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creedslove · 5 months

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WHO KNEW? 💍💔 - PART THREE

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

"You took my hand, you showed me how

You promised me you'd be around (...)

I took your words and I believed in everything you said to me (...)

If someone said three years from now, you'd be long gone, I'd stand up and punch them out, 'cause they're all wrong

I know better, 'cause you said forever, and ever, who knew?"

Summary: you and Joel try to handle what happens after you both slept together and a revelation brings the truth about the nature of your relationship with Joel

• This is the third part of the small series: Who Knew? 💍💔 (PART ONE | PART TWO) which was also inspired by this amazing HEADCANON request

Warnings: angst, broken hearts, mentions of divorce, mentions of infidelity, fluff, age gap (Joel is four to five years older than reader and the time skip is 12 to 14 years (Sarah's age) but feel free to imagine whatever you want), smut, oral sex (f! receiving/m!receiving) piv, dirty talking, discussions of relationships

A/N: alright besties, I really don't know where this chapter came from, I had sworn I wouldn't write continuations of this story, but here I am, with a serious case of Joel Miller brain rot and all I could think of was him! I love this story with all my heart and I don't know if this chapter is consistent or not, as it was written through several days and I poured my feelings into it, but days change and so do feelings so hehehe, also, I may or may not have been a little too horny for Joel xD, anyway, I hope you beautiful besties like the story ❤️

12.3k words

Waking up by Joel's side was something you could've sworn it would never happen, it would only become a distant memory as the years advanced after the divorce; you thought maybe you would think about it every so often, when nostalgia got the best of you, if you felt lonely at times or maybe even the moments you would spend next to your ideal future husband, a man worthy of you and your love, someone who would actually treat you exactly how you deserved it, who wouldn't run away with the first willing whore he could find and build a life with her, the life that used to be yours, and was supposed to. No, that ideal husband would never steal from you, not your happiness, your beauty or your youth, as much as you closed your eyes and tried picturing this ideal, ethereal man, you were haunted by your ex-husband. It was his smile that came to your mind when you thought of this bittersweet fantasy; his hands that gripped your body, it was him. You realized your deepest wish was to have Joel as that husband; in an alternative universe where he wasn't a jerk, instead, he would be the perfect, sweet and hard-working husband, just like he used to in the beginning, and you both would love and support each other, building up a life, a family and a home together. That was how things were supposed to go, but everyone knew the end of that story.

What nobody except you and Joel knew, was the plot-twisted epilogue of your story with Joel. Very often, you thought of your relationship as a closed book, a shitty, depressing romance novel that had its indignant ending written and done, with no space to fix things up… until your return to Austin and things simply started to happen. You refused to believe it was a new chapter or a new beginning, quite the opposite, as much as your rational said had begged and screamed not to do it, not to get close to Joel and you simply went there and did it, now it begged you to put an end to it, your mind told you the night you'd spent together was just scratching that maddening itch and nothing more. It would be easy to pretend nothing had happened: Tommy had left shortly after the cops arrived at your place and headed to his girlfriend's, according to Joel. Sarah was absolutely clueless and had no idea what was going on, especially after both you and her dad had put an end to her efforts of setting you both up. All you had to do was to convince Joel of the same: it was a mistake, it shouldn't happen again.

But then, at the same time, why was it so good to wake up next to him? In fact, next to him was an understatement, as you were all over him. Safely tucked into his arms during the night, you had switched positions several times like you often did when you slept, but Joel always kept you at arms length, refusing to let go of you no matter what. It shouldn't feel this good, but it did, and even when morning came and it was time to get up, you pretended you didn't really have to. It was your secret, no one would know nor judge you if you stayed a little longer in his bed, what was the worst that could happen, after all? So the moment you felt Joel stirring right behind you, your eyes closed shut and you relaxed your body as best as you could so he would think you were asleep. It was quite stupid, you were aware, but suddenly you felt shy to be awake in his presence?! It was odd, but you didn't know how to act exactly… were you supposed to kiss? Act as a continuation of the night before or straight up pretend nothing happened? Should you begin ‘the talk' with Joel?! You didn't even know what you were going to say, so instead, pretending to be dead, well actually, asleep, was definitely a better plan. Joel hadn't changed in all those years, you recognized and anticipated every single move he would make; it started by his soft groans the moment he fully woke up, the hesitation he probably felt the moment he eyed you there and quickly the memories of the night before filled him entirely. His morning erection was hard pressed against your ass and that was another difficult part of the equation taking place in your mind at that moment; all it would take you was wiggling your ass a little and you both could start your day in a very fun way. It was tempting, and while you baffled yourself whether to do it or not, you felt Joel again. The way he gently placed his hand on your arm, caressing it up and down, almost in a ghostly touch, a bit afraid of scaring you away; to Joel, you were like a beautiful, delicate butterfly flying into his life, making things prettier for him, but also so easily scared off. He couldn't afford to have you fly away from him once more, not that time. His hand went to your naked stomach, stroking it softly, he enjoyed the butter-like feel of your skin under his hand. After all the cuts, bruises and dirt from hard work, it was a nice change to be able to touch you. He'd had his fair share of touching beautiful women, but none of them would ever compare to you. You were naked under his touch, entirely for himself, a dream that came true at that moment and yet it seemed way too good to be real. Hands that stroked your body leaving a trail of goosebumps over your sensitive skin, as he nuzzled your shoulder, taking some strands of hair away from your neck, he let his stubble beard scratch it softly, lips connecting to your skin, in gentle and silent pecks, ones that made you bite your lips not to moan too loud, even if the goosebumps insisted on appearing, hardening your nipples and sending a wave of lust down your core. Joel had his good ear to the mattress, not hearing if you were letting out small, sexy sounds but he could see the visible signs of his caress on you. He wanted more of it, he woke up with hunger, more like starvation and it was for you, your body, your touch, your presence. He wanted you, and he would have you, not only that morning, but forever, by his side.

“I know you're awake” Joel mumbled against your skin, you could feel his teeth nibbling you, making you squeal softly and moan at his touch, you turned around facing him and raised your eyebrow, heart melting at how adorable Joel's messy bed hair was, even if it was a little grayer now, it still made him look so handsome, you couldn't hold yourself back but caress his curls gently.

“How did you know I was awake?” You questioned him and felt his teeth scraping your collarbone instead of actually answering your question. It didn't take very long for Joel to straddle you, pinning you against the mattress as he took in all of you. You were beautiful, gorgeous, you were his. At least that was what he wanted to tell himself, but it didn't matter the future, not then, because at that very moment you belonged to him and only him. You lay under Joel, your breathing accelerating as you didn't know exactly what to do or what to expect, crashing your lips together, you tugged at his hair - you loved Joel's hair so much - and felt his rough hands running even more freely through your body. One knee on each side of you, preventing you from moving as he stared down at you, your body being the most beautiful piece of art he'd ever laid eyes on. Joel Miller was a man sinking deep further into his passions and he couldn't even hide it or pretend it otherwise. His mouth went for your neck, then down your collarbone, your breasts, so beautiful and tempting as they'd always been, time he'd been so kind to you, and now he appreciated it. He kissed your breasts gently at first, getting to your nipples, they were always so hard and sensitive and it was all for him. Lips wrapping around them, his tongue flicking then gently as you tugged even harder and pulled his curls gently. The way Joel made you feel was always something else, it was so stupid to try to fight that, at least while you were pinned down by his strong, sexy body. When he finally let go of your breasts, he kept moving his tortuous path south down you. His lips were dancing over your stomach, he loved that part of you and had lost track of how many times he'd daydreamed about your figure looking round while you carried his baby Miller inside. He enjoyed picturing it, another life coming out of you, a baby that would be half you and half him, that would bring Sarah the title of ‘big sister’ and seal the happy ending of your story in which you would become Mrs.Miller once more, for real and above all for the rest of your lives. Deep down he knew that wouldn't go further than a simple fantasy, something to lose himself in before falling asleep before bed every night, and yet, it always brought him such joy, comfort and affection within his body, and at that moment, when he was kissing your womb, his hands holding you legs spread as he took his time in kissing and nibbling your lower stomach, he closed his eyes and made that irrational wish, practically, that wouldn't do, not in real life, not with your history weighing heavily on the two of you, nor with your life styles that were so different from each other's. He worked too much, Sarah was already growing into a teenager, you were inexperienced at that matter at the same time he was getting older and was certain that having to watch a baby and later on a toddler would absolutely kill his back. But if it was so impractical, it should be so sweet at the same time. It would be a lot easier for him to keep those stupid thoughts out of his mind. When Joel got closer to your core, you wanted to tell him to stop, to remind him that you didn't use protection at all and you'd been missing up the pills, warn him there was maybe some probability of you both making that situation even more of a mess than it already was, but the words died out in your mouth, the moment Joel's eyes matched yours, the pool of brown warmth making your heart skip a beat at the same time he parted your legs, giving your inner thighs each a love bite, and your breathing accelerating once more in the anticipation of what was about to happen.

“Relax, baby girl” he purred against your skin, he was so close to your core you could feel his breath fanning your sensitive area, his hands gripping the outside of your legs in a way it was clear he was claiming his power over you. You were about to be devoured by a hungry man and at that, your heart raced like no other, just as Joel reached you.

His lips ghosted over your slit, loving how shaky and sensitive you were at that moment, head shoved between your legs he took his hands into action, using them to spread your lips wide and groaned in approval of how sexy that view was. Ever since you married Joel, being intimate with your husband was something normal and natural, expected even, and whereas you weren't a prude by any means, the way Joel touched you or how filthy that mouth could be always made you go red from head to toes, especially when he simply stopped at stared at your body like that.

“Fuck baby, you still got the same pretty pussy I remember, it's the best one I've ever seen, you taste so fucking good, this sweet clit of yours had always made my mouth water” he teased as you could barely hear his voice through the adrenaline making all that blood pumped so loud into your ear. He spread your pussy lips open, his cock was already twitching to see your cunt twitching for him. The way your clit twitched in anticipation and your hole clenched at the air, how your wetness simply pooled in your entrance and it was all for Joel, because of Joel and he wasn't going to waste another minute before having you. You closed your eyes the moment he kissed your clit, kissing it as he would with your lips, all you could do was whimper and once more grip your hands into his hair pulling his head against your pussy, wanting more and more. At your touch, Joel stopped playing around, he simply sank his face into you, devouring you, licking, suckling and flicking your sensitive clit, lapping at your juices so hungrily, like a madman having his favorite meal. Joel's hands were large and his fingers were thick, so the moment he inserted two digits inside, you were already filled with him, the way he ate your pussy and fingered you, the knot forming down your lower belly, you barely had time to warn him, but it wasn't necessary, Joel knew your body well enough to know you were cumming, getting so nice and ready for him he continued, until you exploded into an intense and long orgasm, in which he tried to make it last for you as much as he could.

After your bliss, it didn't take very long for him to slip inside, now that you were all wet and stretched for him, you wrapped your legs around his waist and closed your eyes in pleasure. Your nails scratching down his broad back, his skin warm and sweaty on top of you. You wanted more of him, at that moment that was you favorite place in the world, primal, obscene, his grunts into your ear as he fucked you like he would any whore. At that moment you couldn't hold back your desires, your lustful thoughts took the best of you. If Joel asked you to be his personal cum dumpster, you would say yes. And at that realization, he came inside, once more, just like he did the night before and you loved it.

Suddenly the exhaustion took over you, your body and your thoughts and it seemed like an impossible task to keep your eyes open.

“Sleep, baby girl, relax” Joel whispered against your ear once more, pulling you closer, the two of you appreciating the lovely bliss you shared after your orgasms. It felt right, even if it shouldn't.

•••

When Joel woke up that morning for the second time with you tangled in his arms, he smiled at himself, wondering how lucky a motherfucker like himself could actually be. The past hours replayed in his mind, over and over, and he still didn't believe they were true, simply because they were too good to be true in the first place, still the reminders of how true it all had been were there: the pink fading lines you left all over his skin were still apparent, your clothes scattered around the bedroom floor, the way your hair invaded his pillow and now you smell lingered all over his bedsheets. It was real, and he couldn't be happier. Watching as you exhaustively slept, he dragged himself out of bed, not really wanting to leave but knowing he needed to start his day somehow. So he just planted a soft kiss on your forehead and headed to shower before going downstairs, as he needed to get breakfast ready for his girl.

You on the other hand, slept without even noticing you, being so exhausted after another steamy session with Joel; when you woke up nearly an hour later, you felt his side of the bed empty and for a split second you sighed disappointed at the impression it'd been just a dream, which only lasted until you could feel that bittersweet soreness between your legs, the mess Joel's room was in and how sticky you were with sweat and some of your juices mixed up together. You bit your lips and giggled, you thought you'd wake up full of regret, feeling guilty and upset about what happened, but turns out you felt great, perhaps, all you needed to decrease that upsetting feeling of melancholy you often grew inside was a good fuck provided by the best man you'd ever tried.

You yawned big and stretched, getting up and feeling that familiar sting between your legs, a reminder of Joel's virility and size. As you weren't sure what to do or where Joel could be, or even worse: if Sarah was home at all, you decided to be as silent as possible, your wish was just getting dressed and going downstairs, but the moment you saw your reflection in the mirror you knew you had to shower. It didn't take too long to find Joel's bathroom, you got yourself under the shower stream, groaning at how your muscles relaxed under it, the way the knots on your hair seemed to undo themselves. You chuckled while soaping your body in Joel's soap, shampooing your hair with his shampoo, smelling entirely like him, as if he'd marked you like an animal would. Perhaps you shouldn't enjoy this obscene thought as much as you did, but at that point that ship had sailed and you couldn't care less about it. Stepping outside the shower, you dried yourself and went through Joel's drawers just enough to find something comfortable to wear - one of his boxers and an old shirt.

“Joel?!” You called him at the top of the stairs, hoping you two were still alone there, as you really didn't want to risk being seen in those - lack of - clothes by Tommy or god forbid, Sarah.

“In here” Joel replied, his voice coming from the kitchen and as soon as you got downstairs you were hit by the delicious smell of coffee, and just as your stomach growled in hunger you realized you couldn't even remember your last meal.

You followed the delicious smell and smiled when you saw him flipping a bunch of pancakes, frowning softly at the image, it was so odd to see Joel being so domestic, cooking breakfast when in reality, you were the one who usually got to do all the cooking and chores, not to mention the choice of menu for the breakfast.

“You don't like pancakes!” you said surprised as you approached the stove to confirm if you weren't seeing things, being surprised by the way Joel wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer, greeting you with a peck on the lips, which you didn't expect but you couldn't complain either.

“I don't, but you do, and you deserve it, baby girl” he stroked your sides as he kept flipping pancakes with his free hand like a damn pro. You could only imagine how many times he had to step in and make his daughter pancakes until he got that skilled at that. You looked at him and as if he'd read your mind, he pecked your forehead this time

“Sarah is at her friend's which means she's only coming in the afternoon, you can hang out, maybe we can grab lunch together and then I'll drive you home, fix your door and all..” he said and stared lovingly at you “if you wanna go, otherwise you can stay here” he winked and made you chuckle.

“Joel, about us, about what happened-”

“Don't do that now, darling, let's not upset ourselves, let's have breakfast together and we can talk about it later”

You could tell Joel was postponing the subject, it was simply inevitable to talk about your future together or lack of it, due to your history, what happened between the two of you should be addressed, and even if you had been as willing as he was, it was a fact you weren't so easy to convince that perhaps being together was a good idea. However, he was also right: you could discuss things later, because at that moment you just wanted to have breakfast with Joel; damage had already been done, so what if you two continued to act the way you were? If anything, if you two parted ways, you would simply still have a nice time to cherish, to balance the ups and downs of your relationship together.

You two walked to the table, Joel placed the pancakes down and got comfortable on the chair, taken by surprise as you simply sat on his lap, instead of taking the seat next to him. You looked at him with a grin and stole a peck from his lips

“What?! You said we should have breakfast first” you giggled and started eating, at the same time his arm wrapped around your frame and he pulled you even closer. You couldn't really complain about that breakfast, it was the best you've ever had in so long, and it had nothing to do with pancakes.

•••

During daylight it was possible to see the damage the thieves left in your home; not only did they steal valuable things, but they also left a trail of mess and dirt through the floors, making you feel so angry at the shit hole they'd left your house. As soon as you got off Joel's truck, you could see cleaning, fixing and buying things again would take a long time, and even if you had the best contractor around town next to you, you still had to do chores. He placed his hands on his waist, furrowing his brows while he scanned the room, thinking of what he should do. You quickly changed into more comfortable clothes, grabbing a mop and a bucket and began cleaning up everything you had to, you reminded Joel he could make himself at home and grab drinks or snacks, since it was the least you could do after he'd been so kind to help you - and fuck you raw morning and night.

Once you'd finished your chores and showered quickly to get rid of the sweat, you went downstairs, looking for Joel. He had fixed a few things here and there, things you hadn't even noticed, but the moment you walked down the stairs, he was fixing your door.

And you were not prepared for that sight, at all.

Not with how Joel's shirt was clinging tight to his body, damp with sweat, the way his jeans looked so good around his thighs and his butt, or how he flexed his biceps unconsciously while he forced the warped wood forwards, the soft grunt he let out and how his huge hand wiped the forehead off his forehead was enough to set your core on fire. You stood there, at the bottom of the stairs, gripping the handrail and wondering when you'd become that thirsty for a man. Even when you had relationships after your divorce, you couldn't remember being that easily turned on, but at that moment, a mere display of Joel's roughness was enough to pool your wetness on your panties. He was just so mainly, so strong, something primal and intense about that man's body, he was different from any man you'd met, and the years only added to it, you were so tired of fighting your urges and feelings. Yes, Joel had been the worst husband a woman could've asked for, but just because you wanted to crazily ride on his cock, it didn't mean you would have to marry him again, definitely not. Joel wasn't a good husband, but he was a damn fine lover.

“I didn't see you there” you jumped at Joel's voice, distracted by it as he snapped you out of your lustful thoughts, nodding at him and smiling nervously. He cleared his throat “I'm guessing you want to talk, don't you?” There was a slight hint of disappointment in his voice and you thought for a while

“Yeah, we need to talk, just… take a seat, I'll get you some water” you pointed at your couch and disappeared into the kitchen, finding Joel standing still when you returned with a fresh bottle of water for him. He hadn't moved, something inside of him telling him not to, some kind of superstition, that maybe if he sat down he would go back to the poor reality of his life, a life without you, your touch, your caress. As long as he stood up, he could always find something to do around your home and then spend a little longer by your side. He took the bottle with a nod in gratitude and took a big sip of it, at the same time it seemed you were watching an erotic movie just by the way your body reacted to the image of his neck, the way his veins pumped as he swallowed his water, showing his thirst, and to think just a few hours before he was eating your pussy with the same ferocity, made you press your thighs together. You needed that man, and you were going to have him, no matter what. To hell with needing to have a serious chat, to move on with your life and not forgetting the past, you needed him carnally. Joel finished his water and finally walked to your couch, taking a seat and spreading his legs, just like he often did to find a comfortable position. You hated when men did that, taking up space and being rude, but not Joel, the way he did it was hot, it reminded you of how big he was, his long legs, big, strong thighs, so perfect to ride, and his frowny face, you could tell he was worried, probably thinking you would just thank him for the help, tell him what happened between the two of you couldn't happen again and ask him to leave. Hiding the heartbreak under his mean face, little did he know that conversation would have to be postponed, because your mouth was about to be too busy to talk.

“You want to talk, right?” He asked, nervously running his hands through his jeans, watching as you took another step closer and nodded.

