#shes so fine every time i see her i get dizzy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Total funding amounts to $125.3M.

#shes so fine every time i see her i get dizzy

woso-dreamzzz · 1 month

Text

Playing Favourites V

Leah Williamson x Child!Reeader

Summary: The Euros

The day before the final, you're in tears.

It's all Leah's fault and she sobs too.

They'd had some morning training before Sarina had sent them all off to spend time with their family before the match tomorrow. Leah had slipped out of the hotel as soon as she could, passing Alessia and her little sister on the way and then bumped into Mary taking her own little sister to a café.

It seems that everyone had the same idea to hang out with their little siblings because Leah had that idea too, collecting you from Mum and immediately taking you to the park.

You're still tiny and your little legs get very tired so Leah carries you most of the way until she can sit you on her lap on the swings.

You really like the swings, giggling every time Leah pumps her legs and goes a bit higher.

She doesn't see you too much but it's safe to say that you're still in that stage where you absolutely adore her. You're still at that point where everything Leah does is hysterically funny and cool and you want to do exactly what she's doing, no matter how small you actually are.

Which is probably why you don't tell her that she's pushing you too fast on the roundabout. It's going very quickly and it makes your head all dizzy.

Leah keeps pushing it faster and faster and faster though and your tight little grip on the bars loosens and you shoot off it like a rocket.

The roundabout is still spinning as Leah stares in horror at your little crumpled body. You sit up, bottom lip wobbling and promptly burst into tears.

She swears and leaps into action, brushing the dirt off your clothes before checking your head.

You've got a cut on your forehead. It's not bad or anything, it's barely bleeding but you whine and sob every time she touches it.

"I'm sorry, bean," She coos to you as you try to bat her hand away," Just a second. Just a little more. You're being so big and strong."

Leah's digging in the little backpack she packed for you and pulls out that most outrageously big plaster she can find before sticking it firmly to your head.

You sniffle. "Kiss better," You order.

"You want me to kiss it better?"

"Magic healing kisses," You say," Like Mummy's."

"Okay, bean," Leah says, pursing her lips," Are you ready? Here comes Leah's magic healing kisses." She presses multiple all over the plaster and then several more over your cheeks until you are no longer crying.

"Play more?" You ask, pointing over at the slide and Leah winces at the idea of you falling off it.

She shakes her head. "Let's go meet up with Mum. We're having lunch with her, remember?"

You huff but allow yourself to be led away by Leah before you're hefted up into her arms when another bolt of guilt jolts down her spine at the plaster on your head.

"Oh, what happened, little bean?" Your mummy asks when you both join her at the restaurant.

"Fell," You say with a little shrug, completely over it now as you draw all over your puzzle page," On spiny thing. Splat on the ground."

"I spun it too fast," Leah says sadly when your attention is fully on your drawing again," And she got flung off it. She was bleeding, Mum. It was terrible. She was crying."

"She's little," Her Mum says," She cries when she's a particularly cute puppy. It was probably shock, Leah. She's fine now and that's what matters."

"It was my fault. I'm such a bad sister."

"Leah, you're a good sister. You had today off and what did you do? You decided to take Bean to the park. You're a good sister. She adores you."

Leah isn't really convinced but she settles as you blindly reach out for another crayon.

"Bean, did you have fun at the park with Leah?"

You didn't look up at your mummy's question but you do nod your head. "Played on swings," You say as you scrawl the yellow on the Leah stick figure you've drawn," And fed ducks. Got ouchy but Leah did magic kisses so all better."

"That's nice," Your mummy says," Now, do you know what you want for lunch yet?"

You're on Leah's mind all throughout the match the next day, all the way until the final whistle and all throughout the medal ceremony.

"Look, bean!" Leah says as she pulls you over the barrier.

"Medal!"

"It is!" Leah laughs. She wraps an England flag around your shoulders, tying the corners together so it's like a cape. "Here, put it on."

She slips it over your head and you poke at it, the sudden weight around your neck feels a little weird but Leah is beaming so you smile too.

You don't leave her arms for the entirety of the pitch side celebrations, even when you completely crash out against her. Further up the pitch, Leah can spy Mary swinging her own little sister around while Alessia's little sister is kicking a ball around with her and Ella.

You're exhausted though, knocked out cold in Leah's arms with her medal still around your neck and the plaster from yesterday still stuck firmly across your forehead.

"Hey, man," Leah says as one of the photographers walks past," Do you mind?"

She beams at the camera, adjusting her grip on you so your sleeping face can be seen properly.

It takes a few hours for her to get sent the photo to her phone but it immediately becomes her Instagram profile picture and her lock screen.

It gets hung up in her locker too, so everyone can see you and her together.

#woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

677 notes · View notes

risuola · 8 months

Text

PROMISE — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

You felt sick watching your husband fighting for his life, but your unborn daughter seemed to sleep just fine despite your complete distress. Little that you know, Satoru made some promises to her.

cw: manga spoilers!!! (chapters 223-235 with not much of specific details, but it’s resolved around the events), reader is pregnant — 0,8k words

a/n: this piece has TWO alternative endings — FLUFFY & SWEET & ANGSTY & DEPRESSING — choose your fighter, I guess

Sick. You felt sick, sitting in the room full of people, most of which you didn’t even recognize. You felt sick watching the screens that showcased live what was happening in the middle of Shinjuku. You felt dizzy and nauseous, and so overwhelmingly sick when you heard people betting money, trying to make profit of something that was so painful for you to watch.

“You think he’s gonna win that?” “Nah, he’s dead.” Some men were talking, chuckling like it was entertainment of the highest level for them. And maybe it was, maybe some sorcerers could benefit from the outcome that you considered the worst one, but you felt like the world was crumbling down in real time. Your world was fighting for his life right in front of your eyes.

You sat there paralyzed, unable to move as all of the voices around you slowly became distant. Yuji’s rambling, Kusakabe’s comments and Yuta’s notes all blurred into one, incoherent noise in the background and you wondered what happened, what went so wrong to lead to all of this. Why it felt like you’ll never see Megumi again? You raised that boy, you talked down his teachers in middle school from expelling him when he beat the hell out of other students, you encouraged him to train harder when he felt down, overwhelmed by the comparison to Gojo’s strength. Why now it felt, like you’ll never get to force another hug out of him, like you’ll never see his grumpy face again? You’ve already lost Tsumiki, the tears from that still felt fresh on your face and now you had to watch your husband on the battlefield, being wounded time after time by a cursed spirit that should have been dead thousand years ago.

You felt your insides turning and twisting into a very tight knot, every time Satoru got hit by Sukuna’s attack, every time you saw blood staining his light skin, you felt a little closer to heart attack. It was a sight you could never familiarize yourself with, Gojo never bled. He never was cut, not even punched and now, all of his body was covered in slits. Just once in your life you saw him in a puddle of blood, decade ago while still in high school and after that, never again. Until today.

You were scared. Petrified with the thought that he might not come back, that you might never feel his warmth again. The idea of going further in your life without him spread out in your mind in the colors of the worst kind of nightmare, your throat clenched, tears rolled down your cheeks as you watched his domain shatter. Infinite void fell down in pieces and the reds and blues were not effective either. It’s worse than nightmare. It was torture.

You felt the pain, deep in your heart, spreading in waves to every cell of your body. You wanted to go there, to jump in and help him, to shield him from the attack even if it would cost you your own life. You wanted to go there and slap Sukuna out of Megumi, to hold the boy to your heart and tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that everything’s gonna be alright. But you couldn’t do either of those things. You knew you’d only be an obstacle, a limiting factor to your husband’s abilities. You knew your tears wouldn’t bring Fushiguro back. You were strong on your own, but now, you were helpless just as everyone else. And you had a life to protect.

And so, you sat there, rubbing soft circles into the bump of your stomach that held the little girl that was yet to come to this world, wondering if she’ll get to know her father. She will, you knew that, deep down underneath all of the layers of fear and worry, you knew that Satoru will win, because he has to win. He has to be there with you, he has to know if his daughter has the same blue eyes as him and the same cute nose as you, because he bet on that. He has to be there to take all of those goofy selfies with the newborn, he has to be there to showoff the miracle that he’s created with you, to be able to put new title to his name – the best dad.

The baby seemed to be sleeping, calm in your stomach despite the utter distress that consumed you. She probably knew better than you not to worry about Satoru. She probably knew that her daddy will never leave her. He promised that to her, when before leaving to the Shinjuku district he pressed his lips to the curve of your bump, whispering things you barely heard.

He made a promise so he had to keep it.

2K notes · View notes

rs-hawk · 2 months

Note

I'm obsessed with bestie's werewolf brother 😍!!!

Your writing is so good and effortless! Just found your page and I'm so happy I did.

How would bwb react if he can't spend enough time with you because you and your bestie are always hanging out? Even if you still see him just about every day? Would he get jealous of even his sister?

He doesn’t want to be jealous of his sister. He knows there’s nothing going on. She has a wonderful mate and you’re clearly into him… but the fact you still spend more nights at her house than his. The fact that you’ve let her sleep in your bed for years and let her go right back to it when you become friends. The fact that there are many times you smell more like her than him, especially with you wearing her clothes all the time, he can’t help that insecure jealousy from springing up.

Then you’re planning a weekend trip with her? You and him haven’t even taken a vacation together yet. Why do you want to leave him for three whole entire days just to hang out with another wolf??

You reassure him that you just want some girl time. You love him to bits but you just want to have some fun with a friend. He can’t understand it. Plus, there will be other wolves there. What if they don’t know you’re claimed and try flirting with you? Wearing his jacket isn’t going to be enough.

You assure him everything will be fine. Besides, his sister will be there. If you even flirted with someone she would probably bite your head off. The thought of you flirting with anyone else makes his blood run hot. Now he’s not just jealous of his sister, who’s going to get to spend three whole days with you alone, but the thought of what other wolves might get to see or do to/with you.

The night before your trip, you invite him over. He’s still mopey, even when you’re pressed up against him and falling asleep. He grunts and whines before giving in and wrapping his arms around you. You snuggle your head under his chin and into his chest. All he can think of is someone else touching you. Someone else not knowing you’re his.

Before he can really think about it, you’re rolled over onto your stomach, face pressed into the pillow as he mounts you. You sleepily whine out as his massive cock bullies against your cervix. Giving you no time to warm up or to get adjusted to his size. He’s nipping and licking at your neck, shifting more and more as he thrusts into you. You’re so full you feel dizzy, even before he forced his knot inside of you, cumming so deeply that you can feel your stomach extending, pressing you more against the bed.

“Baby,” you groan as you try to pull off of him, the slight tug making you stop.

“Everyone will know you’re mine. You’ll smell like me the whole trip,” he says almost triumphantly as he lays on you, kissing and rubbing his face against your neck.

451 notes · View notes

sleekswosobession · 3 months

Text

a bad batch

barça femeni x teen!reader

request: here

A/N: do you guys ever wonder what showers in the diff teams lockerooms look like? is it just a big room with showers and they’re all naked together or is there cubicals? if anyone knows please enlighten me

TW: Vomit, illness, swearing

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It wasn’t your fault really, it was whoever decided that the KFC given to you was actually safe to eat. Don’t they have quality managers for that? Despite it literally having feathers on it still, it was pretty meh. Not even enjoyable chicken.

That’s how you find yourself hunched over a toilet bowl, throwing up all contents of your stomach and more. You’re sweating but cold, you definitely know you have a fever or sorts but you’re uncertain how bad.

Worse thing is, training was supposed to start in 5 minutes. No way you were getting there now, not like this.

You shoot a quick message off to Jona explaining you don’t feel well and it’s probably something you ate. He replies quickly saying the usual of taking off however long is needed to get back to full recovery.

What’s the one thing you don’t consider in all this? You’re very overprotective teammates.

You end up puking more, and passing out on the bathroom floor due to exhaustion, the cool tiles feeling magical against the heat your body radiates.

- - - - -

You’re awoken by harsh knocks on your door. Your head hurts, your throat is scratchy, you’re dizzy and delusional, you feel like shit.

You stumble toward the door, opening it to see Frido and Keira.

“Jesus.” The Englishwoman says before pressing a firm hand and against your ablaze skin.

“Jona told us you said it was a light sickness? This is bad.” She says, rushing inside with the blonde Swede behind her. You were teammates with Frido on a national level as well so she took on more of a role while you settled in Barcelona.

“Come on, you shouldn’t be standing älskling (darling). Sit down, come.” She rests her hand on your back guiding you to the couch to sit down.

“Have you eaten?” She wipes away the sweaty hair away from your forehead.

“No.” You whisper softly.

“Ok, we’ll get you to eat and then into a bath ok? If we don’t get this fever down we might have to take you to a hospital.” The words compute in your mind, you don’t want a hospital. You just have to follow what the older 2 say and you’ll be fine. That’s what you tell yourself at least.

- - - - -

After eating a couple spoons of chicken broth Keira gave you, you’re taken to the bathroom and stripped into your sports bra and bike pants.

“Get in the water älskling, you’ll feel better I promise.” Frido kisses the side of your head, helping you in the bath.

It’s cold, and you do not like it.

“Frido, cold.” You whimper, trying to get out.

“I know but you have to stay. This is needed, trust me?” Her heart breaks at the sight of you in so much discomfort. But she knows it’s for the better.

You cry, along with everything else you’re feeling now, you’re cold and not allowed to move. Keira starts to stroke through your hair whispering soft words of affirmation.

“Shh bub, stop crying. You’re ok, it’s all gonna be ok.” She looks over to her teammate who is measuring your fever.

“It’s still a bit high, 37.8. Just a little longer älskling, then you can go to sleep does that sound ok to you?” You can’t even recognise her statement, only focusing on the cold your body feels.

After a couple more minutes, the girls decide you’ve had enough time to cool down so they change you into fresh pajamas, putting you to sleep in your own room before coming up with ways to hopefully get you to feel better.

- - - - -

When you wake up again a couple hours later, you feel even worse. Every body part aches and you feel the need to throw up again. So, you muster up all the energy you have and make a bee-line to the toilet.

Luckily making it in time, you spill more contents of your stomach. Someone has tied your hair back but you can’t will yourself to move.

“Hey, relax.” The accented voice says. You do as told and fall into Caroline. When did she get here? But you do as told, not wanting to feel this way any longer.

“Feel like shit.” You mumble, exhausted.

“I know, Marta and Ingrid are also here now. We will check your temperature soon ok? Right now you just need to not stress and stay here alright?” She runs her fingers up and down the sides of your torso until Ingrid comes in.

“I’ve got the thermometer. Could you open your mouth for me?” You open it without question, and she visibly cringes at the reading when she takes a look at it.

“This is not good, this isn’t normal. Look.” She shows it to her national teammate. Who also cringes.

“Tell the others to pack her stuff, get Frido here. Tell her the temperature and we need to go to the hospital.” This is when you start to worry, even in your delirious state.

There’s commotion outside the walls of your bathroom but you can’t will yourself to care, slumped against Caro hoping you’ll feel better soon.

Frido rushes inside, picking you up off the floor. She rushes to the car and gets in the backseat. In the front is Keira and Ingrid, in another car is presumably the other couple.

- - - - -

Arriving at the emergency department, you’re immediately taken to a private room where they hook you up to machines and an IV. You try to fight them, feeling too overwhelmed by the situation but Frido takes the chance to hold your hand in hopes of calming you down.

“Deep breaths älskling, it’s not too long before they’re gone.” Her words are a comfort to your ears, and she’s right because the doctors leave soon after that.

You look down at the little thermometer on your finger, showing the temperature of your skin. 41.5°.

You cringe like all the other girls who had seen it previously. Despite your hatred for hospitals, you’re happy because it means that the pain should go away sooner.

Frido has been on the phone for a bit, and she walks over to you.

“Magda wants to speak with you.” She smiles lightly, and you take the phone holding it against your ear.

“Hi Magda.” You say, voice an octave higher than usual.

“Hey little one, heard you weren’t feeling too great. Are the girls treating you right?” You hum.

“Yeah, they’re good.” She seems content with the answer.

“Ok good, we need you healthy for the next camp. Can’t have the mini star gone.” You laugh slightly at the given nickname.

“Alright pass me back to Frido, stay well and don’t do anything stupid. Please.” She begs over-dramatically.

“Come on, I’m not that bad!” You laugh, even if it made your stomach slightly hurt.

“Sure, sure. Talk to you later little one.”

“Bye Mags.” You pass it back to the older Swede and the door to your room opens revealing Mapi and Alexia.

Alexia walks over to you, concern visible between her brows. Mapi heads straight to Ingrid. (Not a surprise).

“You don’t look well at all. I’m not sure how you managed to text Jona.” You shrug, she takes a long breath.

“We’ll talk about saying how sick you actually are later, for now you should get some rest. We’ll be here when you wake up.” You do as told, quickly falling asleep without fight.

- - - - -

Over the coming days, the girls watch over you like hawks until they’re sure you’re better and you won’t snap in half at a slight gust of wind. It got annoying, but you couldn’t really say no when they were just trying to make it easier for you.

Whenever you threw up, cried in pain or overall didn’t want to do anything. One of the girls would be there to take any anguish you had away. No matter what, Barca isn’t just a team. But also a family.

—————————————————————————

sleekswosobsession: number 1 writer for cringe ending lines

anyways i need help from you anons, i have an english short story (800 word) narrative coming up but i need ideas.. i’m a writer not creative producer. but i do know that YOU have some ideas so please give it to me. these are the topics:

1. betrayal of trust

2. consequence of bad timing

3. Individual against society

(go wild but not too wild cuz i have to give it to my teacher)

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni #barca femeni #barcelona femeni x reader #barca femeni x reader

471 notes · View notes

certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 2 months

Note

i like to imagine going out to a party or club or bar with steve and kissing him on the corner of his mouth or his cheek or jawline and saying that "youre leaving a mark on him" with your makeup, and he pretends it's annoying or silly or a fuss, but you know it isn't bc he's blushing a little bit and his ears are red and his face splits into a grin the moment youre done

i hope this okay. i didn’t exactly go with the vibe you wanted but this was a version 2. i could always rework my first version for a more soft reader personality. a mini blurb.

steve harrington x fem!reader

masterlist

💗

clubs felt like a safari at times. every guy and girl feeling like a predator to your prey, watchful and hungry eyes following your every move. worst when your boyfriend was looking as handsome as ever and fellow girls couldn’t steer away their gaze. biting their lips and cooling their looks seductively, fixing their bras and messing with their clothing.

it was killing your vibe in the bouncing club. narrowing your eyes and crossing your arms over your chest, you seethed silently at a tipsy girl standing way to close next to your steve. and you hustled into action once a manicured hand gripped steve’s bicep and laughed at nothing.

determined strides towards the bar you were able to hear steve’s response to whatever the girl was asking, “i’ve got a girlfriend, actually. she’s here with me.” that didn’t stop her from undressing him with her smudge eyeliner.

you tapped a finger to steve’s shoulder, he already had the same response spilling from his lips but then ended on a happy, “girlfriend!” when he turned around to see you staring the girl down.

“baby! sorry this is taking awhile.” steve wrapped his left arm behind your waist and pulled you close to his side. your own two circled his stomach and clung to him like a koala.

“it’s fine, stevie. who’s your… friend.” barely acknowledging the stranger who was equally eyeing you down with annoyance.

“amanda.” “don’t really care!” throwing a wide smile at her before pushing to your tiptoes and pressing a kiss onto steve’s cheek, dark red lipstick staining his skin.

steve looked at you with wide eyes before leaning down so he connected your mouths, a bruising kiss that slowly turned french making you dizzy in the hot club. his large hands caressing your hips and sliding up and down, both of you getting too bold for the pda.

you were the first to pull away, steve going in for another kiss before you had to push a finger to his pursed lips. smudges of red covering his mouth and chin. you bet your face wasn’t any better.

“what was that for?” a slight pant to steve’s words.

a slight raise to your brows with a cocky smile, “gotta show the girls that you’re a taken man.” before happily diving back in for a kiss.

“get a fucking room!”

#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington angst #steve harrington au #steve harrington smut #erin's blurb request

484 notes · View notes

macfrog · 7 months

Text

heart, body, soul cowboy like me chapter thirteen

surprise! happy friday eve. here's some cowboy to get you through it. life has been a little tough on me lately. sorry for the terribly long wait. but the end is in sight, dear readers. tighten the stampede string on your hats. we're coming in to land.

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: you and joel are at an impasse. you resolve it the only way you know how

warnings: age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing, alcohol consumption, mention of dr*g use, titty appreciation, face sitting, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, major fluff, major angst

word count: 14.4k (y’all ask. mother macfrog delivers)

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🧡

You sigh. “I don’t want you…with…anyone else. I want you to…only want me.” His brows straighten. You sit in silence, staring at one another. Both daring the other to be the first to talk. But it’s his turn, and he knows it. So he swallows, and says – “I don’t want nobody else.” And that’s a thing. A great big, terrible thing.

