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kennedysbaby · 7 days

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“not bad.”

wc: 2.0k

pairings: di! leon kennedy x fem! agent! reader

synopsis: in the midst of a casual training session, leon accidentally throws a miscalculated punch, resulting in him needing to make it up to you, his favorite rookie.

warnings: age gap (leon is thirty-eight, reader is twenty-three). kind of inappropriate work relationship. mentor/protege turned lovers-ish? mild sexual content. leon riding his motorcycle without a helmet because he thinks he's too hot to (real).

author's note: i'm tired of pretending death island leon isn't the hottest leon. twink death dilf birth fr. also not my best work, i kind of just threw this up and wrote it in the span of two hours. i’m not too proud of it honestly.

even after long and strenuous missions, leon didn't care if you were beyond exhausted; as long as you came back relatively unscathed, you were required to show up to work the next morning. which, whatever, that was fair. it would be a little nice to catch up on some well-deserved sleep, though. the worst part is, it wasn't only mission reports that you were expected to complete—it was training, too.

sure, you might've had a teensy bit of a crush on your mentor, but this never failed to piss you off, even if he looked so good.

in the dimly lit training room, the air was thick with the faint scent of sweat and determination as you and leon squared off. you stood before the older man, a fierce glint glazed over your eyes, while leon maintained a more relaxed stance, his more experienced gaze assessing your every move.

"let's see what you've still got in you after last week's shitshow." leon teased, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

you shot back, "bring it on, old man," a playful glimmer danced in your eyes as you readied yourself for the impending clash.

"old man?" leon feigned offense, scoffing in disbelief. "i haven't even hit forty yet. you're just cruel."

you clenched your fists with a shit-eating grin, lunging forward and throwing a flurry of messy punches that leon expertly dodged—which only wiped away your smirk in an instant. your movements were fluid, visually pleasing from afar. circling one another, you searched for an opening, reaching forward with a swift jab, that he deftly sidestepped, countering with a quick jab of his own that grazed your cheek.

you grimaced from the pain, to which he responded with, "nice try sweetheart, but you'll have to be quicker than that," leon taunted, his voice laced with clear amusement. "i taught you better than this, babe."

sweetheart. babe. blush spread across your cheeks, and not from the back-and-forth punches and kicks. leon was fifteen years your senior, but unfortunately, he was also unbelievably hot—you felt so guilty for even having feelings for him in the first place.

leon was ruggishly handsome, with long-ish dark brown hair that framed his face, and broad shoulders that made him look like he gave good hugs. plus, he rode motorcycles—that he occasionally crashed—and owned this alluring charm to him that you just couldn't help but fall for. your "little" crush had gotten so inconsolable, you started laughing at his awful dad jokes.

nonetheless, you two had established a sweet relationship built on witty banter and pretentiously deep conversations. one reassuring shoulder pat and charming smile from him and all your pre-existing daddy issues withered away into nothing.

"oh please, i can hear your joints cracking from here," you grinned, determination coursing through your veins as you launched back into a flurry of punches and kicks, each one dismally met with leon's skillful evasion or expertly timed blocks.

banter flowed effortlessly between you two, subtly flirtatious comments sprinkled amongst them—a mixture of teasing jabs and genuine encouragement that only served to heighten the unspoken tension.

your fellow agents on leon's team were well-aware of the evident favoritism shown towards you. unbeknownst to them, you heard their little snide comments they'd whisper whenever you breathed near your mentor. he probably fucks her, they'd say, she probably blows him. it was disgusting, and quite frankly, sexist, but you did your best to ignore them.

though, sometimes you wished they were true.

as the minutes stretched on, the intensity of your little sparring session only seemed to grow, the air thick was anticipation as you pushed each other to the limit. but, in the heat of the moment, a lapse in leon's concentration led to very dirty move.

with lightning-fast movement, he threw a hard punch that was meant to be deflected harmlessly, but instead, landed with a sickening thud against your side. you gasped, the impact knocking the wind from your lungs as you stumbled backward, pain etched across your pretty features.

in an instant, leon's playful demeanor vanished, replaced by genuine concern as he rushed over to you, his rough hands hovering uncertainly over your trembling form.

"shit, sweetheart, i'm sorry," his smooth voice was thick with regret as his fingers tentatively slid your white tank top up. his cold blue eyes narrowed as the pad of his thumb gently brushed over the wound, frowning at the newly forming bruise tainting your skin like mold.

you winced at the contact, but you definitely weren't complaining. a reassuring smile graced your lips as your strained eyes met his worried gaze. "it's okay," you murmured, "it was an accident."

leon's lips parted slightly, as if restraining himself, before chuckling softly, "let me make it up to you," his eyes flitted upwards, landing upon your own—it sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. he guided you towards the nearby bench, settling himself right next to you, his free hand strategically placed on your thigh.

i've got to use this to my advantage, you thought to yourself, before replying, "okay…how about dinner tonight?" your voice was still a little stiff, clearly still reeling back from the uncalled for punch. "i think i deserve it after putting up with your weird no-breaks-after-missions rule."

leon wasn't an idiot. of all the things you could've asked for…dinner? he knew you weren't a goody two shoes just for the sake of it. your longing glances weren't left unnoticed, the fiddling around with the hem of your skirt, your inability to hold eye contact for more than two seconds. it was glaringly obvious. he found it endearing, and he'd be lying to himself if he said he didn't have a soft spot for you.

you really were a pretty little thing. and leon was only human.

"dinner?" he repeated, a smirk creeping onto his lips. "that's the best you could come up with?"

you nodded, smiling as if you hadn't just had your shit rocked. leon swallowed hard, knowing damn well he couldn't turn you down. not that he really had a choice at this point.

…

after what was seemingly an innocent dinner together, they found themselves engrossed in a long anticipated kiss, standing right by his motorcycle that he surprisingly hadn't crashed. it felt so right, so perfect, like fate had written this for them, despite all odds...

"i had fun tonight," you said, looking up into his icy blue eyes, standing a few inches away from each other. your dress fell mid-thigh, tight around all the right places.

leon felt like a creep just staring at how pretty you were. he was having an awfully hard time reminding himself that you were his protege, his subordinate. this was insanely inappropriate. but if his intuition was correct, then you definitely wouldn't mind if he made a move.

the air was laced with anticipation and unspoken desire as he looked back down at your pretty face, eyes lingering on your lipstick coated lips. leon brought his calloused hands up, and cupped your soft cheeks, his touch gentle yet electrifying.

"i'm glad you did, pretty girl," an amused look crossed over his features as he took notice of your cheeks that were burning up from his touch.

with a shared understanding, leon closed the distance between the two of you, his lips crashing against yours and meeting in a fervent kiss, igniting something strong within you. throughout the night, your inhibitions had slowly but surely disappeared, evolving into this.

his lips were warm against yours, his kiss both tender and possessive as he deepened the embrace, his hands roaming freely over your body, grasping at whatever he could. luckily, the parking lot was for the most part vacant, so leon took advantage of that. he didn't know what he was drunk on, but the fact that this was inappropriate had completely slipped his mind—right now, he wasn't your mentor, and he wasn't fifteen years older than you. what could go wrong? besides, it wasn't like the dso would let go of one of its founders.

you sighed into the kiss, surrendering yourself completely to the intoxicating rush that coursed hotly through your blood. leon pulled you closer, his fingers now tangled in your hair as he slipped his tongue between your lips, eliciting a content groan from you. you pressed your body against his, backing up against the cool metal of his motorcycle. his lips meshed into yours with a hunger that bordered on desperation.

leon really had been holding back this entire time.

you responded in kind, fingers desperately grasping onto his back, holding on for support. the cool night winds had both of your hair blowing softly, simultaneously sending a chill down your spine. but the heat of the moment was enough to keep you warm.

time seemed to stand still as you lost yourselves in each other, the outside world fading away until there was only you two, bound together by an unbreakable thread of desire and longing. as the kiss only escalated, your aching need for him was only reaching dizzying heights, knowing damn well that you'd never forget this moment. a testament to your intense desire for the man you knew you couldn't have.

when you finally pulled apart, both of your breaths were ragged and hearts were racing. you shared a knowing smile with him, the feeling sending a pleasant rush through you.

"i think it's safe to say i've made it up to you," leon whispered, his voice husky with lust as he pressed his forehead against yours. "don't you think?"

you chuckled softly, eyes sparkling with affection as you traced the line of his jaw with your fingertips. "i couldn't agree more," you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper.

his hand smoothed up your dress, feeling the area he'd accidentally punched earlier, a frown creasing onto his lips, "you holding up okay, by the way?" he asked concernedly, eyes flickering with worry once again.

"mhm, don't worry about it." you replied, grimacing a bit as he applied a bit of pressure on.

"good, good. you're a tough girl, i knew you'd take it like a champ." leon lightened the mood a bit, laughing lightly to ease his nerves.

"y'know, there's something else i'd take like a champ—" you had to cut yourself off, surprised that you'd let something like that roll off your tongue like it was nothing in front of someone who was technically your boss.

to your surprise, leon only shut his eyes, shaking his head in utter disbelief as he laughed a little harder. but he really wanted to test that theory. "you're really something, sweetheart." his chuckle alone sent shivers down your spine.

and with that, you rode off into the night, heading straight for his apartment. you wrapped your arms around his waist tightly, holding on for dear life as he sped off on the vacant highway. neither of you cared about the consequences of your actions, or how you'd be proving your teammates right. that would be a problem for tomorrow.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy oneshot #resident evil death island #di leon #resident evil #leon kennedy x you #live laugh dilf leon #not kidding when i say i need bro NOW #death island leon #older leon kennedy

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thebookbutterfly · 2 months

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Get ready because it’s time for girl-dad!Simon Riley part 2.

We all know that Simon’s daughter would have him wrapped around her little finger. So, of course he’s going to spoil her with his military salary. She is never unreasonable about it but when she really wants something all she has to do is bat her tiny little eyelashes at him and it’s game over.

She has a wealth of Barbies, sparkly dresses, pink t-shirts with skulls on them and light up sketchers. Her favourite doll (much to your amusement) was a soldier action figure she had begged Simon to buy. “It’s just like you daddy!” She had squealed, little pigtails bouncing as she dragged him to see what she had found. 5 minutes later they had left the store GI Joe in hand, and Simon, with watery eyes (not that he would admit it).

When he is away on deployment it is the one thing she takes everywhere. She had very quickly been unable to fall asleep without it.

When Simon finally gets back he wants to spend as much time with his little girl as possible. You can’t count how many times you had opened the front door to find Simon’s huge frame hunched up on a tiny chair in your daughter’s room. His eyes were always warm and his scarred mouth set in a soft smile as he pretended to take sips of tea from the teensy pink teacup she had handed him. The sight of him there, messy blond hair filled with glittery butterfly clips, while being bossed around by a girl 1/10th his size never failed to be amusing.

And oh boy would his daughter boss him around. When they play dolls Simon is under a strict set of rules. One of which being that if he was going to play Barbies with her then he HAS to use his girl voice. Between his naturally deep timbre and his accent it is a bit of a strangled impression. But he gives it his all every time.

The idea of this big, scarred, war-hardened man being soft and gentle with his daughter has me down HORRENDOUS. I need to lie down—

#ghost is and will forever be girl dad coded you can’t change my mind #once again i am plagued by thoughts of ghost being a softie #ghost is babygirl #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #cod modern warfare #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #konig cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #ghost mw2

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itsgrimeytime · 11 months

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When you're his rock... || Rick Grimes (TWD)

"You okay?" You cupped Carl's face, he'd been crying, but luckily, you didn't see anything physical. You brushed back his hair from his face, wiping away the tears, and pulling him close to your chest without much thought.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay," he spoke, hugging you back, just as tightly.

That's when you saw him, he was covered in blood -the staining trailing down his beard to his neck. His eyes looked distant, as he leaned up against the car -his hands shaking slightly in the night. Rick wasn't currently here, no.

You made a decision then, brushing your hands up and down Carl's arms, whispering, "You sure?"

And the kid looked at you, with teensy of a smile, looking towards his Dad in a way that read... he just knew.

"Yeah."

You smiled at him, carefully lifting the hat off his head, brushing back his hair and kissing the top of his head, and whispering your pride against the top of his head. Placing the hat back onto his head, you straightened it and stood up.

The group was scattered, paired off with each other as wounds were patched up and others were gratefully held. Everyone had been crying at one point. Except for one.

Your eyes landed on him, he looked just the same -eyes distant and hands stained. Your eyes flickered to Daryl, who had been roaming nearby and he simply nodded at you and turned to some others.

Slowly, you made his way to his side, leaning against the cool metal -he still didn't move.

"Rick?" You whispered, turning toward him and hesitating to touch him in this state, "Can you hear me?"

He seemed to blink then, eyes shifting to match yours, the fog dispersing. He wasn't all there still but at least he'd moved, you couldn't ask for much more.

"Hey," you whispered, gently extended your fingers to his face -pressing your fingertips onto his cheek.

You didn't need to ask if he was okay, you could tell. The last few hours had been scarring, yes, but Rick had done what he had to. You'd help him as much as he could to process this, to tell him that.

Rick sighed, leaning into your hand with the hushed ease and trust that made your heart beat a little faster. He was slowly breathing in and out, the whispers of his nose filling the space between you. He needed a moment and you'd give it to him.

You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his forehead, with a breath of something you wished he could understand. Pulling back, you smoothed your fingers across the worrylines on his forehead -it was staining your fingers but you couldn't find it in yourself to care.

"Let's get you cleaned up, hmm?"

"Okay," he echoed -tired, and barely there. You hummed, rubbing the creasing under his eyes. Almost like you could wish him some sleep.

You doused a rag with the last bit of your water, someone had one stored away in a bag. It was lucky you'd even found it with the current mind of the group so scattered and scared, but you had.

Gently, you began wiping at his skin -careful not to irritate. He needed gentle, calm, grounding. So, you'd give it to him.

Breaths were shared between the two of you, as his eyes fluttered shut -you could feel his trust in the air, and at that moment it was almost too much. Emotions were so high, and he was so broken but he trusted you.

You swallowed back some tears and dusted the rag over his eyelids with a featherlight touch. Smooth over the bridge of his nose, the dips in his cheeks, the pads of his hands, and through his beard, you wiped his face clean.

Treating his face like something breakable, something precious.

"I love you," he hummed, his drawl low and barely there -your heart twisted even then.

"I love you too," you smiled, pushing back some of his curls and threading one hand into his curls, "-so much."

He smiled, eyes crinkling open -he still wasn't quite there, but he was more of a fuzzy kind of tired now; you counted it as a win.

"So much," he whispered like a confirmation, blue eyes looking up at you with an air of exhaustion but a spark of affection that sent a familiar buzz under your skin.

Without much else of thought, you leaned to wrap your arms around his neck -soft and warm, you held your face against his shoulder. Breathing him in against the denim of his jacket, you wished you could stay there for longer.

Rick's arms met you around your back, hands gripping the fabric just a little stronger than you expected. You wouldn't say a word, and you wouldn't move for as long as he need you there.

"Thank you," he echoed into your hair, you could feel it muttered there and you curled into him every so much.

And you didn't need to say anything else, he knew. You knew he did.

#rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #stuff n' thangs #twd blurb #rick grimes blurb #its griming time #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x you #twd oneshot

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sulieykte · 11 months

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𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 // 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 ✧˚ · . 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒗𝒊

‣ Pairing: Adult!Neteyam (20) x Fem!Omatikaya Reader (19) ‣ Warnings: Mentions of weapons, death, biting, blood and a teensy mention of vomiting. ‣ Word Count: 3.4k ‣ A/N: The wait is finally over! I want to thank everyone for being so patient, I know this took a while to write but I had to make sure I was in the right space before starting. I'm not going to pretend to understand the timeline of this movie, especially as we don't have Ronal's belly to go by at this point so let's just pretend that the timeline makes sense. This part includes some canon scenes (and another shocking attempt at writing action) with a little bit of creative liberties taken, I didn't want to go into too much detail of something we've all probably read 100 times. I know I've gotten tired of reading the same dialogue over and over again. I also wrote half of this on some strong cold medicine so as always I'll be back in the morning to do an extra proofread. Enjoy and let me know what you think besties. English is in bold italics all other dialogue is in Na'vi. ‣ Na'vi word bank: tìyawn - love, skxawng - moron, sa'nu - mum, eywa'eveng - pandora, uniltìrantokx - dreamwalker, ftang - stop, kä - go

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"What are they doing?"

You squeeze your eyes closed, pressing your face further into the surface below you as the light penetrates your eyelids, threatening to wake you from your slumber too soon. It does little to block out the high voice that rings through your tent but the warmth beneath you easily swallows your body, the soft rise and fall inviting you to slip back to sleep.

"Maybe they were fighting and knocked each other out?” The second agitating, grating voice is determined to not allow your rest. You grumble into the warmth, in hope that the owner of the voice would get the hint and leave before you had no choice to resort to violence.

”Lo'ak, don't be ridiculous." The third voice causes the warmth to unwrap itself from you, it shifts underneath you and all you can do is tighten your hold around it, keeping the heat from further escaping you.

"Oh shut up Kiri, like you can come up with a better explanation for this."

Something vibrates beneath your face, your peace finally ripped away from you and any attempt to return to your slumber thwarted once two of the intruding voices begin their squabble and the warmth groans and stretches out beneath you. Eyelashes flutter against the blue chest as you give in and blink away the sleep in your eyes.

“Lo’ak, dad said to leave them be.” Tuk calls out to her brother, solidifying her position as your favourite Sully with their father placing a close second.

“If he wanted us to leave them alone, he shouldn’t have told us where Neteyam was.”

Whatever fatigue that lingers in your body leaves, your eyes snapping open as your reality hits you. Of where you are, of who is underneath you and how you got there. You roll off Neteyam’s chest, as if putting distance between you now would undo the damage of being caught. An explanation is at the tip of your tongue when you sit up, until your skull collides with something hard and you fall backwards, the head splitting pain stinging at the corner of your eyes.

“Shit.” A solid form catches you, a hand reaching from behind you to press at your forehead as if the firm hold had any hope of dulling the pain. Your eyes open, tears being stemmed by your rapid blinking as you find Lo’ak in a similar state of agony, clutching at his head and letting out howls that would rival a wounded Nantang.

You had never understood what Jake meant when he claimed Lo’ak had a thick skull until now.

“Lo’ak you skxawng! What were you doing standing over me?” A well-aimed kicked to the shin earns another howl from the big baby and a sharp tap to your already tender forehead alerts you to the continued presence of your least favourite Sully. His hand returning to soothe the area once he’d admonished you for your attack on his brother.

He was making it worse, so much worse. You freeze to the spot, a warm chest pressed against your back, an arm wrapped around your waist. The same arm that had spent the night holding you close. A decision made with little thought to the consequences it would have, the desire for comfort overpowering your good sense when you’d allowed him to pull you onto the sleeping mat and intertwine your bodies.

