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#but also probably scared my neighbors
asthecrowtries · 4 months
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Here’s to another year of Arthur trying to survive the horrors.
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derpinette · 2 years
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so straight edge i refuse carbonated drinks
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endlessfuckup · 3 months
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welp thats not how i thought my day was gonna go haha fuuuuck im tired
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butchdykekondraki · 7 months
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not enough people talk about the fact jesus just straight up blinded people when he was a kid. that guy was like six years old and accidentally cursing people with blindness because they made him upset . and he was so real for that tbh
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lunarcigar · 10 months
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Hit the pen. Went nonverbal.
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zillychu · 4 months
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I’ve gotten a WAVE of asks about this AU, so I decided to flesh it out some more and answer some of those questions!
I’ll probably polish this extended summary up at some point and submit it to AO3. But for now, here’s a rundown of my thoughts–please feel free to send more questions! I’ll update this post if I get any more. But if you’re someone who wanted to write fic for it, don’t worry, you don’t need to take my headcanons as gospel. It’s a pretty basic AU honestly lol
Summary:
The portal accident results in a violent explosion that wipes out the whole block, and condemns all of Amity Park. Danny haunts the city for 100 years, before Sam and Tucker find him. 
Setup:
In the 1920’s, 19-year-old Danny went into the incomplete portal on his own, hoping to help out his parents. Ripping the portal open through unnatural means created a huge burst of energy that resulted in a massive explosion. A good portion of the Amity Park population died, many were injured, and the ones on the fringes relocated–Amity was quickly deemed too dangerous due to the excess ectoplasm in the area that attracted ghosts. 
While the disaster was in Amity, the fallout was seen around the globe. Before, natural portals were rare, short-lived, and rarely allowed ghosts to fully slip into our realm (the most severe cases being on par with poltergeists that most people didn’t believe in). Now, natural portals pop open frequently around the world, large enough to allow the entirety of a ghost into the physical plane. They’re more common the closer you get to Amity, but they happen enough elsewhere that this change was something of a small apocalypse before people settled back down and found out how to combat at least some of their new, permanent neighbors. 
Danny is unaware that he’s only half-dead, believing he’s a full ghost. He ends up sticking around Amity, unintentionally making it his haunt. His grief and guilt over causing the death of his loved ones (and many others) makes him isolate and avoid human contact. Though he has, at times, scared nosy people away from the city in a mix of territorial instinct–and to get them to leave before a less friendly ghost finds them. 
Ghosts are much more of an uncontested danger in this AU. Lesser ghosts are practically mindless, and while stronger ghosts are capable of reason, their interests are limited. They’re highly territorial, possessive, and often destructive. Most worrisome is that they also like to snack on the life force of anything alive. No one is sure what dictates a ghost’s propensity to attack or hunt the living for their life force since ghosts don’t exactly experience hunger. At least, not the way we do. If a human is rescued before their life force is fully drained, they can make a full recovery–though humanity has still not yet found what this “life force" is. 
And since the Fentons’ research died along with them, there aren’t many tools available to the public to protect them from ghosts. Most homes have standard ghost shields and some weapons are available on the market, but certified ghost hunters are required to take care of anything more powerful than your average spook. 
Sam and Tucker met in high school, and are now rooming together for college very close to the Amity border. Rent is surprisingly cheap when you’re a stone’s throw away from a condemned area crawling with ghosts. Sam is the one who drags Tucker along with her fascination over finding out more about the city, and its largely mysterious demise. Sam is aware of the danger, but feels ghosts have a place in this world just like everything else, and does exercise caution–like one would while foraging in the woods with a known tiger population. 
What she and Tucker weren’t expecting was to run into a ghost that felt almost human. One that hasn't hurt them, not for lack of trying–while being powerful enough to walk past ghost shields without so much as a flinch. The long white hair is familiar in the whispers of the ectobiologist community, but there’s no way it could be the rumored ghost king Phantom, right?
About Danny:
He has very long hair, claws, and black sclera. His hazmat suit is more torn and ragged, with exposed hands and feet that fade into a burnt black.
His hair tends to float a lot on its own. It can start morphing into fire under duress. 
He does still technically have gloves and boots, they've just charred and melted into his skin towards the ends. He can't take them off in his ghost form. His hands and feet have a leathery texture that's tougher than the rest of his skin.
The white of his hazmat suit is both supposed to look like flames, and also a battered look representing his more violent, explosive death.
Overall, he appears rather listless and sad, with an unnerving air of danger around him–even for a ghost. 
Danny’s “ghost sense” comes out as white smoke.
He does breathe black smoke at times, usually when agitated. 
He's already fought and defeated Pariah Dark by the time Sam and Tucker find him, technically making him the Ghost King. This is heavily speculated by ghost experts, despite there being no real proof beyond a massive battle that scarred Illinois. He has not donned the Ring or the Crown, and captured sentient ghosts are hesitant to answer questions surrounding him. Danny basically has the throne but doesn’t do anything with it, and finds it meaningless enough to routinely forget he has the title. He only fought Pariah because he knew otherwise, humanity would have perished. A lot of ghosts are scared of him because he's so hard to figure out, and he's strong. 
Danny is usually very quiet and speaks softly, because his lungs were damaged in the blaze that half-killed him. He's technically healed since becoming a ghost, so it's more of a compulsion due to the traumatic memory. That, and he’s just… very forlorn and distant, shy around humans who don’t seem to understand how dangerous it is to keep hanging around him.
His memories pre-accident are extremely fuzzy. He knows the very basics of who he was, but specifics have been muffled due to trauma and isolation. He routinely forgets human habits, etiquette, etc. and tends to act more like a full ghost with some odd quirks. 
He does try to scare Sam and Tucker off numerous times. Unfortunately for him, they realized they shouldn't have been able to escape a ghost that strong–but they did, because he let them. 
Sam and Tucker think he's mute at first! He doesn't speak a word to them until several encounters later, when he fumbles his whole scary act and saves them from another ghost. 
He’s still half-ghost, though he doesn’t figure this out until Sam and Tucker come along trying to unravel the mysteries behind the Amity catastrophe. Physically and emotionally, he’s been stuck for 100 years–so his human form is still 19. It’s unclear at this point if he can age normally like a human as long as he stays in human form, or if he’s immortal. 
Danny's family did not turn into ghosts, though he sometimes worries he'll find them in the afterlife as shells of their former selves. He doesn't know if it's better or worse that he's not sure he'd recognize them. 
(Danny also still has some living family. Take a guess.)
Yes, he knows how to Wail. Understandably, he very rarely uses it. You do not want to witness this.
Danny :) is not immune :) from the allure of eating a human's life force :)))
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neo-nomatrix · 11 months
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Hate the AM, Hate the PM, But love you
Hobie Brown x reader
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word count: 969
find the mini series here
tags: @maxjesty @marshallowy @sh-tposter2021 @ilovebhna @ladyagagaslefttoe
synopsis: Hobie is still a slightly infuriating neighbor, but there’s something about that jacket and guitar that are all too familiar.
a/n: DRUNK CONFESSIONS!! Part two of this fic. I wasn’t going to write another part to it but i caved 😔
You stood him up. You fucking stood him up. Hobie spent the entire show looking out into the crowd, ignoring the blinding stage lights, to try and find you. But you were nowhere to be found. He asked so nicely too! Despite his nonchalant attitude it took him so long to build up the courage to ask you out. He had dinner reservations planned, which he has obviously never done, looked up places to get a Mr.Whippy and even found a small secluded area where he could play his guitar for you.
The worst part is how it made him feel. He genuinely liked you and it hurt him to think you didn’t feel the same when he thought you did. So what was his solution? Go out with his mates to a pub until 3 am to drink his feelings. Hobie was a bold drunk, bolder than he usually is. He’s also a sloppy drunk, tripping when he walks and slurring his speech like it’s all one word.
You’re peacefully sleeping in your bed with your spiderman eye mask cuddling with your Spider-Punk plushie. It’s not a random occurrence to hear Hobie stomping his boots late at night but it was different today. You heard his boot buckles dragging across the floor and a loud bang against your door. Not necessarily a knock, more of a body slumped against the wood.
“Love! You in there?!” You hear him yell.
You try your hardest to ignore him but as he keeps yelling and pounding against the wood you start to feel sorry for everyone else on your floor. You force yourself out of bed and towards the front door. As you reluctantly open it a drunken Hobie falls into your flat.
“Hobie get your arse up,” you roll your very tired eyes.
He surprisingly agrees and makes his way to your bed.
Great, you think
He tosses his guitar to your couch and gets into your bed like it’s his. Conveniently throwing the spider-punk plush off the bed. He cuddles up with your blanket and closes his eyes. You cannot let him fall asleep.
“Hobie! Hello? That is my bed. Get out!” You yell at him.
“Why’d you do it?” He whispers.
“What,” you ask, still annoyed.
“You stood me up. I asked you to come to my show and you didn’t. Why,” he asked less of a question and more of a statement.
You sigh, of course you knew that was tonight. In all honesty you don’t quite know why you didn’t go. You weren’t doing anything special and it probably would’ve been nice. But you were scared. Scared of what? You also didn’t know that, you just were.
“I… I don’t know,” you admit.
“Really hurt me, Love. I wanted to see you and take you out on a nice date,” he looked away from you.
Your heart shattered. You knew Hobie liked you but not to that extent. You thought he was just playing around with you and didn’t mean anything by it.
“I’m really sorry, Hobie. We should go out some other time, okay? My treat,” you promise.
“Nah, don’t think i’ll have the time,” He says, clearly less sad than he was a few moments ago.
“Oh yeah? Busy with what? Trying to tear down the government from the inside?” You laugh.
“Of course not, that’s for the first saturday of every month. I’ll be busy being Spiderman,” he says, cuddling closer to your blanket.
You stop immediately. Your mind goes blank, the world around you stops. You’re suddenly much more awake than you have ever been. Hobie is… no you can’t even say it. The man you’ve hated ever since you had moved in was the person you loved more than anything else? That can’t be right, he’s having a laugh. That’s gotta be it.
“I don’t believe in comedy,” you remember him saying.
Fuck. He’s not joking, is he?
“What?” you manage to get out.
“I’ll be busy, being spiderman and all. Yknow who that is right? Don’t know if you noticed but he’s- i mean I’m kinda all over your room,” he lets out a drunk giggle.
He pulls out his mask from the pocket of his jacket and handed it to you.
“See?”
You grab it in disbelief. You run your hand over the spandex in awe. Spiderman is right in front of you, you realize.
Oh. My. God. SPIDERMAN IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU.
You just can’t believe the man you’ve idolized for years was in your bed. YOUR BED.
Hobie takes the blanket off of him, lifting up his shirt to reveal his suit. Blue and fucking red material.
“I don’t believe in the labels though. It’s stupid,” He says in the most Hobie way possible.
“You’re a superhero,” you say, still a little shocked.
“No. No, don't say that. I'm not a hero, because calling yourself a hero makes you a self-mythologising, narcissistic autocrat,” He says. God even drunk he’s still a smart ass.
“So you still wanna go out?” He asks.
“What? I just found out you’re fucking Spiderman and that’s what you’re asking me? If I want to go out with you?” You respond.
“I mean what else is there to say? I already know you love me,” he nods to the spiderman memorabilia.
Even in this state he still leaves you speechless.
“Well- yeah I guess. We can go out,” you say slowly.
“Cool,” he nods.
He lifts up the blanket and scoots over, inviting you into your bed with him. You roll your eyes and get in with him. He wraps his arms around you and smiles.
“I knew you wanted to snog me from the start,” he laughs.
Hobie is still pretty infuriating, but that is slowly becoming one of your favorite things about him.
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bewarethecircles · 9 months
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After a vacation in Alpha Centauri, Gabriel and Beelzebub come back to earth and move in together. They proceed to be the worst and most baffling neighbors anyone in the neighborhood has ever experienced. 
They introduced themselves as Bee and Jim, but immediately started laughing about it, so people are pretty sure those aren't their real names. 
Neither of them seem to have jobs, but they must be rich, because their house is massive and they're always wearing fancy clothes, and their wallets are bursting with money. Maybe they’re in the mafia?
Speaking of fancy clothes, “Jim” is always wearing designer suits. There is an ongoing game where people attempt to take a picture of him in any other clothes. One time, an enterprising teenager went so far as to sneak over in the middle of the night to look into his bedroom (hoping he’d be in pajamas), and saw him still in a suit, Standing on Top of the Bed, eyes wide open and Smiling Brightly. (Gabriel has not gotten the hang of sleeping yet.) (The teenager refuses to go near the house ever again.)
The short one, “Bee,” is consistently trailed by flies. This is alarming to everyone. They say that they're a “fly-keeper,” but people are pretty sure that's not a thing. Do they carry rotting meat around or something?
Bee also seems to be constantly changing appearances. One day they have a buzz cut, the next day their hair goes to their mid-back. Their eyes are a different colour every time you see them. People have set up cameras to take pictures of them on different days, and upon comparing them they are Definitely almost 6 inches taller this week. Even their facial features shift. 
It gets to the point where people decide Jim must just have multiple partners, and be lying about it. (“Multiple partners that all look similar and are never seen together?” the opposition will point out. When asked if they have a better theory, they can never answer.)
The two of them will have romantic moments Anywhere, including standing in the middle of the highway staring into each others eyes. By all rights they should have been run over, but in a bizarre coincidence every car in the area ran out of fuel and stopped moving at that exact moment. People want to blame Jim for it (he did make a strange hand movement, after all), but that would just be absurd.
