#a series idea for him though that's completely like

[nereidprinc3ss]

strange perfections

in which spencer reid and fem!reader meet by accident at a coffee shop. and then they keep meeting there. they've really got to stop meeting like this. (no, seriously. hotch is pissed.) / do you believe me now? bonus chapter!

fluff! warnings/tags: meet cute:) some dark humor, romantically inexperienced reader, spencer reid graduated from caltech, mit, and the derek morgan school of rizz a/n: this can absolutely be read as a standalone BUT it was written as a prologue for my series do you believe me now? to explain how spencer and r met! completely optional, if you're only here for the smut no worries! reading this bonus chapter might make the next chapter better though as it contains discussions of how they met:) anyway, I LOVE YOU!! let me know if you like this silly little random thing! kisses

The café door opens again. A blustery wind raises goosebumps on your arms and makes your bones ache again. You look up at the latest intruder—a hobbling elderly man in a newsboy cap and a knit red scarf. 

Stupid scarf, you think. 

Stupid door. 

Stupid wind. 

Your mug is empty, and the table you’re sitting at is sort of sticky and rickety, and there are so many papers in front of you that you wonder why the hell you thought it’d be a good idea to print the PDF out and annotate it that way instead of just doing it on your laptop like a normal person in the 21st century. Nothing is going right today. It’s the third café you’ve tried in the past few weeks as you attempt to find some place that feels homey, lucky, but this one just feels… inconvenient. 

You look at the stack of papers and sigh. 

Stupid Lord Byron. 

Stupid cafe. 

Usually, cafés are relatively quiet and peaceful—a refuge for the overworked to bask in the luxury of quiet jazz and the smell of dark roast as they continue to overwork themselves. This particular establishment, however, today hosts a group of teenagers—presumably playing hooky—who have commandeered a big booth in the back and keep walking right past your table because apparently they couldn’t have just ordered their drinks at once and they all have to do it separately and loudly. 

One of them has an incredibly irritating, gratingly pubescent laugh, and they think everything is hilarious. This whole situation is unbearable. 

Just as you’re gearing up to go, of course the fucking door opens again. This time, it’s accompanied by a particularly strong gust. 

Strong enough that Lord Byron doesn’t stand a chance. 

Your printed copy of his works blows off the table, at first page by painstakingly annotated page and then before you can even process it, all at once. 

Yeah. This is definitely not your lucky café. 

As you curse and go to stand up, you run into one of those dumb kids. His huge ceramic mug goes flying, careening against the edge of your table and completely splattering you and all your stuff in 16 liquid ounces of scalding espresso and milk. 

It’s silent for a second, save for a few drips from the puddle on your table to the floor, before the kid is apologizing profusely and turning red as a tomato. You can’t even respond—you look down at your ruined favorite sweater, and then around at the pages of Byron littered with color-coded sticky notes, overflowing with angry and purposeful red ink that you spent so much time on, scattered all over the floor. 

Eventually the boy catches on that you’re not going to forgive him and he skitters away, back to his friends, who whisper and giggle profusely. Only a few of them get up to start gathering the fallen pages with you. Several other patrons end up helping as well, so the sheets of paper are gathered and returned into your sticky hands fairly quickly. You thank each person without looking up as they hand you their respective stack. All you want is to get out of here. 

“Here—I’m really sorry about this,” someone says—a tenor-ish male voice, distinctly sympathetic as he holds out a rather larger stack of papers than anyone else had bothered to pick up. 

“I’ll live,” you sigh, straightening up. “But thank… you.”

The man standing in front of you is the kind of man who makes you want to untuck your hair from its usual spot behind your ears, and to stand up straighter, and to try and not stare even though you want his attention. He’s gloriously beautiful in a way that repels and attracts you. He’s the type of man who wouldn’t have given you the time of day in high school and probably wouldn’t now. Instantly you feel both insecure and reduced to a former version of you who would simper and fawn over boys who wanted nothing to do with her. You feel like going to the other side of the café and sitting in the best light and staring out the window poetically and hoping he’s looking at you. 

“On the one hand, I feel bad for being the person who opened the door and let the wind in. On the other… I feel compelled to say at least they’re not covered in coffee like the rest of your table is?”

You laugh vacantly, a second too late, positively coveting the awkward smile on his angular face. Then you make eye contact, and his eyes are so the opposite of angular—they’re huge and inviting and the warmest golden-brown you’ve ever seen, and they’re looking right back at you—and you have to look down. Fuck. You hate when you do that. 

Think of something normal to say!

“Yeah, true. Now I just have to reorder 264 pages. That… that don’t have page numbers.”

You shuffle through the papers. They are hopelessly scrambled. Your heart sinks just a bit.

“Um… I might actually be able to help with that, if you want?”

You frown, glancing up. What kind of sex trafficking ploy is this?

“That’s okay. Might be easier with just one person.”

He laughs—it’s similarly awkward, similarly endearing. 

“Do you mind letting me just… try? It’ll only take a minute.”

Only take a minute? Is this beautiful man deranged? Why are the hot ones always crazy?

But, perhaps because you’re a pushover who can’t stand up to people, much less beautiful people, much less beautiful men who are paying you undue attention, you find yourself giving in. You hold the stack out. 

“Sure. Give it your best shot. I’ll be impressed if you can even figure out what page one is.”

He’s already flipping through the papers with a drawn brow, walking away with them, and barely looking over his shoulder as he mutters, “I have Byron memorized. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

You follow him, because hello, he has all your annotations. He’s definitely insane, you think, as he sits down at a table and starts rapidly sorting the sheets into separate piles. 

All you can do is stand awkwardly behind him as he stacks papers seemingly at random, barely glancing at them before deciding where they go. 

Maybe a minute, maybe a few go by, each of which have you progressively more flabbergasted, before he’s tapping the edges of a stack of paper on the table and standing, handing them to you with his lips pressed into a thin pleasant line. There’s almost a glow about him—like he couldn’t be more in his comfort zone. 

“There you go. Should be in order now.” You sport a frown bordering on a grimace as you take the stack and flip through it a bit. Sure enough, it seems that everything is in order. You keep looking between the man in front of you and the papers, incredulous as you wait for something to be in the wrong spot. 

“How did you do that?” 

His cheeks turn slightly pink. 

“I know Byron really well. I know how each passage ends and begins so I put them together like puzzle pieces.”

“How did you read that fast?”

“Uh. I’m a speed-reader?”

You scoff, taking another look through the stack. 

“I think that may be underselling it.” A thought occurs to you as you’re grazing over one of your longer annotations—full of expletives and strong opinions. “Oh, god. You didn’t… you didn’t read my notes?”

The man’s eyebrows raise as if he was waiting for you to mention that and he smiles like he doesn’t quite know how to break it to you gently. 

“Maybe a few,” he eventually decides, laughing under his breath. “I appreciated the commentary on his relationship with Augusta. It was… colorful.”

Heat rises in your cheeks as you mumble. 

“Yeah, I had a hard time appreciating the romantic poems. They’re less cute when there’s like a fifty percent chance he’s writing about his sister.”

“Half sister,” he corrects. You give him a look. 

“Does that make it better?”

“… no,” he realizes. “Not even a little bit.”

You laugh, relieved that his face looks as warm as yours feels. 

“Well… thank you, for the help,” you say after a silent second. 

“Of course. Sorry, again. I, um—I hope your day gets better?”

“Yeah, well. I feel like statistically it has to, right? It’s kind of a low bar.”

He smiles, a perfect, perfect smile, and gives you a little wave as he leaves. Without coffee. Checking the clock on the wall, you realize it’s approaching one in the afternoon. If he’d been here on his lunch break, he sacrificed it to organize your stupid Byron texts. You smile to yourself. 

He was totally in love with me. 

And he can’t prove me wrong because I’ll probably never see him again. 

All things considered—this coffee shop does seem pretty lucky. Maybe you’ll stick with it for a while. 

The next time you see the mysterious sexy speed reader is four days later—though you’ve been here every day since. He catches your eye right as he walks in, and his brows jump in pleasant recognition. You smile. He smiles back, before going up to the counter and ordering a coffee with a ludicrous amount of sugar in it. 

I should take note for when I make him his coffee in the mornings, you think to yourself, and then you snort at your own delusions, shaking your head at your book. Obviously you’re not that divorced from reality, but you’ll entertain the fantasy forever until one of you stops showing up to this café. 

What you’re absolutely not expecting is for him to walk up to your table with his to-go cup. 

“Hi,” he says. 

“Hi!”

Jesus. Tone it down, girl scout. 

He gestures to your stack of papers: now secured in a three ring binder. The cup says Spencer. 

Spencer. Spencer. 

It feels important. 

“I see you’ve upgraded.”

“Yes! Yes, I did,” you laugh self-consciously, still struggling to meet his eyes. “Thank you for the help the other day. I would still be sorting through all of this if it weren’t for that, so… yeah. Thanks.”

“Of course! I’m glad I could be of use.”

“Spence!” Someone calls from the cafe door. You both look up to see a stunning blonde beckoning him away. 

Ah. Naturally. The girlfriend who is one trillion times prettier than you. 

Spence. 

Reality sets in. 

“Coming!” He replies, with all the eager compliance of a child, before turning back to you. “Um… well… I’ll see you?”

It’s an awkward way to say goodbye to a stranger, but you suddenly don’t care enough to dwell. Instead you nod once, less enthusiastic now that you know he has a 10 waiting for him on the sidewalk. 

“I am a creature of habit.”

Another wave as he walks away. 

The two disappear from the doorway, but the perpetual breeze seems to carry a snatched bit of conversation your way. 

“Who was that?” 

“Uh… I don’t actually know.”

Yeah. Reality definitely sets in. 

Over the next few days, you break your café streak. Life is busy. There’s not always time to artfully ponder Romantic poetry and drink a six dollar coffee while waiting around for certain people to show up. 

Okay, so… maybe it has more to do with him than you’re letting on. But you’re not going to do that thing you do again, where you become limerently obsessed with a man you don’t know and who is way out of your league just because you can’t form an actual attachment to anyone to save your life. Besides, you remind yourself; we probably wouldn’t be compatible anyway. He’s probably a huge loser. Or secretly a douche. Or chews with his mouth open. Obviously nobody that attractive can also have a good personality. 

Not to mention he has a girlfriend. That should put you off, too.

But you hadn’t been lying when you’d proclaimed to be a creature of habit—you return to the café once you feel sufficiently detached from this Spencer character. 

He’s there. Of course he’s there. Why had you been expecting for him to not be there? It’s not like he was a figment of your imagination. 

This time he’s accompanied by a different blonde woman—a bespectacled blonde with a big floral headband and a patterned dress and a red cardigan and tights and heels that look self-injurious. She’s quite eye-catching; you want to keep looking at her, but you seem to draw her attention, too. Her big eyes widen minutely and briefly you wonder if you’re supposed to know her, but certainly you’d remember meeting a person like that. She doesn’t seem easily forgettable. Both of you look to Spencer at the same time, who’s looking between you with an almost panicked expression. 

“Oh! Th—” the woman whispers, cutting herself off when she realizes how loud she’s being in the otherwise silent establishment. “Ah! Okay, right. Never mind.”

 Spencer sighs. You want to laugh, but you’re baffled by the whole thing. So you go back to reading. 

Ten minutes later, they draw your attention once more. 

“Go, go ahead! It’s more problematic for you to be late than me. I’ll be like, thirty seconds tops.”

You don’t look up as Spencer leaves the café—but are you supposed to gather that these two eccentric individuals are coworkers? And what of the first blonde woman, who you’d presumed to be his girlfriend? Where is she?

While you’re wondering all of this, the new blonde teeters her way over to your table. 

“Hi!” She says pleasantly, waving a purple-tipped hand and wearing the biggest grin. 

“Uh… hi?”

“I’m Penelope. You’ve met my friend Spencer. He just left.”

“Oh—sort of,” you smile weakly, closing your book. “Not formally. I didn’t know his name.”

That’s a lie, but maybe feigning non-chalance will make it real. 

“Well, I just wanted to come over and say I love your bag. And your jewelry and your coat. I love your whole look. I bet you’re a really cool person.”

“Um—thank you!” You perk up, smiling genuinely now. The compliment warms you—you didn’t think your look was all that interesting today. “You too. I love your outfit.”

“Great! You’re—you’re great. This is good information. Um… just out of, like, sheer curiosity, could I get your name, age, and occupation? Oh—and your zodiac sign?”

What kind of convoluted sex trafficking ploy—

“Garcia!”

Spencer is at the doorway again, looking adorably miffed. 

Adorable? Get a grip. 

“Wh—I’m just making a new friend! Is friendship illegal, now?”

“This is the kind of friend-making that gets you a restraining order,” he urges. 

You look up at Penelope Garcia, enamored by their whole dynamic. They clearly care for each other, despite the squabbling. What kind of job do they have where they talk to each other like this?

“It’s fine,” you smile, introducing yourself to her.

“That is such a good name!” She says, and you’re getting the sense she’s kind of always this enthusiastic. “So now we know each other’s names—we should probably definitely be friends, right?”

“Yeah! Um, definitely!”

“Yes? Oh my god! I love this! Okay, um—we work at Quantico, so, we’re like, 10 minutes away—but this is better than the coffee shop that’s closest to the building, so we come here all the time. Usually it’s just us and five grouchy old men, which makes this is really exciting.”

“Quantico… that’s the FBI academy, right?”

“Other stuff, too,” she nods, still smiley. 

Oh! Cool. So they’re FBI agents. 

So that’s cool. 

You’re cool with that. 

Her phone starts ringing—she locks eyes with Spencer. 

“Hotch?”

“Ooh, we are in trouble,” Penelope sing-songs, leaning down to write her number on your notebook without asking. Not that you mind, of course. She adds a little heart and a smiley face next to her name before capping your pen and toddling away. “Bye, new friend!” She calls over her shoulder, waving goodbye with just her fingers. 

“Bye,” you manage, though it’s probably too quiet. 

Spencer flattens his mouth into an approximation of a smile and waves again. 

You accidentally find yourself mirroring his goodbye, facial expression and all. Fuck. You hope he doesn’t notice. You hope he doesn’t read into it. 

Nah. Boys are dumb. 

You text Penelope later that afternoon—a simple greeting so that she can save your number—and then you forget about it. 

It’s not until five days go by without sign of any of them—the two blondes, Spencer, this mysterious and foreboding Hotch figure—that you start to seriously question your sanity. Did they drop off the face of the planet, or what?

But of course, just as you’re sitting at your usual table, Spencer walks in. Alone. 

He sees you immediately, but instead of the wave you’d come to expect, he immediately flushes, looks down at his shoes and hurries into the small lunch-rush line. 

Weird.

You corner him at the coffee bar, where he’s adding more sugar to his coffee. How are his teeth so nice if he does this to himself every single day?

“Hey,” you say, affecting casual confidence as you bus your empty mug. “… Spencer, right?”

It’s comical how you’re pretending you haven’t turned that name over and looked at it from every angle hundreds of times since the first time you heard it. 

He nods, only glancing up at you as he stirs. To your surprise, he knows your name, too. When you give him an odd look, he smiles almost apologetically, finally looking at your face for longer than half a second. 

“I heard you introducing yourself to Penelope. Sorry if that’s…”

“No, no! Is she around, today? I texted her last week, but she never responded...”

“Today is operating system update day, so I don’t even really have a way of knowing if she’s alive in her office.” It’s funny to him, but you just smile, baffled. He notices your silence and catches on, scrambling to explain himself. “She’s our tech analyst. There are 243 computers in our building and she has to update them all remotely, which requires getting every agent to agree to not touch their computer at the same time for an hour or so.”

“Oh… does the FBI not have, like… an IT guy, or something?”

He laughs again—the way his eyes crinkle when he does it makes you a little breathless. 

“You should say that to her. I think you would become her favorite person.”

It’s hard not to smile when he’s smiling because of you—however indirectly that may be. Quickly you realize you’ve both been standing in front of the coffee bar for too long. 

“Alright, well… tell her good luck, for me?”

“I would, but I’ve been kicked out for an hour while she does the updates.”

Your brow furrows and you laugh. 

“From the whole building? You just can’t keep your hands off your computer for an hour?”

“Not if I want to do my job, no. And I am kind of obsessive about my job. I’ve been the reason she had to start the whole process over again before and I’d rather not be that person again.”

You say it before you can think too hard. 

“Well, if you have an hour to kill… there’s an open seat at my table? No pressure, obviously.”

And that was the first of thousands of hours you would come to spend with Spencer Reid. 

After that, it sort of becomes a regular thing. He comes almost every day—except for occasional week or so long stretches, which you have discovered are a part of his absolutely fucking insane job—and sits with you, sometimes with Penelope, once with the other blonde, JJ, who you’ve since deduced is not his girlfriend, most often alone. Usually he can’t spare more than ten minutes, but he begins pushing it, little by little, until thirty minutes go by and you think surely his boss (the great and all-powerful Hotchner) must be beginning to notice. 

One day, during your usual lunchtime rendezvous, his phone rings. He talks right on through it, like it’s not happening.

It ceases. And then it starts again. 

Your head drops to your shoulder, something like pity or regret softening your features. He catches your eye and melts slightly, mid-sentence—like he knows you’re about to tell him to be responsible. 

“Do you think you should…”

His hands drop from where they’d been enthusiastically positioned mid-air. 

“They’ll be fine if I’m late from lunch one time. I’m usually more punctual than any of them.”

You roll your lip between your teeth—it’s not that you want to tell him to go; in fact, those delusions you’ve been harboring about your future life together are only getting worse with each inexplicable minute he entertains your company. 

But his job is important. 

“What if you have a case?”

“Then I would have gotten more calls from more people by now.”

Your head tips back as you laugh lightly at his unwavering insistence.   

“I’m flattered that you so enjoy my company that much. But I can’t with good conscience keep taking up your work hours like this.”

As the laughter fades, he just… watches you, lips slightly parted, eyes intense but not entirely present. 

“You’re probably right,” he finally breathes. “Maybe… you should start taking up my other hours, instead?”

Spencer Reid, you unexpected charmer. 

You balk.

“Like… we would hang out? At a different time of day? Not here?”

“Those are the basic premises, yes,” he chuckles, nodding affably. “I’ve never actually seen you anywhere else. For all I know you could be a ghost eternally tethered to this building.”

“Where would this hanging out take place?”

Fuck, you’re totally being weird. His brow knits. 

“I don’t know. Where else do people hang out?”

He’s not genuinely asking you, he’s gently turning you in the right direction. You charge forward blindly. 

“Restaurants.”

There’s that pretty smile of his again, the one that makes all the thoughts drain from your head like cold bathwater. Though, there’s a sort of mischievous edge to it now that you haven't seen before.

“That’s certainly an option. If I asked you to hang out with me at a restaurant... would you say yes?”

You look down. God, your face feels warm. 

“Would you be asking me out on a date? In this hypothetical scenario that we’ve constructed, I mean.”

Spencer seems to think about it for a moment, which fills you with unexpected panic. When you look back up anxiously, he has the same smile on his face, but his eyes are a little softer now. 

“I would.” 

More panic sets in—just a bit. But you don’t let what is undoubtedly a tidal wave of anxiety break through the emotional guard-dam. Keep it together. This is a good thing. This is what you wanted. 

Unfortunately, you are perhaps more transparent than you’d realized. Spencer begins to look slightly worried, leaning forward in his chair. 

“You don’t have to say yes. I know we don’t know each other very well, I just—”

“No!” You find yourself assuring him, though you curse yourself because you kind of want to know what he was going to say. “I would say yes. I’ve just, um—god,” you laugh gustily, self-consciously. “Sorry I’m being so weird. I’m out of my depth. Nobody’s asked me on a date before. I don’t really know the etiquette.”

Spencer chuckles. 

“You’re doing great. Don’t worry about it.”

Not, what?

Not, you’ve never been on a date before?

Not, that’s crazy, or that’s weird, or how have you gone your whole life without being asked out?

With the implication being, you’re odd. Different. Maybe not in a good way. 

He says none of that. 

“But I should probably actually ask you, huh?” His cheeks turn pink as his laughter is redirected inwards. 

“Sounds like a good first step.”

Spencer is still smiling as he says your name and it sounds so good from his mouth. It makes you sound so real. 

“Will you go on a date with me?”

Butterflies in your stomach doesn't begin to brush what you're experiencing—your entire abdominal cavity is like a Monarch sanctuary.

“I’d love to.”

He seems genuinely relieved as he beams, slumping back in his chair. 

“Oh, thank god. I was so nervous you’d say no. I never do that. Thank you for not saying no. Not that you couldn’t have said no—it would have been completely fine and obviously within your rights to—”

His phone rings again. Both of you are relieved that he was interrupted—but admittedly you thought his rambling was super cute. 

“I should—”

“You definitely need to go.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a still-breathless smile. “Um—what’s your number?”

You look around fruitlessly for pen and paper. 

“I don’t—”

“Just tell me. I’ll remember.”

He’s so weird. 

A breeze hits your skin as he opens the door. You’re already writing your wedding vows in the back of your mind as you watch him go. 

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic

[insufferableprotagonistpoll]

Propaganda why Aang is insufferable:

He has some very bad ideas that the narrative never explores and gets rewarded by the narrative for bad behavior.

Mostly just the way he deals with his crush on Katara and kind of forces it on her. It’s honestly really shitty because she never truly reciprocated his feelings and had plenty of moments where she shows she’s just trying not to hurt his feelings with a straight up rejection, but ends up with him in the end just because that’s what he wanted.

Like we know what it looks like when Katara actually has a crush on someone, she wouldn’t let the situation like the war affect how she feels about demonstrating those feelings when she’s so in touch with them. Like how she was with Jet and Haru. I just wish the writing team did a better job of showing Katara developing feelings for Aang way better than they did lol.

Made a series that was otherwise reasonably tolerable impossible to watch. I hate that all the jokes written for his character target 8-year-olds exclusively. Also his little TV show keeps appearing on my dash no matter how many words I block and I hate it

Propaganda why Gregory is insufferable:

This boy is so poorly written, it hurts. In the gameplay, he just acts annoyed and pissed off the whole time. Then, in the endings, he becomes a whole other character who acts scared and sad, which does not match the previous hours of gameplay AT ALL

But that just annoyed me

What really made me hate him was the GGY and Robot Gregory stuff, because OH NO, Gregory could not just be a normal kid who got into this situation by chance, he has to be a robotic recreation of the Crying Child, despite not acting one bit like CC, or, according to the GGY story in the books, he's responsible for multiple murders and is Afton's/the Mimic's apprentice.

Just let this kid be fucking normal!

(Also, unlike a lot of people, I really enjoy what the Ruin DLC did to his character. And don't try to say that's still the mimic, the mimic recycles dialog from the main game. This Gregory uses completely unique dialog, and unless the mimic was able to form new words in his voice all of a sudden, that's still him. He had to make a tough decision, one life or over hundreds and I can respect that)

Suffers from being made into another one of Matpat's ""is actually a robot theory"". It is annoying as hell, especially if its canon. We do not need robot children theories in a game about possession, child murder and serial killers. Especially not dumb theories about him being a 'recreation' of someone with a completely different personality. It has completely ruined any enjoyment I had in that character because we're just going back to the Afton family again

Someone made a good point about how his personality seems to be reminiscent of a certain trend where a video game protagonist has to be snarky even though it would’ve worked better for the horror atmosphere if he was more scared because it would’ve made the player feel his fear. I recall people being surprised about his personality and expecting him to be more scared, and I assume the developers were just afraid of ppl calling Gregory “whiny”, but it still feels like a missed opportunity

#aang #avatar the last airbender #atla #fnaf gregory #fnaf security breach #five nights at freddy's #insufferable protagonist poll #insufferable protagonist tournament #tournament poll

[foreverisntenough]

- YOU’RE MINE -

Summary: While you daydreamed about his face an ocean apart, he had no idea what yours was about to do to him. With a twist of fate and the heat of summer, a new relationship would completely ransack his heart - Everyday heavy with the thought of one another, neither of you were going to let the unexpected love of your life go. You were going to be his, you were his, and you were going to stay his.

Warnings: This series contains fluff, suggestion, smut (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, love bombing, occasionally sad, kind of angsty, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: I hope you like it! THE FINAL CHAPTER 🥺 Keep your eyes peeled for ‘Ours,’ the sequel of this fic! It will chronical what happens in Trent and Y/N’s lives after this part!

INDEX

Chapter 30 - ‘You’re Mine’

The sun bathed your room in morning light. You yawned and opened your eyes slowly pulling Trent’s pillow over for you to hug. It was early but you had a plan to run to the shops before he got home. You felt absolutely exhausted yet again despite copious amounts of sleep so you hopped in the shower to help yourself wake up. Even just picking up products made your arms ache. Your limbs barely moved so you ended the shower with 30 seconds of cold water. Jesus, did that wake you up. You stared at yourself naked in the mirror before wrapping yourself in a towel. As you looked at your slender frame you couldn’t help but wonder what was going to change. How much would change? You tucked the towel moving on from your introspective questions and washed your face. You started your skincare moving slow through serums and onto a moisturizer, product after product. It felt good to take a moment to take care of yourself. You felt like you had to look good today so this was a good start. Trent probably preferred you with no makeup but makeup made you feel more confident so you did some, applying blush, mascara, all the things that made you feel just the best version of yourself. You moisturized your whole body before spraying a Le Labo perfume you had been loving recently and made your way to the walk in wardrobe. You didn’t know what to wear though so you made a mess pulling everything out, trying to figure it out. You combed through piles of clothes and rack more it felt endless but you were getting tired again. You landed on a light pink sweat set. It wasn’t exactly groundbreaking but it was cute.You didn’t want to be in real clothes and you didn’t really want to be anything close to sexy so this worked. You meticulously cleaned your closet back up, putting each item exactly where it belonged. You grabbed a pair of Louis Vuitton sneakers to throw on before you left the house but needed to pick up the bedroom a little before you headed downstairs. Once you did you slipped on your sneakers and grabbed your car keys to exit out through the garage. You jumped into one of the big blacked out cars in there and made your way into town. To get started on your long list of errands to do to prepare for Trent’s arrival you began at a stationary store then off to the bakery, and into a few more shops. The more things you pulled together the more excited you got. For the first time since you found out you actually were excited to tell him. Although, you wanted to keep the way you told him simple. That was your vibe, calm, easy, so you grabbed a little something you were planning to place the pregnancy test in and some cardstock for a note. You went and got food to eat in hopes for after he took the news well and you snuck off to some more luxury stores for something fun you’d give him a little later but that would be a surprise all depending on what his response was. It felt like your car was full by the time you were heading back home. Trent let you know he was coming home around noon so around 11:30 your anxiety really began to hit. You felt like you were shaking as you held a pen over the nice piece of cardstock you got. You wrote a simple note and left it on the kitchen island for him to find when he came in.

