#But hey y’all don’t wanna hear about that now do you

[inkandpaintleopard]

Many factors contributed to my day feeling weird and strangely unsettling, so I sketched these

I also think I’m gonna start putting my URL on most (digital) drawings. Not that it’s being stolen or anything (as far as I know), I just… want people to be able to find me. I don’t really mean because i want the credit, I mean more like… say it ends up on Pinterest or something, and a person sees it and thinks it’s cute and doesn’t yet know who I am. Maybe they want the full collection of my art. I’d want them to be able to check right away who I am, to be able to confirm that they enjoy the artist just as much as the art. And if they don’t for whatever reason, they can hopefully come to a much quicker acceptance of that, having already had all the information from day one.

Oh but on a much brighter note, @crossover-enthusiast I actually sketched John and Jack in the swap mod!

Kinda unfinished but whatever.

The idea I came up with for them is that instead of being bullies, they’re the kids who are always like “hey you’re not allowed to do that dummy” and are very rule oriented. Something I had in mind was that one episode of The Brady Bunch (I am not that old I swear-) where Bobby becomes the safety monitor of his class and it takes him like 2 seconds to become the entire school’s hated sheriff and the kid that nobody likes because he always stops the fun and lays down the law.

I also thought this would make their dynamic with the demon kids more interesting, since instead of both parties being mean, one is affably evil while the other is comically ‘those kids’

I was gonna include Robert and John together, since I figured Robert would actually be John’s uncle in this world, but then stuff happened and I didn’t (STARTED it tho)

Jack has curly hair because I said so

#Eh long story short I learned more about a certain person in the history of our lovely Skid/Pump fandom #Fun shipping stuff; yada yada #I was unnerved and just wanted to see some of my OWN Skid and Pump drawings so I made some #But hey y’all don’t wanna hear about that now do you #I just wanna hear about: #spooky month #skid and pump #friday night funkin #fnf #fnf mods #fnf starcatcher #fnf minus #fnf b side #fnf hellbeats #fnf smol monster #spooky month john #spooky month jack #fnf saturday night swappin

[pixystixx]

You Should Date!

I APOLOGIZE TO WHOEVER REQUESTED!! Something got completely screwed up when i went to post!! I'm also sorry for now posting for forevs xx I'm back now and I wrote some more :)

Resquest: Hi! Could you write a colby brock x chubby reader fic where they have crushes on each other but don't know it? Maybe they're doing a video where they react to comments but a lot of them are about the two of them and how they should date because they're either always flirting with each other or Colby is super protective of her. 

colbybrock x f!reader

Summary: You've been friends with Colby for quite awhile. You guys are at one of his parties, but he wants you to stay after and film a video. When you guys film the video all of the questions are about you two flirting and Colby being different towards you. (843 words)

Warnings: some dude being kinda gross to the reader

༻❦༺

You’ve been at Colby’s party for a while, but it’s beginning to die down now. People you don’t know very well are starting to leave his apartment. You’re sitting on a couch next to Colby and a couple of his friends.

“Well, I’m gonna head out! See you guys later,” a brunette girl calls out, getting off the couch.

“See you,” Colby replies with a tiny wave. It’s only 5 p.m., but you feel like it’s your time to leave.

“Hey, Colby,” you say, leaning closer to Colby, “I’m thinking of heading out.” Colby’s eyes immediately dart to meet yours, and he looks at you with his eyes wide. He plants his teeth on his lower lip softly—a gesture you’ve learned over years of knowing him, meaning he wants to say something. “What? You have that look on your face,” you ask.

“Can you stay?” Colby asks quietly, making sure no one else can hear him. His question makes your heart flutter in your chest. You cannot handle being alone with Colby right now, so you open your mouth to say no. You’re quickly cut off by Colby saying, “Y/N, please. I wanna film a video.”

You sigh, knowing Colby will get whatever he wants out of you. Your only soft spot is one for Colby. “Fine, but this party better be out of here soon,” you answer. Colby smirks slightly and gets up from the couch.

You sit quietly, hoping not to be disturbed, but another guy you don’t know sits on your right. He smells of cigarettes and cedar and has an edgy appearance. “Hey, pretty,” he says, winking at you. His presence makes you uncomfortable, so you flash him a small smile. He suddenly puts his hand on your thigh and squeezes.

“Can you not,” you growl, moving his hand off your thigh. He goes to put back on your thigh with a scowl on his face.

“Get off of her!” Colby yells, dropping a drink on the floor. Colby grabs the guy by his collar and pushes him towards the door. “Get out! And never talk to her or me again!” he shouts, his fists bunched at his sides.

The whole apartment goes silent, and everyone stares at Colby and you. You clear your throat and whisper, “Can you tell them to go home?” Colby’s angry expression quickly softens, and he nods.

“Sorry for the disturbance, guys. Party’s over,” Colby announces, pointing to the door. Everyone shuffles out, which leaves you two alone.

~

After calming down, you and Colby started filming a video answering the fan’s questions about you two. “Hey guys! I’m here with Y/N, and we’re answering some of y’all’s questions!” Colby says into the camera, “Okay, first one! What are your favorite movies?”

“Ooh! Mine’s definitely Scream. It’s just such a classic!” you exclaim, smiling widely. While you talk, Colby looks at you with the cutest face, a slight smirk, and soft eyes. You feel your cheeks go red and try to cover it by shyly running your tongue along your teeth.

“What was that one we watched last week?” Colby asks. He looks at you patiently while you think. “Wait, I remember! The Shining.” You nod, and Colby looks back at his phone. “Next one,” he mumbles, “Why are two always flirting?”

Your face turns red, and you nervously burst into laughter. “What? We do not!” you laugh. Colby chuckles a few times and fixes his hair.

“Yeah, totally,” Colby says quietly. You guys sit there in silence for a few beats. Colby inhales awkwardly and clears his throat. Suddenly, there’s an abnormal amount of tension between you two.

“Let me pick a question,” you mutter, taking his phone. His skin brushes against you softly, sending warm signals through your body. You pick a random question. “This one says.., this isn’t a question, but you should date,” you breathe out.

Colby laughs awkwardly and says, “All of you guys keep saying that!” He looks at you when he says the next part of his sentence, “Maybe we just need to test it sometime.” You giggle uncomfortably, and he frantically adds, “Just joking!”

You guys laugh, and you sigh before reading another question, “What happened at the party? Colby almost punched that dude. He’s so protective of Y/N.”

You have chosen to forget about the party, so the question annoys you. Despite your annoyance, you answer, “Some asshole laid hands on me.”

“Yeah, and I almost punched him. If anyone tries something with Y/N, they have it coming,” Colby explains. He leans over to hug you, but his chair tips over, and he falls onto the floor. The loud noise breaks the tension, and you burst out laughing, practically in tears.

“Oh my god, Colby, you dumbass!” you yell while laughing.

You guys finish the video, answering a bunch of other questions. You leave Colby’s house with a smile plastered to your face. Your crush on him is really getting worse day by day. You really wanna know if he likes you back. (Spoiler: he does.)

#sam and colby #colby brock x y/n #colby brock oneshot #colby brock x reader #colby brock #oneshot #x reader #colby brock x you #y/n

[toniiswrld]

Can you write something suggestive using that joke from tiktok where you call your boyfriend your husband to see how they react for anton please🙏🏼❤️

started writing this last night but fell asleep and everything i wrote got deleted 💔 but i hope you like it!

just some heavy making out, alludes to sex.

there was a new food place that just opened a few days ago, and you had been telling your boyfriend how good the food looked and you couldn’t wait to try it. you figured you two would go there together over the weekend, but he caught you by surprise when he came home with a bag of food in his hand. you jumped excitedly as you took the food out of his hands, rushing it into the kitchen while anton slips off his shoes and takes his jacket off.

“i wanna record our reactions,” you had a little idea brewing in your head as anton walked into the kitchen, seeing a couple trend on tiktok earlier that you thought was so cute. you weren’t going to tell him that though, so he just thought you were going to film a normal video for your friends to see.

you prop your phone up on the counter, opening up the bag to pull out the contents before pressing the record button once you see anton standing close behind you.

“hey y’all, me and my husband are going to be trying food from this new restaurant, and we’ll let you guys know what we think about it"

it rolled off your tongue so easily he almost missed it. almost. he tensed up behind you, eyes darting to the back of your head in confusion. did you just call him your husband? theres no way he was just hearing things. but then the confusion washes over and his chest heats up. you called him your husband. he wanted to tell you to say it again, because it sounded so good to hear you say that. but what if he brought it up and you didn’t say it again?

from then on he kept his hands around your waist and his head resting on your shoulder as you fed him and yourself, he was smiling from ear to ear between every bite.

“thank you for the food baby, i didn’t know you were going to pick this up for us” you hum as you chew on your food, your hand wrapping around one of antons arms that rested around your waist.

“well you’ve been wanting to try it, so i wanted to surprise you. anything for my wife, of course” he softly pinches the skin of your waist, and now it was your turn to freeze, not expecting him to play along.

“i like the way that sounds,” you giggle, face heating up as you turn your head to look at your boyfriend.

“yeah?” you can feel his words on your lips, and his tone was teasing and you could feel yourself getting hot and not just on your face.

“mhm, its not in writing yet, but we’re definitely married. locked in forever baby” you place a quick kiss on his lips, cheesing hard as his cheeks turn red. then he turns you around so you’re facing him properly, back pressed against the counter top while anton kept a hand on you while he kept him stable on the counter. he bends down to connect your lips to his, and you melt into him instantly. you move to cup his face in your hands, and you press your chest into him as you deepen the kiss.

his hand that was on your waist traveled lower, grabbing a fist full of your ass before groaning into your mouth. he pulls away, and you take his bottom lip between your teeth softly as he’s moving to get a look at you.

“since i’m your husband now, do we get a honeymoon?” he moves down from your lips to kiss down your jaw, leaving open mouthed kisses down your neck and making you whine. you don’t respond, you just grab your phone off the counter, turning off the long forgotten video and drag anton to the bedroom.

#riize smut #riize hard hours #anton smut #anton hard hours #riize x reader #riize headcanons #riize imagines #anton x reader #anton imagines #toniiswrld 💌

[toxicanonymity]

Joel fucks/fingers/dry humps/etc. reader under a blanket during movie night in Jackson. I don’t care what they do as long as Joel comes. I like thinking about Joel coming 😈

Movie night (in public)

850 | Joel x f!Reader

you're in luck, this has been on my mind. we can pick up after she gets him all horny before the movie in Jackson. masterlist

WARNINGS: 18+ HJ, sex, and cockwarming in public, mild dubcon, cum eating

--------------------------------------+++

You and Joel go home for a quickie before the outdoor movie night. He has you pinned on the couch with your hand down his pants when you hear a knock at the front door, then it unlocks. You scoot out from under Joel to sit upright while he buckles his belt and Tommy yells, "Y’all comin’?”

“Ehhh I dunno about tonight. This one’s tired,” Joel says and squeezes your knee affectionately. There’s a good reason he’s not standing up.

“Bring a blanket,” Tommy says. “Joel’s a good pillow, nice and soft.”

“Hey now,” Joel says. Tommy just stands there waiting. Joel sighs. “Alright, grab a blanket, let's go.”

You go get a quilt and a big blanket. When you come back down in a flowy dress, the look on Joel’s face says he knows exactly why. He goes to the bathroom before y'all leave and comes out without a belt.

You set up in the darkest corner of the lawn behind everyone else. Joel sits on the quilt wiith his knees bent and you get in between them, resting your head back on his chest with the blanket draped over both of you while people continue to arrive to the event. He wraps his arms around you, and scoots his hard-on into you. He gathers the skirt of your dress out of the way and strokes your inner thigh. When he reaches your outer lips he growls “bad girl” into your neck, although he's not surprised you skipped the panties. Two thick fingers drag along your dripping seam and his hardness swells into you.

He nibbles at your neck and his fingers circle your clit. He could get you off this way and no one would know, but what you really want is his cock. You want him to come in public. It turns you on so much to think about, and he’s never let you do it. It’s always him making you come while he stays totally composed and in control.

You reach back and wedge a hand between your bodies, palming him over his jeans. He breathes deeply and doesn’t stop you. You unbutton his jeans. Then you reach outside the blanket for his backpack and put it behind him like a pillow. “I’m tired, can I Iay on you?”

“Sure, baby.”

You get on your side in the crook of his arm with your head on his shoulder, your hand on his chest, and hook your leg over his closest leg. Then your hand drifts down under the blanket, unzips him, and reaches in to relieve his stiff, aching cock. "Tengo ganas," (I want it) you whisper as you stroke him. He clenches his jaw and looks conflicted.

"I don't think so, baby."

You slowly rotate yourself on top of him anyway. His hard cock is between his shirt and yours, below your belly button. "No one's watching," you whisper.

You move your dress and slowly get higher up on him, straddling him in a koala hug and you throb against him. He inhales sharply when his cock feels your dripping seam.

"Solamente la punta" (just the tip) you beg barely audibly as you drag yourself along his member.

"Kinda cold. Wanna sit still?"

You've done this before and know what he means. You can't pass up the chance to have him inside you.

You drag your wet pussy up his cock again then nestle it at your entrance. He lifts his hips into you and you begin to sink onto him, managing not to gasp at the delicious stretch. His big hands brace on your hips and help you down. He lifts his hips again, pulls you down, and you have to suppress a moan as he bottoms out.

He grunts ever so softly. "Don't move," he says.

You lie there with him inside you, resting your head in the crook of his neck, while he watches the movie. Your hips want to move, but you manage to stay still.

He occasionally twitches and barely moves his hips. You want to get him off and try to slide off him, but his hands still you and he says "where you goin'?" You stay.

When his twitching becomes more frequent, he finally lets you slide off his cock. You get back on your side, bring your leg over his, rest your head on his chest, and stroke him. You keep his cock as close to his body as possible to not make it obvious. It doesn't take long before he reaches down and lifts up his shirt. He takes a deep breath, then pulses in your hand. There's a barely audible grunt, but it's the quietest you've ever heard him.

He buries his mouth in the crown of your head as he finishes coming onto his lower belly and your fist, then his whole body relaxes. You lick his cum off your hand then use two fingers to gather as much of it as you can off his skin. You swallow that, too. He kisses you on the head and you actually do fall asleep as you watch the rest of the movie.

-

If you like this one I recommend Speakeasy and Picnic Table.

All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea. @evyiione

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #toxicanonymity ☠️ #in public #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #horny!joel

[dilfl0v3rss]

this just came to me because I was arguing with my man but..

what about reader who has a problem with calling people all types of bitches; finally meets her match and he show her who the bitch really is !

(this my first ask btw🌸)

hey boooo!! so glad you sent a requesttttt. since you didn’t say who you wanted me to write for i felt like it was the perfect time to pull this out. i now bring forth………the baldiessss!!!

calling them a b*tch

𝑜𝑛𝑦

the two of you were going back and forth. it seemed like every time you got excited to be somewhere or do something, here come ony hating ass telling you you’re not allowed.

“i really don’t care ma. if i say you not going then you not going, so take allat shit off, put on your pjs and go study. got an exam on monday and you tryna party.”

you rolled your eyes while sucking your teeth. he wasn’t even your boyfriend and he damn sure wasn’t your daddy so you seen no need to be listening to this man. continuing your journey to the door as ony watched you with a keen eye. “you not even my nigga. you just a nigga i like to fuck, so you can take your bitch ass on somewhere tryna be somebody daddy” with that you turned around to grab your shoes that were at the door, only getting to put one foot in before you were snatched up and put against the wall. “we gon see about that”

it only took ony about ten minutes to have you screaming and crying in the middle of your bed. legs held high in the air as you grabbed tightly on the arm connected to the hand around your neck.

“o-ohh my goddd why a-are you fucking me like thisss” your whines went in one ear and out of the other while ony kept his brutal pace on your bruised pussy. “you know damn well why i got you like this. you may get away wit that shit when talking to your little friends, but over here we don’t use that bitch word y’hear me?” he took advantage of your parted lips, giving you a sloppy kiss before letting his warm saliva trickle down your tongue. you eagerly swallowed him, the action bringing the both of you closer to the edge.

“i hear you daddy….i hear you”

𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑒

“and oneeeeee!! y’all not fuckin wit me mann!” connie yelled as he won another game of 2k. y’all were at ony’s house chilling. well no….CONNIE was at ony’s house chilling. you were there against your will, tired, and in dire need of some entertainment since your man and his “brothers” left you out completely. “i’m ready to go con” you mumbled for what felt like the a hundredth time tonight, but of course connie gave you the same old excuse.