“Yeah, but we can't talk right now… I'd rather use my mouth for something else” you winked at him, falling onto his knees and began caressing his thighs over his rough jean, smirking at his surprised face, hands fiddling his pants as you opened his fly and bit your lips

“I need your cock now, Joel, I need you in my mouth”

He was taken aback by your sudden change of behavior, he'd sat down expecting to be told to leave, but now he had you on your knees begging for his cock and that was something he couldn't deny. His left hand gripped your hair, tilting your head up a little, while his right hand stroked your cheek gently, his thumb ghosted over your lips, tracing an invisible path on it as he nodded. Suddenly, roles were reversed: he wasn't waiting for you to stop and decide what he should do, instead, he was in charge and he was about to make you choke on his cock.

“So pretty, baby girl…” Joel's voice wasn't much more than a whisper “you want my cock, don't you? Just like a filthy little slut, you wanna choke on it? Want my cum down your pretty throat?”

All you could was nod at his filthy words, Joel's mouth could drive any woman inside without any physical touch, just his dirty choice of words was enough to cause a turmoil of feelings and increase the pool in your panties. He lifted his hips and pulled his pants down, freeing his cock, already hard and held it by the base, while you licked your lips. You could see his tip glistening and closing your eyes as Joel rubbed his tip against your lips, before you opened it and took his cock into your mouth. Joel threw his head back and groaned in pleasure, he could feel his balls quivering while both hands flew to your hair, gripping it as you bobbed your head up and down his shaft, your hand squeezing and stroking his cock up and down where you couldn't reach his length. You'd always loved Joel's groans, the way he sounded so voracious, you clenched your thighs together, trying to give your throbbing clit some sort of relief. He guided you through his blowjob, he hadn't gotten a good one like that in years; of course he'd had his affairs, nightstands and such, but no mouth in the world compared to yours at all. He praised you, reminded you were his favorite cock slut and he wouldn't have any other than you.

You could feel by the way he clenched in your mouth his release was close, he was about to unload and you wanted to swallow all of him. So you continued, even when Joel tried to lift your head gently and warn you, you didn't need any warnings, you simply continued blowing him until he was cumming into your mouth. He reached his orgasm with another grunt, at the same time you worked your magic and swallowed every single drop of him. The way his cock pulsed inside of your mouth, how his breathing got rapid, his chest raising up and down at a fast pace, it was the sexiest thing you'd ever seen. Joel Miller was a strong, manly man, and you loved it.

He finally rested his eyes on you, his hell and heaven on earth, and he just needed more of you, convinced that whatever he had of you just wasn't enough. He helped you up, then pulled you to his lap, making you squeak in surprise as you landed right on top of him. You rested your forehead against his, while he pressed your body closer, never wanting to let go. He pulled you for a kiss, your lips tasting like him, sent Joel another wave of lust and need; he kissed your neck, his hands fiddling with your clothes, getting rid of them as he wanted you bare for him, your body on his, naked; he wanted to take you inside your house, not just some dirty, rushed secret locked in his room, but instead, claim you in any room of your home, if you ever wanted to break with him and decide he shouldn't be part of your life any longer, then at least he would leave his mark knowing each time you walked into any room, you would think of him, reminded of the time Joel fucked you and emptied himself inside of your tight juicy cunt.

“Come on, darling, ride my cock” his rough voice commanded you at the exact time Joel's hand pulled your shorts and your panties down. He went for your ass, massaging it, squeezing your cheeks and slapping it a couple of times, seeing it wiggle softly

“You're so fucking hot, you know that, sugar? Only you can make my cock throb the way you do” he praised you. His fingers traveled to your cunt, caressing it for the second time that day, making you spread your legs as wide as you could over him. He stroked your clit, feeling your arousal pooled in your entrance, it was intoxicating to him, he needed you every single day for the rest of his life. He gripped your hips, helping you lift yourself up and as held his cock in place and sank down onto it.

“Just like that, gorgeous, take that cock baby girl” he praised you.

You spent the rest of your afternoon riding Joel on your couch, not giving a single shit if any of the neighbors could see it through the curtains or the mere fact Joel had given you the worst heartbreak of your life; you needed him as much as he needed you, and it seemed neither of you could let go.

•••

The following days went by exactly the same way they usually did: you either worked from home or you went to the office a few times a week, you went grocery shopping, led a quiet, normal life, received Sarah's visits almost daily with the exception you were also seeing her dad without her having any idea. In fact, no one apart from you and Joel knew what was going on, and neither of you had any intention of changing that. Being completely honest, you should have broken things up with Joel the morning after, but each time you decided to do so, you simply couldn't get it done, the mere thought of standing in front of Joel and asking him to stay away from you was devastating, even if you turned to your memories of the day you found out Joel was in love with Angela and didn't want to be with you any longer couldn't help you. Of course they were as painful as if they were fresh, but at the same time it also felt like it happened between two completely different people rather than you and Joel. It was so difficult to process that Joel and your current Joel were the same, because deep down your heart claimed they weren't; the Joel you were constantly hooking up with was a hardworking, a great father, he was caring, sweet, he was passionate and he treated you as if you were the best thing he'd ever seen in the whole world. He'd become a closed man to relationships due to the guilt he felt for treating you the way he did and the abandonment he suffered from Angela. As much as that sounded twisted, the fact you were both abandoned by people you loved, also brought you closer, especially because he got to know exactly how you felt, which increased his guilt. It was terrible, but he was aware he was probably going to carry that for the rest of his life; even if he watched you smile and laugh, or if you wrapped your arms around him, underneath the joy and excitement he felt within, there would always be a tad of guilt just like a bitter taste in his mouth, reminding him of his coward attitude and how much better than him you truly were. As you had told Joel while you still hadn't crossed the line of how far your relationship should go, the problem wasn't the fact he fell in love with Angela, that could've happened to anyone, even if the sting of rejection hurt, being tricked and lied to was way worse than that. Even if it was hard to recover from the pain - if you had even recovered at all, after all, more than a decade went by without you being able to have a commitment to anyone, unable to stay in a relationship for more than other a few months, - you could only imagine Joel's experience was even worse; not only his relationship with Angela ended, but she also cut her ties with her own baby daughter. The disappointment he felt to realize his daughter would have to grow up without her mom, the paralyzing fear of being on his own to raise a baby, must've been intense. And even if some people could actually laugh at how funny life can be and swear there was still some kind of divine justice lurking around and he was simply paying for everything he'd done to you, you couldn't find the amusement in that situation, it was so sad, you could only feel pity. It seemed to you the years had turned Joel into a silent companion of pain, and not so much into the villain you'd projected onto him.

And all that was only the rational side of the story, because if you left it all to your feelings and desires, you wouldn't be able to leave his bed. Perhaps you were both feeling an overloaded amount of everything you had repressed for each other over the years; being able to externalize it was addictive, at first it was thought to be an inch you both needed to scratch, but soon enough it became obvious it was way more than that, which caused you to fall into his arms whenever you tried to make things easier for the two of you and simply let this condemned relationship go.

As you closed your laptop and watched Sarah's brows furrowing at the paper in front of her, in a mixture of focused and cranky for not being able to solve another math problem easily, she reminded you of Joel and how he would get the same way and have the same expression whenever he got frustrated with something not going according planned. You gently placed your hand on top of hers and offered her a reassuring smile, Sarah had had her nails done by you earlier, proud to see how pretty the sparkly color got on contracts with her skin. She was such a beautiful girl and you enjoyed being able to help her discover that, by introducing simple things like that, which meant the world to her, since she didn't have a mom around, it was nice doing stuff like that with someone experienced who could give her advice on school, friends and boys. She really appreciated it and if it were for Sarah, she would find a way to set you up with her dad and become one small family.

“you should have a break, you've been stuck in this question for a long time, try again later” you advised her and even if she sighed in a gruff way, - again, so Joel Miller coded - she nodded, closing her notebook and checking up her nails discreetly, which brought a warmth into your heart.

“So…” you started, hoping you would sound convincing enough and not raise any kind of suspicions from her, after all, that girl was smart “...you told me your dad is coming to pick you up, right? When he does, invite him inside so you guys can have dinner with me” you suggested, even if you and Joel had already agreed on it. You hadn't been able to see each other in a few days let alone touch each other, which was actually what you both really wanted, so all the options you got were texting like a bunch of horny teenagers. Now, sending nudes to a guy was something you would strongly disagree several months ago, but now? Each time your phone buzzed, you rushed to it, in hopes to get yet another picture of Joel's big hand holding his cock by its base, so you could lock yourself in any room and pull down your bra and panties, exactly the way he liked it. So spending some time around Joel even if you both had to play it cool was better than nothing. Sarah agreed but still felt a little puzzled at your suggestion.

“Alright… but why? You're regretting saying no when I tried to set you up?” She chuckled and you rolled your eyes, hoping you weren't so obvious. You moved to the kitchen and invited her to come along, so she could help you with dinner. You opened the fridge and had your back to Sarah, while you picked the meat and the vegetables.

“No, it's just that your dad was so nice to me, he fixed my front door after the break in, it would be a nice way to repay” you said “why do you even say that?”

“I think dad has a girlfriend or something…” she shrugged and you stopped, looking at her and trying to control the shock over your face.

“Y-yeah? And how do you know it?”

“Well, dad's different now, he seems happier, more cheerful, he's very often texting on his phone…”

“And what do you think of that?”

“It's nice, I guess” Sarah licked her lips “dad deserves to be happy, he's been lonely for a long time, ever since my mom left…” she said “but uncle Tommy says dad was sad before that, apparently there was another girl before mom, it didn't work between them or dad made her go away, I don't know why, but uncle Tommy told me once that even when he was with my mom, he couldn't forget about her an-”

“What happened then?” Only after you said it you realized you interrupted Sarah and sounded a little crazy, she didn't understand why you were so into that story after all, but seeing how eager you were to hear the ending of it, she continued.

“Well, according to uncle Tommy dad never forgot that girl, but she was way out of his league by the time my mom had left, so my dad sort of gave up dating” she shrugged “then my dad got home and interrupted uncle Tommy when he was about to tell me the full story, and he never spoke about it since” she replied with a simple shrug and pointed at the meat you were about to roast

“Hey, that's my dad's favorite!” She said amused at the coincidence of menus which you knew damn well that wasn't a coincidence, but your treat to Joel. As you kept cooking with Sarah's help, you also thought about the story she'd told you, too many things happening at once: finding out Joel had never forgotten you while his daughter was sure he had a mysterious girlfriend, which of course, was also you.

During dinner, you tried your best to forget about all of that, the way Joel and Sarah fit so well in that scene, the three of you at the table, eating and sharing how your days had been seemed like a beautiful painting of a perfect little family. A portrait of what things could've been like, or should have been like, and you enjoyed it, you couldn't deny it at all. Your gaze met Joel's and you shared a smile, silently agreeing you were spending a family time; you wondered if some day that would actually happen and if you would indeed be a family with Joel, sometimes you thought you would like it, and sometimes you would brush it off as some momentary lapse. But when he reached for your hand under the table and held it, caressing your knuckles with his thumb, your heart raced one more time and you couldn't help but allow yourself to picture a life by his and Sarah's side.

When you were all finished, Joel gladly dismissed his daughter from having to help with the dishes and the moment you two noticed she was fairly entertained with the new books you'd bought, he stole a kiss from you. It was quick but sweet and as much as it left you all giggly and blushing, it wasn't enough. Your need for Joel was overpowering, it was addictive, and you needed to touch him. Nothing would happen between the two of you while Sarah stood just a few feet away, Joel would never risk being caught that way, he respected his daughter too much, but he would kill to have his hands all over your body. He thought of asking you on a escapade with him, but he wasn't sure if it was a good idea, not with Sarah being a little suspicious of how friendly you were acting towards each other. He wondered if he could actually call you his girlfriend, if he could admit he was dating you, because that's what it felt like, but then, if you both came clean about the situation, it would get complicated, not only for him because of Sarah, but he was well aware you would be in a tricky situation with your family, since he knew for a fact your parents hated him, - with plenty reasons to do so - eventually, you would two would have to have the talk. Now, Joel didn't fear not being with you any longer, he knew that wouldn't happen, you were as attached to him as he was to you, but eventually, you would have to define that situation. He knew he could be cold and distant, but it was so damn hard for him to hide his passion, the way he leaned against the doorframe and watched as you carefully put the dishes away, looking every bit of sexy as you could be, not that young and naive little wife he kept at home before he screwed things up, but instead, the powerful, beautiful woman you grew to be.

Sarah was incredibly smart, but she was also naive at some level, which caused her to be oblivious to the fact you called Joel into the backyard at some point, asking him to check something up you wanted it fixed, only to pull him closer and kiss him deeply, gripping his body, wanting him to engulf you like he always did, your nails gently scratching down his back while his lips ravished yours.

“I want to spend the night with you so bad, baby girl” he whispered against your lips “you're so good to me, you treat Sarah like a princess, you cooked us my favorite meal, all I want is to show my gratitude by getting lost between these beautiful thighs” he teased and for a split second you felt like telling him to stay the night, to come clean and tell Sarah you were dating, dating as if you two were pretty much a decade younger and so eager to be in each other's arms, but it couldn't happen that way, not like that, and not at that moment. You nibbled his bottom lip a couple of times before letting go, your body tingled for him, aching for his touch and as he told you he would call Sarah to go home, you felt unannounced tears flooding your eyes for no reason. Why did things have to be so complicated, why Joel couldn't have been this good from the beginning? You could've lived more than a decade of happiness together, if it weren't for that.

As they said their goodbyes, you watched Joel's truck disappear from your eyesight, a pang in your chest insisting on saying it was your family leaving while you played too hard to get.

•••

You had never seen Sarah smile that wide as she did while you two walked around the mall; side by side, a bunch of bags in hands as you spent such a simple, and yet incredible quality time together. For her, it was like hanging out with the mom she never had, and you felt as if you were shopping around for the daughter you could never conceive. It didn't matter where you were going, which stores you were checking and not even exactly what you were buying, just the fact you were doing that together felt incredibly special. It all began when Sarah complained about not having what to wear to the Harry Styles concert in the upcoming week; after months of begging her dad and uncle Tommy, she was given a ticket to the presentation she'd been dreaming of watching, under the condition she wasn't going to drag her dad along. Joel was an amazing dad, and he would do almost about anything for her, but standing in line for hours and then having to watch that guy performing while an entire stadium of hysterical teenage girls would be screaming at the top of their lungs which would probably cause Joel to go deaf in his good ear was a hard pass, that he wouldn't do. In fact, he would. The moment she gave him her puppy eyes and asked him to take her, he would do it, even if he tried tricking himself, however, luck seemed to be standing by his side, as Tommy happened to start dating this chick who was also obsessed with that Harry guy and when she got herself and Tommy a ticket, Sarah was all set. And so was Joel, because without anyone knowing, he managed to get a free night with you. And in the blink of an eye, you and Joel seemed way more excited for the Harry Styles concert than Sarah.

So when she complained she didn't actually have anything nice to wear, you thought of doing that for her, it would be fun, a change of just staying inside reading books, you could spend some girl time together and while you were out with her, you could really watch Sarah, the way she behaved, how she talked and acted, it reminded you so much of Joel, you wondered if she'd taken anything from Angela at all, deep inside, you wish she didn't, even if it was a petty thing to do. The idea of Sarah being similar only to her dad was nothing but comforting and sweet to you, it was the easiest way to see the evolution he went through, unfortunately, he had to learn how to be a better person through the pain, but he had succeeded and that was what it really mattered. You didn't really care if you'd spent a lot on Sarah, you had the money after all, and she deserved it. She was happy, talking excitedly about several things, to the point she barely noticed when Joel walked towards the two of you. He had his jacket on, hair a little messy from the wind as he grinned shyly at the sight of you, his heart skipping a beat as it felt to him he was meeting his daughter and wife at the mall.

Sarah frowned, amused to see her dad, walking towards him, she hugged him, which surprised Joel a little, not expecting that gesture at that very moment.

“What are you doing here, dad?” She asked curiously as Joel greeted you by giving you a peck on the cheek, trying so hard not to seem he was practically drooling over you.

“Tommy needed to buy his girlfriend whatever and asked me for a ride, so while he disappeared into the crowd I was trying to find him” he explained and stared at you “you girls are having fun, I see?” He raised his eyebrow and Sarah eagerly nodded, lifting her bags a little and showing him everything you'd bought her. He was so thankful for everything you were doing for his daughter, especially because he was sure you did it out of kindness and the fact you care about her. You watched their interaction and bit your lips in anticipation, you felt a sudden urge to kiss Joel in front of everyone and walk around the mall holding hands with him, you had never discussed that before, but the thought of it made your heart race. Sarah exchanged a few words with her dad before her eyes went wide as she spotted one of her best friends a couple of stores ahead and smiled big

“Dad, can I go show Nat the things I got? Please?! I'll be right back!” She asked with her sweet eyes and Joel agreed, telling her you two would be around as he intended to keep you company. As you walked towards another store with Joel following you, Sarah soon got entertained with her friend in an ice cream booth nearby. You both chuckled at the scene and he quickly placed his hand on the small of your back.

“Is Tommy really shopping around for his girlfriend or were you just stalking us?” You teased Joel, entering the lingerie store, earning a gasp from him before he could actually answer your question.

“Don't even think about it, Miller, I'm here just to buy some sports bra to go to the gym and nothing more” you added but the mischievous look in his eyes was extremely well-known.

“That's a shame, because this one would look so good on you” he pointed at a lilac lacey pair of underwear, his mouth watering at how beautiful you would certainly get in it, and how stripping you out of all that lace would feel like unwrapping a Christmas gift. You frowned at him, reminding him you were just there to buy a couple of things and leave, in fact, you shouldn't have even let Joel get inside the store with you, it wouldn't be appropriate and how would he explain to Sarah what the hell he was doing there in the first place. Joel, on the other hand, was pretty much entertained by all the beautiful colors and shapes the tiny pieces of fabric came with; he could picture every inch of your body in them, trying to guess which ones would look better. He knew all of them would be just perfect, but he was a guy who was simply drawn to the traditional good old red lacey; it was gorgeous, and it would be a nice gift for the two of you. As he looked around to find you and show you what he'd decided to treat you to, you were nowhere to be seen; the sales clerk already busy with the new customers walking into the store, he decided to wander after you. He was thankful no one seemed to mind nor notice him there, too worried to be seen as a creep, but determined to find you nonetheless; as he got to the fitting room area, he quickly called your name.

“What now, Joel?!” You immediately replied from the one in the corner, slightly annoyed at the fact he'd followed you there, sometimes Joel was a little like a stray puppy, coming after you with those big sad brown eyes, and even if you wanted to shop for freaking sports bras on your own, you couldn't help but enjoy the fact he was just so needy of you.

When Joel opened the door and got inside, you even tried to argue and ask him what the heck he was doing there, but instead, he smirked, gripping your sides and kissing you as a way to keep you silent. You wanted to push him away and tell him to fuck off, but the rushing adrenaline you felt through your veins made you feel alive, and as always, Joel's touch set you on fire. He broke the kiss dragging his lips over to your neck and then your collarbone, his hands climbing up your sides and going to your breasts, squeezing them softly

“This sports bra ain't bad, but I'd say a work of art like your body should have more lace, or glitter or whatever shit you like” he said in a grunt and lowered your top, even against your protests that weren't much more than just some whimpers that couldn't convince you, let alone Joel. You could feel his beard scratching down your chest and going straight to your breasts, lips wrapping around your nipples as he suckled on it gently at first, flicking it with his tongue before moving to your other breast and working the same magic. Your heart raced to the point you could feel your blood rushing through your ears, the fact you both could be caught at any moment and kicked out of the store, or even worse: be arrested for public indecency, added a hint of fear to the traditional lust you had for Joel; that man would be the dead of you, that much you were sure of.

“We can't Joel…” you mumbled against his curls, his head on your chest as his fingers found their way down your belly, getting so close to your sweet spot, he was so needy of you, wanting all of you to the point it felt he would go crazy. His digits toyed with the hem of your panties, while you pulled his curls a little, making him groan.

