#this is something I think and worry about too often
Text
but I would die for you in secret
Part 2
summary: The relationship you have with Joel Miller is less complicated now that he’s going to tell Ellie that you’ve been secretly seeing each other for months. You thought their discussion would go well, but when you get home from work to a note on your front door from Joel that reads, ‘Come over, we need to talk,’ it has you immediately thinking the worst—up until he answers his door in nothing but a towel and drags you inside to fuck your brains out for the first time in his bed.
pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader
rating: E (18+!! No y/n, explicit smut, age gap (unspecified, reader is an adult), Possessive Joel Miller, Dominant Joel Miller, Joel Miller has a big dick, oral sex (m receiving), deepthroating (he tells you to choke on it (in a good way)), unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, breeding kink, rough sex, dirty talk (so much), spit mention, biting, spanking, whatever the kink is where you’re turned on by good dads, Joel in just a towel, pregnancy discussion, fluff, the last 3k words in Ellie’s pov (truly delightful), Good Parent Joel Miller, Ellie giving Joel so much shit, Joel giving Ellie shit, Ellie and Joel having the best discussions, TLOU AU where Joel doesn’t lie to Ellie and they’re good when they get back to Jackson)
word count: 11.1k+
a/n: Yes, I did make my own gif because I was too lazy to try and hunt for it. I really, really wanted to write about what happened after the last chapter, and here we are. I think this will be the last one. Thank you to the love of my life @juletheghoul for betaing!
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!
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The sun hadn’t risen when Joel Miller left your bed this morning.
That's how it usually was, him coming and going in the dark so no one sees him leave his house to come to yours across the street—the nights you spend together are bathed in secrecy, the two of you inhabiting your own little world, confined to the space of your home.
Why the sneaking around?
He didn’t want his daughter, Ellie, to know of his relationship with you. Over the many months you’ve been together, he’s let you in on much of what she had gone through before they got to Jackson. You understood that he’s all she has, and he’s worried that if he started openly dating, she’d think she isn’t as important to him as before or feel like Joel’s abandoning her. That’s the main reason he didn't want her to know, but with how often he brings up you being so much younger than him, and all the times he’s said you should be with someone your own age, you felt that he’s also ashamed of how old you are.
At least, that’s what you thought until the night before when he revealed his feelings for you and told you he wasn’t ashamed of you or the large gap in your ages.
When this all began, Joel was clear that all he could give you was his body—he was emotionally unavailable because he was too focused on taking care of Ellie.
Amazing sex with no strings attached? You were okay with that.
Except it wasn’t something casual, and there were strings attached.
You don’t just occasionally hook up with Joel; no, he’s at your place most nights and some days without his daughter knowing. You also can’t go out with anyone else, not that you want to—he doesn’t share or like when other men are interested in you. You aren’t any better, hating when women flirt with him, especially his next-door neighbor Sandra, who refuses to acknowledge he doesn’t want her.
Why does she, specifically, annoy you so much?
Not only does she shamelessly flirt with Joel any chance she gets, but she also touches him, her hand always ending up on his arm that he shrugs off, making him growl at her not to touch him. Does she listen? No, she still does it every time she runs into him, and it pisses you off that she doesn’t respect his boundaries. Plus, there was an incident a couple of months after he moved to Jackson where she got him over to her house under the false pretense of needing something fixed and then basically jumped him—she kissed him without his permission and came onto him, which he was not into and had him leaving immediately. He can’t stand her, and he’s been very firm with her that he’s not interested. If what she does to Joel isn’t bad enough, she creeps the fuck out of Ellie, and that pisses you off even more. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve saved the kid from talking to her; the look on Ellie’s face that screams she wants to be anywhere other than with Sandra makes your hackles rise, and a need comes over you to get the girl out of there as quickly as possible.
Has anything ever happened between Joel and Sandra to make her delusional enough to think if she keeps harassing him and his daughter, he’ll eventually want to be with her?
From what you understand, Tommy and Maria tried to set them up when he first arrived, but he declined; it truly was a case of right place, wrong time. He was polite when he rejected her and explained that his daughter needed him and that he had zero interest in starting a relationship with someone. Back then, he was completely occupied with taking care of Ellie, and dating was out of the question; it didn’t even cross his mind or was something he wanted. He was content with his fresh start in Jackson, alone with his kid to help her heal.
Why did Joel accept your advances the first time you met?
Right place, right time.
Once you moved to town, the father and daughter were settled to the point that Ellie was doing great in adjusting to life in Wyoming, and Joel felt he could finally do something for himself; you were tempting enough that he wanted to be selfish. He liked that you didn’t reek of desperation or made him feel pressured, neither of you doing anything that made the other uncomfortable. Obviously, there was a mutual attraction between you two, and the flirting went both ways; his head was already leaning toward yours when you went in for the first kiss, which he happily reciprocated.
What it came down to was he trusted you, and you were willing to do things on his terms.
And, of course, as it usually happens, feelings did develop—as his kid got better and more comfortable with living in Jackson, Joel opened up to you little by little, offering a tiny bit more of himself with each passing day and your relationship became confusing; it wasn’t only sex anymore; hasn’t been just that for a while, and it took you both over eight months to admit you’re in love, and for Joel to decide it’s time to tell Ellie, so he could actually be with you out in the open.
So, he left your bed before the sun had risen in order to be home before she woke up—that way, she wouldn’t be confused by his absence. He also planned on talking to her about what was going on between you two.
There’s this ritual he does before he leaves each morning that you’ve chalked up to him being from a different time and big on manners; your two previous sexual partners were closer to your age and nowhere near as courteous as him.
The slightest sounds will wake you, a side effect of surviving, and the moment the mattress springs squeak as he gets up, hours before you need to, your consciousness is coming back to you to assess if there’s any danger. Your ears perk at the rustle of him dressing in the dark, and you’ve learned not to spook when the blankets are pulled up to cover your bare body that gets tucked in. The kiss pressed to your hair always makes you smile at the sweetness, and you expect the whispered goodbye he says before he goes.
This morning, you didn’t expect the added ‘Love you’ at the end, which had your eyes opening and hand shooting out from under the covers to grab his, tugging him toward you. He knew what you wanted, chuckling as he leaned down to kiss your lips. You told him you loved him, too, when he straightened and started to leave, and he stopped at the doorway to get one last look at you under the dim light filtering through the gaps in your curtains from the street lamp outside, then headed home.
It’s safe to say your morning started off pretty great, and even though you didn’t see Joel after he left, the rest of your day wasn’t half bad either; it took a little turn when you got back to your house after working your job teaching at the school to a note from him on your door that read:
Come over
We need to talk
A romantic partner saying you needed to talk was never good, and worry knotted up in your belly like a ball, thinking things with Ellie didn’t go well when he told her about your relationship, and now he’s going to break up with you.
The first time you stopped by his place, you’d made the mistake of knocking; he was home alone and hadn’t known you were at the door until you rang the doorbell. It was adorable how he’d been a little embarrassed he didn’t hear you and pointed at his right ear to explain he had hearing loss. From then on, you always made sure to ring the doorbell, and you did so again, standing on his porch in the freezing cold with your winter coat on and worrying your lip between your teeth.
There’s the faint sound of him yelling from inside, “One minute!” thinking he’s upstairs, which is confirmed when you hear his heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. The deadbolt clicks as it’s unlocked, and the door is cracked open; Joel’s face appears, the rest of his body hidden.
He looks relieved to see you, and that’s a good sign. “Thank Christ, it’s you,” he says, opening the door some more to take your hand pulling you inside. The front door gets slammed shut, and your back is suddenly pressed against it, a surprised sound leaving your throat when his mouth crashes into yours, kissing you hard.
This is an even better sign that everything is okay.
He’s never kissed you in his house before.
One of his big palms cradles your face, the other locking the deadbolt beside you before it glides up your jacket-covered front to squeeze your breast. Your lips part to allow his tongue to delve inside and tangle with your own, looping your arms around his neck automatically. This kiss has your brain fritzing out, unable to think about anything except how he’s claimed you with his lips and tongue so fiercely and possessively while his large body cages you in. It’s embarrassing how long it takes a coherent thought to come through, and when it does, you’re lightly pushing at his chest, the surprise of bare skin under your hand causing you to break your mouth away to look at his body immediately.
A disappointed noise comes from him, and your eyes go wide at what you see.
“You’re naked,” you whisper.
His hand lightly holds your throat as he starts kissing along your jaw. “I’m not naked—I’m wearin’ a towel.”
That’s true. The faded blue towel is wrapped tightly around his waist, stopping just before it reaches his knees. His upper body is entirely bare, with pink and silvery scars etched all over his skin. No matter how many times you see him naked, you’re always so surprised by his broadness—it’s not a trick of his clothing or lighting that makes him appear big; he is that big.
“Still pretty naked.” You remember the thought you had. “Is Ellie home?”
“No,” he says into your skin. “She’s with Cat—” Her best friend. “—and they’re meetin’ us for dinner later.” His mouth is at your ear, feeling his hot breath, and shivering when he rasps into it, “Now, stop worryin’ about her, and let me take you up to my room so I can finally fuck you in my bed—I’ve been dyin’ to break it in with you.”
The proposition makes your cunt clench, and you’re interested in seeing his bedroom—he’s never invited you upstairs.
“Is this why you really wanted me to come over, to christen your bed?”
He pulls back to meet your gaze. “Didn’t want to scandalize the neighbors by puttin’ it in writin’, but yes.” His eyes darken as he slowly unzips your coat. “You comin’ up with me?” His voice deepens, nudging his nose against yours. “Since you’re my guest, we’ll do whatever you want.”
Joel always considers what you want, but he also seems instinctively aware of what you need—that’s the great thing about being with someone so much older and experienced; he knows how to play your body and make you feel so good that you’re happy to go along for the incredible ride.
With him saying you’ll do whatever you want, he’s letting you call the shots.
Your eyebrow raises. “Anything?”
“Within reason.” He kisses your chin, your skin tingling under his lips.
“Is there anything we did last night that’s not within reason…?”
The previous night, you weren’t expecting to see Joel because he’d been taking care of a sick Ellie for the prior few days. When he arrived at your place unannounced, he found you trying to make yourself come on your fingers and ordered you to finish as he jerked off, watching you. Then he fucked your brains out until your limbs were jelly and surprised you by asking if he could come inside you—something he avoided in the past and had only accidentally happened a handful of times.
His head moves to look you in the eyes.
“No.” He shakes his head. “It’s all within reason.”
That sentence excites you. “Let’s go,” you say quickly. He chuckles and helps you remove your jacket, hanging it on the nearby coat rack, which only has a few other items.
He grabs your hand and leads you up the stairs, the third step from the top creaking loudly under each of your weights.
You’re not entirely sure what you’re expecting his bedroom to be like, but when you walk into it, you take a moment glancing around at everything; there’s his queen-sized bed that’s neatly made, he’s got a record player over in the corner with a stack of vinyl records next to it, a couple of landscape paintings of pastures decorate his walls, there’s a walk-in closet not even close to full of clothes, his own private bathroom, and on top of his dresser is a few framed photos—one of Ellie playing guitar, beside that, Joel and her standing next to each other laughing. The third has you walking over to pick it up.
“Joel?”
He’s shut the door, and his bare feet pad across the floor, moving toward you.
“Yeah?”
“If you didn’t want Ellie to know about us, why do you have a picture of me and her in your room?”
It was taken at the town party celebrating the harvest and shows Ellie sitting beside you at a table, leaning into you with her head against your shoulder as you both smile at the camera.
“She doesn’t come in here.”
He’s next to you, and you look over at him.
“But what if she had?”
“Wouldn’t have mattered.” He shrugs and takes the photo from you, setting it back down in its spot.
You turn to face him, crossing your arms over your chest, and his eyes lock onto your bosom.
“What do you mean it wouldn’t have mattered?”
It takes him too long to answer, and you realize he’s distracted, so you wave your hand in front of his face. “Focus, Joel.” His gaze goes to yours.
“What?”
“What do you mean it wouldn’t have mattered if Ellie saw the picture?”
“I mean, it wouldn’t have mattered; it wouldn’t have revealed anythin’ she didn’t already know.”
“How long?”
His face pinches in confusion. “Huh?”
“How long has she known about us?”
His hands sit on his hips, and his weight goes to one side, a crease appearing between his eyebrows.
“I don’t want you gettin’ mad at me when I tell you ‘cause I had no idea she was aware; if I’d known, it would’ve been made clear long ago to everyone you’re mine. Understood?”
It’s said with such conviction it leaves zero doubt that it’s the truth, and it feels like your skin is vibrating at the fact he’s really going to make sure all of Jackson knows that you’re together now.
You smile. “God, that’s hot—yes, I understand.”
“Good—she clocked us pretty much from the beginnin’.”
“Of course she did,” you reply. “I had a feeling she’s known for a while, but since the beginning? I am both impressed and very annoyed. Why didn’t she tell you she knew?”
He grimaces. “She thought it was a subject we avoided...” He scrubs a hand over his face and sighs. “I guess I’m cagey when Tess comes up, mostly ‘cause I don’t even know what that relationship was, and since I never said anythin’ about you, she figured we don’t talk about our romantic partners.”
Your eyes round. “Our? Is Ellie dating someone?”
His hand lowers, and he smiles, nodding. “She said I could tell you—Ellie’s way better at the secret girlfriend stuff than I am.”
“Cat?”
His eyebrows dip down. “How’d you know?”
“Ellie looks at Cat the same way you look at me.”
A long sigh leaves him. “So, it’s true.” He sounds defeated, his shoulders slumping.
“What’s true?”
“When she was pointin’ out how obvious we’ve been, she gave me shit for starin’ at you with, she called ‘em ‘googly eyes,’ whatever the fuck that means.”
You snort and step into his space, wrapping your arms around his neck, Joel’s hands holding your hips.
“It’s this way you look at me, and I couldn’t quite figure out what it was until you told me you loved me last night, and I realized it’s love; devotion—your eyes show the truth of what you’re feeling, and good news, babe.”
“What’s that?”
“You can give her shit for having googly eyes like her father.”
That seems to cheer him up, and honestly, it’s cute.
“She’s gonna hate knowin’ that—I can’t wait to tell her.”
You giggle. “So, Ellie’s really okay with us?”
“She is.” He nods.
“Good—this might sound weird.” You can’t look at him as you say this and focus on a patch of freckles on his shoulder, heat creeping up your neck. “But, um, you being a great dad and loving your kids so much—” He’s told you about Sarah. “—really does it for me. There’s something about it that’s incredibly attractive.”
“Yeah?” He ducks his head to press his lips over your pulse point, peppering kisses up your neck; his hand slides down between your legs where your warmth is felt through your jeans, rubbing over your sex. It makes you gulp, excitement sparking in your tummy.
“Yes.”
His mouth reaches your ear, tugging the lobe lightly between his teeth. His warm breath fans against your skin when he hovers his lips to whisper, “I think I know why.“
Your heartbeat thuds in your chest and pulses in your core to the same beat, feeling your need for him drip into your panties.
“W-why?”
He speaks in a huskier tone, “You know that havin’ my babies means they’d get a good father, and you have nothin’ to worry about when I fill your perfect little pussy with my come.”
Pleasure cuts through you sharp as a knife, and you moan.
“Yeah, I know you like it—is that what you want tonight, sweetheart? Want me to stuff you full?”
What he’s saying is making your skin so hot that your clothes are stifling, and you want him more than anything; you need him to ease the ache in your center.
“God, yes.”
“Then I’ll give it to you.”
You’re wondering what’s changed that suddenly has him unbothered about the possibility of getting you pregnant when he actively tried to prevent it previously—something you’ll have to inquire about later because it seems Joel’s had enough talking as his lips capture yours in a searing kiss, and he pulls your body flush against his.
It’s consuming and exhilarating.
No one has ever made you feel the way he does—the all-encompassing fiery passion that has arousal burning like an inferno in your belly, needing him so badly you think you might die if you don’t feel him inside you.
Wouldn’t that be a way to go? Dying of desperation from not getting Joel Miller’s dick—sounds kind of nice compared to the alternatives in today’s world.
You’ve also never been with someone his age.
There was this girl a little older than you that you met on your travels—you don’t find very many friendly people out in the wilds, and she joined you for maybe a week before she headed west toward Seattle. She told you one evening, as you sat by a fire under the stars together, that hands down, the best sex she ever had was with an older guy who was in his early thirties when the outbreak happened. She went on about how generous he was in actually making her come and that he knew exactly what to do; the entire experience was apparently life-changing. She swore she’d never get with anyone younger again, and you were intrigued.
When you asked her if it was weird fucking a guy old enough to be her father, she gave you a funny look, and you’ll never forget what she said:
“Ain’t nothing weird about two consenting adults having a good time.”
She had a point.
When Joel showed up at your door looking so incredibly handsome soon after you moved to Jackson, the conversation with that girl came to mind, and you decided to see if she was right, and dear god, this man in his late fifties has ruined you for anyone else—he was the first person to go down on you, he was the first person other than yourself to get you off, he was the first person to come inside you; the last one was an accident and it shocked you how much the risk turned you on.
You can’t imagine being with anyone else after him.
