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#He had a guitar but never had the time to teach me
gyubby99 · 6 months
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This song feels like a big warm hug 🥺
#this is the 3rd time i've watched it im sobbing#I lost my dad two years ago.#throughout my life he was the one showing me songs. He loved playing music on his computer#he encouraged me to sing#he recorded videos of me singing (i still have one of those recordings)#He had a guitar but never had the time to teach me#He was always so proud of me when i sang even tho looking back i kinda was just off key but i didnt care because I enjoyed it#It's like he was my biggest fan#my best friend even#Unfortunately I had to watch his cancer worsen#And eventually watch his body slowly give up.. from the moment i got to his room and he was having a seizure of some sort#Til' he couldn't wake up anymore#I could still picture his feet turning purple in my head#I used to be so outgoing but since then everything just changed#i became introverted#i learned to distract myself but i never learned how to heal#i became aloof.. distant and somewhat closeted#i didn't want anyone else's company but my own#i've gone through anxiety and had a few attacks#but although i was different.. i didn't change either#people kept telling me i was so caring.. i could fit the whole world in my heart#i understand what people go through although i cannot relate sometimes#The pain is alike#i try my best to atleast help those people in pain#i stopped singing at parties and anywhere with karaoke in it#Because even though there are still people who support me.. it's not the same.#I didn't have my first best friend. My first biggest fan.#it's not like hes a perfect father either.. he has his issues.. but i've never smiled or laughed that hard with anyone else#i've grown so distant with people.. especially my mother#the way suzu declines her dad's offers.. i find some resemblance with myself
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necromancy-savant · 5 months
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re: your tags on that post about the overlap between conservative christianity and certain queer activist spaces, have you ever heard of messianic judaism and are you sure that’s not what you were raised? they’re basically christians who pretend to be jews
(if you find this an inappropriate feel free to just ignore me, i don’t mean to pry, just to open you up to possibilities)
Yes, I have! And weirdly, I was told to be wary of them and that they're not Jewish at all. My dad at least had the sense to know that. We were just very Reform, and while I don't want to say anything about the Reform movement as a whole, at this particular synagogue it felt, to me personally, too laid back for me to feel like anyone was taking it seriously or respected the congregation's intelligence it
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aethelwyneleigh27 · 3 months
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Baby fever Scenarios and Headcanons with Husband!Simon "Ghost" Riley (Ghostie)
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Thank my baby godson for this one, if it hadn't been for him having me take care of him for the whole day then I wouldn't have anything to write because as of now I have no motivation or ideas to continue my past wips. Render credits are all to the lovely @ave661 who keeps feeding us. My little godson still sleeping on my chest, drool, snore and all as I'm writing this. I can't move, please send help. This is so short too, sorry to disappoint you guys 😭
Y'all CANNOT tell me I'm the only one who thinks of Simon "Ghost" Riley having baby fever from his own children (I would give him more, all he needs to do is ask 😭). Also these are basically moments of Simon with Ghostie, just a bit more general in terms of the baby's gender since some of y'all want boy!dad Simon but originally Ghostie is a girl.
My CoD Masterlist
Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thesnowurzikdjinn @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @cutenote @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @trepaika @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld
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❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who loves to toss the baby up in the air, simply just for amusement and both of them needed entertainment. Safe to say Soap never did that until the little one was a lot older because when he did it, he ended up with a glob of drool on his face.
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❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who is always so vocal with his baby, you could just tell the influence of him talking to the baby. Just the rumble of his voice sends the tiny one into a fit of giggles while they're on his chest.
❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who was influenced by you to do that viral thing on the internet, people throwing a slice of cheese on their crying baby to make them stop. It worked and they ate it.. now he keeps the fridge stocked with sliced cheese for that reason.
❥ Babyfever!Husband!Simon who was determined to assemble everything, baby's crib, the car seat.. though the bottle sterilizer was something he needed your help with. Both of you trying to figure where the missing piece went only to find your little one chewing on it.
❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who comes home late at night yet his little one follows him like a mother duck, as much as he wants to, Simon refused to have contact until he's out and squeaky clean from a shower. Always worrying about how they might catch something from outside while the little one is directly outside the bathroom door waiting for their dad and peeking from the little space underneath the door, knocking every 3 minutes for dada to come out.
❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who has the time of his life teaching the baby CPR, it started as a joke between the 141 and now your baby knows the word and knows what to do in response to it, the bunny stuffie is the one receiving the medical attention with the little crisp giggle after Simon praises them.
❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who you find laughing his ass off at Soap who was forced by the puppy eyes of your little one to wear a pink tutu that was on the verge of breaking from his size, glittered fairy wings that were made of wire and horrid quality of pink mesh fabric, a plastic tiara and a light up fairy wand. They forced him to do ballet. (Gaz definitely had that as his phone's wallpaper for a month)
❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who love cherishing little moments of how the world reminds him of how naive, dumb and gullible his little one could be. Having a leash kid yet for a completely different reason from misbehaving and being too hyperactive. Walking on a bridge with him over a river as a little family outing at the park when your little one pointed at the aggressive stream of water underneath, Simon jokingly asking them if they want to be tossed in and without a word they turn to you with their arms up and wiggling for uppies. When that didn't work they turned to their dad doing the same thing, making Simon chuckle so much that he almost coughed as they slowly let their arms drape back down to their sides, little pout in disappointment. You playfully glared at your husband, having to explain to a toddler why they can't swim in a strong stream of dirty water.
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❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who is very much amused about how the baby likes his stuble, hoping he won't cause a rash to them because of how much they press their face into his. He makes sure it's extremely well kept after the very first time it happened 😭.
❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who loves seeing his toddler in their sleep shirt which is basically just his shirt drooping on the floor because it's too big for them but the they're chunky enough to keep it on themselves. Just thinking of Simon hearing the loud stomps of footsteps approving their bedroom, the short pause of silence before the frantic sound of the door knob jingling, he always knew who was about to enter the room. Holding their bunny stuffie while pulling on the blanket of their dad's side of the bed to ask him for help to climb up.
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lagomoz · 5 months
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Proseka headcanons
-as rui’s childhood friend, nene has extensive fire safety knowledge
-shizuku is adopted, hence why she looks so different from shiho. she was adopted shortly before the moon rabbit event and it contributed to her clinginess
-shiho forgets this fact sometimes. she’ll casually mention something like shizuku got all mom’s good genes so unfair and ichika has to be. um. shiho
-kanade is mildly nearsighted/myopic but spends so much time at her computer she hasn’t noticed
-emu is buff. she climbs multiple stories without breaking a sweat and is canonically part of the swimming, handball and rhythmic gymnastic clubs, you can’t tell me she doesn’t have some muscle
-saki helps out as a human notepad for tsukasa, reminding of him things he would otherwise forget within 5 minutes
-the vocaloids also help. at first it was unnerving to have hatsune miku be an extension of his psyche that knows his darkest secret (stole saki’s candy when he was 6) but now his phone has a more reliable catgirl themed reminder system
-you know that classic nightmare of leaving the house without pants? tsukasa has legitimately done that as a kid. he forgor. (saki will never let him live it down)
-in the kamiyama student council/hall monitor room, an has put up at sign saying “_ days since last kamishiro incident”
-the shinonome siblings both figured out the other one was gay before they figured it out about themselves
-airi’s great at trivia from her time as a variety show star. she still can’t beat minori at idol trivia, though
-ena keeps a diary with fort knox level security. try to read it and you’ll lose a finger
-saki learned to crochet from the old ladies in the hospital
-shiho’s most treasured phenny is a somewhat lumpy crocheted phenny holding a very lumpy crocheted bass guitar
-tsukasa snores. he falls asleep in 10 seconds and sounds like a dying lawnmower
-mizuki has learned a small bit of french from their sister and uses it exclusively to teach rui and an how to swear in french
-emu still celebrates her grandfather’s birthday, even if he’s not there to celebrate with her
-ena is allergic to dogs, the middle point to airi’s cat allergy and akito’s dog phobia
-rui has various small scars from his experiments over the years, but nobody ever believes the real causes (rocket launcher, robot bite, exploding balloon animal, etc.) so he just makes up a new cause every time someone asks
-mmj! has had repeated incidents of minori and airi’s little siblings walking into frame when streaming at their houses. shiho understands the concept of a livestream but has still been caught failing at creeping past like that one new broadcast of the guy crawling along the floor
-kanade has pots & eds, this one I have a reason for look at her symptoms. chronic exhaustion, heat and cold intolerance, comorbid sleep issues and depression, dizziness when standing up, fainting after standing up, very pale skin, family history of medical issues, pain at normal physical activities, exercise intolerance, vertigo at mild exertion, she just fucking dies during the entire baseball event, I could go on. she canonically gets pain in her hands from opening a jar girl that is not just being out of shape that is physical disability. this one I will go conspiracy board on listen to me I’m right
-kohane ate bugs as a kid. an is horrified, toya is confused, akito is impressed
-ena and airi got in trouble in middle school because they’d keep starting fist fights in defense of the others honor. if they saw the other in a fight they’d jump in guns blazing no hesitation no questions ask ready to throw the fuck down
-vbs!rin and len were given a skateboard by an and then promptly had the skateboard confiscated by meiko for property destruction
-haruka is horrible with slang. she asks the stream chat what poggers means and immediately uses it completely wrong, killing all viewers on impact
-minori is torn between thinking it’s cute and wanting to die
-toya has been banned from arcades before because he made them lose too much money/they suspected he was cheating
-ena brought kanade over for girls night and nearly scared akito half to death because he went down to get a late night snack and there was some Ghastly Creature looming in his kitchen
-kohane's parents stick out like a sore thumb when going to her live shows. it mortifies her that everyone on vivid street can recognize them as the only milquetoast middle aged couple dressed in normal clothes loudly going YOU'RE DOING GREAT SWEETIE that don't know the first thing about music
-minori knows basic programming. she mostly uses it for forums, blogs, html, other web design things usually related to idols as a hobby, but she's become the groups designated anti-shizuku tech support
-mafuyu has always been able to see ghosts but after adults figured she was just playing pretend as a kid so she shrugged and figured it was normal and not worth bringing up again
-honami has one of those massive extended families and somehow keeps track of them all. at any given time cousin #57 can crawl out of the woodwork and she remembers their new job, favorite food, past three romantic relationships and list of allergic reactions
-mizuki does doll customizing as a hobby. they prefer making human sized clothes, but it's fun to make them miniature too. they've introduced shizuku to it and she loves it, but doesn't have the heart to do anything that would hurt the doll (sawing limbs off, dunking them in boiling water, shoving wires in them, etc.)
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alexsoenomel · 4 months
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Random Joel Miller Headcanons:
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Joel was an early bird, always had been, so naturally he would wake up before you to make breakfast and coffee.
He liked taking care of you. He was a man of a few words; didn't say much, but his actions spoke louder than words.
He liked when you would play with his hair whenever he couldn't sleep and you liked the way his soft gray locks felt between your fingers.
He was not the one to tell you what to do, but he would sometimes get very protective, like a guard dog, to the point where he would forget you were in fact an adult. He would try to control you, tell you what you can and can't do, but it never worked with you. It would always end with you telling him to fuck off.
Joel loved teaching you how to play guitar. He loved watching you as you would get lost and bit your lower lip as you tried to play a simple note. He thought you were cute whenever you would get frustrated.
Bickering, lots and lots of bickering. He was twice your age and you enjoyed reminding him of that.
"Not bad for a man in his 70s," you told him once, panting and covered in sweat after multiple orgasms he gave you.
"I'm 56, dumbass," he told you, trying to catch his breath.
"Perv," you teased.
"Oh, fuck off."
He would wake up in the morning because of you, he would try to live and not just survive because of you. Everything he would now do, he would do it because of you.
You loved to snuggle with him, especially during winter, because that man was a walking, taking heather.
Music. He loved sharing his favorite songs with you. You loved how excited he would get, when you actually knew the song.
Showering together; the purest form of intimacy. You loved washing his hair and he loved washing yours. He loved feeling your body under his rough fingertips.
Night drives. You loved watching him drive and the silence of the night, so every once in a while you would go on a drive in the middle of the night, listening to music, eating junk food under the stars, or you would pull over to the side of the road and fuck. Handprints all over foggy windows were a regular occurrence.
Animalistic sex. He loved making you scream in pleasure to the point where you couldn't take it anymore. He loved making you his in every position, location and at any given time. Biting, sucking, scratching -- he loved everything. Age was just a number in his ID; that man fucked like he was in his 20s.
He loved hearing you whimper and fall apart under him. He loved the way you would forget everything but the sound of his name whenever he would fuck you.
Slow sensual sex. Even though he loved fucking you senseless he also loved making love to you. He loved worshipping every inch of your body, taking his sweet time, teasing you until you couldn't take it anymore. He loved the way you would look at him. He was aware how much he was loved by you, but still thought he didn't deserve it.
Kissing. That man loved to kiss. Your neck was his favorite spot. You loved to bite his lower lip, just to tease him, since he would always get hard from it. He loved the way you would play with his lip between your teeth.
"Stop biting me, we are in public."
"Make me."
The first time he told you he loved you was in the bedroom. His guard was down, he was pounding in and out of you slowly as you were digging your nails into his shoulder blades. He still had no idea why he said it, but there was something about you that day. You were completely lost in him, telling him how good he was, how handsome he looked and how he made you feel so so good. He couldn't help himself. He whispered a soft I love you into your ear before you came, moaning his name over and over. "I love you too, handsome," you told him before kissing him. He would never forget it.
Enjoy me being delulu y 'all. Still struggling to write and feeling like shit. Hopefully it will pass soon, it's quite annoying.
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turvi · 10 months
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Hi! Shortcake here, i j wanted 2 request a rodrick x sweet reader, the kinda girl that rlly enjoys pink and skirts and things like that. Ty, have a nice day! <3
First of all, love the nickname..second thanks for the request. I hope you like this.
"Rodrick, don't blink."
"Because you are literally poking my eyes with your finger," Rodrick argued. He had agreed to let Y/n do his makeup today. He was amazed at the amount of makeup she had and was just ready to be her guinea pig.
"I'm being very gentle Rodrick, if you could just stay still then my fingers won't poke you."
He melted at her sweet voice. His eyes fluttered at her gentle touch. They were so different yet they were made for each other. He smirked as an idea crossed his mind. "You wanna use glitter next?"
Y/n gasped "Would you let me?"
Rodrick just wanted to smush her cheeks and kiss all over her face. She looked extra cute today in her all-pink attire and a matching hairband. "Of course, I would." He took out the glitter pouch from her hot pink makeup kit and handed it to her.
Rodrick couldn't help but love her more as she giggled and started applying glitter to his cheeks.
She gasped "Oh my gosh Rodrick you look so pretty."
Rodrick smushed her cheeks and smacked kisses across her blushing cheeks. "Thank you lovie."
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The next day Rodrick would glare at anyone who even tried to make a sound when they saw Rodrick in full makeup. He has always been protective of Y/n's feelings since day one.
The boys in school who called her childish and pretentious for her all-pink attire would don a purple bruise on their faces the next day.
When Rodrick volunteered to teach Y/n to play the drums he painted his spare drumsticks pink, and when she found out she kissed him until his cheeks turned to her favourite colour.
He somehow convinced Susan to get him a pair of pink socks so he could match with Y/n when she wore her own pair of pink socks.
Sure her pink aesthetic clashed with his emo aesthetic, but nothing makes him happier than seeing his girl happy when they match.
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Once Rodrick had visited her home and he was genuinely impressed how she managed to get everything in pink and still make her room look good.
All her shampoos, her dresses and even her pillow were in various shades of pink. Rodrick nicknamed her doll because she resembled a Barbie doll. He even managed to get her a Barbie doll at Christmas that he claimed looked like her. In return, she dressed up her Ken like him, and he made sure she placed it next to her Barbie doll.