They use the absolute worst pet names for each other. A list of overheard ones is being recorded. “My rotten cabbage?” “My hell-bringer?” “Dearest packet of crisps??” 
You cannot let them notice that you're disgusted by their lovey-doveyness. They will either get exponentially more cringey, or straight up insult you until you run away crying. Or both. 
“Everyday” by Buddy Holly will be audible to the whole block at all times. Do they know other songs exist? Don't they get bored of this one?? Why is it so loud???
There’s a statue of Jim in the front yard. Its 20 feet tall and definitely a HOA violation, but people are too scared to mention it. Both Bee and Jim will come out at different times and spend hours staring at it dreamily. 
People would hate them, but ever since they moved in the weather has been perfect, crime is at an all time low, and there’s little trucks that go around selling hot chocolate, and those things Probably cant be because of them, but still...
Plus, Jim doesn’t understand how money works at all, so he’ll give you $300 for a bag of chips. It's endearing, even if he is sometimes a jerk.
Bee does seem to know how money works, but they’ll frequently pay even more than Jim, especially if the person seems overworked and the place is under-staffed. They say they have experience with it.
After a month of them living there, most of the neighborhood is in a group chat created to discuss the two of them. Beelzebub is secretly in the chat, and reads their favourite theories to Gabriel. 
A rumour starts going around that they're an angel and a demon in disguise, but no one can agree which one is which. 
Beelzebub is the one who started the rumour. 
If anyone writes a fic with any of this by all means tag me I'd love to see it!!
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writingouthere · 4 months
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neighbor!Sukuna x singlemom!reader. In the aftermath of your apartment flooding, Sukuna makes you a deal that is too good to pass up. You don't fully know what you're agreeing to, but if you did would it have really changed anything? Reader POV
cw: Sukuna may seem like just a nice guy stepping up but really he's a red flag you're just too tired to see. It's hinted reader has not been treated well in the past but no specifics.
You hadn't known what to do when you woke up to the sound of rushing water. You had acted on instinct and grabbed your daughter from the room next to yours and stood in the kitchen, calling your landlord from the number on your lease to no avail. Your daughter was starting to get fussy and after the fourth attempt with no answer, you felt lost.
Your ex hadn't exactly been the reliable type and he probably would have just contributed by cursing and complaining about shitty landlords and even shittier affordable housing but that wouldn't have helped then and thinking about it wasn't helping you now. Single, alone with your daughter who was growing more disgruntled by the minute.
You hated to even consider but, there was someone who you kept coming back to that you thought could help.
Sukuna.
The tattooed man across the hallway hadn't struck you as the friendly type, but he had proved you wrong in the few months since you moved in. He looked like the type of guy you would cross the street to avoid, but he always had time to stop and talk to you when he saw you. He also always made it a point to say hello to your daughter and listen to her rambles, even when they didn't make sense to you.
Your other neighbors had warned you about him. Stories that included threats and assaults you just couldn't connect to the man who had taken you and your daughter to the aquarium when your piece of shit ex bailed on you both, again.
You had googled him afterwards and what you saw was pages and pages that included things like attempted, suspected and scarier words like murder, hospitalized and other things that just didn't fit with the man you were still getting to know.
The water was still falling and once your daughter started waking up, you called it and went over to the maybe scary man across the hall, who never scared you.
Within ten minutes, you found yourself in Sukuna's guest room while he stayed behind at your apartment to figure everything out. When was the last time someone told you, "I got it." You were always the responsible one. You were the mom friend, the girlfriend people liked to introduce to their parents. You had basically parented yourself!
But now, there was someone who told you that, "I got it."
So who could blame you for going along with what came next. When the next morning came and Sukuna told you that your super had come too late and the apartment was damage and you couldn't stop yourself from putting your head in your hands as your daughter happily munched on the pancakes he had made you both.
"What am I going to do," you groaned and you couldn't help but lean in when Sukuna placed his hand on your cheek.
"He said he would put you up in a hotel until it can be fixed," he said gently and you sighed. You envisioned the next several months in some shitty motel with no kitchen, sharing a lumpy bed with your two year-old, disrupting the routines you had been trying so hard to build as a single mom. No more afternoon trips to the park that was less than a block away. No more feeding the ducks with your leftover veggies or sharing pick up duties with the other moms at the daycare by your work.
"This sucks, I don't want to have to build my life all over again." And you really didn't. This was so frustrating and over what, a little water damage?
"Well," Sukuna started and he tilted your head so you were looking at him. "I do have the guest room. You could move some of your stuff over here and camp out until it's fixed. Pocket the hotel money, use it for something for the kid."
"Oh, I couldn't impose on you like that-"
"I wouldn't offer if it was an imposition," he said, his eyes glinting and for just a second you could see a little of the danger your neighbors had told you about, but then it was gone and he was leaning over you to take another pancake from the serving tray and putting it on your daughter's empty plate.
"It's not just for you, I would-I would feel a lot better knowing the both of you were taken care of. I doubt the hotel that-" he cut off looking over at your daughter, "you know is putting you up in is going to be the safest place for the two of you."
You couldn't believe you were considering it but you were so tired. You felt like life had just become a series of less than ideal circumstances you were forced to deal with just because you didn't want to settle for the wrong guy or give your daughter less than she deserved.
"I would pay rent," you said and he looked ready to argue but you held up your hand. He smiled, amused and gestured go on. "Just until they can fix the apartment and if we get to be too much tell me. We can tough it out in a hotel. We've dealt with worse," you added and he frowned before nodding.
"Deal." He turned to look at your daughter and smiled. "You hear that bug, you and mommy are moving in." Your daughter giggled and clapped her syrup covered hands.
"Temporarily," you reminded him and he smiled at you.
"Right, let's go grab the stuff you'll need while you're here temporarily." He went grabbed a towel and wiped your daughters hands while she kept laughing and chanting "move in, move in!"
Is it your fault that you didn't know that your circumstances were anything but temporary?
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toutallyahoe · 22 days
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*coughs* milkman x doppelganger! male reader with tentacles *coughs*
━ good neighbour ,, that's not my neighbor
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pairing(s): francis "milkman" mosses x doppelganger! male reader warnings: cursing, monster fucking, dub con, tentacle porn, sadism/masochism (?), dacryphilia (?), monster [name], doppelganger [name] a/n: ask and you shall receive mahal <333
also sorry if its shit, i literally wrote this as i was high and sleepy on the bus lol
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Francis did not know how it happened... but it did. One moment he was relaxing in his apartment room, lying on a worn-down couch in the living room as he was trying to get in some rest since he was tired from another day of delivering milk. The next he was opening the door to his next-door neighbour who had knocked and asked for some help as you were locked out of your room since you forgot the keys inside.
Francis didn't think too much of it at first. You, his neighbour was a nice young man after all, whom he was on decent terms. And it wouldn't be bad to be a good neighbour even though you did disturb him from sleeping. Sure, it may be a bit suspicious with doppelgangers running around to copy people's faces to get into buildings to kill off residents, but the doorman of his building had never been wrong before. And who was he to not help his neighbour who had always been very kind to him, sending him a smile or a wave each time Francis went out for the day to do his deliveries when you coincidentally go out at the same time to work?
But how did this happen?
Opening the door to his apartment and welcoming you in, you immediately sent him an apologetic look as you told him that you were going to call the building manager to help with your lost keys... before Francis knew it, he was pushed to the wall with his arms pinned above his head by the very same neighbour of his, looking at him with an amused look, eyes now red and had no sense of that warmth that Francis was used too.
"You made things very easy," You had said as Francis felt his voice stuck in his throat as he stared in horror when tentacles appeared behind you... was this even you? Pretty sure no normal human has.... this?!? "Aw, scared? I didn't even do anything yet."
A doppelganger. The damn doorman let a fucking doppelganger in and Francis was stupid enough to also let said doppelganger in his apartment!!!
"Please," Francis' voice was weak as his body began to shake in fear, knowing well what would happen next from the doppelganger being here. His door was already locked and the damn thing was in here with him. All alone. "P... please..."
The doppelganger of his neighbour let out a chuckle which gave Francis goosebumps. It was deep and gruff and Francis would have swooned if it wasn't from the current situation. You leaned close to him, tilting your head and you grinned. Francis gulped upon seeing the sharp teeth. So sharp, it can probably tear off flesh... definitely tear off flesh.
"Please?" You asked, mockingly using the same scared tone Francis had as the tentacles behind you moved to replace your hands from pinning Francis to the wall. "Please what, sweetheart?"
"Don't kill me," Francis managed to say as his heartbeat escalated. Shit. You were close. Too close. "Please don't kill me."
"Now we can't do that," You said as you shook your head. Francis let out a hiss from his wrists was squeezed by the tentacle that pinned it. A whimper escaped his throat when his tired eyes widened from you leaning more closer to him. "No, we really can't..." You paused for a second as your eyebrows furrowed. Looking at Francis for a second as you hummed.
Francis waited with bated breath, hitching when he heard the doppelganger's next words. "Well, unless..."
Francis' legs were spread out as he was still pinned down, on his couch this time. Every muscle in his body was tensed as pants left his lips. He threw his head back when he felt the large tentacle that was inside him hit his prostate each time it thrust inside him. "Shit!" Francis tried to muffle his moans but a slap to his face made him whimper and cry, his moans pouring out like a waterfall now. He tearfully looked at you as you grinned at him, in between his legs as you loomed over him.
"Let it all out," You commanded as you pinched Francis red and abused nipples, twisting the bud harshly. Making the Milkman whimper as his body was quivering from the intense pleasure and pain. Another tentacle was then pushed inside his hole, stretching him more which burned but Francis had to admit, it felt so good.
"I'm... 'm sorry," Francis slurred as he let out a loud more feeling both tentacles rubbing his swollen prostate vigorously that it was borderline causing him pain now. The pace was harsh yet he couldn't do anything with that. He was at the mercy of the doppelganger looming over him. "I won't — won't... I—" A cry leave his lips as his dick twitched, another release was coming and it really didn't take long, not from the abuse his body was getting. Before Francis knew it, the knot in his stomach snapped as he came, his back arching as he threw his head back. Spurts of cum came shooting out his red, aching cock into the air and hitting you a bit.
You clicked your tongue in annoyance as you slapped Francis in the face again. "Did I say you can come?" You asked as you glared at the quivering body of the Milkman, leaning down, your hand found themselves in Francis' neck. You smiled, sharp teeth showing as you squeezed at the Milkman's throat which made Francis let out choke noises. More tears fell down Francis' eyes as his lips quivered
"Please."
You only chuckled as you brought out more tentacles from behind you. "We aren't done yet, sweetheart."
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cherry-cola-on-ice · 21 days
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Slashers with a sleepwalking s/o
AN: totally based off my personal experiences sleepwalking lol asked my friends and family what their favorite sleepwalking episode was.
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Jason Voorhees 🏕
Jason is already paranoid AF about you unknowingly wandering into a trap during the day.
But the first time he comes across you in the woods at night? When you should be asleep?
He is not a happy man. Many thoughts run through his mind. Are you trying to leave him? Trying to get yourself hurt? Would you rather die then be with him?
It takes him a good while and a lot of explaining for him to understand what's happening. That your not intentionally doing this. Science shit™️
He sets up a system. Maybe a bell or two. Something loud to let him know where you are. Maybe some trip wires.
Strangest thing he's seen you do: He watched you eat a entire sleeve of saltines while standing in the shower.
Michael Myers 🎃
Michael's seen some shit. So this is nothing. All those years in Smiths Grove have prepared him for this. So you sleepwalk? Cool, his neighbor at Smiths Grove used to eat cockroachs.
That being said, the closer you're relationship grows, the more worried he becomes. What if you fall down the stairs? What if you wander into the road? What if, what if, what if??
He doesn't have the foresight to set up traps, like Jason does.
Uses his fucked up sleep schedule to his advantage and often stands over your sleeping body. Jumpscare.
Will definitely tie a bell on you while you sleep. Totally not a collar what are you saying? Don't make it kinky.
The strangest thing he's seen you do: Put all of the remotes in the refrigerator because they needed batteries.
Thomas Hewitt 🥩
Poor sweet man. You're going to give him a heart attack one of these days.
However, he's probably one of the more better prepared of the lot. His house is set up to keep people in and out. So there isn't much danger you can get into.
Unless he forgets to lock up the basement. Which has happened once. And only once. You were fairly unharmed if not a little traumatized.
Has taken to locking your bedroom door. Also installs like 10 latches. AND puts a bell on the doorknob. And maybe sometimes you.
Look, he's already scared of losing you to somebody else, he doesn't want to have to worry him losing you to you.
Strangest thing he's seen you do: Him, Monty and Hoyt sat and watched you stand in front of the sink for a hour and a half. Just standing there. Menacingly
Brahms Heelshire 🐀
Oh, poor baby is confused. Especially at the start of your situation-ship. You don't know he's there, you just think you're babysitting a doll for a sad old couple. Not their grown ass son who lives in the walls.
The first time Brahms finds you sleepwalking, he's pissed. You trying to leave him, he knows you are. But... did you just snore?? Wait, you're asleep. He feels a little better about the situation.
Until you start walking towards the stairs. Boy's never moved so fast in his life. He knows if he wakes you up it's game over. So he gives you a gentle nudge back to your room.
Now after you find about the rat man in the walls, things are different. Brahms, even in the deepest REM cycle, will never let you go. Man is a koala and you are the tree he's clinging to for dear life. It's almost impossible to escape his arms at night.
Almost makes you sleep in the walls instead of the bedroom so you're safer. Like ain't no way you're getting out of those without him waking up.
