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f0point5 · 9 months

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Max Verstappen x bestfriend!reader Masterlist

She’s still bejewelled - Y/N finds out F1 wag pages are once again speculating she is dating her best friend, Max Verstappen

It’s (not) a cruel summer - Y/N and Max enjoy the summer break

August slipped away - Y/N does a Q&A to catch up with her followers after summer break

Burning red- Lando puts his foot in it

Holy ground - Fans discuss their excitement to see Y/N and Max interact at Zandvoort

I’m the one who understands you - A window into Max and Y/N’s home life

It turned into something bigger - Y/N’s comments about her childhood friend, Mick Schumacher, lead to a social media firestorm

They’d say I’d hustled, put in the work - A look at Y/N’s podcast, Dirty Air(time)

Shake it off - Determined to forget her worries, Y/N goes out parting with Max and Lando

They say home is where the heart is - Fans discuss how Y/N and Max love being roommates

(We’re) in the club doing I don’t know what - Fans look back on Max and Y/N’s Club Rat Renaissance

Pauses, then says, (he’s) my best friend - Y/N spends the day in Amsterdam while Max does press at Zandvoort

How evergreen, our group of friends - Snippets of Y/N and Max’s other friends on the grid and beyond

We’re faster and never scared - It’s a dramatic Friday in the Zandvoort paddock

I watch Superman fly away - The drama continues as Y/N and Mick have a run in in the paddock

Long live all the magic he made - Y/N supports Max as he equals the record for most consecutive wins

Remember the footsteps - A look at Y/N and Mick’s lifelong friendship

He has his father’s eyes…his father’s ambition - A look at Y/N’s relationship with Jos

I love your handshake, meeting my father - Fans discuss Jos’s perspective on Y/N, and her relationship with Max

And maybe it was egos swinging - Everyone speculates about the cause and consequences of Y/N and Mick’s falling out

I fell from the pedestal - Y/N becomes the subject of internet trolling after her fall out with Mick becomes public

Don’t know how long it’s gonna take to feel okay - Unable to deal with the stress and trolling, Y/N goes home to Switzerland, cutting off Max

My reputation’s never been worse so - Y/N’s absence sparks concerns amongst those closest to her

If someone comes at us, this time I’m ready - Y/N’s friends publicly support her as the hate continues

You don’t want to know me, I will just let you down

My words shoot to kill when I’m mad - Mick and Y/N finally talk

Something in your eyes says we can beat this - Max has a tough start to an important weekend, but his luck is about to change

(We) saw something the can’t take away - Y/N is there as Max wins at Monza and breaks another record

This is life before you know who you’re gonna be - Netizens discuss Max and Y/N’s enemy era

20 questions, we tell the truth - Y/N catches up with her followers after a hectic couple of weeks, and meets a man in Monaco

On a Wednesday, in a café - Y/N’s podcast with Daniel leads to some interesting revelations

Do you really want to know where I was? - Y/N and Max spend a day at the factory as rumours begin to swirl

I make it look oh so easy - Y/N and Max choose different confidants as they both attempt to avoid the elephant in the room

You’ll find me on my tallest tiptoes - It gets harder for Y/N to keep her secret

Slow motion, double vision in rose blush - Y/N gets back in the saddle while Max watches from the sidelines in more ways than one

Carnations you had thought were roses - Two of Y/N’s secrets are revealed

Didn’t it all seem new and exciting - Max leaves Y/N behind in Monaco as she reflects on her date

Loose lips sink ships all the damn time - Y/N heads to Switzerland for a special appointment as her relationship with Max is put under a microscope

I don’t wanna miss you like this - Y/N and Max deal with the distance between them differently

Your finger on my hairpin trigger - Tensions run high as Max has a bad day on track and Y/N gets defensive

Takes one to know one - Y/N’s much needed talk with Elliot is interrupted by an explosive qualifying in Singapore

I want to tell you not to get lost in these petty things - Max’s streak comes to an end and he and Y/N look ahead to Suzuka

Forever going with the flow, but you’re friction - Max asking Y/N to fly out early to Japan leads to tension and Y/N turns to Daniel for advice

I drive down different roads - Fans, and Y/N, speculate about her budding relationship

(They) knew what it was, he is in love - Netizens set out to prove that Max is in love with Y/N

(We) counted days, I counted miles, to see you there - Y/N arrives in Japan and is reunited with Max

Balancing on breaking branches - Max receives an unexpected delivery as Y/N answers questions from the media and her mother

It’s you and me, there’s nothing like this - As Max gets back to business as usual in Suzuka, wag social media does it’s thing

My (baby flies) like a jet stream - Max has a good day on track and Y/N’s Vogue article goes live

I can read you like a magazine - The internet reacts to mentions of Max in Y/N’s Vogue article

He’s passing by, rare as a glimmer of a comet in the sky - Red Bull securing the WCC is overshadowed by the revelation that Max hates podcasts

The lingering question(s) kept me up - Y/N does an Instagram Q&A

I just may like some explanations - Y/N answers more questions

How you held me in your arms that September night, the first time you ever saw me cry - Set in 2017, we learn what led to Y/N’s dad being dropped as Max’s sponsor, early in their friendship

People started talking, putting us through our paces - When Y/N is spotted out with Elliot, Instagram, Max, and Lando react

I don’t wanna touch you - Y/N finds herself short of breath on her padel date. Later, she appears on Max’s stream

(I) will never make my parents’ mistakes - Y/N’s dad hears about her dating life, and her mother weighs in

Drinking on a (yacht) with you all over me - Y/N and Max kick of his birthday celebrations with a day on the water, while Elliot changes his tune

I’d pick you up and we’d go back in time - Y/N and Max bring in his birthday somewhere special

We’re gonna be timeless - It’s Max’s birthday, but Y/N isn’t the only one planning surprises

Take the moment and taste it - Max enjoys a birthday boat day with family and friends, and Vic makes an accidental discovery

There’s glitter on the floor after the party - It’s the morning after night before. Max and Vic discuss Y/N’s letter

Movin’ on was always easy for me to do - Y/N and Elliot meet up to talk and Y/N’s friend weighs in. Y/N’s tweets irritate Max

Your eyes look like (being at) home - Y/N goes riding, Lando proposes plans, and Max has plans of his own

No I didn’t hear the news, ‘cause we were somewhere else - Max and Y/N arrive in Doha, but rumours about Max’s Monaco exploits follow them

You heard the rumours from (your friends) - Max attends Media Day while Y/N hangs out with an old friend

‘Cause they don’t know about the night in the hotel - Max’s GQ interview exposes an interesting part of Max and Y/N’s past

I was dancing around, dancing around it - Y/N and Clara celebrate Max’s on track triumphs

(You) stand up, champion tonight - Max becomes a three time world champion

This life is sweeter than fiction - Max wins in Qatar in a physically gruelling race

Life makes love look hard - Back in Monaco, Y/N is seen out with Elliot, and he makes a bold suggestion

Can we always be this close? - Y/N and Max have a chill day at home and while Twitter notice Max made an admission in an interview, Y/N makes an admission to Victoria

Inescapable, I’m not even gonna try - Y/N and Max spend a day at the factory, where both realise they may have something to work on

You go talk to your friends, talk to my friends, talk to me - Y/N’s podcast with Oscar comes out, on the same day she finally films one with Max. Meanwhile, Max uses the sim in an unconventional way

Yes, I remember what you said last night - Y/N’s plans for COTA baffle Christian, and Y/N learns an unexpected fact about the past

Take out, then take me home - Y/N prepares for Austin, and an interview with Max comes out

Love’s a game, wanna play? - Y/N tries her hand at padel after watching Max compete, and Max steams with Redline

Rosé flowing with your chosen family - Clara and Y/N spend the day together, and Clara becomes determined to finish what she started in 2017

(We are) a flight risk, with a fear of falling - Y/N and Max head to the US

Ain’t it funny, rumours fly - Y/N heads to a Ferrari gala as rumours swirl about Max’s next career move amid reports of infighting at Red Bull

As if I don’t already see (it) - The circus settles in to Texas and Y/N’s dad weighs in on Elliot

Can you see right through me? - Y/N and Elliot make a king and awkward paddock debut

I’ve been sleeping so long in a twenty year dark night - Y/N sheds light on her dating history while she and Elliot struggle to adjust to life in the paddock

It’s morning now, it’s brighter now - Y/N reaches out to an old friend for support. Meanwhile, Daniel tries to support Max

The moment I could see it - Max takes another win in Austin while Elliot reaches his breaking point

You’ll find the real thing instead - Y/N and Elliot have an honest conversation

In the name of being honest - Bonus part where Y/N answers Instagram questions after the Austin GP

I’m asking you why - More of Y/N’s post Austin Q&A

You’ve got a girl at home and everybody knows that - Y/N and Max are suspects in the wildest paddock rumour yet as they wrap up their trip to Austin

You learn my secrets and you figure out why I’m guarded - Y/N gets brutally honest with Mick as Max plays goalkeeper twice

You saw the truth in me - Max cuts it close before media day as reports surface of security threats in Mexico

They tell you that you’re lucky, but you’re so confused - Max attends a gruelling media day as Y/N deals with the heat of Mexico

Laughing with (your head in my) lap, like you were my closest friend - Everyone has a tough quali day

This is the golden age - Maxico delivers another win, and Y/N celebrates with tequila

(You would never) me darling, but who could stay? - Y/N and Max arrive in Brazil for a short break before the race

No one has to know what we do - Max and Y/N fall off the map and enjoy some private time

I can’t say anything to your face - Max and Y/N continue to leave each other flustered and Max starts press for the Brazilian GP

The way you move is like a full on rainstorm - Max takes pole in difficult conditions and Y/N gets near her breaking point

We were cards sharks, playing games - Max wins the sprint and Y/N wins games of her own

🚨I’ve had to add a second masterlist for all posts after this point. That can be found here 🚨

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #formula 1 #max verstappen fanfiction #max verstappen x you #f1 imagine #f1 social media au #f1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher

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goingmerryfics · 2 months

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Arguments w/ Shanks, Buggy, & Mihawk

Content: Gender Neutral reader, no NSFW. Maybe some slightly angsty stuff? Not really though.

Shanks

Arguing with him is either exhausting or it’s pointless, there’s never an in-between

Shanks doesn’t really take most arguments seriously because they’re either started by something extremely unimportant or he’s already made his decision and he’s not going to back down on his opinion

Pointless, because he’s not going to change his mind and he’s laughing at you while you’re trying to talk to him

“You’re so cute when you’re angry.”

Yup. Pointless. It’ll just make you more angry and him more entertained

The exhausting arguments are when he’s actually serious- and while he’s not mad at you, he’s mad that you can’t see his reasonings for doing what he’s doing

Especially when it comes to keeping you safe

Shanks won’t back down and it’s impossible to change his mind while he’s this pissed off, so it’s always best to just separate and come back later to talk it out when you’re both calm

While you do what you need to do in order to relax, Shanks festers in his anger and reflects on the things that were said between the two of you. His crewmates try to cheer him up- they offer him booze, they crack jokes, but he’s not in the mood for either and everyone is concerned

Truthfully, he’s worried. While he’s still not willing to change his mind, he doesn’t want to lose the relationship you two have worked so hard to build and maintain

He gets up out of his seat 3 times to pace around, mind racing back and forth on if he should go talk to you, and then convincing himself that it’s best to wait for you to emerge first so he knows you’re ready to talk

But he grows tired of waiting, and does actually end up coming to your shared room to resolve the issue

You’re still steaming just a bit. Your arms are crossed over your chest, and you don’t look up when he enters. You know it’s him, because a few others on his crew have already come to check on you, and you’d asked them politely to leave you be. But you don’t protest when he comes to sit beside you

He doesn’t touch you

It’s painfully silent for a while

Then he finally speaks up and breaks the tension

“I’m sorry. That got a little more heated than I wanted it to.”

You peek up at him just a bit. He notices how red your face is, and a strike of fear shoots through him at the thought of possibly having made you cry and then left you on your own for hours

He stretches out his hand, offering it to you to hold, and you shift in your position to take it

He goes into a rant on how much you mean to him and how he’s only doing what he has to do to keep you and the rest of the crew safe

“Because I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

You do

You also know that no matter how many times you two get upset with each other, you’ll always find your way back into his arms

Buggy

Arguing with him would come often, but the content of the arguments is what matters here

Only for the reason that Buggy is adamant about being correct in every situation, even when he is not and knows it

Everyone knows it’s best to just simply let him believe his delusions and let the natural consequences come through

But this guy seriously has weirdly good luck, and somehow all his delusions seem to come true for him in one way or another

Half of the time it’s just funny watching him be completely wrong about a subject, other times it’s a little infuriating

Arguments don’t last long between the two of you, though

Buggy craves attention, and attention from his favorite person is a must. It’s basically a necessity of life

Food, water, shelter, you. Not in that order, though

He realizes too late through his incessant rambling and gloating that he’s said something that hurt your feelings and immediately starts to backpedal

“Wait, wait, wait! That’s not what I meant! What I meant to say was-”

He’s red in the face, almost so much so as his nose

He hates to admit it, but you look really good glaring down at him like that as he tries to save his own skin

He clams up, sweating. Unsure of himself. Not sure what he was even saying a second ago

As much as you need time alone to chill out, he can’t seem to leave you be. It’s scary for him, seeing your usually smiling face so serious

He takes a seat outside of your room, and then breaks into pieces no, literally while he waits for you to emerge again

It takes you a few hours, but he’s there the whole time. His feet are pacing around, his head is whining, cheek on the floor. His hands are tapping and picking at the dirt in the wood, but every part of him lights up when he sees you again

“Aha! I see you finally caved. Couldn’t stay away from me, could you?”

You pause, and then move to go back inside before he yelps and his hands grab at your ankles. His parts come back together again, using the rest of his body to hold you in place

“Wait! I’m sorry! Please don’t go back!”

He shouts it all in a rush. He’s crying, and there’s snot running down his nose

He looks like a damn mess

It kind of makes you laugh at how desperate he is for you

he pouts up at you and you cave

He basically crawls up your body to hug you. You hug him back, petting his hair and waiting for him to relax, sitting right there in the doorway of your room. People pause as they pass, but a sharp look from you stops them from staying for very long

Mihawk

If Mihawk is actually worked up enough to argue with you, there’s a good reason for it

Usually he makes his point and that’s that. No other words exchanged, nothing more than a slight glance towards you

Mihawk is an introvert, and he gets exhausted from others very easily. He’s not trying to be rude or dismissive towards you when he does this, but that is how it comes off sometimes

He’ll turn his attention back to his book because after he’s said what he wanted to, he figures everything is fine. He understands his logic, why wouldn’t you?

But you, like a lot of people that aren’t Mihawk, are more emotional than he is

Your silence isn’t acceptance, it’s hurt

Only when you get up to leave the room does the thought cross his mind that maybe what he’d said didn’t come off correctly, and you might have just been insulted. But he figures you would come tell him if that were the case, so all is well and he returns to his book

This could go forever, really. Until he notices that you’re giving him the cold shoulder, and then he would stop whatever he was doing- even if he were in another room at the time of realization -and find you to clear things up right away

“Darling, we need to talk right away.”

Straight to the point. He doesn’t really ask you if you want to talk, because he knows if he doesn’t at least make an attempt at this it will haunt him like Perona’s ghosts all night

The thing about Mihawk that not many people know is that he’s got this cool, collected, silent aura about him because he simply does not have the energy to play nice with everyone

So when he’s just arrived home from a Warlord meeting, or somewhere that he was obligated to be present for, all he wants is time to himself to recharge

Having a relationship and balancing this need was something he was still learning

But he loves you so much and the thought of upsetting you over a misunderstanding gnawed at him and gave him massive amounts of anxiety and uncomfortability

He’s not this untouchable guy that everyone thinks he is. You’ve seen this; he laughs and cries like everyone else does

And you understand him. He couldn’t ask for someone better than you are

If you’re willing to, he’ll take your hands and kiss your knuckles.

“I apologize for my behavior. I should have given my words a second thought before I spoke them out loud. What can I do to make this up to you?”

It’s an easy thing to answer- it’s all you wanted since he’d returned, why you kept invading his space before he was ready to emerge and what lead up to the situation in the first place

You tell him you want him. His attention, to be wrapped in his arms. You just want to spend time with him, even if that’s in silence

He can work with that

He presses a kiss to your forehead and makes you promise that you’ll tell him if he ever says or does anything to upset you again. He wants to communicate, not lose out on precious time with you over something small

He goes above and beyond, though. He makes up a very romantic candlelit dinner that night for the both of you to share and even if it’s a very quiet dinner, (minus the music playing softly in the background) it’s perfect

#one piece #harleywritesop #hwop #red haired shanks #one piece shanks #buggy the clown #buggy one piece #captain buggy #op buggy #buggy x reader #shanks x reader #dracule mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #op mihawk #mihawk one piece #mihawk x reader

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endlessthxxghts · 5 months

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Joel Nye, The Science Guy

no outbreak!Joel Miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈4.6k

"Is he really choosing coffee right now over having you? I mean, not to toot your own fucking horn, but seriously. Who would delay an orgasm for some coffee? Apparently, Joel fucking Miller would."

Summary: Joel stumbles across an article online about the effects of coffee on the body. Determined to uncover the truth, he tests the hypothesis with you as his subject.

Contents/Warnings: Any physical description of reader is neutral (no size descriptions). Joel is bigger than you though (but he’s fucking huge in general, so…). No age mentioned for reader or for Joel. Implied established relationship. No matter what age, Joel is a grandpa when it comes to technology. Mentions of Amazon LMAO. SMUT 18+ MDNI (mutual masturbation on the phone, touching yourself in the workplace, dirty talk, sexting [kinda], ..kitchen activities…reflections…, finger fucking, lots of liquids, squirting, cumming untouched, drinking coffee with an ulterior motive!, allusion to further sexual endeavors). Please let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Happy New Year, my loves! I just got done rewatching TLOU for the millionth time while drinking some coffee, and for some reason, this was born. I have no idea wtf this is, so don't ask me.💚 Also let’s thank @javierpena-inatacvest for titling this silly thing for me hehe. Fucking iconic. I love you, bestie.🥹 Here's to my first fic of 2024, and to many more! I hope you enjoy.💚

MASTERLIST

Joel’s number one favorite sensation every morning was when the first drop of the bitter, black liquid met his tongue, consuming all his senses into nothing but pure coffee. It was one of his favorite things—past tense—because then he got to experience what it was like waking up to you every morning, what it was like tasting you every morning. The first drop of you blessed his tongue one year ago, and he never looked back.

That is, until now.

You had work today and Joel had the day off, a rare occurrence. You forgot to set your alarm this morning, so you broke from his hold in a rush, leaving him nothing but a sweet kiss to last him the day.

Usually your mornings together are spent tangled in his sheets until he leaves you with less than twenty minutes to get ready for your day. Too addicted to the way he makes you feel, you mastered the art of quick change, using the rest of your time to do your morning skincare routine. This, you’ll never skip—subjecting yourself to a few scoldings by your boss because of it.

Joel allowed himself a few more hours of sleep after you left, his body needing extra rest from his unusually crazy day at the job site yesterday and from the way you pounced on him as soon as he came home. You promised him it would be you doing all the work, but like the addicting little thing you are, he couldn’t help but take charge so he could watch you fall apart over and over and over again.

Joel pulled himself out of his bed, a chill running down his body from leaving the trapped body heat of the sheets. He was hard, of course, and usually you’re there to help with his morning problem, but apparently today’s full of rare events for Joel. He grumbles to himself as he makes the way to the bathroom, not wanting to take care of himself without you, not anymore. He could wait for you to be home, but he knows he’d be a leaking, grumpy mess all day—God forbid he has to interact with another human in that aroused, frustrated state. He checks the little clock you bought for his bathroom counter when you moved in—so I can watch the time when I get ready for work, you scolded him when he made you late for the first time.

11:48 the clock displays; twelve more minutes until your break. He can wait twelve minutes. You usually close your office during your lunch, don’t you? Maybe he can call you. He might as well do his own morning routine while he waits. Joel’s old morning routines consisted of brushing his teeth, then washing his face with soap and water. Though, upon witnessing his wretched routine the first morning you two spent together, you were utterly appalled at his actions, forcing him to the store and spending the first half of your morning educating him on proper skincare. His morning routine went from four minutes to fifteen with your influence, but because he didn’t want to be a minute late in calling you, he shaved three minutes off from his task.

As soon as the clock hit twelve, Joel plopped himself in bed, leaning against the headboard, and reached for his phone, immediately dialing you.

Two rings later, and your sweet voice fills his ears. “Hi, baby,” you say. He can hear the small smile on your face.

“Hi, darlin’,” Joel rasps, his voice still groggy from the lack of use.

“You just wake up?” You jokingly scold, knowing damn well what the answer was. You like when he sleeps in. He deserves the rest from all that hard work he does.

“Maybe,” he tells you. You can hear the smirk on his face now. “How’s work goin’? On your break now?”

“Work is… definitely going,” you huff. “And yeah, I’m on my break now, which means I’ve got an hour to counterproductively stress about these reports that have to go out.”

“I’m sorry, honey,” he tells you softly. But then he’s smirking again. “Can I help?”

“Help?” you repeat.

“Yeah,” he states like it’s the most regular answer ever. “Lemme help de-stress ya,” he adds, his voice dropping an octave.

A heat consumes your face, but you remain calm. “Yeah?” You breathe. “And how would you help me, cowboy?” You ask him as you swiftly stand from your desk to lock your office door and close your blinds.

“I reckon you just locked that door of yours, huh?” He asks rhetorically, knowing you better than you know yourself. Not even your past lovers would be able to pick up on the slightest of changes in your voice when you’re aroused. Joel picks up on it instantly.

“Maybe,” you repeat his sentiment from earlier.

“If I’m remembering correctly,” Joel says as he rubs his hand over his tenting bulge in an attempt to ease his ache. “You’ve got a couch in there, baby?”

“Yeah,” you whisper.

“Well, you know what to do next, babygirl.”

Glancing at your door to make sure it’s really locked, you make your way to your couch, unbuttoning your jeans in the process and shucking them down as your ass meets the cushion. Fuck, you’re already soaked.

“Where are you?” You ask him, your fingers ghosting your core over the wet patch on your panties.

As soon as the words leave your mouth, your phone buzzes. Joel sent you a text. An image. Clicking it, a breathy little whimper escapes you. “Fuck.” He’s leaning against the headboard, legs pushed open, his thick thighs on display. He’s just wearing his boxers, and his hand is inside, gripping onto his length. His leaking, angry tip is showing from the top of his boxers. A little circle catches your eye, and- oh. It’s a live photo. You hold down on the image, and you see his hips jerk into his hand. “Fuck,” you say again, your pussy twitching in excitement yet frustration that you can’t have him inside you right now. “I need you so fucking bad, Joel,” you whine into the phone as your fingers finally dip inside.

“I need you, too, baby,” he groans, “I’m fuckin’ dyin’ over here.” He sounds so pained. It riles you up even more. Your fingers speed up at his words, breathy moans escaping you. You circle your clit a few more times before reaching lower and dipping your middle and index finger inside of you. Joel hears the faintest sound of a squelch, and the grip on his cock tightens. He pulls his boxers completely down over his thighs, his cock completely free, and he tugs at a slow, teasing pace in an effort to build himself up the way you normally do for him. “Let me hear you, baby, let me hear you touch yourself for me.”

Lord, you hope your room is sound proofed enough because without any hesitation, you’re putting him on speaker and setting your phone down near your cunt, pumping in and out of yourself faster and deeper for him to hear. “J-Joel, f-fuck,” you stutter, “I- I’m-”

“You’re close, baby, I know,” he says soothingly. You can hear the slick sound of his hand speed up. Your other hand falls to your clit as your fingers continue inside. “Let go for me, mi amor, soak those fingers as if it were my cock fuckin’ you,” he rambles. “Just like I know you can, baby, atta fuckin’ girl.”

With the help of his filthy mouth, your body seizes up and you’re seeing stars, your eyes falling to the back of your head as you remove your hand from your clit to slap it over your mouth in an attempt to stop the high-pitched, purely pornographic moan of his name from escaping the walls of your not-so private office. You can hear the moment Joel cums, too, a painful groan roars from his throat as you hear the movements slow but get slippier with each pass over.