Every time he would visit her he would first make sure his Ken doll is with her Barbie doll.
Rodrick started collecting random things just because they are pink-coloured. Movie tickets, guitar picks, flowers, bottle lids etc. He would collect them and give them to Y/n the next time they meet.
He never thought he would like the colour so much, but he would bring all the pinks in the world to her just to see her smile.
A/N: REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED IF YOU LIKE THIS.
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entitled-fangirl · 2 months
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Two idiots in love. (P12)
Joel Miller x anemic!reader
Summary: The reader wakes up and Joel is there to comfort her.
Warnings: ptsd, depression, brief mention of rape, panic attacks
Masterlist
Part 1 and 13
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Joel was grateful that he didn't have to deal with snow anymore.
Y/N had been asleep for almost 48 hours now, and he was beginning to worry.
To give everyone a break, they hid in an abandoned RV.
Just until she could wake.
Joel stepped outside to talk to Ellie, who was sitting on a truck bed nearby.
"Ellie! I found this in there! Beefaroni. Chef Boyardee." And he held up the can like a kid on Christmas.
Ellie nodded, "Okay. Cool. Probably won't be as good when you cook it."
They both laughed, but those laughs turned serious as they both remembered Y/N.
Joel was startled by the loud gasp of air that came from the RV couch.
He quickly kneeled next to the couch that held Y/N. He took her head in the hands gently, "Y/N….? You awake?"
Her eyes opened just barely.
Joel let out a breath of relief, "Oh, sweet girl!" 
She let out a whimper and squirmed in his hold, "D…stop… stop, please…"
Joel wanted to cry at the lack of strength she had left.
"Y/N. It's me…"
His words did nothing to soothe her.
Her hands came up to grab his, "I didn't do anything… please…"
Joel immediately let her go to give her space, letting his hand move away from her face and rest at her waist.
But this only made things worse.
"DON'T TOUCH ME!" She clawed at his hands in a desperate attempt to free herself from him.
Joel grabbed her face again, determined to let her recognize him. He pulled her face close to his and let his voice relax, "Y/N, you sweet, sweet woman. Please look at me. It's me. It's Joel."
She simply stared in fear.
He had seen her be scared many times, but never had she looked so terrified.
And it was from him.
"You know me." Joel tried to reason.
She cried out as she studied his face. A look of recognition crossed her features. "I… J…Joel? JOEL?!"
He smiled with a laugh, "Yeah! You're safe, honey…"
She jumped into his arms, crying into his shoulder. 
He held her tightly, letting his arms wrap around her shaking frame.
He kissed the side of her head in relief, letting his eyes close to enjoy the moment while he had it.
"You okay, sweet girl?" He asked softly.
She pulled away just enough to look him in the eyes, "Is Ellie o…okay?"
Joel smiled and gently wiped at her tear-stained face, "Yes. You protected her. She's just fine. You need to tell me about you."
She shook her head, "'M fine."
Joel shook his head, "No. You need to be honest with me. I need to know what happened in there."
She sniffled, shaking her head as well.
Joel sighed in frustration.
He watched her eyes fill with tears again at his sigh. "Oh, honey. I didn't mean to-"
"-Plea…please don't hurt me, Joel…"
"W…what? Y/N, I'm not gonna hurt you."
She was insistent, "p..promise me?"
He nodded without thought. "I'd promise you anything you wanted. You know that."
She seemed to accept his words.
But Joel saw the way the shine in her eyes dulled away.
"They had a guitar in that RV," Joel stated as they walked, "It was all smashed up but got me thinkin'. Maybe I should find one. I haven't played in forever."
Ellie nodded, following along with his trail of thoughts.
"In fact," he continued, "I was thinking maybe I could teach you. I bet you'd be great at it. Do you wanna learn how to play guitar?"
But she had turned her attention to Y/N, who walked on the other side of Joel like a skeleton that hadn't seen daylight.
Y/N was slowly turning into a shell.
"…Ellie?" Joel questioned.
"Oh, yeah. That sounds really cool." She nodded. 
The three continued to walk. The man and girl occasionally threw worried looks at the other for the woman.
But neither of them knew what to do.
"I get you up there, you can drop that ladder down, maybe we go through that way. C'mon, I'll give you a boost."
But Ellie was distracted again.
Joel approached her again, following her eye line to see her staring at Y/N again.
The woman was sat on a crate nearby. 
Her eyes never left Joel's frame, despite the empty look in her eyes. 
Only then did Joel notice the hollowness of her cheeks.
The dark bags under her eyes.
The constant shivering of her entire body despite being fully dressed in 80 degree weather.
She hadn't spoken since the initial moment with him in the RV.
And that was a few days ago.
Ellie turned, "Boost. Got it."
When Joel moved to boost Ellie up, he saw Y/N slowly stand. He stopped her, "Hey, honey. You stay there. Just a minute."
When she said nothing, he took that as an answer.
He boosted Ellie up with relative ease.
She picked up the ladder, but got distracted and dropped it, "Woah…"
It crashed on the floor loudly, making Y/N flinch terribly.
"Goddammit, Ellie!" Joel grumbled.
He turned back to his woman, "Sweet girl?"
She said nothing, her gaze already on him. 
"Let's go up, yeah? Can we do that?"
She let out a soft sigh and stood.
It took the two a while to catch up to Ellie, but when they did, they were in awe.
Well, Joel was.
A giraffe at eye level.
He turned back to Y/N, "C'mon." And he offered his hand to her.
But she only stared at it.
He sighed and nodded, walking to Ellie alone.
Y/N watched from behind as they began to feed it.
She had been fighting with her mind.
She looked at the two in front of her. Her family. She knows them. She knows she does. She feels safe with them, but her mind only replays David's words and actions in her head.
And she was scared that he was right.
The giraffe began to walk away, and Ellie was determined to follow it. "C'mon, c'mon!" 
Joel sighed and turned to follow her, walking to Y/N. He offered his hand once more.
She stared at it.
Then slowly took it.
Joel smiled as their fingers intertwined carefully.
The three stood on a balcony, taking in the fresh air.
Y/N sat on the opposite end, needing some time to herself.
"Look," Joel sighed at Ellie, "I don't know where this hospital is-"
"We'll find it."
"Sure," he nods, "It's just… Maybe there's nothing bad out there, but so far, there's always been something bad out there… We don't have to do this. I just want you to know that."
Ellie scoffed, "What do you mean? What else are we supposed to do?"
"Nothing. We go back to Tommy's. We forget about the whole damn thing."
Ellie stared at him in disbelief, "After everything we've been through. Everything I've done… What Y/N did… It can't be for nothing."
Joel felt his jaw clench in thought.
"I know you mean well," Ellie smiled, "I know you wanna protect me. You have. And when we're done, we'll go wherever you want. Tommy's, sheep ranch, the moon… I'll follow you anywhere you go."
Joel laughed under his breath.
"But," she continued, "There's no halfway with this. We finish what we start."
He finally nodded, "Alright."
"And," Ellie pointed at him, "When were you going to tell her about her son?"
Joel froze, "…w…what?"
"I read the note, Joel. I know."
He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, "I will. I was gonna. But… I can't tell her anytime soon. Not in her state."
Ellie nodded.
"Tell me, Ellie… what do you think happened to her exactly?"
The girl sighed, "Joel, you know what probably happened. You're not stupid."
He nodded. "Guess I was just hoping you'd have something positive to say."
She gave a sad smile, "Not about this."
Joel let his eyes wander over to Y/N's meek frame.
The things he would do for her.
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Tags: @lover-of-books-and-tea, @pedropascalfan221, @lottieellz101, @bambisweethearts, @hiroikegawa, @elliaze, @littleshadow17, @n7cje, @ashleyfilm, @darling-imobsessed
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corroded-hellfire · 1 year
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Jack & Coke - Eddie Munson x Reader
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Collaboration with my darling @munson-blurbs
Summary: When your best friend Eddie betrays you, you head to The Hideout for a drink—and maybe something more.
Note: This is what comes from late night conversations and texts that say “I had another angsty eddie thought.”
Warnings: angst, family issues, smut, p in v, age gap but both parties are well over 18, oral, m receiving
Words: 4.8k
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“And then you put your middle finger riiiiight here,” Eddie explains patiently, tongue slightly poking out of his mouth as he adjusts your grip on the guitar neck. “Perfect. Now, give a little strum.”
The A-chord doesn’t sound as good as when he plays it, but it’s an improvement since you’d started this impromptu lesson half an hour ago.The fact that butterflies flapped their wings in your stomach every time he touched you didn’t help your concentration, either. 
“I still like it better when you play,” you tell him shyly, lifting the guitar and handing it back to him. “You’re, like, a natural-born rockstar.”
Eddie grins, leaning back against your bed. “Yeah, well, you can’t teach this kind of bad-assery,” he teases, booping you on the nose playfully and inadvertently sending a shockwave of shivers down your spine.
You’re about to muster up the courage to nudge him back when you hear the front door open.
“I’m home!” Andrea shouts obnoxiously, making you roll your eyes. You miss the initial flash of fear that washes over your best friend’s face, mistaking his grimace for a mutual dislike of your older sister.
You know that everyone has issues with their siblings; even ones that are close-knit still have their share of rivalries. But your relationship with Andrea goes beyond the usual bickering. Since you were very young, Andrea has bullied and tormented you incessantly. As kids, Andrea would break her old toys and tell your parents that you did it, that way they would buy her newer and better toys. From the moment that Andrea hit puberty, she was the “hot one.” Never mind not being the “pretty sister,” you had to deal with being invisible because all eyes were glued to Andrea. Then you practically were invisible when you started high school and Andrea pretended she didn’t even know you. It didn’t matter that you’d never ratted her out for all the times she snuck out of the house after your parents went to sleep. But any little thing you did wrong, Andrea went straight to your parents and snitched. It probably wouldn’t have mattered if you squealed on your sister anyway since she was quite obviously your parents’ favorite.
When boys did talk to you, it was because they wanted to get to your sister. Some of them thought treating the little sister as a charity case would get them into Andrea’s pants. The only time it was ever different was when Eddie Munson started talking to you your freshman year. He plopped down next to you at your lunch table and started talking to you about the copy of The Hobbit you had been reading. At first you thought this was another ploy to get to Andrea through you, but the longer he talked about things far nerdier than the book in your hands, you figured this guy might actually just want to talk to you. It was an odd and gratifying feeling. The first time you’d mentioned that you were Andrea’s sister, Eddie actually seemed surprised. “You two share blood?” he said. “She’s a goddamn tornado that destroys everything in its path. And you…you’re like a rainbow.” It’s the greatest compliment you’ve ever gotten. 
As your friendship with Eddie grew, you began to tell him more about how Andrea treated you. How she’d hurl the meanest, most vile words your way with no provocation. You didn’t need to provoke Andrea, she was constantly on the offensive. “Why does she treat me like shit all the time?” you’d ask, and Eddie would reply, “She doesn’t need a reason. There’s just venom in her blood.” 
Andrea was the walking embodiment of those luminescent fish that were so beautiful and shiny on the outside, only to lure the smaller, weaker fish in so that it could crush them. Her jet black hair was always shiny and never a strand was out of place. No blemish ever dared to appear on her skin, leaving her with the smoothest, most glowing complexion. Her curves seemed to be perfectly sculpted, defying anyone to not look at her and either want to be her or want to be with her. Obviously, it was impossible for you to keep up with her current flavor of the week. 
“Are you going to play for me?” you ask as Eddie just sits with the guitar in his lap. You scoot until your thigh is pressed up against his. It would be so easy to tilt your head and rest it on his shoulder. The comforting scent of cigarettes, Old Spice deodorant, and a hint of weed floods your senses as you try to be as close to him as you can—without being creepy about it, you remind yourself. 
“I, um,” Eddie mumbles, his eyes watching your bedroom door intently. “I thought you said your sister wasn’t going to be home?”
“I didn’t think she was,” you say with a shrug. “But you know Andrea, she does whatever the hell she wants. Maybe she met her quota for making children cry today and decided to come home early.” 
Eddie nods and looks back down to the guitar in his lap. He swallows so loud that you’re able to hear it, which has you raising your eyebrows. 
“Look, I know she’s demonic,” you say. “But she probably doesn’t even know we’re in here. Besides, if she was going to torture someone, it would be me, not you.”
“I don’t want her to hurt you. I’d rather she hurt me, actually,” Eddie says, still looking down at the guitar in his lap. More words rest on the tip of his tongue, but the bedroom door flying open stops him. 
“I said, I’m—oh, hi, Eddie,” she trills, giving a tiny wave. “Come back for round two?”
Round two? You glance over at Eddie, waiting for an explanation, but he just turns beet red and sheepishly drops his gaze. 
Andrea takes in the puzzled look on your face and laughs harshly. “Aw, did your best friend not tell you?” There’s nothing but malice in her tone, and you feel like a rock landed in your lower abdomen. “Well, let me fill you in.”
“N-No, I should…” Eddie starts, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “I swung by yesterday…I forgot you’d picked up that extra shift…”
Andrea rolls her eyes impatiently. “Write a goddamn novel, why don’t you?” she snaps. “I’ll summarize: you weren’t home, I was, and Eddie and I hooked up.”
“H-Hooked up?” The butterflies now have lead wings, and you feel the bile rising in your throat. 
“We slept together,” Eddie clarifies softly at the same time that Andrea quips, “we fucked.”
You try to blink back the tears that mist over your eyes. Your sister knows how you feel about Eddie; you weren’t naïve enough to tell her, she snooped through your diary and has been teasing you about it ever since. And while Eddie has no idea about the massive crush you’ve been harboring, he certainly is aware of how awful your sister is. His betrayal stings one thousand times worse. 
“Your bed is really great for sex,” Andrea sneers as you stumble to your feet. “Not that you’d know.”
This has to be a nightmare. You’re going to wake up at any moment, and the idea of Eddie and Andrea sleeping together will be a figment of your overactive imagination. It has to be, there’s no other explanation. But when you glance down at Eddie and see the shame that fills his face, you know. It’s real. Your best friend betrayed you in possibly the worst way he could have done so. All to get his dick wet.
“What the fuck?” It’s all that you can get out of your mouth. You suddenly feel like you’ve run ten miles. You’re lightheaded, your pulse is racing, and sweat is beginning to break out along your hairline. Eddie sets the guitar down and stands up. He reaches for you and you flinch away and pull back from him. The look of hurt that flashes in his eyes would normally make you want to wrap him up in your arms. But now? Now that you know that he fucked your sister in your bed, you don’t want him to ever touch you again. 
“Sweetheart, I’m—”
“Don’t you fucking call me that,” you snap. Looking past him, you can see your sister’s face is full of glee as a self-satisfied smirk settles on her lips. “What was in it for you, huh? Just to hurt me?”
Andrea scoffs and brings a hand up to her chest, reminding you of a southern belle clutching her pearls. “Are you insinuating that I don’t have feelings for dear Edward?”
Eddie rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. Yeah, Eddie, you want to say, that’s the girl you slept with. 
“I would never insinuate that you have any feelings at all. Pretty sure you were born with a lump of coal in your chest instead of a heart. Come here, I’ll stab you with my letter opener and we’ll see the black blood come fucking rushing out,” you seethe. 
“Always so dramatic,” Andrea says with a sigh. “That must be why Eddie doesn’t reciprocate the silly little crush you have on him.”
Eddie’s eyes snap to you, and at any other time, you would’ve said him finding out is the worst possible thing to happen to you. But that’s been usurped now, so you really don’t care how he’s going to react. 