“Sorry honey” you whispered and kissed this temple, which made him smile. Joel was about to finger you in a fitting room in the middle of a store and you were so sweet to him, it made his heart ache a little, at the realization he definitely didn't deserve you. He kissed you once more and nibbled your lower lips the moment his fingers reached your core, spreading your lips apart and finding your needy clit, already so hard and wet, just for him to enjoy. He wasn't going to tease you, you both didn't have time for it, so instead, he played with your wetness, before shoving his fingers inside of you, stretching you up the way you both knew and enjoyed it, he thumbed with your clit before focusing all his ministrations into your tight cunt, feeling your muscles squeezing and clenching around him. He'd kill to have his cock inside of you instead of his fingers, but that would have to wait. He felt your teeth on his shoulder, while your pussy gushed at the same time you came for him. He felt your body going limp, sustaining your weight with his free hand

“Taste yourself, princess” he whispered against your ear and held his fingers up, waiting for you to wrap your devilish lips around them and lick them clean. Joel felt the urge to take you right there and then, but he was a patient man and knew things would have to wait. He kissed your lips goodbye and exited the fitting room after making sure no one was around to see him.

The sales clerk was a little confused when she saw Joel walking towards the register with a blood red pair of lacey lingerie, she couldn't remember seeing him walk into the store and let alone hang around, but the work policy forced her to smile at him and be helpful, especially when he got his wallet out and extended his credit card.

“I'd like you to gift wrap this and give it to the beautiful lady who's trying sports bra in the fitting room, tell her it's my treat” he winked at the woman, aware he could use his charms in his own favor. She agreed to his request and he left the store just like any other ordinary customer, at the same time you received the package as a present the moment you tried paying for your stuff.

•••

After waiting what it seemed like forever, the Harry Styles concert was about to happen, which caused Joel to have a break from his brother, his girlfriend Maria and Sarah, who insisted they all spend hours waiting in line. His heart was full of joy and pride to see how happy his precious daughter was, the way she could barely sleep at night and that guy was the only thing she ever talked about. It was amusing to him, even if he ran out of patience from time to time, it was amazing to see his little girl looking like a beautiful young woman in her new outfit bursting with happiness. Joel couldn't also complain about the fact he managed to enjoy a full day by himself and get ready to receive you through the night. He'd gone grocery shopping, buying all the kinds of treats he knew you loved - or used to, as people could often change their personal taste over the years, but instead of seeing that with sadness, he felt glad to be able to learn something new about the woman he was madly in love with. He was going to go for some beer, but Joel thought again and decided to pick some wine, he just thought you were more of a wine kind of woman, more elegant than just cheap beer.

What you both hadn't counted on, was how hot the weather was, even if the sun had set down, it was still uncomfortable to remain inside, which made Joel suggest you both should move your date night to the swimming pool. At first you thought he was joking, but the stern look on his face told you he was being completely serious, and you thought it was a nice change. The way Joel took the bottle of wine, the glasses and simply began undressing without a word made you puzzled, until he turned around and told you to take off your clothes as well.

One skinny-dipping adventure and a quicky in his pool later, you both took sips of your wine, as you pressed yourself against him; Joel's arms were tight around your body as you rested your head on his chest, kissing it gently, and listening to his heartbeats, it was scary how out of the sudden, his arms became your favorite place in the world. You were far too deep into this story, and there was no way out without getting hurt, but that wasn't the time to think of that, you didn't want to have those kinds of thoughts, you wanted to spend your time with Joel and get lost into him, just as he was into you.

“Sarah told me you have a girlfriend” you blurted out, making Joel raise his eyebrow at you and looking down at you

“What?!”

“Well, she said you seemed happier lately, always texting someone, sneaking out here and there…” you chuckled “I wonder who that bitch is” Joel laughed at your comment, his hand sliding down your back and resting on your ass, squeezing it and then pecking your lips.

“She ain't no bitch, I can assure you that much” he said gently and nuzzled your neck “she's gorgeous, she's the best thing that's ever happened to me, well, after Sarah, of course, but still, and she was so kind to forgive me after everything I've done” his lips were back on your cheek and then on your lips “and I love her very much”

For a moment your whole world stopped. Joel loved you. He admitted it out loud, it wasn't just a matter of simple assumptions, but rather a concrete, explicit feeling. You opened your mouth looking at him hesitantly, what exactly should you say? What could you tell Joel? Did you love him back? If so, were you ready to admit it and face the consequences of getting back together with the man who caused the biggest emotional trauma of your life. Joel took his hands off your body and looked at you with a hint of disappointment, even if he didn't want to admit it, he was disappointed, he thought you shared the same feeling as he did, so he sighed and nodded.

“It's fine, you don't have to say it back…” he cleared his throat and swam to the ladder of the pool “it's getting a little chilly, I think we should get inside”

•••

A few days later, your conversation with Joel simply wouldn't leave your mind; you were in love with him, it was impossible for anyone not to notice, him included, and yet, you didn't understand why it was so hard for you to simply admit it. Perhaps, if you did it, then it would become real, and your relationship with him would stop being a fun, little secret shared by the two of you, but rather a concrete relationship between two adults, where you'd eventually have to come clean and open up to family, friends, you would celebrate birthdays and holidays, anniversaries and face several, typical questions coming from all sides, wondering if you would both remarry or have kids. It was overwhelming, but not as bad as how you were feeling at that moment. You felt guilty and embarrassed, and the paranoid side of you was convinced Joel had been avoiding you for the past week, whereas Sarah was at your place nearly everyday, still talking about Harry Styles and showing you countless pictures of the concert, he wouldn't text much nor insist to see you, even when you suggested him to sneak out late at night and go to yours, he politely declined by saying Tommy and him got a new big client and work was rushed and soul crushing. Of course he could be telling you the truth, he did sound exhausted on the phone and Sarah had mentioned Joel and Tommy had been arriving late most days, both of them covered in sweat and in such a bad mood due to the unbelievable amount of work they were having. Yet, what should make you feel calm and at ease, didn't help one bit, it was uncomfortable and depressing not having Joel around, you missed him, his touch, his body but mostly his presence. He'd been a constant in your life for the past months, and it was only taking a week for you to feel abandoned. It wasn't fair to you, and yet, it wasn't fair to him either, not when he declared his love for you and you couldn't even say it back. You placed your living room, not sure whether you should drive to his home or not, in fact, you knew you shouldn't, but you wanted to, because that particular day, not even Sarah showed up, and it made you sad. You were so attached to the little family destiny set apart for you, simply a day or two away from them was enough to cause a large wound in your heart. You looked around, looking for an excuse to show up at the Miller's household; until your eyes widened and you grinned to see Sarah's history book lying around your coffee table. It was the perfect excuse to go and see them! Perhaps you could even end up having dinner with them, and then make up an excuse about a flat tire or whatever, have Joel giving you a ride home and end up being railed by him in the back of his truck. The longing for Joel was increasing and all you wanted was to make things right by explaining him you did have feelings for him and you needed some time, but you were willing to make sacrifices in order to be with him, because you wanted to and it was important for you that he saw how appreciated he was by you.

On your way to Joel's, you stopped at a bakery you knew Sarah loved, thinking of all the delicious treats you could take so you'd keep your family spoiled, at least a little. You smiled at yourself the moment you chose a couple of cupcakes, cookies and the chicken pie Joel loved, thinking of how you were already addressing them as your family. The truth is that they were indeed your family, the connection you three had was strong, the bond you created with Sarah without even knowing for a fact who she was and later on all that passion for Joel surfacing after spending a decade buried deep inside of you. It was a waste of time fighting that, and you wanted to get to them as soon as possible, you'd been alone far too long, it was about time to yourself have one good thing, to break free and admit how happy you were next to the Millers. You loved them just as they loved you, and it made no sense to fight that feeling and pretend it didn't exist.

The ride wasn't long, there was hardly any traffic in the suburbs, most families were already inside, having dinner together as the sun had set and the street lights were all lit up, as you parked your car, you saw Joel's truck in the driveway and felt your chest tightening in anxiety and fear; if he was already home why didn't he call or text you? Maybe he was indeed avoiding you?! Joel wouldn't make the same mistake twice and push you away, would he? You shook your head, you had faith in him, faith you both had matured and were able to handle things by talking and being honest with each other; you licked your lips and sighed, knowing that whatever was going on could be solved by the two of you as two functional adults, besides, there were a bunch of explanations to why he hadn't talked to you that day yet, you shouldn't jump to conclusions and let your paranoia win once more. You got out of the car with the bag full of treats and walked to the front door, you knocked a couple of times and waited for an answer but nobody came. It was odd, as you could hear Joel's and Sarah's voices coming from inside, and even if you couldn't tell what they were saying your heart raced, your gut feeling telling you something was up and you couldn't wait any longer, silently opening the door and getting inside. You placed the bag of food down the coffee table as you could clearly hear what they were saying. It seemed Joel and Sarah were arguing, which was extremely odd, since you had never seen them have any kind of disagreement, they just had a real nice and healthy father and daughter relationship in which they both listened to each other and acted with respect. As you approached, you heard Sarah's cries and you were taken by worry, perhaps someone had died? You couldn't wait any longer, you rushed and got into the kitchen, confused at first at what had happened between them, Joel looked so overwhelmed, his face was red and he desperately tried to make a point while telling Sarah a bunch of information she could barely cope with, as she cried in disappointment and shook her head, not believing anything her dad was saying. Her heart was shattered with disappointment and sadness, she couldn't believe her dad, her hero, the man she loved and admired the most in her life had done such a thing.

On the kitchen table, a photograph taken on your wedding day was lying around. A younger version of yourself hugged a much younger Joel as you both stood in front of the courthouse, smiling widely at the camera. There was no way to deny it nor hide it. Sarah had found out about your previous connection god knows how and Joel seemed desperate as he wanted to explain himself to his daughter, he couldn't bear having her so disappointed in him like that, it shattered his heart into a million pieces.

“Sarah…” you whispered and tried touching her cheek, wanting to caress it gently and assure her everything was fine now, that what had happened was in the past and that her dad was still the best father a girl could ever wish for. But Sarah moved her face away from your touch, her eyes were glistening with tears as she seemed so heartbroken

“You both lied to me! Why did you lie?” She asked and you looked at Joel wanting to have some kind of support in order to reply to her question.

“Sarah, we are both sorry, but your dad and I have made up after what happened, I know it's a lot to take now but don't be upset please” you asked her, Joel nodded and wrapped his arm around your waist in order to show her things were fine between the two of you. He promised to talk to her and explain everything to her in detail, but she was just so upset, feeling betrayed by the person she admired and loved the most in the whole world. You knew there was nothing you both could do at that moment, not with Sarah being so nervous and upset, instead, you asked Joel to call Tommy and suggested that he took her out for ice cream or something, maybe have a little chat with his niece while you and Joel could sit down and figure the best way to tell her everything. It didn't take more than twenty minutes for his younger brother to arrive, Sarah had drunk some water and washed her face, leaving with Tommy as you sat next to Joel. You took his hand and caressed it, while he refused to look you in the eye, the guilt and shame once more eating him alive, and now it had become even worse, as his precious little Sarah had found out the truth about him in the worst way possible. All she needed was an old picture for her school project and going through Joel's old memory box should be enough, and then she came across the pictures of his wedding day. Not to her mom, but to you instead, and then it all made sense: why you were never willing to be around her dad, or how you decided to keep yourself away from any kind of relationship. Because the asshole you told her you'd married once, was simply her father. The good old Joel Miller, the man who had to raise his baby daughter on his own after she left him, and then, Sarah had found out her dad had been really bad to someone so dearly to her. You, you could've been married to her dad, you could've been her mom, she could've had a family all along.

You looked at Joel and wiped a single tear that rolled down his cheek, even if he tried to hide it.

“What are we doing now, Joel?”

“I don't know…”

____

A/N: what a ride, right besties? Remember, feedback is life ❤️

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal one shot #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller one shot #joel miller story #pedro pascal story

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snowsonlylove · 2 months

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hii!! i commented about making a fic of coryo w or about the song haunted by beyonce, i was thinking maybe something smut if ur comfortable! if not its okay but the fic could be academy!coriolanus x academy!reader and theyre school rivals both working hard to beat each other and theyre obsessed with each other but they hide it with the fact they wanna win but they j wanna fuck (or get together) maybe theyre both possessive and jealous or coryo is the one thats really extra with it,, the story could go rlly slow too and then theres just a part where the facade and tension goes away and theyre needing each other so badly at that moment rushing everything, just like how the song goes idk if i made any sense :o im so excited to see the result!! this song just gives me coriolanus vibes

You Must Be Haunting Me..

a/n note: hii!! yes, i loved your idea and i mostly stayed with your vision, only changing some minor things so the situation makes sense and dw i managed to deliver 🫡 hopefully you like it!! tysm for your idea and i look forward to seeing if there are some things you want to expand on (maybe with little blurbs on this dynamic bc i absolutely LOVE this trope!) & i'm totally comfortable with smut so dw about sending me kinky asks or requests. i totally accept them!!

Pairing: Academy!Coriolanus Snow x AcademyRival!Reader

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N and Coriolanus Snow have been academic rivals ever since the beginning of their journey in the Academy. It’s no secret that both Y/N and Coriolanus are the two top students of the Academy, both of them only being able to beat each other, the rest are just no competition for them. However, they genuinely have no idea why they're doing this constant battle against each other. Little did they know, both of them always think about each other behind closed doors and are obsessed with each other, each equally impressed at the other at how intelligent they are. One day, things just boil over with how Coriolanus constantly riles Y/N up and they explode in a huge fight which results in a turmoil of deep, rough and passionate sex.

Fic Type: Smut (NSFW) 18+, Enemies to Lovers trope, dramatic behaviour from both of them, a wee bit of angst (mostly derived from the name-calling but in my head this is more funny than it is angsty 😭😭😭)

Warnings: unprotected sex (don’t do this guys, use a condom. reader is on birth control), rough pushing, harsh words used from both Y/N and Coriolanus, degradation (use of whore), cunnilingus (female receiving), squirting, lmk if i missed anything else

Word Count: 2k

I do not own Coriolanus Snow or Y/N Y/L/N (cuz it’s you, boo). All credits go to Suzanne Collins and her team. Song credits also go to Beyonce and her team.

I do not allow my works to be republished or translated under any circumstances. Any instances of this happening and YOU WILL BE BLOCKEDDD.

Also, ageless and empty blogs will be BLOCKED as this is a 18+ fic. Report my fics and you’re blocked cuz if u don’t like it, LEAVEEEE.

Y/N Y/L/N and Coriolanus Snow began this disastrous journey from the age of 11-12. Both students entered the Academy with an air of poise and elitism about them as they knew what it took to defeat the competition in the Academy, most students not even being a possible candidate to them. It was all fine and well, until one year, Y/N and Coriolanus were put in the same class for the year, and the rivalry then started..

The first assignment of that year was an individual project on what each student thought the Capitol looked like during its earliest times. Each student was tasked with coming up with a drawing with their thoughts on said topic. This was their chance to go up against each other. Both Y/N and Coriolanus would stay up in the library after school and collect piles of books and do their research and by the time the task was due, Y/N and Coriolanus obviously submitted the best sketches.

After acknowledging this, the professor asked the class to vote for who’s sketch was the best. Small pieces of paper were given out to write either Y/N’s and Coriolanus’s names and as the professor then collected the papers, making both students anxious. As the professor counted the votes, Y/N’s heart was beating out of her chest, Coriolanus’s as well. It was then announced that Y/N won, which made Coriolanus furious as he spewed a full speech on how much he hated her. “You’d never be as good as what they say you are. You’re just dirt under my feet. God! You’re such a bitch!” He screamed as the professor and the class started at him in astonishment as they’ve never seen him lash out before.

Y/N was heartbroken when she heard this as sometimes when Coriolanus wasn’t looking, Y/N would sneak glances towards him and she started to be enamoured by him. Their time together after hours in the library would usually end up in them having conversations about their day and this time together helped them bond better. With this in mind, Y/N truly thought Coriolanus was at least civil enough to be respectful towards her. Y/N felt tears well up in her eyes as she ran out of the classroom, the professor telling her to wait.

Coriolanus, still blind with rage, kept on screaming and yelling obscenities about Y/N as he stormed off to his seat, his face red and his whole demeanour fueling with rage. Unfortunately, this fateful day was what started the vicious rivalry between Y/N and Coriolanus as the two would fight over who got the better grades, which teacher favoured which student more, the differences in their scores in each assignment every single day.

As of current, both Y/N and Coriolanus are 18 and in the midst of graduating. One of their last assignments was unfortunately a pair assignment. Dr Gaul once scoped out the Academy and witnessed one of the fights between Y/N and Coriolanus and she noticed how by getting them near each other, she could make them into the power couple of Panem and have them continue the Hunger Games, which inspired her to whisper in the ear of Dean Highbottom to get them to be in the same class and for them to share a table together until they graduated. Both Y/N and Coriolanus were very unhappy about this, both choosing to ignore each other while they were in their seats.

With both of them getting older, both Y/N and Coriolanus started noticing certain things about them. Coriolanus noticed how Y/N’s facial features were more prominent, how her ass got bigger, her breasts more plump, making him unable to control a certain urge at times which led him to mastrubate thinking about her sometimes. Y/N also noticed a few things about Coriolanus. How he started to grow muscles, how they cling to his academy uniform whenever he took off his academy jacket, how his jaw was sharper, how his nose was becoming more emphasised, how he lost his baby fat. She can honestly go forever and forever about how attractive he is.

That being said, there was one particular day where everything just blew over the water. Y/N and Coriolanus were taking notes during Dean Highbottom’s lecture when Y/N felt Coriolanus’s elbow dig into her arms whenever they got to writing. This obviously made Y/N frustrated as she harshly whispered to Coriolanus to stop a few times, which led to a hushed debate between the two before it grew louder and louder until they were screaming at each other, making the whole class look at them and Dean Highbottom staring at them in shock before yelling for them to stop and stay after class for detention.

Both Y/N and Coriolanus felt embarrassed as they were lectured by Dean Highbottom after class before an assistant of Dean Highbottom requested him to join Dr Gaul for a meeting about the Hunger Games. Dean Highbottom sighed as he looked at the two young teenagers, “Look.. I feel that you two are now old enough to know what is acceptable behaviour in class. I’ll be back soon, do not kill each other while I’m gone.” As Highbottom left the classroom, the tense atmosphere began to build as the door closed behind him.

Almost immediately after he left, Y/N and Coriolanus stared at each other with the most hateful expression ever. Y/N menacingly glared at him while saying with gritted teeth, “See, Coriolanus! If you’re long ass elbow didn’t fucking dig in my arm every single time, that old fart wouldn’t lecture us for one fucking hour! My god, you’re truly dumb!” Coriolanus glared at her before stating, “It’s not my fucking fault that happened with you were taking over the whole goddamn table with your arms everywhere! Geez, Y/N! I thought you’d be more modest!”

Y/N looked at him, shocked, “ME?!! You’re blaming ME for something YOU did! That is so fucking misogynistic coming from you, a man! I swear to god, this is discrimination towards women at its core! Grow the fuck up, Coriolanus! We’re not children anymore! God! I’d be spending my time with Sejanus right now if it weren’t for your stubborn ass!” Y/N huffed while rolling her eyes. Coriolanus stared at her, his face full of jealousy before gritting out, “Sejanus? What the fuck are you doing with Sejanus?! You’re such a fucking whore! Ugh, you’re such a bitch!” Y/N looked at him, offended, “Bitch, weren’t you just fucking Clemensia a few weeks ago? Yeah, I heard about that! Everyone was practically talking about it! Don’t pretend to be so innocent, Coriolanus!”