‘Come upstairs, daddy xx’

It was humorous and ultimately would be cute once he found out why you said that. In retrospect, the word was really what kickstarted the whole conversation about the possibility of a baby. It was around 12:15 when you finally heard the front door open. You heard his bags drop by the front door the way that drove you crazy but you pushed it aside for the moment unable to focus on anything but listening to his footsteps deducing where he was in the house. Your heart began to race, your mind shifting into overdrive.

“Babyyy?!” Trent called out loud from downstairs but you didn’t respond. You let him find his way. He eventually went to the kitchen and saw the note. He knew you were home, your car was there, you said you would be so he picked up the card you had left and smirked. In Trent’s mind this was a cheeky welcome home. He read the card as an invitation to go upstairs to have some incredible sex after he had been gone. A sort of congratulations he scored a great goal. It wouldn’t have been the first time you’d done something like this but boy was he wrong. He didn’t even click that the word ‘daddy’ wasn’t even remotely there sexually. He jogged up the stairs eagerly chuckling to himself excited for what was going to happen. His mind was jumping around trying to imagine what you’d be wearing, what he’d ideally want you to be wearing. He felt greedy like a little kid in a candy store imagining all the different bits of lingerie you’d worn over the years. He pulled himself together a little bit trying to act cool and suave before he opened the door. God, he hoped it was that pink one but his hunger was dulled. Everything slowed as he looked into your bedroom. The room was warmly lit, all the lights on, it was clean and organized, cream and white colors that made the space comfy and homey, the bed was made perfectly and to further his confusion there he saw you sat crossed legged on the boucle bench at the end of your bed. You had stayed in your light pink sweats and the soft light almost managed to illuminate you. You picked your head up and thought your heart could fall out of your chest. You gave him a soft but very nervous smile. You couldn’t shake your anxiety but there was a part of you that also couldn’t help but feel a little excited seeing him. Just him being back home was enough to make you giddy but this was a new emotion you didn’t know and it was overwhelming you. You stared up at him trying to fight back tears you could feel building. You almost forgot how beautiful he was, you could only dream your baby looked just like him. That face started to make you nervous about what it would fall to because you were about to change his life. Contrary to what he thought, Trent wasn’t even disappointed you weren’t in some lingerie on the bed to be honest. You looked absolutely ethereal sitting there. His angel. Your one hand hiding a little white box behind your back, the other anxiously pulling at the bottom of some strands of hair. “What’s going on…” he hesitantly asked, stepping into the room. You gestured your head to the side signaling for him to come over to you and so he did. Albeit, incredibly slowly. He stood in front of you looking down. You remained quiet. You thought if you spoke you’d start crying immediately so in an effort to not do that you pulled the box from behind you and handed it up to him. He took it and inspected the blankness of it and then looked back at you inquisitively with a smile. He held the sturdy but small white box wrapped with a white ribbon having no idea what was inside of it.

“Go on…” you managed to quiver out in a whisper. At that moment, you were pretty sure the world stopped turning. He pulled the ribbon untying the bow, holding onto it while he lifted the lid off agonizingly unhurried. You felt your leg start to bounce with nerves awaiting his reaction. You watched his face intently for any sign of emotion. His mouth was agape a little, his eyes batted trying to make sure he was actually seeing what he thought he was. He looked into the box completely unexpressive. Inside the little white box laid a comforting bed of thin white and metallic shredded paper with the positive pregnancy test resting a top of it. In slow motion you watched the box fall from his now shaking hands onto the floor. The neat and carefully filled box now scattered on your carpet.

“Are you serious?” He said sternly with no emotion on his face. You thought you might pass out starting to think he didn’t want this anymore now that it was real but you nodded anyway telling him that this was in fact happening. This was very real.

“There are two more positive ones in there.” You pointed to the bathroom sheepishly. Trent dropped to the floor falling into a crouching position. He squatted leaning back on his heels. With his head in his hands you could hear him start to sniffle and his breath start to deepen. “T… I.. I’m” you tried to talk but honestly you were petrified and had no clue what to say. Should you apologize? But before you could come up with something he picked his head up to look at you. His eyes all wet, he gave you the sappiest closed mouth smile that almost had the look of a pout to it.

“Oh my fucking god, Y/N… Y/N” He whined with the deepest set puppy dog eyes that broke your heart. You could see tears roll down his face, he got on his knees and crawled over to you wrapping his arms around your waist dropping his head into your lap. “Sorry, Jesus” he laughed a little, shaking his head, nuzzling into you. “I just didn’t… oh my god, baby… is this for real?” He whimpered out kissing your covered stomach. You were taking his physical actions as a positive but had to know for sure, his words weren’t exactly concretely assured.

“You wanted this right? Like me pregnant? Like we are having a baby” You cooed, giggling a little. It was the first time you had said that. ‘We are having a baby.’ You felt a few tears roll down your own cheeks as you stroked your hand over his hair comforting him as he clung to you.

“You have no idea baby.” He muffled into your sweatshirt top before raising it some. He beamed looking at you. He kissed the warm bare skin of your stomach. “Holy shit, I’ve never been so happy in my entire life.” He continued kissing you. “This is fucking insane.”

“Yeah?” You kept giggling. He pulled off your stomach and looked into your eyes. He held your hands and squeezed them tightly .

“C’mere” he whispered. You watched his perfect lips you were praying your baby inherited from him move closer to you. His lips pressed into yours. They were warm and soft. Warmth blossomed in your chest. Your lips brushed over one anothers. The smell of him, the smell of home was dizzying. You leaned further into the kiss as his lips felt somehow even impossibly softer than before against your own. You both started laughing in delirium though having to pull away. You let go of his hands and cupped his cheeks holding his face some distance from yours to really look at him. His big brown eyes had fallen into deep pools. You wiped your thumbs underneath them, wiping away the tears that had fallen. He looked at you like no one else in the world existed. Trent stared into your eyes and felt that no one else existed in the world, in fact you were his entire world and he was most definitely yours.

“Gonna take care of you forever. This is unreal. We’re having a baby. Jesus, You're perfect, beautiful.” Trent just kept yapping away stunned and so you let him ramble on and on as his hands caressed all over your body. He picked you up and sat you up on the edge of the bed before he came and crawled over you. You laid back with a big childish smile. He looked down at your face and exposed stomach and his heart faltered. His hands pressed into the mattress next to you letting his arms prop him up over you. He dropped his head to come in for another kiss. And another kiss. His lips feeling absolutely addicting. You started to makeout and his body pressed down onto yours. He didn’t know when he got so hard but you weren’t going to call him out. Things started to heat up but he got nervous. “Can I do this?” He said pulling away from you a little sliding his hands under your sweatshirt over your stomach and up towards your boobs. You nodded with a little giggle. “I promise I’ll be so gentle with you, baby.” He whispered. You could only laugh.

“T... it’s okay, we can.” You looked at him ferociously innocently. He never felt more in love with you. He almost felt lightheaded. He was so happy with the news and then now the fact that you were carrying his child, god, he was so turned on.

“Okay… still gonna be gentle with you though. Precious cargo, no?” You both giggled before you pulled him down to you. The space between you vanished. He pressed his lips to yours. His one hand cupped your cheek, gently as promised. He moved you up the bed and sat back taking his shirt off. Your eyes gazed over every inch of him. He was heavenly looking. His body was just drool worthy but you snapped out of your lust when you caught the soft smile on his face looking down at you.

“Help, baby.” You cooed cutely pulling at your top. You sat up some and he helped you take the sweatshirt and your shirt with it off over your head. You laid back and lifted your hips up some for him to then pull your joggers off. He left you in your bra and panties, which okay, this morning you made a conscious effort to pick a particular good set that you knew he liked. Trent couldn’t help his eyes from racking over you greedily. He couldn’t even count the amount of times he had seen your naked body. It was infinite but this felt like the very first time. It was nothing like the time years ago in New York though, this was different, this was love in its very purest form. He absolutely worshiped your body. It did so much for him before, his brain was confused how you possibly were able to do more I.e. carry his child now but also how it was physically possible for him to be any more attracted to you, and yet here he was. His pupils dilated looking down at you. He pulled his sweats off leaving you with the perfect view of his hardened cock’s bulge in his boxers. Both of your heart rates speeding up. He got on top of you again as you began to kiss more and more, hotter and heavier. He dragged his fingers over your body while he moved away from your kiss to come whisper in your ear. His hands gently slipped into your panties and in no time he was slowly pumping his fingers in and out of you purposely rubbing his palm against your clit rhythmically.

“Oh god T… Trent fuck, baby. T…” You moaned trying to push yourself up into him for more friction, for him to go deeper.

“Keep saying my name, baby. Such a good girl f’me, gonna make you feel so good like you deserve.” His warm breath hit your ear sending a shiver down your spine. And, boy, was he determined to make you feel good. He kissed down from your ear all the way down to your core. He pulled your soaked panties off as he continued with his fingers. His name still falling from your mouth. He worked quickly and buried his face into your wet pussy. His tongue toyed with your clit as his fingers diligently worked in and out of you. You were a mess. You couldn’t think straight but it was all so smooth, so caring, so soft, so intentional. It definitely was intentional, he knew exactly what he was doing when you felt the tight knot in your stomach snap pulsating around his fingers. “Did so good.” He muttered into your pussy. The vibration causing you to flinch at the overstimulation. He pulled his face covered in your slick away kissing the inside of your thighs letting you come down for a moment. It wasn’t long before he was fucking into you nice and slow. He filled you up and you felt every single inch of him sliding in and out of you.

“Baby… I’m so full. Oh my god. I love your cock so much.” You moaned beautifully and he smirked. Your words were starting to almost slur from the amount of pleasure you were in as his hand reached down to rub small circles on your already sensitive clit. Your pussy dripping onto the sheets below you as he continued to carefully roll his hips up into you. Trent affectionately yapped away, continuing to spill out how much he loved you, how good you were doing, how beautiful you were all falling from his lips nonstop as he enjoyed the feeling of you. “I want you to fuck me like this forever.” You babled back words muffled by moans and kisses. Your hands came and gripped onto his muscular arms. Your hands pressed back into the pillows feeling fuzzy, blanking out everything but the feeling of him inside you. “I’m gonna cum, T” you cried out “I’m so close.” You felt the know in your stomach tighten again. Your breathing getting heavier. You moved your hands up to his face pulling him into a passionate kiss and then letting your manicured fingers gripping onto his hair, enough to make him whisper at the sensation.

“Cum for me, baby” he cooed between kisses as his hard cock pulsating inside of you. “I love you so much, baby. Keep fucking me. Doing so good.” Your sweet moaning of his name pushed him closer and closer to his own edge. “You sound so pretty, baby” Trent smiled down at your face. You looked up at him mouth agape, watery eyes and were taken aback by how beautiful he looked above you. God, he really was perfect. He kissed you again. The drag of his cock in and out of you made you each for anything to hold on to. Switching between the sheets, his hair, then to his muscular back. His hand found its way to your tits. he caressed it, playing with your nipple while fucking you.

“Ah T… you feel so good. Too much.” You whined feeling him pressed deeper and deeper inside of you. Slow and languid you said it but you didn't want him to stop at all. He knew that too.

“You’re doing so good. Such a good girl” he praised, starting to feel overwhelmed by the pleasure from your pussy. He was close now. To be fair, he had been close to cumming since he ate you out. Watching you orgasm with his tongue on your clit was just the perfect sight. “Cum with me, baby, yeah?” His movements were getting sloppy compared to the perfect pace he had kept at as his abs tensed. His lips parted in deep breaths as his eyes rolled back.White hot pleasure flashed behind your eyes and Trent’s lips pushed against yours as he fucked you through your high. His hips finally stuttered and he paused letting him cum fill you, making sure every drop of him was inside of you, where it belonged. He quickly resumed pushing his hips into you though with a groan of your name. His cock twitched inside you, spent. It was intoxicating, everything was, the way your arms were wrapped tight around his shoulders. Pulling him close, running soothingly along his skin as he collapsed onto you with a final, fucked-out thrust. He traced his fingers lazily along your side, neither of you having enough strength to bother moving. All is quiet in your little haven, and you could almost fall asleep. You laid stuck to each other's bodies for ages. Trent’s hands continuing to slowly caress your body as you cuddled up to him. Your head rested onto his shoulder. He looked down at you and smiled.

“How did you get so perfect, hmm?” He cooed with his hand coming to rest over your stomach. You giggled and looked back at him. His smile made your heart beat a little faster than it already was. “Just so pretty all the time, it’s insane.” He kept talking while he squeezed your waist. “Going to be the most beautiful mummy.”

“Stop…T” You feigned embarrassment. “Well, you can say goodbye to all this now I guess though.” You drudged out waving your hand over your naked body pressed into his. It kind of stung thinking about how much your body was about to change. You had a lot of issues with your image from the jump so to imagine things changing and potentially getting worse than they were now freaked you out.

“Baby, baby, baby… don’t do that. This is so fucking amazing. You’re going to be beautiful before, during, and after, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He cooed again, dropping his hand sliding down to palm your ass. “Trust me, if anything you’re only about to get even sexier.” He squeezed your ass cheek saying that.

“Yeah, yeah you say that now.” You groaned. “You’re just excited for when my tits inevitably get bigger.”

“I’m not just saying it! I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little excited for that, you're right….But baby, it’s not about all that. It’s the fact that you’re beautiful for carrying our child, you know how insane that is?” You nuzzled your face into his body hiding feeling a little shy. You laid there while he ranted on and on about how beautiful you were and you listened patiently until he asked you a question. “So what do we do now?” He started to chuckle anxiously thinking about what was next.

“I don’t know, I’ve never been pregnant before.” You joked equally as nervous.

“Same.” He cooed with a straight face. You couldn’t not laugh looking at him. He always managed to be unintentionally funny and simultaneously very cute in serious moments.

“Okay, well seeing that neither of us have been.” You kept giggling and poked at him. “I made an appointment for tomorrow but if you can’t make it, I…” Trent cut you off before you could finish your sentence.

“I can. Baby, I am here for this whole thing. I will be there. I will never not be there. This is the most important thing to me, you are the most important thing to me… this baby is the most important thing to me.” His face kind of dropped saying his last sentence. It was all becoming very real.

“Oh my god like this is mad…” you looked up at him with a scared expression on your face..

“I’m here for you. You’re mine, right baby? Gonna take such good care of you both.” He cooed and your heart shattered at how sweet he was. It was unbelievable you were about to start a family.

“Yeah.. I know” you sheepishly retorted. He held up his pinky towards you and your heart skipped a beat. He was so fucking cute. “Oh so you really mean it, huh?” You teased him.

“Absolutely. You’re mine forever.” You locked your finger around his and he used the moment to pull your arm and subsequently your body to fall into his into a sweet kiss.

“Do anything for you, beautiful.” You pursed your lips and hummed thinking of all the things he already did for you. What more could you possibly want

“Can you hold me closer, T.” You cooed, batting your eyes at him.

“Yeah, he laughed. “I got you.”

The next day you woke up to a large Trent cuddled up so closely on top of you, you could barely breathe and you liked it this way. You had an inkling this was the way this would go. He was going to be so attached to you the second he found out you were pregnant. You slid up to sit against the headboard. He hummed as you moved, clinging to your stomach tighter, pressing sleepy kisses against your bare skin.

“I can’t believe we’re going to be parents… I feel like I’m 18 most days.” You spoke into the quiet room stroking over his hair guiding your hand down to his back to scratch it gently. He purred feeling your nails. He turned his head on your stomach to look up at you. The feeling of his stubble rubbing and tickling you.

“I guess we gotta grow up.” He cooed with a smile.

“Maybe.. we’ll still be cool parents though right, T?” You giggled as your other hand came to pinch at his cheek.

“Yeah, baby. The coolest. Just adding a new baby best friend to the fam, that's all.” He cooed imagining the two of you, the dogs and the new little baby.

“That’s really cute, T.” You pouted thinking about how adorable the sentiment was. The fact that you were really going to have this baby was sinking in moment by moment. He hummed acknowledging you but returning to his task of kissing your stomach.

Your appointment at the OBGYN was later that afternoon so you and Trent got dressed and were ready to head out. He held your hand walking to your cars but looked at you confused when you let go and walked to the drivers side of yours instead of the passengers side of his.

“You can’t drive…” he looked at you and you started to genuinely laugh.

“What? Why?” Shocked, you asked muddied in a laugh. His face didn’t move. “T… I am pregnant, not like unwell.” You tried to reason with him. He just stepped towards you, slipping his hands around your waist. He tucked his head into the nape of your neck, pressing his lips to you.

“Baby… I need you to be safe, can you just come with me? I want to take care of you.” He whispered. He puckered out his bottom lip, giving you his devastating puppy dog eyes. He was committed to convincing you and it almost worked but you were not caving this time. You held your ground against their allure.

“You always take care of me. I am safe. Also, T, be realistic, we can’t be seen driving together going there right now. I want this to be our moment. Hmm?” you cooed. Your hand came to caress his cheek trying to assure him you were okay but also remind him that your pregnancy getting out to any news source or the general public getting wind would be a nightmare and would destroy any opportunity to have privacy for the next 9 months. He finally agreed and you made your way there.

“You’re only about 6 weeks along.” The nurse spoke softly, looking between you and Trent. “If you and your husband want, we can go ahead and schedule the follow up when you’re at 12 weeks. By then we should be able to find out the gender as well.”

“He’s not my husband.” You patted Trent’s thigh.Your words kind of stung him so he placed his much bigger hand over yours pinning it down. Prompting him to lean over and whisper in your ear.

“Not yet, baby.” He cheekily said and it raised goosebumps all over you. Eventually, you looked back to the nurse and so did he. You could see Trent’s brow furrow a little in your peripheral. He was trying to do the math. “Right so she’ll be 12 weeks that’s…” he paused thinking.

“3 months, baby.” You giggled teasing him squeezing your hand above his knee.

“When is it usually most safe to tell people?” Trent asked inquisitively. This was going to be like everything else, he was going to need to know absolutely everything he could. It was incredibly cute and it was incredibly Trent.

“The fetus is typically fully formed after 12 weeks, that tends to be when people feel comfortable but it is up to your personal preference, your discretion what you’d want to do.” The nurse cooed back.

“So in a month and a half, T.” You giggled again looking at his face continue to struggle.

“I’ll get there, I’m gonna like read or I don’t know, will figure it all out.” He babbled nervously. You smiled sweetly at him squeezing your hand again to reassure him just happy he was with you. He didn’t need to be nervous or do any more. He was doing great. He was amazing already. You left the offices and you clung to Trent in the car park. You swayed back and forth in his arms pressing little kisses to his lips. This was scary and new but at least you had him. You finally said your goodbyes; he went to training and you went home. He went the whole day beaming. Everyone at AXA was so confused by his outwardly cheery disposition but he couldn’t not smile anymore now that he knew he was going to have a baby with you. Later that night, Trent came home when you were in the kitchen beginning to make dinner.

“Nah, nah, nah, I was going to make dinner for you, baby.” Trent's voice almost made you jump. You turned around to see him coming down the hallway holding a big bouquet of pink flowers. You rolled your lip at him and ran over to him giving him a tight hug, abandoning the boiling pot of water on the stove. He wrapped you in his arms and kept you there, even as you cooked. When you were finally done cooking you sat with Trent on the couch eating bowls of pasta sitting unnecessarily close. Your legs draped over his lap. His one hand rubbing up your back.

“I think we should keep this relatively quiet for a little, don’t you? I want to make sure the baby is healthy and I want to share some of this time with just you until we let everyone else know.” You babled stabbing your fork mindlessly into some noodles.

“I understand, agree with you, beautiful. I just want you and the baby healthy so we’ll take it slow. Will keep you two close with me. Make sure everything is okay” He cooed, pressing a kiss to your cheek, squeezing your side. The plan to keep it quiet was great except for the fact that you had to continue on with everyday life carrying a massive secret. It was only mere days later when you had to face the task head on. You sat anxiously at an away game down in London next to Dianne and Tyler. They couldn’t possibly have known but you felt like they somehow did know. It was stressing you out the whole game. You didn’t hide much from his family so this felt wrong. As the final whistle blew you milled about and mingled until Trent was able to come out and meet you after. He beelined directly through a group of people to you, wasting no time with niceties to anyone else in the room. He grabbed you by the waist and his thumbs stroked over your stomach in a coy effort to be subtle. He smiled silently and you couldn’t control the way your heart lurched. You’d think over time his charm would lose its effect or wear down but somehow it only seemed to grow. Him being so sweet about the pregnancy was making it continue that way at a rapid pace.

“We’re so proud of you, daddy.” You cheekily whispered, pulling him into a tight hug. You draped your arms over his shoulders. Trent's heart faltered hearing your words. The word ‘daddy’ had carried way too much weight in your relationship lately. Hell, it got you to this very point but it was a little fun to throw it around now.

“This is the best secret I’ve ever had to keep.” He cooed equally as quiet into your ear. “Love you both so much.” You only giggled in return, beginning to quickly look around the room to make sure no one had heard either of you.

After the game, you all went out to dinner in London. You stood waiting at the bar for your table. Everyone ordered drinks. When the bartender came to Trent, he ordered his quick off the cuff before he turned and looked at you for what you wanted. You gave him a knowing look. He raised his eyebrows at you realizing you couldn’t drink. He leaned over the bar and he spoke quietly to the bartender. He returned and handed you a club soda with a lime. Clever, no one would know it wasn’t your usual tequila soda if they didn’t ask. You smiled cheekily and threw him a wink. You started to talk to Tyler as Trent was talking with his mum. His eyes glued to you. You unintentionally turned your back to him continuing your conversation stirring the little straw around in your soda. Trent watched you over his mum's shoulder. Dianne laughed as she tried to hold his attention. He loved how close you were with his family, how you integrated so quickly. He loved how you were with Tyler and Marcel. It was so important to him that you cared about what he cared about.

“She makes you happy, huh, Trenty?” Dianne cooed watching his gaze soften fixed on you. He shifted in his stance not responding to her. The smile on his face was telling her the answer. He moved around his mum slow squeezing her arm to not totally disregard her and started on his way over to you. You felt his hand come from behind and push your hair off your shoulder. You shuttered under his touch. The feeling of his fingers glide over your neck sending a shiver down your spine. You tilted your head to one side to try to look back at him knowing it was Trent. You watched Trent’s lips turn upwards. His eyebrows rising in smug satisfaction at the hearts that filled your eyes. You turned back with a cheeky grin into him. He pulled you to him and leaned into your ear. He started whispering all sorts of filthy things to you. You shut your eyes and licked over your lips. You pulled away looking at him. You weren’t drinking but you were certainly drunk on love, completely smitten and certain he was the man of your dreams.

"Behave yourself” you giggled, slapping at his chest praying no one could’ve overheard him. Tyler ignored you two immediately the second Trent’s hands were on you resorting to return to Dianne. You sat at dinner bashful and happy. It was such a happy couple of days. It was stressful to have to hide this secret but in general, you and Trent were so happy about the win but ultimately the baby. He was already so touchy with you to begin with but the pregnancy was bringing the affection to a new level. You let him have his way, keeping his hands on you the entire meal. You didn’t mind. You liked it. It made you feel safe. Trent was so protective of you. He kept you close to him instinctively but now, he held you closer with a watchful eye on your stomach. It made you melt and gradually over the night, really horny. When you got home personal space wasn't a thing for you anymore. You hugged his arm, squeezing his bicep, walking back into your house. You were all over Trent. Batting your eyelashes up to him, pressing your boobs against his side as you made your way to the living room.

“You’re not subtle…” he laughed as you tried to convince him to fuck you. You didn’t have to do much, in fact you really didn’t have to do anything at all.

“What do you mean, T?” You giggled feigning innocence climbing on top of him as he sat down on your living room couch. Your boobs subsequently teasingly pressed in his face.

“Alright, I’ll bite, baby.” He laughed. His hands started to caress your body and then swiftly to massage your tits. “You’re very convincing.” He teased you but you just gave him a ‘come on’ look because you knew you were. “Did you know you’re very very hot?” He cooed with a cheeky grin. You sat down on his lap and poorly attempted to reign in the horniness that was washing over you. “Like so fucking sexy.” His words didn’t help that effort. His hands kneading your tits brushing his thumbs over your hardening nipples. The more his hands were on you, the more you thought about your body, the way it was aching for him, and then suddenly, rapidly, you felt yourself tense.

“Hey… you okay?” Trent’s hands slowed in you. You felt emotion rush to your eyes. All at once, your feelings of fear about your body about to change massively came over you. One of the things Trent loved about you was your body and it was about to be gone.

“I’m just scared.” You sugarcoated your emotions for him. His hands fell from your boobs and ghosted down your sides before they settled onto your hips.

“C’mere please” he pulled at you and engulfed you in his arms. “Does it make you feel any better if I tell you I’m scared too?” He said muffled into your neck. His hands rubbed up and down your back comforting you when you least felt it. His honesty did make you feel better.

“Really?” You sheepishly asked. He laughed, pulling you off him to really look at your face. He stared into your eyes. You could feel your heart thumping in your chest.

“Baby… this is massive but you know what else?” He cooed, bringing his hand to caress your cheek. You shook your head softly giving him a ‘no.’ “We have each other in this. We’re doing it together. Hmm? You have me forever, sweet girl. I’m not going anywhere.” He spoke, brushing his thumb over your skin. Your heart warmed. He managed to settle your fears for the moment. He was so reassuring that he would never leave you. You could see it in his eyes, you could feel it under his touch. You cuddled into him. He held you close.

“I love you, T.” You gently spoke, squeezing him a little before resting your head on his chest. You stayed there for a while. The feeling of his heart beat started to lull you to sleep. You tried your hardest to keep your eyes open, to stay awake and in the moment but his loving hold making it incredibly difficult. He pressed a kiss into your hair.

"Go to sleep, baby. I’m gonna be right here forever.” He whispered and you nuzzled further into him. The feeling of being in his arms putting you ever at ease. The vibrations of his voice only pushing you closer to falling asleep. Finally your eyes falling closed. When you woke up the next day you were neatly tucked upstairs in your bed. He always took such good care of you, you never had to ask for anything. You shifted your body only to find that you were alone in the big bed. Your legs moving under the covers some before they bumped into something on the bed.

“T…?” You sleepily whispered out. Rubbing your hands over your eyes. You tried to clear your blurry vision to see where he could’ve been. To no avail, your eyes fixed on the foot of the bed seeing what you presumed to be a gift from Trent.

“Oh you’re up! Morning, pretty girl.” Trent muttered out in a hushed tone, his voice cutting into the room as he rushed over to you. He sat on the edge of the bed and handed you a cup of tea. You raised your eyebrows surprised with a tired smile. You scooted up the bed to lean against the headboard.