“Must be,” you retort, “or maybe he’s only into psycho bitches.” Clenching your fists, you turn to face Eddie. “I hope her pussy was worth it.” You storm over to your bedroom door, pushing past the both of them. Before you leave, you spin around to face the traitors. “I never want to see either of you again.” You don’t wait for either to respond; you just grab your bag and rush out to your car. 
You’re not sure why you drive to the Hideout; maybe it’s because you still want the comfort of Eddie, but you tell yourself it’s because the drinks are cheap and payday isn’t until next week. 
“I’ll take a Jack & Coke, please,” you tell Lou. The bartender nods, and you add, “you can put it on Eddie’s tab.” He is the reason you’re drinking, after all. 
The thought of their bodies melded into one, him holding her the way you’d only dreamed he’d hold you—it’s too much to bear. And now, like an idiot, you’d left them alone to do it again. 
Lou slides your drink over with a small smile, the most affection you’ve ever seen from the usually stoic man. You down the drink, and then another, frowning when you get the urge to break the seal. 
“Be right back,” you mutter to no one in particular, hoisting yourself off of the barstool and traipsing towards the restroom. You get a decent glimpse of yourself in the mirror: eyes still slightly puffy from when you’d been crying in the car, mascara smudged and smeared. A flick of the makeup wand has you looking a bit perkier already, and you practice your smile a few times before walking back out. 
Lou has another drink ready for you, cocking his head towards the other side of the bar. “Paid for by that gentleman over there,” he informs you, raising his eyebrows. 
You look to where he’s motioning and see a gorgeous older man giving you a little wave. His black t-shirt clings to his muscular frame, and you can’t help but notice the way his biceps ripple with each small movement. He looks to be in his mid- to late-forties, but his hair doesn’t show any signs of thinning. Short brown curls cover his scalp, cropped closely at the base of his neck. His upper body is covered in tattoos, and you immediately wonder where else he has ink. 
You saunter over to him, batting your eyelashes flirtatiously, just as you’d watched Andrea do countless times before. “I guess I should be thanking you for this drink,” you say, giggling and taking a sip. 
“Pleasure’s mine,” he offers, grabbing his green Heineken bottle and taking a swig. “Looked kinda sad, and pretty girls should always have a smile on their face.”
“It worked.” You rest your hand on his bicep, surprising yourself with your own brazenness. Or maybe it’s just tipsiness?
“You gotta name, pretty girl?” the mystery man asks, and you tell him. “Pretty name, too. Damn,” he muses. “I’m Jack. Just, uh, moved back to Hawkins a coupla days ago.”
“Moved back? So you don’t need the welcome tour?” you pout, earning a chuckle from him. 
“Pretty girl, I’ll take you up on anything you offer.”
You consider his proposition. “Let me finish this drink and we’ll see.”
His hand rests on your thigh as he tells you that he’s got a job lined up at the local power plant—immediately reminding you of Wayne, but you push the feeling down. You allow yourself to get lost in his sky blue eyes, somehow both haunting and comforting. 
You kill out your third drink, contemplating ordering one more. Either Jack was paying, or Eddie was, so all you had to worry about was how drunk you wanted to get. 
“What had you all upset earlier, hm?” Jack asks, running his thumb along the denim above your knee. “Don’t tell me it’s some stupid boy.”
“Fine, I won’t tell you then.” You giggle again—you can’t seem to stop giggling around him. “He’s not worth the time.”
Jack shakes his head. “He’s not. You don’t need to play his games. What you need,” he says seriously, “is a real man.”
“And where can I find one?”
His lips crash against yours hungrily, gently parting them with his tongue. He tastes like the hoppiness of beer and stale cigarettes, but you don’t mind. 
“That tour you mentioned earlier,” he murmurs in your ear, “can the first stop be my place?”
You give him a pout, leaning forward into his space, just enough for him to get a peek down your shirt. “I don’t know if I can wait that long.”
Jack looks around the bar, doing a doubletake when he sees the bathrooms in the back corner. He slides from his seat and takes one of your hands in his. There’s a smirk on his face as he walks backwards towards the bathrooms, tugging you along.
“Just as impatient as I am,” he says. “We shouldn’t wait any longer then.”
Without taking notice of if it’s the men or women’s room, you follow Jack in as he nudges a bathroom door open with his elbow. He’s quick to lock it behind you and his hands are instantly on you, grabbing at your waist as his mouth finds yours again. The kisses are urgent and sloppy, no teasing, just devouring one another. Your hands move down to his beltbuckle, making quick work of it and working on the button of his jeans. Strong, large hands grope over your chest as you shove his pants down, but just as you break from the kiss to get down on your knees, there’s a loud banging on the bathroom door. You’re startled and grab onto Jack’s arm, and he’s quick to wrap it around you reassuringly.
“Not in my bar!” Lou shouts through the door. 
Well, you think, can’t show my face at The Hideout again. Your face is burning in embarrassment as Jack huffs an awkward chuckle and resituates his belt. 
“I guess my place is the first stop on the tour then. That is, if you still want to?” Jack’s eyes meet yours, obviously wanting to convey that if you’re no longer interested, that’s fine. But a little embarrassment was nothing compared to how you felt earlier in the day.
“I want to,” you say. For emphasis, you grab the back of his neck and give him a kiss that proves how much you want him. When you pull away, there’s a dazed smile on his face that may be the most endearing thing you’ve seen all day. He takes your hand in his and slowly opens the bathroom door. Luckily, Lou isn’t standing on the other side of it, but you’re sure he’s not far off, watching to make sure the two of you leave. 
You force yourself not to look over at the bar as you and Jack head towards the door. It’s not like you think the bartender will tell anyone, but you can’t bring yourself to meet his eye at the moment. Jack’s car isn’t the nicest, but that’s not something you ever cared about anyway. If it gets you from point A to point B, that’s all that matters. The gentleman that he is, he holds the passenger’s side door open for you and you slip inside. He practically runs around to the driver’s side and it makes you let out a soft giggle. When’s the last time someone seemed this eager to spend time with you? And seem to be genuinely enjoying it?
The ride to his place is only about five minutes, and Jack makes sure you stay in the car until he can come around and open the door for you again. The apartment complex isn’t the nicest either, but what was in Hawkins? His place is on the first floor and you watch his hands as he fumbles with his keys. They’re large, calloused, from what you can only assume is years of work. Staring at them just makes you want to have them all over your body even more. 
As soon as he swings the door open, he’s all over you again. Frantic kisses keep his lips connected to yours as the two of you clumsily make your way to his couch. The material is worn, but not dirty, and you find yourself once again fumbling with his belt as he sits on the cushions.
“Picking up where we left off?” Jack teases, throwing his head back in ecstasy as you get back on your knees and take him into your mouth. The saltiness of sweat and pre-cum hits your tongue, his cock edging towards your throat when he brings his hands to the back of your head and helping you find the perfect rhythm.
“J-Jesus Christ,” he hisses, bucking his hips slightly and watching the tears involuntarily pooling along your lash line. “First time back in that dive bar in years, and I managed to find the girl who gives the best head in Hawkins.”
As if to prove his point further, you cup his heavy balls as you lick up and down his shaft. You keep at it for a few minutes, swirling your tongue around his overly sensitive tip before he pulls away.
“You’re good–too good; but ‘m not gonna lie to you,” he admits when you stare up at him with a puzzled expression, “I don’t bounce back as fast as those college guys you’re probably used to, and I gotta be inside your pussy tonight.”
You nod, tugging your shirt above your head as he helps you shimmy out of your jeans. “Like what you see?”
Jack doesn’t answer right away; just unhooks your bra and watches it fall to the floor. His gaze immediately snaps back to your bare breasts, beckoning you over to straddle his waist. His hard length presses against your lace panties, and the two of you moan in tandem.
“I don’t think you need these,” he mumbles, running his thumb over the lace before tearing them off completely. His middle finger easily finds your clit as he makes slow, deliberate circles.
You can’t help the way you grind against his touch, begging him to stretch you so good. The finger drags through your folds before he slips it inside you.
“So wet already, hmm? Pretty girl must need another finger.” You cry out in pleasure as his forefinger breaches your hole, pumping faster until you feel the familiar tension building in your core.
“N-Need your cock inside me,” you manage, barely able to formulate a thought, let alone a coherent sentence. 
He reaches into the pockets of the pants he discarded and fishes out his wallet to grab the foil-wrapped condom tucked away. Your eyes watch hungrily as he slips it over his cock, fucking his fist a few times to make sure he’s ready for you. His other hand grabs your waist and helps guide you until you’re hovering over his cock. Slowly, you begin to slide down, both of you letting out a groan as he first enters you. The stretch feels so good and from the way Jack’s squeezing his eyes closed and biting at his lower lip, you’d say it feels good for him as well.
“Shit,” he mumbles. “Gives the best head and has the tightest pussy.”
Your only response is a whimper as you lower yourself even further, letting more of his cock fill you up. Once you no longer need your arms to steady yourself, you brace your hands on Jack’s chest. When your hands meet the fabric of his shirt though, you frown. Unable to form words as he finally bottoms out inside you, you tug at the dark material of his shirt, hoping he gets the hint. Reluctantly taking his hands off of you, he maneuvers out of his shirt and tosses it on the floor with his jeans. Most of his chest is covered in ink and you find your eyes trailing the different designs as you rock your hips back and forth. You slide your hands down to rest on his abdomen, since there’s no tattoos there, and you can get a better view of the artwork above. A snake is curled near his right collarbone and a little beneath that there are some sort of wings, but you’re not sure if it’s meant to be an angel, a bird, or something else. On the left side of his chest there is a bird, and it looks like a crow. There’s also a small “E” down near his heart that you can only assume is for an old girlfriend. 
Jack starts rocking his hips up to meet yours and it has your mind completely forgetting about the tattoos as you close your eyes in pleasure. His hands feel rough where they rest on the skin of your waist, but it feels so good when he slides them around to the front and grabs your breasts. You give a particularly hard thrust of your hips when his thumb grazes over your right nipple. There’s a breathy chuckle below you as he sees how sensitive you are to his touch. 
“Feel good, huh?” Jack asks. Breaths becoming more shallow, you nod your head. That’s not good enough for him, though. He gently pinches your nipple, just enough to get your attention, not enough to hurt. “Use your words for me, pretty girl.”
“It’s good,” you say. “So fucking good.” 
“Tell me how it feels.”
“So deep,” you say through a moan. “You’re so big. I feel you everywhere.” It’s true. He’s definitely the largest you’ve ever been with, and in your position, it feels like he’s splitting you open. His arm wraps around your middle as he adjusts himself so he’s sitting up more, your faces closer together this way. As your eyes slip closed again, his lips settle on yours, licking into your mouth hungrily. His teeth graze your bottom lip and it causes you to moan into his mouth. 
“You’re close,” he says. It’s not a question, but a bonafide statement; he already knows your body all too well. “Cream my cock, pretty girl. Just let go f’me.”
The coil snaps as he thrusts into you harder and faster than before. He spills into the condom with a groan of your name but doesn’t pull out right away. You keep him inside you as the two of you catch your breath, coming down from your highs.
“I should go,” you murmur, realizing that there is no way in hell that Andrea won’t rat you out for coming in late and smelling of sex. “Could you give me a lift back to the Hideout so I can get my car?”
Jack nods, discarding the used rubber in a nearby waste bin as you get dressed. You start to look for your underwear before remembering how he destroyed it, and it has you getting wet all over again. 
He kisses you one last time in the bar parking lot. “Sorry I couldn’t stick around for round two,” you tease, “but maybe I’ll catch you here another time?”
“I sure fuckin’ hope so.”
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You’re in your bedroom a few days later, frantically searching through your cassette collection for your favorite AC/DC tape. It’s not in the “As” section, where it would normally be, and you realize with a sinking feeling in your stomach that you’d left it at Eddie’s a few weeks ago.
“Shit, shit, shit,” you mutter. He was the only one allowed to borrow it–you’d gotten it signed by Angus Young when you saw the band in concert, and it meant everything to you. You needed it back.
The drive to Eddie’s trailer seems to fly by, now that you’re dreading facing him. You knock on the door once to no answer, but his van is parked in front, so you knock again, louder this time.
“I need my AC/DC tape,” you snarl as soon as he opens the door.
He rubs his face, combing his fingers through his hair. “Can I drop it off later? And then maybe we can talk?” he asks meekly.
“No.” You shake your head and put out your hand. “Go get the tape and give it to me now.”
Eddie glances around the trailer nervously, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Look,” he starts, “now’s really not a good time…”
You scoff. “Why? Are you fucking another one of my family members? A cousin or something?”
A brief look of hurt flashes across Eddie’s face. He shakes his head and looks down at his feet before meeting your eyes again. “No. No, I wouldn’t…” he trails off with a sigh, sensing it’s useless—and he’s right. “My dad’s here.”
That’s one of the last things you expected to come out of his mouth. Your eyebrows raise in shock as you stare at him. Eddie hadn’t seen his father in years. Didn’t want to, according to him, no matter how many times his dad reached out. The relationship was tumultuous to say the least, but you felt you never had the right to offer any advice since you couldn’t relate to his situation. And Eddie never asked, so you weren’t going to say anything. 
“Your dad?” you ask, just wanting to clarify. 
“Yeah,” Eddie says. He keeps speaking, but movement in the trailer behind him catches your eye. You blink a few times to make sure you’re seeing what you think you are. An airy giggle bursts out of you, drawing both the attention of Eddie and the man in the living room—Eddie’s father, apparently.
“What?” Eddie asks, brow furrowing in confusion. He looks behind him to see his dad, then back to you, unsure of what is making you laugh. “What’s so funny?”
Eddie’s dad stares at you, eyes widening as he comes forward to stand next to his son at the door. The shit-eating grin on your face must be confusing both of them, but it’s wholly impossible for you not to find this whole situation highly amusing. 
“Eddie?” his dad asks. “How do you know the pretty girl from the bar?”
Your ex-best friend’s gaze shoots to his father, head moving so fast that the curls whip around his head. Seeing them next to one another, you can see the resemblance. About the same height and build, same nose, and both covered in ink. Their curls are roughly the same color even if one has brown eyes and one has blue. 
“W-What?” Eddie asks, looking from his dad back to you.
“Hi, Jack,” you say, giving the older man a wink. 
“Wait, what the fuck?” Eddie asks, the color draining from his face. You wait a beat while the realization sets in. “She’s…he’s…” He turns back to you. “You fucked my dad?”
You laugh, shrugging as you reply, “Guess so.” You waltz past your bewildered friend–ex-friend– grabbing Jack’s hand as you lead him back to Eddie's bedroom. 
“Wanna help me look for my tape?” you ask, hooking a finger through his belt loop and you bring your lips to whisper in his ear, “and maybe we can see about that round two?”
Jack grins, grabbing a handful of your ass as he follows you. “Looks like we found the next stop on our tour.”
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Green
Chapter Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Chapter Summary: Jackson believes in a green future, which includes marijuana. You like to get high. Tonight, Joel joins you and you get to treat him like he treats you. Chapter Warnings: Smut, marijuana use, soft dom reader, sub Joel, m receiving oral, unprotected p in v, riding Joel's thick thigh, you bite Joel's stomach (because it has to be done), Joel watching himself masturbate in your mirror, Joel drinks water out of your hands. Words: 5,100 Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader Series Summary: Life in Jackson is quite comfortable and simple for you. You love teaching your students and running your library, you love the comforts of living here, perfectly complacent with the company of your two cats, guitar, tattered CD book, and a few friends. You like comfortable and simple, though the feelings you feel whenever you see Joel Miller are quite the opposite. Once you meet him, it seems like he needs you in his life as much as you need him. Reader Background: Reader is in her 30's and comes from Colorado. No other physical descriptors besides her having long enough hair to put up. A/N: Happy 4/20! Wanted to give you another entry akin to Golden Walkway, a little peek into the future again of these two.