“ten more minutes”

he didn’t even look away from the screen as he spoke. you rolled your eyes before getting up and walking to the dining room where you sat down and called your group chat. “what it do bitchesss!” your friend eboni yelled as she watched the rest of your friends begin to pop up in the call. “heyy” you said with as much energy as you could, but they could all tell you were as dry as ever. “what he do now?” your other friend erika said as she looked at the tired look on your face. you sighed, dropping your shoulders as you turned the camera around towards the back of the guys heads and back towards your face. “been on that game wit them for like two hours while i’m just sitting here”

mumbles of irritation could be heard throughout the call as your friends grew almost as upset as you. “you told him you wanna leave?” eboni asked. you gave her a “duhh” look before replying. you didn’t notice that connie finished his game, getting up as he let ony and eren play while he went to the kitchen for a snack. he was within arm’s reach of you before you started talking your shit. “like why the fuck would you bring me here if you was gon be up in your friend’s faces the whole time? if i did that to him he would be whining to me like a little bitch saying he wanna go home.”

his eyes widened in surprise as your words. anger quickly running through his veins as he snatched your phone from your hands and hung up on your friends. “bring your ass up stairs, now” you rolled your eyes at him, earning you a hard slap in your ass before he lightly pushed you upstairs and towards the bathroom. “i be whining like a little bitch? you don’t get your way and now you think it’s okay to call me out my name?” you looked up at him, arms crossed as you leaned on the sink. your attitude was still very much there so connie decided to stop with the talking. turning you around and bending you over the sink. “turn the water on. if i hear your voice over it ima really embarrass you aight? don’t test me.”

he left you no time to answer before burying two of his fingers deep into your pussy, stretching you out so good you had to quickly cover your mouth to keep from screaming. “unt uh mama, this ain’t nothing. i’m a bitch right? this should be light work for you” he taunted you, inked hand yanking yours off your mouth while his eyes dared you to make a sound. your release was coming quickly and connie knew it by the way your eyes rolled in the mirror. he took this as an opportunity to move quicker into you. his gaze never leaving your face as he watched you open your mouth to scream. thankfully it was quickly muffled by by his strong hand, while you shook and came all over his inked fingers, but you weren’t finish yet. your eyes widened in surprise as you felt connie’s fat tip prodding your entrance.

“we gon see which one of us is really a bitch in here. and you bet not run”

𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑛

as the girlfriend of one of the most popular ace’s in the country, there were things you had to go through that regular women didn’t. not a day went by where there wasn’t a crazy girl trying to throw themselves onto your man, regardless if you were there or not. that wasn’t really an issue to you though since it was bound to happen given his talent. the real issue was that aran’s peanut headed ass never really dealt with that behavior the way he should.

“oh my goddd arannnn!!! please please please can i get a picture wit youuuu.”

“your muscles are so much bigger in person”

“you’re so strong i wonder how your body looks under the jersey”

you were thrown to the side once again after a game, the girls basically shoving you out the way before snatching your boyfriends attention from you.

“f’course i could take a picture wit y’all. cmon everybody get in!” he said, letting the swarm of women stand around him as he flexed for the camera. you didn’t even wait to let him finish, walking right out of the gym and towards his car. it took over half an hour for this man to finally get to the car before he looked at you leaning on the passenger side door. “why you ain’t wait f’me? s’mad dark out here and you all alone.” he said, looking around at the almost empty parking lot before looking at you.

“you looked a little busy entertaining bitches fantasies and ian wanna interrupt” you spit before turning around to open your door. of course his fast ass locked it before you could even touch the handle, waiting patiently for you to turn back around before he spoke. “you mad at me for taking pictures?” his confusion made you scoff. was he playing or was he really that dumb? regardless you were over it. “knew your bitch ass wouldn’t get it. got so many different girls heads up your ass you don’t got time to think about your girlfriend” aran leaned down towards you face, putting his ear closer to your lips so he could “hear you better”

“my what?” you looked up at him, challenging him as you repeated yourself. “your bitch ass. cant hear or sum?” a small smirk made its way to his lips before he unlocked the car doors. “nah i just needed to make sure”

you didn’t even make it to the front seat before aran yanked your ass up and threw you in the back. crawling in right behind you before teaching you your lesson.

“there you go ma, keep ridin that dick” aran groaned as he watched your ass bounce repeatedly in front of him. legs burning as you gripped the center console for support. “i l-learned my lesson pa pleaseee” you whimpered as you felt his large hand land a heavy smack on your ass, the skin already hot and aching from the previous slaps. “nah…nah ion think you leaned shit. we have this conversation almost every other week. these lil girls out here don’t mean shit t’me. they can take as many pictures they want because at the end of the day who do i go home wit?”

you mindlessly kept bouncing on his dick, too fucked out to even respond properly. “y’go home wimme daddy” a smirk made its way to his face as he listened to your slurred speech. you were fucked dumb. “that’s right mama. daddy goes home wit you…daddy only ever gon go home wit you” you nodded along to his words, feeling your release on the tip of your tongue as he continued to speak. “now apologize t’me for being mean. you know how i feel about that bitch word”

aran quickly pulled your back to his sweaty chest, kissing up and down your neck as he quickly fucked into you from the bottom.

“m’sorryyyy. won’t happen againnn”

𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑘𝑎

“fuckkk. you always suck me so well mama” he groaned as he watched you work between his thighs. two hands stroking his shaft as you quickly moved your mouth all over his tip. there was spit all over your face and hands, but that only turned tanaka on even more. it’s been weeks since the two of you got to have sex since your boyfriend is always out and about being the best personal trainer he could be.

you looked up at his toned body in adoration as you began to suck him sloppier, slapping his pink tip on your tongue before taking him fully down your throat. *ring ring* the sound of his phone snatched him out of his lustfull trance. you were too busy hard at work so you didn’t notice, but when you glanced up at him the sight made your blood boil. this nigga was on the phone.

“hello?….yea f’course….nah that’s not a problem at all. would the gym by mall work for you?….aight coo, see you then”

you let go of his dick with a pop, giving him a confused look as you waited for him to explain what the fuck just happened. “client just called. said they wanted an extra work out” your jaw was on the floor. there was no way he was serious. “and you took it?” tanaka looked at you with a blank look, as if you should already know his answer. “duhh i took it. he’s been making good progress and ion wanna mess that up for him now.” you scoffed, standing up from the floor before walking towards the bathroom to clean yourself up. tanaka followed you, looking dumb as ever with his dick still out of his pants. “you not gon help me finish?”

you gave him a death stare before pushing past him and making your way to your side of the bed. “go have your fucking client suck it. since you running to his beck and call like you his bitch or sum” as soon as the words left your lips you felt a strong hand wrap around your throat. tanaka kept his voice steady, but by the grip he had on your neck you could tell he was pissed. “don’t say that shit again.” he said quietly, using his other inked hand to lift your chin up towards his face. tanaka leaned down, lips almost touching yours before he spoke again. “where you learn that at huh? ‘cause i know i never let you talk to me like that and i still don’t. you forgot where you at ma?”

he spoke lowly to you, making a shiver run down your spine as well as wetness rush through your panties. you didn’t say a word, pretty doe eyes looking up at him as you waited for his next move. “spread your legs f’me ‘kay?” you obeyed him without question. fear coursing through your veins as you watched your man angrily rip your panties in the middle. you eagerly waited for him to fuck you, little whines leaving your mouth as you watched tanaka tease your clit with his tip. “say you sorry first mama. ion play that disrespectful shit and you know that.”

“m’sorryyyy” you dragged your voice out to show extra remorse as you kept your legs wide for him to take you. a small smirk crept on tanaka’s face as he watched you listen to each of his commands without hesitation.

“just made you listen to my every word all for some forgiveness” he mumbled as he sunk half of his long dick into you.

“so who’s really the bitch?”

#aot x black reader #onyankopon x black reader #aot onyankopon #onyankopon x reader #aot #onyankopon x black!reader #aot smut #aot connie #connie springer #aot connie x black reader #connie springer x black!reader #connie springer smut #connie smut #connie springer x black reader #connie x black!reader #connie x black reader #aran x black reader #aran x black!reader #aran ojiro x black y/n #aran ojiro smut #haikyu smut #haikyu aran ojiro x black reader #haikyu aran ojiro x black!reader #tanaka x black reader #tanaka x black!reader #tanaka ryunosuke x black reader #tanaka ryunosuke x black!reader #tanaka x black y/n #tanaka ryunosuke x black y/n

[90ekz]

“WE AINT GOOD-GOOD, BUT WE STILL GOOD”

debrief: when your ex-boyfriend ony comes down with a cold, you clock into your nurse shift, as well as resolving some old feelings.

tags: black!fem!reader, sickfic but like.. not, use of the n word, make-ups and break-ups, you make ony nervoussss 🥹, implied eremin (i love them), pure fluff, healthy communication cs ik some of y’all be bashin niggas heads in

an: bringing in the new year with some fluff !! i love you guys, and may 2024 bring everything you desire in abundance <3

ex-boyfriend!ony who was so heartbroken when y’all split, but knew it was for the best. he didn’t wanna drag you down with all his mess, (even if you insisted over and over that you were okay) and you were busy trying to get your masters. even through this, close contact was kept, and y’all leaned on each other for support.

that’s why it was such a shock when connie and jean had let it slip that he’d been sick for 3 days. you sat on the notion, wondering why he didn’t come to you or even say anything, and waited for a call, but when none came after a few hours, you were dialing his number harshly into your phone and letting it ring with a scowl on your face.

“onyankopon.” you spit over the phone, hearing him sputter at the use of his full name. dull music played in the background, and you could swear you hear other voices, hushed.

“h-hey mama, what’s goin on?” ony refused to let his composure slip, all his boys were over and he had told them that he had stopped fuckin’ with you. they all opted to come over to chill (smoke) even while he was down with a real bad cold. he caved and took a few hits before deciding that his lungs weren’t strong enough right now, and passing the spliff to connie wordlessly.

“you got something you wanna tell me?” you sat patiently, giving him the opportunity to tell the truth before jumping to conclusions. maybe there was a reason for it, everything happens for a reason, right?

“uh…nah i been chillin—hold up.” your eyebrow jumped at his labored breathing mixed with the sound of him hushing someone in the background before pressing the phone back to his ear. “anyways. im good, nothing to tell you, im cool. you cool?” your suspicion grew at his constant throat clearing and groans.

“you a damn lie.” before he could even respond, you were hanging up the phone and two beep sounds rung in his head. he tried to call back twice before getting a notification that you’d left home and were on the pathway to his house. the drive was only about 10 minutes, and knowing you, you’d be here in 5.

“aw shit—all y’all gotta go.” ony stumbled to his feet, ushering connie, eren, armin, and jean out of their seated positions and towards the front door. “man i was just getting high, the fuck goin’ on?” eren mumbles lightly, placing his jacket around armin’s shoulders and finishing packing his bag.

“someone’s coming over, c’mon.”

“who bruh?”

“y/n nigga, i think she knows im sick. y’all gotta go, now.” the whole group erupts in protests of ‘i thought y’all were done’ and ‘don’t kick us out for that, man!’ but ony didn’t care. he hadn’t seen you in person for a while, and he still needed to cover his tracks. the whole group rolls their eyes, save for connie and jean, who looked like they’d seen a ghost.

“connie, jean, why y’all look like that? what did y’all do?”

“it was him!” jean points to connie, completely throwing him under the bus. connie almost protests until he sees the sour look on ony’s face, and they’re scattering out the door with ‘im sorry’s’ flaking from their lips, leaving armin and eren to snicker under their breath.

“you said you were done with her, why now?”

“as much as i would love to give you an in-depth synopsis on my relationship status, i really don’t have time for allat right now.”

eren rolls his eyes, his attitude shown clear on his face. he wasn’t the biggest fan of ony’s relationship with you, considering that he’s the one who has to hear all the bullshit between you two. armin intertwines his pinkies with eren, an easy soother to his irritation.

“if i have to hear about this shit later, i’ll kill you.”

with reluctance, the couple left—armin apologetically excusing eren’s rudeness—and ony was left to spray fabreeze for the weed smell, and splash cold water on his face to hopefully extinguish his up-ticking fever, just in time for your harsh knocks to come on the door.

ony opened it, albeit barely enough for you to see his flushed face. he was feeling real feverish now….

“you ain’t tell me you was coming over.”

“i don’t have to tell you. open this damn door and stop playin wit me.” ony gulps as he unlocks the chain on the door and sees you fully. all you had on was his hoodie that he was sure you said you were gonna give back, and some nike pro shorts that he couldn’t see. you held a bag of unknown contents in your hand. you eyed him up and down before stepping inside like you owned the place.

he loved when you did that shit, this man is down bad.

you twirled the string of his sweatpants between your freshly done nails, and ony swears his temperature went up 10 degrees. you had this look in your eye that was the epitome of concern and irritation having a fist fight.

“so when were you gonna tell me that you were sick?”

“i wasn’t. i didn’t want you to worry about it, but the opptastic duo just had let you know, i guess.” ony followed as you proceeded deeper in the house, but you paused as you entered the living room. your eyebrows furrowed and your nose crinkled.

“what’s that smell?”

ony gulped, just playing shrugging and playing dumb. the cloud of fabreeze hadn’t really covered the weed smell all the way, and he was sure that you were about to bust him for smoking while he was sick, and he really wasn’t tryna hear all that at the moment. he was ready to get in his bed (preferably with you in it..)

“do not play wit me, what is that japanese cherry blossom shit im smelling?” you threw your keys and bag down and paced around the living room, flipping over pillows and looking under couch cushions. ony protested, promising that he didn’t know what you were talking about, and thought to himself that you were just smelling yourself.

until you pulled an empty cart refill wrapper from beneath the cushion.

aw shit.

you looked at him like he was a dumbass—which he was—before watching him smack his teeth and snatch the wrapper from your hand begrudgingly. the words “CHERRY GLAZE” in bold lettering burned his eyes, before vaguely remembering that armin had switched out his liquid before he’d left.

ony teetered on the truth, but he knew you’d be pissed about him having his boys over when he was clearly sick, so he settled on a lil white lie.

“oh, that’s uh—that’s some of my old shit.”

“if i’m recalling correctly, aren’t you the one that said that you didn’t like smoking that ‘fruity shit’?” ony cleared his throat—in a way he only does when he lies—before just grunting in response.

“and even if you didn’t say that, you hate cherry flavored anything, so that begs the question… what bitch was smoking this shit on your couch?” you jabbed your freshly done pointer nail into his chest, feeling his breath stutter under your touch.

he was caught between a rock and a hard place, and figured he’d just tell you the truth, even if you’d get mad.

“basically, the boys came over and eren brought his lil boyfriend or whatever he is—”

“wait, eren’s gay?”

“apparently. anyways, his name is armpit… or was it arm and hammer… whatever sum like that, and he was smoking his cart and replaced the liquid on the couch and i guess the wrapper fell between the cushions. no bitches were over here, i swear.” ony holds his hands up in defense, reassuring you that he was telling the truth. you smiled, as you believed him regardless. you knew he didn’t roll like that anyway.

“bae, relax. i believe you, i was just tryna see you sweat. just sit down, i bought you some soup.” you smiled at him with all your teeth, and ony was sure that he fell in love all over again. he missed you more than words could explain, and he just wanted you to come home again.

he finally let himself relax and he slumped onto the couch, his headache hammering against the back of his eyes. you took a seat on the ottoman next to him, unpacking his favorite potato soup and crackers. you crush up the crackers in the soup and stir, just like he likes, and unscrew the cap of his blue fanta.

“i think—no, i’m already in love with you. i dont think i ever stopped.” ony mutters as you spoon feed him and he has the urge to cry. you were always so gentle and caring with him, and you’ve never stopped, regardless of what the relationship status was. that’s what he loved most about you—it didn’t matter what happened between you too, if he needed you, you were there.

he missed you so, so bad.

“stop talking with your mouth full, you’re gonna get soup on your new carpet.” you attempted to brush off his words, and the way that they were making your face heat up.

“fuck the carpet. i’ve never been so serious in my life, mama. i love you more than you know. ‘just want you to come back to me.”

you two broke up because you mutually needed space and time to yourselves. it was an agreement, yet neither of you committed to it for more than a week. before you knew it, you were back texting him good morning, as he was texting you good night. all you wanted was to be his girlfriend again, but you wanted to give him the space he needed.

you set the spoon and soup aside, watching the way ony’s deep brown eyes twinkle under the low light of the living room.

“ony, i want to give you your space, that’s the whole reason we broke up to begin with. you deserve that.”

“i had enough space. you not living here no more, not being up under me when i sleep, not kissing me when i wake up, only seeing you at parties, that’s space, and i’m real tired of it,” ony laces his fingers with yours, kissing the back of your knuckles as he used to do.

“i want you back. i want you back in my face all the time, i wanna wake up mad cause you took all the covers, but then it goes away when i see how cute you look all bundled up. i want my initials on your nails again, i want you. i need you, baby. come home to me, please—“

“okay, okay! that’s enough, you’re embarrassing me!” you hide your head in the crook of his neck, suddenly feeling bashful about the way he was relaying his apparent undying love to you. everything he does flusters you still. you don’t miss the way his hands grasp you even tighter than they used to, if that’s even possible.

“i just want you to promise me that i’m not hurting you.”

“you could never. my perfect girl would never.” ony places a kiss on the top of your head, making sure to hold you even tighter. you choose not to mention his sniffles at the current moment, and let yourself be lost in his love.

“i missed you too, ony.”

#ony the realest 🥹🥹🥹 #syno’s picks 💌 #aot x chubby reader #aot x you #aot fluff #aot #aot imagines #aot x black reader #aot x reader #onyankopon snk #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon x reader #aot onyankopon #ony x black reader #onyankapon #onyankopon fluff #aot oneshots #attack on titan #onyankopon smut #he’s so boyfriend coded #sighs and kicks my feet #eremin #kinda just snuck them in SAWRYYY 😛

[bonobun]

dom!sunghoon x fem!reader x taesan.

bestfriend’solderbrother!sunghoon

warnings: smut (MDNI), bestfriend!taesan, creampie, unprotected sex, usage of nicknames such as “slut” and “whore”, semi-clothed sex (?), dirty talk, exhibition (?), if i missed something pls lmk.