It’s been a week since you last saw Joel. Blurred, tilting, pulling to-and-fro across your vision. A week since you last heard him; his low voice like the hum of an electric wire, tired acoustics drumming weakly through his chest into your heavy hand, laced through his own. Fingers draped softly across his swollen knuckles. You wonder if they’re still marked seven days later.

A week since you felt him. Felt your body lean towards him – gravity or dizziness or something stronger – as his weight dipped into the bed beside you. The way it has only a handful of times now, but enough to score it deep into your memory. Enough that you know the difference between him and anyone else, even with your eyes closed and your heart bleeding.

Enough to ensure that, for as long as you live, you’ll know and see each difference between him and every other person you ever meet. They won’t lower their head the way he does, or lift the corners of their mouth like him. Your name won’t sound the same, won’t sound as complete, coming from someone else’s mouth. Your body won’t magnetize to anyone, the way it does to him.

And that’s fine. The separation. The fact that he was a fleeting moment. The fact that it was over before you felt it leave, before you heard the door close behind it. It’s fucking fine.

Still, you let it hurt a while. Just a little while.

The gash on your calf has healed up, your hangover had subsided by Saturday evening. But your chest still feels tight, your hands are still restless. You lie awake staring at the ceiling, surrounded by the clothes you have of his; breathing in the ghost of his scent and breathing out pathetic, aching sighs. He’s all you smell, all you touch.

Except – he’s not anymore, is he? He saw to that well enough.

So you let it hurt. And you think you can just about make do with that.

“Hey, hon,” you dad gently calls, hanging on your doorframe. Your room is dark, drapes closed, the only light source the white light from your laptop.

“Hi,” you reply, with a break in your voice. Your eyes don’t lift from the screen. Jim just told Pam he’s in love with her, but she’s engaged to Roy. But she really loves Jim, she just won’t admit it. It’s cathartic, okay?

Dad steps into the room and awkwardly stuffs his hands into his jean pockets. “Awfully, uh…awfully quiet lately, hm? Everything okay?”

“Fine. Everything’s fine.”

It’s not a lie. You are fine. You’re so fine, you’re actually numb to it.

The problem is that for the last few weeks, you’ve been more than fine. The best you’ve felt in months – maybe even years. The most you’ve smiled, the hardest you’ve laughed. The warmest the blood has ever run through your veins.

And then you’re just – fine again. Back to nothing.

He shuffles between feet. Stares at the floor, where his shadow sprouts from his toes. “I was gonna head into town, grab a few things. You wanna come? Sit in the car with a book, maybe?”

“I’m good, Dad. Thanks.”

“Sure? Whatcha watchin’?”

“The Office.”

He nods. “Right, right. I, uh, I was thinkin’ of askin’ Joel and Sarah over for dinner tonight. You always have fun when they’re around. You and Sarah could spend some time together, y’know?”

Your heart nosedives straight from your chest into your stomach. The thought of seeing him again, this time crystal clear and not while under the influence of alcohol, drugs, or worse, sinks its sharp claws into your shoulders and sinks you deep underwater. His voice gets lost somewhere in the space between you. And when you finally come back up for air, back into the room, you gulp back whatever string of senseless words your empty chest initially offered up.

“Hm…” You pretend to consider the thought, then head straight for passive. “Whatever. Sure.”

Your dad’s mouth opens to respond, and you cut in again.

“I’m kinda tired,” you say, yawning. Trying to make him leave.

He’s not great at taking hints. “Kiddo, I am really worried about you. Weren’t you s’posed to be working this mornin’?”

“You ain’t gotta worry about me. I’m just a little tired, is all. Wasn’t feeling up to restocking tools and dealing hardwood to your buddies.”

It’s only the second truth you’ve told him since he set foot in your room. You never feel much like work, not Sal’s-fucking-Hardware-kinda work, anyway. But the thought of standing for seven hours with a bared-teeth grin plastered on your face, hands blistering from tearing open box after box of stock, shoulder slowly coming up in a bruise from the number of customers tapping on it…you figured Sal could do without you for one fucking day.

“You wanna look some more at other jobs?” Dad asks, and finally you look up. The blurry, luminous silhouette of Jim and Pam is strung in the dim air before him.

You shake your head. “Not right now. I have some bookmarked I can show you later.”

He takes a deep breath, unsure of which angle to come at you from next. Finally, with an air of resignation and defeat, he settles for, “You know where I am if you need me,” and closes your door as he leaves.

You’re staring intensely at the face of every character onscreen. The pixels burn into your eyes. You’re trying harder than anything to get him out of your head. It’s not working.

His hand through yours, his arms around you – warm, safe, protective; the way he smelled, sweet like whiskey, sharp like pine; the way he’d mumble, lips against your head, sweet nothings pressed into your hair; the feeling of his lips on yours, hungry for something only you knew how to give him. The look in his eyes, tender, knowing, loving.

And because he was the only other person fluent in your little secret language – a look, a nod, a tug at the corners of his mouth. His eyes settling on yours only for a nanosecond, one tiny moment in time laced with a thousand words that you translated as quickly as his glance moved across you. It all meant something. It all meant so fucking much.

All of it. You feel all of it as it sinks through your skin, through bone and into your brain. As it curls around your ribcage, holds tight around your heart. Every thought and feeling that flutters through on full display for him to read. And you’d let him, because it’s him. You trusted him. You – you might’ve even –

I mean, what the fuck, right? When the fuck did this happen?

Joel Miller. Joel fucking Miller.

Is this what you thought would happen that very first time you looked at him differently? Tidying up after pizza, leaning into you, telling you you’re nothin’ but trouble? Did he know then, that this was where you were headed?

Did you?

Your phone buzzes. You glance down at it through your tears.

Sarah: wtf is going on ???

You craft a reply as nonchalant as you can manage. Three little letters.

You: Wym?

Sarah: are u good??

You: Yeah lol. Why wouldn’t I be good

Sarah: idfk. weird. my dad’s on the phone to yours rn

That’s great. That’s just fucking great. He’s probably telling Joel right this second how miserable you are. That’s all you need.

You want to hold onto your pride, keep an air of casualness about you impermeable to even Sarah – but you desperately want to know what’s being said. What she’s listening to him say.

You: Yeah? What are they talking about?

Sarah: well now it’s just some andrew guy

Sarah: sounds like a loser

Sarah: we’re coming over for dinner tonight btw

You: Nice. See ya then

Sarah: u wanna come over here before? we can watch love island

You: I’m good. Gonna go for a nap

Sarah: you can nap here. come over!!!

You bury the phone under your pillow without replying. Sarah is like Joel in many ways, but her persistent nature is one avenue in which they drastically differ. Joel would – and has – give you space, let you mope; Sarah will probably text you all afternoon until she’s on your doorstep, takeout in one hand and a telling in the other.

So you drag your phone back out and put it on Do Not Disturb mode. She’s already sent two more texts since her last.

Sarah: seriously. would you come the fuck over. im only on episode 5 i gotta catch up

Sarah: even my dad is worried about you

Yeah. Good one, Joel. Fuckin’ asshole.

----------

They arrive at six on the dot, armed with pizza and a crate of beer. The doorbell rings once, you lean over a degree to glance down the hallway, and Sarah’s stepping over the threshold, her shadow of a father at her heels.

He’s rugged. Hair amok. He kinda looks a mess, sorta looks how you want him to after almost two weeks of no you. But he’s here. He’s right in front of you. And this time, the shape of him isn’t swimming across your glassy eyes.

Your heart swells with relief to see him again, only until it twinges from the wound that he caused, and it hurts all over again. You turn back in your stool to face the kitchen island, making some noncommittal noise when Sarah’s hand presses between your shoulder blades in greeting.

“Tyrique and Ella are kinda cute, but I don’t trust him. Dude’s gonna fuck her over for sure,” she mutters, shoving the box over the counter towards your dad, who accepts the beer from Joel with a pat on his arm.

He’s standing across the kitchen – Joel – as far as he can get from you. You’re sure his eyes haven’t lifted from the floor yet. But you scan him all over, from the loose collar of his shirt down to the cuffs, rolled halfway up his forearms; from the rough hair of his beard down to the soft tufts decorating the skin just below his clavicle.

You scan him all over. The body you know just as well with the flannel and jeans over it as you do without them. The body you’ve squeezed, and scratched, and bit and kissed – and the same one you’ve thrown curses and insults at as it follows you through his house.

If he looked you dead in the eye right now, you’re not sure you could look away. You’re not sure you could stop.

That is, until Sarah presses a chilled beer to your arm, startling you, and silently nods towards the dining table.

She sits on your right, opposite your dad’s seat. She resumes chittering about Love Island. Joel and your dad are still in the kitchen, stacking plates, cracking the caps off their drinks. And then he pushes off the counter, and slowly wanders over.

You watch his every move. Study him, like you’re about to be tested on it. Which foot he steps forward with – always his left – and which chair he’ll pick once he’s at the table – the one opposite you, ‘cause it faces the TV for when he and your dad watch baseball while eating.

Two for two.

He lifts the chair, pulls it back, and angles it to face Sarah’s. He places his beer gently on the mat. When he sits, he doesn’t pull in any closer. Doesn’t risk your legs crossing paths under the table. You pull your knees up, let your shins rest against the wooden ledge. Your dad takes Joel up in conversation.

“So, this Andrew. He’s the brains of the operation?”

The pizza is slowly pulled apart over the course of an excruciating hour-long meal. Sarah puts the next episode of Love Island on while you eat, points out her favorite couples and nudges you to ask your opinion on the girls’ outfits.

“Wouldn’t have gone with those heels,” she mutters, chewing, pointing with her pizza crust to some six-inch ankle-breakers.

You lean past her shoulder every now and then to pretend you’re as engaged as she is. Pretend you’re listening. Your left ear is tuned into the conversation happening across the table.

Your dad thinks Andrew Curtis is fucking hilarious. Hoots with laughter when Joel tells him about his untucked button up. Says, Oh, jeepers, when he hears about the way the guy tripped jumping down from his truck.

The storyteller doesn’t sound so lively opposite. Your dad’s slapping his thigh with laughter. Joel’s shoulders are jerking at best. You dare a glance at him, and he’s already facing your direction. He turns away before your eye reaches his chest.

Soon, the episode ends. The atmosphere dies arm in arm with your dad’s attempt at another conversation. There’s a thick silence between the four of you. You haven’t opened your mouth the entire meal, but even if you did, the tension would clamp its heavy hand over your lips, blocking any words from making their way out of your windpipe.

Sarah clears her throat, manages a tentative, “I –” and then the phone rings, piercing through the awkward mist like a bolt of lightning.

Your dad pushes himself up and trots over, grabbing the handset a little too hastily. “Hello? Oh, hi, Rita. Hi. Yeah. Yep, Joel’s – Sarah? She’s here, yep.”

Sarah’s head drops, hand gripping her glass frozen in mid-air. “Fuck,” she whispers, and Joel shoots her a look across the table.

“She’s – oh, yeah? Well, let me ask ‘er.” Your dad covers the bottom of the handset with a huge palm. “Rita has some…cross –”

“Cross stitch, yeah, I know,” Sarah says, and thuds her glass down. “I said I’d help her out with it. I bet she’s seen your damn truck across the street!” She jabs a furious finger at her dad.

Joel shrugs. “Ain’t my fault the woman has eyes.”

Your body jerks as if to laugh. You don’t catch it in time. He notices.

“She’s on her way over, Rita,” your dad continues, nervously smiling at Sarah as she pulls her jacket over her shoulder. “She’s – oh, sure, I’ll let her know. Alright, now. Bye, Rita, bye. You’ve to bring your glasses. ‘pparently the pattern’s pretty small. You even wear glasses?”

She huffs in response. “I’m gonna be there all damn night. I’ll just get you at home.”

Joel opens his mouth to protest, goes to warn her that she ain’t walkin’ home alone in the damn dark, but your dad holds his hand out.

“We’ll give you a ride home. You come back here once you’re done.”

She nods gratefully and struts off down the hallway. The door slams shut behind her.

Your dad lightly chuckles, sauntering back over to his seat. “And then there were three…” he says, sitting back down.

But the loss of Sarah only cranes the spotlight over to you. Only you. No one else to split it with. No one else to lend it to. You can feel your dad’s eyes on you, waiting for you to make a move, some song and dance for your company.

He lifts his beer to his lips. Nods to you. Makes a song and dance of his fucking own, when he says, “Guess who’s been lookin’ at grad jobs?”

Joel stares at him for a second, like he’s waiting for your dad to reveal who it is he means. Like it can’t possibly be the only she in the room. His thumbs tap around his own bottle. “Oh – yeah?” he stammers, and throws a haphazard glance in your direction. He seems to mean to address you.

You sit forward, choke out a, “Yeah, uh – it’s – well. Kinda.”

“Film?” he asks, and you hear the rest of the question in the tone of his voice. Somethin’ you like, ‘n not just your dad’s suggestion?

You nod, but he’s not looking. He’s studying the label of his beer.

“Film,” your dad confirms. “Shut me the hell up, didn’t she? Came downstairs with her laptop the other night. Where is it, kiddo – New York?”

Your breath catches. The answer cowers at the back of your mouth, terrified to show itself. You force it forward.

“LA.”

Joel’s eyebrows lift.

“I said she might be better goin’ back to school. Reapply for next year, right?” Dad looks to you, and your lips pull in an awkward smile. “…but she didn’t wanna wait around. Told you the other day – this place is like prison.”

He chuckles, but Joel isn’t laughing. He’s staring at his beer, his brows slowly lowering from arched and curious to dark and furrowed. And you want to reach for his hand, want to shoo your dad off and spill your guts to his best friend. Want to explain yourself, show him the webpages and application forms you’ve spent the last few days surfing through – want to justify yourself to him.

But so long as your father is sat here, bumbling to himself about the prices of college courses these days – none of that happens. You simply sit in a stalemate opposite one another – a million thoughts racing through your head, a million and one racing through Joel’s.

“…might change her mind, but who knows? She’s skittish, this one, she –”

Another bleating ringtone cuts what you’re sure would’ve been an endearing compliment short. You say a silent prayer of gratitude for whoever’s at the other end of the line. Your dad sighs and heaves himself up again, swiping the phone from the kitchen counter.

“Hello? Hi, hi, Richard. No, I’m not – well, it’s – sure, sure. What’s –?”

His head falls in much the same way Sarah’s did ten minutes ago. He sighs.

“Right. No, that’s quite alright. I can be there in ten. Yep. Alright. See you in a – hello?”

He drops the phone back into its cradle and runs a hand down the back of his neck, growling.

“Kelman?” Joel asks, jaw turning to his shoulder.

“You bet. Misplaced the damn keys for his site. You two alright if I head on over there ‘n lock up for ‘im?”

“He familiar with Andrew Curtis at all?” Joel quips, and then waves your dad off. “Go on. I’ll be outta your hair by the time you get back.”

In a frenzied blur, your dad’s tying his laces, grabbing his keys, tossing a jacket over his shoulders. He apologizes a total of four times to Joel, thanks him for dinner, promises he’ll pay him back next time he sees him. And then he’s jogging off to the front door, and taking every ounce of comfortability with him.

And then there were two.

You slouch back in your chair, listening through the silence as your dad’s car engine fades down the street. When the quiet humming disappears, Joel’s head turns back to face you.

You’re alone again. For the first time in a week. This is the closest you’ve felt him, even separated by the dining table and a fog of conversation that you have no idea how to begin clearing. There’s more weight to the silence between you than words could ever bear, you know that much. More to be communicated between your eyes than your tongues know the language of. But still, you can see him through it.

Like a lighthouse, shining bright and beckoning you to the shoreline. You can feel him again, as if there’s an electric pulse radiating off of him. And you feel drawn in, like you always do; feel that magnetic pull in your chest, only ever satiated by the meeting of Joel’s.

You shift in your seat. His eyes flit up. Your heart jumps, like it’s a sign he’s really still in there. And then they drop back to his lap, and your chest sews itself back together.

Your eyes start to burn with fast-forming tears. Your throat tightens, tightens, tightens, pushing them higher and higher until they pool across your waterline. Blinking doesn’t help, just drops them onto your cheeks, to be quickly swept away by the sleeve of your hoodie.

All you want is for him to look you in the eye, whisper, C’mere, baby, scoop you up and hold you in his arms forever. Fuck everything you said about the distance being good. That was when he was in his house, and you were in yours. He’s here, right now. He’s sat across from you. You’re finally on your own again. And he’s not fucking looking at you.

You let your legs down and sit up straight in your chair. It’s small, but it feels like a necessary step to silently tell him that you’re in the room with him. You’re here.

It lifts his eyes again. Not to you, but to your empty plate. Then, to the wet stain on your sleeve. You hope it stabs his heart a little.

From the shaky breath he sucks in, it seems to hurt just enough. He clears his throat. Pulls his gaze higher, higher, a little higher, until you’re eye to eye.

A wave of feeling, either burning hot or freezing cold – you can’t tell the difference – stretches across your body. It’s unnerving, and yet calming. It’s soothing on your wound, and irritating all the same. He’s looking at you. You wonder if he can see you.

You stare at one another for a few moments, drinking it all in. You can see him clear as day. You can almost see the shadows of his thoughts as they dance across the frosted-glass windows of his hazel eyes.

He blinks. Breathes in deep through his nose. And then speaks.

“LA, huh?”

You scoff. You don’t fucking mean to, but it’s the opposite of what you expected – and kind of wanted – him to say. Your whole body relaxes, though – finally relieved of the tension of the last seven days, even if only for a moment.

You feel lighter, like someone kicked the door down and this is the first gulp of clean air in your lungs. It’s small, insignificant even, but it does what it needs to.

Which is – it gives you the energy to answer back.

“It’s not a concrete plan. Yet.”

“Yet,” he repeats.

“I’m not running from you, if that’s what you’re thinking. Get your head out of your ass.”

He wants to laugh. He should’ve expected it.

“I didn’t say anythin’. I think…I think it sounds like a good plan. ‘n you’d be close by to Sarah, so.”

This conversation feels like you’ve been left alone for ten minutes with your dad’s buddy. Sanitized. Surgical. Which would’ve been what it was little over a month ago, but it’s not now. Now, it’s totally different. There’s more than just that one neat string between you.

You’ve held his hand. You’ve kissed him. You’ve touched him, in ways you’ve only ever touched a handful of people. And even then – none of those times have been anything like the way you’ve touched Joel. You’ve tasted him, you’ve felt him as he climaxes somewhere deep inside you. You’ve pulled him into your body, over and over; you’ve let him have you in ways nobody else has.

There exists a complicated, messy web of history and emotion, woven tight between you. The weight of it bears down on the surface of the dining table.

And he’s talking to you about fucking grad jobs.

“Could you just – stop fucking with me?” you ask, sincerely. You’re not angry, you’re not hurt. Not anymore.

Joel lifts his chin. Studies your face. “I’m not fucking with you.”

“Yes, you are. You’re talking to me about some job, like there’s nothing else to talk about. Like there ain’t nothin’ else we might have to discuss.”

His response is resigned. Bored, even. “What else do you wanna discuss?”

You narrow your eyes. “Oh, um, I don’t fucking know. Last week?”

Joel takes a swig of beer. You take it as reply enough.

“I don’t have any clue where you’re at, Joel. You pick me up from Frank’s, beat a dude up for me, put me to bed, ‘n then when I wake up, you’re gone. Oh, but you left your fuckin’ shirt. By accident? Or for me? Who the fuck am I to know?”

He holds back a smile. “I had work.”

“Right,” you nod, “Andrew Curtis.”

“That guy’s an idiot. You’d probably like ‘im.”

“I bet. I’m fond of idiots, apparently.”

This time, he can’t hold it back. A smirk spreads across his lips, soft and shy, but there. Right there. You could reach out and fucking touch it.

And then he nods. Leans back in his chair, folds his arms, and nods. The smile begins to fade.

With it, goes the breathing space between you. The fog starts to thicken again. The web tightens some more. Your chest begins to ache. Things feel normal for all of two minutes, and then they’re back to awkward air so heavy that you can feel it on your shoulders, feel it forcing you into a slump in your chair.

This whole thing is built on lies. Lies on top of lies on top of lies. The only truth there has ever been has been between the two of you. Two lonely figures, wrapped in each other’s arms in the eye of a storm. So –

Fuck it.

You sniff. “I thought – that the most we were risking was my dad. I thought the worst that could happen was him findin’ out.”

Your voice is quiet. Unsure of itself. One word carrying you to the next, not totally sure where you’re going with it.

“I didn’t know I was risking losing you, too, and now…now, you’re just gone. Like, you don’t wanna talk to me, you barely wanna look at me. I don’t…I don’t have you anymore, and it’s all fucked up. Do you know, I – I wouldn’ta done any of it if I thought you’d go?”