You’re on the phone for a few moments more, listening to each other’s breaths, slowly fixing your clothing as you let your heart rate return to normal.

“Joel,” you finally have enough strength to say.

“Yeah, darlin’?”

He hears a faint knock on your door. You pull the phone away to lessen your volume on his end. Just a moment, he hears you call out. “Gonna need more of you when I get home.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Joel replies more than happily.

After your phone call, Joel cleans and dresses himself up and heads to the kitchen.

Joel can’t help the way your words bounce around his head. Gonna need more of you when I get home.

“And I’m definitely gonna need a fuck ton of you today,” he mutters to the bag of Colombian coffee grounds he pulls out of his kitchen cabinet. He refills the machine with water, inserts a filter, pours two heaping spoonfuls of the ground beans into the compartment, places a mug, and hits start. He goes to put the coffee away, but it’s then he feels how lightweight the bag is starting to feel.

Genuinely, he begins to panic. He needs to order more, and he needs to do it now. He cannot go a day without his precious coffee. The brand he orders is online only, and usually he would wait for you to help him place the order, but he doesn’t want to risk hitting the cutoff for same day delivery.

Joel isn’t that old, and he certainly grows with the time period, but when it comes to technology, he’s worse than your 97-year-old grandmother who attempts to group FaceTime both of you every night. Sure, he knows how to send you pictures, but that’s the extent of his ability. Truly. With his coffee in mind, though, he puts on his bravest face and opens Safari. He searches for the website you’re always on. A, he types. M. A. Z.

There! Amazon. He clicks the website, not knowing the app is already installed on his phone. He sees the smiling logo, and, proud of himself, he smiles back at it.

The smile is quick to fade, however, because the intricacies of working the website is giving him heart palpitations. He sets his phone down and reaches for his reading glasses in his pocket and slides them on. He picks up his phone again.

The thing about using Amazon on a phone through a search engine, though, is that the website is constantly glitching. So when he types in the word coffee, he has zero idea how he ended up on a completely different website, his original search lost in the complicated webs of the internet.

It takes him a moment to realize what he’s reading, but once it registers, it’s way more interesting than his original task.

Women reporting intensified orgasms after drinking coffee, the headline read. His eyes begin to scan lower. Researchers concluded there was a “correlation between caffeine and sex” after testing its effects on rats.

Oh, yeah, he’s intrigued.

After reading the article, Joel restarts his original task and ends up ordering a larger amount of coffee than he normally would. In the name of science, he rationalized with himself.

Satisfied with his accomplishments, he grabs his mug and takes the time to enjoy his cup of pure caffeine. He needs the energy after all.

You get off promptly at 4pm, not wanting to spend any more time in your office—especially with the way you’ve been buzzing with need ever since your noon phone call. As soon as you park, you see an Amazon delivery person dropping off a box. They don’t ring the doorbell, and you know Joel doesn’t pay attention to the delivery notifications.

You get out of your car, leaving your things to get later. You reach the front porch and unlock and open the door first, bending down and picking up the box second.

Joel greets you at the door, immediately cursing himself for not paying attention to the door, resulting in you doing the heavy lifting. He knows you’re more than capable—Hell, you could probably handle his job better than he can—but his Southern upbringing is too deeply rooted into him to allow anything less.

“Hi, my love, I’m sorry, I coulda brought that in, baby,” he tells you as he takes the box from your grasp, giving you a forehead kiss as a trade off. The warmth of his lips physically relaxes you.

You two walk towards the kitchen, Joel sets the box down on the counter. “I just parked as they dropped it off, honey, it was no biggie,” you reply softly.

“I know, baby, but you know I-” he starts. You don’t let him finish as you grab him by his biceps and pull him into you, your arms finding their home wrapped around his neck as his grip completely wrapping your waist. Your lips slot together in a slow, needy embrace—your tongues slowly breaching each other’s mouths. You swallow the groans escaping his throat as you pull away from him.

“I know,” you say breathily, eyes as dark as his morning coffee. “Won’t do it again, promise,” you smile, knowing this is the only false promise you’ll ever make. At the rate of how hard you work him in other things, carrying a few heavy boxes is the least you could do every now and then. “Now, please undress me, baby,” you whimper, your hand skating down the front of his body, your deft fingers sliding into his waistband.

With one arm around your waist, another claws at your top, untucking it from your jeans to lift it over your head as he kisses and nips all over your jaw and neck. He turns your body so that your ass meets the counter, pushing his hips into yours, silently telling you to jump up.

Too eager, you don’t realize the trajectory of your jump, and your ass smacks the package, causing it to almost slip off the edge. The impact to your rear surprises you enough to pull away from Joel and look back. Apparently, your brain is already turned to mush because you completely forgot about that box’s existence.

However, now that you’re looking at it, you’re confused. You haven’t ordered anything recently. Did Joel order something? But he doesn’t even know how-

“You okay, darlin’?” Joel asks, pausing all his movements.

“Did you order something?” You ask.

His cheeks go red. “Yeah.. we were runnin’ out of my coffee ‘n I didn’t want to not have any for tomorrow or for later ‘n I wasn’t sure what time you’d be home to help me-”

The bubbly sounds of your giggles are what cut him off. “What?” He asks, slightly defensive and slightly giddy at the sweetness blessing his ears.

“You ordered something!” You exclaim. “You ordered something! And you were successful with it!” You’re gasping for air, speaking your excitement into his chest as you wrap yourself around him.

“Don’t make fun a’me,” he pouts, grabbing your chin with his thumb and forefinger, giving your face a little scolding shake.

“Oh, baby, no,” you coo, your laughter calming down because of the pain in your cheeks from smiling so wide. “I’m not making fun. I’m so proud!” your voice raises back up, as if you were talking to a baby who hit their first big milestone.

He rolls his eyes. “Baby, don’t be like that,” you say as you lean in to give him a soft kiss. He gives in, of course, and he deepens it. “I really am proud,” you say as you attempt to pull away.

He doesn’t let you. “Yeah, yeah,” he says sardonically in between kisses.

Your hand drags up and grabs at his jaw, pulling him away so you can speak. “Now you don’t have to ask me to order things for you anymore,” you say with a smirk.

“Mmm, I don’t think so,” he breathes, trying to push against your hold on him. “Worst experience ever, I even-”

He cuts himself off because he was so caught up in you when you got home, he forgot about the little detour his internet experience took him on today.

Women reporting intensified orgasms after drinking coffee.

“Actually,” he redirects. “Can we have some now?”

Your eyes pop out of your head in astonishment. “Right now?” you ask in disbelief.

He gulps. “Y-yeah, right now. That okay?”

You don’t see why not besides the fact that his erection has been perched right against the soaked fabric of your panties for the last fifteen minutes and you’ll probably go mad if you don’t actually get relief in the next five minutes—but yeah, sure. Why not?

“I guess?” You say. Or ask? You really don’t know anymore.

Is he really choosing coffee right now over having you? I mean, not to toot your own fucking horn, but seriously. Who would delay an orgasm for some coffee? Apparently, Joel fucking Miller would.

You’re not really a coffee person. Sure, you have a cup here and there—mostly iced and from your favorite local shop on your way to work—but compared to Joel, you are nowhere near the level he is.

“How do you want it?” He asks, his back turned to you as he prepares two mugs.

“Rough,” you mutter, slightly annoyed. You can feel the slick in your underwear start to get cold—and dry.

Joel briefly turns around catching your eye; he points to his ear. “Say that again, sweetheart?”

Fuck. Okay, maybe you’re being a little too bitchy. You rise from your seat at the counter, perching yourself right beside him, reaching your hand into his curls to give him a little head scratch. “I’ll do it, baby,” you say. “Thank you.” With your hand still at the back of his head, you guide him to look at you as you stand on your tippy toes to give him a soft kiss.

The coffee, honestly, wasn’t that bad. Yeah, you put your usual creamer and sugar, but you put slightly less—curious to get a glimpse of the natural flavor Joel loves so much. You could get used to it like this, you think. One thing is for sure, though: the brand Joel buys is fucking strong. You’re on your last sip, and you are struggling—you can feel your heart pumping out of your chest, and you swear you feel like your entire body is pulsing. Like you can hear your blood coursing through your veins. You don’t tell Joel because you don’t want to sound weird, so you shrug the feeling away and take your last sip. Perfectly in sync with you, Joel finishes off his coffee and reaches for your mug to also bring to the sink.

Quickly letting the faucet run into the mugs so the coffee doesn’t stain, Joel speaks up. “How was it, darlin’? I know you don’t really enjoy coffee the way I do,” he notes.

“Actually, baby, I really enjoyed it,” you say with a genuine smile.

“Yeah?” He asks, a boyish grin sneaking past his lips.

“Yeah,” you reassure. “It was really strong, though,” you add.

“Strong?” he asks, eyebrow quirked.

“Yeah, um-” you start, unsure of how to describe it. “I don’t know, I just- I’ve never had coffee make my entire body feel like- like it’s buzzing or something. I don’t know,” you ramble.

“Huh,” he says to no one in particular. “I mean, it is one of the stronger roasts,” he tells you. Is this because you were already severely worked up beforehand? It can’t be the placebo effect—he didn’t even tell you about his discoveries.

Guess there’s only one way to go from here.

Not giving you a chance to respond, his hands find your waist, pulling your back flush to his chest. He kisses your jaw, trailing his lips down the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Your head falls back onto him, your eyes fluttering shut as you give him full access. His fingers skate across the front of your jeans, your shirt already untucked from his earlier attempt. Your hips buck into his hands in response, a whiny little please leaves your mouth.

“Shh, I got ya, sweet girl,” he rasps in your ear, his drawl licking a heat up your spine. He adjusts himself so he’s the one leaning against the kitchen counter, your body entirely relying on his support to keep you standing.

He’s unbuttoning your jeans and right away you’re reaching for the zipper, helping him pull your bottoms down in one go.

You’re shaking in his grasp, too pent up with a need your body doesn’t know what to do with. “Relax, baby, I’ma take care a’ya,” he says with a nip to your shoulder, his middle and ring finger already finding their place running through your soaked folds.

Your eyes shut at the sensation, your breathing erratic and vocal. He drags your slick up to your throbbing bundle of nerves, circling with a precision only he knows how to provide. “F-fuck,” you moan. His other hand slides down to your sex, his two fingers going straight for your entrance and sliding in with ease with how much is pouring from you. “Fuckfuckfuck-”

“Gonna cum on my fingers, babygirl?” He’s pumping in and out of you at a languid pace even with the squirm of your hips. The stimulation on your clit never falters. “I can feel that pretty pussy flutter ‘round me, darlin’, I know she’s close.”

“J-Joel, please,” you let out, your head bobbing back and forth, unable to keep its heavy weight up.

Before he even realizes what he’s doing, he’s using his foot to kick your legs further apart, settling yours on the outside of his, and then both of you are dropping to the ground. His back is to the wall of the kitchen island while you land perfectly spread open atop his lap. Not worried about his or your balance anymore, he fucks into you harder, applying more pressure on your clit—the kind that makes you want to force your legs shut but you can’t, not with the way his own legs are keeping you open. “Open your eyes, sweet girl, need ya to look at yourself when you fuckin’ soak me.”

You open your eyes immediately and cast your eyes downward to his hands on you. “Nuh uh,” Joel tuts. His hand working your clit comes up to your jaw, your slick dampening your jaw as he guides you to look straight forward. Your reflection stares back at you from the dark oven window. Even in the dull image its showing you, you can see the way your pussy is glistening in the fluorescent kitchen light, the sweat dripping down your temples, your fucked-out face with Joel’s dark gaze ravaging every part of you.

Everything—all of your senses—is completely Joel, Joel, Joel, and before you know it, you’re gushing into his hand; his newfound liquid gold ever since he met you, collecting into the depths of his palm, all while you’re roaring and thrashing out in pure bliss on top of him.

The sight, sound, the feel, everything—just like you—consumes him whole. His lust takes over now, and his hands aren’t stopping. They continue their pace—their assault—on your sensitive core. He peers down over your shoulder, and his cock grows impossibly harder at the messy, slippery sight before him. “Christ,” he mutters under his breath. “Gimme one more, c’mon,” he breathes in, your scent beginning to linger into his nose, crawling into his skin and finding its home there. “I know you can gimme one more, baby, always such a good fuckin’ girl f’me.”

Your head is nodding furiously as you fight with your eyes to stay open and locked on your reflection. Your babbling, spit thick and coating every inch of your mouth as you try and respond. Mhm and one and more and fuck break free from your mouth, giving all the green light Joel needs to know he isn’t going too far.

You turn your head to face Joel, your hand flying to the back of his curls and pulling him for a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue—an intermingling of each other’s spit as you swallow the other’s coffee-tinged breaths.

He feels the flutter in your cunt once more, but this time it’s stronger, tighter. The way you’re clamping down on him sends him into a frenzy, his hips rutting his erection into your lower back at the feel of your warmth wrapped around him. “C’mon, baby, let go, I feel you,” he encourages.

“Fuck-!” A high-pitched gasp turned whine comes out of your mouth as your entire body goes rigid, your pussy uncontrollably fluttering and spasming as Joel fucks you through your high. All you see is white, your body is engulfed by a tingly feeling that only describing it as TV static could do it justice. Your breathing is deep and shallow all at one, but more notably, you feel wet. Completely and utterly soaked, you can feel liquid pooling at your asscheeks and on the hardwood floor.

You finally gather the strength to look down—Joel too, and he steals the words right from your mouth. “Holy. Fuck.”

You two stay there for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts on what the fuck just happened, and finally, you speak first.

“I just-” you start.

“You did,” he finishes, equally as shocked. Amazed.

“How are we gonna-”

He rubs your thighs. “Can you stand?”

You think for a moment. “Yeah, I think so.”

“I’ll get up first. Then I’ll pull you up. Just don’t move, I don’t need ya slippin’ on-”

“Yeah, okay,” you stop him, feeling slightly embarrassed about it all.

He stands up, avoiding the little puddle below; then he pulls you up, kneeling to pull your underwear on for some sense of emotional comfort. “Hey.” He nudges your face with his hand to look into his eyes. “That was fuckin’ incredible. Ya hear me?” Heat washes over your entire face. You say nothing. “It was so fuckin’ hot and sexy and so so beautiful, I’m fuckin’ lucky to have witnessed somethin’ so heavenly, darlin’.” He pulls you in for a kiss. “Ya hear me?” he repeats his question, softer this time.

The embarrassment washes away in an instant. “Well,” you look into his eyes, a flash of trouble dancing across your orbs. “Felt fuckin’ incredible, too.”

“Yeah,” Joel says, grabbing and guiding your hand down to his cock. “It did feel mighty incredible,” smugness written all over his face.

He dips your hand inside his pants, and you're met with his half-hard, sticky length. “Joel, did you-”

“That I did, baby, that I did.”

A moment passes, and you burst out into laughter for the second time tonight. Only this time, Joel joins in, completely taking advantage of how sweet the comedown always is with you.

“I think I oughta drink more of that coffee,” you say out of the blue, taking Joel completely off guard as he finishes wiping up your… spill.

“Why?” he asks, trying to maintain a normal tone.

“I swear, Joel,” you whisper as if there’s other people listening in. “I swear that coffee is the reason I finished so… intensely,” you finish, your eyebrows raised in intrigue and curiosity.

“You really think so?” Joel asks, a victory smile threatening to escape him.

“Yeah,” you tell him. “I think we should test it out. You’re off tomorrow, yeah?”

“Well, I am now.”

End note: The article Joel stumbled upon is a real article LOL. Here it is, in case any of you were interested. The article is from 2023, so by all means, picture 56 year old Joel. I’m imagining him a bit younger in this lil AU, but there’s no explicit age description, so imagine whatever the hell you want😘. And in case you were wondering: yes, he ends up telling you about his intentions behind wanting to drink coffee first. Let's just say... you both end up getting hyperfixated on trying to "prove" this theory even though you both damn well know what the result is. ;) All my love, I hope you guys enjoyed.💚

Be sure to follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs to stay up to date with my stories!!

Utilizing my taglist a few more times just to have a slow transition to my updates blog! @katiexpunk @janaispunk @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @lilynotdilly @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @pedrostories @akah565 @getitoutofmymind @axshadows @survivingandenduring @joels-shitty-puns @its-nebuleuse @axshadows @yorksgirl

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justagalwhowrites · 6 days

Text

Yearling - Ch. 36: Severed

Joel, Tommy and Ellie search for you. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-35 found on Tumblr here.

I'm sorry I couldn't resist.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence and a step beyond. Torture. Mention of past sexual assault (not described). No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only

Length: 8.2k

A/N: I want to state, real quick, that Bambi is NOT going to be sexually assaulted again. This is a highly triggering subject and, given the situation she's in, I understand if folks are bracing for it. That's not going to happen. The threat of it is there but it's not going to happen.

We are into the final arc of Yearling and we are going to see some TLOU 2 OVERLAP again. There isn't any this chapter but there will be in this arc and here's how: a character from that game will be mentioned as will the spoiler-y incident from a few chapters ago. What happens plot wise in this arc is completely separate from the game and entirely original content BUT there is that character overlap and more specific mentions of the incident and the motives behind it. This character returns NEXT CHAPTER. If you're trying to go in blind to season 2, it might be wise to step back. Feel free to send me a DM, I'm happy to answer any and all questions!

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter

Joel had rarely paid much mind to how long it took to get out of Jackson before.

“Tommy,” Maria was stalking after her husband as he, Joel and Ellie headed for the stable. “Be reasonable, you can’t just take off…”

“Sorry, babe, but I can’t just sit here and let ‘em have a piece of her,” Tommy said as they went to the stable. There were the two horses Tommy and Joel had just returned on, the three that had carried the kids back, and some horses you’d been working with. You’d been telling Joel about their progress, how one was nearing well broke and you wanted him to go with you to the shooting range with her soon to get her accustomed to the sound of gunfire.

“Do you have some kind of death wish you haven’t bothered to tell me about?” Maria planted herself in front of her husband, her arms crossed, defiant. “You have responsibilities here, Tommy! People who depend on you, people like me and our fucking son! You don’t get to just take off at your brother’s command anymore!”

Joel stiffened at that. He and Maria had gotten to a good place in their relationship over the years, her moving past the thought that he’d been the driving force behind all her husband’s misdeeds. They’d settled into a mutual respect and eventual affection since he’d come to Jackson, Maria seeming to appreciate what he did for the community and the way he loved her son and Joel admiring her leadership and the way she was a partner to his little brother. He thought they were past this.

Maybe he was wrong.

Tommy took his wife’s shoulders in his hands, his thumbs rubbing little circles against her.

“If it were you, he’d be going with me,” he said gently. “That’s my baby sister out there, Maria. Can’t live with myself if something happens to her and I didn’t do everything I can to stop it. I’m goin’. You can either help and hope we get back soon or you can be pissed while I’m gone but I’m goin’, you can’t stop me.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and went and stood beside Joel, looking over the horses.

“What’s better,” he asked. “Tired mounts or ones that might spook?”

Joel looked at his brother for a moment, thankful that he had him to rely on, and ground his teeth. He didn’t know the answer.

“They’re on foot,” Ellie said, joining them. “Tired is probably better, we’re still going to catch them. But I don’t expect this to be quiet and if we’re on horses that spook, well…”

Joel gave her a stiff nod and went to get the horses ready to leave. He was moving as quickly as he could but it felt slow, everything felt so slow. It felt like he should be running, pushing himself to the brink so he could reach you sooner. Every second you were away from him hurt. It was worse than when you’d left Jackson to search for Savvy in the blizzard. That had been bad enough but at least then he could believe that you were in one piece, that you could take care of yourself.

That wasn’t the case now. He knew you weren’t safe. He knew you weren’t OK. He knew he’d vowed to protect you, the night the two of you made promises to each other in his bed he had sworn to keep you safe and never let anything happen to you.

He’d failed at that.

He’d failed and now he was here, doing what he had to do to make sure he could reach you. It just didn’t feel like enough. Nothing would, not until he held you again.

Tommy and Maria talked in low, harsh voices until they had things situated. Food, water, ammunition, medical kit.

“Tommy,” Joel said, jerking his head toward the horses, voice sharper than he’d meant it to be. His brother jogged over to him, taking the reins of his horse from him.

“The guys who brought the kids back are going to wait here until a few more crews come in,” Tommy said. “Then they’re coming out after us. We can mark a path. With fresher horses, they’ll catch us quick.”

Joel nodded stiffly and the three of them led their horses to the gate, Maria following with her arms crossed over her stomach. In another situation, Joel would have taken the time to talk with her and reassure her. He didn’t have the luxury of time now.

He mounted up as the gates opened, Ellie and Tommy following suit, the three of them riding through the gate the moment there was room.

“Joel!” Maria called after a moment. He looked back at her. “Bring my husband home.”

He watched her for a moment, at the fear on her face and in her wide eyes, a mirror of what he was feeling now. But she was still letting him go. He wasn’t sure he could do the same in her position.

“I will.”

Ellie took the lead, pointing out the spot in the fence where kids left town. Joel ground his teeth and resisted the urge to yell yet again. What good would it do? What was done was done and this lesson was one he doubted Ellie would forget. She didn’t need to be taught it again.

They rode for nearly two hours when they came upon a small clearing and Ellie jumped off her horse before it had even come to a stop.

“We were here,” she said, looking around, almost panicky. “We were here, I know we were, they had us behind that tree…”

She ran over to it, walking around it until Joel couldn’t see her anymore.

“Ellie!” He called. He couldn’t have her out of sight, not right now.

“I was right,” she called back, coming around the tree. “I took a chunk of bark off of it, this is where we were but they’re gone, completely fucking gone, I don’t…”

Joel was less surprised than Ellie.

“They weren’t about to sit and wait for us to find ‘em,” he said. “We need to track ‘em. We’ll find them.”

He, Tommy and Ellie circled the clearing on foot, looking for signs of a trail. It didn’t take them long to find one. Unfortunately, they found more than one.

“The fuckers split up,” Tommy kicked a plant in frustration. “Any way to tell which group had her?”

“Smaller boot prints, maybe,” Joel said, looking closely at the ground.

“But there were other women,” Ellie said. Joel’s head snapped toward her. “They had a few women. I didn’t talk to them but… She wouldn’t be the only one.”

“We can’t split up,” Tommy said. “It’s too goddamn risky, there are too fuckin’ many of ‘em, we have to stick together…”

Joel nodded, trying to think. He tried to keep his shit together but he could feel it happening, the panic setting into his bones. He could hear the blood in his ears, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He was having a hard time taking a full breath, his head spun. He reached out, his hand finding a tree trunk, giving him something to root him to the ground.

“Joel?” Ellie’s hand appeared at his back. “Hey, you can’t die on us right now, we have to get her back, you can’t do this now, you gotta keep it together, you hear me?”

He nodded quickly, closing his eyes for a moment. His mind scrambled for something - anything - to hold him here, something to make him push past the fear and do what he had to do.

He thought of you.

He thought of the first time he’d felt your body against him, on the back of a horse in the snow-covered forest. The first time he’d held you because you wanted him to, how you’d sought comfort in him. The first time he’d kissed you, how your lips had fit softly against his, the quick little breaths you’d made, the way you’d felt so close to him. The first time he’d touched you as his wife, how your body was so familiar to him but was brand new, too, with this new context. You were his, he was yours and he needed to keep himself together long enough to get you home.

He took a deep, shaky breath.

“We follow one trail,” he said. “We either find her or we find the people at the end of it. If she ain’t with ‘em, we get ‘em to tell us where she is.”

“You really think they’re just going to, what, tell you whatever you want to know?” Ellie gaped at him. “They’re not going to just answer your fucking questions, Joel!”

“Wasn’t plannin’ on askin’ nice,” Joel said, stalking back toward the horses. “We follow the middle track. See where it leads.”

Joel knew he should feel some kind of shame about what he was about to do. What he wanted to do, how he wanted to hurt them. He’d never told Ellie the finer points of what he and Tommy used to do - still did, when the need arose. He’d never told her what he did to find her when David had her and he was desperate. She knew he used to kill people, he thought she had some idea of just what that entailed but he’d protected her from the worst of it, the most shameful parts.