“w-we shouldn’t be doing this!” you said as sunghoon was thrusting so deep inside you that you weren’t capable of forming reasonable words.

“aw, darling, but you weren’t opposing to the idea of me fucking you earlier, or did you, hmm?” he said cockily, smirking as he fucked you even harder, listening to all the obscene sounds that were made by you and him.

•••

you didn’t know how you ended up in his bed knowing that your best friend taesan could walk up and see you guys in such position. but how did this even started?

taesan, your best friend, invited you to some netflix and chill, nothing new between you and him since you spent most of your time with him at his house. he has told you before that sunghoon was gonna be there but you didn’t care at all since you didn’t speak to him, just the normal hey’s or hi’s when you saw him passing by.

everything was going fine until taesan’s phone rang and he stood up, making you pause the movie that y’all were seeing.

“would you wait for me please, darling?” taesan said quickly, in which you only nodded. nicknames such as “darling” or “love” weren’t new between you and him, since you guys were so close and there wasn’t any uncomfortable moments.

you didn’t mind waiting for him to come back so you just started checking your phone to see what’s going on your social media. five or ten minutes passed by until you felt something heavy by your side, thinking it was taesan.

“oh hi you came bac-“ you were cut up until you saw who it really was. sunghoon.

“what was he doing here?” you asked yourself since it was kinda weird seeing him spending time with you or taesan, you thought he hated you kinda since he was never around, always with his friends or just locked up in his bedroom doing work.

“fancy seeing you here as well, y/n.” he replied ironically, looking at you and then at the tv.

“what are you doing here? did taesan invite you or something?” you asked, kinda annoyed since you didn’t wanna bother taesan if he ever saw you and sunghoon together, even though you weren’t doing something bad.

“i, i think i should leave right now, i don’t really wanna bother you or even taesan, if that’s fin-”.

“don’t. stay. why did taesan leave you here alone?” he asked, his eyes wandering looking up and down as if they were trying to read your face to find the answer.

“oh, he just left because he had an important call” you said, moving nervously your hands, playing with your fingers. it was the first conversation you ever had with sunghoon, and it kinda made you feel nervous.

“do you wanna go with me upstairs? it’s cold in here and you aren’t even wearing something that can warm you up. follow me, i’ll borrow you something warm.” he didn’t wait for you to reply and took you by the hand, making you walk fast going up in the stairs and entering his bedroom.

his bedroom was something you expected kinda, it was clean and everything was in order, sunghoon always looked like that type that has everything in place and now you’ve confirmed that theory.

but you were still kinda preoccupied about taesan, why was taking him so long to come back? was it more than a regular call or did he just leave and said that as an excuse?

“hey”. sunghoon said, waving to you as if you were in some kind of trance since you didn’t say anything for almost a minute. “is everything okay? you look so lost”

“oh, yeah, i was just thinking about taesan, i hope he’s okay…” you replied, almost in a whisper but he did hear you. he nodded, giving you a thumbs up for reassurance as an answer for what you just said.

“alright, you can take anything from here to wear, i don’t really mind at all.” he said lazily, lying down on his bed, waiting for you to take something from his closet.

“thank you.” you shyly said, looking at his clothes. getting closer to them, it all smelled like him. you didn’t mind, it was a good smell if you were being honest. giving him a tiny look for another check if it was okay for you to take something, you took the first thing you saw: some sweatpants and his big sweatshirt.

“you can change in here, i won’t look.” he said, took you by surprise as you didn’t expect him to say something like that. you simply just nodded and wished for the best.

taking off everything you had, leaving you in your panties, you kinda hoped he was looking at you, but he’s a gentleman, he wasn’t looking since you knew he might think it was disrespectful, but something inside of you kinda wished he did.

putting on his sweatshirt and sweatpants, you felt funny. everything looked big on you, especially the pants since they were falling almost from your legs.

“you look so cute, y/n.” sunghoon said, looking at you up and down, kinda in awe since you and him weren’t that close to be in this position.

“thank you, sunghoon, i’ll give this back to you before i leave.”

he palmed the bed, indicating that you can go and lie down beside him. you timidly, obeyed him, sitting next to him, in a weird but not uncomfortable silence.

fuck. looking at him, he was always so good looking, you always wondered if he ever had a girlfriend or have had any girls in his bedroom since you never really payed attention to him. taesan occupied most of your mind and thoughts, but you always had this little curiosity about his older brother.

you didn’t notice but you were getting closer and closer to him, and he didn’t mind at all this kind of closeness since he wasn’t moving away. feeling some big hands, he was giving some sweet caresses in your waist, as if he was asking for some kind of permission to shorten the distance.

his lips were so soft, you were really inexperienced since the only guy you’ve ever kissed was taesan, when you were two little kids and it was little peck. sunghoon was almost guiding you throughout all the kiss.

“it seems like you don’t know how to keep my rhythm, or do you?” he said, looking at you, blushing at such thing said. you wanted to hide your face, it was embarrassing for you.

“i’m sorry, i just-“. whining in embarrassment, he just laughed it off and kept kissing as if nothing happened.

the kisses were getting sloppier and messier, in one fast move, he sat you in his lap. moving your hips, feeling his rock hard cock poking your wet panties.

“let me help you get this off you, bunny” he said softly, taking off your -his- sweatpants in one quick move, leaving you in only his big shirt and your wet sticky panties.

placing one of his long fingers in your so sensitive area, made you moan lightly, gaining a smirk from him. moving aside your panties, two of his fingers were painfully rubbing between your folds, it was so good yet so hard to keep up since you just wanted to feel him.

“please, please!”

“please what, doll? use your words” he replied, looking at you. his eyes were so dark and lustful, almost impossible to maintain the eye contact.

“please, please! finger me please sunghoon!” you said. you couldn’t wait anymore.

his tongue tsked out loud, checking you out. he didn’t play hard to get, he inserted one of his fingers inside of you, making you moan out loud since it was kinda hurting you.

“doll, you’re so tight, i can’t even move my finger at all. let’s try to calm ourselves, yeah?” he said. kissing you softly on your cheeks and then on your lips. everything about him was so sweet it felt like a dream.

you calmed yourself down, and now everything felt even more good. his fingers had you moaning like a whore, gaining many groans from him. the sounds you were making were so so sweet to him, and the slick that was coming out of your pussy had him wishing that he could try it.

he took his fingers out of you, licking everything that was in them. everything was so obscene, almost out of some kind of porn video that you could have watched when you were alone in your room.

“let’s get you in all fours, will you?” he waited for you to get in position, while he was getting rid of him annoying pants and boxers. his dick was leaning precum and was so red on the tip, you wondered how was he gonna fit you?

“so obedient, my little bunny. now, let me prep you for my dick, or are you gonna be a brat and don’t let me?” his voice lower than ever, his big hands exploring every inch of your body and waist, almost too impossible for him to believe finally the girl of dreams is about to be fucked by him.

aligning his tip in your entrance, moving softly to not make you feel uncomfortable or even one tiny bit of pain. your mind was so muffled, sunghoon behind you, taesan could come in any moment and see you like this, what would he think of you?

your thoughts were swept as you felt this pain and such a delicious stretch. sunghoon went all in, whimpering and moaning at the feel. his cock was so big and thick it made you feel he was breaking you in two almost.

“w-we shouldn’t be doing this!” you said as sunghoon was thrusting so deep inside you that you weren’t capable of forming reasonable words.

“aw, darling, but you weren’t opposing to the idea of me fucking you earlier, or did you, hmm?” he said cockily, smirking as he fucked you even harder, listening to all the obscene sounds that were made by you and him.

it felt way too good, he was so right. ke keep thrusting harder and deeper, making your tits bounce at that. sunghoon was so out of his mind, just looking at such view in front of him.

taking you by the waist, making you put your back to his chest so you could be closer to him. his hands were hungrily touching everywhere, finally pecking one of your nipples, feeling that sting that felt way too good.

you heard some voices outside the room, recognizing taesan’s voice from miles away. panicking, you tried to keep your moans to yourself, which kinda failed.

“sunghoon? have you seen y/n?” taesan said, from the other side of the door, knocking.

“shut up, slut. or do you want him to hear you? what would he say if he ever saw you and heard you moan like a whore for cock, hm?” he whispered in your ear, noticing how you squeezed his cock at his words. “for sure, i knew you were into this”.

putting his hand on your mouth, he replied to his brother.

“no i haven’t” he went deeper once again “i think she left or something” one last thrust, and you felt all of his cum inside of you, making you moan so loud, regretting doing that.

“is y/n in there with you?” taesan sounded even more confused, as he opened the door.

he was mind blown, seeing you like that was something he never imagined and with his older brother… the atmosphere was so thick it was almost palpable.

“oh, what the fuck?” taesan almost screamed, looking down at his pants, where a growing erection was coming present.

#sunghoon #sunghoon smut #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #boynextdoor smut #taesan smut #taesan hard hours #sunghoon hard hours

[tojis-favorite]

Being Spoiled by Toji>>>

Throwing your head back into the bed you sigh as you put a pout on your glossy lips. “Y’all I miss my man!” Your friends all rolled their eyes as you been saying the same shit all day.

“No one wants to hear that shit bitch go tell Toji to come pick your ass up then.” She said looking into the mirror with her curling iron trying to create the body wave effect on her hair.

“I’m about to call him right now since you wanna call me a bitch, bitch!” You laughed while picking up your phone and going to FaceTime Toji.

The FaceTime ringtone rang as you waited for him to pick up which he did after the second ring. “Hey pretty, what’s up?” “Toji you should come pick me up. I miss you.” You explained while your friends laughed at the way you were being.

“ I can’t right now pretty girl I’m on my way about to hang and with Gojo and them” dramatically sighing you looked into your camera “Gojo and them don’t fuck you like I do so come pick me up please” A deep chuckle rang through your phone.

“You're right about that, I’ll pick you and your friends up that way you aren’t the only girl there.” “Thank you baby I’ll see you when you get here!” You said happily hanging up the phone and telling your friends to get ready.

“I’m ready to see Gojo’s fine ass.” One of your friends said as she looked around and in her bag for an outfit.

Not even twenty minutes later Toji was outside your friend's apartment blasting Homebody by Lil Durk (a/n I love this song!). Getting into the car Toji turns to you, putting his soft lips on yours in a kiss before giving you a bag.

“Thank you Toji.” You said as you took the steak bowl from qdoba out the bag along with a fork and started to eat it. A couple of minutes later you arrived at Gojo house and you all made your way inside seeing that Nanami, Geto, and Gojo were already there.

An hour later everyone was having a good time as you all were in the living room, laughing and watching whatever sports game that was playing on tv. You weren’t really paying attention though, what did have your attention was how great your boyfriend was looking.

He had a black shirt on that was kind of tight so you could see his muscles through it, paired with some gray jeans. He accessorized his outfit with a silver chain around his neck with some diamond earrings. Finishing the look off with his hair looking wet which made you wet.

“Toji can you take me to the bathroom please?” you asked him as you got up from his lap and held your hand out. Standing up he takes your hand and leads you upstairs to the closet bathroom standing by the door waiting for you to go in.

Opening the door you grab his hand pulling him into the bathroom and closing the door and locking it. Reaching under your dress you pull your panties off as you look into Toji eyes that are starting to get filled with lust.

Sitting on the counter you spread your legs as you started to rub your clit, the sound of your arousal spreading through the bathroom. “Toji fuck me please.” You begged looking at him as he held a smirk on his face.

“You are so fucking spoiled y/n I need to get you out of that shit.” He said while he started to unbuckle his pants pulling them down along with his boxers revealing his cock with a bead of pre-cum dripping on the side of it the vines poking out of it and the tip of his cock a light red color waiting to get inside of you.

Arching your back your eyes roll in the back of your head as he inches his cock inside of you, hearing Toji hiss at the contact before he started to pulling your dress down and attaching his mouth to your boob feeling his tongue flick against your nipple as he started to pick up his pace.

“Daddy, don’t go too fast, you know I can’t take it.” Toji lets go of your boob with a string of saliva connecting to him as he did. Wrapping his hand around your neck he brought his mouth to your ear. “You going to take all of daddy’s dick today I don’t give a fuck.” He finished off with burying himself inside you as he started to hit you with slow strokes making you feel all of him.

“Fuck Toji why are you doing this to me?” you cried as the pleasure felt to good while he laughed in your face. “Why am I doing this to you? You wanted to be fucked, right? That's what I’m doing to your spoiled ass” He taunted taking one of your hands and pressing it at the bottom of your abdomen so you could feel him come in and out of you.

“You feel that? What am I doing right now baby?” He asked but you were not in the right state of mind to answer any questions. Lightly slapping his hand across your face, Toji asked you the question again. “Fuck! Your fucking me daddy, your fucking me so good.” You exclaimed as you started to see white, your orgasm creeping up on you.

“Exactly so cum on my dick with your spoiled ass” All you could hear was the squelching of his cock in your pussy as you came hard with the dam in your lower abdomen breaking as your squirt all over Toji’s cock. “Fuck you are so nasty you squirted all over me with your sexy ass” Toji finished off cuming inside of you attaching his lips to yours as he sucked on your tounge saliva covering both of your mouths.

a/n did y’all like this? should I do more?

#toji imagine #toji thirst #toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro #toji zenin #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu kasien x reader #toji fushiguro smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji x you #toji x y/n #jjk x reader #black writers #jjk x y/n #fem reader #toji x black reader #toji x fem reader #toji x black fem reader #x black reader #toji fushiguro x black reader #toji fic #jjk smut #daddy toji #jujutsu toji #jujutsu kaisen x reader #manga #anime

[macfrog]

heart, body, soul cowboy like me chapter thirteen

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

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fine. Everything’s fine.”

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

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

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

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

“I’m good, Dad. Thanks.”

“Sure? Whatcha watchin’?”

“The Office.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel Miller. Joel fucking Miller.

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

Did you?

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

Sarah: wtf is going on ???

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

You: Wym?

Sarah: are u good??

You: Yeah lol. Why wouldn’t I be good

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

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

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

You: Yeah? What are they talking about?

Sarah: well now it’s just some andrew guy

Sarah: sounds like a loser

Sarah: we’re coming over for dinner tonight btw

You: Nice. See ya then

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

You: I’m good. Gonna go for a nap

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

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

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

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

Sarah: even my dad is worried about you

Yeah. Good one, Joel. Fuckin’ asshole.

----------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Two for two.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“LA.”

Joel’s eyebrows lift.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then there were two.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“LA, huh?”

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

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

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

“It’s not a concrete plan. Yet.”

“Yet,” he repeats.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He holds back a smile. “I had work.”

“Right,” you nod, “Andrew Curtis.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck it.

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

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

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

Joel flinches. Tightens the hold on his arms.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrug. “Then – show me.”

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

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

“…Lord, mighty me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I – yeah, sure. Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

Another pound of weight lifts from your shoulders.

----------

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

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

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

“LA,” you echo, staring at him.

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

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

Joel nods. “What’s that look like?”

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

“Mhm. Sounds like your thing.”

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

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

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

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

“But it would get me outta your hair.”

“I don’t want you outta my hair.”

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

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

“Then talk.”

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

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

“Was it ever okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“About you?”

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

“Easy.”

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

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

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

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

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

His head tilts. Beckons you to continue.

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

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

“I don’t want nobody else.”

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

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

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

Joel falls quiet. His brows knit together.

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

“Baby, it’s not as simple as –”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re good.”

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

So that’s why he brought you out here.

“A date?”

“Mhm. Never been on one, have we?”

“Never could.”

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

“You got moves?” you snicker.

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

“Alright, never say that to me again.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

“Coffee?”

He shrugs.

“I took you for a vanilla man.”

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

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

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

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

“Nuh-uh.”

“What?” you ask, spinning around.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smirk when he rests back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod. Uhuh.

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

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

He laughs again. Knocks your legs with his own.

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

“Wanna try mine?”

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

“’s good. Here.”

He holds out a spoonful.

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

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

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

“You don’t like it?”

“Why is it…bitter? Eugh.”

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

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

He shakes his head. “You enjoy.”

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

He places a kiss to your head when you do.

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

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

“I, uh…I don’t like to imagine.”

“It scare you?”

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

“Ha. You reckon he’d kill you?”

“Probably.”

“He couldn’t kill you. Wild bear.”

“Well, I reckon he might try.”

“I think he’d call the cops.”

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

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

Joel’s shoulders slowly stop moving.

“Is that all we’re doin’?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, I love you, too.”

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

Guess it is, right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No. Just you.

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

“Mhm. Take me home, cowboy.”

----------

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

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

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

You choke on a laugh. “That is…”

“That is what?”

“…so cheesy. You really do that?”

“Uhuh. C’mon.”

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

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

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

“Wow. I feel…honored.”

“You should.”

“Not even a proper kiss?”

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

“You don’t ask to come inside?”

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

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

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

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

You nod.

He starts to climb the steps.

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

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

You hook your hands around his shoulders.

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

“I wouldn’t want to be ungentlemanly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chest heaving, you nod, massaging him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So fuckin’ pretty, baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel holds your body steady. “Tell me.”

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

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

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

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

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

He looks up at you expectantly.

“What–?”

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

“Darlin’. Up.”

“Joel.”

“Up.”

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

“I don’t know –”

“’m not gonna tell you again.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“J-oel. Joel, I’m – you’re – fuck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel pauses. “Stop?”