Coriolanus looked at her, his expression turned dark as he stalked towards her, her taking a step back until her back had hit the wall. Coriolanus leaned towards her, lifting one of his arms to go above her, bringing the other hand towards her chin and lifting it. At this point, the height difference became very apparent as her head was tipped far back, her still glaring at him. “Are you baiting me, Y/N? You talk so much for someone who just fucked Felix Ravinstill of all people a few days ago..” Y/N continued to glare up at him, “At least I had the decency to keep it in my pants longer than you! God, I hate you!” Coriolanus looked taken aback as he muttered while leaning in to cup her cheeks, her face wiggling to be let out of his grip, “Well, I hate you too, sweetheart…”

Coriolanus leaned in as he captured Y/N’s lips with his, their mouths fighting for dominance as they kissed each other as if they needed each other to breathe. The previous tension broke into a more sensual type of tension as Coriolanus wrapped his hands around her hair ravenously while Y/N’s hand made friends with the back of his neck. One of Coriolanus’s hands found its way to Y/N’s waist as he dragged her away from the wall, pushing her towards a nearby desk before propping her up on the desk and spreading her legs, allowing him to be closer to her, not once breaking their kiss. Y/N broke their kiss as she moved her lips to Coriolanus’s neck and trailed them down his Adam’s apple while taking off his blazer and unbuttoning his shirt, Coriolanus doing the same to her.

As they undressed each other, they continued to slide their tongues against each other, the sound echoing around the classroom. They managed to undress each other down to them both only wearing underwear before Coriolanus kneeled down so that he was face to face with the apex of her thighs. Coriolanus leaned in and captured his teeth to her underwear as he slowly pulled it down, revealing her aching, dripping pussy. Coriolanus licked his lips as he roughly shoved two fingers in her cavern as he curled his fingers in and out her folds, creating a beautiful sensation as he found her G-spot with no difficulty.

Y/N moaned as she threw her head back and slid her hands down to Coriolanus’s hair and tugged on it while pulling him closer to her heat. “Oh my gosh.. Coryo, it feels so good…” As he kept pumping his fingers in and out of her, he suddenly attached his lips onto her clit as he sucked on her clit and pumped his fingers harder, each movement feeling more and more intense for Y/N. He kept on going as he curled his fingers one final time, which made Y/N yell out as she squirted and covered his fingers with her wetness.

Y/N sighed in satisfaction as she helped Coriolanus up and gave him a deep, passionate kiss while tugging down his underwear and hooking her legs on the bottom of his back, Coriolanus leaned in closer as he aligned his erection with her heat, tapping his dick on her clit a few times before pushing his hardness in her heat. He only pushed in half of it when Y/N suddenly exclaimed, “Coryo, it’s too much! I can’t take all of it!”

Coriolanus leaned down so his forehead was laying against hers before whispering in a comforting tone, “It will fit, Y/N. Trust me, trust me..” He closed his eyes as he leaned in to capture her lips with his as he pushed in slower this time, now being able to fill her pussy with his cock to the point where their hips were against each other. Coriolanus groaned as he slowly pulled out before thrusting in again, “Fuck, Y/N… You’re so good. Such a good girl..”

Y/N moaned at hearing him praise her as he started to thrust his dick in faster, each time harder and rougher than the last. The room started to echo with the sound of her moaning, his groaning and the sound of skin slapping. Y/N closed her eyes as she moaned, her mouth forming an “O” shape as she threw her head back once more and arched her back, needing to feel closer to him. Coriolanus wrapped his arms around her waist as he pulled her in closer and kissed his way all around her neck, leaving furious red hickeys which would soon turn purple.

The pace in which he was fucking her got rougher each time he would thrust his aching hard dick into her dripping pussy, the slapping sound really turning them on and his balls slapped to her ass, their moans becoming louder and louder each time. The furious force in which he was fucking her started to reach a boiling point as Coriolanus moaned, “Ugh.. I’m fucking cumming, Y/N. Oh.. You’re such a good girl. Such a tight and wet pussy..”

“Ohh.. Coriolanus… So good, so deep… I’m gonna come, gonna come.. OH MY GODD!!” Y/N screamed as she came. Coriolanus groaned as he came inside her, sighing as he tried to bask in the afterglow of his orgasm, holding Y/N tight against his chest in the process. Y/N left kisses and hickeys around his neck as she looked up at him with a dazed but satisfied expression and kissed his lips however, this time the kiss shared between them wasn’t one full of hate, it was one full of love.

As they pulled away from each other and started to get dressed, Coriolanus faced Y/N and said, “You know, if you wanted to fuck me, you could’ve said so.” He said with a smirk. Y/N turned to look at him, acting shocked as she huffed in feign frustration, “Oh shut up, Coriolanus!” She smacked his chest as both of them gave each other a silly grin before hurling in laughter.

#academy!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #tbosas fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #snow x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow angst

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entitled-fangirl · 2 months

Text

Two idiots in love. (P4)

Joel Miller x anemic!reader

Summary: Joel and the reader continue to navigate their feelings for each other, but it starts to become more and more clear as time progresses.

Warning: blood, guns, death, cursing

Masterlist

Parts 1, 2, 3, 5

..................................................................

Ellie walked out of the building to join Joel and Y/N.

Joel was knelt down by a car, his hands prying at the gas cap. Y/N was leaning against said car, and the two seemed to be arguing.

"Joel, please. I can help you sometimes…"

"No. You don't need to be doing any of this stuff. Bad for you."

Siphoning another car.

Ellie sighed as she neared, "We have to do this every hour?"

The two peaked their heads up at her.

Joel calmly explained, "Gas breaks down over time. This stuff's almost water. Back in the day, we'd drive, 10, 12 hours on one tank. You could go anywhere."

She nodded, "So where'd you go?"

Joel looked up at her again, finally rigging up the tubing. "Pretty much nowhere." And he brought the tube to his mouth.

He blew into one tube, making gas come out of the other and into their small fuel tank.

Ellie smiled, "Nice! How does that work?"

He tilted his head back and forth, "It's a siphon."

Ellie looked confused, and Joel realized he needed to dumb it down a bit.

Y/N smiled as well. Joel was such a patient man.

"It's when liquid travels against gravity," he looked a bit confused, "…because pressure…"

"You don't know."

Joel became defensive, "I know it works."

Ellie turned away, walking towards another car.

Joel reprimanded, "No wandering."

The girl sighed, "Okay." And set on the hood of the closest car. "This is your fault then."

Y/N laughed as Ellie pulled her joke book out of her bag, watching Joel become more annoyed at each joke.

…

"Alright. I think that's enough for today."

Joel turned the truck off the road and into the forest.

Y/N got out carefully, and moved to the bed of the truck to get the small camping grill Bill had left them.

Joel stopped her, "I'll get it, sweetheart."

He set it on the ground where they would make their camp.

She smiled, "Well, you get us unpacked, and I'll make dinner?"

He considered her proposal, "Alright."

…

The two adults watched Ellie eat her food with an animalistic speed.

"Slow down," Joel reprimanded.

"This IS slow."

Y/N smiled with a small chuckle.

Ellie finally slowed down, "What am I even eating?"

Y/N finally spoke up, "That is 20 year old Chef Boyardee ravioli."

"Well, that guy was GOOD."

Joel grimaced, "I actually agree."

The silence ensued until Ellie spoke up, "Can we start a fire though? I'm freezing."

"Now, why am I gonna tell you no?"

"Because infected will see the smoke…"

Y/N spoke up again, her plate untouched, "…no. That's not it at all…"

Joel nodded, "Fungus isn't that smart. This is too remote for Infected anyway."

Ellie gulped slightly, "…People?"

Joel just gave a look, but it was enough to tell her she was right.

"So, what are they gonna do? Rob us?" Ellie scoffed.

Joel stared down at his food, "No. They'll have way more in mind than that." He glanced over, seeing Y/N's untouched plate, "Eat."

She sighed slightly, "I… I'm not that hungry."

He straightened his shoulders, his voice becoming demanding, "Eat, Y/N."

She shook her head. She didn't mean to be defiant, but she couldn't bare to eat food at the moment.

Joel set his plate down. She knew his tone well. He was angry, but trying to mask it for her. "Sweet girl…"

But she stopped before he could continue, "Joel, really. Please don't push it."

He stared at her for a while before nodding, going back to his food.

…

Joel and Y/N woke up early, under the same covers as they always did. Joel began to pack up as Y/N offered to start a small pot of coffee.

Joel took the offer, running a hand over Y/N's messy hair. He took note of her puffy eyes from sleep and the sweet smile that she wore.

He wished he could hold that picture forever.

They began their duties, as made quiet small talk to avoid waking Ellie. "Joel..?"

Joel turned to look at Y/N over his shoulder, "..Yeah?"

"Somedays I wish I had your accent…"

Joel actually smirked at the woman. God, she was a treasure. "My accent?"

"Yeah. You have this accent. I don't know. I like it, I guess."

He nodded, unsure of what to say.

So, she continued, "I think I just like your voice. It's… soothing. I don't think the accent would sound as nice with me."

Joel just let her talk. She hadn't spoken this much since Bill and Frank's.

"…I wish I could've met you before all of this…"

This made the man stop packing. "…what?"

"I.. well… you know? What you were like and… what you did, what you wore, how you talked. What you were like with your daughter…."

Joel was unmoving. He was thankful his back was to her, or she would've seen the expression on his face.

"…Can't I be a little curious?"

He sighed. Of course, she could be. He would tell her anything in the world her heart desired if she asked.

Finally, he spoke. It was slow and calculated, "You can be."

"Do you think we would've been friends? Our old selves?"

This woman would be Joel's end. And he would love her for it.

He finally turned to look at her. She sat on the ground next to the pot of coffee. Her big eyes staring back up at his in concern for his answer.

He sat in the silence for a moment as he thought of what to say. He settled on, "…you wouldn't have liked me." And he moved back to the truck to pack.

She tilted her head, "You don't know that."

He spoke over his shoulder, "I do. And I don't even know why you're around me now, if I'm being honest."

She misinterpreted him, her eyes saddening, "Well… do… Do you not want me here?"

Joel immediately turned around with wide eyes and slight panic. His voice hardened, "That's not what I said. And don't say that ever again."

She was thrown off by his sudden defense. It confused her, "…but you said.."

"You're not leaving. I won't let that happen."

A nod and a confused look was all Joel got from the woman in front of him.

She stood up, walking her bag to the truck. She stood next to Joel, and placed the bag in the bed.

They said nothing. They weren't sure if there was anything to say.

Joel finally sighed, turning to her. He reached up with one hand, placing it on the bag of her head, letting his fingers play with the strands of hair, "Listen, sweet girl. I only meant-"

"What the fuck is that?"

Ellie interrupted the two.

Joel sighed as he dropped his hand and looked over to Ellie, "You don't like coffee?"

Y/N sighed at the lost moment, her shoulders slumping.

…

Ellie woke up in the backseat as Y/N muttered road names under her breath to Joel as she stared at a road map. Joel would only nod or hum lightly at the names.

Ellie thought it was strange, their little secret language to each other.

But she only opened her eyes when she felt the truck stop.

They were at the outskirts of an abandoned city.

And the underpass needed to keep driving was blocked by a semi truck that had crashed.

"Stay put." Joel muttered as he got out with his gun to investigate.

Ellie took this time to get caught up. "Where are we?"

Y/N looked over her shoulder, "Kansas City."

Ellie nodded, "So, you and Joel are..?"

Y/N sighed, "You heard us this morning?"

"Yeah. I think he likes you a lot."

The woman leaned back in her seat. "Doesn't matter, Ellie. You shouldn't get too attached to people. They always die."

"But Joel-"

"-I said, it doesn't matter." Her voice grew pleading, "Don't get too attached to us, Ellie."

The girl knew she didn't really mean that.

Joel got back into the truck, his hand reaching out for the map in Y/N's hands.

Ellie noticed the way their fingers grazed each others. "So how far back do we have to go?"

Joel stared at the map, tracing potential roads until he sighed. He gently set the map down in Y/n's lap. "Screw it."

He turned the truck around, driving through the city to get back on the highway.

But half way through, he cursed under his breath, "Where the fuck is the highway?"

Y/N hummed, "I'm turned around now. Just… give me a second."

Joel spoke up, "Don't look at the state map, hon. Look at the inset."

"Either way, I'll still be confused."

She spoke under her breath, trying to figure it out.

Joel turned, "It's gotta be the right…"

"STOP!"

Joel hit the brakes at Ellie's plea.

A man was in front of the truck, holding his side, "Please! Help me!"

Y/N's head perked up at the cry, "Joel…?"

"Put your damn seatbelt on."

Ellie stared at the man, "Aren't we gonna help him?"

"No."

And Joel hit the gas, making the man jump out of the way.

Y/N noticed the person on the roof of the next building, their feet kicking at a barrel.

And it fell towards the truck.

"JOEL!"

Joel tried to swerve, but couldn't avoid it.

It hit the windshield.

It made Joel blind to the row of nails that now pierced the tires.

The truck swerved, crashing into a building harshly.

Joel immediately reached out for Y/N, his hand on the back of her head like earlier, but in a more panicked state, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"You're not hurt or nothin?"

"… I don't know…"

When Joel pulled his hand away from her head, it came back slightly red with blood.

"Shit."

Y/N noticed the blood too, looking at Joel with a worried expression.

He wanted to comfort her, but the bullets that pierced the truck reminded him of the situation.

"Belts off. Get out."

Ellie and Y/N got out on the passenger side, blocking themselves from the bullets.

Joel followed suit.

He reached into the backseat through the window, grabbing his gun.

He turned to the girls, "You see that hole over there?"

They looked over to the hole in the wall.

"Can you squeeze through?"

Y/N only stared.

"When I say go, you crawl to that wall, and you squeeze through and you don't come out until I say, okay?"

A bullet broke one of the windows.

"And they're not gonna hit you."

Joel noticed Y/N's wandering gaze. He wanted to be soft, but he was too panicked to go so. "LOOK AT ME!"

She did.

"They're not gonna hit you. Take Ellie with you."

She stopped, "but I can't leave you."

He took her jaw in one hand, "You sweet, sweet girl. I'm gonna be fine. Let me worry about you. Stay down, stay low, and you stay quiet."

She knew not to argue.

"Alright. Go."

And with that, the two girls crawled to the hole in the wall with determination. Joel peaked over the top of the truck bed to shoot back.

He made sure the two got through.

He shot one easily, but another man was still out there. And judging by his taunts, he was enraged.

Silence.

Ellie and Y/N only stared at each other with wide eyes. Unsure of Joel's safety.

A gunshot.

Y/N couldn't help it. She just barely peeked out from the hole to check.

Joel stood tall, the end of his gun smoking just slightly.

He reached down to reload.

And it was jammed.

The door opened and a young man stepped out, ready to fight.

Joel was too.

Y/n heard the sound of rustling and the occasional grunt from a hit.

She wasn't sure who was winning.

But she was going to make sure it was Joel.

She stepped out while the man had his back to her.

Joel noticed and his eyes widened.

When the man saw Joel's gaze, he followed it. To which Y/N threw a heavy punch to the man's face.

The man was thrown off but not for long enough.

He reached forward, grabbing Y/N by her hair and pulling her to him.

Joel took that as an advantage and wrapped his hand around the man's neck, the other over his head, ready to snap his neck. He growled in the man's ear, "Don't fucking touch her."

Though the man was the only one with the gun, he was at the disadvantage.

Y/N stared into the man's eyes, trying to read his thoughts.

Finally, he muttered, "You're gonna fucking pay, old man."

This angered Joel. He didn't want to just kill the man. He wanted him to pay.

So, he threw the man backwards into the floor, continuing the fight.

Y/N fell to the ground herself, cradling her head in pain. She was already losing blood from earlier, and she was beginning to see stars.

So, when Joel was on the ground, being choked by the man, Y/N was of no help.

Ellie stepped out, shooting the man in the leg.

It gave Joel a moment to collect himself and his breath. His eyes immediately flickered between Ellie and Y/N.

The man backed up to the door on the ground.

He was just a boy.

And he began to plead, "NO, no, no it's okay. It's okay. It's over. We're not fighting anymore."

Y/N pushed herself up onto her knees. Her face contorted in pain.

She couldn't help but feel bad.

Especially when he continued, "I'm gonna go home. I'll tell everyone you're good. I… I don't know what to do. My legs don't work."

He started to weep. "My mom isn't far, if you could get me to her."

Joel started to get up.

"Please. We could trade with you guys. We could be friends. I didn't know. I'm Bryan."

Joel approached Ellie was an angry expression, holding his hand out for the gun in her hand.

She sighed and handed it to him.

And Joel took out a knife, turning back to the boy.

The boy began to plead again, "Wait, wait, wait."

Joel turned to Ellie in rage. His voice was low, "Get back behind the wall."

Ellie just stared.

Finally, Y/N spoke up quietly, "…just go."

When Ellie turned to leave, Bryan began pleading loudly, "I'm sorry! Please, no! I'm sorry!"

Y/N turned to Joel once Ellie hid. A tear fell down her face at the sight. Her voice was almost a whisper, "Joel?"

But he wouldn't listen. "Close your eyes."

Joel was an unmovable force. Merciless and cruel. For everyone that stood in his way.

It scared her slightly, watching his eyes turn murderous.

She had killed before, sure. But never had she looked so… bloodthirsty.

Not like he did.

She closed her eyes, listening to the man's cries for his mother until they were silenced.

She didn't dare open her eyes until she felt Joel's breath on her face.

His eyes scanned her carefully. "You okay?"

"No."

Joel's jaw clenched. "Alright. We'll fix this. Let's get you cleaned up, Darlin."

And just like that, the murderous glare was gone, and Joel had returned.

And this Joel was hers.

............................................................

Author's note: I'm gonna make a tag list for any continuing parts I make. Comment if you want on it and I'll add you!

Part 5

#joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #fanfiction #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #tlou #tlou imagine #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal

274 notes · View notes

daechwitatamic · 2 months

Text

Of Ruin: Chapter 12 || KTH

(banner by @itaeewon)

Of Ruin (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni Genre: vampire!au magic!au royalty!au, s2l, slow burn, eventual smut, angst and fluff

Summary: Taehyung of House Rune, Prince of Infracticus has been cursed. You’re the human world’s leading curse-breaker. It should be simple. But unraveling the curse becomes the least of your problems in the face of a world on the brink of civil war… and the love you start to feel for the prince.

A/N: Thank you endlessly to @sailoryooons for betaing!!! 💕

Section Warnings: language, tense situations with dangerous vampires, violence: vampire biting and feeding!!, lots of blood!!!, kissing wc: 4.8k

You spend the ride back to the palace in silence. You can’t even watch the beautiful landscape roll by, because Taehyung keeps the curtains closed as a precaution.

At the palace, he walks you back to your rooms. He doesn’t kiss you goodbye; you aren’t sure if you expected him to or not. Instead he takes your hand, glances up the hall where a team of guards wait for him, and gives it two quick squeezes before striding away, his footfalls echoing in the stone corridor.

You wait anxiously in the main room until the door opens, Namjoon looking just as relieved to see you as you are to see him.

You wonder if Jimin and the guard who took the main road made it back okay.

You don’t tell Namjoon about this kiss, nor about Taehyung’s comments about wanting you to stay.

You do fill him in on the meeting with the Scores, and Taehyung’s tentative plan for his reign.

“That’s ambitious,” Namjoon admits, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “He’ll have his work cut out for him.”

“He’s determined,” you say, somewhat absently. “I think the Scores might be on board. They’re not immediately objecting, anyway.”

“Would you stay?” Namjoon asks, dark eyes on yours inquisitively. “As, like, a representative for above?”

You shrug, averting your gaze, lest he spy your secrets in your eyes. “If he wanted me,” you say. “Of course, I’d try to help.”

Namjoon hums in response, meaning he doesn’t want to say what he really thinks.

You can’t find it in you to care.

About half the Scores return to court. No more attacks come. Satuel tells you, when you inquire, that that coach had been stopped by riders on the main road, but when they found only Jimin, they made no trouble.

You fall back into your routine. You spend your days reading through the notes Namjoon took at the archives. You spend your nights practicing magic, branching out from defensive spells and beginning to dabble with practical magic, and the odd offensive move.

