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thecreelhouse · 18 days

Text

handle with care

Paring: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Eddie and Robin think Steve needs to get out more, but he ends up in what he believes to be the wrong place at the wrong time, until he meets you. (meet cute/ugly au!!)

WC: 2.7k

CW/Tags: language, alcohol, mentions of injuries/blood, teeth mention, super brief suggestive moment, but the rest is awkward yet sweet fluff, reader is GN except for one gendered term at the end I couldn’t work around (apologies!!)

A/N: 10 years ago I broke my tooth on some poor dude’s head while stage diving, so here’s a fic inspired by that LMAO. I didn’t realize how similar some of it is to an old fic I wrote in 2020 until I finished writing this, but the overall idea is different enough to still post imo. this is silly and I don’t expect anyone to read it but if you do, thanks and enjoy! <3

“Oh. Oh, dude… that looks rough.”

Steve’s stumbling out of the small yet packed crowd, holding his head while blood drips down his face. He looks miserable, to say the least.

“Last fucking time I let either of you drag me out to some shit like this.”

“Whoa, hey, man, it’s your fault for not knowing pit etiquette,” Eddie snarks back, still handing a napkin over to Steve.

As soon as it’s in his hand, Steve recoils and throws the napkin back at Eddie. “Why is this wet?”

“Found it on the bar—“

“Jesus Christ.”

Robin rolls her eyes, handing Steve a clean, dry napkin for the blood. “The hell happened?”

“Some fucking idiot decided to stage dive onto me, and something hard stabbed my forehead.”

Robin stifles a laugh, but Eddie doesn’t bother hiding his snicker. “Dude, I warned you about crowdsurfing, pits, and stage diving.”

“What happened to just… enjoying music with your ears?”

Eddie quips back, “There’s absolutely no fun in that, Harrington.”

Steve drops into the barstool next to Robin, holding his head with a groan. She moves his hands away from the source of blood. “Let me see— oh, shit.”

“What? What happened? Is it bad?” Steve panics, but as he looks up, he sees Robin looking over his shoulder down the bar. Eddie follows her gaze, eyes narrowing at someone asking the bartender something, ending up with a glass of water.

“Think I found your idiot.”

Steve turns around, but too quickly, hit with dizziness instantly. “God, I’m never leaving the house without a fucking helmet ever again.”

“Hey, hey—“ Eddie calls out to you while you’re walking by the trio, rubbing your finger along the new, jagged edge of your tooth, lost in your thoughts. You spit into the closest trash can, blood tinged saliva finally off your tongue before taking a sip of water. Eddie’s hand lands on your shoulder, spinning you around. “Dude, what’s your problem?”

Your brows scrunch together as you shrug his hand off of you. “What’s yours?”

“Is— did you break your tooth?” Robin can’t help asking as you run your thumb along the sharpness of your now damaged front tooth.

You yell over the music, “Yeah, some fucking moron wasn’t moving with the crowd, and chipped my tooth! I think I hit their head while stage diving. Who the fuck comes to these shows to just stand there?”

Robin and Eddie both glance at each other before bursting into a fit of giggles.

“What? What’s so fu—“ You glance between the two of them, then notice Steve, cradling his head in his hands as he holds a napkin to the wound; your face drops in a cruel mix of embarrassment and guilt. “Oh. Oh my god— fuck, dude, I- I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, no, it’s fine, it’s not like I haven’t had enough concussions in my lifetime, or anything.” Steve groans, side eyeing you. He’s about to give you more sass, only to become distracted with your face. You’re so … pretty. He was expecting some annoying, ‘tough guy’ to be the culprit, not someone cute like you. “I— it’s cool, what’s one more, right?”

Robin has to hold back her laughter at Steve’s attempt of a save, spinning around on the barstool as she tries hiding her face in her drink. She only ends up laughing, dribbling onto her shirt.

“Great job, Buckley, can’t take you anywhere either.”

Robin ignores Steve’s remark after the first few notes of another song begins, “Oh, wait! Hold on, hold—” She downs her drink before yelling, “I loooooove this song!” Looking over at you, she asks, “You two should be fine, right? Great!” She hops off the barstool before dragging Eddie into the crowd with her.

Immediately you take her seat, gently pushing Steve’s hair away from his face. “C’mon, lemme see the damage— oh no.”

Steve groans, lifting his head with his eyes screwed shut from the pain. “If I hear one more ominous “oh” I’m gonna lose it.”

His comment is shrugged off, “Probably should properly introduce myself, since, y’know, my tooth decided to meet your head first.” Your joke pops his eyes open, laughing for a moment until it worsens his pain with a cringe. “Ah— shit, sorry!” You shoot him an apologetic glance before offering your name.

Glancing up at you, getting a better view of your features, he stumbles over what should just be a simple response. “St- Ste— my name? It’s Steve.”

You bite your bottom lip to hold back a giggle before continuing, “Steve, I got bad news for ya’.”

“What now?”

Taking over on blotting the wound, you move his hand away softly as your own adds pressure to stop the bleeding. He blushes under your touch, welcoming and soft in contrast to the sharp pain you accidentally left behind first.

“You’re gonna have to wear a bandage on that cute face for awhile.”

Steve laughs at your corny attempt of flirting; like he’s any better.

“Yeah, well…” His eyes meet yours, then fall to your smile. The part of your tooth cracked off isn’t terrible. Noticeable, sure, but somehow you make it work. “I got nothin’ clever to say, but you’re still cute with a broken tooth. Not easy to pull off.”

You roll your eyes playfully with a smile as kind as your touch.

“I’m so sorry me and my tooth happened to dive bomb into your pretty head,” You tease, using your free hand to rummage through your jacket pocket before finding a sealed bandage. “You mind if I see?”

“I mean… your tooth was literally in my head, so I don’t think you have to ask.”

“Okay, sassy pants, hold still.” You carefully remove the now bloody napkin away, noticing the gash is pretty rough, but not worth an ER trip, thankfully. The bleeding’s beginning to slow down.

“What’s the news, doc? Am I gonna make it?”

“Hm… not sure. Might need a drink for that,” You smirk, applying the bandaid to his head. Steve looks a little silly, but still terribly attractive. “Pick your poison, s’on me.”

“Oh, I- I—“ He glances up at you as you lean onto the bar, admiring how your outfit hugs you in all the right places. “S- surprise me?”

You give another smile before catching the bartender’s attention. Steve misses what you order with how hard his head is pounding, loud music no help whatsoever. You murmur a quick thanks before sliding a tip towards the bartender, handing Steve his drink before knocking your glass against his, “To the only idiots in this place.”

There’s cherries in both yours and his, but he has an extra; after taking a sip, his eyes go wide with nostalgia. “Why does this taste familiar?”

“Dirty Shirley!” You exclaim happily, but Steve looks confused. “Like, a Shirley Temple, but grown up! Get it? ‘Cause it’s got the vodka?” You force a laugh at your own bad humor, but the way you poke fun at yourself earns a genuine, soft laugh from Steve as he shakes his head. “Used to be my fave drink as a kid, and now it’s even better.”

“You didn’t get as many cherries as I did,” He points out with the slightest pout while you take a sip.

“Told ‘em yours needed to be as sweet as you.”

“You’re knocking it outta the park with these corny lines.”

“Yeah? Enough to apologize for being a total asshole and flinging myself on you?”

Steve hums, lips on the edge of his glass, “Might need to try a little harder.” He knows he’s not a lightweight, so it can’t be the alcohol making him feel so airy and bold, it has to be the head injury. He reaches out to your chin, gently pulling on it to lower your bottom lip; you part your lips, catching on immediately as you try playing it cool, ignoring the way your breath hitches.

It’s got to be a weird sight out of context, watching Steve feel along your broken tooth, but it’s kind of on par for how weird this entire situation has been. “S’sharp. Does it hurt?” If this was any other stranger touching your tooth you just broke on their head, you’d be creeped out, but something about Steve’s demeanor shows he means no harm.

“Sore but it ain’t so bad. Got my nose cracked in a pit last year, that was worse.” You shrug while Steve looks at you like you’re insane; his hand pulls back before you become nosy. “So… gonna tell me why your polo wearing ass is in a place like this?”

He nods over to Robin and Eddie, bopping around the crowd. “Those two thought I needed to get out of the house more.”

“Shoulda’ picked something more your speed,” The comment’s lighthearted, but you feel bad instantly; you barely know Steve, you probably should ease up on the teasing. “M’sorry again, like, for real. I got way too excited to stage dive for the first time, and it’s definitely my last.”

“Nah, you’re right, I stick out like a sore thumb in a place like this.”

“What? In a dive bar balls deep in the DIY scene? The whole point of subcultures in music like this is giving everyone a place to feel welcome, even if they’re cute dorks that don’t move with the crowd.” You catch yourself before rambling away about something you’re so passionate about. “If there’s ever a show you wanna go to and need someone to hang with, I’m always down for shit like this. Even if it’s something more your speed, just lemme know.”

Steve finds himself smiling over your offer, curiosity getting the best of him, “Why do you like all of this—” He gestures lazily around the club “—so much?”

You down the rest of your drink, “It’s a second home to me— and that sounds bizarre, I’m sure, ‘cause, like… how the hell do you feel at home in a room full of strangers? But I feel safer losing myself to the music with people who get it.” You pull a cherry out of the glass, popping it into your mouth with a pluck of the stem. “Whether I’m by myself or with friends, it beats being home home, I guess. Either way, I don’t feel so alone here.”

Steve watches you fidget with the cherry stem, mentally kicking himself for asking something so personal. “I- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t— that’s—“ He collects his thoughts for a moment, “I’m sorry if that put you on the spot to answer so… uh—“

“Keep your apology, Steve, you did nothing wrong. My bad for over sharing, I tend to do that… a lot.”

He shakes his head, “Hey, don’t— you keep your apology, too.” He’s not sure when his hand reached for your arm, softly squeezing it in a supportive gesture, but you don’t seem to mind. He laughs humorlessly, “Jesus, are you bad with that too? I feel like I’m apologizing all the time for just—“

“Just existing?”

“Yes!” He’s a little too excited to relate to someone with a personal struggle, but you don’t mind.

You lift his hand off of your arm, and for a moment he worries he was too forward, but you gently hold his hand in yours, pressing your palm against his. The two of you splay your fingers out, pressed up against one another.

“Don’t know why you’re scared of being in a pit with hands like this. Y’could totally take on jerks like me who get carried away.” Your comment isn’t meant to be anything more than harmless and playful, but once the words leave your lips, you curse yourself internally for how they’re phrased.

Steve’s brow quirks, and your mouth opens, about to apologize, but he beats you to it. “Can’t tell if that was supposed to be another corny pickup line or not.”

“… Maybe it is.” You smirk, but anxiously add, “Unless it’s— it doesn’t— not unless—“

“Unless I want it to be?” He finishes for you, intertwining his fingers with yours. “‘Cause I do.”

You beam with a nod, “So… you wanna hang out again? Like, for real, not this whole tooth in your head mess.”

Steve finally shoots a smooth response, “Can’t do that unless I have your number, y’know.”

“Oh— oh, duh, oh my god.” You lean over the bar, asking the bartender for a pen and paper, but he only has a pen; there’s probably something cliche in the way you’re writing your number on a bar napkin, when just minutes earlier, you used them to halt the bleeding from Steve’s head.

Scribbling it down, you hand it to Steve, but not before a tiny boost of confidence pushes you to add, “Might need your number too, in case one of your friends decides to use that napkin.” He side eyes you with a hint of a smile, writing and exchanging his number with you, too.

Neither of you notice Robin and Eddie across the room, yell-whispering to one another over the music as they gossip over the two of you.

“You saw that too, right? They did the hand thing, the hand thing!” Robin happily shouts, and Eddie chuckles with a shake of his head.

“Yeah, they’re definitely gonna fuck.” Eddie snickers and Robin jokingly smacks his shoulder.

“Bet they’re gonna be endgame.”

“Sure fuckin’ hope so, it’d be one hell of a story.”

—

Omitting anything inappropriate, especially the last part— told to you teasingly a month into dating Steve— you finish retelling the night you and Steve met.

“That’s how you met Daddy?” The twins’ reactions starkly contrast one another’s, as usual; your daughter is horrified, while your son is thrilled to learn this.

“S’so silly!” He falls onto his back from his spot on the floor, holding his tummy as he laughs loudly.

“Did he glue your tooth back together?” Your daughter asks, blatantly ignoring that Steve has no dentistry experience whatsoever. You hold back your laughter, not wanting to make her feel bad.

“No, honey, I actually spit it into—“

“— Into their hand, and safely took it to the dentist for him to fix the next day.” Steve rushes in as he walks by the room, overhearing the conversation; he looks to you, eyes wide, mouthing, “what are you doing?”

Your daughter runs to Steve, clinging to him like a koala. He laughs as he lifts her into his arms, watching as her tiny hands push his hair away from his face; he starts going cross eyed trying to follow her movement.

“Sweetheart, what are you up to?” Steve chuckles as she runs her hand along his forehead, face displaying a state of determination.

“Where is it?”

“Where’s what?”

“Where’s the spot Mommy’s tooth hit your head?”

He glares down at you playfully while his daughter continues searching for a scar. Looking back at his daughter, he answers, “It faded awhile ago, probably from all the forehead kisses Mommy gave me.”

You force a fake cough, “Corny.” At the same time, both of your kids make “blech!” noises.

Before Steve can retort, your son runs to climb into your lap, excitedly asking, “Can you show me how to do that?”

Your brows furrow a bit but you laugh, “Show you how to do what, kiddo?”

“Stage diving!”

Both you and Steve exclaim a firm, “NO.” making your son pout, but only for a moment.

“S’okay, I’ll ask Uncle Eddie instead,” He slips off your lap, marching out of the room; his sister wriggles out of Steve’s grasp, and he takes the hint, setting her down gently. She gives a “hmph!” stomping out after her brother.

Once the coast is clear, the two of you burst into a fit of laughter.

“Did you ever think us being absolute idiots would lead to all of this?” You find yourself asking Steve between giggles. He pulls you up off the chair and into his arms, kissing the top of your head as he laughs softly.

“Not at all, but I wouldn’t change a damn thing.”

You push his hair away from his face, finding the very faint scar from that fateful night years ago, pressing a soft kiss to the exact spot, thinking:

What a hell of a story.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #my fics #handle with care

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rizzanon · 5 months

Text

[Favourite] Shinichiro Sano

in which Shinichiro's siblings love you as much as their brother does

a scenario from the childhood friend! Shinichiro post, but can be read as a standalone

“(n/n)-chan! You're finally here!!”

Before you could fully turn around to see the person who called out for you, you were immediately pounced on by two little gremlins. A blond haired boy and a honey blond hair girl.

It seems that the two kids had been waiting eagerly for your arrival.

You could only smile at the sight, quickly hugging the two kids back, as you kneeled to look the both of them in the eyes.

“Hi Emma, Manjiro! Have you been waiting for me to arrive?”

The blonde hair girl nods her head eagerly, as she linked her arm with yours.

“Yes! I want to show you my new tea set!”

“Hey no fair! (n/n)-chin promised me that she'll let me show her the new taekwondo moves I've learnt!” The blond boy interjected, as he grabbed your other arm and pulled you towards him.

Being sandwiched between the two kids, you didn't know what to do to ease the both of them. You were about to open your mouth to say something to calm them down when someone beat you to it.

“Hey now, both of you. Leave her alone. Give her some space to breathe, will ya’?”

You looked up to see a familiar black haired guy walking towards the three of you. His hair and shirt slightly messed up and his face filled with some minor bruises. The two kids who were begging for you to follow them immediately stopped their antics, looking down in shame at being caught.

“Sorry, Shin-nii.”

Leave it to Shinichiro to control his siblings.

You looked up at your black haired friend, eyeing his unkempt appearance.

“Woah, you look like shit.” The taller male scoffs at your words.

“Rude. You think I don't know that already?”

“Just reminding you, that's all.” You hummed.

Your friend rolls his eyes at your words, before chuckling.

“Leave it to you to remind me of my shortcomings.”

“Maybe if you didn't decide to avoid your grandather's dojo lessons, you might've been able to come out of the fight not looking like shit.”

Shinichiro only sheepishly looked away, knowing that he couldn't refute your words.

“And this is why you should hang out with me instead, (n/n)-chin! I'm way stronger than Shin-nii. Even gramps said so!” The blond haired boy proudly exclaims, earning a groan from his older brother and a giggle from his younger sister.

“Is that so? Maybe you should teach your brother some moves then. He could use some lessons.” You teased, ruffling the younger male's hair as he looked up at you with stary eyes.

“Oi, don't go giving him ideas now. It's bad enough I have gramps on my ass.” Shinichiro grumbled, shaking his head exasperatedly.

“And who's fault is that?”

“.....Fair enough.”

You felt a tug at your left arm, and looked down to see a wide-eyed Emma staring at you with pleading eyes.

“Come on (n/n)-chan! Now that Shin-nii's here, we can all have a tea party with the new tea set grandpa got for me!”

You see from the corner of your eye the brother duo quietly trying to escape, but you knew better and grabbed them both by their collar, stopping them from leaving.

“And where do you two think you're going?”

“Heheh... I just remembered I have work to do...!” Shinichiro mumbles out a poor excuse, as he tries to get out from your grasp, only for you to pull him back.

“Going to do some measley work when your dear sister over here invited you to a tea party?” Your expression right now was scary, even Manjiro knew not to do anything stupid and just follow what you say.

Shinichiro sweats profusely, as he avoided all eye contact with you.

“Right... right... my bad. You're absolutely right...”

“See, it's not so bad, right?”

You were seated at a kiddy table, with plastic cutlery and food on it, while holding a cup of imaginary tea that Emma handed you.

You hear some groans from the older male, and you shoot him a nasty glare.

“What's with the attitude?”

“What attitude? I'm thoroughly enjoying my afternoon cup of tea over here.” Shinichiro replies, as he pretends to sip on the said tea.

You chuckle and roll your eyes at his gesture, before turning to look at the younger boy, who was blatantly pouting.

“What's wrong lil' guy?”

“This is boring. What's the point of having a tea party when there isn't even any real food or tea?!?”

“Hey! I tried my best okay! Can't you see!!?” Emma exclaims, as she crossed her arms out of indignance.

“Who says there isn't any real food though?”

The two kids immediately whipped their head towards your direction, and in an instant, you could see their eyes light up at the sight of the goodies and snacks you had brought with you.

“Woah...! Did you-”

“Yes, Manjiro, I also brought taiyaki with me too.”

“(n/n)-chin, you're my favourite person from now on!” The blonde haired boy exclaims, as he rushes towards you to receive his favourite treat.

“Was I not already your favourite person?” You chuckled, as you took out the packet of taiyaki you had bought specifically for the younger boy. His eyes widened, before he flashed a boyish grin at you.

“Of course you were! You still are now too, just had to remind you again.”

“You're my favourite person too, (y/n)-chan!” Emma gushed, as she too made her way to see the variety of snacks you had brought for them.

“Is there any for me?” You see the older male peeking over your shoulder, with a hopeful look in his eyes. Seems like he too was in the mood for a treat.

“Nope.”

Shinichiro's expression immediately becomes one of distraught, as he puts a hand to his chest.

“Ouch! Your words wound me, (y/n). How could you forget to bring a snack for this dear friend of yours.”

Is this guy serious?

“Cut your bullshit Shin. You're fooling no one with your act.”

Shinchiro visibly flinches at your words, before returning back to his normal self.

“Oh well. It was worth a try. Wanted to see if it would earn me some pity points from you.” Shinichiro shrugs, right before he was met with a bag of chips smacked right across his face. He immediately falls back from the sudden impact, earning giggles from his two younger siblings.

“Woops, my bad. Didn't mean to aim for your face.” You apologised, not sparing a glance at the black haired guy.

You definitely meant to aim for his face.