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

“Do what, darlin’?”

“Fuck me.”

And he sinks in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, darlin’, I know. C’mere.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Again.”

“I love you.”

You look up to his eyes. “Again.”

“I love you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So,” you sigh, “what’s next?”

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

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

“The other eight?”

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

“Kicked ‘em out.”

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

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

Your brows knit. “Like what?”

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

“Oh, fuck off.”

“What?” he asks, smirking.

“Who even were they? I wanna know.”

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut the fuck up. Who is it? Who?”

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

“What’s her name?”

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

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

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

“Who – was – it?”

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

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

“It was a long night, alright?”

“How did you forget her damn name?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

You don’t answer. He heard you.

“That’s…No. I ain’t answerin’ that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smiles. “Get dressed.”

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

The fun of it. The hope of it.

The foolish, foolish hope.

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

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

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

“You got your phone?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods once. “See you, babygirl.”

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

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

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

“Hey.”

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

“Joel gone?”

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

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

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

“…sure. Some…interesting stuff.”

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

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

“Sure,” he says, nodding.

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

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

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

That’s not where I fucking left it.

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

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

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

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

As you turn, you unlock your screen.

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

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

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

You: Problem. I think my dad saw that text

Joel: How so?

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

You: Joel I think he knows something

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

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

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

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

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

And your dad fucking knows it.

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

[pb524830]

anyone else

part: 3 pairing: paige bueckers x oc word count: 3.3k c/w: slight mention of blood, language a/n: hi guys! so sorry this is probably much later than you expected, i've just been so busy with school and other stuff. here's part 3. let me know what ideas you guys have for other fics and what you might want to see :)

OCTOBER 2020

Ava you good?     8:24 PM

Yo I’m waiting at mine       8:43 PM

Avaaaa      8:46 PM

I’m going crazy thinking about you dude      8:52 PM

I’m serious         8:52 PM

Don’t leave me hanging like this      8:52 PM

I read over Paige’s messages tiredly. I feel so incredibly stupid. How many times has she used these lines on girls? Probably more than she can count. I nearly laugh out loud. Poor Paige, I think to myself. Keeping track of a roster like that while being such a shitty person must be hard. The hatred is bubbling in my chest, angry and scorching. It pushes me to my feet, out my door, and to Audrey’s room.

Before I know what I’m doing, I knock on the door, plastering a smile on my face. “Hey, what’s up?” Aubrey says brightly when she opens her door. “Nothing much. Who was that, though?” Audrey smiles sheepishly. “Swear you won’t tell anyone?” She asks. My heart pounds painfully. Paige had asked me to keep quiet about us hanging out, too. I nod nonetheless. “It was Paige Bueckers.”

I knew that. I knew that. But somehow, hearing it out loud hurts even worse. “How-how did y’all meet?” She giggles, covering her mouth. “Okay, you remember that night we were at the gym? Doing serve-receive? Like last month?” I nod, the thudding in my chest suffocating me now. “She ran into me and she just, like, asked for my snap. And she’s hot so I gave it to her.”

The night she walked me home. The same night she told me I was pretty and told me that my smile was beautiful. 

She played me.

“Was she good?” I ask bluntly, my voice foreign to my own ears. Aubrey’s eyes widen. “Uh, yeah? Like, really good. Oh, my God - she did this thing with her tongue...” There’s a roaring in my ears all of a sudden.

She fucking played me.

“Avantika? Are you okay?” I nod, too wrapped up in my own thoughts and back away, stumbling back to my room. Had I liked her that much? Why does it hurt this bad? I glance around my room, my eyes landing on an article of clothing. Her hoodie. A UConn basketball hoodie. She’d given it to me after walking me home from practice one night.

She’d come to the volleyball gym just to walk me home. She told me I looked good in her clothes, but that I’d look better in her bed.

I’d slept in it for three days straight after. 

I want to burn it now.

NOVEMBER 2021

The surprise party is at Paige’s apartment. I haven’t been there in over a year. But I find myself standing in front of her door, too nervous to knock. Which doesn’t make any sense, obviously. There’s no reason to be nervous; it’s just like any other party. I’m dressed in a strappy green tank top and cargo pants, my hair down and curly. Taking a deep breath, I rap on the door with my knuckles.

Paige opens it. My breath catches, and I hate that it does. She’s in a pair of blue shorts and a sports bra, drying her hair with a towel. Her hand drops to her side, towel in hand, when she sees me. “Avantika, hi.” I smile slightly. “Hey,” I reply. “Am I early? I didn’t wanna be late, so-”

“Nah, ur good. You can help set up, actually,” she tells me, shuffling to the side to let me in. Her apartment looks the same as I remember. I catch a glimpse of her familiar, ludicrous purple bed sheets through her cracked room door. I turn to her, inhaling deeply. “What can I help with?” I ask, holding out my present for Azzi. Her eyes linger on me, trailing over my body as she takes the gift in one hand and continues drying her hair with the other. “I blew up balloons, but I didn’t string them together yet. You mind?” 

She sets the present on the counter, hopping up onto it. Her legs dangle off the edge, spread wide as she watches me string together balloons that say ‘Happy Birthday’. She fishes a dab pen out of her pocket and takes a hit. “You want?” She asks. I glance at her, shaking my head. She shrugs, tipping her head back to release the smoke. My eyes draw to her jawline, fingers going slack. I curse myself for still letting her have this effect on me. Her head lolls back forward, catching me staring. I see her mouth twitch into a smirk, ever so slightly, before she clears her throat. “You all good there?” She asks, gesturing to the balloon garland I’m supposed to be helping with.

I laugh shakily. “No, yeah. All good.” Paige shakes her head, grinning. “Here, I’ll do it. There’s a package in my bedroom with streamers. Go grab it?” I roll my eyes, handing the balloons and string over to her. “You remember which one it is?” She hums, eyes flicking to mine. My mouth twitches. I nod wordlessly.

The silence is so suffocating. I’m not used to being alone with her - at least, not anymore. I hate that her presence is still so intoxicating, that there’s still this undeniable force pulling me to her. I hate the way she laughs and the way she talks and the way she looks at me.

I get in and out of her room as quickly as possible, snatching the Amazon package off of her bed. I grab a knife from the kitchen to slice through the tape, but I’m so distracted that I accidentally slash my own finger. I hiss in pain, dropping the knife onto the counter with a clatter. “Fuck,” I whisper agitatedly, Paige’s head whipping up. “Avantika?” She asks. “All good,” I say, turning away from her, holding my finger to my chest, trying not to get blood on my top. It’s really flowing now, in rivets down my finger, pooling in my palm.

“Yo, Avantika,” Paige says, turning me towards her by my shoulder. “Oh, shit,” she breathes, grabbing my hand. “Okay, wait, it’s fine-” I try to get out, but Paige already has my finger in her mouth. My eyes widen as she licks away the blood, walking me backwards with her to rummage around a kitchen drawer. “Paige!” I say. She shoots me a look, taking my finger out of her mouth and wiping at her lips with the back of her hand. She fishes out a bandaid and an alcohol wipe. 

“I can do it-”

“Hush.”

I shut up immediately, watching as Paige cleans my cut, shaking her head when I hiss at the sting of the alcohol swab. She tears at the bandaid package with her teeth and applies it smoothly, wrapping it tightly around my finger. “How’d you even manage that?” She muses. I narrow my eyes at her, snatching her hand away. “It was very strategic, actually, I wanted to slice my hand open-”

“Clearly-”

“What are you, fuckin’ pre-med now?” I demand.

“Might have to be, if you can’t take care of yourself,” she laughs, shoving me lightly.

I shove her back, smiling back at her. I can’t help it.

Her eyes meet mine. “No ‘thank you'?” She asks.

I scoff. “You put a bandaid on me,” I ridicule.

Paige’s eyes widen. “I could’ve let you bleed to death,” she says.

I gape. “You are so dramatic-”

“And you’re ungrateful as hell, come here,” she complains, grabbing at my waist and pulling me against her more or less bare torso, hands going to my sides to tickle me. I shriek with laughter, fighting at her, clutching at her hands to pull her away from me. But Paige is relentless, hands going everywhere, ordering me, “Say thank you! Say thank you and I’ll stop!” 

“No shot!” I gasp, eyes welling with tears of laughter, trying to ignore the scent of strawberries that invades my nostrils. 

“Say it!” She demands, an arm winding all the way around my torso to hold me against her as I fight harder. 

“Yo, why the fuck is nothing set up?” I hear a voice demand. Paige’s hold loosens, but doesn’t relax. Her arms hang limply from my body, and when I see Evina standing indignantly in front of us, I shove her away. Paige clears her throat, backing up.

“Hi, Evina,” I say, my tone suddenly solemn. “Hi, E,” Paige says. She at least has the sense to look sheepish.

“Well, if y’all are done fucking around, Caroline’s about to drive Azzi back. Let’s get it together,” she commands, clapping her hands. Paige and I snap into motion, finishing up the decorations and hanging them up in a relatively organized fashion.

The party goes smoothly - Azzi does a good job of acting surprised, though I’m sure she’s well aware of what the girls were going to do in the first place. We cut cake and load her up with presents, before Paige calls for a round of shots.

And that’s when the night really takes off.

Soon enough, Paige has made some sort of insinuation that she can drink better than me, and I’m going shot for shot with her. She’s really putting me through it, knowing just how to push my competitive nature. Me, her, and Azzi begin alternating between vodka and tequila. We’re about 5 shots in before Aubrey and Christyn challenge Paige and Azzi to a game of beer pong. Azzi shakes her head adamantly. “If Paige loses because of me, I’ll never live it down,” she insists. “Ava will go!”

I protest immediately when Azzi pushes me towards the table, Paige in hot pursuit. “No way! I’m not playing beer pong with a bunch of basketball players,” I say indignantly. Suddenly, I feel Paige’s breath hot on my ear, and her hand at my hip. “Hey, I got you, okay? Trust.” Her voice sends shivers through me, and I feel my eyelids flutter. Damn her. I elbow her ever so slightly, shooting her a grin. She smirks back. 

Paige dips a ping-pong ball into a cup full of beer on our side, shooting it to theirs. It swirls into their middle cup, and she hands me the other one. I mimic her actions, making it into the cup at the tip of their triangle. We get the balls back, and Paige makes another shot, holding up a 3 on her hand when it plops into a cup at the corner of their triangle. I giggle at Christyn and Aubrey’s annoyed expressions, staggering into Paige. She braces her hands on my shoulders, her chest vibrating with laughter. “You good?” she laughs. I look up at her, her stark blue eyes framed by long, dark lashes, her perpetual smirk. “Yeah,” I breathe. “You want help with this shot?” She asks.

Paige doesn’t give me time to respond before she turns me around, wrapping her arms around me to position my arms, then flicking my wrist for me. The ball lands in their middle cup, and the other two girls groan, reaching for the cups to chug them. I expect Paige to move away from me, to drop my arms the second I’ve made the shot. But her hold lingers, an arm looped around my waist as she laughs, jeering at Christyn and Aubrey, tossing them the balls out of pity. Her arms stay around me, my head leaning back against her chest, hands lingering on her arms, swaying to the music I’m too drunk to recognize, dancing with the girl I’m too drunk to push away. She doesn’t remove her arms from around me until she has to shoot again.

I don’t remember who loses or wins that game of beer pong. I remember the taste of beer in my throat. I remember Paige’s voice in my ear - “Shot of Pink Whit?” I remember Azzi giggling as she leads me into the kitchen, her arms linked with mine as we down the shot of pink liquid. 

I remember Paige’s eyes hot on mine, her gaze challenging and curious. 

I walk up to her, holding out a shot of Pink Whitney. “Drink,” I command. Paige takes the shot from me, not breaking eye contact. She tips it back down her throat, straight-faced, and then wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

Fuck, she’s hot.

I clap gleefully, spinning away, but she catches at my waist, pulling me into her. “Avantika,” she murmurs. I cock my head. “Paige?” I ask. My heart is beating out of my chest, and I’m so drunk I don’t even realize how close we are. “Are you okay?” She asks sincerely. I nod happily, looping my arms around her neck. “Are you sure?” She repeats. I close my eyes, tipping my head back and laughing. “You don’t have to pretend to care about me,” I slur, lolling my head back towards her.

I must be drunk. I must be, because that’s not a flash of hurt that flits across her face. It can’t be. 

So I continue.

“I mean, you never really cared about me, did you?” I scoff, hanging off of her neck. Her brow furrows. “Avantika, what are you-”

“You just wanted to have sex with me…” I say sadly, pouting, tracing her face with my finger. Paige’s eyes widen.

“It’s okay. I wanted to have sex with you, too,” I admit, shrugging, tapping my finger against her lips. Paige shakes her head. “Avantika, you’re drunk,” she says. My hands trail down to rest on her chest. “No, I’m not,” I say indignantly.

“You are.”

“No, you are,” I retort, getting frustrated.

“Ava-”

I push her away immediately. “Do not fucking call me that,” I spit. She holds her hands up in surrender. “Okay, I’m sorry,” she tries to amend, reaching for me again. I stagger away. “No, fuck you,” I snap. “Avantika, you’re so drunk right now. Please, just come lie down.”

She’s pleading with me. I hesitate. “Please,” she begs again, holding a hand out.

I hesitate. “Okay,” I whisper, taking her hand. She pulls me into her chest, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. We stumble through the apartment, the din of conversation in music echoing faintly in the background. Dimly, I hear Azzi’s concerned voice cut through the haze. “Is she okay?” Paige nods. “She was trying to keep up with me,” she explains. “And you let her?” Azzi demands. “Look, I’m sorry-”

“Put her to bed in your room. And no funny business. She’s my friend.”

“Whatever, Azzi.”

Before I know it, Paige���s soft bedspread is tickling my nose. “Avantika, you want water?” She asks. I stretch out, nodding sleepily. “Here, sit up.” I let Paige feed me water, her fingers fumbling with the cap of the bottle. Then she lays me back down. “Sleep, okay?” She turns to walk out the door.

And then, like it has a mind of its own, my mouth opens. “Paige?” I whisper. She turns around immediately. “Will you stay?” I ask softly.

Wordlessly, she climbs into bed with me, kicking off her shoes. She wraps her arms around me, pulling me against her body, and I let her, breathing her scent in, happy that I get to touch her. I snuggle into her, too drunk to care about the implications of how close we are or what we were doing the last time we were both on this bed.

“Paige,” I say quietly. “Hm?” I shift to look up at her, tracing the line of her nose with my eyes. “I don’t actually hate you,” I mumble. She laughs. “You better go to sleep before you say something you regret,” she murmurs. I blink, not fully understanding her words. But I nestle against her chest, letting my arm loop around her waist.

“Avantika?” She asks after a few minutes. I don’t respond. I feel her hand tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. “Ava,” she repeats, more firmly. I still don’t answer, too tired to move my mouth, humming softly.

Her breath whistles against my forehead when she says what she says next.

 “God, I missed you.”

NOVEMBER 2020

“Ava.”

It’s just after a tough loss to Georgetown, and I’m exhausted. As soon as I exit the gym, though, Paige is waiting for me. I have no idea how she’s managed to get anywhere near the volleyball locker rooms.

I deliberately ignore her, brushing past her.

“Ava, come on, talk to me!” She calls, jogging after me.

“I have nothing to say to you,” I say shortly, walking faster.

“You owe me an explanation,” Paige pants, catching up to me and grabbing my arm. She spins me around to face her. “Why haven’t you answered my texts?” She demands. There’s a hint of hurt in her voice. There’s purple under her eyes. 

Fuck her.

“Didn’t even realize you’d texted me,” I say casually. 

Her eyes narrow. “That’s bullshit and we both know it.” 

I shrug nonchalantly. “Maybe I just don’t think about you as much as you think about me,” I say, rolling my eyes. She looks taken aback. The truth is I’ve thought about her every single day since that night about a week ago. I’ve replayed every moment, every touch, every word of everything she’s ever done or said to me in my head. And then I remember her leaning in to kiss Audrey. The way she cupped her face. The way she grabbed her waist and pulled her in. The way she smiled that heartbreaking smile against her lips before she pulled away.

Paige recovers from her shock quickly, reaching for me again. I step back away from her.

“Ava,” she tries again.

It hurts to hear her say that. That name for me that only she’s ever called me, and it’d only been a couple of months, but this girl had made her way into my head and my heart.

“Don’t call me that,” I tell her coldly.

“What?” She asks, stepping closer again.

“I said don’t call me that. Are you deaf?” I demand. I know I’m being rude. Mean, even. I don’t care. I need her as far away from me as possible.

Hurt flashes across her features.

“Matter of fact, don’t text me at all,” I say, disgust lacing my tone. I force it there.

“Why the fuck are you acting like this? You were all over me a week ago, just begging me to fuck you-” Her voice is raising, but mine can, too.

“Oh, shut the fuck up, you piece of shit,” I snap at her.

“You know what, you’re being such a bitch right now-” She accuses, her features twisting with annoyance.

“It’s not my fault you can’t take a fucking hint,” I sneer.

She crowds my space, towering over me, leaning down slightly to snarl against my face.

“And what was the hint I was supposed to take, hm?” Her voice is quiet, but there’s anger in her tone, dripping into me in the way her breath hits my face. She’s so close, her scent so intoxicating, that I just want to give in. “Was the hint that you were stripping for me in my bed? Or that you were moaning my name? Which one was it, Avantika?”