Joel flinches. Tightens the hold on his arms.

“I want you to come back,” you say, stronger this time. Louder. Clearer. You’re ignoring the tears sweeping across your vision. “Just come back. You don’t even – you don’t even have to touch me or nothin’. We can just hang out and talk, we don’t have to…we don’t have to do anything.”

Your voice wobbles by the end. Your lips tighten around it, shutting it off before you can say anything more to embarrass yourself.

Joel’s still quiet. He watches wordlessly as you stand, pile the plates atop one another and make for the kitchen. As you place them gently into the sink, you feel the weight of him behind you, reaching over to set the bottles alongside them.

“I ain’t gone anywhere,” he murmurs, and you twist to face him.

“Joel. This is the most we’ve touched in two weeks. Putting dishes in the sink.”

He repeats himself. Adds, “I’m still here. I still care about you.”

You shrug. “Then – show me.”

He steps back. “Show you,” he scoffs. Your expression doesn’t shift. “Show you? Like I didn’t just almost break my damn knuckles defendin’ you? Take you home in the dead a’ night, deal with all your drunk bickerin’?”

Your head tilts. He’s right. But you want more than that. More than spitting threats and leaving flannels behind. You want his hands, and his lips, and his voice. You want –

“…Lord, mighty me.”

Your dad’s voice follows the sudden jolt of the front door opening. You and Joel are already five feet apart by the time his body appears around the corner, one hand leaning on the wall, the other pinching the bridge of his nose.

“How on Earth that man has his own construction company, I have no idea. Called me halfway to the site ‘n said he found the keys in his damn pocket.”

“Always the scatterbrains,” Joel says, leaning casually against the counter.

“Sure is. You ‘n me oughta start our own, show ‘em all how it’s done. Anyways. What’d I miss?”

Before you can answer, Joel’s speaking again. He sounds in a hurry. “Just tidyin’ up. We were talkin’ about graduate programs, actually. You know what,” he turns to you, “I’m sure Sarah has some old brochures from UCLA. Might have some stuff worth checkin’ out. You wanna come get ‘em?”

It takes a second for you to realize he’s talking to you. His eyebrows are arched, his thumb pointing over his shoulder. He came up with the lie so damn quick, you have whiplash.

“I – yeah, sure. Yeah.”

Your dad runs his tongue between his teeth. “UCLA. Huh. Well, don’t keep Joel too late.”

“I w…I won’t,” you reply, following at the heels of the swaggering figure towards the door. You dodge his eye contact and dip your head behind Joel’s shoulder, thankful for his protective stance in front of you.

Your dad doesn’t say anything more – instead, he stands back and lets Joel lead you out. You steal a glance back at him as you slip through the door. His face unreadable, his eyes stick on Joel; locked tight on the flannel wandering down the driveway ahead of you. The word loops in your head as though the phone’s ringing again. Guilty guilty guilty guilty guilt–

But then the night breeze is dancing across your cheeks, and you’re following at the heels of Joel again, and you feel light as air in the wake of him. You climb into the passenger side of the truck and watch as he settles alongside you with a sigh. He pulls out of the drive, and his right hand sits idly on his thigh. You think to take it. Joel reads your mind.

He sits it on the armrest between you, palm facing up. You stare straight ahead and let your fingers slip through his. He knots your bodies together, thumb rubbing gently on your knuckle.

Another pound of weight lifts from your shoulders.

----------

Joel drives for twenty minutes before pulling up in an empty parking lot across from a church. It’s pitch-black and deserted. There’s a single streetlight over by the corner, illuminating a trashcan and not much else. You’re shrouded in darkness, save for the soft glow from the lights on the dash.

He switches the engine off and sits back in his seat. Your hands are separated. The distance between you slowly starts to grow again.

“LA,” he says, for the second time tonight, staring at the ceiling of the cabin.

“LA,” you echo, staring at him.

He looks down to you. Smiles. There’s something behind it. You can’t tell what.

“It’s not a grad job,” you say, forcing something up. Your fingers are twisting around the drawstring of your hoodie. “I was lookin’ at grad stuff, but there wasn’t anything I was into. The LA thing is a six-month temp job I saw.”

Joel nods. “What’s that look like?”

“Production assistant. Lots of behind-the-scenes stuff.”

“Mhm. Sounds like your thing.”

Your brows jump as you pull the tie around your finger. The tip turns white. “Might be. Job ad closes on Monday.”

He sucks in a breath. “Better get applyin’, then.”

Your head cocks. “So eager for me to go?”

“Eager for you to do somethin’ you love,” he corrects.

“But it would get me outta your hair.”

“I don’t want you outta my hair.”

A smirk sneaks its way across your lips. You nod to the view from the windshield. “Why are we way the hell out here?”

“Because your dad bombed our conversation, ‘n I figured we weren’t done.”

“Then talk.”

He licks his lips. Folds his arms, settles deeper into his seat. He turns a little more to face you. The single light from outside catches in his iris, like that same lighthouse beacon you could see earlier. Distant, far off, but there. Still there.

“I owe you an apology,” he says. “I…I thought what we were doin’…What I was doin’…I thought I was causing you more hurt ‘n harm than good. I was scared it’d gone too far. Scared it wasn’t okay anymore.”

“Was it ever okay?”

He shifts again, uncomfortably. In the dim light, you see his face pull. He squints, wobbles his head in consideration. “No. It wasn’t. But we did it anyways, you ‘n me. We made that decision together.”

“Right. And then you went and made the complete opposite decision, alone.”

He’s nodding. He knows. And you think you know, too. It fucking sucked, losing him – but you get it. What was the big plan? How far were you going to let it go? Someone had to pull the plug at some point. Someone had to cut the thing loose.

You lean closer to him. “I just…I wish you’d let me fight back a little. Wish you’d heard me out more. I know what we’ve done isn’t right. I know that. But I – I fucking –”

You sigh. It leaves your mouth shaky and unsure of itself.

There’s something more. Something at the back of your tongue, itching to separate into the dense space between you. Bigger. Stronger. Heavier.

“I missed you,” you concede, shaking your head. “That’s all.”

Joel’s eyes fall shut with a wince when you say it, like it physically hurts to hear the words come out of your mouth. But he’s clearer, now – the fog is slowly shrinking away. The words behind his eyes seem to light them in a warm glow. Missed you too, baby.

His hand opens up on the armrest again. Yours falls into it instantly.

He clears his throat then, and says, “Also owe you an apology for – for the Lois thing. I know I should’ve explained a lot sooner, ‘n I’m sorry I had you thinkin’ what you were thinkin’. I didn’t – I didn’t know it was such a big deal to you. Thought you’d know I wouldn’t…do that.”

“I think I did,” you tell him. Your nails run up and down his fingers. “Deep down. Wasn’t so much about her as it was about me.”

“About you?”

You shrug. “Yeah. Me, us, this. It was more of a, Why wouldn’t he want someone like her?, y’know? No lying, no secrets. And she’s old, like you.”

“Easy.”

You smile. “She’s nice. I know she is. My dad went on for five whole minutes about how good you’d be together when I asked ‘im. So – why wouldn’t you wanna be with her, right?”

It’s rhetorical. Joel knows. But he answers it anyways.

“She is nice,” he agrees, “but I ain’t interested. To tell you the truth, darlin’, I was a little preoccupied worrying my ass off about you to even look twice at the woman.”

You freeze for a second. Stare at the outline of his jaw, the jagged bristles of his beard; the soft sweep of hair silhouetted by the moonlight outside. He’s still Joel – even in the darkness, even in the fog. Even when you can’t see, hear, or touch him – he’s still there. Thinking about you. Worrying about you.

“Well,” you sniff, “you don’t gotta worry anymore. I just…I didn’t like the thought of it.”

His head tilts. Beckons you to continue.

You sigh. “I don’t want you…with…anyone else. I want you to…only want me.”

His brows straighten. You sit in silence, staring at one another. Both daring the other to be the first to talk. But it’s his turn, and he knows it. So he swallows, and says –

“I don’t want nobody else.”

And that’s a thing. A great big, terrible thing.

“But,” he continues, almost immediately, “this has gotta be – I’ve gotta do right by you. Gotta be honest, now –”

“Wait,” you interrupt, “can you just – stop acting like it’s all you?”

Joel falls quiet. His brows knit together.

“Stop saying things that make it sound like you’re the only one in this. I’m in it, too. I want it. I want you.”

“Baby, it’s not as simple as –”

“Joel,” you take his arms and pull yourself closer to him, legs propped against the center console, “I want you. This. I want us. All of it, I want all –”

Your body is being tugged closer to him, lifted nearer, and his chin bumps against yours, and his eyelashes almost brush against yours when your foreheads link, and his breath sweeps hot and needy across yours, and he – he kisses you.

You stop breathing. You don’t care whether or not it ever comes back. Oxygen replaced by him. Everything replaced by him.

His tongue slips past your lips, his hand glides across your hair to cup the back of your head. He locks you into his body, lets you rest your arms across his shoulders. Your lips find a rhythm against one another; warm, wet, tender.

His free hand cups your cheek, holds your mouth to his just a second longer, before he pulls away, and gives you one last kiss. Softest of them all. Seals the fucking deal.

“We okay?” he mumbles, and you lift your head from his palm. You sit frozen for a second, just looking at him. Looking and looking and looking.

“We’re good.”

He smiles then. A genuine smile. “I thought,” he whispers, glancing around the quiet parking lot, “I could take you on a date.”

So that’s why he brought you out here.

“A date?”

“Mhm. Never been on one, have we?”

“Never could.”

He nods in agreement. “Just ice cream. For now. Thought I’d show you some of my moves.”

“You got moves?” you snicker.

“I’m a catch, darlin’. The ladies swoon for me.”

“Alright, never say that to me again.”

Joel laughs. “There’s a place right around the corner. ‘s go.”

He climbs out of the truck and wanders off towards the sidewalk, and you follow. He looks down at you as you walk. His cheeks swell with the smile on his face, dimples at the edges of his lips.

It’s quiet; quieter than you’d expect, not that you’re complaining. With the sun almost set, you’re doused in light only when you wander under a streetlight. So, it’s no surprise when Joel’s eyes quickly scan the street up ahead, and his hand reaches down for yours.

Your stomach flips. You’re doing everything you can not to let him feel your pulse in your wrist, but you’re pretty sure you can, because he leans his shoulder against yours and asks if you’re okay.

“Good,” you choke out, relieved to have just passed a streetlight that might give away the blush on your cheeks.

Approaching on the right is a sickly-sweet, pastel-painted store front; fairy lights decorating the window, wireframe tables and chairs dotted outside. A bell dings when Joel pushes the door open, holding it open for you to step inside.

It’s…dainty. Sweet. Everything is either teal or pink or white. There’s a giant ice cream cone stood in the corner. There’s a gumball machine opposite it. The lighting is a little garish – kind of reminds you of sitting in the dentist chair, eyes squinting up at the bright white light overhead.

You’re fucking surprised to be stood in here with Joel Miller, of all people. He sticks out like a sore thumb; his worn jeans and crumpled flannel against the minty gleam of the parlor like an earthy tree sprouting in the middle of that same dentist’s office. It makes you giggle, as he leads you over to the counter.

A boy with a teal uniform meets him over a glass case full of different ice cream flavors. His name badge reads Ben. “What can I get you?” he asks, scoop in hand. Your lips press against one another to stop your laugh from escaping.

Joel turns to look at you. He nudges you with his elbow when you don’t return his glance, too focused on Ben’s pink baseball cap, the logo of the shop printed on top.

“Uh,” you consider, glancing down, “I’m good with any.”

Joel sighs, lips thinning. “Am I gonna pick a flavor, ‘n then you decide you don’t like it?”

“Nope. Promise.” You smile innocently, and he turns back to the server.

“I’ll take one scoop of the cookie dough, and, uh…one of the coffee, please.”

When Ben dips to scoop the order into two little tubs, you mock gasp at Joel.

“What?”

“Coffee?”

He shrugs.

“I took you for a vanilla man.”

Ben stands straight and punches some numbers into the cash register. Joel hands him a ten.

“What about me makes you think I’m into vanilla?” he asks in a low voice.

You bat your eyelashes at him. A dark thought crosses your mind, but you think better of voicing it and save Ben the embarrassment of potentially hearing you.

Joel thanks him and takes both tubs in one hand. You make for a booth by the window, but his hand quickly slinks around your waist, diverting you back to the door.

“Nuh-uh.”

“What?” you ask, spinning around.

Joel continues walking, backing you out of the shop. “I am not sittin’ in here. Got a fuckin’ headache already from five minutes in the place.”

“But it’s so cute,” you protest, giggling. “You don’t want your picture taken with the giant cone?”

“Get the hell out,” he mumbles, shoving you across the tiled floor back out to the sidewalk. He can’t mask his own grin, spilling out behind you, taking your hand in his.

You snort as he drags you back along the street. “Maybe I should forget about LA and get a job in there. Drive myself insane.”

“Maybe you should,” Joel agrees. “Least then you’d have an excuse for it.”

You slap his chest. “Where are we goin’?”

“’s just go back to the truck. Quieter. Less fluorescent lights.”

He unlocks it a few paces away, but you stroll past your door.

“What are you doin’?” Joel asks when you pull yourself up into the bed.

“C’mon,” you call back, settling against the back window, “it’s a nice night. Who are we hiding from?”

He tosses it over in his head and cocks one eyebrow. Fair enough. He climbs up and passes you the ice cream, shrugging his shirt from his shoulders. He throws it over your bare legs and sits down beside you, grunting as he does.

You smirk when he rests back.

“I’m almost fifty, darlin’,” he warns, reaching for his tub.

Your lips curve and you nod, digging the little plastic spoon into your dessert. You stretch your legs out and cross your ankles, watching in quiet contentment as the cars roll by, squealing to a halt at the traffic lights. Lights are coming on in windows, curtains are being drawn. Joel’s legs lie against yours, joined at the hip, shoulders brushing off one another.

This is the most peace you’ve had in a fortnight. Sat in the back of his truck, no eyes on you, watching the comings and goings of some back street in the city. You talk about nothing, for the first time in what’s felt like forever. You talk about films, and music, and all the stuff that seemed so unimportant before. Now, it all feels imperative. Feels like a life-or-death thing. What’s your favorite movie? You know my favorite movie, baby. But tell me again. Just so I know for sure. Just so that – if anything happens.

You listen when he answers. You watch his mouth as he says the words. For all the times you took it for granted before. For all the times you thought it was insignificant. It’s all significant, now. It all means something. It’s just more strings to the web between you, each one knotting you closer and closer together.

And you talk about what you’ve missed. The two weeks you’ve spent apart. You catch him up as if he was only gone on vacation. As if he was always meant to come back in the end.

“The guy with the weed – same guy you punched – he was –” gulp, “– what was his name again? Knicks? No –”

Joel snorts, spoon scraping around the edge the tiny pot in his huge hand. “Knicks?”

You close your eyes, waving your hand like it’ll urge him to remember the name of a guy he took no time getting to know before he floored him. “No, it wasn’t Kn…Knox! It was Knox, and he –”

“Kind of a fuckin’ name is Knox? Knox?”

“Are you gonna let me talk, or what?” you quip, and Joel brings his wrist up to his mouth to mask his laugh.

“Sorry, sorry, sweetheart. Go ahead. Knox had the weed.”

“Knox had the weed, and…he…Fuck, I can’t even remember where I was goin’ with that.” You shake your head and lean it back against the windowpane.

He laughs. For real. A Joel laugh. His shoulders jerk with the force of it. “You were gonna tell me about his friends, I think. Somethin’ about his friends.”

It sparks back up in your brain – the memory. “Right! Right. His friends – that dude with the glasses? That was Zack.”

Joel stares at you blankly, tongue in his cheek. “Zack?”

“Big guy, red face. Buck teeth. From Costco?”

His jaw slackens. He remembers. “I fuckin’ – I knew I’d seen that kid’s face before. That was him?”

You nod. Uhuh.

“Damn.” He chuckles. “He looked at me like I was a wild bear.”

You toss your head, roll your eyes. “Well.”

He laughs again. Knocks your legs with his own.

“Good call, by the way,” your lips mumble around the shape of your spoon, “cookie dough. it’s nice.”

“Wanna try mine?”

“Really?” Your face contorts, eyes screwing. “Coffee?”

“’s good. Here.”

He holds out a spoonful.

“Yeah, nice to you, who drinks, like, thirty of ‘em a day.”

Joel responds by pushing the spoon to your lips and you oblige, opening up and letting him feed you the ice cream.

It’s not bad. It’s ice cream, it can’t be bad. But it definitely isn’t good, and the way your lips purse and your neck jerks lets Joel know exactly how you feel about it. He scoffs, wiping a little from your lips with his thumb and sucking it clean.

“You don’t like it?”

“Why is it…bitter? Eugh.”

He laughs to himself as he loads up another spoonful. “It’s an acquired taste.”

“Well, I am not interested in acquirin’ it. You want some of the cookie dough?”

He shakes his head. “You enjoy.”

You both turn back to the street ahead. Joel’s arm is warm at the side of yours, his shoulder right there for you to lean your head on.

He places a kiss to your head when you do.

“What do you think he’d do if he found out?”

You’re not sure where it comes from. Neither is Joel, apparently, from the way he clears his throat and squirms ever so slightly. He knows exactly who you mean.

“I, uh…I don’t like to imagine.”

“It scare you?”

He takes a deep breath. “Naw. I just got better things to do with my imagination, is all.” He prods your arm with his. Picturin’ you.

“Ha. You reckon he’d kill you?”

“Probably.”

“He couldn’t kill you. Wild bear.”

“Well, I reckon he might try.”

“I think he’d call the cops.”

Joel’s head lifts from yours and falls back against the truck with a laugh.

“Help, Officer,” you mimic your dad’s twang,“my grown adult daughter is sleeping with someone!”

Joel’s shoulders slowly stop moving.

“Is that all we’re doin’?” he asks.

“Huh?” You lift your head and look at him. His dark eyes reflect the city lights in the distance.

“Is that all we’re doin’? Sleepin’ together?” His voice is gentle, honest. Genuinely asking, seeking out what you think.

You consider it, tryna sound casual. You know what he’s getting at.

“That’s all we’ve been doin’. Help, Officer, my daughter’s grabbing ice cream with someone? Better?”

He hums. Looks down at the empty tub in his hands. Looks back up to your lips. Draws nearer to you, holds your chin with one finger, looks you dead in the eye, and whispers,

“How about, Help, Officer, my daughter made someone fall in love with her?”

Your breath catches. Your hands fall limp into your lap. You blink away tears.

“You – No, that’s – You gotta say it. You gotta actually tell me, ‘cause I’m not – I don’t wanna misinterpret – We haven’t –”

You’re buffering. Your brain malfunctioning. Your tongue can’t decide which of the words at the back of your throat, all desperate to escape, to let through first.

Joel’s just smiling, watching you stutter and stammer your way through a sentence that leads you nowhere, desperately trying to compute what he’s just said because he’s finally fucking admitted it. He’s finally letting you know, giving you access to a part of him he’s been keeping from you for who knows how long.

Even though all this time it’s been the one thought running through your head that hasn’t passed your lips, it reverberates around your ears like it’s the last thing you ever expected him to say.

Joel’s hand moves to your neck, just below your ear. “Baby,” his thumb rubs your skin, “you know I love you.”

A gasp flees from your lips. Your ice cream is thrown to the truck bed, probably spilling over, and you don’t care. You leap into his lap, arms around his neck, and kiss him all over.

Joel’s laughing, returning what kisses he can, squeezing you with his big hands.

“I love you,” he says again when you come up for air, and it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard in your life. You sit your forehead against his, whispering breathlessly,

“Fuck, I love you, too.”

You two stare at each other, eyes scanning every part of the other’s face, mapping every mark, line, scar, like it’s the first time you’ve ever seen each other.

Guess it is, right?

This is the first time you’re looking at the man you love and you’re not afraid of it. The first time your chest swells and you don’t gulp it back, the first time you let him feel your heart pounding against the wall of your chest.

It’s the first time you look into his eyes, dark eyelashes and fine lines decorating deep warm brown, and think those three words…and know you can say them. Know neither of you will be spooked, neither of you will try to push them back down where they came from.

I love you. That’s all there is between you now. Your cards are flat on the table, Joel’s, too. Game over. You know everything there is to know about each other. You know each other.

You’ve sunk down his body, turned so your back curves into his chest, his chin resting on your head. Safely encased in his body, sat between his thighs. His hand runs up and down your thigh, lighting drawing lines and circles and writing words you don’t care to guess, ‘cause you probably already know ‘em.

Love hums between the two of you, keeping you warm; your bodies pressed together, hearts beating just inches apart. You blink your eyes open and the single streetlight sails back into your vision – bright as the moon, stirring you from your tranquil bliss.