The kissing heats up, practically all tongues at this point, Joel’s straining cock beneath the towel pressing against you, and it’s always incredibly sexy the way he knows just what you need without you having to say a word—in less than a minute, he's stripped you of all your clothes, and has you on your back in the middle of his mattress, Joel on his knees between your spread legs, and leaning down, with your pebbled nipple sucked between his lips.
He has both of your breasts in his hands while he laves at one and then the other, the nibble of his teeth on the sensitive buds causing your pussy to weep for him, your fingers clutched in his damp, grey hair.
"Oh my god, Joel," you moan.
He loves worshipping your tits, and if you let him, he’ll play with them for hours; the problem is today, you’re on a time crunch since you have dinner plans, and you want a chance to make him feel good, too.
Your hands tug on his messy waves to get his attention, saying, "Let me suck your dick."
His head lifts, and you're met with dark eyes, his lips shiny with spit. The cool air hitting your wet skin causes goosebumps to rise.
"You want my dick in your mouth?" he asks.
“Yes, please.”
“Okay.” He grunts as he pushes himself up to kneel. He’s still wearing the towel, which is tenting in the front.
You eagerly sit up and get on your knees, shuffling toward him, and when you’re close enough, he can’t seem to help himself, his palms holding your face as he passionately kisses you. Your hands snake between your bodies to unwrap the towel around his waist, tossing it to the side without a care, and you wrap your fingers around his length that’s hard as steel and velvety smooth, feeling hot to the touch.
He nips at your bottom lip when he ends the kiss, and without another word, you’re moving back enough to get on all fours, holding your weight on one arm while your other hand grips around the base of him, and then he’s in your mouth—his girth has you opening as wide as you can, your lips stretching to their limit. He’s heavy on your tongue, taking more and more of him as you bob your head.
“That’s it, baby,” he groans. “Fuckin’ love that mouth of yours.”
Saliva is dribbling down his shaft, lubricating every stroke of your palm over what can’t fit in your mouth, his large hand guiding your head up and down his dick.
“Spit on it,” he commands. You hover your lips over him, gathering saliva on your tongue, and looking up at him through your lashes as you let it drip onto the tip of him—his pupils are blown so wide, there’s hardly any brown remaining, a gorgeous pink flush crawling up his chest and neck to paint his stubbled cheeks.
He’s watching you, his chest rumbling when you take him back into your mouth and fondle his sack in your palm.
When you first met, you were pretty inexperienced when it came to sex—you’d only slept with two men, and it hadn’t been very pleasurable on either occasion. Then Joel came along and showed you how good it could be and let you experiment to figure out what you did and didn’t enjoy. He also walked you through what he liked, which is why you know how he’s going to respond as you suck him off and gently tug on his balls. “Fuucckk,” he says in a drawn-out moan, and it has electricity dancing down your spine that you’re making him feel so good.
You go back to jerking him, your hand moving easily, twisting on the upstroke along his spit-slick cock, while bobbing your head, feeling him slide along the broad flat of your tongue to hit the back of your throat—you’re making appreciative noises that vibrate against his skin, loving him in your mouth, and how vocal he is in his enjoyment, Joel groaning, his breaths getting heavier, and slowly thrusting his hips.
You come off of him, licking a stripe from root to tip, tracing a bulging vein with your tongue, and circling the sensitive edges of the head. His cock throbs in your hand as you hold it out of the way to go lower and suck one of his balls into your mouth, massaging it with your tongue before giving the second the same treatment.
His voice is a deep baritone, the words thick with desire. “You’re so fuckin’ good to me.”
Licking back up, you swirl around the tip and sink down again, hollowing your cheeks.
His hand easily covers yours low on his shaft to keep it and himself still, his other palm going to the back of your head. “Choke on it, baby—take it down that pretty throat.”
This time when he fills your mouth and hits the back of your throat, you relax, swallowing around him, taking as much of him into the tight space as you can, and there’s enough of him that won’t fit for your fingers to wrap around—his other hand clutches your hair as he keeps your head from moving, your eyes watering, drool spilling from the corners of your lips, while his hard cock fills your throat. You’re doing the best you can to breathe through your nose.
He’s panting. “That’s fuckin’ it—so fuckin’ beautiful with my dick down your throat.” His fingers go around your neck to feel it bulge. “You love havin' my cock fillin' you, don’t you? Your pussy, your throat, you're hungry for it and can't get enough 'cause no one can make you feel as good as I do, isn’t that right?” You moan in agreement, his shaft pulsing on the flat of your tongue. “God, you make the prettiest noises for me.”
You swallow around him, and his punched-out groan has your cunt clenching hard on nothing, a layer of slick coating your inner thighs.
“Stop,” he orders, pulling you off of him and causing you to sputter. “I’m not comin’ in your mouth.”
The statement has a sharp spike of arousal erupting low in your stomach because you know this means he’s going to finish inside you, and it has you wanting him with every fiber of your being.
He gets you up on your knees, holding your chin as he smashes his lips to yours, his tongue slipping inside where he sucks on your own. Your heart is hammering in your chest, moaning as the fingers of his free hand pinch and roll your stiff nipple, and you’re trying to convince your lungs that you’ll be okay without oxygen for another minute when his mouth suddenly leaves yours. Your chin is still cradled in his palm, Joel’s breaths coming out hard as he shoves his face against the side of yours and lightly bites the apple of your cheek before his lips are at your ear.
The sides of your faces are touching, his stubble prickling against your skin. “Now what?” he asks. Anticipation has you practically vibrating. “You got to suck my dick, what do you want now? You’re in charge—my fingers? Want me to eat your pussy? Or my cock without me loosenin’ you up so you’ll feel it tomorrow?” He smacks your ass with his other palm, and you gasp. “Tell me.”
Joel is very well-endowed, especially in terms of girth, and he’s aware of this fact; unless you tell him not to, he always gets you off before he fucks you, so it relaxes your muscles and makes it easier to take him. Right now, you need him inside you too much to have the patience for any more foreplay, so be it if you’re a little uncomfortable tomorrow.
You swallow before you answer. “Dick, please.”
“How do you want it?”
“Your choice.”
“You got it, baby.”
He grabs a handful of your asscheek, then gives it a spank and kisses your cheek, letting go of your chin to slide his fingers through the slick lips of your sex, his face coming into your line of sight.
It’s clear in his darkened eyes how much he wants you.
“You get so fuckin’ wet for me,” he says and presses two thick fingers inside you, your mouth falling open when he starts pumping. The tips press into something magical you can never reach, no matter how many times you try. “This needy pussy can’t get enough of my dick,” he continues. “You want it? Want me to stretch you open? Make you feel it tomorrow and come so deep in your sweet little cunt I’m drippin’ from you for days?”
He has you feeling so hot you think you might combust.
“Yes.”
A quick kiss is pressed to your lips. “Hands and knees,” he orders, slipping his fingers out of you.
His way of helping you get into position is manhandling you until your hands and knees sink into the mattress with him behind you—he fucked you hard face down, ass up the night before, and you’re wondering if he’s going to give you an encore.
His fingers dig into your asscheeks as he spreads them and spits on your pussy, feeling the hot saliva start to drip, and hearing him repeat the action on his digits, that he uses to wet his cock. Joel slides himself through your folds and presses to your entrance, your hips pushing back enough to engulf the tip of him—a palm lands on your ass with a loud smack, the sting causing your head to fall forward between your shoulders with a moan, his other hand firm on your waist to stop your movements.
“Don’t be greedy,” he grumbles, slapping your ass again. “I gotta go slow so I don’t hurt you.”
You whine because you want him inside you already.
“You’re real fuckin’ needy today,” he says and slowly begins pushing in. There’s a slight burn as your tight walls stretch around him to accommodate his size, the ache in your core dissipating with every inch he feeds into your pussy. “Jesus Christ,” his tone is strained. “You’re so much tighter when I don’t make you come first—you’re chokin’ me.” Your fingers are clawing at the bedspread, your heart’s pounding, and sweat is starting to bead on your skin. There’s one word repeating over and over in your head: Big.
He takes his time; the seconds that tick by feel like hours, and once he’s fully sheathed inside you, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding in—the familiar fullness satisfies the overwhelming need you had and has something purring in the back of your mind that this is right; it’s perfect how he fills you. He was right; there’s no one else on the entire planet who could satisfy you like he does.
His large palm slides halfway up your spine. “You’re doin’ great for me, baby,” he rasps. “Takin’ me so well. Now, I’m gonna make you feel good.”
And the fact you know he is has your cunt throbbing incessantly around him.
His hands hold your waist, and he does an experimental thrust, your answering moan encouraging him to start moving—he’s slow at first, rocking his hips and letting you feel every ridge and vein on his thick cock as it moves in and out of you.
He’s pressing into heavenly spots you didn’t know existed before him, loving how deep in your depths he reaches. The waves of arousal he’s coaxing from you is soaking his dick and easing his movements.
“God, I love bein’ inside you,” he says and slaps your ass; you clamp down on him, and he groans. “You feel so damn good—fit me like a fuckin’ glove.”
You fuck yourself back on him as you whine, “It’s yours!”
He grits through his teeth, “Yes. It. Is.” Punctuating each word with a hard thrust that knocks the wind from your lungs. “It’s. Mine. You’re mine.”
His rhythm speeds up, a steady slap of his hips against yours that echoes in the room, Joel grunting with each stroke and your moans coming unbidden. Your ass is jiggling from the onslaught, your head is dizzy with pleasure, and heat is growing at the base of your spine, threatening to explode.
This is how you like it, getting fucked senseless.
You squeak in surprise when gun-calloused fingers grip your upper arms at the bend of your elbows and pull you up, making you arch your back, Joel tugging you back each time he thrusts forward, pounding into you hard enough your eyes roll back in your head, and your mouth opens in a silent cry—his rough sounds are slipping through his bared teeth and obscene squelching is coming from where he’s fucking into you at an unforgiving pace.
You’re quivering around him, your entire body shaking, quaking, as he pummels a spot that’s making stars dance behind your eyelids, the muscles in your belly tightening, winding, building you up higher and higher. Your skin is hot and buzzing like every nerve in your body is lit up, a thin layer of sweat coating the entirety of it.
His breathing is ragged, and he grits out the question, “Are you gonna come for me?” He doesn’t slow down. “I can feel you squeezin’ me—I know you’re close.”
His hands have an iron grip on you. Noise finally leaves your lips in stuttered moans, and you’re losing your mind at how fucking good it feels—you’re not going to last much longer.
“Once you go,” he says, “you’re takin’ me with you, and I’m fillin’ you up.”
The reminder has white-hot pleasure scorching in your abdomen, and you’re coming undone, shouting his name as your climax hits and euphoria takes over every molecule in your body.
A choked sound comes from behind you, and you get pulled back flush to him, Joel’s arm locking over your chest with his hand squeezing one of your tits while the other wraps around your throat, his lips pressing to your ear as he raggedly groans “There we fuckin’ go.” His teeth sink into your earlobe as his hips stutter, and he buries himself one last time as far as he can in your depths, whining as he comes—his cock pulses and twitches hard as he releases deep inside you, spurts and spurts of his come filling your inner walls.
There’s a chance you’ve left Earth with how you feel like you’re floating, your brain completely empty of thoughts—you’re not sure you could think if you even tried, let alone move.
You register being laid down on your side and the warm body curling around your back; an arm is over your middle, and your breast is being held in a large palm, feeling so relaxed you think you might fall asleep.
A minute passes.
Five.
Ten.
There’s a loud snore behind you.
“Joel?” It’s embarrassing how it comes out as a croak.
No response—of course, there’s no response, his left ear is pressed to the mattress, and he can barely hear out of the right. You rub your hand along his arm and lightly tap it.
He goes eerily quiet, and you know he’s awoken, but he’s taking a second to assess where he is. Joel sits up a little. “Somethin’ wrong, honey?”
Your torso slightly twists toward him, looking over your shoulder. His eyes are filled with concern when they meet yours.
“Nothing’s wrong,” you reassure him and pat his forearm. “You fell asleep, and we can’t be late meeting Ellie. Otherwise, she’ll come looking for us, and we don’t need to scar the poor girl with her finding out her dad has a very active sex life.”
He snorts, his lips turning up. “She’s not dumb—she knows why I’m at your place every night.”
“She assumes the reason you come over—it’s one thing to assume and another to know for sure, and the second one, when it happens, will probably make her puke and then look at you with disgust for a while.”
He frowns, and you can tell he’s thinking hard. “I never brought women around Sarah…” he says. “I mean, when she was older, she knew, on the incredibly rare occasions I did, that I was goin’ on dates, but that was all. I never had long-term girlfriends.”
That’s something you’re aware of. He’s told you about some of his previous relationships, including Tess. When he was younger, before the world ended, he only had a few girlfriends that didn’t last long and a lot of one-night stands; Sarah’s mom was a fling in his early twenties who disappeared as soon as their daughter was born—she didn’t want to be a mother at such a young age, and only had the baby because she couldn’t stand the guilt of the alternative.
“Oh, so Ellie knowing me and being aware we’re together is new territory for you. How does that make you feel?”
“Real fuckin’ lucky I found someone she likes and who understands that she’s my top priority—the other women I dated couldn’t stand playin’ second fiddle to Sarah even though I was always upfront that she came first before anyone else, the same thing I told you from the get-go about Ellie.”
“And that makes complete sense to me. I know I’m important to you, but it’s different; she’s your child, who you’re responsible for, so she takes precedence. After all the shit she’s been through, it’s great she found a father who loves and cares about her so much.”
He smiles. “And that’s one of the reasons I fell in love with you—you get it and were more than willin’ to be with me in secret to protect her.”
You smirk. “True, it didn’t hurt that the sex is fucking spectacular, too.”
He chuckles, and you find yourself on your back with him half on top of you, happily kissing you.
Your words are muffled against his lips. “I need to ask you something.”
There’s one last kiss, then his pretty face hovers over yours.
“What do you wanna ask that’s more important than me kissin’ you?”
“Something that I need to know after everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours.”
His mouth downturns, and his eyebrows furrow. “Is somethin’ wrong…?”
“No, no, everything’s great,” you tell him and slide your fingers through the curls above his ears. “Has your feelings on children changed? Like, in terms of having more…?”
From the beginning, he was clear that he didn’t want any more kids, and it stressed him out whenever he accidentally finished inside you; you’d think that would put him off sleeping with you again, but he couldn’t stay away, and told you, when asked what would happen if you got pregnant, that you’d figure it out and you didn’t need to worry about him abandoning you—the last part always made you wonder how he’d be involved in your baby’s life with Ellie unaware you were together, and the only thing you could imagine was out in public, Joel taking on the role of your close friend your child calls their uncle, which is pretty depressing to think about.
He’s got an arm beside your head, holding himself up, and his other palm strokes along your cheek, his eyes softening.
“A lot has changed since I met you—you’ve turned my world on its head, sweetheart.” He smiles. “I know I swore I’d never bring another life into this world after losin’ Sarah, but Ellie came along, and I love gettin’ to be a dad again.” The fond look on his face is proof of that. “I really do. She’s a pain in my ass, but I love her, and now that we’re done hidin’ and can finally have a life with everyone knowin’ we’re together, there won’t be any doubt that it’s my baby if you got pregnant.”
Something about that excites you that he wants it to be clear he’s the father of your kid—for a second, you imagine what a child with him would look like, and it makes your heart squeeze at the thought of seeing tiny versions of his eyes and cheeks; would they inherit his elusive dimple?
“I know I’m too fuckin’ old to be takin’ care of a newborn,” he continues, “but I like the idea of havin’ one with you, and I think you’d love it. You’re so good with Ellie and all those little kids you teach. I can tell you want one of your own, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
He smiles.
“Yeah, you do. You’d be a great mom. When I realized I was gonna talk to Ellie the other day and tell her about us, I thought this was somethin’ I could give you; it’s some kind of future, maybe not what you deserve, but it’s what I can offer. And it’s reassurin’ you’re gonna live a helluva lot longer than I will, so I know that if anythin’ happens to me, my children will still have their mother, along with Ellie, who I think would love bein’ a sister. So, to answer your question, yes, my feelings on havin’ more children has changed, but only with you—you’re the only woman I’d want to have a baby with.”
This revelation has you beyond excited—you’d love to have a child with him.
“It’s crazy that yesterday I didn’t know how to define what our relationship was—I knew I loved you, I just wasn’t sure if you felt the same, and today, we’re officially a couple and talking about having babies. At this rate, I’ll be moving in with you tomorrow.”
“Do you wanna?” he asks, looking completely serious.
Your eyes widen as you stare. “What? I was joking, Joel.”
“And I’m not jokin’, especially about havin’ you here all the time. I don’t want us livin’ separately if we do the baby thing, and you know I’m almost done remodelin’ the garage out back into an apartment for Ellie.”
Joel was pretty upset the night he came over after Ellie asked about having her own living space. It happened two or three months into seeing each other, and he’d been distraught that she was at an age where she wanted more independence and didn’t want to spend as much time with him now that she had friends—something else he never got to experience with Sarah and it really twisted the knife in his gut. There was no way the town council would give a teenager a house, so Joel agreed to convert the garage into an apartment for her.
“Are we moving too fast?” you ask.
When you say out loud everything that’s happened in the last day and your plans for the near future, it sounds like you’re moving too fast, but it doesn’t feel that way.
His eyebrow rose. “Baby, we could die tomorrow. Life these days is too fuckin’ uncertain to be worryin’ about movin’ too fast, and we should do what makes us happy.”