I slap her. Not hard, just enough that she stumbles back. Her hand flies to her cheek, eyes widening in shock. 

“I don’t want you,” I say coolly. Liar, liar, liar.

“So leave me the fuck alone.”

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fic #fic #wcbb #paige bueckers x oc #✂️ anon #uconn wbb

[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen: All That You Are

Plot: A chaotic press conference precedes a match that ends in violence.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: f!reader, language, minor violence

A/N: I’m gonna chalk this week’s chapters up to having some free time and also being really motivated to get to the next few. Phew, let me tell you…this is the last chance I’m giving y’all to breathe. The final act kicks off in the next chapter and we don’t stop till the very end…so everybody enjoy the fluff and the jokes while you’ve got them 🙃

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged and, as always, enjoy!

————————

AFC Richmond’s hot streak just…kept…going.

They were killing it, both at matches and training. More importantly, they were happy. Joyful, even. Which meant everyone else was too.

More and more fans started showing up to watch training till eventually, the stands were packed. Y/n had begun to come out more often, genuinely enjoying watching the boys practice, and had found a way to make it a PR matter. She helped get the crowd riled up, engaging with them and encouraging them to cheer and chant for their players. She’d collected whatever merchandise they had a surplus of, pens or coffee mugs usually, and made a game of handing them out to the fans that came. Ted had encouraged her to keep doing it, it only further fostered the atmosphere he wanted to create.

Y/n hurried upstairs one day in particular, having missed the alarm set on her phone while she was hauling a bag of freebies from the gift shop to her office. She was never late and felt like she was going to burst into flames for being so.

“Whoa,” Ted called, just a few steps behind her, “Someone call Allyson Felix. Let her know she better watch her back.”

Y/n hung back on the landing to catch her breath, falling back in step once Ted caught up. “We ran out of the mugs the other day but I’ve got coasters and coozies for this afternoon.”

“Ooh,” Ted exclaimed, “You’ve been killin’ it in the swag department, missy. Everyone’s a little more hyped knowing they get a prize just for participation.”

Y/n grunted, “Trophies for doing nothing is also why my generation hates work, so don’t applaud me yet.”

They entered Rebecca’s office laughing only to find the atmosphere contrasting their good moods. Spread out on the couch, Keeley had her face buried in Rebecca’s lap.

“Uh-oh,” Ted announced his presence, “When girl-talk turns into girl-hug, you know that either means something horrible’s happened, or absolutely nothing at all.”

“Please say nothing at all,” Y/n set her purse down and grabbed the takeaway box Rebecca had ordered for her.

“Jack’s ghosting Keeley,” their boss explained.

“Oh, no,” Ted frowned.

Y/n sunk into the cushion beside Keeley, rubbing her shoulder as the blonde snuggled back under Rebecca’s arm.

“First, she wants to go on a break,” Ted recounted, “And now the old digital Irish goodbye. Which is a term I never really understood. ‘Cause I got a buddy back home named Seamus O’Malley, and that son of a gun hugs folks goodbye for, like, twenty minutes before he leaves anywhere.”

Y/n smiled down at her salad. The last few months may have softened her, but decades could pass and Ted would remain the same.

“Yeah,” he looked to Keeley, “Sorry to hear about that. Hey, I did make you some biscuits, you know, just to soften the blow.”

“Oh, thanks Ted,” Keeley took the pink package from him and opened it. Her eye blew open, “What? There’s like forty quid in here.”

“Well, I didn’t know you were gonna be here till this morning,” Ted explained, “No time to do anything special so I just tossed a little cash in there.”

Keeley nodded, “That is very sweet. Thank you, Ted.”

“Ain’t nothin’ to it but to do it,” he shrugged, turning to Rebecca, “Hey, boss. You mind if I skip the press conference today? Michelle and I got these parent-teacher meetings I don’t wanna miss.”

Rebecca shrugged and smiled, “Of course, Ted. Family first.”

“I appreciate it.”

“So…” Y/n trailed off, “Who’s next in line?”

A metaphorical lightbulb went off over Keeley’s head. “We could have Roy do it,” she suggested, “I know he hates that stuff, but he is really good at it.”

Y/n struggled to see the “good” part of how Roy handled the press. On her last count, he’d cussed out no more than six reporters.

“I mean, you know, fine by me,” Ted replied.

Rebecca agreed, “Great idea.”

“Look at you,” Ted smiled at Keeley, “Heartbroken, but still kickin’ butt.”

“I mean, I’m not heartbroken,” Keeley fidgeted in her seat, “It’s more like heart-bent.”

“Heart-bent,” Ted mused, “I like that. It’s a great title for a country song. You know, like,” he began to sing, “I’m heart-bent, in my apartment, ‘cause all that you left, was your fart scent.”

“Alright. Goodbye, Ted,” Rebecca cued him up to leave, though Keeley was laughing and Y/n was smiling through a bite of spinach.

“And now that you’re gone,” Ted continued on his way out to the hall, “I wrote this song, ‘cause all you left was, the smell of your farts.”

Y/n pointed to the door with her fork, “Speaking on behalf of our homeland, we can do better than that.”

Rebecca snorted and Keeley rested her head on Y/n’s shoulder.

“Right,” she held out her hand, “Show me.”

Keeley handed it over and Y/n bore witness to the mile long chain of texts her boss had sent their boss. It was embarrassing to say the least, but Y/n wasn’t about to kick Keeley when she was already laid out.

“Wow,” she strained as she scrolled.

“I know,” Keeley moaned.

“It’s like a river,” Y/n mused as she surfed the rest of the blue bubbles, “Can you promise one thing?”

Keeley hummed.

Y/n handed her phone back, “No more. She’s the one that stomped on you, she gets to do the groveling.”

And grovel she should. From what Keeley had told Y/n, Jack had handled their conversation regarding the video leak and the so-called “statement” horrifically. Jack seemed offended that Keeley had dared to have a meaningful relationship before her. It was jealousy where jealousy didn’t belong.

Whereas Y/n was still struggling to comprehend Jamie and Keeley ever having been together.

“I won’t, I won’t,” Keeley threw her phone on the other side of the couch, “I’m done.”

“Good,” Y/n nodded firmly.

“And that’s all you’ve got to say?” Keeley asked with a raised brow, “Nothing else?”

Y/n purposefully filled her mouth with a far-too-large bite of lettuce. She had plenty to say on the matter, Keeley knew damn well, but she was determined not to do so unless there was a confirmed break-up. After all, Jack was still their boss.

“Nope,” she mumbled.

Rebecca and Keeley descended into a fit of snorts.

Later, the three women were were seeing Keeley out to her car. Roy was just coming down the hall when they came off the last step.

“Oh, speak of the devil,” Rebecca said.

“Okay,” Roy replied before looking to his ex. An awkward silence came about for three seconds, though it felt like much longer. “Keeley.”

“Roy,” she nodded back to him.

Rebecca, blissfully, pulled them out. “So I need you to fill in for Ted at today’s press conference, if that’s okay.”

Roy didn’t hesitate in his reply, “Fuck no.”

Keeley, Rebecca and Y/n were just as unflinching as they waited for the answer to change.

“I mean,” Roy backtracked, “Why can’t Ted do it?”

His eyes went from woman to woman, waiting for one of them to answer or crack or…something.

Or nothing.

“I mean,” he pasted an unnatural grin to his face, “I’d love to.”

Y/n pointed a finger and nodded.

“Wonderful,” Rebecca replied, looking to Keeley and Y/n, “Shall we?”

The three of them left Roy in the hall, waiting for the inevitable reaction.

“Fuck,” he said rather loudly.

“I heard that,” Rebecca smirked.

“You still have my word,” Y/n remarked to her boss, “Send me up there, I’ll give them all they want to know. Sell everybody out. We’ll be on every front page in the country.”

Rebecca laughed, though Keeley missed it entirely. She was too busy glancing back at Roy.

—————————

Later in the afternoon, with the press conference a few minutes away from starting, Y/n swung by her office to pick up the notes she’d jotted down for Roy.

As she grabbed her notebook, she noticed there was a tea sitting next to her laptop.

She picked it up and examined it. It had come from the café, her name was written on the side in the big loopy handwriting Delilah, the barista, used. Assuming she wasn’t being set up to be poisoned, she took a sip and accepted the anonymous kindness.

Y/n made it down to the press room, meeting Higgins in the back and waiting for Roy to enter.

The door opened, and Beard walked through.

Y/n’s face dropped, “Um…”

“Where’s Ted?” Higgins asked.

“Where’s Roy?” Y/n corrected, “He’s supposed to be filling in.”

Beard took his seat at the desk, “Good afternoon. I know you all were expecting Ted, but he couldn’t make it today. I, however, will be happy to answer any and all questions, so,” he gestured to the desk filled with recorders and phones, “Fire away.”

Y/n took a breath, it wasn’t so bad. Beard, while not always the most sociable, was well-spoken and highly intelligent. He might have even been a better choice than Roy for his mood alone.

She regretted every thinking such a thing within two minutes.

“Look, man,” Beard sat back in the chair, “We can debate all day, Zeppelin versus Eagles, but one thing that is absolutely not up for debate is Walsh versus Page.”

“Oh, come off it,” the man fired back, “You honestly think it’s Walsh over Page?”

Y/n whispered to Higgins, “How did this go so far off the rails this fast?”

“I don’t know,” he replied.

She handed him her tea, “Hold this.”

Y/n quietly and calmly exited the room, breaking into a light jog in the hall and up the stairs. She knocked on Rebecca’s open door but didn’t bother to be invited in.

“Hi,” she greeted quickly, “Um, did something happen to Roy in the two hours since he was last seen?”

Rebecca’s brow lowered, “No, why?”

Y/n thinned her lips to a line, “You might wanna come downstairs.”

Without question, Rebecca followed her down and into the press room. Things had taken another turn in the minute Y/n had disappeared for.

“That is not what I said, Gary,” Beard angrily pointed to the reporter in question.

“I have your quote right here,” Gary chuckled.

“You did say it, Coach,” another on agreed.

“Stay out of this, Lloyd,” Beard snapped.

“Don’t shout at Lloyd,” Sarah, another reporter, said.

Y/n flattened her palm against her forehead.

“You said, and I quote,” Gary looked down at his notes, “‘Joe Walsh is a better guitarist than Jimmy Page.’ That’s what you said!”

Beard leaned back in his chair, exasperated by the fight he’d started. “Fine! I said it,” he spread his arms out in defeat, “But what I meant was that Joe Walsh, underrated. Jimmy Page,” he got stuck on the last word in his rage, “Overrated!”

The room was arguing amongst itself.

“I mean, Joe Walsh is a poet,” Beard went on, “Jimmy Page is a fucking court stenographer on Adderall.”

As the room digested the answer in shock, and amusement, Y/n reached out to Higgins, retaking her tea and taking a large swig as if it were wine.

“Are you out of your mind?” Gary laughed, “Page could beat Walsh with one string.”

“What do you mean, beat him?” Beard replied angrily, “It’s not a competition, man. It’s art, you fucking Neanderthal!”

Y/n, Higgins and Rebecca surged forward at the same time.

“Hello,” Rebecca cheerily announced, trying to draw the attention to herself while Higgins grabbed Beard, who was still arguing with Gary. “Hello! Hello!”

Y/n acted as a shield for Higgins as he walked Beard out of the room, dropping him in the side hall. But not before Beard could get in one last insult.

“‘Stairway to Heaven’” is a glorified fingering exercise, and you all know it!”

Higgins smiled at the press as he shut the door, Y/n blindly reaching behind to help him push against Beard’s weight.

“I can’t think of the last time I was able to be here with all you absolutely…” Rebecca spoke loudly over the noise of Beard still yelling into the door. Y/n and Higgins blocked his face from view. “Just brilliant members of the press down here in the pressroom. So with that in mind, I would love to take some questions. Come on,” Rebecca spread her arms welcomingly, “Absolutely ask me anything.”

“Oh, shit,” Y/n mumbled. This wasn’t any better.

Marcus from The Independent announced himself when Rebecca nodded towards him.

“Hello there, Marcus,” she greeted, “How are you?”

“Very well.”

“Good, good.”

“Miss Welton,” Marcus asked, “In your opinion, who’s the greatest classic rock guitarist of all time?”

Rebecca stuttered a bit, stuck on the question that had her blanking out on any rock she’d ever listened to.

“The, uh…” she struggled, “The…guy from Cream.”

Higgins snorted, Y/n buried her head in her hand as the pressroom quietly and collectively laughed.

“Uh…” Rebecca began.

“I think,” Y/n came to stand beside her boss, grinning abnormally large, “That in the wake of our recent wins, we’re all still a bit hazy from the excitement. I think we’re going to call this for the day, but we’ll be ready and waiting for you after the match this Sunday against Brighton. Thank you so much!”

Y/n placed her hands on Rebecca’s back and marched her towards the door.

“Uh, Ms. Y/l/n,” Marcus spoke up, “Care to comment on who you think the greatest guitarist is?”

“Keith Richards,” Y/n answered, “Purely because he’s still standing.”

Whatever reaction she’d caused, she didn’t hear them. Her and Higgins had gotten Rebecca safely out into the hall.

“Sorry about that,” she shuddered.

“You’re alright,” Y/n patted her shoulder.

“‘The guy from Cream,’” Higgins giggled.

“Yes, all right,” Rebecca twisted to face Higgins, “Don’t start with me, Leslie! I panicked,” she took a seething breath, “I’m going to murder Roy Kent.”

“If you don’t, I will,” Y/n exhaled.

“Look, Roy not doing press is just Roy being Roy,” Higgins stated.

Y/n gestured to the door they’d just come out of, “And look where it got us.”

“Well, I am sick of Roy being Roy,” Rebecca spat, hands on her hips, “So it’s time for Rebecca to be Rebecca.”

Without another word, she marched off in the direction of the training room. The boys would nearly be done with their afternoon workout.

“Oh, yes,” Higgins agreed, “Absolutely- I couldn’t,” he turned with Y/n to watch Rebecca strut away from them, “Yeah. There you go. Yes! Ooh!”

Y/n breathed a laugh, if anyone rubbed off on her from Richmond, she hoped it was Rebecca. There was a fierceness inside her that Y/n had never possessed in her life, but she’d have liked to.

“Stay for the aftermath?” Higgins asked.

“Oh, definitely,” Y/n nodded. She wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to stare down Roy.

Quick enough, Rebecca marched back up the stairs, Roy following thirty seconds later. While Higgins’ best frown was still his worst smile, Y/n glared at the coach unflinchingly. He did his best to ignore them both on the way up to Rebecca’s office.

“Another day,” Y/n mumbled, her and Higgins heading their separate ways for the rest of the afternoon.

As she walked down the hall, some of the boys came out of the training room. She high-fived them before coming up on Jamie, bringing up the rear.

He flicked the cup of tea, still in Y/n’s hand, and smirked. “Cheers.”

Y/n looked back and met his waiting gaze, the two of them sharing a smile. The days at Nelson Road grew more unpredictable the further into the season they got, but some things were as constant as breathing.

——————

The day of the Brighton match started as normal as any other. Y/n made the familiar trek to the owner’s box, taking a seat between Keeley and Higgins, and braced for the ninety minutes of nerves she both hated and loved.

“Oh, it’s Jack,” Keeley announced as she scrolled her phone. The three of them sat to attention as they waited to hear the text, “She’s saying that she’s in Argentina…for the next couple of months.”

“Ouch,” Higgins commented. Y/n scoffed while Rebecca pulled Keeley into her side.

“Well,” Keeley took a breath, “I think our break is actually an ‘up.’ So now that Jack is officially my ex,” she looked between the group, “Please feel free to say any of the things that you didn’t like about her.”

Rebecca sighed, “Well-“

“Ooh,” Higgins chimed in, “Her handshake was way too firm. You know-“ he groaned and grunted as he imitated the action, “I get it. You’re friendly. Good riddance.”

Y/n bit down on her bottom lip, trying to keep the comments from flying out her mouth.

“Something you’d like to say, Y/n?” Keeley asked knowingly.

Shaking her head, she tried to go the diplomatic route. “Just want to watch some football.”

Keeley slowly nodded, staring out at the field with her.

“And she’s a fucking asshole,” Y/n muttered as low as she could to let only Keeley hear it. They smiled to one another.

Right off the bat, the Greyhounds were struggling. Isaac, usually so focused, was off his game. He cost them a goal kick and earned Brighton a corner instead. It wasn’t like him and the fans were letting their displeasure be known.

Even worse, when Colin lost an easy goal, Isaac went after him. The two of them argued until Jamie and Sam, playing peacemaker, held Isaac back from following Colin any further.

Y/n frowned, something had to have happened before the match. The boys were far more in sync than this, and they sure as hell didn’t fight each other.

The first half ended on the heels of Dani just nearly making a goal, only for Brighton to block it. The score was 1-nil as the Greyhounds trudged back to the locker room.

Higgins, Y/n, Rebecca and Keeley went silent as the fifteen minute break began. There wasn’t anything to say.

Y/n’s eyes were glazing over the crowd on the opposite side of the stadium when a commotion started. She followed the noise to the tunnel to see Isaac, leaping into the stands and grabbing one of the fans.

“Oh my gosh,” she mumbled. Keeley, Rebecca and her all rose to their feet.

With the distance, the scene could hardly be seen properly, but it appeared that Isaac was holding the fan by the shirt and yelling in his face. The ref had never pulled the red card out so fast. It was unprecedented and unacceptable.