The consequences you were now facing as the three other Sully’s stared at you and their brother. Tuk with bewilderment. Kiri who was making a poor attempt at hiding her laughter behind her palm. And Lo’ak. Oh, Lo’ak who had only stopped his performance of agony to look at you and his older brother with nothing other than a look of horror on his face.

“Me?! What was I doing? I was trying to make sure you were okay. What were you doing?” He gestures frantically and the two of you, mouth opening and closing a few times before he can put together another sentence to express his confusion. “WHY ARE YOU TOUCHING HER?”

Neteyam’s hands release their hold on you, lifting in a gesture of surrender as you finally gather some sense to move your body away from him. You had found it far too easy to lean into his touch when it had become one that soothed instead of caused pain. A betrayal of your body to your mind as you felt yourself missing the feeling of his digits pressed against your skin. You were going mad, it was certain. You needed one of those mind doctors that Norm spoke of and Lo’ak’s face only confirmed that.

“Don’t make a big deal out of this baby brother.” Neteyam stands, reaching out an arm to help his brother to his feet, the gesture accepted with a narrowing of eyes. “Yesterday was tough and y/n was hurt trying to help me, I came to check on her. We just fell asleep while we were talking.”

“Oh yes, and grandmother always advises cuddling to aid the healing process.” Kiri, the only one who seems to both understand and enjoy this conversation, sits next to you in the space recently vacated by her brother.

“Not helping.” You whine, bumping your shoulder against hers.

“Not trying to.” She meets your shoulder with a nudge of her own, and you fix her with a glare that has little annoyance behind it. Kiri at least would lose interest soon enough and her teasing would cease. Lo’ak on the other hand, you could already see the questions forming in his mind, ones you would be forced to answer if you wished for him to drop it. You couldn’t blame him, not really. Not when the last true interaction between you and his brother that he had witnessed was an attempt to cause harm. An attempt that had since been achieved in other ways that you certainly didn’t want your best friend finding out about.

“Are you all better now y/n?” Tuk asks and you open your arms to accept her into your lap, her little arms finding their way around your middle as snuggled into your body. “Mom says I give the best hugs!”

You can’t help but squeeze her until she squeaks in complaint, a muffled “Too tight!” Coming from where you have her smothered in your grasp.

“I’m so much better now Tuk-Tuk, your sa’nu is right. You give the best hugs ever.” You release her from your arms, fixing her braids that you had messed up.

“So much better than Neteyam’s, right?” You ignore Kiri’s snort, looking up to find the aforementioned staring right at you. His tail flicking with amusement, he raises his brows to encourage you to answer the question. Your ears fold back and you hope your face doesn’t give away the heat that rushes to it under his gaze.

“Yes Tuk, so much better than Neteyam’s.” It’s a blessing from Eywa herself that you manage to hold his gaze before he breaks the impromptu staring competition himself, his low chuckle echoing through the tent as he turns and rests his hand on his brother’s head.

“I better go and check in with dad. Have fun cleaning out the ikran.” He gives Lo’ak’s head a gentle push as he turns to leave, earning him a scowl as he departs your Marui.

“Well good luck with that, auntie already told him where you were!” You might have fainted if it weren’t for your body resting against Kiri’s. Your mother having seen you was a given, though you hadn’t much thought to it until now, but she’d told Jake? Tuk’s earlier statement that he had told them to leave you alone suddenly made sense. You would never be able to look him in the eye again knowing the assumptions he must have about what you were doing. Assumptions that bordered on being correct. You had no time to spiral any further when the absence of his brother to blame had Lo’ak turning on you.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Tuk, keep up!”

“Bro, why’d you bring her anyway.”

“She’s such a crybaby! She’s all, I’m telling, you’re not supposed to go to the battlefield. I’ll tell mom if you don’t let me come.” You and Kiri come to the youngest’s defence at the same time. Kiri sticking to words but you reach forward to flick Lo’ak on the forehead, which he still claimed to be sore, earning a yelp from him and a giggle from Tuk from behind you.

As you got older, the ban on visiting the battlefield had been seen as more of a suggestion to you, Spider and Lo’ak. You were adults, one of the people in yours and Lo’ak’s case. Not that you’d ever brave sharing your adventures with Jake because while as a father he had to respect that you were grown, as your Olo’eyktan his word was still law.

Bringing Tuk was maybe a step too far, one that you might’ve argued against any other day, but you needed an escape. An escape from the confines of High Camp and any chance that Neteyam might return and attempt a further conversation. This new Neteyam that showed you smattering of the gentleness he treated his family with and served to only muddle your brain even more. You’d sooner go back to the years of snarky remarks or even the weeks in which he ignored you after taking what he wanted. That Neteyam made sense to you.

“Are there any dead bodies up there?”

Eywa’eveng had staked claim on what once invaded her land. The aircraft had now become part of the forest, the vines entwined with its metal husk and moss growing on its propellers. You follow Lo’ak’s lead in scaling the metal husk, confirming the lack of dead bodies before you allow Tuk to follow.

You were cutting it fine to get back to High Camp before eclipse, as you always did. Kiri had wandered off leaving Spider to follow in search of her before you could return.

“What is it?” Kiri questions as Lo’ak strays from the path, crouching to examine whatever he has noticed in the mud. Urging Tuk to stay where she is, you jump down beside him and Spider, brows furrowing when you find what he spotted. Boot prints, large boot prints. Lo’ak vocalises your realisation before you can.

“These are way too big to be human.”

“Avatars?” Spider questions, and you meet Lo’ak’s eyes. You don’t have to speak to know that he has already realised what you have. Whoever had been here, they were not yours.

You pull your knife from its sheath, staying a few paces behind Spider and Lo’ak as they follow the tracks. You gesture for Kiri and Tuk to stay close, pressing a finger to your lips to indicate that they should be quiet. The tracks were fresh, whoever they belonged to were still close by.

You cursed yourself for declining to bring your bow as you found the source of the prints, four that you could see as they searched the old shack that you had been told under no uncertain terms you were not to visit. You held Tuk close to your side, declining to follow as Spider and Lo’ak moved to get a closer look. Risking too much movement was not a good idea, not when you had Tuk with you and only two of you held weapons that didn’t need to be used at close range. You were good with your knife, but it would be useless when faced with a gun. The boy’s return and Lo’ak makes the call to his father, dooming all of you to endless lectures and your worst punishments yet.

“Son, you listen to me very carefully. You pull back right now. Do not make a sound.” You hear Jake’s orders through Kiri’s earpiece, pressing Tuk tighter into your side. “Move, you copy?”

“Yes sir, moving out.”

“See, I told you.”

You push the siblings forward, taking the rear as you follow Jake’s orders. Your chest tightens around the fear that rampages your pounding heart, you could’ve prevented this. If you had not been so concerned with escaping the consequences of your choices you might have been able to convince Lo’ak that this was not a good idea, that you should not have brought Tuk with you. But you had been selfish, thought only of yourself and now you were all in danger. The little girl you held only hours after her birth was in danger.

“It’s almost eclipse, come on.”

The trees part and little Tuk is swept up faster than any of you can respond, Spider and Lo’ak each pointlessly nocking an arrow as more figures emerge through the trees with threats to shoot. You hiss, stance ready to pounce until you see Tuk desperately pulling at the hands that held her queue tight in her hands, crying out for Kiri.

You drop your knife, hands raised in surrender as you allow one of the uniltìrantokx to take a hold of your arms. Despite your obedience your knees are kicked from under you, and for the second time today your skull explodes in agony when the soldier wraps your queue around his hands and pulls. Your mouth fills with copper as you catch your tongue between your teeth, doing all you can not to hiss as you watch Kiri, Lo’ak and Spider be similarly manhandled.

"What have we here?" The man has a marking of a bird on his arm, one you think you have seen before on a screen in the lab before Norm would tell you to go play outside. Bird man steps into the circle, observing you each in turn, his eyes lingering on Spider longer than the rest of you.

"Colonel, check it out. Four fingers. We got a half breed." Kiri’s hand is raised for bird man, or ‘colonel’ to see. His jaw tightens as he looks at her before he turns on Lo’ak.

"Show me your fingers." You let out a shaky breath as Lo’ak flips him off, something you’d learned as children from Spider. It was disrespectful Jake had told you when he caught you it to Neteyam. But the colonel doesn’t seem offended, doesn’t lash out. Instead he laughs. "You're his, aren't you?" Lo’ak hisses. “You’re his, alright.” He pulls Lo’ak up by his queue and tears swell at the corner of your eyes at the sound of his pained grunts as he tried to look strong, at Tuk’s cries for her brother. "Where is he?"

"Sorry, I don't speak English… to assholes."

"Where is your father?" His Na’vi broken, but it’s clear enough who he is looking for. Lo’ak says nothing, a warrior in his own right, he would give away nothing to protect his father. None of you would, even when the colonel pulls out his knife.

"Really? You wanna play it this way?" Kiri’s cries not to hurt her brother grab his attention and Lo’ak is discarded as he rounds on the elder Sully.

"Kiri, no! Stop!" Lo’ak barely gets an inch closer to his sister before he is pulled back by his queue.

“Ftang!” You cry out, tears finally fulfilling their threat to spill as the colonel advances on your sister. The hand behind you tightens around your queue, sending white spots through your vision.

"Hey, don't touch her!" It’s Spider who stops the colonel in his tracks, as he tugs against his captor.

"What's your name kid?" The colonel asks.

"Spider… Socorro." Spider’s captor is shooed away and the colonel bends a knee in front of him, his face softens, absent of any of the vitriol in which he’d eyed any of you na’vi with.

"Miles?" You hadn’t heard anyone call Spider that in years, often you forgot that his preferred nickname wasn’t his given name. Your brows furrow, searching Spider’s face for any sign that he knew how this uniltìrantokx knew his name. You found nothing in his expression but disgust.

"Nobody calls me that."

"I'll be damned. I figured they sent you back to earth."

"You can't put babies in cryo dipshit." The colonel signals for Spider to be restrained again and presses a hand to the comm around his throat.

"Iron sky, blue on actual. We're standing by for extraction. Over. Be advised, we're bringing in high value prisoners."

"Heads up, three minutes."

Your tail sways nervously behind you as the colonel announces the latest time frame. With each announcement, as they had the five of you lined up held securely ready for extraction, you became less sure that Jake would make it to you in time. Your wrists were tied, the soldier holding onto you had one hand on your queue, another on his gun and you knew that you had failed to protect your family. Would they take you to their city? Separate you and hide you behind their metal walls where Jake and Neytiri could not find you?

Your ears twitch. The familiar hoot echoing throughout the trees, a look shared with Tuk confirming that she had heard it too. Their mother was here. You adjust your stance, getting ready for further signal from the Tsakarem. Kiri utters a soft prayer from where she is held behind you and you hear her groan in pain before all hell breaks loose.

“Contact rear!”

You’re yanked back by your queue as the dreamwalker holding you turns to fire his weapon, the pain splitting through your skull as you try to keep your balance without your hands to help you. The soldier that had hold of Kiri and Spider is dead on the ground at your feet, an arrow protruding from his head.

“Lo’ak!” Neytiri calls to her son from her hiding spot and you lose him and Tuk in a puff of yellow smoke. You wasted no time in ensuring your own escape by sinking your teeth into the arm that held you, releasing your hold once your mouth filled with blood and his grip went slack.

“Kä!” You cry out to Spider and Kiri as you run towards them, pushing them away from the gunfire and into the forest. Your escape is hindered when Kiri is yanked back by her braid, only for a moment before, her mother’s arrow loosing from the trees impales the demon and you move ahead again.

Adrenaline pounds through your veins and you run through the forest, the copper taste on your tongue threatening to bring your stomach contents up. But you don’t have time for that, you have to run, you have to get away to make sure you don’t leave your mother alone. To make sure that Kiri and Spider get home safely and find Tuk and Lo’ak and know that they’re okay.

The heat hits your back before you realise there’s been an explosion, the shock is enough to knock you off your feet and you don’t even realise that you were not the only one affected until you hear Kiri calling out for Spider.

Neytiri finds you, pulling a resistant Kiri away from the edge Spider had fallen from. You hear her call your name, urging you to follow as she drags her daughter away, but you don’t really hear her. Not as you scramble to the edge and see your friends weakened form being lifted from the ground by the colonel.

You’re pulled from the ground before you can even make your move to climb down, strong arms wrapping around your waist as they tug you away from the edge. You cry out, kicking and scratching, doing anything you can to release yourself from your captor until his voice rumbles in your ears.

“Stop Tìyawn!”

“Let me go!” You demand of him, he can’t do this to you. He isn’t this cruel. He can’t make you watch as they take your Spider away. “Please.” You beg as the dam breaks, your tears flowing freely, salt mixing in with copper as they reach the corners of your mouth. His hold only gets tighter, arms wrapping around your shoulder to still your movements.

“There’s nothing you can do for him, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He whispers in your ear and lowers you both to the ground, releasing his hold on your shoulders as he reaches for his knife and unbinds your wrists. You know he speaks the truth as you watch the aircraft ascend, taking away any hope of getting to Spider.

taglist: @lili-of-the-dream @arminsgfloll @aliceantalus @afro-hispwriter @syulangg @strongestangel @jjkclub @grxcisxhy-wp @cl0esblogg @thehalalboy @avatarmasterlistblog @violet-19999 @itzgabz22 @zeysartzone @justasimps-blog, @samistars @randxmthxughts@zetianzz,@emery-333,@pixieverse,@theycallmesia,@iwantjaketosullyme,@amalaaaa11,@yetanotherattemptatanaccount,@mashiromochi,@aspen-sprout,@spicymayyo,@athenalikethegoddess,@daniinhell,@trippyoverrt,@bellaiscool

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lewiscarrolatemybrain · 1 year

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De-age temporary amnesia fic where LWJ gets babie-fied, doesn’t remember being an adult at all and is a Little spooked by Xiongzhang being so grown up now but he takes the explanation of “you’re under a spell and supposed to be much older, don’t worry, we’re going to fix it” in stride.

He doesn’t know what to think at all of the man in black and the shixiong who both keep behaving so strangely until he overhears people talking (even though gossiping is forbidden!) about how strange it must be for Wei Wuxian and Lan Sizhui, since Lan Wangji is, after all, their husband and father, respectively.

And Babyji goes “Oh.”

Nobody knows he knows until Sizhui (somewhat frantic on account of His Dad Is A Baby Now, and therefore walking just a teensy bit too fast to get back to the group after his classes for that day) almost bumps into an elder in his haste.

This is unusual, because Sizhui is The Most Lan. However, there are some elders who have never forgotten how the child came to the Cloud Recesses in the first place, and take any tiniest infraction from him as proof that he should have been left wherever Hanguang-Jin found him. So Sizhui is standing there, face carefully blank, getting a new asshole ripped into him by this elder, trying to swallow his rising panic because now he’s even Later to get back and what if something happened--

Only for Babyji to come charging around the corner, face set in a furious little scowl, and plant himself between Sizhui and the elder. Tiny little a-Zhan staring up and up at this scary old man and absolutely reaming him to shreds for scolding Sizhui so harshly. He’s a-Yuan’s diedie! If a-Yuan did something wrong, a-Zhan will be the one to deal with it! Don’t you talk to him like that!

#MDZS #the untamed #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #lan wangji #lan sizhui #writing this actually gave me a bunch of much angstier thoughts #like for example lan zhan actually being completely terrified of the elders #but standing up to them anyway #not for his own sake #but for Sizhui and Wei Wuxian #the elders can tell a-zhan that he's not allowed to see mother that month #but they can't tell sizhui he's not allowed to see a-zhan #they can't put Wei Ying in a house and make him stay there #a-zhan won't let them!

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skz317cb97 · 1 year

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Color Theory

Jeongin x Female reader

Word count: 7.2k

Synopsis: Your world is varying shades of grey until you meet your soulmate, Jeongin, who brightens up your life in more ways than one.

A/N: 18+ ONLY! This, I swear to God, went from I have no idea for this story to 7.2k words and I have NO idea how. I hope you enjoy though! If you do please reblog, like, comment, shoot me an ask. I love hearing from you all it makes my day! As always warnings and smut below the cut!

Warnings: 18+ONLY MDNI! Cursing/strong language, character death, unprotected piv sex (please use condoms), cum shot, cum eating (a teensy bit). I think that's everything but if I missed something let me know and I'll add it asap!

Your mom was teaching you your primary colors. You had learned your shapes and you were working on numbers and letters and now she was working on your colors, an important part of your mother’s world being an artist. Your mom didn’t get why you were having such a hard time getting them right when you had picked everything else up so easily. It was your dad that actually mentioned the possibility of you being color blind as he was passing through the living room where you and your mom were playing during a break from his writing.

She realized your dad might be right so she set up an optometrist appointment for you and had your eyes examined. When the doctor looked, he determined that you had monochromacy or in other words you were completely color blind. It was quite rare really, most people that were color blind had trouble seeing certain colors, but you saw none which was so rare it happened to one in thirty-thousand people worldwide. Being a girl made it even less likely as well since color blindness occurred more in men than women but you were the one in thirty thousand apparently. Your mom’s heart broke a little knowing you’d never get to know and love colors the way she did but she made sure that art was still a part of your life.

You were thankful for that because art ended up being your outlet, your escape, your fantasy world to get lost inside. Any form you could create in you would, drawing, pottery, pastels, but you especially loved painting. You used an array of colors but only ever saw varying shades of gray so you used a lot of texture in your art as well. You became quite well known among the avid art collectors in your city for your unique style and the lack of your ability to see colors. Your paintings were variations of colors chosen by someone with no idea what color was, with the textures it was art that came off the canvas. Your name finally got passed around enough that one of the more selective galleries asked you to do an exhibition. You were working on some canvases for that when your mom walked into your studio. She set down a tupperware bowl and made her way over to you. She wiped at paint on your face shaking her head.

“You wear as much as the canvas does sometimes.” You nodded knowingly.

“I know sometimes I get lost in it and the next thing I know I have spackle caked in my hair.” If anyone understood it was your mom. She looked at what you were working on.

“You’re using a lot of pinks and reds in this one.” You looked at it.

“Have I? I stopped looking at the names on the tubes.” Your mother nodded, examining the amazing work you’d done only knowing black and white and the grays in between.

“I think this one will be my favorite when it’s finished.” You smiled. She was so proud of you. Then she pointed at the food she brought, knowing if she didn’t, you wouldn’t stop and eat. She distracted you just long enough to get you to break away and feed yourself. About halfway through your food your mom got up, squeezed you and kissed the top of your head.

“I’m going to get home sweetie. I have to make sure your dad eats too.” She shook her head at the likenesses you shared with your father.

“Don’t stay up all night.” You nodded knowing damn well you probably would. You had paintings to get done.

“Okay mom I won’t.” Your mother looked at you knowing it was complete bullshit but smiled and headed out.

“I love you sweetie.” You waved as you headed back towards your canvas.

“I love you too mom.” You put your headphones on and got lost in your canvas again. When your dad walked up behind you he scared the absolute shit out of you. You looked at the time and were surprised at how late it was, you pulled your headphones off.