Strangest thing he's seen you do: Sat up in bed, complaining about the maracas in your mouth??? He cried.
Billy Lenz 🎄
World's worst caretaker 👑
Especially before yall start dating because, at that point in time, he's still trying to decide if he wants to kill you. He won't lie, he very briefly thought about pushing you down the stairs.
But? After you win him over? Yeah still kinda sucks ass at keeping you from hurting yourself. He'll keep you alive, mind you, just a little worse for wear.
He asked you once if he could tie you down in bed. You didn't like the look in his eyes so you declined. Billy pouted for the next three days.
TBH he might do it anyways. Look he's just trying to keep your silly little self safe, S/O. Get your mind out of the gutter. Haha, jk...unless 😏?
The strangest thing he's seen you do is eat a entire bag of gummy bears while standing outside. He joined you.
Vincent Sinclair 🖌
Another prepared king 👑
His workshop is dangerous. Upstairs is dangerous. The whole town is health code violation. And bby cannot stand the idea of you hurting yourself.
But other then the constant anxiety that you'll some how end up falling off the stairs or falling into the wax or the any other number of things his brain comes up with, he's very level-headed.
Child safety locks. He buys that shit in bulk.
But hey, gives him a excuse to hold you at night. (Vincent, they're literally your s/o)
The strangest thing he's seen you do is stand over Bo's bed, chanting tomato. Bo almost cried.
Bo Sinclair 🔧
Definition of "Look at that idiot...oh wait that's my idiot!"
Honestly, probably the worst. Not like 'let's you just walk around' worst, but more like 'Imma gonna chain you to the bed' worst.
Dude's so scared of losing you, pretty much the best thing that ever happened to him, that his willing to go to drastic matters to keep you safe.
Don't try to explain the science behind it, you'll only give him a migraine. Just let him keep you safe. K, bby?
Bo's gonna lose sleep some nights, he's that scared. No doubt you will wake up to the feeling of someone watching you. Just comfort him, ok?
Strangest thing he's seen you do is sit up in bed and start singing 'Livin La Vida Loca'
Asa Emory 🪲
Number one prepared king™️
I'm not saying he may or may not, kinda sorta perhaps placed cameras around your living situation before you two even began dating. But yeah he did.
So he knows all about the crazy shenanigans you are up to at night.
He reads the books, watching online lectures 👏all👏the👏research. You can bet your sweet ass he knows exactly how to wake you up in case of emergency.
In the same breath, despite how much he does love you, science. Prepare to be studied like a bug under a microscope.
Strangest thing he's seen you do is standing with the refrigerator doors open, telling him how much you love this show.
Norman Bates 🚿
My poor sweet innocent murder bby. He doesn't know what to do.
Yeah, keep you safe, he's got that much down. But at what cost?
The hotel looks like a a daycare center now. Baby proofing everywhere (ask him about getting locked out of the bathroom, it's funny)
Suggested a collar once as a joke, wasn't expecting you to agree. Got flustered. Dropped his cup, maybe got a bone.
Another koala sleeper, so good luck escaping his embrace. Will go as far as following you to the bathroom to make sure you're actually awake.
Strangest thing he's seen you do is sit down in a fake potted plant in the living room and talk about dinosaurs.
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clairdelunelove · 6 months
Text
okay, but, neighbor!ghost that doesn't usually celebrate halloween– that is, until his pretty neighbor shows up at his front door with a plateful of pumpkin-shaped cookies.
the spooky tradition was never one for him to celebrate. too many memories associated with terror, fright, and horror. his childhood never provided him with a safe space for him to indulge in the fun activities that many children his age would’ve enjoyed. pumpkin carving with a present family. trick-or-treating with a couple of his elementary school friends. apple bobbing at a local fair. all the festivities that caused people to glow with delight. laughter abundant in the air. hence, halloween was disguised as an excuse for people to use when they desired genuine company. a relief from the typical, dull work/school day. a justification to huddle up and share a slice of serenity. instead, it serves as the opposite for him. dread fills his body while recalling his manchester childhood. with tommy crawling to the edge of his meager bed, adorned in a crude skull mask. a means to scare him. hollow eyes cutting right through him in the shadowy room. a scream ripping from his mouth as his palms become sweaty, body kicking into overdrive. fight or flight instincts consuming him. his fault for letting his guard slip. a mistake he rarely committed now. a mistake he’d never fall victim to ever again. but he’s older now. knows that this specific day is the highlight of some people’s year so he doesn’t rain on their parade. simply withdraws from the excessive decorating that some tend to do. flicks off his porch lights that night, too. doesn’t want to get the neighborhood kids’ hopes up if they see that there’s signs of life within his flat. also discovers that the constant ringing of his doorbell is aggravating and having to frequently grumble, “no candy tonight,” is too bothersome. so he’s not one to celebrate halloween– that is, until there’s a soft knock at his door.  
neighbor!ghost who’s cautious about answering the door. because who would need him at this hour? if the base required his presence then they’d phone his landline if it was an emergency. no need to show up at this hour. his dark eyes briefly glance out the nearby window to catch sight of the dusky sky. hues of orange swirled with streaks of titian red that created the perfect backdrop for the evening. the weather had gotten cooler, also. with sharp gusts of wind nipping at the uncovered portions of his face and having to swap out his well-worn shirts for thermal long sleeves. preferred autumn for this sole reason because he’d have to rake up the fallen leaves. gave him a task to complete on the lonesome days when the base didn’t need his presence. he’s mentally checking off a to-do list (did the smoke detector need changing? was the sidewalk covered in leaves? did the ceiling lights need replacing?) when there’s another soft knock. “bloke’s insistent,” he grumbles with a roll of his eyes, “but I’m not buying anythin’.” assumes it’s just a door-to-door scam. or probably people collecting for charity. yeah, those people never let up.
neighbor!ghost who knows that curiosity killed the cat but he argues that satisfaction brings it back. he reaches a hand out to ease out the small piece of paper he stuffed inside the door’s peephole. a tactic he uses for extra security and privacy. never know if an unusual situation will arise. shifting forward, he presses closer to the peephole and focuses his gaze through the small opening. nothing. he huffs in disbelief. can’t believe he’s going through the entire 5 stages of grief solely because of a knock at the door. seriously, how bored must he be to spend this much time on a simple gesture? “wastin’ my bloody time,” he says while narrowing his eyes. yet, his calloused hand grips at the doorknob and twists. perhaps double checking could quell his curiosity. 
neighbor!ghost who’s lips draw together to instinctively blurt, “scram,” before going completely silent at the sight of you. the threat falls flat. you’re practically glowing at his doorstep. despite the lack of actual lighting, due to the fact that he prefers his place shrouded in the night’s shadow, you’re still nervously smiling up at him. a vision wrapped in an intricately knit sweater to combat the chilly evening and pretty eyes that follow him when he braces his arm against the doorframe. “hi,” you quickly regard him with a wave of your hand, eyes still trained on his uncovered bicep. Swirls of darkened ink and intricate patterns that failed to conceal toned muscle. accumulated from years of being in the service. and you assumed such a large man would be grim and solemn; unwilling to give you some of his time. yet, his hooded eyes regard you with an inquisitiveness that causes your heart to thrum harder against your chest. it’s clumsy and the tips of your fingers are trembling but that only intrigues him. he can’t help but mull over the fact that your greeting sounds like a bird’s gentle chirp in the early mornings. it’s polite, sweet, and he craves to hear more of it. 
neighbor!ghost who discovers that if he wordlessly stands there for long enough, you’re compelled to fill the silence. it’s a rather endearing quirk. prefers it, really. he’d rather listen to your angelic voice than hear his surly one. you initially waited for his response but you’re met with quietude and his perceptive gaze. he’s an expert in ridding people of their ulterior motives. you, however, you’re as kindhearted as they come and his verdict is proven correct when you reveal a tray of cookies to him. “made these earlier,” your gaze darted to the floor before quietly confessing, “wanted to drop some off to you.” the platter of sugar cookies gleamed up at him and ghost blinks– once, twice, three times. there were various designs (pumpkins, ghosts, bats) that were carefully decorated with royal icing in autumn colors. they looked perfect and he’d argue that they were better than the ones that he snagged a peek at from the local bakery. “it’s one of my favorite days so,” you cheerfully mention and cue him to take a cookie, “happy halloween.” 
neighbor!ghost who typically doesn’t reach for sickeningly sweet desserts but for you he’d make an exception. he grabs one that you offer to him and rumbles genuine praise, “thanks, sweet thing,” while taking a bite. the nickname provokes a flurry of want within you. you, however, tamper down the desire while you watch with wide eyes. he thoughtfully chews and nods in approval, a movement that draws your focus to him. finishes the treat without any prompting. and with his small confirmation that he enjoyed it, the brightest smile graces your face. the sight festers a warmth within him– one that causes his thoughts to regularly return to you. always. he supposes he could get behind this “halloween” thing if you were the one showing up at his door.
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luvyeni · 5 months
Text
MY SHY NEIGHBOR ( chapter. 14 )
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— CHAPTER FOURTEEN: my favorite cashier 🥰🤍…
— 𖦹 warnings? none
previous chapter - next chapter - my shy neighbor masterlist
You opened the door to the café, immediately coming into jeongins view. “Hey.” He waved; you waved back. “Well, isn’t it my favorite cashier.” He nervously rubbed the back of his neck, smiling to himself. “D-do you want the same.”
“You know it.” You said, “And what drink would you recommend.” He thought about it, before pointing. “I order that every day.” You nodded, “then i’ll have that too.” You smiled. “Are you eating here today too?” he asked. “Yeah I have a while until my next class.”
You found your favorite seat, pulling out your phone to wait for your food. You checked your messages, frowning — it had been a week since your mystery man texted you, he was supposed to be only a client, but you actually looked forward to his text.
Why was he ignoring you? Had you crossed the line by saying you wanted to see him? No way, guys would beg to see you — they’d pay money to spend the night with you, even if you knew you’d never do it. Maybe that’s what made him different. Maybe he only wanted to keep it strictly over the phone. By why? “(yn)?”
“I’m about to go on my lunch break.” Jeongin told his co-worker. “Good, you can take this to your girlfriend.” He handed him a tray. “My girlfriend?” he said, “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“So that girl isn’t your girlfriend?” He pointed to where you sat. “n-no, she’s not.” He stuttered; you were the only girl he could mutter a single word to unless it was a coworker. “But i’ve seen you talking to her, which is rare for you, you know she also asks for you when you aren’t here?”
You ask about him? Why? “We’re just friends.” He said. “Well, she’s cute, you should set me up.” He took the tray from the boy. “Stop saying nonsense, i’ll be back soon.” He walked over to you; you hadn’t acknowledged him yet.
“yn?” you finally look up at him, he sat your tray down. “Thank you.” You said, “Are you on your break now?” He nodded. “Good now you can sit with me.” You pointed to the seat in front of you. “m-me?” you chuckled. “Well there’s no one else i’d be talking to silly.”
He hesitantly sat down, you past him the drink. “Here, drink this.” You smiled, “I get these for free, you didn’t have to.” You flagged him off. “I know, that’s why I also got you this.” You handed him half of the dessert. “Eat up.”
You watched him pick up the fork, taking a bite of the dessert. “Good, now stop being so scared, we’ve been talking for a few weeks you shouldn’t be this scared of me anymore.” You said, his ears turned. “I-i’m sorry.” He said, you reached out grabbing his hand. “Don’t stress it too much.”
He hated that he was like it this, being so shy has never worked out in his favor, we’ll expect those few times, drunk girls don’t really care if you’re shy or not, they just want to jump on the closest cute guy they see — that’s a story for a different time.
“I talk to much anyway, so I can do the talking for me and you.” You smiled, he mirrored yours. “Does that sound good?” He chuckled, looking down realizing you haven’t taken your hands off his — his heart thumping for a second, he followed your hand. “You have a tattoo?”
Where has he seen that tattoo? Before he could get another look, you took your hand away. “it’s embarrassing, me and lily got matching tattoos and they completely fucked it up.” You laughed, covering it up, that’s where he probably seen it, but he could’ve sworn he’d seen it somewhere else. “Ah, you two must be close?” You nodded. “We’re both from australia, she was the first person I actually met besides chan.” You spoke.
Sadly, it was time for him to get up, but he didn’t want to, he enjoyed talking to you. “You have to go back to work now?” He frowned, nodding. “Sadly.” He stood up, you grabbed his hand. “Hold on.” You reached into your bag, grabbing a pen and a piece of paper. “I know we live next door to each other, but if you ever want to hang out when you’re not at work, you can call me.”
He watched you writing your number down. “Here.” You put the paper in his hand. “Make sure to actually use it, I really want to hang out with you.” You said, he nodded, praying you didn’t notice his red ear, or at least ignored it. “o-okay, i will.”
“Good.” You let his arm go with a smile, and he turned to walk away, smiling to himself. “Oh, it’s you.” He ran into your friend. “Mat!” He heard you yell. “It’s nice to see you, you should come out with us again, you cook really good meat.” Jeongin nodded, walking back to his register.
He watched you conversation with your friend, looking over at him, smiling waving. He waved back, smiling. “Jeongin pay attention, you have a customer.”
He shook his head; you were all he was focusing on, he forgot he was at work. “i’m so sorry, welcome to Love café how can I help you.”
And this time he actually said it with a smile.