Higgins rushed out his seat, the women moving to make room for him down the aisle. Y/n’s eyes followed Roy as he helped Isaac down and started shouting something to the security guards.

The scene died down as quickly as it began. The fan was escorted out of the stadium and the Greyhounds disappeared into the tunnel.

“What the hell was that?” Rebecca finally asked.

“I don’t know,” Keeley breathed.

Internally, Y/n began to feel some sort of panic build. She couldn’t decipher the complexities of it, all she knew was she had to move.

“Where are you going?” Rebecca asked as Y/n slid past them.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled Keeley’s same answer, already climbing the stairs.

She hurried through the suite, past all the fans opening social media to post that they’d witnessed the fight themselves. Past all the fans in the concourse exclaiming how McAdoo was about to fucking kill the twat. Y/n couldn’t hear any of it as she made for the personnel-only entrance into the building.

When she made it to the empty hall outside the locker room, she faltered. Her immediate reaction would be to run in, but she knew it was far from appropriate. Her hand instinctively reached toward the door, even with feet of space between her and it. She couldn’t.

Nearly as soon as she’d thought it, Isaac came bursting through the door, unaware of her presence as he stalked to the boot room. He slammed that door shut and Y/n flinch at the sound.

Ten seconds later, Roy came out much more peacefully, but still with purpose.

Y/n stepped forward, her movements and her voice hesitant, “Hey-“

Roy could see the concern etched deeply in her face and touched her arm as he passed. “I got it.”

It wasn’t often that Roy wasn’t scowling, wasn’t speaking like he smoked a pack of cigarettes a day. For him to speak softly, to voluntarily comfort someone, he had to have meant it.

Y/n stood frozen as he shut the door to the boot room, all the pieces of her reaction making sense suddenly. After Isaac had attacked the fan, her first thought hadn’t been about PR. It hadn’t been about the clean-up her and Keeley would have to do, the stress of it all. It hadn’t had anything to do with what the internet would think or the fans or anyone.

Her first thought was to wonder if Isaac was okay.

She knew by now she cared about AFC Richmond. She had a special affection for Rebecca and their weekly tea. Keeley had cracked her way past Y/n’s gates simply by being herself. Ted was the nicest slice of home she could have gotten.

This was different. This was caring so deeply for the team that she was standing in the hall, unmoving until she knew they were all alright.

It was no longer about letting them in, Y/n knew, it was about how deeply etched in her heart they were.

She waited, waited, the whole fifteen minutes, hearing only the muffled mumbles of the team’s conversation through the doors. When they cheered and exited the room, their spirits seemingly lifted, none of them even noticed her against the wall.

Y/n moved to stand outside the boot room, catching Colin and Trent as the last ones to exit the locker room. Trent threw her a small salute that she matched, before heading out to his own seat. She still wasn’t leaving until she knew all was well.

Eventually, Roy came out of the boot room with Isaac in tow. The disgraced captain glanced up at her as he passed, Y/n made a point to squeeze his arm. He didn’t flinch at her touch, but didn’t make a point of lingering as he headed to the locker room to wait the game out.

As Y/n inhaled, Roy nodded, “He’s alright.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

The two of them walked back to their separate paths, Roy heading out to the pitch and Y/n heading back to the owner’s box.

The match turned around after that, tremendously so. The Greyhounds had hit the pitch united once more, particularly Colin, who’d assisted in both goals that had led them to victory. Balance seemed to have been restored, and while Isaac would still be the most memorable part of the game, Colin’s efforts wouldn’t be forgotten.

And, as always, Y/n’s work began the moment the ref called it.

There were strict instructions from both Keeley and her to Higgins not to grab any of the players. They’d no doubt be asked about their captain’s actions and none of them needed to deal with that stress. Ted was the only one who could comfortably handle it.

They waited with Rebecca in the back of the room, Higgins and Trent joined them at the last minute.

“He’s on his way,” Higgins said.

“Thank you, Leslie,” Rebecca replied before turning to Keeley and Y/n, “You gave Ted some talking points?”

Keeley frowned, “No. I haven’t done that in a long time.”

“Not for a while,” Y/n added.

The side door opened before Rebecca could truly begin to worry. Where Ted should have strolled in, Roy did instead.

“Fuck,” Y/n whispered, punctuated by a gag from Higgins.

Roy took a seat at the desk, staring down the entire room. No one was wearing their surprise well.

“Yeah, alright, you got me today,” he growled, “Any questions?”

Every reporter’s hand went up, all of them shouting to get Roy’s attention.

“Fucking hell,” he mumbled before pointing to one of them, “You. Five-o’-clock shadow head.”

Gary, self-proclaimed Jimmy Page fan, stood up. “Coach Kent, do you or the organization condone what Isaac McAdoo did today?”

“What a stupid fucking question,” Roy was quick to reply, Rebecca, Higgins and Y/n all screwing their eyes shut. “‘Course we don’t. What Isaac did was awful. He was lucky he only got a red card.”

“Okay,” Gary relented, “So why’d he do it?”

Roy chuckled, looking like he was nearly about to say something before stopping himself. Instead of cursing or snarking, he settled back in his chair.

“When I was first coming up through Sunderland, there was an old-timer on the team,” Roy began, “Local guy. He and his wife were about to have their first kid. So during training one day, I made a joke that statistically, I was probably the real dad. And the boys fell about laughing, but he went fucking nuts. He battered me. Properly. I had a black eye, chipped tooth, three broken ribs…I couldn’t play for six games. He got booted off the team. After that,” Roy shook his head, “No club would go near him.”

“Then in the summer, after I could breathe again,” he went on, “I bumped into him in a pub. And I got the chance to say sorry for my stupid fucking joke. And he got to tell me he and his wife had lost the baby a month before all that went down. He hadn’t told anyone. Kept it all inside.”

The room had fallen hush, save for the occasional click of a camera.

“Look, I get that some people think if they buy a ticket,” Roy’s voice regained its strength, “They’ve got the right to yell whatever abusive shit they want at footballers. But they’re not just footballers. They’re also people. And none of us,” he dragged his finger across the room, “Know what is going on in each other’s lives.”

“So for Isaac to do what he did today, even though it was wrong,” Roy pointed to his chest, “I give him love. And as for why he did what he did,” he leaned closer to the microphones, “That’s none of my fucking business.”

That was it. There was nothing left to say. Roy had handled it with more grace and patience than anyone could have expected.

Y/n smiled to herself, “Okay.”

“Next question,” he called to the room, which erupted back into shouts and flashes, “Yeah, new Trent.”

“Coach,” Marcus spoke up, “Let’s talk about Colin Hughes.”

“Yeah, he’s a hell of a player,” Roy answered, “And a great man. I think we’ve underused him.”

“I think you’re right,” Marcus said.

“Glad we agree,” Roy replied, “I prefer you to old Trent.”

The room laughed before Roy called on the next reporter. Rebecca and him shared a look of acknowledgement, this was making up for his ditching of the last presser.

Roy went on answering questions a few minutes longer before abruptly calling it. As everyone was saying their goodbyes for the evening, Y/n caught him in the hall.

“You did good,” she complimented.

Roy grunted a little, still bad at taking praise about anything other than his professional abilities. “Sorry if I…made your job harder the other day.”

She shrugged, “No more so than anyone else. You’re just more of a dick about it.”

Having said it with a smile Roy knew Y/n wasn’t serious…totally. His lips quirked up ever so slightly.

“Night, Roy,” Y/n said, hitting his arm as she walked past him.

“Cheers,” he replied, heading his own way.

—————————

While the day was a victory, Jamie was exhausted. Some of the boys had gone out to celebrate, he was one of the ones who decided heading home was more appealing.

A ring of the doorbell dragged him off his couch and into the entryway. He opened the door, his chest both filling and draining at the sight.

Y/n was leant against the frame, a soft smile on her lips. She held up a paper takeaway bag.

“I won’t tell Roy if you don’t,” she promised.

Jamie chuckled under his breath and moved to let her in.

It wasn’t just the match that’d worn Jamie out. Colin’s confession in the locker room was…heavy. Weighing most on Colin, of course, but when the celebratory noise had died down and Jamie was left to his own thoughts, he found they were louder than normal.

Y/n showing up only acted as an amplifier.

Here was Colin, hiding away one of the biggest parts of himself. Forced to keep the person he loved in the shadows for fear of the public’s reaction. He couldn’t hold them, couldn’t be seen with them, couldn’t claim them. The person who meant everything to him.

And here was Jamie, with the woman he cared about most standing before him, feeling the weight of his privilege.

“Samir was working tonight,” Y/n announced as she slipped off her shoes, “He kept asking me if I was buying for us both. I think he slipped in some extra-“

She was cut off by Jamie, wrapping his arms around her in a full embrace.

Jamie wasn’t good with words. He was barely good with feelings. And expressing them was a whole other matter. What he did know to be true was that Y/n was the singular most important person in his life. Whether he’d realized it before or not, he wasn’t sure. But it was suddenly crushing him, he was overwhelmed by his affection for her. She was the best part of his worst times, the highlight of his days. The literal sunshine lighting up the darkest parts of him, the parts everyone else looked at and ran from. But not her, never her.

Y/n stumbled a bit, Jamie steadying her as he tugged her to his body. It wasn’t like they never hugged, but this felt different. The whole day had been so emotionally charged, she wasn’t surprised that he was feeling some of it. She wasn’t sure what had happened in the locker room between halves or after the game, but whatever it was had done something to him, and she apparently was the solution.

The truth was, Jamie was the first person Y/n hadn’t tired of being there for. She wanted to save him at every possible opportunity. To be there for him in whatever way he needed her. Lord knows he had done it enough for her. He’d looked at her ugliest parts and matched them, the two of them somehow growing together through their horrible histories. Some relationships were easily replaced, but there could never be another Jamie.

Y/n slid her arms around Jamie’s back, stealing some of the comfort for herself.

Jamie rested his chin on her shoulder, shutting his eyes and letting the moment wash over him. The world could stop, just for a moment, and it would be there when they broke apart. But for now, Y/n was all he wanted to feel.

They stayed in the hall, clinging to one another, having only unwrapped the first layer of what all they felt meant.

—————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

#ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso imagine #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #ted lasso x reader #rebecca welton x reader #keeley jones x reader #heartfirst

[myfavouritefoodismilkbread]

Y/N being a brat on purpose because she likes the punishments

Hyung line

Warnings: suggestive, degradation, punishment, edging, orgasm denial, spanking

A/N: just a subby here who wished these happen to her y’all :)) it’s pure fiction, my imagination, my writing DOES NOT reflect the way the boys really are

Chan

For the last 2 months you’ve played by his rules, you’ve been the perfect little good girl he wanted, but today you felt a bit reckless. You love his spankings, it’s something about his big hands landing on your sensitive skin of your bum. Today was the day when you’re gonna say no, be a brat, you needed the brat treatment, just the tough of it makes your pussy wet.

“Babygirl, the dinner is ready, come eat please” said your beloved boyfriend Chan, and you knew it was your time to shine.

“No, I’m not hungry” you said with a smirk on your lips.

Chan thought that he didn’t quite hear right, you saying no? That’s not something he enjoyed so much. He came by the sofa where you stand playing on your switch, and he asked you:

“Excuse me? I don’t think I hear you right. What did you said, babygirl?”

He wasn’t that angry, not yet at least. So you think you can play harder. Without looking at him, your head invested in the game you played, you said again:

“I said no daddy, I’m not hungry. I don’t wanna”

He look at you in disbelief, what do you mean no? He was tired from today’s schedules, and even so he wanted to cook for you to spoil his babygirl and she said no? He wasn’t having any of that.

“Y/N.”

Now you got him where you wanted. Calling you by your name? He was angry. But it wasn’t quite enough, you decided you could do more, so the moment when you look up at him and told him what you wanted to say, you knew it’s gonna be over for you, your pussy clenching around nothing just by the tought:

“Christopher.”

That was it. The last straw. You calling him by his name? No, this is not happening.

“Bend over my knees. Now. If you’re gonna squirm, cry, scream or anything related to it I’m gonna start over. 10 spanks, you’re gonna count, you hear me, you brat?”

HELL YES. You looked into his eyes and simply told him “Yes, daddy” compling with everything he said.

You bend over his knees, and the moment you put yourself into the position to take your punishment he tore your panties and put his 2 fingers over your pussy which was glistering with your arousal.

You hear him laugh at that, by now he figured out your plan and he said:

“You’ve being a brat on purpose? Hmm, babygirl? You wanted daddy to spank you, princess?”

While he said those words to you, he also put his fingers inside your pussy and start scissoring them, a moan slipped thru your mouth already:

“N-no daddy, ahh, I promise!”

“You fucking brat, also lying to her daddy?”

SPANK.

He caught you by surprise, a sound of pain and pleasure erupted from your month.

“What did I said to you, babygirl? No sounds, or I’m gonna start again. Add 5 more because you didn’t count, yea?”

Lee Know

Minho was scary when he was mad, you knew. But something about mean Minho got you butterflies in your tummy, also, when you were being a brat it always end up with you squirting.

His punishment were not easy, he liked to edge you ‘till the verge of tears and denied your orgasm until he was convinced you deserve to cum.

Today was the day, you wanted to make him mad, so when he asked you if you wanted to go with him at dance practice you knew that was the perfect place.

In one of the breaks, you looked at Changbin and you knew he was gonna be the victim. Without much notice, you said loud enough so your boyfriend could hear you:

“Hey Binnie, you worked out lately? Your arms looks good today!”

At that statement, your boyfriend head snaps at you and he looks at you intensly, but that wasn’t enough. When Changbin attention was on you, you said to him:

“I really wanna go to the gym too but I don’t know where to start. Maybe you can teach me some things, for wannabes”

Changbin smiled at you because he figure it out what you were tryna do, so as a good friend he played along:

“Sure, y/n. If you are free tomorrow, I can show you some things, what do you say, kitten?”

When Minho heard Changbin call you kitten he saw red. Only him gets to call you kitten, and Bin knew. You smiled at Changbin because you knew he was helping you and also to piss off Minho more. When you wanted to respond to Changbin you heard your boyfriend say:

“I’m going home. See you tomorrow. Y/N, get out, now”

At his words you got up and went to the door, looking at Changbin and whispering a “Thank you” to him, he already winked back at you.

You arrive in Minho’s car, pretending that nothing’s happening, and you ask him with your sweetest voice:

“What’s worng, Min? Did something happen?”

He looks at you and you saw how angry he was. He scared you a little but you knew it’s gonna be the ride of your life. He open his mouth and said in his deep voice:

“You wanna be a slut around my friends? It’s not a problem, kitten. I’m gonna treat you like the slut you are, yea? Get in the back, now”

Shit, he is already degrading you, he was mad mad. You get into the back of the car and looked at him with innocent eyes. He asked you:

“What’s your safe word?”

“Teacup” you said looking at him serios in the eyes, a bit scared but excited.

“Good, remember it, yeah? Take your chlotes off”

“But Min, what if someone see us? We are in the parking lot at JYP” you said concerned a little. He just laugh at you saying:

“Let them, everyone needs to know who you belong to. You had to think about that before starting being a whore, yeah? Now put on a show for Binnie, I just text him to come bring me my bottle which I acidentally forgot, yeah kitten?”

Changbin

Changbin never gets mad at you, much of it is because the man loves and cherishes you with all his being.

Sex with him is always vanilla. Don't get me wrong, you love sex with him, he always makes sure you finish first, not just once, at least 3 times.

The thing is that once in a while, when you really piss him off, he fucks you hard, so hard you can't talk. That was his punishment.

Today you felt like he needed to fuck you that way, hard, so you made up a plan to piss him off, of course. Nothing piss Binnie off more than silence treatment. He’s the type of guy who wants to solve his problems with you, he can’t stand you not talking to him, so when he comes in your shared bed and asked you:

“What’s up, Jagi?” you didn’t respond to him. He tought that you didn’t hear him and tell you again:

“Jagiya, hello?”

But nothing. Silence. He started getting worried at first and asked you:

“Jagi what’s wrong, are you mad at me? I did something wrong?”

At that you just glanced at him and turn yourself on the other side, now your back facing him.

Changbin didn’t eat that at all, no. Instead he got mad, pulling you by your hand and turned you to face him telling you in his deepest voice:

“If you’re not gonna talk to me this won’t end well, Y/N. Tell me what is wrong so we can fix it or I’m gonna make sure you won’t walk for the rest of the week, cause I’m gonna fuck this attitude out of you”

You had him. You really had him. So in order for him to do what he told you he would do, you made a gesture you knew it’s gonna be the end for you. You just rolled your eyes, without saying a word.

Changbin was MAD. He pin your hands above your head and placed himself above you, looking strainght into your eyes, saying:

“When I ask you what color are you you’re gonna fucking tell me, understand?”

Fuck yes. You nod your head looking at him. At that he told you:

“Words, princess.”

“Yes, Bin”

He spanked you on your tights.

“That’s not my name, jagi. Tell me again, but use my name properly this time.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Atta girl.”

Hyunjin

Hyunjin was a hopeless romantic and you wouldn’t change that for the world. He called you his muse, the way he called you “baby” so sweet, with pure love in his eyes, he loved you endlessly and he’s convinced he can’t live without you.

But also, Hyunjin have a part in him that the world don’t see it, only you see it, when you’re being a brat. His punishments are just like Minho, hard but always end up with you squirting and in bed for at least 2 days, because you feel so sore.