Masterlist Playlist
Times never change instead of hiding your illicit use from your parents, now you hide it from a teenager. Joel and you always going to your your house so you can get high, just in case Ellie needs something. Can’t be a bad influence.
“So you never really smoked much?” you ask as you pull the box of papers and weed out of the drawer before sitting down on your couch. You lean over your coffee table removing its contents and start to build your joint.
“Mm, never really was my thing, too risky if I got caught growing up in Texas during the Regan years. Had football eligibility to worry about ‘n then Sarah came, just never was the time for me.” Joel says as he leans back into your armchair his brown eyes intently watching your actions. You begin to crumble weed up and place it on your rolling paper. 
“Ah, makes sense. It’s good for me when my nerves really get to me,” you begin to roll your joint, “helps kinda soften the harsh lines of reality a lot. Makes my body and my mind a little freer.”
You lick your cigarette closed and admire your handiwork, welcoming the anticipation of being with Joel while you’re stoned. 
You grab a match, strike it against the box and spark your joint, rotating it in your mouth to light it up. Joel chuckles as you inhale the first hit. 
“What’s so funny?” You ask in a cloud of your smoke as you exhale.
“Nothing. Maybe I should get high. Making me hard just watching you do this.”
“Oh yeah?” You sit back. 
“Yeah, maybe I should start. Never was one for smoking though.”
“Hm, I can help. I can just blow the smoke into your mouth if you want to try it.” You lean forward wanting him to take you up on your offer.
“Sounds good sweetheart,” he nods and pats his lap. “Come sit with me, have nowhere to be tomorrow.”
You rest the joint between your lips, stand and grab the ashtray. Your bare feet pad across the plush carpet of the area rug as you walk over to Joel. 
“Hi,” you smile out with a small puff of smoke. 
“You look so cute like this, little cigarette sticking out of your mouth, eyes all cloudy and happy. Love it when my girl is happy.”
You giggle at his compliment as you lift your leg up to rest on the chair, your foot tightly fitting within what little room is left on the seat between Joel’s thick thighs. He looks up at you, his mouth slightly agape his usual furrowed brow a lot less creased, more relaxed.
“I am happy,” you answer as his hands begin to massage your calf. “You look a lot less grumpier than you normally look. That makes me happy.”
“Oh really?” 
“Yep,” you say before inhaling another hit. 
“Why don’t you make me happier and sit on my lap, that’d make me really happy darlin’.”
Turning your head to the side you blow out a plume of smoke as you place yourself on Joel’s lap, knees bent against his thighs and the armrests. You can feel the denim covered shape of his half hard cock against your cotton shorts. Your tits underneath your faded and holey t-shirt are right at Joel’s eye level. 
“S’nice,” he says staring forward at your chest. 
“My eyes are up here Joel,” you begin to laugh at your own joke, as you take another hit. You’re so high and happy, you’ve never been stoned and in love, it feels amazing.
“I’d tell you to knock it off, but your whole body’s shaking against me ’n your tits are bouncing in my face,” Joel grins as he kisses a breast through your shirt. 
Fuck, now that feels amazing. 
“Hold this,” you direct, handing him the joint. 
He takes it between his fingers and watches as you lean back and remove your shirt. His eyes widening as he concentrates on your actions, so much for relaxed Joel. He holds up the joint, still in his hands, to your lips.
“Take a hit baby,” his voice gravels out, his cock hardening underneath, “‘n lemme have some.”
You inhale and move your mouth to his, forming a tight seal between the two of you. Joel welcomes the smoke and sucks in as you blow out. 
You grab the joint from him as he exhales, a white cloud of smoke floating above the two of you. You take another pull off the joint, your body already feeling much lighter, your brain less complicated. 
“Can I have that back?” Joel asks. “Want to do the same you did for me.”
You smile a silent agreement and hand him the joint, now a short stub. He brings it up to his mouth, holding it between his thumb and pointer, his large fingers making it practically disappear save for the glowing orange embers that light as he takes a hit. He looks so fucking tempting as his cheeks slightly puff out. Everything Joel Miller does is hot, but the way he drags on a joint, his pillowy lips wrapping around the white paper, the way his broad shoulders rise as he breathes in, this might just be the hottest you’ve ever seen him. When will you ever get tired of looking at this man?
You bring your lips to his and he exhales into your mouth. Oh, this is the best way to get high. You pull away, releasing the smoke from your lungs.
“‘Bout shot, don’t you think?” Joel raises the joint up and looks at it.
“It’s shot,” you grab the ash tray from the table and hand it to him. He stubs out the joint and puts it back on the table.
He looks at you, his eyes heavier than usual, a little red and glazed. You’ve seen his eyes glazed over with lust numerous times, this glaze is a little lighter, a little happier. He sits back and you move farther up his lap so you can move a finger up to pet the smoothness of the little heart patch in his beard. 
“How are you feeling?” You ask as Joel’s hands trace up and down your back. 
“Good, real good,” a deep exhale out of his lips answers. 
“Relaxed?” You ask as your finger moves to brush back and forth across his lips. 
“Mm.”
You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this free before. A light smile, half shut eyes staring back at you, his whole face more relaxed. He looks good this way, you love when he’s happy and relaxed, you’ve never met anybody more deserving.
“Feels good,” Joel says as you rub your finger across his soft lower lip. A deep breath leaves his half parted lips, the air blowing against your finger. “Real good.”
“Good,” your hand moves to trace around his top lip, the hair of his mustache bristling against your digit as you move it back and forth. “I like making you feel good.” 
You feel the the lines around his lips rise as he smiles at you. “You’re s’good at it baby.”
“Yeah? What do you like the most?”
“Hard t’pick. Love the way your eyes always blink as you cum for me, can always tells how good you’re feelin’ by how big your eyes get right before. Love the little gasp you always make when I start fuckin’ you. Love that you grab for my hands at any chance you get, like you need to touch me as much as you can. Love that you always need me.” The last sentence coming out the softest.
“I do need you,” you confess, “all the time, not even for all of the you know, sex stuff.”
“I know baby,” he hugs you against his chest, “I need you too… so much.” 
“But, I do also really need you for the sex stuff, you know?"
Joel’s chuckle vibrates against you. “My girl’s funny, real funny.”  
“But really, what do you need tonight Joel?” You pull away from his chest and look him in the eyes. You love it when he compliments you, you love it when he calls you his girl. You love that he needs you just as much as you need him. 
“I need you to tell me what you want from me tonight.  Make me yours. Talk to me like I talk t’ya.” Joel’s eyes staring into yours as they widen with his admission. “I’m yours baby.”
A bit of trepidation lands in your brain. Joel’s always the one to depend on to chart the stars of your intimacy. He’s so good at predicting what you want, you let him navigate. The thoughts are silenced once you feel his hands move along your hips and thighs. You can tell he wants you to do this for him. You want Joel to experience what you feel after he’s done with you. You want him to believe in you like you believe in him. You sit up higher on him, feeling braver and bolder. Ready to bless him for his confession. 
“Okay. I’m going to get up, walk to the kitchen to get something to drink, and when I come back, I want you to stand in front of my mirrored wall over there. Keep your clothes on.”
You’re shocked by the confidence in your voice. Joel as well, his hands pause their movement as you speak. He stares at you, his mouth slightly open in surprise. 
You rise up off of Joel, folding your arms across your naked chest. “Understand?”
“Y-y-yes,” Joel stutters. 
“Good,” you wink and turn towards the kitchen, your confident steps leaving a bewildered Joel in your chair. You’ve never acted like this, your brain swirling with ideas of what you want to do, what you want to say, how you want to make him feel. 
You grab two glasses out of your cupboard and fill them with water. Your mouth is parched, you’re sure Joel’s is too. You walk back to your living room, your courage building with each step closer. You know you’re ready when you see Joel standing as instructed in front of your mirror. 
“Hi handsome,” you walk to stand behind him, still topless and only in your shorts, his eyes moving from looking at his own reflection to your chest. You wouldn’t expect less from him, you love how he looks at you.
“Hi,” Joel whispers. You think he’s a little nervous, a little excited, he probably feels exactly how you feel. 
“I’m going to watch you watch yourself get undressed. I want you to listen to me and follow my directions, okay?”
“Yes,” his simple answer resolutely spoken as you put the waters down and turn the lamp on besides you, the light bathing both of you in a smoldering golden hue. You want to fully be able to watch Joel do what you have planned for him.
“Good, I don’t want to hear much from you, okay? I’m the one talking.” 
You like this feeling, you especially like the serious nod Joel gives you through the mirror. 
“Take your shirt off.”
You watch Joel’s hands move to the hem of his t-shirt and lift it over his head. 
“Give it to me,” you step forward and extend a hand out. 
The soft gray fabric is still warm with Joel’s body heat as it hits your hand. You bring it to your nose and inhale his scent. “You smell so good all the time. I love the scent of you.” You take one last sniff before putting his shirt on, his smell now encompassing you.
“Wh—“ 
“Quiet,” you interrupt Joel’s protest, “I don’t want to hear anything out of you, I want to smell like you and wear your shirt while I make you feel good.” 
He looks a little annoyed, you like that. 
“Look at your chest. It’s perfect. I love how your shoulders are so wide and so strong. I love how your arms are muscular and yet they’re so soft when I rest my head against them. I love how soft your stomach has gotten meaning you’re well fed and healthy. You like the praise baby?”
Joel nods as his eyes darken hearing you call him one of the pet names he always calls you.
“Unbutton and unzip your pants, but don’t take them off.” Your pussy getting wetter at the thought of the sights that you’re about to see, all directed by you. All broadcast on your mirror. 
Joel nods, as he unbuttons his jeans, his fingers move to his zipper and pulls it down. You love that he never wears underwear when he comes over. You love how you can see the trail of hair from his belly button down to his bush. He’s the perfect amount of hairy. He’s the perfect amount of manly. He’s just fucking perfect.
“Good. You’re thirsty right?” He nods. You lean over to the table and pick up a glass of water. “Drink all of this. Want to watch your neck move as you swallow it down.” 
Joel takes the glass and brings it to his lips, his eye contact not breaking with yours through the reflection. He takes a large gulp brows wrinkling with seriousness for the task at hand, no matter how significant or insignificant it is. It’s so Joel.
“I love watching you drink. I love how small the mug looks in your hand when you drink your coffee in the morning. I love how you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand after downing a whole glass of water when you’re hot. I love how gently form your lips around a glass of whiskey.” You finish your praise as he empties the glass, taking it from him and placing it on the table. 
“Good. Feel better?” 
He nods.
“Take your pants off,” you think of what Joel would say in this moment. “Lemme see all of you.” 
He smirks as he starts to move his jeans down his hips, he knows you’re going to love this part. His cock springs out as it’s freed, fully erect and throbbing, you knew you’d get him good and hard with your attitude. He bends over to shuck his jeans fully off, kicking them to the side, and when he stands up, shoulders back, dick hard and ready to follow your instructions, you almost fall to your knees. 
“God, you’re so fucking hot, baby,” you breathe out. His smirk still remains, he knows what he does to you. 
Your eyes roam his body, he’s so large and so thick, his body screams protector. He’s your protector. He provides for you. You love that you get to love him and make him feel this way. 
“I’m thirsty, why don’t you hand me my glass?” You love how seriously he follows your commands, like it’s the only thing that matters in the world. You love how powerful it makes you feel to see Joel readily do your every request. 
Joel turns towards the table and picks up the glass, handing it to you. 
“Thank you.” 
Another nod. 
You quickly drink the water down, save for the last quarter of it. “You’re still thirsty, aren’t you?”
This time it’s not just one slow nod from Joel, it’s three quick nods. He’s thirsty.
“Then come stand here in front of me.” 
You’ve enjoyed watching him from a couple of feet back, standing far enough to be able to see all of him in the mirror. Now that he’s right in front of you though, this is how you like him the most. Right beside you. 
You empty the rest of the water into your mouth, your cheeks swelling out with the amount you’re holding. You bring your palms up to your mouth and cup them together. Joel begins to breathe heavily as he watches you spit the water into your makeshift hand bowl.
“Now, drink it up,” you order.
He moves so fast, so eager to please. Joel’s head quickly craning down as his brown eyes look up at you. Your heart begins to race as his tongue comes out of his mouth and begins to lap up the water out of your hand. “I love how you’re looking up at me, you look at me the same way when you eat me out.” 
Joel grunts as he leans further forward and starts to suck the water up from your hand, never breaking eye contact. The groove of his dimple getting deeper as his cheeks hollow and he sucks up all of the water.
Now you wear Joel’s cocky smirk just like his shirt. You get to know him like he knows you, you get to play with his body like he plays with yours.
“Very good.” You move your hands to wrap around his erection, the slickness of the water allowing you to easily stroke him. A gruff breath leaves Joel’s mouth, the air landing against your face. You only leave your hands on him for a couple pumps, just enough until he begins to arch his back. His eyes widen as you remove your hands, a small “mmf” is let out of his pursed lips.
“I know, I know, I know you want more. You’ll get it soon. You’re being real well behaved for me, aren’t you?” 
Another nod. Joel still hasn’t spoken a word, you miss his voice but you also like to watch him challenge himself to stay quiet. 
“Face the mirror again Joel.”
He likes it when you say his name, he’s told you so many times how he likes to hear your voice say his name. 
“Touch yourself for me Joel.” 
His heavy eyes slowly shut as he bites his bottom lip with a moan, he liked that… a lot. He opens his eyes and with a look of determination, he spits in his hand before moving it down and gripping his shaft as he looks at you for his next command. 
“Stroke yourself for me.” 
He begins to slowly pump himself, savoring and watching himself in the reflection. His gaze anchoring in on pleasuring himself.
You wonder when the last time he did this was.
“When’s the last time you made yourself cum?” His movements falter as he looks up at you and takes in your question. “Go ahead, you can talk, tell me.” 
“That last night you were painting f’me,” a half smile shows up on his face as he begins to stroke again. 
Now you’re the one who only nods, your words lost at his confession. “Go on,” you muster up. You need to hear more. 
“Went to bed that night, ’n all I could see was your pretty eyes lookin’ up at me, how you looked in those overalls, I felt like I could still feel your lips on mine.” His strokes getting quicker, his hand pausing as he twists his hand around his tip. “Was so hard for you, had to take care of things before I could fall asleep.” 
Your whole body shivers, his words making your pussy begin to drip out onto your shorts. The look of his face as he recalls his memories. Those words added to all of his others that prove to you again that you have Joel’s heart, mind and body. He is yours. 
“God. Th—that’s good,” you breathe out, your eyes widening when you watch him bite his lip as he squeezes his cock. He has you flustered, and he knows, his mouth grinning into the signature cocky smirk he gets whenever you get like this. As if his sense of self blooms whenever he makes your heart race. 
You can’t allow him this pleasure over you, you’re the one in control tonight. You remind yourself that this is what Joel wants. You steel yourself and stand a little taller. 
“Stop,” you bark out. 
He obeys, mouth slacking open in shock at your raised voice. His hand unwrapping from around himself. 
“Good job, I think you were getting a little too comfortable, weren’t you?” 
Joel just stares at you, seems he forgot to nod. 
“I can’t let you have the power tonight, can I? Acknowledge me Joel.”
“N—no,” an actual stutter from Joel Miller’s mouth. Not a grunt, not a short one word answer, an actual nervous stutter. 
“That’s right. Now, I think you’ve had too much fun putting on a show for me. Go sit in the middle of the couch.” 
He nods, his broad frame passes by you, he doesn’t even take the time to look at you. 
You follow behind and wait until he takes a seat. You love seeing Joel on your couch, in your bed, using one of your bowls to eat oatmeal out of. You love seeing him in your space, all comfortable and domestic, but seeing him now naked on your couch, his hard cock sitting straight up, his large hands sitting atop his strong thighs, shoulders taking up most of the backrest of his seat, sitting ready to listen to your commands.  This is how you really like to see him. He’s fucking gorgeous. 