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— ( taglist. CLOSED ) @soulsbbg @k-poplv @yourmomscuntis2tighy @bbokarimenu @enczen @queen-in-the-shadows @thesweetesttattoo @ririlinoriri @aloverga @ashiitex @ddazed-lhs @heartsforhyunjin @chlodavids @simp4myself @surefornext @lostwonderwall @xxr-s4sha @charmer-c @vixensss @frobin4ever @bmnyy @semi-semiisbae @m111nho @i2innie @aalexyuuuhm @iraa567 @cheshireshiya @ihrtlix @abbiestearsricochet @niaalove @skzswife @babrieeee @thisisnotjacinta @luvskai @ikeusol @costalmaine @whos-kkira @minhosprettywife @hey-hey-heybitch @jeongins-version @denisaandreea20 @lovesunshinefelix @222brainrot @thatgirlkay @ss3oung @number1jeonginstan @whitney190 @jongseongsluvr @chesemonky @worcesheshestershiresauce @puppy-minnie @prettygirlsstanskz @hanniemylovelyquokka
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©LUVYENI
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ranhaitanisgf · 3 months
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hi! could i request headcanons or oneshot (either is okay) for bonten timeline sanzu haruchiyo with an excitable, extroverted reader? thank you so much, and no worries if not! (+ also your theme still says rqs are closed, but i saw you posted them being open two hrs ago :3)
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pay attention to me!!
synopsis: how would bonten haruchiyo act w/ an excited & extroverted s/o?
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☆ a/n ˎˊ˗ idk if yall can tell but ive never written for mr haru lawl ... also !! i added a little mini oneshot cause i couldn't help myself :3 thank you so much for requesting !! this was so cute to write !! i hope everyone enjoysss xoxo
☆ characters ˎˊ˗ sanzu (akashi) haurchiyo x g/n!reader
☆ wc ˎˊ˗ 2.7k+
masterlist
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❥ sanzu thinks you’re annoying at first. 
❥ he doesn’t notice at all when you first move into his apartment building; he doesn’t take much care in noticing small things like that if it didn’t relate to bonten. his work and mikey were the only important things to him, so when he hears excited squealing seeping through his walls one day, he thinks that his neighbor has a kid, (which quite frankly annoyed him, but he decided he didn’t care enough to do anything about it). 
❥ there was no estimated time as to when he would get home--ranging anywhere from 6pm to 4am--so it takes at least a month or two for him to meet you officially. coincidentally, he had been going out to grab a drink from the convenience store when you were excitedly jumping around outside your door, a delivery package in your hands. 
“oh! omg, are you sanzu-san?!” “...hah? who’re you?” “oh my gosh, i’ve been knocking on your door everyday for the past month, but you never seemed to be home! i never got to introduce myself to you! i’m (l/n) (y/n)! i moved in not that long ago, so i wanted to get to know my neighbors!”  “‘kay. bye.” 
❥ the only thing he wants to do is get away from you; he doesn’t want to be bothered with civilians, much less someone as annoying as you seemed to be. seriously, why were you talking so loud?!
❥ much to his displeasure, you followed him all the way to the convenience store, talking his ear off about the most meaningless things he’s ever heard of in his life, (how does somebody talking about nothing for so long?!) as he purchases his drinks and walks back to the apartment building. it takes everything in him not to snap at you; if he did, he would probably wake up all the neighbors from raising his voice, which wouldn’t be ideal since this was already his fifth apartment in the last six months. 
❥ he’s unsure how you possibly couldn’t get a hint that he didn’t want to be bothered, especially after he only said a maximum of ten words to you in the whole thirty minutes you were following him around, (are you really that clueless? is this what loneliness does to people?). it does take him by surprise that you aren’t scared of him though; you’d shown absolutely no sign of apprehension despite the scars around his mouth, which he supposes shows a bit of good character from you. not that he really cares. 
❥ he’s more than happy to shut the door on your face when he gets back to his apartment, finally indulging in the peace and quiet of his apartment, (he doesn’t think he’s ever been so happy to hear nothing). right when he’s opening his bottle of sake, he hears squealing through the walls. when you start monologuing about whatever you’d received in the mail, he just decides to quit and go to bed. 
❥ sanzu isn’t sure how, but you have somehow made it your routine to follow him places whenever you ran into him. he also isn’t sure why he continuously allows you to tag along with him, but as long as it doesn’t affect his work, he doesn’t really care. 
❥ you’re always talking about something; the weather, your coworker’s strange behavior the other day, or the stray cat you saw in the alleyway that ran away. there are times when he tunes out your talking and uses it as white noise, but you never seemed to get upset at the fact that he visibly is zoning out. 
❥ after a while, he gets used to your constant presence around him, so much so that he finds it strange to not hear your excited yammering while he’s at work, (although he supposes he wouldn’t want to have that constantly in his ear while he’s doing ‘business’ with someone). 
❥ the one thing that gets the attention of the rest of the bonten executives is when he suddenly stops going to the clubs, leaving whatever work he had there for during the day when it was barren. it was such a drastic change in behavior; sure, sanzu was never the type to be obsessed with the scantily dressed girls in the club, but he was known for taking some home every once in a while. at the very least, he was known for getting various types of substances from sketchy dealers who frequently attended. what’s even stranger to everyone is the fact that he slowly starts to engage in less substances, (though he still does every once in a while) which is what rings the alarm bells. 
“oi, sanzu.” “what do you want, ran? i’m fuckin’ busy.”  “well, it can wait. the fuck’s been up with you lately? you’ve been acting weird as shit.” “so?”  “so, what the hell’s been up with you?” “none of your goddamn business, that’s what.”  “woahh, easy there, man. seriously, somethin’ bothering you?”  “i said it’s nothing, so drop it.”
❥ by the time he realizes what he’s been doing, it’s too late for him. you and your talkative self have wiggled their way into his heart, setting up camp to stay for a while. he had a glimpse of a thought of it when ran was confronting him, but he immediately pushed it out of his mind because how could that possibly be true? 
❥ it can’t be true, even if he unwillingly likes to think about it now. he can’t let himself think about it; you were one of the most strange yet innocent and pure people he’s ever met, so how could he willingly taint you with someone like himself? no, he wouldn’t let it happen.
❥ and just like that, everything seems to be back to normal for him. he goes to the club even more than he did before, and the amount of substances he uses seems to increase exponentially by the week. he begins to sleep on the couch in his dingy office instead of going home so that he doesn’t run into you, only going home for the bare essentials every couple days, (and even then, he leaves after just a few minutes). 
❥ it’s just his luck that he gets out of his car the moment you turn the corner onto the apartment building’s block, seeing him in plain sight as he freezes for a moment. and then he unfreezes because 1.) why is he of all people scared to run into you? he’s a bonten executive, he’s killed people before, so why was his heart beating so fast right now? and 2.) he needs to get away from there. right now. 
˗ˏˋ𖤐ˎˊ˗
“hey!! not so fast, haruchiyo!!” you shout, your steps hastening as you try to catch up with him. sanzu can hear your steps behind him, but his long legs give him the advantage as he quickly ducks into the apartment building, smashing the elevator button and tapping his foot as it decides to be as slow as it possibly can be. 
he lets out a ‘tsk!’ sound when he notices you enter the building, promptly looking away from you and looking cooly at the blinker indicating what level the elevator was on, (can this thing move faster?!). 
“stop ignoring me!! where have you been?!” you questioned, your voice a mix of worry and anger. “i’ve been knocking on your door everyday with no response!! i know you don’t particularly like me, but you’re the only person who doesn’t walk away from me, so could you at least give me a reason that you suddenly started avoiding me?!” 
“...’m not avoiding you.” sanzu doesn’t know what to do right now; he’s never seen you angry like this before. typically, he would care less about the feelings of some random person like you, but for some reason the hurt in your voice makes him unusually unsure of himself. 
you scoffed at his lame excuse, rolling your eyes. 
“look! you’re trying to avoid me right now with elevator! seriously, can you just tell me what i did? i won’t do it again, i swear! just stop avoiding me!” 
“fuck, it’s not you!” sanzu suddenly said, his voice strained. “i’m just busy, okay?! you’re better off being friends with someone else.” 
“but you’re already my friend!! why don’t you want to keep talking to me??” sanzu ignored your words, his gaze staring straight ahead at the doors of the elevator, his stare so intense that you could almost think he was trying to open it telepathically. “hey!! can you just answer the damn question already, haruchiyo?!” 
“why do you need to know so fuckin’ badly?! i just said i’m busy!!” 
“because! i like you!” you yelled, your eyes seeming to get a bit watery. “and i know you don’t like me and that’s fine but i just want to be able to talk to you and see you sometimes, but now you’re always gone and i don’t know when you’re going to come back and it scares me! i just-” 
sanzu cut off your words, promptly stepping in front of you and slipping his hand behind your head, slamming his lips into yours. he’s not even sure himself why he did something stupid like this, especially when the whole reason he was avoiding you was because of his own flaws, but he couldn’t help himself when he heard you being so cute and worried over him, (seriously, how was he supposed to resist something like that?). 
it obviously took you off guard at first, but sanzu made sure you quickly realized what was going on, his mouth desperately pressing against yours. his kiss was rough but passionate, his lips moving quickly against yours as he pulled you closer to him, his other hand sliding around you to rest on the small of your back, (he’s doing it purely out of instinct; he hasn’t really thought about how he had been avoiding you for this very reason). 
a small ding! from the elevator grabs your attention, making you push him off of you as someone comes out from the elevator, glancing at the two of you a bit suspiciously before walking out of the building, leaving both of you in silence. 
“uh…wanna go to the convenience store for snacks…?”
˗ˏˋ𖤐ˎˊ˗
❥ it took a little bit for sanzu to open up to you about anything even a little bit, but once he did, you were able to figure him out pretty quickly, especially when he’d finally decided to be truthful about his actual profession, (bro does not work an office 9-5). due to all of this, it’s easy to tell that sanzu has a lot of issues, but it wasn’t something that you weren’t willing to work through with him!
❥ the two of you are the definition of black cat and golden retriever! you are always excited about everything and are taking him to all the cool and trendy places on dates while he is more quiet, keeping close to your side and watching everything with a careful eye, (especially people he defines as creeps, i.e. people who look at you for more than 0.2 seconds). 
❥ date wise, he is usually following your lead. he doesn’t have the slightest clue about what you think it romantic, so it will usually be you planning outings for the two of you. a lot of times he will complain about being tired and not wanting to go out, but don’t worry, he’s completely lying; he just thinks it’s cute when you whine and pull his arm asking him to come out with you. 
❥ despite the fact that he is not the most romantic guy, he does a lot of romantic things without realizing. he enjoys sending you your favorite flowers when you’re at work or staying at home while he’s at work, sending cute little notes along with them, (well, you think they are pretty cute). 
i think you like these ones. -h be ready by seven. wear something you feel good in. -h sorry i didn’t buy milk. there’s frozen waffles in the freezer. -h
❥ sanzu does a lot of those little things for you too; opening doors for you, pulling chairs out for you, taking things out of your hands when you’re carrying a lot, etc. it doesn’t seem like he’s the type to do things like this, but it’s because he isn’t the type to do it. he only does it for you, and he himself doesn’t even know why he does these things, (he’s head over heels in love with you, but in no universe will he ever actually admit that). 
❥ the most protective over you, and a little possessive too. he doesn’t control everything that you do, but he likes to have a clear-cut plan of everything you do on a normal day so that his mind is put at ease, (also so he can known when something is wrong). he won’t tell you this, but he has someone assigned to keeping an eye on your as you go about your day because he’s extremely paranoid that somebody from an opposing gang will try and come after you. he would prefer if he could by your side himself, but it’s the next best option, (he still sends frequent texts and calls you throughout the day to make sure everything is well). 
❥ the possessive part of him comes out more when he thinks people are hitting on you, (they really are just being nice; he’s just a little bit crazy…he loves you though!!). he doesn’t hesitate to slide his long arms all around you, letting you continue talking while he makes a deadly eye contact with the person, his face twisted in mild disgust as if he were looking down at a cockroach, (he’s mastered this expression somehow). he knows that you enjoy talking with people so he won’t keep you from doing so, but in the process he will make sure that everybody knows you’re his. 
❥ sanzu’s not the most affectionate person there is, but he is affectionate when he wants to be. there are times when he’ll come home and not say a word, just wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his head in the crook of your neck, mumbling something about having a terrible day. really, he just becomes a big baby when he’s like that, laying his lanky limbs all over you and claiming that he’s ‘recharging’. 
❥ it’s hard to label sanzu as an extrovert/introvert, since it can really depend on what mood he’s in and the situation. he’s more of an introvert in public settings with other people, (he doesn’t know how to interact nicely with people he doesn’t know) but when he’s with a majority of people he knows, he turns into more of an extrovert which matches with your energy quite nicely. 
❥ unintentionally, there comes a time when you accidentally get to meet the rest of his coworkers. it happened when they were dropping him back off at home after a night at the club and you’d had to come get him from the car because of how inebriated he was. 
“woah, you’re (y/n), huh?”  “oh, yes! it’s nice to meet you! you all must work with haru, right? please continue to take good care of him! would you like to come inside for a snack or some water?”  “...dude, what the fuck.”  “how the hell did he bag someone like that?!” 
❥ safe to say, they are all extremely shocked, (they never would have thought that someone like sanzu would be dating someone as sweet and talkative as you). the next day when he gets into work, he’s immediately hounded with all types of questions surrounding you and how the two of you started to date. 
“holy shit, is that why you were acting crazy a few months ago?!”  “i wasn’t acting fuckin’ crazy?!” “sanzu, you’re the craziest person here, and you started acting normal!! that was crazy!!” 