Hyunjin it’s a person who gets angry easily. He have a temper so much like yours, the difference between you two is that he’s turning himself into a hard dom when he’s mad, something that you love with all your heart and pussy.

Today was one of that days when frustration got the best of you, he leave this morning and let you in your shared bed with the promise that he’ll come home as soon as you could, but the problem is you were horny. So, so horny. So you decided to take the problems in your hands and text him:

“Hyuneee, i need you so bad right now…”

You put your phone down and waited patienly on the sofa of your shared apartament for a reply. 2 minutes pass and you hear a notification on your phone, a text from your boyfriend:

“Baby I promise it’s not gonna take long, in max 2 hours I’m home, yeah sweets?”

You groan at his response, 2 hours it’s too long, so you text him back:

“But 2 hours are too long Jinnie, please, I can’t…”

He saw your message immediately, a sign that he is with his phone in his hands, so you text him another one:

“Shit daddy, I need you so bad rn”

He types. And stop. And types again. And stop again. It was agonizing to say at least. Finally, a message appear on your screen:

“Baby, i’m coming home as fast as I can. Don’t forget that you don’t have permission to play with yourself, don’t even think about touching your princess parts, yeah baby?”

At that a smirk appear on your face. You open the camera and record a video of yourself doing exactly what he told you not to, playing with yourself. You press send along with this message:

“But I can’t hold it daddy, ‘m so wet for you, please it hurts”

After 1 minute you saw that he was offline. Fucking prick, who does he think he is? Telling you to not play with yourself and after that ignoring you? No, you’re gonna show him that this time you make the rules.

You went into your bedroom and take the pink vibrator out of your nightstand, turning it on and place it on your clit, some of the tension starting to fade away.

You didn’t hear the door open, you were too lost into your own pleasure to hear your boyfriend coming in your bedroom, leaning against the door frame, looking at you.

After watching for a few seconds, you heard his voice clear when he said:

“What the fuck are you doing? I told you, you don’t have the permission to do that, why would you want to be a brat, today, hmm? You wanted me that badly, baby? You have me, but the moment I start to touch you don’t you dare to even think about cumming until I give you the permission, you hear me sweets?”

#skz #skz x reader #skz smut #stray kids #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin

[st4rr-girrl]

Replaced

The gang

Summary; everyone in the gang has gotten girlfriends, and now none of them have time for you. And it hurts your feelings, but you go out anyways. That results in you getting jumped, and then the gang feels guilty. But you blow up at them.

Side note; y’all y/n isn’t a pick-me I swear, she doesn’t get enough love at home so the gang is her only hope 😭😭

Warnings; , small angst, hurt & comfort, cussing, Fem reader.

“Hey Johnny, Ponyboy!” You smiled happily at your best friends.

“Hey Y/n.” They both said in sync, nonchalantly.

Your smile faded, before you forced yourself to smile again. “I’m heading down to the nightly double tonight. Any of y’all wanna tag along?” You asked, looking at the whole gang.

They all looked at you. “Sorry, Y/n. me and Johnny are going on a double date with our girls.” Ponyboy smirked proudly, punching Johnny’s shoulder lightly making him smirk as well.

“Us as well.” Soda said, pointing to himself, dally, two-bit, and Steve.

“Darry?” You looked at him with pleading eyes.

“I’ve got a broad too, Y/n. I’ll be busy.” He furrowed his brows.

“Y’all go off and get yourselves girls and then suddenly don’t got time for me??” You frowned. “We’re family, man. That just ain’t fair.”

“We’re sorry Y/n but our girls are important” soda started.

“And I’m not??” Tears welled up. “Whatever. I’m outta here. Let me know when I’m suddenly important to y’all again.” A tear fell, and you ran out of the house.

“She’s alright Ponyboy, Johnny, leave it alone. She’s just being dramatic.” Was the last thing you heard from Dally, making more tears fall.

You ran to the park. It was your comfort place.

You sat on the ground, next to the fountain. You wrapped your arms around your legs and sobbed into your knees.

This has been going on for weeks. Do they just not care about me anymore??

You sat at the fountain crying for hours. Then you realized it was getting dark.

Oh shit the movies gonna start soon.

You got up and wiped your tears. You started walking to the nightly double.

It was cold, so you were shivering.

Once you arrived at the nightly double, you hopped over the fence.

Oh god I really am a greaser.

You picked an empty chair, and sat in it to watch the movie.

You felt eyes on you, so your looked around. You caught a few socs staring at you, and you shifted uncomfortably.

I shouldn’tve come here alone.

You focused back on the movie, still on edge. You decided to keep your guard up just in case.

A little later, and the movie was about to end. You thought of just sneaking off early, and decided to do it.

You started off by walking, corner eyeing the group of drunk socs that kept eyeing you.

Once you hopped over the fence, you started running as fast as you could to the Curtis house, only going faster when you heard the socs running after you.

“Grease!!” You heard, before you were pushed against the wall of a near by building.

Fucking great. Because I really needed this right now.

One blonde soc pulled out a blade, whilst the others held you against the wall.

“Get off of me!!” You yelled, trying to wiggle out of there grip.

“No mercy for greasers, especially when they’re alone.” The blonde soc smirked.

Your eyes welled up with tears, not just because you were sad but because you were angry. Angry at the gang for letting you go out by yourself and replacing you.

“Please…” you whispered, as tears fell.

You started screaming as loud as you could, in hopes for someone to hear you.

“Shut her the fuck up!” The blonde soc whisper yelled.

A brunette soc shoved a cloth in your mouth.

The blonde soc lifted up your shirt so the side of your stomach was out.

He placed a blade against it, the cold contact making you shiver.

“Greasers deserve to be hurt. Greasers don’t even deserve to be alive.” The blonde soc widened his eyes, making him look insane as he slashed the side of your stomach. Blood immediately started pouring out of it.

You screamed into the cloth as loud as you can.

He pulled your shirt down, making you cry out from the uncomfortable injury being irritated.

He put the blade against your neck, accidentally slicing it in the process. He pulled it back, so it wasn’t in contact of your skin, and mimicked the motion you’d use to slit someone’s throat.

You shook your head furiously, trying to get everyone away from you.

The blonde soc nodded at the others, and they threw you to the ground.

They all took turns, kicking you.

You curled up into yourself and blocked your head for safety.

One last kick— it was definitely the hardest.

You sobbed out, and held that spot. There would be bruises all over you, but this one would definitely be the biggest. You’re probably gonna be so sore tomorrow.

The socs scattered once they were done with you, and you got up.

You were so weak that you could hardly stand, but you managed to start walk— limping to the Curtis house.

As soon as you saw the familiar fence, you tried to go faster. You realized your nose was leaking, and quickly figured out it was blood.

Probably from when they threw me across the fucking ground.

You opened the fence door and walked up to the front door, quickly realized the gang just got back home.

You opened the door, and invited yourself in. You took a deep breath and wiped the blood off your face, most of it just smudging.

“Hey guys.” You smiled, the smile not reaching your eyes.

“Y/n… what the fuck happened??” Dally asked, anger clear in his tone.

“I dunno. Ask the socs that beat my ass. Oh wait. I’m probably just being dramatic, right?” You shrugged, sarcasm present in your sentence as you hinted at the earlier conversation. Dally’s eyes widened in realization.

Tears welled up in your eyes, as you clutched your side. The one where you got sliced with a blade. It was still bleeding, and you were getting lightheaded.

You pulled your hands back, and they were now coated with crimson red.

You looked at the gang, and they all looked serious.

“Yknow what?” You said, about to pass out, “This is all your fault. If you weren’t all so occupied with excluding me in everything, I never would’ve went out by myself. And you can’t say I should’ve asked you to come with, because I did! This is all your guys’ fault!!” You started crying, collapsing on the floor in embarrassment. You felt so defeated.

“Y/n…” Johnny started. “We’re really really sorry.” He frowned.

“It’s fine, Johnny. I guess I’m just being sensitive. I get you guys have girls and I appreciate you treating them well. I guess I just felt a little replaced, because nobody even wanted to hang out with me anymore. And you wouldn’t even bring me along when you were all going out.” You sighed, wrapping your arms around your knees.

“No, Y/n. You’re our girl. We’re family, and we’d never wanna purposefully make you feel upset.” Dally frowned. “And I’m sorry ‘bout what I said. I didn’t think you’d hear it.”

“Oh it’s alright, Dally I know you didn’t mean it.” You wiped your tears, and took a deep breath. You got up slowly, groaning and bending over when you felt a sharp pain in your side.

“Y/n? Are you alright??” Johnny asked, concern plastered on his features.

“I-I don’t know…” you got light headed.

You felt your wound become wet, and realized it started bleeding again.

You touched it, and pulled you hand back. It was covered in blood.

“Did they pull a blade out on ya’, y/n?” Soda asked. You nodded gingerly, slowly lifting up your shirt to show the gash located on your side.

The gangs eyes widened. “That’s really bad, Y/n. Let’s treat it.” Ponyboy frowned, while soda lead you to the bathroom, the rest of the gang following to watch, or hand out outside of the bathroom waiting for you.

You sat on the counter, wincing while soda cleaned your wound.

“Hey, y/n?” Johnny spoke up.

“Yes, Johnny?” You looked at him.

“Im really sorry. Im sorry for not going with you. This wouldn’t have happened if I went with you..” Johnny looked at the floor.

“Johnny, it’s alright. I forgive you all. It’s not your fault anyways, I was being stupid. I shoulda just waited till’ you all got back.” You shrugged, smiling at all the boys. They smiled back.

“I love you guys.”

“We love you too, y/n”

#the outsiders dally #dally winston #the outsiders #the outsiders ponyboy #sodapop curtis #two bit mathews #two bit #the outsiders sodapop #darry curtis #johnny cade #the outsiders x reader #johnny cade x reader #ponyboy curtis #ponyboy x reader #johnny x reader #dally x reader #sodapop x reader #two bit x reader #steve randle x reader #darry x reader

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Holy fuck, yall. SO MUCH happened. Had to delete Tumblr for a day (or, as it turns out, like, 8) but I’m back!! Y’all get TWO parts today and then another in two days to keep us on schedule.

Part 1 | . . . | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27

Dinner is filled with raised voices, back and forth, thinking of and discarding plan after plan, until an agreement is reached. Joyce takes her kids home soon after, and helps ferry some of the other kids as well. Nancy takes Mike and Robin. Steve winks at Robin as she leaves, resulting in her sticking her tongue out at him.

Then it’s just Steve and Eddie, Alli having given Steve a look before taking her leave and heading upstairs to her room.

“So,” Eddie says with a grin, holding up his lunchbox.

Steve swallows the noise that wants to come out. “Please,” he says instead, leading the way to the back door before freezing just inside, realizing what had happened just a few days ago. “Um,” he says embarrassedly, “how do you feel about roofs?”

Eddie gives him an odd little look before replying. “In general?” He asks, though his smile reveals he knows what Steve means.

Steve chuckles. “Y’know what? If you have actual opinions, I want to hear them.”

“D’you know they’re made differently depending on where you are? Because the type of weather? They’re steeper here than in, say, Florida, ‘cause we get snow and Florida doesn’t, and snow is heavy and can cause your roof to cave in if too much settles on top. Also if you live in areas that get a lot of snow, don’t grow weed in your attic, ‘cause the heat will cause the snow to melt on just that one part of your roof.”

Steve blinks. “That’s… actually really interesting.”

Eddie grins. “Isn’t it?” His grin falls when Steve opens the door to his room. “Speak now or forever hold your peace, Stevie-boy, ‘cause I’ve got opinions on your room.”

Steve sighs. “I think I’ve probably heard it all before, but go right ahead. Surprise me. You’re good at that anyways.”

Eddie gives him another odd look before looking around. “Seriously, if you don’t want me to say anything, I won’t. I mean, it’ll be hard, but-”

Steve snorts. “No, go ahead, I wanna hear it.”

He wanders over to the desk, picks up the phone, and brings it to his ear before saying to Steve, “the seventies are calling. It wants…” he gestures around, “all of this back.”

Steve snorts, drawing a hand over his face to hold in a laugh. “That all you got?”

“Hey, that was a good one,” Eddie retorts, then looks around again as his smile falls. “I dunno, man. I get that I don’t really know you, but… this doesn’t really feel like you.” He tilts his head. “Besides maybe that car,” he gestures to the picture, “but… is that the stock photo?”

Steve hums. “Probably. My mom decorated it. I didn’t have much say. Well,” he considers, “any say, really.”

Eddie narrows his eyes. “Can I ask about them?”

“Who?”

“Your parents.”

“Oh.” Steve shrugs. “Sure. There’s not much to say. They’re not terrible, just… absent. I mean, my dad can be an asshole sometimes, but that’s just dads, right? But he’s always gone on business trips and my mom thinks he’s cheating on her—she’s probably not wrong, by the way—so she goes with him.”

Eddie blinks. “Your dad sounds like a dick.”

Steve snorts. “Well, his name is Richard.”

Eddie’s eyes light up. “His one redeeming feature.”

“His name?”

“Exactly what it says on the tin,” Eddie nods.

He’s so earnest, so ridiculous, Steve can’t hold back the laugh. He leads Eddie out onto the roof, extending him a hand as he crawls out the window and staying behind him as they crawl up, a misguided hope of being able to catch Eddie if he were to fall.

They make it up unscathed, however, and Steve watches as Eddie lights a pre-rolled blunt, taking the first drag and releasing it—and the tension in his shoulders—before handing it over to Steve, who inhales deeply before immediately coughing. “Fuck, man,” he says, laughing, “I forgot I haven’t smoked much yet.”

Eddie raises a brow. “Yeah? You do it a lot in four years?”

Steve shrugs. “Not a lot, maybe, but definitely more.”

Eddie hums in response before accepting the joint back. “So tell me,” he says after a few minutes. “We’re actually friends? Or ‘s this more of a keep your friends close and your enemies closer type thing?”

Steve huffs a laugh. “I can definitely see how you’d think that,” he admits. “But no, this is… it’s friends. We’re friends. Or I’d like to be, at least.”

Eddie grins at him. “You don’t seem too bad,” he teases. “I guess I could stand being friends with you.”

“Oh, well I’m so glad I meet your standards.” He grins lazily before taking another hit. “If it makes more sense to you this way, we can just say this is reason enough,” he says, holding the joint up. “Cause man, I tried another dealer, and I dunno what he had but it sure as hell wasn’t this.”

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#stranger things #if i should stay #steve harrington #eddie munson #eventual steddie #yall we’re getting SO CLOSE #I can’t wait for y’all to read what I’ve written #but I’m BEING GOOD and WAITING #bc ik if I don’t I’d post it all right now and then have nothing for y’all later #fix it fic #time travel #time travel fix it #starambles

[obsessedelusional]

the new recruit

paring ✦ Abby Anderson x fem!reader

summary ✦ You’re the new WLF recruit. Isaac makes it Abby’s responsibility to get you situated. Letting the both of you know, you’d be patrol partners and roommates. Abby’s immediate dislike for you is obvious. You don’t let that stop you from trying to get closer.

word count ✦ 3.3k

authors note ✦ Bro I have so much Abby content in the works I love this women with my whole heart (I need her) anyways… hope y’all enjoy

Feedback & Reblogs are helpful and extremely appreciated ♡

⊹ ꙳ ✦ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹

Abby was sat alone in her room, when there was a knock at door. She lets who ever is outside know they can come in. To her surprise it was Isaac, followed by an unfamiliar face. You’re stood there behind him, listening to him talk. Abby half hears what Isaac has to say, too busy admiring you. You’re blissfully unaware nodding along to Isaac’s instructions.

“This is our newest recruit. We picked her up on the north side of town. Her name is Y/N.” Isaac explains, you smile at Abby waving slightly when he introduces you. Abby smiles back, pretending to not look too interested.

“I want you to introduce her to everyone, get her situated. She’s going to be your roommate. Oh and you two will be patrolling together.” Isaac talks, before saying his goodbyes and leaving the two of you alone. Once he’s gone Abby continues to look at the new recruit, pretending to size you up when in reality she’s just checking you out.

Abby thinks you’re gorgeous. Too gorgeous. In the way that everyone’s eyes are gonna be on you. The thought made Abby’s heart sink, quickly pushing that away. She has a feeling that the guys at the base we’re going to be swooning over you, fighting for your attention. Abby didn’t want that but she’d never do anything to stop it. She’s just Abby after all, she thinks and you’re you. You’re drop dead gorgeous.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You finally speak, making Abby realize she was staring too long.

“It’s...nice...to meet you too,” she forces out. Deciding she should be nice enough to you, considering how much time you’ll be spending together. Co-workers and roommate. Abby turns her back to you.

—

The next few days seemed to be filled with awkwardness between the two of you. Your many attempts at being friendly with Abby always shut down. Abby was determined to be nothing more than your superior, teach you everything you need to know. That’s it.

She slowly started to grow a dislike for you. Abby felt as if she was being constantly outdone by you. With the way you laughed, walked, talked. Every little detail about you was perfect. Abby couldn’t tell if she was attracted to you or if she felt inferior. Or both?

One thing that Abby could not deny - you were a nice girl. You were friendly and tried to strike up conversations with her. But Abby never was in the mood to make a new friend. Pushing you away every chance she got. Growing irritated watching you fit in so easily with everyone on base. Making friends so simply. Something Abby struggled with. You ignore Abby’s constant criticism and shutting you down, trying everything to get her to open up.