“Dad wha-” The look on his face told you something was horribly wrong.

“It’s mom...” He said and you started to shake your head no as tears came to your eyes.

“No.” He walked towards you trying to grab your hand and you backed away.

“It started to rain, and the car slid...” You kept shaking your head back and forth.

“She’s okay she’s just hurt. Right?” Tears streaked your dad’s face.

“Right?!” Your dad shook his head no.

“She... she didn’t make it sweetie.” You collapsed to your knees and your dad grabbed your shoulders making sure you didn’t hurt yourself falling. You looked up at the half eaten food on the table that she had brought you. If you weren’t so worried about the stupid exhibit, if you had just taken enough care to eat, if she didn’t think she had to bring you dinner, she’d still be alive. When you left your studio that day, you locked it and refused to step foot in it again.

Your dad made all the arrangements and somehow you made it through your mother’s wake and funeral. You moved in with your dad after your mom died and took care of him. Made sure he ate, lifted his head from his computer from time to time so his eyes didn’t burn out of his head. You had wanted to get rid of your studio. Just sell it and let whoever bought it toss the paintings, but your dad wouldn’t let you. He told you to hold onto it, just because you didn’t feel like you could now, didn’t mean you never would. He hoped one day you’d go back to your painting. Two years went by and as fast as your name had been passed around it disappeared from people's lips just as quickly. You were glad.

You were starting dinner and writing down a grocery list when the house phone rang. Your dad was elbow deep in his novel, he wouldn’t stop for a house fire, so you answered it.

“Hello?” You heard a man clear his throat on the other end of the line.

“Oh hi! Uh, My name is Yang Jeongin...”

“We don’t want to buy any but thanks.” You hung up and started to head back over to the food on the stove. You just stirred the sauce when the phone rang again. You sighed and walked over to answer it again. More irritated this time, you were going to burn your dinner.

“Hello?!” He cleared his throat again.

“Hi sorry, I’m not selling anything I’m trying to find an artist by the name of y/n?” You froze, speechless.

“Hello?” Click. You hung up again and walked over to the dinner. The phone rang again and you let it but it kept going and going. You stormed over.

“What do you want!” He was surprised at your outburst.

“I... I... uh are you Ms. Y/n?" His voice had gotten small and you started to feel bad for blowing up on him for no real reason. You sighed taking a deep breath.

“Yea. I’m y/n.” He suddenly got very excited on the phone.

“Oh! Okay um I'm so sorry to bother you but I am a HUGE fan of your art work and I was wondering if you’d be willing to do a commissioned piece for me?” You pinched the bridge of your nose trying to fight off the headache that was creeping up behind your eyes. You sighed.

“I don’t paint anymore.” He hummed.

“Oh...”

“Yea so goodb-”

“Why not?” You were starting to get angry again. You had listened to him and answered him, what more did he want?

“That’s really none of your business. Goodbye.” You hung up and finished dinner. You and your dad sat at the table together as you ate.

“Oh who called earlier.” You shook your head taking another bite.

“No one.” Your dad hummed looking at you.

“What?” He shrugged.

“No one called three times in a row.” You sighed frustrated by your dad’s persistence sometimes.

“Okay! It was some guy asking me to paint him something. I’m not going to.” Your dad nodded.

“Some guy? Did he say who he was?” You nodded and continued to try and focus on your meal and not the conversation you didn’t want to be having.

“Yang... Yang Jeon or something like that. It doesn’t matter, I don’t paint anymore.” Your dad dropped his fork.

“Yang Jeongin?” You shook your head.

“Yea that was it.” Your dad sat there speechless.

“What dad?” He finally snapped out of it.

“You’ve never heard of Yang Jeongin?” You shrugged.

“No?” To be fair when you painted you didn’t keep up with anything on tv or the news. Even now that you didn’t paint you still never really turned on the tv.

“His family is the Yang in the LeeYang corperation. You know that name.” Well yea everyone knew that name, even if you lived under a rock. There wasn’t a single household that didn’t have something made by the LeeYang corp.

“Jeongin is the grandson of the head of the company and his dad is on their board of directors. He was just named the city's most eligible bachelor; his family is old old money.” You shrugged, picking up your plate and walking it to the sink.

“Okay so what. I still don’t paint.” Your dad picked up his plate and took it over to the sink too.

“You could.” You started to fill the sink with water and soap. Your dad stopped you and made you look at him.

“It won’t start to heal until you do sweetie.” You stuck your hands down in the water and shook your head as you tried to will away the tears welling in your eyes.

“No dad.” He sighed, kissed the side of your head and went back to his computer to get back to writing while you cleaned up dinner dishes. That night you laid in bed restless, hoping the clicking of your dad’s computer keys would put you to sleep like they had so many times as a child but you couldn’t. At around two you hollered.

“Bed dad! Brains need sleep to write novels!” You heard him sigh heavily and get up. You weren’t sure when you had turned into the parent. He stopped at your door.

“Goodnight sweetie.” You nodded.

“Goodnight dad.” Thankfully, eventually, you did manage to fall asleep and get a few hours of rest. The next day while you were doing the grocery shopping your cell phone started going off. You grabbed it thinking it was probably your dad wanting some sugary snack. He needed to start eating better and if he asked you for cupcakes you were going to get him apples and bananas. It turned out it wasn’t your dad. It was an unknown number but local so you answered it.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Y/n? It’s Jeongin. PLEASE don’t hang up!” You sighed and pushed your cart down the aisle. Holding your phone with your shoulder as you continued to grab things.

“It’s really not a good time Mr. Yang.”

“I’m sorry I really don’t mean to be a pest. Please call me Jeongin.” You stopped and held onto the phone.

“What can I do for you Mr. Yang?” He let out a nervous laugh.

“Uh well I was hoping that maybe you might reconsider doing the commission? Money is no object...” You hummed.

“I’m aware of who you are and what you have Mr. Yang. I don’t really care. I’m also certain that I’ve told you three times now that I no longer paint.” You hung up on him again and went back to grocery shopping. Jeongin was frustrated. He was usually one to accept a no when that was the answer but he loved your work and he didn’t know why but he needed to get you to paint one for him.

He’d bought so many of your canvas’ from other collectors,for a good deal of money since you disappeared and were no longer painting. No one knew why just that you left the scene two years before, overnight. It had been difficult to dig up contact info on you and after going through all that Jeongin was hopeful that if he asked and said the right number that you’d paint for him. Apparently you didn’t give a shit about numbers which Jeongin found endearing as much as he did frustrating.

A couple days later you were reading a book in the living room when the house phone started to ring. You closed your book, got up and answered it.

“Hello?” Nothing silence.

“Hellooo?” You heard a breath.

“Fuck off perve-”

“Wait wait! It's... I’m not... It’s Jeongin.” You rolled your eyes and sighed irritated that this man was calling you again.

“What do you want Mr. Ya-”

“To apologize...” You stopped surprised to hear his answer.

“For what?” He was surprised to not hear a dial tone.

“For being pushy and not taking no for an answer the first time. If I offended you, I’m deeply sorry.” You felt a little bad. He hadn’t offended you he was just picking at a scab he had no idea about.

“It’s fine Jeongin...” He let out a sigh of relief.

“Okay, thank you for taking my call. Have a good day Ms. y/n, goodbye...” You stopped him just before he hung up.

“WAIT!” He hummed acknowledging he was still there. You were already kicking yourself. You couldn’t believe you were about to say what you were going to say. Why were you going to say what you were about to?

“I’ll do the painting.”

“What?!” Jeongin couldn’t believe his ears.

“I’ll do the painting. Email me your specifications and-” He interrupted you.

“ANYTHING! Literally just do anything you want and tell me a price!”

“Okay okay Jeongin fine.” He wanted to ask a question but he didn’t want to push his luck either. He took a chance.

“Uh would I maybe be able to come by your studio sometime? Once you’ve started?” You hadn’t been to your studio in two years. Your dad stopped by to pick up mail every so often but you had no idea what kind of condition it was in.

“Maybe, let me get it started. Typically I don’t have spectators, especially not the customer.” He understood that and was thankful you were even considering it.

“Yes okay that’s fantastic! Thank you! Thank you so much!”

“Okay Jeongin, I’ll be in touch soon.” You both said goodbye and when you turned to go back to your book your dad was standing there.

“Did I just hear you say you were going to do the painting?” You opened your mouth to complain about his eavesdropping but he quickly cut you off.

“You know what! Forget I said anything! I didn’t hear a thing!” He ran towards the kitchen for a drink and back to his computer before you could start in and you shook your head going back to your book. It was pointless trying to read anymore. All you could think of was a canvas and how you’d move the paint across it. You slammed your book closed, grabbed your car keys and headed towards the studio.

When you got there you stood at the door for a long time. The last time you’d been in there was the day your mom died. When you finally willed yourself to go in it was like stepping into a time capsule. All your paintings were exactly where you’d left them and the one you had been working on was still propped against your easel. You walked up to it and looked at it like your mother had, then picked it up and moved it against one of the walls. You grabbed a fresh canvas, put it on the easel and stared at it, looking for the picture inside it. You stared and stared but you couldn’t see it anymore. Something your mom had planted in you was what made you see it before but she was dead and so was the plant. A whole week you kept going back staring at the blank canvas finding nothing in it.

Week two you were standing in front of the blank canvas, your headphones on trying to find some kind of inspiration. You about jumped out of your skin when someone tapped you on the shoulder.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You turned and there was a man in a button up shirt and suit jacket. He had fox like eyes that were narrow but some how still seemed kind. You both stood there stunned for a moment. You pulled your headphones down.

“Uh... can I help you?” You wanted to be mad that he’d intruded but he was so beautiful you couldn’t bring yourself to be. You were just curious who this man was standing in front of you staring at you. He shook his head as if he were getting the thoughts in order.

“OH! Uh, yea! I’m Jeongin, we spoke on the phone?” Oh. No wonder he was one of the most eligible bachelors in the city. He was a work of art himself. You still had no idea how he found your studio or what he was doing there.

“Oh Mr. Yang yes, um...” He smiled his eyes scrunching up.

“Please Jeongin is fine.” You nodded.

“Yes of course, Jeongin. How did you find me?”

“I hope it’s okay. I called you a few times and then your house, your father finally answered, he told me I could find you here.” Of course he did you thought to yourself.

“I don’t mean to be impatient I’m just excited to see any progress that you’ve made, no matter how little!” You turned and looked at the blank canvas behind you as he started looking around the room at your artwork.

“Which one is mine?” You pointed at the blank canvas and he looked surprised.

“Oh... I see. Um... well... what’s wrong?” He didn’t mean for the question to come out like it had but as soon as he asked it your face scrunched up angry.

“What do you mean what’s wrong?! It doesn’t just create itself! Why don’t you try to make art out of colors you can’t even see and see how quickly you get it done!” He put up his hands trying to calm you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to offend you I just meant like... is it why you stopped painting?” You tossed down your headphones angry.

“I’m pretty sure I said that was none of your business!” Jeongin was doing a terrible job at digging himself out of the hole he’d created.

“You’re right I’m sorry it is, I didn’t mean to pry I just, if I can help...” You walked over to the door and opened it.

“Right now you can help by leaving.” He bowed and walked towards the open door. He looked at you as he passed by.

“I’m sorry I intruded. I won’t bother you again, I’ll wait for your call.” He rushed out and down the stairs towards the exit of the building. You slammed your door shut and walked back over to the canvas picking up your headphones and staring at it angrily. You glanced over at the painting you’d worked on the night of your mom’s accident and then did a double take. You saw the shades of red your mom had mentioned when she had looked at it. How? You rubbed your eyes expecting everything to go back to normal but when you opened them you saw shades of blue in other paintings lying around along with the red.

They were all so bright it almost hurt to look at them and then slowly you saw yellow start to seep into your vision. First a pale yellow then a yellow as bright and vibrant as the reds and blues you could see now too. It wasn’t just the paint though everywhere throughout your studio reds, blues, and yellows popped. You rummaged through your paint tubes grabbing the colors and started smattering them across the canvas adding spackle and sand, cotton and ripped paper. When you stepped back you were covered in the vibrant colors and you had Jeongin’s painting started.

That night when you went home your dad was as happy as he could possibly be to see you walk in covered in paint. You didn’t mention the colors. What if you went to bed and woke up and they were gone? You decided if it didn’t go away you by the time you were done with the painting, you’d tell your dad. The next morning when you woke up you looked at your coveralls from the day before and there, smeared all over the front of it, was red, blue and yellow. You were ecstatic! You pulled on another pair of old bibs and ran to head to the studio. Your dad hollered on your way out the door.

“Hey! Breakfast! Most important meal!” You waved as you grabbed your keys.

“I’ll grab some on the way! See you for dinner dad!” He waved and smiled, grabbing his toast and coffee, heading back to his own work as the door slammed closed behind you. When you got to the studio you started staring at the canvas blankly again. When your cell phone rang it gave you an excuse to look at something else other than your half-finished painting. It was Jeongin. So much for not calling you. You felt kind of guilty for going off on him so badly the day before so you answered.

“Hello?” He always cleared his throat before speaking to you, like he was struggling to form his words.

“Hi y/n, it’s Jeongin... well yes... you know that. Uh... would you like to meet me for coffee tomorrow?” You were confused, did he have more questions? He probably wanted to fire you or...

“Like... a date?” You asked and he started to stammer. This man was the most eligible bachelor?

“Well... um... yes? If you want to! No pressure! I’ll still buy the painting either way!” You were a little flabbergasted.

“Uhhh... I... yea... I guess so.” He let out a huge breath.

“REALLY?!” You couldn’t help but laugh a little at his shock.

“Yes Jeongin. I will meet you tomorrow for a coffee date.” He laughed and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Great okay! Uh... eleven? The shop around the corner from your studio?”

“See you then.” You hung up and started staring at your canvas again frustrated. You made little to no progress the rest of the day and you went home discouraged after having such a burst of inspiration the day before. The next day you went to the studio early, trying and failing to make a little more progress. Before you left to head to the coffee shop you took a couple pictures of what you had done on your phone so you could show Jeongin. When you walked into the café Jeongin was already there waiting at a table. You walked over and he stood up smiling pulling a chair out for you. You bowed smiling.

“Thank you.” He nodded, his cheeks a little pink. The two of you ordered coffee and broke the tension with a little small talk. The conversation naturally evolved into likes and dislikes and you asked a lot of questions about Jeongin trying to keep the topic of conversation off of you. Before you knew it an hour had gone by.

“Oh, wow has it been that long?” Jeongin asked.

“Yea, I should probably head back to the studio and try to get some more done.” Jeongin’s eyes lit up.

“More?!” You had completely forgot to mention the painting.

“Oh yea, well... after you left the other day I made some progress and got it started, here I’ve got some pic-”

“Can I walk you to the studio and see?!” Jeongin’s eyes were scrunched up and his dimples were showing. You’d had a nice time; you didn’t see why not.

“Okay, but only for a minute, I need to work more.” Jeongin stood up excited. He grabbed your coffee ticket and his and started for the register.

“Oh you don’t-” He shook his head.

“Oh no... there’s no way in hell you’re paying for your coffee.” You chewed at your lip and smiled, looking down nodding. He was usually kind of shy around you, soft spoken, so to hear him say something so assertive... well it’s shouldn’t have done the things to your body that it had. Jeongin paid and the two of you walked towards your studio. When you got there Jeongin walked up to the partially finished canvas and looked at it. Something about the way he looked at it from different angles and so closely reminded you of how your mom used to look at your paintings and your heart squeezed inside your chest.

“It’s amazing the way you use colors like this while not being able to tell them apart. This is beautiful already. I don’t know why you would ever stop painting.” Your heart squeezed tighter in your chest and you looked over at the painting from the night of the crash. Jeongin kept looking at the textures and colors, the words that came out of his mouth next shocked not only you but him too.

“Was it your mom’s accident that made you stop, don’t you think she’d want you to continue?” He’d seen articles about the accident when he looked you up. Your jaw dropped as tears instantly welled in your eyes. Jeongin stopped looking at the painting and looked at you as he realized immediately he’d overstepped.

“What?” You heard him loud and clear you were just in disbelief.

“I...” You had snapped here and there at him but this was an all-out explosion.

“DON’T talk about my mother and DON’T assume to know me because you like my work Mr. Yang!” He shook his head.

“It’s not that! I...” You cut him off.

“Is the painting worth more to you knowing that my mom’s death was what made me quit!? That I couldn’t look at a paintbrush or canvas because all I saw was memories of my mother!? Do you need to know that to feel more connected to it!? My mother died because I was stubborn and she brought me food so I’d eat while I worked on my stupid paintings for a stupid exhibit that didn’t even matter! She crashed driving home after leaving here! I killed my mom! My selfish need to create at all costs killed my mom!” Jeongin shook his head as his eyes teared up.

“y/n... no...” You looked at him your cheeks and neck damp with your tears. You started pushing at him screaming.

“Get out! Get out! Just leave me the fuck alone! Leave me! ALONE!” You sank to the ground in front of your canvas just like you had the night your mother died. Tears were streaming down Jeongin’s face now too. He wanted to hold you. Tell you that you were wrong. That your mom dying was just an accident and it wasn’t your fault.

“Get out...” You sobbed, your words a whisper. Jeongin didn’t say anything else he turned and walked towards the door. Just before he shut it he spoke, his voice low.

“I’m sorry.” The door clicked closed and you laid on the floor crying until you fell asleep. You woke up to your cell phone ringing. You grabbed it and squinted looking at it. It was your dad. It was dark now, he was probably worried. You quickly answered.

“Uh... hello?” Your dad could tell he’d woken you up.

“Oh thank god! I was worried when you weren’t home for dinner.” You started apologizing for worrying your dad like that.

“I’m so sorry dad, I fell asleep and I guess I slept longer than I...” You turned on the studio lights and when you looked around you saw greens, and purples, orange. You stopped talking.

“y/n?” Your dad’s voice pulled you back to the conversation.

“Uh slept longer than I meant to. I’m sorry dad I’ll sleep here tonight and be home first thing in the morning.”

“Okay honey, text me when you leave and please be careful?” You hummed absent mindedly.

“Hmm I will dad. Love you.” You hung up and immediately started going through your painting tubes again, you grabbed greens, purples, blues, reds, you mixed new colors and threw paint on the canvas like it would put itself where it needed to go. A lot was still black and white but now there were so many colors! When you finished the painting, you stood back taking it in. It was the most beautiful piece of art you’d ever made. It was vibrant, colors and textures rising off the canvas but it also had a feeling underneath, a sadness, the loss was still there even though you’d gained so much color. You started to cry again, at the pain, at the beauty. When you finally pulled yourself together you pulled out your phone and texted Jeongin.

You: The painting is done. I’ll have it ready for pick up in two days.

Jeongin: I... what?

You: You still want it right?

Jeongin: YES! I DO!