Shinichiro just laughs it off, as he shifted to sit next to you, opening up the packet of chips you threw at him.

“Aww, I knew I was always your favourite. You even got me my favourite flavour of chips too!” Shinichiro teases, earning a scoff from you.

“Bold of you to assume you're my favourite Sano, Shin.”

Shinichiro dramatically pauses, letting out a huge gasp. He really looked like he was shocked by your words, but you knew that he was just feigning hurt.

“What?? How could this be? If not me, then who else would be your favourite Sano?” You shook your head in disbelief, but decided to go along with this act of his.

“Your cute and adorable siblings of course!” You replied, as you ruffled both Emma and Manjiro's hair.

“I'm cute and adorable too y'know,” Shinichiro huffs, as he crosses his arms and looked away from you.

“Says no one.” Manjiro replies cheekily before you could even open your mouth to say something. You had to hold in a laugh after seeing the look of betrayal on the older male's face as soon as his younger brother uttered those words from his mouth.

“Wha- I'll have you know that people have in fact said those words, Manjiro "Mikey" Sano.”

Shinichiro tries to back himself up, but his attempt was immediately shot down by his younger sister, who mumbles, “If people really said that, you wouldn't have gotten rejected so many times...”

You lost it at that moment, and burst out in laughter, together with Manjiro who was enjoying the whole roast.

“Seriously?? I can't believe you all are ganging up on me like this...!” Shinichiro pauses, as he let out a few dramatic fake sobs, before continuing.

“My very own siblings too... What did you do for them to favour you like this...”

“Not my fault that I'm just better.”

“Yeah! She's way kinder to us that you are, Shin!” Emma says, much to Shinichiro's disbelief.

“What?? But I'm always nice to you both too!”

“Sure you are. Besides, (y/n)-chin always buys us our favourite snacks too!! See??” Manjiro adds on, shoving the taiyaki and sweets you had given to him up Shinchiro's face. Shinichiro shoots you a glare, but you only just shrug your shoulders, insisting that it is what it is.

“Bribery at it's finest... I can't believe this..” Shinichiro lets out a dejected sigh, chuckling as he shakes his head.

“Though, it's not like I can't blame my siblings." He says, as he leans in closer to you, whispering the next few words only for you to hear.

“You're my favourite person too.”

m.list

#shinichiro sano #shinichiro sano x reader #shinichiro sano fluff #shinichiro x reader #shinichiro sano x reader fluff #shinichiro sano x you #shinichiro x you #shinichiro sano x y/n #shinichiro x y/n #shinichiro sano drabble #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers #rizzanon

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querenciasturniolo · 4 months

Text

ghost ⮕ s.t.

word count: 4.1k

warnings: depictions of death (no active murder), mentions of death, mentions of vomit, blood, suspense, anxiety, fear, swearing

summary: murders in los angeles have been happening left and right, and right as you think it couldn’t get any worse, one of your best friends is gone.

a/n: this took much longer than it should have, and for that i’m sorry, but i have a few things to say beforehand. this was inspired by multiple edits, two separate convos i had with @floofparker and @champangekisses , scream being one of my FAVORITE scary movies, and, of course, the iconic “WHO’S MOST LIKELY TO BE THE GHOSTFACE KILLERRRR” from chris. this took FOREVER, but i’m so proud of it and so excited to put it out. this is pretty reminiscent to the movie, but i added my own little spin on it. PLEASE read the bolded disclaimer and take it to heart, i don’t think anything that goes down in this fic would actually happen, hence the name fanfiction. it’s supposed to be unrealistic, that’s the point. i hope you enjoy 🫶🏻

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

Twenty year old social media star Christopher (Chris) Sturniolo was found dead outside of his Los Angeles home on September 22, 2023. His brothers, who he made comedy videos with on multiple platforms, Nicolas and Matthew Sturniolo, claim their brother had been out with long-time friend and fellow content creator, Y/f/n Y/l/n, hours before.

Nick and Matt told police moments before they rushed out to find their brother with multiple stab wounds, they heard yelling and a struggle. When they reached Chris, the assailant was gone. Y/n hasn’t spoken about their day together prior to his death, and has refused to answer any questions asked. Her and Matt Sturniolo seem to have ended their year-long relationship shortly after this tragedy, but we all want to know why. Was there an affair? Was the guilt too much to keep the secret after Chris’ death?

On October 13, 2022, Y/n’s brother was murdered brutally, and their mother suffered a very public breakdown. The assailant in her brother’s case has yet to be found.

Chris Sturniolo’s murder was the fifth in a little less than two months. Police have yet to tell the public any of their leads in this string of serial murders, but have disclosed that they are far from closing these cases.

The article had only been out for an hour, and your Instagram and Tiktok were already being swarmed with notifications. So many, that you had to delete both apps off of your phone to keep it from crashing.

You hadn’t left your bed since that day, only to get something to eat and some water when you ran out—you couldn’t even go to the funeral. You couldn’t bring yourself to answer your phone, you couldn’t even answer the countless messages you scrolled through in the days following your best friend’s death.

Today was the day, you decided, that you were going to do something. Three weeks couldn’t have been too late to get your shit back together. You had woken up in the late afternoon and gotten into the shower, standing under the hot spray for what felt like forever and just allowing yourself to relax and release any tension in your body.

You had made a full meal for the first time since…that morning. You were nauseous the entire time you ate, but you had to do this. When your brother died, everyone told you that the best way to get through your grief was to continue your regular routine as much as possible. Filming a video was on your to do list. You weren’t going to post it, it was just for you to get back into the routine of talking to a camera.

Setting up your camera was the hardest part. You knew how to do it blindfolded by now, but the thought of doing anything like this, even if you weren’t going to post it, felt wrong, almost. It felt wrong to look into a camera and talk about that day, talk about your last day with Chris.

You sat down on your couch after pressing record and ran a hand over your face, finally looking into the lens and sighing.

“It’s been awhile.” You started, rolling your eyes at the corniness of your statement. “I don’t even know why I said that, I’m not even posting this.” You grumbled, dropping your head into your hands and carding your fingers through your hair. The burning in your throat started, and you continuously fought through the knot and forming tears.

You looked up again, hoping your eyes didn’t look as red as they felt. “I picked Chris up at ten fifteen, and we spent the entire day together. We went thrifting, as much as he complained the whole time.” You said, a ghost of a smile forming on your face as your eyes focused elsewhere.

“He, oh my God.” You said, chuckling to yourself and shaking your head. “He would throw whatever I had in my hands in the basket and ask if we were done yet, every time I picked something up. I don’t know what his problem was, considering he had gotten a few things too.” You said, sighing softly and glancing over at the camera.

“We went to lunch—that honestly sounds more fancy than it is, we stopped at In-n-Out—and we just came back to my house afterwards. We talked about…a lot of things.” You started, tears pooling in your eyes as you closed them and let yourself remember.

“We talked…we talked about life, and getting older.” You said, dropping your head back and looking up at the ceiling. “Fears, hopes and whatnot. We talked about everything.” You said, sighing softly as the remnants of Chris’ voice in your memory sang through.

“I don’t know what I want right now. I’m grateful that I’m doing so well, but in five years, where will I be?”

“It started getting late, so I took him home. He told me to come in if I wanted, but I…I was tired, I wanted to go home. He…he got out of the car, and I didn’t. I never...” You dropped your head in your hands again, your breathing labored as you fought off the guilt that had been deteriorating you for the last three weeks.

You lifted your head, about to stand and turn off your camera when your phone buzzed next to you. You sighed and flipped it over, frowning at the screen.

No Caller ID flashed before you. Usually you’d ignore the call, but something in you couldn’t resist as you slid the icon over and pressed it to your ear.

“Hello?” You asked, your voice quiet and shaky.

“It was your fault, you know.”

You’d never ended a call so fast, your phone hitting the couch as you stared down at it with wide eyes. The voice was distorted, completely unrecognizable, but familiar at the same time. This was some sick joke, it had to be. You took a deep breath and shook your head.

You stood and walked over to your camera on weak knees, stopping the recording and taking your camera off of the tripod. As you shut off the camera, your phone buzzed on the couch. A sigh left your lips as you placed the camera on the coffee table and ran your hands through your hair.

What was the worst that could happen, right? You picked up your phone, No Caller ID still flashing across the screen. You slid the icon over again and pressed your phone to your ear.

“That wasn’t very nice.”

Your entire body went on high alert. “Who is this?” You asked, your voice trembling.

“That’s not important, what’s important is I know what really happened that day.”

All of the air left your lungs as you shakily sat down on the couch. “What are you talking about?” You asked. A dark chuckle rang through the receiver, your heart pounding in your ears as you waited for an answer.

“You didn’t wait for him to get inside, did you, Sweetheart?”

A broken sob left your lips as you hung up the phone and dropped it, your whole body shaking with each shattered cry that escaped you. The guilt was too much, it was the only thing about your last day with him that you couldn’t bring yourself to even say.

You blame yourself for Chris’ death, if you had just waited a few moments for him to get in the door, none of this would have happened. It was killing you every single day, not knowing if your being there would have changed anything.

You ignored the next call, and went through your contacts. Your finger hovered over Matt’s name, your chest aching as you swiped out of his contact, clicked the one under it, and held your phone to your ear. Before Nick could even finish his greeting, you were straining to get your words out of your mouth through the knot in your throat.

“Nick, something is wrong. Please, please come over.” You whispered into the phone, trying your best to keep your voice steady as his silence on the other end made your skin crawl.

“I’ll be there soon.”

You put your phone on the couch and took your time pacing around your living room.

Nick would be here soon, there was no reason to panic. The person on the phone was nothing, no one. Your phone’s incessant buzzing pulled you out of your pacing. You were frustrated now, the guilt and pain that you’d been holding in for so long was finally out in the open and slapping you right in the face.

How did they know? You hadn’t told anyone, you couldn’t even bring yourself to say it out loud.

It didn’t matter, the person on the phone had no idea what they were talking about, which sounded about as stupid as you thought it did, but it was the only thing keeping you from pulling your hair out of your head.

You pulled your phone from the couch and answered, the buzzing driving you up the wall.

“Listen, I’ve already called the police, and they’re tracing this call right no—”

The laughter on the other end cut you off, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as that sickening, metallic voice rang through the receiver.

“Oh, Sweetheart. We both know that isn’t true. I do know, however, that your little friend and boyfriend are on their way right now. Care to explain how they’re going to help you?”

Every hair on your body stood on end, your chest aching with the intensity of each beat against your rib cage. You fish-mouthed, unable to get any words out as the voice continued.

“How are they going to stop me, hm? How are they going to keep me from gutting you the same way I did your dear old friend, Chris? Or your brother?”

You froze, your gaze stuck to the floor as each word processed in your mind. “My brother?” You whimpered, a sinister chuckle vibrated against your ear.

“You heard me, Sweetheart. He put up quite the fight, too. More of a fight than your little friend.”

“Shut up!” You screamed into the receiver, hanging up the phone and throwing it across the room. You could distinctly hear the shatter of your screen as you crumpled in on yourself.

Michael’s murder had completely destroyed you. Your entire world was uprooted, and your mom, your mom hasn’t been the same since. She spends her days sitting in a rocking chair in front of the window, rocking slowly back and forth in a daze.

You’d never shaken more in your life, your entire body twitching and fighting each movement you tried to make as you stood from the floor. You needed to get up, you couldn’t let yourself stay on the ground or you’d never move.

Before you reached your kitchen, the sound of a knock at the door had you jumping out of your skin. It took everything in you to walk to the door and peek out the peephole, ripping it open the moment you registered Nick and Matt standing on your porch.

You hadn’t said a word before they rushed in and wrapped you in the tightest hugs you’d ever experienced in your life. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you pushed the door shut and held them tightly.

“I’m so sorry.” You sobbed, both of their arms holding you as you completely crumbled. “I didn’t wait for him to get inside, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault, he’d be here right now if it wasn’t for me. I’m so fucking sorry.” You rambled. Neither of them spoke, but their shoulders shaking softly against you answered the silent question of if they were listening.

When you finally pulled away, you were still shaking like a leaf. The guilt of holding it in for so long had been washed away, but the fear of that voice on the phone was still running rampant.

“No one blames you.” Nick said, his eyes rimmed red. “We’ve never blamed you. So you don’t need to worry about that.” You glanced at Matt, who’s eyes were still on the floor before you met Nick’s eyes again. “What happened?”

You sniffed and shook your head as you wiped at your face. “Nothing, it’s fine. It isn’t important.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around your abdomen as your eyes rested on Matt’s hunched frame. Nick sighed from where he stood and ran a hand over his face.

“I’ll leave you two to talk, but then I want to know what happened.” He said before he turned and walked towards the living room.

For what felt like hours, you and Matt stood across from each other in the mudroom of your childhood home, you staring at him, and him staring at the floor. When his eyes finally met yours, it felt as though your heart shattered and mended itself all at once. You hadn’t seen him since before Chris’ death, and the only message you’d sent him since then was telling him that the two of you needed to break up.

He looked as beautiful as he always had, but he looked different. Under his eyes were dusted in a dark purple, the whites of them tinged pink, his cheeks sunken in.

“Matty,” you whispered and took a step forward. He shook his head and looked back down at the floor.

“Why?”

It took everything in you not to wrap him in your arms and never let go. You knew exactly what he was asking you, and you knew the answer. It had taken these three weeks of you doing nothing more than surviving to realize you had no other reason to break up with Matt, other than the fact that looking at him would remind you of Chris, and you couldn’t handle it. It was selfish, and you could only imagine how he felt.

“I…I don’t have a good reason.”

Matt nodded and sniffed before looking up and meeting your eyes. The blue of his iris’ was striking against the red rimming his eyes. Your own eyes were burning as his gaze scanned over your face.

“Is it true?”

You frowned, confusion clouding your mind as he sighed and shook his head.

“What the article said, about you and Chris. Is it true? Was there…did you…”

You gasped as the realization hit you of what he was asking.

“Matt, what? I would never, I could never do that to you. I didn’t look at Chris like that, you know that.” You rambled on.

Matt nodded. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, just…a moment of weakness, I didn’t mean it.” He mumbled, taking a step closer to you. “Why did you end…us? I needed you, and you just…you shut me out.”

You took a deep breath in through your nose and shook your head. “I couldn’t bear looking at you and seeing him. I know, that’s selfish, and I’m sorry.” You whispered.

“I shattered the mirror in my bathroom the other night.”

You looked up, your eyebrows furrowed as Matt held up his hands. A gasp left your lips and you reached forward, delicately taking his cut up and bruised hands in yours. Before you could ask him why, he answered the silent question brokenly.

“Every time I looked in the mirror, I saw him.” You met his eyes again, and didn’t stop yourself as you pulled him into a bone-crushing embrace.

“I’m sorry, Matty. I should have been there.” You mumbled into his shoulder, his arms tightening around your waist as he breathed you in. Neither of you said anything, just held each other for as long as the other needed.

“Um, Y/n? Did you do this on purpose?”

You pulled away from Matt and turned around, seeing Nick holding your shattered phone in his hand. You sighed and nodded, the fear you’d completely forgotten about creeping up.

“I was getting prank phone calls, it’s not that big of a deal.” You mumbled, pulling away completely and walking towards the living room.

“What kind of prank phone calls would make you shatter your phone?” Matt asked quietly, you turned to face him and shrugged your shoulders, trying desperately to hide the shaking of your hands. You didn’t want to talk about it, you couldn't talk about it. If you talked about it, that would make it real.

Before you could even sit on the couch, Nick’s phone was went off in his pocket. Your heart pounded as he pulled it out and looked down at it with a frown.

“No Caller ID?” He mumbled, your jaw dropping as he pulled it to his ear. It was a few moments of silence before he met your eyes and handed it to you. “They asked for you.”

You whimpered as you took the phone and pressed it to your ear, not saying a word as the mechanical voice spoke again.

“You really thought smashing your phone would get rid of me, Sweetheart?”

“What do you want?!” You cried, the other line buzzing in silence for only a moment before Matt stepped forward and almost snatched the phone from your hand.

“I’m upstairs, come find me.”

The line beeped right as Matt grabbed the phone and pressed it to his ear. You froze in your spot, Matt turning to face you and dropping Nick’s phone on the couch. He grabbed your shoulders and shook you once lightly.

“What did they say? Baby, breathe. What did they say?!” Matt asked, his grip on your shoulders tight as you fought off the panic.

“He’s in the house. He’s in the house.” You whispered, your eyes meeting Matt’s. Nick moved from his spot and stopped right next to Matt, his eyes wide as he scanned your face.

“Y/n, who is in the house?” He asked, his voice quiet in shock. You shook your head, nausea overtaking you as you pushed past Matt and sprinted to the kitchen. You couldn’t make it to the trash, turning and vomiting into the sink, your breaths heaving as you felt a warm hand rest on your back.

It took everything in you not to crumple to the floor as you looked up and shook your head.

“H-He told me he’s the one that killed Michael…and C-Chris.” You whispered the last word, your throat burning and your stomach lurching. Matt’s eyes widened and he shook his head.

“How long have you been getting these phone calls?” He asked, his voice shaky as Nick handed you a bottle of water.

“It’s only been the last couple of hours, I thought it was some sort of sick prank until—”

A shatter from upstairs had your entire body tensing, your breath catching in your throat. Nick’s head whipped to the stairs as Matt reached for a knife and turned away.

“What are you doing?” You asked, grabbing his arm tightly and making him face you. Nick had his phone dialed and already pressed to his ear, speaking quickly to the 9-1-1 operator.

“I’m fucking going up there.” He said, pulling his arm from your grip and continuing his way towards the stairs.

“Matt, are you stupid?” Nick asked, stepping in front of the staircase as he hung up the phone. “The police are being dispatched, don’t do anything rash.” Matt shoved past Nick and ascended the stairs, his knuckles white on the handle of the knife. Nick groaned and faced you fully. “What are we gonna do?” He asked.

“We can’t just let him go up there by himself.” You whispered, walking past Nick and slowly stepping up the stairs.

“Jesus, you guys are gonna get us killed.” Nick grumbled from behind you. You heard a shuffle in the kitchen and turned, seeing him follow you up with a knife in his hand. “What? One of us had to grab something.” He whispered. You faced forward again, listening for any bump or creak that could indicate where Matt or the man that was in your house were.

It was silent as you walked through the upstairs. Each door you passed was closed, the only sound upstairs being the sound of Nick’s and your footsteps, and the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears.

“Matt?” You called out, the back of Nick’s hand hitting your shoulder. You looked at him, bewilderment etched into your face.

“Have you never seen a scary movie? Calling out in a dark house is the number one way to fucking die.” He said through his teeth. You rolled your eyes and opened your mouth to fire back.

“Get off of me!”

You jumped, your head whipping down the hallway to see a door slam. “Matt!” You shouted, running without thinking towards the door and shoving it open. The moment you stepped into the center of the room, you knew something was wrong. The door clicked behind you, and you froze in place.

“Look what we have here.”

You turned, your eyes meeting Matt’s. His entire demeanor changed, the heartbroken boy you’d seen before was gone. In his place, stood what you could only describe as a monster. His eyes were dark, his smirk sinister, and his shoulders were square.

“Matty?” You asked, Nick coming from behind him with an almost identical smirk.

The both of them chuckled and looked between each other. Nick stepped forward, causing you to take a quick step back.

“Oh, Honey. Matty’s been gone for a while.” His hooded eyes stared you down as you fully processed what was truly happening. The both of them had tricked you.

You took in a shaky breath past the knot in your throat as you took another step back.

“You?” You exhaled, your eyes switching between them as their smirks grew impossibly wider. Matt rolled his eyes and looked over to Nick.

“Us?” He mocked, meeting your eyes and taking a step closer to you. “Yes, Baby. Us. Is that so surprising?” He teased, your eyes brimming with hot, salty tears. The cool air in the room had them burning, and your throat felt like it was on fire.