“So, you had your fun with your body, I want to have my fun with your body,” you stand over him. Now your body gets to loom over his. 
You bring the collar of Joel’s shirt up to your nose, inhale deeply and moan. “Have I told you before how much I love how your smell? Sometimes I’ll be wearing one of your shirts to bed I’ll smell your scent on it and it’ll make me wet while I’m trying to go to sleep.” The sound from Joel’s mouth makes you bolder. “One night, I might just knock on your door, in only your shirt and my jacket, make you help me take care of what smelling you does to me. Would you like that?” 
Joel shudders and furiously nods.
“Ohh, had a feeling you would,” you chuckle as you remove his shirt off of you. “I’m going to do something I've been wanting to do, okay?”
A nod, a groan, and a sigh now. The more reactions you get at once, the more you know how good you’re doing. 
You pull down your shorts, and kick them aside. His fingers grip into his thighs, his forearms straining at the sight of you. He’s going through it. 
“Can you see me glisten for you baby?” You ask as you lift your foot onto the couch cushion and snake your hand down in between your legs. “See how wet I got watching you touch yourself for me?” You take a finger and run it across your folds gathering your wetness. You hold it up for Joel, his eyes glued to your finger. “Open your mouth.” 
He listens. You slide your finger into his mouth, his lips forming around it, a low moan vibrating against it. 
“Put your hands on the couch, you can’t touch me, you can only watch. Okay?” 
Joel obeys. He still sucks your finger as you straddle his thigh. His skin radiates heat against you once you place your wet pussy on it. You’ve wanted to do this since you saw his bare legs for the first time, his thighs are so muscular and yet so supple, much like the rest of his features. Joel groans as you begin to ride his thigh, rubbing yourself back and forth against his skin. 
“You like how wet my pussy feels on your thigh?” You pull your finger out of his mouth. “Answer me Joel. Want to hear your voice.”
“Yes.”
“What do you like?” 
“Your wet pussy on my th— I like your wet pussy on my thigh,” his low cadence and the pressure against your aching cunt pushing you close to your orgasm.
“I’m going to make myself cum on your thigh, okay? I’m so close.” You begin to grind your hips down on his his thigh, putting the perfect amount of friction against your clit. 
Your hands splay against Joel’s chest, feeling his breaths and his moans rumble against your palms.
“I’m gonna cum on your thigh Joel.” You grab and pull on his chest hair as your climax reaches you, cresting over and spilling onto Joel’s thigh as you grind against it. Joel’s eyes boring into you looking forlorn and tortured that he can’t touch you as you cum on him. 
You rest your head against his shoulder as you catch your breath. You need to recover quickly, you’re ready to ride him. 
Joel grumbles as you stand back up. 
“Would you look at that? Look down baby, look how wet I got your thigh.” You place your hands on his thighs, a hand resting in the puddle of your slick left on his skin. You lean forward as he looks down and nibble the bare skin of his heart patch before licking your way down his neck and chest. “Should probably clean that up, huh?” You ask as your rest your lips against the plush of his belly before gently biting it. 
He groans as you move your mouth down, bypassing his hard cock to the side. You stick your tongue out and lick a long stripe up his thigh tasting yourself as you clean his skin. His breathing turns more labored as he watches you lick yourself up.
“Mm, wonder how I’d taste licking my cum off your cock?” You ask, nuzzling your head into his crotch, his hard cock throbbing against your cheek.
His hips jut as you turn your head and kiss the shaft of him. 
“You’re going to cum fast for me, aren’t you?” You leave a kiss on his shaft higher than your last one.
“I love how hard you always cum for me,” another kiss moving your way up his hardness. 
“I love the way you fuck my mouth while you cum down my throat,” another kiss.
“I love the way my name sounds as you chant it when I make your legs shake,” another kiss right under his tip.
“I love how your cum tastes as I lick it from my lips,” another kiss on his tip, tasting the precum collected on it. 
“Fuck,” he finally utters, not being able to hold back as you lick along the trail of where you just kissed him.
“Shhhh,” you silence against the soft skin of his firmness. “I think it’s about time for me to fuck you, before you get any more ideas about talking.”
Another deep exhale from him, his nose flaring in frustration. You fucking love this. 
“Put your hands on the top of your head, and don’t you dare lower them. Don’t touch me, okay?”
Joel nods raising his hands as you plant yourself back on the couch, straddling his legs. His eyes follow your body, his brows a bit more furrowed now. 
You hover your pussy over his cock, leaving enough space between the two of you that if he really wanted, he could raise his hips and stick his cock in, but he doesn’t. He wants to do good for you. 
“Open your mouth,” you angle your head forward, your lips right in front of his. Joel’s mouth opens, his heavy breathing hitting you in the face, as you lick into his mouth.
You swirl your hips over his cock slowly lowering yourself on him, you’re so soaked for him he easily slides into you. 
A long sigh escapes the back of his throat as you begin to ride him. You pull back from his mouth and rest your hands against his chest. His hands still sit on top of his head, you glance up and see how he’s grabbing at his hair in exasperation. 
He watches as you move your hands from his chest to yours, cupping your breasts and playing with your nipples. 
“Like watching me touch my tits like the way you do? Like how I pinch and pull my nipples like you?”
High pitched moans and groans of frustration leave his mouth. Joel Miller is whimpering. 
“Shhhh, shhh, I know baby. Now quiet. Want to hear my wet pussy ride you, stay quiet,” you say grabbing his jaw and pushing his mouth shut. 
You begin fucking him harder, the sound of your wet cunt bouncing on him and his whimpers the only sounds in the room. You lean forward and rest your head in the juncture between his head and shoulder. You slam yourself up and down on him, the rapidness of your movements matching the rapidness of your heart as you bring yourself close to your orgasm.
Your back straightens as you place your hands on his biceps, staring in his big brown eyes as your body snaps, your pussy clutching his cock as you cum around Joel. He bites his bottom lip fighting his orgasm for as long as he can. His biceps straining against your grasp as you feel his body begin to quake. 
“Clooooose,” he husks. You slip out of him, moving quickly on shaky legs through the aftershocks of your orgasm kneeling down in front of him. His hands are still in his hair as he looks down at you, watching you seal your mouth over him. You bob your head up and down on him as he cums down your throat. 
You swallow all of him down as he chants your name. His hands lower, resting against the hollows of your cheeks as you still keep his softening cock in your mouth.
You stare up at him, his hair left awry and twisted from his hands, eyes wide and still blown out as he blinks down at you, his chest rising and falling still catching his breath. He looks at you, like you’re the only thing in this world. You are the center of his universe. 
389 notes · View notes
cassyxox · 9 months
Text
I’m so obsessed with the concept of bbf!ellie I had to make a little post..heavily inspired from a post by @clearheartgreyflowers
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Imagine bbf!ellie teaching you how to play guitar..18+
ur back pressed against her front..her fingers guiding ur’s to different strings. she would so tease you. letting out sweet little praises.
“see?..your gettin’ the hang of it..”
“ur doing so good I’m-…kinda surprised” she chuckled. making ur neck shiver. her face angled around you. watching from below.
you barely could even function with the way ellie was praising you everytime u did good.
but when u didn’t..she would grip ur wrist. rather softly. letting out a little “tsk tsk tsk” you on the other hand breathing out a small “ahh..” brows furrowed from the grip she had on u.
“wrong string babe..”
you looked back at her. “Im-..this is so hard”
“let me try again?..pleasee?”
studying her zoned out expression. you couldn’t tell what she was thinking. but then a smirk rose upon her freckled pretty face. green eyes back on yours. her right hand let go of your wrist. the ache slowly going away.
“how bout this?..” she spoke. wetting her lips. suddenly the feeling of her back non comforting anymore. she turned around facing you fully. pulling the guitar out of ur shaky arms.
“ellie what are you-“ you tried but she finished. “how about we play a little game?..” u rolled ur eyes.
what game could she possibly wanna play.
u scoffed. “ellie..we’re not 12 what are you saying?” but in the back of ur mind u were so nervous.
Ellie was a lot. well her mouth was. always leaving u in awe..whenever u were around her and your brother.
Like that one time where u were laying in bed. thinking about what ellie meant earlier when u sent a pic of you in a bikini to the gc with ur brother and her in it.
her response being a “yea I would..”
ur brother’s a short “ellie dude..chill fr”
whenever u had tried asking him later that night what she meant. he had brushed u off with a quick “nothing.”
leaving u to wonder in ur own thoughts all night.
but now..it was just you and her. in ur room.
ellie’s voice pulling u out of the daze. “I’m saying that if you—you know mess up..you have to do something for me..” u giggled. “uhh like what exactly?”
does she want like a hug or something?
“give me a kiss..on the lips.” u laughed even louder. “ellie ur not..being serious right?”
was she?
she smirked. “oh I’m being super serious (y/n)..or are you..”
she looked around the room. making a frightened expression.
“..scared?” u rolled ur eyes at her gesture. “uh..no it’s just a little strange..” u softly muttered out. looking everywhere but at her.
taking a glance at ur ring finger. then back up at her.
being met with a flirty smile? oh ellie…
“kay well..don’t make it strange—just think of it as a thank you for showing me how to play ur guitar kiss..you know?” she spoke eyeing the way ur lips were halfway open.
She just wanted to stick her-
“ok whatever.. I’ll do it” crossing ur arms you made eye contact with ellie. the smile on her face never faltering.
“alright..cmere” she grabbed her guitar watching u get situated very closely in front of her. your jeans scratching against hers.
she gave u her guitar. basically pushing it into ur arms.
“what do I do?..” questioning her antics. she smirked. a little pitch in her voice. “play me what I showed u earlier—the first part..small one.”
she’s doing this on purpose. u barely even remember the right strings. u were so focused on her fingers.
“ellie.” “just uhh—do it” her smile faltered.
“geez okay..” u muttered. rolling ur eyes. ur fingers gripped the strings. u slowly strummed trying so desperately to flick the right strings. u were sounding pretty good until..
“wrong string” u stopped.
“ellie that didn’t eve-“ “-it was the wrong string” she spoke quickly her voice never faltered.
“whatever..” u huffed pushing her guitar to the floor. “sooo..” u heard her giggle. “what about that kiss yea?” she really wanted a kiss.
“ellie can’t we just..hug or something?” u pleaded. her eyes boring into urs. “no u agreed to it so you kinda have to” she expressed. shrugging her shoulders. u groaned moving closer to her.
she had that stupid weird smile on her face.
“on the lips?” “yes (y/n)..” u sighed. leaning into her but she moved back. “ah ah ah..on my lap.”
u have got to be kidding me.
“ellie that’s so stupi-“ “—ur making this take way longer than it has to..cmon.” she groaned pulling u on top of her by ur hips.
why were u internally shaking.
“nice seat right” ellie teased. “oh my-shutup” she tapped ur hip with her finger patiently waiting. u sighed. leaning into her but this time she didn’t pull back. the warmth of her lips meeting urs. she groaned loudly but was muttered by your mouth. her grip on your hip tightened.
U were in a daze before u pulled back. lips wet from her warm ones. she patted ur hip.
“see..wasn’t so hard was it?” her raspy voice filling the now quiet room.
u shook ur head. trying to seem unfazed.
“guess not..” u spoke. moving from ur place on her lap. “soo..” “pick it back up we’re not done..” ellie said. her lips were plump.
her neck feeling hot for some reason.
u groaned. she stiffened. feeling rather flushed. thinking of her next demand. she really wanted to play with u.
“If u mess up this time u have to give me a kiss on the neck.. yea?” She tried to sound tall and proud. but the shakiness in her voice was heard.
u scoffed. “ellie cmon..what are you doing..” questioning her antics. “just playing a little game..why are you making this into something it doesn’t have to be”
she’s just playing a game. It’s not that serious. She’s just messing with me like she always does. u thought. your just reading to much into it.
“fine..” “okay then”
..2 minutes later..
“wrong string”
“ur so annoying-” “—what was that?” she grabbed the guitar pulling it away. “nothing..” u sighed. crawling toward her.
I can’t believe I’m doing this. u thought to urself. slowly angling ur head towards her neck..
ur breath hitting the pale flesh making her softly groan out. “don’t wet ur pants now..” u joked. “shutu-“ her raspy voice getting cut off by the feel of ur lips on her lonely neck. the feel of warmth suffocating her. u leaned in even closer. Tongue tracing over her skin. “ohh yea..” she softly spoke.
u inched back. looking at the little mark u left.
“so pretty..” u gazed up at her. a little smile on ur face.
“Imagine what my brothers gonna say” u laughed quietly. “yea imagine..” nervousness in her voice as she spoke. “you okay ellie?..was that to much?”
“no pick it back up.”
u were shocked with her next demand she wanted. “uhh— you have to kiss my stomach..o—on ur belly looking up at me.”
kinky.
it wasn’t surprising when u messed up again. maybe u we’re doing it on purpose. the whole ordeal was awkward and another feeling you couldn’t quiet think of. Ellie smiled down at you with such a heavy grin.
she wouldn’t fully admit it. but the sight of u on ur stomach touching her in such a way. was making her forget this was just a..game?
yes a game. she kept repeating in her head.
the game kept going. Ellie wanting u to kiss random places on her. until it got to the last one.
U were so close to finishing the whole piece. but ur stupid finger messed everything up.
“wrong string.” oh god.
u sat patiently waiting for her demand. but u didn’t think she would be this upfront.
“Put ur hand in my boxers..” ur eyes grew wide. ur fingers dug into ur hand. “el..”
“do it.” her jaw clenched. ur breathing was ragged. frantic. u could feel ur heartbeat out of ur chest..
u slowly approached ellie. how was she so calm?
u moved ur wrist from ur side. moving way to slow for her liking. “cmon unbutton em..s’not that hard” she leaned back on her elbows. giving space between her thighs.
u couldn’t even look at her. just so focused on getting her buttons undone.
once u finally did. Ellie pulled ur wrist under her dark jeans. ur hand was met with..was that..
“You feel that?..now take them off.”
oh this was gonna be a long night.
pics @elliesgalaxy🙏
1K notes · View notes
dreamerdeity · 7 months
Text
𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔
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*ೃ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Choso Kamo x Fem. reader
*ೃ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 4.1k
*ೃ 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : A hectic schedule and impending deadlines require you to be at your sharpest, yet you can't seem to get a second of sleep thanks to your heedless dorm-mate's nightly jam sessions. To scold him at first, you make your way over to his room, but suddenly he's teaching you how to strum a guitar, and suddenly again, you're somehow in his lap .
*ೃ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : Hand job, Praise kink (f. giving), unestablished relationship, cursing, slightly perverted behavior (?), 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, the rest, please proceed at your own risk.
*ೃ 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : YAYYY first Kinktober piece in my series!! This one's quite long only because it's Choso and I've recently (2 years and counting) been on my Kamo boys d riding shi so they get special treatment. Also, please do not report my work! I'm tired of getting flagged, so if you are uncomfortable, do not read.
⇄ 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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Football season approached its grand commencement, dawning an atmosphere of vibrance and vitality upon a typically spiritless college campus (mid terms tend to have that sort of effect on people, you supposed). Every kid around the buzzy premises had begun to eagerly place their bets, ready to squander their humble savings on predictions pertaining to games they weren't exactly a part of.
But as elating as it all sounded to the average student with heaps of coursework and limited entertainment, opening week was an incredibly hectic time for you, and if you were normally indifferent about being on the cheer squad, you sure as hell hated it during this time of year. Because let’s just say, sore muscles and ill-functioning ankles weren’t exactly your idea of fun—Neither were tight ponytails that threatened to rapture a vein in your temple, however—oh however, setting all of that aside, there was one thing you always, always looked forward to: Catching a glimpse of Choso Kamo languidly slumped against the least congested corner of the bleachers--if he were lucky enough to score a corner seat, that is—his bored eyes barely following the figures of beefy men running around the field at breakneck speed.