Now, he was hungry for it. If he were a dog, he’d be salivating for it, aching to get his jaws around the throat of the man who had taken you from him. He didn’t want to just kill him, that wasn’t enough. It hadn’t been enough the year before when he’d sent him away from Jackson and it wasn’t enough now when he was doing who knows what to you. He was going to enjoy pulling him apart, piece by fucking piece. He almost hoped that Cody wasn’t with the men they were tracking, that he’d find you and have the chance to take every ounce of pain from them before finding Cody and taking it from him, too. He couldn’t even regret the drive to do it or the fact that he knew he could do it and do it well. His only concern, after finding you, was exposing Ellie to that.

But they lived in a harsh world. Maybe it was good for her to know the harsher parts of it.

Joel led the way, slower going now that they were beyond where Ellie knew the group to be. They were carefully tracking a group of what looked like seven people - including two women - for hours. It was dusk when Tommy noticed the signs of people first, giving a low whistle that sounded something like a bird. Joel looked over his shoulder and Tommy nodded toward a patch of sky he could see through the trees. Joel looked up. There was smoke.

He dismounted and tied his horse off, Ellie and Tommy doing the same, before the three of them prowled, quiet and slow, toward the smoke. It wasn’t long before they could smell it, hear the quiet laughs of men. Joel tightened his jaw and his grip on his gun. His heart raced.

The group they came upon largely had their guard down. Joel spotted someone through the trees, beyond the fire, looking like they were patrolling. Otherwise, they weren’t paying any attention. Joel gestured to Tommy and Ellie, sending them behind larger trees, Joel going to one himself. He peered around the thick trunk to find them there, make sure these weren’t just innocents passing through and seeing if he could catch a glimpse of you.

But they weren’t innocents, a woman with her hands bound sitting beside one of the men at the fire, another one - also tied - with her back against a tree. There was no sign of you or Cody.

Tommy met Joel’s gaze, his face set and determined. Joel gave him a stiff nod before turning to Ellie, her own expression hardened with barely controlled rage. She didn’t even look at Joel, too busy watching the men around the tree.

Joel took a deep breath and raised his gun, stepping around the tree and firing, catching the man with his back to them in his head. He fell forward with a thud.

There was a moment of stunned silence, the only sound birds fleeing the crack of the gun. Then, it was chaos, the men scrambling for weapons. One of the women screamed.

“Need two alive!” Joel yelled to his brother and daughter, pressing closer and firing again, felling another man.

Tommy shot next, a third man going down. A bullet whizzed past Joel’s head, close enough that he felt the heat of it on his skin, the shot clipping his ear. He ignored the sharp pain of it, watching as the shot Ellie got off dropped a fourth man. The fact that they’d caught the men when they’d stopped for the night was to their advantage. They were clearly used to traveling in a larger group and running unchallenged, only watching for infected who often made themselves known with crackling breaths, the sound of crunching through the brush and sharp clicks. They weren’t expecting a small group to come in, guns blazing. They were slow getting their weapons, rifles on the ground and out of reach, making picking them off like shooting fish in a barrel. Joel shot the man on watch as he came running toward the fire, his gun raised and aimed at Joel.

Tommy charged forward and grabbed a man who was just getting to his feet, his back toward the three of them. He was just raising his gun when Tommy swung the butt of his rifle at his head, catching the man in the temple and knocking him off balance. He took advantage of the moment and ripped the weapon out of the man’s hands, casting it aside before shoving him to the ground and putting his boot in his chest. Tommy leveled his rifle at his head, holding the man in place.

“Got one!” He yelled to Joel.

There were two men left standing now, one reaching for a gun. Ellie shot him in the shoulder before Joel got a chance to react, sending him sprawling on the ground. The other was smarter. He grabbed the nearest woman and pulled her in front of him as she screamed, pressing a gun to her head, his eyes darting between Joel and Ellie.

“Keep coming and I kill ‘er,” he panted.

“Joel,” Ellie’s eyes darted toward him. “What do we do?”

“Let me go,” the man said, the woman in his grip trembling. “Him too, and I leave her alive.”

Joel didn’t have time for this. He moved quickly, raising his gun and firing, hitting the man in the middle of his forehead. The woman screamed again, covered in his blood and stumbling forward as his body went limp on of her.

“Shit,” Ellie lowered her gun, looking at Joel. “I thought we needed two.”

“Think we got two,” he stalked over to the man Ellie had hit in the shoulder. He was whimpering on the ground, clutching the hole that was gushing blood.

“Please,” he said, eyes wide. Joel ignored him, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and dragging him to the man Tommy still had at gun point. He dropped the man there with a pained groan and he looked to the women, the one who had been a hostage sitting up next to the body of the man who’d had her.

“C’mere,” Joel said. They looked at each other quickly but stayed still. Joel, again, resisted the urge to yell. He didn’t have time for this. “Ellie, cut ‘em loose, tell ‘em how to get to Jackson if they want. Give ‘em whatever they need. See what they know.”

Joel turned his attention back to the man on the ground, going down on one knee beside him. He grabbed his hair in his fist, forcing his eyes to meet his own.

“You’re gonna tell me what I wanna know,” Joel said. “And you’re gonna do it quick. Understand?”

“Why would we tell you a goddamn thing?” The man below Tommy asked, watching Joel. His words were quick, panicky. Joel looked back at him for a moment before he ripped the injured man’s hand away from his wound with one hand and thrust his thumb inside the bullet hole, pressing up into the tendon below his skin. The man thrashed and screamed, the shrill sound sharp and cutting. Joel left his thumb jammed inside him until the other man spoke again, his eyes wide. “Fuck, OK! OK! What do you want to know, we’ll tell you! We’ll tell you, please!”

Joel pulled his thumb free of the man’s body and wiped the blood on a clean spot on his shirt, turning his full attention back to the man below him.

“Should get one thing straight now,” Joel said. His voice was flat. “I don’t mind hurtin’ you. In fact, I like it. Like gettin’ justice for everything you’ve done wrong in this life. I can promise you’ve done a lot wrong and I can promise I can make you pay for every goddamn ounce of it in blood. I know how to make it last. But I’m in a hurry and I want this over quick. It’s in your best interest to give me what I want. Got it?”

The man gave a shaky nod.

“Your boss has got my wife,” Joel said. “You split up. I need to know where he’s takin’ her.”

“He gave us a meet up point,” he said, voice shaking. “We were afraid of someone coming after her, he had us split up, he’s got her not us, I swear…”

Joel ground his teeth.

“Where.”

“I don’t know where he’s taking her,” he said quickly. “I know where we’re supposed to meet him tomorrow, that’s all! I swear, I don’t know where he’s going.”

Joel thrust his thumb inside the gunshot wound again, plunging it deeper, pulling harder at the structure of him as he screamed and writhed.

“No, stop!” The man below Tommy begged. “We don’t know, we don’t know! We just know he was taking her to trade, that’s all we know!”

Joel froze before pulling his thumb from his body. He grabbed the man’s hair again, forcing him to look at him.

“Trade?” His heart was pounding. “Trade for what.”

“Territory,” the man panted. “Please, there’s a guy who wants ‘er, promised us territory if we got her for him, that’s all I know. He was going to try and meet with him, see if they can cut a deal. If he couldn’t find him or couldn’t get what he wanted, he’s meeting us in the morning.”

Joel looked to Tommy, his face hard. Tommy just gave him a nod. It seemed like the truth. Joel turned back to the man.

“You’re gonna tell me where the rendezvous point is,” he said. “And you’re gonna keep it real quiet and then we’re gonna ask your friend the same question and he’d better say the same place as you. Got it?”

Joel leaned in close, the rattle of the man’s pained breaths hot and wet on his ear.

“North, ten miles,” he said. “Where the rivers meet.”

Joel sat back from him and looked to the other man.

“Now you,” he said. “Better say the same damn thing as your fuckin’ friend.”

The man’s eyes darted toward Tommy, who pressed the gun closer.

“Don’t look at me,” Tommy said. “I ain’t savin’ ya. You wanted to live? Shouldn’t have taken my brother’s girl. Answer the question.”

“North of here,” he said, looking back to Joel. “Said they’d be there in the morning, we were just stopping to rest for a bit, that’s all…”

“Where north of here.”

The man’s eyes darted to his friend before looking back at Joel.

“Ten miles or so,” he said. “There’s a spot where two rivers meet…”

Joel nodded slowly and looked to Tommy before getting his knife out.

“No,” the man below him shook his head. “No, I told you what you wanted to know, I didn’t lie, it was the truth I swear it was the truth!”

“Oh, I know it was,” Joel said, adjusting his grip on the knife. “But you took my daughters, took my wife. Not about to just let you live.”

He thrust the knife into the man’s stomach and he gasped, his eyes and mouth gaping wide in a silent scream. Joel angled the blade up, forcing it towards his lungs before twisting it and pulling it free with a harsh tear. He wiped the weapon on the man’s pants before getting to his feet, watching as he tried to hold himself together, not able to take a full breath. He’d drown in his own blood before too long and Joel wanted to watch him do it. This man had taken everything from him. He was owed his suffering.

“Joel,” Tommy said, nodding down at the remaining man at the end of his gun, one who was clearly about to make a run for it. He knew he was done for, he was desperate. “What are we doin’?”

“Shoot ‘im,” Joel said. “Not worth the risk.”

Tommy obeyed, the man dead even had a chance to flinch. Joel went back to watching the the first man gasp and gargle, fighting to breathe and failing. He should feel something, he knew that. He should feel guilt or some kind of pity. He didn’t. He barely even felt satisfaction. You were gone. He was hollow of everything beyond pain and fear and rage.

“Joel,” Ellie’s voice was quiet behind him. He turned to face her, her eyes wide as she looked between him and the dying man. He’d almost forgotten she was there.

“Get the women out?” Joel asked, shifting instinctively to block her view of the man suffering at his feet. She peered around him, anyway.

“Yeah,” she said. “They didn’t know anything. Gave them directions back to Jackson and some guns from these assholes. I don’t know that they’ll end up there but…”

She looked at the man again for a long moment before looking up at Joel.

“Did you get an answer?” She asked. “Do we know where Mom is?”

His chest got tight, hearing Ellie call you that, knowing that he shared children with you and you were gone.

“We know where Cody’s headed,” Joel said. “Let’s get what we can from here and head out.”

The three of them took ammunition and weapons and food from the dead before mounting up, Joel taking the lead again.

It only took a few hours to reach the place the men indicated. The group had stopped here before, Joel could tell. There were signs of fire pits, places where fallen logs had been dragged over for places to sit, cleared brush.

“What do we do now?” Ellie asked.

“We wait,” Joel said, not happy about his answer. How was he supposed to just sit here when you were out there, with them? But he didn’t have another choice.

They got the horses settled and found places to watch and wait where they should see people coming and have the advantage. Joel settled in, Ellie sitting beside him while Tommy kept watch.

“Where’d you learn how to do that?” She asked eventually, quietly into the dark.

“Do what,” he asked, even though he knew.

“Hurt someone like that,” she said. “Make them give you information.”

Joel was quiet for a moment, twisting his wedding band over and over on his finger.

“You know some of what me ’n Tommy did after the outbreak,” he said. “Did some of that, too.”

She nodded slowly.

“You never talk about it.”

Joel shrugged. The sound of crickets seemed loud, louder than they should be.

“Not exactly somethin’ I’m proud of, baby girl.”

“But it’s useful,” she said pointedly.

He sighed.

“I’ve used it a few times since, when it’s important,” he said. “When it’s to protect you or her. It’s not somethin’ that’s good to know how to do.”

“I want to know how to protect people, too,” she said, her voice dark. “I have shit to protect, too, Dad. I want to know how.”

Joel sighed, looking over at her, the outline of her barely visible in the light of the moon as it filtered down through the trees.

He wanted to tell her that she didn’t need to know this stuff. That he would always be there to look after her, to do these ugly things that needed doing. But he knew that wasn’t true.

He’d doomed her to this life, in a way. One where she wanted to know how to pull answers out of someone with pain, how to turn the love you carried for the most important people in the world into a deadly weapon. There was no other way to be in this reality, one with infected and raiders and the last gasp of human kind struggling to continue on. If he’d left the doctor alive, at least, maybe things would be different. Maybe he’d have succeeded without Ellie, maybe the world would have been better for her eventually.

But he would have come after her and there was no point in fixing the world if it had to continue on without her in it. Good, bad, indifferent, there was no point to any of it if the price was her life. Hers or yours or Savvy’s, the three of you were all that mattered. And he liked knowing he had skills he could fall back on if he needed them.

“We’ll take care of what needs doin’ now,” Joel said. “Then we can talk.”

The three of them took turns keeping watch. Joel wasn’t able to sleep. Instead, he thought of you. How he’d had to coax you into life in Jackson, how you’d come to find your place there, how you’d chosen to do all that with him at your side.

There was a lot in this life he knew he didn’t deserve. He’d never deserved Sarah, that was for damn sure. The world hadn’t deserved her, either. He’d squandered the gift that was her existence, let her down when she’d needed him the most and he’d bourn that weight the rest of his life. He didn’t deserve Ellie, either. He certainly didn’t deserve you, something so strong but soft, vibrant but centering. You were meant for something more than him but you’d chosen him, anyway. He remembered when your fingers first brushed his, when he first heard you play guitar, when he first saw how you loved his daughter like she was your own. He wasn’t sure how he was meant to keep going if he didn’t get you back. What would be the point? Ellie was grown now. Savvy had survived all on her own for years and Ellie had taken her under her wing. They didn’t need him. But he needed you.

Dawn was just beginning on the horizon when Joel heard it, the sound of people coming in from the north. He roused Ellie and Tommy and the three of them stood, lying in wait amongst the trees, rifles at the ready.

Joel wanted to come out guns blazing but then he saw Cody, riding on horseback with just two other men.

They weren’t outnumbered. You weren’t with them.

Joel readied to step out from the trees, rifle raised.

“Joel,” Tommy hissed.

“Go around the side,” he said, voice low. “Kill the others. But he’s mine.”

He moved from behind shelter then, weapon leveled at Cody’s chest.

“Cody!” Joel called, watching as the men’s heads all whipped around to focus on him, scrambling for rifles. “You have what’s mine.”

Cody lifted a hand to his henchmen and they lowered their weapons as he smirked at Joel.

“Think she was mine before she was yours,” he sneered. “Seems to me I just took back what got away.”

“Where is she,” Joel said, prowling closer, straining to keep his voice calm.

“Back where she belongs,” he said, fishing in his pocket for something. He found it, pulling it out, unwrapping it from a kerchief and throwing it onto the leaves at Joel’s feet. “But you can have the part of her you laid claim to.”

Joel looked down and his vision narrowed to a sharp, bloody point. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, the soreness of his legs and back and the pain at his ear that had been nagging at him suddenly gone. His hands shook as he dropped the rifle and lowered himself, slowly, to the ground. Lying there were two fingers. Your fingers. The wedding band that had been there since Joel had slipped it onto you was bloody, ragged flesh dangling from the ring he’d made you.

Something inside of Joel snapped then. It was a sharp, clean break, one that he could he could feel deep at the core of him. A severing of his humanity, a setting aside of the things that made him who he was. The love he held for his family, the care he had for the place he called home, the remaining parts of him that were gentle and good - those things were closed to him now. Joel Miller had been called monster many times in his life but he knew he’d never become one. Not truly. He knew it because this had always been there, lurking below the surface, brought forward when he needed it most but always controlled, always contained. It wasn’t contained now. It couldn’t be.

Joel left the gun on the ground, gently picking up your fingers - sticky and cool - and putting them delicately in his pocket before getting to his feet.

“Thought about sending you back with her whole hand but,” Cody shrugged. “Mitchum has use for it. Nothing she can’t do down a few fingers, though.”

Joel didn’t even see Ellie and Tommy getting into position when he roared and lunged for Cody, ready to kill him with his bare hands.

***

The Day Before

“Move.”

You glared at Cody, your wrists chained in front of you.

“Not telling you again,” he said. “They’re still close enough, we could run ‘em down if you want to try me.”

Your stomach got tight.

“Fine,” you said. “Let’s go.”

He split his men into three groups, hauling the man you’d killed to the brush and leaving his body behind. There were three women you hadn’t seen yet, one going with one of the groups, two with another. You didn’t get a chance to say anything to either of them, just sharing a look of desperation before you were led away.

“You’re going to regret this,” you said as he shoved you forward.

“Why, because you’re fucking guard dog is going to run me down?” He sneered. “Think we’ll handle him just fine. Besides, by the time he finds us, you’ll be long gone.”

You followed his command, trudging through the forest and trying to find some way to leave a trail to follow. Joel would come for you. It would likely be hours yet before he was back from patrol, hopefully long after Ellie and Savvy made it back to town. You knew he’d come looking for you the moment he discovered you were gone, that he’d do anything to get to you. You just needed to make sure he could find you and that you were in one piece when he did.

“Why are you doing this?” You asked once you’d been walking for hours, looking at Cody. “You said you knew it was wrong, you helped me. Now you’re doin’ this? Takin’ me and other women?”

“Let’s just say I learned my lesson with you, Doll,” he said. “Could try to be a ‘good’ man all I wanted, try to do the ‘right’ thing but it wouldn’t get me anywhere. Not like there’s much left here to live for, right? I should just take what I want while I can, no one is going to give it to me, even if I deserve it.”

“Deserve it?” You stopped and turned to face him. “You think you deserved something from me? You held me prisoner, you fucking raped me, you…”

His backhand caught you off guard, sending you sprawling to the ground, unable to catch yourself with your bound hands. He stood astride over you, grabbing your face sharply and forcing you to look at him.

“Don’t fucking call it that,” he hissed. “That’s not what it was.”

You spat in his face.

“Fuck you.”

He squared his jaw, like he was considering doing something more to you before he straightened, wiping your spit from his cheek.

“Get her up,” he said. “We’ll stop here for a bit, take a break. Make her take a piss, get her cleaned up a little. Maybe we’ll have some fun before we hand her over.”

You hoped the fear didn’t show on your face, that the way your stomach dropped and heart stuttered wasn’t obvious.

It’s not like you didn’t know, consciously, what this was all leading to, what you were going back to. You’d been there for long enough before, you knew what it was and what this meant.

But you weren’t sure you could survive it again. It had nearly killed you before. If you hadn’t escaped when you had, you weren’t sure how much longer you would have really lasted living that way and now you were going back to it. It would be worth it to protect your children but the fear of it was still there, the claws of it sharp and harsh inside you.

Cody smirked.

“Maybe I’ll show you just how nice I was before,” he said. “Show you what you took for-granted.”

Two men pulled you roughly to your feet and shoved you into the trees, off the trail you’d been walking. Your chest got tight and your stomach turned and you found yourself flexing your fingers, clenching and unclenching your hands into fists as you tried to focus. Your vision threatened to narrow but you forced yourself to see beyond your own body, think beyond the fact that your lungs couldn’t seem to fill and your head was getting light.

The men pushed you for a few minutes away from the rest, toward a stream. One stayed further back, watching the forest for signs of infected or someone who might come to take you.

“Alright,” the other said, nodding to you. “You heard ‘im. Piss, get cleaned up.”

“You think I’m gonna just do that with you watching?” You sneered, brows raised.

He stalked forward, drawing his gun and pressing it to your chin.

“You really think I won’t blow your goddamn head off?” He asked, his breath reeking of rot and liquor.

“No,” you smirked back. “Your boss has you by the balls. You can’t do shit to me.”

He stepped back and you saw the strike coming that time, dodging it enough that he caught your cheekbone more than your chin and you stayed standing.

“I can do that,” he snapped. “And I’ll do it again.”

“Go ahead,” you said. “Because you’re a little bitch. I’ve had good sex that hurt worse than that.”

He bared his teeth and he went for you again.

But he was stupid and big and slow and you knew where he was going to be now. You dodged him, not fully thinking and with no real plan. He stumbled where you’d been standing and you stepped behind him, looping your arms around his neck and pulling back so the chain constricted on his throat.

He choked and gasped, dropping his gun on instinct as he clawed at your arms, trying rip himself free and trying to make a sound but you were pulling too hard, the other man too far to hear or see what was happening.

The weight of him thrashing against you sent you off balance and you fell, taking him down with you, his body heavy on top of yours. But you didn’t give in, keeping the chain tight over his throat as he kicked and flailed. You held it there until he went limp and you released him, shoving his body off yourself and panting for breath as you did. You didn’t have time to get the feeling back in your body or to ease the panic, though. It was sheer fucking luck the other man who was standing just out of sight hadn’t heard something and you had to take care of this now.

You found the gun where the man you’d killed - thought you’d killed, at least, you weren’t about to risk shooting him - had dropped it and took a guess at what direction to run in.

You didn’t make it far.

“Hey!” You heard the crush of leaves, someone moving for you. “Fuck, she’s running!”

You turned and shot, the first bullet going wide as your hands shook but you were able to keep it together enough to get off another shot, this one hitting him square in the chest and he dropped like a stone.

You kept running.

You weren’t sure how long you ran for when you heard them, the men closing in on you. You couldn’t afford to look back and take the time to shoot, you had to keep moving, even as the sound pressed closer and your head was swimming. And then a hand closed on the collar of your shirt - Joel’s shirt - and ripped you back and down. You twisted on the ground, trying to aim the gun but it was kicked away from you.

“You’re gonna regret that you little bitch,” the man panted over you. “We could’ve made this easy on you. We ain’t now.”

He hauled you to your feet by your bound hands and forced you back to where the group had stopped, finding the two other men who had been sent after you on the way. Cody was standing where you’d stopped before, a small fire built on a patch of dirt in the middle of the trail.

“You really think that was the smartest thing you could have done?” He asked, his voice almost eerily calm.

“Did you really think I was just gonna let you hand me over?” You replied. “That I’d just go quietly into being a prisoner?”

“I guess that’s why Mitchum’s so obsessed with you, isn’t it?” He asked, prowling closer. You wanted to shrink away but you couldn’t, not with the man at your back. “Because you just keep that fight in you. You didn’t give up like the others and he’s a man who likes a little fight.”

He nodded toward the stump of a tree and the man at your back shoved you to it, forcing you to your knees beside it.

“Thing is,” Cody said, pulling his knife free of its sheath at his belt. “You don’t need to be… intact for the shit he likes best about you.”

Your eyes darted. You were surrounded, there was nowhere you could go and nothing you could reach.

“Don’t be too worried about it,” he continued, kneeling on the other side of the stump. “Think he’d be pretty pissed if we took your whole hand, for example. But I don’t think he’ll miss a few fingers.”

Your heart raced, the blood pounding in your ears.

“That a risk you want to take?” You fought to keep your voice calm as you clutched your hands tightly to your body. “You really want to go through all this trouble for nothing?”

He shrugged.

“Think we’ll be fine.”

The man at your back took your wrist in his grasp and shoved your arms down to the jagged wood of the stump, your hands clenched in tight fists. Cody took your left one and pulled at your fingers, trying to pry it open as you grimaced and fought him on it. After a moment, he gave up.

“Fine,” he said. “Don’t want to cooperate?”

He took the knife and slammed it through your forearm, on the side of it so it missed bone, making you scream as the blade went through the muscle and skin and into the wood on the other side. Your hand went limp on instinct and Cody spread your fingers with one hand, holding the other out. Another man handed him a knife and he lined it up with the base of your ring and pinky finger, smirking a little as he did.

“Would you look at that,” he traced your wedding band and you tried to look at your hand through the blur of pain and tears. “The feral woman got hitched. You marry that animal of yours, that it?”

You considered begging. If you thought it had even a chance at working, you’d have done it. But it didn’t.

“Fuck you,” you said instead.

“Think this’ll make for a nice keepsake of you, if he ever comes looking,” he said, pressing the knife in just enough that you could feel it, even through the pain of the blade still lodged in your arm. “Wedding ring won’t mean much where you’re going, anyway.”

He started cutting then, the automatic response your body had to pull away ripping and tearing against the knife holding you to the wood. You couldn’t look away from it, even though what little there was in your stomach was threatening to come up and the pain had deafened all the sound around you. You weren’t sure if you were screaming or not but you couldn’t breathe and couldn’t think as you watched part of your body be cut away.