“You two were behind the murders all along?” You asked, your voice barely reaching a whisper as they moved closer to you almost strategically, boxing you in with each step they took.

Nick chuckled and nodded his head, his eyes never leaving yours as he cocked his head to the side. “She’s catching up, Matt. Yes, every single one.” He said, his voice thick with venom.

“But why?” You whimpered, your back hitting the wall. You were cornered, you couldn’t get past them no matter how hard you tried. Nick and Matt’s eyes were wicked as they watched you, Matt’s smirk growing as he glanced over at Nick.

“Hear that, Nick? She wants a motive.” He said, his eyes meeting yours again. “It isn’t enough that we just felt like it?”

“You killed Michael in cold blood, just because you felt like it?” You spat. Nick quirked an eyebrow and lightly ran the tip of his finger over the blade of the knife he was holding.

“See, now you’re getting it. Not everyone needs a motive, some people are just sick and twisted.” He pouted at the end of his sentence, anger flushing through you and coating your skin in heat.

“And Chris?” You asked. Matt chuckled and shook his head.

“You really can’t be that dense, Baby.” He said.

“Don’t fucking call me that.” You said through gritted teeth.

“It was only a distraction. We were getting sloppy, and what’s better to get the cops off of our case than getting rid of one of us?” Nick interrupted. You shook your head.

“Murder isn’t a distraction, you sick fucks.” You spat, looking around the room for any escape.

Matt chuckled, and flipped the blade in his hand. “Oh, Baby. You really aren’t understanding, are you?”

Before you could spit in his face, the door behind them was pushed open, your eyes shifting to the shadowed figure walking into the room. Your heart pounded in your chest as realization slowly set in, a broken cry leaving your lips as you shook your head.

“No.” You whispered.

The white mask on his face would have been comical if every hair on your body wasn’t standing on end. You watched each movement closely, your knees buckling as you slid to the floor. The wood was ice cold as the man crouched down in front of you. He pulled the mask from his face, your choked sob being caught in your throat as you shook your head and looked down at the floor.

His warm finger rested on your chin and he lifted it up until your eyes met his, a broken whimper leaving your lips as you met the familiar blue eyes you’d looked into a million times before.

“What’s the matter, Sweetheart?” Chris said, his voice gravelly and rough as it left his smirking lips. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

tags: @lvrsparadise , @ssturniolo , @floofparker , @cat-loves-music , @geniejunn , @its-jennarose , @dwntwn-strnlo , @20nugs , @hiraethlimerence , @lavieenvalentina , @strniolo , @toyourloves , @jellybeanbby , @thetriplets3 , @mxriverse , @stvrni0lo , @gabbylovesreading , @tylerscreat0r , @angelcake-222 , @obsessivencrazy , @lollibumblebee , @stargirlv0id , @idontexistman , @emssturniolo , @soursturniolo , @bernardenjoyer , @mxqdii , @leah-loves-lilies , @mattsnutsack , @lovelysturniolo

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #scream #scream inspired #sturniolo #querenciasturniolo #nick sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo imagine #ghostface

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fltwoodsmonster · 2 years

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hey hold on a sec

I just realized both op and the commenter are insane trad christains so im deleting my reblog (because im not platforming their shit -- this is ALSO why im censoring their URLs I’m not going to give them traffic) and instead reposing it with the following links/information:

1) The WHO still actively hosts a guide on how to create safe milk substitutes when access to breastmilk/milk substitutes are unavailable on the Institutional Repository for Information Sharing (iris). The guide is called “Infant Feeding in Emergencies: A Guide for Mothers”. Relevant information starts on page 38.

2) Here is a link to the archived guide WITH THE CAUTION that I was not able to find out why its no longer provided by the WHO or iris. It could be that the information is out of date. I am only sharing it because I think the visuals may be helpful for people who have trouble reading written directions. Consult the above link first, then refer to this guide only if you need clarification on how to perform certain actions. Link to archive.

3) The language in that second comment throws up so may red flags. I cropped it to only the information needed to understand the context of this post because I find it immensely suspect. The repeated allusions to 2020 for no apparent reason (but I can guess why, as an infection disease scientist) come across as loaded or dog-whistely. I would advise against sharing the OP for that reason. But because the information being provided is important and not well known, I’m making this alternative post for people to reblog.

4) The implication that the WHO is censoring information based on a 404 page is a really flimsy and extreme conclusion to jump to. The “Infant Feeding in Emergencies” guide I linked above also goes to a 404 page on the WHO’s main website - but again, can be accessed through iris instead. So no, the information on how to feed infants in a food crisis is not being censored by the WHO.

5) A more likely cause for the guide disappearing is that the link broke and they didn’t fix it. If you look at the original URL it indicates the guide was posted in a subcategory on the WHO’s website about International Crises, specifically in the Middle East. If you try to type in a shortened versions of that URL (specifically https://www.who.int/hac/crises/ or the slightly modified http://www.who.int/hac/crises/en/) you’ll see that the subdomain that was present with relevant info breaks around 2020. In fact, while testing this hypothesis, I came across this information page in a November 2021 version of the URL https://www.who.int/home/cms-decommissioning (which I was redirected to automatically from http://www.who.int/hac/crises/en/):

There is no nefarious conspiracy theory. The link simply broke - as many many many many links do on the internet. The second commenters reply is proven bunk by a little bit of fact checking.

sorry for the long post, but I think the information on infant nutrition substitutes is genuinely useful, lifesaving info -- but i’m not going to give more people with dangerous ideological views spouting nonsense a platform.

update (5/20/22):

I had hope this was a given, but I want to be explicitly clear.

Using an at-home formula substitute should be a last resort. Contact your infant’s physician or a pediatrician before attempting to make your own milk substitute.

I am also going to leave a link to the Academy of Breastfeeding Medicine’s statement on breast milk substitute shortages.

Do not blindly follow internet posts in regards to the health of yourself or your children. I wanted to share this post simply because I, myself, did not even know it was possible to make milk substitutes and thought it was useful to be aware of in an time when access to substitutes is unprecedentedly difficult.

#breast milk #mothers #mom #infant care #baby #formula #<-- sorry for the weird tags but i want to make sure this is accessible to ppl who would benefit most #pls share this instead of the other post btw #if you want the URLs i censored to block them just shoot me an ask

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the-s1lly-corner · 11 months

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How they react to you telling them you're pregnant

Obligatory reader is afab but like most of my posts they're gn/gendered pronouns aren't used

Slenderman;

Cue the confusion

Pregnant?

Surprised more than anything, he didnt think that he could get you pregnant considering you're both different species

And also he didnt think he was fertile; at least not in the normal sexual reproduction way

Kinda just

Accepts it

Now do I think he would be a good dad?

Maybe? He wouldn't be horrible or absent, but some human things are still foreign to him, including raising a child.. so hes probably going to need a decent amount of guidance

I feel like he'd also be a helicopter parent? He already watches you like a hawk, he'd probably start doing the same with his kid as they get older

"Hey (kid name) who's that tall white boy following you??" "Oh that's my dad"/j

Becomes more protective of you during the pregnancy and the weeks after

Takes it in stride tbh

Splendorman;

Pause

Before you start to worry he scoops you up

Also thought it wasnt possible, but is hyped when he finds out the news

He WILL pamper you... may also dip into overbearing territory, though

He just doesnt want you or the baby to get hurt

He says goodnight to the bump later on in the pregnancy tbh

Oh you know hes gonna be decorating their room and giving them loads of toys

Would be a good father but may dip into unhealthy habits

This dude struggles with toxic positivity imo, so that's definitely something that's gonna need to be addressed

Laughing Jack;

Okay obviously ALL of them are probably going to be sat down and told the news, but Jack is gonna need the most talking to given that he probably doesn't grasp the gravity of it

He KNOWS what pregnancy is, he KNOWS what a baby is; but he doesn't know the intricacies of pregnancy if that makes sense

Like he doesnt know about the soreness, or cravings, or how fragile those tiny human beings actually are. Dude already struggles with being gentle with adults

So it's going to require a long and in depth talk about everything that's going to happen if you guys decide to keep the kid

Reaction wise, he takes it seriously. Kind of uncanny compared to his usual silly demeanor

Again, due to him being a lil dumb hes almost under reacting

As a parent I think...

Okay he'd probably kinda suck

He would love the kid but he would be so so so irresponsible I'm so sorry

Gives the kid candy for meals (bro cant cook)

Get that man into some parenting classes PLEASE

Eyeless Jack;

Another "I'm surprised because I deadass thought I was infertile" one, given my whole lore/Hc for EJ

The most worried out of them all

"What if they're like me and are cursed? What if they hate me? What if they grow to hate me? What if-"

He baby proofs his cabin... before insisting that the baby stays at your place primarily (if you haven't moved in with him) because he's scared of his whole... eating people thing

Please give him loads and loads of reassurance, hes gonna need it

He'll work hard to be the best father he can be, though!

He takes the kid out for walks in the woods, teaches them different plants and bugs and tells them which are dangerous

"Oh I don't want to hold them, what if I hurt em?" *falls asleep while holding his baby after reading them a story*

Masky;

You gotta baby proof him and the house im sorry, hes feral

Another "you're gonna have to sit him down and lay down the rules" type deal

Hes already mellowed out around you but he needs to mellow out a touch more for an infant

Hard to gauge his reaction but he seems.... excited? Hard to tell when hes sitting still and wearing a mask

When the baby comes he, like slenderman, also watches them like a hawk

You will walk in on him sitting over their crib at 3am/hj

Surprisingly gentle when it comes to handling the kid, just casually walks around with them and shit

Great for looking after the kid during the night while you rest

Hoodie;

V similar to Masky but he's already naturally calm

Putting this here now before I forget but he would take his mask off to make faces at the baby to try to make them laugh

Mf doesn't take his mask off for you though ☝️🙄/hj

Surprisingly good at calming down screaming infants for some reason

Similar reaction as Masky; hard to read but way easy to guess its positive since he lightly boinks where his mouth would be under his mask to your cheek while papping your stomach

Hes a lil silly

But hes got the spirit

Good dad, me thinks

#creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #slenderman x reader #splendorman x reader #laughing jack x reader #eyeless jack x reader #masky x reader #hoodie x reader

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topherwrites · 1 month

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FIC RECS: TOP GUN: MAVERICK - 2!

Okay, so there was shit I forgot in my year in review rec list. I posted it and a minimum of about 10 other fics immediately came to mind. so, part 2! I also didn't put many WIPs on the first one, but I think currently in progress fics should get some love too. I'll be marking them with an asterisk.

If I made a little comment about every single fic or series here, it would be inhumanely long, so I've refrained from doing so and have just put the summaries for each.

I hope that anyone who reads this list finds something that they love on it just as much as I do! Happy reading!

P.S. If I missed anyone, I'm sorry, there was a lot to sort through!

(P.S.S. reblog the fics you like, it makes writers happy.)

part 1, if you missed it.

SOME OF THESE ARE 18+, PLEASE HEED THE INDIVIDUAL WARNINGS!

JAKE SERESIN

Parking Lots and Matcha Lattes by @withahappyrefrain

In an attempt to get coffee, you meet a grade A asshole whose head you want to rip off. Meanwhile, Jake Seresin is pretty certain he just met his future wife in the parking lot of a coffee shop. AKA Jake Seresin likes mean women, pass it on.

The Hangman Special by @hangmanssunnies

On a night out with your friends at a fancy cocktail bar, you are just trying to keep your head down and ignore the girl that your ex cheated on you with. The night only seems like it's going to get worse when you are dared to kiss a stranger at the bar. However, it seems like the odds might finally be in your favor when you notice a familiar set of broad shoulders. If you can be convincing, you think you might just be able to get your brother's friend Jake "Hangman" Seresin to help you out with your little problem.

*she is both hellfire and holy water by @chemistryread

you should take it as a compliment, that I'm talking to everyone here but you.

Birds Away by @wombtotombx

You’d known Jake since you were kids, bonding over the shared experience of being military brats overseas. You were the perfect pair - he was reckless, you followed the rules; he didn’t care what others thought, you were a people-pleaser. You both became the best of the best in your field - he through sheer talent and skill, you from demonstrated grit and determination. For over two decades, everyone around you - parents, friends, even teachers - had assumed you’d both end up together, despite the fact that somehow, you never did. The Navy always had its way of keeping you two apart. Whatever possibilities there might have been, it was just never in the cards. Until you got to Fallon.

*The Backup by @ereardon

No strings attached sex never works, right? You and Jake Seresin have fallen into a bad pattern of seeking each other out for sex after dates go awry, but a year of being friends with benefits with Jake hasn’t been good for your dating life. Especially when the two of you are hiding your antics from your lifelong best friend Coyote and the rest of your tightly knit friend group. But what happens when you decide to take a step back and end the cycle with Jake to focus on your dating life? And why is it that all of the sudden Jake looks more irresistible than ever when you know he’s off limits?

Take Care of Business by @honkytonk-hangman

The last time you met Lieutenant Jake Seresin, the war was still ongoing and you’d been in a floundering engagement. Back then you’d seen the possibility for more in his eyes, and now? Well, now you could explore it.

When Jake Met Polly by @/honkytonk-hangman

Jake likes to flirt with his Air Traffic Controller or Jake Seresin has never seen When Harry Met Sally.

How It's Done (Oneshot Version) by @/honkytonk-hangman

“Like me? I didn’t even think you wanted me as a squadmate, let alone–” you stop speaking, but only because Hangman cuts his eyes sharply away from you to glare out at the ocean. “Well, I do.” He says kind of indignantly, all things considered, and eyes you almost sourly. “You can just say no if you don’t–” “–No, I do!” you quickly cut him off, because at the end of it all, you’re a little too much of a hopeless romantic to let this moment pass you by.

Twenty-Five Going on Forty-Seven by @sehnsuchts-trunken

Flirting with the guy who fixed your car turns out to lead to much, much more when you find out he’s actually not just some random guy, but your new neighbour and father’s new best friend, Jake Seresin.

BRADLEY BRADSHAW

*fever pitch by @greenorangevioletgrass

Arsenal and USMNT captain Bradley Bradshaw attends the mononymous music sensation Y/N's concert with a friendship bracelet and a dream. Little did he know that they soon embark on an epic love story fit for pop royalty...

This Love Came Back to Me by @beyondthesefourwalls

You and Bradley hadn’t ended on bad terms; really, you stopped before the two of you could even truly begin. Still, in the last seven months, you had never completely left his mind. So when you suddenly appeared in front of him at the bar, asking for a favor and pulling him into a kiss, he thought maybe it was the perfect opportunity to see if this time, things could be different. But what neither of you realized was that there’s more going on than just rekindling a lost romance, and it might not be as easy as simply just wanting it.

I Like Your Cinema by @sometimesanalice

Bradley wasn’t sure why you wanted to see the movie again, especially when neither one of you had particularly liked it the first time you’d seen it together. But when you’re tugging down his zipper, things start to make a lot more sense.

‘cause no one breaks my heart like you by @heartsofminds

“Last times always make him uneasy. He thinks that he should be used to it by now from his track record of being abandoned (willfully or “out of their control” situations alike). None of this should hurt him as deeply anymore.” or Bradley Bradshaw is terrified of commitment and he decides to stop being selfish (even though it’s hard to see).

the periphery by @youvebeenlivingfictional

You’d met Bradley a few times before the happy couple had announced their nuptials, and you’d always gotten a pretty good vibe from him. He was sweet, he was easy to talk to—and it helped that he was easy on the eyes. In fact, as soon as you’d been told that Bradley Bradshaw was going to be the Best Man, you were well on your way to having a crush on the guy.

*Hotter Than Texas by @tongue-like-a-razor

Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin’s baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley’s dream girl worst nightmare.

*flight risk by @ofstoriesandstardust

In which you and Rooster got married while at UVA for the military benefits. What started out as a mutually beneficial deal between friends years ago turns into a point of interest for Maverick, causing Rooster to have to haul you out to Fightertown to get him to shut up. While Maverick’s fussing over a marriage he didn’t know existed, Rooster’s focused on getting the ball rolling on divorce papers because really, the Navy does not need to be calling some poor girl from his college that he’s died in a horrendous accident. It’s proving to be more difficult than he expected, especially when Hangman and Phoenix take it upon themselves to encourage a friendship to become more.

How You Play the Game by @roosterforme

Bradley always loved October because of the World Series. He never expected a mix-up with the ticket he won to bring something as spectacular as you into his life. But time is fleeting, and now baseball is the last thing on his mind.

*The Intern by @/roosterforme

You barely have a minute to yourself after graduating at the top of your Ivy League class before your father insists you find an internship. Your days of lounging by the pool and partying are numbered as he has an endless parade of his colleagues visiting the house. But one of them is familiar to you in a way that warms your skin just like the San Diego sun. And it turns out, Bradley Bradshaw may just have the answers to all your problems. And those answers might be waiting for you on a yacht in the Mediterranean Sea.

there was something 'bout you by @bussyslayer333

bradley bradshaw didn’t fall in love, especially not with uptight girls in his english lit class and especially not the ones being forced into tutoring him.

*Ultraviolence by @babyonboard

You and Bradley loved each other, and Jake was just your old friend from high school who you tried to pay no mind to. At least that's how it used to be.

All Too Well by @bradleyfuckingbradshaw

You’re at dinner with your boyfriend and some of his colleagues at a restaurant he chose when you look over the menu and realize there’s no vegetarian option, but he’s too busy with his friends to realize that. Bradley isn’t.

October 3rd Promptober by @familyvideostevie

you go to a tailgate with your friend bradley.

If You Met Me First by @tip-top-cloud-surfer

Rooster confessed to Echo that he was in love with her before the mission. One minor problem: she has a boyfriend.

Home for the Holidays by @mothdruid

Bradley might have lied about having a girlfriend. His best friend, you, decide to help him out and go home for the holidays with him. As the trip unfolds, so does your and Bradley’s feelings for one another.

BOB FLOYD

*I bet this would look beautiful on film by @coridotmp3

Honey desperately needs a photographer, and Bob desperately needs a break.

Robert from Next Door by @attapullman

You've lucked out with the perfect neighbor, a kind and overly helpful WSO. He puts up Christmas lights, lends his lawn mower, and grabs your morning paper. But what happens when he's out of peppermint tea one night?

If Only the Neighbors Knew by @/attapullman

A month of stolen kisses culminates in Robert hosting the HOA meeting and getting you on his couch. The ladies of the neighborhood may make him blush, but only you can make your sweet neighbor weak in the knees.

*Golden Hour by @/ereardon

Willow, Georgia. Barely even a town, just a speck on a map that you tried to wipe off, mistaking it for a crumb. You’re the outsider: a fancy New York doctor, fresh out of a failed engagement, with zero primary care experience. You’re also the new town doctor, taking over for a recent retiree who was beloved. His son, Bob Floyd, is the other physician at the practice, and takes an immediate dislike to you. But you were looking for a fresh start, and Willow doesn’t seem all that bad if you can get past the fact that there's only one restaurant in town. It helps that you've caught the eye of Bradley Bradshaw, the town attorney, despite the fact that you vowed to take a break from dating. How long until you start to make friends in a town where social circles have been set in stone since elementary school? And what will it take to make Bob Floyd see you’re not as bad as he wants to believe you are?

Ruin the Friendship by @withahappyrefrain

The night before Bob leaves for Boot Camp, he’s learned no one has gone down on his best friend. He’s determined to fix that.

International Bob Floyd Fucks Month Masterlist

a january writing event hosted by @/attapullman

Bob from Stats by @/attapullman

College is a wild time, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the quiet guy from Stats riding around campus as a cowboy. Or what a good kisser he is.

#jake seresin x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bob floyd x reader #jake seresin #bradley bradshaw #bob floyd #tgm fanfiction #fic rec #fic rec list #queue

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jo-writes-fanfic · 2 months

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Love & Mischief

Loki x Female!Reader

Rating: M (Mature)

Warnings: There's nothing explicit, some allusions to sex, probably language, violence, and heavy descriptions of grief and loss, although there is somewhat of a happy ending.