❥ after that, he makes sure that his associates never get to see you again, (“hey, bring your pretty lil thing around sometime!”, “i would rather kill you right now.”).
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meshlasolus · 6 months
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Your Beauty Never Ever Scared Me
Dbf!Joel Miller x College!Reader
A/n: Listen… I don’t have any excuse for ditching my other three active series except for tiktok made me do it… That, and the CLM series by @macfrog has ascended me to a new level of crazy and I just needed an outlet for it somewhere. Another shoutout to @theatrelove3000 who keeps putting up with my dbf joel shenanigans, they are indeed insane.
Warnings: girl this whole concept should be a warning but anyways… age gap, some fluff, light smut, uncomfortable situations with readers father… probably some editing mistakes bc ya girl is tired ok its 2am
Please be kind to this chapter, I actually like it, despite the horrors.
Decided on the song ‘Mary On A Cross‘ by Ghost for this one bc it fits ig.
MASTERLIST
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Age gap is approximately 15 years or so, reader is over 21 and joel is about 37
"I think I'd probably only slow'ya down," you chuckled, looking to Sarah who seemed to read the displeasure off your face from your dad's offer. "I'm studyin' to be an archeologist, dad. I don't know nothin' about framin' and all that house buildin'..."
Maybe it had been your dad's idea, but he wasn't the one who planted it into his own head. Joel subtly turned to you and cooly uttered a response.
"You could work on interior stuff with me."
It had been almost three days.
You looked out the window to the front of your house repeatedly to try and remember it clearly. The drive home, the kiss, and how abruptly it ended with a promise to see each other around. You thought about it so often you almost wondered if it happened the way you perceived it, if any details had been skewed in your mind simply because you wanted to keep it there, fresh, untouched. Maybe he thought of it differently... but maybe he didn't.
"Did you bring home the stuff I asked ya?" Your dad came into the kitchen with a smile, embracing you with a side hug and turning to help you unpack the groceries.
"Course' I did, Pa," you handed him the bag with the six-pack of bud and the other one full of snacks.
It was the first Rangers game night, and as per tradition, that meant the company of the next-door neighbors. It had been a while since you'd been around to enjoy it, but now that you were back, there were quite a few more reasons why you were on edge to now participate. It would look weird if you came up with an excuse not to be there, and you knew that. You also knrw that you'd gotten into a rather complicated entanglement with your father's closest friend, and weren't sure what the outcome really was.
Had that driveway light not spooked you both apart, and had that little black stray cat not made an appearance, how far would it have gone? Things were pretty heated, but even still. Would he have said something? Maybe along the lines of 'I've known you since you were sixteen, and this isn't appropriate at all.'
You didn't have time to think about it, you were set to work on helping your dad cook dinner for the soon-arriving neighbors. Dinner and a baseball game, once a relaxing and enjoyable time to bond with your dad, now turned into an anxiety fest where you were convinced you'd have to walk on pins and needles around every topic.
"So," your dad piped up from his silence at the stove, stirring the pot of chili he'd been prepping. "Joel told me he gave you a ride 'few nights back."
You knew it was harmless, and that he wasn't asking for any reason, other than that he was probably curious. You hadn't seen Joel in a while, not since two Christmases ago. Your dad had driven up to Dallas to spend both Thanksgiving and Christmas with you last year, and you didn't come home for summer break given an internship opportunity. You must have seemed different to the man in some way. All grown up.
"Yeah, gave me a ride n' saved me at the bar," you chuckled, trying to seem playful and unsuspicious about the encounter.
He seemed to be confused, his brows furrowed and a funny look on his face.
"Whad'ya mean he saved ya?" he of course was continuing to speak all the while dumping his favorite spices into the pot of chili, looking across here and now to keep engaged.
"Just scared off some weirdo who couldn't take no for an answer," you let a sweet and genuine smile fall across your features, but didn't let it get out of hand. Your relationship with your father was airtight, and he could read you pretty damn well. You weren't going to give anything away, not with what was potentially on the line.
"Glad he was there," he replied with a chuckle, sending you a soft glance. "Never thought you'd have grown up so fast, now I gotta carry a shotgun whenever we go places. Fend off the wild beasts."
His jokes were only so funny now, because in this situation, you knew he wouldn't hesitate to shoot Joel if he found out what had happened. All in the nature of protecting you, but it made you sad to think of the situation that way. Joel wasn't just another weirdo following you around at a bar.
"It's only because I'm so pretty," you did your best to respond lightheartedly, making a quip that would soothe the silence. "And I believe that's yours and Mama's fault, givin' me the genes and what not."
You'd finished chopping a nice garden salad by the time the doorbell rang. You ran upstairs to change your shirt to the Jersey your dad bought you for your birthday, claiming it was good luck for the team. Truth be told, you didn't wanna be downstairs when Joel and Sarah got here.
Sarah was here, too. Her, you could easily handle. You were almost hoping that she would be in a rather talkative mood, that way the attention could be swayed to her inconspicuously. You doubted Joel would even try to talk to you, anyway.
"Lovebug, come on down, Millers are here!" Your dad shouted up, even though he saw you run upstairs right when the doorbell rang to change your shirt.
"I'm comin', hold on," you replied sassily while heading for the staircase.
You got to the bottom and had to take a breath before turning the corner into the entryway. Joel stood there with a sweet smile to you, and you tried your best to hold back the one you wore. It was too bright, too happy to see him. All despite your nerves.
You were quickly embraced by Sarah, whom you paid immediate attention to.
"My lordy, girl," you held up your hand by your shoulder to show the height difference, "last time I saw you, you must've been this tall."
"Dad tells me I'm growing like a weed," she tossed a finger over her shoulder to where he was standing, and you gave him a small glance and a smile.
"Us daughters do have a tendency to grow up," you laughed, slinging an arm around Sarah and pulling her along to the kitchen as your dad and Joel did the same behind you.
Why had you been so anxious? Joel is happy to see you. He makes causal conversation with your dad, but he catches your eye every chance he gets. His expression doesn't change, except for the tug of his lips in a smile that's barely there. Joel doesn't smile too often, except apparently when you and Sarah are around.
It doesn't take long for everyone to get situated with their food at the table, playful banter between Joel and your father filling the air as you made less rambunctious chatter with Sarah.
She's doing pretty well since last you saw her. She was always a bright girl, but as she grew it became more apparent that she would probably excel further than anyone in her graduating class. You were sitting across from a future valedictorian, you were sure.
You'd tried to ask her about her out of school interests before your dad interrupted with a question.
"How about you, lovebug?" He watched your eyes flick over to him with a turn of your head. He added context, given you hadn't been listening to them earlier. "Are you gonna look for a summer job?"
You really should, if you're being honest. There's not much work in your aspiring profession located here, but you weren't as lucrative as you used to be, given your educational expenses.
"I've thought about it," you tilted your head back and forth, and your dad seemed to need more from your answer. "I need to earn some cash before I get back to Dallas, but I'm not really sure where to apply."
Sarah seemed to know where this was going before you did. She'd been around the last time your dad was begging Joel to find some help for the contracting team they worked with. But surely your dad doesn't expect you to build houses, does he? Your dream job is to dig holes in the ground, not fill them in and put homes on top.
"We got some spaces to fill, you should come work with us 'few months. The pay's good and you don't have to stay on long, probably just till the end of July."
You gave him a look, and he instantly knew you weren't interested, but you figured you'd try and justify your reasoning. It was an argument either way.
"I think I'd probably only slow'ya down," you chuckled, looking to Sarah who seemed to read the displeasure off your face from your dad's offer. "I'm studyin' to be an archeologist, dad. I don't know nothin' about framin' and all that house buildin'..."
Maybe it had been your dad's idea, but he wasn't the one who planted it into his own head. Joel subtly turned to you and cooly uttered a response.
"You could work on interior stuff with me."
Did he just-?
"S'not much more fun than what your dad's been doin,' but at least it's out of the sun, and easier to learn."
You were almost dumbfounded. Your dad offering you a job that potentially could give you heat stroke with your lack of experience seemed like the worst idea in the world... but working on interior projects? With Joel of all people? Well, that didn't sound so bad.
You didn't want your dad to catch on, of course. Being so protestant of his suggestion, but then falling right into it as soon as Joel was the one to offer would be a dead giveaway to some sort of favoritism to his best buddy. It simply wouldn't look right.
"What kinda interior stuff?"
He smirked. The motherfucker was smirking. He knew you'd changed your mind, but couldn't exactly just come out with it. He understood, but it was still slightly amusing to him.
"Flooring, cabinets, countertops... 's things like that," he explained, knowing you really didn't care what all it entailed. He was still happy to play along. "S'not as fun as archeology, but it pays alright."
You nodded, acting as though you were turning the thoughts over in your head.
"Well, if you're sure I won't mess it up, I'd be happy to try it out," was your final response. You figured it left some leeway in case your father became suspicious, but gave a good enough answer to end the conversation on.
"That's my girl," your dad clapped a hand on your shoulder in excitement. Truth be told he would very much enjoy your presence on a work site. "I'll go ahead and call Eddie in the morning, let 'im know I found someone to replace Charlie for interiors."
It was said more to Joel, you figured, because you didn't really know who either of those people were. He'd nodded to your dad, taking a sip of his beer and then looking back to you. You smiled sweetly, nobody catching it but the one it was meant for.
"Game's gonna start soon," Joel spoke aloud, drawing everyone's eye to the clock over the stove.
Sarah cleared her throat before jumping in on the conversation.
"About that," she looked to her dad with the same puppy dog eyes she used to use against you. He was just as poor at saying no to her when she pulled those bad boys out. "Sammy texted me to ask if it's okay to stay over at her place tonight?"
Joel sighed. He knew that no matter the attempts he made for her to like baseball, it wasn't her thing. It was summer vacation, and he had no reason to say no, so he didn't.
"Is she coming to pick you up?" He began, fishing his keys out of his pocket to drive her if need be. The girl lived five minutes away, he'd be back only a few minutes after the game started, but he didn't really want to leave.
"I can ask her," she pulled her phone back out of her jeans, opened her screen, and checked her messages.
"No need, I can take you," your voice rang out, standing from the table and taking your bowl to the sink. It was a genuine offer, but it was also to get out of the house and process what just happened with the job situation.
Joel was the first one to stand up with you.
"You don't have to-"
"It's fine," you cut him off, leaving no room for discussion. It was lucky he liked you, otherwise, Joel Miller might have put up quite the argument for such a small dilemma. As was his way, of course. He huffed, but accepted he had been overruled.
"Thanks, then." It was mumbled, but there was gratitude in it.
"We gotta hop over to ours real quick and grab my stuff," Sarah told you, waiting for you to return from the kitchen before beginning to head out through the front door. You'd grabbed your keys off where they hung on the wall before going behind her.
"I'll be back soon," you called over your shoulder into the house, and got a chirped 'alright' reply from your dad.
You walked out passed your driveway, seeing the light flicker on as you both went passed the censor on the ground.
"Y'know, I didn't think you'd have caved so fast on that job thing." She had piped up once you were almost to her porch. You found it only slightly funny that she chose the exact topic which had been swirling in your mind since it happened.
"Not sure I really wanna do it, but your dad made it sound better than every time my dad's talked about it, guess he just convinced me," you chuckled, playing it off in a way that she absolutely was about to use against you.
"That's another thing," she turned to you as she backed into the house through the door, only turning once she was inside. "Since when are you friends with my dad?"
She said it in a joking tone, but having known a few things she didn't about interactions that occurred between you and her father, you felt constricted to answer seriously. Probably with a lie if need be.
"I've always gotten along with your dad," you gave her a confused look, accompanied after by a playful smile.
She grabbed her backpack and opened it, checking to make sure she'd taken all the school stuff out before starting to shove things in, her charger, headphones, etc.
"Yeah but... you're just all young and cool and stuff," she shrugged, turning around to walk towards the staircase. "My dad is all old and boring and only talks about baseball."
"Thirty-seven isn't old, babe. My dad is two years from fifty, and I don't even think he's old, yet. Boring? Maybe..." you reasoned, hearing her laugh before she sprinted up the stairs, giving you time to think of some answers before she asked any more questions. Had she really caught onto you that fast? You didn't think you'd acted noticeably. If Sarah was able to see it, then maybe your dad did, too. You needed to be more careful, in that case.
Sarah returned a few minutes later, her backpack now stuffed and her pillow under her arm. You nodded out the door and headed back to your driveway to open the door for her, seeing as though her hands were full.
-
The drive after Sarah had been dropped off felt so much longer. Maybe it was just your thoughts, or maybe you consciously drove slower to avoid getting home too quickly. Your dad was waiting, but above that, Joel was there, too. Probably sitting back on the leather couch, relaxing with his feet kicked out on the floor. He usually leaned onto the armrest with his elbow, and held his face against the hand it supported. You'd noticed it years ago. He only ever spoke up when your dad did, usually in reply to him.
He was content simply watching the game in the presence of a friend. It was endearing.
When you pulled into the driveway, you had come up with an excuse to not remain downstairs for the duration of the game. It was too risky, and you weren't apparently as good with self-control as you'd thought you were.
You went inside and hung up your keys on the hook, immediately passing the living room on the way to the stairs.
"Hey, lovebug, you missed the top of the first," your dad called. He knew you liked baseball, so if you were to lie and say you didn't want to watch, he'd know something was up.
"Y'know, pa, I think I'm just gonna watch it upstairs, I forgot I still got some stuff to unpack," you peaked your head into the room to respond, and saw that Joel, just as you had pictured, was sitting in his most usual position on the couch, feet out on the floor, arm up with a hand holding the side of his face.