You: Okay it’ll be ready Friday by five

Jeongin: I’ll see you Friday five o'clock sharp

You saw the chat bubbles appear and disappear over and over like he was writing and deleting something multiple times.

Jeongin: y/n?

You: Yes Jeongin, what...

He tried to write sorry a thousand different ways but no matter what he typed out it wasn’t right. Sorry over text for what he’d done wasn’t right.

Jeongin: Thank you

You: You’re welcome

Two days had come and gone and you could still see all the same colors. Inspiration was coming to you a bit more freely now that you’d completed Jeongin’s piece also. You still hadn’t told your dad that you were seeing colors, you still didn’t know what it meant or why it was happening so how were you supposed to explain it to him? You were working on something new when Jeongin knocked at your studio door. Right at five, just like he’d said. You opened the door and he stood there a moment just looking at you. He shook his head and snapped out of it.

“Uh hi! I might be a little early.” You opened the door more letting him in.

“No you’re fine, right on time. You walked over to the completed canvas leaned against the wall and Jeongin followed. When he looked at it his eyes welled up with tears instantly.

“It’s beautiful.” You bowed.

“Thank you.” You whispered. Jeongin turned facing you.

“y/n... I...” He was sorry. He wanted to say he was sorry but his words refused to come out once your eyes bore into his, big and glassy. He took a step towards you closing the space between you, his hand cupped your cheek and before you knew what was happening his soft lips were pressed against yours. Your eyes closed tightly as you kissed him back. He pulled away and you stood there, your fingers pressed to your lips, your eyes closed. When you finally opened them everything was in full color. Red and purple and every color in between. A tear slipped down your cheek and you suddenly realized it was Jeongin. The colors were appearing because of him. He swiped your tear away.

“Please... don’t cry...” You shook your head wiping your face.

“No Jeongin you don’t understand... I don’t know how or what is going on but... I can see colors!” His face scrunched in confusion.

“I thought you’re color blind.” You shook your head smiling ear to ear.

“I am! I was! I don’t know! Every time I’ve been near you more colors have slowly appeared and just now when you kissed me... I can see it all! I can see color!” You threw your arms around his neck and kissed him again. Jeongin wrapped his arms around you, tilted his head and deepened the kiss, taking your breath away.

“Will you go to dinner with me tonight?” Jeongin asked with his forehead resting against yours and you nodded.

“Yes, yes...” You kissed him again and then looked down at your paint splattered overalls.

“Uh... let me run home to get cleaned up and changed?” Jeongin shook his head smiling so big his eyes almost disappeared entirely.

“Text me your address when you’re almost ready and I’ll pick you up.” You were grinning like a fool, you kissed him again three pecks and started backing up towards the door.

“Lock up for me please!” He nodded and you dashed out the door to go get ready as quickly as possible. When you ran into the house you almost ran your dad over.

“Woah woah there speed racer where’s the fire?” You were an idiot. Only just then did you think to tell your dad, everything happened so fast.

“Dad!” He smiled happy to see you so excited about something.

“I can see colors!” He stood up straight and looked at you crazy.

“What?” He asked like he knew you were pulling his leg.

“Dad I swear to god, every time I've seen Jeongin, after I would start seeing certain colors, then he kissed me today and it’s not black and white anymore dad I can actually see colors!” You thought your dad’s reaction would be excitement, hugging you, maybe crying. His face scrunched up.

“He kissed you?” What a dad thing to do, miss the whole point and zero in on that part.

“Yes dad he kissed me.” You rolled your eyes. If at all possible your dad started dadding even more.

“Well I haven’t even met this boy and he’s kissing you?” You shook your head laughing.

“Dad! I told you I can see colors and you’re worried about a boy kissing me?” He shrugged, pouting a little.

“I’m happy but I just would like to know this young man’s intentions.” You hugged your dad.

“Well you’ll get to meet him tonight, he’s picking me up for dinner in a bit.” You started running up the stairs towards your room.

“I have to get ready!” Your door slammed shut behind you and your dad finally let the smile creep onto his face that he’d been holding back. It sounded to him like you’d found your soulmate. It was instant like that for him and your mom too. One touch and they knew. Your dad still missed her every single day, he always would.

Surprisingly you were able to get dressed quickly and you cleaned up nice. A nice black little dress, your hair pulled up and actually paint and spackle free, a little bit of eyeliner and mascara. You noticed a pretty red lipstick that popped out at you and chose that for a final touch. When you walked down your dad was sitting in the living room with Jeongin who looked as nervous as the first time he’d talked to you.

“Dad?” He smiled innocently.

“Yes pumpkin?” You pinched his arm.

“Stop scaring him.” Your dad feigned pain and laughed. He leaned down and kissed your cheek.

“Have fun sweetie.” You smiled and motioned to Jeongin for you to leave. He stood up quickly and walked over by you, his hand resting at the small of your back instinctively.

“It was very nice meeting you sir. I promise I’ll keep her safe.” Your dad could feel it when he’d met Jeongin too, whatever pull there was between you was strong. Your dad knew Jeongin meant it from the bottom of his heart when he said he’d keep you safe.

“I know you will.” Your dad smiled and headed up to his study to put his nose to his screen, he had a novel to finish. Jeongin was an absolute gentleman the whole night, opening your car door, helping you in and out, helping with your chair. You had gotten cold on the small walk you took and Jeongin put his jacket over your shoulders. You burrowed in and it smelled like his cologne and something that was just him, you couldn’t place it but it made you feel warm all over and your body erupted in goosebumps. Jeongin had been holding your hand and noticed.

“You’re cold, let’s get back to the car.” You nodded and he led you back up the walkway towards his car. He opened the door again and helped you in before closing it behind you. He ran around and got in shutting his door then looking and smiling at you. You wrapped your arms around Jeongin’s shoulders and kissed him deeply. Your lips parted, tongue teasing. He held your face as you made out in the car for a while. When you pulled away you gripped at the collar of his shirt, panting and biting your lips.

“This is where I’d invite you to spend the night but I live with my dad.” You huffed out a breathless laugh and Jeongin’s heart raced faster, spend the night?!

“Uh... I live alone, you could come back to mine...” You smiled and kissed him again.

“I’d love to.” You sat down in your seat and buckled your belt. Jeongin’s smile was so big his dimples looked like they never ended. He started the car and headed towards his apartment. If you could call the penthouse of a building his grandpa owns an apartment. When you were with Jeongin you never thought about the fact that he was a Yang and came from money. He was just Jeongin to you, shy, sweet. The apartment reminded you quickly.

“Holy shit! You live here alone?!” He walked towards you and pulled you close.

“Not forever hopefully.” He said cocking an eyebrow at you and you laughed. You started to laugh but then Jeongin’s lips were on your skin moving down your neck and your laughs turned into breathy pants. He claimed your lips again and you started to unbutton his shirt before running your hands up his firm chest and pushing it off his shoulders to the ground. You started to kiss across his shoulder, gently grazing your teeth against his skin and he shuddered. You pulled away and turned, your back facing Jeongin now.

“Will you unzip me?” He walked up behind you, his face buried in your neck as his hands worked your zipper down. Your dress fell off you and when you turned around you were completely naked and Jeongin’s brain checked out.

“Fuck you’re a work of art!” You wrapped your arms around his strong shoulders and kissed him.

“Take me to bed Jeongin, please.” His lips couldn’t be bothered to leave yours as he led you to his bedroom. You worked at his belt pulling it open and off before tossing it and starting on his button and fly. When his pants were loose, they fell and he stepped out of them as he continued leading you towards his big soft bed. When the back of your legs touched the bed you crawled back on to it. Jeongin confidently dropped his boxers and rightfully so. He was not... lacking. He crawled on top of you hooking his arm under your knee and pulling it up, spreading your legs open for him. Before he pushed into you he looked into your eyes. He looked like he was watching the film of your future in them.

“I think you’re my soulmate.” When he said it is when it clicked. Of course. You nodded, your eyes tearing up. When he sank into you, you moaned closing your eyes, a tear slipping down. Jeongin let go of your leg and wrapped it around his waist as he pulled out and pushed into you deep again. He leaned over kissing the skin your tear had rolled down. You opened your eyes and were in awe at the sight of him above you. His dark hair, narrow eyes, his strong chiseled frame held up over you so he didn’t crush you under him. You pulled him closer wrapping your arms and legs around him, wanting him to crush you.

“Faster please...” You whispered and Jeongin’s body moved faster on top of yours. You could feel the pressure building already. You gripped his hair and kissed him as your bodies moved together his cock constantly moving against that place inside you that made your toes numb.

“God yes! Right there!” He fucked you harder and you could feel your climax making the hundred-yard dash towards the finish line.

“I... I... I’m g-gonna cum! FUCK! Don't stop!” Jeongin’s lips overtook your moans as he rolled his hips into you. You didn’t know how he kept doing it but every time you were with Jeongin he showed you new colors. The colors exploding behind your eyes as you came were moving and alive. Jeongin didn’t slow down. No, he sat up as your hands still gripped and clung to his shoulders and fucked you faster with the intention of reaching his own climax and prolonging yours.

“Yesyesyesyes oh it feels so good Jeongin! Mmmm...” a few beads of sweat dripped down the hard lines of his torso as he felt his orgasm approaching.

“Oh go-fuck! I’m gonna cum jagiya!” You moaned and nodded unable to form words anymore. Jeongin pulled out and came on your tummy and pussy. He stroked his cock as he coated you in his cum. He trembled as he worked every drop out onto you. He sat back on his legs, his head towards the ceiling, his eyes closed as he caught his breath and came down. You laid there a million bumble bees buzzing inside you. You ran two fingers through his cum and sucked on them. He looked down at you sweaty and laughing from the euphoria. Once Jeongin was able to function again he ran and got a washcloth to clean you up with. When you were all clean he crawled back into bed and pulled you close, your head resting on his chest, listening to his slow steady heartbeat.

Later, after some digging, you found out you were in fact soulmates. Jeongin never knew why he was so driven to collect your art but it had felt like each piece he got was a piece of you, he felt closer to you with each one. Then he finally searched for you to ask you to paint something and well the rest played out. Jeongin took all the artwork he purchased and opened a gallery for you. You continued painting and even finished painting what you’d been working on the night of your mom’s accident. It was put up in the gallery as a memorial to her. Your dad finished his novel, you found the love of your life and your love for painting again. Your life was no longer a theory of color, it was a spectrum, a prism. It was all the colors your mother had dreamed for you and more.

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

@acciocriativity @caroline-ds-world @chansynie @ughbehavior @jquellen27 @jisuperboard @fixation-dump @lachinitaaaaa @rinrinndou @bangchans-angel @laylasbunbunny @owo-manii-uwu @armystay89 @b00dyguts @purplenimsicle @caticorn61 @lauraneuuh @channieandhisgoonsquad @minnysproutgriffinteddy @svintsandghosts @the-sweetest-rose @alice630 @3rachasninja @m0ri-apeuda @eastleighsblog @linoification @mlink64 @smally97 @fun-fanfics @chansducky10 @starfire21 @cessixja @siewoon @berryberrytan @binnies-minsung-fanclub @lethallyprotected

#stray kids smut #skz smut #yang jeongin smut #jeongin smut #skz317cb97 #cal 🖤#skz317cb97 soulmate au series

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starryletters · 8 months

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gojo; friends to lovers headcanons!

notes : set in 2006, reader being silly and a bit dense, gojo falls first and you fall just as hard , fluff! suguru and shoko mentioned bc i love their friendgroup🫶

a/n : eep my first (published) piece of writing! im so excited, and i hope people like it!!! this isn't the most polished, but i wanted to start off with something a little more simple ( ◡‿◡ *) anywhoo satoru is the boyfriend ever!

you met him when you joined the jujutsu high second years aka geto shoko and gojo!

and gojo IMMEDIATELY decided to annoy the shit out of you

but like in an endearing way (that's what he thought, at least)

surprisingly, you actually found him funny, and bantering with him back and forth quickly became your favorite part of every day.

he really liked how you were able to keep up with him and how easy it was to talk to you about anything and everything. no matter what he had to say, you had a reply (or an insult) ready to go.

satoru's a really physically affectionate person in general and he was over the moon when you didnt seem to mind how he randomly slung his arm around your shoulder or how he liked to fall asleep with his head in your lap. (i could tie to this whole thing to his infinity and talk about how sad it is for someone that shows love through physival affection to experience smth so traumatic that they put a LITERAL barrier between them and others preventing all forms of touch but..i wont!)

it wasn't anything romantic at first! (i love platonic physical affection, okay?)

but there were small moments where you felt his touch and felt such a warmth in your heart. you had pure adoration for him [and if you ever caught his stare, you would know he adored you the same.]

anywhoo! you always thought he was attractive because i mean, look at him

but you never really saw him as a romantic prospect. at least not until you talked to him and got to know him. which you told shoko later on, and she called you a freak of nature for it because "usually he has the opposite effect on people"

there wasn't really a distinct moment you can remember where you developed feelings for him. the realization totally caught you by surprise!

you were hanging out with your fellow second years after school, and gojo made some dumb dad joke, at which only he laughed (of course), but you glanced at him from the side and his laugh!!! it was so beautiful!!! like, why are you enchanted by this LOSER right now???

either way, that's when you noticed that maybe that feeling you got in your stomach whenever gojo touched you may not have been entirely platonic. horrified and also a teensy bit excited at your discovery you look away and try to make your blushing face cool down. cool, this was definitely gonna ruin one of the best relationships and friendships you've ever had! gojo knew geto and shoko before you, so if you ever confessed, it would probably ruin your friendship with them too! cool, cool, very cool.

of course, that was total bs, but whatever you were anxious at, your newfound feelings and relationships are confusing, and you maybe (definitely) had a bit of tunnel vision in that moment.

after that (like the smart person you are), you convinced yourself that "well. if i just avoid gojo..the feelings will probably go away, right?"

oh, you poor naive FOOL

first of all, avoiding gojo was no easy feat (just ask nanami)

second of all... by the point you realized your feelings, he was already completely WHIPPED for you

"suguru! did you see? she totally looked at me for two seconds longer than usual today!"

"uh-huh"

"she definitely loves me back, dont you think so too?"

"you're delusional."

"you're my best friend! you're supposed to indulge me in my delusions!"

definitely the type to lay on his stomach and kick his feet in the air while thinking about you

and he NEVER shuts up about you

shoko and geto seriously deserve financial compensation for this and are BAFFLED by the fact that you dont notice how lovestruck he is by you?

so as soon as he realized you stopped replying to his texts like you usually did and you didn't sit next to him anymore so he could lean his head on your shoulder, he was devastated

DEVASTATED

like what did he do????? why does the universe hate him??? ( like he isnt the strongest sorcerer ever?)

you thought you were clever for coming up with your "get rid of feelings for satoru" plan

but no. for days now everywhere you were, suddenly there he was.

you didn't give him the silent treatment or anything you just... kept your distance.

well, you tried anyway

man has no sense of personal space.

"i missed you." he pouts, leaning down and placing his head on your shoulder from behind. "we see each other everyday, thats not enough for you?" you replied, trying to remain calm while he was so SO close to you. "we barely saw each other at all yesterday!" he whines. "i was busy -" "no, you weren't." "yes, i was?" "nuh-uh, " your face contorts into a grimace. "seriously, how old are you?" "sev-" "it was a rhetorical question." he moves from his postion behind you and stands right in front of you. if he wasn't so silly looking, you would probably be intimidated by his towering height.

his face turns serious. "you've been avoiding me." he states, a small pout on his lips. shit, dont look at his lips! "eh..uh..what? no, i'm not! that's crazy talk..." you sputter nervously. he sighs, and puts his hands on your shoulders "are you okay?" he's genuinely concerned for you now. damnit why couldn't he be less likeable?! this was really throwing a wrench in your plan.

"i am..i'm just..uh..argh." you lower your head and massage your temple out of frustration. your heartbeat was going a mile a minute. "i didn't mean to avoid you, satoru." you say in a soft tone. a lie, but you couldn't handle telling him the truth. his face brightens instantly. "i'll forgive you if you pinky promise to never avoid me ever again." he reaches out his pinky. "wow, future me is gonna regret that when you get inevitably annoying.." you chuckle reaching out your hand to interlink your finger with his. this was good, this was normal. you felt normal, platonic, and normal feelings. yep. a bright grin spreads across his pretty face. "although.. you might still have to buy me something sweet to really convince me!" of course. "you're the worst." "you love it!" yeah, you do.

okay, plan b. push it all down and focus on your friendship!

you did really enjoy just being his friend after all..otherwise you wouldn't care so much about ruining your friendship!

so things went back to normal sort of...except for the fact that over the next few months, the romantic tension got worse and worse.

you thought it was just you being delusional when he started holding your hand more and more frequently, freuqently bought you small trimkets and gifts( his reason being " i thought of you!") told you how pretty and cool you looked after missions, even with your hair all messed up and uniform askew. you tried so hard not to read into it even though these things were obviously pretty romantic.

satoru thought he was going insane

"i mean??? am i not being clear enough, suguru? am i being too subtle?"

"i dont think the word subtle really suits you, in any situation ever."

at this point, he was close to giving up. maybe you just didn't like him as much as he liked you?

but then! one late summer night!

the first kiss!

which was sort of out of the blue but also not really, since you'd been pining for each other for a while.

he was invading spending time in your dorm room late at night again like he frequently did. he got real chatty at night. you were both sitting on your bed, and his head was leaning against your shoulder, the soft ends of his hair tickling your neck.

it was around mignight, his voice was low and he spoke in a hushed tone.