“Do you,” you turn, and Joel fixes your hair, presses his lips to your forehead, “do you tell all the girls that on the first date? Was that just one of your moves?”

He snorts, and answers by pulling you in to give you a tender kiss.

No. Just you.

“You ready to go?” he asks when your lips part.

“Mhm. Take me home, cowboy.”

----------

His house is dark against the dusky sky. The headlights illuminate the garage door as he pulls up in the drive, squeezing your hand once as the truck comes to a halt.

“And then…” Joel says, holding a finger up to you. Wait right here.

He gets out of the driver’s side and you watch the shadow of him jog around the truck, stopping at your door. He opens it, and holds a hand out for you to take.

You choke on a laugh. “That is…”

“That is what?”

“…so cheesy. You really do that?”

“Uhuh. C’mon.”

Your fingers lace through his and you hop out of the truck. Joel shuts the door behind you and extends his elbow, and you link your arm through his. His hand warmly rests on top of yours.

You both wander over to his porch where he stops, letting you walk up the steps alone. When you reach the top one, only just taller than him on the path, hands still interlinked, you look down.

“Then I say, Thank you for a lovely evenin’, and,” he lifts your hand, pressing his lips to your knuckles, “then…” Joel holds his arms out. Voila. Just like that.

“Wow. I feel…honored.”

“You should.”

“Not even a proper kiss?”

“I just kissed your hand, baby. You didn’t like that?”

“You don’t ask to come inside?”

He scoffs. “Nope. What would I want to come inside for?”

You grin. Shrug your shoulders. Start walking backward to his door.

“Well, I am exhausted after our date, Mr. Miller. I do think,” yawn, “I should be gettin’ ready for bed.”

Joel lowers his head, eyes trained on you, smirk growing on his lips. “Is that so?”

You nod.

He starts to climb the steps.

“I’m sure I’ll be expectin’ a call from you,” you mewl, exaggerated Southern accent crooning to him. Your back bumps against the front door. Joel’s on the porch now. You bite your lip.

“Oh, I’m sure you will,” he returns, his shadow creeping over you. He reaches your body and his arms come to rest on the frame right above your head.

You hook your hands around his shoulders.

“You really don’t wanna come in?” you whisper, and his jaw ticks.

“I wouldn’t want to be ungentlemanly.”

Leaning in, lips against his ear, you whisper soft enough to shake the breath as it falls from his lips.

“And what if I asked you, nicely, to take me inside and fuck me good ‘n hard until I can’t walk?”

Joel’s eyes pool black when you lean away, head resting back on his door. Your gaze is heavy with lust, eyelashes batting slowly.

“Hm,” he grumbles, body beginning to press against yours. His head cocks. “You don’t wanna be treated like a lady?”

“Nope.” You smirk, hand falling down to cup the bulge quickly forming below his belt.

“Want to be treated like a fuckin’ whore, do ya?”

Chest heaving, you nod, massaging him.

“So dirty, darlin’, feelin’ your date up on the porch,” he tells you, dipping his jaw to run his lips along your neck. “What ‘m I gonna do with you?”

You shrug again, and your fingers find the door handle at your hip. You push, and the wood behind you falls inward.

As you plunge into the dark house, Joel’s rough hands clamp down on your waist, taking you in his tight grip and throwing you against the wall. His lips find your neck, teeth scraping the sensitive skin, tongue caressing tenderly as he sucks a bruise into you. Heat spreads across your core. You clench your thighs around the feeling.

“Joel,” you whine, hands surfing through his hair. “Fuck, take me upstairs.”

He hums. He’s going to. He’s just not doing it quick enough.

You lift your leg to his hip, and his left hand scoops under your ass. He pulls your center flat against the swelling in his jeans, ruts slowly against your body. You hear a deep groan from his throat.

“Upstairs,” you say again, growing impatient, and he growls, taking you with both hands and lifting you two steps at a time towards his bedroom.

He kicks the door open, loosening his grip on you as he walks over to the bed. Light streams across the room in splinters, peering through the shades from the streetlights outside. Your legs drop and you dance along on your toes, turning him midway until his calves hit the bottom of his mattress.

Your lips part for mere seconds, allowing one reflected expression between you, before you’re pushing him by the chest onto the bed. His body springs when he hits the sheets, staring back up at yours between his legs. His breath courses from his mouth, thick with want and need.

You lay him flat on the mattress, knees either side of his waist, hands curved over his shoulders. His own find your waist, holding on tight as you straddle him, playing with the tie of your shorts when you settle.

You dip your head and brush your lips against his. One long, sweet kiss, and his hands are at the hem of your hoodie, pulling it free, lifting it over your head. You groan as it separates your bodies, let your tongue find his again as quickly as it was pulled apart from it.

“Let me see,” he whispers against your lips, hands slipping beneath the fabric of your shorts to rub circles into your hipbones.

You smile as you straighten, fingers dancing along the hem of your tee.

“Let me – see,” Joel grunts, when your core grinds into his.

You peel the tight fabric from your stomach, higher, higher, until it lifts your breasts, catching on the curve of them, and as you whip it over your head, they bounce back down. Joel groans from below, staring at the perfect peaked shape. He lifts one hand to cup your tit, runs his thumb over the quickly-hardening nipple.

“So fuckin’ pretty, baby.”

“I know,” you tell him, watching as his thumbpad circles the delicate skin. Your back arches into his touch.

And then his hands sink into the mattress either side of his body, pushing himself closer to you. He wraps a strong arm around your back and pulls your chest to his mouth, lips pressing wet kisses to the valley between your breasts. His teeth graze across the round shape up towards your nipple again.

His tongue slips over the hard bud, swirling and soaking all over it. Your head falls back, fingers grip onto his hair. Your mouth falls open, but no sound comes. Joel sucks harder.

“S– fuck,” you whisper, nearly voiceless. His tongue is flicking now, lips pulling more of your body into his mouth. “Fuckfuckfuck, I need you, I need you,” you whimper.

He releases your sweet skin, lips shining with saliva. “Tell me where.”

You writhe on top of him, hands pushing your shorts down over your hips. “You know where.”

Joel holds your body steady. “Tell me.”

You whine, trying to rock against him. He doesn’t let up. “Joel, fuck. Betw– between my – fuck.”

“Between your legs?” he taunts, pushing you harder against the hard folds of denim below his belt. “That where you need me? Between those pretty legs, babygirl?”

Your fists ball around the fabric of his shirt, clinging on to him. “Ye-ah,” you whimper, and his weight falls from your grasp.

You feel your shorts tug over the crests of bone by your hips. “Step out of ‘em, baby,” he instructs, and your knee lifts.

He pulls the cotton down one leg at a time, telling you to shift your weight as he curls a finger around the lace of your panties and tugs them down after. Before you can think about it, you’re naked, soaked cunt making a mess over the crotch of his jeans.

He looks up at you expectantly.

“What–?”

He flicks his fingers in a beckoning motion, a Come here, either side of your thighs. You hesitate.

“Darlin’. Up.”

“Joel.”

“Up.”

You take his open hands and shuffle up the mattress, knees pushing into the soft sheets either side of his head. You glance down at him.

“I don’t know –”

“’m not gonna tell you again.”

And he doesn’t have to. You steady yourself, locking your fingers through his behind your ass, and slowly lower yourself down to him. His jaw lifts to meet you, and you think about pausing again, telling him he doesn’t have to do this, asking instead to do something else, something he’ll enjoy as much, something you can both –

But then his lips open around the sweetest part of your body, and your lungs freeze. His tongue slips between, daring where you need him most, and your body sighs in equal parts relief and pleasure.

You’re so fucking wet. You can feel it, leaking onto his lips, spreading around your own as he kisses you, licks you, takes in every drop of you. Your back curls, lips fall open to the ceiling, breath comes in short wisps.

It’s been almost two weeks since the two of you felt like this. Hot, wet, needy. Two weeks of waiting for the other to come back, two weeks of reaching for the phone and deciding against it once the number’s dialed, two weeks of nothing.

And now – everything. Everywhere. Every part of your body ignited for him. You feel him fucking everywhere.

You lean all of your weight onto the palm of your hands, pushing all of it into Joel’s. He’s steady, strong, letting you rock and swirl your hips as he laps at your core.

“Right there,” you whisper, head rolling back. “Keep – keep – oh, fuck, Joel. What the f–?”

He slowly lowers his hands, letting you untangle your fingers and place them on the bed. His own come to hook around your thighs, clamping you as close against him as you can possibly be.

Two weeks of nothing. And now, five minutes of everything. The shards of light from outside blur across your vision; heat starts to prickle up your spine, tickling the back of your neck. You’re smiling, filthy and desperate.

“I’m gonna –” you breathe, and Joel hums. “’m gonna c– come.”

You can hear his response, though he doesn’t say a word. Then, come.

Your hips motion forward. Tighten. Clamp. Inhale. Joel’s tongue slips between your folds, warm on the inside of your cunt. And you rock back. Unwind. Unfurl. Exhale. His bottom lip puckers against your clit.

“J-oel. Joel, I’m – you’re – fuck.”

He moans against your sex. His hips shift behind you. Buck upwards, carefully.

Tighten. Clamp. Inhale. Tighten – inhale. Unwind. Unf-url. Ex-hale. Tighten. Inh– clamp. Fuck. I’m there. Unwind. Warm. Wet. Tongue. Exhale. Tongue. Tighten. Clamp. Inhale. Joel –

Your fingers curl around his bedsheets, nails dig into the cotton. Your orgasm sends a flood of hot pleasure across your cunt, rains down over Joel’s lips, and sets fireworks off through your body which explode into the dark room in the form of a throaty moan.

You’re not sure when you come to. You’re not sure your arms can bear the weight of your body. But when your eyes blink open, he’s kissing the inside of your thighs.

His mouth is glistening. Moustache and beard covered in you. Soft lips pearlescent with your spend. Your body feels heavy, unbearable. You lift your leg and tumble onto the mattress by his side, pussy throbbing when you land.

“I love you,” you whisper, and not for any particular reason. Not because of what he just did. Not because you’re naked in his bed.

But maybe because it feels like this is what you were made to do. To love and to be loved – by him. It feels like this entire thing has been, from its genesis, an exchange. An understanding. Immediate and certain. Here are all the parts of me. You know what to do.

As if there needed no further explanation. No instruction, no tutorial. You just knew.

He pushes himself up, leans over your frame. His jaw lowers, and he licks into your mouth tenderly.

“Gotta be inside you, baby,” he says, and at the same time, your fingers find the buttons of his shirt. “Gotta feel you again.”

You nod against him. Fuck me fuck me fuck me.

Joel’s hands are on his belt, pulling it through the loops, dropping it to the floor. Your help him tug his jeans off when he undoes the button. The material of his underwear rubs against your sex; your creamy arousal smears all over the black fabric. You can feel the weight of his stiff cock beneath. It dizzies your head.

He lets your fingers sneak below the elastic, lowering it until he springs free, slapping against the bottom of his tummy. You could fucking drool at the sight of him – the pink tip, beaded with precum; the thick vein on the underside of the shaft; his balls below it, heavy and waiting. Your hands wrap around him and pump slowly as he drags his boxers down, kicking them off at the foot of the bed.

He groans, hips thrusting gently into your palms as you squeeze him. Your fingers slip between your folds, collecting your own slick, coating him in it as you fist him.

“So good, babygirl,” Joel breathes, leaning down to kiss you. “You gonna take it all?”

“Mhm,” you reply, tongue slipping against his.

“Yeah,” he says, “my girl can take it.”

You let his hand shadow over yours, the two of you guiding his cock towards your entrance together. It glides between your dripping folds, the head sifting effortlessly from your clit to your tight hole and back again. Joel laughs, teeth clashing with yours, as he dips in and out, teasing you.

Your ass lifts from the mattress, any movement to draw him nearer. “Stop,” you gasp.

Joel pauses. “Stop?”

“No,” you bleat, “don’t stop. Just – fucking do it.”

“Do what, darlin’?”

“Fuck me.”

And he sinks in.

You’d be lying if you said all you’d done for the last two weeks was cry, mope, and stare at the ceiling. That’d be discrediting everything that this little affair was built on. It’s impossible to forget how the thing fucking started – your hands between your legs, Joel watching from the doorway.

In the moments you didn’t feel the mind-numbing tsunami of heartache overcome you – you felt something else. Memories of his hands on you, the trail of his tongue between your legs, the swell of his cock deep inside you. You tried to replicate it a handful of times with your hands. But nothing – not your fingers, not two, three, or four – nothing stands a chance against him.

He pushes in slow at first, drawing out when he’s halfway, and then in again as he covers himself in the wet his tongue left behind. When he’s soaked, glistening and gleaming, he thrusts. Hard. His tip catches on your cervix, and your back arches in a mix of pain and delight.

Something throbs deep inside as he bottoms out. You feel your opening stretch around his base. You feel your legs widen as if by instinct, accommodating the size of him, the width of him, the pace of him.

You throw an arm over his shoulder, elbow hanging on the nape of his neck. His sweaty forehead sticks to yours, and your hand cups his cheek.

“Harder,” you tell him, and he listens.

“Fuck, baby,” he pants, “fuck, you’re so tight. Oh, my – I ain’t gonna last.”

“Don’t – want you – to,” you cry, body jumping as he fucks you quicker, quicker, harder, deeper. “Want to – come – together.”

Your head tips back against the bed, and Joel’s lips attach to your neck. He’s moaning into your skin, teeth biting down, breath hot and quick. He’s not gonna last he’s not gonna last he’s not –

“F-u-ck, Joel,” you sob, your walls starting to close in around him, “feels so – f-fucking good, oh!”

“I know, darlin’, I know. C’mere.”

He takes your cheek and pulls your face back to his, lines his lips with yours and kisses you. It’s messy, haggard, fucking all over the place as your bodies bounce together, but he tastes like sweat, and sex, and you, and him.

“Missed this so fuckin’ much,” he grunts, hips pounding. “Missed bein’ inside you. You know how bad I needed you?”

“Tell me,” you slur, echoing his own words back to him.

He smirks. “Best fucking pussy I ever had, sweetheart. Best – I ever – had.”

“Don’t pull out,” you hum against his lips, and his jaw pulls back a fraction. “Don’t.”

“Baby,” he says, strained, and your head tilts.

“Need it,” you tell him. “Please. Need you.”

He nods, leaning back into you, letting you connect your mouths again. His lips shudder when you pull away, the thought translated clear as day from your mouth to his. And he knows, and he drives in harder, and he fucks the image from your mind. Who the fuck is Lois, when you’re under him and he’s this deep between your legs?

You look up into his eyes, and you find your answer. She’s nobody. There’s only you.

Your body feels liquid, your mind like fog. You pull him into your body, deeper and deeper, until you’re sure you’re one, and there is no place where he ends and you begin, and you’re sure this is what it feels like, this is what those words feel like, not just the sound of them, not just the way his lips move around them, but the shape of them on and in and around your body. Something deafening, something blinding, something screaming from the pits of your lungs as you come all around him, and you feel him come all around you.

His warmth spurts deep inside you, filling you up, dripping down your walls as he collapses into your shoulder, a loud moan drilling into your collarbone. He slows, thrusts in and out gently, pushing his spend deeper and mixing it with yours.

It's everywhere. The feeling. The pulsing, the humming, the singing. He’s everywhere. Him. In your brain and in your lungs and in your body and in your cunt. And you want to keep him there, hold him there, keep your bodies together for five more minutes, just five more minutes.

But then he’s panting into your skin, pressing kisses into that little dip between your collarbone and your chest, and he slowly slips out, come dripping from where he leaves.

He presses his palm deep into the sheets by your head, lifts off of you – but your arm is still around his neck, and you lean with him. Tilted on his mattress, holding onto him, letting him kiss your head; letting his hand move across the surface of your stomach, mapping the gentle slope over your belly button and scaling the tiny mountains of your hipbones. Kneading softly into the skin over which his seed sits, warm and snug, deep inside you. It’s new. You think you love it.

And he’s whispering, “Good girl, did so good for me,” and he nuzzles his nose into your hair, and he tilts your chin back until he can see your face, see your expression, and he smiles with relief when he clocks your doe eyes, your blissful smile, the sweet tinge of red on your cheeks.

“I love you,” he tells you, and you’re staring at his lips.

“Again.”

“I love you.”

You look up to his eyes. “Again.”

“I love you.”

You smile. It breaks into a laugh. “Again,” you whisper, and he kisses you.

Slowly, only once you pull away from him and your breath steadies, Joel takes your body and carefully shifts. He turns onto his back, settles you on his chest, your hips between his thighs. He runs a gentle hand over your hair and you lie against his sweat-shining chest, his heartbeat whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

Love and sex, as far as you knew, were always two different things. Separate. One, you weren’t even sure existed. The other, nothing more than a need to be satisfied. Something deep within you, something no one had ever managed to touch. And then Joel. And his lips, and his tongue, and his hands and his cock.

And suddenly the two – love and sex – begin to blur, their edges touch frantically. They bleed into one another, until there are no longer two distinct forms; instead, one big shape which has the curve of your hips and the cut of his jaw.

You love him. And he loves you. You’ve heard it translated between your minds longer than you care to admit, and now – you’ve felt it. Transferred between your bodies. You love him. Jesus, you love him.

It’s as terrifying as it is thrilling. Enamoring, and yet dangerous.

“So,” you sigh, “what’s next?”

He glances down, lifts his eyebrows and gives his head a shake. His hand lifts off of your shoulder with a shrug.

“Like, your next move. What happened with the other eight?”

“The other eight?”

“Mhm. Me, Sarah’s mom, makes two. There are eight others, right? What’d you do afterward?”

“Kicked ‘em out.”

You lift a heavy hand and slap his chest. He shudders with laughter.

“I dunno, baby. Wasn’t all like this.”

Your brows knit. “Like what?”

He takes a deep breath. Your head rises as his lungs fill. “Lyin’ in bed afterward. Talkin’.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“What?” he asks, smirking.

“Who even were they? I wanna know.”

“Why?”

“Just do. I wanna hear about ‘em. When was the last one, before me?”

Joel’s eyes drift off to the ceiling above you, thinking. “May.”

“M–?” You jump up, pushing yourself off of his body. “May?” you repeat, eyes wide. “That’s…so recent.”

“Recent?” He chokes back a laugh. “When’s your last?”

You furrow your brows, dropping his gaze. “We’re not talking about me,” you mumble, thumbs twiddling.

Your last had been two nights before you flew home. You’d gone out with your roommates and dragged home Matteo, an exchange student who you’d worked with on a group project for your screenwriting class. He was three inches shorter than you. He bent you over your kitchen counter and fucked you until he came. Then he made himself some cereal, ate half of it, and left.

Joel doesn’t really need to hear about him, you think.

“Do I know any of them?” you ask in attempt to change the subject.

Joel pulls a face. His lips tighten, teeth clench. His eyes narrow to a thin line, looking at you through his eyelashes. He nods tentatively.

“Shut the fuck up. Who is it? Who?”

“I dunno if you know her, but she knows you.”

“What’s her name?”

“Your dad gave us a ride home from the bar. She ‘n him got to talkin’, and he said he had a daughter –”

Your fist lightly drops onto his chest. “Joel, if you don’t fucking tell me who it is, I –”

“She’s an elementary teacher. Long, dark hair. Good few years older ‘n you. Think she said her little sister went to your school.”

“Who – was – it?”

He makes the face again. This time his eyes close over, waiting for the penny to drop. His head shakes lightly.

“You –? No, Joel. Come on. Please don’t…Are you fucking serious? You don’t remember her name?”

“It was a long night, alright?”

“How did you forget her damn name?”

He shrugs. “I don’t fuckin’ know. I was drunk, baby.”

“Elementary teacher? I don’t know anybody whose sister teaches elementary.”

“Guess we’ll never know.” Joel shrugs, and you shake your head at him.

You’re picturing Joel stumbling out of Frank’s, arm in arm with a brunette, heavy feet dragging along the sidewalk while your dad chitters in his ear about the Rangers, or about some rude bartender, or about…you. The brunette turns, and her face is yours. Your features, your smile. Your hand linked through Joel’s. C’mon, baby. ‘s go home.

You chase the image away. It slips from your mind like dust cleared from a countertop. Would never. Could never. Should never.

You replace it with something lighter. Something to make you forget about the dust.

“Does…Does my dad ever go home with anyone?”

“What?”

You don’t answer. He heard you.

“That’s…No. I ain’t answerin’ that.”

“Oh, come on. If you’re takin’ women home left, right, and center, he’s gotta be seein’ that. Does he?”

“I was not takin’ home women left, right, and – No, darlin’, no. It’s inappropriate.”

“Yeah, you’re right. And I’m known for my appropriate behavior, y’know,” you gesture between your naked bodies, “I’m known for the good life choices I make.”