He’s right, and it isn’t a bad idea…
“I’ll only agree to move in if Ellie says it’s okay.”
Your response has Joel chuckling as he kisses you.
“Wait, I have another question,” your words are said into his lips.
His mouth breaks away from yours as he sighs and presses his forehead to yours.
“I love you more than anythin’, but can I please kiss you without interruptions?”
“If you answer this question, we can make out—with tongue.”
His head lifts, and he looks confused. “It’s not makin’ out if there isn’t tongue.”
“Do you wanna make out or not?”
His expression turns grumpy. “Yes, so ask your damn question.”
“What would you have done if you opened the door in just your towel, and it was Sandra instead of me?”
“I would’ve shut the fuckin’ door—now kiss me. I was promised tongue.”
Snow.
So much fucking snow.
Ellie hated winter in Boston, but Jackson? It’s a new kind of hell with how much of the freezing, white bullshit falls from the sky to blanket everything. On the days when she’s assigned the job of shoveling walkways down the main streets of the town, she wishes the bite on her arm had done her in—a dark thought, yes, but that’s how much she despises doing it.
The only positive thing about getting sick was not having to work; the biggest negative was Joel and how he was worrying so much he wouldn’t leave her the fuck alone. Yeah, it’s sweet, or whatever, that he cares so much, but this guy literally watched her sleep—he sat at the window seat in her room every night to keep an eye on her, and if she woke up, which happened a lot from the coughing, he was there at the side of her bed asking if she needed anything, and touching her forehead to check her temperature.
Thank god, his secret girlfriend came by when she did because Ellie was so close to stabbing him if he asked her how she was feeling one more time; her friends kept her sane the next day when they checked in on her, and luckily, by then she was pretty much over her sickness, and Joel had finally started to chill the fuck out.
That night, she thankfully got to sleep alone in her room, and it wasn’t surprising when she heard the third step down the staircase loudly creak—she’d tried everything, and there was no way to step on it without it making noise—a sign Joel was going across the street.
Oh, Ellie figured out something was going on between Joel and their across-the-street neighbor not too long after she moved in.
What tipped Ellie off was one day she was walking home after work and had almost arrived at their house when she saw the two of them chatting at her and Joel’s front door. Nothing fishy about that, right? Wrong. Joel was smiling as he spoke to the woman, and it wasn’t one of his fake, polite smiles he does when he’s trying to make himself look less scary and somewhat approachable; no, this was a genuine smile, with some teeth showing, and a rare sighting of the dimple in his cheek—it makes her gag to even think this, but she’d call the smile, charming.
Yuck.
Who wants to think about the guy that’s basically their dad trying to charm someone?
Disgusting.
If the smile wasn’t suspicious enough, the moment he spotted Ellie, it suddenly disappeared—why wouldn't Joel want her seeing him being so friendly with the new neighbor? Probably because he was hiding something; she’ll admit it also could’ve been so she didn’t tease him about having a crush, but the thing is, she wouldn’t have, which is really fucking surprising with how much shit she gives him.
See, she’s not stupid; she knows Joel’s made taking care of her his life’s purpose since they left Boston and that he loves her as if she were his own kid; not to get mushy, but she loves the grumpy fucker, too, and she wants him to be happy, like she is—he’s the reason her life is so good now, and it was time that he did something that’d make him happy. So, Ellie isn’t going to be a dick about him putting himself out there because she doesn’t want to discourage him.
Once Ellie was onto them, it was so freaking obvious that they were a thing—anytime they ran into the neighbor, Joel actually talked to her, instead of his usual one to two-word responses, he gave everyone else who wasn’t Ellie or Tommy. Joel always watched her if she was nearby and went over to her house the moment she asked him to fix something or help her—Ellie’s pretty sure a lot of the tasks were bullshit, and it was their excuse to see each other. Then there’s the damning evidence of Joel sneaking out almost every night; there was a night she got to a window in time to see him sticking to the shadows as he made his way across the street, and it confirmed everything.
He was pretty hush about his relationship with Tess—they’ve discussed her in general, and Ellie knows they had some kind of relationship; she’s just not sure if they were, you know, dating or in love. So, with Joel keeping quiet about what he’s got going on with their young neighbor, Ellie assumed he was just a private guy when it came to that stuff, and it was something they didn’t talk about, figuring if things got serious enough, he’d bring it up.
And hey, she’s hinted that she knows by inviting his secret girlfriend to eat and do stuff with them; Ellie’s even attempted to get the older woman to admit they’re together, but she wouldn’t break, no matter how hard the teen tried.
Then Ellie accidentally overslept at her girlfriend’s this morning and didn’t make it home before Joel, and now they’re both aware of the other’s love life. She won’t lie; it made her unbelievably happy that he didn’t give a single fuck she was dating a girl—he had more of a reaction to her getting a tattoo than her telling him she had a girlfriend, and she’s glad he didn’t make a big deal about it, not that she thought for a minute he wouldn’t be cool with her being with a lady since he was chill when she told him she didn’t like boys not too long after they got to Jackson; plus, the guy was really good friends with Bill and Frank, after all—he’s told her he’s glad she never got a chance to meet Bill because apparently, they would’ve caused a lot of trouble together and possibly taken over the world, which sounded pretty fucking great to her.
The snow crunches under her boots as she walks down the road on their way to the mess hall, her girlfriend, Cat, beside her, chatting about their days. Since she recovered from being sick yesterday, she had to go back to work today, and thankfully, she was assigned an easy job—animal feeding duty, which is both easy and fun.
“Shit, it’s Sandra!” Ellie hisses, grabbing Cat’s hand, “Hide!” She tugs the other girl behind a giant snow-covered bush. She peeks around it, seeing the bane of her and Joel’s existence walking up the street from the opposite direction, probably heading to the mess hall for dinner, too. The other woman is pretty far away, but Ellie doesn’t want to risk her seeing them.
“Why do we avoid Sandra again?” her girlfriend asks.
Ellie’s head turns her way; Cat’s wearing a purple beanie and an oversized navy blue coat, her dark eyes meeting Ellie’s. “God, where to start,” she says and takes a deep breath. “So, when we first moved here, Tommy and Maria tried to get Joel to go out with Sandra since they thought she was a great match for him—she’s also from Texas, pretty, widowed, and has no kids. Anyways, they tried to set them up, but Joel didn’t want to go out with her or anyone else. He was super polite when he turned her down. I guess Sandra took that as him playing hard to get, and she hasn’t left him alone since.”
“So, you avoid her, too…?”
“Oh, right—she wants to be my mom.”
“What…?”
“Yeah, every time she talks to me alone, she likes to bring up how I could use a mom, or wouldn’t it be great if I had one to take care of me and my dad—” Ellie makes a face. “—it’s always so fucking weird calling Joel that out loud.” He pretty much is her dad and she won’t correct anyone who refers to him as such, but to her, he’s Joel. “I think when she says that creepy stuff, she’s trying to get me to convince Joel to date her, but we both agree she’s nuts. Like, I overheard Joel talking to Tommy once, and apparently, some months after we got here, she came over to our house and asked if he could fix something at hers, and he went because Joel might be a bit of a grumpy dick, he’s still a good guy, and she kissed him and was all over him—you get the picture—and he got the fuck out of there, and isn’t as polite when he tells her to leave him alone now.”
“He’s made it clear he’s not interested, and she still won’t get the hint…? Does she know there are other single men in town…?”
“She only has eyes for Joel. I don’t think she’s used to men rejecting her, so now it’s her goal to get him. I mean, she’s persistent. If she sees me or him together or separately, she always talks to us; it’s awkward, and I have to tell you it’s disturbing watching someone flirt with Joel so hard—she’s not subtle at all. It’s honestly weird, and Joel is completely over it. I just don’t get why so many women in this town are into his old ass.”
Ellie has witnessed many women shoot their shots with Joel and get turned down, which is another thing that gave him and his girlfriend away—they never openly flirted, but there is a lot of friendly touching, which is out of character for Joel. The first time Ellie saw Joel open a door and guide the other woman inside with a hand on her back, she had to bite her tongue to stop herself from yelling, ‘Aha!’
“It makes no sense to me,” she continues. “This dude’s old enough to be my grandpa, he’s only got one good ear, he’s weird looking, and after a few days not showering, his feet smell so fucking bad you’ll want to chop your nose off—I swear the only reason we didn’t run into more infected while traveling is because Joel’s disgusting stench scared them away.”
Cat snorts. “You’ve mentioned how bad he smelled a lot.”
“Yeah, well, I can’t un-smell him, and it fucking haunts me.” She shudders. “Now, back on topic, Sandra creeps Joel and me the fuck out, and I’m positive his secret girlfriend would’ve murdered her by now if she wasn’t a secret.”
“Hopefully, Sandra will back off now that Joel’s relationship is no longer a secret.”
“That’d be so nice, but I’m not getting my hopes up.”
“I know you’ve never said anything, but does it bother you how young his girlfriend is?”
Ellie’s eyebrows furrow. “Why would it bother me?” she asks. “She’s an adult and can do whatever she fucking wants. I mean, I don’t understand why she’d willingly choose to be with such an old, ugly, grumpy man, but that’s her deal, and she’s pretty cool. I’m just glad Joel got with someone I like and get along with.” A horrible thought comes to her. “God, imagine if he had started dating Sandra, and I had to pretend to like her and not be weirded out by her trying to be my mom? Yeah, who gives a fuck that his girlfriend is closer to my age than his, she’s not weird and makes him happy, and that’s all that matters.” Something pops up in her brain, and she smiles. “Oh my god, Cat—” She grabs the other girl’s arm and shakes it in excitement. “—what if they had a kid? I could be a sister!” That’d be amazing. She’s always wanted a sibling. Her hands go still, and her eyebrows pull together; she’s lost feeling in the tip of her nose with how cold it is. “Wait,” she starts, “is Joel too old to have a baby? Like, I mean his stuff—” She gags. “—you know what I’m talking about. Does it go bad with age? He’s really fucking old.” Cat’s trying hard not to laugh, her gloved palm over her mouth, and Ellie shoves a finger at her. “Don’t make fun of me for not knowing! What I learned in school was pretty basic, so I know how babies are made—revolting, by the way—there’s just a lot of shit they didn’t explain in detail, and don’t get me started on the awkward as fuck conversation Joel tried to have with me when I started hanging out with Dina and Jesse.” Jesse was the first boy her age she befriended in Jackson.
“The one where in the middle of him telling you boys will say anything to get into your pants, you shouted that you didn’t like boys?”
“Ugh, yes, and then he asked me if I liked girls, and I wasn’t completely sure, so I answered maybe, and he said—” She lowers her voice to try and mimic his. “‘Well, shit, I don’t know what the sex talk is for my daughter likin’ girls’—” She spoke normally again, “You know what, I’m actually impressed with what he pulled out of his ass.” He ensured she really understood what consent is and walked her through what a healthy relationship is supposed to look like.
“To answer your question, Joel isn’t too old to have a kid.”
Ellie grins. “Wicked.” She looks around the bush to check if the coast is clear. “Looks like she’s gone. Let’s get out of here.”
When they get to the mess hall, the mood is… weird.
There’s a lot of whispering and people sneaking looks in the same direction. It only takes her a second to figure out what’s stealing everyone’s attention, and her nose crinkles at the sight.
“Cat?” She’s still staring, the other girl standing beside her.
“Yeah?”
“Am I seeing things, or is Joel really playing tonsil hockey with his not-so-secret girlfriend at our table?”
“Um, I can’t tell if they’re using tongue, but they’re definitely kissing.”
That’s obvious—the man and woman are sitting next to each other on one side of the table with their coats off, their upper bodies turned toward one another, and faces mashed together, Joel’s massive hand holding the side of her head.
“It’s weird feeling both happy for him and wanting to puke simultaneously.”
“I get it. Wanna see something that will make you feel better?”
She glances at her. “What is it?”
Cat nods her head toward a table. “Look.”
Her attention goes to where she indicated, finding Sandra clearly pissed off and glaring daggers at the couple making out, her hand clutching a fork so tight her knuckles are white.
Ellie is delighted and pulls Cat along to join Joel and his girlfriend.
“Please tell me,” she says, as they get to the table and start removing their gloves and jackets, “that you guys are being disgusting right now for the audience and that this won’t be a regular thing.”
Their mouths detach, Joel’s arm around the woman’s back while resting his other hand on the tabletop. There were trays of food for all four of them at each of their seats Joel must’ve gotten, Ellie noticing it was chili and cornbread night. The man looks at her with a close-lipped smile.
“It won’t be a regular thing—” he replies.
“—thank god,” she interrupts and sits down, Cat joining her.
“—in front of you,” he continues.
“That’s fine by me.”
He grabs his small bowl of dessert and slides it over to her.
“Peach cobbler!” she exclaims. “Fuck yeah!”
Not to be sentimental, but Ellie knows that every night they have dinner, and Joel passes her his dessert so she’ll have two, it’s him saying without words that he loves her—that’s just how they are; they suck at speaking their feelings, so they show how much they care for the other with random things like that.
“Thanks, Joel!” She ignores the chili and slice of cornbread and immediately starts digging into one of the cobblers.
“You’re welcome, Ellie—what took you guys so long? We were expectin’ you to be here before us.”
“We had to hide,” she says around a bite—it tastes so fucking good; peach cobbler is her favorite.
Joel's expression turns to one of concern. “Who the hell were you hidin’ from?”
Their girlfriends had started eating.
She swallows, giving him a look. “Who do you think?” She juts her thumb behind her. “Miss Crazypants over there, who—” She turns in her seat to find Sandra still looking pissed. “—might be Miss Murderpants now.”
“Stop starin’ and pointin’,” Joel hisses, and she faces him again.
Ellie rolls her eyes. “The woman annoys the fuck out of us, and you’re telling me not to be rude to her? A bit hypocritical, seeing as you’re clearly rubbing it in her face that you’re seeing someone.”
His jaw clenches. “That’s different.”
Her eyebrows dip together. “What?”
He adjusts in his chair to lean forward a little and starts whispering, “I want her to see us, so she’ll get the hint and leave us the fuck alone—I also want the whole town buzzin’ about me bein’ in a relationship tomorrow.”
“The first part of that, I get; the second bit, you lost me. It’s not like you to want to be the subject of town gossip.”
He straightens and picks up his spoon. “Don’t worry about it, and eat.”
That’s Joel speak for, ‘I’m done discussing this topic.’
“Okay, you fuckin’ weirdo,” she mumbles and takes another bite.
There’s some talking as they eat between all four of them. Joel seems incredibly interested in Cat’s hobby of tattooing people, which Ellie guesses is because she told him she was getting one. He’s probably just ensuring it’ll be safe and that she won’t have to worry about infections or whatever else could go wrong.
Ellie has completely demolished all the food on her tray and is stuffed, taking a big gulp of her water. She sets the cup down.
“So,” she begins, “how serious is this?” She points between the couple across from her. “Is this a fling? Is she moving in? Are you guys getting married? What can I expect?”
Joel swallows and wipes his mouth with a napkin, which he clutches in his fist as he lays it on the table.
“It’s serious,” he says. “We wanted to talk to you about her movin’ in.”
She figured that would be the case with how much time they spend together at night. Ellie’s not against the idea, but she also does not under any circumstance want to know what they do when they’re alone. She has an idea; she’s not dumb. She just prefers not having any solid evidence.
Ellie pushes her tray forward and crosses her arms on the tabletop.
“Here’s the deal: I’ll be fine with her moving in under one condition.”
He looks curious. “What’s that?”
“Whatever you guys do alone in the bedroom happens when I’m not home; I don’t wanna hear shit, I can’t unhear, and I absolutely do not want to see anything I can’t unsee. It’ll only have to be like that until you finish my apartment.”
He seems to be thinking it over. “Deal.”
“You assholes gonna get married?”
“We haven’t discussed that yet.”
His girlfriend says, “I’m okay with marriage.”
Joel’s head whips her way, and he genuinely looks surprised.
“Really?” he asks.
Ellie snorts because the other woman is looking at him like he’s dumb. “Yeah,” she answers. “What about you?”
“I’m okay with it also.”
“Great.” She smiles.
It’s nice to see Joel so happy and to know he’s found someone. She always worried he’d die alone; sure, he’d have her, but he deserved to be loved by someone and to get good things after all of the shit he’s been through in his long fucking life.
She glances over at Cat, who’s scraping her spoon along the inside of her dessert bowl to get whatever of the cobbler is left. She’s staring at it so intently that Ellie thinks she looks adorable, and it makes her smile.
“Oh, are those the ‘googly eyes’?” she hears Joel ask the woman beside him.
“Yep,” his girlfriend answers.
Cat takes her last bite and asks them while chewing, “What are ‘googly eyes’?”
Joel sounds a little too happy, “It’s how Ellie looks at you.”
Ellie quickly turns toward him. “I don’t have ‘googly eyes’!”
She wants to wipe the smug smile off of his stupid face. “Yes, you do.”
“No, you’re lying!”
He puts a hand over his heart. “God’s honest truth, baby girl, you stare at her with ‘googly eyes.’”
Her cheeks feel hot, and she wants the floor to swallow her whole. “This is so embarrassing.” She doesn’t want to talk about this anymore and remembers something.
