “Looks like it’s not going to be a long wait”

TO BE CONTINUED

Tags: @bettyfrommars @jobean12-blog

#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #ladymunson #smut #18+ only

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