His entire existence within the stadium was an anomaly of sorts as raging crowds jumped and screamed around him, and it baffled you to say the least; How he never failed to show up—all dressed up and equipped, mind you—but barely reacted. Why the hell was he here when he clearly looked like he'd rather be doing anything but this? Like, maybe, spending the evening in his lair (his room) all alone, drowning in stifling darkness (he refused to raise his blinds. ever). Though the more you saw him around the stadium, the more you looked forward to being there.
pretty weird, pretty sappy.
You often found yourself discretely glancing over at the crowds in search of him when a game was on, smiling to yourself with a giddy skip to your step every time you did. The circumstances were ordinary, unfavorable even—and you racked your brain left and right—for any logical justification to the sizzling concoction of emotions that bore itself into your psyche every time he so much as uttered a single unenthusiastic “Hi” your way.
Sure, he was aloof and mostly kept to himself, emanating a brooding air that bordered on intimidation as his sharp features wordlessly screamed “don’t talk to me” while you greatly contrasted him in demeanor, carrying yourself ever so vivaciously, always high-spirited and bubbling with energy, but something about him made your head spin. Perhaps it was the way he towered over you as he passed by in the hallways, his guitar case handle firmly secured under the grip of his ring-stacked fingers. Or maybe it was those tired half-lidded eyes that met your own for a speck of a second every time you encountered one another on the way to your neighboring dorm rooms. Granted, you’ve barely exchanged a full sentence over the past two years you'd "known" him, apart from the occasional “good morning”, and “the weather sucks today, doesn’t it?”, but damn.
Choso on the other hand simply didn't have a single fucking clue how to approach you. Despite his good looks, he was too awkward to pull the girls he wanted, and he didn't have much game anyway, he knew that much, though that never stopped him from stealing glances at your pretty round ass every time your skirt rode up your thighs a little too high while you passionately cheered for your team down by the field, or how his vivid imagination raced at a million miles per second every time he caught a whiff of your vanilla bean mist as you skipped past him with your friends. It seemed like you weren't the only one having a hard time, and yet the both of you were acting like cowardly hormonal teenagers, too afraid of laying your feelings out in the open for each other to see.
You fancied the man, that was the conclusion you'd reached, but boy did he love to get on your nerves sometimes. Matter of fact, you'd pray to whatever deity if it meant getting him out of the damn dorms and off somewhere with whatever friends he had for once, because at this rate you won't be getting any shut-eye for the rest of your days. You always heard him toying with that blaring guitar of his late into Friday nights, missing a single note and deciding to play the same riff again over and over until your eardrums threatened to pop. You swore it made you want to rip your hair out every time, and tonight was no different. You dramatically pull the covers over your head in an attempt to block away the ruckus, making a point of huffing and puffing dramatically, hoping he'd magically hear your distress and quit his shit.
To absolutely no avail. He did not quit his shit.
After what felt like an eternity of agitated tossing and turning, you get up with an exasperated sigh and stomp out of your dorm room, making your way over to Choso's to give him a piece of your mind.
"Open up, will you? I've been hearing you fiddle on that thing for an hour, ya know. Some of us need to sleep!" You knock a little too aggressively for his liking and shift your weight between your feet in awaiting. A few beats later, muffled shuffling echoes from within his room, and you can hear him groan in annoyance as he trudges toward the door.
It cracks open at first, timidly almost, like he was debating whether to step out there and confront you, or shut the door right back at your face. Under any other circumstances, you think you might've found that cute, how a grown man double your size was so unnerved by your presence, but right now, you needed sleep, and you needed to scold him. So you lightly block the door with your hand and he finally yields, stepping out in all of his glory.
Fuck.
Whatever bitter words you had planned to hurl at him stick in your throat. He looms over you in nothing but a black shirt that hugs his pecs a little too tightly, sweatpants hanging loosely around his hips, the hem of his boxers peeking just above the waistband. It just dawned on you that you'd never been in this close a proximity to him before, and you involuntarily trail your eyes downward, gulping at what you thought you saw under the thin fabric of his sweats. Probably packing a horse or two down there if you dare say. Stop being weird, damn it.
"Sorry. I'll play unplugged then." He tells you blandly, his guitar still hanging around his waist and his digits hover over what looked like the B string, giving you a view of the bulging veins and stacked up rings hugging his thick index and middle fingers. Pretty hands. Really pretty fucking hands. You wonder how it might feel to intertwine your fingers with his own, or trace the callouses on his palm, or maybe even have those fingers in your—
"You uhh...you good?" He clears his throat to grab your visibly wandering thoughts and you shoot upright like a child caught sneaking a bite of candy right before supper.
Great. You were staring. He caught you staring.
"Oh, uh. Yeah, you do that." You just smile like an idiot, having forgotten why you knocked in the first place at this point and quickly avert your eyes, haphazardly tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear in a failed attempt to busy yourself with any kind of movement, anything to dissipate the cloud of tension (or awkwardness, you tended to get delusional sometimes so you weren't so sure) that had loomed over the two of you.
"That song you were playing. It's really nostalgic. I didn't know you had a thing for the oldies." You beam at him with a tilt of your head, expertly deflecting from whatever he might have said after following your eyes that cast down. And maybe even an implicit apology for your irritated banging earlier
"Yeah? You know it?" His stoic eyes light up ever so slightly with a glint of enthusiasm, and you wouldn't have noticed it at all had you not been standing mere inches from his form.
"Yeah, my dad used to blast it in the car all the time I almost got sick of it."
"Well, he's got taste." His lips curl up in a faint smile, and he pauses for a moment, internally battling with himself at the inevitable prospect of having to cut this conversation short, so he does what any normal person would do, perking up slightly and gesturing behind him, "Hey, you uh, wanna come in? You could watch me play or something, I dunno."
This was the closest Choso was ever going to get to making a move. Quite frankly, he expected a rejection right then and there, and he would have preferred if you just got it over with as soon as possible instead of staring at him with wide eyes and an indecipherable expression, but you would have been a fool to decline his invitation. After all, this was your chance to get…closer to him. Whatever that may mean, and so you too did what any normal person would do...
"Yeah, sure!"
Accept his invitation.
It takes him a moment to realize you've said yes, going into a momentary stupor, and if you didn't know any better, you'd think he was...shocked. Though he doesn't hesitate in retreating to the side, holding the door open for you with his free hand. There was plenty of room to smoothly make your way inside, and yet you deliberately brush your hip against his arm as you wiggle in, fleetingly glancing up at him with a knowing smile, because, my god, there was no denying the fact that he caught onto your subtle gesture, pulse quickening and faint flush steadily creeping up his cheekbones as he averts his eyes some place else to avoid your own. He's so cute.
"Neat room." You trail off as you make your way around, unceremoniously plopping down on his gaming chair.
"Thanks. Your posture is terrible, by the way." He quips with a quirk of his eyebrow, making his way over to sit across you on the carpeted floor.
"Oh well, aren't you a peach, insulting me in my own home!" You glare at him, voice laced with feigned offense that hardly masks your amusement.
"Your own home? You're in my room."
"This entire building is the home in question."
"That makes no sense becau—"
"Shut up!"
“Ok sorry.”
My god, he really is so cute, and you wonder when was the last time your heart fluttered at a man as he pliantly drops the subject and crosses his legs, adjusting the guitar in his arms. He’s wearing Christmas socks in March, you note. Gotta marry him. When hes happy with his posture, he glances back up at you as you swivel and spin in his chair like a child.
“Got anything in mind?” He tilts his head to the side, calloused fingers absently strumming on amp-less strings.
"Something easy to play. I know a thing or two about guitar you know. You're not the only cool one here." You quip with crossed arms.
"That so?" Choso chuckles at your words, grabbing his pick and steadying his posture. " 'Kay, how about this?"
He starts off softly, a recognizable riff reverberating within the walls of his dark-lit room, and the notes are barely audible over the buzzing of the air conditioner. His eyes cast down to watch the movement of his fingers, head bobbing slightly to tone-less notes and foot tapping leisurely to the rhythm. You watch. Your eyes focus on his face, then fall to his dexterous hands, then back up to his face. Was he always this sexy? It takes you a moment to realize he had stopped playing, wrist relaxing and eyes following your own.
"'Smoke on the Water?' Really?" You snort at him with an incredulous look on your face and he frowns in return, his lower lip jutting out in an offended pout.
"What? You said easy to play. Besides, it'd sound better if I play it plugged, but somebody would have a problem with that."
He blinks at you. You blink at him. Then you burst into a fit of laughter, causing him to subconsciously replace his own pout with a smile that mirrors your own. He's so lost in every wave of your hand and shake of your shoulders that it takes him a second to register what you say a few seconds later as your giggles die down.
"You're cute. Like, really cute."
You're going to kill him.
"Ah, y-you too.." Great. How fucking lame, pathetic even. Did he really just say that?
"Teach me guitar... Mr. You Too." You say a little too breathlessly, a sweet lilt to your pretty voice that has blood rushing to places he'd rather it didn't. But god, was he supposed to just ignore the way you were looking at him right now? The way your arms squeezed those perfect tits of yours together over the thin silk of your sleepwear? The soft flesh of your thighs spilling past your tiny shorts? How was he supposed to foc—
"Sure." Swirling thoughts and rushing blood are set aside. He rises to his feet, taking a step toward your sitting figure and meekly handing you his guitar, something incredibly surprising in and of itself, because typically hell would break loose if a soul dared touch his guitar, but it was you. And he liked you. So damn much it almost hurt.
You take it from his hands, fingers brushing against his own. Awkwardly, you try to adjust the startlingly heavy instrument within your arms, struggling to set it at the right angle, huffing and puffing to yourself as Choso does nothing but watch you with a lazy snicker in your state of distress, and when you finally manage on your own, the notes come out far from what you had expected, deepening the frown on your face. Choso thinks you look adorable when you're mad, but he's not so cruel, so he senses your distaste at the muffled notes and plugs the guitar into the amp for you. His lips curl into a little smile as he watches your face light up.
"Woah! How does it literally sound so different?" You gawk in excitement at the rich timbre of crunchy notes.
"Trippy as fuck, isn't it?"
You hum in acknowledgement and rack your brain for the right notes to play. Which string was D again? More frowning. More pouting, and Choso remains unmoving, too fixated on your cute expressions to do anything.
He feels bad. Eventually.
"Here, let me help you." Gruff voice reassures you softly as he makes his way behind your chair, hunching forward, breath fanning against your cheek, and fingers planted over your own, so very gently guiding you to the needed fret. The distinct scent of cedar wood and whisky floods your senses and fuck, you don't even want to play anymore. You want him. All of him. Maybe if you just—
"Choso..."
"Hmm?"
You're not even sure what came over you, but your head is suddenly void of reason when you turn your face to his and crash your lips on his own. So soft. This is what you were missing? Fuck it, there's no time to be embarrassed of your boldness-out of the blue, not when he returns your kiss with as much fervor, lips melding with your own and tongue eagerly swiping over yours, and definitely not when he’s picking you up and throwing you on his bed, climbing right after you and situating you on his lap. Guitar lays forgotten as it haphazardly rests on the chair across the room. His thoughts are all of you, and you of him.
"This okay?" He mutters quietly, like he was embarrassed, cheeks flushed as he seeks permission to place his hands on your hips. You smile down at him, wordlessly placing your hands over his rough ones and guiding them to your curves. How could a man looking so strong be this gentle?
Before he could say anything more, your lips are on his again, tongue sucking on his own and fingers entangled in tousled strands of jet black hair, hips grinding frantically against his lap, feeling him harden under you with every delicate roll of your hips.
"Mmph.." He groans softly into the kiss, grip tightening impossibly on your hips as he guides your movements. Up, down. Left, right. Fuck, he's wanted this for so long he might cum in his pants from this alone. That won't do. What would you think then? He's got to hold out, he's got to—
"sh-shit." Pulling away from those glossy lips of yours, he buries his face in your neck, breath ragged and hands halting your grinding hips. You were so lost in your feels that it took you a second to put two and two together, glancing down and seeing the object of his distress; A dark patch of precum staining his sweats. What a development.
"So worked up just from this? You're so cute." You coo at him so sweetly, so softly he thinks he might just lose his mind, and your hands find his pretty, blushing face, gingerly cupping his cheeks to place a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth and trailing down to his jaw. You nip and suck on his skin, sloppy kisses peppered along his jaw and down the junction of his neck and shoulder, a hand reaching under his shirt to brush against his abdomen, and just as he thought his heart couldn't race any faster, he could feel it vigorously thump against his ribs with the tickle of your breath against his earlobe.
"Just... let me. Wanna make you cum all pretty for me." You whisper so tenderly against his skin when your hand reached for the waistband of his sweats only for him to block it with a grip to your wrist, too flustered to have you see him that way. But, god, with the way your voice drips with honey, your soft fingers dance along the skin of his stomach, your warm breath teases his cheek, he's got no choice but to hand himself over to you. Let you have him whichever way you pleased. Make him feel good.
His grip around your wrist loosens and his hand rises back up to your waist. He's biting his lip, eyes so dazed already and you haven't even done anything yet. You search his features for any signs of discomfort, finding none and taking it as invitation to go further. You slowly reach into his sweats, palming him through his boxers and grazing your nails over his thighs. So agonizing.
"Please..." Choso whimpers, desperate, soft, and fucking hell, it's your turn to cover your face, a surge of electricity traveling up your spine from his voice alone. You don't respond, your actions speaking for themselves as you pull his twitching cock from within its confines and give it a few experimental pumps, slowly circling your thumb over his slit and smearing precum along the rest of his length. His breath hitches at the contact, tip so wet and sensitive as arousal dribbles down his cock in a shiny stream.
"You're so perfect like this. Doing so good for me, Cho..."
Stop it.
"You're gonna kill me if you keep saying shit like that..." He hisses so faintly you barely catch it, and brings his forehead to rest on your shoulder as your hand sets a rhythmic pace around his cock, twisting around the base when you glide down and the tip when you glide back up. At least if you couldn't see his face and him yours, he'll last longer. Maybe.
"Do you like it though?"
Of course he likes it. What kind of question even was that? Could you not see the way he involuntarily bucked into your hand with every word of praise you gave him? How a brilliant blush crept up his cheeks as you called him cute that first time around? How he could barely keep himself upright just now? But he tells you none of those things, instead, he nods against your shoulder, eyes closed and hands brushing up your waist so gently you almost melt into his arms.
"Yeah, keep talking—fuck, j-just keep talking."
And you do just that, dipping to suck on the exposed side of his thick neck as you murmur every honeyed word you could muster. "You like it, huh? Look at you bucking into my hand all pretty. Makin' me wet with all those sounds you're making." And fuck, he groans so loudly in acknowledgement, hips jerking upward to meet your strokes like a bitch in heat. You pump him as expertly as you've been doing this entire time, deft hand relentlessly gliding up and down, determined to make him cum all over you, to give you what you've been craving for as long as you could remember, because fuck was he so pretty like this, black strands damp with sweat as they stuck to his face, body shuddering with each and every touch of your hands, lips parted and his breath fanning against your shoulder, flush reaching all the way down to his neck. Hell. You might be the one to cum untouched after all.
"I-if you keep this up m'gonna—fuck..m'gonna cum."
You don't stop.
"Then cum. Wanna see your face when you do though. Wanna see how good it feels, Cho." You murmur desperately against the side of his neck, his face still nuzzled in your shoulder, but your tender coaxing drives him to meet your gaze, lips parted and breath picking up as his chest rises and falls in tandem with his jerking hips. His eyebrows furrow, his head falls back, he bucks violently into your hand, a throaty groan tumbles past his lips and he grips your hips so hard you're positive it'll leave a bruise.