"Can't you do it later?" Your dad pleaded, but you knew, seeing as how your father occupied the recliner, you would have no where else to sit but on the floor or next to Joel. You didn't trust yourself with that.
"I could, but I might fall asleep if I wait too long."
He sighed, throwing an arm in your direction and shooing you away. He wasn't annoyed, but he'd admit he missed watching these games with you. It had been like a tradition, but if Sarah wasn't here either, he wasn't gonna make you stick around.
"Sure you don't wanna stick around? We could use your lucky jersey down here," Joel piped up, lifting his face from his hand and giving you a pair of soft eyes. That was exactly the reason you would not be staying. He didn't even realize how much he affected you, but you'd make sure he did at some point. Maybe you could just tease him a little.
"You're right, it would be a shame to take the lucky jersey with me."
You walked behind your dad's chair, out of his sight, and tauntingly stripped the jersey over your head, revealing the tight black tank top beneath it, just like that night at the bar. Joel's jaw clenched and his eyes turned darker, even under the bright light of the flatscreen in the living room. You never took your eyes away from his as you slung him the jersey.
"Hey pa, can I get you anything from the kitchen before I go upstairs?" You leaned over the back of his recliner, looking at him upside down. He chuckled and shook his head, trying to move your hair from obstructing his vision.
"We're all good, lovebug," he spoke in addition to his physical response, his laughter dying down as you stood back up. "Come on down if you change your mind."
"I'll probably be down later," you spewed a half-lie. You weren't sure if you would be or not, especially if Joel was still lurking in the living room.
You gave those brown eyes one last look before heading straight upstairs.
You grabbed your remote and flicked on the TV. It was already on the right channel, so you tossed the remote aside onto your bed and flopped back into it. You didn’t actually have anything left to unpack, but they would never have known.
Your phone buzzed beside you, and you lifted the screen to your face to see a text from an unsaved number:
Missin you down here…
You’d never put Joel in your contacts, because in highschool, your friends thought it was weird to even text or call him regularly, but you had his number for years, always just as a backup. You’d known it by heart, now, and nearly had it memorized back then, too, for the times you needed his help.
I’d come back if there was an open seat.
A bit sassy of a response, maybe, but you were hoping he’d understand the hidden meaning behind it… Although, Joel didn’t usually pick up on those things very easily.
Open seat right next to me
Yeah, that’s why I’m up here…
You huffed, realizing it wouldn’t be that easy. The three little dots indicating his next response was on the way slightly nerved you. Maybe he took the last text you sent the wrong way. You didn’t mean it to sound badly.
What’s that supposed to mean?
Means that I can’t keep my hands to myself.
You quickly rectified the situation, although you might have gone too far. He was taking far too long to answer, now. The little dots that before nerved you would now be your saving grace if it meant he would just fucking respond, already. You dropped the phone on your chest, raising up and down in a scattered rhythm while you wiped your hands over your face. Your phone vibrated over your shirt and you immediately opened it.
I can’t either. Stay up there.
You breathed out a sigh of relief. He was thinking the same things you were, and likely was under more stress for it, given he sat right across from your dad, responding to his comments about the game here and there. Your dad had no idea what was happening right under his nose.
Wasn’t thinking about leavin.
This little back and forth went on, the majority of the game, in fact. It was more-so about the plays then on, because you didn’t have anyone to talk to up here.
Joel thought it a bit funny, your dad would say something oddly specific about one of the players, and then you’d text him right after saying the exact same thing. You’d been a product of watching baseball with your old man for just about ever.
“I’m thinking about gettin’ some tickets over the summer for a game or two. They’re always cheaper in them group packages, you n’ Sarah should come along,” your dad was barely paying any attention to the words he spoke, but they came flowing out anyway, clear and cool. “Could be fun.”
Joel knew that there was only so much group interaction he could handle with you, and you with him. It stands to why you’re upstairs, an he’s down here, fist wrapped tightly around your lucky jersey. All out of your father’s sight, of course.
“It could be. Don’t think Sarah’s much for baseball anymore, though.”
He’d hoped that your dad would drop it. Halfway through his third beer, he hoped the man was a little more than tipsy, and maybe didn’t even mean the words he was saying.
“Doesn’t mean you can’t still tag along,” your dad was definitely still sober enough to keep it up, although the way he spoke became slower. Maybe he was getting sleepy.
“I’ll think about it.”
His response was followed by a hum, then a lull of silence that endured the rest of the game. He sat all the while and thought about his predicament a bit more.
He couldn’t stop thinking about you. It was insane… like you’d leeched yourself to the inner workings of his mind and he wouldn’t be able to pull you off without hurting himself, too. You were just upstairs, and had been texting him. You were within his vicinity, and yet… so unreachable.
He’d wished for you to be down here, or for him to be up there with you. Obviously, that wouldn’t go too well with the man sitting next to him, but he’d be asleep soon. If he could just touch you again, just kiss you one more time, maybe his cravings would be satisfied and he could go about his days… but what would happen if he kept feeling the addictive urge to do more? What if he was never satiated enough to quit you?
The game was called, and you’d texted him a small ‘victory’ at seeing the Rangers had won.
It was wrong, and the presence of his friend beside him was a constant reminder that you were his kid, and he would have a final say. Even though you were an adult, he understood this was completely taboo, and you should be off with guys your own age... but he’s made up his mind about the thoughts spinning in his head.
He didn’t respond, though. Your dad stood up out of his chair, his arms stretching outwards with a loud yawn as he took a few steps forwards, clapping his hand down on Joel’s shoulder.
“I hate to kick you out…” your father joked, a low and tired chuckle under his words.
“It’s alright, I got some stuff to sort out anyway.”
They started making their way towards the door when light but fast footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs.
Joel turned quickly, a smile on his lips and in his eyes when he saw you trying to catch your breath after sprinting down here.
“Leavin’ already?”
They both laughed heartily. As if Joel hadn’t been here almost three hours, most of which you spent upstairs. Your heart was beating far too fast for your liking, but there didn’t seem to be a way to stop it. Now that you were present again, in the room with him, you didn’t know what else to do.
“Your dad’s half asleep as it is, if I stay any longer I’ll send ‘im into hibernation,” Joel’s response made you giggle softly, although you withheld most of the laughter, because in all honestly, it wasn’t that funny, and you needed to learn to control yourself.
“He’ll be over next week, we’ll talk about gettin’ you into that job.”
You nodded, turning back to Joel as your dad opened the front door. What were you supposed to do? You couldn’t hug him, could you? That’s too much… maybe just wave, or maybe-
He held his hand out… for you to shake it. A hand-shake. Yeah, sure, fine.
You shook it, but he pulled you in half way, tapping your back once and then letting go.
He just bro hugged you. This man just-
He turned and did the same to your dad, giving you one last glimpse as he stepped out the door. Your dad closed it behind him and you were almost clean out of words to say. That had to have been the strangest interaction you’ve had.
“I’m beat, love-bug. I’m gonna head to bed,” he slung an arm around your neck and kissed the top of your head before turning and going down the hall to the stairs. “Don’t be up too late.”
“I won’t, just got a few things to do.”
You waited approximately ten more seconds before running to the garage door, going as quickly and as quietly as you could through to your front yard. Joel was still on his porch when you got out there, but was about to go inside.
You ran out to the sidewalk in font of his house and called out to him, all the while still barefoot.
“Hey Miller,” you crossed your arms, watching him turn around and lean in one direction. “Did you just bro-hug me? Or did I imagine that?”
He stepped closer to the edge of the porch, leaning against one of the wooden beams closest to him.
You slowly walked up to him, tilting your head to side as you observed his stance. he looked rather good. Hair tousled, body adorning a black t-shirt and some dark jeans. He was a sight, even in the dark light of the neighborhood.
“I reckon I oughta’ try again?”
"Seems like the fair thing to do."
“You’re takin’ your sweet time, baby,” he irked, grabbing gently under your elbow and pulling you up onto to porch once you were close enough.
You smiled to him, and wrapped your arms round his neck, over his broad shoulders. He pulled you close, tucking a head into your shoulder. The anxiousness you felt before fell apart, the rapid beating of your heart slowed, because you were comfortable. You felt immense peace in his arms like you’ve never felt before.
He backed away too soon, but still kept you relatively close to him.
“Was that better?”
“Yeah, I’d say so.”
There was a moment of silence, of contemplation, but it wasn’t stiff, and it wasn’t awkward. It was just there, a nice and pleasant quiet, and you standing still with Joel Miller on his porch.
“You wanna come inside a while?”
Sarah wasn’t home, and wouldn’t be till morning. Your dad was probably passed out in bed by now, leaving the opportunity completely open. You had nothing to lose, no risk to be had.
“Yeah, I think I will.”
He didn’t let you go, he just walked you both backwards until he was able to reach the door, reaching with one hand to open it before stepping slightly to the side to allow you entrance first.
“Ever the gentlemen,” you smiled, walking inside before he followed you in.
“Gotta make up for all that nonsense earlier,” he closed the door, taking your hand and walking to the kitchen. He pulled out a stool at his counter and let your hand fall to your side as he made his way to the fridge.
He pulled out two beers and uncapped them with the tool hanging on the side of his fridge. You think you remember your dad buying it for his birthday one year. You can remember sitting in this exact seat many times before, actually. Never alone, though. Never just you and Joel, and nobody else near.
He slid you one beer an you smiled at him in thanks, taking a sip.
“Last time you had one of these, I didn’t know if you liked it or not,” he gestured to his own bottle, drinking some and setting it down on the counter.
“I don’t know, I think it’s growing on me.”
He looked straight to you, leaning both hands on the edge of the counter. You leaned forward, mimicking his more stern face of features before he said anything else.
“I didn’t wanna say so with your dad around, but you look awful pretty tonight,” he spoke the compliment smoothly, but he had to drop his head after he said it. Seemed that giving you compliments alone in the night was something of a struggle for him, since he was blushing still even when he looked back to you.
“I seem to be feelin’ a lot prettier as of late whenever I’m around you. Think you’re just good for my self esteem,” you paused, leaning back onto the stool to take a drink of your beer. “That, or it's just nice to be complimented by a handsome guy like yourself.”
He didn’t seem to believe you. His scoff was loud and heard immediately after your compliment returned to him.
“You think I’m handsome?”
He’d always thought he was average. Maybe even slightly below. As he got older, that notion grew until he felt that maybe he was beyond trying for a woman on behalf of his looks. Perhaps there were women from time to time that would agree to a date, but there were none since Sarah’s mom who actually stuck around, not until you… but you were different as far as relationships go, because technically, you shouldn’t even be considering one with him.
“Absolutely, I do. Why wouldn’t I?” You were curious, because he was clearly attractive. Maybe you’d spent too much time around the more traditionally preferred young men in dallas, but something about Joel intrigued you that never did with anyone else. Maybe it was the forbidden aspect of what you two were doing, but before that, it was something else. He was rough and rugged, and good looking in a mature way that the boys your age couldn’t mimic if they tried. Those dark brown eyes with little crows feet at the edges every time he smiled were a dead give away to his age, but it was so appealing somehow.
“Don’t know. Guess I’m just old,” he spoke, trying to hide the insecurities that phrasing brought about. He was too old for you, he shouldn’t be sitting here with you you alone and calling you pretty, and yet…
“Maybe that’s a good thing. Too many boys my age are still very immature these days.” And it was very much true. Too young, too immature, and too stupid to see what’s in front of them and really appreciate it. Older men have a tendency to take care of the things they have, because they know that with time they can lose them.
“That so?”
“Mhm.”
“They don’t even realize what their missin’ out on, do they?”
You shook your head in reply. Nope. Not a single one of the younger guys you’ve dated has treated you with the care you know he could. He’s always treated you with care, before… why would that change now?
“They probably figure there’s a million girls linin’ up after me that they can take a shot at,” you raised your eyebrows and drank some more. Maybe it was just a thought of some past experiences, but this beer was tasting better and better to you.
“I pity them,” he said nonchalantly, without really thinking about it.
“Who, the girls? I mean, I kinda feel bad, but other times, I think we all know what we’re getting ourselves into n’ we just try to ignore the red flags.”
It was meant as a joke, but he was being genuinely serious.
“No, the guys. I pity ‘em.”
“Oh, do you?”
“I do,” he nodded, thinking of the right words to say. “They lost you, didn’t they? Biggest mistake of their lives and they didn’t even know. Pity ‘em just for that.”
You didn’t know what to say. You figured the wide smile you wore was doing a fine enough job, but he wasn’t looking like he had anything else to voice yet.
“You think I’m somethin’ special, Joel Miller?”
He set his bottle down on the counter and walked around it to stand right in front of your barstool. He took both your hands and pulled them to his chest, just holding them there and looking to you with the sweetest expression you’ve ever seen from him. He’s so different than what you remember in your earlier years. He used to be so stoic and serious. Sometimes even a little grumpy. Guess time changes things.
“I wouldn’t be gettin’ myself into sum’ this crazy if I thought anything else,” he mumbled it almost, but he definitely meant it. His words rang true in every aspect of the implications they made. This was crazy, it was very unlikely in the first place, but even still, it was happening. Neither of you backed down, neither of you said no.
“If it helps, I happen to think you’re pretty damn special, too.”