Word count: About 2.9k

Synopsis: You're Asgard's goddess of love and loyalty, but you've lost your god of mischief, how do you move forward?

Author’s note: This is set in Thor Love and Thunder. Also if you've ever seen the last scene of the show Reign, it has an inspiration in this fic too. I've had a lot of grief and loss in my life lately and this felt very therapeutic to write. I've tried writing for Loki a couple of times but always chickened out, so I really hope y'all enjoy this and hopefully there will be more to come!

I am no longer using a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on!

“And what are you the goddess of?”

The words resounded in your head again and again and again.

When Hela said those words to you, years ago, you had fired back, so sure of yourself and your role in Asgard, your role in your life, your role in his life.

But now…

What was a goddess of loyalty and love who no longer had love? Who no longer believed in such things as fate and security in love?

Your powers should have died when he did.

It was an odd pairing to many, you knew. But it worked perfectly, your strengths and weaknesses worked in tandem and created a love worth fighting for.

But the fight was gone.

The god of mischief (and betrayal- some would argue) and the goddess of loyalty and love were a match made in Valhalla.

Until he was gone, ripped from you so violently that you still woke up screaming from nightmares regularly.

You sat next to your king in New Asgard during another security council meeting.

You were completely zoned out, thinking of bright blue-green eyes, dark curls, and a blade-thin smile. Valkyrie nudged you. “Hey, tone it down, you're bumming out the whole room,” she whispered.

You sighed and blinked out of your reverie, and finally noticed that the mood of the room, despite the recent good news that had been received (you can’t remember what it was - honestly, you forgot to pay attention, these meetings were very dull and tended to drone on) was altogether glum.

“Sorry,” you whispered back and reigned your mood in.

Normally, your powers were extremely helpful; tightening the bonds of loyalty in those around you, increasing love in both romantic and familial bonds, reading others moods - often influencing them, and sometimes even manipulating loyalties. But currently, drowning in grief as you had been the past several years, your powers were more of a burden than anything.

The heaviness in the room instantly lightened, and the conversation flowed in a more productive direction once more.

“We need to talk about these moods of yours,” Val said once she was satisfied that the meeting was going better.

“No thanks,” you grumbled, and promptly zoned out once more. You really preferred it when Thor was also a mess, before he got his shit together, and you weren’t the only one that hadn’t moved on from the repercussions of the war with Thanos. But you know what they say, misery loves company. And back then, no one nagged you as much to get your shit together.

“A little help here?” the king asked you, irritation in her tone.

Another disagreement had broken out, this time a fist fight. Honestly, you found it amusing and were inclined to let it go on for a while, but when Val glared at you, you stood up and clapped once.

Everyone stopped their movements immediately and looked up at you.

“Enough,” you said sternly. “Asgard, though we may have differing opinions, we all fight for the same thing, the prospering of New Asgard. Remember that,” you ordered, infusing the room with compliance, reminding them of their bonds of loyalty.

Everyone looked sheepish and sat back down.

You flourished a hand to Val and said, “My king,” giving her the floor.

She gave them all a rousing speech, it was honestly quite good, some of her best work, and then ended the dreadful meeting early, much to your relief.

“Good job, boss. Well, I’m off-”

“Not so fast,” she said as she caught your arm.

You sighed once again.

“Do we need to talk about this? About Lo-”

“Don’t say his name,” you hissed and the tension in the room raised significantly as your anger and grief filled the space, making the large room feel claustrophobic.

She sighed and took your hand.

“Look, I can’t pretend to know what you’re going through and what you’ve lost. We can all feel it from time to time and I know it’s an incredibly heavy burden. I’m just concerned for you and want to help you,” she said.

With tears in your eyes, you nodded.

“I’m concerned about me too,” you mumbled.

“What can I do to help? Tell me. Anything,” she practically begged.

“Nothing, unless you can drag him back from Valhalla,” you muttered and brushed past her.

And life continued to trudge forward. As a goddess, never had such a short amount of years felt so long, an eternity really.

You felt as if you were stuck in a time loop and every day was close to the same.

You woke up and for a split second forgot he was gone and reached across your bed to find it cold. Then, a wave of grief hit you that was so heavy, each and every time, that you forgot how to breathe.

Eventually you forced yourself out of bed, shoved some food in your mouth as you rushed out the door and met Valkyrie for early morning training. Then you usually sat by the sea and stared as the sun rose in the sky, thinking of him but trying so hard not to. And again, you forced yourself on.

You completed your daily tasks as the King’s right hand goddess; meetings, meetings, and more meetings usually. Most nights you sat at the bar, watched Valkyrie drink an ungodly amount, then when you got bored enough you walked through New Asgard.

You walked and walked, thinking if you moved enough, if you stayed ahead of your sadness, maybe it wouldn’t catch you in the morning.

It always did.

Rinse and repeat.

There were differences of course, sometimes, you had to leave New Asgard to do the whole ambassador thing. Occasionally Thor came to visit and brought along his various cohorts and problems.

Today was one of those days. You were improving in your hand to hand combat skills, according to your King, through your daily rigorous training sessions, which pleased you since you spent most days feeling like you wanted to fight the whole nine realms. And then, following your routine, you sat on the cliffside and stared at the sea.

You never even got to give him a proper funeral, you thought, which then made you think of Frigga and the beautiful funeral service for her that you had watched through tears.

A voice called your name, you looked back and for a moment, a blink and you miss it moment, you saw him. A flash of green-blue eyes and inky black hair, your heart skipped a beat and the vision was gone.

You shook your head in an attempt to clear it, honestly these flashes of him you’ve been having lately should be concerning, but instead you clung to them, desperate for any connection to him that you could get.

Although the true sight before you was one that made you smile, as Thor came up and wrapped you in a bear hug.

You wheezed and when he finally put you down he chuckled heartily.

“How are you?” he asked and you gave him a look like he should know the answer to that question.

“Well I have something that should cheer you right up,” he said as he steered you back towards the town.

“Does it involve needing my help to fight another dangerous life-threatening bad guy?” you asked wryly.

“Perhaps….” he said.

You huffed a laugh and said, “I’m in.”

The threat you were fighting turned out to be a whole lot more dangerous and life-threatening than you anticipated.

Which is how you found yourself on a ship with Thor, Jane, Valkyrie, and Korg on an unfortunate adventure to confront the God Butcher.

Watching Thor and Jane fall back in love was not doing much for your mood. Val handed you another drink and you downed it.

“Hey, hey, you’re totally bringing down the vibe, mate. This is supposed to be about love,” Korg said to you. You huffed and rolled your eyes.

You made an effort to lessen the dark cloud you’d brought on the ship.

“Do you think you’ll ever find love again?” Val asked you, after she confessed that she’d avoided any serious relationships for decades.

“No,” you said, like it was final.

“Really?” Korg asked. “Shouldn’t the goddess of love fall in love easily?”

You shot him a glare.

“I love. I love a great many people. But true love, like soulmates and shit, that only comes once in a lifetime. And after you’ve had it, you’re pretty much ruined for anything less. So no, I don’t think I’ll ever truly find love again,” you said with a sigh.

“Heavy,” he replied and you cracked up.

You laughed so hard you snorted, and at first your friends looked at you in shock, then joined you in laughter, and the room filled with love once again, the love of friendship, and you realized you’ve been overlooking the amount of love you actually had in your life due to your grief.

You grabbed Val’s hand and patted Korg’s disembodied head, and watched Thor and Jane reignite their flame of love.

“I love you all and am grateful for all the support you’ve given me,” you said.

“No final confessions,” Valkyrie said, “this is not the end for any of us.”

You nodded and then the ship reached its destination. The shadow realm yawned open in front of your vision and you gulped.

You had this horrible feeling, like dread, in the pit of your stomach, and you saw him again. That flash you’ve seen so many times recently, but more and more frequently since this misadventure started and that dread molted in your stomach into resolve.

You were certain and you were ready.

Of course the plan went immediately sideways. You crossed swords with Gorr the God Butcher and your heart threatened to pound out of your chest.

Yes, your sword fighting skills had improved, but not enough to be a good match for a seasoned warrior and god killer.

“What are you the Goddess of? Are you even worth my sword?” he growled out.

You gritted your teeth and went on the attack. Your rage filled the space as you dodged, slashed, and pushed him as hard as you could.

You could hear your friends yelling, but you couldn’t lose your focus even for a moment as he pushed back and fought with skill beyond your own.

And you realized you’d been doing this all wrong. You were fighting without your biggest asset, your own natural gifts and abilities. The powers that made you a goddess of Asgard.

He didn’t notice your impact on his mood because your rage didn’t even touch the deep well of his own, he didn’t feel your rage due to the mountain that was his own.

No, rage wouldn’t work, you thought, and as your swords crossed again you used your other hand to grab his.

Your power was more potent when you were skin to skin.

You poured love and loyalty into your enemy, thinking only of happiness and good memories, trying to lessen his rage. Trying to decrease his fight, hoping to convince him to put down his sword.

Your breath caught into a gasp as his emotions infected your own. His love and loyalty were intertwined with an ocean of grief. Just like your own.

And you were drowning.

His emotions, his rage at the injustice and unfairness and unending sadness felt so close to your own emotions that you were thrown back into a memory.

Your worst memory, actually, the day you lost him for good. And you knew your enemy was in his worst memory as well. The origin of his grief.

Just like you watched the origin of your grief as it unfolded in front of you once more. The reason for your nightmares, the reason you woke up screaming, you stepped back and gasped as the memory overcame you.

And Gorr did the same.

You think the sound might be the worst part. Loki’s choking. Or maybe it was the snapping sound, like a branch, a snap that ended everything for him. And for you.

And then there’s the sight. You couldn’t even describe it, it was too awful to explain. You’ve never spoken about it, even in the therapy sessions your King forced you to attend.

He thudded to the ground and you gasped as the vision cleared.

You were drowning in your own grief and it was clear Gorr was more accustomed to drowning than you.

He recovered one second quicker, and your battlefield reflexes were not quite up to par.

You slashed your sword up but all it did was clang against his where it was embedded in your stomach.

All the air whooshed from your lungs.

“You are not a god that deserves death, are you?” he said as he cocked his head. “But you lost faith in yourself, in what you stand for.”

You weren’t even sure you felt the pain. Maybe the shock inhibited your ability to feel any pain. You’d been injured before, sure, but you always felt the sharpness of it. But of course you’ve never been hurt this severely.

You tried to speak, but it came out as a groan.

“I am sorry,” he said and slowly slid the sword from your abdomen and you fell to your knees. Blood gushed and you saw that flash again.

“Beautiful,” you mumbled as you saw the flash of a wry smirk, eyes full of love, and a hand outstretched towards you. Beckoning you.

Finally, you thought.

The last thing you heard was Thor roaring and your king calling your name as she caught you before your body hit the ground.

There was darkness, utter darkness, and then a solid weight beneath you.

You realized you were laying down. You were laying on the most comfortable bed you’d ever had the pleasure of sleeping on.

Sleeping? Are you sleeping? Wasn’t there something…something painful? You couldn’t remember.

You blinked your eyes open and let out all the air in your lungs.

Your eyes filled with tears, this time happy tears. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you cried happy tears.

Loki laid beside you, close enough for you to touch, staring at you with such love in his eyes that tears spilled down your cheeks.

“Oh,” you gasped.

He reached out and cupped your cheek, wiping the tears away.

You sobbed, and he shushed you even as he pulled you closer. You buried your face in his bare chest and he crushed you against him, so tight, tight enough that you were sure he would never let you go again.

He ran his hand up and down your back, and with a start you realized you were void of clothes as well.

You awoke in the afterlife just as you would have every day of the best years of your life with him; naked in his bed after a night of making love with adoration in his eyes as he watched you sleep.

You took a shuddering breath and pulled back to look at him in the eyes once more, your hands never leaving his body, you ran them up his chest, across his face, twirled your fingers in his hair.

“This is Valhalla, isn’t it?” you asked.

“Yes, my love,” he said, and kissed the fresh tears on your cheeks away.

Then he kissed your lips. It was a delicate thing at first, but then it molted and grew until it felt exactly like it used to. The kiss cemented you to him, secured you right where you should be, where he had been waiting for you.

And all of the pain you experienced before that kiss didn’t even matter anymore. Because you loved him and he loved you, and that’s all.

His lips moved against yours and your tears mixed with his and it was perfect. You loved him, that’s all.

You weren’t angry at him for dying and leaving you alone. You weren’t drowning in heavy emotions anymore. You held no grudges or hard feelings over anyone or anything anymore, not now that you were in the arms of your greatest love once more.

“It’s been so long,” you gasped out when he pulled back and smiled.

“I know,” he said with a small smile.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“I am as well,” he replied, simply and sweetly.

You felt light as a feather. You felt released from your pain and anguish. You were with him again, and that’s all that mattered.

“Isn’t the introduction to Valhalla traditionally supposed to be much different?” you asked.

He smirked and mischief twinkled in his eyes, “It is possible I managed to bend some rules for you.”

You huffed a laugh and pulled him into another kiss. One that could’ve lasted seconds or could’ve lasted a lifetime. It didn’t really matter. You had eternity in the hall of warriors with your Loki, and you were secure knowing you died fighting for the ones you loved.

“Would you like me to give you the grand tour?” he whispered in your ear as he pulled back from your lips and began kissing his way across your skin.

“Maybe later,” you said as you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him atop of you.

“We have an eternity,” he promised and kissed you, slow and deep.

Tagging those who showed interest in this fic (thanks for the support!) : @thespiralstaircasewriter @bellaisasleep @elly-hiddlesherloki @izhunny @drachenkinder @spacefloosie

#loki #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson #loki laufesyon x reader #loki imagine #loki odinson #loki friggason #loki angst

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from-the-clouds · 1 year

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texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. 1

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist |

summary: When you let your new neighbor’s daughter inside to call her father from your landline, you never expect to be dealing with the fallout twenty years later. Series will take place before and after the outbreak, and is partially inspired by this request. Slow-burn(ish), eventual smut. pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 6.4k chapter warnings: mentions of/encounters with a drunk person, references to absent parents, i imply that both reader (and joel) like pineapple on pizza. a/n: i need to get my shit together and make a proper masterlist/post for this series but i'm absolute garbage with photoshop/making collages so that is a project for another day!! for now, i wanted to get this first part out to ya'll. i watched a playthrough of the game too so ill be including some references to that throughout the series. this will be some hallmark-movie ass romance so strap in!! this chapter was super fun to write and i loved writing for reader and sarah, give it a read and let me know what you think!

-March 7, 2003-

“Excuse me? Ma’am? Excuse me?”

The voice behind you is so timid you don’t hear it right away, especially not when your phone is pressed to your ear with your shoulder as you sort through the mail, your coworker droning on and on…

“Ma’am?”

It’s a little more forceful this time, a little closer too, and that’s when it finally gets your attention. Turning around on your heel, you find a young girl standing behind you, one hand hooked in the strap of her backpack that hangs off of one thin shoulder, the other worrying about the butterfly pendant of the necklace she’s wearing.

You recognize her immediately as one of your neighbors, the girl from across the street whose name you didn’t know yet, because you only moved in about two months ago. You’d met the man who you assumed was her father – Joe? Or was it Joel?, you couldn’t remember – the first day you’d moved in, but there had been so much going on that you were too flustered to be engaged.

It’s a Friday, but apparently that doesn’t keep you safe from work calls after you leave the office, because you’re getting an earful of a whole lot of hot air, so much so that you’re probably unintentionally frowning at the girl in front of you while you try to follow the conversation.

“....I think you’re right, but they’re not going to budge unless we sweeten the deal somehow-”

“Can I call you back?” you blurt, ultimately thankful for the interruption. You don’t even wait for his response before you click off your blackberry, sighing, looking up. “Hi, yeah, sorry. Can I help you?”

“Uhm, I’m Sarah…..Miller….I live across the street?” her voice goes up slightly at the end of the sentence, like she’s unsure, even as she points to the home behind her, a two-story place that’s considerably bigger than your own, but maybe a little older. “I uhm…I locked myself out and I was wondering if I could use your phone…to call my dad at work? Please?”

“Oh, yeah,” you say. “That’s fine. Just uh..follow me I guess.”

Tucking the stack of mail in your hand under your arm, you wave her after you, your kitten heels clicking on the hard pavement of your driveway.

“Be careful here,” you warn her as you step over the middle step to your front porch that has rotted, and gives easily under any amount of weight. You’d learned about it the hard way, last week, and still had the bruise on your leg to show for it.

Your front door is open, and Sarah pauses to take off her shoes when you do, a pair of beat-up white Converse that have been doodled on in Sharpie.

“Here, phone’s right there,” you lead her into the kitchen and point to the landline. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Uhm, could I just get some water…please?” She stands rigidly in your kitchen, rocking back and forth on her heels.

“Of course,” you reach into the cabinet. Once the glass is filled and placed in front of her, you retreat to your front living area to give her some privacy while she makes the call, sitting on the couch and scrolling through unanswered emails on your blackberry. Sarah mumbles indiscreetly, until you hear her call out again.

“Uhm…ma’am…I’m sorry, Miss…uh-what’s your last name?”

“Oh,” you sit up, giving her your first instead.

“Okay….Uh, my dad wants to talk to you…could you-”

“Sure,” you stand, stepping back into the kitchen, and accepting the receiver from the girl.

“Hello?”

“Hey, this is Joel Miller,” you’re greeted with a low, gruff drawl. “You’re the new neighbor, I believe introduced myself a while back”

“Joel,” you repeat. It’s Joel. Joel, Joel, Joel, you force yourself to remember. Joel and Sarah Miller. “Yes, we met very briefly.”

“And it sounds like you met Sarah.”

“Yeah.”

On the other end of the line, you hear him hesitate, let out a long sigh. “Look, I hate to put you out, but she lost her key to the house, and she tells me the Adlers aren’t home. Do you think she could stay at your place until I’m able to get off work in a couple hours? I know it’s a big ask, but-”

“Of course she can,” you cut him off, peering over your shoulder at Sarah, who’s staring up at you expectantly with wide, terrified eyes.

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s no big deal.”

“She’s probably got homework so I’ll make sure she stays quiet and out of your way. I’m so sorry, she should know better than this. It’s the second time this month this has happened, I keep tellin’ her-”

“Like I said, it’s not a big deal,” you cut him off, unintentionally, before wondering if it was rude you didn’t let him finish. It’s the native New Yorker in you, always in a rush and uninterested in drawn-out excuses. It’s an unfortunate instinct you’ve been trying to train yourself out of, particularly now that you’re living in the southwest. You soften your tone. “She can stay as long as she needs to, seriously. I don’t have anything planned.”

“Okay,” the voice on the other end sounds relieved. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I should be home by nine, I’ll call if anything changes. Thanks so much.”

“Of course, we’ll be fine. See you soon.” You hang up.

Sarah is still behind you when you turn around, clutching the glass of water she’s got in both hands like a vice. “You can stay here until your dad gets home,” you tell her.

“Did….did he sound mad?”

“Maybe a little stressed,” you’re honest. “But….not mad. I also don’t know him, so…”

“I bet he’ll be mad. This is the second time I’ve locked myself out this month because I forgot my key, and I already got lectured once that last time because he had to leave work early.”

“You made a mistake, people forget things…” you shrug. “I’m sure he’ll get over it.”

Her shoulders relax slightly, and she looks around like it’s the first time she’s actually registered where she’s at. “You have a nice house. It’s cozy.”

“Thanks,” you put your hands on your hips and look around too. “I’m still settling in, so not everything’s unpacked, but I could give you a tour if you’d like?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Ma’am. That tickles you. The address is still not something you’re used to hearing, even though you’ve only been in Austin a few years. “You can just call me by my first name, you know? Ma’am makes me feel old.”