Cody finished, wiping the knife on your shirt - Joel’s shirt - before passing it back to one of his men. He held your bloody, jagged fingers up, turning them slowly in front of his face. You could hear again, the ragged sound of your breath and the rustle of leaves on the trees, the breeze moving through as though you weren’t being dismantled on the forest floor.

“Think your guard dog will even still want you now?” He asked, holding them in front of you. Your blood dropped from them onto the sleeve of the shirt. “Not sure he’ll be interested in such… damaged goods.”

You stared at the fingers in his grip in disbelief. It didn’t seem real, the things you’d used to play guitar and grip the reins of your horse and hold your husband’s hand were separate from you now. You remembered, for a moment, marrying Joel. The clarity of it was almost visceral, how he’d taken the ring that was now slick with your blood and slipped it onto the finger that was dangling before your eyes. It was a part of you then. It wasn’t now.

Cody held his empty hand out and the man he’d given the knife to returned it.

“No,” you shook your head, your voice wet and raspy. “Please, I…”

“Not taking anything else,” he said, his tone almost kind. “Just going to make sure you don’t bleed out on us.”

With that, he pressed the blade to the place he’d cut part of you away and you screamed, the metal scalding hot. You realized they must have put it in the fire, using the heat to cauterize the wound. Without warning, one of the men pulled the knife that was still in your arm free and the heated blade moved there, too. You could smell your skin burning, the man at your back holding you still as your body fought to escape the pain of it. They moved you around like a rag doll, cauterizing the other side of your arm, too, before stepping back from you.

“There,” Cody stood, handing the knife off and taking a kerchief from his pocket, wrapping your bloody fingers in it before stashing them away. “Now you should know I’m not fucking around. Get up. We’ve wasted enough time on this shit and Mitchum won’t wait on us forever.”

The man behind you pulled you to your feet by your shoulders and you swayed on your feet for a moment, your head swimming before you doubled over, vomiting mostly bile before your legs gave out, the man catching you before you hit the ground.

“Shit,” Cody’s voice sounded far away. “We’ll have to find a way to move her…”

You passed out.

When you woke up, it was dark, a hand around your jaw.

“There she is,” Cody said, releasing you and patting your cheek twice. “Need you up and walking, can’t trade you half dead. Move.”

You tried to orient yourself, get some kind of understanding. You weren’t where you’d been when you’d passed out. You were on some kind of makeshift litter, your left arm and hand throbbing dully. Your hand was bandaged. Cody grabbed a fistful of your shirt, pulling you upright and you all but collapsed against him, stumbling as you tried to find your footing. The second you did, you pulled away from him. You couldn’t bear to touch him, even if that meant you ended up on the ground again.

“Just gotta make it about 100 yards,” he nodded toward a flickering glow in the distance. “Then you’re not my problem anymore.”

He nudged you in that direction and you moved, almost mindlessly. You weren’t strong enough to fight it. You were barely strong enough to walk. You cradled your injured arm to your body as best you could, watching as the glow of the fire drew closer.

“Stop right there,” an unfamiliar voice said, a man coming through the trees with his rifle raised. But he lowered it as he drew closer, looking the group you were with up and down. “Cody. Starting to wonder if you weren’t going to make it.”

“Got held up,” he said. “But I got what he’s after, if he still wants to meet.”

The guard just jerked his head toward the fire and led the way, you trailing along behind him with Cody and his men at your back.

The fire was in the middle of a large clearing, one with a cluster of about 20 men around it, the man you feared more than any other sitting at the back of it.

A wide smile came over his face when he saw you, the spread of it sinister and slow.

“Well well,” Mitchum said, getting to his feet and walking closer. He was still so much bigger than you, tall and broad and you knew just how well he could force you to do what he wanted. “The prodigal son returns, with my favorite toy no less.”

“Told you I could get her,” Cody said, pushing you toward him. “And I believe we had an agreement.”

“Sure, sure,” Mitchum waved him off before looking you up and down, just feet away from you now. Your head spun. “Jackson is yours when we take it down, as is anyone who survives. S’long as you remember who gave it to you.”

Mitchum reached out, grabbing your injured hand roughly and you cried out with it as he pulled your arm toward him.

“The fuck is this?” He held it up. “Thought I told you I wanted her intact, there’s no deal if you fucking maimed her.”

Cody shrugged.

“She killed two of my men,” he said.

Mitchum dropped your hand and clenched his jaw before snatching his gun from its holster and shooting Cody’s man who was at your side, making you flinch away from the sound.

“You think I give a fuck how many of your men make it?” He asked. “You think their lives matter? Got fuckin’ news for you, theirs don’t and neither does yours so you better do a damn good job of explaining why you brought her to me damaged.”

“She tried to take off,” Cody said, eyes darting down to the man who was dead on the ground. “Had to do something to keep her under control. Figured you’d want her at all, even if that meant damaged.”

Mitchum holstered the gun with a huff and pulled you away from Cody, your skin crawling where he touched you.

“Well, she’s back where she belongs now,” he passed you off to one of his men before turning back to Cody. “Jackson’s yours, when we take it.”

“And I want horses,” Cody said. “For my trouble.”

Mitchum seemed to think for a moment before giving him a stiff nod.

“Fine, three horses,” he said, waving them forward. “Take ‘em and go. Don’t want to see you again for a while or else I might change my mind.”

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Cody smirked before looking to you. “Told you you should have given me what I deserved.”

You didn’t say anything. Instead you just stood there, in the hold of one of Mitchum’s henchmen, watching as the man who’d stolen your freedom rode off into the night.

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust @ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost @beccerjune @mumma-moonchild @netonetoneto @mellymbee @purplelye @n7cje @flugazi @evyiione @randomhoex @aliengirl99 @orcasoul @reds-ramblings @pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel @jenispunk @panda-pascal @sarap-77 @flugazi @your-slutty-gf @daniegraceg @partyofone3413 @cumberpegg @noisynightmarepoetry. @fifia-writes @grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123 @ashleyfilm @arizonadreamingg

A/N: I know it's a rough chapter but... feral!Joel?

We've only seen the beginning of him, he's about to go on a rampage like no other I can promise you that.

Also, I'm sorry for making this chapter quite so brutal. I really didn't want them to get off easy in this situation, I wanted to make sure we know that there are going to be some long term repercussions from all this - in this case, Bambi's missing fingers. They live in a brutal world and they're facing brutal things and I wanted this to be reflective of that.

Thanks for sticking with the story. I really do love you all!

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #yearling #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x oc

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june-pop · 7 months

Text

The Aftermath

Summary: In which you left the backlash get to you after revealing your relationship with Ni-ki to the public.

Idol!Riki x Non-Idol!Reader

Warnings: angst, starvation

Broski’s ngl this was kind of rushed.

How did this happen? How did it all so quickly go downhill?

Your thoughts were all over the place as you watch all the threats and horrible comments fill your DMs. Tears well up in your eyes as you read through them.

“There’s no way Riki would go out with someone like you”

“Honestly he probably just pity’s her. I mean she looks like a pig”

“Honestly how disappointing”

This was the aftermath of you and Riki officially revealing your relationship to the public. You thought you had mentally prepared yourself for the backlash, but it seems you thought wrong.

It’s not like there were no supporters. You both had received lots of love and support. However, when looking at a blank white wall with that one singular black dot, you would notice the imperfection of the black dot first right? That how it is now. Despite all the support you can’t help but mind the toxicity being thrown your way.

You find yourself getting up from the comfort of your bed and looking the mirror. Lifting up your shirt and taking note of your bloated stomach from your lunch you just had. You can’t help but list off all your own imperfections on your body.

“Maybe it’d be better to skip dinner today..”

The next morning Riki rushes to get ready and head to your house as he wanted to hang out with you. Knocking on your door, you answer it. “Riki! You came early” you exclaimed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders bringing him in for a hug. He reciprocates the gesture, kissing your forehead before walking inside. “Well I missed you, and also wanted to see how you were doing after revealing everything to the world.” He doesn’t miss the way you smile falters for a split second.

You put your hands behind your back and start fidgeting with them. “Oh well I’m fine, honestly.” You look down. “Are you sure? You know you can talk to me.” He steps closer to you but you bring your face back up with a huge smile as if nothing’s wrong. “Yeah! Of course I’m fine. Anyway what did you want to do? We have the whole morning to ourselves before you have practice. Let’s not waste it by standing here!” You state successfully changing the subject.

“Well I was hoping we could go out for breakfast together. You know let me treat you this morning.” Riki says as he comes up behind you. The thought of going out in public with him right now sends shivers down your spine. Not only that, but going out to eat. If anyone spots you two the comments would probably get worse.

“Uh, no thanks I’m not really feeling like it right now, plus I already had a smoothie before you came.” You quickly said as you gestured towards your empty cup on the counter. Riki’s face dropped in confusion. “What? Only a smoothie” he couldn’t believe you. “Oh Come on, you and I both know I don’t have much of an appetite on the morning anyway. How about instead we go painting. It’s been a while since we’ve done that together.” You reply to him with a smile and walk away. “I’m gonna go change real quick!”. Leaving the boy stunned and even more confused. While it’s true you don’t have much of an appetite in the morning normally you’d never decline an offer like that so quickly. What’s going on?

Unfortunately it kept going on like that for a couple of days. You trying to skip meals to be someone worthy of his love. And him trying to figure out why you’re avoiding him taking you out. That is until one day.

Riki wanted to surprise you since he got off practice early. So he came to your home with roses in hand and used the spare key you gave him to come him. At first he didn’t see or hear you. As he walked around he found your bathroom door open. He could see your figure standing in front of the mirror. Before he could come up to you, in the mirror he saw you were..crying?

“God what am I doing wrong?!” You yelled out. He noticed you were looking down at something. Moving a bit closer he saw you were on top of a scale. Weighing yourself. But why? Was all the blonde boy could think of.

You stepped off the scale and turned to the mirror slightly lifting you shirt to show your stomach. “Why can’t you just go away. How can you expect to keep him when you look like this.” You yell at yourself. Seeing you like this broke his heart. Why are you doing this to yourself? How could you say all these bad things when he sees you perfect the way you are?

He’s had enough of hearing your sobs and walks toward you. You don’t notice him until you feel a pair of arms wrap around your waist. Causing you to flinch harshly, almost elbowing him in the gut before making eye contact with him on the mirror. “Riki!” You stare in disbelief and quickly wipe your tears, doing a poor job at it by the way. “Whe- why are you here? Don’t you have practice?” You question as you turn around in his arms facing him but not quite looking at him.

“You should’ve told me you were coming, I would’ve made myself more presentabl-“ “Y/N.” He cut you off. Your body stiffened from his tone. Scared at what he might say next. He stared at your shaking body. Tears stained on your face. His own eyes couldn’t help but tear up seeing the love of his life in such a state. “How long?”

Oh… That question. The one you wish you didn’t have to answer. “Riki I-“

“How long? Please, just tell me”

The crack in his voice caused you to look up at him, and see the way so many emotions swirl in his eyes. Sadness, anger, but most importantly. Concerned. Who wouldn’t be. You look down and sigh. “Since we opened up about our relationship”. You felt his grip on you tighten as he pulls you in for a big, tight hug. You can’t help but let more tears go as your body starts shaking again.

“Why didn’t you say anything? You know you can talk to me.” He stammered out. This was his fault. He thought. He should’ve payed more attention. He should’ve been there for you, to comfort you. “I’m so sorry I didn’t notice sooner.”

Now you were confused. “This isn’t your fault Riki. I just really wanted to be someone who you looked good with.” “What are you talking about?” He pulled back. “You look amazing just the way you are. I fell in love with you for so many reasons one of them being because I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

You stared up at him in awe from his confession. “B-but the fans, they-“ “is that what this is about. Because of toxic fans.” He grabbed your arms and turned you around towards the mirror. “You know what I see right now. I see my talented, beautiful girlfriend in the mirror. Despite her tears and messy hair I still can’t help but love her because she’s that mesmerizing.” He Remarked. You face heats up, “Riki stop-“ you try to say before you get cut off Again. “No. You need to hear this”

“Y/N, I love you. No one else gets to decide that for me. Not the fans, not the company, not even you. I decide that because it’s my life, my decision. I saw you and I’ve only wanted to get to know you. To talk to you. To hold you. To love you. And that’s never going to change.”

At this point you’re both crying in each others arms. “Please never forget that. Fuck everyone else, they’re all jealous assholes who have nothing better to do.” Riki snapped out. You couldn’t help but let out a giggle from his statement.

Riki’s heart fluttered from hearing that. “There she is. I missed that smile. The genuine one. The one that stole my heart in the first place.” He smiled smiled and turned you back around towards him. “Now please, promise me you’ll take care of yourself, and talk to me when you need someone.”

You nod your head and look into his eyes. “I promise.” He lets a sigh and brings you into a big hug.

How could you be so blind. You were so focused on other people’s opinions on your relationship you forgot to take notice of the most important one. “I love you” you whispered. At first you thought you said it too quietly for him to notice until his arms tightened around him you. “I love you more.”

#enha imagines #enha niki #enhypen #enhypen riki #ni ki #ni ki x reader #nishimura niki #enhypen x reader #ni ki fluff #nishimura riki

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starstruckwillows · 1 year

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dad!headcanons — harry potter ♡

requested by @inthehoneymoonwithconnorrk800 <3

harry potter x fem!reader, dad!harry, headcanons, fluff, headcanons for biological and adopted children

harry potter as a dad

biological children

•harry wasn’t sure if he wanted kids. he hadn’t had the best examples of parenting, he was never around young children or babies

•but when you came to him, pregnant, it felt like (almost) all of his worries fizzled. they weren’t as important as you, and the child you’d created together

•he visited his parents’ graves when he found out. to say hi, to ask for advice, to maybe just tell them they were going to be grandparents

•goes to see andromeda tonks too, where she’s raising teddy lupin. realises how much this child is something he wants

•when the time comes, he’s an amazing father

•splits responsibilities with you, never lets you end up doing everything

•has such a bond with his kid, and it’s not long before he’s tentatively bringing up the subject of more

•toys everywhere, he’s not a must-be-tidy-at-all-times dad. we’re talking magical train sets, muggle rubber ducks, doll houses, push cars, everything he passes in a shop somewhere

•naturally such a girl dad, but he is so happy with a little boy too. anything he can love

•makes such a big deal out of birthdays, really goes overboard

•raised around so many cousins and friends, massive family times, so many game nights gone wrong

•sincerely apologizing for the attention being a potter will bring his family, but they don’t really mind. at least he’s famous for a good thing

•as they get older, and they’re off to hogwarts, of course he’s missing them. he doesn’t want to stifle them, but the letters are twice a week, at least

•and your kids were raised well, with love, so they have no problem writing back to them all, and they know their home is always a safe place

•harry sleeps well at night knowing he created the home he wanted

•will cry at their weddings, if they happen

adopted children

•three scenarios — you’ve had a biological child, you want more, and for whatever reason that is, you two decide to adopt (harry’s fully supportive of this)

•or, for whatever personal reasons, you can’t or don’t want a biological child (harry’s fully supportive of this)

•or, not long after the war, the wizarding world is still overrun with orphans. there are leaflets everywhere begging couples to adopt. you wanted to expand your family as it was, and harry’s worries were overcome both by his previously mentioned visits, and his desire to not let voldemort ruin the lives of any more children

•whatever it is, he loves them like his own. because they are his own.

•all the prior headcanons, because nothing changes for either of you. your family may not be nuclear, but why should it have to be?

•if anyone pokes fun at their adoption, you best believe harry is up there like a flash to get someone seriously scolded, and you aren’t far behind him

•when the time comes to tell your kids, harry is perfect with it. he knows what to say. you don’t leave it too long either, harry knows what it is to feel lied to about your family

•if any relationships struggle around that time, the strain is physically clear on harry. but he waits for them to be ready, knowing how personal it is

in conclusion

•in any situation, harry loves his children

•he’s a good dad. nobody is perfect, he’ll maks mistakes, but not with the gravity of the one’s he feared

🏷️ — @faeriieblush @poppet05 @it-be-me-ella @juneberrie @ell0ra-br3kk3r @meredarling

#starstruckwillows #lightning era #golden trio era #harry potter #harry potter fluff #harry potter hurt/comfort #dad!harry #dad!harry potter #harry potter x reader #dad!harry potter x reader #headcanons #harry potter htc #harry potter headcanons #harry james potter #harry james potter x reader

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amyispxnk · 5 months

Text

My Sunshine

Summary - Things are getting bad again and you know Joel would be there to help you in the blink of an eye, but you can't help but feel guilty for even feeling this way - so burdening him with your emotions is out of the question. You try to hide how you feel from him, but you know you can't. He knows you too well.

A/N: SO. i am positively struggling at the moment. with life and just everything. and my lonely ass is in need of some comfort, especially when i feel like.. yk, shit. and feeling like doing shit to myself which is not very good 😊. but i could not find a single comforting fic about self harm, and i get that it’s a very sensitive subject - but my god i need this comfort so please let me indulge for a moment.

And going back to how self harm is a very sensitive subject - please heed the warnings and tread carefully. this entire thing is about self harm and comfort when struggling with it, so please be cautious.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader (could possibly be read as gn but I've used things like sweet girl and his girl so)

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: self harm (not explicitly described or anything, but reader struggles with it), fluff, comfort, established relationship, angst, one mention of drugs (i used it as a.. simile, or whatever, nobody’s taking or has taken any drugs!), crying, kisses, pet names, bad thoughts, questioning the purpose of life, brief perspective change, INCREDIBLY BRIEF MENTION OF SMUT (one word.)

DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.

Joel opens the door with a sigh, toeing off his boots and calling out your name as he walks into the living room, wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around you, breathe in your comforting scent and bask in your equally comforting embrace after a hard day of work. Normally you’d be in the living room, watching TV, maybe reading a book, or in the kitchen, cooking dinner, baking something new you’d found on the internet. But you weren’t today. It’s eerily quiet and he calls out your name again, breaking the silence with his loud voice as he walks up the stairs.

“Dariln’?” He asks as he pushes open the door to your bedroom; you’re not there either. He’s ready to start panicking since he’s checked just about every room of the house when he hears your voice coming from the bathroom.

“Just a minute!” You say, and he exhales with relief when you walk out of the room and up to him, giving him a small smile. It’s one of those smiles which doesn’t make your face look brighter or your eyes crinkle at the corners, no, it’s one of those smiles which you offer to him quickly to reassure him that everything’s okay, please don’t worry about me when you’re probably so stressed already.

“How was work?” You ask as your arms come around his neck and you hug him, breathing him in, holding him a little tighter than usual.

“Was a little tiring today, our supplier messed up the size of the headers and- Sorry, probably don’t mean nothin’ to ya.” He trailed off with a sheepish smile as his right hand came to the back of your neck, tilting your head back a bit so he could kiss you.

You melted into the kiss, eyes fluttering closed as you lost yourself in it. No matter how many times you kissed him, you’d never get enough of the feeling that came with it. Joel's kiss was like a drug, and you were addicted.

His hands skim up your sides but you pull back abruptly, wrinkling your nose. “You smell, Joel. Go shower.” You chuckle weakly and hit him playfully on the chest.

“Mm, I thought you like ‘em a little dirty?” He teased, making you scoff and shake your head as a smirk crept onto your lips.

“Not today. Get.” You told him sternly, still smiling nonetheless as he walked past you to go shower. The smile slipping from your face with ease as the door slides shut behind you.

A few hours later, showers have been taken, dinner made and eaten, and the both of you are now sat on the couch. Joel decided it was a good idea to watch a movie, putting on his favourite - Curtis and Viper 2 - much to your dismay. You swore that you’ve seen this damn movie so many times you’d be able to quote the entire thing word for word, but he still put it on, insisting that it was a classic and it wasn’t like you had any better ideas anyway.

You'd both come to learn that during movie nights, you'd always end up either falling asleep on his shoulder or you were both fucking before even the halfway mark.

Tonight you were curled into Joel's side, silently watching the movie with him. Well, not really watching the movie, just kind of watching the screen. Staring at the pixels and letting the sounds of the film and the world around you in through one ear, out the other.

You were lost in your thoughts, that was happening more often nowadays, mindlessly picking at your nails as you pondered on questions that were far too heavy to ponder this late at night. What's the point of life if we're all going to die one day? Why am I always so hopeless? Why can I never find the purpose in anything? Why am I getting worse at hiding these bad feelings? What if I get too miserable one day and Joel stops loving me? What if I'm just a burden to him?

The final two questions hit you hard, making you do a sharp inhale as you suddenly sit up, startling Joel in the process.

He turns to face you wearily, eyebrows furrowed. “Baby? What's wrong?” He asks quietly, arm coming around you and pulling you back into his side as he kisses your hair.

“‘s nothing. Sorry. Just tired- I think I'm gonna go to sleep.” You mumble, gently extracting yourself from his hold.

He frowns deeper. “Y’ don't wanna stay with me and finish the movie? Even though I know you weren't watching.” He attempts to tease lightly, wanting to lift the mood.

“No, um- you stay and watch it, that's okay. I'm gonna go to sleep now. Goodnight.” You say hurriedly, forgetting to even give him a goodnight kiss before you're up the stairs and in the bedroom, closing the door a little too quickly and praying the slam of it didn't further his concern.

Your back is pressed against the door as you grip the handle tight, eyes squeezing shut as you try to slow your breathing. It's not working, and you just want it to stop. You don't want to be upset, you don't want to feel like you're drowning in your own emotions again, you don't want Joel to find you crying upstairs in your room.

And the only thing you can think of doing is harming yourself. It's been on your mind a lot recently, as your sadness starts to get a little bit too much and you can't find any way to extinguish it. It feels like it's consuming you and you can only think about the last time things got like this. About how you dealt with it.

It would be so easy. You knew how to do it. But you couldn't bring yourself to. You'd be failing him, you saw how upset he was when he found out what you were doing last time and you didn't want to make him feel bad ever again.

You just didn't want to be a burden.

The door slams upstairs and Joel’s frown deepens. His hand goes for the remote, turning off the TV. He's seen this movie enough times, he thinks.

He slowly goes up the stairs and makes his way to your bedroom, wanting to make sure everything's okay.

You were definitely a little off tonight, zoning out and not being as talkative as you normally were, giving him a reason to already be a little concerned. Then you practically ran upstairs a minute ago, seeming panicked and making him worry even more.

He's at the door now, gently coaxing it open, and he's met with darkness. Darkness and silence.

He whispers your name, closing the door behind him as he flicks the light switch on, jumping slightly when he sees that you're right there, sat on the edge of the bed.

You turn to face him and he immediately notices how your face is wet with tears, eyes swollen and red, hair slightly dishevelled.

His heart effectively breaks at the sight of you.

“Baby- what's wrong?” He asks, concerned as ever, as he rushes over to you.

You rub at your eyes furiously, blinking back any further tears as you swallow.

“Nothing- nothing's wrong, Joel-” Your voice wavers as you speak and there's clearly something wrong - why you try so hard to hide it from him is beyond him.

He gently pulls your hands away from your face and holds them together in your lap.

“There's somethin’ wrong, sweetheart. I can see it.” He says softly, his thumb brushing away another tear that’s slowly trailing down your cheek.

You're completely silent, lip quivering.

You don't want to be a burden. If you tell him, he'll get upset and then he'll try to help you, even though you feel like nobody can. You'll just end up being a burden.

You shake your head, squeezing his hand as you do.

“Baby please. Talk to me.” He pleads with you, cupping your cheek and looking at you with so much care and worry that it makes you want to sob all over again.

“I just feel like shit.” You mumble so quietly he almost missed it. “I-” you start, but you just sigh frustratedly, digging your nails into your palms. “I feel.. really bad, again. It almost feels worse this time and it just makes me want to hurt myself. To make it all stop.” You say through clenched teeth, upset and afraid and so, so angry with yourself for admitting how you feel. You do it so much easier now but only because you and Joel had worked so hard to get rid of these defensive walls you'd built around yourself, walls that forced you to conceal your feelings and bottle your emotions.