Over the next week you break your lamp three more times while practicing, and you try to counter Taehyung’s curse - unsuccessfully - just as many.

The first two fizzle out and go nowhere, unceremonious and anticlimactic. The third one goes wrong so immediately that Namjoon physically yanks you away from Taehyung to break the connection, black smoke rising from each of your palms as you break away.

Taehyung heals your burns, the first time he’s touched you since you said goodbye after kissing in the carriage.

You feel stalled out; you feel your wheels spinning.

“Taehyung,” you say heavily, one of the evenings he comes to check your nonexistent progress. “We’re still missing something. Something we thought we had worked out isn’t right. I’m telling you. Something’s messed up.”

“What do you need?” he asks, looking back at you seriously. “More time at the archives? I could take you back -”

“I need to see the curse at work,” you say determinedly. It’s been over a month since you’d last had this argument, since the prince had put his foot down definitively. “I’ve been saying it since the beginning, and it’s still true. I have to.”

“We discussed this already,” he says tightly. “I won’t allow it.”

“Maiesti,” you say desperately. “We’ve run out of other choices. No book will tell me what I need - the curse will. If I can’t crack this, everything else you’re working on will never happen. You can’t do anything you’ve planned until this is solved.”

He stares at you, and it’s plain on his face how much he hates that you’re right.

“I can keep myself safe,” you say. Beside you, Namjoon murmurs your name, apprehensive. “You’ve seen me do it. I’m better now than I was then, I’ve practiced and practiced - I can do it, I can keep you back.”

The prince looks like he wants to vomit. “I can’t,” he croaks. “I can’t allow it.”

“We have to -”

“What if the worst happens?” he snaps, breaking. “What if I kill you? Seriously - that is a serious question! Think about that. I could kill you.”

“I’ll send you through a wall,” you say, half-joking. But you both know you can.

He shakes his head. “It’s too risky.”

“The bigger risk is never breaking the curse,” you say. “Think how much is at stake, now. You can only hold off the Scores for so long before they move back to the offensive. War is on the line, Taehyung, is that what you want for your people? Is my life worth more to you than the good of Infracticus? It shouldn’t be.”

He swears in his people’s ancient language, turning away from you, rubbing his face roughly, as he often does when overwhelmed.

Namjoon takes this opportunity to say your name again, quietly.

“I know what decision I’m making,” you say stonily, to both of them. “I know the risks, I know the dangers. We have to. We’ve come to a point where this is the only solution.”

“Fine,” Taehyung snaps, finally, turning back to you, eyes narrowed and mouth tight. “Fine. Is tonight too soon?”

You blanch. “Tonight?”

He looks at you, pleading. “Please. I can’t go through a whole day knowing it’s coming. The sooner we do this, the less time I’ll spend sick with worry. So - can you? Will you?”

“Yeah,” you say shakily. “Yes. Yes, we can do it tonight.”

“Fine,” he says, and when his voice is cold this time, you know it’s because he’s scared. “Satuel will bring you before midnight.”

He leaves without goodbye, as he used to do.

Namjoon says your name, more insistent this time.

“I know,” you tell him. “Believe me. You trust me, right?”

“I think so,” he says, which makes you laugh.

“It’s going to be fine,” you tell him.

—

The room Prince Taehyung spends his nights in is nicer than you’d envisioned, though not as nice as his actual wing of the palace.

Prince Taehyung sits at a wooden table, legs crossed so that one ankle rests on his knee. He eyes you coldly when the guards let you in the room.

Once, you would have seen his coldness and felt small. You know better now.

“It’s going to be okay,” you tell him, as gently as you can.

He swallows, looks at the floor. Then he rises, walking towards you. He stops before you, raises his gaze to meet yours. His eyes, irises white and human, dance with something too complicated to name.

“How can you be willing to do this?” he asks, something broken in his voice. “How, when you know the risks?”

Something in you breaks too, a dam that has been holding back every foolish, dead-end, illogical feeling you’ve been having these past months: because I love you, you think. Because I love you, and I want to save you.

You don’t say it, don’t say anything, but he’s watching your face carefully, and you think maybe he hears you anyway, somehow. He raises one shaky hand and cups your face, so light it’s barely there.

He kisses you chastely, gently, then shuffles backwards, glancing at the clock on the wall.

“Three minutes,” he says. “Put the wall up now. Do it now.”

“Taehyung,” you say, but you have nothing to follow it. You do as he says, pulsing your palms towards the floor between you, feeling the magic swim through you.

You both watch the clock, together, in silence.

He paces, and you miss the moment he leaves you, leaving only the beast. But you notice his movements grow choppier, and you watch the exact second that he smells you.

His head wheels around, fangs displayed, crackling grumbles beginning to emit from deep in his chest. He stalks towards you, elbows bent up behind him, until he hits your wall. He bounces backwards almost comically, then snarls louder, eyes narrowed at you. They swirl, like pools of ink.

He tries again, slower this time, pressing his hands to the wall he cannot see, investigative. You try to breathe evenly, to ensure the magic holds. His gaze snaps back to you, his mind putting together the pieces and figuring that you are causing the problem.

He snarls at you, jaw snapping, lip curled, cursing your existence in the ancient language of the Infracti, which you aren’t sure he’s even fluent in when he’s himself.

You put your shoulders back and walk closer to the wall you made.

“If you want something,” you tell him firmly, “then you need to ask me in my language.”

The beast freezes in place, eyes locking on you. The curl in his lip relaxes just slightly, and he blinks at you. He cocks his head just slightly and blinks again. It’s like you can see him thinking, cogs in his head turning.

Then, voice raspy and entirely unlike Taehyung’s low, honeyed tones, he grits out, “Drink?”

Your heart pounds.

“Not too much,” you say, still firm, like you’re giving directions to an unruly toddler. “If you take too much, I’ll die, and then you never get more.”

His head cocks to the other side. His brows furrow. “Small?” he asks.

“Very small,” you say. Your legs don’t even feel like jelly beneath you - they feel like nothing, so numb with fear that they could be gone and you wouldn’t know. “From here.”

You hold out your wrist, veins up, and look at him. “You understand?”

“Yes,” he says, licking his lips in anticipation.

“I’m putting the wall down,” you tell him. “Come slowly.”

He waits, and you do. When you nod, he comes forward on that jolting, uneven gait, as if it’s screwing up his whole balance to move at a human pace for your sake.

He takes your arm in his hands, nails biting into your skin as he forgets his inhuman strength, and you grimace.

“Only a little,” you remind him, heart pounding so hard in your ribcage that it’s almost painful.

His swirling, black eyes land on yours as he brings his mouth to your wrist. You feel like you can’t breathe, the anticipation is so strong. A detached part of you knows that he could get one taste and lose this tentative control, that this could be your last moment.

You sort of wish you’d called your parents before coming.

You cry out when his fangs sink into you, instinctively flinching away, but he holds you so tight that you stumble closer to him instead. The pain is bone-deep, not a shallow pinch like a shot - and that’s frightening, your systems telling your brain that there’s danger, that something is wrong. You start to struggle, to try fruitlessly to push him away, alarms going haywire in your mind, and then -

And then the venom hits you.

The pain is eradicated - or, at least, you don’t notice it anymore. Instead, a high comes over you, and you feel like you’re floating away, the room going quite bright as you feel the unfamiliar and startling sensation of blood being pulled towards the wound as Taehyung sucks at it, his tongue running circles over and around the puncture marks.

“Enough,” you manage to say, your voice seeming disembodied to you, coming from nowhere. The beast lifts his mouth and snarls at you, before returning to lap at the rivulets of red that run over your wrist bone.

“You said small,” you remind him, trying to stay grounded. “Let me breathe, let me make sure I’m okay, and then you can have more.”

He utters a sentence at you in his language, hands tightening on your arm to the point they hurt.

“Back off, or I’ll knock you back,” you warn him. His eyes narrow as he processes the threat. It might be empty - you’re not sure you can do it one-handed.

Then, for just a second, his eyes flash human again, the whites showing. It’s him, your Taehyung, and he releases your arm so frantically it’s as if it burns to touch it. He takes two steps back, eyes wide and frightened. You blink, and he’s gone. The beast is back again, that quickly, frustration coming back over his features.

You throw the wall up as quickly as you can.

It doesn’t work.

He’s on you in an instant, so quickly you don’t see him move. Your back hits the wall behind you and you let out an audible grunt. He cages you in, a hand on either shoulder, pressing you into place against the stone, and he uses his tongue to swipe along his fangs, cleaning remnants of your blood from them, as he looks you over. Slowly, he leans his weight on you, his hips pinning your hips, his chest pinning your chest, his hands firm on the fronts of your shoulders.

Your breath comes in and out in shaky waves. You’re not sure you’d still be standing if he weren’t holding you in place. You try not to think about all the places your bodies are touching, the weight of him over you, the stuttering rhythm of your heartbeat, the fiery look that he settles over you. You try not to think about how precarious this is, how easily he could let go of his control and simply tear your throat out in one seamless motion.

He sniffs at you, fangs displayed and ready, as if trying to find the place most palatable. Your heart pounds desperately, and beneath his inhumanly strong hold, you can feel your muscles shaking. Your body knows you are about to die, even if your mind still wants to lie to you about it, to pretend otherwise.

He chooses a spot near the base of your neck, near the front, and laves at the spot with his tongue, giving a happy hum as your pulse thunders visibly over the inch of skin. You close your eyes, feeling your whole body shudder in terror.

“Taehyung,” you whisper, barely able to give volume to the word.

The beast pulls back and looks at you, reacting to the sound of its name. Somewhere in there, he recognizes it. Somewhere in there, he recognizes you; you watch as he draws even further back, then removes one hand from your shoulders and reaches for your uninjured wrist instead.

He lifts your limb to his mouth easily and you flinch before anything even happens.

“Here?” he asks, in that gritty, not-Taehyung voice, and your eyes snap to his.

He’s asking permission.

You are not going to die. Maybe.

“Small,” you utter. Then, since it seemed to work a second ago to use his name, to remind him who he is, “You promised, Taehyung. A small one.”

The puncture hurts - enough that you cry out again, the pain deep and throbbing, the cry morphing into a sob of agony - but the high comes quickly, melting it away. The sensation of blood being pulled to your wrist is less frightening this time, and you breathe deeply, trying to assess how dizzy you are, if you need to tell him to stop yet.

“Enough,” you say, and he licks one last stripe over the wound before taking his mouth away. Blood smears around his lips and down his chin, but his black eyes watch yours, obedient, waiting. His chest heaves as he waits, like it’s hard work.

Maybe it is.

Maybe it is only a sliver of Taehyung’s humanity shining through that is keeping you alive right now.

You both wait, him still pressing you to the wall by one shoulder. You breathe, closing your eyes for a long inhale and then opening them again.

Taehyung’s eyes are human, and he opens his mouth as if to speak. He blinks. They go black again. Whatever comes out of his mouth isn’t human.

He presses closer again, raising the wrist he just bit up to his face and inhaling deeply. He sticks out his tongue and licks over it once more, then continues to trace up your forearm with his tongue, past the crook of your elbow, stopping when he finds the pulsing point of the brachial artery in your fleshy upper arm.

“Here?” he asks again. He shudders, blinks, and your Taehyung looks at you.

This time he manages to speak, all in a rush, before he’s sucked under again. “You should run,” he tells you, breathless, and then only snarls fall from his lips as his eyes flash black again.

You press a hand to the monster’s cheek, blood still rising to clot at the first wound he’d given you. The beast looks at you, waiting, mouth still inches from your bicep, waiting for permission.

“Yes,” you whisper.

This one hurts worse - maybe the bite is deeper. You hear yourself shout and your eyes roll back, your knees giving out beneath you. The beast uses both hands and his hips to hold you up, press you in place, as he sucks and licks at the twin wounds in your arm.

The high comes, but combined with the blood loss it’s no longer pleasant and floaty. Instead, you feel yourself weakening, unable to remind Taehyung to stop, unable to even stand. The room goes fuzzy as he pulls more blood from you, becoming nothing but colors, and your head spins so violently that it makes you want to cry out.

He stops when your head lolls, brow furrowing as if he’s trying to remember why he doesn’t want you gone. He licks at his lips, rising to stand, and picks you up, your jelly-like arms flopping over his shoulders. He carries you easily to the large bed on the other side of the room and places you down gently on your back.

Your head lolls to the side and you work on breathing, work on staying here, not floating away. The beast sits on the bed next to you, cross-legged, and waits, watching your chest rise and fall, watching your eyes go unfocused and then come back again.

After some time, you do settle back into yourself, the high from his venom dissipating and your mind clearing as you rest. You still feel weak, a bit dizzy, but the room comes into focus again.

The beast has been waiting, and he sees it immediately when you’re coherent again. He stretches out his legs and rolls over top of you, holding himself up with his arms. He presses his nose to your most recent wound, the one in your upper arm, and gives it a long sniff, and then one last lick.

Then, he noses his way up your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps, past your shoulder, and up to the junction of your neck. He presses his lips to the spot he wants, licking at it, feeling your pulse thud against his tongue. You feel him shudder, wanting.

“Here?” he asks, leaning up to look at you.

“Last one,” you breathe, unable to sound any more firm than that. You can only pray that he listens, that enough Taehyung is in there to know you mean it. “Last one, or it’ll be too much.”

“Small,” he says, a promise, and lays himself over you, heavy. He sinks his fangs into your neck and your whole body reacts to the white-hot pain, hands coming up to claw fruitlessly at his upper arms, legs scrabbling against the sheets, eyes screwing shut, breaths heaving noisily through your open mouth as you pant through the pain.

He drinks longer here, despite his promise, licking and licking over the spot like one might scrape the bottom of the bowl for any last dregs of soup. You float, incoherent, trying to count your inhales and exhales, trying to measure your heartbeats and ensure they’re not slowing too much.

He doesn’t remove himself from you when he’s done, and it’s honestly kind of nice having his heaviness over your body - you know you can’t actually float away, something is tethering you here. He sniffs and licks and presses his lips against the wound on your neck, but doesn’t drink more, doesn’t suck anything from it.

Then, as your head begins to clear a final time, he noses his way up your jaw, still pressing his open mouth to spot after spot, tongue tasting your skin but not puncturing it. Finally, he finds your mouth, pressing his lips to yours in a searing, lingering kiss that you try your best to return.

When he pulls away to look at you, his eyes are his own, brown and anguished.

“There you are,” you manage, trying to reach up for his face. You can’t get your hand high enough, and your arm flops uselessly back to the mattress. For some reason, this makes tears prick at your eyes. You want to touch him, your Taehyung, want to feel closer to him, protected by him. Instead, you can only look at him as he pants over top of you, clearly exerting himself even as he’s holding himself still.

“Run,” he begs in between pants. You shake your head, flopping from side to side. You don’t want to leave him. Your Taehyung is here, fighting to get through, and you don’t want to leave him.

“Stay with me,” you whisper, and he closes his eyes, still panting. Fighting. Fighting it with everything he has. “Please.”

“I’m - trying -” he lets out between gritted teeth, but when his eyes open again they’ve gone black again.

You wait for him to pick a new place to bite, to ask permission. Instead, he shifts to lay next to you instead of over top of you. He pulls you tight against his chest, one arm over your middle, tangles his legs between yours, and buries his face in the back of your neck, inhaling deeply.

“No more?” you ask, trying to turn your head to look at him over your shoulder. You find it hard to believe that he’s satiated… but that last bite was long, dizzying. Maybe he is.

“You said,” he grumbles, the monster’s gritty voice still coming out somewhat petulant and pouty. “You said last one.” Then, his voice turns hopeful. “Tomorrow? More tomorrow?”

“Okay,” you breathe; it’s an easy promise to make - tomorrow you can talk to normal Taehyung, your Taehyung. Tomorrow at this time, chances are you’ll be safe in your own rooms. It’s a promise you won’t have to keep.

“Yes,” the beast grumbles, wiggling closer to you, but you think it’s a happy grumble. “More tomorrow. Now, sleep.”

The room spins a few times, then settles. You feel him press his lips to your shoulder, then return to the back of your neck. It takes a lot of strength, but eventually you manage to lift your hand high enough to grip his.

With his body firm behind yours, his hand under your hand, his breath against your neck, you let yourself float away.

—

You’re awakened abruptly by hands jerking you around by your arms - lifting you up, rolling you over, turning you this way and that with a frantic energy that you are too sleepy to comprehend.

“Stop,” you whine, squeezing your eyes shut. Somewhere deep in your mind you know it’s Taehyung, and you know he’s freaking out, but you were sleeping so well, and you’re so bone-tired - probably from the blood loss. You just want him to leave you in peace, in the dark room and fluffy bed, to sleep many more hours. “Taehyung, stop it.”

“I bit you,” he utters, horrified. He’s holding you in a sitting-up position, and you work hard to open your eyes to slits so you can see him. His eyes - humanlike, beautiful brown - dance between the puncture marks on your upper arm and the ones on your neck. He curses in Infracti, the word coming out quieter than a whisper. “I hurt you.”

“I’m fine,” you insist, eyes adjusting. “I’m tired, and I’m starving, but I’m fine.”

You scoot away from him a little, laying back against the headboard, too weak to hold yourself up for long. He’d been kneeling as he turned you from side to side, assessing the damage, but as you get more comfortable he climbs off the bed entirely, coming around and sitting on the edge near your torso.

He clearly hasn’t cleaned up this morning - he’s in last night’s rumpled clothes, dried blood caked on his jaw. Despite this, he looks no more dangerous right now than a teddy bear, with huge, worried eyes and a pronounced frown.

“I can’t believe you’re even alive,” he utters, still whispering. “Why did I agree to this? God, you could have died, I could have killed you -” His voice completely breaks, and he brings up a hand to cover his face, ashamed and guilty.

“Taehyung,” you say, reaching up to tug his hand away. He lets you, but looks steadfastly at his feet, his eyes swimming. “Hey - I let you, I told you it was okay. You didn’t do anything without my permission -”

“I know,” he bites out, then swallows hard, his facial muscles quivering as he fights off emotion. “I know, I remember, but it doesn’t matter - it was still dangerous. It’s a miracle you’re alive -”

You stare at him. “What do you mean, you remember?”

He freezes too, coming to the same realization as you.

“I… remember,” he repeats, eyes widening. He turns his body to face you, looking at you wildly, desperate for an explanation. “I remember every bit of it,” he adds, voice breathy with disbelief. “I couldn’t stop myself from doing any of it, but I was there.” His eyes linger on yours, lost and baffled. “How can that be?”

“You broke through,” you say softly, the only explanation to the magic’s inconsistency. “Somehow, you pushed through it - enough to control yourself, and enough to remember.”

“What does that mean?” he asks, deep voice still breathy, shaking a little.

“It means…” you pause, collecting your thoughts. “It means that even when the curse is active, your humanity isn’t gone, it’s just suppressed. It’s there, we can reach it. I’ve had this wrong all along - my countercurse was trying to replace it… but really, I needed to just… unbury it. And…”

“And?” He tilts his head cutely.

“And… well, there’s probably a level of…”

You trail off, embarrassed, unsure. You don’t know how Taehyung feels, but you know magic and countercurses.

“What?” he asks, reaching for your hands, which lay limp over your lap.

You press your lips together, mine for courage. “It seems like you came through once you recognized me. It makes me wonder… I mean, I’d hypothesize… whatever it is you f-feel for me,” you stumble over the words, starting to mumble, “acts as a counter to something built into the curse.”

He blinks at you a few times, his thumbs absently stroking the backs of your hands. Then, as if he’s asking about your breakfast order, he clarifies, “Love? Love counters something in the curse?”

You pull your hands from his, your body reacting defensively - as if it’s sure this is a joke being played on you.

“What?” he asks, oblivious.

“You what?” you manage, heart pounding desperately against your ribs.

He frowns at you, like you’re being purposely obtuse. “I love you,” he repeats, like it’s not a big deal at all, no more weighty than saying I’m wearing black shoes tonight.