“Really?” she grins, following you down the hall. “I can’t wait to be old.”

“You’ll feel differently someday,” you answer. “But…I guess it’s not so bad.”

Compared to the house you grew up in, your new house is nothing special, but it’s yours, and you couldn’t be prouder that you’d bought it all on your own. It’s a three-bedroom ranch, and you’d converted one of the rooms into an office for yourself. There’s a kitchen, living room, and den. But your favorite part is your large, screened in back porch that overlooks your yard. Now that it’s getting closer to summer, you sit outside in the mornings with a cup of tea and read the newspaper, listen to the birds.

“Can I do my homework at your kitchen table?” Sarah asks once you’re finished showing her around.

“Make yourself comfortable wherever,” you answer. “I could probably stand to get a little work done myself.”

Sarah sits at your dining room table, spreads out her books, and works quietly while you answer some emails and look over some contracts. You’ve got a big meeting Monday with a potential client, and a giant stack of term sheets to go through, but if you could manage to get some of it done tonight it might actually help you down the line. As much as possible, you try to avoid doing too much work outside of your office’s standard hours, but sometimes, it’s inevitable.

The subject Sarah has homework in is algebra, which renders you useless. Even when you have to do any accounting at work, you’re used to having a calculator nearby. It’d been awhile since you spent time with anyone as young as she was – in sixth grade, she told you – and it was starting to serve as a confirmation of your own dysfunctional childhood, because her carefree, sweet nature was so drastically different from anything you remembered feeling.

After about an hour, Sarah slowly starts to close her notebooks, zipping her pencils back up in plastic pouches. You look up from making revisions on a contract, the smell of blue ink heavy in the air around you. “I’m done,” she announces. “Could I sit on your couch and read?”

“Of course,” you answer. “Give me five and I’ll join you.”

It doesn’t take long for you to find a good stopping point, and you pack up your messenger bag, and join Sarah in the living room. “So…I’m starting to get hungry,” you tell her. “Are you?”

Sarah nods sheepishly.

“I could order us something,” you said. “What do you like?”

You aren’t much of a chef, though you can generally figure your way out around any recipe. However, cooking for one is notoriously tedious. If you had multiple mouths to feed, maybe you’d be tempted to hone your skills in the kitchen a little more. Most nights you usually treated yourself to a depressing, hastily thrown together salad, scrambled eggs, or a PB&J. Tonight, you had actually been planning to take yourself out to dinner – there’s a cute little French bistro down the street and you were hoping to treat yourself to a cocktail and a nice meal while you read.

Sarah closes her book, contemplating. “Could we….get a pizza?”

You think about it. “Sure, yeah. Pepperoni…cheese?”

“Can we get….one of both?” she tests.

“Yeah, we can do both,” You smile. “I bet your dad will be hungry, too, he can have some if he wants.”

“Maybe…he likes pineapple on his,” Sarah wrinkles her nose.

“He has good taste. I do too.”

“Gross.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep them separate,” you call over your shoulder as you retreat to the kitchen.

Once the pizza is ordered, you return to your living room and curl up on the opposite side of the couch from Sarah, who is engrossed back in her book. “They told me about 30 minutes. What are you reading?”

“To Kill A Mockingbird,” she says, showing you the cover.

“That was one of my favorites growing up.”

“I have to read it for school…but it’s pretty good so far.”

Your phone pings with another email, and you glance at it quickly.

“Is that work?” she asks.

You nod. “Yeah. It still finds you, even when you leave.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a lawyer.”

“No way!” Sarah perks up. “Like on the tv shows? That’s so cool.”

You snort, shaking your head. “No, not exactly. I’m a corporate lawyer so it’s not as fun, actually, it’s just a lot of paperwork and meetings…”

“So…you don’t like it, then?”

“It’s….” you think about it. “....Fine.” Did you like your job? It wasn’t really something you thought about in that way, you’d always seen it as a means to an end. “I went to law school because my dad wanted me to…he wanted me to work for him someday. And…that didn’t pan out so…yeah. But you know…it pays well, and….”

“You get to wear cool outfits,” she gestures to you.

“Yeah, I guess I do. Although the heels do get a little uncomfortable.”

Sarah’s eyes shift behind you for a second to the hallway leading to your bedroom, then widen excitedly. “You have a cat?”

You turn around to see what she’s looking at, the white and gray ball of fluff that you’d found underneath a dumpster one late night in college.

“Yeah, that’s Martini.”

“Martini,” she giggles, and the cat approaches her cautiously. He’s notoriously shy and quiet, and not even particularly cuddly, but he likes to sleep at the foot of your bed and will sit next to you on the couch if you stay still for long enough.

The cat sniffs Sarah’s outstretched hand, then presses his face into Sarah’s palm so she can scratch him under his chin, his favorite spot. “He’s not usually a fan of strangers, he must like you.”

“I love animals,” she says. “My dad won’t let me get a pet because he says he’ll end up taking care of it.”

You chuckle. “Cats are pretty easy…at least, he is.”

Martini allows himself about twenty seconds worth of affection before he darts out of the room and heads to his food bowl.

“I’m gonna go change out of my work clothes, I’ll be right back,” you push yourself off the couch and walk down the hallway. Any other night and you probably would’ve been in pajamas awhile ago but that’s probably not acceptable, so you settle for jeans and a sweater, which is much more comfortable than the dress and tights you had been in before.

The pizza arrives and after you tip the driver, set it on your kitchen island and pull some plates out of your cupboard. You and Sarah are both long settled with full plates when you speak again.

“Wow….I forgot how good pizza is…” you say, staring at the half eaten piece in your hand.

“You don’t eat pizza?”

“Usually only when I’m drunk,” you say, then immediately realize you’re talking to an eleven year old. “Oops, I…probably shouldn’t be telling you that.”

She giggles. “It’s okay.”

“So, it’s just you and your dad across the street?” you ask. “Does your mom live with you?”

The second the question registers, you immediately regret asking. Sarah shrinks before you, her face dropping, shaking her head. “No I…I don’t really have a mom.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, softly. You just assumed she existed although you’d never seen her, and you feel guilty, racking your brain for something that might help make her feel better. “I understand, my mom wasn’t really around growing up.”

“She wasn’t?” Sarah asked, looking up.

You shake your head. “My parents got divorced when I was young, my dad took us, and she moved across the country, so….I didn’t see much of her.”

“My mom… she left when I was a baby.”

“I’m sorry.” You say again, staring at the girl in front of you.

For a moment, looking at her, you see yourself, and you wonder how a parent can wake up one day and choose to ignore someone that’s one half of themselves. Someone they made. If they really understood what that might do to a person’s psyche, growing up thinking that they weren’t wanted. You had always told yourself that your mother, your parents must have not understood, because if they did, and they still chose to do it…

“Are you married?” Sarah asks, and you’re snapped out of your train of thought.

Taking a bite of pizza, you shake your head no.

“So you live here alone?”

You nod, chewing.

“Do you like it?”

You nod, swallow. “It’s better than having a roommate, or living in the city.”

Standing up, you walk towards the fridge for a can of sparkling water. It hisses while you open it, and you lean over the counter while Sarah continues to drill you. “Do you ever get….scared? Like at night?”

“No….not really. I have locks. And this is a safe neighborhood. And uh, I may or may not have a nightlight still.”

Sarah giggles. “Me too.”

There’s a sturdy knock on your screen door, which you’d left open to let in the cool spring breeze, and you notice Sarah’s eyes widen. “I bet that’s my dad.”

As if he heard her, and maybe he did, the guest calls out. “It’s Joel!” It’s the same voice from over the phone, but much clearer.

“Come in,” you answer.

The screen door creaks open, the sound of boots shuffling inside. “Sarah?” It’s the same voice from the phone. Joel steps into the warm light of the kitchen.

When you first met it had been from a distance, you were carrying boxes and he was loading something into the back of his truck. It’s clear you hadn’t gotten a good enough look at him, wouldn’t have forgotten his name, because fuck, he’s kind of gorgeous…tan skin, dark wavy hair, and a sharp jawline covered in stubble. In the archway to your kitchen he looks huge, taller than you remembered.

“Hi Dad,” Sarah says. “Miss-“

You cut her off simply by saying your first name. “Nice to meet you…again.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too, and thank you so much for keeping an eye on her. We’ll get out of your ha-”

“We got you pizza,” Sarah pipes up, looking at him. You can tell that she’s trying to stall. Or at least, trying to offer him something that might soften the inevitable lecture she’s going to get. It’s a smart play, and definitely not something you would’ve been above trying at her age.

Joel looks at the three pizza boxes spread across your countertop. “You didn’t have to feed her, really, like I said, she should’ve known better,” he turns to look at her pointedly.

“I had to eat anyway. Please, help yourself. There’s a ton of leftovers,” You really did not want cold pizza in your fridge, because it’d be too tempting to eat as a late night snack or even breakfast on your way out the door in the mornings.

Reluctantly, he looks at you before taking a plate. “Thank you,” he turns to his daughter while he opens one of the boxes. “Did you get your homework done?”

Sarah nods. “And I got ahead on my reading for English.”

“That’s good.”

Joel turns back to you, settles in a chair with the plate of food in front of him at the island. You do the same. “I’m sorry I haven’t had the time to come over and properly introduce myself. Sarah too.”

You shrug. “I’m the new neighbor, that’s probably my responsibility anyways. It’s been kind of hectic settling in.”

“Where’d you move from?”

“Well, I’ve been in Austin for the past few years, but originally I’m from Manhattan.”

Joel nods. “Why Texas?”

It’s far away from my insane family, you think, and then settle on something else. “Work.”

Sarah is staring at her plate and tearing a piece of crust into tiny pieces. Joel eyes the slice of pizza he’s just taken a bite of.

“Pineapple?” he looks over at Sarah. “Are you tryin’ to bribe me so you don’t get in trouble?”

“It’s my favorite, too,” you offer, then wink at Sarah when Joel isn’t looking. She tilts her head down, her hair hiding the grin on her face from her father.

A buzzing sound cuts through the room before Joel can answer, and he digs in his pocket to fish out his cell phone. “Hold on, I gotta take this.”

When he steps out of the room, you begin to clear the empty boxes and plates off your kitchen island and bring them over to the sink. Sarah brings her plate over as well, stands next to you at the sink while you rinse them off and load them in the dishwasher.

“Thank you for dinner,” she says.

“Of course,” you answer.

“I just really hope he’s not disappointed with me.”

Placing your hand between her shoulder blades, you give her an encouraging pat. “I don’t think he is….” you hear Joel on the phone in the other room, his voice rising in volume. “....and honestly….it sounds like he might have bigger fish to fry…”

“Tommy…are you fucking kidding me? Again? How many times is this gonna happen? Okay…fine. fine. I’ll be there soon, but you can’t keep doing this shit.”

Sarah grimaces, and you both turn back to the sink sheepishly when you hear Joel’s footsteps returning. She bumps you with her elbow while you clear your throat.

You’re sure there’s still a residual smile on your face when you turn around to face Joel, who has his hands on his hips. “Alright, Sarah, we gotta get going.”

“Is everything okay with Uncle Tommy?”

“No, I’ve gotta pick him up at the police station.”

“Did he drink too much again?”

“Sarah!” Joel exclaims. “Please, it’s gettin’ late and you’ve got a soccer game tomorrow, you need to get to bed.”

You’re biting your lower lip so hard to keep from laughing you almost taste blood. It’s not funny, definitely not funny to Joel, who you can tell is having a rough night, but it’s objectively funny as an outsider, watching all their familial drama being put on blast by his daughter who doesn’t quite have a filter yet, and is first and foremost trying to protect herself from getting into trouble.

“She’s a lawyer, I bet she could help Tommy,” Sarah looks over at you. “Couldn’t you?”

Joel frowns. “That’s not how that works-”

“What’d they bring him in for?” you ask.

Joel runs a hand through his hair. “Public intoxication. Are you really a lawyer?”

“Well…I’m a corporate lawyer so that wouldn’t really be my specialty. But uh…I’ve definitely been able to talk my friends out of that kind of thing before.”

“But this is not the first time,” Joel says. “It’s probably useless.”

“Didn’t you say you can’t afford to keep-”

“Sarah, enough.” Joel’s voice is as stern as you’ve heard it, and he digs into his pocket, producing a keychain. “Go home and get ready for bed. I’ll be home in a minute.”

Sarah sighs, defeated. “Okay.”

Joel stands dead still while she shuffles to the door, cramming her feet in her shoes with her backpack slung over her shoulder.

By this point in the evening, you’d usually be curled up on your couch by the fireplace with your latest knitting project, moderately stoned, watching bad reality television and sipping sleepytime herbal tea. But your night has already gone drastically different from your expectation. Why stop now? “If you wanted…I could try to help.”

Joel shakes his head, looks at the floor. “I can’t ask that of you.”

“You didn’t ask,” you shrug. “I offered.”

He looks up, a soft smile breaks across his face, revealing a row of straight, sparkling teeth, the corners of his eyes crinkling. It’s the first sincere smile you’ve ever seen from him, and your knees feel a little weak at the sight of it. You think you might offer him anything just to see it again. “It’d be a huge favor. But….I’d appreciate it.”

“Alright well…” you look around, push yourself off the countertop. “I probably should change before we go. I don’t think I’ll be taken seriously in this.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I need to make sure Sarah gets to bed alright, how ‘bout you meet me on my porch in ten?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Thanks again,” he raps his knuckles on the counter twice before retreating, and you stay in place until you hear the screen door close behind him.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I feel like you’re meeting us all at a very chaotic time….I promise, things aren’t usually like this.”

Joel’s not sure why he feels the need to clarify this to you on the drive to the police station. In fact, he might be saying it more to convince himself, because he thinks ever since Sarah’s mom ran off, things have never not been chaotic.

In some ways, he’s glad it happened. It was a doomed relationship from the start, they’d both been far too young to understand the consequences of their actions, so it was probably for the better that she was no longer around. But he was caught in a constant state of feeling like he could never quite get a handle on things.

Joel glances over at you in the passenger's seat of his truck. He decides that you look a little out of place there, dressed in a black pantsuit, a messenger bag tucked between your heel-clad feet. He can’t remember the last time there was an adult woman in his car. Three months, maybe? It had been a date, a third date, and subsequently, a last date. But right now the context is different.

Your head is tilted towards the open window, the breeze casting stray pieces of your hair around as the radio cuts in and out of an old Eagles song and then to static, and then back into music again. He needs to get his damned stereo fixed but unfortunately it hasn’t exactly been high on his priority list. His gaze travels down the slope of your neck, where your skin dips into the collar of your silky blue blouse, then back to your profile, your lips moving as you mouth the words to the song, but don’t sing.

I get this feelin' I may know you

As a lover and a friend

You stop when his words register, turning to look at him, and he averts his eyes back to the road. “No offense or anything….” you say. “But compared to the family I grew up in….this is all pretty tame.”

Joel ponders that for a moment, notices the way your eyes are narrowed, the corners of your lips quirking. “What, you got a problematic little brother, too? A precocious eleven-year-old?”

“No kids,” you answer. He didn’t think so. “But I do have a problematic older brother. And the stress he’s caused has definitely taken years off my life.”

At least you seem like you understand.

He’s shocked you’re in this car with him, that after entertaining his daughter all night, you’d offered to help him out with this Tommy mess. Though, he assumes you’re doing it out of guilt because Sarah made it sound like he was broke.

“You know for the record, I actually have the money to bail him out.”

“I figured.”

“Then why’d you come?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. My life has been pretty boring lately. I can’t remember the last time I did something exciting on a Friday night.”

“This is exciting to you?”

“It’s objectively exciting,” you sound assured. “Maybe more exciting than being the person who got arrested for public intoxication.”

Despite the stress of the evening, he can’t help but laugh.

“And whether you’re broke or not, bailing someone out of jail is no joke. If you can at least try to talk your way out of it, you might as well.”

Joel can’t argue with your logic.

“What is it you do again?” you ask, eyeing the protective glasses he has in the cup holder of his front seat. There are nails stuck between the rubber grooves of the mat beneath the seats, a pair of thick gloves resting on the dashboard.

“I’m a carpenter.”

“Makes sense,” you answer. “So you’re handy?”

“You could say that,” Joel lifts the can of flat, warm seltzer from his lunch break to his mouth, just to take a sip.

“That’s hot,” you say, and he nearly chokes when he hears it. Are you….flirting? Though, you can’t be, because when he looks over at you, you’re staring at the road, face neutral.

“What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know, I don’t make the rules of what’s hot and what isn’t….it’s just a fact. Everyone knows that.”

“Do they?”

“Uh-huh,” you respond. “I mean, I wish I was handy. I’m pretty much a lost cause in that department.”

“If it paid the bills, you’d figure it out.”

“If it paid the bills, I can tell you, I would not be living in our neighborhood.”

Joel puts his blinker on, preparing to pull into the police station. “You probably still could, it’s not that nice of a neighborhood.”

“Shut up,” you snort, rolling your eyes. “But in all seriousness, it is peaceful. It’s quiet.”

“See, but you still didn’t say nice.”

“It is nice. I like it.”

When he parks the car, you straighten up, unbuckling the seatbelt and exiting without a word. On the opposite side of the truck, he observes how you rebutton the front of your blazer, smooth down its lapels and shift your shoulders back before turning to him.

“You ready?” you ask.

He nods.

“After you.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When Joel spots you again, Tommy is walking a few paces behind you. You turn your head over one shoulder, smirking at whatever he’s saying. From where Joel is sitting in the lobby, he can just make out the soft curve of your hips, the tops of your thighs over the barrier that separates him from all the desks of the officers and staff at the station. You’ve got an easy, relaxed gait and you give Joel a wink when he catches you staring.

He can tell it’s just meant to be celebratory thing, since both you and Tommy seem to be in good spirits, but he likes the sight of it anyways, the idea that you’re both in on some secret that no one else is.

Joel stands to greet you and his brother to get the download, but as he approaches, your group is intercepted by one of the cops that had been hanging around reception.

“Miller,” he says lowly to Tommy. “This better be the last time I see you in here.”

When Tommy doesn’t answer right away, you pipe up.

“I assure you my client will be on his best behavior.”

The cop turns to you for a minute, turns back to Tommy, contemplating. “You’re lucky you have a good lawyer…” he says. “Although I’m still not convinced you’re really paying someone to get you out of a public intoxication charge.”

“I-” Tommy opens his mouth but you cut him off.

“Alleged…intoxication,” you interject, stone-faced.

“He can hardly walk straight.”

You purse your lips. “But….you never did a sobriety test, so, would it hold up in court?” you grimace. “If I had to guess….probably not.”

The cop narrows his eyes at you. “Don’t push it, princess.”

Despite the infantilizing nickname, You respond with a polite smile. “Thanks again, officer. Have a nice evening.”

“Mhm,” he murmurs before backing away.

You turn to Joel, your smile fading, and Tommy cuts in. “We should get the fuck out of here before he changes his mind.”

“That’s it? You’re free?” Joel asks.

Tommy nods.

“Tommy’s right, we should definitely leave.”

It’s a mad scramble, the three of you settling back into Joel’s truck, and if he was feeling a little less angsty about the way the whole evening had gone, he might’ve even peeled out of the parking lot for dramatic effect. But at this point, his patience is wearing thin.

He’s back on the main drag, en route to Tommy’s place, with you on the passenger’s side, and his brother in the back, leaning forward with his elbows resting on your seats when his brother speaks up.

“Holy….shit!” Tommy turns to you. “That was fucking awesome, are you kidding me? Joel, where the fuck did you find her?”

He’s still drunk, words slurring together, and he shakes both of your shoulders ferociously. You actually giggle — the sound of it is fucking adorable and Joel wishes that these are not the circumstances for hearing such a noise. He rather it be because of something he said, but he knows Tommy has always been more charming, even when drunk

“She’s my neighbor, Tommy.”

“No way! How come I’ve never seen you around before?” Tommy asks, and Joel can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“I’m kind of new to the area,” you answer.