“Hey Abby.” You smile, entering your shared room. Abby pretended as if she didn’t hear anything. Didn’t matter because you were now standing next to Abby’s desk inches away from her.

“What?” she asked finally, annoyed.

“Just came to see how you’re doing?” You ask, smiling.

“Just fine.” She stared at you blankly, a slight scowl on her face as she prays for you to leave. She had no intention of allowing you into her life anymore than she already had.

“Do you wanna get lunch together?” You ask, ignoring her obvious distaste for you. You watch as Abby thinks about it for a moment.

Abby rolled her eyes and looked up at you. “You know what, why not.”

“Cool.” You smile, leaving the room hoping that Abby would follow. She does.

As the two of you walk towards the mess hall. It was clear that Abby was not exactly thrilled to be there. Abby didn’t want to make friends, she barely wanted to be in your presence as it was. However, you were going to be living together, so she figured she may as well at least get to know you. Even if it pained her.

You both entered the mess hall together. You grab a plate of food for yourself as you scanned the hall. You take notice that nearly every soldier’s head turned towards them as you both walked in.

Abby could instantly tell that they all thought of you as the new chick on base. All desperate for a piece of your attention. The same couldn’t be said for Abby. She had been here since the war with the Scars started. Being the way she was, she often was alone going unnoticed.

You decide to sit at an empty table, wanting to give Abby you’re full attention. Hoping that made she’d talk to you about anything at this point. Abby slowly walked to the empty table and sat next to you. She did her best to contain her scowl as she took a seat next to you.

“Let me just say, I’m not one for small talk,” she said bluntly crushing your dreams of connecting to her. But you’re persistent, to the point of be annoying sometimes so you press the issue.

“Why not?” You ask. Abby stayed quiet for some time. For a moment, she considered not even answering.

“I prefer to focus on what I have to do rather than waste time on pointless conversations.” She sighs, as if the question was ridiculous. She takes a bite of her food when she’s done speaking.

“So what do you enjoy doing around here?” You ask, completely disregarding her obvious unwillingness to talk.

“Oh, I enjoy plenty of things. I enjoy being out on patrol and coming back exhausted but knowing that I did a good job. I enjoy the food these cooks prepare for us.” Abby said dryly.

“Is that all you enjoy? Do you ever do anything fun?” You ask, feeling bad for Abby’s sad outlook on life. Abby stayed silent as she thought about your question.

“Fun? Fun is not something that soldiers need to think about.” Abby responds. She was not against having some fun. But the idea of having fun in the middle of a warzone was completely foreign to her. She’d spent years trying to keep her mind on the mission and not get distracted by the little things.

“That’s not true at all. The other soldiers think about having fun. They’re having a party tonight. That’ll be fun.” You respond.

“A party?” She asks her tone filled with curiosity.

“Yeah. Like people getting together to drink, dance and talk. You should come.” You explain before extending the invitation.

Abby stayed quiet for a moment, her curiosity growing by the second. Manny and the other soldiers had metioned parties before but she never cared to go. But now that she had actually been invited by you, she seemed to be reconsidering her thoughts.

“I’ll come,” she finally spoke.

“It’ll be so fun.” You smile before telling her when and where the party would be at.

—

Soon, it was time for the party, and Abby found herself standing outside of the room where it was supposed to take place. She had taken her hair out of the braid she wore every day, letting it flow free. Wearing something other than her typical WLF uniform. She spent way too long deciding what to wear. Unsure what one even wears to a party. Only to end up wear jeans and a simple tshirt, hoping it was good enough.

Abby walked inside the room, already getting looks from nearly everyone there. Because no one was used to seeing her in this type of environment. Sure she was invited to every party before this but she never showed.

One person, however, caught her eye. You were standing near the food table. You were talking to several guys, each of which seemed to be hanging on your every word. She can’t control the eye roll that follows, seeing you surrounded by those men.

You look up from the conversation and your eyes meet Abby’s, you smile noticing her. She instantly felt that she had made a mistake by coming to this party. Abby walked through the crowd awkwardly, making her way towards you.

“Abby I’m so glad you came.” You smile grabbing Abby’s hand and walking away from the group of men. Using her arrival as the perfect excuse to get away from them.

Abby followed after you, her heart pounding heavily. You seemed to be in her element at this party, and it was clear that you was enjoying herself. As she looked around, it made Abby realize that she, on the other hand, was not having a good time. Thinking that the two of you couldn’t be more different.

“Thanks for the invite,” Abby finally says, trying to stay positive for your sake.

“I really am glad you showed up.” You respond.

“Thanks,” she says flatly. Abby forced a smile to her face, but she was unable to hide her awkwardness.

“Do you want a drink?”

“Sure.” Abby nods, “Whatever you’re having.” She was not a social person, and being in such a crowded space with everyone looking at her was making her feel incredibly uncomfortable. Wondering if they were looking at her or you? Or both? Probably wondering what you could possibly be doing here with Abby.

Her thoughts are cut short, when you hand her a drink. Not really sure what to do she takes a long swig, not liking the taste whatsoever. She looks around the room, everyone around her was laughing, dancing and having a good time. Yet, Abby still felt like this was the worst day of her life.

“You look miserable.” You tease, taking a sip out of your drink.

“I’m great. I’m having a fantastic time.” Abby fibs, not even trying to hide her lies. Her tone heavy with sarcasm.

She takes an unnecessarily large swig out of her drink. She was not sure how to act in front of these people at a party and it was stressing her out. She thinks about how you two seemed to be the polar opposite. You seemed to be the popular girl around here. Everyone was obsessed with you. Yet for some odd reason you were stood here with with Abby. She wonders why.

“You wanna dance?” You ask, interrupting Abby’s thoughts.

Abby had never danced in her life. In fact, for her entire life she had thought that dancing was a complete waste of time. But, now she realized that it was something she needed to do in order to at least pretend that she was enjoying herself. Or maybe it was the liquor in her system giving her a little confidence.

“Sure,” she finally spoke after what felt like an eternity.

Abby finished her drink and handed the empty cup to you. Then, she made her way to the dance floor. She looked back at you, waiting for you to join her. You quickly finish your drink, toss the evidence and follow Abby out onto the dance floor.

Abby awkwardly started dancing. The people around her seemed to be dancing with great enthusiasm, but she wasn’t able to do so. Her face was completely blank and even with you standing next to her, she didn’t know what to do.

She was always used to having the most strict routine in her life, always something she had to do. Dancing was just a waste of time in her eyes, and she had no idea why anyone would ever want to do it. She kept dancing, however, as she wanted to impress you at least a little bit.

You can’t help but laugh at Abby’s stiff dancing, so you grab her hands and move her around a little more freely. Abby felt her heart flutter for a moment as you grab her. It was a feeling that she hadn’t experienced before, and despite wanting to keep things strictly professional, she felt herself wanting more. As you continue dancing with Abby she starts feeling a lot more comfortable.

“See you’re a natural.” You laugh, as Abby starts to let loose a little.

Abby looked at you as you talked. She was actually having fun and it was all thanks to you. Abby was now even thinking about how she may of misjudged the new girl in her life.

“Yeah,” Abby replied, her heart beating quickly. “I guess you’re right.”

The upbeat song comes to and end and is followed up by a slow song. You and Abby look at each other momentarily both of you could sense the chemistry changing between you two. As the song starts, you move closer to Abby. Wrapping your arms around her shoulder, looking at Abby intently as you two start swaying back and forth slowly.

Abby’s hands naturally travel to your waist, eagerly pulling you closer. You were a lot closer to her than you have ever been before, causing Abby’s heart to beat even faster. Abby had hardly any experience with flirting or dancing, but everything about this felt right.

As she stared into your eyes, she suddenly had the urge to lean in and give you a kiss. But she doesn’t, knowing that it would be inappropriate due to the fact that she was your superior. You rest your head on her shoulder, dancing close together.

Abby’s heart was beating so quickly that she felt like it would beat out of her chest any second. Abby felt like her relationship with you was changing in more ways than one. She no longer hated you. Instead, she thought she might even like you. She can’t help but feel like maybe those thought had been here all along and was just now coming to the surface. Just for a moment Abby’s problems in life seemed to be far away. All she cared about was you and the way that you made her feel.

“You’re actually pretty good at this.” You tease, whispering in Abby’s ear. Abby suddenly could feel herself blushing. She could feel your warm breath on her ear.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” Abby replies. Your only response is to laugh, resuming the resting position on Abby’s shoulder.

Abby was lost in thought. She didn’t want to leave this moment. She knew that she wouldn’t get an opportunity like this again, and she finally understood why Manny was constantly trying to get a girlfriend. She could see why people sought out romance.

“I’ve actually never danced before,” Abby finally speaks.

“Why’s that?” You ask.

“Because I thought it was stupid and a waste of time. There was no point in dancing when I could be spending my time doing something productive.” Abby admits. It was so strange to say those words out loud. But, it was the truth and Abby didn’t want to hide anything anymore. She was tired of hiding who she was. Especially around you.

“Do you still think that?” You ask, lifting your head to look at her.

“No.” Abby’s answers quick. “I’m so glad you invited me tonight.”

“Me too.” You smile.

Abby couldn’t help but smile back. She felt a sense of warmth that she hadn’t ever felt before. She was completely out of her element, but that didn’t seem to matter at that moment. She only cared about how you were making her feel in this moment.

The two of you were completely wrapped up in the moment that when the music stopped, the reality of the world around you came crashing down. Abby couldn’t come up with something to say or what to do. Too caught up in the moment they both shared and not wanting it to end so soon.

“Do you want to get another drink?” You suggest, breaking the silence.

“Okay,” Abby said with a nod. She could help but want to be alone with you. She lets you lead her back to the kitchen where the drinks are. She watches and you dig through the ice chest, pulling out two drinks. Abby takes a sip, it tastes better the second time around.

“So…what should we do next?” Abby asks, feeling extremely lame as it comes out. Not sure how to keep this going but not wanting it to end yet.

“I don’t know. You have something in mind?” You ask with a smile, taking a sip.

“Uhhhh…I…guess…we…” Abby suddenly felt herself turn red as she tried to think of something. She didn’t want to leave your side. She wanted to get you alone but also didn’t want to go back to the room because it would be too awkward there.

Abby can’t get an answer out, your stood there patiently waiting. When a man fills the gap between you two, obviously drunk. The sigh that leaves your mouth is loud.

“Hey, I was just wondering if you wanted to comeback to my bunk?” He smiles, slurring reeking of beer. Moving way too close. Abby watches as the man approaches you and tries to flirt with you. Curious how’d you would react.

“No thank you.” You snap, pushing him away. Causing Abby to chuckle at the sight.

“Whatever fuck you.” He laughs stumbling away. You roll your eyes as he walks off. Abby admired the way you handled that, your ability to shut him down so effortlessly.

When you finally look back at Abby shes already staring at you. She wanted to get closer, to kiss you, and to express to her how deeply she felt so suddenly. But, that wasn’t appropriate given the fact that both of them were soldiers. Abby was starting to feel frustrated with herself. For caring about whatever everyone else thinks even at expense of what she wants.

“What are you thinking about?” You tease, moving a little closer grabbing Abby’s hand. Noticing Abby deep in thought as she looks at you.

She didn’t know how to respond. Scared to say out-loud how she truly felt. Instead, she just continued to stare at you. She was completely and utterly enthralled. She continued to hold your hand, hoping that her feelings would be transmitted through touch. You gaze goes from her eyes, to where your hands meet, and land on her lips. Darting back up to her eyes when she notices you looking at her lips.

Abby’s heart almost skipped a beat as your eyes focused on her lips. She could feel a heat rising throughout her whole body. She slowly leans in towards you. Slowly Abby closes the gap between you two, pressing her lips to yours. The feeling sent shivers down her spine and her heart raced even faster than it did before. She hadn’t felt this way in her entire life. She was completely and utterly lost in the sensation of your touch.

Your hands move to her head, pulling her in closer. Abby melted at the feeling of your warm hands on her face. She was completely lost in the moment, completely unaware of everything else. Everyone watching. She was too lost in the moment to realize. You’re the one to pull away, smiling as you do.

“Is that what you were thinking about?” You ask with a smirk. Abby hesitated before she finally spoke up.

“Yeah…that was actually what I was thinking about,” she quietly responded. The music starts again, you don’t even ask this time dragging about back out to the dance floor. The two of you start dancing again, only this time more touchy than before. Kisses shared between the two of you, every so often.

Every time your lips met, Abby felt a wave of emotions course through her body and her stomach would flip. She felt completely and utterly happy, completely consumed by the feeling of your lips on hers. Thrilled to spend the rest of the night with you, do whatever you wanted. She felt a little worried but excited because she realized quickly she’s probably going to spend the rest of her life letting you do whatever you want.

#abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x reader #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #the last of us #tlou2 #tlou #the last of us 2

[stardewstardropthoughts]

ahh imagine the bachelors when you’re pregnant talking to your belly to get the baby to calm down at night. like the baby likes to keep you awake at night by kicking you directly in the ribs and the only thing that works is your husbands voice.

I think shane would feel super awkward at first since hes not much of a talker anyway, but it becomes a cherished nightly routine for him in the last few weeks of your pregnancy “hello, papa shane reporting for duty, its time to chill out so your mother can get some sleep” and tell it chicken stories, elliott would read poetry and shakesphere, Alex would probably talk sports to it.

I would LOVE to hear your headcanons

Deadass sleeping while pregnant is so hard, and when the tiny child your growing rolls they’re whole body while your trying to sleep? It feels so weird 😂 also listen I know Skyrim isn’t in Stardew but I love it and I know Sebastian would also, lemme have this lmao

The bachelors talking to your baby bump to calm down your unborn child so you can sleep

Harvey:

Probably a bit nervous at first because he isn’t sure what to say

But when your having issues sleeping because your unborn child keeps kicking you as hard as they can he agrees to give it a shot

Gently lays his head on your bump

“Hey there little one, your moms out here trying her best to grow you and she needs to sleep to do that, think you might be able to settle down a bit?”

Is surprised when his voice seems to calm the unborn child down

Very quickly becomes his favorite part of the nightly routine

“Well hello in there tiny one, thank you for tuning into the nightly talk show. Today we’re gonna learn about you! That’s right, tonight’s broadcast is all about your growth”

Your giggling at his little radio show impersonation

Alex:

Ya know those TikTok videos of people doing little handshakes with their wife’s pregnant bellies and then when the baby’s born? He’s doing that, just wanted to add in that tid bit lol

He probably noticed you were having issues sleeping and he could see all the wild movements from the outside

Leans down and starts talking to the bump

“Hey kiddo, I know your doing your own thing in there but momma needs to sleep, whatcha need?”

When you tell him the baby calmed down after hearing his voice he’s thrilled

Will 100% explain the rules of gridby in depth to your unborn child

“Okay so if you wanna grow up big and strong like your daddy, your gonna have to have proper nutrition, lucky for you I have years experience”

Spends almost every night at bedtime telling your unborn child all about the farm and gridby and of-course rusty the dog

Sam:

Mans been talking to your baby way before they could hear or acknowledge him

He’s just so excited

“Hey little guy, mommy’s trying to sleep so we gotta calm down, I know you wanna shred but once your out I’ll teach ya to skateboard”

Definitely goes over skateboarding safety with your unborn child

“Sam he’s not even born yet”

“Okay but he’s gotta know how to grind the pipe baby, it’s a great skill”

100% also going to blow a raspberry on your bump to startle the baby cause it’s funny

Shane:

Dude definitely chats with your baby bump all the time

Especially when your cuddling so mostly at night when y’all are going to bed

Probably the reason the infant can’t stop kicking you without hearing from daddy first

“Hey kiddo, you’ll never guess what kinda antics the chickens got up to today, I can’t wait to introduce you to Charlie”

Definitely brought Charlie in the house once and put him on your bump

“Hey kiddo, this is Charlie, he’s my favorite chicken but don’t tell the others that”

You gently pat Charlie’s head while he looks very confused about the situati

Sebastian:

Mans fully prepared to teach your kid all about video games when Theyer old enough

But when they won’t stop kicking you at night unless he talks to them? Now they get to learn early

“So in Skyrim right? There’s a whole character builder and you get to pick what race you want to be, I always go for dark elf personally but you can be whatever you want”

It’s like two hours later, your asleep and he’s still going

“So when you get to white run you have to find the jarl and tell him about the dragons attacking helgen so he’ll send troops to riverwood and then there’s a whole side mission to go on to get the dragon stone and-“

Notices your soft snoring and chuckles to himself silently

“Okay kiddo, we’ll pick this up again tomorrow night, good night my little tadpole, love you”

Presses a little kiss to your bump before going to sleep

Elliott:

This mans been reading poems and story’s to your bump since he learned that baby’s can hear and recognize voices

It’s a nice little nightly routine, after baths and pjs and whatever snack your craving you both settle in and he grabs a book

Tonight’s book selection is the complete works of Edgar Allen Poe

“Alright little one, it’s story time”

Cozy’s up with his head on your bump

“Once upon a midnight dreary, as I pondered weak and weary over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore”

Loves knowing he can sooth the baby even before They’re born yet

Also loves knowing he can provide a bit more comfort to you as you grow them

#stardew fanfic #stardew valley #stardew farmer #stardew x reader #stardew headcanon #stardew marriage #stardew elliott #stardew harvey #stardew sam #stardew sebastian #stardew shane #stardew alex