Joel’s smiling. “It’s cute.” He starts drinking his water.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m cute, whatever,” she says, swatting away his words with her hand. She focuses on him, leaning over her arms on the table. “You know what would be really cute, now that you’ve got a girlfriend, and I think it’s still possible at your age, you’re pretty fucking old, though, but if it is possible, it’d be really cute if you guys had a baby.” She grins and nods her head.
Joel sputters and starts coughing hard. It takes him a moment to speak, and the look on his face is a mixture of confusion and anger.
“The hell do you mean if it’s possible at my age?!” he rumbles. ”I’m fifty-eight, not dead!”
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#pedro pascal#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller/reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller/you#joel miller x you#wheresarizona writes#biwdfyis series
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Sleepy Whispers - Art Donaldson
Request: cuddling with art, I see him talking about his and reader's future, how he'd definitely be a girl dad and he'd totally spoil his little princess and just major fluff yk, art's getting sleepy and reader’s just playing with his hair
i really hope y’all like this one, i love writing this kind of fluff and i just know art would be the cutest in a situation like this:’)
Pairing: Art Donaldson x Female!Reader
Warnings: talk of starting a family, suggestive flirting, nothing else really lol this is just fluffy:)
Word Count: 663
Laying in bed with Art had to be one of your favorite things in the world. Especially when he’s sleepy like this, his usual clinginess amplified and his sleepy grins making you swoon. It was nice to see Art relaxed, it felt like he was always so focused on being an amazing tennis player that he often forgot to take a second to breathe and think about something else.
Seeing him like this, his head resting in your lap and his eyes shut in pure bliss made you fall even more in love with him. You’re staring down at him when his eyes open, his lips splitting into a cheeky grin. “What are you staring at?”
“My handsome and amazing boyfriend.” You pretend not to notice the way his cheeks tinge pink, but it has to be one of the most adorable things you’ve ever seen. He sits up from your lap and you whine, asking him where he’s going.
“Calm down, I just wanna look at you better.” He laughs, moving behind you. You squeal as he pulls you into his lap, slapping his chest when you’re finally settled and straddling him.
“You could’ve told me to move, you didn’t have to manhandle me.” You pout at him and he laughs, shaking his head.
“I thought you liked me manhandling you.” He wiggles his eyebrows and you gasp, swatting him on the chest again. He laughs, shaking his head at your dramatic reaction.
You stay like that for a while, admiring each other in a comfortable silence. Your hips eventually start to hurt from the way you’re sitting so, much to Art’s amusement, you flop beside him. He giggles as he turns on his side to look at you, a lovesick look in his eyes.
“Do you ever think of starting a family?” The question comes out of the blue, your eyebrows raising as you look at him.
“Honestly, yeah. Especially with you.” You say it sheepishly, your cheeks tinging pink at the admission.
“So you think about fuc-”
You cut him off before he can even finish speaking, “Art don’t you dare ruin this cute comment.” He laughs, throwing his hands up in defense.
“Sorry, sorry. I think about starting a family with you too. We’d obviously have to get married first, but I definitely see that happening in the future.” His words make your heart flutter, you’d never really talked about this with Art before.
“How many kids would you want?” Your hand finds its way to his hair, your fingers brushing through the blonde locks. He hums softly, his eyes shutting.
“One or two, but I don’t care how many we have as long as we have a daughter.” His words make you chuckle and he halfway open his eyes to give you a questioning look.
“I’ve always imagined you as a girl dad when I would think about our future. I can see you spoiling her, making sure she has everything she could want and more. Playing dress up with her, going to daddy-daughter dances. You’d treat her like a little princess.”
He grins, nodding his head with his eyes still closed. “You’d be my queen and she’d be our princess. You guys wouldn’t have to worry about a thing.”
You can tell he’s nearly half asleep from the way he’s talking, his words slightly slurred. One of the many things you loved about Art is that he’d almost always be out like a light if you ran your fingers through his hair.
Before you can even open your mouth to respond, he’s snoring softly. You giggle, shaking your head. You shuffle closer towards him and he instinctively reaches out for you, pulling you into his chest. You close your eyes, a small smile on your face as you fantasize about the family you’d one day have with Art.
#art donaldson fic#art donaldson fanfic#art donaldson#art donaldson challengers#art donaldson x reader#challengers fanfic#challengers fic
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Hi, it turns out that fanfiction is really addictive and I still cant move past any recomendations without checking it out. So I have another idea for a dcxdp crossover….
Danny is living on Gotham streets for 4 months. Its perfect hiding place becouse of its aura. Many tradic deaths and general danger on every corner creats ideal barier for all sorts of ghost hunting equipment. Danny wos relucant about Gotham at first but after few failed attempts at finding hiding space, he decided that to hell with that and he will at least try. And thank the ancients that he did because its perfect. No one pays him any attention there is too much homless out there. Even if most kids are staying at Crime Alley seeking Red hood protection. thats one of the reasons why he hestitated at coming to ghotam: vigilinates. They are dangerous, becouse of partnership with goverment…. Who according to Anti-Ecto laws considers him non-sentient and in need of contamination or more often elimination. So yes Danny wos relucant but it turned out fine….. for now. No ghost or human gosthunter found him yet so he counts it as a success. Any other city, forest, mountains or everything else he tried didn’t last longer that a month. He might not be proud of his surviving technics like stealing, laying and dumpster diving but its not like he has a choice…. He is too much alive to be accepted in to infinite relams for good which is dumb if you ask Danny becouse he is at the same time its Crown Prince. But maybe Danny is just too naive or something. He does not care. On the other hand he is too dead to be accepted by humans so he kind of floats in between never to fit properly anywhere. He is surviving, and for about a year he wos completly alone until that one day…
Danny wos sitting on the bench in his favourite park close to lovely Café that had really beatifull cupcakes with blue whipped cream. He liked to pretend that he is a customer there and just waits for his order….that wos never placed…. Well who is he kidding he is just creepy homless kid that stares at people eating sweets from across the street. Pretty pathetic IF you ask Danny but he prefers not to dwell on his mental health thank you very much. So he is staring when a group of kids takes one of the outside tables. And like a serious creep listens in to their conversation. Well its not like he can swich off his super hearing.
The boys are talking about some homework from school. Danny assumes they are classmates becouse of their maching clothes. When to their table comes another one with darker skin and black hairs. The occupants share meanigfull glances and let the newcommer sit. Danny knows that look. It does not indicates anything good. Its the expression that Dash would make whenever he wos about to do something awful to him. Then the guy with blonde hair says
- Damian why don’ t you eat with us?
And then procedes to push the plate with cookies closer to the boy
- I thought I informed you Winser that I do not eat anything made of milk or other animals products. I am vegan.
Answered Damian with monotone voice. He sat incredybly straight and wos so stiff that Danny thought that must hurt.
- But its so good. beside I offered it. wouldnt it be polite of you to at least try?
Wisner insisted. Sly grin on his lips.
- Leave him be Mike he probably has problems with digesting such hard avaible products.
Said boy to the left with massive collection of pimples on his Chin. Danny named him spotty.
- I do not have any „digestive problems” as you put it Jenkin. I simply choose not to.
- of course pardon our lack of knowledge. Its just we worry that your… original diet wos a little lacking… or maybe you ate a little too much chocholate when you where younger. Thats all
And all of the group snickers to spotty „jokes”. Danny Thinks its primitive and disgusting. Racizm is low blow specially after Damians next words:
- I do not understand
And they laught even more. Damian just sits there confused and oblivious to insults vowen in to conversation. And Danny listens and decides that he must tell that boy the truth. He cant turn blind eye to that. He may no longer be a hero but that? He can help with that. Soon bullies get bored of throwing hidden insults at Damian and go away. Damian sits at their table alone staring at the crumbs of cookies. He looks lonely. Danny standard and walks over to him. But before he reaches the table his occupant whirles to face him. His eyes are very green. Not like ectoplasm but close. They are pretty expresive. Danny can see frustration and confusion in them.
-hi there!
Geats cheerfully.
- I don’t have any cash on me right now
Its the first thing Damian says to him. Rude Danny thinks even if he does looks like a beggar with his thorn jeans and dirty jumper, but he has a mission. And he does the one thing that helps him in stressfull, akward or life treathening situations: he turns it into a joke
- Shame but I will make an exeption for you and give you my services for free
- I am not interested
Damian seems irritated now. Danny procedes to ignore him and sits at the table.
- Well as an expert in friendship I can tell you that those guys weren’t your friends. Better keep away from them
- Thats none of your business. Go away
- well maybe not but you should know what they were saying to you….
And then Danny proceded to inform Damian about the hidden insults and racizem comments. Damian tried to say something and even walk away but Danny wos presistent. When he finaly finished Damian exploded
- Leave me you insolent lowborn go find yourself another imbecyle to milk for money! Or I will stab you!
- Wow that same fancy insults there. I havent Heard lowborn yet. Anyway have a good day!
And Danny proceded to turn on his heel and walk away. He left Damian dumbfoned staring at his back. if the boy decided to do something about this then good if not then Danny at least feels like he did everything he could in this situation.
-
Damian wos confused. That homless lowborn wos strange. He wos not familiar with Damian nor his family. But. Damian couldnt stop thinking about what he told him. About his classmates their words and hidden meanings. Damian wos not hier to Demons head and son of Batman without a reason. He had skills, keen mind and wos curious. So he checked, he spent almost all night reading different forums and sites about bulling and racizem. He tried not Think about how much he resembled Drake in the morning. What he found wos…. Not plesant. It turned out he missed a lot of signs of his position at school. It wos unbeconing of someone of his class. He wos glad to be aware of that problem but now he did not know what to do with it. Father and Grayson expected him to make „friends” and up until yesterday he thought he fullfiled their orders thru his classmates but now he realised it wos failure. He did not want father to Discover his mistake. So now he has different problem he does not know exacly what that „friendship” wos supposed to be. Internet wos not really helpfull, there were so many diversive definitions that he wos confused about what wos true. He wos not going to admit to father or Grayson his incompetence. He will find solution himself. He has one idea that just might work. The lowborn named himself expert in friendship. Damian just has to find him and ask. He seemed willing to sell his knowledge.
-
Danny wos a little confused and suprised to see angry boy from two days before him. In his defense Danny did not start this conversation. It wos Damian who came to his bench across the café and demanded his services. Which wos weird in itself even before he asked about the price. But he did remember that he made a joke about services so that checks.
- look I am not…
Started Danny but Damian cut him off.
- you introduced yourself as an expert in friendship so I require your services. I will pay generously.
God now Danny wos going to be arrested for child manipulation and thieft. No that can’t happen. He already is hunted for his halfa status that’s enough.
- Listen I don’t want any money. I joked that day. I saw a kid being bullied and stepped in. Further events does not concern me.
Danny tried to leave but the kid wos presistent.
- Well your knowledge proved usefull. I want more
-kid, Damian I don’t want to get in trouble by using you or something. I am pretty sure there is some paragraph for that. Ask Google, it’s better option. And without me involved
- you think I didn’t do it already?! I am not stupid, but the information there are contradicting itself and I can’t distinguish what is true and what is not!!!!
Danny looks at Damian. He is shaking a little, and his words are colored by desperation. Ancients this is trouble… but he wos in this situation before wosnt he? A boy who does not know basic social skills in foreign dimension…alone and lost. Fuck he can’t leave Damian hanging. He can feel his fear in the air. Damn ghost abilities.
- Fine what’s your problem?
-
Danny has been meeting with Damian for over 2 months now. the kid wos socially awkward but quick witted and genarlly nice company. Well Danny wos alone for so long that his judgement may be clouded by he does not dwell on that. It’s nice having someone around. And Damian talks to him. He missed that. First few meeting wos a little awkward but it got better. Danny tried to be helpful,?first they talked about the school interactions, who even wos a friend. But then they got deeper, it turned out that Damian knew about social interactions little to nothing. They talked about family how it works, what it should be like. It wos ironic considering Danny neglectful parents and dangerous home. But he knew how it should look like. Jazz make sure of that when she wos alive. Then Damian started to open up about his origin. Trainings, mother and weird hierarchy. Well Danny saw a lot wilder shit in the zone. A kid from assassin cult wosnt the most shocking but still fucked up. He thinks that Damian might be even winning his little competition: „who had more screwed childhood” He thinks that his calmness helped Damian to share. Ancients he feels like Jazz…. It is not that bad. Damian brings him snacks, becouse Danny refused any money. And Danny talks to him too. Tells him about the stars, laughs about stories of Sam and Tucker Damian will never know who is he talking about so there is no harm. First time from death of everyone loved he does not feel alone.
-
Damian didnt plan to get close to Danny. It wosnt the plan. But he wos such good listener. Danny wos systematic in his explanation of reactions and habits that are „normal” in society. He wosnt showing horror or acted surprised when he told him about discipline in league or it’s hierarchy. He didn’t even flinch when he conveyed stories of trying to establish his position in manor by attempting to murder Drake. He listened then pointed out how different manor and league functioned and then calmly suggested that he should talk to Timothy. Just like that no screaming or anger. Now he knows why father wos so frustrated with him. According to Danny family doesn’t have strict hierarchy or rules punishable by death. It wos strange to have everything finally explained. He understands so much more. He sees that Grayson tried to explain it to him before. But as much as he is fond of the man he wos unsuccessful in his attempts. But he still has one problem… father told him to make friends. It’s a mission that he is failing right now. And if he is being honest he is not talented in this department. Not that he will admit it to anyone… well apart from Danny. When he asked him what else he should do to accomplish this mission he got quiet and fidgeted for a while and then offered
- well if you want I can be your friend
Damian stopped his walk and stared at him. Did Danny filled all the requirements? He did helped Damian not expecting anything in return which friends are supposed to do according to Danny himself, his presence wos entertaining. They understood each other. Both suspicious of their surroundings and cautious in every situation. They know about each other a lot of useless information like favourite food (Danny loved burgers), colors, hobbies or general interests.
-yes that would be acceptable
Damian saw the happy glint in Danny’s eyes and the way he relaxed. They started to walk again as if it wosnt admission of most importance.
So I may post a little follow up about how Tim reacted to Damian apology? I will see. As you can see my writing isn’t the best sorry😅. So in here Danny’s family and friends from Amity are dead and he is 16-isch Damian is fresh from the league and is obviously confused.
#danny fenton#danny phantom#dp x dc crossover#dc x dp#dpxdc#damian wayne#batman#dick grayson#writing#homlessness#hiding
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12. stormy sky
frankie morales x f!reader | chapter twelve of do me yourself
summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.
wordcount: 3.6k
chapter warnings: anxious!reader. allusions to bad mental health day/sadness. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n.
an: this one is dedicated to all those who sometimes just need a day, a hug and a love. i see you, and i love you (notes at the bottom).
prev chapter | series masterlist
key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics
It wasn’t often you felt the storm coming before it arrived.
At times, it was kind enough to make itself more obviously known than on other occasions. Sometimes, it just happened, almost beyond your control—a feeling that wells up inside, leaving you in a funk for a day or two.
An unexplainable force that commands you to smile outwardly but crumble inwardly.
Then, you rise again the next morning, or in a few, completely anew—like nothing had ever happened.
Occasionally, it rides in on unexplainable sadness that follows you like a rain cloud, spreading out into swelling grief that chokes you from the inside out. Other times, it would be a headache that bloomed behind your eyes into something uncontrollable, unmanageable, that only settled with bedsheets and darkness.
As soon as the email appeared in your inbox, you felt the latter. It throbbing, pulsing—beginning somewhere between your second to final nerve.
Things shifting; a wave forming. One which rose inside of you when you weren’t aligning with the person you were working with. It growing. Swelling. Expanding inside of you to the point you were sure it was going to dislodge bone and deform you forever. The words on the screen slowly blur, barely discernible as sentences and not just another paragraph of failure.
You knew this could happen. From time to time creative visions weren't always going to align. A thing you reminded yourself of regularly, routinely. Telling yourself it in the shower, mirror or as you make your third coffee past midnight.
It never does lessen the sting, though.
Just like now, when your hand can't seem to stop slamming the lid of your laptop shut, or when you find yourself nervously nursing your lower lip between your teeth, a bubbling sensation begins within. Your mind fractures, allowing a flood of negative thoughts to pour forth, corroding, spewing and slathering itself over everything good.
You clutch at your phone, feeling the rubber of your case. Not even thinking; not even checking the time—just calling.
And hoping.
Waiting.
As soon as you hear his sunshine-like voice say your name and 'Are you okay?' (practically spoken as one word), you feel yourself take a breath.
Becoming aware, only then, of how damp your cheeks are, that your hand is shaking as he repeats the question, more gently, less dunked in worry.
Surprisingly, it feels easy to say no. To unravel silently to him as he asks you a question you rarely have been asked: 'Do you want to talk about it or something different?'
It’s small, a simple thing. But your heart swells. Your shoulders unlodge themselves from your ears and your spine softens, making the choice, all with far too much ease. Taking in the sound of his voice as he clears it, you hear him ask lowly and gruffly if you're comfortable before he begins explaining how he has a non-permanent tattoo of a creature on his arm.
Not a dinosaur, Rainy. Not even something born or created from Jurassic Park—and how he was worried that due to its placement, people would think Harold’s had become rougher, more dangerous business.
“Dangerous?”
You swear you hear him shrug. “People might see me, all tattooed up and think the worst of the place.”