“Taehyung,” you whisper, shaking your head. “What are you saying? You can’t love me - I’m nothing, just a human, I’m not -”

“Are you joking?” he asks, and he actually looks angry, suddenly. “Nothing?” He scoots closer, brushes his thumb up your jaw, then leans closer, pressing his forehead to yours and closing his eyes. “You have never been nothing,” he says, voice dangerously low. “Never.”

You want to protest, to object, but then he’s lifting his chin to slot his lips against yours - soft at first, then more insistent - and the words die on your tongue, replaced by a small, happy sigh.

When he pulls away, he shakes his head, eyes closing. “Y/N, if something had gone wrong last night, and it had been my fault, I think I would have lost my mind. Truly. I might be losing my mind anyway just because it almost happened. I’m so sorry you went through this.”

“Nothing almost happened,” you press back. “I knew what I was getting into. I knew what I was agreeing to.”

He shakes his head again, wordless, and reaches for you, long fingers reaching to pull you from your spot against the pillows into his lap instead. You allow it, letting him pull you closer until you’re straddling his legs, his arms wrapped tight around your back, pulling you ever closer.

Safe, you think, as he presses his face to the top of your head, giving you a squeeze.

Lips close enough to your ear that he can speak so quietly it’s barely there, he murmurs, “You must have been terrified.”

“No,” you assert, shaking your head, causing him to pull away and look at you. “Not once I knew it was you.”

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KBYE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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littlestpersimmon · 3 months

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Had this weird story idea about a big dragon with runes all over him, and he's like a paper accordion that could unwind for thousands of miles, and the only way you could defeat him was if you were able to read every single rune on the dragon's papery body, and discern the long riddle of the princess who turned her labyrinthine library into her living armor in the form of a colossal and endless dragon . So far every knight that tried to off the dragon with fire, rain, whatever, was met with *death by a thousand paper cuts*. But the dragon don't really kill them, bc dragon is actually squeamish Lol. But since the entire kingdom is enrobed by the pages of a large dragon, there are entire university branches dedicated to discerning the riddle of the princess, why, why did she turn into a dragon, why is this her curse. And their culture shifts around literature, books and academia being treated as the holiest, most venerable form of knowledge. But anyway a cringefail and autistic kitchen boy loves math. He had come from a long line of dedicated scholars of the book. Boring and trifling matters like arithmetic were considered ignoble when in comparison to the mystery of the paper dragon. And the boy disagreed, of course. He loved books and all but was easily frustrated by them, he cannot focus on it, he needs the abstract to become concrete in his mind, he is the kind of boy who looks at a bridge and marvels at the sheer architecture it took to build a bridge before he is astounded by the bas relief;

he loves the world as it is and wants to tease out the blueprints. Anyway, when he was a boy, his mama used to tell him the story of the paper dragon, with only the first two pages of the dragons body being successfully interpreted by scribes. It had been about a princess who loved looking towards the stars and recording the sun's positions through refracted telescopes. And how she had a library filled with endless knowledge.

And the boy read and read the two pages and was enchanted by the mystery of the princess' riddle. In his teenaged life the boy would see the dragon flying above him while he was climbing an almond tree, and he makes out one of the pages along its infinite body as having similar lyrics to the known pages.

And it bothers the boy, all day he'd think about it. And he thinks about the princess who locked herself in her tower, watching the sun through refracted telescopes, and made dedicated sketches and notes every day to discern where the sun had spots; and it sort of connects in his mind that those sunspot sketches helped form an image of the sun, in a way, so he does the same.

Every day he'd just watch the dragon, and waited for the repeating lyric, and noted it down, until he had a long and fucked up diorama of the dragon; It takes him 12 years to be able to reliably predict where on the dragon's body the lyric shows up again.

when folded a certain way, in accordance to where the lyric shows up, the dragon's papery accordion body, the dragon forms a star at its core.

written in a spiral, the story forms into an answer to the princess' riddle; "I want to be free, I want to be free, I want to be free, I want to be free,"

over and over and over. In all aspects the princess who was a prince all along had wanted to be free, and the only way he could think of escaping the confines of his life and the fear of misunderstanding, of everyone wanting to harm him or to treat him as unnuanced a person for wanting to be something else...... was to transform into a paper dragon, more unquestionable than a normal human boy who loved drawing pictures of the sun-

The boy who loved math looked at the folded piece of paper in his hands, now he held the answer to the riddle of the prince, and he'd look to the sky to see the dragon flying above him like an endless kite. And he'd smile up at the dragon, scrunching the paper star in his hands. And hed whisper, I love you, I know you. I see you .

And he could have sworn the dragon smiled back at him.

#I have been trying to finish reading wheel of time for 12 years #insane trans guy rants #what if you were a princess and you wanted to be a boy and a dragon #also what if they were in love #someone give me 150 usd ill draw this as a comic

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daichiduskdrop · 9 months

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˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚⋆·˚ ༘ *𝙎𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 ⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Chapter 13

Pairing: BTS Ot7 X fem! reader

Genre: A/B/O AU, Fluff, Angst, Strangers to lovers,

Warnings: slight mentions of smoking

Words: 3565

A/N: Hi! I just wanted to hop in and say that I changed one of the beta classmates name. It sounded too similar to a character I've decided on earlier! I hope it's no issue for anyone. Thank you for being you! Lots of love, always

Taglist: @thelilbutifulthings @ilovemoneymorethenmen @singukieee @cherrysainttt @felicityroth @mageprincess7 @lucis-noctiana @danielle143 @osakis-gf @girl-nahh @vintageoldfashion @neverthefirstchoice @juju-227592 @silentreadersthings @i-have-no-life-charlie @everyonehatesshani @iamkookiesforyou @dragons-flare @fangirl125reader @roseidol

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

Typing back your response, you tucked the phone away, realising the time for your lectures would be soon.

Packing everything up, you zipped your backpack and slung it over your shoulder, the small stitch keychain you had attached to it moving wildly.

Nodding slightly towards your classmates, they didn't seem to really even notice that you were leaving. You didn't mind; shrugging it off, you went on with your day.

You didn't necessarily have lectures where the teacher would be present and speak in front of a full class. Rather, you had been sent different documents, themes, and such every week that you had to study throughout.

The art history course wasn't necessarily your favourite by any means; you were always more into the actual creating process, but you also loved getting to know new artists and their works and analysing their processes and techniques.

So you made your way to the second floor. There were not many students in your way, as most of them were somewhere doing their own thing. Using your ID, you opened the library doors, walking in and shutting them gently behind you, making sure not to make a big ruccus.

The librarian that sat at the desk was an omega, like you were, but she was much older than you and never really spoke to you. You didn't think wrongly of it, understanding well why she was this way.

Mumbling a soft hello, she only glanced at you before she got back to filling out some of the documents laid before her. Walking around the desk, you made your way through the small walkways, stacked between tall rows of books.

You always liked going to the libraries; they smelled comforting to you, and with how quiet they were, it was just a safe space for you.

Making your way to the desks a few of the students were occupying, you took your seat at the furthest corner, next to a window that let in nice light.

You soon got to work, taking out the notebook and your notepad and pulled out the materials you had earlier printed out for yourself. Clicking the pen, you started writing, only having about 2 hours until you had to get back to your class.

You were paying close attention to your studies, making sure to finish on time. You weren't feeling like spending any of your free after-college time finishing up stuff you didn't do when you had the extra time for it.

You would much rather hang out with the packmates instead.

You forgot your earbuds at home, but luckily, the library was very quiet, so you were able to focus well. You liked listening to background audio when you worked on pretty much anything, but you settled without it.

Checking the time on your phone, it was already 14:51. You would have to get back to the studio by 15 at the latest. You still had to go over some stuff with your classmates, decide on who would do what, and finalise the whole poster concept.

Plus, you had to also work on your own assignments; not only did you have the „What is your problem?” theme, you still had to work on a few things for the ceramics and illustration course.

Closing the notepad and plucking your pencil case back into your bagpack, you collected all your stuff before leaving. Looking at your phone while walking, you opened the group chat again, noticing that they had replied by now.

Walking back downstairs, you took a seat at the big table once again. Most of your classmates were already littered all around, some typing in stuff on their own notebooks, others already painting at the studio stands, working on their solo works.

Walking over to Chin-Hae, you tapped the beta on his shoulder, trying not to make him jump in fright. He had a pair of black headphones over his ears, focusing fully on his sketchbook while he mapped out some ideas for his own projects.

Looking up at you, he pulled the earphones down, his eyes larger with wonder. „What is it?” He asked, not used to you coming to him.

„I was just wondering if you and Sun-Hi Unnie had time; we could go over the posters now." You murmured, rubbing at your arms, fingers hidden away.

Not answering you immediately, you saw him purse his lips before he looked towards where the other student was sitting, on the laptop typing.

„I guess we can do it now...” He mumbled, obviously not fully set on his decision, making you feel bad immediately.

„We don't have to,- if it's not the right time-." You tried to softly say it, but your voice must have been too quiet since the older student didn't react at all.

Sighing out loudly, he got out of his chair, took a few steps towards the other group member, and mumbled a few words to her before they both sat down next to each other.

With their stares on you for a second, you were confused, expecting them to come sit by the already arranged three chairs next to where the beta was sitting earlier, but guess not.

Jumping into action, you quickly took a chair from next to you and hastily carried it over to them, both of them already sitting close together with the girl's computer before them. Not sure where to exactly go, you just took a seat behind them, trying to see the screen yourself.

„Okay.. let me find the files for it quickly.” Sun-Hi said, holding the small mouse under her palm as she went through her files, opening a folder consisting of a few documents.

Clicking on the one titled "Poster Concepts," she let it load up, opening her Photoshop programme.

„...Do you guys have any ideas?” Turning in her seat, she looked over both of you, her hair well styled and pulled up in a claw clip. She always looked well put together. You admired that about her a lot.

It was quiet for a second, and soon both of the betas turned to look at you when none of them had spoken.

„...um.. I was thinking that since we have a quite colourful colour scheme, the writing should be just plain and simple so it's easy to read...”

You almost whispered, avoiding their eyes as much as possible. They always seemed just a bit too judgmental, especially since you were supposed to work on the project together.

Chin-Hae nodded, scratching the top of his head a little bit. „Yea, I mean that's... kinda obvious, but okay.” He answered, leaning back in the chair.

„Yea... And then for the actual concept, I was thinking we should just take a photo of one of the works we will exhibit; I think the works Heemin Chung-ssi provided for us would look good."

You said that, unsure of what they would think. Heemin Chung was quite a well-known artist who, after being messaged along with a few other local artists about being in their exhibition, didn't take much time to respond.

The group project then got a bit more serious, realising that it wouldn't be only the pack members of the school students visiting now. It might attract a lot more attention, and since marketing was a big part of the assignment, they knew they would have to incorporate this as much as possible.

„Good, yeah, I think that could work well, yeah. Will you do it then?” The girl asked you, one forearm resting over the back of her seat, looking at you with a sweet-looking smile.

You felt your eyes widen a little; there wasn't much time until you would have to get it finished. With only until about tomorrow or so, you knew this could get to be a bit of a time trap.

For god's sake, the list of all the artists in the exhibitions wasn't even finished yet!

„Yeah, I think you should do it; I'm sure whatever vision you have is... nice. We can go over it by tomorrow morning and adjust anything needed still.” Chin-Hae agreed, nodding his head.

„I'm not sure if I can—" You tried to say it, but it fell on deaf ears. At your complaints, the betas sighed out loudly, obviously annoyed with you, both of their scents suddenly heavier than before.

„Gosh. It's fine. Here, I'll send the file to your school email; just type it in.” Sun- He sighed out, already opening the mail app and pushing the laptop closer to you.

Unsurely, you typed in your school address, slumping back in the seat as you watched her look through her files, find the right one, and attach it to the email. After clicking send, the work was quickly transferred to your shoulders with no problems.

„Okay, great! Let's talk again in the morning.” Your classmate smiled, her teeth showing, bright and white. Nodding, you just decided to go with it; it wouldn't be too big of a deal-breaker for you, right? You would get it done just fine, like Unnie said.

Placing the chair back in its place, you went around the table again, sitting in your spot. Taking a big sip out of your half-empty water bottle, you knew you really had to thank Jimin for telling you about the syrup. It was very tasty.

Realising that you would just have to get to the poster after school, you now still had to work on your own projects, opening your laptop and going through all the emails you received pretty much every monday from your teachers regarding some feedback and suggestions.

Taking notes on your notepad, it didn't take long until the class got a bit more rowdy. Looking up, you noticed most of your classmates packing up; the time was 16:14.

You weren't that far in yet; you've only just read through the critiques for your illustration sketches so far. You would have to completely change two of your already well-thought-out pictures, which would add to some of your work.

Luckily, the teacher approved of the story book cover design you made. For one of the final semester projects, you chose to work on a book full of fables and stories that would be mostly for still very young pups.

You weren't used to making children's illustrations, but after reading the first one, you kind of fell in love.

It was a very cute story, in a way a bit sassy too, about the beginning of the world when a magician taught all animals how to act like themselves. A crab escaped, though, and started to play around with the sea instead, making giant tide waves appear out of nowhere.

With the humans complaining, the magician was quick to solve the issue. Taking the angsty, oversized crab to talk, he took away his shell. Feeling vulnerable, the animal turned whiny, blaming the humans for building their houses too close to the shore.

And so, he was given a pair of scissors, helping him cut up fruits and be more comfortable in the wild. He was allowed to be in the sea and also on land, but as a reminder of his mistakes, his shell would only last him 11 months of the year.

You just found it very cute and funny; with the constant whining and complaining from the sea animal, it was just very cute for you. And so, after you finished reading all the other 24 fables, you were sure that this was the perfect thing for you to work on.

Remembering Namjoon telling you to tell them in advance, you took your phone out once again, opening the group chat.

Even when you didn't get a response right away, you knew that they would notice in time. You weren't sure who would come take you, but with how insistent they were on giving you a lift once again, you knew that they would in fact come.

Smiling lightly to yourself, you opened up the next email, reading over it carefully.

Dear Miss L/N,

I have carefully observed your ceramic work on the theme of ideology, and I must say that it is quite thought-provoking. Your artistic exploration of this complex concept is commendable. In order to help you continue to grow as an artist, I would like to offer some critiques and suggestions that may further enhance your understanding and expression of ideology in your ceramic pieces.

Please keep in mind that these critiques are meant to be constructive and to inspire you towards improvement.

Composition

Your choice of composition in your ceramic work effectively communicates your conceptual ideas about ideology. The arrangement of forms and elements within each piece creates a visual narrative that engages the viewer. Well done!

However, in some instances, the placement of certain elements can be further refined to enhance the overall impact of your work. Consider experimenting with different arrangements to find the most compelling composition for each piece.

Craftsmanship

Your craftsmanship in shaping the ceramic forms is impressive. The level of detail and precision you have achieved adds depth and character to your work and allows your ideas on ideology to come to life.

However, in your earlier assignments, I noticed a few areas where the glazing could be improved. Be mindful of achieving a smooth and consistent application of glaze this time, as it will help to create a more polished final appearance for your ceramics.

Symbolism and Visual Language

The symbolism and visual language you have employed effectively convey your intended message about the theme; therefore, you are on track regarding that. The choice of symbols and their placement within each piece successfully create a dialogue between the viewer and the work.

To push your exploration of ideology even further, consider experimenting with different symbols or incorporating additional layers of meaning. This will deepen the viewer's understanding and create a more nuanced conversation around the theme. I carefully read through your written notes you sent me earlier, and you are following your visions well so far.

However, in some instances, certain elements within your work may distract from the core theme. Take a step back and evaluate each piece to ensure that every element contributes to the overall conceptual clarity of your message.

Keep up the exceptional work, and I look forward to seeing how your artistic journey unfolds.

Best regards,

Wan Sook

Sighing out, you jotted down a few notes. Your teacher for ceramics was quite strict but open-minded about the assignment messages. She always intended for her students to tell their own story and provide their own message, but she didn't let anyone slack off during the class either.

Standing up, you knew you would just have to finish everything up at home again; it was late enough and the sun would start setting in only a few hours at maximum.

All of your classmates have already left, so you just packed up your stuff, turned off the lights, and went to the school entrance.

Checking your phone for any notifications, you only saw one.

We? What was that supposed to mean? You thought only one would come to get you. They must have been busy today; they should focus on their work instead of coming to get you.

Furrowing your eyebrows slightly, you unlock your locker before you put on the jacket and the scarf, careful to tie ot around your neck tightly.

Walking to the entrance, you beeped your ID at the scanner, allowing you to walk through the barrier with no issues. With the glass doors sliding open thanks to the motion trigger, you walked out, walking down the few front steps slowly.

You noticed Sun-Hi and one of your other classmates, Haneul, standing near the entrance, leaning against a wall, smoking. You never got to speak with Haneul before; she reeked of a heavy alpha scent, and with how upfront she is, you were always just too shy to even approach her.

You didn't pay them much attention, only recognising their scents and the smell of smoke; you didn't even dare to pass them a glance. Instead, you walked towards the parking lot right in front of the school.

You couldn't see the car the alphas came in with earlier in the morning, but there were only about 8 cars parked, and compared to any of the other ones, the sleek and much bigger car struck your attention immediately.

Walking in the direction of the black Hyundai, you saw the front doors open before three men piled out quickly. Coming to you the fastest, Tae already had his arms outstretched and his long trenchcoat left unbuttoned.

His arms wrapped tightly around you right away, tucking your head gently underneath his mask covered chin. You could feel his chest rumble a bit in content. With his cheek rubbing over your hair gently, you also nudged his neck a little.

„My sweet babycheeks. How are you, baby? Ah, I'm so glad to see you finally!” He proclaimed, but before he had time to say anything else, you were already pulled into a different pair of arms.

Gently brushing over your head softly, the alpha checked over your form, making sure you were fully okay after they had been absent for a little while. They were anxious about having you leave their sight.

„Come here, peaches; let me hold you for a little bit, cub.”

Jin didn't say much else, opting instead to hold you tighter and closer, one hand still rubbing over your head. He too scented you a little bit.

Pulling away after noticing the last man hover around for a bit, too shy to approach, he smiled at you finally, letting Yoongi also get his sweet greetings with you.

Turning to the last alpha, he beckoned you closer, having you take the few steps hurriedly before you hugged him yourself.

Exaggerating the huff he let out at you cuddling up to his chest, he soon let off and also pulled you close to him. Brushing a few locks behind your ear, he watched you fondly, also looking over at you.

All three of them made sure to subtly go over your scent glands, making sure you weren't in any distress or sadness.

Assured that your day went okay, even Yoongi soon rubbed his chin and knuckles over your face, gentle and content with you in his arms after a long day.

„My kitty. Alpha missed you, sweet baby. Were you a good girl today?” Nodding subtly, you felt your cheeks heat up slightly and your stomach flutter a little.

„Good.”

Was all he answered, pulling you towards the opened car. Waiting for you to enter first, he got in the back seats with you, and even if there was free space next to the window seats, he was quick to pull you to the middle one.

Patting you on the head gently, he pulled the car door closed, shushing you at your soft whines. „It's only for safety, kitty, I promise. Buckle up now.” Yoongi ruffled up your hair a little, smiling at you softly.

With Taehyung driving and Jin sitting next to him, the car soon went on its way. As you were going out of the parking lot, you noticed both of your classmates looking at the vehicle next to the entrance.

„How was your day, cub?” Jin asked after turning on some soft music to play in the background. He turned in his seat a little, his puffer jacket crinkling a little.

Looking out of the window, you thought of your day. Nothing too bad happened, so it was a good day—great even.

„It was alright. I still have to finish up some stuff for tomorrow, though.” You mumbled the last part, picking a little at your fingernails.

„What do you have to do?” Taehyung asked, only sharing a short glance with you through the back mirror.

„Just one poster; I'll tell you about it later.” You whispered, too tired to worry about it now.