"..you know? and then he had the audacity to insult nintendo? like sorry you hate fun, loser? anyways my original point was..." he trails off his voice, getting lower and lower by the end. you turn your head in his direction, expecting to find him asleep. instead, your nose almost bumps against his.

his eyes are..so breathtaking this close, with the moonlight reflecting in his sapphire irises. his snow-white lashes flutter as he glances down at your lips. a silent request.

this moment was so full of tender love while still so quiet. you had never felt anything quite like it before. you nod ever so slightly and softly your lips meet eachother. slotting together like two puzzle pieces, it made something click in your brain. suddenly everything made sense.

after a few moments you pulled back. your face felt hot. it was still quiet. gojos thumb rubs over the back of your hand.

he leans his head back onto your shoulder, positively beaming, he giggled "like i was saying.." he starts again the smile still evident in his voice.

an equally bright grin breaks out on your face. he was not even acknowledging the kiss you two shared. but it felt right that he didn't. this moment felt so warm and so much like satoru. there was no more confusion and no words that needed to be said. you both understood what it meant. you both finally understood what you were.

what you failed to consider was telling your best friends. geto and shoko. the four of you were hanging out and gojo had to leave early for another mission, before he leaves he quickly pecks you on the lips (which to be fair surprised you too) before waving and running off. shoko's eyes were practically bulging out of her head, and getos face couldn't decide between a surprised expression and one of disgust. "what. was that." shoko furtows her brows. "uhh..oh! oh." you couldn't exactly pinpoint what you were supposed to say now. how did you forget to tell them? how did GOJO forget to tell them? granted, it only happened last night, but still... you had assumed he spent the rest of the night lying on his stomach, feet kicking, telling geto every detail. "we're dating?" you reply awkwardly. "damn it!" shoko exclaims, and suguru smiles smugly. odd reactions... that's what you thought until you saw shoko pull out her wallet and hand suguru a big wad of cash. "see? i told you they would figure it out before they turned 25." he chides.

thank you for reading!!! and i hope you liked it! im not sure about this formatting (w/ the tumblr bulleted list. it's like not spaced apart enough, yk?) anyway! im open to constructive criticism, but please be nice im sensitive LOL (ﾉω･､)

#☆ — stars writings #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk #x reader #headcanons #drabble #gojo x you #gojo satoru imagine #jjk imagines

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burntheedges-updates · 9 months

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over again, chapter 2

This is my updates-only blog! Follow me at @burntheedges

Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: you fell in love with Joel Miller in Austin, Texas, in 2001, but you thought you lost him and your whole family in 2003 when the world turned upside down. now it's 2024, and you find the surprise of your life waiting for you in Jackson, Wyoming. or, five times you and Joel fell deeper in love, on both sides of the apocalypse (and one time you did something about it)18+ minors DNI chapter tags/warnings: fluff, light flirting, touching hands, hugs, cold/illness, light angst, a teensy bit of pining, teacher!reader (no specific details given in fic, it’s just your job from Before) a/n: This is Chapter 2: Breaking the Ice. I’ve done my best with the overall TLOU (show) timeline, but I can’t find a timeline that has the specific dates/months that Joel and Ellie passed through Jackson and returned. For the purposes of this fic they pass through in late November, 2023, and come back in April, 2024 (ish). Enjoy. :) word count: 7.4k

series main post | series playlist | ao3 | chapter 1 || chapter 3

Chapter 2: Breaking the Ice

Jackson, Spring 2024

You’ve been in Jackson almost four months when Joel and Ellie return. You have a couple of friends, but it hasn’t really been long enough to establish yourself in the community. You’re a bit of a loner. You mostly talk to Tommy, Maria, and some of the others who work the same jobs you do. Tommy vouched for you, which seems to have given you a real in with some of the people here, but you have to put in the work.

You’re still floating, still trying to settle, and not at all ready to return to teaching. You know Tommy told Maria about what you did Before but neither of them have bugged you about it. The idea of walking into a classroom fills you with both longing and dread and for now you’re still avoiding it completely. You and Tommy have both been surprised at how much you like working outdoors – you were truly an indoors-only person Before. The first time he caught you standing in a pile of horse manure three months ago he doubled over laughing and almost fell in it himself. You’re still getting used to being around someone who knows you so well.

Maria is slowly warming up to you, but she’s been a little distant since she realized stories about what Joel (and Tommy, not that she seems to mind that part) has been up to in the last 20 years don’t seem to phase you. You aren’t good enough friends yet to tell her the things you’ve done, the things you regret and the things you don’t. It’s not like you’ve been an angel yourself. You’re not surprised to learn that Joel did whatever it took to protect people, to survive and save his last remaining family member. You can imagine who he became when he thought you were dead along with Sarah. It’s the same thing that happened to you, after all. The same transformation.

After that first meeting at the gates (when you barely said anything at all to each other before Tommy swept all three of you away, ignoring Ellie’s obvious curiosity and her elbow to Joel’s side as you stared at each other in the road, unmoving) you don’t get a chance to really talk with Joel for a couple of days. You get it – you know Joel, the Dad. He’s settling Ellie in and your heart clenches because you can remember what he was like with Sarah. You haven’t thought about Sarah this much in years.

(That’s a lie – you think about her every single day. But not like this, with two people nearby who knew her, too. It’s different somehow and it’s making you feel things you thought you’d forgotten how to feel. It’s probably best for you to get over that feeling, that hurt, that initial reaction at a distance. You don’t want it to touch Ellie. She doesn’t know you.)

So Joel and Ellie move back into their house, which happens to be next door to yours because Tommy Miller will stop meddling when he’s dead. You don’t talk to Ellie that first day, but you and Joel make eye contact as he stands on his front porch and you stand in the road where Tommy just left you. His eyes are soft and dark and so familiar (and longed for) that it hurts. He takes a hesitant step towards you and speaks his first real words to you in 20 years. The sound of his voice still sends shivers down your spine.

“Can we– I can’t today, I’m sorry, I have to– Ellie–“

“I know, Joel,” you interrupt. “She needs to settle in, and she doesn’t know who I am. Take care of that first.” When you say his name you see it hit him and pin him in place. It was the same for you back at the gate. You drift a little closer to their porch steps.

“I’ve had a little bit longer to sit with the idea that– that you’re still alive. I’ve been here a few months. I’m not going anywhere, ok? We can talk later. Maybe in a couple of days?”

As you talk he’s searching your face and you feel yourself doing the same. Looking for the person you knew Before. At your offer, he looks relieved.

“Yeah, darlin’. In a couple of days.”

You can’t hide your reaction to the endearment or the feeling that washes over you, once-familiar and almost frightening as it echoes from Before. You think he might have surprised himself with it, too. When’s the last time he called anyone that? Maybe the last time you heard it. For a moment you just stare at each other.

It takes Ellie poking her head out the door to jumpstart you both back into action.

Joel heads inside and you head home, but you can hear her start to grill him about you as they close the door. (Who the hell is that?) It makes you smile.

…

You spend that night staring at the ceiling of your bedroom, completely unable to sleep. Joel is here, alive, probably 50 feet away from you and just knowing that keeps you awake. The following day you move from your house to work and back again in a daze, avoiding the dining hall, trying not to stare at their house or worry that Joel is avoiding you when you don’t see them. By the next morning, two mostly sleepless nights since Joel and Ellie walked through the gates of Jackson, you’re exhausted. You get dressed and find yourself standing in your front hallway, talking yourself down from going to lean on Tommy for some information. It’s only been two days, like 36 hours, get a fucking grip.

It’s convenient, then, that you’re so close to the door when someone unexpectedly knocks on it. As you open it, your heart leaps into your throat.

Joel Miller is on your porch. He looks flustered and worried. You can tell he’s been running his hands through his hair – it’s messy and going every which way, just like it used to whenever he was anxious about something. The only difference now is the brown is shot through with gray.

“Joel? Is everything alright?” As soon as the question leaves your mouth you feel a bit of deja vu, but you have no time to analyze the feeling before he steps towards you and you lose track of the thought at his proximity. You step back to let him in.

“I’m sorry, darlin’, I know we need to talk, but Ellie’s come down with something when we got back. I’ve been taking care of her. I didn’t want you to think I’ve been avoiding you.”

He’s twisting his hands together in front of him as he speaks and you notice one is shaking. You almost reach out to rest your hands on top of his to soothe him, but you stop yourself. You’re not ready to touch him like that and you doubt he’s ready to be touched. You clench your hands into fists and hide them behind your back instead.

“Oh no, is she alright? Do you need anything?”

You realize as you offer that you don’t know what help you, an outsider, could provide — everything is different than it was Before, when you would have been in the same house helping with the sick child from the start. You haven’t even really been around kids in years. It’s a weird feeling and you’re not sure what to do with it.

Joel shakes his head. “No, we’re fine, Tommy brought some things by yesterday and this morning, she’s already on the upswing.” He crosses his arms and sighs, looking down at the ground between you unhappily. “But I need to go talk to Maria and some others, and Tommy needs to be there with me, and, well. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind sitting with her for a bit?”

He looks up at you from under his eyelashes, a hesitant look on his face. “Or, um, sitting in the house, just in case she needs something. She’s in bed, you could stay on the couch. I know you don’t know each other yet but I wouldn’t ask anyone else here to do this.”

It doesn’t escape you that he said yet, that he implied you will get to know Ellie. It wakes something in you, something painful and raw and long-dormant, something you haven’t felt in 20 years. You have the sudden urge to run and hide and you twist your fingers behind your back, willing your feet to stay right where they are. It’s different somehow from the wave of emotion you felt a few months ago, sitting on the ground, tangled in your sleeping bag, shocked at the news that this man was still alive. It’s a feeling you’ve been running from since you realized Sarah must be dead.

But you’ve basically never said no to this man, not about anything important. You aren’t going to start now.

“Of course, Joel. I’ll follow you over.” That feeling of deja vu is back, and you wonder if he isn’t feeling it too, as he tilts his head at you with a contemplative look on his face. He nods and thanks you and turns to go.

You suddenly realize you’ve been reading his expressions and mannerisms this whole time and you don’t seem to have lost your fluency with it. You wonder if he can still read you just as well, and if he can, what he’s seeing. You’re not sure, yourself. You can’t imagine what you’re giving away.

You shut the door behind him and take a moment, forehead resetting against the wood, to just breathe.

…

When you arrive at the house next door, Joel calls for you to come in from somewhere upstairs and you take a moment to look around. They haven’t even been there two days and they already have some belongings visible in the living room. The kitchen is in a bit of disarray, the way it normally gets when a kid is sick. That feeling that almost sent you running hits again, like an echo. You close your eyes against the memories of Sarah and you miss Joel reappearing at the top of the stairs until he calls your name softly.

He’s stopped halfway down the stairs and beckons for you to follow him back up. You do and he leads you down the hall to what is clearly Ellie’s room – he goes straight in and sits beside her on the bed as you linger in the doorway.

“Ellie, this is—“

“I know who she is, Joel, you already told me,” she interrupts, rolling her eyes and then coughing a bit. The look of disdain she gives him is so classic teenager it takes your breath away. It’s so easy to recall Sarah doing the same thing. You can picture the same look on her face.

You breathe slowly through it and hope your reaction doesn’t show. You smile, weakly. Ellie is stone faced in response, and she glances at Joel, looking to him to take the lead. He’s looking at you. You gather yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ellie, I’m sorry you’re feeling shitty.” She looks a little amused at your description but she doesn’t laugh. She’s clearly wary of you, which is fair. “I’m just going to be downstairs on the couch, call if you need anything, ok?”

With that you turn and head back downstairs, and you can see the relief in her expression as you do. You’re also relieved. She’s not comfortable around strangers, and for you the role of babysitter is sitting uncomfortably on your shoulders like an old coat that you outgrew and haven’t touched in years. You imagine it’s worse for her when she’s not feeling great.

You hear their low voices for a few minutes and then Joel reappears on the stairs, brow furrowed.

“Are you sure she’s ok with this? I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.” You have to ask.

He looks at you and his brow relaxes, softening a bit. “It’s fine. She’s done nothing but sleep and grill me about you for the last two days, coughing the whole time. She’s just not so great with strangers. I think her curiosity’ll take over, she always wants to know everything. Besides, she’ll probably fall asleep.” You nod as he moves past you towards the door. To your surprise, he reaches out to touch your arm, so softly and briefly you wonder if he even makes contact or if you’re imagining it. You shiver, resisting the urge to hug your arms across your chest. You know it would look like a rejection. “It should only be a couple of hours.”

“We’ll be fine, Joel.” Through the open front door you see Tommy waiting for him outside, and he nods and winks at you before he and Joel make their way towards the center of town. You roll your eyes in response.

…

You spend the first fifteen minutes after they leave sitting on the couch, staring at the ceiling, thoughts racing. Something about this feels so much like Before it’s making you anxious, but you’re exhausted and you’ve spent 20 years burying or shying away from those memories. You can’t immediately recall why. When it gets to be too much you stand and head into the kitchen, looking for something to do with your hands. Thankfully there’s a pile of dishes waiting for you.

You’re almost done with the dishes, successfully avoiding thinking too hard about Before – or now, or anything at all – when you hear something and turn off the water to listen more closely. You hear your name called softly from upstairs and immediately dry your hands to go see what Ellie needs.

When you arrive in her doorway she’s sitting up and fidgeting.

“Hey, what do you need?” You put what is hopefully a neutral and helpful look on your face. You haven’t dealt with a teenager in decades but you remember well how they see through pretense. Sarah never turned down a chance to call any of you on your bullshit.

She eyes you for a moment, glancing back at her lap where she’s gripping the blanket tightly, before saying, “Can I– Can I ask you some questions? About Before.”

Your eyes widen a little, you can’t help it, but you don’t want to shut her down. Before she can take your expression, whatever it is, as a rejection you say yes and move a little further into the room. She tenses.

“Sorry, I’ll stay over here. Can I get a chair?” She regards you silently for a moment, and then points to the corner to your right where you haven’t looked yet. There’s a chair with a jacket slung over the back. You nod and take a seat.

“Ask away.”

She’s quiet for a moment, looking like she’s thinking. “So you were going to get married, Before. Right?”

You nod. “Right. Joel proposed in 2002, in December. He meant to do it on New Year’s Eve but he couldn’t wait and proposed early.” Ellie snorts, and then coughs a little bit. You keep yourself from moving towards her to hand her the glass of water on her nightstand. She doesn’t know you. And she’s a teenager, not a little kid. She’s older than Sarah. Don’t think about it.

“That sounds… romantic?” Her tone says that the idea of Joel doing something romantic is so outlandish as to be impossible.

You smile, a little bit sadly. “I know I’m different now, so I imagine he is, too. But he was always a huge romantic. We knew each other for a while before we actually got together, but once we were dating, it was like he couldn’t help it.” You’re suddenly glad you’ve had three months to think about him being alive. This conversation would have felt impossible when you first arrived in Jackson. Now it’s possible, just difficult.

“What, did he like, give you flowers?” The look on her face says she considers this unbelievable and slightly offensive, which reminds you so strongly of 13-year old Sarah you have to take a deep breath. You look away to make it seem like you need to think.

“No, well, he did a few times. But it was other things.”

“Like what?”

“He… well, he took me dancing. For our first date, and then pretty often afterwards.”

“Dancing?” She’s incredulous. “No way, I refuse to believe that old man can dance.”

You can’t help but grin. “Yeah, dancing. That old man has moves.”

She scoffs and asks what else, clearly moving on from the dancing. For now, you assume.

“Well, we were both bad at remembering dates, but he never let an important date pass without doing something special anyway. He used to do little things for me before I even noticed they needed to be done, especially around the house. He never held back from telling me how he felt. He made it clear how important I was to him, and how much he liked having me in his life, by making space for me in it. I don’t know how much you want to hear about it, but … yeah, the man’s a romantic. No question.” You pause, and smile a little wryly. “Tommy can back me up, and his version’ll probably be way funnier. At our expense.” You feel something inside you start to thaw as you let yourself remember Joel this way.

Ellie looks like she's trying to hide a smile, which you count as a win. Then her expression shifts, and something makes you a little wary with how she sets her shoulders, readying herself to ask another question.

“D'you want to get back together?” The look on her face says she isn’t sure that’s what she wants. Not at all.

You suddenly feel like you’re on a tightrope. You’re out of breath even though you haven’t moved an inch. You know you have to give the right answer here. But you aren’t even sure what it is for yourself, let alone for Ellie. Before you saw Joel at the gates you’d decided you wouldn’t let this second chance pass you by, but what does that actually mean, practically? For the people you are now?

“Ok, that’s a tough question, and no, I’m not blowing you off. I’m just going to be honest, ok?” You look down, lacing your hands together in your lap.

“Joel and I were so in love, like head over heels for each other, 20 years ago. We both thought the other person died, and our kid did die. I’m… in shock right now. I think he is, too. I found out he was alive a few months ago, he found out I’m alive two days ago. Nothing feels straightforward or clear." You squeeze your hands together and clear your throat.

“I think we knew each other well enough to know what our lives might have been like in between, what we might have done. Or had to do. Maybe we imagined it sometimes. Um.” You pause to take a deep breath and glance up. Ellie is looking down at her hands. You can’t tell how this is going over with her but you keep going anyway.

“To answer your question… I never stopped loving him. He’s the love of my life. But I can’t say for sure what we’ll do until we talk, which we will at some point. It’s– it’s been too long to assume anything. To think everything is the same.” Your hands are shaking. You think you might be rambling, so you pause to get back on track.

“But that’s not the most important thing right now. You need to get better and you both need to settle in, you know? That’s his focus. As it should be. And I know he’ll talk to you about it. Whatever happens. I’m sorry I don’t have a– a clear answer.”

Your heart is beating fast as you finish. You can feel it in your throat.

Ellie is frowning as she meets your eyes again. She looks lost, her voice almost a whisper as she says, “I don’t… he has Tommy. And now you.” This admission clearly costs her, and she crosses her arms and looks away from you.

Suddenly you think you understand the conversation you’ve been having. You’re surprised and a little warmed by the fact that she was willing to say that to you at all.

“Ellie, I might not know everything about what Joel’s life has been like for the last 20 years – not yet, anyway – but I do know what that man looks like when he’s being a parent.” You think you see her suck in a breath at your words. You swallow and continue, “it looks the same now as it did then. And yeah, you don’t know me, but I knew him, and going by my own experience? That part of him is still in there. I can see it. As far as that man is concerned, you’re his kid. No question about it. And that’s not something we take back. It just is, ok? It’s forever and it’s unconditional. I promise you, it never goes away. Not for us.”

…

After your conversation with Ellie, which you’re hoping went well but you’re honestly not sure, you’re completely wrung out and over your own feelings. You spend about 45 minutes puttering around the kitchen and living room to avoid feeling any more of them before you hear footsteps on the porch.

Joel opens the door, looking around and spotting you quickly. He looks worried, but his expression clears a little when he finds you sitting at the kitchen table. “Hey, everything alright?”

“Yes, everything's fine. She didn’t have another coughing fit, we chatted for a little bit and then she fell back asleep.” His eyebrows raise when you say you talked to Ellie. As he takes the seat across from you his boot nudges yours under the table and then moves away. You try to ignore the effect that tiny touch has on you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It went well, I think? You’ll probably hear about it either way.” You finish with a little bit of a rueful smile, hoping she’s warming up to you and not the opposite.

Joel smiles a bit in response. “Thank you again, darlin’. I couldn’t put them off anymore and I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to be here with her.” He sighs, running his hand through his hair.

“To be honest with you, I’m still in shock that you’re here for me to ask. I… well. It feels a little bit too good to be true.” He looks uncertain as he says it. You nod. You feel the same way.

“I know. I… it’s kind of surreal? I want…” you hesitate, but he’s watching you like nothing could be more important than how you finish that sentence. You decide to just let it all out. It’s worked for you so far today.

“I know it’s been 20 years, Joel, but part of me has felt like everything is the same from the moment I saw you, which is confusing as hell, because the other part of me knows it can’t be and it isn’t. You don’t know what I’ve done, I don’t know what you’ve done. We’re not the same people. Even if it feels like it. Even if looking at you and hearing your voice feels—“ You clear your throat and look away.

“Even if it feels the same. Even if I want… Even if…” you trail off, not sure if you’re ready to finish that sentence, after all. You realize you’re gripping your hands together so tight it hurts, and you slowly relax them and flatten them on the table in front of you. You take a breath before continuing, gaze trained on your hands.