“Oh, sweet girl.” He frowns, sitting on the bed and turning you to face him a little more. You don't want to look at him. You don't want to see him getting upset and worrying about you. You can't bear it.

So you keep your eyes clamped shut and continue talking. “My thoughts were just getting so.. so loud. And I don't know how to make it stop, and I almost- I just thought it would help.” You're shaking, he can feel it. Little shivers across your entire body, making your breath tremble as you exhale and inhale shakily. “I'm so sorry, Joel. I'm sorry.” You start to sob and he feels like doing the same, because he hates seeing you like this. If he could take all the pain away, force it onto himself so you didn't have to bear it, he would.

He pulls you closer to him, into his lap as he cradles you and rocks you slightly, pressing soft kisses to your forehead and resting his head there.

“Baby, please stop apologisin’. You aren't doin’ anything wrong and.. I know it's hard. It's hard to stop yourself from relapsin’, but you've done so well. ‘m so damn proud of ya, because you've gone so long without hurtin’ yourself. And it's doin’ good for ya; you might not realise it but I do. You’re so much happier now without it, ya like a fuckin’ ball of sunshine.” He teases, making you let out a watery chuckle. He pauses for a moment to brush away your tears, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “I love you. So so much. And I don't want to see you in pain like that ever again. I don't want my sunshine to go away, and I don't think you want her to either.”

You nod slowly, rubbing at your face as the final tears slip past your eyelids, looking up at Joel again.

He held you and you both talked for what must have been hours after that. You discussed what was really bothering you, how you could try make it better. Distractions helped, you decided. Joel proved to be a good distraction, as you ended the night listening to him talk about just about anything from the new diner that opened up in town to that one story from his childhood which made you snort with laughter every time (one which consisted of little Joel falling ‘head over heels in love’ with a girl when he was in elementary school, deciding to profess his love to her by writing a sappy poem for her and reading it to her in front of quite a large group of people.. only to be turned down. Naturally, he would've been, considering she was a fucking 16 year-old!)

He knew that that story would be the one to make you crack a smile, even if it was a small one, he just wanted to make his girl happy again.

You did a little more than smile, giggling so much you went red because that story never really gets old.

“There she is.” He murmured affectionately, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear and kissing the tip of your nose, then your cheek, then your lips.

It was a brief, yet loving, one, as he pulled back from the kiss and stroked your hair as your eyes fluttered shut.

Joel pulled you closer to him, your head now resting on his chest as your eyes fluttered closed from his soothing touch.

“G’night, babygirl.” He murmured, unsurprised when you didn't answer since you had already fallen asleep.

He stares up at the ceiling and he feels happy despite everything that happened tonight, because he feels good knowing that he can give you that solace and comfort that you just need so desperately sometimes, just like he gave you in the hours that passed. He'd do it a million times and more if it was for you.

Thank you sm for reading, I hope you.. enjoyed? Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated and requests are open. 💞

Note: My heart really goes out to you if you struggle with self harm. It's not easy to deal with and even harder to stop doing it once you've started, but you're not alone. Even if you feel like you have no one to talk to, there are countless places and websites you can look at which offer things like helplines and anonymous chats if you're struggling, and also give healthy solutions and alternatives etc. to self harm. You're so loved. Things might seem impossible but never give up. It will get better one day.

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kentoberry · 2 years

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SWEET LIKE HONEY ! — albedo kreideprinz.

⭒— SUMMARY · you failed your latest test, but there’s no need to worry when the professor offers you a way to make up the grade ! [ this post contains dark content. full tags utc. ]

⭒— CONTENT · sub fem reader , college au , teacher / student relationship , pervy albedo , dubcon , coercion , panty stealing , praise , implied masturbation , crybaby ! reader , office sex.

to begin with, your day had consisted of burnt toast and unwashed dishes. by the time you were ready to go grab a cup of morning coffee, you noticed a toothpaste stain on your white blouse so you had to get changed again instead. to put it simply, everything was going wrong ! you wanted nothing more than to return to bed, close the curtains, and shut the world out for the day. instead, you powered through and made your way to class.

in hindsight, maybe you should have done just that. you had completely forgotten about a test you had done last week until a piece of paper was slammed down on your desk. your heart dropped as you flipped it over to reveal a big 'c’ in the top corner. bio-chem with professor albedo was the only class you were averaging below an 'a’ in, this was only going to make it even worse ! you had studied your ass off for this test, doing everything you could to increase your knowledge of the subject. hell, you were convinced you had worked harder than everyone else in this class ! it was as though the red ink was mocking you, laughing at your failure. you decided that your only option to rectify this was to visit your professor after class and inquire as to your low score.

as soon as he wrapped up the lecture, you shoved the paper deep into the depths of your bag. not wanting to have an angry outburst, you had opted to grab a long overdue coffee before heading to your professor’s office. it hadn’t helped too much, your shakiness noticeable as your knuckles rapped lightly against the hard wood. albedo took a moment to stretch from his prior position of being hunched over the desk marking papers for one of his other classes. he peered around the door, fluffy hair and cozy sweater making him feel oh so inviting.

“sir, could i talk to you for a moment?” he picked up on the nervousness in your voice instantly.

“of course, miss y/l/n. come in.” professor albedo opened the door wider, gesturing to the couch on the other side of his desk. “am i correct to presume this is regarding your recent examination score?”

you placed your bag down as he closed the door and returned to his own seat.

“yes, sir.” was all you managed. your stared at your shoes, trying to gain control over your emotions though to no avail.

“well?”

you sighed deeply before the rambling began and you gave in. “i don’t understand how they’re so low. i’ve been working so hard, studying all night even-” you hadn’t expected to get so worked up over a silly little letter on a piece of paper that you could just throw to the wind. tears began welling in your eyes, nose becoming slightly runny. “i-if my grades aren’t perfect then i won’t get back in to study for my masters ! how-” sniffle. “how am i supposed-” sniffle. “to fix this?” sniffle.

“first take a deep breath, y/n.” you buried your head in your hands, your professor’s perception of you being added to the list of your worries. the last thing you wanted was for him to assume you were some spoiled crybaby who always got what she wanted ! “we can work something out.”

you looked up at him as though he had just offered you the world. your teary eyes gleamed in the soft light of his office, awaiting what solution the smart man had come up with. albedo wanted nothing more than to fix all of your problems. sure, you were his most diligent student. if he was honest, your poor grades were perhaps… an experiment of his own. he wanted to see how much pressure you could handle, since he was considering offering you a position as his assistant over summer break. you had lasted longer than his original hypothesis had predicted.

your professor’s introverted nature made it difficult for him to comfort you. he decided that the best course of action was to plop himself down next to you on the loveseat, wrapping one of his arms around your sobbing form. you buried your face into albedo’s sweater, dampening the soft wool in your tears. his grip only tightened around you, cooing softly as he caressed your back.

all in all, there was nothing impure about the interaction. or at least, there wasn’t at first. in your sorrowful haze, your hand had accidentally brushed against your professor’s crotch, prompting a sharp intake of breath from the man. his attention was then drawn to the way your breasts were pressed against him.

“s-s-sir?”

albedo’s face flushed red at the fact that you’d noticed his… predicament. your eyes were wide, sobs having halted. you looked so innocent before him, so much so that he couldn’t prevent his dark thoughts taking over.

“i have a proposal for you, y/n. perhaps if you were to help me with the… situation before us, i could ensure your grades stay high enough to secure your place in any future education you desire.”

surely he wasn’t insinuating what you thought he was. you had always thought he was a rather attractive man, though he was your professor ! you should be running to the dean to report him right now.

“you may go, if you so wish,” it was as though albedo was reading your mind. “none of my superiors will believe any negative thought you share about me. now, you can either leave and accept your results or we can…” he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “come up with a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

“s-sir, i-” you began sniffling again, though you didn’t make a move towards the door. perfect grades for the remainder of his classes was too good of an offer to pass up, wasn’t it? he could tell that you were considering it.

“we can take it slow, darling. i do not wish to make you too uncomfortable.” his hand was on your shoulder, the other resting on your hip.

a weak “okay” left your mouth.

albedo pulled you onto his lap, resting you on top of one of his thighs. his hands found their way underneath your shirt as lithe fingers started digging slightly into your hips. he rocked you slowly against him as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. how embarrassing that you had to let your professor use you like this just so that you could pass a class !! he admired how you’d fully given into his advances, your body practically limp for him to use as he desired. your arms wrapped around him as salty tears began gently rolling down your cheeks. attempts to keep your cries quiet were futile, with your professor pressing soft kisses to the crown of your head in an attempt to comfort you. the way you were so vulnerable for him spurred him on further. you were too weak to pleasure yourself, so he had to do it for you !! your legs were tightening, thighs wanting to give you more friction than you were already receiving from him. albedo took note of this. he lifted you off of him enough to remove your clothes. the man allowed you to keep your shirt on, for it would save you from any further embarrassment should somebody walk through the currently unlocked door to his office. your sobs only increased as he removed your panties. luckily for him, you were too preoccupied to see him shoving them deep into his pocket, no intentions of returning the lacy fabric to you. you felt so exposed, hiding your face even further in him.

“there’s nothing too worry about, sweetheart. i think you look ravishing like this.” he dragged a finger between your folds, only to be met by his slick covered digit. he took it for a few short laps around your aching bud, relishing in the whines that became mixed with sobs falling from your lips. albedo sat you back down so that you were straddling his thigh. he spread you enough so that your clit was resting against the rough material of his trousers. subconsciously you began rutting your hips against his lightly colored slacks. albedo kept one hand on your back, gently guiding you, while the other began stroking your hair. tears covered his sweater, accompanying your sweet moans.

“so good for me,” your professor would whisper, along with other praises of how you were his “favorite student” and how beautiful you looked rutting against him so desperately. you’d be lying if you said his words didn’t increase the wetness pooling between your legs, though you felt so humiliated in this position that you felt more tears falling simultaneously. your cunny was spilling juices all over him, most definitely ruining his pants.

you grew exhausted rather quickly, between the cries and the stress today had thrown at you. no matter how much albedo was encouraging you to keep going, your trembly voice barely whispering to him that you “can’t” do any more was enough for him to lend a helping hand. what kind of professor would he be to ignore a student in need ? as you remained clinging onto him, he continued to hold your head as his other hand reached between your thighs. his fingers circled your entrance, gently tapping it. he wanted nothing more than to scissor you open and stuff your pretty hole nice and full, though he didn’t want to scare you off. he wanted to keep you in a position where he could continue to have control over you, which meant giving you your desired grades while he persuaded you to keep returning the favor for him. how could he allow for such a sweet thing like yourself to escape his grasp ?!

you felt your eyelids growing heavy as your professor’s fingers massaged your puffy clit. his touches were like feather, using his index and ring fingers to spread you open as his middle finger stroked you ever so lightly. he tapped against the bud periodically, enjoying how you trembled with every graze. your voice was mostly gone, barely able to warn him that you were close. “g-g-g gonna-” was all you could manage. the man knew exactly what you struggled to communicate.

“cum for me, sweetheart,” the dirtiness and shame you felt at your professor’s words combined with his saccharine tone made you shake. he rubbed directly onto your pulsing clit as your body began spasm on top of him. albedo held onto you as pleasure rushed through your veins and even more of your cum spilled onto his thigh. he helped you ride through your high, the scent of sex filling the office. you pulled yourself away from him as your breathing calmed. he was in half a mind to drag you back into his embrace, though his curiosity regarding the shy expression he imagined adorning your features prevented him from doing such. your hair was a mess, tear stained face red. your eyes were slightly swollen, fresh tears still dancing down your puffy cheeks. you tried wiping them away and clearing your running nose with the back of your sleeve. albedo grabbed a tissue from his desk, assisting you as you sat in defeat. your eyes spotted the wet patch you’d left on his trousers. you couldn’t help but apologize profusely, despite barely being able to form a sentence. albedo looked down at you, pads of his thumbs gracing your cheeks. “don’t worry, sweetheart. i always keep spare clothes in my office, just in the case of any lab emergencies that should arise.” the man would wait until you left to change. the way your weak form exited his office was intoxicating, staring intently at how your hips swayed slightly with each step. despite how he wanted to feel you wrapped around the aching in his pants so very badly, he would instead prefer to take you in a much less formal setting. for now, the panties that you had unknowingly left behind would have to suffice.

#kentoberryposts #albedo kreideprinz smut #albedo kreideprinz x reader #albedo smut #albedo x reader #albedo x you #genshin impact x reader smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut

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laylajeffany · 21 days

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Crying at the Texas Roadhouse | Wenclair One-Shot for @cruciokilljoy

Rating: G WC: 4,500 Summary: Enid’s feelings are hurt and Wednesday tries to resolve them, requiring her to find her soft spot (in public) when Enid starts sobbing in the middle of a chain restaurant in Jericho. Enid's POV, established relationship, unrelated to any of my multi-chapter work TW: Esther Sinclair being herself

@cruciokilljoy You were probably looking for more physical hurt/comfort but both my multi-chap fics have explored that pretty throughly and I am tired of writing the girls in physical pain so I put them through emotional pain instead. Certainly not based on actual, recent conversations with my own hateful mother not at all ☠️

“You were crying.”

Duh.

“Like, an hour ago,” Enid clarified, looking at Wednesday as she stepped into their room with her jacket draped over her arm, sleeves rolled up, hands filthy. She could only imagine what her girlfriend had gotten into (literally, looking at the caked-on mud on her Oxfords that ran up to her stocking-covered knees). “I hardly think that’s the most pressing thing we need to talk about. Why are you covered in dirt?”

“Mud wrestling,” Wednesday replied dryly.

“Not enough on you for that.” Enid rolled her eyes and crossed her sweater-covered arms. She almost didn’t want to know but would certainly rather discuss Wednesday's potentially illegal antics than herself after the challenging evening that she’d already had.

She wasn’t in the mood for bickering, either way - so maybe quiet time would be best.

“Why were you upset?” Clearly, she wasn't going to drop it with her own deflection. Wednesday draped her jacket over the side of her desk chair and toed off her muddy shoes, forcing her to lose the small boost of lift they gave her, putting her squarely two inches beneath Enid. She stood directly in front of her, a kiss away – bearing into Enid with her eyes and forcing truth out of her.

Knowing her lower lip trembled a little, hating her tells and trying to frown the feelings away, Enid looked at her own feet. There was no use lying to Wednesday about an actually serious subject when the evidence was still in the bloodshot veins of her eyes. “My mother called. It was…it’s just always upsetting,” She glanced back up with a forced, sad smile. Wednesday’s eyes lost their intensity from curiosity, but gained something that was largely new for her – sympathy.

How Enid hated it. Deciding to dangle a tantalizing offer in front of her, she forced her pitch to remain neutral as she stated, “I don’t want to dwell on it. Can we skip the part where I rehash how my mom is a miserable person and…just go to dinner? You could edit my lycan paper after, I could use the help…”

Wednesday’s stare continued to be gentle and Enid was about ready to march out of the room if she didn’t quit. She couldn’t stand that. “Stop, please? Wednesday, honestly. I don’t want to talk about it. And I don’t want you to pacify me this evening. My mother always manages to upset me. And even if I stand up to her on the phone, I sometimes need to cry it out after. It’s like…” Deciding to use a weapon analogy, Enid expressed, “Like a fuse. She lit it, I detonated on her, and now there’s some debris to clean up, but I’m actually fine. I want to move on.”

Obviously a little put out by the way her jaw shifted just slightly, Wednesday disappeared wordlessly, returning from the community washroom down the hall with clean hands and sans her stockings, which Enid assumed she’d tossed rather than get any more flak from the on-site laundry service about soiling other people’s clothing.

She disappeared into her closet, coming out in a pair of wide-legged pants and an oversized black sweatshirt that fell nearly to her knees. If Enid could hide her emotions, she supposed she couldn’t comment on Wednesday hiding her body.

To her surprise, Wednesday actually let her not speak about her feelings and folded a hand into hers as she waved to Thing, nonverbally communicating that she wanted to be alone with Enid. Thing had been quite helpful to the whole affair – had heard her mother’s hurtful words, passed her tissues after she finished crying into her pillow, patted her back sweetly…

Wednesday led her to the foyer but didn’t turn to the right to take them to the cafeteria. Enid blinked a few times when Wednesday tugged her right out the front door and down the front steps. Confused, and really not in the mood to go investigating anything, particularly to discover whatever had Wednesday so dirty, Enid whined a little, “Can’t we just eat?”

“It’s Monday,” Her voice was just a touch darker than it had been in their room. “Nevermore’s infamous attempt at cowering to the vegetarians is tonight, and I don’t think their imitation beef is going to help you feel any better. We’re heading into town – I’m getting you a steak.” Well, that certainly perked her up just a little bit. “Withdrawing red meat once a week in an effort to be more environmentally friendly when ten percent of the student campus requires it as part of their metabolic diet is cruel, performative activism and we don’t need to be part of it. It makes as much sense as banning plastic straws. You don’t create systems change by following trends. Meatless Monday is going to meet my full-meat fist one of these days. But tonight, we’re going to crush peanut shells underfoot at a chain restaurant instead.”

More than okay with getting that salty coating in between the grooves of her furry, pink boots, Enid pulled Wednesday to her in a hug when they arrived to the edge of the forest trail that would take them into Jericho. Wednesday sucked in a breath of surprise at being forced into her hold but returned it after just a second of processing what was happening to her. “I don’t mean to take my bad mood out on you,” Enid apologized.

“I do it to you all the time,” Wednesday mumbled into her shoulder, sighing as she hooked her arms around her middle, hanging on just as tightly. “Usually for far-less valid reasons.” She pulled away to put her palms on Enid’s shoulders and met her eyes without that sympathy…instead…

Wednesday’s brown gaze in the setting sun was highly empathetic and made Enid drop half the tension in her shoulders. “I might also be a little hangry,” She confessed as her stomach roared suddenly between them.

There was a flirtation of a smirk on Wednesday’s lips at the noise and she said nothing, merely took her hand again, leading them boldly through the woods for a twenty-minute walk into town.

Enid swore she felt better just at the sight of the neon lights outlining the state of Texas with a cowboy hat perched on top of it when the restaurant was in view. Inside promised at least a feeling of satisfaction for the wolf within her, and that could often soften the meltdown of her personhood, too.

“Two, please,” Wednesday politely replied when the hostess, a too-cool Jericho High student with rapidly growing roots sticking out of her bleach blonde hair snapped her gum and looked irritated to have to ask how many were in their party.

Holding back her own growl of irritation, Enid would admit, she was relatively surprised by how well-behaved Wednesday could be in spaces like public restaurants. She often claimed that staff were simply victims of the State or something about labor rights, and generally tipped far more than Enid would’ve thought that they had earned.

Enid watched a basket of rolls be taken into a waitress’ hands and swallowed the saliva that threatened to slip out of her lips, thinking Wednesday was about to drop her hand as she often did in public – but not that day. She must’ve sensed some of her mother’s conversation had been about, willing to take on any bigot that might’ve had something to say about the two of them in a relationship. Vermont might’ve been one of the more progressive states in the country, but – certainly, so was California, and her mother had a whole lot to say from there that evening…

Once they were seated, Enid took a roll without waiting even a beat for the young woman who would be taking care of them to go through her required spiel, while Wednesday simply gave a curt nod at her before giving all of her attention to Enid as she went to return with water. (Enid could hardly wait for the day she could down one of those massive margaritas in the advertisements all over the establishment.)

She was halfway through with her first roll when Wednesday’s harsh stare asked the question before she needed to confirm, “You missed lunch with that extra dance practice today.”

“I’m sorry,” Enid said, just about ready to own up to anything – even things she hadn’t done, in an effort to just keep everyone from blowing up at her anymore that day. She really couldn’t handle Wednesday being frustrated with her, too -

“Next time, tell me,” Wednesday ordered, her voice clipped; Enid stared hard at the rings on the wooden, lacquered tabletop, willing her next round of sadness to stay internal. “I’ll bring you something to class. Don’t apologize to me.”

About to say ‘sorry’ again, Enid just bit her lip, seeing the tears that were threatening to well up in her gaze. She tried to blink them away, and was grateful when the waitress asked if they needed more time with the menu when she brought their water over. Enid just shook her head, while Wednesday started, then said her name in a very gentle tone – and all the up and down of soft and hard was really –

“Um, the twelve-ounce New York strip, please – rare.”

“You know that means pink, possibly bloo-”

Wednesday was quick to defend her. “She knows what her body requires.”

Enid let out a shuddered breath, quietly asking for her sides before the waitress left. Wednesday reached across the table and took both of Enid’s hands, clearly needing to understand more about what was making her act so small and miserable. “Tell me what your mother said.”

“I don’t want to think about it,” Enid argued, feeling her tone rising as hysteria was pouring out of each vein, flooding her body.

“You obviously already are. It’s weighing on you. Release the burden, and you’ll feel relief.”

As the first tear fell, Wednesday’s face contorted from intensity and certainty to overwhelmed and near helplessness as she obviously hadn't thought through the fact that Enid was going to cry in public. She squeezed Enid’s hands, but the gesture only caused the second one to dribble, then the third, and the fourth, and Enid brought her sweater up over her face to keep from letting out an audible sob in the restaurant.

Thankfully, Wednesday had some sort of awareness about what to do – they’d been dating for months and friends for so long, she’d seen her fair share of Enid’s breakdowns and generally knew what did and didn’t help. When the preventative measures clearly weren’t working that Monday, she stood up and rounded to the space beside her, putting an arm around her and letting Enid fold herself into her chest. The unexpected display of affection was actually bringing out even more of her release. God – that hug to soothe her emotions into was exactly what Enid needed, and the fact that Wednesday had it in her to be soft enough around her to let her break down, in a half-full restaurant, into her arms? She loved her more than anything, and Enid knew that, she just wished, maybe – well, Wednesday was probably right. She did just need to talk about it to work through it.

When she met the black strings of her hoodie, Enid knew she let out a cry of a sniffly sound. It was embarrassing, devastating, really, to be having a full breakdown at the Texas Roadhouse. But Wednesday had been determined to try and make her feel better that evening and was going to have to finish what she started, even if that meant snuggling her in a vinyl-covered booth while the waitress awkwardly put their salads down on the same side of the table a few minutes after the crying began.

Wednesday unrolled one of the fabric napkins, shaking out a knife and the forks. For a brief, split-second, Enid thought she really might eat one-handed while she continued to snivel all over her chest, but Wednesday instead used the square to dab Enid’s cheeks, soaking up the tears that hadn’t been absorbed into her sweatshirt. She adjusted her hold on her girlfriend and looked at her with something new –

Sincerity.

Almost blubbering again, Enid just nodded, knowing it would do well to admit what Esther had said to her on the phone. “My…mother – she was …on her weekly rampage, about…everything. Nevermore, administration refusing to split us up – you not receiving any consequences from last semester…the usual. Then…it shifted,” She sniffed. “She brought up my late blooming, how I’d been so privileged to have been even have parents who cared enough to offer to send me to lycanthropy conversion camp…”

Wednesday’s hand curled on her upper thigh at that.

“And when she wasn’t getting a rise out of me for that, she dug deeper – the normal line of inane ramblings of how she couldn’t believe after all that time, ‘that Addams girl’ was what got me to shift for the first time…and, when I reminded her, ‘that Addams girl’ is Wednesday, my girlfriend, she…she…just said, ‘we don’t talk about that,’ and started bitching about the value of a Nevermore education not matching up to the price tag, not that it mattered – since none of her pack were scoring above a 3.5 on the ‘mediocre’ grading system, moved on to my scar tissue and wanting me to come home to have a consultation with a plastic surgeon for a revision procedure, and I said that wasn’t going to happen and hung up on her. Then I cried.”

Watching Wednesday respond to the entirety of the call was like discovering something new hidden in a sensory tube every other second. While she was short for words, Wednesday’s eyes always spoke volumes about what she would say if she dared to put her thoughts out verbally. Mr. Addams had described her tongue as that of a viper to Enid more than once when telling stories about her, so she was pretty sure it was often for the best that Wednesday focused on taking in all the information before reacting. She knew that Wednesday tended to get into it with administrators and authority, but at least with Enid – she was far more even-tempered in how she responded to hearing words she didn’t like.