"Oh fuckfuckfuck c-cumming..." He babbles frantically, so lost in the feeling and you stroke him vigorously through his high, watching as his cock twitches and a string of thick white shoots past your hand, painting your fingers and the hem of his black shirt porcelain. Delicately, your movements slow down, eyes not leaving his face for a single second, though he's too busy attempting to recompose himself to notice your relentless gaze.
"You did so good." You finally coo at him softly.
"Whatever." He murmurs, averting his eyes as fast as they met your own and covering his face with the back of his hand, post-nut clarity finally hitting him like a truck.
"Don't be like that!" You stifle a giggle and swat his arm, watching as he refuses to look at you like some teenager touching a girl for the first time, and you lean over him, gingerly bringing his face in your hands.
"Hi." You grin down at him, your hair tickling his face and giving him a good reason to close his eyes, avoiding your gaze even further.
"Hey."
"By the way, I have a question that's been eating me up for ages."
"What is it?" His curiosity piques, eyes finally meeting your own.
"Why do you always show up to games when you look half-asleep and bored out of your mind every single time?"
He eyes you incredulously. Out of all the things you could've asked at a time like this...
"Ah, my little brother is on the team. I've gotta be there for him somehow."
You're squeaking and giddily bouncing in his lap and he thinks you've gone crazy, staring blankly at you as you bring your hands to squish at his cheeks yet again. "That's so adorable! You're so adorable! Who is it? It's Yuji isn't it? I knew it! I somehow did. I'm so sure it is!"
"Whatefuh you shay, and yeah. Can you let go of m'face now."
"Right! Sorry--" You let his cheeks fall back into place and begin to rise from his lap, but he holds you back down with a firm grip to your waist.
"Where're you goin'? You didn't get to cum." He drawls, raspy voice hitting you right in your core as he leans closer, lips brushing against your own as he speaks again. "I'll make it up to you... 'Just let me.' "
Fine, you'll just let him then...
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@kimhargreeves
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aethelwyneleigh27 · 5 months
Text
Dad!Cod Scenarios
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I had thoughts on these racked up in my brain about CoD characters having kids and what type of parents they'd be in a scenario or drabble manner.
Tag list: @puff0o0, @simp4konig, @blingblong55, @azereus, @rustic-guitar-notes, @shadofireshinobi, @anonymuslydumb, @skeletalgoats, @icarustypicalfall, @ghosts-cyphera,@connorsui is at it again, making me blush over her words, AHHHHH I LOVE HER. Did I tag almost everyone I know here? Yes, yes I did 😭
Characters Included: John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, König, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Gary "Roach" Sanderson.
(Implied?? Wife!Reader, Parent!Reader. Not really specified, so gender neutral!Reader)
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❥ Dad!John Price is the type of dad who'd fondly tell your kids about how you met, tell them stories about his time in the army, his experiences with their uncles and aunts from 141. Enjoying how their little faces express something great, admiring how cool their dad was for being so brave to constantly and willingly put his life on the line in the means of saving people. They tried telling him that they want to follow in his footsteps but that is a big no no. The last thing he wants is them willingly throwing themselves in danger and the risk was far too much.
❥ Dad!Johnny MacTavish is the type of dad to make his kids laugh by blowing raspberries on whatever body part his kids are ticklish on, he enjoys hearing their laughter and giggles. Definitely is the man who grew up with quite a big family so he'd love to have a full house if you were up to having it with him. He's such a family man to the bone, knows how things work around and mostly knows what to say and do when it comes to the kids.
❥ Dad!Kyle Garrick is the type of dad to dance with his kids, letting them have their little feet on top of his, letting them pick the music and guiding the little one. Having them smile and look up at him, his little one thinking it was just the best thing in the world to spend quality time with their dad. Swaying them around while they call him giggling, letting out squeals after he spins them. (I NEED GIRL DAD!GAZ 🥺😭)
❥ Dad!Simon Riley is the type of dad who absolutely HATES it when his kids cry, always doing his best to console them, depending on what made them upset. Being the one to patch them up when it's because of a "boo-boo", god forbid it's because of another person, he'd either make that kid piss themselves or that adult will NEVER see the light of day again. Because of that, the little one always finds themselves looking for their dad's comfort.
❥ Dad!Gary Sanderson who is the type of dad who finds so many ways to make his kid feel appreciated, whether that'd be through letting them help out and make them feel needed, thanking them and returning the favor for handmade gifts on days like Father's day or Valentine's day. The little one is always so eagerly awaiting for their dad to come home, knowing he'd be bearing so meaningful gift that goes in the memory box.
❥ Dad!Alejandro Vargas who is the type of dad who's strict but also not at the same time. Safe to say he did not have fun when Soap taught his kid to curse in Spanish when he first met the kid, that was probably Alejandro's fault for teaching Soap Spanish curses anyway. That kid is going to be loved I tell you, Alejandro has taken them to work just so they can see what he does and safe to say they loved being around everyone that Alejandro works with. (More likely that they still do this together however Alejandro is VERY strict since it's dangerous for the kid to even be out there)
❥ Dad!Rodolfo Parra who is the type of dad whose domestic, he has many memorabilias and scrapbooks of his kid's milestones, even kept the teeth that fell out. Always finding ways to spend time with the kids, whether it'd be through something as simple but meaningful as teaching them Spanish or taking them out to eat. His kids love and adore him, finding that the best time they spend with him is when he lets them talk about their day, listening in and validating their thoughts.
❥ Dad!König who is the type of dad who finds himself absolutely terrified that he's responsible for such a tiny thing. He's extremely protective of them, seeing his little kid whimper and point at something that caused them pain (even if it was by their own accord), König finds himself comforting the little one by soothing their crying and kicking whatever inanimate object it was just to make them feel better. He already hurt himself once or twice doing that and it did make his kid laugh, anything that makes them happy right?
❥ Dad!Kim Hong-Jin who is the type of dad whose a bit irresponsible at times, he tends to roughhouse with his kid a lot. There's definitely a lot of physical and playful activities with him in the means of spending time. He doesn't mean anything by it, just quality time, his kid is one of the reasons behind him stopping his gambling addiction. He wanted to set an example for them. The last thing he wants is for his kid to remember him by something negative so he does his best to spend time with them a lot despite him getting deployed.
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Sidenote: I wrote this at 1 am and it was fun but my eyes hurt now, I have plans to go out tomorrow with a friend. Now regarding your guys' requests, ISTG I'm not ignoring you guys, I'm just not in the right headspace to write them except for a few I'm currently working on.
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nexusnyx · 1 year
Note
omg congrats on 10.5k, thats frickin amazing!! ♡ if you feel like writing it,
🖋 + joel miller
"you couldn't love me if you tried. You couldn't love anything"
"that's not true"
hi Rhi! first, thank you so much. i stared at your prompt 'till the scene came to me, and i hope you like it. — main masterlist | 🏷️: established 'situationship', post-outbreak, insecure!Reader, angst, hurt/comfort, insecure!Joel, mentions of smut, adult themes so minors DNI, feelings confession. [WC: 2.1k]
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ˗ˏˋ꒰ you call it madness ꒱
Joel had the power to awaken the most potent, brand-new things to your surface. Since he had arrived in Jackson with the bright kid trailing after him and his mountains of pent-up trauma, Joel lived under your skin.
At first, it was because of his cold, indifferent distance.
Then, when the first couple of months passed by and working side by side forced proximity on you two leading you to the realization that a lot of the gruffness and silence was just a facade, the issue became his nonchalant air of detached.
Everything you wanted was to have in him the same effect he had on you.
That tingle. That burn on your nape when the person enters the room. The hype-awareness of their every move. You wanted Joel attached to you, glued to your skin, and when you got it, he made you swallow all your need and desire down with the bitter pill of what having you Joel meant.
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Having Joel came with the taste of cheap alcohol, the scent of burnt things, and that quivering darkness that seemed to follow him unless Ellie was around.
It came with his ghosts hanging off his back, and his mind stuck in a limbo that cemented in him the idea that his ghosts weighted more than they did.
It took him months to allow you into his life. Months of you trying to figure out why he pissed you off so much and why even though his monosyllabic bullshit made your skin itch, you still found a way to interact with him at every given opportunity.
When he started laughing at your jokes—no, when Joel started snickering under his breath whenever you made a sharp comment to a fellow worker, it became your addiction. The fact that you were not other people.
Not for him.
Wearing him down was supposed to be about getting him off of your mind, removing him from under your skin.
It ended up being your ticket into his home, his life, his bed.
Joel had this power of making you do things you had no clue you even knew how.
Things that the you from before — a someone who’d been deceased long ago — would gasp out loud at.
But fuck all of that. Fuck anything that strayed away from being the reason for Joel Miller laughing, or god forbid, making him and Ellie happy. 
You’d take it all to pay the price for that.
You’d accept his days of silence and his days of trying to make jokes, or teach you and Ellie how to play the guitar eve if you sucked at it and the girl had what seemed like a natural talent.
So what if Joel sometimes bled his darkness all over you?
You begged for it.
So what if he whispered the filthiest things in your ear as he took you wherever he wanted, however he wanted, claiming you over and over with fingerprints imprinted on your skin, beard burns leaving red trails from your face and neck all the way down to places other people would never get a chance to look at again, according to Joel himself?
Considering how welcoming you were to all of it, one would think you’d know your place. Or at least know better than to expect out of Joel Miller something he stopped believing he can give to anyone a long time ago.
Despite your best judgment, you did hope. You wished, and dreamt of it, and cried about it in silent tears on his damn pillow when he turned away from you to sleep sometimes.
It goes on until he catches up to all of it. 
Joel always catches up to things. Especially if that thing is related to you.
On a winter night, a whole year after he and Ellie have settled and officially made a home, you two are discussing things after dinner in his kitchen.
Ellie went to a friend’s house, leaving the both of you to your shitty pizzas and even shittier booze. Joel, propped against the sink with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his hair a messy mop of curls, looks pissed off at your comment that, “she gotta at least put the Miller stare away. Time it properly, if she wants to make more friends.”
It was supposed to be a joke. Something only you two would understand. Instead, Joel turns around with that pinch between his eyes.
“What’s that’s supposed to mean?”
You put the mug down, thrown back by his tone, making a noncommittal sound. He repeats his question, confirming you did hear what you thought, and it makes you snicker. “Joel. Would you like a goddamn mirror right now, handsome?”
The nickname does nothing to phase his look. “You sayin’ I’m a bad influence on her? That I’m the reason she ain’t got no other friends?’
“Woah, woah—take it many, many steps back, cowboy—”
“I ain’t laughin’. I don’t know why you are.”
“Because it’s ridiculous!” All your ironic humor is gone. Evaporated like water under the scolding sun. “D’you hear yourself? I said time it properly, Joel. I know exactly just how useful the grouchy look is, trust me.”
“I don’t tell her to do that shit. She’s always been like that.” He turns back around with that stiffness in his shoulders.
“I know.” You try calming yourself, your voice, your tone. Joel can be prickly, as can you. “It’s… her little way. It makes Ellie Ellie, and honestly, it’s what makes her stand out. Her personality’s one of a kind, that’s for sure, and I wouldn’t trade an inch of it for anything else, but she’s—impulsive. And while I love, all I’m sayin is—”
“Other people don’t,” he completes.
“Exactly.”
There was the noise of the final dishes being placed to dry, and Joel cleaning up his work.
“You love how impulsive she is?” Although Joel’s finished, he keeps his back to you. His tone is back to an amused one, for some reason.
“Sure I do.” You loved her since you two were out of town and got stuck in a blizzard together, and Ellie told you about her friend Riley. Loved, with every fiber in you. “It’s not useful, but it just means her fire’s alive. I like that. It’s better than the alternative. You know what happens when people’s fires die.”
At that, Joel finally turns around, drying his hands in his own clothes, fixing his dark eyes on you. “Yeah. I’ve got a mirror.”
God, you think. There he goes again.
You sigh, annoyed and angry, just like that. In a split second. Because of four little words. “If you’re gonna start talking shit about yourself—”
Joel cuts you with his laugh. “Sorry. ‘m sorry.” He steps closer to you, pulling the chair he was using during dinner closer until it’s glued on yours, and he sits. “Dunno why you hate it so much, but I’ve leared better. I’ll keep my mouth shut.”
Better than the alternative, you guessed. You hummed, not that over your sudden wave of anger.
The way he saw himself contrasted who he was so much that it pissed you off more than any Clicker ever could.
“Hey.” Joel brings up one hand to cup your cheek, and it soothes his cold hand over your jaw, landing on your nape. “‘s fine. I won’t be talkin’ about broken old me, ‘kay?”
Fire raged in your veins and his hand on your neck was the only anchor keeping your from storming off his house.
“It’s like you wanna piss me off sometimes.”
Joel has the audacity to laugh at you. “I just said I ain’t gonna say anythin’, woman.”
“You’re not broken,” you argue, serious and angry enough to get that insanely stupidly gorgeous and self-depracating smile out of his face.
“We’ll just agree to disagree here—”
“No, we fucking won’t. You’re not a thing, you can’t broken if you’re not a thing.”
“That’s funny, ‘cause I feel a lot of fuckin’ pieces missing.” Joel rarely speaks with that roughness directed towards you, but that’s better. Realer than the sardonic smile. He sighs deeply, his face relaxing a second after. Tired, he squeezes your neck. “Look—I made a stupid joke. I know you don’t like me talkin’ shit about myself for lord knows what reason, so I won’t—”
“‘Cause they’re not true.”
It surprises you both, you think. The crack in your voice. The shimmery wetness in your vision blurring the sight of a stunned Joel certainly surprises you. 
You swallow the knot in your throat, but it’s stuck there. You speak around it anyway. “It’s the same way you feel when they talk about ‘er, ok?” You sniffle, looking away from him to blink down the tears. “I fucking hate it.”
It’s how you feel when they shittalk Ellie.
The words hang in the air for a heavy second until you realize what you’ve laid on the table.
Joel loves Ellie. That much is known.
You love Ellie. That much was known, too.
When he speaks again, Joel is the one who sounds choked. "You couldn't love me if you tried. You couldn't love anything." It pulls your gaze back to him. “Not about me. Ain’t nothing about me worth lovin’.” He shakes his head, and his hand is gone from your neck, leaving only the cold ghost of it in the process. 
You couldn’t love me. 
It’s your turn to laugh.
"That's not true." 
He paused, and you saw his Addam's apple bobbing before he shakes his head, still in disbelief.
“You know what I did. More than anyone I’ve met before. You know there’s nothing here to love.”
“That’s your excuse?”
“It’s the fuckin’ truth,” Joel’s starting to sound on the verge of tears, and your eyes glue to his face.
“Joel, I don’t know what was misunderstood in my little nod and silence when you shared all those things about your past that night, but let me make something clear to you—I know the difference.” Joel’s frown between hsi brown deepens, but his eyes remain on yours. “You think I don’t? Don’t you ever condescend me to the point of thinking I don’t know the different between what’s rotten and what’s not in this world.”
Not saying ‘between what’s good and bad’ is a deliberate choice, and it keeps Joel’s attention hooked.
Somehow, you know this is your only chance, so you forego all thinking and just allow all your feelings for him to pour out of your pores and slip through your lips. 
“I heard all you told me and I don’t give a fuck about what you did when dissassociating out of your mind. What you did to survive, or what you did ‘cause you saw all the real rotten all around. When you say shit like ‘ain’t nothin’ about me worth living’ you put yourself in the same sack as people like that fucker David or other people who really are rotten. Who did and are horrible outta pleasure. Outta desire for it. And that is not you.”
If you could reach to him, this was when.
You lean forward, making the distance between you both smaller. 