“It’s like we hit pause 20 years ago and neither of us knew for sure what happened so there was no closure, no clear explanation. I don’t know about you, but I don’t know how to bridge that time with now. How to remember that version of me, the one you knew, and be this me. How to… Joel, so much happened, and I imagined so many versions of you. What our lives would have been like.” You take a deep breath. “I guess that’s what we need to talk about.”

You look over, gaze low to avoid his eyes, and see Joel is clenching his fists a bit, like he’s holding back. You’d like to think it’s from reaching towards you but maybe that’s just wishful thinking. Maybe you shouldn’t assume you’re reading him as well as you think you are. Maybe you need to spend more time reminding yourself of the things you don’t know about this man.

Before your thoughts can spiral too far, though, he does reach out. You watch as his fists relax and you track the movement of his hand as it lifts from the table and slowly extends towards yours. He’s trembling, you notice, and then you realize you are too. You can’t tear your eyes away as his fingertips lightly touch the back of your left hand where it rests on the table. You feel all of the hair on your arms stand up in response.

“Darlin’, I…” he pauses, and you both hold your breath as your eyes meet.

Time slows to a crawl. He puts more gentle pressure into your connection, sliding his hand over the back of yours, touching you with intent for the first time in two decades. His thumb moves lightly back and forth over your wrist, a soothing motion. All of your focus narrows to that point of connection, even as his gaze pins you in place. You can’t look away.

Holy hell. His hand fully covers yours and squeezes. After the two barely-there touches you’ve shared today it feels almost obscene. His hand on yours in the present calls up memories of his hands on you Before and you're dizzy, spinning through your memories. You didn’t know you could still feel this way. Not even for Joel.

He opens his mouth to say something and your gaze drops to his lips. You’re desperate to hear it, whatever it is, when suddenly the moment pops like a soap bubble as the more annoying Miller sticks his head in the front door.

“Joel! I brought food. Oh! Hey there, sunshine.” He greets you, and then grins at you. “Am I interrupting something?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, which is so absurd it kickstarts you back into motion. You need to get out of here.

“No!” You say a bit too loudly as you leap to your feet, breaking your connection with Joel. You feel its absence immediately. Your hand is tingling. “I should get going, I don’t want to intrude and I want Ellie to be comfortable so she can get better. Joel, I– do you want–“

He interrupts you and catches your eye to hold you in place, but he doesn’t move his hands from the table. “Yes, I do.” You’re glad he does. You aren’t actually sure what you were going to ask, but at least you’re in agreement about it, whatever it is. “We still need to talk. I’ll find you tomorrow?”

You nod, a bit wildly. “I’ll be at the stables all day but I should be home around four.” He smiles at you, starting to stand, and you make a beeline for the door, elbowing Tommy a bit as you pass him. He makes a big show of staggering away, moaning and overselling it, but he deserves it anyway.

As you turn onto the road, you can’t help but glance back at the house you’ve just left. The sight that greets you stops you in your tracks – Joel is leaning against his own open door frame, arms crossed, looking pensive as he watches you walk home.

Suddenly it hits you, your tired mind finally recalling the reason for all of the deja vu, and your spine stiffens as you inhale quickly in surprise. You almost call out to ask Joel if he remembers. He has to, right? It’s basically what got you together Before and the similarities are almost too much for you to believe. Your eyes move down and back up, looking around the porch, taking him in. All it took to break the tension the first time around and get you to actually start something together was a sick kid.

As you meet his eyes again you’re sure that you’re both remembering it. He can see your moment of realization, and after that moment in the kitchen, you know he can still read you. The expression on his face is complex but you see affection and regret, weighed down by all the memories you share. He tilts his head and smiles at you, a bit ruefully. You smile in response, hugging your arms around yourself.

All of your nerves and your worries about your upcoming conversation fall away – you still have enough in common with this man that you can have this conversation, without words, 20 feet apart. 20 years apart.

A moment ago you felt like the last few hours had scraped to the bottom of your emotional reserves and left you empty. But the smile you and Joel share sparks something inside you and you’re filled with a sweet, tentative anticipation that you barely know what to do with. It’s been years since you felt anything like it.

Tomorrow.

…

Austin, Spring 2001

You were setting your coffee down on your desk, mentally starting your to-do list, when you were surprised by a knock at your front door.

A peek through your curtains revealed your neighbor, Joel Miller, pacing agitatedly on your front porch.

Ever since you met on the day you moved in almost six months ago Joel had been nothing but welcoming. And from the moment you met his eyes that day you knew you were in trouble.

In some ways, you were typical, friendly neighbors. You saw the Millers almost every day, if only to wave at each other from your driveways on busy mornings. You’d been over to babysit Sarah for a short afternoon or evening a few times. They even had you over for a welcome-to-town dinner early on and you’d traded dinner at each other’s homes about once a month after that.

But what was going to get you in trouble was Joel the Handyman. He did end up fixing some of your bookshelves after the movers broke them – stop apologizing, darlin’, I told you I’m happy to help – which led to him fixing more and more things around your house. Every time he came over to fix something he would spot another creaky cabinet door or leaky faucet or crooked light fixture and promise to come back another day to take care of it. You’d swear he came over to fix something every week. At this point you were surprised there was anything left to fix.

You always sat nearby while he worked and the two of you talked about anything and everything – whatever funny thing your students had done that week, how Sarah was doing (with school and with soccer and with everything else), Joel’s frustrations at work, Tommy’s latest escapades. Sometimes it felt like Joel knew more about you and your day-to-day life than anyone, since your friendships at work were still new and you’d moved far away from everyone who knew you at home when you took this job. You always ended up talking for much longer than it took Joel to finish whatever task he’d had in mind, usually sitting together on your back porch or at your kitchen table until he absolutely had to go.

(His visits also gave you the opportunity to watch him work – to watch him flex his shoulders and arms and to admire the muscles in his back and thighs, (mostly) unnoticed. You’d feel bad about it if you hadn’t caught him with his gaze locked on your legs in your house shorts more than once. And then there was the time he’d come over to fix the ceiling fan – he’d climbed a ladder in your living room while you stood nearby to hand him his tools. His chest had been only a foot or so away from your face and when he’d raised his arms his t-shirt had lifted far, far above his jeans. You’d lost track of the conversation, eyes locked on the dark trail of hair that disappeared into the band of his exposed briefs. You’d vaguely thanked whatever deity might be out there that he had forgotten to wear a belt that day. As he stood on his toes and shifted his hips his jeans had slipped a little lower, showing you just a hint of an outline of something you had to stop yourself from picturing. You’d gone quiet, distracted and far away until he coughed lightly and your eyes shot back up to his face.

“Still with me, darlin?” He’d smirked at you, knowingly, but had gotten right back to work after, continuing the conversation like nothing had happened.)

It felt like you were always catching each other trading looks. The flirtation you’d started that day next to the moving truck hadn’t turned into anything more, but it also hadn’t faded into anything less.

Pacing on your porch that morning, Joel looked as handsome as always, but he was clearly distressed. His normally only somewhat unruly curly hair stood on end as if he’d been tugging at it.

“Morning Joel, something I can do for you?” you asked as you swung the door open and invited him in. Despite how frequently he’d been in your home to fix things it was still a surprise to see him before 8:00 AM on a Tuesday.

“I’m sorry to bother you, darlin’, but I’m in a bit of a bind. Are you working from home today?” Joel asked as he stepped inside.

“Yes, is everything alright?” It was clear that Joel was trying to be polite but something was making him more anxious than you’d ever seen him. He was alternately twisting his hands together or running his hands through his hair as he shifted his weight.

“It’s Sarah. She—“

“Oh no, what happened?”

“She’s just sick, so she can’t go to school but Tommy can’t be here today and I have to go to a job site for a couple of hours. I managed to reschedule some meetings but not everything. Could you possibly come work over at mine for a bit, keep an eye on her? She’ll probably sleep the whole time, you know, but I just don’t want her to be alone, she’s not old enough yet–”

“Joel, of course, I’d be happy to,” you cut him off, trying to reassure him with a smile. “Take your time, I’ve just got a day of grading and reading planned. I can be there for her if she needs me.”

The look of sheer relief that broke across Joel’s face surprised you as he leaned forward, grabbing your shoulders and resting his forehead against yours. Your breath caught in your throat.

“Oh thank you so much, darlin’. I swear I’ll call as soon as I’m on my way back. Do you need help grabbing anything?”

As he stepped back Joel raised his left hand and trailed his thumb across your cheek lightly, almost so light you couldn’t feel it, then brushed his fingertips down your neck. You felt your focus narrow to the point where he touched your face before he stepped away, putting more space between you. Your whole body shivered. This is not the time for that. You blinked a few times.

“Oh, um, no I’ve got it. I’ll pack up and be there in a minute.” Get it together.

…

About 10 minutes later you were raising your hand to knock at the Millers’ front door when Joel flung it open in front of you and invited you in.

“Sarah’s back asleep upstairs,” he said in a low voice, “but I woke her up when I got back to let her know you’re here. Feel free to set up wherever you’d like. You can check on her in about an hour – I wrote down what meds she’s had and when she can have them again over here on the counter. I’ll call you in a couple of hours. But call me if you need anything at all, ok? And if she gets worse. And you know where everything is, I know–“

“Joel. Don’t worry, we got this.” You smiled and reached out to squeeze his upper arm, trying to reassure him.

“I know you do, I know, it’s just—“ he looked worriedly up the stairs before he sighed, shoulders dropping a little, and quickly rubbing his hands over his face. He started to turn towards the door.

“I know, Joel. It’s Sarah. But I got this, ok? I’m here for you.”

Joel paused, midway through his turn towards the door, and looked back at you. He tilted his head as he considered you, an unreadable expression on his face.

“I know, darlin’. You always are.” He said, almost too quietly for you to hear. “I’ll —“

“You’ll call me, I know. Now get out of here, Joel Miller.” You pointed playfully at the door. Joel cracked the first weak smile you’d seen on him all morning, nodded his head, and left.

…

You’d been working your way through your students’ papers for about 45 minutes when there was some movement upstairs. You quickly set everything down on the couch and moved towards the stairs. “Sarah? Are you awake, sweetheart?” You heard a quiet response but couldn’t quite make it out, so you headed up the stairs to check on her.

You found Sarah sitting on her bed, looking a bit woozy and still mostly asleep. “Hi. I have to pee but I’m kinda dizzy.” Her voice was soft and scratchy and she sounded congested.

“Let me help you. I’ll get you some water after, alright? And you can have more medicine and get back to sleep until lunch.” Sarah nodded sleepily and leaned on you as you moved towards the bathroom together.

“This is kinda embarrassing,” she said softly, and you laughed.

“More embarrassing than the Great Tampon Panic of 2000?” You nudged her softly with your elbow and she laughed, and then coughed.

“Don’t make me laugh! No, nothing can beat the way dad lost it that day.”

You smiled, knowing you were probably both remembering Joel’s panicked sprint to your house over the summer when Sarah got her first period and the ensuing chaos. You had been living next door for about a month and you were all more comfortable around each other after that.

After a successful, if slow, bathroom trip, you got Sarah another dose of her medicine and tucked her back into bed. “I’ll be right downstairs, ok? I’ll check on you again soon.” You ran your hand lightly over her forehead and hair to soothe her, but also to see if she was warm. She didn’t feel hot under your hand. Sarah nodded and was soon asleep once again.

…

Joel didn’t manage to call until about two hours later.

“I’m so sorry, darlin’, I wanted to call an hour ago but I got caught up. How’s my girl?”

“She’s alright. We had a short bathroom break and another round of cold meds and she’s asleep again. I updated your note.”

Joel sighed, sounding more tired than you’d ever heard him. “I'm hoping to leave in the next half hour, so I’ll see you soon, alright?”

“We’ll be here.”

…

Much later, around dusk, you were finishing up a stack of assignments when you heard a key in the front door. You set everything aside and turned to see Joel quietly shutting the door behind him.

“Welcome back.”

“Hey, darlin’, how’s she doing?” he asked, setting his keys on the table by the door and stopping to remove his boots.

“She’s been asleep since she had some toast around lunch time. I peeked in there about 15 minutes ago but she was still out.”

He sighed, and looked towards the stairs, brow furrowed and clearly worried. “I was hoping she’d sleep it off.”

“She could still be doing that. When I did talk to her earlier she was groggy but still herself – she told me not to make her laugh because it made her cough.” You smiled a little. “And she didn’t have a fever when I checked a little while ago.”

Joel nodded and turned back to look at you. “Even when she feels terrible she’s still a force of nature. I can’t thank you enough, darlin’. I know it was a lot, and it took me longer than I hoped, but–“

“Joel, it was fine.” You cut him off. “It wasn’t a lot, it wasn’t even that long at all, and I did just what I would have done anyway.” You tilted your head towards your stack of graded papers on the couch. Joel turned fully towards you, hands on his hips, and tilted his head while he considered you. The unreadable face was back.

“You look mighty comfortable over there.”

“Oh sorry, let me clean up—“

“No, darlin’, that’s not what I meant. No need to rush out. It’s a good thing. You look good. Over there, I mean. Um.” He smiled at you, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, looking a bit sheepish. You knew what you wanted that to mean but you weren’t sure he meant it that way. Did you look good, or look good here, comfortable on his couch, in his home? You felt your face start to warm as you smiled at each other.

“Can I help with anything before I go?” You ducked your head a little and started shoving your papers into your bag.

“No, I’ve got it. I’d invite you to stay for dinner as thanks, but I don’t think anyone in this household will be much company today. Next week, ok? Come over for dinner, maybe Sunday? Give her some time to get better first.” He took a couple of steps towards you, watching as you packed up your things.

“You don’t have to thank me, Joel–“

“Come for dinner,” he interrupted you, catching your eye. “Please.”

You stood and found yourself only a foot or so away from him, which didn’t help you calm your reaction to him. “Ok, ok, you know I’d love to.” You smiled and Joel smiled in response. “I don’t need convincing.”

Looking satisfied, Joel turned and led the way to the door. You grabbed your bag and followed, noticing he was standing a little taller than he had been that morning.

You started to move past him towards the door, but before you could, Joel suddenly reached out and pulled you into a hug. You found yourself with your arms circling his waist as he placed one hand securely at your lower back and used the other to gently cup the back of your head. You pressed your face to his shoulder. So quietly you almost missed it, he whispered, “Thank you again, darlin’. I was still worried, of course, but I felt so much better knowing it was you here with my girl all day.”

You couldn’t help it – you sank into his arms a little, returning the hug tightly. “It’s never a problem, Joel. You know I love that girl.”

You felt more than heard a little hitch in his breath as he paused before slowly stepping out of the embrace. “Yeah, I reckon I do. We’ll see you Sunday, right? Let’s say 6.”

“I’ll be here.” You smiled, touched his forearm briefly, and headed out the door.

You felt his eyes on you the whole way to your front door, and glanced back as you dug out your keys to find him leaning against his own door frame, watching you. When he saw you turn he smiled a little and raised a hand to wave, finally ducking inside his own house only when you did the same. It felt like something had shifted. Something more was brewing between the two of you.

Sunday.

...

a/n: see you next Sunday for chapter 3! I decided not to split this or the next one half, so the next chapter has parts in Jackson and in Austin. Also, fun fact - this Austin section for chapter 2 was the first part of this fic I wrote, back in April.

Tag list:

@morgaussy @jay-zzle @bluetattoos

chapter 3 is posted!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #over again fic #my fic #x reader

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fics-n-stuff · 9 months

Text

Steve walked into the Munson trailer one day to find Eddie in the kitchen singing, lightly headbanging along to the accompanying instrumental that was playing in his head while he washed the dishes. This was not unusual. What was unusual was that Eddie was not singing in English.

Steve shut the trailer door slowly and quietly so as not to catch Eddie's attention, and slowly moved forward while listening to Eddie sing. He didn't want to interrupt yet.

A couple of minutes passed before Eddie turned and noticed Steve. He jumped, letting out a small yelp, which made Steve chuckle.

"Jesus, Harrington! How long have you been there?"

"A couple minutes."

"And you didn't think of saying anything?"

"I was trying to figure out what language you were singing in."

"Oh." Eddie grabbed a tea towel to wipe his hands on. "It was Danish."

"You speak Danish?" Steve asked in disbelief. Eddie nodded casually.

"Yeah, my mom was Danish." He shrugged. He dropped the towel and sauntered over to Steve, draping his arms over his shoulders before pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "Did I never tell you that?"

"No, you never told me that. You're Danish?"

"Yeah." Eddie laughed. "I know I don't really look it. You know, dark hair and dark eyes aren't really the expected viking features. Unfortunately I look more like my dad. But my hair was lighter when I was a kid."

"You speak Danish?" Steve's brain was still catching up with all this new information.

"En lille smule." Eddie grinned. "Min mor talte dansk tilt mig."¹

"I don't know what you said but that was really hot." Steve muttered. Eddie laughed. "So what was that song you were singing?"

"Me and my cousin in Denmark write letters to each other. He sent me a tape with some music he thought I'd like and one of the songs got stuck in my head."

"Will you teach me some Danish?"

"Selvfølgelig!"² Eddie's face lit up. "Nobody's ever cared that I was Danish before. A lot of people literally didn't even know that Denmark is a country."

"I think it's really cool. I wish my mom had taught me Italian, I only know the things my nonna always said, which is mostly swears and insults."

"Hey, that's useful stuff. That means you can shit talk people without them knowing what you said."

"Yeah but it would be nice to have a functioning knowledge of the language too." Steve shrugged.

"Det er ikke så fantastisk."³ Eddie said with a shake of his head, though his lips were quirked up in a smile. "There isn't really much point when nobody else understands."

"Except that being bilingual is hot." Steve smiled.

"Er det rigtigt?"⁴ Eddie exclaimed amusedly, grinning again. He leaned in to press another kiss to Steve's lips, longer and more tender. He pulled back and rested his forehead against Steve's, letting out a tiny contented sigh. "Jeg elsker dig."⁵

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

I just came back from visiting family in Denmark and I had the idea of Scandinavian Eddie so here's a teensy tiny ficlet. I was gonna make him Norwegian because Norway is more known for their metal music than Denmark, but I don't speak Norwegian so I felt uncomfortable writing any Nowegian sentences. I don't really speak Danish either but I could at least kinda know what I was writing, and I kept it pretty simple so almost all of it is stuff I know anyway. 💕

Translations:

¹"A little bit." "My mum spoke Danish to me."

²"Of course!"

³"It's not that great."

⁴"Is that right?"

⁵"I love you."

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things season four #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie headcanon #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson hc #steddie ficlet #danish eddie munson #italian steve harrington

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the-s1lly-corner · 6 months

Note

ok so hear me out. what about father!masky hearing that Toby is dating daughter!reader.

A teensy bit of NSFW would be fine, like hearing that Toby stole his precious daughter's V-card. (+ and how Toby ended up taking it but that's just a + if you're feeling generous.)