Enid let out a long breath and picked up one of the forks that Wednesday had shaken out of the napkin, needing to channel her energy into anything but crying again. She speared leafy greens onto the tines, trying not to visualize doing the same to any of her mother’s more vulnerable body parts, for that matter – wondering which Wednesday would fantasize about ripping out first in her defense.

“I’m sorry, Enid,” Wednesday spoke through a near whisper of a tone.

Hearing those words come out of Wednesday was like hearing foreign language that she needed to interpret. Her fork fell out of her hand. Not wanting to startle her anymore, Enid brought her longing, hopeful sort of gaze to Wednesday’s. “Why are you apologizing now?”

Wednesday drew her hands into her lap, staring straight ahead. It took her some time to form her response, likely, if Enid had to guess, because of the emotion that was pooling in her own eyes. She knew her damn well enough that she wouldn’t shed anything close to a tear in public, but Wednesday was very much on the edge. It didn’t make sense – she’d done nothing wrong, aside from maybe push her into talking about it when Enid knew what that would unleash, but even then – it’s not like she had been the one to say all those hurtful things…

“I suppose I am not apologizing with my sorry. But I am sorry that I contributed to enough of your mother’s ire that she took it out on you. I’m sorry that she continues to refuse to acknowledge that you are in a non-traditional relationship, let alone demonstrate any sort of positive feeling about it. I’m sorry that she continues to bring up painful events of the past, and attempt to shame you for them, or think you should have been grateful for her wanting to send you to an abusive situation. I’m sorry that she thinks your grades aren’t good enough – you’ve got a 3.87 right now, which is Magna cum laude and I’m really proud of you for working diligently at increasing your grade point average. I’m sorry that she thinks you need plastic surgery. If you wanted to, that would be your choice. But I love your scars, and I think they’re beautiful.”

Enid could barely breathe. She wasn’t sure if Wednesday had ever said so many words consecutively, let alone that indicated her true feelings on any subject matter…that she was harboring so many about her, in particular. Trying not to let herself curl up into the faux-wooden logs that made up the side wall of their booth, Enid finally found the ability to expand her lungs and release the last of the tension she’d been harboring. “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me.”

“It’s not in pity,” Wednesday clarified. “It’s not. It’s…perhaps a feeling that I don’t have a schema for.” She gave a rare blink as she seemed to be trying to find the emotional vocabulary within her to better explain herself, staring at Enid, who was pretty sure she was going to need an inhaler by the end of dinner at the rate Wednesday was taking her breath away. Finally, she gave a nearly-invisible shrug as she further clarified, “I just know, that I love you. And I despise that anyone would attempt to make you feel small, or anything else negative, especially someone who is also supposed to love you unconditionally. And I am sorry, that you were forced to endure that. All your life. So…I’m sorry, and I hope to make it up to you.”

Tilting her head, sniffing just a little, finding the shiest hint of a smile, Enid promised in a watery whisper, “You are. Right now. You…knew that I needed to take care of myself, and that school wasn’t going to cut it, and you brought me to the Texas Roadhouse,” She let out a small bubble of a laugh. “Here, I’ll get what I need to sustain me, but while we’re waiting,” She paused, reaching over for one of Wednesday’s clasped hands, forcing them apart so they could squeeze one another’s. “You’re giving me the opportunity to release what doesn’t. Thank you, Wednesday.”

There was a new wave on Wednesday’s features – a distinct mark of relief in her gaze as she swept it, unblinking onto Enid again. “It is hardly my forte to make someone who was sad return to baseline, let alone anything akin to happiness…”

“You’ve done a pretty remarkable job for me,” Enid assured her when the waitress brought out their main courses, looking a little awkward as she put them near their still-full salad plates.

“Uh…anything else I can bring you girls?”

“A total end to the heteronormative, compulsory, traditional society we continue to find ourselves existing in,” Wednesday said without hesitating.

The waitress blinked.

Enid shook her head. “I think we’ve got anything we need, right here.”

The woman left with wide, confused eyes and Enid sighed, cutting into her steak without thinking twice, watching the red ooze out onto her plate. The sight grossed her out, but she knew it would do her body good.

Sure enough – halfway into the steak, she was feeling remarkably better already. “Try to finish it,” Wednesday prompted her. “The full moon is on Thursday, you should be nearly doubling your caloric intake.”

Kissing her cheek, earning the slightest twinge of red to her cheeks, Enid thanked her and followed through, polishing off the meat, picking at her vegetables while Wednesday ate with a distinct sort of raised-higher-class slowness that she usually did.

After finishing and watching Wednesday tip the waitress almost double what the bill had been, Enid took her hand and made it her turn to lead them – the yellow glow of a Dollar General sign across the street tempting her. “I feel like properly finishing up my breakdown by making a frivolous, five-dollar purchase.”

Wednesday’s eyes rolled but she didn’t fight her. Mid 2000s soft-pop radio was playing as they stepped into the nearly desolate discount store, one that Enid liked because of the deadstock that featured some of her favorite comfort characters from her childhood. Knowing exactly what she wanted, she led Wednesday through precariously stacked makeshift aisles of cardboard boxes filled with inventory that would be put out by the one employee working there over the course of several weeks. She hummed along to the music, singing along softly with Colbie Caillat, feeling a little bubbly herself as Wednesday refrained from spewing out comments on late-stage capitalism or some such true, but nonsensical arguing that would accomplish nothing between them. “Here they are,” She said, gesturing to a host of children’s coloring books. Wondering if Wednesday's limited access to traditional children's media would kick in, Enid playfully wondered, “Anybody look familiar to you?”

“Even someone who spent a significant portion of her childhood exploring the caves below the house like myself can recognize the ultimate example of corporate greed, the mouse that is Mickey.”

“Yikes,” Enid commented, “I’ll steer clear of the Disney characters.” Mentally retracting her statement to herself about Wednesday being able to hold back full-punch societal comments, she smirked, spotting what she wanted pretty much right away, taking a pink, Strawberry Shortcake book into her hold. “Will you color with me?”

“I cannot promise that I won’t be giving the fruitcake a makeover. And a knife.”

Giggling, then singing along a little more as she took Wednesday’s hand and wove her through the maze of mess before checking out – spending a whopping two dollars and twelve cents to achieve the final release in neurotransmitters that would complete her night.

After a walk back to Ophelia Hall that included a great production of sneaking back into the campus as they’d left without permission, Enid and Wednesday both found themselves in their pajamas and ready for bed before Enid took her art supplies out from a basket, revealing about three hundred colored pencils in different shades.

Wednesday flipped through the coloring book with a touch of a nose wrinkle, staring at the smiley, fruit-themed girls. She was going out of her way, clearly setting every intention of getting through the moment to make her girlfriend happy as she'd claimed. Finally letting out a real, whole laugh, Enid earned her perplexed stare. “You did it,” She promised. Wednesday waited and Enid winked. “You didn’t just reset me to factory settings, but you made me happy. I promise. You totally do not have to color with me. You can read or edit papers or whatever else is going to make you happy, too. So long as you’re not out solving mysteries, but here with me.”

There was a beat of relief as Wednesday took out a book she’d been reading through, curling up beside Enid, who took some creative liberties as Wednesday would have, forcing a picture of Lemon Meringue, the pigtailed character, and Strawberry Shortcake to look as close to herself and Wednesday as possible, even adding a little knife into Lemon’s hand. Wednesday let Enid pick the music, but she went with one of her playlists of cello covers as a compromise for both of them.

When she finished and flashed the coloring sheet to her girlfriend, Wednesday almost smiled, amusement evident in her eyes as she took a knife out of her pajama pocket (naturally – everyone needed a bedtime knife), evenly slicing it out of the book. She tacked it up on Enid’s bulletin board before putting all the coloring supplies away while Enid watched. Finally, she turned off all the lights except the strand of twinkling ones she’d magically learned to tolerate once they started dating.

She brought Enid to the floor-bed they’d made with a roll-away mattress that was more comfortable than cramming into either of their twin beds, lying on her back as usual, and inviting Enid to curl up with her with silence, just vague gestures – a pat of her own chest, a small nod…

“Wednesday, I love you. Thank you, for making me feel one hundred percent better. I feel even better than before my mom called,” Enid said softly, nuzzling into her.

Wednesday’s fingers instinctively wove into her hair. “I’m tempted to block her number on your phone so she can’t get a hold of you. I can’t promise that if I’m in the room the next time she calls, I won’t make her feel something about herself that is more than true.”

“Good,” Enid encouraged with a contented huff. “She deserves that.”

“You didn’t deserve what she said or attempted to do to you in the past. And I hope that…her comments about…us, don’t make you second guess things. I am always here – to repair and comfort what she has hurt or damaged, as long as you want me to.”

Enid squeezed her affectionately. “You are excellent at comforting my hurts.”

There was a small breath of alleviation she felt from Wednesday. Wanting her to really understand that, she added, “You went out of your way for me tonight. You could’ve just given me a hug, taken me down to the dining hall, and come up to edit my paper. But you didn’t. You knew what very specific things would make me physically feel better, then opened yourself up emotionally for me, too. You’re the best. I love you.”

Wednesday clutched her tightly with one palm wrapped around her back, the other gently tracing the skin near Enid’s scars. Her words felt a little surprising when she added, “I would like to apologize for forcing you to talk about what happened before you were ready. I’m sure you would have liked to not cry in public at the Texas Roadhouse.”

“I think it’s a perfectly lovely public place to have a breakdown,” Enid said with a giggle at her own expense.

Wednesday said nothing other than a quiet, “I love you. Go to sleep.”

Closing her eyes so she could follow the direction, Enid sighed very contently, reflecting on the evening as she drifted off to have the chance to start over in a new day.

Layla is working through prompts and determined to write the Black Menagerie epilogue for the weekend - stay tuned for more ✌🏼

#Wednesday 2022 #Fanfic #Wenclair #One-Shot #visual for my non-american readers of what a Texas Roadhouse looks like 🫶🏻#who among us hasn't cried in a chain restaurant?#unbeta’d #the collection of one-shots I write mostly in a closet at work is bringing me great joy #thank you for all the prompts I struggle to do any kind of one-shot on my own #layla's >5k challenge

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pseudosis · 3 months

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ᴥ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐀 | plug!jet x reader {teaser}

ᴥwarning(s): reader calls jet “jee” , jet calls reader “kid” , drugs , mentions of death/violence , minor ocs

“I don’t like my money being fucked with kid…”

“Jee hush, I’m a little behind on bills right now. You’ll get your last sixty next week sometime.”

New york’s opening year climate had your hands all clammy, wrapping up in various layers of winter clothes somehow couldn’t stop the frigid whoops of air snaking their way to your body. Grip wavering visibly, trying to flip through your wallet of fresh cash and pull out a sum of money just short of sixty dollars to Jee. One thing about him is that he didn’t really like the whole ‘i’ll pay the rest later’ excuse, his policy is you either pay it or go home with nothing. Years of being a dealer had his paranoia constantly on a high most failed to understand.

Yet he found himself remorseful towards you, the both of you knowing each other since grade school, always making your payments on time. It wasn’t like you were the kind to grab and run from him anyway, an excuse this time would be tolerated by his rare patience. As soon as the paper made it into his expectant open palm, he balled it up, and replaced your empty hand with a solid pound of green in a plastic baggie.

“We hotboxing tonight or you going home?”

“Gotta go home, got work tomorrow.”

The discipline of a real job was a foreign idea to Jee, constantly running through streets for as long as he could remember. His longest ever consistent job was selling drugs. Never holding down a real home either, just constantly on the move. He says this business gets demanding like a normal job, seeing the bulge of a loaded pistol tucked into his waistband under his oversized hoodie.

“How Brooklyn been treating you Jee?”

Moving from Pasadena just a week ago had him new to the whole environment that made up the east coast, “Everything up here so damn expensive, but I’m coming from Pasadena, so it ain’t nothing I’m not used to. I hate the cold, but the rest of my group is up here so…”

He never looked at you, staring off into the distance in the park that was gradually collecting snow. Bare hands going a mild red from the dropped temperatures, then being shoved into his hoodie pockets. Kicking an accumulating pile of snow out of sheepishness during the silence between words, you decided to say something since you wanted to talk before heading off back home.

“I’m sorry about what happened to Chico…have you been at least doing well after his funeral?”

Jee said nothing for a long moment, face going unreadable and eyebrows hunching slightly together as he was seemingly thinking. Maybe bringing up a sensitive subject like that wasn’t the best social move you could’ve made, but that was your friend, and Chico happened to be his best friend as well. They were like brothers as close as they were, only to lose the man in a gunfight back when he was in Cali.

“…it’s been cool, you know. Things ain’t been ideal but shit happens, that’s life.”

As nonchalant about it as he wanted to be, you could sense his grief through his numb attitude. Eyebrows relaxing and his vision jolted to the ground, a moment before hearing the ding of his phone which softened the solemn energy around you two. Fishing the device out of his pocket, he checked the notification from some other buyer ready to purchase their products from him.

“Alright kid, see you around, don’t forget my damn sixty. I’ll blow your head off if you do.” Jee playfully hit your arm, a gesture native to the friendly relationship you two had for years now. Smacking the back of his head and laughing before you two parted off, returning to the very different lives the both of you lived.

#{✩*ೃ.⋆𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐬🎀}#avatar the last airbender #atla jet #sebastian amoruso #adult jet #jet x reader #jet smut #jet avatar #jet atla #avatar live action #atla live action #a:tla netflix #atla netflix #netflix avatar

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jaegeraether · 7 months

Text

Sunsets and footballers (Part 6)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (6)

Masterlist (other parts here)

Jordan and YFN were comfortably spread out on the couch, an array of snacks laid out on the blanket they were sharing. YFN hadn’t told Jordan about her interaction with Lucy yet, and she was a little worried about doing so. The last thing she wanted was for Jordan to feel like she was less important. She still had no idea what was happening, and the fact that she was just on a spontaneous holiday sat in the back of her mind, but she kept it back there. She didn’t have a job or worries, she knew that she might meet people along the way who would be meaningful in her life. She was already so close to Jordan that she couldn’t imagine being back across the other side of the world from her, let alone whatever she had with Lucy. Was Lucy just looking for a quick fuck because she knew YFN was only here for 2 weeks? She ignored that thought, knowing that whatever was happening between them was far more than just a casual fling. But was it even possible to have more? And did they both want that?

She internally groaned. She hated overthinking things, it just wasn’t her. She was much more care-free than that. She happily pushed all of those thoughts aside and reminded herself of her motto. Whatever happens, happens. As long as she maintained respect for herself and those involved, she would happily be involved in whatever this was with Lucy.

Jordan nudged her foot as she texted. “Luce said the dinner party’s done and she has some gossip. Would you mind if she comes over?”

Yes, please. “Not at all.”

“Excellent. She’ll be here in 5.”

The restaurant was much further away than that, so she knew Lucy must have already been on her way. Oh, she was excited.

Five minutes later, Lucy knocked and entered without permission. Jordan didn’t seem phased, this must have been a common thing with them. Lucy found them in the living room looking quite comfortable on the couch.

“How’s the food poisoning?”

“I think all of these snacks have made it worse, to be honest.” YFN laughed.

Lucy’s eyes widened at the amount of snacks covering the two. Jordan saw this and defended them. “Don’t judge us, we’re feeling our emotions.”

Lucy laughed and gave a little leap over the couch to sit on YFN’s free side. She kicked her shoes off and YFN lifted the blanket they shared, pulling it to cover Lucy’s legs also. Lucy loved the thoughtfulness and stretched her legs out. Jordan threw a few different snacks over to Lucy.

“Are these sad or happy emotions?” Lucy asked.

“A bit of both,” YFN shrugged. “Subject to change with your gossip.”

“Ah,” Lucy didn’t have much gossip. She really just wanted an excuse to be around her. “Well.. when you left Leah asked me a few questions. She wanted to know who YFN was and where you were from, whether you two were in a relationship-” her finger gestured to the two of them.

“-wait,” Jordan cut her off. “She was jealous?”

“Mmn.. maybe a little to be honest. And protective.”

Jordan scoffed. “She has no right!”

“Oh I know, but feelings don’t just disappear that quickly…” Her extended foot touched YFN’s under the blanket which caused her body to flinch but Lucy noticed she didn’t move away. Jordan didn’t notice. “She still cares for you, Jords. You know that. She was upset, she just wants to talk to you. From our conversation she seems to miss your friendship.”

Jordan was quiet.

“You know you miss her friendship also,” YFN said softly as she leant over to squeeze Jordan’s hand.

“Argh yeah, you’re right, I do… but YFN and I have been talking a lot and I think I just need my space. I can’t give her what she wants right now.”

Lucy nodded. “Maybe you should tell her that..”

“Well I planned to tonight but I just couldn’t. She took me by surprise when she came over and I wasn’t ready.”

“Maybe… maybe it would be easier to text? Face to face is better but I think she’ll understand a text, Dory.”

Jordan sighed and nodded. “I’ve been thinking the same to be fair. Can you help me?”

“You mean can I do it all and you proof-read?” YFN chuckled. “Anything for you.”

Jordan gave an exaggeratingly toothy grin and tossed her phone over with a loud air smooch. YFN wrote out a message she thought would be sufficient. Lucy watched her little face concentrating as she quickly wrote.

Leah: Hey, I really appreciate you trying to have a chat with me tonight, and I’m sorry I wasn’t really responsive. I’m not going to throw all of my baggage onto you, but you need to know the basics. The truth is that I really haven’t been doing well after losing you and then deciding I had to leave Arsenal. Being left off the England Squad was the nail in the coffin for me. I played tough but it hit me harder than I realised, harder than anything has, really. I will always love you, you’re an incredible human being and an even better friend. I did hear what you were saying tonight and appreciate that you want us to be friends, but I just can’t give that to you right now. I don’t have the capacity. I’m working on myself and will continue to do so. I hope when I’m a bit more healed and feeling like myself that you’ll still want to be friends and we can go back to that. I miss our friendship.

I’m sorry I couldn’t say all of this to you tonight, I’ll admit I chickened out.

Take care of yourself Leah x

YFN read out the message to them both. God, she was good with words, Lucy thought.

Jordan also seemed impressed. “Can you add ‘I’m really lucky to have some good friends around me’ please? She’ll worry otherwise. Well, she’ll worry regardless but it’ll make her feel better.”

YFN nodded and added it in. She gave the phone back to Jordan who sent the message, then took a deep breath and threw her phone to the other end of the couch.

“I’m really proud of you, Jords,” Lucy stated softly. The emotion in her voice was evident. YFN didn’t like seeing Lucy upset and she brushed the back of her hand up against Lucy’s under the blanket. They both twitched at the contact and then hesitantly hooked pinkie’s together. They both smiled and relaxed.

“Thanks Luce,” Jordan said, tired. “I feel so much better already.”

The trio sat silently and continued watching their movie. With the stress of that burden now eased off her, Jordan fell asleep in minutes, her little body curled up in the corner of the couch, her mouth slightly open. The other two were very aware that their feet and pinkie’s were still touching.

“Can we talk?” Lucy whispered to avoid waking Jordan. Her head was leaning back on the couch and she was staring at YFN like she had been for the past few minutes. YFN had been too involved in the movie to notice. She broke her eyes away and found Lucy’s face. Lucy’s face was welcome sight and she had a very vulnerable look in her eyes.

“Sure… this is my favourite movie. Do you like it?” She whispered, cheekily avoiding a deeper conversation.

“The Taming of the Shrew?”

YFN’s eyes lit up. “Most people don't know that it’s loosely based off Shakespeare. I’m impressed. You must be a hopeless millennial romantic like me.”

Lucy just grinned, watching her get so excited about a movie.

“Plus, how attractive is Heath Ledger in this, hm?”

Lucy raised an eyebrow in question at her attraction to a man.

YFN grinned back cheekily. “Hey, I can admire a pretty person. Plus he’s from Perth in Western Australia, just like me.”

Lucy reached out with her free hand and touched the little dimple on her cheek gently. It was the complete opposite of the aggressive Lucy she’d seen on the pitch.

“I love this.”

YFN’s breathing started getting ragged and she had to blink and suck in a deep breath. Lucy grinned at the impact she had on her. YFN gestured to her grin. “And I love that.”

They spoke at the exact same time then.

“I want to get to know you be-”

“We acted on lust.”

Lucy was surprised but she nodded. “Yes, we did. Can you blame us?”

“No.. not really. I think it was more my fault than yours.”

“Ohhhh no. No, you’re not taking any blame for that. You can give that blame to me, or we can share it. I was flirting with you all night.”

“I know..” she whispered. “I liked it.”

Lucy took a risk and moved her hand to entangle their fingers completely. YFN covered the back of Lucy’s hand with her second one and pulled it onto her lap. Lucy sucked in a breath. She wanted to feel her, taste her, make her moan and cry and call her name. She pushed the thought aside and cleared her throat.

“I’m only here for another week and a half.”

“Jords said you were a writer? You can write, and travel. You can write, and stay. We can explore… this. I know it’s selfish of me to even ask but I have contracts in England and Spain.”

“I’ve never been to Spain.”

“You’ll love it, and you’ll love Narla.”

“Narla?”

“My little fur baby. She’s a Westie.” Lucy looked like a proud mum.

Her eyes lit up. “Oh, I want to meet her.”

“Spain is great,” she continued. “Tapas, good food, relaxed vibe, we’re down at the beach most mornings or evening watching the sunrise or sunset.”

“I miss good beaches.” She stroked the back of Lucy’s hand with her thumb.

“Well, they’re not ‘Australia good’ but they they’re pretty decent.”

“To be honest Lucy, I have no idea what I’m going to do. Dory and I get along so well, and I know she has other friends, but I feel like she’s leaning on me a bit at the moment and needs me. So I can’t see myself leaving soon anyways.. I want to just stay and be there for her, you know? Plus Birmingham sounds interesting.”

Lucy nodded slowly, thinking. “Well that’s much closer than you going back to Australia. There’s an airline that does direct from Birmingham to Barcelona and it’s quite cheap also.”

“You’ve been thinking about this a bit..”

Lucy gave a sheepish shrug. “Hopeless millennial romantic, remember?”

They smiled and played with each other’s hands, leaning towards each other.

“We have no idea what this is..” YFN sounded unsure.

Lucy wanted to reassure her and so she opened herself up. “You’re right, we have no idea what this is. All I know is that I can’t get you out of my head. I’ve been thinking about you, and even dreaming about you since we first met. And I’m so thankful that you and Jordan are friends so that I get to see you. I want us to explore this.. whatever it is. I want to see where this goes, because I haven’t felt this in a long time – no… scratch that - I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before, and I want so much more.” YFN was staring at her with a vulnerable, empathetic expression, her lips partially parted. Lucy continued. “I want so much more now, I wanted so much more when I met you, and I definitely wanted so much more in that bathroom.”

YFN’s pupils dilated and she could feel herself getting excited. She squirmed in her seat and felt her cheeks redden. Lucy noticed this and felt YFN’s hands press hers down further, closer to her core as she stroked her hand a bit more nervously. She assumed that YFN didn’t know she had done this as she could see her thinking hard.

Lucy leant over to her and tucked a fallen strand of hair behind her ear. “Tell me what you’re thinking..”

YFN sighed. “You’ve been really honest with me, and so I’ll be really honest with you. I don’t think I’ve ever been this attracted to someone in my life so I’m struggling to even think at the moment.” Lucy chuckled and felt proud of herself. “My main concern is that I don’t want Dory to be hurt or put out.”

Lucy squeezed her hand in reassurance. “She’s one of my best mates. I’ll have a chat to her in the morning, okay?”

“A gentle chat, please.” She pleaded with her blue eyes. “If she’s at all put off or uncomfortable-”

“-then I’ll let you know and we’ll go from there.” Lucy finished. “So.. let’s have a date then, shall we? Tomorrow night?”

“I’m not sure if I can spend a night with you without lust taking over.”

“What’s the problem with that? We can save the drive and have a date at my house instead. I’ll cook.” Lucy knew it was cheeky but worth a try.

Lucy watched YFN roll her eyes but genuinely stop to think about it. She squirmed again and Lucy loved it.

“What time..?”