“Wow… good morning to you. What’s all this, baby?” You chuckled. You reached out and rubbed your hand up and down the arm he had outstretched on the bed to rest on. He shuffled on the bed though to come sit next to you. He grabbed four boxes and pulled them into his lap. He wrapped his free arm around you, smushing a kiss to your cheek. He pulled you a little closer to him before plopping the first box over on your lap. It was an ambiguously wrapped box so you gave him a curious look.

“One for you.” He cooed and you giggled.

“What’s this for?” You asked pausing before opening the gift: he shot a stern glare back at you so you continued on. You peeled off the paper and saw a familiar orange box you knew well. You opened it slow. It was a pair of Hermes Finesse diamond earrings. You bopped your head back and forth with a big cheesy smile on your face staring at them.

“So pretty, T.” Grabbing his face for a quick peck. You placed the box down onto your comforter after inspecting them for a little while. He plopped the next box in your lap. You rolled your eyes at his childish rough nature so early.

“One for the baby…” he said softly rubbing his hand over your stomach. It was a much larger box than the last. You opened it slow again to find another orange box. You smiled lifting the lid to see an adorable Hermes teddy bear. You pouted your lips at him. You felt like you were gonna cry before he plopped the next one on you, stopping your flooding emotions. “Keep moving along, baby. Have more to open.” He laughed, waving his hand to continue. “For you.”

“You know the baby seems to be getting bigger presents than me, is that how things are going to be?” You teased squeezing his arm. It was his turn to roll his eyes at you. You opened a third orange box. You unlatched a jewelry box to see three stackable rings.

“One for each person in our family now.” He looked into your eyes. You melted thinking of him picking out something so thoughtful. You slid them on and held up your hand to look at the three rings wrapped around your slender finger.

“I love them… I love you.” You collapsed your head onto his shoulder wrapping your arms around his waist.

“You like them, baby?” He spoke before pressing a kiss into your hair. You nodded as he slid the last box over to you. You peeled the paper again slowly to reveal the final orange box. “One more for them” you opened the lid taking your time and your heart slowed. You felt the room close in. You stared down at a cashmere Avalon blanket. You took it out of the box to get a closer look at the detailed lettering embroidered ‘Baby Alexander-Arnold’ That was the tipping point for you. The tears started pouring out. “Oh. C’mon shhh.” Trent pulled you into him. He squeezed you so tight.

“I love you.” You sniffled out. He hummed. You stayed like that for a while. “Wait, wait, actually I got you something too! I didn’t know when to give them to you but now seems good.” You scrambled out of bed messily. Trent laughed at your sleepy body moving without the grace you usually carried.

“Baby, didn’t have to get me anything.” He said as you ran into the wardrobe hearing his voice fade getting further from him. You came out with three bags giddily and jumped on the bed playfully. You took his hands in yours after placing the bags in between you. He gave you a disapproving look for buying him anything.

“Just open it! Please!” You begged childishly pulling on his arm. You shoved one bag over closer to him. He reluctantly grabbed one bag. “Hold on! This one first!” You swapped the bags and he shook his head. He ruffled through the bag and pulled out a baby Liverpool kit.

“Nah… honestly.” He held up the top and turned it around to see ‘daddy’ written across the back with a 66. He looked at you with a sappy smile. Trent felt like this was the first time he really felt like a dad, like this was not only just a baby but his kid. You pecked his lips unannounced. You couldn’t look at the tiny jersey the put getting excited. The idea of bringing your baby to their daddy play was a dream and you knew Trent felt the same. You pushed the next bag at him. He fumbled through the bag again and pulled out a pretty chic, in your opinion, black Prada baby bag. “It’s actually really good.” He laughed unexpectedly, pretty impressed with it. You felt a little relieved he wasn't freaked out by the baby-centric gifts. You picked up the final bag and placed it in his lap. He pulled out a matte all black Prada football. His eyes widened and a big grin pulled across his face.

“Cool dad, no?” You giggled as he threw the designer football up and down. You stopped him when you pulled his face to yours with his cheeks in your hands. His laugh breaking out mid kiss halting it.

“Massively. Thank you, baby.” He cooed muddied in giggles, pressing a kiss to your lips. You hummed. You sat in your bed surrounded by spontaneous baby gifts. You stroked your hand over his high cheekbones. There was nowhere else you should’ve been. This is where you belonged; with your Trent; and that’s just what he was… yours. Trent’s words cut off your moment of reverie. “Not just for these. Thank you for giving me our child.” He spoke softly, rubbing his hands up your sides.

“Ours” you whispered sealed with a kiss.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you thought of the chapter / series … 🤍 This was so fun to write and I really hope you enjoyed it.

I mentioned in the note that there will be a sequel series ‘Ours’ coming soon! xx

#trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold imagines #you’re mine fic #taa x reader #taa66

[chirpsythismorning]

The Vanishing of BLANK Wheeler

I wanted to make a list, from least likely to most likely, for which Wheeler I think is going to go missing.

But I also wanted to give a little disclaimer first, that even if these titles are real, they could still be fake, or could even possibly change given how much time we still have until s5 actually premieres.

For s2-3, the Duffers literally released official promo videos announcing episode titles for their upcoming season, with some of them changing when the season finally premiered.

Like in the case of s3 for example, they dropped a s3 episode promo video only a day after they completed filming. Meaning them titling 3x06 The Birthday, made absolutely no sense. They knew they didn't film anything birthday related for that episode. So they intentionally gave that one a fake name.

In the case of s4, that was the first time they promoted an upcoming season without giving fake titles, with the s4 promo announcing them following through with what we ended up with when s4 finally dropped.

I guess I sort of assumed s5 would follow in s4's footsteps, but from a leak standpoint, it might be smart to remember that fake titles are still a possiblity regardless. Especially in this case, where it's getting to the point in production where leaks are unavoidable. And so that might even explain why they play with this idea of fake episodes, which is because they can rest easy knowing leaks will mostly consist of half fake titles they planted there.

But for the sake of this post, lets humor the title for episode 2.

For starters, it's worth noting that the person who shared this leak originally said 'BLANK wheeler'. So as far as I know, they did not give any number of letters via underscores (_) to hint at who this Wheeler could possibly be. It's when ST news accounts caught wind of the leak and started rolling out posts, replacing BLANK with 5 underscores, that led a lot of fans to assume that the Wheeler had to have 5 letters in their name, which would have obviously ruled out Ted and Mike. But since all the Wheeler's are still on the table based on the original leak, they will all be included in this list.

5. Ted Wheeler

Believe it or not, there is something that I think actually warrants considering Ted as a possiblity.

There were some posts @stranger-chichka made a while back, comparing visual parallels between Stranger Things and Chernobyl, which could be hinting at this concept of Ted being in danger.

TBH though I think Ted being in danger or ending up dead is a possiblity regardless of him actually being the missing Wheeler.

Technically speaking, quite literally no one on the show is ruled out from being in danger at this point, so that's not saying much.

And considering the show is going to need to kill off some people next season and they are insistent on not killing any of their leads, supporting characters amongst the ranks have a high risk at being taken out. The emotional connection for Ted from the audience isn't as strong as other characters, but at least him being in close relation to a few main characters is something? I mean, he's funny I guess?

Quite frankly I don't think it's likely nor do I think it would actually make sense narratively for Ted to be the one to go missing out of all of them. I think it's a lot more likely they'd just kill him off, hence the Chernobyl parallels which imply he's gonna die. And so wasting time by having him go missing, only to kill him, just doesn't track. I think they'd just get that over with without dragging it out for very long, if anything.

Can you just imagine someone on the show shouting emotionally, It's Dad (Ted). He's gone.' Like, okay... And? I have a hard time imagining the characters being in serious turmoil over this, at least not enough for it to warrant like final season stakes amongst a bunch of other crazy shit happening. At best, the characters would be indifferently guilty for getting him roped into all this.

So yeah, I really don't see it happening.

4. Nancy Wheeler

I honestly feel like Nancy is even less likely to go missing than Ted, but the un-seriousness of an episode titled The Vanishing of Ted Wheeler is so astronomical, that I really had no choice but to put him last.

The reason I think Nancy is just very unlikely to go missing is because they technically already had her go missing as a cliffhanger between Vol 1 and 2 last season. It would just fall flat if they repeated something along those lines, with that same character, 3 episodes later. Vecna could have killed her and yet he didn't. His point was to send her a message, which was why he did what he did and then released her. The choice to target Nancy and taunt her about her family's safety in the first place, felt like their attempt at foreshadowing the danger that is to come for all of them, but one specifically. One of them that is not her. Which will make this moment back in s4 feel a lot more impactful upon rewatches.

So yeah, not feeling like Nancy is very likely.

3. Karen Wheeler

Karen is sort of a hard nut to crack all around. In the case that she is somehow connected to the Creels (Alice), anything is possible in terms of not only her being targeted, but again the entire family being at risk in some capacity. Without much to go off of outside of the obvious very haphazard timeline confusion, I feel like putting her somewhere in the middle. She was given a poster for s4. If she is Alice, then yeah it would make sense to target her. The stakes are also a lot stronger in comparison to Ted, because she was the parent in the family that actually came to Mike or Nancy and told them verbally that she wanted them to open up to her and is actually shown trying on several occasions. Whereas Ted is sort of just there when he's on screen. So the characters' distress would be a lot more dire and interesting to see unfold amongst everyone.

I also remember there being a leak in relation to Karen, Holly, Mike and Nancy all being at the hospital filming. And this was also like a day or so after ST dropped a video of Cara saying she was filming that day to hype up fans. So that leak did check out on the Karen front at least. Which puts her at the hospital at some point, potentially along with the rest of the Wheelers. Now that I'm thinking about it though, this could all fit with a Ted Wheeler death...

At this point, I'm sort of like indifferent to the possiblity, but it's still more likely than Ted and Nancy to me.

2. Holly Wheeler

It all goes back to s1, when Karen was visiting the Byers to console Joyce after Will went missing, when Holly sort of ventures off to Will's room, being guided by the lights, and sees the demogorgan in the wall.

I feel like people overlook this moment too, because it's kind of crazy that Holly has seen UD shit for herself. She was young enough that she could rule it out as just imagining things. And that could be partly the case even if she is skeptical.

There is something about Holly that makes her curious and sort of open to this world that most around her have no idea exists. And yet simultaneously some of the people closest to her do know about it and could easily clue her in when the time comes to do so, and because of that, I think she would probably be able to believe it all a lot faster than others.

Maybe this is a story where things need to happen and it just always ends up this way, but she has this tendency to be included in things that feel very important. Like in s4 with her playing with the lite-brite, and how that ended up being used to communicate with the others in the UD. There's this almost clairvoyance vibe about her. Her feeling the need to follow the Christmas lights to Will's room and her noticing and then fixating on the trees in s3.

Like I said, I don't know if it's something deeper, but it very well could be in the case she is connected to the Creels.

And while that is all somewhat compelling, at the same time it also feels very convoluted. Even if the Wheelers are Creels, I don't think that means the Wheelers would have powers, given that Henry got them when he was a child, meaning none of his family could have gotten them unless they too were taken in by the lab at some point, or were born with it.

Though I'm being full serious when I say the theories about Mike having time powers or maybe just manifestations from his emotions connected to the powers of others around him is one of my favorite theories of all time. I want it to happen. It would be cool. But that just opens the door to all of the Wheelers in my opinion, assuming his time powers came from being related to Henry. And if it was done that way, I feel like it would add way too much confusion to the story, where now all the Wheelers are gonna need to have powers, and then as a result would just takes away from the uniqueness that is already associated with Henry, El and potentially Will. One person potentially having powers without us knowing until the end aka Will, is enough honestly. Adding the Wheelers to the mix might be a bit much.

I'm also not totally convinced of the Wheeler's being Creels, and yet I also can't seem to want to rule it out entirely. But the prospects of Holly having powers or some sort of ability and just going through the same thing as Will when he was young and unaware of his powers, who is just now finding out the truth about his experiences... It just feels like serious whiplash honestly, when they haven't spent much of any time on Holly up to this point.

Like what are the stakes here exactly? What makes her disappearance and what that would look like compelling, on her front specifically? Because sure, I can see it being compelling watching the perspective of those around her reacting to this, what they would do to try to save her and all that, but what does that mean for her exactly? Are we going to see what she's doing? Are they going to hide it from us like they did with Will and then have to spend even more time uncovering it later on. And what does she even gain from being alone and taunted by Vecna presumably? What does the audience gain from witnessing that sort of event? There isn't a lot of story to explore there, outside of maybe making direct parallels to Will in s1? And then wouldn't that sort of take away from the importance of Will's role in it all just now being uncovered, if it all just repeats for Holly?

Which brings me to something that I see a lot of people using as strong evidence for why it has to be Holly, which is the fact that they recast her character.

What I think people are failing to consider is the fact that the twins who were cast to play Holly originally, were like 3-4 years old while filming s1. They weren't just kid actors, they were damn near baby actors. And while I know a big part of the reason why they gave Holly such few lines over the years was because the actors were aging way faster than the character they played, I think another factor could have been the fact that their acting experience is near nothing outside of Stranger Things, which is also pretty little on its own as well given that they have very few lines on the show.

It's not at all uncommon for child actors, let alone toddler actors to leave the industry once they start getting older. It could be for personal reasons, like wanting to explore other ventures, or it could be that they just don't perform as well with all the added expectations that come with acting as a character who is a kid with a lot of lines vs. a baby with 2 lines.

The girls got cast because at the time, they were able to perform as well as a 3 year old possibly could and would be expected to be in that role. But does that skill carry forth as they grew older? When now they have to deliver full sentences and carry conversations for scenes that are longer than 5 minutes? They've never really had to do that up to this point. Is it something that they feel comfortable with doing? Is their performance believable and is it something the writers feel confident about?

Honestly, I think they might have recast Holly, not because I think she is going to be targeted and focused on as this missing person they have to find, going through a near identical situation to 11 year old Will, but because they simply want her to be more apart of the story in general. And maybe because either the twins and/or the production didn't feel that they would be able to perform it in the way that they wanted it to be done.

And I mean, even if Holly isn't the one to go missing, one of the Wheelers is going to go missing based on this leak. If it was one of her parents, she would get a lot more scenes than she has in the past. If it was one of her siblings, again it would make sense for her to be more involved with the story. No matter what she is going to have a bigger role.

So no I don't think her being recast is as strong enough of proof as some might believe. If anything I think there is much stronger evidence that, like Karen, if they are related to the Creels, Holly is as fair game as any of them. The stakes could be high because she i such s a child. And her parents and Nancy and Mike worrying about her seems like something they would obviously do because she is so innocent and completely ill-equipped to endure something like that. But like I said, I just can't picture an focus like that on her, for her character, being very compelling given that Holly isn't really someone that needs like alone time with us witnessing it...

But there is one Wheeler left, and boy oh boy would he benefit from being alone.

1. Mike Wheeler

The most simple explanation for why it makes sense for it to be Mike, is that he genuinely benefits more than anyone when it comes to being alone with his thoughts, and with the audience watching. There's a lot of stuff dude has to work through in his own head, and since they haven't really let us have a moment alone with him that isn't under ten seconds since s3, an episode or two dedicated to making that a priority would make him coming back and things building up to the end, feel a lot more earned.

The audience needs to feel confident about how Mike feels about things. It can't be a guessing game for much longer when so many different factors are involved.

And while I think Mike may be the strongest possiblity in terms of the value it would add to the overall story is compelling enough to put him at number 1, the evidence supporting it happening is even stronger.

If we want to be crazy we can go back to the beginning. Plenty of fans have already speculated about how Mike is always late at the start of every season and how that might play into the beginning of season 5 again. I made a post about this recently and speculated it would happen one last time around the 15 minute mark. And maybe I was wrong... but maybe I was also right? Because if the second episode is called The Vanishing of Mike Wheeler, it's likely Mike's fate wouldn't be confirmed by the opening of 5x01, but in fact the closing scene of 5x01.

Throughout the show Mike plays a key role in leading the others, he's even referred to as 'the key' in s3 by Hopper. You know this show and their keys, they don't joke about that sort of thing. It's likely that Mike's story and what it is leading to is going to be central to how all of this ends.

Also in s3, there is one scene in particular that I think could be hinting at Mike being targeted, along with the s4 main poster with all of the characters. In the poster, we see El at the top, with Max and Mike as near equals on each side of her. Of course their roles are central and that's a fair layout on it's own arguably, but the equal-ness provided to Mike and Max feels very intentional. While she is slightly bigger than Mike in the frame, that could be a hint in regards to her being central now in s4, with Mike joining the mix alongside her in s5. Honestly, they could have made it so these two were beside other characters that also played a huge role in s4, and yet they chose those two to give a specific focus to. I think that is interesting (and probably intentional).

But if I'm being honest, there are so many moments in s4 specifically that hint at Mike being in danger, that I will not be able to include it all in detail in this post. So I'm going to link those below and then build off of some of it with some new details I've recovered that are worth re-contextualizing again with all of this in mind.

Hints regarding Mike and Will being targets of the town, but Mike specifically being focused on after the word 'missing' is said...

I'm gonna expand on this one because I think it's important to recognize the massive curtain in the background as this is all happening. And I vaguely reference this concept here as well which is worth checking out. But not is this whole concept of the curtain pretty blatant in this episode, this scene of the town all fleeing to hunt down hellfire club, is followed directly after, by this:

Notice how Mike is nearly always central in these moments? And how what follows feels eerily similar to what is about to go down at the end of s4 aka Suzie = Mike.

Now, this has already been talked about plenty so I won't go into detail, but... based on everything else happening surrounding this, this would apply to Mike in the sense that not only is he not in love with El, he's gay and in love with Will aka a boy. A BOY!

And then this mention of 'the terrible truth'. This word has been used like 3 times in the last few minutes. First intensely during Jason's speech about a terrible truth, with Ted and Karen being focused on with the Mike and Will extra in the background.

But what is even more crazy is that what follows sort of seals the deal for me that, this IS about Mike and it's foreshadowing what is about to come in s5.

5:02... 5x02!!!!

Also peep the watch and the letter from Dustin under it... I don't want to speculate but lettergate is looking extra relevant within all of this as well...

And to close off this point, lets show the shot that follows directly after this one.

Then later in the season, after Nancy is back from being taken by Vecna, here we have this long and emotional pause before she says Mike's name, last after her mom and Holly.

If they wrote and filmed this scene, knowing Mike would be the Wheeler missing early s5, it would make sense for them to list off the characters like this.

Mike peeking in the frame at this moment is not suspicious at all...

If it wasn't enough that Jason hyped up the whole town to see the Hellfire club as their enemy responsible for all of this, here we have a focus on Mike specifically being targeted by Jason.

The Duffer's statement about the show overall in the Piggyback script, and I gotta say it fits Mike a lot more than any of the other Wheelers.

Mike is a Paladin. And when they break an oath, they might spend an all-night vigil as a sign of penitence... aka everything is going to come to a head and Mike is going to be alone dealing with this shit for a bit, until he can come back ready to face it.

And I know it's controversial, but this post explains perfectly why Mike being central to this would make the show go full circle in a really compelling way.

Mike hasn't really unpacked...

Karen lookalike standing in front of the missing persons board. Could be any one of them but still, considering the costume of this extra looks closer to what Karen was wearing when she reunited and hugged Mike... I'm gonna put it more so with him.

Mike's guilt and shame regarding the past and what it has led them to could also play a big role and why him going missing would be worthwhile to explore. Part 1 / Part 2

Mike paralleling Yuri, who eventually reveals the truth (in his pocket) after stalling. If Mike parallels him all throughout the start of that moment, what does that mean for how it ends for Mike?

An antique funeral home fan behind Mike in the s4 character promo photos in the Creel attic, how Mike is seen sitting before Will sits beside him shortly after and it involving upside down imagery, Mike's first line in the show being used to later foreshadow his fate in early s5, and also bringing it back to Suzie's house which I already went into but it might be helpful to look at it again from this lens.

The Duffers would not pass up on the opportunity to parallel Mike with Finn's other character Richie in IT, which is literally based on a book that heavily inspired ST in the first place. And how all of that plays into the queer-coding for Mike going all the way back to s1.

The Duffers revealed after posting the funko-pop shotplanning pictures (2) that they were finished with planning for 5x01-5x02.... meaning this shot of Mike all by himself, is going to occur in one of those episodes...

We could still hypothesize Holly is the one to be taken, given that she doesn't have a funko and so they couldn't include her here regardless. But the fact that Nancy is with the other seems to imply to me that they are all likely working together to get Mike back, who is alone.

This one is a little more hard to pinpoint for sure, but it comes from a BTS Ross posted recently.

We are clearly in the Wheeler's house here. And if you zoom in, it looks like someone is standing (hiding?) behind a doorway/curtain. And the only person that seems to fit it imo is Mike... But why would he be hiding in his own house...?

It just makes me think about what is going on with Mike in early s5. What would be occurring that has him in this sort of situation? And it makes me wonder if him going missing has solely to do with him being taken and gone in one single moment, or if it could involve him avoiding his family and others potentially, with him being taken after that.

Lastly, I'm going to go into more choppy territory, stuff I know only a couple of people will actually consider. But it is pretty fucking fitting of what is about to go down so I can't not mention it.

In the Puzzle Tales' most recent Hellfire Campaign, this is the title...

Like the whole chapter is just a big joke on Mike about him being scared to be alone, which is painfully ironic if this is the direction the show is about to go for the next 2 upcoming episodes.

And then we have a song WSQK posted on Twitter back in January. I know people don't believe that this account is connected with anyone in the production, which is fair because I myself rarely believe leaks from anonymous accounts as it is. But I've been keeping up with it and it genuinely doesn't seem like a fan could come up with these songs.

The song I'm about to mention is the 7th song they posted, called Army Dreamers by Kate Bush. And you might fight it sounds a lot like the situation Mike might find himself in in early s5.

And though I'm sure I didn't cover everything, I feel like all the things I've mentioned and referenced from other posts are plenty to at least consider this as opposed to rejecting it all together.

At the end of the day I think there are some valid arguments for all of them to some extent. And quite frankly all of the Wheelers and most of the characters in the show will find themselves in danger in a way that is going to probably last longer than just one single moment the entire season. So even if it's just one of them, I don't think that rules out the others playing a bigger role in what is going down.

I just think narratively, there is one person that benefits from being on-screen and alone with their thoughts. And the other 4 being confronted with what that person discovers eventually will also make all of this a lot more worthwhile than any of the other options in my opinion.

#byler #stranger things #st5 theory #st5 speculation #mike wheeler #mike wheeler run #I think i'm going to just not tag a bunch like i usually do because jesus this was long and I think I got my point across #if you're still not convinced and think it's more likely to be one of the other wheelers that's fine #as long as it's not ted bc i can't take that episode title seriously i just can't #also if there are errors it’s bc I only edited this 50x instead of 100x like I usually do #I’ll come back later to check so sorry for what I imagine is a bunch of confusing parts 😭

[azucarmorena97]

Money Ties (Jungkook Love Story || Pt.8)

Pt.7 ||

Your parents have worked hard to get to the top and have made sure to teach you everything you need to know to be successful in this business: from tough but lucrative financial decisions, down to the right ball gown for any given banquet. A promising and extravagant future awaits you- that is, if you agree to one teensy detail...

Son of Mr.Jeon Sr. and heir to June Company, Jeon Jungkook is an immature playboy with nothing to offer a woman but good looks and a crap ton of money, and he stands to inherit much MUCH more, so long as you both enter into the arranged marriage contract that was drawn up before the pair of you were even born.

You're more than willing to try, but you're not sure you'll be able to stand each other long enough to inherit a single penny...

Series Warnings: There will be smut in the near future and I will label those chapters as such. As I say before most of my pieces- I do not endorse any themes, ideas, or behaviors in this series. This is all purely fiction/fantasy! Feel free to inbox me suggestions/ideas/what you'd like to see in this series and I'll see what I can do! Enjoy <3

CHAPTER WARNING: SMUT!

Recap: That thick tension that's been lingering in the air from the moment you first looked at each other- anger, curiosity, bitterness, longing- it's here in this room right now. Every logical thought your mind would normally throw at you to stop you from indulging, is completely crushed under this desire...the desire to know one another fully. Somehow, the two-foot space has closed to an inch. So close, you can feel the heat radiating off of his face and onto yours; his eyes almost completely closed. He's ready...are you?

Your heart is beating so hard, you hear it in your ears- it mixes with the sound of his breathing, and your breathing, and his heartbeat; before you can fully even decide what to do, your lips act on their own. Or rather, they act on your heart's true desire. Curse these lips... It's nothing like you imagined it would be, and yet it is- and yet, it's more. "Please, don't go..." He whispers to you with parted lips, and it causes your heart to stir. Only hours ago, you were certain you hated him- that you were only going through with this marriage as a favor to your parents, to secure your future- But who did you follow Jungkook up to this desolate room for? Who did you kiss him for? Whose is this heart that won't keep still for him? You. You. Yours. Only yours.

You don't answer him; instead, you bring your hand up to the side of his face and deepen the kiss. This isn't like you. You've never done this before. Sure, your first kiss was long ago had during a game of spin the bottle, and yes, eighth grade had its fair share of games of 7 Minutes in Heaven where this boy or that would try to cup your then-non-existent chest- but you would always stop it before it got any further. You knew that wasn't love. You knew it was all fleeting. You knew you were promised to someone else... Promised to Jungkook.

His large hands come to rest on your waist, though only for a moment; they begin to run down to the seam of your jeans. He wants to feel every inch of you, but he's never been one to rush. You pull away momentarily to take in a breath, but he is completely uninhibited, moving from your lips and to your neck- eliciting a gentle gasp from you. You can't help the delicious sensation, nor the way your eyes roll back in response. You have to tell him before it goes any further. God, how embarrassing. "J-Jungkook," You can barely get the words out. "Mm?" He hums into your sensitive skin. For a moment, you wonder if you even should. Would it ruin the moment? "I-I have to tell you something," Your words com out sooner than your body is ready to respond, as your hair is still tangled in his hair and pressing him to yourself.

He stops before you do, pulling away gently. "What is it?" His tone is gentle, and his brown eyes look at you so softly.

"I...I uhm...I wanted to tell you that I..." You can hardly get the words out. You're suddenly so regretful of having opened your mouth at all. "Nevermind!" You say, trying to lean in again, though he pulls back further.

"What is it?" He laughs, finding your shyness to be both endearing and incredibly attractive.

You stare at him, biting your lip from nervousness before deciding to just bite the bullet. You throw your hands over your eyes and blurt out, "I'm a virgin."

Silence follows. Silence so loud that, if it wasn't because you could still feel the heat radiating off of his body, you would've thought he'd left.

After a moment, he gingerly removes your hands from your face- though you dare not open your eyes.