“Dammit, oh my god, Joel, I wish you coulda seen it.”

Joel looks over at you, and is thankful that he catches your eye. “What’d you say?”

“Never underestimate your negotiating power when the cop you’re talking to’s shift ended over an hour ago, and he doesn’t want to fill out any more paperwork.” You cross your arms, look over your shoulder at Tommy, who is leaning back against the seat with his head in his hands, laughing, before looking back at Joel. “I told you, I have experience.”

“Oh my god,” Tommy pokes his head back between you. “How’d he even get you to come down here? What’d he have to do, offer to paint your house or somethin’?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Sarah got locked out again,” Joel explained. “And I was over at her place when you called. She’s a corporate lawyer.”

“Ah, that makes sense. You know, Joel’s always liked the smart ones,” Tommy starts, and Joel has to contain the urge to slam on the brakes and send his brother face first into the back of his headrest. Unfortunately, he can’t do that with you in the car. “Too bad he’s dumb as a box of rocks.”

“Okay, watch yourself!” Joel snaps, and he’s only halfway kidding. “You got off easy, but you’re on fuckin’ thin ice, and I’m still pissed that I’m spending my night bailing you out again.”

Tommy doesn’t even catch on to Joel’s irritation – or maybe he does, and has just decided that he’s going to be the Annoying Younger Sibling and see how far he can push it. “Don’t let him fool you, okay?” Tommy continues, and you’ve angled yourself towards him, amused. “It’s not always him lookin’ after me. Before he had Sarah, he was crazy.”

“Alright, alright that’s enough, Tommy.” Joel shoots daggers towards his brother in the rearview mirror, and he watches Tommy’s smile falter, finally deciding to back down.

“Is that true, Joel, were you really crazy?” you ask after Tommy grows quiet, tilting your head. “I can’t see it.”

“Well we’ve all have our moments, right?” he says sheepishly.

“We do,” you agree, and then it’s finally silent.

Joel is thankful to see Tommy’s driveway straight in front of him, and his car lurches up the curb. “Alright, alright, this is your last stop,” he says to his brother. “You’ll get in okay?”

Tommy takes a deep breath, settling himself after all his bravado and sinking back against his seat. “I’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at Sarah’s game.” He slinks out of the truck and slams the door behind him.

Normally, Joel would’ve chewed him out after something like this, but he knows being hungover tomorrow at a middle school soccer game, sandwiched between screaming parents and the ear-splitting whistles of the referees will be punishment enough.

“I’ll see you then.” He watches his brother stumble up the steps to his home, unlock the door, and give a wave before disappearing inside.

Joel’s left alone with you. “Should we get you home, now?”

“Yeah, we should.”

Joel puts the car in reverse, puts one of his arms over the back of the bench seat to look for cars behind him, and catches you staring. You don’t even seem embarrassed that he notices, either, you just shift your gaze away to outside the window.

He feels a little self-conscious about the first impression he’s probably made, which is a feeling he’s not used to…caring about what people think.

“Sorry about him, he’s….a good guy but a real piece of work.”

You giggle. “Like I said, I have a brother, too.”

It’s been awhile since he’s interacted with anyone outside of Sarah, Tommy, and his coworkers, and his day was exhausting. He wants to ask more questions, see if he can hold some kind of conversation, but words fail him, so you spend the short drive on the way back home mostly in silence. You’re so quiet that by the time he pulls into your driveway, he thinks you might be asleep. If you were, he doesn’t even get the chance to wake you, because you immediately sit up straight once the truck has come to a halt.

“Thanks for everything tonight,” he says.

“You’re welcome, it was no problem,” you get out of the car, sling your bag over your shoulders, and close the door. “Have a good night.”

Joel’s listening to the retreating click of your heels up the driveway when he rolls down his window all the way to speak again. It’s clear you’re tired, your shoulders are slouched, and he feels incredibly guilty. You worked all day and then had to put up with his entire crazy family.

“Hey,” he says. “How much do I owe you for the pizza?”

You turn around, still stepping backwards. “Nothing.”

“Look, you’ve done too much for me tonight to say that,” he says. “I’m startin’ to feel bad.”

You stop in your tracks then, the smirk on your face fading a little bit as you slowly step forward to where he leans out the truck window. It’s only a few feet, but you’re much closer now than you’ve been to him all night, and there must be jasmine in your perfume. It smells expensive, he thinks, as your hands lift to rest on the door next to his elbow. “You shouldn’t feel bad,” you say softly, voice low.

God, you’re fucking beautiful, he realizes, basked in the glow of the moon, a smile creeping along the edges of your lips. Of course, he knew you were attractive, had definitely registered it at some point before – maybe when he’d walked in on you and Sarah giggling in the kitchen. He was just too busy being worried to even notice until now.

This isn’t a date, but you’re so close he could kiss you, kind of wants to just to see what would happen, but he doesn’t. You’re his new neighbor, and if he’s reading this wrong, he doesn’t want to be reminded of the mistake everyday, first thing in the morning when you’re picking up your newspaper at the end of your driveway and he’s leaving for work.

“But uh…if it would make you feel better…one of the steps on my front porch is rotted. Maybe you could come over sometime and fix it? That a fair trade?”

Joel nods, and you stick out your hand. “It’s a deal,” he says, ignoring the jolt of energy he feels when your palms press together, like you’re a kid wearing a hand buzzer, trying to shock him.

“Great,” you step away. He’s about to put the car in reverse when you speak again.

“Oh, and Joel?” you ask, he looks back at you. Before you speak again, your eyes shift to the ground, like you’re mustering up the courage to ask him something, and when they return to his again, your expression is somber. “Go easy on Sarah….she’s a good kid.”

Joel nods, understanding.

“I know.”

volume ii

taglist: @yaskna @venomous-ko @lomljigg

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller series #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #tlou hbo #tlou fanfic #tlou series #texas sun

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hazelsmirrorball · 5 months

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Rockstar Girlfriend VI. | Hazel Callahan

Rockstar! Hazel Callahan x Popstar! Reader

Summary: Hazel Callahan and Y/n L/n have to be in a pr relationship, but both of them can stand each other.

Warnings: Enemies to lovers! Enemies to lovers! Enemies to lovers! Angst, Fight (not physical) Not proof read. Sorry for any mistakes, English isn't my main language.

a/n: I’m back after a while!! Sorry for being MIA. I don't know how to feel about this but I'm really thankful for all the support. Lots of new things coming soon. love you guys.

part one. part two. part three. part four. part five.

The tour was canceled.

Everything Y/n had worked for went down the drain. Not only had she lost the tour she risked everything for, but she had lost her bandmates' trust. They were losing followers by the minute and receiving hate left and right. All that success she had gained because of Hazel was almost gone.

The moment everyone found out about Hazel's outburst, the show was canceled with a blink of an eye. They could hear the cries and screams of fans outside. Y/n couldn’t bear to listen, she felt bad, guilty even. Management said that her band couldn’t perform because they were only the openers, so karma was biting her ass quickly.

But after one show became two and then two became five, management canceled the whole tour, every single date. They claimed that they couldn’t do anything without Hazel, their star. Y/n tried to be positive that maybe Hazel was joking around and that she was going to come back but when management canceled the tour, her feet finally hit the floor. The tour was over before it even started. The hop of the wave of success both bands were having was cut short. The most anticipated tour of the year was canceled due to mental health issues from one of the band members. That was what got posted on the band's page and every news article.

But Hazel made it her job for people to know that, that wasn’t the case. If the tour was canceled she wanted people to know the real reason, no more tricks, no more lies and no more fake love. Y/n felt her heart stop when her phone started to blow up with notifications and her eyes landed on a video Hazel had posted on instagram after being MIA for two weeks.

That was when “Mean” was born.

“Hi guys! I know I’ve been gone for a while and all of a sudden the tour got canceled. But I’m here to tell you guys that we are currently working to get your back running again. This time we decided it was best to get new openers. Anyways, on my little break I decided to write this song I really hope you guys enjoy!” Hazel said to the camera starting to strum her guitar. Y/n felt her heart drop every second that passed by. If she was already losing everything with a blink of an eye it wouldn’t surprise Y/n if what was left of her career ended just because of that song.

hazel.callahan via instagram

liked by bottomstheband, y/nnn, and others

hazel.callahan rehearsals for tour are the shit! I missed this a lot, can't wait for tour to start <3

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hazelsbottoms she's backkkkkkkk

user101 mother is back, hope tour doesn't get cancelled this time.

pjandhazeparis sorry to disappoint but I'll be a groupie for life

bottomsupdates why is y/n lurking in the likes? hasn't she done enough

| ynloveshazel please leave y/n alone

| bottomsupdates she's the one lurking her comments

Hazel had uploaded an acoustic version of a song she had written through her break in an attempt for people to understand what she was going through. It was something new, different from the songs she was used to writing for herself and other people. The song quickly took the world by storm gaining everyone’s attention. Fans had caught up quickly with who the song was written for, making it their job to make Y/n’s life a living hell. Her band's account was barely existent by the minute and management was going insane.

Y/n couldn’t let things slide. She had three options, let her pr team do everything for her, clap back and deny the allegations, or attempt to do a song just like Hazel did. The thing was, Y/n was already used to Hazel’s constant help writing songs and honestly she kinda missed spending midnights with her writing songs. She missed how Hazel would slowly touch her skin in an attempt to get her attention or how she got lost in her blue eyes while she tried to explain the chorus of the song. Y/n missed Hazel. She hated herself for running things with her. Things were finally different, this time Y/n didn’t hate Hazel, Hazel just hated Y/n.

She was going to make things right, possibly ending her career. But it was worth it. If Hazel heard the song, she could lose everything and she wouldn’t care.

Y/n propped her camera hitting record while sitting in front of it, letting out a sigh. She slowly strummed the guitar she barely knew how to play but all she could think of was all the times Hazel had attempted to teach her how to play it.

“This song is for someone special in my life that I treated so badly. I know I fucked up and I wished I could go back to december, they day I met you and start all over”

y/n's instagram

liked by bottomstheband, ynnnn, and others

y/nnn but if we loved again, I swear I’d love you right

comments have been deactivated

Y/nnn let out a sigh as she looked at her phone flooding with notifications. At least if she was gone for social media, she was certain Hazel had heard the song. Maybe she could get another chance or another life where they could get together with no mistakes. Y/n’s thoughts got interrupted by a harsh knock on her door. She quickly walked towards it, ready to face her neighbor. But she felt her heart drop when she noticed the familiar blue eyes she had fallen in love with. Y/n’s eyes wandered all over her trying to tell if she was real or an act of her imagination due to the lack of sleep. But as the words slipped out of her mouth she knew it was all reality.

“My guitar.” Hazel replied, playing with her feet. Y/n furrowed her eyebrows and looked at her confused.

“What do you mean, my guitar? How do you know where I live?” Y/n responded leaning against the doorframe trying to get a better look at Hazel.

“My guitar. You have my lucky guitar, I saw it in the video you posted. Now, can you please give it back”

“No.”

“What do you mean no? It’s mine, L/n.”

“You don’t speak to me, drop a diss track on my name and expect me to give you back you guitar” Y/n exclaimed while looking at Hazel with a surprised look on her face.

“Are you insane? You do know that all of this is not my fault, right? I was willing to do anything for you but you preferred the fame over me. You fucked up your own career and you fucked up with me. Yet, I came here, to your apartment and you still want to act like the victim instead of saying your sorry. You know what stays with the stupid guitar. I don’t want it anyway. You want to play a game that I’m really tired of playing. I really don't understand why are you like this.” Hazel exclaimed loudly pulling on her hairs.

"I like you Hazel and I'm like this because I know I screwed up the only good thing in my life" Y/n said loudly leaving Hazel with her mouth wide open not knowing what say.

At least he got the chance he desperately needed.

thank you for reading

previous part.

#hazel bottoms #hazel callahan reader insert #hazel x reader #hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #kit tanthalos #kit tanthalos x reader #ruby cruz x reader #ruby cruz #hazel callahan bottoms #bottoms movie

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babygorewhore · 4 months

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Reunion

After moving back for college in Hawkins, you decide to reach out to your childhood friend and long time crush, Eddie Munson. And after a surprising reunion, he takes a step he’s always wanted to.

Warnings!! Smut! Riding! Unprotected sex! Porn with little plot! Eddie is a simp. This is extremely short but it’s okay.

Female in photo is just for aesthetic! Also thank you to @reidsbtch for reassuring this isn’t garbage lol. Not proof read since I wrote it in a day okay bye.

Moodboard

Moving back to Hawkins for college was the last thing your parents wanted but since you were way past high school, they could only accept it. But it wasn’t the only reason you moved back into a small apartment.

Eddie Munson. You were desperate to see him again after so many years.

You both met at music lessons during childhood. He didn’t have his long curls that you saw when you found him on instagram several months ago. He was so cute. He posted pictures of his band, Corroded Coffin, his guitar and his young friend who he took under his wing. Dustin. When he wasn’t performing he was an enthusiastic bartender that he often encouraged people to go too.

And he was also a pothead. Which ensured your plan on how to meet him again.

You underwent your own transformation. You always had been an alternative but you became a fully gothic dressing woman a few years ago. He wouldn’t recognize you now unless he looked closely.

You reached out to him via Instagram story for a meeting for weed sale and he was quick to respond. He didn’t like any of your pictures but he didn’t follow you. Eddie still had his dramatic speech pattern as he responded to you and gave you a place for the sale. A place in the woods.

Your boots were crunching on branches and grass as you made your way to the table he described in the message. Sitting down, you picked at the peeling nail polish on your fingers as you waited.

“Sorry about that,” His voice caught you by surprise as you turned. “My band practice was running behind and I swear I had a million missed calls from Dustin who needs me for girl advice which obviously I don’t have success with but hey who’s gonna teach him. And then my van didn’t want to start.”

He slid on the bench across from you with a small box. “Oh I’m rambling, but anyway, hi, it’s nice to see you,”

You were trying not to grin the entire time he spoke. He still had the same over-explanation and frantic gestures as he shuffled. Eddie’s black Iron Maiden shirt and black jeans fit him well. Exposing his tattoos and his guitar pick necklace.

He finally looked at you with soft brown eyes. But no recognition seemed to pass. He extended his hand to shake yours. “You’re- please tell me I didn’t forget your name?”

You told him, waiting for him to get the hint as you released him. His head quirked to the side. His lips pulled between his teeth as he studied you. “Sorry, you just-you remind me of someone I knew years ago. But-“

“Eddie. It’s me. Remember? Remember how we were friends as kids? we played music together at the store. Piano and you learned guitar. You hated sitting still and your hair was buzzed-“

“OH MY GOD!” He almost fell off the bench. “It’s you! Oh shit!”

You were laughing now, a full belly laugh as you saw him move off his seat and he barreled towards you. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and head. Your nose was pressed against his chest; smelling his scent that was warm and comforting. “It’s so good to see you too.”

Your own hands were around his waist since you were still sitting but Eddie pulled back. And then he bent down, cupped your face and pressed his lips to yours.

You gasped, your eyes wide open at the pressure of his mouth. His lips were soft and then you relax your shoulders. But a second later he pulled back and stood away. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that was-it’s just I haven’t seen you in so long.” He was breathing audibly and your cheeks burned.

“It’s-it’s okay Eddie. I really sat this whole thing up so I could surprise you.” You paused. “And oh no you’ve got lipstick on you.”

You went to wipe it off and he froze as your thumb swiped across his lip.

“Oh I don’t mind. I’ve been wanting to try out that color.” He looked so proud of himself for the joke. But he leaned in close again, “is that…okay? If I kiss you again? I just want to show you how much I missed you,” He flashed his eyebrows and you giggled.

Kissing led to you both stumbling to his van, he barely shut the door when you both fell on the backseat. Eddie’s lips traveled all over your neck, collar bones and finally settled to suck the place underneath your jaw. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” He muttered lowly as you arched into him.

Your hands tore at his jacket, years of pent up energy and desire for him coming through. Eddie paused, hovering over your mouth. “Is this okay?”

“Shut up, Eddie,” You flipped him over, pulling off your shirt, your tits bounced and his eyes darkened as he rolled his hips underneath you. His jeans were tight against his hardening cock.

His hands flew to massage your chest, you started unbuckling his pants and yanked them down his legs. His cock slapped against his stomach and his eyes widened as you wasted no time sinking down.

“Fuck,” He moaned. “God I’ve wanted this so long and it’s-“ He rolled his head back as you took control, bouncing harder as he filled you up, your wet pussy greedily taking him.

Eddie’s hips roughly thrusted into you as your hands landed on his shoulders as you steadied yourself. “Fuck, Eddie, I-“

Your core was growing wetter as your peak was approaching. His hand drifted to your neck, squeezing lightly. “Come on, give me your cum, baby. Give me what I’ve always wanted.”

Your stomach released as you came around him, your movements getting sloppy as you shuddered around his dick.

“Fucking hell,” Eddie spilled inside you. “Baby, you’re so fucking hot.”

His words made you chase your orgasm and then you slowly climbed off. Kneeling on the floor. Eddie caught his breath before turning towards you and cupping your cheek. “That’s one hell of a reunion, sweetheart.”

You grinned. “Glad to see you wanted it just as much as I did.”

Eddie sat up. “Are you kidding? Have you seen yourself? You’re my dream girl. I can’t believe you even let me kiss you.”

You blushed even more despite the fact that you just finished fucking him a minute ago. The creamy fluids in between your thighs sticking together as you were kneeling.

Eddie smirked and shifted on the seat. “I want you to sit up here, baby girl. I want to taste how well we mix together.”

Tagging @xxhellfirebunnyxx @slvt4jamesmarch @imyourdaninow @chrrymunson @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @take-everything-you-can @lesservillain

#eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #Eddie Munson imagine #Eddie Munson one shot #Eddie Munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things imagine #eddie munson stranger things #Eddie smut

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lilly-chou-chou · 7 months

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Lolita fashion: A guide for beginners and love letter to seasoned Lolitas (Fashion guide part ll)

Hello everyone!! Few days ago I had made a guide for people interested and doing gyaru fashion (interested people please visit my account to read about it <3) moving on I was intrigued and ready to take on the world of Lolita fashion as well, I hope this guides helps newer people and makes other old followers of this amazing fashion culture realize that it is all about fun and feeling pretty. Some may agree with this and some may not either way I am posting this <3

(Kindly please stop sending d#ath threads regarding this post. Kindly also refrain from sending comments saying I deserve those threaths please 🙏🏼)

My guides start from here on. So as a lot of people know, this culture of fashion was started by taking inspirations from Rococco and Victorian era. Over the years this subculture of Japanese fashion has definitely evolved and this subculture has given birth to many sub styles like most famous being sweet Lolita, gothic Lolita and hime Lolita.

So now that you know the gist of this style let me educate you further that the reason Lolita fashion exists is purely just for fun. People especially women wanted to feel that elegance and olden time beauty and dressed up in Lolita just for fun!! So no. 1 rule of Lolita is to have fun. Enjoy what you wear and buy.

Yes, when you first begin it is necessary that you browse through the summary but make sure to ONLY browse through the history of Lolita fashion. Never pay too much attention towards rules of Lolita because again just like gyaru fashion it was and has always been foreigners who police others and are way too anal about rules when as a matter of fact the whole reason Lolita and gyaru existed was to have fun! Of course but only gyaru had a backstory of opposing with stereotypes of women in Japan.

I am here to tell you that I have lived in Japan during the hype of Lolita and gyaru (also being an avid follower of both fashion culture since the age of 4) and having talking with foreigners and locals I suggest you to only LIKE ONLY listen to locals because they truly know what's up. My guides are filled with my experience and what they have told me.