“This,” Joel hooks his hands under your arms and drags you up until your chin meets his, “is a good life choice.”

“Yeah?” you ask through a giggle, your nose bumping his.

Joel smiles softly, runs a hand over the back of your head. Looks between your eyes, a twinkle in his. Yes.

Your lips crash together like waves on the rocks. You’re the sea; he’s the stone. Two different worlds, suddenly married in some unforeseen twist of nature. And when you pour over him, your body lighting him in a twinkling glow of ocean, it’s as though you never existed apart from one another. It’s as natural as the waves on the shore.

“Alright, darlin’,” Joel mumbles against your skin. “Speakin’ of inappropriate. I gotta get you home.”

“Why can’t I just stay the night?” you complain. “Like last time. Tell ‘im we’re watchin’ a movie again…”

Joel’s head rests on your arm. “He’s worried sick about you. Ain’t no way he’ll let you spend the night here. You know that. Plus, Sarah’ll be long done with Rita’s cross stitch by now.”

He sits up and you roll into his lap, head resting on the soft skin of his belly. He looks down at you, head tilted, eyes glowing hazel.

You stare right back. The dimples in his cheeks dig deeper when you whisper, “Kickin’ me out right after we finally make up. I see how it is, Miller.”

Joel’s shoulders hunch. “Happens to all of ‘em. Warned ya.”

He shifts off the bed and begins gathering his clothes. You sit up and watch as he pulls his boxers snug over his hips, swipes his tee from the carpet at his feet. As he drapes it over his scruffy chest, your half-naked form meets his at the foot of the bed.

His fingers knot in your hair. You lean into his arms, legs giving as he kisses you gently, breathing you in, stealing any more words of protest from your tongue.

“I love you,” he whispers when he pulls away, tip of his nose brushing off yours. “You know that?”

“Somebody told me somethin’ to do with that, yeah.”

He smiles. “Get dressed.”

You pull the rest of your clothes back on in silence, tossing socks and jeans across the room to one another, giggling like a pair of kids. After all you just did, the palpable pleasure you just sent hammering through one another – this is the part you wish you could bottle. The laughter, the love. The attempts to keep holding onto him, even as he tries to pull his arm through the sleeve of his shirt, even as he links his belt back through his jeans, as he bends to tie his boots.

The fun of it. The hope of it.

The foolish, foolish hope.

“Hoodie.” Joel flings it up towards you, crouched as he tightens his laces.

You pull it on over your bra. Flatten your flyaway hairs, stand straight before him.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

“You got your phone?”

Your hands instinctively pat your body down. “Oh, nah,” you realize, “musta left it at home.”

Joel nods and heads into the hallway, you at his heel. At the bottom of the stairs, you glance around his house, like it’s the first and last time you’ll see it wrapped into one. It looks different; two weeks of absence and you notice things you hadn’t before.

His coat hanging by the door, probably untouched since early spring. The bowl on the side table where his and Sarah’s keys live. The guitar in the corner of the room, the books in the shelves above it. All him. Every little piece of it. He’s reflected in every object in the room. He’s reflected in you.

You drive back to your dad’s place in silence. Comfortable, sweet silence. Your fingers ghost across his palm the entire time, watching out the window as the dark neighborhood soars by in a blur of porch lights and mailboxes. All too quickly, you’re back in front of your own house.

“What do we do now?” you ask, and through the darkness you see Joel’s smile fall.

After a moment’s silence, heavy and contemplative, he looks back up. Softens when his eyes land on you.

“We’ll be alright,” he tells you, and you believe him.

You lean forward and press a quick but tender kiss to his lips, and your fingers latch around the door handle. Joel’s hand finds the back of your head, keeping your mouth on his.

“Gotta – let me – go,” you mumble between kisses, and he hums a laugh in response. “Joel.”

“I know,” he whispers, finally pulling back. “I know.”

You smile, head tilting into his palm. “I’ll text you.”

He nods once. “See you, babygirl.”

You slip out of the truck and wander past to your front door, twirling as you click the handle. Joel laughs, and the truck reverses back onto the street. You wait for it to disappear before closing the door, and step into the unlit hallway.

The TV lights the living room at the opposite end. You stop by the kitchen, feeling the grumpy rumble of your stomach. Your dad’s armchair is sat facing the screen. You lean over to double check he’s not sat in it, fast asleep while Rangers highlights play on loop before his eyelids.

When you swivel the plaid pattern towards your knees, its only occupant is the remote. You flick the TV off and pad back over to the kitchen, filling a bowl with some chips. You’re hunched over at the refrigerator when his footsteps clunk slowly down the stairs, and he materializes like a specter around the doorway.

“Hey.”

You straighten up, lit in a nervous blue hue from the fridge. “Hey, yourself.”

“Joel gone?”

“’bout ten minutes ago. Where’ve you been? You left the TV on.”

“Just…y’know. You get those brochures?”

Fuck. You were at Joel’s under the premise of picking up fucking UCLA pamphlets – and you’ve come home empty-handed. The lie doesn’t form on your tongue as quickly as Joel’s did earlier. Something else on your mind.

“…sure. Some…interesting stuff.”

Your dad nods. “Good. Good, I’m glad. We can take a look in the mornin’.”

Your eyebrows flinch. “Yeah. That’d be – yeah. I’m…gonna head to bed, alright?”

“Sure,” he says, nodding.

With a can of soda under your arm and your bowl of chips in the other, you nod and cautiously shuffle towards him. His lips are a thin line. You duck by him and trot upstairs, and make it as far as the landing before he’s calling out again.

“Oh, hey.” He holds a hand out, and disappears in a jog towards the living room. You drop back down a couple steps, watching him swipe something from the dining table and pace back over. “You left your phone.”

He’s presenting it like a jeweler shows a Rolex – or maybe more like an investigator handles evidence. Holding it out in almost trembling fingers, afraid to mark it with his fingerprints. Your eyes flit from the phone to his, unsure which of the two frightens you more.

That’s not where I fucking left it.

You lean over and take it from his palm. “Thanks…”

“I think maybe you got a text, just then. It was lit up. Maybe I’m seein’ things.”

You force the corners of your mouth upward. Your cheeks inflate with nerves and shame. “Thanks,” you repeat, and then: “Everything okay, Dad?”

“Everything’s fine, kiddo. Sleep well.” He makes back for the living room.

As you turn, you unlock your screen.

Joel: Left your shirt here, and your bikini from last week. This mean I get to be the one wearing your clothes now?

Panic spills over your head, a wave of freezing cold washing over you when you read his words. Did Dad read them, too?

You continue walking, feeling the weight of your dad’s strange voice on your back as your feet drag you one by one up the stairs. When you make it back to the landing, your cool flees you, and you take the rest of them two at a time until you’re leaning against your bedroom door, panting.

You: Problem. I think my dad saw that text

Joel: How so?

You: When I got home my phone was next to his chair, and he’s being so weird

You: Joel I think he knows something

Joel: I’m sure he doesn’t. He wouldn’t read your phone baby.

He’s trying to reassure you, telling you he wouldn’t even know what it means, maybe he’ll think you spilled something on it, but no matter how many ideas Joel comes up with, none of them slow your heart rate.

You sit down on the edge of your bed, and the anxiety bubbling in your stomach forces you straight back up. Pacing doesn’t help, knowing your dad is directly below you probably hearing the floorboards creak with every step you take.

Your head dizzies with doubts, fears, worries, all frantically throwing themselves against the walls of your skull. You lean your forehead against the cold glass of your window, eyes screwing shut, stars in your vision. Nothing is calming you down.

Joel takes too long to reply back, whether he’s running out of explanations or just fucking forty-eight with an iPhone, but every time your phone buzzes with a new attempt at comfort from him, it only convinces you even more that – no, it wasn’t a stain, it wasn’t a joke, Joel has your top because you took it off for him an hour ago, and then let him fuck you in his bed.

And your dad fucking knows it.

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #dad's best friend #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel miller #cowboy like me #smut #fluff #angst

895 notes · View notes

harveysweakness · 7 months

Text

A/N: Thank you for the request dear! Super fluffy you say? Super fluffy coming your way

“You don’t look so good,” Rachel greeted, meeting you as soon as you’d stepped out of the elevator at the firm.

“I’m fine,” you replied, voice getting raspier by the second.

“Really? Because you sound like that now at 8AM so I can’t imagine what you’ll sound li-“

“Did you get those files?” You sighed, walking toward your office significantly slower than normal.

“Yes, I did but-“

“Rachel, let it go, please.”

“Fine,” the woman beside you huffed.

“Thank you. Now, I need to go through the files and you need to head to Reiter’s.”

“You’re letting me do it?” Rachel asked, surprised.

“You’re ready, we’ll give you a shot.”

“Thank you!” She squealed, before returning the same way you’d come. You couldn’t help but smile- the woman was far too excited about her work as an associate.

Walking into your office, you nearly collapsed into your chair. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt like this- congested, head throbbing, cold and hot at the same time, and just plain weak. But, mind over matter, right?

You continued to work, going through the large pile of files Rachel had gathered, searching for the right answer that would win you your case. Every so often you’d get a text from Rachel, letting you know whatever meeting she’d been in had gone well. It made you happy, knowing she was this good and didn’t always need your help anymore.

You’d just sat back in your chair for one second for a break when Donna knocked on the door.

“You didn’t greet Harvey this morning,” she said suspiciously.

“Busy day, Donna. I’m sorry but he can wait.”

She gave you a pointed look. “Now I know why you didn’t see him and that is exactly why you need to, Y/N.”

“Donna,” you sighed, though you both knew you could be convinced with just a little more of a push from her.

“Up, come on, up,” she insisted, moving into your office towards you. You stood before she could get to you, a little wobbly on your feet.

“Just got up too fast,” you muttered before she could say anything. Donna just hummed, sticking close to your side while you walked the short distance down the hall to Harvey’s office.

“Someone needs to see you,” she announced in Harvey’s doorway.

“Hey, I didn’t see you this morning,” your boyfriend greeted a bit hesitantly. It was odd that he hadn’t seen you, and it was odd how Donna had brought you here.

“Sorry.”

He was out of his chair in an instant, moving to stand in front of you.

“You’re sick, aren’t you?”

You couldn’t tell if it was the attention or the fact that you had a growing fever, but you suddenly felt dizzy, going so far as to grip onto Harvey while you swayed.

He steadied you and helped you over to his couch.

“You have a fever,” he murmured aloud, the back of his hand pressed to your forehead.

“I don’t feel good,” you admitted quietly. He frowned, a concerned expression on his face.

“Let’s get you home.”

“I have work to do,” you whispered. He shook his head.

“Rachel can take care of it. Donna said you already had her handling most of it today. There’s nothing left for you to do besides go home and rest.” His hand reached for yours, squeezing it gently. You nodded, letting your walls crash down as you stopped trying to convince yourself that you were going to make it the rest of the day. The man next to you, pulled you into him, not missing the way your eyes fluttered shut from exhaustion.

“Donna,” Harvey called. “Call Ray. Tell Mike he’s going to handle the rest of the day.”

“Already done.”

“I love that woman,” you sighed sleepily, cuddling in closer to Harvey.

“Sweetheart, don’t fall asleep. We have to get you home first,” your boyfriend chuckled, though the worry was evident in his voice. You groaned, but picked your head up and moved to stand, Harvey’s hand stopping you.

“Stay here, I’m going to grab your things.” He stood, bending down to press a quick kiss to your temple before leaving the room.

‘Watch her, Donna,’ you heard him say.

You shut your eyes once more, leaning back against the couch. You shivered, wishing the material was a warm one instead of the cool black leather. Though you knew it was un-ladylike, you pulled your knees up and tucked your legs underneath you, trying to savor your body heat.

Harvey was back a minute later, setting your things down on the table. He moved to pack up his bag, an eye on you constantly.

"Y/N, I've got your coat."

You dragged yourself upright, slowly getting your legs out from underneath you and standing.

"We'll be home soon," he said quietly as he helped you slide your arms into your coat. You pulled it tight around you as Harvey wound his arms around you and gave you a squeeze. You nodded, pulling away to grab your bag. Your boyfriend quickly moved around you and grabbed your bag before you could.

"I'm not helpless," you meekly retorted.

"I know, but you've got something else to hold."

Just then, Donna made her way into the office, a to-go cup in her hands.

"Tea for the ride," she said, giving a sympathetic smile as you took the warm cup.

"Thank you, Donna."

"Feel better."

"Ready?" Harvey asked. You nodded, taking the arm he offered.

---------

Five minutes into the ride your eyes were fluttering shut. Harvey took the tea out of your hands without a word. He had to gently shake you awake when you arrived.

You let Harvey help you out of the car and you tilted your head, confused.

"This isn't my apartment building."

Your boyfriend chuckled, grabbing all of the bags. "It's mine." He pressed a kiss to your temple before guiding you towards the entrance.

"You took me to your apartment?"

"We aren't walking into Mike's, if that's what you're worried about."

You couldn't help but laugh, which quickly turned into a small coughing fit.

"Let's get you inside," Harvey murmured once you were finished.

-------

An hour later, you were settled in Harvey's bed, a mountain of blankets piled on top for you. He'd gone above and beyond, ordering soup, medicine, teas, and anything else he thought you would like, including a fresh bouquet of roses. He'd set tissues and a trash can next to the bed and he'd joined you in bed the second he'd made sure you had everything.

You cuddled into him, before sitting up for a second and looking at him.

"What?"

"Thank you," you said sincerely.

"You're welcome. Now come here."

You settled yourself in his arms again, eyes closing the second your face laid against his chest.

#harvey specter x reader #harvey specter #harvey specter imagine #harvey specter x femreader #suits #mine #suits fanfic

646 notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

Ooh what about Joel giving reader a kiss on the cheek now and then and calling her sweetheart and darling because he knows it makes her blush

Basically Joel torturing reader by shamelessly flirting with her until she finally caves and kissed him and he’s like “took ya long enough”

AN | Please!! This is so soft and fluffy 🥰

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.2k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey trouble,” you felt his hands on your hips as he gently moved you out of the way before you saw him. You hadn’t even heard him coming up, but he was good like that - stealthy and lethal when he needed to be.

“Joel,” your entire face turned so warm you were almost sure you could have fried an egg on it. He looked over at you as though he knew exactly what was going through mind whenever he came around. Honestly he probably did and that made it all the worse, “what’re you doing here?”

“Nothin’ much,” he took a seat at the bar next to him. You felt stupid for even asking - you were at the bar, what else would he be doing here? You wish the ground would open and swallow you whole, “thinkin’ about having a beer. What about you?”

“Same,” you’d been nursing the same beer you’d first ordered when you walked into the bar. You shrugged meekly, “long week.”

“I’d say every week is a long week,” he offered up and you couldn’t help the snort of amusement that escaped your lips. His own beer was passed over and he took it, clinking it against your own, “cheers.”

“Cheers,” you whispered softly, taking a small sip. You didn’t even really like the beer, but it was a social thing to do. Although with Joel currently sitting next to you and leaning into you, it was hard to focus on anything but him. The two of you sat in silence for some time, nothing needing to be said by either of you.

You’d always liked Joel, always found yourself gravitating to the older man, but just how much you liked him was still dizzying and overwhelming at times. But you’d never say anything - you were pretty sure you’d rather die. You didn’t really have much to offer, which is always what kept you from saying anything. Instead, you like just being his friend, which was just fine with you.

“I have to leave tomorrow,” he said suddenly, angling his body closer to yours. Your heart dropped at the idea of not being able to see him, but you tried not to let it show on your face. He chuckled softly and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “don’t get all sad on me yet - I haven’t even finished what I was saying.”

“I wasn’t…sad,” you lied although there was no reason to, “sorry - go on.”

“I have to leave tomorrow for a few days to get some supplies,” he explained, “and I was wondering if you wanted to come with me?”

And then your face broke into a huge smile that you weren’t able to hide, beaming and lovely. Joel returned your smile as you tried to not let your imagination run away too wild, “you want me to come? You’re sure?”

“I am,” he nodded, “what do you think? It’s nothing much, just a lot of driving and maybe a night or two of camping.”

“I’d love to,” you agreed with hesitation; you’d probably have done anything and everything he asked of you. He perked up at your response and raised an eyebrow, almost as if he was making sure he’d heard you correctly, “when are we leaving?”

“In the morning, bright and early,” you groaned lightly and that just made him laugh a little harder, “is that going to be a problem, sweetheart?”

“I hate bright and early,” you groaned dramatically, “but I guess I’ll do it for you, Miller. Remember, I’m doing you the favor here.”

“Of course,” he nodded seriously, “and I’ll never be able to repay you. Forever in your debt.”

“Okay now you’re just being dramatic,” you rolled your eyes but there was nothing but affection behind your gesture, “well, I look forward to an adventure. Bright and early.”

“Bright and early.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You might have been panicking. Okay, you were definitely panicking. But why? You wished your mind explained that bit. You’d known Joel for several years, and had managed to be around him without any issue but the idea of spending so much time alone together and potentially small spaces just made things that much worse. You just hoped that you wouldn’t somehow manage to spill your little deep rooted secret.

“Good morning!” Joel pulled up to your place bright and early just as promised, waving as you met him at the door. You wondered for a moment what he put in his coffee, but decided not to question it too much. He came up and took your bag as you followed him and mumbled your own version of a good morning. You climbed into the truck and made yourself comfortable and he cranked up the heat for your benefit, “ready to go?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he grinned at you but paused for a moment before shifting the vehicle into drive. He reached under the seat and pulled out a blank, draping it over your lap. Your heart swelled at the gesture and you almost couldn’t contain yourself, “thank you, Joel. That’s really sweet of you.”

“I can be nice sometimes,” he winked and oh. That made the butterflies flutter in your tummy, “off we go.”

You spied the second cup of coffee sitting in the cupholder and you knew immediately that it would be made just the way you liked it. He was thoughtful like that - in so many ways.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The two of you spent most of the morning and early afternoon, passing the time with conversation about anything and everything that crossed your minds. It was all so easy with him, everything always felt so right and natural. You liked that he made you laugh and you liked making him laugh too. When he’d first arrived he almost never smiled, but he was doing it a lot more these days. And it was a lovely sight to behold.

You rested for a few hours, to stretch your legs and get some fresh air. You could feel him studying you intently, but decided not to question him. Maybe you just had something on your face, or your hair was funky…or something.

"There's a small town nearby," hed suggested, "we'll stop there for the night. Unless you'd rather rough it and make camp?"

"Can't trust just anyone these days," you shrugged, "but I'm willing to chance it instead of camping out in the wilderness."

"Good point," he agreed without much emotion. If you'd taken him up on his offer, you might have gotten to share a tent with him. Ugh. Maybe you'd made the wrong decision, "I'm sure we can find a room somewhere there."

A room. Singular. Alright, perhaps things would be okay after all.

"We'll figure it out," you agreed as you looked at the lights in the distance. He reached over and brushed his knuckles over your cheek. Your skin felt like it was on fire from even the simplest of his touches and it made you smile despite your best efforts.

The rest of the ride passed by in silence, a comfortable one at that, and before you knew it you were parking inside the small town and looking around in amazement. You knew more towns like Jackson existed but it was still amazing when you got to see them. It was like a little bit of normalcy back into your lives.

"Come on," Joel tugged on your arm as he started to lead towards the small diner, "let's get inside."

You followed his lead, trailing slightly behind him as he slid into one of the booths. You looked around and couldn't keep the smile off your face, "this place is cute."

"Hmm," he hummed in agreement, "you think about what you want to eat and I'm going to ask about where we can stay for the night."

"Okay," you watched as he slid out of the booth, enjoying the view but not before he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

You looked at the menu and you weren't sure how much time had passed before he sat back in the booth. Only when you looked up, it wasn't Joel sitting there.

Instead, it was a young man who was smiling brightly but managed to send an unpleasant shiver down your spine.

"Haven't seen you around before," he smirked and immediately there was a shift in the air and you did not like it at all, "I think I would have remembered such a pretty little thing."

"I…I'm not from here," you shrugged him off, "just passing through-"

"Well, I'm sure you'd like some company right?" He completely cut you off, "wouldn't want you to get lost or anything."

"I have someone," you searched the place, desperately willing Joel to just pop up, "if you don't mind."

“I’m sure no one will mind if you come with me for a little bit,” everything about this man had your blood boiling, “I can show you a good time, and you can show me a good time in return. Whaddaya say, sweet thing?”

Neither of you got the chance to say anything else before you heard the sound of a gun cocking and the cool metal was pressed to his temple. Your eyes widened in shock as you looked at a livid, furious Joel, “don’t say another word. Get out of this booth, apologize, and walk away.”

“Listen old man-”

“Now!” he shouted, causing you to jump slightly, “I won’t hesitate to blow your brains out, kid.”