"Y/n," His voice is like honey. "Yeah...?" "Open your eyes, you goof."

His playful tone surprises you, and you finally do open your eyes.

He doesn't look upset at all- or annoyed.

"Thank you for telling me," This time, he brings his hand up to your face and lets it rest on your cheek, his thumb stroking ever so gently. "You're welcome..." You blush red, unable to say anything else.

"We don't have to do anything, you know. I don't want you to think I brought you up here for that. I really did just want to talk and then- and then we had this moment, you know and-" "I want to."

He's stunned by your response and it takes him a second to process, "You- you do want to?"

"Yeah...I just...wanted you to know so that we can take it a little slow..." Sheepish is the only way to explain how you feel. You're not sure if it's normal or common for a girl to openly say that she wants sex, but none of this is normal.

You and Jungkook are not normal people. And maybe that's why you trust him so...at least with this. "Okay," He smiles, leaning in and kissing your nose, "Come."

He stands and grabs your hand, pulling you lightly as he'd done leading you up here.

Though the room hasn't been 'in use' for a while, it's still very clean and well maintained. You'd have thought it sat waiting for a guest to come at any moment.

He leads you through white double doors that divided the living area from a beautiful, neat bedroom. The bed is about the same size as the one in your room, though there's also a small couch and a wardrobe. Not to mention, a giant mirror on the far side of the bedroom, opposite the window.

"Sit down, if you want," He says before disappearing into the connecting bathroom.

You sit down on the bed, admiring the small details in the room- desperately trying not to catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, as you'd thrown on jeans and a hoodie to meet Jungkook at the bar, definitely not having expected for any of this to happen.

He comes out of the bathroom holding a small speaker and setting it on the nightstand. Oh Lord, you think, what kind of cheesy sex playlist is he gonna put on?

To your surprise, a soft piano melody begins to play; one that your recognize.

"Is- is this Wait for Me?" You ask incredulously.

His eyes light up, "You know it?"

"Of course...Motopony is great."

He smiles and walks over to sit next to you on the edge of the bed- but he doesn't touch you right away. Instead, he lets himself fall backward onto the white comforter, his loose button up opening ever so slightly to expose a good amount of his chest.

He doesn't ask you to do the same, just silently stares up at the ceiling- it makes you want to do the same.

For years, you've heard people say that your first time isn't as special as the movies make it seem. They say it's something to just get done and move on from so you can start having good sex- and maybe that's true for some people, but this? You like this.

You lay down next to him, staring at the ceiling too.

"You know, I liked you from the moment I saw you." You snort, "Yeah, right." "I'm serious," He says with a smile, "As difficult as it may seem, considering your so beastly and unlikeable-" You playfully elbow him, "Shut up." "But I did."

"Oh please, you looked at me like I was a bug on the windshield." "And you are, but...I don't know. You have this way about you. You don't take shit from anyone. You say what you want and you stick to it."

"Except with my parents," You say, solemnly. "What are you on about? When I saw you renegotiate that contract with my parents- if you can even call it a renegotiation, considering you just walked in and laid down the law- I thought you were on of the bravest girls I've ever known...it must've been hard for you to have gotten it past your parents, and then..." "And then?" You ask, looking over at him. "...and then when you defended me to my parents...when you saw my dad about to tear into me and you explained how much I was gonna be sacrificing for their dream..." He turns to you, "No one ever defends me...not like that...not at all."

Your heart aches for him in that moment. Staring back at you, is not the man Jungkook, but the gentle soul within the man...

Without another word, you both lean in again. Though this time, you really are ready.

The kiss is gentle for only a second, before you're both dissolving hungrily into each other. With one swift motion, he's lifting your hoodie up and over your head, tossing it aside- exposing your thin, lacy bralette. You're suddenly aware of the slight chill in the bedroom, causing your nipples to perk up through the thin fabric. He stares in awe of the heavenly sight, his pants instantly tighter.

"Can I...?" He asks, lightly tugging on one of the straps. You nod wordlessly, smiling at his politeness.

Is he always this polite with women?

He gently brings down the strip, pulling the fabric down that once clothed your pert breast. He brings his large hand up and takes you into his mouth, licking languid circles around your nipple. "Ah," You moan, the sensation somehow everpresent even between your legs.

Amazing how the human body works, isn't it?

His teeth graze gently against the flesh, nibbling just enough while his hand plays with your other clothed nipple.

"It feels so good," You whisper, relishing in this new feeling. 7 Minutes in Heaven has nothing on this.

"Just wait," He says with a smirk, suddenly bringing his hand down to the button of your jeans. Excitedly, you stare into his eyes- waiting for the precise moment in which his fingers find- "Oh," You squeal, his fingers resting on your clit, though he doesn't move them much.

He's intent on building up your arousal.

"What's wrong, Y/n?" He asks, the smirk never leaving his face, "Feel good?" "Mhm," Is all you can manage as he begins rubbing in small circular motions, bringing his tongue back onto your nipple.

Your quiet for a little, afraid that any noise- any breath at all- will mess up this feeling.

"No, no, beautiful," He says, voice low and slow. He called you beautiful, Y/n.

"I want you to breathe through this." "O-okay," You whimper, disobeying your own judgment and following his instructions. Anything to be called beautiful by him again.

With every deep breath, you relaxed more and more- he's right- this feeling is intensifying beyond what you could imagine.

You've never known what it's like to cum. If you're being completely honest, you've tried before- on yourself, but nothing ever seemed to happen the way it did for other girls. You even wondered if it would ever be possible for you to ever reach an orgasm-

but here Jungkook is, driving you absolutely mad with just a touch. Without a moment's notice, he's plunging two finger slowly into you, measuring how absolutely tight you are. "Fuck," You can't help but swear in his ear, which seems only to egg him on.

"Tell me how it feels, beautiful." "It feels good." "No, no. Tell me more. Good isn't good enough," He picks up the pace a reasonable amount, the palm of his hand beginning to slap against your clit in the absolute best way possible.

"It's fucking wonderful- please, keep- keep going," You feel your abdominal muscles tightening, "Shit, Jungkook."

"Not yet," He says, taking his fingers out, leaving you in absolute shock at the sudden emptiness between your legs.

He swiftly gets up and walks around to the end of the bed, leaning forward and snaking his arms around your thighs to yank you closer to the edge. He quickly takes down your jeans and underwear together, easily getting them off of you and onto a heap on the ground. You'll worry about finding your various articles of clothing later.

He gets on his knees, letting you rest your legs on his shoulders, "Look at you," he says hungrily, his eyes absolutely eating your pussy up before his tongue even has a chance to taste.

You feel shy about his eyes on you, but the vulnerability also feel oddly exhilerating.

He resumes playing with your pussy for a little, getting you back up to where you were, but then he switches to his mouth- and boy, does he know how to use that mouth.

His lips suck gently on your clit, a sensation you've never felt in your life- and one you could gladly get used to.

"Oh God," You hiss, trying to breathe as he said to do but finding it oh so difficult.

"What's wrong, beautiful? Cat got your tongue?" He teases between licks.

Again, your abdominals begin to contract and you feel yourself close- close to what? You suppose you'll find out in a moment or two.

Without ceasing his mouthwork, he plunges his fingers inside of you again, getting you closer and closer until your heat is threatening to burst.

"Jungkook, I think- I think-" You can't even get the words out before you finally do burst- a reaction you never thought yourself capable of. Without any hesitation at all, Jungkook is slurping up your orgasm with thirsty desperation, a warm satisfaction radiating throughout his body at the fact that it was he who first elicited such a response from you.

You pant heavily, overwhelmed by this experience, though it's in the best way possible. Your body occasionally juts from the stimulation of his tongue on your worn clit.

With a smile on his face, he emerges from between your legs- his face transforming from depraved beast and back to a puppy dog expression, though you can still see his chin glistening.

There's something about that sweet expression that makes want to go again. To go all the way. "Come here," You say.

He climbs over you just to plop down in the empty space on your left side. You're not sure what comes over you, but you bring him closer and let the tip of your tongue glide from his chin to his lips, tasting yourself on him like a serpent tastes its very oxygen.

Now, it's you who is depraved and ready to ravage him. Virginity be damned.

You let your fingertips trail down the small portion of exposed chest to the first button on his shirt, somehow managing to blindly unbutton every single one as you kiss him deeply and passionately.

Once the final button is undone, you climb over him so that you sit straddling his waist, and now youu're the one taking a moment to admire his beautifully sculpted chest, along with the tattoos that seem to poke out from the top of his shoulder. You'd never seen them before, "Take it off," You command.

He smiles up at you, eyes wide in astonishment at your ability to take charge. He obeys, wiggling out of his shirt. When you're able to see his arms fully, you find yourself newly aroused as your let your hand touch every centimeter of his inked skin.

He brings his hands to rest on your waist, his eyes unsure of whether to fixate on your ethereal face or full breasts.

You begin to grind slowly on him, his pants still in the way of you being able to feel him- but you're okay for now. You want to build the moment too.

You want him to be as desperate for release as he had made you feel.

He helps your hips with his hands, thumbs digging gently into your flesh, the occasional sweet sting of a slap on your ass driving you wild.

You move down slightly so you can undo his pants, pulling them down a bit to expose his- rather large- bulge, covered by the thin fabric of his boxer-briefs. Suddenly, you feel a bit nervous again.

You've bit off way more than you can chew- what if it hurts? What if he's too big?

"Y/n?" His gentle voice breaks you out of your thoughts, "Are you okay? We can stop if you want?" His gentleness brings you at ease, "Can...can we take it slow again?" "Of course," he says, propping himself up and kissing you, "Take your time, beautiful."

You get off of him and slide his jeans off as he'd done for you, though you leave his underwear on. You want a moment to familiarize yourself with him...with all of him.

His erection stands tall, especially unencumbered by the thick fabric of his jeans. "You're so big," You say gently, not even trying to be sexy- just stating a fact.

"Thanks," He says sheepishly.

"Can I...?" This time, you ask for permission, tugging on his waist band.

"Go ahead," He says with a smile, leaning back with his arms resting behind his head. Intent on letting you explore, he takes slow and steady breaths.

You slowly bring down the waist band, bracing yourself- Throughout your schooling, you've seen maps and diagrams of the human body. You're aware of what a penis generally looks like- or at least, you thought you were aware- but nothing would have prepared you for the size,

Or for how it would make your mouth water.

You take it into your hand, analyzing how your grip leaves a few centimeters of space between your fingers- nice and thick.

"Mm," He groans, excited to be touched by you, the warmth of your hand giving him instant relief.

Gently, you stroke up and down, loving how the slightest touch makes him react so.

"You wanna spit on it?" He suggests, eyes fixed on your mouth. You smile, leaning in and pursing your pretty lips to let a wad of spit fall onto the tip of it. That pretty, pink tip.

You work the spit up and down his shaft, though you can hardly help yourself and, before you know it, you're taking him into your mouth.

It's all experimental at first- this is your first time touching a penis, after all, but within minutes, it becomes second nature. You're careful to avoid your teeth as you bob your head.

"Oh, fuck," He moans, his fingers softly playing with your hair- he's trying desperately not to be too rough- he wants you to explore at your own pace, but God, you're driving him absolutely insane.

"Am I doing a good job?" You ask, your eyes becoming doe-like and innocent, though of course, you already know the answer.

"Yes, Y/n. You're doing a good job, my beautiful girl," He says through gritted teeth.

You love his pet name...Oh, to be called Beautiful always.

You watch his tip gradually become wetter and wetter as he prepares himself, involuntarily, for you.

Finally, you get up and help him out of his underwear, the both of you now fully exposed to one another- uninhibited by a single article of clothing.

"I think I'm ready," You say with a shy smile.

He nods, his smile soft and warm.

You climb back on him, straddling him once more- he leans back and leaves his arms at his sides, waiting for you to tell him when to touch you.

You're nervous, heartbeat furious in your chest as you grab his dick, guiding it slowly so that is rubs against your pussy a few times- you want to make sure it's wet enough.

Finally, it's positioned so that you can lower yourself onto it. Ever so steadily, you ease onto his thick member, easy at first. You watch as h closes his eyes, his mouth falling open slightly. Though you can't fully focus on him- you're busy listening to your body's natural reactions- then a sudden sharp sting- almost like a knife stabbing through a taut cloth, and then...a sea. Truly, a sea of wetness forms within you, easing your pain so that now, the pain becomes a dull sensation.

"You're- you're so wet," He moans, trying not to lose himself in you. He's aware that any sudden move can prove too uncomfortable for you. "Does- does it feels good?" You ask, suddenly really self-conscious of your inexprience.

"Absolutely, Beautiful good...so, so good..." He can't help but begin thrusting gently up into you. He's desperate for it. Smoother than silk, your pussy has got him unraveling already. You smile, feeling now a bit braver. You begin moving up and down as well, balancing yourself on the balls of your feet. "Can- can I go a little faster?" He asks, furrowing his brows with pleasure. "Yes, Jungkook." It's as though hearing his name breathed so sensually has flipped a switch in him, and now he's grabbing ahold of your waist, thrusting deeper and deeper into you, though not so that he'll hurt you- just enough to make it interesting.

"Fuck, Y/n. You feel amazing....do you like how I feel inside you?" He asks, bringing his hand up to rest on your cheek as you continue to work on him. Your cheeks burn under his touch, "I do- you're so big," You say, locking eyes with him. "I want you to do me a favor, okay?" He says, to which you nod. "I want you to rub your clit on me while I fuck you, okay? Grind your pussy down on me, that's how it'll make it feel good." "Okay," You say, eager to please him. You get off the balls of your feet and switch so that you're on your knees, driving him deeper into you. "Fuck," You let out as you finally feel his pelvic bone against your heat. Slowly, you begin grinding forward and backward, the sensation similar to when his palm was slapping against it earlier, though this is much more intense.

"You see, baby? Isn't that better?" His tone makes you absolutely feral. You could have him talk in your ear like that all night. "It does," You rub harder, another orgasm already building up inside you, "Jungkook, I think I'm gonna cum again." "That's it, baby. Make yourself cum again," He coaches. "Okay, okay, okay," You repeat, stuck on a loop as your brain seems to short circuit- all you can think or feel is this pleasure.

With a loud moan, your pussy is pulsing against him in waves of euphoria, you throw your head back in a sudden spasm and then slow down your rhythm, though Jungkook is still going- a delightfully welcomed moment of overstimulation. You want to see what it's like when he reaches that point too.

"Beautiful, when I say, I'm gonna need you to get off okay?" He says throw short gasps. Now who's forgetting to breathe?

"Okay, Jungkook," You say, holding yourself still so he can hold onto you, pounding into you a few more times, "Now," He says, to which your respond by quickly rolling over.

You watch as his cock immediately shoots out that thick milky substance up into the air and then as it drops back down onto his stomach. His face is that of utmost joyousness and delight, "Ah," He breathes, his hand pumping his dick a few times to make sure he's milked every last drop.

He is a sight to behold as he coms down from his high; like Michelangelo's David.

"Wow..." You say simply.

"Wow," He smiles, looking over at you, reaching over to lightly pinch your cheek.

"What did you think?" He asked. "Well, I can honestly say it was the best I've ever had." "Oh shut up," He chuckles, though he brings you in closer to him. Being in his arms like this...it's one of the nicest feelings you've ever experienced. No man has ever shown you this level of affection, and knowing he's the first...it feels good. It feels right.

After a moment, he pulls away, covering his crotch sheepishly, "I'm gonna go to the bathroom really quickly."

You laugh and wave him away, taking the opportunity to stretch out on the bed. Bliss; that's the only way to describe this present feeling.

A vibration against the nightstand brings you out of your daze and when you look over, you realize it's Jungkook's phone- and then you realize it's a text... from Lisa.

𝗟𝗶𝘀𝗮: 𝗞𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗲, 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂? 𝗜 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 <𝟯

Your heart begins to pound in your chest. You look over at the bathroom door, still closed, though you've heard a flush.

Without another thought, you dart out of the bed, quickly yanking on your clothes, making sure to leave absolutely no trace of yourself behind in that room.

You finally hear the bathroom door open though when you do, the hotel room door is already clicking shut behind you.

A/N: Hope y'all enjoyed this spicy one! Took me all day to write. Clearly, it's about to get juicy.

#bts #jungkook #suga #bts imagine #jin #namjoon #jimin #bangtan sonyeondan #angst #jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic

[ageofbajabule]

Dawn of Love | Chapter 5

Josh Kiszka x Female Reader

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: Fluff, Talks of Death, Talks of Cancer/Cancer treatment, Angst, Oral Sex (M! Receiving), Fingering (F! Receiving), Car Sex, Unprotected Sex, Arguing, Crying, Talks of Doubt, Talks of Abandonment, Death, Sad!Josh (I apologize in advance), Heartbreak.

Author’s Note: We have officially entered frat boy era Josh🤩 And I’m sad to say this will be the only chapter of Frat boy/rat tail Josh :( But trust the process and the vision I have for this series. We’re halfway through it🥹

May 2016

Sophomore year of college was completed, you somehow managed to maintain your GPA. Even after finding out everything last fall. Josh was really your rock through it all, he helped push you through the year. You were absolutely terrified that you would flunk out from the assignments you had missed out on, but Josh was more than helpful to assist you in getting them done.

The guys had managed to start playing more bars, they even were starting to work on an EP with a label. They were more than thrilled as you were. Josh had assured you over the last few months that he was happy about his decision and that it wasn’t because of Jake. He wanted to do it too.

Your father’s treatments were going well, or at least better for most. Your relationship had gotten better, it was sad how the idea of death brought the two of you together. But it was better now than never. Your weeks consisted of photo clientele, and making your dad’s treatment appointments. He kept telling you that you didn’t have to go, but you insisted on being there every step of the way to fight it with him.

Josh and your dad had even gotten closer themselves, which you were thrilled about. You wanted them to have a good relationship, considering you saw a future with Josh. The two of them would go fishing together with Jake and Kelly, to help get your dad’s mind off of things for a while.

Your sister Oliva and yourself dedicated every Sunday to be a spa day for the two of you to debrief and relax after a long week. It was much needed for the two of you, your sister was going into her senior year now and preparing to send applications to college’s. Her and Sam had even been spending more time together, a little more than usual. But you and Josh had encouraged them to be with one another. Although your sister kept on telling you that it wasn’t like that… But you knew it was exactly that.

Even with all of that going on, Josh made sure after every practice the guys had or anytime they went to record at the studio that he would spend much needed time with you. He prioritized your relationship just as much as he did his and his brother’s career. You were excited for them, especially being able to hear the raw uncut work before it’s finalized.

You had gotten offered a great program to jumpstart your filming and directing career especially only going into your junior year. You had been working on extra side projects to earn this program, and finally got accepted into to hopefully graduate a year earlier.

“Sunny.” Josh called out to you.

“What’s up?” You smiled softly.

“So, the guys and I have to go to Nashville in July for some recording sessions…”

“That’s awesome.” You smiled weakly.

“I was kind of hoping you would join us. Well me at least anyways.” He scratched the back of his head. His freshly cut hair, he let go of the length and went short. With an undercut. He looked absolutely hot.

“You want me to come along?”

“I mean of course. It's going to be a week-long trip, and I figured you would like to tag along.” He smiled sitting beside you.

“I’d love to come. Will the guys be okay with it?” You worried about crashing the trip.

“Jake actually suggested you join. To make sure we didn’t drive each other insane.” He chuckled.

You laughed softly, nodding in agreement with him. “Yeah, you guys can get pretty heated.”

“I also figured you needed a break too though. From everything you’ve been going through.” He sat beside you, holding your hand.

“They say he’s getting better, but he looks worse now than he did before…” You felt tears threatening your eyes thinking about your father’s current state. “What if he doesn’t make it Josh? What am I supposed to do?”

“Sunny…” His voice softened, “Your dad is strong. I believe he’ll win this battle. He’s got a great team of doctors and an amazing support system.” He rubbed your shoulders. “If something were to happen, and I hope nothing does… You just remember him. Remember him healthy, remember the good times, remember him happy.”

Tears started to stream down your face. “I’m so scared Josh… I don’t want him to go…” You wrapped your arms around him sobbing into his chest.

“I know baby… I know.” He consoled you, rubbing your back as he hugged you tightly.

“If something were to happen, you’ll be there, right?” You sniffled looking at him.

“Of course, Y/N. You call me and I will be right there.” He cupped your cheek in his hands, kissing your lips softly.

“I love you.” He smiled resting his forehead against yours.

“I love you too.” You sighed softly as you felt yourself calm down.

After sitting there in a moment of silence you finally gathered yourself, becoming excited about joining them on their trip to Nashville.

“Sooo, do you have anything fun planned for us when we go down?” You smiled softly.

“I might have a few things up my sleeve…” He smirked softly.

“Not even a hint?” You tried your best puppy dog look.

“Nope. You’ll just have to wait and see.” He kissed your cheek.

You groaned getting up from your bed. “You’re no fun.”

“I can’t ruin any surprises!” He argued back jokingly.

July 2016

The guys and yourself flew into Nashville, the flight wasn’t that long which you were grateful for. The entire flight Sam kept talking about your sister Olivia. Which made you realize just how much the two of them liked each other. Although your sister would deny such a thing.

The guys had managed to get a nice cabin, a few miles out from the city. They felt it would be a nice change than staying in the busy city. And Josh always loves taking advantage of nature when he can. He loved being outdoors, just as much as Sammy did.

That was your first stop of the day, settling into your cabin. Josh and yourself found a room that had a nice view of the mountains, it was also the master suite. The guys made their jokes of course about the two of you which you just ignored as Josh lectured them all.

“When do you guys head to the studio?” You unpacked your bag as Josh does.

“We have to be there for 3. It's probably going to be a long night…” He gave a half smile.

“It’s only the first day. It’s okay, we have the rest of the week to do whatever you have planned.” You smiled at him softly.

“It’s just we have to try and get this EP done. Especially since they want to release our first single soon. Which we still haven’t even perfected.” He sighed softly.

“Hey, that’s why you guys have been coming down here. It will work out, don’t stress about it. I believe in you.” You cupped his face in your hands.

“It’s just. This is Jake’s dream… And I want to help him every step of the way.”

“You are helping him. I mean look at you guys… These past two years that I’ve known you. You’ve shown me how much you have helped him. You guys are literally here. Recording your first ever EP!” You kissed his lips softly.

He kissed you back softly. “Yeah… You’re right. I don’t know why I’m freaking.” He chuckled nervously.

“Well, it's not exactly an easy thing you guys are doing. You’re putting your heart and soul into this. All bands have to start out somewhere… But you guys, you have something that no other band has.” You caressed his cheek.

He smiled at you lovingly, “What would that be?”

“The love you have for one another. You guys are brothers. And there is no stronger bond than that, I mean Danny fits right in. He was the perfect puzzle piece for you all.”

“Yeah… I honestly don’t know how we would’ve made it this far.” He smiled softly. “Thank you for believing in me, believing in us Sunny.”

“Always and forever Josh.” You kissed his cheek softly.

“Are you guys almost finished unpacking? We want to head to some restaurant not too far from the studio before we’re there all night.” Sam yelled up.

“Jesus Samuel, give us 5 minutes!” Josh rolled his eyes, causing you to giggle.

“Come on, let’s finish and get out of here before they barge in here thinking we’re up to no good.”

“So what if we’re up to no good…” He smirks at you.

“Absolutely not, not right now Joshua.” You give him a stern look.

“Ouch. Joshua… Really Y/N.”

“I’m serious, let’s finish up and go.” You patted his chest continuing to finish unpacking.

The restaurant was really only two blocks away from their recording studio. Which was a nice advantage, the food was delicious and the portions were massive leaving mostly everyone with some sort of leftover.

Once arriving at the studio the guys started setting up some of their own gear while the studio had extra gear for them to use as well. You smiled softly as you watched Jake be completely mesmerized by the studio. This studio was a whole lot different than the one back in Michigan.

Josh was checking out the recording booth for himself to see what space he was working with. It wasn’t as small as the one back home. The rest of the guys got settled in and started to tune their instruments, while Danny tested the drum kit out.

You’ve heard some of their unrecorded songs, while there were many. They only were brought down to 4 choices. You absolutely loved ‘Flower Power’ although that was Jake’s song he had written for a certain someone that he wouldn’t disclose, so you never bothered him about it.

You had a feeling deep down their biggest hit would be ‘Highway Tune’. It was definitely a song that would reach a big crowd with Jake’s riff, Josh’s vocals, Danny’s drum skills and Sam’s bass skills. Honestly any song from the EP will blow people away.

“Sunny, they’re calling me into the booth.” Josh came over kissing your lips softly.

“Go kill it, rockstar.” You giggled softly, as you watched him go off into the booth. They played a backtrack from ‘Black Smoke Rising’ which the guys had been working on for Josh to sing.

You sat on the couch there, watching him sing his heart out in the booth smiling big as you were amazed by his vocal range only knowing it was going to be even better as the years went by.

After about two hours they were pretty much finished with the samples they needed from Josh for the day. While the rest of the guys recorded their samples for the rest of the night until they had to return back tomorrow.

Josh came sitting by you on the couch, wrapping an arm around your shoulder pulling you close to him. In which you snuggled into him.

“Are you feeling alright?” He spoke softly.

“A little tired, but it’s worth it.” You smiled softly.

“Me too, mama. I’m beat after today. I’m sure they are too, but luckily on Wednesday we’re going to the lake.” He kissed your cheek.

“Really?” You smiled softly.

“Mhm, just the two of us. A nice picnic with my beautiful girl.” He caressed your cheek kissing your forehead.

“God, can you two ever get a room?” Sam made a gagging noise.

“Sammy boy… You act as if you haven’t been affectionate with a lady before.” You gave him a questioning look.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His face was a little red.

“Oh but I think you do…” You giggled softly, knowing your sister and him have definitely been seeing each other more.

“Yeah, Sam… Smooching all up with Olivia…” Josh chimed in.

“Seriously guys.” He groaned walking away to finish up recording, as the two of you sat there laughing.

“I think it's cute. I’m glad they have one another.” You smiled at Josh.

“Yeah, it's kind of ironic though.” He chuckled.

“Honestly, I would've thought my sister would pick a jock over a musician. But she surprised me…” You giggle softly.

“I didn’t think you would fall for a theater kid.” Josh smiled at you.

“With my love for film… I’m glad I fell for a theater kid.”

Wednesday came quicker than expected, you guys had been in Nashville since Sunday and would be heading back home early Sunday morning. The last few days had been filled with exploring downtown Nashville while also going to the recording studio with the guys. They would have to come back down a few more times this year before they could actually wrap up the EP. As it still “needed word” as the label stated.

But today was a day off from the studio leaving you and Josh to go to the lake as planned, while the rest of the guys went kayaking.