This time, you cup his neck.
“And let me make this crystal clear ‘cause apparently it wasn’t. That last thing you did? To save her?” You breathe deeply. “If it was me in your place, I would’ve done the exact fucking same. A room full of wannabe scientists and a bunch of equipment from god knows when, swearing that killing the only person who’s apparently immue is gonna solve something?” You scoff. “Joel, I would’ve burned that building to the ground with everyone in it.”
"You…"
The words never come to him.
Instead, what comes forward is Joel.
Something in your speech breaks the dem that you had no idea existed, and Joel floods towards you.
Crashing his lips against yours, he devours.
His kiss demands a surrender because it delivers things he never gave you before. Joel holds onto your face like a lifeline, groaning against your mouth and lifting both of your bodies to press you closer to him, suddenly desperate. Suddenly devout, and it spills from his eyes.
When Joel pulls back to look at you, there’s a fright and a hope in them that makes you realize why he turned around. Why he kept his distance.
Joel thought you could never get him. Not truly, and not personally.
“You…” he whispers, lips still touching yours. His eyes are saying so much that words evaded him. “I…” Joel swallows so thickly that you hear it this time, and it draws a whimper from you.
“I know, Joel,” you whine, pulling him in for another kiss.I know you could. That maybe now you’ll allow yourself to, all your kisses say. I already do. I already do.
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🏷 @sakuralikestars — @mostardentily — @thegreat-annamaria — @leiticia — @polyglot-noodle — @casssiopeiaaa — @levylovegood — @simply-sams-things — @lavenderhhze — @gracie7209 — @waywardwolfbonklight — @shadytalething — @yesimwriting — @celestialstar111 — @averysblog — @pedrostories — @fleursirvart — @sirtommyholland — @capbrie — @hawsx3 — @superflymaterial — @ashleyforeverareject — @girlofchaos — @queerponcho — @am-3-thyst — @nyotamalfoy — @my-tearsricochet — @ponyboys-sunsets — @peqchsoup
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ* . join my Fireplace celebration. *
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rogueddie · 2 years
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Steve got very lucky in middle school. If anyone other than Tommy had decided to befriend him, he's not sure they would have put up with him so long. And Tommy told him when he was doing something weird, told him what he should be doing instead. Without him, Steve would never have been popular in high school. He would've been seen as the freak.
It makes him feel weird, sitting with Robin and Eddie at one of the tables in the trailer park. They're everything he was taught to avoid. And Tommy had worked very hard to teach him the 'social rules'.
But he loves them. Even when they joke about him being 'the normal one'. Out of all the friends he's had come and go, they're easily the best. They don't even comment when he starts to slip back into his odd behaviors, when he stops trying so hard to follow 'the rules'.
He can still remember that first time he'd refused to force himself to talk. It was one of those days when it felt like so much effort. Plus, he just didn't want to.
So he didn't. He grunted a lot, hummed or shrugged. Robin didn't act like he was behaving any different, though she had looked a little confused at first. Then she'd just gone with it. She'd even nudged when it looked like Eddie was going to push. They didn't treat him any different that day, they didn't ask when he started talking again the next day.
It was always like that. They just... went with it.
Even when Eddie had accidentally prompted Steve into... well, a lecture. He'd just asked a few questions about the picture of a car Steve had framed, the only thing he has for decoration. He'd asked a couple things about it and, almost an hour later, Steve realized that he'd just been talking the whole time.
"Sorry," Steve grimaced, keeping his eyes locked on the picture. "Didn't mean to, like, bore you. Whatever."
"Nah. It's interesting. It's also kind of cool to actually hear you passionate about something. Wouldn't have thought it was cars though."
And that had been it. If anything changed, it was just because Eddie would ask about cars more often. Would almost push him into talking about all the little things he found fascinating. Almost like he wanted to hear about it- but Steve knew that wasn't the case.
It didn't make sense.
"Why do you keep asking about this shit?" Steve had finally snapped one day. "Do... I mean, you don't find this interesting, do you?"
"Not at all. You do though."
"So why do you keep asking?"
"You like it," Eddie shrugged, finally looked confused. "You let me go on rants about guitars and shit. You don't care about any of that."
"That's different though!"
"Is it?"
"Yes! It's..." Steve flounders for a moment. He doesn't know how to explain it. "It's just... it is."
"Well, it isn't to me. I like hearing about all the little nonsense you find interesting."
"But it's-"
"Steve." Eddie leans forward, grabbing his hand. Steve stares at their hands, slowly shifting so their fingers are entwined. "You get so excited when you talk about all your little car facts. It's adorable."
"It's not... weird or annoying?"
"You think I'd be put off by something weird?" He snorts, looks hesitant for a moment before lifting their hands up, pressing a light kiss to the back of his hand. "It's something you enjoy and makes you happy. Why would that annoy me?"
Steve tries to swallow, his mouth feeling painfully dry. "Am I reading this right?"
"Yeah. I think so, anyway. I can't figure you out half the time. You're gonna need to take that risk, baby boy."
So he does. And he's right.
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i-would-f-me · 22 days
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sal fisher headcanons
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i've literally never been so horrendously down bad for a character before.. so i HAD to share my head canons for sal :3
CW: NSFW AHEAD!!
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fluff <3
♡ he would try to teach you guitar, even if you arent very good at it...
♡ if you have sh scars, he'd kiss them over and over and over again, no matter where they are
♡ blushes over everything you do, any little touch you give him, he gets flustered over
♡ "ummmmm... uhh- i- well.. umm"
♡ he loves giving you things. for whatever reason, he's always gifting you small trinkets to show his love for you. his favorite excuse for buying you something is "it reminded me of you!"
♡ not the kinda guy who goes for looks. no matter how 'ugly' you think you are, he'll wholeheartedly see you as the most beautiful person in the world.
♡ with that being said.. he'd definitely stop in his tracks if he saw a cutie :3
♡ (IT'S YOU, YOU'RE THE CUTIE. EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU IS HIS TYPE. GOD, HOW ARE YOU SO PERFECT FOR HIM??)
♡ if you ever mention something in a conversation (a band you like, a cool movie you just watched or a book you read, etc.) he's definitely going home and learning all he can about it.
♡ wholesome romance like those in the romcom movies
♡ "i love everybody because i love you" /ref /ly
♡ would totally let you paint his nails, do his hair, anything like that. he loves when you make him feel pretty <3
♡ doesn't want anyone to know this, but he loves wearing your clothes. like, you know the whole "wearing you bf's jacket/hoodie" thing? that's what he wants, but with your clothes.
♡ obviously he won't deny you his hoodie, but deep down he's waiting for you to give him yours
♡ LOVES giving long, deep, passionate hugs. hugs and cuddle sessions that can go on for an hour. he loves squeezing you against him, it makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside; being so close to someone he loves so much
♡ he WILL sniff you. he can't get enough of your scent. at first he was scared you would think it was weird, but now he does it freely. he's a very sensual person, and because of his disability (possibly impaired sight?), he often relies on his other senses to soak up every little piece of you.
♡ he loves wrapping you in his arms, cradling and comforting you if he knows you need it.
♡ he's excellent at reading you. he feels like he knows you best. despite being someone who can't really show his emotions through his expressions, he's amazing at reading yours.
♡ you don't even have to tell him anythings wrong. he knows when you need a hug.
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nsfw :3
♡ definitely has a mommy kink. argue with the wall.
♡ it just slipped out one day.. you were riding him, making him feel good and warm, and all of a sudden he let out a small "m-mommy..!"
♡ that being said, he LOVES having you on top of him
♡ while you're straddling him, he grabs you by your hips to make sure you're not going anywhere
♡ very shy + whimpering mess
♡ the kind to not know where to put his hands
♡ that doesn't mean he sometimes doesn't have a dom side to him...
♡ he's definitely a giver. he prioritizes your pleasure before his own
♡ he's insecure about his ability to turn you on, make you cum, etc. he always tries his hardest to make you feel good, and lets just say it always works :3
♡ jerks off to the thought of you more than he would like to admit
♡ has a VERY vivid imagination.
♡ oh god the things he thinks about doing to you are almost to embarrassing for him to admit
♡ very sweet and loving the whole time. he's huge on praise, and would rather die than ever make you uncomfortable. your sessions are filled with millions of
"are you liking that?" "you're doing so good for me." "are you okay with this?" "you feel amazing (y/n)"
♡ he needs 100% confirmation on your dirty suggestions. you could make a hint, but won't act on it until he's absolutely sure you mean it (obviously you always do, but god is this boy insecure.)
♡ doesn't seem like it, but will fuck you like a rabbit. it's always the quiet, sweet boys who are the dirtiest behind closed doors :3
♡ likes being bitten. idk. idc. IDGAF.
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arminsumi · 8 months
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SUGURU LEARNING THE PIANO FOR YOU.
𝐆. 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 — 夏油傑
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NOTE: pls ignore errors this is just a silly little fluff idea that popped into my head and i wrote it in one swing without planning so yes anyways REQUESTS ARE OPEN gimme all ur suguru/satoru/satosugu thoughts pls i accept fluff n smut n angst 🫡 or if u just wanna chat i promise i don't bite hehe
WARNINGS — lowercase used, fem reader, suguru calls you 'princess' once, a small bit of angst and self-deprecation (Suguru), kinda implied that satosugu both crush on you in college, gojo teasing you two bc he's an annoying little shit and i love him for that
JJK works
🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !
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you met him when he was in his final year of high school, in the music room during after a practice lesson with his uptight teacher.
geto suguru was a little bit of a showoff, especially when he saw your face walk into the room. some friends and others hung around him — you know, he's just that kinda person that people want to hang around and be close to and talk to even if they have nothing of interest to say.
he was thumbing at a bass, eyeing you out without making it obvious. each time you tried to speak, someone interrupted like a twittering bird, and it annoyed him like nothing else.
so the next time you two met delighted him — because you were left alone. at first he pretended not to notice you coming in, but he had sharp ears and definitely heard the soft thumping of your footsteps. he had his eyes fixed on his guitar, twisting and turning the pegs at the head, testing until it was tuned to perfection. and then played something smooth and sultry, a melody that wove through the seats and other standing instruments right over to you.
"hey suguru."
"oh hey, didn't notice you there." he lied, voice as smooth and deep as the notes he had just played.
"mind if i listen?" you asked, taking a seat close to him — but not close enough for him. he wanted you closer. oh well, he decided that he'd use his talented fingers to allure you into closer proximity.
"of course." he smiled and continued playing nonchalantly.
that nonchalance is what caught so many high school girl's hearts. he never stopped being popular with the ladies even in college.
and come college, he picked up another instrument to learn; the piano. difficult. challenging. annoying. despite the benefit of his long fingers and naturally graceful movements, it just didn't come as naturally to him as stringed instruments.
but he knew you liked the piano, or so he thought, because he heard you compliment it once when satoru played piano in front of you.
so he asked his best friend, "can you teach me to play this song? it's y/n's favorite." naively thinking that it would be simple. a week is all it took for him to start letting out exasperated sighs over the keyboard.
"suguru, don't be so harsh on yourself." satoru said after hearing a self-deprecating speech from him, "piano is hard. you need a lot of patience, especially if it doesn't come naturally."
"i'm clumsy." suguru sighed, eyes saddening at the sight of his fingers resting over the black and white keys. "i don't think y/n will care to hear her favorite song being played so poorly. she'll force a compliment out of kindness. she's sweet like that."
"it's been a week." satoru shook his head, bumping legs with suguru as he changed his sitting position on the piano seat. "no one in the world is gonna be even averagely good at the piano in a week - that's impossible unless you're — "
" — a real prodigy. like someone i know." suguru smiled, teasing his best friend out of nowhere. "ah, satoru, what i'd give to have a crumb of your talent right now."
he earned a sympathetic arm around his shoulders.
"must suck to be talentless." satoru joked, "kidding. keep practicing, i wanna see those hands moving when i come back. want anything from the store?"
"diet coke." suguru said, "and something spicy? thanks."
when the white-haired boy lankily strode out of the music theater, the atmosphere became somberly quiet. it was a big theater, much bigger than the cramped music room back in high school.
just when suguru had began lamely practicing again, you walked in. he was so caught up in self-deprecating thoughts, so distracted by his own inner criticism, that he didn't notice.
"hey suguru." you greeted, giving him the fright of his life — he visibly jumped, causing a jarring sound to whine from the piano.
"hey? hey! what — hey." he freaked out for a second, then composed himself, "good to see you again, where you been?"
"i'm sorry — prof's been on my ass about missing assignments. and sorry for never replying to messages," you chuckled nervously, coming to an idle stand next to the piano as he watched you. "i'm so shit at texting."
"that you are..." he laughed with you, "but i'm not much better. i prefer talking face-to-face." and he thought to himself; especially if it's your face.
you smiled at him. a small silence passed, then you nodded at the piano and inquired about it. "practicing?"
"yeah... kind of."
"can i listen?"
he began to blush. you'd never seen him blush before that. it was so subtle that you were almost unsure if it really was blush — or just a trick of the noon light streaming in through the tiny square windows.
"i'm really bad." suguru responded self-consciously, nervously wiping his palms on his dress pants.
"don't care, i wanna listen." you pushed, catching hint of his self-consciousness and deciding to attempt to break through it.
"ah, 'nything for my princess, i guess." he chuckled softly under his breath. he'd started using that nickname with you only recently, 'cause he'd been falling more and more in love than in high school.
so he sat and played the piano for you.
awkward notes, some smooth and purposeful — others a noticeable mistake. he grimaced at those mistakes, you had to laugh.
"hey..." you hummed in realization as he played. his eyes flicked up at you from the piano. "that sounds familiar." you said, "learning chopin so early? isn't that a bit advanced?"
"it is, yeah... but i wanted to learn it for y- because i like him. he's great right?"
"mhm..." you smiled at suguru. "i wouldn't have expected you to like him. actually, it's really surprising you're learning piano at all — why did you decide to?"
suguru froze up for a moment.
"i don't know. i just wanted to." he shrugged, lying very smoothly with that voice of flowing rivers.
"it's just that... you've always talked about how bass and guitar are your beloveds, and you'd never touch anything else. so that's why i'm curious."
he froze up again. you were catching onto him, so he just admitted it as nonchalantly as possible.
"i wanted to learn it because you like it."
that made your heart thump a bit more wildly than it already was from being in his presence. something about suguru is that he's capable of making hearts race just with his voice alone.
"really?" you felt the crown of your cheeks warm up, a heat spreading down to your jawline. his face was going completely red.
"yeah?" he swallowed, almost choking, looking away. his pretty hands lightly rested on the keys. you wondered for a second about how it would feel to have them cupping your cheeks.
"that's really sweet of you... thank you." you said sincerely.
maybe it was the effect of your gaze, or your sincerity, or both, but he felt like it was hard to breathe.
"damn, the tension!" satoru's voice boomed, abruptly breaking the quiet between you and suguru. "i could cut it with a knife. you two should just kiss already — i bought popcorn, let me watch." he lifted a convenience store bag.
"satoru, how long have you been standing there!" you laughed nervously.
"a while. you guys would definitely be the first to die in a horror movie." he said, the liveliness of his voice such a jarring contrast for your ears.
suguru's face was still red. your fists were curled up and laid on the edge of the piano.
"okay, just blurt it out already you two! so frustrating! this isn't a damn slow burn romance novel, just get together already."
"shut up," you laughed embarrassedly, "damn third wheel."
"i am not the third wheel — y/n, if you date suguru you're also dating me i hope y'know that. that's just how it works."
suguru let out an incredulous laugh. "oh my god, please, satoru."
"what? just being honest — don't look at me like that y/n i didn't mean i like you!" now satoru started blushing, "i'm just saying!" and then proceeded to over-explain himself while you and suguru dissolved into laughter.
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