“Fine,” he gingerly moved but Joel kept the gun pointed at him. You could see that the guy was genuinely nervous; you couldn’t blame him, Joel was scary when this side of him came out, “I’m sorry.”

You said nothing but gave him a subtle nod as he almost ran out. Joel kept his eye on him, before sitting down across from you again, “are you okay? Did he do anything or touch you?”

“No,” you swallowed thickly, a few tears rolling down your cheeks. Joel reached over and brushed them away, “he didn’t do anything. You got here just in time.”

“Good,” he let out a sigh of relief, “oh, my little trouble.”

“Thank you,” no one ever made you feel as safe as Joel did, “I don’t think that guy will try anything again. I think you made an impression on him.”

“Well, can’t go around and not make an impression,” he huffed bitterly, “you’re sure you’re okay?”

“Positive,” you promised, “thanks to you.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel had found a small little room in one of the hotels and your mouth almost dropped open when you realized it was only one bed. You set your bag down and looked before laughing nervously. It was an easy tell of yours that Joel had picked up a long time ago.

“Umm, there’s…” you trailed off and pointed at the bed, “only one.”

“I can sleep on floor, sweetheart,” he promised without skipping a beat, “its not a big deal.”

“Joel, no, don’t,” you sat at the edge of the bed and patted the space next to you, “your back is going to kill you and I can’t deal with all of your belly aching. We can share.”

“You sure?” he asked softly as you looked up at him nodded, “I won’t try anything.”

“I know,” you smiled in relief, “if there’s a man I trust, it’s you. So.”

“So.”

"Can I ask you something?" You asked so quietly that he almost didn't hear it. He sat down next to you and nodded, "why do you look at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like…I dunno," you whispered, "like the way you do."

"The way I do," he repeated softly, "which is?"

"Joel, you're so - you know what I mean," you turned to him and found that he was looking at you and very close, "oh. Like that."

“Mhmm,” he reached over and cupped your jaw with his large, warm hand, “just like that. You know what I’m about to do, don’t you?”

“Maybe?” oh yeah. You were almost positive you knew what was coming but a small part of you was still doubting that this was all real and not some wild fever dream.

And then he kissed you, just like you had imagined he would. It was soft and sweet, barely anything that would be considered mind blowing but it was just perfect. When he pulled back, you sighed softly and he pressed his forehead against yours.

After a few moments you stole a few kisses, both of you smiling shyly at each other.

“Do you understand now?” he closed his eyes and you laughed softly.

“You like me?” you asked and he just grinned.

“Mhmm,” he kissed you again, “took you long enough to catch up.”

“What if I hadn’t?”

“I would have waited,” he promised, “you’re worth waiting for.”

“Joel,” you looked at him with the embodiment of heart eyes, “do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Kiss me more,” and he had no problem with that request at all, “please.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #tlou #tlou hbo #the last of us

2K notes · View notes

the-offside-rule · 2 months

Text

Paul Aron (Hitech) - Clingy

Requested: yes

Prompts: 32) "I could kiss your lips all day."

Warnings: nope

Paul couldn't contain his excitement as he led Y/n through the buzzing atmosphere of the race weekend. He was unusually clingy, constantly holding her hand and wrapping his arm around her. Y/n, bewildered by the sudden change in his demeanor, couldn't help but laugh. "What's gotten into you, Paul?" She asked, amused, as the couple walked away from a group of fans looking for a photo with Paul. "I'm just so happy you're here with me. You've never been here before." Paul chirped, slinging her hand back and fourth. "Well, I appreciate the affection, but it's a bit much. Are you sure you're okay?" She asked.

Paul nodded, "Absolutely. I just can't believe you're here, and I want to make the most of it." He leaned in and pecked her lips softly. "I could kiss your lips all day!" He teased, slinging his arm around her shoulder and pulling her closer. Y/n burst into laughter, reaching up to grab his hand. "Okay, Clingy. I didn't know a race could make you this affectionate." He pulled her into him even tighter. "It's not just the race, it's having you here with me. I want you to enjoy every moment." His grip on her hand was firm, almost possessive, as if he feared losing her in the sea of people and racing activities.

He suddenly gasped. "Y/n, you have to meet Toto!" Paul exclaimed, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. "Paul, do you not think he might be busy?" She asked, trying to make him think before doing, one of the perks of their relationship. "No, no. It'll only take a second. Let's go!" He said as he steered her towards the Mercedes AMG Petronas F1 Team area.

"Mmh, where he could be." Paul muttered to himself looking around the hospitality. "In the garage doing his job?" Y/n replied. "No, no, he wouldn't be in the garage at this time. It's way too- there he is!" He began to walk her towards the unmissable Toto Wolff, surrounded by a group of people. "Paul, he looks busy. Don'-t"

"Hey Toto!" Y/n masked her frustration as Toto turned around, smiling and shaking hands with Paul. "Paul, how are you? I see you've brought us a guest." He said, referring referring Y/n. Paul turned and presented her. "Yes. Toto, this is Y/n, my girlfriend. Y/n, this is Toto, the man who makes everything happen here." Toto extended a hand with a warm smile. "Nice to meet you, Y/n. Paul can't stop talking about you." Y/n chuckled, feeling a bit overwhelmed by Paul's eagerness. "Thank you, Toto. It's a pleasure to be here." Paul, unable to contain himself, interjected, "Wait until you see the car! I'll give you a tour later. Oh, I just saw Kimi go into the garage. We should say hi!" Y/n turned back to Toto to bid farewell, but her boyfriend had already had her whisked away. "It was nice meeting you!" She called, earning a laugh from Toto as he returned to speaking with his colleagues.

Y/n almost felt dizzy as they navigated the maze into the Mercedes garage, yet she was amused by Paul's infectious energy as he pulled her towards Kimi. "He's a nice guy. You're going to get on well." Paul reassured her, although after meeting Toto Wolff, she didn't need much reassurance. "Kimi, I'd like you to meet Y/n. My girlfriend." He smiled as Kimi introduced himself. "Kimi, nice to meet you." Y/n shook his hand. "Of all the drivers you could have picked, you picked Paul?" Y/n laughed at the joke as Paul looked on pretending to be annoyed. "That was out of order, mate." Paul said, pulling the younger driver into a headlock. "Don't be jealous." Y/n chuckled. "Who's side are you on?" Paul replied sarcastically.

Once their joking around had died down, Paul brought Y/n to the Formula 2 tents. "You must want everyone to know who I am." Y/n remarked. "You're going to be so famous by the time today is finished." Y/n sighed, catching Paul's attention. "Everything okay?" He asked, stopping dead in his tracks in the middle of the paddock. "I am fine, but I just think you're a bit overexcited is all." Paul's brows knotted in confusion. "Over excited? No, I'm just excited. It's your first time here!" He smiled. "I know, and its great you want everyone to know I am your girlfriend but I just think maybe it would be better suited away from where everyone is trying to do their jobs." Paul was just confused at this point. "What do you mean?"

"Toto was talking to people. They could have been sponsors, they could have been important people. Kimi was talking to an engineer. He might be preparing to do a test for Mercedes. These people are working. As nice as it is, I don't need you to run around telling everyone we are together." Paul's smile had pretty much vanished. "Am I being too clingy?" Y/n nodded. "Just a bit, babe." She replied. "Okay, that's fine. I'll just tone it down." Paul nodded. "Right. Now to the motor home." He said, leading Y/n to the Hitech truck so he could speak with his engineers. They laughed and chatted the whole way over, but once he stepped foot inside the motor home, he was zoned in, like he was meant to be.

As Paul engaged with his engineers, Y/n occasionally glanced nervously at the camera. She felt a bit out of place in this tech-filled environment, but Paul's reassuring grip on her hand kept her grounded. The crew aimed their lens toward her, capturing candid moments of her subtle attempts to step away from the intrusive camera. Paul noticed Y/n's discomfort and gently squeezed her hand, signaling that he was aware of her unease. "Don't worry, babe. They just need to film some segments and they'll be gone." He whispered, shooting her a comforting smile. Y/n nodded, appreciating his understanding.

The engineers discussed technical details, charts, and diagrams, while Y/n observed the intricate dance of collaboration. She marveled at the passion in Paul's eyes as he explained the intricacies of the project. The F2 crew captured these moments, weaving a visual narrative of dedication and innovation. As the conversation continued, the crew focused on Paul's animated interactions with the engineers, capturing the essence of teamwork and determination. Y/n, feeling a bit overwhelmed, sought solace in the familiar warmth of Paul's hand.

The crew, sensing the emotional nuances, adjusted their approach, providing a bit more space for the personal moments. Y/n, grateful for the consideration, began to relax, allowing herself to become part of the unfolding documentary. "Okay, sounds perfect. We'll go from there." Paul said, finalising the strategy plan for the upcoming qualifying session. "Paul, mind if I just ask who this is quickly so we can identify her in the documentary?" Onenof the camera men asked. Paul looked over to Y/n. "This is Y/n. She's my girlfriend."

#f1 imagine #f1 blurb #f1 oneshot #paul aron x reader #paul aron x you #paul aron x y/n #paul aron imagine #paul aron blurb

257 notes · View notes

konigsblog · 2 months

Note

I’m sorry this is a ramble but this thought plagues me and I just can’t write so . Spare me my agony here; older stalker Konig.

He sees you at work, some pretty young thing at a seedy diner or bar, barely old enough to be employed there at all. Too young to be working, you’re something he thinks should be housed away and pampered like some dumb pet, so silly of you to not settle down already. Low hanging fruit is what he takes you for, with how naive and innocent you seem; no concept of the world, of seedy men like himself with too much time and money on his hands, his red flags too visible to anyone who knows what to look for. And you poor, poor thing have no clue what he’s like, his faux charm and large tips and solid build blinding you of his true intentions.

He watches, becomes a regular, gets to know you and make small talk and leave fat tips and cheesy compliments that make you giddy and flustered despite the odd air he has about him or the way your coworkers whisper that he’s no good. Eventually his regular appearances turn into him staying til close, then offering to walk you home his possessive streak covered up by vigilant protectiveness that leaves you dizzy with his little touches to your arm or the small of your back, the nearly parental way he kisses your forehead at your door.

Little did you know he’s been planning the whole time; memorizing your work schedules, your daily schedule, the things you eat or drink, places you go on your days off, watching you through your apartment window or sneaking in when you’re out of the house to raid your dirty laundry or leave a gross surprise of his cum in your leftovers. He’s a shadow in your life, always lurking in the background of every scene no matter where you are or what you’re doing. Eventually he’s sneaking in when you’re asleep, so silent for such a behemoth of a man, so he can paw at your soft and prone form while he pants and spills into his hand like a dog in rut while you’re none-the-wiser, unaware of the way he smears his soiled hand on your skin, your cunt, your pillow or sheets.

When he finally takes things further, too determined to do anything but hoard you all to himself, he’s so sweetly condescending as he relays just how long he had planned everything, how cute and stupid you were to never realize what he had been doing all this time, the bits of himself he left around your apartment, on you, inside of you as a precursor to him claiming you fully. You’ve already consumed so much of his seed, you’ll be fine taking it from the source like a good girl Schatz, nicht? Sure his cock is big, but he knows the best ways to stretch your tight hole already, so you’ll be fine! Just stop thinking and let him have you already, he’s worked so hard for you, your the center of his world. His stupid little Liebling, pathetic and confused as she struggles against her bindings and his hands, no choices left but to plead until her voice dies and give herself over to him, because nothing could convince him to accept no as the answer.

anon, my jaw is on the floor, i absolutely adore older stalker-könig and his creepiness. (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

CW: RAPE/NON-CON, AGE GAP, STALKING. 🪦🕊️

DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. 18+

my brain rots at the thought of könig sliding inside for the first time, holding your wrists down beside your head as he begins rocking gently. the way he cocks his head to the side almost mocking you, taunting you for being so easy, so pliant, and so vulnerable and naïve around him. the faux sympathy and empathy leaves you longing for his sweet praise, but when you're slapped for falling for the mask he puts on, you sob harder with his slicken cock hammering against your cervix, stuffed inside that inexperienced cunt. it's as if you wanted this to happen, to be used and controlled as if you were a puppet, with your inappropriate and flirty comments after each cheesy, overly sweet compliment he gives you, unaware of his seriousness, how this was a part of his plan to reduce you to a mutt, with your purpose being to serve a man, könig.

he hides himself so well, and you take the bait, falling for the façade of a gentle, older male with sweet intentions. looking back, you can only let out pitiful and pained cries as you connect the dots and realise your stupidity, finally realising what you fell for, how stupid you must look on your back begging for him to stop when he'd given you so many hints and chances to flee, your voice becoming quiet and strained as you plead. the rough texture of his old, scarred skin over your mouth to silence you, against your soft and supple skin, your body shaking with each thrust, showing you what you're worth, what your purpose truly is.

könig shows you what reality is, getting you out of your stupid head, that's doing you no good as he continues with his violation and assault. he teaches you that life isn't fantasy, how you don't know everyone and their intentions or who they truly are, or how you'll fall for it and become a wolf's prey within seconds due to your kindness and naivety, how you never accuse anyone and hope they mean well, too naïve for your own good and assuming the best about everyone. leading you to be forced to take every inch of the man's experienced, hung cock, with your eyes glistening and horrified, and the smell of him on your bedsheets reminding you, or the cum stains along your shirts and panties.

or, perhaps the bruises and marks he leaves along your skin as a warning, or maybe as a sign of ownership - who you belong to, who owns you.

how could you be so foolish? :(

382 notes · View notes

scribble-dribble-writes · 9 months

Text

Plastic heart - (3)

<<<Prev Next>>>

---

Ken's dealing with some feelings too 🥺

---

“So what are the symptoms?”, weird Barbie questioned and you were trying not to stare at the markings on her face or the asymmetrical manner in which her hair was cut.

“Burnt food, loss of appetite and motivation. Also this pain in my chest.”, you stated your common issues.

“How about dizziness?”, she asked further tapping a pen against a clipboard as she narrowed her eyes at you.

You didn’t get nauseous often but that nervous sensation was only ever when Ken was around.

“Not often.”, you contemplated.

“No, does it happen when a Ken is around?”, she asked and you couldn’t mask your surprise.

“Ah I know what you’ve got.”, she eased and it got you to feel comfortable too. She could give you a cure and everything would go back to being normal.

“But only time can fix it though.”, she shrugged her shoulder but it only stirred up confusion within you. Nothing took too long to heal here in barbieland. In fact nothing broke in the first place.

“You’re heartbroken.”, she turned to you with her diagnosis. You didn’t believe her and so huffed a laugh, no wonder she was the odd one out.

“That can’t be it.”, you said confidently folding your arms.

“Fine. When does your day feel the best?”, she asked and as you thought back to certain moments of the day, you come only think of the moments he smiled at you.

“Ok, different question.”, she shifted her stance once she knew you hadn’t answered the first one.

“Where do feel at ease?”, she asked and the answer was instant.

“The beach.”, you lit up just thinking of the warm sand and salty air.

“Why?”, she asked and as the question settled it was as though your mind was not your own. Because all you could think of was him, his surf board, his platinum blonde hair being ruffled by the breeze, the smell of sea salt on him as his skin gleamed under the sun but as the other facts poured in, his eagerness to do foolish things just so he could impress Barbie, him passing you by at every turn, your head began to feel heavy.

It all fell into place now. You were heartbroken. Somehow in the high of it, this pain had found it’s way in.

“Unusual though, no Barbie worries about a Ken. He’s just another accessory.”, she turned away but it sparked an anger within you.

“How could you say that?”, you got up.

“Ken is so much more than that.”, you pressed your fingers on your forehead.

“I’m just stating facts.”, she said calmly while digging around for something.

But the facts seemed wrong. He wasn’t just an add on, he was just overlooked. Although many wouldn't agree, that was how you saw it, I'm every great even, he was left out.

“Alright, so you’ve got two options.”, she had a pair of rollerblades in one hand and in the other a heart shaped box of chocolates.

“Why don't you try the first one? Tell him how you feel.”, she gave you the chocolate box and patted your arm but somehow it was the worst possible solution.

“He’s a Ken. He’s bound to fall in love with you.”, she clicked her tongue and all you could feel was panic.

“What’s the second option?”, you asked and she pursed her lips.

“He’s in love with someone else.”, you argued.

“Well in that case –

But she was interrupted when you could hear the sound of heels clicking against the tiles on the stairs.

You turn to see stereotypical Barbie walk in, her complexion a little pale and her skin not so glossy under this light.

“Two Barbies in a day. That’s a record.”, weird Barbie commented as she moved to inspect her and you knew that you had to do your best effort with the first option because now that she was here, she couldn’t know why you were here to. So you gave her a smile and she returned it as you turned to leave. Thanking weird Barbie for her support, you walked down those stairs, clutching onto those box of chocolates like they were your cure.

Any outfit you had didn’t feel like the best, the nervousness was eating you away as you took a stroll down the streets near dream house. You knew where he would be, if he wasn’t on the beach, then he was sitting out by the steps of her house waiting to catch a glimpse of her.

And as you had predicted, he was there. Sitting in the middle, his long legs stretched out beneath the twilight sky as he fiddled with his thumbs as though he was bored. But the closer you approached, the quicker you spotted the forlorn expression on his face.

“You look a bit sad this evening.”, you stated, it got him to look up and you stopped to smooth down your skirt, knowing why you were here.

“Do I?”, he asked with confusion drenching the tone of his voice. You took a seat next to him but he looked like he was preoccupied with his thoughts.

“I don’t know why.”, he shook his head as he was slowly slipping back into his innocent and cheerful personality.

“Does being sad mess up your hair or crinkle your shirt?”, he turned to you suddenly, with worry etched in his eyes.

“I don’t think it does.”, you couldn’t help but smile because you knew nothing more than him when it came to feelings.

“Close call.”, he gave a low whistle as he set his already combed hair into place.

“I need to be perfect.”, he mumbled, his focus now on fixing his shirt.

And you thought that maybe this was the best time. To tell him that he didn’t have to be.

You pushed the chocolate box to him. Your actions getting his attention to flit back to you.

“You are perfect.”, you said not feeling strong enough to catch his gaze.

“and I like you as you are.”, you looked up at him only to see that his eyes were boring into yours, his elegant face wrinkling at the edges when various emotions flickered across his face. When it finally settled to one.

“But I’m not yours.”, he said quickly with an indifference but as a second passed his brows furrowed together and for the first time, Ken was angry.

“I’m not yours to like.”, he furrowed his brows and there wasn’t a particular moment you could point out but somewhere between hearing him say those words and the anger in his voice, it felt as though your heart had plummeted into the unknown depths of emptiness. The pain wasn’t just in your chest anymore. It was everywhere.

Barbie was heard talking to her friends a few feet away as she was approaching her house and all the bitterness on his face vanished as he turned to her.

“I have to leave to the real world.”, you could hear her and as your gaze followed Ken, you watched as the same hurt you felt, mirrored on his face. He had forgotten all about you and you just wanted to stay here, frozen forever.

“You’re leaving?”, he jogged up to her, you took the chocolate box used this diversion to walk away till the curb.

Once in the clear, you began to run, you wanted to leave everything behind.

---

Tags:

@ateliefloresdaprimavera @meowkid1000

#barbie movie 2023 #barbie movie #ken barbie #barbie #ryan gosling ken #ryan gosling #im just ken #ken carson #ken x reader

539 notes · View notes

maryleclerc · 11 months

Text

𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 — charles leclerc

pairing: prince!charles leclerc x reader

summary: just another version of 𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐫, prince charles leclerc cheated on his wife and confessed

author note: NO HATE TOWARD CHARLOTTE SINE !

read the my royal series here

au: this is my first time write a full one-shot or long imagine so please forgive me if i made any mistake. would be great if you can give some opinion, advice after reading this 🫶🏻 there no part 2 of this, and i might delete it anytime so not sure if i will keep it or not

warning: english is my native language, use google translation, grammar mistaken. but i won’t call it a part of the 𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 series, i made cause so much people wanted to read it so it’s going to be a sad end, please if you don’t like this end… scroll or just don’t read it at all. love ya!)

Charles and I have been married for 3 years, we have a 2 years old son together, according to the royal plan arranged for both of us, as it was plan today we will got to Italy because in a few days we will attend the F1 Grand Prix race in Italy this year but it coincides with the wedding date of my best friend in London, not wanting to let the Italians down because of the broken promise. We have decided, Charles going to attend the race in Italy in the next few days, me and Christian are going to attend my best friend wedding in London.

"Morning mon amour, is Christian awake yet baby?" Charles asked me and came up to where I was standing and kissed my forehead, he has been act to strange for the past few month he use to to kiss me on the lips every morning and before bedtime. But now he only kiss me once or sometime he does not kiss me at all.

"He haven’t, can you help me wake him up handsome?" I look up and smile at Charles and kiss him on the lips.

“Of course i can.” He replies and leaves his phone on the table before goes into our son room, Christian to wake him up.