So let's talk about rules like lace and materials and shit. What I have been told and have been doing my life is that pick any lace design that you feel pretty in because in the end even back then Lolita fashion magazines and shows would only tell you what a typical Lolita would wear like poofy dress and small details like pretty wigs and such but people in streets be it Harajuku or Shibuya or etc etc didn't follow these rules themselves and they were covered in latest Lolita trends from head to toe.

The magazines and such only give you an idea of what you can do or typical image of a Lolita fashion follower. That doesn't mean you have to do exactly that. Things like "stop wearing that" "your lace is ugly" "wow you purchased dress from Amazon? Fuck you" "that dress quality sucks you are NOT a real Lolita" is all doing of foreigner Lolita fashion followers.

I am so sorry if you ever encountered any of these people but Lolita girlies in Japan will never harass you like this.

Plus buying stuff from Amazon is OKAY because even though these days there are many affordable Lolita dresses and accessories, it is okay to still look for options and I understand that some people don't have budget and just because you are tight on budget doesn't mean you should be left out. YOU ALSO DESERVE TO FEEL PRETTY! Amazon might not be authentic if that's what you can afford atm then go for it please, enjoy and have fun because you were to meet other Japanese Lolitas they will say things like "wow I didn't know these days Amazon sold such good quality Lolita dresses" never feel guilty for buying off brand.

What people don't tell you is that these days even brands break some of the rules from Lolita fashion and honestly if the household brands break them then you also shouldn't feel bad about messing up. I just want Lolita fashion culture to be welcoming and I don't want beginners to be afraid and I don't want old members to feel the need to be always classic authentic.

Even the queen and ambassador of foreign affairs kawaii aka president of Japan Lolita Association Misako Aiko who has been doing Lolita fashion for 25 years also mixes and matches from different fashion and breaks so called rules like poofy dress shape, owning few dresses with no laces, hair usually styled in a simple way, not always wearing a blouse or a head wear etc etc.

In conclusion if the president of Lolita fashion and household brands are breaking rules then you should also not feel guilty for few little things here and there. Aim of Lolita fashion is to feel pretty and have fun. You are the prettiest person alive, embrace it and have fun with this style. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Do what makes you happy and don't ever feel guilty about buying off brands because sometimes food, shelter and bills is important and that is understandable.

I love everyone of you. Hope my guides help you a lot <3

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auteurdelabre · 3 months

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Please, Mr. Miller? Sequel part 3 - DBF!Joel x f!Reader

As I type this, the winner of the "What story should I post next?" poll is this one by a landslide, which is lucky because I can't get these two horny idiots outta my head.

summary: After fucking Joel Miller in a bathroom during dinner with your BF and best friend Sarah last night he suggests you two meet to talk things out before you leave for Ibiza. . . But talking isn't all you do.

Part 3 of this sequel of PWP with a lil' plot thrown in. Suspend your disbelief y'all.

words: 7.6k

rating: 18+

warnings: Dirty Talk, Daddy Kink, Kissing, Exhibitionism, Cuckhold, oral (F and M receiving), Infidelity, Caught in the Act, Angst, Age Gap, Possessiveness,

a/n: I write some depraved shit, but I think this might take the cake. You've been warned.

masterlist here

[2:45pm] HIM💜 : We gotta talk

[2:48pm] I'm leaving for Ibiza at five. I'm packing.

[2:448pm] HIM💜: Sarah is with Charlie. She told me they're gonna spend the night in town. Some anniversary thing.

[2:49pm] K

[2:50pm] HIM💜: So maybe I could come over and we could talk about everything?

[2:55pm] I don't know Joel

[2:55pm] HIM💜: No funny business. I think we just need to get things out in the open

[2:57pm] HIM💜: Please

[2:59pm] Ok.

///

Joel arrives an hour later with two coffees and a sheepish expression on his handsome face. The dorms are mostly empty thanks to spring break, so no one sees the man coming into your room. You step back, letting him enter as you take the coffee from him with a soft thanks. He’s wearing a soft grey t-shirt under a green plaid flannel, his dark jeans straining over his thighs.

You take a sip of the coffee, trying to fight the affection that swims in your chest when you realize he knows exactly how you take it.

"Didn't really get a good look at this place yesterday," Joel says as he walks the perimeter of the small space trying to work up the courage to broach the topic you both want to dance around. "S'cozy."

Joel looks at your bed and you see something pass behind his eyes; a thought, a feeling, you're not quite sure. You wiser what he thinks of your pale pink sheets and fluffy pillows. If he notices the books that are strewn over your nightstand.

"I'm reading this one right now," he mutters, pointing to Bloom Meridian sitting atop the pile. "S' good."

"I'm enjoying it,” you offer stiffly. You don’t know how to feel about him right now. He looks and smells so damn good, but at the same time all you can think of is how he ignored you until last night. How he stopped responding to your texts until he wanted something. You put the coffee cup on your dresser, feeling nervous.

“Joel you didn’t come here to talk books.”

Joel blinks a moment before he nods awkwardly, draining what remains of his coffee before dropping it in the garbage can. He inhales slowly, like a balloon being filled and then he fixes you with a stern look.

"I just wanted to come over to say that this is getting out of control," Joel says quietly.

No shit.

You manage to get out a sharp laugh of derision. "I'm not the one who followed me into a bathroom, Joel."

Joel holds his hands up in defense. "Not saying it's you. It's me too. More me than anything and I'm sorry for it."

Sorry for it.

Regret.

It’s all there etched in the crinkles of his wary eyes as he stares at you. No, he’s staring at your ear, not able to look directly into your eyes. For some reason this makes you furious and heartbroken all in one stroke. Your arms cross in front of your chest, holding you and your emotions at bay.

"I wish you were sorry for calling me when you were drunk," you shoot back finding no reason not to lay into him. "And for fingering me at a table surrounded by everyone including my fucking boyfriend."

Joel's cheeks flush and he winces. You see the way his shoulders slump and his head tilts to look at the ground in shame.

"I’m real sorry for that too. That was a horrible fucking thing to do."

And yet it’s not that which hurts the most. It’s what he said that night of the phone call. The sentence that’s been running around in your mind for the last few weeks. The thing that keeps you up when you should be asleep.

"I really wish you'd apologize for telling me I was gonna ruin your life."

Joel’s head jerks up. "Huh? When did I do that?"

"The drunk phone call."

"Fuck," Joel's hand drags down his face. "I don't even remember that. But I mean..."

He trails off and with every beat of silence you feel your ire grow. Is he actually trying to blame everything on you? You stride over to him, gratified when he takes a nervous step backwards into Sarah’s dresser.

"You're saying I ruined your life?" Anger courses through you now, red hot and piping. You shove his muscled shoulders brutally and he doesn't move. "You're saying you didn't ruin mine? You think you don't haunt my fucking dreams?"

Each word is punctuated with an attempted punch against Joel's chest that he deflects gently by taking your wrists in his hands, holding you, tears in both of your eyes.

"You think I haven't thought about you every fucking day since Christmas?" You say biting back sobs.

"You're with that boy aren't you?" Joel hisses back, the grip on your wrists tightening. "Don't think you're too lonely."

"And you're with Tess!"

"Not for long!' Joel roars at you, his voice a rumble from his chest. Almost immediately you see his eyes shut, his face screwing up as if he’s just been stabbed. You realize he hadn’t meant to share this information with you.

Now it’s your turn to take a step backwards, your wrists still caught in his hold. His words settle over you both, leaving you with wide eyes as Joel's jaw tics.

"W-what?"

Joel drops your wrists and lowers himself to sit on the edge of your bed, his breath coming out in a long sigh.

"S'why she's not here this week," Joel tells you, head in his hands, elbows balanced on his thighs. "We've been arguin' a lot, practically since we got married, but lately its been worse. She suggested this week be good for time apart. To clear our heads."

You blink quickly before coming to sit next to him, your hands folding over your lap. There’s a rocking sensation in your stomach, a mixture between profound joy and extreme compassion. You think of Tess and Joel as people separate from you, a husband and wife who have found themselves in a terrible position.

"I'm sorry, Joel."

"No you're not."

"Don't tell me how I feel," you shoot back irritated. "I am sorry for you and for Tess. Divorce is hard. I'm sorry for Sarah."

"Sarah barely knew Tess," Joel shrugs. "Neither of them really made much effort. Not that I blame 'em. Sarah's a grown woman, she doesn't need a mom."

"But you love her," you reason in a small voice.

"I did- do," Joel self corrects. He doesn't look at you; his head is still in his hands. His thumbs rub small circles into his temple. You can feel the tension that remains.

"But it's not just that, is it?"

He straightens, eyes moving to your face before fleeing to the rest of the room. He picks apart the dents in the wall from when you and Sarah had a dance party after exams. The papers on your desk that are scribbled on. The soft lace that trim the pillows on your bed. From where you sit it all looks so immature. The longer he looks the more he shakes his head.

"It's just ... I'm some fucking cliché," Joel mutters ruefully. "Old guy fucking some gorgeous young thing until she gets bored."

"Bored?"

"You think I'm dumb?" Joel snaps and for once he intimidates you with the glare he shoots your way. "If I were just some guy on the street you'd never have looked twice. But I'm married and your friend's dad and you thought you'd have a fun little thrill."

The air is knocked from your lungs.

"You think I'm doing this because I get off on you being married?" You ask, crestfallen.

Joel fixes you with a withering gaze that makes you want to shrink back into the bed sheets.

"You fucked me in my bed saying you could keep a secret, sucked my wedding ring off my finger, told me to hold you down with my left hand, when I fucked you in my truck," Joel starts to list off the various moments of indiscretion. "What am I supposed to think about that?"

Your eyes fall to your fingers tangled in your lap.

"I liked the power of making you want me," you confess quietly. "That you shouldn't want me but you did. That you were choosing me."

"It turned you on that it was wrong."

Joel's voice is full of so much disgust that it infuriates you.

"It turned you on too! The whole forbidden thing, I know it did. You don’t get to put this all on me! You’re the one that chose to fuck my mouth with your wife out the window. You liked sneaking around, Joel."

"Yeah and look at us now!"

"Yeah, look at us now," you scoff. Joel looks like he wants to jump out the window or punch something. He bites the inside of his cheek, unable to look at you when he speaks next.

"It was nothing but a thrill for you."

“That’s not true.”

“You wanted to fuck a married guy,” Joel insists with a disgusted scoff. “I was just the first one stupid enough to do it.”

“So fucking me was stupid?”

“No,” Joel insists and you see the panic there in the dark of his eyes. “It was… I’m the older one, I never shoulda let it go this far.”

“I’m an adult, Joel,” you say rolling your eyes. “Neither of us is clean here. We both did it and we both liked it. And yeah, I can admit it started as a married man thing, but that's not how it ended. Not for me."

Joel’s barely breathing as he rubs at the back of his neck anxiously. He keeps rolling his tongue to the side of his cheek, deep in thought as he paces back and forth in front of you.

"Good sex-"

"It's not just the sex," you cut in, breath trembling with the sudden honesty. "Those times at Christmas when you and I talked? The snowflake? When you look at me you see something. The same something I see in you."

Joel's eyes have softened, and he comes back to sit next to you on the bed. His large frame causes the mattress to creak. It's funny he can look so fierce in that body of his, but when you see his eyes you can see inside and you know there's nothing but sweet gentle kindness that draws you in.

"What do you see?"

"I don't know exactly," you shrug, overwhelmed by the emotion. "Something powerful. Something that draws us together over and over. Something that when I’m in your arms makes the rest of the world go quiet."

Joel grows still and his brows knit together. He twists slightly, his knee bumping into yours. His voice is thoughtful and measured when he finally speaks to you, squinting.

"I'm supposed to believe you actually want me? You? Beautiful, intelligent young woman wants an old man like me?"

"You're not old," you insist with a frown. "Mature yeah, but not old."

"Old enough to be your da-" Joel catches himself, flushing pink at the tips of his ears. "Old enough to be your father."

"You had Sarah real young," you say with amusement. "My dad's got at least fifteen years on you."

Joel gives a wry smirk but you can see the discomfort in his features.

"Joel have you seen yourself?" You say with confusion clear in your expression. "Do you not see how women look at you? The waitress last night nearly dropped the pitcher of sangria on my lap because she was staring at you."

"C'mon now," Joel says shyly glancing away from you. You can tell he's not used to this kind of praise, this kind of appreciation and it hurts to know that.

"It's true," you insist, wishing you could cover his face in kisses. "The first time I saw you in the airport I was shocked at how hot you were."

"Enough," Joel is embarrassedly looking away now, tilting slightly from your searching gaze.

"Your arms in that t-shirt," you continue, voice growing dreamy. "Your shoulders when you were carrying stuff to your truck."

Your closer now, body angling towards his and pupils blown wide.

"Don't," Joel warns you huskily, tilting slightly back from you. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you want me to fuck you," Joel murmurs.

"Maybe I do."

"Well that's the problem ain't it?" Joel huffs, forcing himself to a stand again. You don’t miss the way he moves slightly hunched over, trying to hide his burgeoning erection. "We can't keep goin' on like this. It's gotta stop. But we both gotta be in agreement. We gotta help each other."

"How?"

"If one of us starts up the other ones gotta stop it," Joel insists. "We gotta be strong for each other."

"But what if I don't want to be strong?" You ask him with genuine feeling. "What if I wanted to keep seeing you? Not just for sex?"

"You'll get bored."

"I won't."

“We barely know one another,” Joel says. “You might hate me the more you get to know me.”

“Not possible.”

All you can focus on the anguish in Joel's face. You want to soothe the concern from his brow, to kiss his full mouth into submission.

"I should go," Joel says and you watch his eyes slide over your face. You feel desperation tingling through your body.

"So what can we do?" you ask, noting the way Joel's gaze snaps to you as your voice grows husky around the edges.

"Whadda ya mean," Joel asks nervously.

"Where's the line?" You ask innocently. "Can I hug you goodbye, for example?"

Joel's face relaxes, he nods. "Yeah, course."

"Okay good," you say breathily. "Kiss?"

"Not on the mouth."

"Jesus," you roll your eyes.

"We can't," Joel pleads with his eyes. "I can't control myself. Please, we just need to do it this way. Go cold turkey."

Joel swallows and you know you don't want to force him to do anything. If Joel wants you like you want him it shouldn't feel like persuasion. It should be easy.

“Okay.”

You stand and slowly make your way over to him. He holds his arms open, urging you into a tight hug. Your arms go around his waist, your cheek tilting against his chest.

"Well, thanks for seein' me and listenin' to my side of things,” he murmurs against your forehead. You feel tears welling up at the corners of your eyes.

"Anytime Mister Miller."

And just as you begin to accept that perhaps this really is the end, you feel Joel's cock growing hard against your stomach and everything unravels. You press yourself more tightly against him, shifting against him as his fingers dig into your back.

"What're you doin'?" Joel asks in a voice that sounds thick. But his hips are already starting to roll against you.

"Just saying goodbye," you say as if oblivious to his cock hardening further against your belly. Your face is buried in his t-shirt, inhaling deeply the scent of his cologne, his deodorant, the soap from his shower. Everything that makes him Joel.

"Shouldn't-"

"You said hugs were okay," you purr, nuzzling against his sternum. You hold in a smile when he shivers and grips you tighter to him. His hands slide down to cup your ass, kneading the flesh there under your jeans and pulling you tighter against his pelvis.

"Should stop," he tells you in a voice made of velvet over iron. He says this even as he grips your ass and forces his denim-clad cock between your legs the best he can. He rubs there, rutting against you as your arms move to encircle his neck.

Your mouth sponges against his jaw and Joel does nothing to stop you. He even angles his neck so it's easier for you to begin nibbling gently along his muscled tendons that run the length of it as he continues to grind against you.

"Feels good," he murmurs dreamily.

"Yeah?" You whisper huskily. Your hand moves from Joel's back to slide down to the swell of his ass through his jeans. "Gonna let me keep making you feel good?"

His hips tilt into your palm, inhaling through his nose when you start to grind back against him.

"Yes."

"Aren't you gonna stop me?" You huff against his mouth.

"No."

"Cuz you want this just as much as I do?"

"Yes," Joel's mouth crashes against yours. "Fuck yes, I do."

He kisses you fiercely, holding you so tightly to him you’re almost breathless. You make small whining noises, hands gripping against him, begging him brokenly to please fuck you.

"Here in your bed?" Joel says huskily, lips quirking into an oily smirk. "So you can come all over your pretty pink sheets?"

"Yes," you breathe, lips parting as his mouth finds yours.

He wastes no time divesting you both of your clothing, grinning at you when you lay back on your bed, arms above your head and arch in anticipation. You’re exposed to him in every way and you love it.

He stands next to the bed, hair ruffled from when he's taken his t-shirt off.

“You really want this?”

“Yes, Joel. I really do.”

He lets a palm slide from your kneecap upwards. You arch, ready for his hands and mouth and cock and whatever else he'll give you.

"Lemme just look at you a moment," he says, his warm eyes running the length of your naked body. The head of his cock weeps the longer his eyes linger. "Goddam you are a beautiful thing."

You feel a heat rise to your cheeks, unable to look him in the face. Instead your eyes fixate on his cock, thick and beautiful. You curve up onto your knees, crawling to the edge of the bed with a playful look as Joel stares at you from under half-lowered lids.

"Please, Mister Miller?" you say nuzzling his thigh with your cheek.

"You wanna taste?" He croons, palm on your cheek as you nod up at him. "Go on, baby."

You lick his reddened tip and you taste him salty and warm on your tongue, eyelids flickering as you begin to suck. Joel's fingers wind in your hair,

"Fuck I missed this," Joel groans from where he stands beside the bed. "Missed you."

You hum around his cock in agreement, palms rubbing along his belly in comfort. He missed you like you missed him. He moves slowly, his cock dragging out to circle your lips before he pushes back in, making you moan around his shaft.

"Not gonna last long if you keep goin'," he rasps. "And I wanna last for you."

It's your only night until how long? Graduation maybe, you think. But who knows if you'll be able to steal away like this again? In a few short hours you leave for Ibiza with your boyfriend. He’ll be on a plane ride home.

Joel pulls you off of him before his mouth descends, nipping your bottom lip before his mouth seals over yours.

You pull his naked body down against you into the bed, feeling his knees on either side of your hips as he kisses you. His hands are warm and large and they swim over your skin, taking time to savor your flesh as he licks into your mouth. You feel his cock bob against your belly, weeping. You break off to look at it with anticipation.

"Look at what you do to me," Joel murmurs. “Cock never gets like this with anyone else.”

“I want it, Joel.”

"Get on your hands and knees."

You do, back arching as you glance back at him. He's panting, his large eyes fixed on you. A feeling like love overtakes you, making you break his gaze as you turn your head around, dropping it forward as he slides into your welcoming cunt. The stretch is perfect, leaving you full and warm and... His. You feel like his.

"How do you always feel so fucking perfect?" he groans out from behind you as he starts to thrust.

"It's you who's perfect," you moan back, dropping to your forearms as Joel begins to pound into you. "Never felt so full."

"Never?" Joel grinds out, slapping your ass playfully. "What about Connor?"

"Nothing to me," you answer firmly, not bothering to correct the name. "S'only because I couldn't stop thinking about you."

Joel's hips slow a moment, long enough for you to glance over your shoulder at him. He's shooting you an inscrutable look, his mouth thinned.

"I don't want you waiting for me," he says slowly. “You deserve the world. You deserve a man who can treat you right, who can be with you.”

"I know, I'm not," you lie.

"Alright then," Joel nods and needing to reclaim the frenzy from before he pushes into you with a groan. "Now be good and show me how much you missed my cock."

///

Conrad has always had things come easy to him. Friends, Grades, female attention. And when things didn't come easy he always had money. Money solves a lot of issues.

Today he pops his earbuds in and starts blasting Kanye before shooting you off a quick text as he walks towards your place on campus. His bags are already in the car, ready for a romantic get away with his girl.

[4:55pm] Hey babe u ready?

A text comes through as soon as he sends that one to you.