He didn’t respond, just leaned closer towards you, nudging his nose against yours, before letting your lips meet in a kiss. it washed rushed and hazy like the last time. It wasn’t forceful or fast or anything of that sort. It was gentle, and it was meaningful. All the years he’d known you, but never like this. You knew this attraction was new, but it was still real. You wondered how many women pined after him over the years, only for you to now gage his attention when clearly no one else did. The man’s been single since Sarah’s mom left, and otherwise, you didn’t know him to be much of a ‘dating around’ kinda guy. Standing here with him, now, you felt such excitement in knowing he’d pursue you, the off limits woman, over anyone else. It was a true victory, or at least you thought so, sitting on a stool in his kitchen while he kissed you softly, his thumbs going over the backs of your hands that still lingered in his.
When the kiss broke, you inhaled deeply, the scent of him so close to you, surrounding you. He was like a warm blanket you just pulled out of the dryer. He was comforting, and soft, and his skin was currently hot to the touch. You could only hope that you had something to do with that.
“Baby,” he breathed, hands letting go of yours and finding a new home at your waist. You left your hands on his chest, feeling his heart rate fluctuating. “Gotta know something before this goes any further…”
You hummed in response, still trying to even your breath intake. He backed away a few inches to be able to look you in the eyes correctly. He’d spent enough time with you in the past to know if you were telling the truth, and he was going to use it just this once to his advantage.
“What we’re doin’, you sure you’re okay with it?” He knew better than to jump into this without clarification. “Don’t want you feelin’ pressured if you’re not.”
“I want this,” you spoke softly, just loud enough that he could hear. “Promise.”
You had thought you’d been the instigator to this, if memory serves you correctly. Even still, you know now that whatever happens, he won’t take it somewhere you don’t want it to go. This show of good faith was something you could put trust in him over. He’s a good one, you always knew that.
And again his lips were on yours, differently this time. It was a bit more hasty and fervent like the first time, but there was still something different from then that you couldn’t quite decipher.
You absent-mindedly opened your legs and he instantly came between them, letting your bodies become flush with one another. His hands ran up and down your sides, every once and a while dipping to your hips and somewhere below on your thighs.
There was a heat between them that you didn’t realize was there until he came so close to touching it. He never actually did, though, and you were both endeared by and upset about it. He was the one making that heat spread, he can’t just leave it there… but he’s testing his limits, and you think it’s respectful that he is.
He doesn’t want to cross any lines… as if this entire entanglement has not already done that. This situation in every sense of the definition, has crossed the line. Him hugging you that tightly on his porch, him inviting you in after dark when it’s only you and him alone, having a beer with some very personal conversation, and now making out with you in his kitchen. They all crossed the line of what should happen between a man and his best friend’s daughter.
“Tell me to stop,” he mumbled against your mouth, almost as if reading your mind. His hand on your thigh drifted between your legs, just barely caressing the heated pool sitting there, waiting for him. It was still very reserved, and you had to buck against his hand for more friction, but at least it was something.
The taste of him somehow made it worse, the feeling growing inside you without an end in sight. The arousal was evident, but you weren’t sure he would be able to do anything about it, yet. You could tell it was weighing on his mind, what was okay for him to do, and what wasn’t. You would beg him if you had to, you just needed more.
He had an idea, one that could allow both of you to explore this dynamic easier, and one that could potentially keep him from overstepping like he was afraid to.
He removed his hands only for a minute, bringing yours up and over his shoulders before he settled his back down below your ass.
“Hold on,” he told you, lifting you from the seat and walking until he got to the living room. From there, he let the space guide him until the back of his knees hit the edge of the couch. He sat almost abruptly, and when you relaxed your weight onto him, you felt the stirring between his legs as well. You moaned into his mouth at the mere size and feeling of it, beginning to slowly grind down onto him. He encouraged your movements, and used his hands to guide your hips as you went, back and forth, getting into a rhythm.
“That’s it, baby,” he praised, tearing himself away for a moment to expel his breath from his lungs at the new feeling. Your head fell against his, and suddenly it was the movement of your lower half taking you over.
He let his hands move over your body a bit more freely, now, but still careful not to make any harsh movements, or grab in places he felt he shouldn’t linger too long. He knew you wanted this, but something inside him questioned how comfortable you really felt… that was until you started doing the same, roaming his body with your delicate touch, making him feel like the most important man in the world. You could have sworn you marked the exact moment he snapped, rolling his hips upwards into yours shamelessly. It was so deliciously addicting, the feeling of his body pleasing yours, and vice versa. His rough and sturdy hands, though still gentle, ravished any part of you available to him.
The air between you was hot and thick, and you could swear that by breathing it in, you were drawing even more arousal into your body.
The motions kept going until there was a quickening of pace brought on by you both simultaneously. You couldn’t mark a distinction of when it increased, you just knew that the speed you were going wasn’t where you started. All you could think of was that your spend was fast approaching, and you wondered if his was, too.
“Gettin’ close,” you murmured, barely able to get the words out for the moans that slipped passed your lips. “M’gonna…”
He heard you, and understood. Truth be told, he’d started getting hard since that moment on the porch, so this was just nothing but sweet relief to him. He kept on, trying to meet you at your finish.
“Let go , baby.”
You had no qualms about being told twice when it came to him. You gave it up easily, the muscles in your body contracting when you felt the wash of utter ease through every inch of you. He tensed beneath you, but relaxed with a groan of relief right after, and you could feel his length twitch in his jeans.
You just dry-humped Joel Miller on his couch. Like a horny teenager. What the fuck.
The dawn of realization was cut short by his hand softly coercing the back of your neck, bring your lips back for him to claim as he did earlier. Soft, and gentle, no rush, no heat. Just that feeling between you both that started this mess.… and it was indeed a mess.
“You wanna stay over?”
-
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notjustjavierpena · 9 months
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First: Time
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A/N: Part of my “first”-series with dilf!joel! 
Summary: You go to IKEA to buy a new bed, but after getting Joel to assemble your new piece of furniture. it somehow also ends up being the first time you have sex. 
Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)
Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), Joel hates IKEA, reader is overthinking, domestic fluff, Joel is lovely, pussy eating, creampie, unprotected piv sex, cute sex!!! Fluff!!! Filth!!
Word count: 4.6k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48689506/chapters/123842593#workskin
First: Time
Since the kiss on your front porch, Joel has taken every opportunity to press his lips against yours when nobody has been around to see. Making out is so easy, uncomplicated in the sense that it isn’t hard to find out what the other likes, but there’s always something stirring beneath the surface when you feel Joel’s cock start to harden against your stomach. It makes you pull away and come up with excuses, and Joel takes it politely when you reject him.
You aren’t inexperienced, but for some reason, Joel Miller, certified hot neighbor, and possible boyfriend, makes you nervous. 
Even more so when he suggests joining you on an outing to buy you a new bed like he has a say in which one you’ll choose. Your old one barely made it across the country in the moving truck, the old bed frame creaking so loudly that you were scared that it would splinter and land you in a claim of compensation with the moving company.
Additionally, it’s simply terrible to sleep in, and when it had finally broken its last proper spring, you’d settled for a month on something that resembled a military cot. Not ideal for you back. Not ideal for inviting Joel Miller over.
“Sarah ain’t home anyway,” he had said, “And with how that stepladder turned out… You probably need someone to assemble it, so ya don’t end up on the floor, sweetheart.” 
Sweetheart. Sweetheart sweetheart sweetheart. What easier way was there to get you to say yes? 
*
And so you find yourself in an IKEA not long after. Joel wants to play the gentlemen, pushing your cart around the furniture store, but he seems tired of it when you keep adding unnecessary bibs and bobs as you are forced to walk down the fixed path design. You ignore his tiny grunts, knowing that he would be more suited for powering through the halls than stopping every goddamn second.
“Ain’t this cute?” You ask as you show him a kitchen container that’s shaped like a flower. 
“Very,” he replies without the same enthusiasm. 
“What about this? I should totally get these,” you go on as you reach the cutlery and glasses, showing him a set of brass coffee scoops. 
“Sure,” he answers, but he isn’t really listening. 
Eventually, you reach the section of pillows, blankets, and bedding. He wants to go straight to the rows of beds along the wall and surrounding the path on the floor, but you grab at the end of your cart to steer him towards the linens. 
“I feel like I should get some new bedding to go along with the new bed, don’t you think?” You scan the different patterns and colors. Joel hums beside you, clearly lost in his thoughts despite being the one who suggested coming along. 
“Yeah, I really think this lilac set would look fantastic against my skin when you fuck me,” you say without any suggestive tone to your voice, then wait.
“Sure wou—“ Joel takes a second, nearly snapping his neck as he quickly turns towards you to look at you. He splutters, “Wait, what?”
“What?” You smile too innocently, “I didn’t say anything. I just said that these would look fantastic with my bedroom walls. Honestly, Joel, you should listen more.”
Joel narrows his eyes at you, parking your shared cart that he has nothing of his own in. He walks towards you again and God, you want to kiss him as he smirks at you, “You’re playin’ with me.”
“Not at all,” you say with a soft giggle as he looks around for other people, who, luckily, are nowhere to be seen, before kissing you in the middle of the store. You wrap your arms around his neck as his own comes around your waist. 
It only takes a moment for him to pull back. You miss him the second that he is gone, though instead of going back to your cart again, he scans the room once more and then grabs at the hem of your jeans. 
“What’re you—?” You look down with surprise and a pulsating feeling between your legs. 
“I’m so fuckin’ bored, let’s just go do what we’re here for,” he yanks at the front of your jeans and steers you towards the row of beds. Your head swims and your legs try to follow wherever he tugs you. 
“O-okay, yes, alright,” you stutter. 
Joel only lets go when you choose the first bed to try out. You try to concentrate on the design as you run a hand over the material, but the grasp Joel has just had on your clothes makes you wonder if it translates into the bedroom. Fuck, you need a bed. 
Unfortunately, you are also very picky; too soft, too hard, bad design, bad bed frame design, made of plastic, not convincing enough to look like wood.
“How do you like this one?” You ask as you lay down on the millionth bed with Joel. It’s the first one that has some potential. You wiggle to get comfortable, looking at him out of the corner of your eye. 
“No,” he simply replies, turning onto his side to face you. You turn your head, not daring to mirror his position. 
“Right, let’s hear it, Mr. Miller, what’s the verdict of this possible contender?” You sigh dramatically. 
“First of all, ’m not the picky one here. We’ve had some fine contenders,” he points out and makes you smile, “But this one? Wouldn’ trust that bed frame, the headboard.”
“And what has the headboard done?” You roll your eyes.
“Nothing, but I’d for sure have you break it. We need somethin’ sturdier.”
Your breath catches in your throat and you’re sure that every drop of blood in your body goes down between your thighs. 
*
Eventually, you arrive home with a bed that has a name that you are unable to pronounce and a Joel who tells you not to disturb him as he assembles said bed with a difficult name. 
You try protesting against being left out of the project, but Joel reminds you of the stepladder massacre from the day that you had met, making you shut your mouth and pout prettily in your living room. 
He leaves your house briefly to get his power drill from his garage, and you practically froth around the mouth at the idea of him power drilling his way to fixing up a new bed for you. If only he’d allowed you to join him, so you could’ve at least silently watched and admired him from the other side of the room. The images that flood your mind are as relentless as Joel’s comment about your new bed’s headboard. 
When he eventually comes into the living room, he takes your hand and leads you through the house to show you his masterpiece.
“One new bed for the lady, even put the mattress on,” Joel says, stopping in the doorway to your bedroom. You look up at him with a smile and kiss him softly. He is warm, slightly sweaty after working in the August heat. 
“Thank you, Joel,” you say against his lips, and there it goes again. You wrap your arms around him and he cups your face, and then you kiss like your lives depend on it and stop just as things start to get heated. 
“No, don’t,“ Joel mutters quietly as you try to pull away, not letting you as he starts tugging a little at your hips, “Don’t run away from me again.”
“Mhmm… okay,” you hum and find his lips once more, but you pull away as soon as you can feel the hard bulge of his cock underneath his jeans. God, you want him, but he has no idea how much that scares you too. What if you lose him right after? What if you can’t be what he needs? Oh God, what if it’s bad? Nothing is better than disappointment. 
Joel furrows his brow in confusion and then takes a step back from you to look at you properly, “Is something wrong? Did I do something?” 
“What? No! No, of course not,” you run a hand over your forehead and through your hair, letting out a sigh that’s followed by an embarrassed chuckle, “I promise. It’s just...”
Joel has crossed his arms over his chest like he usually does when he is expecting bad news, probably a rejection in this case. You hate yourself for making him feel like he needs his guard up.
“I’m shitting my pants here, Miller, look at you,” you groan with brutal honesty at the tip of your tongue. He raises a brow at your choice of words, but doesn’t interrupt you, “Haven’t you ever wanted something so badly and then been afraid of getting it in case you’ve piled the expectations too high?” 
Joel shifts his weight from side to side for a moment. He doesn’t say anything to you for what seems like minutes but is, in reality, nothing more than ten seconds. 
“Can’t say I’m not jus’ a lil’ hurt that you think you’ll be disappointed by now,” he finally replies without looking at you, tapping his fingers on his arm.
“I just meant that I want it to be perfect and there’s no way I’m going to be perfect and then I’ll worry if I disappoint you,” you confess. 
You hear him scoff in disbelief at your postulate like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard, “Sure, I’m definitely gonna turn ya down after gettin’ in bed with you and knowin’ you probably wanna do it again in the near future.”
“I’m sorry, Joel,” it does sound pretty ridiculous. You step towards him again, tugging at his arms to uncross them until you can walk into them. You look up at him through your lashes with an apologetic smile, “I don’t think you know just how much I think about your hands touching me.”
Joel’s offense is gone from his face in mere seconds, “Yeah?”