Just a few seconds after Charles walked into our son room to wake him up, Charles' phone vibrated constanly. i didn't mean to see who’s texted him at first but because it kept vibrate so I thought maybe it was something to urgent and needed my husband so I walked over to grab Charles phone but right at the moment i pick it up, the phone lights up once again and the name Kristiana Bailee was pop up in his phone screen… It’s his ex girlfriend, the famous actress Kristiana Bailee

Everything would've been fine if she hadn't sent another text message saying, "Can't wait to be with you in Italy baby… does your wife know?"

My heart just drop imediatly, don’t know how to react, should i throw his phone away? she even calls my husband baby? and then I heard Charles's voice coming out of Christian's room and I quickly turn off the phone, put it back down and wiped all my tears away before Charles could see it.

I walk over and put breakfast i just made on the table for Charles and Christian and i turned walk straight to our share bedroom. He notice it’s very unusual for me to skip breakfast today, I never skip breakfast because it's so important.

"Wait Y/n, you don't eat breakfast today?" Charles asked

"Yea, i feel a bit dizzy because i couldn't sleep last night, so I'm still a bit tired now, please wake me up at 8am so I can get Christian change and then we have to arrive at the airport on time" I said but still didn't turn to look at Charles, because I was afraid, I was afraid that if I turned to look into those eyes of Charles again I would see those images, the images of Charles looking at her with those eyes, eyes that I thought were only for me.

The clock strikes 8 o'clock Charles wakes me up, I change Christian's clothes and Charles prepares the car to drive us to the airport on time so we can arrive at London on time and Charles will go to Italy to "her" the famous actress. When we got to the airport, Charles hugged me and Christian tightly

“I love you, mon a'mour and have a safe flight” Charles said and kissed me on the lips, I have to kiss these lips because it will probably be the last kiss from Charles that I get, then he kiss Christian once again

“Charles, you have a safe flight too and enjoy the race baby” I smiled and said, does Charles recognize this smile? a sad smile, “Christian say bye bye papa, see you at home.” I turn to Christian. “Bye bye paapa” His cute little voice makes me feel a bit soothed. Before Charles can say anything, I turned away and got into the plane as fast as i can before he can see another tear run down my eyes

As soon as Christian and I arrived in London, our friends were there to pick us up, no matter what, I will make the most of my days in London and just forget everything that happened back to Monte Carlo.

2 days later

After 2 days spending all my energy for my girls wedding day, today me and Christian had to leave London to go back to Monte Carlo and it’s 6am, we’ve to catch a flight in 9am so i think it’s best to get yourself ready while Christian still asleep. I pack mine and Christian lugguage, after finish I open my phone to check who’s texting me in this early morning, one of my other bestfriend Céline back in Monte Carlo just sent me a link and the next she text me “WTF?! Are you okay?”

I click onto that link, and it’s show an images of Charles and Kristiana kissing eachother at Italy Grand Prix.

The i started to read every single word that was exist in that news

“Three years after Prince Charles Leclerc and Princess Y/n married, people whom attended today race at the Formula 1 Italian Grand Prix got caught Prince Charles Leclerc of Monte Carlo kissing another woman, it is none other than actress Kristiana Bailee, it’s known that the two have a history dating but after 2 years together, the two of them decided to end their relationship then Prince Charles Leclerc found the love of his life is Y/n Y/l/n (Princess Y/n of Monte Carlo now) and together they have a 2-year-old son, Prince Christian Arthur of Monte Carlo.

It could be said that this was an affair and this has led to media criticism of the way Prince Charles Leclerc and actress Kristiana Bailee act in public. Accordingly, Princess Y/m is not present at the Grand Prix race in Italy today is because she has to attend the wedding of her close friend in London.

So far, the Royal Family has not made any announcement about this information.”

My heart sink once again, i felt like i cannot breath anymore… they’re now making it public. During the flight from London back to Monte Carlo, I sat with Christian on my lap and pondered over how to react when I met Charles, I might be angry uncontrollably. As soon as I got home from the airport, I saw Charles' car parked at the front gate of the house, so I gave Christian to the babysitter. I went straight into the living room where Charles was sitting, and as soon as I entered I immediately asked Charles.

“Do you love her? Kristiana Bailee” I ask him with a calm voice and show him the images that those people has taken of them kissing, trying to calm myself down cause i just don’t want to hurt anyone while we’re having this kind of converstion

“Y/n, it’s not what its look like, you have to trus-” He start to explain a little, trying to walk across the big sofa to grab me

“Do you fucking in love with her? CHARLES FUCKING LECLERC! JUST FUCKING ANSWER MY QUESTION” I raise my voice at Charles, then bridge of my nose start to feel uncomfortable and a stream of tears ran down my face. Charles hated to make me cry, he once said to me that i don’t deserve who make me cry… but now here he is the one who make my heartbreak into small pieces and cry my eyes out

“I’m so sorry Y/n, and no i’m not inlove with her. I just don’t fucking know why i’ve done all of this shit” He said with a sad, regret voice then i continued to ask him “How long? Charles how long have you and that bitch been doing this behind my back?”

“You know what Charles, never mind” I didn't even care to hear his answer, I turned and walked out of the room with an unbearably gloomy atmosphere. Charles chased after me and grabbed my arm so tight as if I could disappear into thin air at any moment.

“Please don’t leave, Y/n please” Charles begging me to stay and look straight at me into my eyes

“Charles I already know everything, everything from the day you came to Italy Grand Prix, but I still trust that you would never do such things. But when I found out the truth, and also the everything, it really made me extremely disappointed! Why do you do such things that you’ve promise me? do you think our 9 years relationship and 3 fucking years of marriage doesn't mean anything? If you not think about me when you’re with her, you atleast think of our son Christian, how do you think he would feel when he’s old enough and found out that the reason his parents divorced was because his father was secretly FUCKING another woman behind his mother back? and that’s other woman is his father ex lover. It’s hurt me so bad Charles my heart ache everytime i saw those images got posted everywhere on every social platform” I said while crying, Charles look shock when he heard the word “divorce”

“No we are not going to get a divorce Y/n. Hit me, shout at me or do whatever you want but please don’t get a divorce” Charles said, i snapp back “NO CHARLES THERE ARE NO FUCKING WAY TO WORK THIS SHIT OUT ANYMORE, IT’S OVER” I storm out of our house.

689 notes · View notes

letsgetrowdy43 · 8 months

Text

Domestic bliss—

Quinn Hughes x reader

Request: Quinn asking his girlfriend to move in with him

Quinn had been on a two-week roadie, and by the end of the second week, he wanted nothing more than to fly back to his apartment, to her, so he could be held in the comfort of his bed.

When the time came and he was home, pulling out his keys and unlocking the door, he was met with the reality of his dark and cold apartment. His house looked the same and when he had left, it was untouched and unloved in his absence and he hated it.

Quinn sent her a text asking her to come over for the night as he entered his bathroom to shower, the stress of the away games rolling off of his back with every step into his apartment, making it a ritual to leave the stress of work at the door, not bringing it into his safe space.

A soft smile took over his face as he opened his cabinet mirror to see her toothbrush in the cup, and many other little self-care items she had left in their designated spot in his bathroom. He loved that she took up room in his life, loved that he could go into every room in his apartment and see reminders of her, she was a constant presence and he loved it. Almost as much as he loved her.

She got in the door just as he got out of the shower, a shy smile on her lips as he walked out of the bathroom with wet hair and a towel around his waist. "Hey dove," his cheeks grew flushed as he walked into the kitchen where she was leaning up against the counter, a growing grin on his face as she pulled him in for a hug, "missed you so much, you have no idea." "I think I have some idea," she whispered back, taking a deep breath and inhaling the smell of soft eucalyptus radiating off of him as she pulled away, she took his face into her hands and planted a kiss right on his lips, "now get dressed, I wanna make dinner and watch a movie."

He made a bee-line to his room to grab some clothes, a warm smile on his face as she trailed right behind him. Quinn dug up some pyjamas for himself and her, handing her an old shirt to change into as well, his eyes wandering as she stripped herself of her work shirt, a smirk on his lips as she caught his stare. "Creep," she mumbled as he shook his head. "Just admiring how perfect you are," he shrugged as she pulled the shirt over her head. The look of his old Michigan shirt on her made him weak in the knees, adoring how heavenly she looked, the fabric showing just the right amount of thigh, she was honestly an angel Her laugh was like music to his ears as she kissed both of his cheeks, her heart pounding as his hands gently squeezed her torso, never getting used to how electrifying his touch was on her skin.

She then stripped herself of her jeans, "can you grab me the shorts I left here last month," another example of her life overlapping with his, the thought of her clothes mixed in with his made him feel a little dizzy, the domesticity of it all was perfect. "And what if I don't want to?" he asked, a hint of suggestion in his voice as she rolled her eyes at him. "You want me to make dinner in my underwear?" He looked at her with a knowing look, "I wouldn't object." She let out a huff of fake annoyance, "fine," she grinned before making her way to the kitchen.

She stood over the stove, a grin on her face as she began making breakfast for dinner, his favourite comfort food. He loved how she just knew things about him like that, it made him feel all bubbly inside, heart-melting even.

He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her torso, head dipping in the crook of her neck as she started the scrambled eggs, "Dove, I think I'm obsessed with you," he mumbled into her skin, hands gripping her his shirt. Her face grew hot at the confession, but she played it off as if it had no effect whatsoever, "sounds a bit like a 'you' problem Q." "It is a problem, and a growing one, I can't get enough of you," he placed a wet kiss on the exposed skin of her neck, a chill running up her spine at the purest form of love he was displaying.

"I'm gonna burn the eggs if you keep it up." "Burn them for all I care, just need you," he grinned at the vibrations her laugh sent through him. "You can have me all you want the moment you're fed and we are in bed watching a movie" she reasoned as he let out a pretend groan and returned to unpacking his away bag.

Once dinner was done and eaten Quinn had taken it upon himself to load up the dishwasher, not wanting to put in the energy of hand washing, as she readied herself for bed and picked out the movie for the night.

She laid basically on top of Quinn as he ran his fingers through her hair, limbs a tangled mess as they watched whatever comedy she had decided to play. "You played really well this trip, you're getting really close to beating that record," she grinned into his skin. "You've been keeping up with my stats?" he asked, voice hoarse from the tired state he was in. "Of course, I watch every game," She moved up on the bed to be face-to-face with him, "I think I'm obsessed with you," she quoted him with a grin as he leaned forward to peck her on the lips.

He stared at her for a second, eyes tracing over her features, words on the tip of his tongue as her fingers ran up and down the length of his arm. "Y'know I was gone for two weeks and you were all I could think about," he whispered, his thumb gently running over the apples of her cheek, "and how I couldn’t wait to get home to you, I've never felt that way about anyone before."

She blinked, her eyes full of adoration as she smiled at his confession, "I missed you an unhealthy amount, always forget how much the distance sucks," her hand held the wrist of his that was cradling her face. "I'm sorry" "Don't apologize for living out your dreams," she shook her head slightly, "besides if you weren't you we never would've met, and I would never have the bragging rights that I have a hot superstar defenseman boyfriend, what's the fun in that?" He laughed as she leaned forward and kissed just below his eye, "I never really believed in soulmates, but if life had been different, I still think we would've made our way to each other," he mumbled, arm looping around her waist to pull her into his chest, chin resting on top of her head, "I would've made sure to find you, in this life, and every other one after it." "You're such a sap," he laughed again, her lips placed gentle open-mouthed kisses to his arm.

"All week I was itching to get home, and when I got here everything felt so wrong." "Why?" "You weren't here, my house was lacking my real home, you," he said truthfully, Her eyes began to water at his words, head dizzy from the amount of love she was holding for him. "And it made me realize that I don't think I ever want to come home to a house if you're not living with me in it," she pulled away to look at him again, his crooked smile found its way onto his expression, and his eyes were filled with some sort of relief from the revelation.

She returned his smile with a dopey grin, "are you asking me to move in?" "Only if you want to Dove, if you're not ready, that's okay, but I'd love to know that when I get home you'll be here waiting for me." The girl placed a kiss on the hand intertwined with her, "I'll always be here for you, for however long you'll have me," she admitted, a bit embarrassed by how her eyes had begun to water again and face filled with bush at her confession. "So forever sounds good to you?" she nodded as he dipped his head down to capture her lips in a slow kiss, not one filled with hunger, or desperation, no, one that showed his love for her. It was tender and caring, and so full of emotion that even his eyes began to fill with tears.

And in that moment he knew that this wasn't just about having some sort of domestic bliss with her, this was a future in the making, a whole life flashing before his eyes as her hands gently tugged at his damp curls. Melodic laughter left her lips as he broke away for a second to whisper a short ‘I love you’ before pulling her as close as humanly possible in to his chest.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes blurb #vancouver canucks

417 notes · View notes

prentisssgf · 5 days

Text

| emma, emily

| criminal minds

| emily prentiss x reader

| fluff

| 3274 words

Your girlfriend, Emily Prentiss died seven months ago, it came as a shook to everyone but it hit you the hardest and to no one's surprise, you overworked yourself so much as it was now the anniversary so you needed to take a couple of days off.

"You're gonna want to come in for this one" your boss sighed over the phone.

"Alright fine, I'll be there as soon as I can" you mumbled getting out of bed.

An hour later, you had showered and were in work, you all sat around the round table, Hotch was explaining something but you couldn't really hear, not that you were intentionally ignoring him, you were just focusing on nothing in particular.

So when you looked up and you found everyone facing the door, you naturally drifted your eyes there too and there she was, Emily Prentiss.

What? Emily was alive? your girlfriend was alive all this time? all of a sudden you felt more dizzy than you already had, you were 100% sure that you were hallucinating and that you were making this up, until she hugged you, this time, her body was cold and rigid, not like her usual warm hugs, so this definitely was a dream, Emily placed a gentle hand to your cheeks to caress it slowly, you just stood there though, too afraid that if you'll reach back she'll disappear just as quickly.

"Y/N you can't imagine how I feel-" she started, anger rose within you.

"Emily can I talk to you in my office please, right now" you nodded to JJ's old office down the hall, you got there and then locked the door while she sat down on the couch "You can't Imagine how I feel" you quoted back to her "I grieved you for seven fucking months Emily, I lost the one thing that was important to me and I visited your grave every single week, for the first two months I hated myself, I hated myself for not seeing the signs and I hated myself for not being able to get to the hospital sooner, and I absolutely hated you"

"You hated me?-" you cut her off.

"My turn to speak" you barked "Do not come back here and act like everything is fine because it's not, I'm so confused with you, you couldn't have given me-oh I don't know- a heads up that you actually WERE alive?" tears thrashing down your face as you paced the room.

"Y/N please if you could just give me a chance and listen to me" she groaned.

"Why on Earth would I listen to you?" you ran your hands through your hair and huffed.

"Because-" Emily was interrupted by a knock on the door by Hotch.

"You two can go home now" he nodded.

"I- I actually don't-" Emily started, you knew what she was getting at.

"Come on" you heavily sighed as you picked up yours and Emily's to go bags as she followed you like a lost puppy to your car.

The two of you drove home in an uncomfortable silence, you gave her the silent treatment as she tried to explain herself.

It wasn't until you actually got in to your apartment that she finally started talking.

"Y/N-"

"No"

"But"

"Nope"

"Just listen to me"

"Why would I do that?"

"Because I love you, I'm still in love with you" she cried, you spun around on your heels and walked up to her, glancing over her to see if she was lying, your speciality was body language in human behaviour, so naturally you were able to tell if someone was lying or not, but if Emily Prentiss wasn't a damn good liar.

"How am I supposed to believe that?"

"Because every single minute of every day I thought of you and I wanted you I only wanted you"

"Em you said the same thing before you left" you sighed as you sat down on the armchair across from Emily, your hands covering your eyes, she didn't say anything so you just sighed and walked into the kitchen to make some food "lasagna okay?" you looked back and she looked up at you and nodded and smiled slightly.

"I died" she whispered after 15 minutes of silence.

"What?" you slung a tea towel over your shoulder and turned around.

"I coded in the ambulance, I died" she whispered slightly louder.

"Oh" you turned the stove off and walked towards her "oh honey" you squatted down on your knees in front of her "I'm sorry I acted like this, I didn't even give you a chance to explain yourself" you sighed, disappointed in yourself at the way you've been acting.

"I get it" Emily forced herself to laugh slightly "If the roles were reversed I would've acted the same way too"

"I'll get us drinks and you can tell me what happened?" you offered.

"Hmm" Emily agreed.

You got up to make the waters both of you silent, you sat next to her on the couch, putting your water on the coffee table as she had hers in between her hands.

"Whenever you're ready to talk I'm here" you smiled, extending your arm to tuck her hair behind her ears as you gave her a gentle warm smile.

"Mommy?" you heard a small voice walking out of a room "mommy who's that?" Emily turned around to see who that was and to her surprise she saw a small toddler walking out of one of the room's of your apartment, blanket in hand she made her way towards you, you turned to silently ask Emily if she was okay and she nodded.

"Hi baby" you smiled picking her up meeting her halfway "Let's get you back to bed, hmm?" you smiled, swiping her from her forehead.

"Okay" she yawned tirelessly "Who's that though?" she pushed the question again, you sighed and looked back over at Emily who was now looking down at her mug.

"She's just a friend sweetie" you smiled as you rubbed her back "did we wake you?" you said before opening her door to her room.

She kept her head down tucked into your chest but you still felt her nodding "Oh baby I'm sorry" you kissed her head, before lying her down in her bed "I love you" you kissed her cheek and then pulled the blanket up.

"I love you too mommy" she yawned and rolled onto her side, making you slightly laugh.

"I'll talk more about it with you tomorrow okay?" you smiled tucking her curly hair behind her ears once more

"Okay" she smiled.

You walked out quietly and shut the door behind her, you started walking over to the kitchen to get you and Emily both a fresh glass of water, you placed them down on the table and sighed as you fell back in to the couch.

"Em" you sighed, your head now in your hands "look-" you got cut off.

"You have a daughter?" her voice came out as a shock but she grabbed your hand.

You nodded "I adopted her a month after you.. you know...she's 4, her name is Emma" Emily looked up at you in surprise and awe

"The name was just a complement coincidence, but I saw it as a sign" you shrugged "I love Emma more than anything in this world and if you want to make it work- if you want to make us work, you're going to have to let Emma in too"

"I know that and I understand that" she smiled nodding her head.

"Good" you smiled as you curled yourself further into her and smiled.

"Are you coming to bed?" you groaned as you stood up from the couch a few hours later.

"I was gonna take the couch" Emily smiled nervously, her hand reaching the back of her neck.

"Em" you sighed "It's okay, I don't mind you can sleep with me but if you want to sleep on the couch I totally understand" you leaned down to kiss her forehead.

"I'll take the bed" she smiled, pulling you down to kiss her lips.

☆

"Good morning" you smiled at Emily, looking down she was curled up on your chest, your hands ran through her hair, untangling the knots slightly.

"Hi baby" she looked up at you and smiled, your heart was racing, this was exactly like it was 8 months ago and honestly you wanted to wake up to this sight every morning "what are you thinking about hmm?" she smiled as she realised that you were staring at her for a few minutes without saying anything.

"I just.. I just I love you" if your heart wasn't beating quickly, it definitely was now, you had been together with Emily for four years, sure you said it enough times but this time, actually losing her, you meant it more than anything in your life.

"I love you too" she smiled as she swung her legs over you and started to kiss you, which made you giggle.

"Mommy" you heard a small voice come through on the baby monitor

"I'm sorry baby, come with me?" you offered.

Emily nodded and smiled, she kissed you again and again all over your face as you started giggling.

"Hi honey" you smiled as you sat down on Emma's bed "why are you up at 6am?" you smiled curiously as you started stroking her curly hair, exactly like you were doing with Emily minutes earlier.

"Um..." she started to trail off and she looked down at her fingernails.

"Hey" you pulled her hands apart gently and pulled her towards you for her to sit on your lap "whatever it is, you can talk to me about it..." you looked up at Emily standing in the doorway "or my friend Emily, if you like" you looked over at her and she had the biggest grin on her face, she walked over to you both and squatted in front of you two.

"I had a nightmare again" her little body racked with sobs, she was embarrassed so she tucked herself in to you "I was a bad girl waking you up"

"Baby no" you pushed her shoulders out so you could see her tear stained face "there is nothing you could ever do that would make me believe that, if you ever and I mean ever, need to talk to me I will always be here, no matter what time okay, just like you did today, that was so great Emma, you did a very grown up thing and told me when you were having a nightmare instead of just staying in your room" you wiped her tears and kissed her again and wrapped your arms tightly around her.

She had started getting nightmares about 4 months in to living with you, she woke you up every time and you were glad that she trusted you that much, you knew that it was going to take some time for her to open up to you and it was a surprise to both of you for it to be so quickly.