#engwnt #jordan nobbs #lionesses #lucy bronze #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze x reader #womens football #woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso soccer

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paperstorm · 3 months

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The argument/make-up in 2x04 is really one of my favourite Tarlos stories because I just love when conflict in fiction is the direct result of two people’s individual traumas bumping up against each other, rather than someone being a villain.

Both of them in this episode are coming from a place of having a large trauma in their past that the other doesn’t know all the details of. Carlos hasn’t told TK anything, at this point, about how his coming out went and how much pain he is in every single day because he feels like his parents don’t fully accept him being gay. He avoids the topic of his parents at Owen’s party when TK brings it up because he’s in a honeymoon phase with TK and he’s never had that before with anyone. He believes – like he says at the end when they make up – that he might never be able to have a real relationship. And he does likely know that at some point they’ll have to discuss his parents but he has never been as happy with anyone as he is with TK (insert season four context of he felt broken until the day they met) and he isn’t ready just yet for the dreamy bubble they’re in to be burst by reality.

So he deflects, in what will become a signature personality trait of Carlos’s – chronic avoidance and making jokes to get out of conversations he isn't ready to have. And then by accident they run into Gabriel and Andrea, and Carlos, still not ready to do this, panics and introduces TK as his friend. He knows he shouldn’t have done that, but trauma, so he acts like he doesn’t understand why TK is upset and he makes a joke out of it. He’s been anxious this whole time about how TK, who is so out and loud and proud, is going to react when he finds out Carlos is still half in the closet, and this is the very reaction he was so afraid of and why he avoided it for so long.

None of it is done with malintent, it’s all self-preservation and learned coping mechanisms from things in his past that have left such deep scars, but TK doesn’t know that, so it hurts him anyway.

TK, meanwhile, is still pretty fresh off of getting his heart broken so badly that he tried to kill himself. He went to Austin in a truly horrendous state of pain and trauma and heartache. He wasn’t planning on meeting his soulmate so soon, he wasn’t ready to meet his soulmate because of how much his heart was still in tatters, which is why we get him being so wishy-washy in season one. By early season two he’s also very much in that honeymoon phase, but that doesn’t mean his wounds are fully healed yet. He asks Carlos about his parents, it feels implied in the party scene that it isn’t the first time he’s asking about them. He’s given Carlos the opportunity to have the conversation that they need to have, but Carlos has changed the subject.

Then they run into them. TK is so happy to meet them, and then so instantly crushed when Carlos introduces him as a friend. He’s upset all the way home, and Carlos – for reasons TK doesn’t understand yet – is acting like it’s not a big deal. TK storms out because that’s how he copes with things at this stage in his emotional development, and leaves some hurtful words for Carlos as a parting gift. Not a mature way to handle things, but in a later scene with Owen and Gwyn it’s revealed how hurt TK really is. “I wanted him to tell them who I was and what I mean to him,” TK says, all dejected. “Maybe he did. Maybe we are just friends.” Because Alex also told TK "I love you", and then cheated on him. TK’s lingering Alex trauma bubbles back up; fuck not again, not another man who says ‘I love you’ to my face but then hides me and doesn’t really want forever with me, even though that isn’t really what’s happening with Carlos.

If it wasn’t for Alex, TK probably wouldn’t have been half as upset by any of this and would have been more receptive to hearing an explanation, but Carlos doesn’t know that, so it hurts him anyway.

It’s just such good conflict. They’re both right, and they’re both wrong. They’re both operating from places of extreme hurt that isn’t the other person’s fault, and they’re both operating from places of not understanding the extent of what the other is going through. And in the scene where they make up you can see how much love there is and how much they both really want to understand the other better. It’s such a beautiful way to love someone, to say to each other “let me meet you where you are and love you the way you need to be loved, even if it’s different from how I need to be loved.”

#911 lone star #911 lone star rewatch 2024 #andies annoying character metas

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buckleyx · 1 year

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hi, babes! i was wondering if you could possibly write a Buck imagine where the reader has awful parents, and is just comforting ? sorry if not! i’m also sorry if you’ve already gotten this request, my asks don’t send a lot - 🪐

FIX THE FAMILY E.B

the gif i used is not mine! all credit goes to the owner!

Author’s note: Hiya love! Sorry it took a while but here u go :)) I hope it's a bit what you had in mind. I love soft buck :(

Evan Buckley x gender!neutral reader

Summary: Your sister started a project to 'fix the family' and you're not sure how to feel about it.

Warnings: mentions of bad parenting + bad upbringing and toxic family relationships but comforting buck <33

masterlist

"Not again." You sighed, cursing under your breath as you saw your screen lid up. A blue text message covered the happy lock screen picture of you and Buck. You didn't even have to guess to know who it was from. Your sister had been bugging you all night about a family dinner. You had already politely declined 3 times but she kept pushing. You didn't blame her, your upbringing was a complete different story then hers.

She still had contact with your parents, even visits them every few weeks and she made an unofficial promise to 'try and fix the family.' As much how you despised the idea you couldn't fully blame her for trying. She was the youngest and the most successful and very clear the favorite.

You love LA, your life is here now and you don't feel the need to fix anything. You are happy where you are. You build something here, something personal and safe and your not ready to see it all fall apart again.

"Everything alright?" Buck asked, his head peaking through the door. You sighed, gently throwing your phone on the countertop. Buck's brows knitted together as he slowly made his way over to you. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Without saying a word, you tiredly leaned your head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around your waist, giving a soft kiss against your temple. "I don't know." You sighed. "It's my parents."

Buck knew you didn't have a fantastic relationship with them but the topic didn't come out often. Just like his parents. You had talked about your shared struggles but you both didn't like unnecessary mentioning it since it was such a heavy subject to touch for the both of you. You both just didn't wanna push anything. But when it did, when the topic came up in conversation, you both were as supportive as ever. Buck especially, you couldn't ask for anyone better in your life then him.

"I'm sorry to hear that." He comforted, brushing his fingers against your cheek. "It's fine." You brushed off. "My sister just thinks she can magically fix the family. I'm surprised they even let her try."

"Maybe they don't know."

"Yeah probably. I haven't seen them in so long. Why now? Why suddenly does she wants to change things now?"

"Have you asked her?"

"No not yet." You admitted, playing with his hair. "Last time I talked to them was Christmas eve."

Buck thought back at the memory and gave you a kind sympathetic smile as he recalled how the evening ended. It was a messy day full of nasty remarks and bitchy comments. First they didn't approve of your job, then of your boyfriend and then they felt the need to break everything else in your life apart. The list could go on forever. It was just horrible. Your brows knitted together as you tried your best to block out the memory. A sigh left buck's lips, he hated seeing you like this. He hated that he couldn't do more to help you. "They treated you afwul, y/n. It's okay not to forgive them."

"I know."

"I didn't forgive my parents." He admitted. "And I honestly don't think I ever will."

"If you want to contact them again, wait until your ready and when you truly want it for yourself. Not because someone forced you to. The same happend to me, I wasn't ready and it turned out into a big big mess." You fell quiet for a second, Buck was right but you had to take a moment to let the thoughts in your mind process everything. You went over every scenario about how that reunion could go before confirming that it wasn't time yet. You weren't ready. And that's okay. Maybe you'll never be ready and that's okay too.

You brushed away some of Buck's hair that had fallen in his face, your hand rested on his cheek before you leaned in and gave him a soft kiss. "Thank you." You said softly before giving him another kiss. The buckley gave you kind smile. "Come on. I'll make you some dinner. It It will help you clear your head."

911 Taglist: @roseelone @persie123 @nycbaddie @mrspeacem1nusone @ittzzgillianj @notnowtobey @princessamericachavez @campingmonkey @barzy90 @911readercollection @rapunzelflynnrider @stark3y-l3cl3rc-p3t3rs @essienoe @chloepluto1306 @zephyrmonkey @ittzzgillianj @quacksonhq @x-hey-its-paige-x

My requests are open! :)

Main Taglist: @onlinevampire1898 @reality1escaping @musicsavedme98 @zombiedixon89 @ladamari68 @angelofbowersgangwifey @incendiotriaaa @embon @pansexualmommamess @mykookieme-blog @fairyhope028 @alexxavicry @alexloveskili @one-sweet-gubler @attackonnat @strangersomeone @ahookedheroespureheart @asimplystrangemisfit @911readercollection

Let me know if you want to be added for future work!

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munson-blurbs · 1 year

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Hi there Bug! May I request one where Eddie and FemReader are in a committed relationship and Eddie’s breeding kink has been full on big time in overdrive because he really wants a kid and the more sex the better! Plus it’s around the holidays and they keep looking at baby stuff and Santa stuff etc which for some reason is making it worse But femreader finds out she can’t have any kids for whatever reason and is convinced Eddie will leave her because of it so heartbreakingly she tells him what’s going on and tells him if he wants to go and be with someone who can give him kids she would understand? Not being able to have kids myself and giving away little things I had gotten for the someday that never will come made me think of this one. (And No, I am not sad anymore about it- it just lets me help care for the little lost sheepies who don’t have anyone really. ) Thank you 💖

I hope I did your request justice. Thank you, from a little lost sheepie, for looking out for us 💚

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), breeding kink, infertility, mentions of abortion, angst, hurt/comfort

WC: 3.1k

Dividers from @firefly-graphics

The First Christmas

The Starcourt Mall around Christmas time was always a nightmare, packed wall-to-wall with busy, irritated shoppers. You were one of them; your husband was too busy pointing out every item he wanted to notice your misery.

“Babe, check out that leather jacket!”

“That notebook with the dragon on the front would be perfect for writing lyrics.”

“Holy shit! A collector’s edition of the new Metallica album!”

After years of dating and a few more being married, you’ve gotten pretty good at ignoring him when you need to. But when he drags you towards his next find, you can’t help but pay attention.

“Maybe we could get this?” It’s a thick, hardbound book of lullabies and bedtime stories. Drawings of barnyard animals adorn the cover. Eddie runs his forefinger over it gently, caressing it while deep in thought.

“Don’t you think it’s a little below your reading level?” you tease, threading your fingers through his free ones.

Eddie gives you a wanting look, deep brown eyes meeting yours. His expression is completely sincere. “I want a baby,” he states plainly, as though he’s simply asking for a bag of potato chips at the grocery store.

“Okay, Eds,” you snort, rolling your eyes. “Maybe Santa will leave one under the tree for you this year.”

“I’m serious.”

You sigh, tucking his hair behind his ear. “Can we have this discussion, like, not in the middle of the mall?” you whisper.

“Is that a ‘yes’?” he asks, unable to disguise the excitement in his voice. A hopeful grin stretches across his face.

“It’s a ‘maybe,’” you tell him, but there’s already a buzzing feeling in your stomach. You’ve been waiting for him to bring up the subject of kids. Of the two of you, he had been the most resistant to parenthood. It wasn’t an issue of liking or disliking children; Eddie had plenty of experience being a babysitter (well, co-babysitter with Steve Harrington) to his gaggle of misfits during his high school years. The problem was Eddie’s confidence in himself to be a good parent. No matter how many times you reassured him that he wouldn’t be like his own dad, or that your kid would absolutely adore him, he’d remained hesitant.

But now here he is, in a Borders bookstore, damn near begging you for a baby.

Eddie refrains from talking about it for the remainder of your shopping trip, save for when you passed by Santa’s Workshop. He’d taken one look at the kids running around joyfully and murmured, “that could be us with Baby Munson next year.”

The moment you close the car door, Eddie looks at you, beaming. “So,” he starts, rubbing your thigh, “can we talk now?”

“Since when are you ready for a baby?” you question, glancing over your shoulder as you pull out from the parking spot. “I’m not complaining, but I don’t wanna get my hopes up just for you to change your mind.”

Your husband pauses before he speaks; you know from experience that this is a rare occurrence. “This might sound dumb,” he chews on a fingernail while he speaks, “but when I saw that book, I could just picture reading it to a little baby. Our little baby,” he amends. “And I’m still scared, but I–I think I can do this. With you. Feel like I can do anything with you, sweetheart.”

“So, when do you want to start trying?” you ask coyly, though you have an idea of how he will respond.

“As soon as we get home,” he affirms, and you laugh at his intensity and at your correct prediction. “If it wouldn’t cause a wreck, I’d start right fuckin’ now.”

You grip his left hand with your right. “We’re really gonna do this?”

He squeezes your hand back, and there’s a slight tremble to it. “Let’s start our little metal family.”

As soon as you get through the door of your apartment, Eddie is weaving his hands through your hair and kisses you deeply.

“Eds, the presents,” you manage, but he just drops them by the couch before picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom.

“Don’t care about ‘em,” he mutters, plopping you on the bed with a gentle thump. “Just need you.” His tongue parts your lips as he climbs on top of you, knee nudging against your sex through your jeans. “You have no fuckin’ idea how badly I need you.”

You trace your fingers over the obvious bulge straining against his zipper. “I think I have a clue,” you murmur, giggling when he moans at your touch. “Sensitive, are we?”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says, pulling your shirt over your head and unclasping your bra, “you just gave me permission to give you a baby. What did you expect?”

You press your lips to his exposed collarbone before undressing him. “Want your baby, Eddie,” you whisper into his skin. Your fingers toy with his belt buckle and pants button until they’re both undone.

His strong hands slide beneath your panties; you can feel him grin as he glides his fingers along your folds. “Y’got this wet thinkin’ about me filling you up?” he teases, and you can only nod your response. “Ready for me to cum in you over and over until you’re pregnant with my baby?”

“P-Please,” you stammer, and in an instant, you’re taking him in. His thick cock stretches you in a familiar way. You hiss at the pressure, his thrusts speeding up as he lets himself get deeper inside you.

“You’re s’fuckin’ gorgeous, babe,” Eddie muses. “Can’t wait to see how beautiful you look, all round ‘cause you’re having my kid.” He gives you an incredulous look. “I just remembered—your tits are gonna get huge, fuck.” As if to emphasize his point, he sucks a bruise just below your left nipple.

You whimper as he grows even harder, tip rutting against your g-spot and pushing you towards your own release. “Gonna cum,” you choke out. You clench around him as you finish, crying out his name while digging your nails into his back.

“Good girl,” he praises you, which only turns you on more. “I c-can’t hold out; y’feel too good.” He spills into you with a groan, using his softening length to push everything in. “Gotta make sure it takes, y’know?” He kisses your cheek as you both come down from the high.

“If it doesn’t, we just get to keep trying,” you smile, catching your breath. At the time, it doesn’t seem like a bad thing.

The Second Christmas

You didn’t get pregnant that first month. Unsurprising; it rarely happened that quickly. You were disappointed when your period came, but you and Eddie had no problem having copious amounts of sex.

But after ten months without success, you decided to consult a doctor. “Maybe there’s, like, medicine I can take to help,” you’d told Eddie before you left. Still, a bad feeling gnawed at your insides as you’d said it; a feeling that was only confirmed by the doctor’s news.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Munson,” she’d said. “It looks like you don’t have any viable eggs.”

She’d droned on about genetic issues, but your head was swimming. It all boiled down to one outcome: infertility. Not giving Eddie the baby he wanted so badly. Not becoming a mom.

You’d practically collapsed into his arms when you came home, apologizing profusely without offering context.

“Baby, baby, what happened?” His own eyes filled with tears, as they often did when you’d cry. “What did the doctor say?”

After slowing your sobs, you’d repeated what you’d been told. “‘M so sorry,” you choked out. “I understand if you don’t wanna be with me…if you wanna be with someone who can get pregnant.”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “Absolutely not,” he shook his head, pulling you to his chest for a tight hug. “No, baby. ‘S only you. We can…we’ll figure something out.” A tear slipped down his cheek, though he’d tried to wipe it away before you noticed. “Maybe we were meant to look out for our little sheep, rather than have ones of our own.” But he didn’t believe it, not really.

And now it’s Christmas again. You pulled on a red sweater dress and ran a comb through your hair. The platter of cookies you’d made yesterday was wrapped and ready to bring to Nancy and Jonathan’s house.

“Eds? Good to go?” you call out, frowning when you don’t get a response. “Hello?” You pad out into the living room, finding him standing in front of your bookcase, looking forlornly at the book of nursery rhymes he’d bought this time last year.

“Sorry,” he clears his throat and blinks his red-rimmed eyes. “I was kinda hopin’ for a Christmas miracle.”

“Me, too,” you admit, wrapping your arms around him. You could stay like this forever, safe in his grasp.

“Y’gonna be okay today?” Eddie asks, offering a weak smile. “With, y’know…”

You knew. It has been on your mind every day since Thanksgiving. All of Eddie’s little sheep, now in their senior year of college, were back in Hawkins for the holiday. Everyone was chattering about career plans and graduation vacations. Well, everyone except for Max.

“You all right?” you’d asked her, concern written all over your face.

She’d quickly dragged you into the other room, away from everyone else. “Please don’t be mad at me,” she’d begged.

“Max, you’re like my little sister. Even if I got mad at you, I can’t stay mad at you for long.” You gave her a smile, but it faltered at her words.

“I’m pregnant,” Max blurted out. “I-I hooked up with someone when I first got back to school because I was really upset about breaking up with Lucas, and I was stupid and—and now I’m pregnant. And I was afraid to tell you because I know you…” she trailed off, not needing to finish her sentence. “I understand if you hate me.”

You were stunned into silence. “I don’t hate you,” you whispered. She barreled into you for a hug as you asked, “do you know what you wanna do?”

Max looked up at you with misted eyes. “I waited too long for an abortion,” she explained sheepishly. “Guess I was kinda in denial.”

You’d nodded, knowing all too well how easily it was to ignore the obvious. “Whatever choice you make, I know it’ll be the right one.”

That night, you’d curled up into Eddie’s chest and cried. Cried for Max, facing a daunting decision. Cried for you, trying so hard to have a baby with no success. Cried for the situation, that some people could get exactly what other people want, even when they don’t want it themselves.

You knew you’d be seeing Max again on Christmas, and now that day has arrived. It would be hard to look at her little bump, but she needed you now more than ever. You could suck it up for a few hours.

“How’re you feeling?” you ask her, attempting a genuine smile.

“Better now that I’m in the second trimester,” she started. “Not as nauseous.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. You’d risk nausea every day for the rest of your life if it meant having a baby, but you push on. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“Can I…can I talk to you and Eddie for a sec?” Her eyes flit between the two of you. “It’s important.”

You wave Eddie over, who’s listening to Steve ramble about a new car he’s thinking of buying. He nods at you gratefully. “What’s up?”

“Max has something to tell us,” you say, and his face blanches. Sometimes you forget how your infertility also impacts him; seeing Max pregnant wasn’t easy for Eddie, either.

“Sh-sure, yeah,” he mumbles, and the three of you duck into the guest bedroom.

“I’ve been thinking. A lot.” Max fidgets, tugging on a strand of her red hair. “And I realized that, as much as I already love this baby, I’m not ready to be a parent.” She takes a deep breath and blinks back tears. “But you two are.”

You sit forward. “Max, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying—well, asking, really—if you would maybe think about adopting it.” She finally allows her eyes to meet yours.

“Oh my God,” you manage, grabbing her hand. “Are you serious?”

She nods. “I want to be a forensic psychologist. Help solve crimes and keep people safe. But I know I can’t do that if I have a baby. At least, not right now,” she adds. “But I was really anxious about placing him or her for adoption with random strangers. Maybe it sounds silly, because I wouldn’t be the one raising the kid, but I couldn’t stop worrying about it.

“And then after I talked to you on Thanksgiving, I felt a little better. I didn’t have an answer yet, but just…just talking to you made me feel better. And I realized that whenever life got tough for me, I turned to you guys.” She gives you and Eddie a small smile. “And it was, like, why didn’t I think of this before? You’d be the best parents. You’ve already had plenty of practice with all of us.”

Eddie looks at you, slack-jawed. “You would do that for us?” he asks Max. “You really want us to adopt the baby?”

“Absolutely,” she confirms. “I know we have to get lawyers and all that stuff—”

“We’d cover that,” you jump in. “And we can help with doctor’s appointments, too.”

Max pulls you both in for a hug. “I’m still scared,” she admits, “but this makes it a little less scary.”

It’ll be a long road ahead, you know this for sure, but the three of you take a collective sigh of relief. Maybe you and Eddie have gotten your Christmas miracle after all.

The Third Christmas

“Nance, where do you want the green beans?” you call over your shoulder as you pull the casserole from the oven.

“You can put them on the table; should be space for them,” she answers, thinly slicing the ham. “I’m almost done with this, and we can sit down to eat.”

Gripping the dish with the oven mitts, you walk into the dining room and place it down. “Dinner’ll be ready soon!” you tell the other guests.

Hopper flashes you a thumbs-up. “El was just initiating Katie into the adopted daughter’s club,” he murmurs to you. “I heard her saying that they’re both extra special because they were specifically chosen by their parents.”

“She’s not wrong,” you laugh. “Although El’s powers help with that whole ‘extra special’ deal.” You look around the room. “Where are they now?”

“Diaper change,” El says as she passes by. “Eddie took her to Nancy and Jonathan’s room.”

You nod gratefully, walking over and lightly rapping on the door. “Is it safe for Mommy to come in, or is it a toxic waste zone?”

“You’re clear!” Eddie calls back. You hear the diaper bag zip up, accompanied by the sound of baby giggles. “This just in: Katie thinks zippers are the funniest things in the world.”

You bend down and scoop her up in your arms. “That’s only because she hasn’t heard any of your fantastic dad jokes.” Your body fills with warmth when your daughter rests her chubby little cheek on your chest. Your daughter. You still can’t get over it even though she’s nearly seven months old. Max gave birth a week after her graduation, and after fifteen hours of labor, a six pound five ounce Katie Munson was born. Once you found out that Max’s middle name was Katherine, you knew exactly what your baby girl would be called. You’d been worried that you wouldn’t bond since she’d spent the last nine months in a womb that wasn’t yours, but you’d felt an overpowering love from the moment the nurse placed her in your waiting arms.

Watching Eddie get to be a dad was nothing short of amazing. The way he peppers her face with kisses, or wakes up for middle of the night feedings, or picks out her clothes. Sometimes, he juts out his lower lip and holds up a tiny dress, cooing, “I didn’t even know they made clothes this little!”

“Let’s go get some food,” you say to your husband, bouncing Katie on your hip. You walk out of the room just as Max is walking out of the bathroom. Her face lights up when she spots Katie.

“Hi, Katie-girl!” she exclaims, reaching out to hold her. “Can Auntie Max get a hug?” You hand her over, watching Max inhale sharply.

You place your palm on her back. “You okay? If it’s…if it’s too much to see her…”

“No, no,” she reassures you. “I mean, it’s hard, but…I know I made the right decision.” She starts making funny faces at Katie. “Look at you with your red hair! It’s a blessing and a curse.”

“I can’t wait until she’s old enough to understand what her Auntie Max did for her…for us,” Eddie ruffles her hair as though she’s still fifteen years old instead of twenty-two. “We seriously cannot thank you enough, Red. You…you made us a family.”

The four of you are silent, absorbing all the love that flows between you, until Katie starts babbling and sends you all into a fit of laughter. “She says, ‘it’s time to eat!’” you joke.

And after a long day at Nancy and Jonathan’s, you finally arrive home. You try not to wake Katie when you take her out of her carseat, but she stirs and starts to wail. Muttering a swear word under your breath, you try rocking her back to sleep, but she keeps crying.

“C’mere,” Eddie says, lifting her from your arms. “I know what she wants.” He walks over to the bookshelf and plucks the book of nursery rhymes that he'd bought at the mall two years ago. He sits Katie on his lap, a big hand on her pudgy tummy. “Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall,” he starts, speaking in singsong, “Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.” He raises his eyebrows and gasps dramatically. “Oh, no! What’s gonna happen to Humpty Dumpty?” You smile as he finishes the rhyme, Katie now fully enthralled in the story. Her cries have completely subsided.

Maybe this wasn’t how you intended to become a mom, but now, you can’t imagine life any other way.

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson angst #dad!eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #requests

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porcelainseashore · 5 months

Text

Teenage Headache Dreams (4)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: High School! College! Leon Kennedy x Dancer! Fem! Reader

Summary: You’re a bored, but ambitious high school student who can’t wait to escape small town life and make it in the big city. You thought you had it all figured out, until you unwittingly befriend the resident golden boy, Leon. A series of events beginning from junior year to college until Resident Evil 2 Remake.