“Oh yeah,” you confirm with a little newfound confidence. There’s something good about having told him your concern, putting it out there for him to do with it what he wants despite how badly you want the ability to read minds right now. You decide to stroke his ego a little, “With your job? I bet you know how to use them.” 
“Then lemme show you, baby. I’m great with my hands,” he kisses your lips again, but only briefly, following it up with descending down your neck. You let him for the first time, tilting your head to the side to give him more access and shivering at the feel of his nose bumping along your carotid artery. 
You hold onto him as he backs you further into the room, shoving down the instinct, caused by anxiety, to make him stop once again. Just let yourself have this, you try to remind yourself, don’t overthink it. You’re cute. He is sexy. He wants you.
“Tell me whatcha like,” he says as he guides you across the floor that’s scattered with cardboard and tools, “Maybe decidin’ what we’re doing will calm you a little.”
“Uh, it’s been a while,” you suddenly feel the edge of your newly acquired bed hit the back of your knees and make you fall onto it. Looking up at him from this angle makes your pulse quicken, your blood going straight to your clit and making it throb behind your denim jeans. 
“Or not. Should I list suggestions?” He asks, sinking to his knees on the floor at the end of the bed. You spread your legs a little without thinking and he smirks at you as if you’ve lost a bet, “I could eat your pussy. Would ya like that?”
You moan at the mere words.
“Need to hear you say it,” Joel’s hands are on the hem of your jeans like they had been in the middle of Ikea. He does quick work of undoing them, but not pulling them down just yet, “Say yes, baby.”
“Yes, fuck, I want that,” you have to stare up at the ceiling again to keep your composure. You have a feeling that none of your expectations have ever been too high. 
“Will you then tell me what you like? Tell me how to suck your pretty little clit?” His fingers curl into the denim and start pulling until he needs to sit back to get your jeans all the way off. He accidentally pulls your socks off too, but it just earns you a kiss to your ankle before he crawls forward again and you feel like prey at the mercy of a predator.
“Go slow,” you say breathlessly. 
“Of course,” he reassures, hooking a finger into the waistband of your panties next, “Tell me if I’m too much.”
“No! I mean, this is good, I like your filthy words,” you suck in a breath as your cunt is exposed to him, cheeks burning up with shyness but he just groans. It feels very vulnerable to be naked from the waist down when he isn’t, 
“I can touch you?” His voice indicates a question. You nod slowly, tensing up quite a bit as he rests one huge hand on your left hip bone and reaches between your legs with his index- and middle fingers. He runs them through your glistening folds, earning a gasp. 
“Do you usually come from touching your clit or?”
“No, yes, but I like my g-spot stimulated too. Simultaneously,” you try to reply confidently. 
He hums and nods, taking it all in. It takes a few extra seconds before he gently rubs his fingers along the side of your clit, dragging his fingers up and down slowly to test out the waters and see how sensitive you are. He guesses very, because you let out a soft moan at the contact, so he keeps going.
“We’ll get to your g-spot,” he says matter-of-factly, and your eyes nearly roll back into your skull at the promise. It’s been a while since you’ve been in a position like this, too busy restoring the house and falling in love to even think about seeking out casual sex. Who knew that you’d end up with something so not casual? 
“When did you last do this?” You ask right before he leans down to taste you. 
“Eat pussy?” He asks with a smirk.
“I meant slept with someone in general,” your head swims. Joel may have halted his head’s movements down towards your cunt, but he still has his fingers between your legs. You prop yourself up on your elbows to look down at what his hands are doing.
“Don’t think I’d use in general about sex,” he replies smugly instead of giving you a proper answer. You realize it doesn’t matter as he rubs teasing circles around your clit, still avoiding any direct touch to get you properly worked up and wet. You cannot wait for him to follow through on his plan to eat you out, which you aren’t sure when you last had a guy do to you. 
“Fine, forget I asked,” you moan with a roll of your eyes.
Joel can sense the brat in you looming under the surface. He gets bolder, eyes changing to something hungrier than soft. He pulls you by your ankles to get you closer to him instead of the other way around. It makes you yelp, but he chuckles, “And there’s that attitude I like. Are you gonna let me now? No more interruptions?”
“No more interruptions,” you confirm.
Finally, he lowers his head between your legs and puts a stop to the noise in your head. You have been fantasizing about this position for months now, waited for the opportunity to lift your legs up to wrap them around his neck and shoulders. 
His tongue is warm and wet on you, trailing through your folds as if he is eating ice cream and it’s melting in his hands. He makes you throw your head back, makes you look up again as you don’t want to miss seeing him like this but only to have you force your eyes away because it’s too much. 
“Shit, Joel,” you swear when his nose bumps your clit. You try to lift your hips up into his mouth, but a big hand rests on your pelvis and aggressively pushes you down into the mattress again. That ignites something close to fire in your body, and Joel senses it immediately when your skin grows hotter.
“You like that, baby?” He pulls away from you for a moment, arousal dripping off his stubble, “When I get a little rough? Guess I shouldn’t be surprised with the way you like me to say filth.”
“I don’t want you to say anything right now,” you whine, “Not what your mouth is for.”
“And I told ya to guide me,” he retorts, replacing his tongue with his fingers whilst you are talking. He spreads your lips open, watching as another drip of slick runs down between your cheeks to pool on the mattress. 
“Don’t need any guidance,” you squirm as he holds your labia apart, clenching around nothing. 
“Then ya ain’t gettin’ anything,” he threatens, “I can watch your pussy jump under my touch for a long time. Ain’t gotta be home later. This is only to do it exactly how you want it, sweetheart. Needa know how you like to fuck.”
Your pulse quickens at the thought of him being a little mean if you don’t show a bit of cooperation. Your mouth parts as you pant in your compromising position. Joel looks up at you expectantly and you realize that maybe, as much as this is a bit of fun, it’s possible that he just wants to be reassured too. 
“I want you to pay more attention to my clit, use the flat of your tongue, and don’t suck until I’m close,” you explain while your head spins. Your elbows ache from holding yourself up. 
Another droplet of slick runs down. Without warning, Joel catches it with the tip of his tongue and it has you crying out. He remembers your demands, swiping his tongue through your folds and licking your clit expertly. 
“Need your fingers inside me,” you only just manage to let out whilst your orgasm burns low in your belly. He follows through but only after pushing your t-shirt up to expose your bra, cupping your breast with his left hand, and sneaking his right down between your legs.
Your nipples harden underneath his touch. Your pussy clamps around his fingers. And then he sucks your clit into his mouth, causing your hips to stutter and your thighs to twitch. He wiggles his head a little, goes rougher.
“Just like that, keep go— oh, Joel, you’re gonna—“ you flop down onto the bed again, elbows giving out underneath you. With the way that the pressure keeps building, you scramble to grab the sheets with both of your hands, “Gonna make me come, baby. Just— Ah!”
Everything fades as your orgasm begins. The flutters of your walls are intense, causing you to throw your head back into the mattress and concentrate on each pulsating contraction of your cunt. 
Joel pumps his fingers as he works you through it, sucking your swollen clit until you have to push him away to stop it from hurting. He lifts his head at your indication of wanting him to stop before removing your legs from his shoulders. He crawls into bed with you, hovering on top of you with his clothes still on and his legs hanging out off the edge. 
“Now how was that?” He asks despite knowing the answer. The warm and handsome smile that you love so much translates so well into the context of being in bed together, and with a little more confidence from just having climaxed, you cup his face and kiss him. He tastes deliciously of you. 
“Can’t complain,” you say with a little laugh and earn a little glare that Joel cannot keep on his face for long. He nudges your nose with his own and kisses you once again. The nervousness that you had felt earlier seems so far away now, so silly when he makes it so easy to forget. 
“Take your pants off, Miller,” you add, moving to crawl back on the bed. You start undressing yourself completely, pulling at your t-shirt, “Can’t just be about me as much as that sounds entertaining.”
“Confident after havin’ climaxed,” he says out loud like it’s a mental note for himself, removing his shirt. He laughs whilst getting out of his jeans, out loud at your outraged noise. 
You don’t know if it’s the comment that makes you the worst undresser in history, but somehow your bra becomes stuck in the sleeve of your t-shirt. Before you know it, the shirt simply won’t move anymore despite being halfway over your head, “Oh no.”
You can feel Joel moving on the bed. His attention is on you immediately, “What?”
“It’s stuck,” you admit but only after a long pause. Warmth creeps up your chest to your face as embarrassment fills you up, and even more so when Joel barks out a laugh at your eagerness getting the better of you.
“Sit still, you’re only makin’ it worse, we gotta start from scratch,” he says as you continue pulling at the fabric. He starts tugging your clothes back on until he has your face visible again and your body as dressed as before. 
“Hey you,” he says with a boyish grin, then slowly works your clothes back off the right way. 
“Hi,” you sputter when you’re finally completely naked, voice flustered. Joel is only in his boxers now, and God, he is tenting in them. It’s been on your mind a bunch of times; how big is he? Now that you see him straining against the fabric, you know that he is going to be the biggest you’ve ever had. 
After he has tugged off his boxers, and you’ve nearly passed out from the vision, Joel pushes gently on your chest to get you to lie down. He helps you to bend your legs, plants your feet flat on the bed, and then settles on his knees between them. 
“Condom?” He asks, stroking your thighs as he waits.
“I’m on the pill,” you reply, “And it’s been God knows how long, so I’m clean.”
“God knows how long,” he snorts, leaning down over you and holding himself up on his elbows, “We better fix that. Don’t ya think so?” 
“Mhm,” you look up into his eyes, “Definitely. Yeah.” 
“Wrap your legs ‘round my waist,” he guides you softly, can sense your hesitation or maybe it’s just how he can feel your heartbeat against his own chest. It’s rapid, beating like a scared animal.
You do as you are told. He is able to get even closer now, and when he is flush against your body, he kisses you slowly until he is allowed to slip his tongue into your mouth. You slide your fingers through the curls at the back of his head, and he hums into your mouth. 
When he needs air, he only pulls back inches. 
“I want you so much,” you breathe quietly, hands still at the back of his head. He smiles softly at you, reaches down between the two of you, and presses the tip of his cock against you. 
The whimper you let out as he pushes inside has him attentively moving slower. Inch by inch, he fills you to the brim and you can barely believe that just a few months ago, this had only been a brief fantasy. 
“Okay? You want me to stop?” He questions with genuine concern, but you quickly shake your head. That is the last thing you want.
“No, you’re just big … and it’s been a while,” you blush. 
“Okay, tell me if it’s too—“
You pull him into a sweet kiss, legs tightening around his waist to make him realize that you don’t want him to go anywhere. When you pull back to talk, he is on the brink of interrupting you again. You shake your head, “Joel Miller. Shut up and just fuck me.”
“Wow, yeah. Can do.”
The slow outwards drag of his cock is almost more intense, leaving you empty for the briefest moment before it fills you up again. You moan as your muscles squeeze around him, accepting him so easily as you finally relax into him.
He rolls his hips sensually, fucks you open till your new bed squeaks and you hope that he was right about its sturdiness. For show, and to test it out, you reach above your head to place your palm against the headboard. 
“Let’s see then,” he chuckles breathlessly.
“Wouldn’t even— fuck. I wouldn’t even be mad if you break my bed,” you pants, “Angle your hips a bit.”
You squeeze your legs around his waist to guide him, and when his cock nudges against your g-spot, you clench involuntarily around him. It pulls a groan from his lips, filth spilling from his mouth, “Yeah, you like that? Want it again?”
“Fuck yes, I want it again,” you whine, eyes falling closed and breathing rapidly, “Just like that! Fuck, Joel!”
Joel picks up the pace, leans further into you. He also adds more force behind his thrusts, making your eyes roll back when his pelvis aligns with your clit. The hand on the back of his neck slides down for more leverage, holding on for dear life as he pounds you into the mattress. 
“Keep going, I’m almost there,” you cry, heat continuously pooling at the base of your spine. Suddenly, you have both hands on his back, raking your nails down until they dig into the widest part of his back, “Faster!” 
“I know, baby,” he growls, but it sounds mostly out of breath. He gives you everything he has, seeking out your pleasure by making the bed slam into the wall, “Can feel you. Let go, baby, come on my cock.”
It is nothing but raw and hot pleasure in the next moment as he gets you to orgasm, causing you to release a breath that you do not know that you have been holding. You are taken aback by its intensity. A high-pitched cry leaves you as the first clench of your cunt hits you and Joel continues fucking you through it. 
“You’re fuckin’ incredible,” he pants, buries his head in the crook of your neck to chase his own reward. He comes after a few more thrusts, coating your walls in his warm come and saying your name. You don’t think your name has ever sounded so beautiful with a string of swear words following it. 
Time stands still after Joel pulls out. You expect yourself to be blissed out, sleepy, and quiet, maybe even annoyed at having to get up and clean yourself up, but instead, you find that you cannot stop grinning up at the ceiling. 
“We are definitely fucking doing that again,” you say despite being completely out of breath. 
“Was that perfect?” Joel teases, “Or did I disappoint ya?”
“Fuck you,” you giggle, still high on dopamine. You suspect you will be in the coming days, weeks, months, years. Hopefully.
“Just did,” he says proudly.
“You sure fucking did.”
“You always get so foul-mouthed after sex?” He turns onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. He rests his free hand on the sweat-dampened skin of your stomach, “Or?”
“Only if it’s fucking good,” you respond but mostly to the ceiling. You want to cry, giggle, scream, and laugh out loud, but mostly you want to say that you love him. One thing at a time, you think to yourself, next time. Even if the next time is in a moment.
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