Giggling, your fingers massage your head. “Where is it?”
“Guess.”
For a brief moment, like when light shines from behind the clouds, you grin. Guessing, naming body parts you know it couldn’t be, but only to hear his laugh—bathe in the joy that he can only summon, rinse your woes in it in the hope tomorrow you wake lighter.
“Ass.”
“They’d definitely think Harold’s had fucking changed if my ass is out baby.”
Smirking, climbing into bed (his advice, one you happily took). “I think I’d visit more. It’s peachy.”
Peachy he scoffs, but you swear he’s grinning. Adjusting the t-shirt as you lie down—one of his, stolen (with permission) from the drawer you’d made for him, taking in the scent of him, all musk, wood and man as you welded it with the voice as you discover it’s on his cheek.
“How are you going to explain that one?”
His laugh flows down the phone, meeting your ear as you lean against your pillows, trying (with all that you have) to almost convince yourself that he was here—and not streets and streets away.
Morning, guess what doesn’t come off with soap and a scrub? A monster.
Hope you slept okay, baby. Can bring a coffee round on my break. Can even see if I can sweet-talk a larger one for you. Put it in a flask.
Rainy, you awake?
Baby I don’t mean to worry, I bet you’re fine, just busy caught up in doing work, but just let me know you’re okay.
I have the spare key still from that delivery. If you don’t want to see me, tell me.
You’re not sure of the time—drifting on wood out at the sea of your own making. Having done so for a while.
Distantly aware of the passing of time. That it was no longer 3 am, which had been the last time you'd last checked the time. The sun is far too bright through your curtains; desperate to claw its fingers in and yank you from your sheets.
It doesn't, can't.
Instead, you're floating; lost somewhere between awake and asleep—only being disturbed, rocked from it, at the sound of your front door opening. The stiffness of the door, the squeak of a floorboard. All things which should fill you with alarm, but barely make your head move.
Because it's thumping.
Pounding.
Too much stuffed in there to do anything but lie there. Split at the seams, the rest of you shaken like a snow globe.
It crosses your mind—briefly—that if they were here to rob you, they’d find very little to take. If they were here for you, they were most definitely mistaken. Your eyes struggle to stay open, even if your ears are tuning, trying to twist to each noise, only relaxing when you hear the intruder mutter fuck.
Because you know that fuck. Know the exact voice as though it lives in your head with the one that wouldn't quiet at 3 am.
For the most part, you have to admit Frankie is quiet. A skill he likely gained from his former life, the one where it was a necessity. He just didn’t know your home. You only being able to tell he’s here from the little things, like that he’s not completely aware your front door gets a little stuck when it’s really warm and that some floorboards are looser than others.
In the same way, he doesn’t know that if you open your partially shut bedroom door slowly, it groans like it’s being personally offended—
“Mierda.”
You’re sure you croak a Hi Frankie.
You think it anyway; wanting to give an invitation to come closer, to move further in as your eyes try to focus on the money tree named Moana. With each blink, the leaves slowly come into focus as you begin to adapt to the brightness cast in by, what you now assume must be the afternoon. Blinking when you see him crouch down, all soft curls and silky brown eyes.
“You worried me.”
Swallowing, struggling to shove the dryness back, you clear your throat. “Headache.”
He’s gentle, slowly placing his palm on the side of your head, thumb brushing over the skin above your brow as he shifts in his crouched position. “Worse than that time you told me about?”
“About the same.”
It’s quiet, the way he answers with okay. Thumb doing a final swipe before you hear a pop of his knee as he stands, a mumble of Be right back, baby before the floorboards creek and you can hear him opening and closing cupboards in your kitchen. With a sigh, you close your eyes briefly, being roused by a gentle breeze caressing your cheek to find he'd returned, a glass of water in one hand and a crinkling packet in the other.
“Do you want to get in?”
“Sure,” he says, in the familiar deep voice—as you shuffle with ease.
Not daring to lift your head, to move too quickly or violently. The mattress dips as the bed groans when he throws his feet up, sliding into the warmth you’ve been creating for hours, finding his eyes—how that worry is still there. It swirling, likely mixing with the gold flecks and deep browns you admire every chance you can get.
You worry you've spoiled them, tainted them. Made them swirl with sadness caused by worry. And the thought makes your insides hum, as though someone has plucked all your strings. The twang of it trying to mix with the other emotions you don't feel equipped to unpiece.
“I’m s—”
“Don’t. You have nothing to be sorry for,” he says, firmly. Not accompanied by any smile.
A thing you know he means when he asks you, voice wrapped in satin, if you can take a sip for him. His arm slides around you, trying to pull you close as you do more than that, but rather consume, drain, and finish the glass.
When you hand it back, you think about the fact that a you with your head not coming apart might have teased him, might even throw your leg over his and asked him if he thinks sex gets rid of migraines like it does headaches. But, the words catch, stick and clag to the roof of your mouth.
Something rising, the emotions you’d shoved down trying to weave up. Climb. Stick their spikes into your oesophagus and crawl out your mouth. That is, until his palm spreads out, the width of his fingers sliding further up and along your spine. The act aiding you, guiding you to take a measured breath. One that stammers, hammers. One that floods inside of your chest, rising and rising like it wishes to crash against a beach and take everything to shore—
But, then it eases, calms.
All being gobbled back up, calmer waves lapping as you shift, seeing him lit by muffled, golden yellow. Listening to his heart, the breaths he takes as you try to follow them—even the scratching of his beard as he tucks himself closer and asks nothing, except silently, to be here.
Eventually, when you stop counting seconds, the quiet is broken—not rudely, or unnecessarily, but just with: “What can I do?”
“You’ve done it.”
Turning to see him—to find the gaze you know will already be on you. To look at the face you think of and have truthfully only wanted to see, there. You begin to explain, letting it all unravel, it unspooling from your tongue. Maybe sharing too much, like that no one you’ve dated has shown up like this before, and that you don’t ever expect him to do it again.
Shifting closer, as you continue talking, eyes closed to not aggravate what is trying to lessen, as you add extra context, sharing what happens, that you’re okay—but that sometimes you’re not. Statements, mainly. Likely broken sentences you somehow mash into paragraphs. Filling in the gaps, from the last weeks to now, to the email and then the call. How it happened—
“Maybe it’s because I’m happy.”
“Hmm?”
Shrugging gently against him, your chest fills with air before you exhale it in one long drag through your nose. “Maybe because I’m happy, my work isn’t that good.”
“Maybe.” His fingers find your chin, turning your eyes to his. “Or maybe he’s got very high expectations and the two of you just aren’t a good fit.”
Chewing your lip, you lower your gaze. “Yeah, maybe.” Unconsciously turning into the palm resting on your jaw, his thumb stroking your cheek as you dare yourself to find his eyes. “I really hate people sometimes.”
Snorting, you feel his lips press to your forehead. “Let me tell you about this fucking asshole who tried to tell me the white paint he was buying wasn’t white.”
You press yourself closer to him ready to listen, hand sliding across his middle as you grasp more of his shirt, finding the smallest smile trying to crack through.
The next time you wake it’s to the smell of breakfast.
There's humming too, occasional words floating from the kitchen through the open door of your bedroom.
A coy smile already tugging across your cheek, the storm having waned, moved to the distance. But still, you test to see if it's safe as you lift from the pillows—sleep rubbed from your eyes as you spot the crumpled side of the bed. See the empty glass you’d drank before he held you, the jacket he’d been wearing when he’d showed up impromptu folded on the floor near the dresser.
Then, the grossness hits. The awareness that your skin feels claggy and awful, shuffling your feet from the bed, all the way to your bathroom.
His t-shirt peels from you with reluctance. The sadness eventually glides down the drain as the water falls down your skin—stepping out feeling refreshed.
Smiling as you head down the hallway, not forcing a smile as you slide your hands around his waist, fingers moving under the band of his tee, as they stroke over soft, warm skin and the dark hairs that swirl across his middle.
“Thank you,” you say, the words so large you hope they land with the weight you intend them to.
He turns and kisses you, whispering a don't against your minty mouth. Hovering for a moment there, before his mouth finds you again, more hungry, more laced with words as he presses you against the counter. Nowhere to go as he tilts your chin up. “You're worth showing up for, Rainy.”
You swear your heart triples in size as you bury your face in his tee and grin something stupid against him as he continues to sing whatever is playing out loud on his phone.
Do we need to go furniture shopping before or after you put the shelving in?
Probably before in case we need to order things. How’s your mini project coming along?
Well, I followed this tutorial by this very handsome man, and it seems easy to do, but my kitchen shelf isn’t straight.
Did you follow all of the instructions?
Now why would you assume I didn’t?
Because it sounds like you didn’t make sure it was level, baby.
Rude.
But did you?
I may have assumed that my eyesight was good.
How many holes do I need to fill in?
Oh, just the one.
In the wall.
Oh. Eight.
Since the moment he picked you up, you've been buzzing with excitement, just as you have been all week since he told you where he was taking you.
A skip in your step when you locked your door, the sun warming your skin in the short walk to the door he'd opened for you. Remembering how he teased you on the phone last night—you made a Pinterest board of what it could look like?—as you sat cross-legged on the couch, listening to him, shaking your head at the camera.
He handed you the coffee—brewed and made by him—only when you were seated. Another thing you were also sure had added to the swirling excitement in your stomach.
The drive, thankfully, hadn't been long. Undoing your belt when he kills the engine, his palm pressing down on your knee.
“No plants.”
“Are you asking me, or are you telling me?”
Leaning across the centre of his vehicle, he pulls your lips to his. “A very polite ask.”
“You don’t fancy your own Benedict or Henry?”
The tip of his nose touching yours, “I really don’t.”
You suggested other names as the two of you walked to the store's entrance, hand slotting inside his. Only silencing from your torment when your footsteps echoed softly against the glossy tile floors—blending with the rumbles of distant, murmured conversations, phone rings and furniture being rearranged.
Suddenly, the two of you were enveloped in the scents of polished wood and fresh upholstery, a scent you’re sure you used to like, but now really freaking loved.
Because this place is nice. The soft glow of overhead lights bathed the showroom in a warm, inviting ambience—casting a gentle spotlight on each carefully curated display. It was a scene straight out of a home decor magazine—every homeowner's dream.
"C'mon, Rainy," he coos, guiding.
Adding a soft this way from the back of his throat, becoming aware of his fingers brushing over the back of your jeans—along the pockets, along the expanse of your ass as you eye him, finding that same shy smirk that could explode into something more devilishly and ridiculously hard to resist.
A thing he already is without trying.
A thing which worsens when his arm comes around and keeps your side flush to his as the two of you make the way to the rows and rows of desks.
It makes sense to begin here.
To choose the ‘centrepiece’ of the room—as Frankie had explained on the drive—because everything has to fit around it. A thing you’d teased that you thought he was good at making things fit. To which he’d, playfully, replied that he was good, but he wasn’t fit-a-desk-and-a-dresser-an-armchair-and-shelving-good. A thing you'd promptly argued.
Stepping from his side, fingers brushing over the top of one, you glance over at them all. How they’re all vying for your attention, each with a unique allure. From sleek modern to rustic wood.
Catching Frankie's eye and with a mischievous grin, you take a seat behind one of the desks.
“Frank DIY’s office, how I can hammer you a good time today?” you say into the faux telephone, “Oh, I am sure Mr Morales would be able to… bend over and get himself in—I mean, you in.”
Frankie shakes his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as you get up and sit behind another, typing on the desk as a keyboard, pretending to stare at the unplugged monitor that had no computer with it. Then moving to another, one with a desk mat and no other items than a plant that looks chewed by tiny teeth, before pulling yourself on the wheels behind one with drawers and a keyboard but nil else.
“Oh, hello sir. Your 2 o’clock is here.”
“Is that right?” he asks, folding his arms. “What am I doing for this appointment?”
Smirking, fingers poised over the keys. “They wish to know how to check if a desk is stable. For two people.”
You hear him take in a breath. Lips threatening to spread into a smirk before he clears his throat. “To work at?”
Shaking your head, you grin.
“I’ll have to call my assistant in. She’s a handful, bad with drilling, but, she can help me.”
Laughing, almost hiccuping from it, he stares down at you—palms still very flat against the desk—as it fades and spreads into a smile that hurts your cheeks. “There it is.”
“There’s what?”
“My smile.”
Eyes widening, you snort. “Your smile?”
“Yeah,” he says. “Mine.”
Rolling your lips, standing from the wheely chair, you raise your brows. Moving around the edge, fingers dancing along the wood until you’re standing perfectly in front of him—eyeing him, as always unable to take your eyes from him.
“I think I like this one,” you add, running the tips of your fingers over the smooth surface of the desk. “There’s no price though—or sizing.”
Frankie glances at it, eyes flicking from each of the sides as he likely does math gymnastics. “You’ll have a lot of space for your dresser—the butterscotch one.”
“You just know that do you?”
“Grab a measuring tape and I’ll confirm it,” he grins.
Hand on hip, you arch a brow as Frankie's laughter fills the air, but you can see it in his eyes, the challenge.
“Get it yourself, Morales.”
Pinching your ass, he walks around it. “I’ll remember that.”
Shaking your head, he snaps a photo of the desk—staring at his screen to check it before locking it. His hand offered to you.
“Chairs?”
Leaning close, voice dropping, you—all velvet-like— whisper, “Your face not on offer when I’m working?”
Pink spreads up his neck, tongue clicking against his teeth, he smiles. Grins. His fingers tighten around yours as you’re sure his eyes actually sparkle. “From the way you weren’t able to form sentences last time, not sure you’d get much work done.”
The chairs, for how colourful and varying they were, felt less fun than desk shopping. Most of them were out of reach, high up on shelves—having to assess whether they were as comfortable as they looked or if it was a lie. A game that got less and less fun the more you trailed.
Frankie, likely guessing your joy was wavering, grabbed a basket at some point—allowing you to peruse the mini plant aisles and other decorative things. For your shelves, he said, for the shelves, you replied, grinning, even as you grabbed a particularly wiry cactus you named Cisco.
“You think you’ve got at least one of everything in here?”
Fake laughing, your elbow confidently finds his side—hearing a gruff huff from him. “Almost. I just need—”
Eyes spotting it, body moving all of its own accord as though the required item had been lit under a spotlight and heaven-like noises had begun playing. Fingers gliding over each, brushing over fleece fluff that left marks of your touch, to more knitted, firmer types, too many choices all to be shared at, contemplated.
You feel it before you see it. Pain flaring from your side as your head whips—meeting the disgruntled face of another shopper, the end of their cart still firmly against your side as though somehow, you were the one who was required to move. Even after he’d practically rammed the cart into you.
“Hey man, watch it,” Frankie says, arm sliding around you, pulling you close.
The smallest of gaps made, created, between yourself and the offending cart. The pain throbbing, the embarrassment simmering, as you fight rubbing the impacted sight as it continued to pound, hearing:
And maybe, if you had looked across, you would have seen the man scoff—observed the expression that made Frankie tense even more protectively next to you You would have noticed why his usually soft smile shifted into a thin line as a storm brewed inside of him before you heard:
“She's the one in the way.”
An adult-like response if you've ever heard one. A thing you shake your head at, but reach your hand up to touch Frankie's chest, tapping lightly as you watch him visibly swallow whatever had been about to come out of his mouth. Instead, he mutters a few choice curses under his breath, shooting a silent but determined look to the person as they mumbled the most pathetic apology known.
But, you didn’t, don’t.
Because, if you had, you'd have missed the way it all vanished when his eyes met yours. How it was erased, wiped all clean. Every affliction on his face, from the hardened eyes to the twitch of his nose, slipped away back to its recess.
“You alright, baby?”
Not one blame placed on you; not even a thought to do so, as his knuckles brush your cheek.
“I’m fine, Butterscotch. It's nice to meet protective you, though.” His eyes shifting from you quickly, the deepest of reds flooding his ears, you flatten your hand to his chest. “I appreciate it.”
Meeting your stare, he swallows. “You sure you're okay?”
Biting the inside of your cheek when his palm, warm and spreading heat, begins stroking over the offended area, you nod. Grinning.
Because if anything, you're pretty sure you might be in love with him.
NEXT CHAPTER ->
notes: i've drip fed rainy's difficult client for a few chapters now, as well as her little wobbles with anxiety. i know this isn't everyone's experience, but i think we can all relate to those days when getting out of bed just feels hard. i hope you're all okay, and just know i'm always here. no one is ever alone when the grey clouds are overhead, even if they clouds hope to make us feel that way. ily all, jo.
#frankie morales x reader#francisco morales x reader#frankie morales x f!reader#frankie morales x you#pedro pascal character fanfiction#triple frontier x reader#francisco morales fanfiction#frankie morales#triple frontier fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#francisco catfish morales x reader#catfish morales x reader#pedrostories#jo: dmy#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal
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Okay... This episode of Digital Circus almost made me cry... almost!
When I saw the first episode of this show I knew I was going to really like it, but I wasn't prepared for how much I was going to love it. This reminds me of when X-Men 97 premiered and even though we were only two episodes in I could already tell this was going to be something special.
I know it's super, super early to say this, but this might become one of my favorite shows. The way they handled this episode really worked for me in a way I haven't felt in a while.
From the very first scene things already start on a really strong note, with our main lead, Pomni, having nightmares about the worst-case scenario from the new situation she's in where she imagines herself being affected by the circus glitch and being abandoned by the rest of the cast.