You put on your favorite swim piece that you knew drove Josh crazy. Wearing your overalls over the top of it. You smiled to yourself as you slipped your sandals on and grabbed your bag with towels, blankets and sunscreen. While Josh had the cooler in his hand. The two of you took a short drive to where the lake was, as it wasn’t far from the cabin you were staying at.

“God it’s beautiful down here.” You sighed contently taking in the scenery

“Yeah, it is.” Josh smiles softly, looking over to you.

“I wouldn’t mind moving down here… In the future of course.” You giggled softly.

“Really?”

“I mean yeah. Winter’s aren’t as bad as Michigan. And the summer is obviously nice as well.” You started to walk toward the lake.

“Yeah, you’re not wrong.” He rubbed your back following behind you.

Once you found a spot the two of you placed the blanket down. While Josh set up the picnic he had for the two of you. You smiled sitting down on the blanket after helping him, then he sat next to you.

“Do you- god this is probably stupid…” Josh chuckled nervously.

“What is it?” You smiled pulling a water bottle out.

“Do you think we’ll get a home together one day?” He scratched the back of his neck.

You felt your cheeks flush, “Yeah… I think one day we will.”

He smiled brightly, setting up the little picnic of sandwiches, fruit and chips. As well as a bottle of wine.

“Trying to get me wine drunk in the daylight, Joshy?” You giggled softly.

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.” He raised an eyebrow laughing softly, as he pulled out solo cups to pour the wine into.

The two of you sat there talking about everything that was coming up later in the year. How the guys would have a few promotional things coming up, and. your projects you had with school coming up as well.

The weather was beautiful out, it wasn’t so hot out that it was unbearable. It was the perfect weather you could ask for. As you ate, you watched over the lake seeing the birds fly over, chirping away. You felt home, and free with Josh. The most at peace you’ve felt in a while.

After finishing up eating the two of you decided to swim in the lake, as the heat picked up a bit since you got there. But the water was perfect, the two of you swam for a while. Then decided to head back to the cabin to prepare dinner for the guys and yourselves.

Pulling up to the cabin you noticed the guys arrived not too long ago from their day out kayaking. Jake and Josh both shared a similar sun-kissed face from the long day out. Sam’s back was as red as a lobster causing you to giggle softly.

“Jeez Sammy, did you forget to reapply?”

“Daniel was supposed to remind me…” He winced in pain.

“Listen man, I was zoned out and totally blanked.” Danny tried defending himself.

Shaking your head laughing softly, you all tredge inside. “Sam there should be some Aloe in the bathroom upstairs. Danny can help you apply it, while Josh and I get dinner ready for everyone.”

Danny nods his head and runs upstairs grabbing that for Sam to help relieve the pain and reduce his skin from peeling.

Josh insisted on making pasta, with his signature sauce. In which you couldn’t argue as he was a good cook. You helped make a side of salad for everyone, while baking some garlic bread.

After finishing up making everything, you brought it to the dining table, calling everyone to eat. In which all the guys pretty much rushed in, Sam now a little more relaxed after Danny had helped apply aloe on his back. Jake couldn’t help but pile his plate with food right away.

“Thanks for letting me come along on this trip guys… I really needed it.” You smiled softly as you made your plate up.

“Of course! You’re always welcome to come and tag along.” Sam chimed in, as well as the other guys.

“Honestly Y/N, I think if you didn’t come we wouldn’t have lasted the whole week here.” Jake chuckled softly.

“Yeah, cause at least at home. Their mom is able to break up the fights.” Danny laughed softly, while the twins shook their heads.

“I’m really glad you joined us too for this… Whenever we tour the world… I want you to be there. Every step of the way.” Josh smiled rubbing his thumb over your cheek. As he plants a soft kiss to your lips. Earning groans and gagging noises from the rest.

“Oh shut up, just cause you don’t have girlfriends or your girlfriends aren’t here doesn’t mean I can’t show some PDA.” Josh argued with them.

“Alright, alright let’s just eat. Okay?” You giggled softly looking at everyone.

They all just nodded, and began to eat whatever was on the table for dinner. There were no complaints, just compliments and discussions of what was to come, and talking about childhood memories.

But, Josh truly did brighten your days, even after all the dark that has happened within the last year. And you couldn’t be more grateful to have him a part of your life, as well as the rest of the guys. They were your family, and you wouldn’t trade them for the world.

April 2017

The guys have officially released their EP this month, and you couldn’t be any more proud of them. Karen hosted a small gathering at their house with Danny’s family to join as well.

All of you were sitting in the basement, you were sitting on Josh’s lap. While your sister had been cozying up with Sam. They finally became official right around Christmas after the months of everyone piecing it together that were in fact together.

Danny and Jake strummed on their guitars as Jake has been teaching Danny more on how to play. You smiled to yourself knowing that these were your people, and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“So what’s the plan now? A tour I’d presume?” You smiled at them.

“Some shows around cities. I think they have a few festivals lined up for us, which surprised us. And then we’re releasing a double-EP later this year.” Jake smiled softly.

“That’s exciting! I’m so happy for you guys, it’s all happening.”

“Couldn’t have done it without everyone.” Jake smiled softly.

You smiled softly, eventually getting up from Josh’s lap stretching your legs out. You put your hand out for him. “Come on.” You smiled softly.

“Where are we going?” He chuckled softly.

“For a drive.” You giggled softly, pulling him with you as you left the house getting into your Jeep that you got for yourself after your car practically died on you.

“Where are we going, Sunny?” He tried to pry it out of you.

“You’ll know once we get there.” You giggled softly.

You were taking him to the abandoned cabin he had taken you too, a few years ago. It had been awhile since the two of you have sat there to relax and clear your minds. It always brought you a sense of comfort when visiting there.

Surprisingly no one has bought it yet, you figured it was destiny’s way of telling you the two of you would own it one day.

After driving for a little while, you pulled up seeing Josh smiling softly out of your peripheral vision. You parked the car, opening the trunk to the back of the Jeep to sit in with Josh.

“We haven’t been here in a while…” He chuckled softly, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“I figured we needed a well deserved trip here.” You smiled taking in the view of the acres that swallowed the cabin. It was more than likely a very beautiful home years ago, but after being vacated it wasn’t taken care of and left to rot basically.

“You just wait… One day, I’m gonna buy this.” He kissed your cheek softly.

“Not if I beat you to it.” You giggled softly.

“You’re gonna be an amazing film director.” He rubbed your shoulder. “It’s crazy that you’re going to be graduating next year already… And I’m going to be touring and producing more music…”

“I couldn’t be more proud of you, Josh.”

“I’m undeniably more proud of you, Y/N.” He kissed your lips softly.

You smiled into the kiss, placing your hand on his chest softly.

Josh cupped your face with his one hand, deepening the kiss. Causing a quiet moan to tumble from your lips. He smirked against your lips, trailing kisses down your neck softly.

A breathy moan came from you, as you slid your hand over to his crotch, feeling him harden beneath your hand. You smiled softly as you palmed him slowly, earning a groan from him as he left wet kisses.

Luckily you were practically out in the middle of nowhere, so no one would catch the two of you like this. Taking matters into your hands, you gently pulled away and began to unbutton his pants.

“Come on… Let me be nice to her.” He mumbled.

“Ah, this is about you right now.” You shushed him as you kissed his lips softly, continuing to unbutton his pants and shift them down along with his boxers springing his hard cock free.

You wrapped your hand around the base pumping him slowly as you see the tip is flushed and leaking with pre cum, taking your tongue you lick the tip gently earning a groan from him.

He pulled your hair back with his hand, making a makeshift ponytail. You smiled softly, as your mouth sinks down over him. Using your hand to pump as you try to fit all of him into your mouth, relaxing your throat to not gag.

His grip on your hair tightens as he moans and praises you. Feeling the heat grow between your legs, you keep your pace up, not breaking it to keep him where you want him. Using your other hand you massage his balls, as he bucks his hips making you gag slightly.

“Fuck, Y/N…”

You hummed along his length, making him buck his hips again. You pulled your mouth off of him, pumping him still as he took your face kissing your lips roughly as your teeth clashed together.

You began to remove your leggings, as Josh dipped his hand past your lace panties, feeling how wet you were for him.

“You’re gonna be the death of me…” He chuckled softly, kissing your neck, as he slipped two fingers into you pumping them slowly curling them as he hit your spot.

Whining quietly, you kiss his neck softly while trailing behind marks.

“There’s no one out here baby. S’just us.” He smiles softly, as he continues to work his fingers. You let your moans slip more frequently as you were nearing your end.

“Josh, I-“

“I know mama, let go.” He worked you through your first orgasm as it washed over you, you tilted your head back as you saw stars.

Pulling his fingers, he sucks on them making sure to get every drop of you as he hums contently. He then removes your panties, as he places his hands on your waist letting you hover over his lap. You kissed his lips softly, as he fumbled around his pants pockets.

“Shit…” He groans quietly.

“What’s wrong?” You caress his face.

“I don’t have a condom with me…”

“If you want to continue, I’m on birth control. It’s only one time…” You smile softly, as you and Josh had always used protection just for the sake of avoiding the chances of a pregnancy scare.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to pressure you…” He grabbed your face gently.

You nodded, “I’m more than sure. It’s okay, I trust you.” You smiled, kissing his lips softly, feeling him line himself up with you.

Slowly you sink down, feeling him stretch you out. As the two of you gasp feeling each other for the very first time without a layer of latex. It felt different and so much better, but you knew this would be the only time for a while.

“God… I’m not sure I’ll last.” He moans underneath you, holding your waist firmly.

“Look at me…” You grabbed his face gently, as he locked eyes with you. “I know this feels different than normal, but we’ll make it last.” You kissed his lips softly as you kept a slow pace on rolling your hips.

Kissing you back, he moaned into your mouth as the two of you got lost in each other. He gripped your hips some more, before moving his hands down to your ass gripping firmly as he spread your cheeks earning moans from you as you continued to ride him.

After riding at a slow pace, you decided to pick the pace up a bit. Bouncing on his cock, earning a groan from him as he smacks your ass. Earning a yelp from you, placing your hands on his chest to help hold yourself. He grabbed your face, kissing you roughly.

After a few more rolls of your hips, he was thrusting up to meet your hips. He was starting to falter a bit, signaling he was closer than he thought.

“Baby, I… Where?” His hair was sticking to his forehead as sweat was beating down his face.

“Inside…” You whined, throwing your head back.

He held you close to him as he took over, using his feet to thrust into you using his free hand to rub circles onto your clit to bring you to your last orgasm.

“Fuck…” You felt your body go into overdrive as you orgasm crashed like a wave. And he wasn’t too far as he groaned thrusting two more times after he finally stilled inside of you, coating you inside with his release.

You rest your forehead against his, panting with him as he smiles softly kissing your lips. You kissed him back giggling softly, as he slipped out of you carefully, grabbing napkins to clean up your mess.

After cleaning yourselves up, you put your pants back on, deciding on sitting and watching the stars for the rest of the evening together.

June 2018

The guys released their double-EP back in November. They even toured in Europe for the Spring while doing some shows here in the states during the summer.

You graduated just a month ago, giving you the free time to go on the small leg of the tour with the guys, it was fun being on the road with them. But sharing a small van with 4 guys could be a bit much.

Josh and yourself had started considering getting an apartment in the city somewhere, or waiting to rent a home until the two of you could afford to buy a home. As your relationship was getting more serious. But you also weren’t sure if you wanted to stay in Michigan to pursue your film and photography career.

While being on the road with them, you always called home to check in on your dad. You felt a little guilty for not being there with him, but he assured you that it would be better if you went out and saw a little bit of the world with the guys.

On your way back home, Josh and yourself decided that he would stay over for the weekend while you guys looked over more listings and figured out where you wanted to live. As you had to get a head start on diving into your career.

After being dropped off, you guys said your goodbyes to the rest of the guys walking into your very empty and quiet house. Which threw you off guard, but you figured maybe your family went out to the lake for the day. And ventured upstairs to your bedroom with Josh.

“So I did get an offer for Nashville.” You smiled softly as you set your bags down.

“That’s amazing!” Josh smiles, kissing your cheek.

“It’s just, with everything with my dad… I don’t know if moving to Nashville is too sudden or selfish of me.” You sighed sitting on your bed.

“Sunny, it’s not selfish. I think it's great if you want to move to Nashville. The scene down there… I mean you saw it. It’s always busy, and I’m sure you would fit right in.” He rubbed your hand gently.

“And the guys and I have been talking about moving down there ourselves… With working on our first full album, we’re going to be traveling a lot there. And figured we would save ourselves.” He chuckled softly.

“It wouldn’t hurt I guess…” You smiled shyly. Then your phone started ringing, seeing your mom’s contact appear.

“Mom. Wait, I can barely understand you… I, it’s DAD! I’ll be there, just wait.” You hung up with her, looking at Josh frantically.

“We have to go, it's my dad.” You scattered around your room finding your car keys, as tears filled your eyes.

“Sunny, woah! Let me drive, you’re in no shape.” He grabbed the keys from you, helping you out of the car, opening the door for you. He hopped in the driver's side starting the car up and heading over to the hospital.

On the way over it felt like forever although Josh was practically blowing almost every stop sign to get you there as quickly as possible. You were crying and fidgeting your hands nervously not knowing what’s going on.

After a few minutes Josh snapped you out of your daze, and helped you rush inside the hospital asking the receptionist where he was located and immediately you were taken back with Josh following right behind you. When finding the room you walk in to see your mom sitting beside your father crying at his hand, while your sister sat in the corner crying.

This was it… His time has come. And there was no way of turning back…

“Hey… pumpkin.” He spoke softly, but tried to sound enthusiastic as he smiled weakly.

“Dad…” You rushed over to his other side, grabbing his hand kissing it softly as tears kept coming down your face.

“Hey now… No crying. We prepared for this.” He used his one hand to rub your cheek, you moved your hand on top of his.

“I’m not ready Dad…” You cried into his touch, as he kept rubbing your cheek.

“Yes you are Y/N. You’ve been ready… It’s time to make something of yourself and to make me proud.”

“I’m scared.” You whispered as you choked back tears.

“There’s no need, I’ll always be with you… And you have your mom, sister and Josh. Come on over here son…” He choked up.

Josh rushed over to your side, placing a hand on your shoulder rubbing circles reassuringly.

“Hi Sir…” He smiled weakly as tears filled his eyes.

“Treat her right, just like you always have… And whenever the time may come or be.” A few tears slipped from your dads eyes. “You have my blessing.”

Josh smiled softly, as a few tears slipped. “I’ll make sure she is always taken care of. You won’t ever have to worry.” He chuckled softly, as your dad nodded in agreement.

“Dad, I love you so so much…” You stifled back a sob.

“And I love you pumpkin, more than you’ll ever know. Come here.” He motioned for you, and you embraced him as best as you could hugging him tightly and he hugged you back as tight as his body would let him.

You pulled away, standing beside Josh while your sister came over to your mom, as you all stayed beside your dad for the last few minutes of his life.

After moments had passed and your father shared his last breath. You stood there in silence as your mother’s sobs soared the room as well as your sisters. Whereas you stood silent taking in everything. Feeling yourself close off, you backed away slowly feeling completely numb.

Josh’s grip on your hand stayed as he followed you out of the room. “Sunny…” He called to you, shaking your head slightly and you felt tears threatening again.

“No… This isn’t supposed to… It isn’t real.” You broke out, sliding down against the wall in the hallway.

“Baby…” He kneeled down to you, trying to pick you up as you pushed his hands away.

“This isn’t fair Josh! He deserved more.” You cried looking up at him. “He needed more time!”

Josh nodded, picking you up engulfing you in a hug as you wrapped yourself around him, crying into his chest.

“I’m here, let it out.” He rubbed your back softly. And you did, you stood there letting it all out, accepting your father was gone.

One Month Later

A week after your father’s passing your family held a funeral service and a burial. It was beautiful and the outcome was nice, seeing family from Florida and childhood friends from there too for support in these hard times.

Josh had been helping you through it, completely being by your side while attending to his duties with the band. You were grateful, but felt bad for taking him away from his responsibilities. You had been trying to get yourself busy with work, getting clients for photoshoots before making a decision on where you’ll be taking your career off.

Although Josh and yourself haven’t decided on where you would move too. In fact the conversation hasn’t been brought up since the night of your father’s death. You didn’t want your decision to depend on Josh, but you didn’t want to wait around much longer either and ruin your chances at jumpstarting your opportunity.

You were pretty set to move to Nashville especially with an offer you were given. There was a really nice apartment that you had set a deposit on, although there were other potential tenants that could beat you to it. But you were hopeful.

Lately you’ve felt a little out of place, with everything. You haven’t felt like the best partner to Josh lately, and have felt like you’ve been lacking at what you love to do. And a tour was coming up again for him in another few months. You had already started packing up most things in your room to prepare for whenever the day would come to pack up and go.

“Sunny! We are so freaking lucky for this next small tour! You get to come with us.” He smiled brightly, embracing you tightly.

You hugged him back, smiling weakly to yourself. Feeling a little nervous with what you’re about to say.

“Josh…”

“I know what you’re thinking, ‘I don’t want to intrude on your guys' time.’ And you wouldn’t be!” He pulled away smiling at you still.

“Josh it’s not that…” You chewed on your lip nervously.

“What’s the matter?” He looked at you concerned.

“I accepted an offer…”

“I thought you were going to take the year off?” He questioned.

“Josh I can’t just take a year off!” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I have to jumpstart my career, while I can. If I don’t start now, I never will… And I don’t want to be stuck here…”

“But you can come and be our personal photographer… And, what’s so bad about here?” He tried to reason with you.

“I could never bloom with my career here… There’s just no way, and I can’t be your personal photographer… Sure it would be nice. But I have to do this for myself Josh. You guys can’t always be the ones to help me out.” You smiled weakly, placing your hand on his cheek.

“I just don’t understand… We can work through it and get your career going.”

“Because I have to do this on my own!” You yelled, a little louder than you’d like to admit.

He stood back a bit, looking at you. “So what are we supposed to do?”

“I thought you would support me, and tell me to go. And hopefully you would move in with me so that you can be home when you’re not touring the world.” You looked at him with tears building in your eyes.

“I can’t just pack my things up and move Y/N… The band. And we just aren’t entirely ready to move to Nashville just yet…” He looked at you, with a look that was breaking your heart.

“So… You’ve just been lying to me for months…”

“It’s not like that Sunny!” He sounded frustrated, “It’s far from that. I love you so much. But I mean I can’t just pack up and go with where we are in our career with the band…”

“And you expected me to give up mine?” You felt the tears start to fall. “I thought we were, I thought this was…”

“This doesn’t have to end… You’re still my girl, and my love has never changed for you.” He caressed your cheek, wiping away the tears.

“No… Because I’m just going to hold you back… and we’re at completely different points of our life right now. It would just make things difficult.” You looked up at him, your heart breaking as you spoke.

“You wouldn’t hold me back.” He chuckled softly.

You pulled away, “Yes I would, and I already have… After my dad died, you’ve been making sure to be there for me all the time. Sometimes calling things off with the band, you can’t jeopardize your career for me.”

“I can manage how I handle things… Y/N don’t do this.” He looked to you with pleading eyes, tears building up as they began to fall.

“No. I can’t hold you back. I have to let you go and be you…” You choked on your words, caressing his cheek.

“This was supposed to be forever…” His voice broke, as he looked down at you. He ran his thumb over your lips.

“I just think with everything going on… We’re at completely different places in our lives right now. And it’s not fair to either one of us Josh.” You breathed through your broken sobs.

“I’m never going to stop loving you, you know that right?” He held your face in his hands.

You nodded looking at him, “I’ll never stop loving you…” You smiled softly, leaning in to kiss him one last time. His lips connected with yours as the two of you shared your last kiss together.

After pulling apart from one another you gave him a look. “Just don’t hold back because of me. If later on you find someone… Don’t be afraid to move on.” You gave him a half smile caressing his cheek.

“Don’t even go there… There won’t be anyone else. I’ll wait. Till you are ready.” He smiled softly, capturing you one final time.

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To be continued

Taglist-

@fkfearandliveyourlegend @hi-hi-hello11 @gretnavannfleet @gvfmuse @meetingthestardust @myleftsock @twistedmelodies @thunderstomp-and-tequila @devilat-thedoor @vanillabear27 @dharma-divine33 @holybananafuck @thecoldwind @gretavanmoon @maren-gvf @itsafullmoon @gretasfallingsky @wagnerbrainrot @piratejakesgf @wetkleenex-gvf

(if you’re not tagged it’s because your tag didn’t work so i’m sorry in advance)

#greta van fleet #gvf #josh kiszka #josh gvf #josh kiszka x reader #greta van smut #gvf smut #josh kiszka series #josh greta van fleet #joshua kiszka #josh kiszka greta van fleet #josh kiszka fic #dawn of love josh #greta van fleet fluff #greta van fic #greta van fleet fan fiction

[nervocat]

“You're brought what is seemingly an old page from an old book that the library once had. The kitten looked up at you a mewed, wanting you to read it . . . ”

major spoilers for High Cloud Quintet lore as well as Blade, Dan Heng, Jingliu and (minor) Jing Yuan lore | wc: 267

“Blade..” you murmur, looking at him as he stands across from you. He narrows his eyes, sword at his side.

“[name]..” he replies, tone deep as he keeps his distance. There's some silence before you speak to him for the first time in centuries.

“So.. how's it been, Ying-”

“Don't,” Blade cuts you off, his eyes narrowing further. You nod curtly.

“Blade, how's it been?” you corrected yourself. Ever since Dan Feng had committed his crimes, Jingliu lost herself to the Mara and disappeared, Yingxing became Blade and Baiheng died, you haven't been able to have any type of chat with anyone other than Jing Yuan.

Blade stays silent for a moment again before answering with a “Could be better,” and still eyeing you. What used to be gentle blue eyes were now a piercing red, staring right through you instead of at you.

Silence falls over the two old friends again, and Blade breaks that silence.

“Of six people,” he paused, pointing his sword at you as you remind straight-faced, looking at him dead on. "Three must pay a price, and you are not one of them, [name]."

You sigh as Blade sets his sword back down to his side, the tip of the sword facing the blue sky of Scalegorge Waterscape. You two keep eyes locked, his red eyes seemingly staring through you as he turns on his back to you and walks to the lady behind him to leave to who knows where.

You just wish things could go back to when life was good, but you had accepted long ago, that that was impossible. ☆

🐾 ★ — © nervocat || I appreciate any reblogs made, and pls don't repost or translate my works anywhere, ty — ✦ ☁️

#🗯️ ͏ ͏͏ ͏: ͏ ͏ ͏ forgotten stories ˑ ִ✷ #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗ #had to write some Blade before I work on my last request #a series idea for him though that's completely like #platonic angst with little to no comfort with Blade and reader as the main focus #didn't rlly plan on doing series at all but sometimes I like my ideas too much lol (not to sound full of myself tho) #(I just rlly like this idea) #honkai star rail #star rail #hsr #x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #hsr x gn reader #hsr x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x gn reader #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x reader #blade x gender neutral reader #blade x gn reader #blade x reader #platonic #platonic hsr #platonic honkai star rail #platonic blade #platonic angst

[vaguely-concerned]

Thinking about the symbolic weight of smoking in the TLT universe that comes to the fore in The Unwanted Guest -- the way it moves through from person to person: Pyrrha smoked, and Augustine wanted to impress her in all her stone cold fox MILF James Bond glory (and tbf who wouldn't) so he started too. and even though as far as he knows she's been gone for a myriad and is never coming back, he keeps the habit. Ianthe sees something in the hollowed-out Faberge eggshell of Augustine that resonates with her, all that gilded eloquent emptiness and disdain through the ages, so she picked it up from him to try to emulate it. She picked it up so hard that Palamedes -- the exact spiritual antithesis of the 'smoking! on a space station! what a powermove' ennui Ianthe so admired -- spontaneously unnerded enough to even known how to, simply from a sort of contact contamination of the soul.

G1deon and Augustine sharing a jittery smoke after their near-Harrow experience during soup night, and it's the closest thing to any real sense of brotherhood that remains between them. Pyrrha going ten thousand years dying both literally and for a smoke (and then Camilla sold her fucking cigarettes (for a third of what they were worth, probably Pyrrha's own good, and also more importantly grocery money). what an entirely haunted time to be alive etc.). Augustine and Mercy trading a cigarette back and forth in the middle of their collusion over the love and murder of god.

An act of small and measured self-destruction in the name of something a little bit like connection when you're stuck somewhere in yourself where love itself dares not or cannot tread (ritualized, transmissible)..........

#the unwanted guest #the unwanted guest spoilers #the locked tomb #ianthe tridentarius #augustine the first #pyrrha dve #palamedes sextus #this series is going to make me lose my mind completely one day (affectionate) #the locked tomb meta #the fact that ianthe seems to have had some genuine admiration for augustine makes my head spin. of course though. #of course she sees the person who looks the most like he's successfully made himself impervious to the world #utterly untouchable and impossible to hurt because he isn't even really there #and she believes it! even after seeing the john mercy augustine mess at the end! because it's such a seductive idea #when you've stuck yourself in an inevitable ocean of pain to think you could make yourself numb enough that it doesn't matter #it's the emotional equivalent of 'oh there's water all around? well I just won't breathe in then. easy lmao get on my level' #she holds on to that thing from him even when it's been proved to be both impossible and ultimately untrue even in him #because uh. oh I'm about to be kind of sad for ianthe what the fuck is going on. he might actually have been the closest thing #to parental and especially paternal affection she's ever known. certainly known enough to try to model herself after #IMAGINE how fucked up the nine houses must be when augustine the first registers for anyone as a model of psychological survival #ianthe do you really want to be yourself completely so much that you're willing to be nothing. I mean yeah probably but. oh my god #gaining nothing at the cost of everything

[lord-squiggletits]

No offense but I feel like among IDW1 Megatron fans you can lowkey tell who's read multiple series of the comics (namely, phase 1 and early phase 2) and who's only read MTMTE by the way they talk about, headcanon, or write Megatron. And like it does genuinely make a huge difference because I feel like MTMTE Megatron in general is a different flavor of Megatron from the rest of the series..... not OOC, that's the wrong word, but like....... more as if JRO had a very specific vision of him and janked the reins of the series to drive Megatron down a specific interpretation of his character, which is still in-character but is very different from the way he was characterized early in the series.

But in terms of Megatron fans, you can really tell the difference between MTMTE-only readers and other-parts-of-IDW readers.