Warnings: 18+ Swearing, Recreational Drug Use, Eventual Smut, No (Y/N), Ambiguous/Open Ending

Content: High School AU, College AU, Pre-Resident Evil 2, Fluff, Romance, Cliche, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Lack of Communication

Author's Note: Things get heated in both senses of the word… I toned it down here, but the final chapter will go further 😉 I have to say this chapter was a bit of an unruly beast, but I hope it worked out in the end. Expect some angst and as usual, fluff.

AO3 Link

Chapter 4: Different Dreams

Since that wintry night in February which left you reeling from having kissed your best friend, you never found the opportunity to speak with him on where you both stood. Things just kept getting in the way: preparing for junior year finals, college admission tests, then summer placements and so on. To be fair, you weren’t exactly keen on confronting the question either, since you still weren’t sure whether you and Leon would be in the same place after graduating from high school. You had long since crossed the river of denial and you liked him a lot, but you were selfish. If you had to choose between a relationship with him and Tisch School of the Arts, the one college you had always dreamed of going to since you were young, you knew you’d pick the latter in a heartbeat. And that fucked you up. You couldn’t help but feel guilty each time he tried to broach the subject of “that night”, and when you brushed him off, he didn’t get upset or push it. He just waited patiently as ever, with a hopeful look in his eyes, that someday you’d be ready to talk.

Maybe it was just better to remain as friends. That said, you were there for him as one. You supported him, teasing through the countless college possibilities he had swimming around in his mind, after he returned from the school’s career counselor. When the local police force had come round to give one of their recruitment talks, he seemed to have taken an interest in their work. In particular, their speech about directly interacting with and helping civilians in times of need really resonated with him. Although you were wary about cops in general, questioning the punishment system and incidences of police brutality, you encouraged him to follow what felt right to him.

As you sat together with him on his bed, littered with a bunch of police academy brochures that were sprawled across the covers, he went through the reasons that led him to make this choice, and you began to connect the dots. “Remember when you said that I’m a good person?”

“Yeah?” You perked up.

“Well, I just wondered how I could be more of that,” he explained.

Did he feel like he needed to prove himself, just so he could believe in it? You were dying to tell him that he didn’t have to do all of this. That he was perfect the way he was. But sometimes people just needed to go through the motions themselves. This was his journey to make, so you bit back your tongue and listened.

“I want to help regular people, like you and me. Protecting the innocent, changing their lives for the better…” He stared into space for a while before continuing. “And what about all the unsolved cases? Those families deserve closure.”

You realized that closure from the past was something he never had.

“I mean, I just want to make a difference somehow,” he reiterated.

“Hm, that sounds stupid, doesn’t it?” He remarked sheepishly, constantly glancing at you for your opinion.

“No… no, not at all.” You shook your head, reassuring him sincerely. “Well, you know I don’t have the best impression of cops,” you laughed. “But that will change, with you.”

“You think so?” A slight smile formed at the corners of his mouth.

You leaned back against the mattress on your forearms and confirmed. “Hell, Leon. If there’s such a thing as a model police officer, I think you’re gonna be that.”

“There isn’t a single bad bone in your body.” You winked. “Not vouching for the lame ones though.”

“Gee, thanks.” He was blushing now as he twiddled his thumbs.

“I take it that you’re gonna enjoy helping old ladies cross the road?” You couldn’t resist teasing him when he looked like that.

“Sure, you know you can call on me anytime.” He smirked.

You forgot he had a knack for winding you up. “Fuck you, Leon!”

“Oh yeah?” He challenged, although you could tell from his expression that he was only half-kidding.

That stopped you in your tracks, as a mental image of you and Leon in various intimate positions formed in your mind. You swallowed hard, feeling a burning sensation of arousal surging within. Despite that, you shrugged off those thoughts and picked up one of the brochures lying in the pile to distract yourself. “So, you’re gonna visit the open house?”

You heard what sounded like a disheartened sigh before he replied, “Yeah I’d like to.” He turned to face you expectantly. “It’d be nice, if uh, you came along?”

“They’re all pretty nearby,” he added, trying to sweeten the deal. As if you needed convincing.

You rolled your eyes, exclaiming, “Even if it was a gazillion miles away, I’d still be there.”

Echoing his previous sentiment at the time he had supported you at your performance, you mentioned naively, “That’s what friends are for, right?”

When you caught him wincing and tightening up at the word “friends”, you realized the blunder you had made, but it was too late.

He stood up silently and made his way over to his desk, busying himself with a stack of papers.

That hand-wringing sensation of guilt started to swell in your chest again. You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Finally, you got up to leave. “Just let me know when, ok?”

He nodded his head in acknowledgement, without turning around to see you off. You walked out of his room with your eyes downcast, trying to console yourself that it was for the best. The police academies he had singled out weren’t even remotely near New York. There was no way it would work out. No way.

━━━━━━━━━━━

You accompanied Leon to the open houses that summer, as he got a good look around the various campuses, asking inquisitive questions and highlighting his athletic achievements, albeit rather humbly. After some nudging from you, he began to mention his academics too. You always held his intelligence in high regard, which you had noticed in class and during your study sessions, that were miraculously still going on despite his earlier reluctance. In your opinion, he would make a great detective, though he had tried to downplay it when you shared it with him.

In any case, you should’ve known that it never ends well when unresolved things are left to fester. So here you were, in your room this time, having the biggest argument you’ve ever encountered with Leon so far.

It all started when you were grabbing something quick from your shelf, before heading out with Leon for a walk along the surrounding forest trails, just so you could make the best use of the remaining summer days. He’d waited around the entrance to your room when something piqued his interest. Walking in, he pointed at a makeshift board lying by your bedside. “Jeez, what’s this? An evidence board or something?”

Whipping your head around, you laughed, “It’s to keep track of all the colleges I’m applying to, dumbass.”

Resting his fingers under his chin, he tilted his head and noted without hiding his disappointment, “They’re kinda far away.”

“And this one.” He pointed to the red circle in the middle. “That’s your dream school, huh?” At least he remembered. Not like you hadn’t been going on about it for ages.

“Yeah, since I was little.” You nodded, taking a couple of steps closer, till you joined Leon at his side. A moment of doubt set in, as you shrugged and chewed your lip nervously. “I don’t know if I’m good enough.”

“You’re more than good enough,” he stated simply, in a tone deeper than usual. It reverberated across the room as he eyed you intently.

“I’ve watched you-” He pulled you in close, wrapping an arm around your waist, which elicited a small gasp from your lips. “Perform.” His other hand trailed up to caress your cheek.

“Choreograph,” he continued, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Teach.” He smiled fondly at the memory of picking you up from class one day, as the little ballerinas you taught gathered around your legs quizzing, Miss, is that your boyfriend?

Meanwhile, it felt like your brain was malfunctioning, as you stood frozen on the spot, losing yourself in the pool of his ocean blue eyes, while he issued you compliment after compliment, finally finishing with, “You’re incredibly talented.”

Stroking his thumb gently over your bottom lip, his gaze followed suit, transfixed by its outline. Checking for any signs of discomfort on your face but finding none, he leaned in, planting his mouth on yours, as an involuntary moan escaped from your throat. No matter how much you tried to fight it, your body would not lie. It craved his touch, and all at once, you threw out the barriers you had placed between yourself and Leon in the past few months.

Sliding your hands up his chest, you parted your lips slightly to allow his tongue to slip inside. The kisses grew hungrier and more urgent as you tasted each other, causing you to stumble backwards onto your bed with him laying on top of you. You were so glad your parents were out, as the door to your bedroom was wide open and both of you weren’t exactly keeping very quiet about things. He peppered kisses along your neck, as his hands roamed across your body. Then his lips traveled downwards to your chest and you tangled your hands tightly in his hair, cursing his name in pleasure under your breath.

There were countless thoughts running through your head, like how fast you and Leon were going, and how badly you wanted him, but something was screaming inside of you about how wrong all of this was. You were just friends, right? You shouldn’t be leading him on like this.

With whatever resolve you had left, you tore yourself away and pushed him off you, stammering, “I’m sorry, I can’t!” You were shaking uncontrollably as Leon regarded you with a mixture of worry and confusion, panting heavily through his swollen, red lips.

“Wha-? Are you ok? Did I hurt you?” The questions came out like rapid fire.

“I-I’m fine.” You looked down in embarrassment as you adjusted your clothes.

“Then, what’s wrong?” His brows were knitted in distress, wondering if he had unknowingly crossed your boundaries.

“I just don’t think this is such a good idea,” you offered hesitantly.

Running his hand through the mess you had made of his silky blonde hair, he sighed, “Why? What about that night?” There it was again.

You bit your lip apprehensively. “We never followed up on that.”

As his face contorted in anguish, you knew that your time of delaying the inevitable had run out, and he wasn’t going to let it go now. “It was like you never wanted me to bring it up.” He began to raise his voice, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “I gave you months… Months!”

“It’s… complicated,” you whispered.

“How?” He asked, bristling with irritation.

“Well, for starters, we’re gonna be living miles apart by the time we finish high school.”

“You don’t know that,” he countered, crossing his arms firmly, as if shielding himself from being let down again.

“What do you mean?” You blurted out in bewilderment.

By now, he had gotten up and paced around your room restlessly. “You could… I don’t know, go to one of the bigger cities around here. I heard Chicago’s got a pretty good-”

You felt a flash of annoyance as you cut him off instantly. “You know I’ve wanted to go to Tisch my whole life!”

“I don’t understand you!” He choked, shaking his head furiously. “You’d travel miles with me to the academies, but you can’t even think of doing this long distance?”

He was grasping at straws to keep you, but you didn’t want to hurt him. You didn’t know if you were right for each other. In your mind, Leon was a bit of a homebody, judging by the college choices he had made. He needed someone who could provide him with stability and the white picket fence American dream. You couldn’t do that. You wanted to travel the world and live out new experiences.

As you hugged yourself wordlessly, unable to look at him, he softened, once again trying to reason things out. “I just thought… we mattered too.”

Your heart broke as he said that. You wanted nothing more than warmth and intimacy with him on this lazy Sunday, cuddling and trading affectionate kisses. But you couldn’t. “You do matter to me, Leon.”

“Then why do you keep pushing me away?” There was no more anger in his voice, only sadness.

He deserved an answer, and you would give him one. You just didn’t expect to be so inept at choosing how to express yourself. “We both have our own dreams,” you tried to explain. “They’ve just turned out to be very different.”

The next line came out a lot harsher than you intended. “I can’t have someone holding me back. I’m sorry.”

Before regret could even sink in, Leon had started to take his leave, his expression turning colder than ice. “No, I’m sorry for even trying,” he commented bitterly. “I’ll stop wasting your time.”

“Leon!” You called out after him, but he paid no attention and continued to walk off. “It came out wrong,” you pleaded. “That’s not what I meant!”

The last thing you heard was your front door slamming shut.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Over the next weeks when senior year started, you tried to reach out to Leon to no avail. He had become a distant shell of his former self. There was an air of aloofness each time you bumped into each other, as he pretended not to recognize you. All the notes you attempted to pass to him in class ended up crumpled and thrown into the bin without being read. You felt a stab to your gut every single time.

However, you were observant enough to make out the sting of hurt in his eyes when he thought you weren’t looking. You knew he was keeping you at an arm’s length to protect himself, but also partly to give you a taste of your own medicine, just like when you had foolishly dragged things on, hoping they would resolve themself without giving him an answer. Until it was too late. You hated him for being so immature and childish, but you held yourself responsible for starting it first.

Then, the rumors came. You saw him with that girl, Val?, again. They were doing the things you used to do together before the fallout. It made you sick to your stomach, but you said nothing. Maybe you deserved all of this, you thought.

“Lattes after class?” Kayla’s chirpy voice snapped you out of your reverie.

“Hm?” You weren’t really in the mood, but you tried your best to smile through it.

“They brought in the pumpkin spice ones early this season! Can you believe it?” She giggled excitedly, throwing her arm around your shoulder as she proceeded to whisper into your ear, “Come on, you and I need some girl-to-girl talk.”

As you made your way towards the cafe, you caught sight of Leon with his arm around Val on the other side of the street. Kayla wrinkled her nose at them, as she quickened her pace, pulling you along. “Smooth, real smooth, Kennedy,” she muttered under breath.

Whilst it was comforting to know you had someone who supported you through this - something which you didn’t expect, not least from Kayla - you were flung into the center of drama and gossip again.

Clink. Kayla placed both cups of coffee on the table as she sat down, adjusting her mini skirt before turning to face you attentively. “Spill it.”

You shrugged, glancing around awkwardly.

She tried prompting you at first, “Did he break up with you?” No answer.

“He did something stupid.” No answer.

“Oh my god, he cheated on you, didn’t he?” She accused melodramatically, such that a couple of customers in the cafe glowered over in displeasure at the noise.

You slapped a palm against your forehead and cringed. “Kayla, please.”

“Oops, sorry.”

You sighed, deciding that perhaps it would do some good to open up a little, instead of keeping things to yourself all the time. “It was me. I fucked up, ok?”

“Bullshit,” she scoffed. “It always takes two to tango.” She checked out her manicured nails for a second before continuing, “And even if he was the sweet angel as you claim he is, he sure is fucking it up spectacularly now.”

You raised an eyebrow. Strong choice of words. “Look, we were never really together. I mean, we did some things-” You paused, swallowing anxiously. “-friends don’t usually do.”

She gave you a knowing smirk, gesturing at you to continue.

“I told him…” At this, your voice cracked, “I didn’t want him, Kayla.” Your mouth quivered, as stray tears welled up in the corners of your eyes.

“Oh, babe,” she cooed. “But you do, don’t you?” She placed her hand over yours understandingly.

You weren’t used to crying, especially not out in the open like this. You pulled away from Kayla, wiping the tears away roughly with the back of your hand, as you straightened up and put on the same facade you always do. “It doesn’t matter anyway. He’s with Val-”

Immediately, Kayla scowled. “That girl has some nerve! I knew it,” she spat. “Always waiting in the sidelines to bag your man.”

“It’s not her fault!” You protested. As far as you were concerned, you and Leon hadn’t made any promises to each other. He was free to go out with whoever he wanted.

Kayla rolled her eyes, “I’m sure she couldn’t wait one hot minute.”

“If that’s the case, then Leon should’ve waited too, right?” You argued. If you had to go along with this warped way of reasoning with her, then so be it.

“Fair enough,” she conceded, though you could tell that she wasn’t exactly happy about the outcome, and you wanted to put a stop to whatever mean girl prank she had up her sleeve.

“I’m serious. Don’t,” you warned.

She threw up her hands in mock surrender. “Ok, Miss Party Pooper… I won’t do anything to her. I swear!”

━━━━━━━━━━━

It took you a while to realize what Kayla’s actual plan of action was. In her typical fashion, it was loud, flashy and drew the attention of the whole school. It happened during lunch break in one of the weeks following your girl talk. You had seated yourself with the rest of the cheer team at the cafeteria, when you saw her slam her cutlery down on the table, snarling, “That’s it. I’ve had enough of this shit!”

The rest of the girls including you stared at her in shock, as she stormed up to where the other sports teams usually sat. She made a beeline for the blonde boy whom you’d been moping about for most of the term now, situating herself between him and his latest flame. You couldn’t hear what she was saying, but it made Val scurry off, before she and Leon entered into some sort of shouting match. You only managed to make out bits and pieces of it.

“What the fuck’s your problem?”

“Let me guess, the classy rebound-” Slow clap.

“Stay out of it-”

“You’re the one causing trouble!”

The next minute, she pointed at you, motioning to come over. Leon’s eyes grew dark, giving you a withering glare as you walked towards them with a mix of reluctance and unease. You despised being singled out like this, but you needed to put an end to running away from your problems.

Once you had made your way over, Kayla, who was seemingly pretty satisfied herself, barked out an order, “You two, just sort it out! It’s driving me insane.”

When she left the table and the curious onlookers - which meant literally everyone in the cafeteria - had decided to resume back to whatever they were doing, you uttered the first words to Leon in a long time, “Well, that was awkward.”

“You don’t say.”

“Listen, I’m sorry. I didn’t know she would get like that,” you admitted.

He still held his guard up as he regarded you stoically. “So what did you want to talk about?”

You sighed, hoping you would do better this time. But there was just so much to say. Where to start? “I just wanted apologize for what I said that day,” you treaded cautiously. “I miss you, Leon.” You were getting glassy-eyed again, but you braved on. “And I still really care about you.”

His lips were pinched together as he considered your words. He had his reservations, but his hard gaze was slowly faltering. For a while, he didn’t respond. Just as you thought you had overstayed your welcome, he piped up almost inaudibly, “I care, too.”

You nodded in response and took your leave. You knew things would never be the same again, but this was enough for now.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The atmosphere between you and Leon remained tense, but at least it was amicable now. Apparently, Val was out of the picture. Nothing happened, they went on a date or two and Leon called it off. Well, that was what was going through the rumor mill anyway.

Still, it killed you inside, as it felt like you had lost a lover and a best friend. When you received your acceptance letter in December from Tisch, you didn’t even know whether to celebrate or not. Moreover, the one person you would have celebrated with was hardly in your life anymore. Kayla pushed you to tell Leon regardless, and you started to think maybe you had the wrong impression of some of your schoolmates after all. They did seem to look out for you, in their own weird way. It was like reading Pride and Prejudice all over again.

That’s what brought you in front of Leon’s front door, as you rang the doorbell in anticipation. You flinched as the door opened. The corridor was bathed in a warm, golden glow as the light filtered through the doorway, partly blocked by Leon, who peered out at you curiously. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you called out timidly. God, it was like you were strangers again. “Um, can I come in?”

“S-sure.” He held the door open for you, as you took in your surroundings. It had been months since you’d last visited, but nothing much had changed.

“So… what can I do for you?” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. You weren’t used to this formal way of addressing each other. It gave you goosebumps.

“I thought it was only right to let you know,” you started. Your hands were trembling as you held out a thick white envelope towards Leon. “I-I got in.”

He took the envelope in his hands, frowning as he opened it. As he glanced over the papers, a spark of recognition shone in his eyes. “Oh! Uh-” He looked like he was at a loss for words as a wave of conflicting emotions washed over him. “Congratulations! I guess.”

“Thanks.” You nipped at your lip lightly, wondering if your next question would be appropriate. “Can I have a hug?”

For a fleeting instant, he looked like a deer in the headlights, but then he got a hold of himself. “Y-yeah.”

It took both of you a good minute to navigate your way into an embrace, so much so you nearly laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. But once you were in each other’s arms, you relaxed, breathing in his familiar scent that you grew to love. “I missed this,” he sighed blissfully into your hair. You deepened the embrace, pulling him closer to you.

“I guess I should also tell you…” He pressed his lips to the side of your forehead as he spoke, “I’m heading to the police academy in Springfield.”

Your heart leapt out of joy and ached with melancholy at the same time. “That’s fantastic! I’m so proud of you, Leon.”

“Mm, you always know how to make me feel…” his words faded off as he broke away from your arms, but held your gaze, as if asking, “What now?”

Maybe this was your chance for the heart-to-heart that was long overdue. And you grabbed it with both hands.

“I was scared,” you started. “I didn’t know how it could work out with the distance, maybe even performing internationally…” After a brief pause, you revealed, “I thought you wanted the suburban dream.”

“When did I ever say that?” He blurted out, with a look of shock plastered across his face.

You flinched, realizing that he had a point. He never mentioned wanting that. These doubts you had appeared to stem from your own fears projected onto him. “I-I thought…” You trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

“You could’ve asked me,” he replied, seemingly perturbed from the misunderstanding that occurred between the two of you. “I really wished we talked about this.”

Your eyes dropped to the ground, as you felt a heavy weight in your chest. “I’m sorry, I just assumed it was the case.” At this, he grasped his forehead in his hands and sighed wearily.

This was all so stupid. But you needed to tell him exactly how you felt about him, especially after this wake-up call. “Leon, hear me out, please? When I lost you, I realized I was so caught up with running as far away as I could from this place, that I didn’t see how important being with you was to me.”

You forced down a lump in your throat as you continued, “You never held me back, I was wrong to say that.”

“I want you,” you confessed. “Always have.”

You felt completely exposed, as if every part of you was laid bare and open to scrutiny. “I just had to let you know, even if you don’t feel the same way about me anymore.”

As you folded your arms to brace yourself for what would come next, Leon reached out and caressed your hair comfortingly. “I-” he paused. “If this is about Val, I’m sorry I did that,” he apologized. “I was hurt, and it wasn’t fair to either of you.”

Placing his fingers under your chin, he lifted it to bring you within eye contact. “However, I need you to stop guessing what you think I might want,” he stated firmly. “I can make my own decisions, ok?”

As you nodded in agreement, his gaze softened, and he took you within his arms again, cradling your head against his chest. “And… you haven’t lost me, but I need some time.” He sighed. “This was all just-”

At that moment, you were interrupted by his mom, who’d made her way in from the living room. “Gosh, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

You and Leon let go of each other self-consciously, as she spontaneously invited you to dinner with the family that evening, which had just been freshly cooked and served out on the dining table. As you shared in the laughter and light-hearted conversations together, you couldn’t help but feel a sliver of hope about your future with the boy sitting beside you.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Prom night was coming up. At least that was what Kayla kept reminding you. You still had a few months to prepare, but for her it was the most important social event of high school. No one had asked you out yet, and Kayla felt that wouldn’t do. Secretly, you wished Leon would have made a move by now, but maybe things were still too raw.

As you emptied out your locker, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Spinning around, you brushed up against one of the footballers you had hardly spoken with during your school years. He must have noticed the bemusement on your face, as he spoke first, “Wanna go to the prom with me?”

From afar, you heard a distant giggle and narrowed your eyes at the source. Kayla’s sly grin gave it away. She set the whole thing up. Why?

You glanced between her and the beefy guy in front of you. Clearly not your type. At all. “Uh…” you tried to stall, wondering how you were going to maneuver your way out of this situation.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the side, snaking an arm around your waist, causing you to yelp in surprise. “She’s coming with me.” You’d recognize that voice anywhere.

Hm, this was getting interesting. Talk about Mr Knight in Shining Armor to the rescue.

Leon turned to face you. “Am I right?”

“Y-yeah, I’d like-,” you paused to recollect yourself. “I’m going with you,” you confirmed with a hint of shyness.

The footballer backed off, raising his hands in the air as he excused himself clumsily. “Sorry man, my bad. I didn’t know she was taken.” Leon was giving him the stink eye all the way through.

“You trying to make me jealous, baby?”

Baby? You gulped. What the hell has gotten into him? You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. But his arm was still resting on your waist with no intention of letting go anytime soon.

You saw Kayla shrug and dust her hands, before sashaying away. You had to hand it to her though. Fucking mastermind genius.

“Well, you never asked.”

“I did now,” he retorted smugly.

Ok, so you were back to bantering. Guess you could deal. But it still didn’t answer the question on where you stood with him. Had he finalized his thoughts since that talk you had?

“Leon,” you sighed. “Is this your way of saying you’d like to make things official?”

“Sorry about that. I was kinda put on the spot,” he admitted bashfully, as if he had been caught doing something wrong and now had a tail between his legs.

“But yeah, I want to,” he professed. “Do you?” He stared at you, swallowing nervously. “I mean, would you like to be my, uh- girlfriend?”

You gave him a coy smile, copying one of his previous lines in response. “Sure, I suck at it. So why not?”

“Never know till you try.” He beamed in return, unable to conceal the sheer look of happiness on his face any longer. “Guess we can figure out the rest along the way.”

“Uh huh.” You glanced around, all of a sudden painfully aware that you both were having this conversation in full public view. Although the other students were pretending not to pay attention, you knew they had seen and overheard everything.

A hot flush rose to your face. It didn’t seem to deter Leon as he tugged you closer with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. You had an inkling of what was about to unfold, but you chose to embrace it.

“Let’s give them a show, shall we?” He smirked, and with that, his lips collided into yours, as you made out against the lockers, oblivious to the world around you.

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