(MASKY AND READERS RELATIONSHIP IS COMPLETELY PLATONIC AND FAMILY-LIKE!!!!)

Father!Masky reacting to child!readers partner being Toby!

Was really debating on whether or not I wanted to answer this since personally I'm a little iffy on writing romantic stuff with toby but I think. Since its not the center piece (?) Of this request I'll let it slide this time

With that said I will say, I'm not sure if my take on the masky/toby dynamic is accurate to most peoples takes since I havent really. Seen much current fan stuff, havent really interacted with the fandom outside of fanart n stuff since 2015 so UHUH!!

Quick warning first portion of this is the admin rambling about their hcs about masky and toby before getting into the actual reader portion; they havent had the chance to talk about their creepypasta hcs in a LONG time 😭😭

Not touching the virginity thing, though sorry anon

Okay the authors note was getting too long but more on how I view the toby and masky dynamic given how I write both characters in my hc/au!

Toby does still try to piss off masky, i think. Since hes just generally an ass and there isnt much else for him to do..

You see I'm still trying to figure out how I wanna write masky and hoodie, since I do wish to honor their roots from MH and mesh together the source with the creepypasta fandoms take.. still trying to hit a balance.. might save that for another post, though! But I do wish to incorporate tim and brian into this as their own thing in my hc I'm just not sure how... anyways summary of what I was gonna say, before I deleted it; masky and hoodie arent around 100% of the time, only really when they're needed or called for. Hoodie is around more, though

Toby, on the other hand is around as a proxy 100% of the time considering. You know he krilled his shitty dad and set his neighborhood on fire

Basically there aren't many opportunities for these two to interact but when he does toby is probably shoving masky, probably trying to snag his mask, ect ect basically doing anything to find a way to entertain and stimulate himself, and that just so happens to include fucking with his fellow proxies

Masky, at least in my writing, is fairly stoic... or at least he keeps his emotions hard to read and every now and then he can be a little unpredictable. Call it a byproduct of being mentally worn down by slenderman in order to work with him, or something

Holds little to no reaction to Toby's antics, actually the only time theres anything dished back to him is when he tries to make a grab for the mask

VERY protective of his mask

Okay moving onto the actual request; regardless of how you end up being his kid.. whether it be found family or biologically.. he would try to be the very best dad he can be.. bonus points if you're a proxy as well, I think you two would train together

Call it a family business/j

I could joke about masky krilling for you, but.... considering that these are creepypasta characters... I dont think it would be a joke

Only saves that for if someone physically harms you though

Dating wise I dont think he would care..

Until he finds out who

Really?

That asshole?

When you tell him it's very hard to decipher his reaction.. hes just

Still

And the mask isnt helping at all

Watches toby like a hawk. Like if this were genuinely any other person I think masky would do some basic sleuthing to see what kind of person your partner is before backing off... but given that he has a personal history of toby being a nuisance, he's more on the fence

Now do I think he would forbid you from seeing him?

Honestly, I'm not entirely sure. I mean yeah sure, toby makes his job harder.. but has he really done anything that warrants that? Does he even have the right, even as your father?

You know that meme from monsters uni. Where sully is glaring down at mike while they're walking

That's basically masky and toby after he finds out

Not many thoughts here, I think

#creepypasta x reader #masky x reader #masky x you #masky imagine #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby x you #ticci toby imagine #creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta x you #creepypasta imagine

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youcouldmakealife · 9 months

Text

SOTM: Erin/Julius, grudge match

For the prompt: Julius' exit from the Oilers

Julius was never going to stay. Erin doesn’t really know how anyone could have expected otherwise. Sure, she knows the expectation, that if you’re a franchise saviour you stay with the franchise, give it your all, saw that play out with Bryce even though fans acted like he was team whipping boy instead of franchise saviour half the time.

But the thing is, the Oilers have been beyond saving for the entire time Julius has been there. There’s only so much one guy can do, no matter how good they are. And Julius is so good, and he tries so hard. Everything he can do, he has done, nobody could say otherwise, doesn’t slack off on the ice in any game situation, works to win the team games. But they don’t win, most games. They don’t win, because they’ve got a mismanaged team and what the old boys club might call a loser culture. Nobody’s expecting to win games, the players included, and they’re usually right.

Erin’s not like, saying that out loud any time soon, but whatever. It’s true. She likes some of the Oilers as people, has a game buddy in Farmer’s girlfriend, who is one of the funniest people she’s ever met. She likes the city okay, close enough to pop in on mom and dad but far enough they don’t really pop in on her, except for the occasional visit when the Canucks come to town, because Jared’s indisputably their favourite child. There’s nothing personal about Julius’ decision to move on, on his end or hers.

Well, mostly. Erin’s never understood how Deslauriers has kept his job so long, considering he hasn't made the Oilers any better, but they’re not worse, not that that’s saying much. Unfortunately he’s still in charge of the whole operation, and she’s a teensy bit biased against him due to the whole being raging homophobe who tried to destroy her brother’s life because he was gay thing.

Like, just a smidge. Giving the TV the middle finger every time they show his face level. Julius has been smart enough never to introduce them level. Erin’s the only one allowed to destroy her brother’s life, and she sure as shit would never do that because of Bryce, who’s like, the best thing about Jared. By far Jared’s best life decision, full stop, was somehow winning over Bryce Marcus despite his horrible personality.

Well, after adopting Julius. Erin’s pretty grateful for that one, to be honest.

The summer before Julius’ contract expires, he goes into contract talks, though he has zero intention of staying. The talk is basically ‘thanks, but no thanks'.

Erin has no clue why it takes so many meetings to get that across; maybe they’re being too polite about it, or the Oilers are being a little too obtuse, because ‘no thank you’ is three words, as are ‘please trade me’. But after those talks end Oilers management doesn’t say anything to the media except that ‘they’re working on something that works for both parties’, which must be difficult, considering Julius’ current ask is ‘no amount of money will make me stay’, which she’s pretty sure is hard to match.

Or like. Maybe there is enough money. Theoretically, there could be a magic number of money. Like, a mindboggling amount of money might do it. But they haven’t offered him it. They’ve offered him fair value, market rate, but the thing about market value is that the market’s going to offer him that too, and testing the market means he doesn’t have to play for Edmonton anymore.

But nobody gets it. Going into his final contract season, the media’s talking about how much it’ll take to re-sign him, how sweet a deal they’ll have to make it, and she almost wishes that someone would leak the fact he isn’t going to stay so that fans would feel a little less betrayed down the line. But apparently the Oilers front office is a tight ship, or they’re still firmly in denial, hoping Julius is going to change his mind.

Erin’s never seen Julius change his mind on anything big. Or even little. He hates watermelon. He’s never actually tried watermelon, but he’s decided he hates it, so obviously trying it would be silly. This is the person they’re expecting to change his mind. The person Erin has debated force feeding watermelon, because he thinks it tastes like watermelon flavour and nothing tastes like watermelon flavour, she doesn’t know what the fuck watermelon flavour tastes like, but it is not watermelon.

Anyway, he doesn’t change his mind. Shockingly.

A week before the trade deadline Erin walks in the door to find Julius sitting at the dining room table in the half dark of twilight, chin on his fist. He looks like a stock photo: ‘sad man brooding’ or ‘gloomy Finn’ or something, so defeated that Erin doesn’t have the heart to give him shit. Well, almost. She wouldn’t want him to get a big head or anything.

“Pretending you’re the protagonist in a sad indie movie, huh?” Erin asks.

“I don’t know that one, protagonist,” Julius says, then, when she turns the overhead light on, “Ow!”

“Main character syndrome,” Erin says, as Julius squints at her, looking betrayed. He’s not a vampire — he’ll survive a little light.

“Is that what you said Jared has?” Julius asks, and Erin laughs. She can’t even remember saying that, though it must have been years ago. Years ago Erin was right, though.

“Probably,” Erin says, leaning on the table so Julius is forced to look at her instead of into the abyss or whatever. “What’s up?”

“They’re going to boo me for the rest of my career,” Julius says.

“Flames fans don’t even boo Bryce anymore,” Erin says. “Rest of your career’s a stretch.”

“That isn’t true,” Julius says.

“Okay, they don’t boo like, every time he has the puck,” Erin says. That’s basically the same, right? He has to earn the boos by scoring, or assisting, or holding onto the puck a little too long, or — anyway, they boo a whole lot less than they did initially, which is her point. People have short memories, and, more importantly, they’re lazy. Hating someone takes too much energy, long term. They’ll have found someone else to hate by then — some other poor, talented kid doing his best while he’s stuck on a team with no ambition.

“Have they traded you?” Erin asks.

“I think they’re about to,” Julius says.

“Like gut feeling or—“ Erin says.

“My agent told me to keep my phone close,” Julius says.

So probably actually about to, then. She knew it was coming, unless Deslauriers was stupid and stubborn enough to keep Julius until the end, let him walk for free. Which she wouldn’t put past the guy or anything, but still. It was coming.

“You’ve been waiting for this,” Erin says.

“I know,” Julius says.

“You want this,” she says. Getting traded at the deadline, people get a chance to get used to him in another uniform. If he stays until the end, the Oilers don’t get anything for him, but the Oilers fans are going to expect him to stay, hate him if he doesn't. Even more than they will this way, she means.

“I do,” Julius says. “You’ll come with me, right?”

“As long as it’s to a decent city, sure,” Erin says, and the offence on his face is exactly what he deserves for asking such a ridiculous fucking question in the first place.

#fic snippet #SOTM #julius halla #erin matheson

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soimcoga · 1 year

Text

Ice Cream Kitty

Everyone in the family call Ice Cream Kitty differently. Leo calls her Icy, Raph calls her ICK, Donnie calls her Cream, Mikey addresses her solely by her given name Ice Cream Kitty, Casey calls her Ice Cat and April calls her Kitty.

Ice Cream Kitty acts accordingly to how the family addresses her. She's clingy and soft with Leo, cool and brash with Raph, sophisticated and delicate with Donnie, essentially her little shit self with Mikey, and she shows off her mutant side with Casey and acts like a normal cat with April.

Ice Cream Kitty is very smart and learns things very quick. She can and she will call you a 'piss baby' if you lose to her in a board game, and the only reason she's allowed to is because Leo doesn't know about it.

(L: Raph, stop teaching Icy how to swear!

R: You do what you must.

L: Why is having a mutant cat swear considered a must?!)

Ice Cream Kitty can read and write in English, though nothing too complicated. She usually communicates by meowing, but if there's something she wants to convey very badly, she'll write it down for the family.

There was one time Ice Cream Kitty completely froze because the fridge was too old and there was no way to control the temperature in the freezer. The next day the Hamatos were breaking in the everything your home needs type of store, stealing a brand new fridge.

(They had to stage a car theft, so Kirby won't be convicted, because they used his party van to transport the fridge. It was a fun night)

Leo has been teaching Ice Cream Kitty Japanese, as per Mikey's request. She's a good student.

Raph's been teaching Ice Cream Kitty excessive violence and acceptance thereof

(D: Did... did Cream just try to stab Slash with an icicle...?

M: My baby's free to do what she wants.

R: Yeah, don't deny her freedom.

D: Aren't you and Slash friends???

R: Friends shank each other all the time.

D: THEY DO NOT???)

Donnie has created several pet carriers for her comfort, because you never know when you have to run. And no family gets left behind.

Mikey has stolen several portable fridges for her. Surprisingly, Leo never complained about it. Now every room in their lair has a place for Ice Cream Kitty to rest.

Ice Cream Kitty is violently protective of her family. If you hurt them once, intentionally or not, she hates you, she despises you, she will claw your heart out and present it to Donnie for research. Leatherhead's cool though. She has forgiven him for everything.

Slash though? That bitch gets it every time he visits.

(L: Do you not like Slash all that much, Icy?

I: mrow

L: Right, you're a good girl that don't hold grudges.

D: *whispering* So we're not telling him Cream tried to murder Slash in cold blood...?

M: *whispering back* Let him live his illusions)

Karai and Shinigami are on thin ice. She tolerates them, but she will fight them in a heartbeat.

Donnie created a system for her to traverse the lair mostly on her own, like a real cat. Mikey almost died, choking on his tears, when he came back home and had Ice Cream Kitty greet him.

(Donnie never told anyone that Ice Cream Kitty was the one to ask for that. Because she saw how lonely the kids were coming home to no one greeting them)

Casey is financially indebted to her.

(L: Are... are you playing actual poker... with Icy?

C: Shush Leo, I have a good hand!

L: Don't play on money with a cat?!)

Ice Cream Kitty loves being stroked/patted and makes sure every single member of the family snuggled her at least once a day. Ain't nobody gonna escape affection.

(They adore her just as much as she adores them)

Mikey is a teensy bit overprotective (borderline crazy) cat dad. Everyone lets him be.

(She's the best daughter to her dad)

#tmnt 2012 #thank you for coming to my talk #that's all i wanted to convey #you don't understand how much joy a cat made of ice cream brings me

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nightfang22 · 1 year

Text

Get Angry

As a special treat for my friend @p34ch-tr33 who always pulls out my best work! Enjoy!

TW:Angst,smut insinuation,alcohol,18+

A tear runs down my cheek as I blow out the last candle on the cake. 20 candles nearly completely melted, wax mixed with icing, I sat alone in the dark as I waited for him. He should've been here 5 hours ago. Kenny promised this year would be different. He promised. I scroll through my Snapchat just looking at people's stories and watching dog videos. I clicked on Stan's story expecting to see cute photos of Sparky or videos with Wendy. What I saw broke my heart. Stan's story was filled with nothing but videos of a party at Kenny's house. I could see Wendy and Bebe taking shots and Cartman and Heidi making out. Butters was hitting on some poor drunk girl in the corner and Kyle was playing video games. Craig and Tweek were watching Jimmy break dance on a cardboard box in the middle of the room. I choked back a hard sob stuck in my throat but ultimately I failed. Then I remembered what my father told me when I was little: Don't cry, get mad. And when you get mad, get even. I picked myself up and brushed myself off, tossing the ruined cake in the garbage before fixing my makeup. I grabbed my keys and sped off in my car to Kenny's house.

Ever since Kenny's dad got that oil rig job and is never home anymore, Kenny hasn't really been Kenny. We used to celebrate each other's birthdays together all the time when we were kids but he's missed the last couple of years. He always made it up to me in the end but this time he completely forgot and didn't invite me to his party! I'll show him. I pull into Kenny's driveway and get out of my car. I knock on the door but there's no answer. 'Maybe the music is too loud for them to hear anything else?' So I knock again but louder. Stan opens the door looking back over his shoulder laughing at something before turning his head to face me. His eyes widen in shock. "(Y/N), what are you doing here?" He has a glass in his hand that has a golden brown liquid in it. I relieve him of his glass and down it. 'Hm, Kenny's dad's Scotch from the fancy liquor cabinet.' "I just came to say hi to Kenny and to remind him of the date. You know, since he didn't invite me to his little shindig." I said through gritted teeth. Stan is just staring at me dumbfounded before saying, "What? Kenny told us you couldn't make it cause you were sick. Everyone was asking about you." I smile softly and hug him. That makes me feel a teensy bit better. "Thank you, Stan. Where's Kenny?" I ask, my voice now calm and soft. Stan steps aside to let me in and points over to his dad's recliner where Kenny is sat watching Kyle play Nintendo. I give Stan back the empty glass and march over to Kenny. I stand in front of him, blocking his view of Kyle's game. I see his eyes widen for but a moment before I kick him square in the junk. "KENNY MCCORMICK, YOU ARE THE WORST FRIEND AND BIGGEST ASSHOLE I'VE EVER MET AND THAT SAYS SOMETHING CONSIDERING WE'VE KNOWN CARTMAN OUR WHOLE GODDAMN LIVES!" I scream at him in front of everyone. He's not wearing his parka so I have a full view of his face and just how red his cheeks are from embarrassment. The music suddenly stops and the whole room falls silent as everyone has their eyes on us. "NOT ONLY DO YOU THROW A PARTY AND TELL EVERYONE I'M SICK BUT YOU FORGET MY GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING BIRTHDAY FOR THE THIRD YEAR IN A MOTHERFUCKING ROW, YOU PIECE OF ABSOLUTE DOGSHIT! I HOPE YOU GET TOSSED ONTO A PIKE YOU SON OF A BITCH! I DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU GUYS BUT I THINK THAT KENNY KABOBS SOUND PRETTY GODDAMN GOOD RIGHT ABOUT NOW!" And I kick him square in the junk one more time. Just for good measure, of course. "Okay everyone, let the party continue! It is my birthday, after all!" I slit my eyes in Kenny's direction when I say the word 'birthday'.

The music starts up again and everyone goes back to partying like nothing even happened. I walked into the kitchen to pour myself a heavy drink when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I roll my eyes sighing. Spinning around, I say "Kenny, I'm not sorry for kicking you in the balls and I'm especially not sorry for crashing your party, either." But when I spin around I am not met with blonde hair and blue-green eyes. I am met with messy black hair peeking out of a cute blue hat. "I'm not sorry you did either of those things, too. He really deserved it." It's Craig. I look up at his rather tall frame. Craig has towered over me since we were little. "Oh, sorry. I thought you were Kenny." He fakes being wounded in the chest. "Ouch, (Y/N). That bad, huh?" I could only laugh at his cheesy joke and brush his arm as I reply, "Nah, you're way cuter." His cheeks turn bright pink and that's when I notice Kenny watching out of the corner of my eye. I wrap my arms around Craig's neck and pull him in. We start to makeout and he has me pressed up against the wall. I break away only to pull him up the staircase to Kenny's bedroom. I open the door as Craig takes off his shirt. I turn to him as he pins me to the door, shutting it. He pulls my shirt off and unclasps my bra. He moves me to the bed and takes his hat off, placing it gently atop my head. Removing my skirt and undergarments, Craig kisses his way up my legs before he has me pinned beneath him. I never thought that my first time would be like this. As a revenge tactic with someone I didn't love. Especially not with Craig Tucker. He's leaning down to kiss me again when the door slams wide open. Kenny bursts through the door and pulls Craig off of me by the back of his head, slamming him into the wall. I jump up to my elbows. It appears that Craig is rendered unconscious. He's still breathing at least. I can see his chest moving rhythmically. I stare at Kenny as his head turns to me, his breathing hot and heavy. I can see why. He has a raging boner in his jeans. He pulls off his shirt and crawls on top of me. We make very intense and intimate eye contact for a few silent moments. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I shouldn't have forgotten." I clear my throat. "Or lied to everyone about you being sick. Can you please forgive me?" Kenny gives me his best puppy eyes, the ones that always got me to do whatever he wanted when we were little and even still to this day. "Okay, fine. I'll forgive you." He smiled at me softly kissing me on the lips. "You weren't really about to give away what's mine to Craig, right?" I shake my head while giggling. He chuckles. "Good. Now let me give you your birthday gift." He strips his bottoms and I flip him over. "Let me." I whisper. I get real close to his face before I whisper, "Nice try, asshole." I sit back up and slap him across the face. "You could never have me no matter how bad you want me, McCormick." I spit in his face as I got up, Craig's hat still atop my head. I saunter over to the door taking a final turn to look at Kenny. "You'd just die on me anyways, you fucking flip phone." Those were the last words I ever spoke to Kenny McCormick as I left him laying there confused and sexually frustrated with his cock out in a room with an unconscious Craig.