#squiggposting #not all of them are negative difference but like #for me it seems like the mt/mt/e M only readers tend to have a softer idea of M #or like. they're less willing to accept he did bad things. even though mt/mte HAS some of the worst things M did #like idk sometimes it feels as if that group of readers stans an entirely different idw M and it's hard to put a finger on #it's not even them writing M ooc it's more like. they seem to view his mt/mte self as like the ultimate incarnation #and treat his previous appearances/personalities with disdain or even claiming they're ooc #but like. to me it's mt/mt/e autobot M that's the one that's different and unusual #but ppl literally come into this series with m/tmt/e and god help you if you try to coax them into reading anythign else #plus like no offense but it's my honest opinion that JRO handled mt/mte M with silk gloves on #or like. some kind of gentler treatment and less harsh narrative consequences than he would've gotten if written by say Barber #it's weird to see people sucking JRO's dick clean off about how he wrote M when JRO's style in general is quite flawed #it feels like these people haven't read anything of idw1 and see JRO's writing as like the only valid way of writing M or any other charact #anyways i feel like if you only read mt/mte you don't even get a complete picture of M as a person #like in order to appreciate his heel face turn you honestly have to see him as he was before #otherwise wtf do you think he has to redeem himself from??? being mean to a couple people on the lost light???

[dontgofarfromme]

[ID: Eight screenshots of highlighted text.

Image 1 reads: "And you know that I love you, Fool. As a man loves his dearest friend. I feel no shame in that. But to let Jek or Starling or anyone think we take it beyond friendship's bound, that you would want to lie with me, is--" I paused. I waited for his agreement. It did not come. Instead, he met my eyes with his open amber gaze. There was no denial in them."I love you," he said quietly. "I set no boundaries on my love. None at all. Do you understand me?"

Image 2 reads: "He did mean you, did he not? Well of course he did, though you may not know it. I doubt you know the custom of the people he came from; how they exchange names to denote the lifelong bonds they form? Did you ever call him by your name, to show him that he was as dear to you as your own life? Or were you too much of a coward to let him know?"

Image 3 reads: "Not by me," he replied decisively. "If you insist we must both take different names now, then I shall call you 'Beloved." And whenever I call you that, you may call me 'Fool."

Image 4 reads: "There it is. Plainly, Fitz, I told you I set no limits on my love for you. I don’t. Yet I never expected you to offer me your body. It was the whole of your heart, all for myself, that I sought. Even though I've never had a right to it. For you gave it away ere ever you saw me."

Image 5 reads: Just as I opened my eyes, the Fool's thought uncurled in my mind like a leaf opening to sunlight. And I set no limits on that love. "It's too much," I said brokenly. "No one can give that much. No one."

Image 6 reads: He lifted his hand. "Did you feel that?" I asked him. He smiled sadly. "Fitz, I have never needed to touch you to feel that. It was always there. No limits." Some part of me knew that was important. That once it would have mattered terribly to me. I tried to find words. "I will put that in my wolf," I said, and he turned away sadly.

Image 7 reads: I bent and kissed his brow in farewell. And then, grasping the rightness of that foreign tradition, I named him as myself. For when I burned him, I knew I would be ending myself, as well. The man I had been would not survive this loss. "Good-bye, FitzChivalry Farseer."

Image 8 reads: "Take your body back from me," I bade him quietly. And so we passed, one into the other, but for a space we had been one. The boundaries between us had melted in the mingling. "No limits," I recalled him saying, and suddenly understood. No boundaries between us.

End ID]

We are one

#rote #fitzloved #realm of the elderlings #i dont know if im ever going to be over this series lol #also i just have a lot of thoughts about how #like idk if its universally true that this is specifcally a queer theme #or if its just something ive seen several places #but i feel like ive come across this thing in a lot of queer stories #of like #loving someone so much and with such violent intensity that you want to be them #not like just be them like you wish you were them INSTEAD of them #but like be them as though you were both them and you were bot hyou #as though you were one person #like KNOWING someone so much and them knowing you so much that you become a part of each other #wanting to consume someones soul and have them consume yours etcetcetc #anyway for this whole series fitz is turning that idea over in his mind #wanting it so desperately but being afraid of letting that last bit of himself go completely #and the culmination of the series when they go into the stone wolf together is him finally fully giving that up #and idk. thats just very gay of him. #also spot the quote i had to jankily rig together myself bc i couldnt get the book back from the library lol #everyone has fools errand out for some reason #my dumb ass writing the final quote wrong whoops lol

[frogonamelon]

Practically All of the Non Hamato and Non Villian characters

(also known as I have brainrot about my turtles’ world and wanted to share the human (or ‘human’) squad with you!)

The closest manhole to the turtles’ lair is in the center of the courtyard of Arcadia Apartments, a small 2 story building with three apartments on each story, the owner’s apartment (although it's functionally abandoned), and a communal laundry/ other uses space. The residents of these apartments are the characters I want to share with you today!

April [Top Left]: A human woman in her early 20s just getting on her feet  while going for her degree in Anthropology at the local community college. She is an amateur journalist who runs a blog about local cryptids and legends that people think are fun but no one really believes. April finds out the truth about these cryptids on one fateful rainy night on her way home from a late night class.

Casey [Bottom Left]: A 20 something year old mechanic by day and vigilante by night under the name The Penalizer. Due to issues with his mom and his dad out of the picture, he lives with and has not so legally recognized custody of his younger sister (although he has a hard time being there for her with everything going on.) He has played every sport known to man but his true love is ice hockey. Despite all logic, he is a morning person. 

Angel [Not Depicted]: Casey’s 15 year old sister who has been mixed up with the Purple Dragons for some time. Due to Casey not being around to check her, she is able to go out with them without intervention.

Frankie and Sydney [Top Right]: A couple in their early 30s who live in the human world with their two young children: Sunita (age 5) and Timothy (age 2) [Not Depicted]. Frankie is an entertainer for rent at various establishments and events while Sydney works as a bartender at Run of the Mill. Sydney is a cool mom type with Frankie being a goofy doting husband. That one couple who give really good advice and are destined to be a cute old couple one day. 

Irma [Middle Left]: A type A very structured and successful hardass (affectionate) woman in her late 20s maybe early 30s. Irma works at Stockman Enterprises in one of their engineering labs. At least… as a cover. She is a robotic human suit being piloted by a smaller yokai being that resembles a gray alien.

Keno [Small in the Center]: A mid to late 20s man who's just living life and working as a delivery man. He games in his free time and is honestly living the most chill life of all of them. Can and absolutely will cook for everyone, as long as they pitch in financially of course. Is the first and only person April told about the turtles after that fateful night. When he inevitably joins forces with the turtles, he is backup tech support, hacking, manning drones, machines, and cameras from their lair (or his own apartment setup) whenever Donnie’s unable to in the field. 

Mei [Center Leftish]: I’m going to keep this brief as I’ve explained her backstory and role here. This is her in her younger days, back when she was more aggressive and inexperienced in the ways of the world outside the arena but after her defeat at the hands of Splinter/ Shen. Despite being a source of wisdom for her neighbors, I could see her becoming an antagonist with the right motivation.

This character doesn’t live with the others but I drew him here:

Yukichi [Bottom Right]: The cousin and mentee of Miyamoto Usagi. After an event in his past, he was shot through the multiverse, unable to find his way back. He travels around the multiverse as a ronin helping/ protecting people and exploring the various universes. He has a sword with the mystic power to control the wind (a la the mythology around Grasscutter and Yuichi having a mystic weapon). 

It's likely I’ll do a separate post about him someday and why I made this decision in depth, but it felt too strange to change Miyamoto this much, but this version of Leo doesn’t match Yuichi’s personality. I thought the premise of taking a naiver and more optimistic character and having him become more like his mentor through experience would be interesting.

#lively's turtles #Frankie: God I love my wife <3<3<3 my queen <3<3 the brightest star above #Irma is inspired by Otto from A Man Called Otto #Utroms are just grey alien yokai in this universe instead of being kraang #Sydney's from the 2003 series #I wanted cyberpunk Usagi so bad I made him a completely different character #The idea that every member of the Usagi family has the Captain Marvel 'everyone calls me Fury' treatment is honestly really funny to me #Debating doing that to Yukichi (I know he has a different last name but side of the family is inconsistent in the wiki) #Its hard to tell but Venus' prosthetics are inspired by that one porcelain leg and its floral designs #The paintings themselves though match Future IDW Lita's tattoos #Venus' headwear is meant to be a combination of bubble to protect kappa dish and very simplified chinese opera headpiece #Also eyemarkings are jin chan gold diamonds + chinese opera eyeshadow #This is like my 3rd time posting about this version of Venus how did I get here #tmnt casey jones #tmnt #tmnt au #tmnt 2k12 #rottmnt #tmnt 2k18 #save rottmnt #save rise of the tmnt #save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt keno #tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2018 #tmnt 2k3 #tmnt 2003 #tmnt venus #tmnt irma #tmnt april

[troutfur]

Side benefit to the plot rework to All Eyes on You: I get to submit it to both the Disabled Warrior Cats Representation and the Warrior Cats Rarepairs collections. That makes me so happy, those are both amazing collections that deserve more love. :)

#augur au #to Aaron and his sons #Aaron is shaping up to be a series where the themes of disability are front and center #and not only in exploring the idea of how inbreeding affects patricians #Jayfeather's blindness is explicitly completely unrelated to him being a patrician #and even though in some senses I'm allowing him to just exist as a disabled person without it being a major driver of conflict #it still affects him and it's an important part of addressing his story #this one will explore that the most I think #I'm very proud of what I've done with him for augur AU specifically #hope y'all will like it too

[micer2012]

a reflection on MatPat's plagiarism

Hello, my name is Della, or micer2012, and 2 years ago Game Theory plagiarized three Tumblr posts of mine, making a video that now holds almost 6 million views.

My posts explaining his plagiarism made their rounds on Reddit, Tumblr and Twitter, but despite the Hermits and Pooka commenting on it (generally in support of me or saying they don’t know enough details about the situation to say either way), MatPat and his team have never owned up to anything, and no mention of my name is present on the video. The one Reddit post they made denying it (which was made before my detailed takedown, which they have never responded to (though the mods on the r/GameTheorists Reddit were kind and made sure it stayed up)) didn’t even mention me by name, just referring to me as “a tumblr user”. (Though one of the screenshotted comments in the body of the post does say my name)

This experience was baffling, but it’s overall had a positive impact on my life. r/Hermitcraft gave me a Golden Apple Award (post of the year, 2021). My inbox was filled with excited fans, wanting to ask me questions or pose their own theories, far more than the hate I got. (Though the hate I got from Game Theory fans was VERY funny. I wondered why none of them gave me shit about saying “MatPat misgendered Evil Xisuma” before realizing none of them read that far into the post.)

And getting on a more personal, and much more important note, I met most of my current online friends through this, including my partner. It helped me grow closer with my irl friends as well and gave me an entertaining story that I tell whenever I have the chance. It was one of the first things in my life that really made me feel like my talents, my autistic hyperfocusing and analyzing of things I love, could be valuable. Useful. Exploitable. It blew my mind that MatPat thought an autistic kid’s ramblings about a Minecraft Youtube joke character were good enough to steal. To put an audible sponsorship on. To get 6 million views off of.

And that’s why I’m writing this post, this update years later. As you might’ve been able to guess, Hbomberguy’s Youtube video on plagiarism reopened this wound. It was really hard for me to sit through, it took days of pausing and taking breaks, because I had experienced everything he was talking about firsthand. 

In my 10 page long takedown post, I wrote about how his rewording of my sentences made him say things that were incorrect, just like Filip did. The content farm production style that made big companies like Cinemassacre take one creator (AVGN/MatPat) and turn him and his content into a brand, a voice that reads out scripts by other people with other opinions/theories, is a history shared with Game Theory. What really hit me was Harris talking about how big creators only do this to people they think they can get away with doing it to. How they view their victims as lesser, as not deserving of their words, repackaging them as their own to give to an audience that can gain from hearing them, but deserves better than to have to listen to the original victim.

That’s the thing, I 100% think a video version of my theory to expose to a bigger community than “Evil Xisuma Fans on Tumblr” is a great idea!! Near the end of the video Harris talks about how video adaptations of things could be a great market, even an accessibility tool, and I completely feel that about my posts. I wrote them quickly assuming the reader was someone well versed on Evil Xisuma lore, after not even watching most of the CarnEvil series, and the diagrams I made to explain them are even less comprehensible. Harris makes a joke that I completely agree with, 

“I’m sure some of my videos would do very well if someone translated them into English.”

I don’t think I would’ve ever made my posts if I didn’t have autism, and a special fixation on Evil Xisuma and Hermitcraft. I made them because I felt the character was being done an injustice, and because I wanted to share with other superfans this theory that might explain it away. I do think that MatPat plagiarizing me was ableist. I used to wonder a lot if this would’ve happened if my posts were articulated better, if they had been peer reviewed, if the posts themselves had been spread to a wider audience before MatPat made his video. At one point when the discourse was fresh (before I had the time to write out my 10 page rebuttal), a bigger YouTuber (100k subs at the time) messaged me and started talking on Discord, interested in possibly making a video on the discourse, but I think my style of typing and general enthusiasm drove him away. You can tell by a single look at my blog (or my original 3 posts!) that I don’t usually type like this. This post you’re reading now has been peer reviewed and edited, and took me hours to format correctly. That video could’ve been huge, the entire outcome of this MatPat situation would probably be much different.

I also used to stress a lot about “being the one who ruined Evil Xisuma’s story”. If you didn’t know, to me S8 Evil Xisuma’s story got wrapped up pretty quickly and unsatisfying (in my personal autistic opinion). (though this might’ve been due to s8 being experimental and ending early with moon big) There was no real culmination of the plot points and arcs going on, and I don’t want to blame myself, but when Xisuma said on stream (when the MatPat thing was first going on) that he didn’t want to focus on the discourse or draw more attention to it, it makes a lot of sense to me that he just wanted to wrap it all up as quickly as possible. For a while I beat myself up about it, of ruining the story of this character I love, but it’s not my fault. If anyone’s, it’s MatPats, but I don’t think it’s useful to just blame someone else. That’s how the story ended up going, and that’s fine. This is Evil Xisuma we’re talking about, their inconsistent lore is what made them such an interesting character. And notably, Pooka made an animation with an awesome culmination of Jeff, the Dreamer, Evil Xisuma, and his own sona’s story, and it makes me so happy to watch. Whatever Pooka does is of course his own choice, but I’m glad he got to give this personal story his own ending (if it is an ending, and not just the start of a new chapter!). 

Typing this all out and getting it off my chest has made me feel a lot better. For a while I wanted to make my OWN video essay about Evil Xisuma’s lore and CarnEvil’s lore, actually going episode by episode to explain it instead of just assuming you knew as much about Evil Xisuma as I did. That idea is still not off the table, but MCYT isn’t something I’m that into right now. Maybe if something else comes out about Evil Xisuma I’ll get back on it, but for now I’m fine with letting that go. But I want to make other videos, share other theories and analysis… if I have the freetime I’d love to make YouTube videos, and if I don’t have the time I’ll continue posting to my tumblr and infodumping to my friends. Apparently my infodumping is valuable enough “content” to steal! Writing this out has made me feel a lot better though, I’m really glad I got it out.

If anyone ever wants to talk to me about the things I’m obsessed with, or reach out to me as a source in a bigger discussion about Game Theory or other channels, my inbox is more than welcome :] Thank you for reading! 

Sincerely, a tumblr user.

#exiavojtmmc #hermitcraft #matpat #gt #game theory #hc #mcyt #evil xisuma #hbomberguy #plagiarism #james somerton #jeff the minion #mine #micer2012 #hcs9

[daisynik7]

A Helping Hand

Pairing: Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.3k

cw: next-door neighbor Nanami, p*rn no plot, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl), vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, cream pie, sex without a condom, mention of sex toys, use of pet names (sweetheart), just horny things lol 

Summary: You’re so completely insatiable that you’re going a tad bit insane. You enlist the aid of your next-door neighbor Nanami, who you know is more than willing to help.

Author’s Note: idk, just feeling a little feral for him, that’s all. this is a silly one, sorry. MDNI divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

part 2 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series

You stare wide-eyed up at the ceiling of your bedroom, legs apart, the blankets shrugged off to the side. You’re naked from the waist-down, panties tossed to the floor with your vibrator hanging loosely in your grip. You’ve been going at it for nearly half an hour now, trying to chase a high that you just can’t seem to reach on your own. Sure, you’re doing fine. That’s just it, though. It’s just fine. Nothing spectacular, nothing mind-blowing. Tonight, you’re desperate to be filled, aching to be stuffed. Stimulation on your clit alone isn’t enough to satiate your appetite. 

You. Need. Cock.

And you think you know exactly where to find it. 

Nanami is your next-door neighbor. He’s quiet, even a bit shy at times. You’ve always found him attractive. Aside from his obvious good looks, he’s been kind to you since you met him when you moved in months ago. You’ve shared several meals together after you gave him fresh herbs and cherry tomatoes from your garden. That seemed to break the ice between you. Nothing more has ever happened, though there’s a palpable tension that surrounds you whenever you’re together, almost like you’re both willing to cross the line from neighbors to lovers, but too scared to do so. Subtle glances, lingering touches, suggestive comments. 

If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.

Whatever you need, I’ll be here.

I’m here for you if you need me.

Tonight, you’re in heat, daring to march right into his apartment and ask him for a huge favor. This might go horribly wrong, and maybe you’ll end up moving out from sheer embarrassment, but you know what? The fantasy of taking his big cock deep in your pussy is enough to convince you that it’s worth a shot. 

You wrap yourself in a robe, not bothering to put on any underwear, still wet from your previous orgasms. With three gentle knocks on his door, your heart starts to race, your instincts willing you to walk right back into your apartment and forget about this ridiculous idea. It’s too late, however. He answers, surprised to see you. You greet him with a weak smile, suddenly shy in his presence. “Hello, Nanami. Sorry to bother you.”

“You’re not,” he replies, stepping aside to let you in. “Are you alright?”

He shuts the door closed and you don’t have the nerve to look him in the eye. You were so confident just moments ago, and now look at you. Trembling and flustered. You cross your arms over your chest, unsure what to say. 

You feel him right behind you now, his body heat radiating towards you, close enough that if either of you moved even the slightest bit, you’d be touching. His breath is warm on your ear. “Are you alright?” he repeats, genuine concern in his voice. He’s always been so sweet to you. So nice. So helpful. Maybe he’d be okay with doing this for you, just this once. 

You turn to face him, cheeks hot, saliva gathering in your mouth. Swallowing thickly, you ask, “Can you help me?” It almost comes out as a whimper, a whine. So needy and so desperate for his touch.

His eyes drop to your waist, focused on the loose knot holding your robe together. His fingers tug gently at it, pulling it apart, revealing your half-naked body to him. You gasp softly, surprised and aroused by his sudden action. “Finally,” is all he mutters before pulling you in for a passionate kiss. He’s hungry and greedy, just like you are, tongue pushing against yours, eager for a taste of you. You moan into his mouth, pawing at his chest, bunching his shirt between your fists. He leads you to the couch, sitting down and hoisting you onto his lap, sliding the robe off your body along with the rest of your clothes. You’re completely bare for him now, spread out on his lap. He looks down between you, watching your arousal seep into his grey sweatpants. 

“So wet,” he groans. “How many times did you come tonight?” He grabs your chin, pulling you in to kiss you fiercely. 

“Three,” you answer, licking at his lips. 

He smiles against you, fingers trailing your body until they’re pressed to your puffy clit. “That sounds about right. I heard you through the walls, fucking yourself silly.”

“You did?” you huff, grinding on his palm, yearning for friction. 

He nods. “Oh yes. I heard every filthy moan from this pretty mouth of yours. Been waiting for you to finally give in and ask me for help.” He strokes your clit between his fingers, teasing your entrance to collect your cum, smearing it on your bud.

“Oh fuck,” you whine, rocking your hips against him. It feels so fucking good, but it’s still not enough. 

He knows exactly what you need. With his free hand, he shoves his pants down his legs, releasing his hard cock. You marvel at how pretty it is in his fist, stroking it and tapping it on your clit. You lift yourself off his lap to sink down onto his length, moaning wantonly until he’s all the way inside. Staying still, he kisses you sloppily, squeezing your ass in both his hands. 

“This is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it sweetheart?” He drags your bottom lip between his teeth, nuzzling his nose to yours. “You wanted this cock, and now you have it. Show me how badly you need it.” He leans back against the couch, resting his palms behind his head, watching you like a spectator. “Ride me until I fill you up.”

Too horny to protest (and why would you anyways?), you obey, stroking his cock at a slow pace until you can adjust to his massive size. Once it becomes a fluid motion, you speed up, slapping your ass against his thighs. He’s deep in your womb now, so deep you feel it in your stomach. This is precisely the high you’ve been chasing all night, and it only makes it sweeter knowing it’s with him. Your handsome, nice, and clearly well-endowed neighbor, Nanami Kento. 

He's can’t stand not touching you any longer. His hands return to your waist, bouncing you on his lap like a rag doll, yielding to his every thrust. “You needed my cock today, huh? Needed my dick to pound this tight pussy of yours. Your stupid little toys weren’t enough, were they?”

You shake your head erratically, so close now. “Need you, Kento. Needed this fat cock inside me.”

He growls at the sound of his name from your mouth. “Fuck, I needed this too. Been needing it for a while now.” He latches his lips around your nipples, sucking on them until they’re plump between his lips. His thumb caresses your sensitive clit, massaging gentle circles around it. Suddenly, everything is too much. You’re gushing for him, coating his cock in your cream, all messy and obscene. Soon, he comes too, stuffing you full of his seed. Just when you think it’s over, he pulls out to lay you flat on the couch, spreading your legs wide, a naughty grin on his face before he dives in, lapping at your combined arousal. 

You wake up with Nanami’s name spilling out of your mouth. Disoriented, you look around, finding yourself back in your own bed, alone. It was all a dream. A fucking dream (literally). Disappointed and still horny, you sigh, heading to the bathroom to clean yourself up, calling it quits for the night. 

To your surprise, there’s a knock on your door. When you go to answer it, Nanami stands before you, an obvious blush on his face and an even bigger bulge in his grey sweatpants. He steps towards you, a shy smile on his face. “I heard you calling my name. Sounds like you could use a helping hand.” 

#nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x you #kento nanami #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[macfrog]

sweet child o' mine | pt. i

purely just some fun and games putting big grumpy joel miller slap bang in the middle of a romcom. i hope you guys enjoy. dedicated to big sis @mrsmando, who is the light of my life, let herself be completely swept away by this idea into unhinged, whimsical mania with me, and who inspired so many lil details for this story. love u, zhort x

pairing: neighbor!joel x fem!reader

summary: you strike up a deal to attend a wedding with your neighbor as his date. what could go wrong?

warnings: age gap (late 20s reader, late 40s joel), grumpy!joel initially finds reader mildly infuriating, cursing, alcohol consumption, discussion of a car accident (non-graphic) & dead parents, softdom!joel as per, fingering, handjob, comeplay, spitting, drunk unprotected one night stand, creampie, praise kink, one mention of nausea (but nothing happens, my little emetophobic angels), someone falls pregnant and it's not joel miller i'll tell you that much. honk if you love cats!!!

word count: 9.8k 

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It’s just gone seven on a Saturday night when his knuckles rap on your door.

The sun casts tall, angled shapes on your living room wall. Lights the pages before you in a glow of tangerine. Refracts through the glass tumbler on your coffee table and bleeds the amber liquid onto the pale wood surface. Everything lit in some variation of gold, everything bowing its head quietly as the day begins to turn its back.

The house is still. The world feels still, as though transitioning. Like you’re sat in a waiting room, leg bouncing, anticipating something you don’t know to look for yet.

Perfect, comfortable, still – until he’s on your porch. And he knocks again.

You snap your book shut and slide it across the table, nudging the heavy glass. The ice clinks, irritated.

“You mind fastenin’ your…delicates to your clothesline a little better?”

His voice shoulders its way into your hallway before you’ve even pulled the door back enough to see him. Not that you need to see him to know who it is. You’ve lived in Austin three years now and met only one person with a voice as low and toneless as Joel Miller’s. Slung in sarcasm, dripping with disdain. All that.

You cross your arms and slant against the doorframe, unable to mask your amusement. “Excuse me?”

He answers by lifting his left hand. From his pointer finger hang a tiny pair of white panties, lace pattern fluttering in the late summer breeze. You glance over his shoulder as you steal them from his grasp, balling them in your fist.

“Uhuh. They were sitting on my back lawn. I have company tonight, y’know. I can’t have women’s underwear just – lyin’ in my damn yard.”

Your head tilts. Ears prick. “Company? You hostin’ somethin’?”

His shoulders drop with a sigh. “No. I am not hostin’ anythin’.”

“Good. ‘cause I’d want an invite.”

“If I were hostin’, you’d be the last person I would invite. And you know that.”

“Ouch,” you pout, “that hurts, Miller. I watered your plants while you were off visiting your brother last month. They woulda died without me there.”

“And I am grateful to you,” Joel grumbles, “but that doesn’t mean I need those anywhere in view of my kitchen window.” He throws a pointed finger to your elbow, where your panties sit scrunched in your fist.

You look down to the froth of frill spilling between your knuckles, and back up to his dark features – his glower casting a shadow over the hazel eyes and deepening the creases between his brows. You smirk, a realization dawning.

Company – that he doesn’t want seeing a pair of someone else’s underwear.

“You have a date.”

Joel’s tongue flicks across the inside of his cheek. He glances over his shoulder and speaks through his teeth. “No, not a date,” he quietly tells the street.

“But you have a lady comin’ over. Or at least – someone you don’t want seeing these.” You unfold your arms and twirl your fist. The gentle wind lifts the lace.

He grunts. A low hmph. Agreement, you think.

“Sounds like a date.”

He hisses, “’s not a date.”

Your stare doesn’t slip from his. Not when his brows tighten, not when his jaw does, too. Not even when he sucks a breath between gritted teeth. Your smile widens.

Finally, with a sigh, he concedes. “It’s…it’s somebody Tommy ‘n Maria are tryna set me up with. Alright?”

“So – a date.”

“If you don’t –” Joel’s head flicks over to his own driveway at the same time his hand lifts, a pointed gesture you read as – shut the fuck up. “We’re just having a few drinks. Just – hangin’ out.”

“Just hangin’ out,” you repeat, eyes widening. “One-on-one. With some woman who – Wait, Tommy’s in Wyoming. How the hell do he and his wife know someone way the hell down here?”

“From before they moved. And – Maria ain’t his wife. Yet. They’re getting married next month.”

Suddenly the sun reappears over the dark horizon. The evening begins to clear up, make sense again. You lift your chin, nodding.

“Right, right. So, she gonna be your plus one, or…?”

The understanding raises his heckles again. Exasperated, he asks, “How many damn questions are you gonna –? I’m only here to – to return your –” He nods once more to the pale fabric in your hand.

A laugh shoots from your nostrils. “What’s the matter? You don’t like – whatever her name is?”