„Okay baby. Do you want to go to your place and stay there for the night?” The alpha asked, noticing how wrecked you looked.

Even when they would always have you choose what you would want to do yourself, they did secretly hope that you would stay with them tonight, and the nights continuing on.

You seemed to be settling in so well, and after seeing in what part of the city your apartment complex was located, they knew that it would be a bit better for you. There was no such thing as rushing with the second gender's needs.

„I can't stay tonight...? With you guys?” You whispered again, your disappointment and sadness clouding up in the small space, making all of them alert suddenly.

„No, no, no, baby. Of course you can babycheeks; you can always stay with alphas.” The youngest was quick to correct himself, making sure not to be misunderstood. He was just worried about them moving on too quickly with you.

It really was considered normal in a lot of packs to have the mate they were currently courting move in pretty much right away.

They wouldn't mind you doing the same, but they understood well that easing into it over time would work better for you.

„Alphas will always take care of you, sweet kitten. How could we not? You are the sweetest little 'mega around kitty.” The alpha next to you said, his voice final, making sure to not leave you in doubt.

Especially since he was telling the truth.

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

344 notes · View notes

kararisa · 4 months

Text

darling, starling

— 12. a little bit scandalous — ✦ (wc: 0.3k)

Sprinting through an aquarium and getting chased by your fans wasn’t exactly what you had in mind for today. First time for everything, you suppose. A crowd of people, their phones out, and recognition in their eyes was a dangerous combination, so you had tugged Scaramouche and started running the moment people started to surround the two of you.

Your eyes darted across the dim halls trying to look for a hiding place. When Scaramouche took the lead and changed direction, tugging you along with him. Panic changes to relief when you suddenly spot the supply closet he’s leading you toward but gods is he really gonna have you squeeze in there?

Scaramouche, however, didn’t hesitate. With a twist of the knob, he swings open the door and practically shoves the two of you inside. The limited space inside left you pressed tightly against each other, your chest firmly against his and your limbs tangled up together. The sudden intimacy left your cheeks flushed, but there was little time to dwell on it. Fluorescent lights cast shadows overhead, and you hear the rush of people from far away.

If people were to see you like this… it would cause an even bigger scandal than if the two of you were to get caught just holding hands in the dim light of an aquarium.

You share your grievances with Scaramouche in hushed whispers, “Don’t you think us being spotted like this would be, oh I dunno, a little bit scandalous? Maybe we –”

He places a finger on your lips, effectively shushing you. Scaramouche leans closer to the door to try and listen in on the crowd, ignoring your glare in the process while keeping his finger on your lips.

Shutting you up and ignoring you? Irritation simmers inside of you and in a moment of impulse, you tilt your head up slightly, catching the tip of his finger with your teeth and biting down. A silent assertion of your presence.

“Don’t you ignore me, smartass,” you whisper in his ear. “You’re stuck with me until the crowd disperses.”

Scaramouche finally looks at you, his cheeks red.

Serves him right.

✧— previous — masterlist — next —✧

summary: being the world-famous singer-songwriter "zenith", the limelight has been on you ever since the start of your career. however, the media becomes relentless when leaks of music you never meant to release begin to circulate. your friend scaramouche, meanwhile, seems to have gotten stuck while writing his second book. with a deadline fast approaching, he comes to you with a deal: act as if you're dating him so he can gather reference material and, in turn, he'll help keep the press' eyes off of your leaks until you release your next album. a win-win in your book, so why not help a friend out?

author's notes:

if anyone wants to hide in an aquarium supply closet with me, hit me up

just gonna plug the playlist for the first act again hehe

taglist — currently OPEN:

@aestherin @unsterblich-prinz @yourstrulykore @krnzysh @syriiina @yumiaur @featuredtofu @kodzusmiles @meigalaxy @fangygf @motherscrustytoenailclippings @samyayaya @hiimera @beriiov @e0nssadrift @dazaisboner @nillajhayne @chluuvr @nillajhayne @deffenferofjustice @romyoia @xiaomainlmao @hotgirlshit5 @potabletable @letthewindlead @esuz @toriiee @kclremin @angelkazusstuff @phoenix-eclipses @sakiimeo @mayuumine @lilybythevalley @only-cherry-blossom @keiiqq @what-just-happened-huh @n3r0-1417 @haunts-gh0st @layla240 @mamafly @duckyyyx @certified-shrimp @kgogoma @xtobefreex @mechanicalbeat1 @meidnightrain @nordicbananas @feiherp @erzarq @nnasv

185 notes · View notes

livingemkayde · 8 months

Text

ch vi. bruises

joel miller x f!reader x unrequited!tommy miller (no outbreak AU)

chapter six of chaser

warnings: 18+ minors please dni. ooof okay where to start, smut unprotected p in v, mentions of bruising from sex? fighting like actual real life fist fighting, rough but sweet sex, grinding, lowkey some cockwarming?? kinda unwanted kissing, tommy being annoying and somewhat overbearing, and unwanted touching, but not sexual. caroline. just, caroline. because she deserves her own warning for this one. no use of y/n.

summary: everything comes to a head at tommy's birthday party.

a/n: this is genuinely the longest part/chapter thing i've ever written so enjoy. tommy is really annoying in this one, im still deciding if he's going to have a redemption arc. sorry this took so long. as always, i love you all so much. MY TUMBLR LITERALLY SHIT ITS PANTS WHEN I TRIED TO EDIT THE TAGLIST SO IM SORRY IF YOU GUYS GOT TAGGED LIKE 400 TIMES.

if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!

“What’s goin’ on?” Joel says, almost a whisper. You’re still not sure if he’s talking to you or Tommy. You can't take your eyes off Tommy’s gaze. From the looks of it, Joel’s question makes Tommy more angry and way more confused. “Joel,” you say, trying to look for any indication in Tommy’s face that he’s not going to go bat shit crazy. “‘S fine. We’re okay.” But Joel doesn’t listen. Because he’s Joel Miller and maybe you can’t see it right now, but you can hear the concern dripping off his tone—an indication that he won’t ever leave. Not now. So he stalks towards you both and you try to shake your head no, and he doesn’t listen.

You can almost remember it like it was yesterday.

A few weeks back, the first time you invited Tommy in for a drink after dinner. Sarah was asleep back at the house, Joel was doing — god knows what. The sun was set, the mosquitoes were probably out, and there was a quiet, even maybe too quiet silence when Tommy pulled up to your house.

He had asked what the rest of your plans were for the night.

You had said nothing much, not knowing it was an invitation — he stayed till 2 a.m. that night.

But it was okay. Because he made you laugh and you enjoyed his company. He was interesting. Tommy told you about how he never wanted to go into contracting in the first place. About his broken bones, his all time biggest regrets, how he was smitten with his old high school flame turned mean cheerleader until graduation.

It was the first time you ever realized he was — well — his own person in the sense. Not just Joel’s younger brother. But Tommy. Tommy Miller.

Maybe in another life Tommy might’ve even been good for you. A perfect pair — a match. He wasn’t mean and brooding and he certainly didn’t have 12 years on you.

And he made you smile. And he was genuinely—genuinely interested in your life. Your post grad prospects, college, books, and even how you played soccer just like Sarah when you were younger.

But when he leaned in that night, closer to you than ever before. You froze. Like genuinely frozen, and you couldn’t even dare to look down to his slowly approaching lips, let alone how his arms caged you in.

“First kiss?” you remember him asking.

You had just stuttered out nonsense, not wanting to breathe too hard and run the risk of pushing your lips flush with his.

“I — um —” you nervously laughed. You couldn’t even think—not in the way you should—not when the first person that comes to mind when Tommy says, kiss is his brother.

He had leaned in closer then—more tentative. Like you were a scared deer in headlights or a frightened kitten and he was inching forward, wanting to move closer.

But you didn’t really do — anything.

And he had pulled back a bit, gave you a teasing look and a ruffle on the head and continued with the conversation.

In all honesty you were scared that he might've been inching forward to kiss you. The small fear settling through a slightly erratic heartbeat and nervous laughs.

You were scared then, but can’t really remember the last time you’ve felt this kind of fear.

Hurt, discomfort, shock, maybe.

And although it was being quickly replaced with anger, you don’t remember this feeling — this kind of fear. Not even the kind you get from watching a scary movie — where you can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins and then dissipating when the screen goes dark, and the lights turn back on and all you have to worry about is if the scary nun from the big screen will appear in your dreams.

You can remember all the last times you’ve gotten mad, sure. Mainly at the Miller brothers.

But never fear — well, not until right now.

Because whoever that Tommy was is definitely not the same guy staring back at you right now, with a bruised fist, an angry look swirled with hurt marked permanently on his face and one emotion that you can definitely place behind his eyes — jealousy.

Some hours earlier.

You spread colorful tablecloth over the mismatched tables in Joel’s backyard. The string lights are being hung up, Joel stands on a ladder towards your right, the sound of a hammer echoing through the small backyard.

You pick your phone out of your back pocket, checking the time. You also find it in you to check Tommy’s texts again, but no other messages have been sent since last night. You look down at your phone — at the messages — and sit against one of the tables.

Yesterday:

You: can we talk in person?

Tommy Miller: I’ll see you tomorrow at the party?

You hadn’t seen the text until this morning, when Joel and you found it in yourselves to get out of bed, have a shower, and start setting up for the party. So when you saw it, you would be lying if you said your heart didn’t skip a beat.

You’re a bit nervous at the prospect. You did not want to talk to him at his party—honestly just trying to text him so that the air would be cleared for the party.

But his words echo in your mind.

“Just think ‘bout it before you say no.”

You let out a cursed sigh.

Tommy had to know. Right?

If he knew the dreaded ‘no’ was already braced on your lips he had to know. That this thing between you and Tommy would never work out. That you’re way better as friends. That it would ruin everything — the dynamics of it all — that you were smitten with his brother and you guys had just slept together for the second time without Tommy’s knowledge and that—

“Alright?”

Joel stands in front of you, dipping his head to see a scowl marked on your face. You quickly — maybe even too quickly — forget about the messages, hell, forget about Tommy.

Because Joel looks handsome. He’s always handsome, you’ve thought since the moment you met him at the bar. There’s something intoxicating about him, his arms, the curve of his neck. His brooding nature does him justice — a uniqueness about him that makes you want to uncover more, learn more, see more.

You remember last night—very vividly through small ebbs and flows of sleep. The moonlight seeped into your skin as you both rolled around in gray sheets.

It makes your cheeks heat a bit at the thought.

You remember everything. Every little detail. You don’t think you’ll ever forget.

You tuck your phone back into your pocket.

“Yeah, sorry. ‘S just…” you trail off, he nods his head in understanding, coming closer to you.

He braces his hands on either side of your body, caging you in. Your faces study each other’s mere inches apart.

“Tablecloth givin’ you trouble?” Joel teases in a soft whisper, looking down at your lips, then back to your eyes.

“Funny,” you say with a grin and run your tongue over your lips.

“You need help, baby, all you gotta do is ask.” Joel’s small smile plays on his lips for a fleeting second. You miss it as soon as it’s gone.

“Duly noted. But I’m not the one who’s been hanging up string lights for the past hour.”

He pats your ass a bit, teasing you and pushing out a playful sigh.

“Perfection takes time.”

Joel’s beginning to dip his head to kiss you, but you find it in you to bite back.

“And yet the left side’s still lower than the right,” you whisper, pulling your head back slightly. He turns quickly to look at the fence, but gives you a harder slap on your ass when he realizes the lights are, in fact, straight.

Joel chuckles, pushing off from the table, you turn back around to continue fixing the cloths, and look back at him over your shoulder.

He’s looking back at you too.

“You’re killin’ me,” he says, and you smile to yourself when you turn back around.

You look around the backyard and check your phone for the millionth time since the party started. You can hear Sarah running around, screaming a bit while jumping into the pool. But your brows furrow when you find that Tommy still hasn’t texted you.

You spot a tuft of red hair swinging through your vision and spin to find Janet Baker squeezing through the crowd.

“Janet!” you say, approaching her quickly. You’re happy to see her—Tommy didn’t invite many people you’re familiar with.

“Hey, Doll. Thanks for the invite!” she says, pulling you into a quick hug, but when she sees the look on your face, her mouth drops into a frown. “Sweetie, you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. I—Tommy didn’t…I don’t really know anyone here,” you reply while sheepishly looking around the small, bustling backyard. It’s the kind of feeling you try your best to avoid. Like everyone is in on some secret joke that you have no clue about. Or everyone knows each other and you can’t even put faces to names because you don’t know any names—like right now.

“‘S fine—I’m happy to see you made it,” you let out a defeated chuckle.

“‘F course, baby. Charlotte really wanted to see Sarah,” she nods towards the girls in the pool, Charlotte’s red hair looking strikingly similar to the woman standing in front of you. Janet seems to be on her second drink of the afternoon, you saw her tipping back a solo cup out of the corner of your eye earlier.

“What are you drinking?” you ask her, nodding at her cup.

“Someone brought a fancy lookin’ wine I popped open,” she says, giving you a sly smile. “Why don’t we get you a drink? You’ll like this,” she says, you don’t have much time to react, she’s already pulling you towards the drink station.

You both settle into a comfortable silence, looking around the backyard while Janet pours your drink.

“So,” she says, giving you a wink.

“So…” you echo, sending a nervous laugh her way.

“Who’s that girl,” she nods towards Caroline while passing you a cup, you take a big sip, Janet fills it back up to the top without a second glance.

“Caroline,” you say looking at her and Joel. They’re talking to some other people, a small group of them congregating by the barbecue.

“Caroline…” Janet tests out on her tongue, willing you to continue.

“Caroline—Joel’s,” you can’t help but chuckle. “date. I guess.”

“That bother you?” she says, finishing the bottle of wine while the two of you walk back towards the edge of the pool so she can watch Charlotte and Sarah.

“Nope,” you say, and it’s not a lie. Sure, it might be a little weird to see another woman clinging to his arm after yesterday. But you know now. And that’s all that matters.

“Joel can—” you laugh again, “—Joel can do what he likes.”

Janet stops walking suddenly. You tear your gaze away from Joel and look at her with a confused furrowed brow.

“Sweetie…” she says with eyes that look way too knowing for your comfort or peace of mind.

“Janet…?” you say, though her gaze just intensifies.

“You mean to tell me it happened since I last saw you?”

Your eyes widen, a shocked look crosses your face and you quickly try to replace it with a bad mask of confusion.

“W-what? I—”

“Don’t lie to me, doll,” she warns, and she looks like she really means it.

“Janet…” you say in a not as effective and halfhearted warning tone back.

“Don’t you dare,” she wags her finger—a final warning.

What has gotten into you and why can’t you find it in yourself to lie to this woman?

“Don’t te—” she gasps, “Janet, I mean it. Do not tell anyone.”

She shuts her half open mouth and makes the my lips are sealed motion across her face. You laugh while stealing a glance at Joel.

“I told you,” she whispers to you in a hush, joining your eyeline towards Joel.

You stay silent for a moment, just taking everything and everyone in—but at the same time just looking at Joel. when you finally break the silence you’re a bit shocked at your question. You’ve never talked about Joel like this with someone who actually knows him. Everything has always been a secret—like you were supposed to be ashamed or something. You never were.

“How did you know?” you ask, hushed. You’re not sure she’ll even hear you.

“Would love to say it was intuition, sweetie—but—it was him. It was written all over his face.”

You stayed with Janet for the better portion of the hour, all through silent peaks at your phone to see if Tommy had texted you. When it was getting to the point where people were getting curious, you’ve just about had your limit.

You approach Joel quickly, you don’t miss Caroline’s stunned face but you really can’t be bothered with—that—right now.

“Joel?” you ask, pulling at his arm a bit, he excuses himself from the group and follows you towards the backyard's edge.

“Where the hell is your brother?” you whisper.

“He’s not here?” he asks, the same hushed tone also pushing through his voice at your question.

“No! I called him, but he’s not responding,” you pipe back while pulling out your phone. Though the lack of notifications from Tommy—just as before—tells you enough.

You both look at each other for a fleeting second. But the same worried look is probably etched on both your faces — fuck.

“This fuckin’ guy,” Joel mutters under his breath while pulling out his own phone and then putting it up to his ear.

You pace around the small area you and Joel are in, observing the unfamiliar faces.

“Nothin’,” Joel grovels, taking a peak over the fence towards the street to see if Tommy's truck has pulled up. “I’ll try ‘im again — just — you should mingle,” he says, still looking down at his phone.

“‘S fine. I don’t really know anyone here anyways,” you say absentmindedly, looking through your phone for Tommy’s contact and putting your phone up to your ear.

You hear yelling and shouting from the entrance to the backyard. You slowly lift your head, reluctant to tear your eyes away from frantic texts.

You spot him, in all his glory. Tommy Miller. Two hours late to his own birthday party—though he looks like he couldn’t care less, hugging old friends and new ones. He spots your eyes in the crowd and you can’t even be bothered to smile, a frown is almost permanently placed on your face—Late to your own birthday party?

He nods his head toward the house, a silent invitation to talk when he’s done greeting the guests. You nod back and turn to Joel, Tommy turns to everyone else.

“He’s here,” you say, pulling Joel out of his own phone, he does a double take towards the entrance and huffs out a groan.

“Goddamn idiot,” Joel says, running his palm over his eyebrow.

“I’m gonna go—” you say, nodding towards the house, towards Tommy.

“Yeah. Alright,” he replies, though he looks a bit concerned and unfocused, looking towards Tommy, then back to you, “You need me, ‘m there.”

“‘M not telling him about us on his birthday and It’s Tommy, Joel.”

Tommy—harmless.

Though Joel’s look sends a sweat to your palms for some reason. You don’t know why he’s worried.

It’s Tommy. It’s fine.

Right?

You hope as much as you make your way through the crowd. You beeline for the house and slip past the sliding doors into the kitchen where cups and bags of chips lay open and equally sprawled.

You can hear the door slide open and shut again behind you as you try and salvage the mess.

“Baby,” Tommy says, rounding the corner and coming close to you, “‘M sorry. The concrete guy was supposed to drop off the shipment tomorrow but he came today and needed a signature—”

“Tommy, it’s okay,” you almost have to will yourself to say. You also have to remember it’s his birthday.

He looks down.

“‘S okay. It’s your birthday. Happy birthday,” you reassure with a small smile.

“Looks great out there,” he says, fiddling with his phone in his hand.

“Thanks.”

You’re suddenly a bit nervous. You hadn’t really thought about everything that had happened when Tommy being late to his own birthday party was blanketing all the drama. But he’s here now, and you have no idea what to say. Maybe it would be better to not say anything at all—not address the fact that he asked you out, or you and Joel. But that guilty gnawing feeling eats you alive the longer you stand in silence.

“Joel helped you?”

“Yeah. I went shopping yesterday and dropped off the stuff here then we set it up this morning,” you say, nodding towards the backyard and then your car parked out front.

“You went shopping on your own?” he almost sounds offended.

“I wanted to go on my own.”

Tommy doesn't look convinced.

“Really, T. ‘S fine,” you brush off, leaning back against the kitchen counter and crossing your arms. He stares at you from the other side of the kitchen.

“Caroline here?” he asks, a hesitant look on his face as he switches from looking at the ground to your face—almost like he’s looking for a reaction.

“She’s out there somewhere,” you nod, keeping a neutral face masked with a small smile. “You should mingle. Just wanted to make sure everything was alright.”

But he doesn’t move, he just keeps fiddling with the case on his phone again, looking down to the floor—his feet.

“I— you said you wanted to talk in person.”

Shit.

You both look at each other, waiting. A game of cat and mouse.

“It can wait, T. Enjoy your party,” you say, gesturing to the crowd outside.

“Is it about—is it about what happened Friday?”

“Tommy,” you say, almost warningly. This situation is shitty enough as is. You really don’t want to spoil everything—even if there’s nothing left to spoil.