I miss your cock bb. [Foryou.jpg]

Attached is a very obscene photos of Pam giving a coquettish look to the camera, mouth open and tongue out suggestively.

Pam is the snowbunny from Vermont with the fake tits and great ass. Conrad rolls his eyes, deleting the text and officially blocking the number. He hasn't replied to her since Vermont and she's clearly not getting the message.

He only told you about the Pam because he knew you'd suspected when that dumb bitch insisted on posting a photo of them on Instagram.

He didn't tell you that after she sucked his cock he fucked her in front of the fireplace in her sprawling chalet. He didn't tell you that she got needy and clingy in a way you'd never been and that it made him realize letting you go had been the biggest mistake of his life.

[4:59pm] I'm heading your way. Make sure you don’t forget your bikini

You're the only one he told about cheating on the test. The only one he can tell about a lot of stuff. His parents love you. It's a good match. You're as close to love as he's every experienced.

He's going to propose in Ibiza because it's been five years and his parents are starting to pressure him. You come from a good family, you're smart and beautiful.

Sex with you lately is... Okay. He finds you distracted as of late. And when you're not distant you're more dominant, more in control and he doesn't love it. He likes to be the one in control.

So today when he jogs up the steps of your dorm whistling softly to himself in tune with the music his mind is distracted. He's wondering if the ring he got you is your taste and where a good spot would be to propose. You both have keys to each other's dorm rooms and when he unlocks and pushes open the door he expects it to be empty with your suitcase on the bed.

His eyes are on his phone with the music blasting as he enters. He closes the door behind him before he finally looks up, almost dropping his phone in the process. You're facing the door on your bed on all fours, the sheets a tangle, the scent of sex in the air.

Conrad can only stare in fixated horror, seeing how fucked out your expression is. Mouth hung open, eyes shut, brows furrowed as you rest on your hands and knees. Your fingers clutch at the blankets holding on for dear life as obscene slapping noises fill the room.

Your back is arched violently, body undulating and slick with sweat. Your hair is damp at the temples. It's obvious the two of you have been at this for some time. Your tits swing with every thrust, your body jerking with the sharp snap of the man's hips behind you.

"Faster," you cry out hoarsely, hand going to grab one of the hands on your hips. "Please! I'm so close!"

Watching as you thrust yourself backwards to take this man's cock deeper makes Conrad's stomach twist. Your eyes are rolling back as you whimper out babbling cries of pleasure.

It's now that Conrad's attention shifts to the golden skin of the figure behind you. The sight of some muscular, broad shouldered man fucking into you from behind takes Conrad's breath from him.

Conrad sees the way this man holds your hips possessively in his broad hands, fingertips dimpling the flesh as you grind back against him. He's transfixed at the sight of his girlfriend who is usually so focused during sex is now so loose, so submissive to the looming figure that fucks into her from behind.

His phone drops from his trembling hands, thudding to the carpet and drawing your attention. Your eyes snap open and a look of shock crosses your features.

"Oh ff-fuck," you groan out at the sight of him, but you don't slow your movements. If anything you look more turned on, your hips starting to roll.

"That's my girl," the rumbled twang sounds out from against your shoulder. "Yeah just like that... Oh, fuck just like that my good girl. Make those pretty sounds for me."

Somewhere in all of this, righteous indignation rises to the surface of Conrad's being.

That someone would touch what belongs to him.

///

Joel's head is dropped between your shoulder blades, oblivious to the young man standing at the end of the room. His shoulders are rolling as he pushes and pulls your pliant body along his cock murmuring how good you feel.

Conrad sputters, watching helplessly as a broad, faceless man with a back that glistens with sweat continues to fuck into his girlfriend.

"Who the fuck is this?"

Joel must have heard Conrad this time because his head jerks up, eyes fixed on the handsome young man. Conrad sees the blown out pupils of the older man, the damp curl over his forehead, the way his full lips curve into a sadistic grin.

"I'm her Daddy," Joel rasps, smirking further as Conrad's face goes puce. You give a low moan of pleasure at how wrecked Joel’s voice sounds.

Joel tilts forward, hand wrapped around your neck to gently tilt your face up as he keeps ramming into you from behind. "Tell him, baby."

Your head drops forward shyly but you can't stop the rhythmic pounding of Joel against your ass. You know you should feel guilty and shamed, but all you feel right now is so impossibly turned on. Turned on that Joel is fucking you in your bed. Turned on that he's not stopping even when he's caught. Turned on that Conrad is seeing it happen.

"He's... He's my Daddy," you finally say, slack-jawed as the pleasure of Joel's body builds within you. "Oh fuck.. fuck… ‘n I'm his g-good girl."

"Yeah you are," Joel coos. "So good."

Joel gives a feral grin in Conrad’s direction before tugging you back towards him. The sound of flesh on flesh fills the room as Conrad stands as if frozen. All of a sudden a look of disgust crosses your boyfriend’s features as he recognizes Joel from dinner the night before.

"Does it turn you on knowing he's watching you get fucked?" Joel rasps in your ear. "Makin’ sure he knows you’re all mine right now?"

You can't answer. Your forehead simply drops down to rest on the coverlet as Joel jerks his hips into you. He rights himself into a kneeled position, pulling you by the hips back along his length, watching with delight as your ass jiggles hypnotically with every thrust.

"C'mon baby," Joel pants down at you. "Show this boy who owns your pussy."

"Yes, Mister Miller," you insist, ass in the air as Joel shakes you with every thrust.

"You don't need some pathetic boy when you've got a man's cock," Joel grunts out, each word punctuated by a violent thrust that has you moaning for more. "Just need me don't you?"

"Yes," you cry, eyes squeezing shut. "Feels so good!"

You feel the blinding shine of pleasure being replaced with honeyed release and you keen against him. Arousal soaks him, dripping down his thighs as Joel marvels, his hips not slowing as he chases his own climax.

"She comes so goddam easy," Joel says in awe. His dark eyes dart to a frozen Conrad. "You fucked up lettin’ her go, little boy. Even for a week."

That seems to wake Conrad from whatever stupor he was stuck in. He jerks to life, stepping closer to the bed, his hands in fists. Hands you know have never seen a day’s actual work in their life.

"Get away from her," Conrad says, eyes flashing but voice dim. "You’re a fucking pervert."

"He's n-not," you cry out, unable to focus because Joel doesn't stop what he's doing, he simply pushes you harder in the mattress, fucking deeper.

"You take another step closer and when I'm done fucking your girlfriend here I'll kick your ass," Joel says, jaw squared.

The thought of a fight erupting makes your clit pulse, mewling when Joel's fingers find it, pinching and rubbing at it with his middle and ring finger.

"She make noises like that for you?" Joel challenges. Conrad says nothing in reply, only swallowing hard as his face grows blotchy.

"Nah she doesn’t,” Joel decides. “That’s cuz you didn't know how to fuck her right.”

Now Joel jackhammers into you as his fingers rub your clit, spreading your arousal and causing a trembling to begin in your thighs. He pins your wrists under his hands, making you keen, ass bouncing off his hips.

“My good girl deserves to get fucked right," Joel tells him, voice growing breathless. "Pussy this perfect? And oh… I can feel it squeezin’ me now. She's gonna give me another one aren't you baby?"

"Uh huh."

"Anyone else make you come like this?"

"No," you say quickly, moans escaping every time he thrusts. "Only you."

Conrad makes a choking sound as you come again, hard and crying out raggedly. Lustful gibberish with a few daddy yes’s thrown in for good measure. You jerk violently and then you sag into the bed, spent, face and body soaked with sweat. You pant heavily before you feel Joel’s mouth on your cheek.

“Did so good for me, baby. So fuckin’ good.”

He turns now, raising his head and addressing a still stunned Conrad who stands horrified at the intimacy being displayed. Somehow seeing Joel draped over you murmuring sweet nothings in your ear as you smile is so much worse than him fucking you.

“You ain’t been fucking her right,” Joel says sharply.

“She isn’t your girl,” Conrad insists angrily, his perfectly teeth clashing together. “She’s my fucking girlfriend.”

“Not for long,” Joel warns. “Not if you can’t make her feel better than me.”

You’re slowly coming out of your post-orgasm high, listening passively to the conversation before you realize something is happening. Joel is scooping you gently, tilting you back so that your spine is on the mattress, your thighs spread. You give a sleepy look up at Joel’s handsome face gazing down at you.

“Joel?”

"I'm not gonna be here after this week," Joel murmurs in your ear, pressing another kiss to your cheekbone. "I need to make sure you're bein’ taken care of."

You feel your eyes swim with a mixture of emotion. Devastation that Joel is leaving soon, gratitude that he wants to know you’re being taken care of even if it means it won’t be by him. He presses a firm kiss to your mouth.

“You ready, beautiful girl?”

“Mhmm.”

“Alright then,” Joel smiles softly at you before turning a sharp eye on Conrad. Your boyfriend is already hard at the sight of you there on the bed, spread for him, cunt glistening. Joel jerks his head in your direction.

“You show me you can make her come, boy.”

Conrad feels his anger overtaking him at the challenge. This old fuck with the bad haircut thinks that he can take you from him? It isn’t even about you anymore; it’s about Conrad’s pride. And he’s got more than the typical male.

Joel moves from the bed, a gentlemanly gesture. He goes to stand a few paces back, watching with shark-like intensity at you spread on the bed for another man. You look at him through your half-lidded eyes, missing the warmth of his body already.

"I'll make her come like you wouldn't believe old man," Conrad sneers. He doesn't know why but he feels this need to outperform Joel in this. Still dressed in his slacks and dress shirt he drops to his knees in front of you at the edge of the bed, sliding his hands up your thighs and urging them to part further for him. You allow this passively, your eyes still on Joel’s beautiful naked body only steps away.

Conrad dives into your pussy, giving it sloppy kisses as you arch into his mouth. Conrad is perfectly adept at oral sex, it's just you don't want him. You want the man when the warm eyes that are stuck on your face.

But your body enjoys the sensation of a tongue along your seam, fingers gently thrusting as he tastes you. Joel stands to the side, his cock still hard and weeping. You wish it was in your mouth.

Conrad flicks at your clit with his tongue, drawing a shuddering gasp from you. One that Joel clearly wasn’t anticipating judging by the raise of his brows. Your head tilts back into the pillow and you let the pleasure flood your senses. You can hear Conrad groaning between your thighs, your fingers and toes curling into the mattress as the pleasure builds.

"He making you feel good, baby?" Joel asks his voice tense. His hands are in loose fists at his sides. Even with your eyes closed you can feel him staring at your face. Conrad isn’t even on his radar.

"Mhmm," you answer languidly, hissing slightly when Conrad begins to suck your clit into his mouth. “So good.”

"Better than me?"

Your eyes dart over to Joel and you can see that he regrets it the minute it escapes from him in the flush of his cheeks. An inner thought that snuck its way out between his full lips. Shame that he's shown his insecurity in this room as a younger man desperately sucks and licks your cunt. Humiliation that Joel needs to be the one who makes you feel the best.

Your desire for Joel is overflowing at this point, making your arms reach for him without thought even as Conrad works his mouth against your cunt.

"Want you to do it," you murmur.

Joel's eyes immediately brighten but he tries to subdue his glee. He rocks forth on his heels before stopping himself, giving a quick glance at Conrad between your thighs.

"Nah, honey,” he says shaking his head. "You enjoy yourself. I like seeing my girl feel good."

His girl.

The amount of possessiveness Joel has shown over you tonight is dizzying. It hits you everywhere – your chest, between your legs, your heart. It makes your desire for him capitulate further.

Conrad is so busy between your legs he doesn't even hear the conversation going on between the two of you. He wears your thighs like earrings, his tongue swirling against your clit. He’s good at this, but nowhere near as good as Joel.

"Joel," you croak reaching for him again.

"What is it, baby?"

"It needs to be you," you whimper, hand still outstretched. "Please.”

Joel wastes no time in crossing back over to the bed where he shoves Conrad out of the way roughly with his foot. Conrad tumbles over and can only look on helplessly as Joel spreads your legs over his shoulders and you arch into his mouth. Its only seconds of his masterful touch before you’re shattering around him.

"Mhmm," Joel hums, suckling your clit. "So goddam easy."

"Daddy," you groan as you arch up off the bed. Joel makes a growling noise from between your thighs, tongue penetrating you, lapping up your release as you crest again and again for him, nearly sobbing with the pleasure that runs the length of your body.

Conrad is livid, his normally handsome face contorted into a barely suppressed rage. If he was the type of man to fight you have no doubt he and Joel would be in the middle of a wrestling match. Finally you give one last keen and Joel crawls the length of your body, pressing shiny kisses of arousal all over your body like a debauched trail along your skin. He slides up behind you, wrapping you in his arms as you nuzzle up against him.

“Go to Ibiza, Conrad,” you tell your boyfriend. “Have fun. We’re done.”

“Honey-“ Joel starts, concern written all over his face. But Conrad is irate, his body twitching almost violently.

“Wait, you’re picking this old fuck over me?” Conrad breathes as if he can’t believe what’s happening. His hair is mussed from his time between your thighs and his face is still slick with your arousal. “Some broke carpenter?”

“Yes,” you say without hesitation. “I pick Joel. I’ll always pick Joel.”

You feel Joel’s hand come to squeeze your shoulder gently. You don’t dare look at him for fear that you might start crying.

“And he’s not an old, broke carpenter,” you tell Conrad. “He’s sweet and he’s smart and he’s the best sex I’ve ever had.”

That hits Conrad where it hurts. His eyes dart between you and Joel looking dreamily at one another.

"You're a fucking whore," Conrad seethes.

“Watch it,” Joel warns, going from sweet to serious within a heartbeat. You see the narrowing of his eyes and the squaring of his jaw. It shouldn’t make you wet to see him like this but it does.

"Can't wait to tell Sarah what her best friend and dad are getting up to,” Conrad jeers. “You think she’ll enjoy that? Knowing her best friend is fucking her married father?"

Joel seems to break from his cloud of lust at the sudden mention of his daughter. As if only now he's realizing how terrible things could go. He jerks back from you with terror in his features. He looks to you, confused when you just laugh at Conrad. You laugh so loud and so long that both men just stare at you, transfixed.

Finally you sit up, glorious in your unabashed nakedness.

"Conrad, you tell anyone and I'll go right to the provost and tell him that you cheated that test," you say panting from the previous exertion and the laughter. "I'll tell him how you paid that kid to take your MCAT. Then I'll call your parents parents and tell them about it. And then I'll tell the local newspaper because my parents have friends in high places too, Conrad. I’ll ruin your fucking life if I hear one whisper about me and Joel. A whisper, Conrad."

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

Conrad knows he's fucked. His entire future would be over. His medical school acceptance, his future as the next doctor in his family, the expectations of generations all coming to a halt with him. His lips are white and twisted with rage as he stares at your smirking face. You reach between you and Joel’s body to grab Joel’s hard cock in your hand, giving Conrad a deadly stare as you begin to jerk him off.

"Now leave so I can ride my Daddy’s cock.”

You begin to stroke Joel, your eyes on his handsome face as he stares at you in wonder. His cock twitches in your slick grip, his hips jutting forth into your palm as if he’s hypnotized. He looks like he’s amazed by you.

“Wanna make you come, Mister Miller,” you purr at Joel, turning your back to Conrad and climbing onto Joel’s lap.

“Gonna make me feel good, baby?” Joel asks even though he already knows the answer.

Conrad says nothing more but he does toss the key to your room down angrily to the floor before slamming the door behind him. The second the door is closed Joel’s smile spreads across his face and he slips you onto your back beneath him, pinning you.

"Fucking magnificent," he tells you with a bruising kiss to your swollen lips. “How… Was that the plan the whole time?”

“No,” you laugh shakily. “I can’t… I can’t believe I did that, actually.”

Joel’s smile stretches before snapping back like a rubber band. You watch in confusion as he suddenly sobers, his cock sliding from you as he pulls back, rolling from you and onto his back next to you on the bed. You twist to look at him, tilting onto your side with your hand going to his sternum.

“Are you okay?”

“I can’t believe we did that,” he says in an awed voice. “I… I didn’t even think about the consequences. I fucked you in front of that boy without a thought about my marriage, about Sarah...”

“I know,” you nod, face flaming. You still can’t believe you did that either. Joel’s dark eyes are on your face as he presses his lips together anxiously.

“We’re trouble when we’re together.”

Trouble. That doesn’t feel like the right word. Powerful does. You feel powerful with Joel. You feel safe with Joel. Trouble doesn’t factor into it. But perhaps reckless does.

But there’s something else, something sweet and safe and hidden behind your rib cage. A feeling for Joel that goes beyond lust.

“You broke things off with that boy,” Joel says sharply, as if he’s just realizing what’s gone on in the last hour. “You had a future with that boy.”

“I didn’t,” you say shaking your head. “Conrad wasn’t right for me.”

“He’s your age, he’s rich, he loves you.”

“He’s my age, his parents are rich and he loves himself,” you correct with a soft laugh. “I thought I wanted Conrad for the longest time but, you showed me what’s out there. And I want it. Even if it’s not with you Joel, I want more.”

Joel survey’s the tremble in your chin, the emotion in your eyes as you blink back tears.

“I wish…” you trail off, so many thoughts popping into your head at once.

You wish Joel was younger or that you were older. You wish he wasn’t Sarah’s dad. You wish that he wasn’t married. But not once do you wish you’d never met him. Not once do you wish for anyone else.

Joel strokes along your arm gently with his fingertips, looking deep in thought before speaking suddenly.

"Sarah thinks you're with Conrad in Ibiza this week right?"

"Yeah."

"So come stay with me."

"What?"

"I'll extend my stay at the hotel for a few days," Joel suggests almost shyly. “We give ourselves this week together. Maybe we can get whatever this is out of our system and then we part as friends. It’s the only solution I can think of.”

An entire week with Joel where you don’t have to sneak around? Sleeping with him, eating with him, just being with him? The very thought has you in a tizzy, your heart pounding as you sit up in the bed.

“Are you serious?”

"Only if you want,” Joel says looking suddenly nervous, as if he’s concerned this idea is too spontaneous. “No pressure or anythin’."

You can't stop yourself from launching yourself into his arms pressing frantic kisses to his waiting mouth. His cock, still hard rasps against your belly but you ignore it in favor of a longing kiss before pulling back.

"Yes, of course I want to!"

"Well alright then," Joel says smiling shyly. "Your bag’s already packed so let’s go."

“It’s packed for Ibiza,” you tell him with a roll of your eyes as you move from his arms and off the bed. Men, honestly.

You begin to throw things into a duffel, things you’ll need for a few days at the hotel. Joel watches all of this propped on one arm, his eyes dreamily following your naked form as you hurriedly shove items into the bag. Your eyes suddenly blow wide and you drop the bag at your feet.

“I just realized you never came!” you exclaim with such earnestness that Joel laughs. It’s a rich, warm sound that has you grinning in response.

“Plenty of time for that,” he promises you.

“Well, I need a shower before we go,” you say, holding a hand out to him and urging him to a stand. “What do you say we get clean and dirty at the same time?”

Joel chuckles again, gripping the back of your thighs and hoisting you over his shoulder. He gives your bare ass a slap before he carts you off the shower where he fucks you with intensity against the slick tile, murmuring absolute filth in your ears before coming.

When you both are finally washed and dressed and your suitcase is in your hand you smile up at Joel to find him looking nervously at you. It makes you raise a brow in his direction quizzically, finding yourself melting when he pushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

"You’re allowed to change your mind."

"I'm not gonna change my mind," you promise him, taking his hand in yours. “I want this, Joel.”

His smile is so warm it would rival the sun.

“Me too.”

taglist (my first time doin' em here I hope it works)

@oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @southernbe @katiexpunk @ashleyfilm @sptbear @604to647 @lovelvyxxx @joeldjarin @bluemusickid @magpiepills @mermaidgirl30 @getitoutofmymind

(LEMME KNOW IF YOU WANNA BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST)

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