“Laura.”

“Laura,” you breathe.

“And there ain’t nothin’ wrong with her. She just – she…”

“She…?”

“She has, like, five cats, and it’s just…hair, everywhere. And at their engagement party, she spilled an entire margarita down me. Right down my –” He sweeps a hand down his front, balling his fists again once they reach the hem of his shirt.

Your lips turn, amused. “Five cats. Cat lady Laura. Well. Have fun, I guess. Thanks for these.”

He acknowledges your raised fist with a bashful glance. He’s already halfway down your front steps when he says, “Keep an eye on your laundry from now on,” and strides off back to his own place.

Joel has lived here his whole life. In Austin. You’ve no idea when he moved in next door, just that he was here when you did. You don’t know much about him at all – the fact he even filled you in enough to tell you about his date is shocking enough.

The day you first arrived, U-Haul truck squealing to a halt by the curb, he found himself unlucky enough to be stood in his front yard watering the blond patches of his grass. He saw you struggling to open the rear door of the truck, and with a grumble and a glance across the street for a more eager rescuer, he tossed his hose and came over to help.

He unclicked the heavy latch and pushed the door up with enough ease to put you to shame. And he seemed to feel some obligation when he saw the mass of belongings stuffed in the back, to help you unload them. Didn’t seem overjoyed by the thought, mind you, what with the sigh he let slip when you hopped up and held out the first box.

He indulged you for no more than one hour. Answered every question you had about the neighborhood, dodged every one about himself. He told you about the couple across the street with the newborn baby, told you about your neighbor on the other side who pretends to garden just so she can snoop on everyone else’s business. And as soon as the last box thudded down on your gleaming living room floor, he nodded, and paced back over to his own property.

He's a good guy. You know this much. He’s a dick to you most days, but he’s honest, and he’s kind when you catch him in the right light. He takes deliveries for you when you’re not home; he once drove Diane to the vets when she showed up on his doorstep in the dead of night, Fred the Jack Russell ailing in her arms.

He’s observant. Noticed just this summer the three different plumbers who showed up to your house in the space of two days, and came over as the third guy was leaving – his shining bald head low between his shoulders.

‘s the matter? Joel asked, watching the navy overalls sink into the rusted vehicle.

Kitchen sink’s leakin’. Fuckin’ – nobody can fix it.

He shouldered you out of the way with his then-trademark sigh and left twenty minutes later, your kitchen finally free of the dripdripdrip you’d been plagued with for a week straight.

He’s good. He’s a good neighbor. But, man, is he private.

You’ve never seen the inside of his place. His body blocks it anytime you’re on his doorstep. He has a brother, you know that – though, only since last month, when he asked you to keep an eye on his garden – and you know, now, that the brother is getting married.

You know that he likes country music, know he plays guitar – accidentally. You heard him one day in the spring, when he left his window open and you were lounging by your pool. When he looked out and noticed how you’d angled your sunbed to listen, really listen, he slammed it shut.

You know he’s single and childless and has been for at least the three years you’ve lived next door to him.

You know little fucking else.

The words on the curled pages seep into one another. You’re staring through the book now back in your hands, the shape of your living room blurring around you: the brick fireplace, the still, red light of the TV. The lulling sway of the sheer curtains, pushed like the tides by the air through the open window.

You cross your ankles on the coffee table. Your lips purse. Tongue dabs at the smoky-sweet singe of whiskey on the flesh of your cheeks. From here, you can see the street outside Joel’s house. If – when – Laura pulls up, you’ll know. And you’ll be here to watch. Survey. Observe.

See what kind of woman a guy like Joel Miller takes to his brother’s wedding.

It’s nine fifty-two when she eventually leaves.

She’s been in there two hours and seventeen minutes. Her car – a kind of rotten green Chevrolet with one tail light out – sits patiently out front, like even it can’t wait to help her fucking disappear.

You’re hoisting a swollen black bag down your drive when his porch light flickers on and his front door opens. The glossy plastic exhales as it slumps against the trashcan. You dust your hands. Joel hasn’t noticed you yet.

“…so nice gettin’ to properly know you,” Laura’s crooning, sidestepping as Joel walks calmly down to her car. Ushering her. You hold back a laugh.

“Thanks for comin’,” he says, his voice falling flat in the windless evening. He’s a step ahead of her, like a parent leading their child away from the park. She’s still babbling about his six-string.

“Maybe next time I can hear a little somethin’…” she says, and you know from the way he halts that Joel hears the same questioning tone you do, the way somethin’ curls up at its end.

“Maybe,” he says, curtly. His words curl down. And then nothing else, and Laura – who, now that she’s a little closer, stood on the curb by her car door, you notice has sweeping golden hair which flicks away from her plump cheeks, and bright eyes which dazzle in the dusky glow – is forced to cough up one last chance.

“I gave you my number,” she says, then, “I didn’t get yours?” and this time, it’s definitely a question.

Joel pretends to pat down his pockets. “I musta left my phone in the house.”

You can’t help it. A scoff bursts from your lips. But he still doesn’t look over.

“Well,” Laura tugs on the handle, “thank you for a lovely evenin’. I’ll hear from ya.”

Joel smiles but puts a hand on the door, like he might slam it shut for her if she tried to backtrack. But she doesn’t. She swings both legs in, pulls it closed, and the engine spurts to life.

As she pulls off, Chevrolet jolting a little, you notice the bright yellow bumper sticker plastered squint beneath the license plate. You walk silently over to Joel, grass prickly under your socks.

“Honk If You Love…Cats,” you murmur, shoulder brushing off his bicep.

He sniffs. Tightens the grip his arms have on his chest. His eyes are fixed on the one red light, slowly shrinking into the distance. “Don’t even.”

“Good date?”

“I said don’t.”

“She talk much about her cats?”

“Goodnight.”

“Did you ask their names, at least?”

He’s backing up, crossing the dark lawn towards his front steps. He looks you up and down, his lips a flat line. Your sweat shorts. Your bare legs. The tight vest top molded around your breasts. His eyes shoot back up. “No more questions. No more pesterin’ me.”

“Nothin’ about the cats? Seriously, dude?” You lift your arms, grinning after his dark figure, swaggering up the porch steps.

Joel ignores you. He disappears through his front door and the light is snuffed. You slink back up to your house, grateful for the blanket of darkness covering the skip in your step.

Eleven hours later, you’re stood in front of your bedroom mirror.

The day melts against your window. Brilliant blue sky, cradling soft puffs of snow-white clouds. Crows on Diane’s roof cawing, slowly yellowing trees rustling. The bright, hot square across your front where the sun forces her way in.

You turn, taking the loose hem of your sleepshirt in your fingers, and pull it over your body, tossing it to the foot of the bed as you examine the pattern of colors hanging from inside your closet.

You take them one by one, tug them free, slot them back in. Eventually you settle for a gray hoodie, cropped and loose. As you haul it from its hanger, there’s a whine from the wooden cabinet. A squeal. The top shelf rips from either side, dropping to the closet floor and taking the pole with it.

“What the f–? You gotta be fucking kidding me,” you growl, stepping forward to run your fingers along the splintered wood where the nails have ripped themselves free. Four black holes, jagged insides of the closet pricking your fingertips.

The crumple of clothes and hangers sulks up at you pathetically. You fall back onto your bed with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling. The fan whirs slowly, scooping your gaze and throwing it in lazy circles.

The closet was old, anyways. Was here when you moved. It’s probably about time you had some new ones built. But fuck, that’s gonna cost. Ripping the old ones out, building them from scratch. The fan pulls your eyes back around to twelve o’clock.

Joel’s a contractor. He could do ‘em. Might give you a discounted rate, too, for all the times you move his newspaper from his front lawn to his doorstep for him. Either that, or he’d want something in return. And what handy skills do you have? You once knitted a scarf for you grandma for Christmas. Maybe not Joel’s thing. You can cook mac ‘n cheese – though one lousy meal isn’t payment enough for an entire wall of solid wood, two panes of glass and two days’ labor.

A favor, maybe. An IOU. What the fuck kinda favor does Joel Miller need–?

You’re hopping over the tiny burst of hedge between his yard and yours before the thought is finished, bending to scoop his newspaper up and slotting it under your arm. He answers just as you lift your fist to pound on his door for a second time.

You slap the rolled paper into his chest. “I have an idea.”

He squints at you in the summer light. “Wh–? Didn’t I tell you not to p–?”

“I’ll be your date.”

Joel blinks.

“I’ll be your date,” you repeat. “I got a wardrobe needs replacing. You do it, for free, and I’ll be your date.”

“Your wardrobe?”

“Crapped out on me this mornin’. I don’t want to pay for some stranger who’ll overcharge me ‘n do a half-assed job. Fix it, ‘n you don’t have to take cat lady Laura to Tommy’s wedding. And you can fix my kitchen sink, too.”

“I already fixed your kitchen sink.”

“It’s back at it. Drippin’ all through the damn night. Drip drip drip –”

“Alright.” Joel’s palm is up again. He does that a lot when he’s talking to you. “Alright. Wardrobe ‘n sink.”

“We have a deal?” you ask, extending your hand.

His chest fills with a thoughtful breath. His eyes scan you up and down, lingering somewhere a little lower than your jaw for a second. And then, the heavy weight of his palm against yours. The tightening of his fingers around your wrist. One sure shake.

Deal.

Two weeks before the wedding, you’re at Joel’s door again.

He’s in a black tee, dark sweatpants slung low on his hips. His hair is damp, fringe still dripping onto his forehead. He runs a hand through the gray-singed brown and stares at the tangle of fabric slung over your arm. “The hell is this?”

“Do you know what you’re wearin’?”

His eyes roll up to meet yours. “Do I know what I’m wearin’?”

You nod. “You’re the best man. Guessing Tommy has you covered?”

“Black suit,” he says, after a beat.

“That’s it? He ain’t got no theme?”

Joel’s head cocks. “I don’t do themes.”

You roll your eyes, ducking under his arm fixed against the doorpost. He manages three words of protest and then shuts the door in resignation, turning to watch as you take his stairs two at a time.

“You are so damn annoyin’, you know that?” his voice echoes behind you.

“You want this date or not, Miller?” you call over your shoulder, following the route through the identical house to your own bedroom – thankful when you nudge the door and it opens to reveal his bland, colorless decor. “Very…gray,” you note, feeling the shadow of him over your shoulder.

You throw the dresses down on his bed, satin and lace and pink and green swimming between one another on his sheets.

“I’m not wearin’ a dress.”

You glower at him. “Ha. We have to match.”

He rubs the towel against the back of his head, drying the dark hair. “Match how?”

“Y’know, your suit ‘n my dress. If I’m your date, we have to match.”

“Already told you. I’m wearin’ a black suit.”

“Right. But, like – what color tie? And can it be any of these colors?” You hold your hands out, surfing over the sea of shades. “Maybe,” you lift your eyebrows, eyes darting to the pale teal color, “this one?”

Joel entertains you for all of five seconds, lifting his cheeks in a false grin before they deflate. “No. Black.”

“Joel.”

He slings the towel over his folded arms, and looks at you plainly. “Black,” he says again, in a tone of voice which sounds something like a door being slammed shut.

Your eyes thin, and you gather your dresses up in one swipe. “Can you just –? Will you make sure that you match my corsage, at least?”

“Why the hell are you so hung up on this?”

“I’m not. I’m just tryna make it believable. You turned down cat lady Laura, this is what you get.”

He sighs, tossing the towel over to his laundry basket. “I will make sure I match your corsage. Happy?”

“Happy. Are you ready?”

“Give me five minutes.”

You huff, head rolling back. “You are so prima-donna, Joel Miller.”

With a sarcastic chuckle, he shoves you out of his bedroom to get dressed. You saunter down his stairs, drinking in every detail of his home as though it’s the only chance you’ll get to see it.

It probably is, when you think about it. You don’t imagine he’ll be inviting you over for drinks anytime soon.

Your eyes move along the wall as you slowly thump down his stairs, thrown from framed photo to framed photo – a black and white photo of a man with a tousle-haired boy on his lap, the kid’s tongue sticking from the corner of his mouth as he wraps his small hand around the neck of a guitar; an out-of-focus Christmas photo, a family of four sat in front of a million multicolored orbs dotted along the branches of a tree; a kid with skinned knees crouched by a German shepherd, his lanky arms hooked around the dog’s thick neck.

One brown suede jacket hangs from a coat peg at the bottom, Joel’s boots sat loose and unlaced beneath. A dark blue blanket draped over the back of his couch. A painting of a moose over his fireplace. Shelves lining one entire wall decorated with carved-wood animals, with more photographs of times gone and memories made, with books and DVDs that lend your fingertip with a heap of white dust as you drag it across their spines.

Enough to paint a picture, not quite enough to show you the colors. The tones, the depth. Despite your best efforts, the man remains a mystery. You settle with the fact he will never be fully revealed.

The creak of his stairs turns your attention from the guitar on the wall around to his tall figure, fixing the collar of the loose flannel over his shoulders.

“You ready?” Joel asks, bending with a groan to reach for his boots.

“Yep,” you reply, leaning forward to glance into his kitchen while his head’s down. The most you manage to observe are the light drapes, the sunlight shooting through and bouncing off of a white-topped island.

“’s go,” he says, keys dangling from his finger.

It takes twenty minutes to drive to Home Depot.

You chitter in Joel’s ear the entire time, reading from his handwritten list of measurements and supplies needed for your new closet. ‘n how do you know this is all enough? Because I know. What if you get started and it’s not? I won’t; it’s enough. You sound so sure. That’s ‘cause I’ve done it before, kid. You take many closetless girls out on fake wedding dates, Joel?

“What’s our story, then?” you ask in the store, fiddling with hanging packets of door hinges while Joel reads thrice over his note. Your hand dives into the bag of M&M’s he begrudgingly bought you at a gas station on the way.

“Our story?” he mumbles back, the words slipping under the mental math you can see going on behind his eyes.

“Like, when people ask how we met. What’s our meet-cute? Both reached for the same door hinge, our hands touched and lit aflame? That kinda thing?”

He doesn’t laugh. Your smile dampens instantly. You kick his boot. “Joel.”

“’sec,” he frowns, “I’m focusing.”

You lean close, pushing on your toes to study the folded slip. His scrawled numbers, the pencil lines blunt and smudged in the creases of the paper.

“Twentytwofortysixeightyninetyfivesixhundredelevenfourtwelvenineteen–”

Joel’s lips seep a maddened sigh; he glances down the aisle like a store attendant might separate you from him if he demanded with enough passion, or maybe if he slipped them a twenty.

“Do you mind?” he barks, his expression a brick wall for your giggles to fall flat to the floor against.

“Home Depot’s your stomping ground. Why the hell do I gotta come watch you pick hinges and timber?”

“Because it’s your damn closet I’m fittin’. Just –” he swipes two packets from their peg, tossing them into the shopping cart, “– come on.”

Joel makes off down the muck-colored floor, the overhead lights reflecting harshly in the shiny surface. The front right wheel of the cart trembles as it rolls, nervously leading the two of you down an aisle lined with cylinder tins and pamphlets on Choosing the right finish.

“So, are your parents gonna be at this wedding?” you ask, taking the cart from Joel’s hands when he drifts off to study a shelf of wood varnish.

His jaw turns towards you, and then back to the tin in his hand. “Yeah. Why?”

“Do I get to meet ‘em?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on. You’re not gonna introduce your date to your mom and dad?”

He scoffs, stealing a handful of candy. “My fake date?”

“They don’t know that. Let me meet Mr. and Mrs. Miller.”

He holds two tins up, offering them to you like answer to your question. “Matt or gloss? Guess it don’t really matter if I’m painting ‘em after.”

“Stop fuckin’ ignoring me. I hate when you do that.”

He leans in close, lowering the matt varnish into the cart. “You think I’m gonna introduce you ‘n your potty mouth to my mom?”

You smirk, eyes narrow. “Dick.”

“Funny. What color paint you want? You said something about duck egg?”

“Planning on repainting my room that color, yeah. Hey, you could –”

He swats your pointed finger away, taking the cart back. “We shook on new wardrobe. No changin’ the deal,” he mutters, wandering over to the rainbow of paint tins on the opposite side of the aisle.

You follow him over, eyes moving from blue over to green, the tins plastered with the fake smiles of families and fluffy pet dogs on the front. “Where are your mom and dad from?” you ask.

“Austin,” he replies, eyes squinting to read the small print on the back of one vibrant shade. You shake your head and guide his wrist back to the shelf, where he obediently sets the heavy tin back. “Never known anywhere else,” he adds. “What about you? Where’s Mr. and Mrs. Potty Mouth?”

“Uh,” you swipe at your nose awkwardly, “they’re up in Allandale. That’s where I grew up.”

“That so? I got a cousin who used to live that way. Used to take my bike up every Saturday. He lived right by this old car shop, all these old classics they used to fix up ‘n resell.”

“Yeah,” you say, “right next to the cemetery, right?”

“That’s the one,” Joel says, lifting paint tins to the light and setting them down again. “They live nearby?”

Your breathing shifts, starts to claw its way up your throat. Your chest heats, skin lighting with an irritating anxiety. “They’re, um,” you gulp, “they’re in the cemetery.”

Joel pauses, letting the tin slip from his grasp with an echoing thud against the wooden shelf which reverberates in your ears a second too long. “Oh,” he says, set on your expression.

“It’s okay – I don’t mind. It’s – it was a car accident, back when I was eight. I wasn’t in it, or anything. I grew up with my grandma. Really, Joel, I don’t mind,” you add, when his face falls and he begins to apologize.

“I had no idea,” he says, and you break the eye contact before you break a fucking sweat.

“’s all good,” you murmur, lifting paint tins of your own now, focusing on deblurring your glossy vision, “I got to buy a big house with the money they left.”

It thaws him a little. He snorts, and taps the lid of the tin you’re holding. “That one’s nice. You, uh – you okay?”

You finally turn back, the world clearer, colors no longer bleeding into one another through sharp tears. “Yeah. I’m fine. We got everything?”

Joel nods, and wheels the cart around. “You can meet her, if you want. My mom. She’s a little full on, but I reckon you can handle her.”

You smile, following him down the aisle.

A month after he delivered your underwear back to you, you’re back on Joel’s doorstep.

Your hand flicks nervously at your side as you wait for him to answer, petals of your corsage quivering. The clip of his footsteps echoes down the stairs, a deep sound growing louder and louder until the door clinks open and you’re separated only by air.

Joel’s eyes scan down your body at the same time yours scan down his. Black suit, sure enough, just without the jacket, and with his tie slung around his loose collar. You both freeze when your eyes meet again, your lips silently forming the shape of an avalanche of words that refuse to sound until Joel’s do.

“Wow, you –”

“– look great, I –”

“– nice dress, is that –? Sorry –”

“– no, I’m sorry, you were – sorry.” A laugh pushes from your throat. “You look – you look good. Scrub up well, ‘n all that.”

“You too. You – Yeah. That’s a nice color, after all. You suit it.” His eyes linger on your chest, your breasts draped in lustrous silk, decorated with the glint of golden jewelry. You notice.

“Thanks. After all?” You snort, and Joel’s exterior seems to crack a little.

He steps back, ushering you in. “Alright,” he says, taking the tote with your change of clothes from your wrist. He watches across the street as you step over the threshold, his fingertips light on your back as you pass by, like little shocks of lightning up your spine. “You know what I meant.”

Your dress swishes around your ankles, your heels clicking along his varnished floor. Your arms lock around your torso, holding your pashmina in place while Joel totters around, tossing his jacket over his shoulders. His shirt stretches from his tight waistband, fabric flattening against his tummy. Your eyes shoot north again when he speaks.

“You mind doin’ my tie? It’ll end up squint if I do.”

“Sure,” you reply, stepping forward.

He buttons the top of his shirt and lifts his chin, staring at the wall behind you as you tug on the black fabric, the silk slipping through your fingers. You steal glances at the trim of his beard, his pink lips beneath the dark bristles; the slope of his nose, the lines on his worn skin.

He’s rough around the edges, sure, a man in his late forties. But there’s something soft about him, something familiar and…comfortable. The pages of a used sketchbook, the lived-in material of a favorite dress.

You pull the knot higher until it’s sitting in the notch below his Adam’s apple, smoothing it down and giving his chest a light pat before stepping back again.

“Thanks, darlin’,” he mumbles, and a spark lights in your chest. “Oh,” he says, holding a finger up and disappearing into the kitchen. He returns with a little white box, holding it out for you to see.

Your cheeks swell, eyes flitting up to acknowledge the proud look on his face. “Very nice. Good job.”

“You can do the honors,” Joel says, handing you the boutonniere by the stem.

You pin it through his lapel, straightening it with a focused glance. Joel’s eyes are on you, watching the flutter of your eyelashes, the tilt of your head. “There,” you whisper, leaning back.

He extends his elbow, something of a smile on his lips. You don’t see it often. It beckons a mirrored expression.

Arm in arm, Joel leads you out to the truck, where he helps you up and waits for you to scoop your dress into the footwell before closing the door. You watch patiently as he locks the front door, slings both your bags over his shoulder and jogs back to the truck, tossing them in the backseat before joining you in the front.

“How come he didn’t send a limousine? Or a Jag, or somethin’?”

“You think we’re made a’ money?” Joel asks, smirking.

You return the smile, wrapping your shawl over your body. “Can I pick the music?” you ask, earnestly, a tinge of sweetness to your voice.

Joel glances over again, reaches behind your headrest to reverse out of the drive. He runs his tongue along his top teeth. “No,” he says.

Three hours later, Tommy and Maria are married.

The wedding is…big. Joel’s family is big. The venue – a rustic hotel suite, fairy lights draped from the rafters, blooming flowers sprouting from crystal vases, lace tablecloths and tied chair cushions and wax dripping from thick, naked candles – is big.

Joel’s been good about it – that friendly neighbor you see all too little has been kicked into high gear. He delivered you by hand straight to his mom – a small woman with silver hair neatly twisted into an updo at the back of her head – who took your hand and held it tightly all the way to your seats.

Kind and warm, she asked where you were from, how you met Joel, how long you’d been dating. She offered you some tissues before the ceremony started, then winked and nodded in Joel’s direction as the bridesmaids swept down the aisle.

You lingered behind the photographer while he took photos of the wedding party, instructing them to shuffle a little closer, that’s it; ma’am, with the red hair, lower your bouquet a little; alright, now, everyone: big smiles!

You worried that Joel had kept the same placated smile frozen on his face for so long that it might never melt away, might never return to the stoic scowl you’re so used to seeing on him. You didn’t even realize you were staring at him, until he waved you down, flicked his hand, and beckoned you over to the group.

You hesitated. I don’t know if I –

Get over here, girl, Tommy had called, grinning alongside his big brother.

The two Millers slotted you in like a jigsaw piece between their bodies, two arms wrapped around your back – Tommy’s, loose on your shoulders, and Joel’s, tight around your waist. He held you close, squeezing you into his side while the photographer praised the party and snapped photo after photo, the flash burning into your eyes by the time he clapped his hands and thanked you all for your patience.

Drink? Joel had asked, and you’d responded with one thumb up, the other massaging your eyelids. He squeezed your shoulder and disappeared into the crowd of bodies.

He’s still over there – by the bar, a wooden structure draped in ivy and studded by steel bolts. His beer in one hand and your wine in the other. A lean, poised figure stood opposite him – her dress a royal purple, her hair a wave of brown spilling over her bare shoulders.

She’s beautiful – a striking charm which draws your eye to her like an arrow directly through the sea of bodies between here and there. Her languid movements, the slow roll of her neck to sweep the hair from one side of her body to the other.

Her head falls back in laugher, her bejeweled hand falls softly on his arm. Your throat closes sharply. Joel nods, angling as if to make off, but she holds onto him and leans in. He laughs, then, at whatever her full lips whisper into his ear, and he finally breaks off from her and returns to you.

He pushes the glass by its base across the smooth tablecloth. Your fingers brush over one another as you trade, the stem sitting between your index and middle. He’s warm, his knuckles kissing yours.

“How was it, then, talkin’ to my mom?” Joel asks.

You smile, propping your chin on the heel of your palm. “I like her. She’s funny.” And then, when he tosses his head in response, “Who were you talkin’ to?”

Joel follows your eyeline over to the woman in the purple dress. The glint of white crystal on her neck. The drama of dark hair on pale skin. “Uh,” he wanders around your back to his chair, “we used to work together.”

Your nails tap against the glass. “Oh, yeah?”

He sniffs. Doesn’t meet your eye. “Yep.”

“You were talking to her for a long time.”

He watches a blue orb dance over your head on the wall, a spot of light from the disco ball over the dancefloor. “Lotta memories.”

“Why won’t you look at me?”

His eyes plummet. Fall from the string bulbs straight to your face, sparkling in the rainbow lights. “You want me to look at you? There.”

You grin. “’s better. If you stare up there long enough, they might stick.”

“Safer to have ‘em stuck on you, is it?”

“Mhm,” your voice echoes around the curve of your wine glass, “better view. So, who is she?”

Joel shifts uncomfortably. He twirls the bottle in his fingers. “We…we were together for some time. A few years.”

“An ex,” you muse, stain of lipstick left on the rim of your glass. “How many years?”

“Eight.”

You almost choke on your drink. “Eight – eight years?”

Joel nods, waiting for you to catch your breath. Expression never changing. Bottle still twirling. “Haven’t seen her in a while. We were just catchin’ up.”

“Eight fucking years. Why the fuck aren’t you married?”

He scoffs. “That’s a fifth-date question.” He lifts the bottle to his lips, tongue pushes against the glass.

“I don’t need five fuckin’ wardrobes,” you quip, and he laughs. Like, genuinely laughs. His head tips back, his teeth show. Your chest swells, confidence and relief blooming there. She didn’t make him laugh like that – not from where you were watching.

It becomes something of a mission in the back of your mind – tallying up how many times you can make his chest shudder, his shoulders jerk. How many times he leans in closer and repeats whatever you said, eyes closing over and hand hitting his thigh. How many times he looks at you and your stomach flutters, the blood cartwheels through your veins, the bones of your ribcage readjust and make room for the swelling of your heart.

Within four rounds, you’ve lost count.

The thudding beat of the music muffles in your drunken ears, like it’s coming from the next room. Your gaze fixes on the vase in the center of the table, the bouquet spilling over the glass. The wide burst of speckled lilies, the humble blush of tulips between. The colors soften and blur the longer you stare at them.

The jerk of Joel’s shoulders stirs you from your daydream. That’s one more.

“What?” you ask, head rolling to look over to him.

“You still in there?” he asks, one word slurring into the next like waves lapping.

You scoff, looking back to the pink flowers. “You know who has tulips?” you ask him.

He lifts his eyebrows. Who?

“Alice.”

“Brown?”