The nightmare consisted of the same thing, you still hadn't gotten all of it yet but you got the basics; bad man, chasing after mommy, leaving Emma all on her own, that's all you could figure out right now.

"Okay" you cooed as you rubbed her back, whispering small nothings into her ear telling her it's going to be okay "It's only a dream sweetheart and I'm right here, always" you smiled as you kissed her head again.

"Can I try something?" Emily whispered to you, you smiled and nodded, perplexed at how much she was great with children "Hi sweetheart" she smiled as Emma started to turn around, still tucked in to your chest, but her full attention now on Emily "my name is Emily" she smiled "what's your name?" she reached out slowly to grab her hand.

Nodding to prompt her to understand that it's okay to talk to her "Emma" she whispered as she looked up at you, while grabbing Emily's finger with her whole hand.

"Emma, that's a lovely name" Emily and Emma both smiled, Emma looked up at you and grinned making you smile slightly.

"Thank you 'Mily" Emma smiled as she couldn't say Emily properly yet.

"So I hear you're having nightmares, can you tell me about them?" Emily reached out to tuck some hair behind her ears.

Emma looked up at you once more "you can tell her baby, it's okay" you smiled.

Emma explained the nightmares, putting her full trust in Emily, but turning away quickly, embarrassed at the fact that she did that "you did so great Em" you kissed Emma's head as you mouthed a silent thank you to Emily, who just nodded and smiled.

"Emma?" Emily questioned with her voice low, as Emma turned around slightly.

"You can sit on my bed if you want to" Emma smiled.

"Are you sure?" Emily asked and Emma just nodded "Emma what I was going to say was it's okay to have nightmares, there are loads and loads and loads and loads of people who have nightmares" the exaggeration made them both giggle, Emma already feeling better slightly "I have nightmares sometimes, and so does mommy" Emma looked up and you and you nodded.

"I do, but that doesn't make me a bad mommy right?" Emma shook her head.

"So that doesn't make you a bad baby either" you booped her nose which made her crinkle it which made you and Emily both laugh.

"Are you feeling a little bit better?" you smiled at her, she nodded.

"Good girl, you wanna get some breakfast?" you grinned "pancakes?"

"YES" Emma shouted making you and Emily laugh.

Emma shuffled out of your arms and stood up, patiently waiting for you and Emily to stand up too and go in to the kitchen.

"Mily you come too?" Emma looked up at Emily and smiled.

"Yeah sweetheart I'm coming" Emily laughed as Emma squealed, Emma quickly reached out to take Emily's hand to drag her down the hallway in to the kitchen, you grabbed your phone to take a quick picture.

You followed them in to the kitchen and you sat Emma on the counter in front of you while you made the pancakes.

"Can I help?" Emily came up behind you and placed a hand on your waist, you turned around to kiss her lips quickly while Emma was distracted.

"Absolutely" you grinned, thankful that Emily was quick to love Emma as much as you.

"Em?" you questioned "you wanna pick the music?"

"Disney songs" Emma shouted excitedly as she pumped her fists in to the air which made you and Emily smile.

"You got it, little lady" you winked as you shuffled the playlist you both made a few months ago.

It took a while longer to make the pancakes because you were all dancing and singing in the kitchen, after you did because it was both a day off for you and Emily you took Emma to the zoo and the park.

☆

"When we get here, you have to stay next to us, okay? no running off yeah?" you looked at Emma in the rear view mirror in the car, you drove and Emily was sat next to you in the passenger seat and Emma was sitting behind you.

"Yeah" Emma nodded as she absentmindedly hummed along to the radio.

"Alright" you smiled and blew her a kiss through the mirror.

It didn't take long to get to the zoo, but when you did, she stuck by you the entire time, sometimes running ahead slightly when she was excited for a specific animal but she always made sure you could see her.

Later in the day, around 2pm Emily walked up to a member of staff and three men while you had a slightly tired Emma in your arms, you could see her flash her badge and he walked away.

"Hey what was that?" you whispered as you walked up to her, thankful Emma was asleep.

"Some asshole was shoving that member of staff and he pushed him to the floor and his friends joined him" Emily shrugged.

You kissed Emily "superwoman" you replied "but seriously you're the best" you kissed her once more.

While you walked around a little more, Emma woke up but she still settled in your arms, when a member of staff walked up to you all "Emily Prentiss?" you both turned around.

"Hmm?" Emily nodded.

"I just wanted to thank you for what you did and I was wondering if you and your family wanted maybe a tour around the zoo? for free?"

You and Emily both looked at each other before looking at Emma who was profusely nodding and grinning.

"Thank you we would love that" Emily smiled "but honestly it wasn't a problem"

After your tour you decided to get some ice cream and skip the park and go straight home because she was sleeping.

☆

You drove home and you walked in with Emma and Emily took in the car seat and the rest of the bags.

You bathed Emma and you and Emily walked in to her room.

You and Emily sat on Emma's bed when she stood up and whispered in your ear "Can I sit on Emily's lap?" you had an arm rested around Emma's back for balance as she stood up, trying to hold back the biggest grin on your face, you nodded "of course baby, just ask her first" you smiled.

"Mily?" you both looked over at her, Emily's eyes darting in between yours and Emma's.

"Yeah honey?" Emily smiled.

Emma looked back at you and you nodded promptly at her "Can I?..." Emma trailed off, almost embarrassed at her question.

"She wants to know if she can sit on your lap" you smiled.

Emily's eyes began to water slightly "really?" she mouthed and you nodded "of course you can"

"Go" you nodded at Emma to Emily and her face lit up, she bounced from you to Emily who hugged her straight away.

"Too late for a story?" Emma pouted.

"Um no" you checked the time to see it was nearing 8pm "no it's not which one do you want me to get baby?" you shifted yourself off the bed and kissed her head as you kneeled in front of her bookcase.

"Guess how much I love you" she smirked.

"Alright" you got the book out of the shelf and sat down next to Emily.

About halfway through the book Emma completely fell asleep hugging Emily, truthfully none of you wanted to move so you decided to stay where you were for about 10 minutes.

"I want you to stay" you nodded "you're great with Emma and she already trusts you so much I'll talk to her about you staying forever but I need to make sure you want to do that forever first" you breathed out, running your hands through Emma's hair.

"I want to" Emily nodded "I want to do this with you, I want to be your family, I would never take your role as a mother to Emma but I do want to raise her with you, I want to be her other mother"

"Yeah?" tears streaming down your face as you sobbed.

"Yeah" Emily affirmed, you leaned in to kiss her, and then Emma's head.

"I just love you" you smiled.

"I can't wait to do this with you forever" Emily smiled, tears streaming down her face now.

"Forever"

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #paget brewster #criminal minds x you #emily x reader #emily x you

104 notes · View notes

peachesofteal · 8 months

Note

oh the image of Simon holding Darling while Johnny holds Bee in the latest baby trap installment 🥹 I just want so much more of them just being there trying to support Darling while repenting for their mistakes, even when she fights them the whole way

🍄

Beautiful mushroom anon is referencing this.

The guys are so... annoying. Concerned. Loving. Doting. I hate them. I love them. I could write an entire fic of this angst/pining/let us help you mess. I want them showing up at every beck and call, every whim. Groveling. Crying. I want it all. (I will also probably write it all for disco baby because that's the one that's going to be a full fic.)

18+ MDNI / baby trap au / dark and mature themes

"I'm here, I've got ya." You murmur, patting Bee's back while you hold her over your shoulder, trying to bounce her just a bit, enough to get her to burp. The movements work fairly quickly, and then you're leaning back again, foot rest coming rising under your feet and tucking your giant fleece blanket up around your waist with one hand.

"Need help?" Johnny asks, and you shake your head.

"No." Be nicer, they're being super helpful. You can't help but eye him with suspicion while he smiles shyly at you, perched on the opposite end of the other couch in your living room, fingers tapping together with nervous energy.

"Do you want to try to eat some lunch?" Simon sits a tray down on the cushion beside you, a plate with a sandwich and your favorite fruits already sliced up, along with a peanut butter smoothie. He's deposited your water bottle, refilled, on the side table next to you, within arm's reach if you need it.

Bee coos with a sleepy smile, pressing her face to your chest and you blow out a breath. She's going to fall asleep on you, again.

You could give her to one of the guys...

No. Just because they come over here, and take care of you, and wait on you hand and foot, doesn't mean you forgive them.

You do not forgive them.

The peanut butter smoothie calls to you, it's perfect consistency, perfect taste something you haven't had in so long, since before you left them. You want a sip, or to just down the whole thing, you want-

A cough scrapes across the bottom of your lungs.

You turn your face away from Bee instinctively, but you're not strong enough right now to really hold her from your body, and your shoulders tense as you try to draw a breath. Fucking pneumonia. Fuck.

"Take-" you croak, and Simon reads it, scooping the baby from your arms before you start to shake with the effort of your wheezing. It makes you lightheaded, and dizzy, and your eyes blink slowly after the fit is over, trying to get your equilibrium right.

Suddenly, you're exhausted. All over again. It's frustrating, increasingly so, and your patience has run thin. It's overwhelming, and frightening, how you could have gotten this ill, and now- now you're crying.

"Oh, darling." Johnny whispers, and you shake your head.

"'m fine." you sob out a protest. Jesus Christ. You are pathetic. This is so embarrassing.

"I know ye are, I know." Neither of them move, waiting, holding their breath. They don't want to push you, don't want to encroach on your very established boundaries, so they'll wait, which is even more frustrating at times, because it feels like they're trying to draw you out, push you to your limit even if that's not what's happening. "Please, can... can I help? Do ye want to go lay down?" Johnny's inched closer now, close enough you can see the sparkling blue of his eyes, his sweet and concerned face that watches every movement you make.

The dark of your room sounds so nice, so much easier, and you nod miserably.

"Alright, come on. I've got ye." He coos, and then wraps an arm around you, plucking you from the couch like Simon plucked the baby from your arms. "Bee's right behind us." He assures, because he knows you'll flip out, and sure enough, you hear her sleepy babbles over his shoulder. "We're all just gon' have a bit of a rest, yeah?" Simon situates her in the bassinet in your room, while Johnny places you slowly onto your bed. He hovers, watching while you peel back the covers and snuggle yourself down into them, turning on your side until you can't see either of them.

The baby monitor is deposited on the pillow next to you, while Simon murmurs something about being just outside if you need them.

Whatever. You roll your eyes but something, something very small, very far away in your heart, echoes with a ping of gratitude, and you and Bee drift off for an afternoon nap.

#peaches asks #🍄 anon #peaches writes #baby trap au #soap x reader x ghost #ghoap x reader #soap x ghost x reader

314 notes · View notes

mswritergirl02 · 19 days

Text

Pure Paranoia

Summary: Y/n smokes for the first time and gets too high

->Reader Advisory: This story involves themes related to marijuana use. Please proceed with caution if you are sensitive to or uncomfortable with such content.

A/N : This is my very first post ! I’m excited to see where this account goes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n sat on the edge of Riah's couch, her fingers nervously tapping against her thigh as she watched her friends pass around a joint. The sweet scent of marijuana filled the air, swirling around her like a seductive dance, tempting her to join in.

Riah noticed Y/n's hesitation and leaned in with a mischievous grin. "Come on, Y/n, don't be such a goody-two-shoes. Just one hit won't hurt."

Zela nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Yeah, you've gotta try it at least once! It's not like you're doing anything wrong."

Y/n bit her lip, her heart racing with uncertainty. She had always been the innocent one of the group, never straying too far from her comfort zone. The thought of smoking weed for the first time sent a thrill of fear and excitement coursing through her veins.

"I don't know, guys. I've never smoked marijuana before," Y/n admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Riah rolled her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief. "You can call it weed, Y/n come on, Live a little! You're always so uptight."

Zela chimed in, her voice gentle but persuasive. "It's not a big deal, Y/n. Just take a puff and see how you feel. You might like it."

With a shaky breath, Y/n reached out and accepted the joint, her fingers trembling slightly as she brought it to her lips. The smoke burned her throat, making her cough and sputter as she tried to inhale.

"Easy there, girl," Riah teased, patting her back as she handed her a soda can.

Five hits later Y/n found herself sipping on that same can, trying to calm her racing heart as the effects of the weed began to take hold.

At first, it was just a pleasant buzz, a feeling of warmth and relaxation washing over her like a gentle wave. But as the minutes ticked by, Y/n's world began to spin out of control.

The room seemed to warp and distort around her, the colors bleeding together in a dizzying kaleidoscope of light and sound.

“Hey, have I told you about that guy I met last weekend?"

Zela's interest was piqued, and she turned to Riah with a grin.

"No, spill the tea! What's his deal?"

Riah chuckled, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger. "Well, his name is Alex, and let me tell you, he's got some serious charm. We hit it off right away."

Zela's eyes widened in excitement. "Ooh, sounds promising. What's he like?"

Riah's smile widened, her cheeks flushing with color. "He's funny, for one thing. And he's got this way of looking at you that makes you feel like you're the only person in the room."

Zela nudged Riah playfully, a teasing grin on her face. "Sounds like someone's got a crush."

Riah's cheeks grew even redder, but she couldn't suppress the grin that spread across her face. "Maybe I do. But don't tell anyone, okay? I want to see where this goes first."

Zela winked, her smile knowing. "Your secret's safe with me. Just remember to play it cool, okay? You don't want to scare him off."

Y/n tried hard to focus on the conversation swirling around her, but the words seemed to slip through her fingers like grains of sand. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps as she struggled to keep her composure. She felt as if every part of her body was twitching.

How does anyone enjoy this?

"Y/n, are you okay?" Riah's voice cut through the fog of Y/n's mind, filled with concern.

Shit speak you haven’t said anything in 10 minutes

Y/n nodded, her mouth dry as cotton as she tried to form words. Taking another sip of her soda she mumbled, "I'm fine, just...just a little lightheaded."

Oh god, I feel nauseous.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n's heart raced with panic as she sat in the backseat of her friend's car, the effects of the weed controlling her mind. What would she tell Harry? Would he notice? With his friends over, the thought of facing their judgment sent a shiver down her spine.

Of course, he’s going to know your high anyone in their right mind could see you’re tripping fucking balls.

God, I wish Riah would roll up her window I’m freezing.

As they pulled up to her apartment building, Y/n plastered on a fake smile and told her friends goodbye, trying to hide the turmoil raging inside her. She took a deep breath, preparing herself.

She dragged her now heavy feet up the stairs and pulled out her keychain trying to unlock the front door to her and Harry’s shared apartment but instead, her tangled keychain slipped from her trembling fingers and fell to the floor.

"Fuck," she cursed under her breath, pushing her now knotted hair from her face bending down to pick them up.

Why the fuck are there so many keys on this thing. I should really take some off... I don't even use half of these keys.

She finally managed to grasp the key and insert it into the lock, but her mind was so clouded with panic that she struggled to turn it.

Inside, Harry and his friends exchanged curious glances as they heard the commotion outside the door.

Why won’t this fucking door op-

Before Harry could get up to investigate, the door swung open and Y/n stumbled inside, her hair messy and her bloodshot red eyes wide with panic.

As she entered, Harry's gaze met hers, and she saw the flicker of concern in his eyes. His raised eyebrow didn't escape her notice, sending a shiver of unease down her spine.

Act normal. Act fucking normal.

"Hey," she stammered, her voice barely audible as she tried to break the suffocating silence. She couldn’t help but feel as though all of their eyes were staring into her soul.

They know

Harry's expression softened slightly, but she could still see the worry etched into his features. "Welcome home love, you alright?," he questioned gently, his gentle british accent a soothing presence amidst the tension.

Y/n forced a smile, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Yeah, just had a bit of trouble with my keys," she mumbled, avoiding his gaze as she shuffled past him and his friends.

Harry frowned, but before he could press further, his friends' curious stares reminded him of their presence. Clearing his throat, he turned to face them with a forced grin. "Alright, lads, back to business. Who's up for another round of—"

But Y/n's voice cut through his words, her stomach growling loudly as she caught sight of the pizza box sitting on the kitchen table. Her mouth watered at the delicious aroma

"Pizza?" she blurted out, her eyes widening with hunger as she made a beeline for the box.

Harry's friends exchanged amused glances, their lips quirking up in smirks as they watched Y/n's eager reaction.

Harry chuckled, "Saved you a slice, pineapple ya favorite ," he said, his voice warm with affection. "Thought you might be hungry."

Y/n's eyes lit up with gratitude as she grabbed a slice, her fingers trembling slightly as she took a bite. The taste exploded on her tongue, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body as she savored every delicious bite.

"Thanks, Harry," she said between bites, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she realized how crazy she must look.

Soon she didn’t care as her taste buds were sent into a frenzy of delight. It was like nothing she had ever experienced before.

Fuck I could die happy right now

Y/n couldn’t help but let out a soft moan of pleasure as pineapple juice filled her mouth and the second the sound escaped her lips, her eyes widened in horror, realizing she had made that sound out loud. She glanced around the room, and spotted Lucas, Harry's friend, standing in the kitchen, his gaze fixed on her.

Y/n's heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing with panic as she struggled to come up with an excuse.

Harry's warm laughter filled the air. "Enjoying the pizza, are we?" he teased, his voice filled with affection as he shot her a playful wink.

Lucas's voice cut through the air like a knife. "You look fucking stoned, Y/n," he exclaimed, a smirk playing on his lips.

By now y/n’s entire face was bright red with embarrassment as she averted her gaze, her heart racing with panic. Feeling the weight of Harry's curious gaze boring into her.

She rubbed her now sweaty hands on her jeans, once again struggling to find the right words to defend herself. "I-I'm fine," she insisted, her voice trembling slightly.

Just take a seat Y/n.

Listening to her thoughts y/n made her way to take a seat, and felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as now all eyes were actually on her.

Matt's eyes widened as she sat down . Her body carrying the heavy skunk like scent everywhere she went. "Dear God, Y/n, you smell like weed," he blurted out, his voice filled with disbelief.

Y/n's heart sank as she looked up, meeting Harry's curious gaze once again. She felt herself sinking deeper into the couch as if her body was not her own and someone else was controlling it.

"Love, you do smell like weed," Harry stated softly, as he placed a hand on her thigh. To be completely honest Harry knew Y/n was high from the moment she walked in. He could tell just by the way her eyes looked back at him. Of course he’d never accuse her of it.

Say something everyone is staring at you

She was screaming at herself to open her mouth and speak but she simply couldn’t.

Sensing something was wrong with his usually calm girlfriend Harry made an announcement, "It's getting late, I'm a little tired”, his voice breaking the tension in the room.

Oh thank god.

Y/n felt a twinge of relief as Harry and his friends began cleaning up. Not bothering to help Y/n found herself lost in a trance, staring at the video game on the screen. The vibrant colors and lifelike characters captivated her, momentarily distracting her from the chaos swirling inside her mind.

So pretty

Y/n's thoughts of the video game were interrupted by the sound of Harry closing the door behind his departing friends.

Just tell him for fucks sake

With a rush of adrenaline, Y/n blurted out the truth she had been trying to conceal.

"I-I'm high," she confessed, her voice wavering as she looked up at Harry, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Harry's lips curved into a knowing smirk as he met her gaze. "I'm very aware, love," he said, his voice tinged with amusement. "Look at you, growing up."

Y/n's heart fluttered at his teasing tone, but her panic quickly resurfaced as she struggled to explain the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body.

"I-I don't know what's happening," she admitted, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "I feel like... like I'm not in control."

“One minute I’m happy and the next I’m sucked into a deep black hole”

Harry's expression softened with understanding as he moved closer, wrapping his arms around her in a comforting embrace. "It's okay, Y/n," he murmured, his voice soothing to her frazzled nerves. "You're just having a bad trip. I've been there before."

Y/n buried her face in Harry's chest, trying to steady her racing heart. The smell of his cologne filled her nose and she felt a sense of relief wash over her, knowing that Harry was there to support her through the storm.

Harry lounged back on the couch, placing Y/n’s head in his lap. With a playful gleam in his eyes, he started telling stories of his most embarrassing high moments. Y/n leaning in, eager to hear, soon they were both laughing uncontrollably.

While drawing circles on her back Harry shared one ridiculous story after another, including the one where he thought he saw a UFO, and Y/n couldn't help but snort. Each story made her laugh harder, tears of amusement rolling down her cheeks.

"I can't believe you did that!" Y/n gasped between giggles, wiping away tears as she looked at Harry with admiration. The panic that had gripped her earlier seemed like a distant memory and a sense of peace wash over her. In that moment, nothing else mattered except the shared laughter and connection between them.

Masterlist

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry x y/n #harry x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles fan fic #one direction #one direction imagine

134 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

beyburstfacts

gatti'n'roll lifeblood

saltylandland

whalyrae

Aly

anitaanotherdrink

cartooncritters

mollyponkevitch

The Ecliptic