He doesn’t say anything. His thumb fiddling with his phone is the only sound coming from inside the kitchen. He looks at you, waiting for you to continue. Almost unbearable. You crack way quicker than you’d hope to last.

If he wants it like this, at his own birthday party, then so be it.

“Fine. I just—I wanted to…” you scramble for words but they jumble in your mind.

“I’m—” you fall short again. “About what you said. What you asked me. I don’t think that it’s…something I want. I’m—sorry.”

“You don’t think it’s something you want? Or you know that—”

“Tommy,” you say, giving him an awkward stifled laugh. Like he’s being childish with his response. Because he is. “I don’t—I’m sorry.”

He turns away from you suddenly, towards the window above the sink and just stares at it for a long time. You can see his chest puffing. When he finally turns back around, it’s different. It’s the Tommy you know.

“‘S okay,” He says.

Maybe he’ll get over it quickly—you hope.

“Are you okay? I’m—I mean I hope that this doesn’t change anything since I’m still gonna be around—” you lift your arm up to run a ragged hand across your forehead and through your hair, you don’t even notice that your shirt riding up, “— I just don’t want it to like—”

“What is that?”

Your eyes snap to Tommy’s, confused. You think he might be looking out the window again but his eyes trail to you, but lower. Like he’s looking at your hips—because he is. You’re still confused for a second, before examining your shirt, looking for stains or anything out of the ordinary. But you don’t find anything, your top spotless.

“What? I don’t—”

“No—” he takes a couple quick steps forward, into your space, you try to find his eyes—yours blown out with confusion and shock but his are trained and laser focused to your waistline.

“What’s—” he tries to pull up your shirt, you shove him back out of reflex. “You’re hurt, what happened t’you?”

He almost pins down your hands to see your skin under your shirt, dipping his head to look at your waist and hips and you suddenly know. You know there are hand shaped bruises littered across the skin of your waist, turning it deep purple. Handprints that match Joel’s exactly—almost like they’re burned into you. You saw it this morning. It’s why you didn’t bother to put on a swimsuit and decided to keep a top on instead.

What’s even worse is you know Tommy saw it too.

“Tommy!” you’re yelling now, fighting his grip.

You slip up, unable to get a good hold on his wrist like he now has on yours and he pushes the shirt up to reveal the bruises.

“What the hell is that?”

“Fucking—get off!” he backs away with your second shove, a different kind of look on his face. “Jesus,” you huff out, yanking your shirt back down.

You both stand there. A pregnant silence between you. You can almost hear the gears turning, he stares blankly. Putting it all together. Like maybe you’re not hurt, but you wanted it—wanted it from another man. Somewhere in the back of his mind he might keep wishing someone hurt you so he didn’t have to feel so betrayed. So when he asks, it’s like he doesn’t want to admit that it’s true—the quiet possibility of someone else in the picture.

“Who,” he says slowly, pointing down to your waist, “did that?”

“Tommy—” you say, but footsteps cut you off, you both turn your head to the entrance of the kitchen as Joel rounds the corner. He looks out of breath and his eyes flicker from Tommy and his finger pointing down at your waist then back to you.

“We alright in here?” Joel stands, hesitant, his fingers play with the bottom hem of his shirt in an anxious way. Like he doesn't know what he’s just walked in on—you’re not entirely sure you know the answer to that either. You aren’t sure if he’s talking to you or Tommy so you stay silent, waiting for the man in front of you to respond.

“Yup,” Tommy replies, too angry to be believable.

Joel looks at you but he doesn’t say anything. Not out loud.

No. You try to say with your eyes. We are definitely not alright in here.

“Joel,” you say, trying to look for any indication in Tommy’s face that he’s not going to go bat shit crazy. “‘S fine. We’re okay.”

But Joel doesn’t listen. Because he’s Joel Miller and maybe you can’t see it right now, but you can hear the concern dripping off his tone—an indication that he won’t ever leave. Not now. So he stalks towards you both and you try to shake your head no, and he doesn’t listen.

He stands beside you, putting a flat sprawled palm on Tommy’s chest and silently tries to push him backward. But Tommy breaks first, pushing Joel’s hand off him, staggering back while looking at you and Joel.

And maybe he gets it then, you think. Because Tommy lets out a deep chuckle—like you’ve got clown makeup on. Like he’s never seen anything more funny. He’s a lot of things but he is not fucking stupid. So he looks past Joel to your eyes. To your face, almost covered—ridden—in guilt and he can see everything.

“Really?” Tommy says, not sparing Joel a glance.

“You put your fuckin’ hands on her?” Tommy says, almost at a whisper which makes it all the more intimidating. You can see Joel’s back puff, his anger rising. But you also know Joel would never hurt his brother. Not on purpose.

But you’re scared. You’re really fucking scared in this moment because Tommy is entirely too worked up and you know whatever excuse Joel is going to say won’t help.

“Easy,” Joel says, his voice cutting through the tense silence.

You’re sweating. The hot summer of July in Austin getting to you. They stare at each other for a long time. Like at the kitchen table, like when you all first met. But this time, Tommy breaks, and his eyes flicker to yours, he takes a tiny step to the side so he can see you better.

“Is this why? Is this why you’re fuckin’—jesus, fuck. ‘S this why he went to get you a tire?” you stand, you can’t really say anything, your stunned figure doesn’t move.

“He hurt you,” Tommy breathes out, his voice almost breaking if he wasn’t so angry. You shake your head.

You both know that the bruises aren’t from hurt. That they’re far from it.

“He didn’t,” you reply.

“No, no, baby. He’s—you’re—” Tommy almost looks like he can’t believe it, shaking his head, switching between you and Joel. The look you give him shuts him up, and makes him back away, until Joel unclenches his fists and relaxes his shoulder a fraction.

“I didn’t really want to tell you like this, I was—”

“Fucking my brother?” he bites back, interrupting you.

That makes you a bit mad. You’re not in love with his attitude, nor his tone. It’s not like he has any right. It’s not like either of them do.

Joel moves to speak but you do it first.

“Don’t give me that,” you say, almost laughing, though the situation is not funny, not in the slightest. “We’re not dating, Tommy. We never were.”

Caroline strides in at that, looking at the scene unfolding in the kitchen. She stops short of the three of you, her mouth slightly agape. You roll your eyes, fucking perfect. Let’s just bring the party in here instead. You’ll give it to the woman. She has impeccable timing.

“Needed some napkins…” she trails off, holding the empty napkin stand in her right hand up so everyone can see. “I—I can come back.”

“Did you know?” Tommy turns to her, gesturing to you and Joel.

“Tommy,” Joel says from in front of you, a warning. Tommy ignores him.

“Did you know?” he asks again, Caroline stares back shocked. But she does consider it, rolls the idea around in her head before speaking.

“Them two?” Tommy nods. “Her?”

Okay. You really don’t love that tone. You silently chastise yourself for thinking she was nice at the bar when your first instinct was that she was a bitch—because she is. You were waiting for her snarky undertones or spoiled takes to show. You knew it was coming, you just didn’t know when.

“No, ‘f couse not.” She’s almost laughing, like it could never be possible. It hits you harder than you’ll ever admit. “She’s — you’re…young,” she says, looking at you.

Tommy gestures to you and Joel like he’s saying, well believe it, because it’s true.

Joel moves faster than you can comprehend. He’s got a tight grip on Tommy’s arm. He probably doesn’t even have to say anything, Tommy knows what’s happening. But Joel warns him anyway—again.

“Quit,” he growls. You’d guess this might be the point where Tommy usually backs down. But this situation is far from usual.

“Or what?” Tommy bites back. When Joel doesn’t respond he continues. “You gonna mark me up? Leave me all black and blue?”

Tommy doesn’t stop there, you try to move past Joel but he stops you, turns his head to you slightly, a hardened look in his eye.

“Oh, I forgot you’d probably like that, huh?”

Joel remains frozen for a couple fleeting seconds before whipping around and pushing Tommy into the back counter. You’re rooted to your place, you don’t even care that Caroline is still in the corner, holding the fucking napkin holder in the air.

“What’d you say?” Joel barks in Tommy’s face.

“Look at her fuckin’ stomach, dude!” Tommy throws the words in his face, pushing him back slightly and making a vague gesture in your direction, it causes your feet to move towards the brothers before you can think.

Joel backs off then, sneaking a tiny glance at you out of the corner of his eye, like he really is thinking about the marks he left on your waist. He had seen them this morning, ran his fingers over them too, and saw how the notches matched the curves of his fingers perfectly. But you kissed him, and told him it was okay. That it was more than okay. Maybe even whispered that you liked it between muffled groans. So when a glint of guilt flashes in his eyes it makes your heart break more than it already has.

“She said no,” Joel says, looking back at Tommy. A tense silence follows—like you’re not sure if Joel is going to continue or Tommy is going to bite back.

“Get back to your party,” Joel growls after a while. You bite your lip.

Tommy looks at Joel with unwavering eyes. His glance turns towards the window where he can see the bustling crowd—can almost hear the laughter. Then he looks down to his hand, outstretches it, undoes his gnarly fist, and when it curls back up again, you finally bite.

“Tommy!” you say, moving closer. But it’s too late. Joel’s figure knocks to the side and his hand instinctively grabs his face, his nose, his eye. Maybe the worst part about it all is that Joel doesn’t even look remotely surprised, or that he wants to fight back—he just stays there, a little hunched over when you yelp in shock and Tommy groans, shaking out a now bruised fist.

“Fuck,” you almost yell, your body doesn’t know what to do between bending down to see Joel’s face and looking at Tommy—at his face—because you don’t recognize him.

Joel almost huffs out a laugh, and to shut him up, to get him to bite his tongue, you speak again.

“Okay. We’re done here,” you say, pushing Joel towards the entrance of the house, towards your car.

And Caroline is there, pushing Tommy towards the couches and for the first time, you’re grateful for her.

The ride back to your house is silent after a short and quick bicker about who can drive. You think Joel might want to sit in the driver's seat so you can’t see the quickly forming bruises on the left side of his face but you make a decent argument, enough to settle him in the passengers—looking out the window.

You send Janet a quick text, asking if she can watch Sarah for a few hours. Brother emergency. Janet replies back and says the girls haven’t gotten out of the pool since you left. It makes you smile a bit, despite it all.

When you park in your driveway, you hop out quickly, Joel following closely behind. He waits there, right behind you, when you pull out your house keys, and waits when you unlock the deadbolt and waits when you push through the door.

“Make yourself at home,” you say, nodding towards the couches and dropping your keys in the bowl.

You disappear into the kitchen and brace your arms on the counter, your head hanging between your shoulders. You let out a deep, ragged breath and try to control your heartbeat.

“Fuck,” you mumble, shaking out your wrists, grabbing two advil from the bottle on your counter, a glass of water, and peas from freezer.

Joel’s sitting on the loveseat, looking down at his hands. You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either. He just takes the water and pills from your hands and swallows it silently. You extend the peas to him, he thinks about it for a while and when you shake them again, huffing, saying—just fucking take them. He finally obliges.

You get a good look at his cheek when he turns to set the water down on the table and you have to stop yourself from gasping.

“Joel,” you murmur, reaching for him, bending down, he stops you, grabs your wrist, then grabs your hand. But he’s gentle. Not like Tommy. Joel’s gentle.

“‘S fine,” he says, and winces when the peas touch his face. “‘M fine.”

You settle in between his legs, looking down at him. He’s got one hand on his face, holding the peas, and the other, wrapped around the back of your thigh. He doesn’t even want to look up at you. It breaks your heart.

“‘M sorry,” you say quietly, his hand on your thigh trails upward. He plays with the hem of your shirt and lifts it enough to take a peek at the purple that lies there.

He doesn’t say anything, just sits there, running a gentle, ghost-like touch across the bruises.

“He — saw it. I don’t…” you look down to your stomach. You can see the shape of his fingertips so clearly. It’s no wonder Tommy reacted how he did. “It was an accident.”

He doesn’t nod. Doesn’t shake his head. He tosses the peas onto the table and pushes the cotton of your shirt up further, to where he can see all of it—all the black and blue there.

“Are you mad?” you whisper, hesitantly, as he stares at his own hands, his own branding.

“‘M sorry,” he mumbles.

“Don’t be,” you say, begging, “Please.”

“He did that cause—,” you breathe out, taking his chin in your pointer finger and thumb and getting your first good look at his cheek, “—it’s-’s my fault, I should’ve—”

“C’mon. Don’t do that,” he says, cutting you off, nipping your apology in the bud, “I should be the one who’s sorry, this is — I hurt you.”

You shake your head.

“You know that’s not—you know that I—” you stifle a short chuckle.

“That you what?”

You let out a couple hot breaths, looking down at him, the purple around his eye slowly taking shape.

“That I liked it.”

Joel bends forward then, and you gasp. The dull scratch of his beard is the only thing keeping your eyes open. He trails his hot breath across your stomach, and leaves gentle kisses on your sides, on your bruises.

“Joel,” you mumble, and you hate how your voice sounds so breathy, maybe even desperate. You tangle your hands in his hair, grasping at the nape of his neck he pulls you down, closer, so you’re slotted in his lap, straddling him. Joel pulls back and looks at your face, brushes the fallen hair from your eyes.

“I meant what I said,” you start, he furrows his brow, “Still—mean it.”

From the look in his eyes he knows what you’re talking about. The words you slipped into his ear last night.

‘S you, Joel — it’s-’s always been you.

“But if this is—if Tommy—” you cut yourself off, correcting your words, “If I messed it up—”

“Sweetheart,” he says. Your heart pulls, you almost put your hand on his cheek, but you see the rising skin and settle for his shoulder. “‘M not goin’ anywhere.”

“Are you sure?”

He pulls you down further, so you’re flush against him. He studies your eyes and rubs at your waist, your hips. It sends a little fire down between your thighs.

“‘M here—‘M…I’m right here,” he mumbles, and shakes his head. Like he’s telling you no to any silent thoughts of doubt that might be floating around your head.

And then he pulls your head down to kiss you.

It’s needy, and hot and everything you want at this moment. He’s everywhere and you can feel his growing arousal between your legs. You both needed this—you think. After everything, after—fucking—Caroline and Janet Baker and Tommy Miller. You both needed each other so bad that when you grind down onto him he lets out a little desperate groan into your mouth that spurs you on.

Joel slips his hand under your shirt and finds the hardened peak there. He pinches it and rolls it between his fingers, it sends your hips forward and suddenly he’s sitting up, and shucking your shirt off.

He grabs your hips and moves you against him, your most vulnerable spots grinding against each other. Giving you both blown out eyes and puffy lips and panting breath.

“Sh–it,” you gasp when your shorts catch on your clit perfectly.

“Pretty,” he says, grasping at your tits, at anything he can find while you grind against his length. “fuckin’—pretty like this.”

You claw at his belt and before you know it, he’s lifting you up so you’re on your knees and he’s pulling his pants past his hips. You get the memo and take your shorts off, tossing them behind you. When you sink back down onto his lap, you can feel his cock slip between your wet lips down there.

“Fuck, Joel,” you say, gliding along his cock, soaking it. You can feel all of him now—grinding along his hardness—the girth of him fitting perfectly between your swollen lips.

“Angel,” Joel pants out, through sloppy kisses. You look at him. He’s got a desperate look on his face. Like he couldn’t wait just like you. Not even to get upstairs to your bedroom or to get all his clothes off. Like he’s been wanting this all day. Just like you.

You move up and reach down, feeling the wet mess you’ve both made down between your legs. You find his cock, hard and wanting, and position it at your entrance. The head sinks past your walls, enveloping it somewhere deeper and you both groan at the feeling.

You sink down on him slowly, you’re by no means physically ready to take him. But you can’t wait any longer. He kisses you, and down to your neck, making it easier to ease yourself down onto him, and when you finally reach the end, and you’re seated fully in his lap, you both gasp.

Your walls clench around him, eliciting a quiet groan from Joel somewhere near your neck. Your eyes roll back in your head, your forehead drops onto his shoulder. You both just sit there, waiting for the other to make a move.

It’s kind of like a game.

See how long you can both relish in each other’s warmth — the first person who moves loses.

Your walls tighten again and he lets out another groan, “Jesus,” he mumbles, nipping at your neck. You’re slowly adjusting to him, relaxing around him. It makes you shudder.

You realize he’s not really touching you. He’s got his hands on your thighs, but they’re just resting there. Not squeezing or gripping your hips like you know he so desperately wants. Maybe he’s scared, you think. From everything that’s happened today. From the consequences his touch barred.

But you didn’t care about the consequences. You liked his touch, needed his touch, just as much as he needed something to hold him back down to earth, anchor him to you—in you. And afterall, you just want him to feel good. Feel better.

“Touch me,” you gasp out, reaching down to his hands.

“Am touchin’ you,” he forces out, panting near your ear. His thumb absentmindedly pushes down on the skin of your thigh a fraction harder and then eases up, like he’s saying this is the best I can do.

“No, Joel,” you moan, rock your hips a little, moving first, moving frantically and suddenly, “touch me,” you say into his neck, reaching down to usher his hands to your hips, your waist, you.

Joel gets it then, the silent permission. The it’s okay, and grips you harder, but not as hard as you know he would like. It’s good enough for you because he moves your hips, rocking you up and down onto his length—having enough of the senseless grinding.

“Fuckin’ good—” Joel groans, your hands fly to his shoulders, his hair. “You feel good.”

Your legs grow tired, he can tell. You try your best, but you’re sweaty and tired and fucked out, and when he hits a spot deeper inside you that makes you moan out, louder than before, and you almost collapse onto him. He ruts into you a little. Meeting you halfway. Fucking you deeper—maybe even a bit faster.

Your legs ache and you feel a sheen of sweat wash over both of you. And Joel’s eye is fucked up, his cheek too. Tommy is sitting back at the house—or god knows where—with a possible broken hand, Janet baker is watching Sarah instead of you or Joel, Caroline is still back at the house, and everything is a fucking mess, but it’s so right. He feels so right. He’s — he’s right.

You’re close then, the coarse hair on him inching you toward your climax. He knows, he can feel it from the inside. You don’t even have to say it this time, your question for his permission. He can see it already braced on your lips but he shuts you up with a kiss, a sloppy one, where he sticks his tongue into your mouth and your walls tighten around him again.

“Yes,” he says with a moan into your mouth, “yes, yes—ah.”

“Fuck,” you say tightening around him, becoming breathless and boneless, but Joel holds you up. He always does.

He grips you tighter, like how you know he wanted to, and you relish in the feeling. His thrusts become desperate and you brace yourself on the back of the couch so he can rut up deeper, chasing after his own orgasm. You can’t really breathe. Not when he’s everywhere.

“Shit,” he says, rocking into you.

Joel cums hard, holding onto you, wrapping you up in his arms as he groans somewhere near your temple. You let it spread through you, the mess of it all. He keeps you locked in his arms, even when you think he might pull away.

He finally pulls you off him, when he says it becomes too much and you sit on his lap, playing with his curls. When you both settle from your panting you can’t help but ask.

“What are we gonna do?” you say quietly to him.

“I dunno,” he grabs your hand and gives it a quick kiss. The bruise on his face is turning an ugly shade of purple. And the peas have gone warm, creating a small puddle on the coffee table. And your phone keeps buzzing from the entryway.

“We’ll figure it out,” he says, running a hand on your thigh.

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@siimiasoi @fandomscollide @lizzie-cakes @paleidiot @sunnywithachanceofjavi @koshkaj-blog @sunnysaphira @bbyanarchist @casa-boiardi @anavatazes @joeldjarin @l0vem3n @lmariephoto37 @turtles-all-the-way-d0wn @withasideofmeg @dinwifey @brinabees @sofiparallel @akah565 @defnotashifter @missgurrl @anoverwhelmingdin @rainbowcosmicchaos @pedropascalissofine @purplemechanics @suzmagine @hellaradd @josephine1837 @lawh0re @medic332 @lisaneedsbraces @angelmather1 @kirsteng42 @poodlebae @lunxramour

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