This does a great job setting up her sense of isolation and how she thinks she's on her own even though they all should be on the same boat together.
This gets highlighted even more as another member of the circus, Ragatha, is seen constantly trying to show her support and getting Pomni to cheer up despite the dreadful situation they're in while Pomni herself just acts indifferent as if she had already given up on everything and everyone.
I found this characterization of hers so relatable because I also used to think for a while that my problems were mine and mine alone and that everyone trying to help me were doing that just out of obligation and not because they really cared.
For some reason it felt "safer" to just assume I couldn't count on anyone because then I wouldn't have to worry about being disappointed in anyone, after all, you can't get disappointed if you don't get your hopes up.
So imagine how hyped I got when I saw that they indirectly made Pomni realize why it's important to rely on people when they switched the roles and placed her on the position where she needed to be there for someone.
I wanted to jump and slam my desk while shouting "Perfect! Perfect! This is just perfect!!"
Everything that needed to be said was being said just in the right way, just at the right time, and with the right amount of emotion, just the right amount of seriousness and levity.
Cause here's the thing, the media often has this obnoxious tendency of portraying antisocial characters as people that need to just "Get over it."
A lot of writers enjoy lumping grumpy characters, and reserved characters, depressed characters, angry characters and all these stuff as people who just need someone to cheer them up and have them forget about their problems, as if they were babies that just need to grow up and learn to be less grumpy so they can join in with the fun alongside everyone else.
You notice that it's always a person in a bad mood + someone who's always cheerful, happy, and with a child-like joyful attitude to be their contrast or someone to call them out on their "grumpyness."
And that always bothers me because it makes it seem like they're downplaying someone's struggle or inner turmoil as if they were minor things that they latch onto to just because nobody has told them to let it go yet.
I like when stories showcase why people struggle so much to let go of this mindset, why they struggle to open up to others and find themselves cheering to their day-to-day lives again.
But I'm also aware that this is not an easy task cause it's basically asking to show someone being depressed for a good portion of your story, and if that goes on for too long or it starts diving into a too heavy of a territory, it can make it a challenge just to watch.
So yeah, I get it, it's hard to find the right balance.
To show why someone needs to overcome their personal demons, while also making it an enjoyable experience to go through.
You don't want a case like Legend Of Korra where Lin Beifong's issues were pretty much treated as a joke, but you also don't want something like the Beast Boy segments from Young Justice where every scene with him just felt the same thing for 5 or 6 episodes, even though they were realistic scenes depicting someone going through what he was dealing with and they all built up to an amazing conclusion with Black Canary... But it was still draining to go through that.
You need to find the right balance and I felt like this episode really succeeded in that. You get why Pomni feels the way she does and you get why Ragatha tries so hard to help her out and why it's important that she keeps trying even when it seems like there is no point.
I really like how Ragtha isn't just "Cheer up, Pomni! Let me show you the secret to enjoying life!", she's actually trying to be sensitive of her situation, giving her the space and time she needs, and being there for her but not forcing herself on her.
She validates Pomni's pain but also knows it's a pain that she needs to learn how to deal with, otherwise, she's just gonna miss out on her own life.
The final scene was the thing that really got me.
When Pomni finally realized that the same way she tried to help out that NPC when they were stuck, she also needs to let others help her out.
It took me so long to realize in life that I don't need to deal with everything on my own, that I had people there for me, that I'm allowed to be vulnerable and make mistakes and that the people around me who love and care about me would still be there for me.
It took way, way too long for me to realize all that, so to see that final shot of Pomni imagining herself falling just like in her dream, but this time she had trust that her friends would be there to catch her, it really hit me good.
youtube
I'm not sure how to explain it but for some reason I was really proud of her for learning such an important lesson so quickly that it took me so long to learn myself. Like, I know she's not real, she's a fictional character, but I felt an immense relief while thinking people would watch this, and learn from this, and not make the same mistakes I did.
I have no idea where this show is going, but I feel like I'm in safe hands and can't wait to see what else they're going to do and where they're going to go.
I'm very very hyped for this series!
Also, I know this makes me a monster, but this scene made me laugh. :)
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How do the tokyo revengers boys act around their crush????
Not counting the guys who've seen around a crush, this is how I think they would act!
Mikey- Tries to get your attention a lot and insists you come and hang out or "play" with him. He wants your attention on him and will do whatever he can to get that. Will pout if you ignore him too much and complain to Draken.
Baji- He plays it cool, pretends that he isn't romantically interested and instead tries to see you as a friend. Still keeps you close to him but tries not to act on any feelings (at least not without a push).
Chifuyu- Blushing sm whenever you're around, almost drives himself crazy with how much he thinks about you. Reads his manga for advice and even asks Baji despite Baji having 0 experience with this himself.
Mitsuya- Focuses more of his attention on you. He tries to get to know you more and spends more time with you. He's just a lot more interested in you.
Hakkai- Not only can he not talk to you but he can barely be in the same room as you, leaves very quickly if you approach. He admires you from afar until he works up the courage to say something.
Smiley- Hangs out around you more often and basically becomes your guard dog, threatening anyone who seems like they'll cause you trouble. He hasn't really figured out how to talk to you properly yet so he tries to let his actions show how much he cares instead. Tries hard to not blush around you.
Angry- Starts off very slow with just saying hi to you everytime he sees you, then starts asking how you are and tries to engage you in further chats. He's caring to everyone but seems to give you extra attention.
Mucho- He observes you a lot for awhile, trying to figure out his own feelings and what he really wants. He's a pretty straight forward guy though so when he's ready he'll approach you and ask if you want to accompany him to a cafe at some point.
Sanzu- He also observes you but in a different way, he wants to know everything about you before he makes his move. Also has a habit of leaving gifts for you in your post box. Also wants to make sure you're safe and no one messes with what he finds precious.
Naoto- Always does little things for you to show his crush, like getting you an extra bottle of water after he buys one and helping you with whatever you need.
Hanma- He finds it very amusing that he even has a crush. He actually kinda tries to scare you away, well not scare you exactly, more like he shows you his more extreme side as a test. He figures you might as well see the real him now before anything happens between the two of you (his way of avoiding you breaking his heart if you change your mind). He's serious about his feelings when they're this strong. Once you get that over point though then he's constantly teasing you and casually touches you a lot.
Kazutora- Worries a lot about this and actually tries to avoid you to get rid of the crush. He hasn't exactly had a lot of healthy examples of relationships in his life so this concerns him a bit, thinks you're too good for someone like him. However the feelings are too strong so he does eventually confess, he figures you can turn him down then you'll all be done. He'd be pretty surprised if you actually said yes though.
Inui- Finds the crush to be troublesome. He straight up asks you out on a date, so the two of you can go out and he can realise he doesn't actually like you (he's in a lot of denial)
Taiju- He has 0 doubts about you wanting to date him or at least that's what he tells himself. Is a bit unsure deep down though. He tries to make himself look better to you.
Izana- Also wants your attention to only be on him, he sees you as being his so you should focus on him. Actually gets a little flustered when you do focus on him and praise him though. He likes it but freezes up a little since he's not used to it.
Kakucho- Tries to do small acts of kindess for you, he wants you to trust him and love him too. He's just so caring and gentle towards you, always offering you soft smiles.
Ran- Straight up flirts with you, he kinda makes it hard for you to know if he's being serious or not though. He hides behind his wit and charisma. Touches you casually a lot too, thinking nothing of getting close to you.
Rindou- Is a lot more unsure then Ran, he tries to flirt with you too but frequently gets too flustered or accidentally messes up his lines. It kinda works in his favour though since it feels a lot more genuine.
Mochi- Shares a lot of things with you, both verbally and physically. He tells you a lot about himself and asks you a lot of questions. And is always sharing food and drinks with you (blushes slightly at every indirect kiss)
Shion- Follows you around like a lost puppy, he tries to make you laugh a lot too by telling jokes. Will sometimes boast about himself as a way to impress you.
South- Is more gentle with you then anyone else, always asks you about your day and how things are going. He really want to sing or play the piano for you but hasn't quite gotten the words out to ask you yet.
Wakasa- Always wants to hang out with you and will conveniently "forget" to invite the others so it ends up being just the two of you. Will also lean on you a lot or casually lay his head in your lap for a nap. He wants to be close to you even if he hasn't gotten around to confessing yet.
Benkei- Always complimenting you even when you're not around, all his friends know how much he likes you because of how much he talks about you.
Shinichiro- He uses so many cheesy pick up lines on you, he found a big book of them and is convinced he can win you over with them. He also invites to the shop a lot to hang out (and as a way to impress you with his bike skills).
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I keep thinking about Tommy and his backstory (is this called headcanon?)
- He is content with being single for so long. He accepted that dating is not for him. Maybe a few one night stand here and there but it's only for his sexual needs. So when Buck being awkward and stupid on their first date, he was a bit disappointed but then he brushes it off and think "again, dating is not for me" and put the blame on himself for "rushing" Buck for the kiss and the date.
- Even though he's okay being single doesn't mean he's okay with the loneliness. He's been going through his life without any closes friends or family, and he feels lonely from time to time. He hated it and usually doing excessive cleaning or fixing something in the house/car to distract himself.
- He was an only child and his parents get divorced when he was 7-8 yo, but no one wants to keep him. His parents married because her mom pregnant with him first. But his parents were too young to be married (17-18ish) and they obviously doesn't want to be parents. His dad usually get drunk and abused him to release his anger and frustration. His mom clearly doesn't want him so she often take him to the grandma's house for sleep over. And when grandma passed away things getting ugly. They both get divorced and no one wants to keep him, like literally, not mom or dad fighting for him. Especially with his age when he supposed to start elementary school. So they just left him one day and one of the relatives take him. But since he's been abused and neglected, he become a difficult kid. Mostly quiet and not expressing himself enough to get the adults understand what he wants. So he's passed from relatives to relatives until he reached 18 and join the army.
- He likes rom-com because he find comfort in happy ending. He knows rom-com is light and absolutely have happy ending so it makes him happy too without thinking or worrying too much.
- He wanted to have cats but he keep thinking what if he has no time for it with his random shift or even if he died on call and no one to take care of the poor kitty.
- He get attracted to Buck because how happy and energetic like a puppy he is. Buck have some issues and trauma as well, but Buck is Buck. Buck like sunshine, warm, affectionate and stupidly adorable. He feel the urge to take care of Buck. He wants to keep him and protected him from any harm.
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Iori, Yuki, Touma 2024 Shuffle talk RabbiTV Episode 3
Episode 1 - Episode 2 - Episode 3
Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access them, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!
Yuki: ...I thought we were supposed to take a bus to the flower field…
Izumi Iori: We came by bus to the foot of the mountain. We've only been walking for about ten minutes.
Inumaru Touma: Well, a little stroll ain’t so bad, is it? We'll be there in no time if we chat in the meantime!
Yuki: Yeah, if we chat... So then, tell us something interesting.
Inumaru Touma: Huh!? Interesting...!? That's too sudden!
Inumaru Touma: Um, well let me tell you something that happened backstage the other day...
Yuki: You came up with something pretty quick for a sudden request.
Izumi Iori: Indeed, Inumaru-san's responsiveness is impressive, but is it appropriate to share that story here?
Inumaru Touma: Ahaha! It's fine, don’t worry! I just wanna say that we’ve never seen our manager laugh so hard before.
Inumaru Touma: So, I tried my best to show off my weirdest face but everyone recoiled... Do you wanna see it?
Yuki: Yes I do.
Izumi Iori: Your reactions are quick too...
Yuki: I forget because Momo does it quite often, but I think idols making funny faces are quite rare.
Izumi Iori: Hmm... I don't quite understand, but I am certainly curious about a weird face that makes people recoil.
Inumaru Touma: Alright, here goes! ...Gyuu!
Yuki ＆ Izumi Iori: ...!
Izumi Iori: What on earth happened to your facial features...!? How is it even possible that they’re all concentrated in the middle like that...?
Inumaru Touma: E-erm, please stop inspecting me from this close...
Yuki: …pfft, hahaha... Touma-kun's weird face and Iori-kun analyzing it on top of it is hilarious…
Inumaru Touma: T-Thanks for praising my weird face! ...Phew. Can I stop now...? Izumi...
Izumi Iori: I'm sorry. I have witnessed the wonders of the human body.
Yuki: Alright, your turn Iori-kun. Do something entertaining.
Izumi Iori: I refuse.
Inumaru Touma: Quick reaction!
Izumi Iori: Unfortunately I do not possess such talents.
Yuki: Even though it's your senpai's order...
Izumi Iori: ... I won a "Seasonal Vegetable Assortment Set" in a lucky draw the other day. Would you like to come over and eat some? Nii-san will be cooking something delicious for us.
Yuki: I'm in.
Inumaru Touma: Yuki-san is bribed with vegetables...!
Yuki: Mitsuki-kun's cooking is delicious. Touma-kun, why don't you come over too?
Izumi Iori: By all means. There's plenty to go around.
Inumaru Touma: Seriously!? I'm so happy! Thank you...!
Yuki: Oh, look, you two. A flower field!
Inumaru Touma ＆ Yuki ＆ Izumi Iori: Wow...!
Izumi Iori: The view is magnificent. There are hydrangeas in shades of light blue and pale purple as far as the eye can see...
Yuki: It truly is like a "carpet of flowers". It must feel amazing to lie down there.
Inumaru Touma: I'm glad I came here...!
Staff: Congratulations, everyone. Mission accomplished!
Staff: Thank you very much for your hard work even in this hot weather. There are benches here, so feel free to take a break and enjoy the scenery!
Izumi Iori: Yes, thank you very much.
Inumaru Touma: I feel a great sense of accomplishment...
Izumi Iori: ...Indeed. I've discovered how invigorating mountain climbing can be.
Inumaru Touma: No matter how tough the journey is, all the hardships will blow away if there’s a view this beautiful waiting for you!
Yuki: ...Sounds the same as being an idol.
Inumaru Touma: Oh, maybe! Even if we're struggling with lessons and work every day, seeing the smiles of our fans makes us feel like we can keep going the next day!
Izumi Iori: Speaking of mountain climbing, have you heard this phrase?
Izumi Iori: "Life is like climbing a mountain. Once you've climbed it, you have to come down eventually. If you keep climbing without descending, then you lose."
Yuki: ...It’s hard for people to maintain their spot when they achieve something and reach the top, they have to come down eventually to aim for the next peak.
Inumaru Touma: ...That's deep...
Izumi Iori: Yuki-san mentioning that it sounds like our job reminded me of it.
Inumaru Touma: Does Re:vale ever have a thing called going down a mountain?
Yuki: Of course we do. But it's not about descending the mountain. It's about not resting on our laurels and continuing to strive to create something great, one song at a time.
Yuki: Isn't that true for you guys too?
Inumaru Touma: …! Yes... I want to challenge myself more and more with us four in ŹOOĻ.
Izumi Iori: It’s the same for us in IDOLiSH7. Each member's composition and choreography skills are improving, but we still haven't seen the end goal yet.
Yuki: Fufu, that's scary. Re:vale can't just sit back and relax when we have such strong-willed children.
Inumaru Touma: I'm really glad I came here.We were able to talk about the future together because of it.
Izumi Iori: We'll be rivals again tomorrow.
Yuki: Can't we be friends for today? I don’t think I can go down this mountain without Iori-kun and Touma-kun.
Inumaru Touma: Haha! Of course! Let's talk as we go down!
Yuki: That's good to hear. Then I wanna see Iori-kun's weird face on our way down.
Izumi Iori: I-I thought the vegetables were enough...!?
Izumi Iori: ...I'll have to resort to my last trick. How about looking at a photo of Nanase-san's weird face instead?
Yuki: Wait. Even the concept is already funny. I really wanna see it.
Inumaru Touma: You guys take photos of each other’s weird faces!? That's awesome...!
Izumi Iori: They were sent by my brother during a party.
Yuki: Thanks. I think we can still have fun thanks to you two.
End of Episode 3.
#idolish7#i7#ainana#idolish7 translation#izumi iori#yuki re:vale#orikasa yukito#inumaru touma#shuffle talk#shuffle talk 2024#rabbitv
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hi johanna! i want to try going to church, but feel self-conscious. i live in a small town, my friends are not religious and my family is ex-christian. i'm worried about people judging me, even though i know that shouldn't matter. some of my family seem embarrassed of how christian we used to be and they'd be surprised i want to go to church. i feel equally worried about walking into a church where everyone knows everyone but me or seeing someone i know! any thoughts are welcome. love your blog!
Hello, beloved!
I'm sure you're not alone in this situation—honestly, it can be kinda embarrassing to genuinely want to participate in faith, the way it's embarrassing to be earnest about anything. People who aren't religious can completely misunderstand the motivations and experiences of religious people, and while I don't know why your family left religion, both people who just weren't all that into it and people who have been hurt by or have serious issues with the church can be (sometimes understandably) antagonistic toward people who stay or join.
Perhaps judgment "shouldn't" matter—but it does, to most everyone. Something something how our brains are wired to desire acceptance—I'm not a psychologist. It makes sense and it's okay. Caring what people think often coexists with empathy—they're both awareness of others, desiring good emotions in others. But we cannot let empathy become fear of ourselves. Empathy extends to our own souls too. Being genuinely faithful in the face of judgment from outside and within your communities takes strength. Creating a life of your own is terrifying. This isn't fair, but it is our calling.