Word Count:1,358

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honeyedmiller · 11 months

Text

Fate, After All | Joel Miller — Part Two

I do not own this gif. all credit to the original creator.

warnings: absolute tooth-rotting fluff, idiots (but not really idiots) in love, no-outbreak!Joel, little bit of smut, a teensy bit of angst if you squint, slight cursing, no use of y/n. 18+, minors dni.

word count: 3.9k

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"Jeez big brother, I haven't seen you this smitten over a woman in... actually, ever." Tommy smirks at Joel in a knowing manner, happy that his brother was finally letting himself give into love again.

Would Joel even call it that, though? Yeah. Hell, he'd been smitten with you since high school, but god, you were all he could think about since you came over to his house for dinner a few months ago, and all the amazing dates you two've been on in between then up until now.

You were undoubtedly making your way into the older Miller brother's heart; so much so that the "L word" was already wanting to fall off of his tongue when you were with him.

Even Sarah was happy for her dad. He made sure that she was okay with him dating, though, because she was his first priority and main concern, always. She scoffed and playfully rolled her eyes when her dad asked what she thought about him dating again. Her response was along the lines of 'Finally, Dad! You need to get out of the house and outta my hair,' to which Joel rolled his eyes back at her. Teenagers.

Joel fidgeted with the rolled-up sleeves of his navy blue button-up shirt, nerves overtaking his body at the moment. You were coming over for dinner for the first time with Tommy and Sarah at the house, possibly spending the night and staying for Sunday brunch. He prayed that everything went well and that Sarah liked you, because hell, he would've been crushed if she didn't.

Tommy hadn't seen you since high school, so he was looking forward to the little reunion.

"You really oughta relax, man. It'll be fine." Tommy's voice pulled Joel from his erratic thoughts once more. Joel threw his brother a tight-lipped smile, though it immediately disappeared when the doorbell rang indicating you'd made it to his house.

Joel walked to the door and quickly opened it, all fears and worries forgotten as his eyes laid themselves on your face. You smiled up at him brightly, the baby pink crochet top and light blue Levi's shorts you wore adorning your body, showing off your beautiful curves.

Oh, hell, you were going to be the death of Joel.

Your black leather purse strap was slung over your shoulder and you carried a bottle of wine in your hands. Joel smiled down at you, making your heart absolutely flutter.

"Hey darlin'. You look gorgeous." Joel pulls you in for a hug, kissing your forehead. You wrap your free arm around his torso, breathing in the delicious scent of him.

"So do you, cowboy." You pull apart from him and wink, causing him to chuckle. He steps aside to let you into the familiar home after taking the bottle of wine from you, the smell of herbs immediately wafting to your nose.

"Mm, smells good." You grin up at Joel as he takes your hand, gently pulling you into the direction of the kitchen.

You see the back of the younger Miller's stature, a grin immediately playing on your lips.

"Well if it isn't little Tommy Miller." You tease, and he immediately whirls around to face you.

"Doesn't count if I'm taller than you now, pipsqueak." He laughs, moving to you to give you a hug.

“How’ve you been?” You hold him at arm’s length after you two separated from the hug.

“Same ol’ same ol’, you know, always gettin’ myself into trouble.” He grins and Joel scoffs, nodding his head indubitably.

“He ain’t lyin’ about that.” Joel mutters, setting the bottle of wine on the island counter of the kitchen.

All three of you turned your heads to the sound of someone walking down the steps, and your heart started to beat faster. You were nervous to meet Joel’s daughter. You wanted her to like you. You knew her and Joel had an extremely tight bond, which was something you never wanted to overstep.

A green-eyed curly haired teenager appeared at the bottom of the steps, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

“Smells good in here.” She says, before letting out a big yawn. She must’ve just woken up from a nap.

“I was just about to wake you, babygirl. But now that you’re down here, I’d like you to meet someone.” Joel said nervously, grabbing your hand as Sarah approached you both. Tommy was leaning against the counter with an amused expression on his face, stifling a laugh at his brother’s nervousness.

“This is the woman I’ve been seein.’ Darlin’, this is my daughter, Sarah.” Joel introduces you two, and you give her a kind smile.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Sarah. I’ve heard so much about you.” You extend your arm, and Sarah takes it and yanks you into a hug. You gasp at the sudden movement, but immediately wrap your arms around her with a laugh.

“Finally, another woman around here! This house has way too much damn testosterone.” Sarah huffed, which made you laugh harder.

“Sarah, language.” Joel warned, and Sarah rolled her eyes playfully.

“It’s nice to finally meet the woman that has my dad all googly-eyed. Seriously, I haven’t seen him like this— I think, ever.” She laughs, and a blush forms on both yours and Joel’s cheeks.

“Quit spillin’ all my secrets, would ya?” Joel crosses his arms over his chest, looking at his too-smart-for-her-own-good teenager.

With a small giggle, you whisper loudly to her, “Don’t worry, I feel the same way about your father.” You send a wink her way which causes her to brightly smile. Joel’s face turns crimson at your confession, and Tommy laughs at his brother’s reaction.

“C’mon you crazy kids, let’s eat.” Tommy ushers you and Sarah to sit at the table.

Dinner was nothing short of humorous and delightful. Sarah seemed to take a real liking to you, which relieved you and Joel greatly. You, Joel and Tommy all shared stories reminiscing high school, which kept Sarah entertained the whole time. She loved hearing about how her father was when he was a teen, especially from your point of view.

“Are you staying for Sunday brunch tomorrow?” Sarah asks you with a hopeful look on her face. You melted at the thought of her wanting you to stick around. It made you unbelievably happy.

“Of course! That is, if y’all will have me.” You look between the three of them, and before Joel can speak, Sarah nods furiously.

“Absolutely! Tell her, Dad.” Sarah nudges her father and he chuckles.

“‘Course, darlin’. We’d love that.” He reaches for your hand on the table and gives it a squeeze, a smile finding its way onto your lips. Words genuinely couldn’t describe how much you adored the Miller family.

After dinner, you helped wash the dishes and clean up even though Joel protested furiously.

“You’re a guest in my house, darlin’. Y’shouldn’t have to clean up around here.”

“Oh please Joel, it’s fine. You made a wonderful dinner for us. Least I can do is help clean up.”

“You’re an angel, y’know that?” He says, kissing your temple before grabbing the wet dish from your hand so he can dry it and put it back in its rightful spot. You shyly tuck your head down at his words and focus on washing the next dish.

Though you two weren’t an official couple, simple things like this made your heart swell. It was like playing house with Joel and secretly, you loved every bit of it. You didn’t want to get too far ahead of yourself, but you could see this becoming a daily thing— wedding band on your ring finger, music blasting in the kitchen as you cooked the Millers a nice homemade meal, and Joel wrapping his arms around your waist as he swayed you to the beat of the country love song that was playing.

You’ve known Joel for so long, and though you did lose touch for awhile, you couldn’t help but think at how the universe works in mysterious ways. Ways that brought you two back together. You believed that everything definitely happens for a reason, so this had to be a sign… right?

Joel waved his hand in front of your face to pull you away from your drifting thoughts.

He looked down at you with an amused smile on his face, "Everthin' alright there, sweetheart? Zoned out for a minute, there."

"All good, Miller." You hand him the last dish that needed to be dried and turned off the sink faucet, turning around to lean against the counter.

"Do you think Sarah really likes me?" You gnaw on your bottom lip nervously, crossing your arms over your chest. Joel noticed that movement gave your cleavage a little more oomph, causing him to swallow thickly. He met your eyes once again and smiled softly at you, cupping your cheek with his large hand.

"Oh, I don't think, darlin', I know she does. Haven't seen her that excited around anyone besides her friends in a long time." His reassurance floods your body with ease, and you nod.

"I'm glad. I just want her to feel comfortable around me, you know?"

He nods his head and leans in to kiss you, but you were both interrupted by Tommy padding into the kitchen to get some popcorn.

"Great timing, Tommy." Joel shoots his brother a look, and Tommy holds his hands up defensively.

"Sorry, brother, just gettin' some popcorn for the movie we're gonna watch. You joinin' us?" Tommy's eyes avert from Joel's to yours, then back to Joel's.

"C'mon darlin', let's go watch a movie."

It was way past midnight when the movie ended. Sarah was knocked out on the couch and Tommy had left to meet up with some friends. Joel got your overnight bag from your car for you, ushering you upstairs and into his room after he locked the front door.

He carried Sarah up to her room and tucked her in before entering his room. You'd already changed into your pajamas, which was nothing but a tiny cami and some sleep shorts. Joel internally groaned at the sight of you in his bedroom, wearing nothing but skimpy sleepwear.

"I, uh, only sleep in my boxers. Is that okay with you?" Joel asks as he shuts the door to his room. You nod sheepishly, finding it sweet that he made sure you were comfortable even though it was his home.

Right now, you felt like a teenager in a boy's room for the first time. Nerves overtook your entire being once more as Joel shuffled to the other side of his room, discarding all of his clothes except for said boxers. His tan skin glowed in the dim yellow light of his bedside lamp, and it was nearly impossible not to stare.

The veins in his strong arms were prominent, especially as he unintentionally flexed with every move he made. His stomach was on the huskier side, but still strong, and his thighs were deliciously thick.

What a man.

You didn't want to be clocked as a total creep, so you didn't even dare look down to where his manhood was. You swallowed thickly and averted your eyes, meeting his gaze.

"See somethin' y'like, sweetheart?" A smirk easily found its way onto Joel's plush lips, causing your face to go red, but, you decided to play along.

"Actually, I do." You smile sweetly and walk past him, going into his bathroom to brush your teeth. He trails after you, his hands resting on your hips.

"Yeah? I do too." He whispers, sending shivers down your spine. His fingers lightly trace down your sides as his lips find home on your neck, kissing the soft flesh a few times before wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder. He lets go of you to brush his own teeth, his mind racing at how intimate this really feels.

Your eyes meet his through the big mirror, and he smiles at how you have toothpaste coming out of the corners of your mouth as you finish brushing your teeth. You rinse your mouth and wipe the sides, turning to face him again.

"High school me would've been freaking out that I'm in Joel Miller's room, y'know." He finishes rinsing his mouth as well, tongue poking out to get the extra toothpaste off of the corner of his mouth.

"And what about adult you?"

"Adult me is so fuckin' glad that my blind date didn't show up." Your voice is merely a whisper, eyes looking up into his own. His dark gaze trails over your face, stopping at your lips for a brief second before taking your hand, leading you to his bed. He climbs into the right side of his bed, patting the spot next to him.

You quietly laugh as you slide in next to him, covering your body with the comforter. He turns off his bedside lamp, the room immediately going completely dark. The only light that was emitted was from the crescent moon up in the sky, shining through his blinds.

The scent of Joel engulfed you as you snuggled up under his comforter, staring up at his ceiling fan.

Joel turns on his side to face you and props his head up with his hand, "Y'know, it's really distracting when a sexy woman as yourself is laying in bed beside me wearin’ nothin’ but thin, measly sleepwear." Joel's minty breath fanned your face, and you bit your lip to keep yourself from smiling like an idiot.

"Oh I'm sorry, would you rather I sleep with some sweats n’ a turtleneck?" You retort sarcastically, making Joel laugh.

"Not at all, baby. Matter of fact, I'd prefer if these items were off." Joel's warm fingers teased your arm, tracing over it lightly until they met one strap of your cami, tugging it down slowly.

You sucked in a breath and closed your eyes. His touch was nothing less of hypnotic, and it made you extremely needy for him.

"Tell me to stop, and I will." Joel's voice held seriousness and sincerity, and you immediately placed your hand over his to help him guide it down your torso.

"Keep going." Was all you said, and Joel didn't hesitate any longer. His hand found its way down the front of your shorts, pleasantly surprised at the fact that you weren't wearing underwear.

His skillful fingers easily found your swollen nub, rubbing small, tight circles over it a few times before trailing down the rest of your slick heat.

“Goddamn sweetheart, you’re fuckin’ soaked.” Joel mewls, leaning down to capture your soft lips into his. He moans into the kiss, fingers working themselves against your core as he teasingly traced around your entrance.

It’d been way too long since you’d been intimate with any man, so the excitement your body was exerting was nothing short of expected.

“Fuck, Joel. Please.”

Hearing you beg nearly made Joel’s head spin. His name rolled off your tongue like honey, and fuck was he addicted to it.

His middle and ring finger easily found home in you, pumping at a languid pace. The sounds coming from you were deliciously sinful, as all that could be heard were your lips smacking with Joel’s and your wetness against his fingers.

“So ready for me, angel.” He murmured against your lips, trailing his own down your cheek and to your neck. He nipped and licked a spot repeatedly until he was satisfied, knowing it might leave a mark there by day’s start.

“Joel.” You whimpered, your hips grinding into his hand at this point. The friction was heavenly and his fingers simply reached spots yours never could. You wanted more. You wanted to feel him stretch you and fill you up in the most delectable way, but you had to pull yourself back to reality— you weren’t even his girlfriend. You didn’t want to rush into anything, and you especially didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

You’d voice your concerns to him later, because for now, you were enjoying the feeling of his fingers bringing you pure ecstasy. His thumb found your sensitive clit as he kept moving his fingers in and out of you at a nearly torturous pace, but the extra stimulation was enough to nearly send you over the edge.

Your moans were getting more prominent and your hips started bucking, and Joel wore a shit-eating grin on his lips. His tongue darted between his lips to wet them, and looked down at you in a daze with his dark eyes. The way your brows furrowed together and your jaw was slack had his cock aching. He wanted to take it slow with you, though, and just wanted to pleasure you tonight—even if it was just with his fingers.

“That’s it, baby, let go. Let go f’me.” His voice was husky and you gripped his comforter for dear life, gritting your teeth as you found your release. You tried your damndest to be quiet because for god’s sake, you didn’t need to wake anyone with your lewd sounds.

You quickly turn your head toward him as you tried your best to bury your face into the pillow you were laying on, shuddering as you rode out your intense orgasm. If he could make you come undone like this with just his fingers, you couldn’t even begin to imagine what his cock could do.

“Fuck, Joel.” You’re breathless as your words are laced with a laugh, drawing a chuckle from him. He leans over and kisses your forehead, slowly withdrawing his fingers from you. He reaches up and brings the long digits to his mouth, eager to taste you. The scene before you made your aching core clench around nothing, wanting to whine at how hot he looked tasting you on his fingers.

“Mm. Just as sweet as I imagined,” He flashed you a cheeky grin as heat flooded your cheeks, drawing a noise that was a huff and laugh mixed into one from you.

“Next time, I’m gonna have you seein’ stars, baby. You can count on that.” Joel promised you, and fuck you couldn’t wait for that time to come around.

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed. You frowned a bit, because you’d been cuddling with Joel all while you slept so the loss of body heat and touch was a bit disappointing. Your heard the faint sound of chatter and laughter downstairs, which wiped away your grogginess rather quickly.

You decided to freshen up before you went downstairs, because for god’s sake, you were sure you were still a mess from last night. The feeling of Joel’s long, thick fingers deliciously moving in and out of you was imprinted in your brain.

A blush crept to your cheeks as you recounted all of the sweet, sinful things that easily rolled off of his tongue— things he would make sure you were the only one to hear.

You sighed as the familiar ache of need pooled into you once again, but you had to forget about it for now. You rummaged through your overnight bag to take out the pretty pink sundress you were going to wear and slipped it on after discarding your pajamas. You fixed your hair up into a low style and put on some mascara, and it was only then that you noticed how much you were glowing.

Maybe it was because you’d had your first orgasm that wasn’t brought on by your own self in years, or, maybe it was the fact that a beautiful man downstairs that you’ve known for over a decade was willing to give you the time of day and wanted you to stick around.

It might’ve sounded a little pathetic to be happy over the slightest thing, but with the history of the countless failed blind dates and your mother nagging you that you needed to find someone (which you really didn’t—you were completely fine on your own, just a little lonely), you finally had a good feeling about this one. Again, you didn’t want to be presumptuous and get ahead of yourself, but Joel Miller definitely seemed like a keeper.

Some loud banter from downstairs snapped you from your thoughts, so you decided to see what was going on. You made your way downstairs and into the kitchen.

“Good mornin’ everyone.” You smiled at the three Millers standing around the island counter in the kitchen.

Sarah and Tommy both smiled at you and said good morning, but Joel was just gawking at you in pure awe. He was so distracted by how beautiful you looked in the sundress you wore, and how your features were still slightly adorned with sleep. Joel loved it. You were, in his eyes, the most gorgeous person he’d ever seen.

He was so enthralled with you that he started to crack an egg, putting the yolk into the sink instead of the bowl next to him and the egg shells in the bowl.

Sarah and Tommy were amused by the scene in front of them, both wanting to laugh at how Joel looked so damn lovestruck.

You couldn’t even give Joel shit for the whole egg thing because damn, he looked so good. Mouth-wateringly good. He looked like a tall glass of water with the way his hair was neatly combed, the way his muscles rippled in the green shirt he wore, and those glasses he looked so handsome in perched up on his nose. You couldn’t get enough of him.

Tommy cleared his throat, “Well if you two are done eye-fucking each other, I’d like to finish making brunch so we can eat.”

Sarah howled with laughter at her uncle’s snide remark, Joel glared at him, and a blush crept onto your cheeks.

“Tommy.” Joel scolded, rolling his eyes.

Tommy held his hands up in defense before standing next to Joel and looking down at the egg shells sitting inside the bowl.

“I also don’t like my eggs crunchy.” Tommy chided, his voice laced with pure humor.

Joel’s gaze moved down to the bowl, and he sighed in defeat.

“Shit.” He whispered, fishing the shells out with his fingers before tossing them into the trash.

“Anything I can help with?” You ask, taking a seat next to Sarah.

“Nuh uh, darlin’, you just relax.” Joel smiled at you, and the butterflies in your stomach erupted for the thousandth time.

“You look so pretty. I like your dress.” Sarah exclaimed as she turned to face you.

You gave her a beaming smile, “You look prettier. And thank you, maybe sometime you can come over to my place and borrow some clothes, if you’d like.” Her face immediately perked up at your offer.

Joel smiled down at the bowl of eggs he was whisking, loving the fact that you two were getting along so well. He knew he wanted, no, needed to make you his soon. You were the sunshine that all the Millers needed in their life. You were a breath of fresh air for Joel. You were sweet, caring, kind, and god were you a stunner.

Joel still thanks the heavens every day that the blind date your mother sent you on didn’t work out for you, because it led you to reunite with him.

He never really used to be a believer in fate—but with you, maybe it really was that after all.

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