Your head nods heavily. “One time, she was out getting her mail, and I had just pulled up in my car on the phone to my best friend – he’d just broken up with his girlfriend, it was a whole thing…” You bat your hand. “Anyway. She pretended to tend to her tulips for forty-five minutes while I sat talkin’ to him in the driveway.”

Joel’s head tilts back with a burst of laughter. “She hear every word?”

“Every – damn – word. Stood by the fence listenin’.”

“That woman is som’ else,” Joel says, shaking his head. He stares down at the bottle between his fingers. His thumbs play with the curled corner of the label. “Didn’t I warn you about her?”

“Mhm.” You smile, realizing he has the same memory that you do, locked up somewhere in his mind. The sweat running down his temple, the dark patch between his shoulder blades. His hands gripping the heavier boxes, leaving you to carry the linen, the base of a lamp. Nodding as he wandered back over to his own porch, calling back for you to Holler if you need anythin’.

The high squeal of the Sweet Child O’ Mine intro snaps you back to the wedding reception. Tommy and Maria are playing air guitar on the dancefloor over Joel’s shoulder. You unstick your gaze from his white shirt, unsure how long you’ve been fucking staring.

Joel sits forward, drags his chair across the polished floor closer to you. He fixes the strap on your dress, untwisting it before settling back again. Your eyes follow his fingers as they leave your shoulder and sit back on the curve of his thigh, lifting when his voice breaks through to your eardrums.

“What room number did you say you were, again?”

Your shoulders roll. “Thirty-four, I think.”

Joel nods. Points to himself. “Thirty-six.” And then he glances over his shoulder, watches as Tommy kneels before Maria and rocks his head, his messy mop of hair tossed across his shoulders. The older Miller brother turns back. “Think they’ll miss us if we call it a night?”

“We’re callin’ it a night?”

“Figure if I’m headin’ off then you won’t wanna be sat here by yourself,” Joel says, and he’s right. He stands up, sets the half-empty bottle on the tablecloth and stares down at you. “I’m callin’ it a night,” he tells you. “You comin’?”

The colors in the room spin like the reels of a slot machine. Your fingers sit lightly in his outstretched palm, and you pull yourself up alongside him.

“’s a good girl,” he mutters, looking over your shoulder to the doorway, and your eyes sober up long enough to catch the flicker in his eye.

You totter along the hallway, arm in arm, anchoring yourselves together. Whichever way one sways, the other inevitably follows. You’re laughing, and Joel’s hushing you, warning that there are folks tryna – tryna sleep, we’re in a fancy place, hey, da-rlin’, no – you gotta shhhut up.

“Great party,” you decide, finally docking against your door.

“Yeah,” Joel agrees, leaning a little on the wall. The gentle glow of the hallway lights him perfectly; the strong angle of his jaw, the curve of his cheekbones. The hazel pools that make up his irises, the swollen circles of black in the middle. And the twinkle in them, like the moon reflecting on dark water, every time his gaze lifts to you.

He’s different tonight. Maybe it’s the alcohol. The way it colors everything in a peachy film, all objects softened and rosy and shapeless. But he feels different, too. You suddenly realize, shoulder pressed hard against the cold doorframe, that you’ve never touched one another more than you have today. His elbow in yours, his arm around your waist, his hand through yours as you danced together.

“Are you tired?” you ask, head rolling.

“Tired? No. Drunk, yeah. Not tired.” He laughs again. It’s infectious.

“You wanna come inside?” you ask, words leaping from your giggle.

He takes ten seconds to consider it. Slumps into the wall, steadied only by his forearm pushing him back upright. His watch face catches the light behind him.

“Yeah. Fuck yeah, I do.”

Your hand fumbles in your clutch for the keycard, swiping the handle and pushing down heavily. You spill into the dark room, light sneaking in from the sconce outside your window, and spin back to face him, his hand locked tight with yours.

Joel follows you slowly as you back towards the bed, kicking your heels off and tripping over the skirt of your dress. When your legs hit the plush mattress, his body leans into yours. Your lips ghost across his, your words pushing them apart one by one.

“This ain’t – part of the – agreement,” you murmur, the coarse hair of his beard scratching your chin. You pull apart his tie, loosening the knot.

“Changed my mind,” he replies, collapsing on top of you on the bed.

Your head rolls back when his lips suck into your neck. You wrestle with his belt, with the waist of his suit trousers. “No changin’ the deal, remember?”

“Tell me to stop.”

If you had any intention of answering him, your body overrides it. Words lassoed and dragged back down where they came from, your throat opening only to gasp when Joel’s teeth graze the flesh of your breast. His fingers tug on the straps of your dress, letting them fall from your shoulders until your chest sits exposed.

He drags his tongue along your skin, dipping between your tits while his hands massage them, fingers pinching your nipples. Your back lifts and his hands move beneath, following the curve of your spine to where your dress pools loose around your waist. He pushes down, slinking the smooth fabric from your body.

“You fuckin’…” He clicks his teeth, laughing behind them. Another flush of heat washes over your skin.

You giggle, bending your knees to cover the lace panties he knows all too fucking well. Joel stops you, pushes your legs back down with two heavy hands.

“Don’t get shy now, baby,” he murmurs, opening your body up again. “You were so happy about me seein’ ‘em a few weeks ago, no?”

“’s different,” you reply, tang of alcohol fueling your words, “now I just want you to take them off me.”

He cocks his head, drinking every word you’re handing over like it’s water from an oasis. “Such a dirty girl, ain’t you?”

You pull him closer by the collar and line your mouth against his, the tip of your tongue wetting the inside of his lips. “You got no fucking idea,” you whisper, whipping the shirt from his torso.

Joel growls, flipping you over and pulling you by the shoulders flush against his chest. You hook an arm around his neck, turn to grant him access to your lips. He kisses you like a starved animal, savoring every taste, teeth nipping at your tingling lips.

His hand curves around your hips, pushing beneath your underwear to cup your mound, middle finger pushing on the spongey hood of your clit. Your head falls limp against his collarbone, back arching as Joel holds you steady with an arm around your waist.

“’s alright, baby,” he coos, his tongue licking the shell of your ear. “I’m gonna take good care of ya. Gonna give you what you need, alright?”

A strangled moan unravels across your tongue, echoing into Joel’s mouth. Your hips begin to gyrate, meeting the rhythm of his hand, his finger massaging rough circles into your clit. He smirks, peeling the panties down your thighs.

“Attagirl,” he breathes, “you want it bad, huh? Gettin’ so worked up so fast. Here.”

He removes his hand from between your legs, ignoring your moan of protest and replacing it with two fingers on your bottom lip. “Open,” he instructs, and you obey like a fucking dog. He slips them in, thick and heavy, and waits for you to coat them with your wine-stained tongue.

Joel pushes down, forcing a muffled gag from your throat which lifts the corners of his mouth. He shakes his head lightly, whispering, “You got it, ‘s okay.”

A thread of saliva strings between his fingers and your lips when he lowers his hand again, trailing his fingers through your folds until he’s dancing along the seam of your cunt. You jolt forward; Joel hauls you back.

“Just fucking – do it,” you whimper, your walls clenching around nothing.

He holds his fingers together, curling and inserting them in a painfully slow motion. Your knees widen on the mattress, body sinking down by instinct to meet his fist, to feel his thick fingers and wide knuckles as deep as they’ll go.

You gasp when Joel begins hooking them inside you, nudging against your walls like your heartbeat against your clit. Your hand lowers, slipping beneath his loose waistband, beneath the elastic of his boxers and around his already solid cock.

Joel groans, fucking you harder on his hand. “Fuck, just like that, baby. You feel what you do to me?”

“Uhuh,” you reply, voice wanton and broken.

You squeeze him, your fist moving up and down, his warm skin following the movements of your tight grip. His tip is already soaked, precome staining his underwear, dribbling down your thumb.

Joel uses his free hand to shove his pants down, crumpling on the floor at his feet when they free his cock. You carve your mouth around his, the two of you exchanging breath and flicking your tongues together as you fuck one another’s hands, the room slowly filling with the hot, muggy smell of sex.

Joel’s the first to cave. With a jerk of his hips, he takes you by the wrist and frees himself from your clutches.

“You’re gonna make me come, darlin’,” he murmurs, pulling his fingers from your cunt.

“That’s kinda the point here,” you reply, teeth bumping into his in a grin.

Joel shakes his head, lifting his hand, glistening with your arousal. “Gotta feel this fucking pussy first.”

You smile, parting your lips for him for the second time, suckling on his fingers and licking them clean of your own salty slick. His cock draws sticky trails on the seam of your thigh.

“Yeah,” Joel breathes, eyes fixed on the place where you close around him, “that good, baby? You gonna let me taste you?”

You release his fingers and he pulls you in, tongue slipping against yours with a groan which vibrates against your jaw. When your lips part, you hold your mouth open, your tongue sat on your bottom lip.

Joel reacts instantly, collecting a bead of saliva in front of his teeth and letting it drop into your mouth. You moan and swallow it, a cocktail of beer and whiskey and slick. Joel watches as you lick your lips, the stained-pink coated in a thick, white shine.

“Alright,” he says, letting you fall forward onto the bed. He jacks himself a few times, spitting into his hand and using it to coat his cock.

“Want you to come in it,” you whine, wiggling your ass for him as he lines up at your slit. You can feel the arousal gathered on his tip, dripping down your cunt.

“Yeah, baby,” Joel growls, a smirk on his lips as he watches himself slowly disappear inside you. And then –

You both fall silent, mouths hanging wide open as you each feel the width of his cock and the tightness of your cunt. The way your body opens up to accommodate his size, the direct pain and ethereal pleasure of Joel pushing into you.

“Fuck,” he groans, your pussy drawing him in with a sweet, wet sound. “Been thinkin’ about this all fuckin’ day, baby. So damn gorgeous in that dress.”

You slowly move your hips back to meet him at the base of his cock; dark, trimmed hair bristling against your lips. Joel’s hands lock around your waist, holding you steady with his entirety buried inside, letting you adjust to him.

He’s so fucking big, so wide and deep that your breath tears rugged from your lungs, barreling up your windpipe. Your walls squeeze tight as he pulls out like your body refuses to let him go, like your cells understand better than you do that you were made for this – made for him. Like the only place in the world that he belongs, is somewhere deep inside you.

So big that it hurts, each time he fills you up and stretches you wide open. The pain an eye-rolling, lung-closing, limb-shaking sensation.

Your elbows give, falling chest-first onto the mattress while Joel fucks you hard, his hands gripping your hips. Your cheek and breasts flat against the sheets, your back arched. He slams into you, edging you closer and closer with each meeting of his warm skin against yours, each sopping slap of come and saliva.

The mattress shifts above your head, two valleys where his palms push down heavily, then the weight of his body at the back of your thighs. He towers over you, hips hammering so hard that you’re forced to hook your fingers around his wrists just to stay on the same fucking planet.

“Gonna – fuckin’ – come – baby,” he spits, his jaw locked tight. “You want it in this little pussy? You think she can take it all?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, the edges of your words rounded by the silk sheets. “Joel, I – fuck –”

“Yeah, she can,” he agrees, playing with the hair spilling across your shoulders and taking it in a fistful.

The hazy drunken blur begins to turn over in favor of something sharper, something electric pulsing through your veins. Every part of your body alive, everything rising to meet the same high, the same release. You cling onto him, body beginning to melt beneath his.

Joel’s lips press between your shoulder blades. “Don’t fight it, baby, let go. I got you.”

You moan his name in one last pathetic attempt before the world whitens. You clench around him as a deafening orgasm shocks through your body, curling your back and forcing your nails deep into Joel’s wrists.

“Fuck, baby, fuck me,” Joel gasps. He slams into you one final time before you feel the staggered pump of his come flooding between your walls. “Ahh,” he groans, pushing apart your ass cheeks to watch the trickle seep from your cunt. “Good fucking girl. Take it, baby. That’s my girl.”

He turns you over onto your back and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him against your body as he thrusts into you again, tenderly pushing his spend deeper inside. It draws a strained moan from your throat.

“’s alright,” he coos, hips slowing against yours, “just feel it, baby. You feel how deep I am?”

“Uhuh,” you cry, nails digging into his skin, damp with sweat.

“So fuckin’ full of me,” he says, more to himself, before collapsing alongside you, holding your thigh on his hip, his tip still sheathed inside you.

You lie like that for a while, listening to the distant hum of music from downstairs, the party still raving in the belly of the hotel while you two lay in content bliss somewhere in its ribcage. Tracing one another’s features, learning the lines on Joel’s face, the flecks of gray in his eyebrows – all the parts you’re never close nor brave enough to get to know.

His right hand massages your plush waist, his left arm a pillow to rest your heavy, dizzy, drunk head on.

“I wanna do it again,” you whisper, the words sneaking out between heavy breaths.

Joel nods. His bottom lip sticks with sweat to yours. His hips push a little neater into you. “I wanna do it again, too.”

“I wanna do it all night.”

He hasn’t stopped nodding. He shrugs, tightens his grip around your shoulders, and tilts his head. “Then let’s do it all fucking night,” he says, and his lips slam back into yours.

The morning after the wedding, Joel drives you home. The truck soars down the highway, the two of you an uncomfortable distance apart. The same sobering distance you’ve kept all morning – the unreal aftermath of sex.

The rolling waves of bedsheets between your bodies; the sun sifting her long fingers through his hair as she peered through the curtains. The way you’d silently pushed yourself from the mattress, fragmenting your movements and allowing the spring to dip a fraction at a time so not to wake him. The spongey feel of the hotel carpet under the balls of your feet as you’d tottered to the bathroom. The sharp shot of the lock sliding into place, echoing like a bullet.

He waited until you finished showering to get ready himself. Sat on the edge of the bed patiently and watched your shadow beneath the door, the to-and-fro of your silhouette breaking the sliver of golden light as you dressed your sticky body. When you pulled on the metal lock again, he was sat on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees, pinching the bridge of his nose. His bare shoulders were curved, and tanned. You blinked twice to store the image and turned away as he stood.

He says he feels hungover. You say you do, too. It’s the closest you come to talking about it. You hop out of the truck in his drive, your tote bag hooked on your shoulder. The canvas gnawing at the silk inside. Joel tells you he’ll see his end of the deal through in a couple weeks.

“Real busy with work,” he mutters apologetically, his wrists still balancing on the steering wheel.

“That’s good,” you tell him, nodding. “I ain’t in any rush. I know where you live, so.”

A relieved laugh pushes from his lips. “I will get to it,” he assures you.

You shrug casually. “Whenever, Joel.”

You don’t talk for a few days. A few days bleeds into three weeks. You find yourself stood by his front tires, throwing his newspaper onto the porch and scampering when it lands. The noise like a bomb dropping.

Slowly, as the month draws on, you become braver and braver – daring closer and closer to his front door, until you’re back to marching up the steps like you own the place, depositing the roll on his doormat. Rubbing your thumbs against your fingers to feel the ink like satin.

The door cracks open as you make your way back down his steps one bright morning.

“Hey, kid,” Joel murmurs, reaching down for the paper with a groan.

“Hey.”

“You doin’ okay?” he asks, leaning his forearm against the door.

Your head tilts back and forth, your hand lifting to shield your eyes from the sun. “Think I ate som’ bad, maybe. Weird stomach this mornin’.”

Joel’s chin angles. “Hope it ain’t contagious. Was thinkin’ I could get that closet started for you, maybe tomorrow?”

The offer takes you off guard. You buffer for a few seconds before answering, “Sure. Sure, just, uh – just come over whenever, I guess.”

“Nine work for you?”

You nod. “Nine’s good. See ya then.”

It’s something like nine when you find out.

You wake feeling groggy. Tired, sluggish. A heavy ache pulling on your breasts as you rise from bed, tender and swollen. You stand in the bathroom, milky morning light filtering in through the doorway, and your stomach lurches. Waves of nausea deep in your belly, rocking back and forth, swirling and spiraling.

You’ve a box under your sink. It makes sense. Before Joel was some date from Hinge, who fucked you against the wall of his living room and who snored so loud that you left before the sun came up. Negative. Like always.

But it never hurts to be sure.

The pack tears like it’s liquid in your hands. Peels back to reveal the plastic white test, the bubblegum pink cap – like it’s something fun and sweet to place the direction of your future into this little device. A clinical compass needle.

Three to five minutes. You set it down on the counter and drag yourself back through to your room, lifting your bedsheets, tucking them under the mattress, heaving your pillows back into place against the headboard. An uncomfortable heat boiling under the surface of your skin, a prickle of sweat clinging to the nape of your neck.

A sickly taste harboring on your tongue, you pad back to the bathroom and swipe the test up. Your eyes scan past the result window to the counter as you reach for your toothbrush – and then snap abruptly back to the tiny oval. Your outstretched hand freezes in midair. There’s no fucking w–

Your arm swings back to reach for the light cord. The bulb hesitates – flickers, like it’s unsure whether to reveal the truth to you. It knows something you don’t. It’s seen something it doesn’t want to show you. You stare at the pregnancy test.

Two little pink lines stare back. And Joel knocks at your door.

#forgive me for it not being clm or sof #they're coming very soon i promise #this was too fun an idea not to chase #i have the attention span of my labrador retrievers (nil) #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #the last of us #tlou #macfrog #neighbor!joel miller #neighbor!joel #babydaddy!joel miller

[obliviouscxnt]

His Shadow Azriel x Reader

a/n: quick little idea/drabble i had (that could honestly get turned into another series) idk if this has been done before, if it has let me know please, I'll probably delete this. I hope you enjoy :)) <333

synopsis: azriel takes you for granted

Warnings: angst

pt.2

He thought it was poetic, the way the shadows disappeared around Mor. She brightened up his life, literally.  

Never did he think he’d find someone else capable of doing such a thing. Until he met Elaine. 

The change was gradual, so gradual he hadn’t even noticed. 

They stayed with him, at first, treating the once-human girl like any other person. But then she was turned fae, and Azriel’s visits with her began. With each visit, less, and less, shadows joined him. 

He was completely unaware, she stole his focus. 

He felt protective of her, like a precious flower he had to keep from wilting. That protectiveness slowly became something more, a yearning. Even more so when Cassian discovered he was mated to the eldest Acheron.

Though the night Elaine kissed him, everything changed.

They’d sat outside, in her garden, and even though the sky was already dark they’d stayed. Getting lost in conversation. She told him about things she cared about, and he listened. She asked him about himself, and he answered.

 At some point she ended up in front of him, gazing up at his lips. 

She looked so beautiful, illuminated by the stars, surrounded by her lovely garden. A sight he felt lucky to witness. 

When she leaned forward he couldn’t stop himself. He met her halfway, so softly, so gently. But as soon as his lips touched hers, all those feelings for her died. He felt nothing.

The switch in emotions almost gave him whiplash. It was dizzying. 

Underwhelming didn’t feel like the best word for it, but it was the only thing he could come up with. Nothing was exciting about the kiss, nothing revolutionary. It wasn’t like it felt wrong, but it didn’t feel right either. 

Disappointment was what Azriel felt. A little part of him was hoping that maybe the Acheron sister would be his mate. 

It seemed fitting, right? Three brothers, three sisters. But now that her lips were against his, he knew it wasn’t right.  

The spymaster pulls back, taking a step away. Looking at the beautiful woman. Any feelings beyond protectiveness had vanished from his body. Not even a tickle of butterflies when she smiled at him, so obviously delighted with the kiss they shared.

It wasn’t her fault, any male would be lucky to have Elaine. But it was clear to him, that male couldn’t be him.

“It’s getting late, we should head in.” Her face drops at his words, he doesn’t even look at her as he begins leading her inside and back to her room.  

He should say more, apologize, and tell her how he feels so she at least has a reason. Not just silence. But his brain was still reeling from the drastic change in emotions—or lack thereof. No words leave his mouth.

He walks Elaine up to her room. Bidding her a short goodnight before leaving the frowning woman to her own devices.

He kicked himself for hurting her, for allowing it to get that far. Elaine was just so tempting, and he was so hopeful. He kicked himself for that too. 

Of course he wouldn’t have a mate. 

He couldn't even give the poor woman an apology.

It wasn’t until he made it to his room, all the way up in the House of Wind, that he realized no shadows were with him. Not even a whisper reached his ears.  

They’d been with him as long as he could remember, and now they were just gone. 

He couldn’t place the feeling they left in their absence. But he knew he didn’t like it. 

*****

You knew it was unfair of you to be jealous. He didn’t know how deep your devotion ran.  He didn’t see life the way you had, you didn’t even think he saw you as anything other than a servant. 

It wasn’t unfair of you to feel sad about that. 

You’re nothing but shadows to him. When he’s always been everything to you. From the moment he first called to you, when you were barely a flicker of darkness.

But he would never see that. 

Azriel is sound asleep when you slip through the cracks of his door and into his room. 

He hadn’t even called to you. Did he even care you were gone? 

You find yourself taking form, a form of something he could relate to. A beautiful woman, someone like Elaine, or Mor. But you knew you looked nothing like them. Your darkness couldn't captivate beauty like that. Bold and enchanting, like the Morrigan. Pure and innocent, like Miss Elaine.

A sigh leaves your mouth as you curl up in your designated corner, looking at the hands that felt alien to you. Even if you showed him this form, saw him face to face, would he see you any differently?

You doubt it. You’d always be shadows to him.

You were so busy wallowing to yourself in the corner you didn’t see the shadowsinger stir at your sigh. Didn’t see him blink awake, or sit up and look around. 

But you felt it when his eyes settled on you for what felt like the first time. Heard the gasp that left his mouth. 

Your heart stops, frozen in fear for half a second, before it starts again, and you collapse into clouds of darkness.

*****

It was the middle of the night when Azriel woke Rhys up, shouting at him from outside his mental barriers. The worry in his voice was what had the High Lord jumping out of his mate's arms, waking Cassian, and heading to the abode carved into the top of the mountain. 

Azriel paces around the office room, running a hand through his hair. If he wasn’t so stressed he would’ve noticed that his shadows don’t try to comfort him like usual.

“What’s going on?” Rhys asks as he and Cassian walk into the room. Both are in different states of undress with looks of concern on each of their faces.

Cassian immediately notes Azriel’s distressed state, a rare sight considering the spymaster had long ago mastered staying calm and stoic in the face of trouble.

Cassian almost doesn't want to know what has the male so bothered.

“There was something in my room.” 

“What?!” The reactions are simultaneous. Any sign of sleep was immediately gone from both of their faces.

“I think it was a woman… I don’t know I didn’t get a good enough look. It disappeared right after I woke up.”  His fingers grip his hair. Heart still beating fast from the interaction. No one has ever snuck up on him like that. 

He's usually the one doing the sneaking.

His shadows, which had returned sometime after he’d fallen asleep, hadn’t even noticed the stranger, if they had they certainly didn’t warn him. He tries not to feel the nerves that fact struck in him.

“What do you mean, ‘disappeared’?” Cassian asks.

“Exactly what it sounds like, Cass. One second it was sitting in the corner of my room, the next it was gone.” Which made absolutely no sense, the wards surrounding House of Wind forbid winnowing of any kind. 

This was obviously a serious issue, the wards could either be faulty or someone could have found a way around them. 

“Are you sure you it wasn’t just a vivid dream?” Cassian asks, just trying to come with any better explanation.

“Was your encounter with Bryaxis just a vivid dream?” Azriel snaps. There was no way he imagined it. No way.

Rhys diffuses, stepping in with hands raised in surrender. Silently telling Azriel that they were on his side. “What did it look like when it disappeared? Did it look like it was winnowing?” 

The spymaster thinks about it. No. No, it didn’t. 

It was like its body blended with the darkness. Became the darkness. Almost like… Azriel’s eyes widen.

A shadow. 

“What? What is it, Az?” Rhys asks, probably noticing the revelation he was having from the look on his face. 

The shadowsinger's face becomes neutral, as calm as a person with his features was capable of looking. He shakes his head. “Maybe it was nothing. Sorry for waking you guys up. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Then he left without another word.

Rhys and Cassian share a look. A mix of bewilderment, concern, and exhaustion filled their features.

Azriel waits till he reaches his room to say anything, making sure to close the door behind him before a single word can leave his mouth. “Are you jealous? Is that it? Is that why you always leave around Elaine and Mor? Why you thought it would be fun to scare me and my family? Because I don't give you enough attention?” 

His shadows scatter, detaching from his body, hiding under his bed and in the darker nooks of his room. 

“Don’t hide now. I know it was you, that’s why you didn’t warn me.” He gazes into the dark corners of his room, glaring. How could they keep something like this from him? Hide the fact that they could take form? “Show yourself.”

There was an eerie pause, Azriel’s heart began beating faster. Then the fae lights started to flicker.

With each flash more and more shadows gathered before him. Building on each other. The lights went out completely.

When he turned them back on you stood before him.

The most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.

Pure darkness rose from your body, looking like black smoke. It encapsulates you, different from the way it encapsulates him. The darkness wasn't an extension of your body, it was a part of you, was you, moved with you like it was just another limb.

“My intention was not to scare.” You spoke in a whisper he’d heard many times. A whisper that was most loyal to him. That fulfilled his every beck and call.

Azriel was at a loss for words. You were stunning, a word he'd not known the true meaning of until he laid eyes on you.

“For years, centuries, I’ve followed you. I chose you as my singer. I answered your call.” Tears fill your eyes, but when they fall they dissipate into smoke. Blowing away with a wave of your hand. “I have shown you nothing but loyalty, and care. I’ve sat back while watching you love others and I’ve made peace with it, I’ve accepted our differences.” You suck in a deep breath and steady yourself. “But when I leave, you don’t care, don't even notice.” Your lips tremble, voice breaking as you ask him a question he couldn’t even think to answer. “After everything I’ve done, how can I mean so little to you?” 

Azriel’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. He has so much to say but his vocal cords are tied. He did care, though it was clear he hadn’t shown it enough. He found himself thinking about all the little times the shadows had been there for him, comforting him, caring for him. And now he could put a face to those moments, it wasn’t just shadows, it was you that’d been there for him over the years.  

“So yes, I was sad and mad, and maybe a little jealous... But I wasn’t trying to scare you. I was just- I don’t know! Imagining? Yearning for a life I can’t have?” 

 The fae lights began blinking again making his heart jump with every flicker. He doesn't want you to disappear yet. He opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it. 

“You don’t have to say anything, I don’t want an apology.” You lift a shadowy hand, wiping your face and steeling yourself. “Don’t fret, shadowsinger, I’m still your faithful servant. I couldn’t refuse your calls even if I wanted to. And I’m okay with that, it’s what I chose. Just don’t expect me to be there for you in moments where you can't even acknowledge my existence.” 

The lights flicker again and you're gone. 

Leaving Azriel to wonder if he’s lost you. Although, he never really had you in the first place.

next->

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #azriel x shadow!reader