In recent years, I've embraced the uncool-ness of my earnestness—my beloved amalgam of philosophy and religion that started as an apocalyptic cult and was co-opted by empire and has a lot of weirdos and needs to repent of its crimes and has produced some of the most beautiful art in the world and that attracts people to the walls of churches even after everything. I'm almost glad in some ways that it's not the assumption anymore that everyone is Christian, that more and more you have to go out of your way to be part of this thing. (I'm not completely naive—I know that where I live is a majority Christian country, and I am not pretending oppression or minority status or counterculture. But I am often met with surprise that I'm Christian, and I treasure that.)
The small town thing is its own beast—I live in a city (small but I think it counts), but I currently go to church half an hour away in a very rural area, and there's a specific environment of knowing everyone that I only have a tiny experience with but can imagine how exposed it must feel to try something new or change your life in any small way. And there is definitely a small church culture that can feel intimidating, like sitting at a new table in high school, wondering if somewhere tight knit has room for another. I can never promise this, but I know with my church and many others, welcoming a new person into that tight knit community is the most natural thing in the world. You'll probably get a more personal welcome, and be invited to more potlucks, and I can't promise someone there won't know your mom, but it's doable even as an introvert. Church people want more people at church—in lovely communal ways or in evangelistic ways, and while I hope you meet the former, even the latter has its own welcome. There are definitely ways to dip your toes in the water of church without braving this—like visiting a church while you're out of town, or tuning into a virtual service—but I believe in you to take it a step further. If you come a few minutes late and leave a few minutes early to avoid any conversation, I salute you. If you see someone you know and flee the other direction, I understand. If you go once and have to wait a few months to be brave enough to go back, so be it. But you have as much a right to exist on holy ground as anyone, and you already have common ground to stand on because you want to be there, just like them. I don't know how many churches are near you, but you're already going outside your comfort zone, so you might as well step into one that you're not familiar with—a more traditional mass, or a hippie sing-along. Don't set limits on your journey that is about pushing past limits.
You want to try this out, and it probably feels lonely, and you'll have to stomach surprise and probably being looked down upon by people who feel they know better, feel they have evolved past the need for silly little ritual, or for whom religion only exists as closed-mindedness. I don't know if you're queer, but I've had similar experiences of being the one to embrace where God and my heart lead me, to the embarrassment or shame of those who have never encountered it or have stifled it within themselves. You'll have to stand your ground, the way anyone who seeks something their family and friends don't has to do. Formulate some answers for questions you may receive—but no one has a right to your story. You're allowed to be casual about things that are deeply personal, you can say "I don't know, I was just curious" when everything in your soul is calling out for this. Being publicly faithful often comes after you've done the reconciling within yourself. Have patience.
If you're into saints, find some who have gone their own way—Francis of Assisi comes to mind. I even think of Moses, telling a member of his own adoptive family to let his people go, standing his ground for people he had only recently come to love. The faithful that have come before us had to live through—and die from—so much. Entering new communities has always needed strength, the strength of God. Often a lonely way at first, but your family's embarrassment or your friends' lack of understanding is not your burden. Their judgment is on them to swallow down or bear the guilt of acting on it. Your choices and calling is for them to reconcile. I'm not saying we should do whatever we want without regard for how it affects others, but you are not causing harm, and any tension will not have been created by you going to church, but by them disliking or not understanding this fact. And tension is sometimes necessary for people to reconcile with—it'll be good for them. You're probably doing them a favor—we all need to learn how to love people the way they will need to. It sucks to feel like a teaching tool, and I don't want to reduce you to that, but so often living a full life means people who can't deal with that have to learn. Looking at someone embracing what you never found a way to flourish within or understand is like looking at the sun sometimes—I've been there. But it is not for us to apologize for the light. And it often happens that being that light will move someone else to bravery.
I'm sorry it falls on you to be brave first. I'm sorry that religion is not simple or easy, but genuine desire can and will take you so far. I have a hunch that after the first time, a lot of things will make more sense. Beginning is half of the journey sometimes. If you've already begun since writing this, I'm very proud of you, and if you haven't, you have so much beautiful time. Faith is not all or nothing, and it is never too late. Life does not begin and end in your small town, and life can and will flourish—you are part of such a big world and history, for better and worse.
God is with you, regardless. God is right there, walking with you, moving your feet over the threshold of places you muster so much bravery just to enter. What shouldn't matter but does, deeply, heartbreakingly, can be both taken seriously and let go of, through the peace of Christ.
<3 Johanna
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🐟 Fisherman x Human Reader 🐟
Arlong, Jinbe, Fisher Tiger i Hody Jones
── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . : ── ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.──
(I hope you enjoyed it (: Again, I apologize for the mistakes)
── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . : ── ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.──
🦈 Arlong 🦈
Twitter / X : @KUYUEN1
🦈 Emmm well that would be difficult, what's the surprise? Arlong is a fisherman who thinks he's better than people (Are you sure he's better?).
🦈 You must have had something really special about you for him to pay attention to you.
🦈 Maybe even at first he only took you as a new human pet.
🦈 It would have taken a long time for him to start thinking about you differently.
🦈 I think it would start with something as small as addressing you by name. Like just calling you a person.
🦈 Then a few small touches. A hand on your back as he pushes you forward. (Why are you walking so slowly?)
🦈 Then there will be some shared food or mission. Which, of course, was planned by Arlong himself.
🦈 With time, he will give you hints that he is interested in you. He sees something more in you, don't waste it. He won't give you a second chance.
🦈 If you turn out to be a racist fisherman, his interest will drop to zero or even negative.
🦈 Dating started in secret. He needs to keep his sanity, especially since he shows all the time how he hates people. That's why he won't show up anywhere with you.
🦈 After a really long time he will take you as his own. He further presents you as his personal toy. (You are only his.)
🦈 Everyone knows what's really going on. Arlong can't hide his relationship too much.
🦈 The crew knew this because of the bite marks on you. His scent on your skin, the looks he was throwing you. He acted like a silly teenager in love.
🦈 People discovered this through his behavior toward you.
🦈 Now you no longer have your own room, you sleep in bed with him (he can't sleep without you). What are your things? Now they are his things, what's his is yours, what's yours is his.
🦈 This will be difficult, but you will manage together.
🐟 Jinbe 🐟
Twitter / X : @KUYUEN1
🐟 I think it may have started with the fact that you were in the Navy. An aide to some Admiral, come on you didn't even want to be in the Navy. Your father persuaded you, he was a sailor himself and would have liked it to continue, you agreed because you felt sorry for him.
🐟 At one of the Watashka meetings you would meet him.
🐟 He was a daredevil. all these people were like that.
🐟 But he was different, maybe it was the fault of his fish genes? You didn't know that, there was just something different about him
🐟 With subsequent meetings you learned more about him, he was the captain of the Sun Pirates. Wow!
🐟 You were always interested in pirates. They had such a wonderful life, no one made them do anything they didn't want to do. They lived the way they wanted and where they wanted, they did anything they wanted. You longed for such a life.
🐟 Well, going back, how did you meet our dear fisherman? Simple. On the beach!
🐟 So at the next meeting of the warlords, you ran away in the middle. And so no one saw that you were gone. You went to a nearby beach.
🐟 There you sat by the water watching the little turtles that went into the water. The little lucky ones were allowed to live as they wished.
🐟 Then you met Jinbe, he also broke off from a meeting. He was tired and wanted to go swimming, and somehow your acquaintance began. From a conversation about turtles.
🐟 In subsequent meetings you talked more. (You always left at the end to talk about everything and nothing).
🐟 Tortoise turned out to be a shy and kind fisherman. You fell in love with him quickly. (You didn't know he had you too) He often gave you shells or took you to the beach and swam with you (If you don't know how to do it, don't worry, he'll teach you)
🐟 Many conversations and meetings further you could honestly admit that you fell in love with this shark. He was simply idel.
🐟 Then when he was locked up in prison your meetings became very limited, he was a prisoner to this fisherman. He had fewer privileges than the rest.
🐟 But hey! You managed to meet.
🐟 When the day came, Luffy went to rescue his brother Ace. And you finally found out about Jinbe's feelings for you.
🐟 He even shouted out his feelings for you and kidnapped you. Well, you got your better life with your beloved fisherman.
🐟 He treats you like a queen. Even better. Everywhere you go he is there, Such a big turnip of him.
☀ Fisher Tiger ☀
Twitter / X : @KUYUEN1
☀ I'm telling you 99% you are a former slave.
☀ Probably he rescued you from slavery (As did many other slaves). Because of your critical condition, he decided to escort you home himself. (You know sailing the ship and escorting you to the door of the house to be sure you got home safely)
☀ He watched over you while you slept and recovered. He couldn't do otherwise, you were so small and he was afraid for you.
☀ When you woke up he was gone, no one was there. You were terrified, you thought you had been sold to no one you knew. You got up checked that you were dressed and left the cabin.
☀ The fishermen were scared. Not because they were fishermen, no. They were pirates, you heard a lot about what pirates do. Fear won out and you ran.
☀ You climbed to the stork's nest, then to the beam. What a comedy it was.
☀ Tiger came in to take you down and greet you, but your brain thought otherwise the closer it got the more it retreated until it was over.
☀ Looking down, you were too high for the fall to end well, maybe slipping off the sail? Maybe? You were too afraid.
☀ You stepped back a millimeter, that unlucky millimeter. you fell. But our hero Tiger caught you and pulled you in, holding you in his arms. He came down with you and before he could put you down you bit him and ran away.
☀ The crew could not laugh (Except our princess Arlonga).
☀ You hid in the barrel and were not going to leave, Tiger tried many times to talk to you.
☀ It took him two weeks before I began to open up to him. explained to you what he was doing. After a while, you also began to trust his crew.
☀ You learned over the next week that you had a lot in common, you somehow started spending time together.
☀ You don't even know how or when you became a couple. It just somehow came out
☀ Everyone knew about it, as if you didn't know? This fisherman couldn't help but show you affection. Whether it was carrying you everywhere, giving you shells or there pretty pebbles he found.He just had to show you how much he loved you.
☀ And yes, you can swim on it, yes, you can play with its hair. You can much more than the crew.
☀ You like to take advantage of that.
Hody Jones
Tumblr: https://lovely-eve.tumblr.com/post/660896622929117184/more-like-horny-jones-づ-³-づ-3
🚫 Really?
🚫 Are you sure you want this?
🚫 Are you sure?
🚫 Yes? (I sympathize. …. I guess…. No no, it's hot.)
🚫 I can say that somehow I found myself in his good graces.
🚫 You act as his toy, his slave. He doesn't show you much mercy. Come on he won't kill you. (For now)You can directly say that you are his favorite slave, How? I don't know. Tell me.
🚫 You certainly get better treatment, and I'll tell you this. You have a collar around your neck with his initials on it. You sleep in his room but not on his bed. that's what he tells anyone who asks about it. In fact, you're hurling for his teddy bear.
🚫 When he is generous he strokes your head and doesn't humiliate you as much.
🚫 He can hurt you a lot, he doesn't consider you as someone equal to him.
🚫 He will probably kill you if he gets bored.
── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . : ── ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.──
#fishman#one piece#one piece x reader#one piece arlong#one piece jinbe#jinbe#fisher tiger#fisher tiger one piece#hody jones#one piece hody jones#arlong
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I need contact, quick, hug me!
Theme: hugging Tnmn characters(platonic or romantic expect for Anastacha part)
Border by- saradika-graphics
You’ve been desperate for contact, hugs were the only thing that could solve your desperation! You instantly asked your friend for a hug, which they happily gave!
Francis was confused, but still gave you a hug. A confused expression on his face, you giggle. He smiles softly when you walk away, burying this moment in his head. He swears to himself he’ll never forget this! In fact, he saw a pattern when you were desperate for touch, he’d already be there when you were feeling down. His arms wrapped around you, providing comfort. He is not only good at delivering milk, he also delivers nice hugs!
Izaack gives strong hugs, the ones that make you feel like you can’t breathe ! He spins you around, letting out a heart chuckle. Whenever you're doing something, he’ll now sneak up on you and give you a big. You just signed a contract that allows Izaack to give you hugs, and crush your back! You can hear the sounds of his footsteps, but the moment you turn around, he’s already got his arms around you! He’s warm like a heater, you can’t stay in his arms for too long! He pouts when you try to scramble away, eventually letting you go. He’s a cuddly guy! Don’t blame him!
Angus can read your mind, you need hugs? Don’t worry, he’s already making his way to you. All you have to do is open your arms, let him give you a needed hug! He would hold back his teasing, deciding to embarrass you later by telling the others! He can tell that you need touch when you suddenly go quiet if you simple posture, weird if you think about it. But you don’t mind, after all he gives nice hugs!
Nacha hasn’t been able to give hugs or receive, her daughter pretends like she doesn’t want hugs. She was so excited when you came for her for hugs, which she immediately jumped towards you, arms wide open. She embraces you in a tight hug, but it was comforting. She ends up making you stay at her house for dinner, making you all types of food to cheer you up!
Anastacha as much as she’d like to pretend she doesn’t care, she still has a heart. She’s watchful, she can tell the difference. She’d ask what’s wrong and you’d tell her the situation, she scoffs. She opens her arms up, rolling her eyes when you hug her back. Don’t you dare think she liked this! She’s just doing this for you! Totally not looking forward to the next time, she’s totally not a sweetheart inside.
Roman looks at you confused, what are you doing? You laugh, explaining what you're doing. He nods silently, embracing you in a hug. He’s more of the silent type, it’s his wife who makes him talk more. But for your sake, he’ll do it. He cares for you, don’t you dare think he doesn’t! If you need hugs, go to his wife! He wants you to feel better, he just doesn’t know how to do it!
Lois knows very well what’s wrong with you, she waits for you to do something. The moment you tell her she instantly hugs you, the sweet smell of her perfume makes you relax. She smiles, patting your head. She brings you to dinner with her husband, wanting to make you dinner!
Margarette is happy to help! She also enjoys touch! Whenever you need touch she’s happy to help, like how she’ll come to you! You both often hug anytime you see each other, it was just a normal thing. She even made you a cut top, happy to make you smile wider!
Gloria is the best person to come for hugs, she provided the best of comfort. Her husband goes through so much, she had experience with cheering people up! She happily comforted you, happy to make a change in your sour mood. Don’t be shy, come to Gloria if you need anything! She’s here whenever you need it!
Arnold you are making a trade, you get a hug and he gets someone to talk about the troubles of being a writer. But you are happy to make the trade, it’s only fair you can make him better! He’ll allow you to read his book, as long as it makes you feel better! Take his books home if you need to, just let him know how you feel about it!
Alf is worried for you, did someone make you feel like this? Don’t worry, we can take this to the court if need be! Once you feel him it’s alright and you just need a hug, he’ll calm down. He smiles, hugging you. He’ll ask his wife to make you cookies since he’s so busy, feel free to drop by his house whenever you need something!
Rafttellyn already has the oven on, she’ll make sweets to make you feel better! Anything troubling you? You can tell her now while she makes the batter! You just tell her you need a hug, which she’ll drop everything and give you a hug. Your groan, she got batter in you! She laughs, dragging you to the kitchen. You help her make pastries, she is very thankful! Her door is always open for you whenever you need comfort, visit when you need to!
Steven is shocked, don’t worry! Come to his room, we can play with his airplane figures! You both talk a walk together, you're happy that he cares this much. He asks what’s wrong, giving you a worried expression. You tell him how you are feeling, which makes him smile brighter. He quickly envelops you in a hug, a big smile on his face. You both end up spending some time in the park, once in a while seeing airplanes fly by!
Mclooy has his own son, he knows exactly how to handle this! He’d give you a big hug, whispering how you got this! He tosses his cigarette away, not wanting it to bug you. He truly does care for you! Come to his home, him and his son will entertain you! He sends you gifts in hopes it makes you feel better, please tell him that you're feeling better!
Mia she’s a teacher, she sees children’s emotions. It may be different from you but it still works the same, you need a hug and she’s happy to give you one. You could feel her hair tickling your shoulder, making you giggle. She gives you a confused look, which you laugh at. She breaks out into a smile, laughing with you. You can’t hide your emotion around her, she knows!
Dr.W is so confused, he barely even notices. You have to come up to him for comfort, which he’d panic and try his best to help. He’ll give you a quick hug, pulling you to his apartment. He instantly pulls out a notebook and listens to any words you say, giving you little advice. He doesn’t want these feelings to grow and cause you a big problem! Best to take care of it now! You now go to him whenever you need someone to listen and give you advice!
Robertsky & Albertsky share looks with each other, they both give you a hug at the same time. You three break out into laughter, it was hard to hug them both! They take you to their shoe company, letting you keep them company while they work. They were loud and provided a cozy atmosphere for you, you were happy you came to them!
Elenois’s & Selenne’s neutral face slowly turns into a big smile, group hug! They envelop you with a hug, they smell of their perfume clouding your head. They take you to their room, grabbing their makeup. You look stunning without makeup, but do you want to try it? They try out so many colors, taking professional pictures for you! They end up doing your makeup whenever a big event is happening for you, always giving you hype!
Taglist: @sidhion
#Tnmn#that’s not my neighbor#fluff#tooth rotting fluff#chubby reader#fem reader#female reader#gender neutral reader#gn reader#francis mosses#Milkman#izaack gauss#angus ciprianni#anastacha mikaelys#roman stilnsky#margarette bubbles#gloria schmicht#arnold schmicht#Mia stone#dr. w. afton#robertsky peachman#albertsky peachman#elenois sverchzt#selenne sverchzt
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Just Too Sweet
Synopsis- You were such an angel, always the good girl, however you had a tendency to hangout with the “bad kids” in school. Your close friends, Emma and Mikey, have always been there for you as is the rest of the gang so it’s only natural you hangout at their house often. No one said you would be falling in love with your friend’s older brother.
Inspired by “Too Sweet” by Hozier, because it plagues my mind daily but I love it!
TW: Age gap, best friend’s brother trope, kinda angst I guess, ambiguous ending, reader wants Shin but he doesn’t wanna corrupt her life, I think that’s it sorry if this is kinda rusty lol x3 proof read but also not lmfao
It was a normal morning after sleeping over your friend Emma’s house, you’ve been around her and her brothers since childhood. You tend to wake up after Emma but she stays to herself in bed before she has to make breakfast so you venture out in hopes to help your friend set up the kitchen.
Shin’s awake and already chilling in the living room when y/n gets there. “You’re quite the early bird today” she says not knowing that in truth he hadn’t slept hardly at all last night.
He replies with a soft smile and small chuckle “yeah, well the guys and I were out late at Wakasas’ apartment.”
Y/n looks at the older boy knowing now that him being out late meant he probably didn’t sleep a wink. She scolds him, explaining how he needs to take better care of himself and try to get some sleep every once in a while.
Shin always appreciates your worry for his health, you take good care of yourself from your hair to your clothes and especially that oh so sweet innocence in your eyes. He prays no one takes that away from you
After breakfast you head to Emma’s room to get your clothes on for the day. Mikey, Emma, and friends call you from outside to see if you’re ready. “Stop flirting with Shin and get your butt out here already!” Senju yells. Y/n blushes, not like they both didn’t realize that there was SOMETHING between them that was a little different from just being the older brother and you being his siblings’ friend.
Y/n rushes out the door waving and shouting a “see ya ‘round! Please make sure to eat and drink water!!” before closing the door behind her. Now Shin is left to his thoughts again, the ones he loves and loathes at the same time.
A couple days later you’re all at Mikey’s again planning to go out to some arcade. Everyone is laughing and chatting. Shinichiro is lounging on the sofa again, staring unabashedly at y/n. Thoughts race through his mind about how stunning she is when she throws her head back in laughter, that sweet smile gracing her tender features. Now Shinichiro has had his eyes on a plethora of women before, which he has had no such luck with at all, but y/n…she was so perfect. So perfect in fact that he even knew her parents thought highly of her, so much so that he knows for a fact that they would certainly not approve of an older man whom also used to run a large biker gang as her lover.
His thoughts are pulled away by loud knocking resonating through the living room. As he strides to the front door he can feel y/n’s eyes on him-even for just a moment-and he’s frozen, hand on the doorknob, as if in a spell.
Shinichiro finally opens the door to allow his friends inside. Benkei and Wakasa giving each other knowing glances once they see Mikey and ALL of his friends, especially the sweet, curly headed girl sat by the glass doors to the backyard; it’s as if the sun’s rays highlighter her innocence.
It’s late by the time y/n comes back with Mikey, Emma, Draken, and Senju. Everyone decides to spend the night again at the Sanos’ and they soon head to their respective rooms.
Shin and his friends are all in the garage talking while smoking or having a drink.
Takeomi blows out a puff of smoke,”I know something’s on your mind man, you only drink that stuff when your mind is in a fog.” All eyes are on the two brunette boys now, waiting to see how they respond to each other. Takeomi is the first to speak again, “so where’s that little bunny you’ve been eyeing?”
Shin closes his eyes before twirling around his glass of whisky, “I let her go.” He looks up at ceiling, “there’s no way I deserve something as sweet as her, no matter how badly I want her.”
Wakasa blows smoke off to the side then looks up at his friend from his seat on the floor, “then why’s she heading this way with your little brother?”
Shinichiro looks out the window to see y/n, bewilderment in his eyes, as she races toward him like a bride to her groom. Are the two willing to take the risk? Surprising himself, he stands, placing his empty whiskey cup down and heads toward the door, swinging it open to let the younger girl into his embrace with open arms. It was just so natural to him. Like it was everything he ever wanted.
~wanted to thank @i-literally-cant-with-this for letting me ask for a proof read of the outline for this :) thanks babes!~
#anime#tokyo revengers#shinichiro sano#shinichiro sano x reader#shinichiro x y/n#tokyo rev#tokyo rev x reader#tr fanfic#manjiro sano#emma sano
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So it’s a follow up of my previous post. it’s Tim perspective on how Damian changed and his reactions to them.
Tim wos tired but that’s nothing new. He should have slept at least two hours at night, but what’s done is done. He sits at the kitchen table sipping his third espresso and watching his siblings. When Bruce enters he looks at those present and seems to count. Ha that might be needed Tim thinks. After third attempt of his murder by demon brat that’s expected. Speaking of demons… Tim hasn’t seen Damian outside patrol for quite long. Not that he is complaining not having constant threat to your life around is nice but demon still should be at manor. Maybe Tim missed something when he wos looking into his case for last two weeks…
-Does someone saw Damian in manor lately?
When no one answers the question Tim sits straighter. That’s bad news really bad news.
-he wos at patrol tonight but outside from that no.
Dick answers. Well it’s Sunday at 10:00 in the morning. It’s not impossible for Damian to go out but where? It’s not as he has any friends. Tim snorts to his thoughts. He imagined demon brat talking to other kids „incompetent idiots that’s not how you hold katana!!!”. So no he doubts that possibility. He can see Bruce’s jaw tighten in worry. Ok so they need to find the brat. Before they can get serious about any action they hear front doors open and Alfred greetings
-Good morning Master Damian
And the demon enters kitchen as if nothing wos wrong. As if going out of manor as 10 year old alone wos acceptable. He greets father then Dick and to his suprise him also. And tries to go to the living room but Bruce stops him by putting a hand on his shoulder.
- where were you?
Tim winces it sounds more as a growl than a perfectly civilized question. Bruce parenting skills are shit as always. He knows that it’s out of worry but still….
-I wos on a walk
Damian is perfectly calm. That’s good. Tim is too tired for furious demon right now.
- who give you permission to go out without supervision?
And Damian watches him carefully. Tim can see him taking slow deep breaths. Huh, weird.
-you told me to make friends so I am working on it.
Tim almost spits his coffee. Working on making friends!? He hopes that any children that Damian chased with his katana are unharmed.
- you shouldn’t go out without anyone knowing where you are going. You need permission
-I am not a kid I can take care of myself!
There is the demon that Tim knows.
-it’s not a matter of being a kid or not. I need to know where you are as your guardian I am responsible for your safety
-tyt it’s pretty clear that I can protect myself
-but in this family you don’t need to. We have different rules.
And Tim saw something that he never saw before. Damian hestitated. Took a deep breath and asked like a civilized human being without anger or insults
- then if I inform you where I am going and when I will be back I can go?
Tim can’t believe it. Demon brat is… talking. With words like normal human being. Tim checks his coffee. He really needs to sleep more. Halucinations are bad sign.
-
But sleeping didn’t change the fact that Damian acted weird. After school and patrols he disappeared for „walks”. Tim knew something wos going on. But Bruce let it go. Damian started to inform him where he went and for how long and it actually checked. Dick even checked his location and everything lined up. But that wosnt the end of strange behaviors from Damian. The demon brat often glanced at Tim when they were in the same room. Not stared but glanced trying to be subtle. Well like for assassin training he wosnt so stealthy as he probably thought. Tim expected another attack soon. He started to carry battarangs with him around the house. when he started doing that and Damian caught on he did even weirder shit.
Imagine one evening when they were all in the living room and Damian enters. Of course with his katana that he keeps with himself at all times in the manor becouse Bruce forbidden him outside of hause and procedes to lock eyes with Tim and leaves his weapon near the door. Tim is staring at Damian as if he grew second head and he isn’t the only one.
From that time whenever Damian is in the same room as Tim he leaves his katana close to the door. Tim smells a trap. Whatever the brat is doing it can’t be good. Even if that gesture is kind of reassuring…. Tim is no fool. He will not be swayed by nice words or acknowledgment of his work or even leaving weapons outside of range of Damian’s hand.
One day after patrol, when Tim started to get ready for going to his room. To work of course, becouse the sharp eyes of Alfred didn’t leave him for a moment and distracted him from his case. He realised he is not alone. Damian followed him like shadow. Tim didn’t speed up his walking to not let the demon realize that he knew about his presence. Slowly he closed fingers around his batarang to make sure he will par first blow of katana. They were before Tim’s room when Damian started to speak
- Drake can we talk?
That sounded off. Damian didn’t talk he stabbed. More often Tim than anything else. But he sounded hestitant…. Well he has a weapon and when they enter his room they will be on his ground. He will know environment and hidden weapons there. He will have huge adventage when the fight will barek out.
-Sure why not
Tim let’s them in. He allows Damian to enter first. That way he has his back to Tim it’s safer that way. When the door closes Damian turns around Tim grips batarang in his pocked and waits for the start…. And nothing. Damian stands in the middle of his room locks his eyes with Tim’s and glances at his hand in his pocked. In the well lighted room it’s no mistakening that shape for anything different than a weapon. And then his guest procedes to holds his hands up palms to Tim in universal sign of no violence. Tim is dumbfounded. Damian clears his throat and starts:
- Drake I have been doing some reaserch… and it turned out I wos…. Misinformed. My past actions towards you were caused by my lack of knowledge and I shouldn’t have attacked you. I will not repeat that mistake again. I mean no harm to you…. Anymore
- What? Misinformed?! You stabbed me! Multiple times!
- I am aware Drake And I…
- no if you think that I will buy this story then You are delusional and
- I am sorry Timothy!
Damian cut him off. And Tim shut his mouth and looked at Damian. Really looked. He wos fidgeting and he actually flinched when he raised his voice. He stared at the floor and squized his hand so hard that it must have hurt. Tim stared in shock.
- Holy shit you are serious
Damian raised his gaze at Tim. And nodded. For once he looked as 10 year old boy. God Tim wos a dumbass. Damian WOS 10 years old. And lately he tried to be non-threatening towards Tim. Every weird action linked into a pretty clear picture. it looks like Damian finally realized his actions were wrong and came to Tim…. And Tim shouted at him.
- I ok let’s make things clear you realized you were wrong after what 8 months of leaving under one roof together? And…
Damian started to shrink in on himself and Tim stopped himself shit he wos doing it wrong. He crouched to be at Damian’s eye level and started again.
- No sorry first things first thank you for telling me. I appreciate the gesture. And lack of weapons for last month… It’s good to know you won’t try to kill me anymore. I don’t think I can just forget of what you did but… we can try to work it out. What do you say?
-that sounds reasonable Timothy.
Wow its so weird to agree with the brat… no Damian. Wait did he call him by his name!? While Tim wos trying to organize his thoughts Damian murmured something that caught his attention, that probably wosnt for Tim to hear.
-he wos right…
- It wos draining patrol I won’t take more of your time Drake. Good night
-who wos right?
Tim wosnt going to let that go. Someone talked Damian into doing this and he needs to know who. Dick wos unsuccessful in teaching Damian in basic human interactions. So must be someone outside. Bruce is too much emotionally conspirated, maybe Alfred. If yes then there is no reason to worry. But someone from outside could have hidden goals. It wos dangerous. Damian seemed suprised by his question but did not hestitate.
- My friend
And wosnt that a mistery. Tim needed to check that „friend” no matter what. He could be using Damian or plotting to hurt Wayne’s. But he wosnt going to let his suspicion break just created string of trust with his younger brother. He will check that stranger on his own in a way that Damian won’t realize. For know that wos enough. Damian wos opening the doors to go to his room when Tim added
- what happend to Timothy?
Damian slammed the door in his face. And Tim burst out laughing. He wos not going to let that go.
#dpxdc#dp x dc crossover#dc x dp#tim drake#bruce wayne#dick grayson#league of assassins#siblings#family bonding#trust#trust issues#danny phantom#danny fenton
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♡︎♡︎ SWEET.
simon riley x reader
synopsis: you and your fiancé were settling in for the night, ready to go to bed until you insisted on doing a little skincare with him— he didn't know it'd bring about old memories.
tags: fluff, slight angst/lots of comfort, mentions of blood
word count: 1.8k
There you were again— another night of standing in front of the mirror, your menagerie of face products messily lined upon the white-marbled sink, the hum of a low fan serving as white noise as you got ready for bed. The bathroom’s humidity welcomed you, having just gotten out of a well-deserved shower. A white towel wrapped snugly around you as you reached your hand out to press it against the fogged glass, rubbing the condensation away in short and swift motions. You leaned over the sink in a feeble attempt to get closer to it, the edge of the sink poking at your stomach as your eyes squinted in concentration. An exasperated sigh left your lips, eyes daring to roll back into the back of your head out of sheer annoyance from the inconvenience. A sudden hand snaked around your waist, pulling you into its warmth as you jolted up out of surprise, your shoulders loosening once you put two and two together.
“Boo.” The gruff voice whispered, his voice reverberating from his chest into your frame. A huff of amusement escaped through his nose, seeming quite pleased with his ability to still catch you off guard doing such mundane things as taking care of yourself. He was met with a gentle elbow to his hardened abdomen, your elbow seeming to take more of the blow than him. “Rude, Simon.. I was busy!” You griped, reprimanding your fiancé for sneaking up on you when he was aware of how much you hated that. Years of military training seemed to only hone his stealth rather than diminish it, his tendency to loom in hallways and corners out of pure habit by now. “Uh-huh. Bet you were, love. Quite a shame.” Simon supplied simply, unphased by words that lacked any venom in them. He slipped past you with ease, extending his arm out towards the lid of the toilet seat, letting it fall as he took a seat atop it, legs spreading as he drank in your figure. Simon did this often, almost following you around like a lost puppy— dark eyes simply fixated on you and enamored with your movements. “I was! I was about to put on a face mask.” You said as your hand reached for a nearby packet, the small gray packet crinkling with each movement. Simon’s eyes narrowed in examination of the product, brows slightly furrowed as he took it from you without further hesitation, his eyes scanning it, practically burning holes into it. “Charcoal... paper mask. What s’all this for?” He asked with a hint of interest in his tone, his brows knitted in skepticism. He was aware of your interest in skincare, yet the topic remained foreign to him for the most part. He had no need for it although his skin was beyond needing care. A couple of ingrown hairs from messily shaving in the wrong direction, and purple under eyes that did anything and everything but blend into his skin. Skincare— what the hell does anyone need skincare for? Are soap and water not enough these days?
“It’s supposed to reduce oil by pulling blackheads out or something, I think.”
“Your skin’s oily?”
“Isn’t yours too?”
“Dunno. Just usually scrub the shit out of it and roll out of bed good as new...” He mused, rotating the packet between his index finger and middle, offering it back to you after he was done. Being in the military left little room to worry about the condition of his skin, the only liquid meeting his skin being water, sweat, and blood— his own... most of the time. It was a folly thought to think you believed he was informed about the condition of his skin, stifling a small laughter caught in his throat. You gently took it from him, ripping the top of the plastic packaging off and absentmindedly setting it aside before an idea crossed your mind. Simon sensed this, his eyebrows slightly raised as interest peeked through his poker face.
“Si…” You began sweetly, your voice comically raising an octave in an attempt to persuade him. As predicted, Simon’s resolve slowly crumbled at the sweetness in your voice, mentally cursing himself for being such a sucker for you. “What is it?” He softly inquired, his head cocked slightly to the side as he awaited your words. “Would you want to try this with me?”
"Try what?"
"A face mask— don't act stupid."
"If I wanted to act stupid, I'd take notes from you, lovie."
"Oh, ha-ha." You stuck your tongue out at him, eliciting a huff of amusement from him. He remained quiet as he gently took ahold of your hand, getting your fingers to loosen their grip on the packet. His eyes scanned the foreign piece of plastic, reading the ingredients it contained. You caught his attention, moving closer to him as you pointed out the ingredients.
"These are just all the things it's mixed with. Niacinamide is supposed to help with oil reduction, the aloe is for calming inflamed skin..." You trailed off as you gestured for him to read the rest. He gave you a look that practically screamed, 'You don't need any of this', but he obliged in the directions you gave him anyway. Everything checked out with what you said, not that he'd doubt your knowledge. You always knew about little facts, odds and ends here and there-- maybe that's why you kept wiping the floor with him whenever you two would watch Jeopardy.
He inhaled deeply for a moment before letting the puff of air out through parted lips, finally giving you a nod of acknowledgment at your earlier offer. "Yeah, sure." He agreed, shrugging it off as if it were no big deal. The corners of your lips tugged to form a huge grin as he handed the packet back to you to rip open. You took a step forward between his legs, his dark brown eyes watching you with rapt attention. Pale eyelashes flicked up to trail your features as you struggled to open the packet, much to his delight. The shape of your lips, the way strands of your hair would fall into your face and catch against your long lashes that dropped over your eyes— Simon was by no means a saint, but God, did he want to be one for you. His hand found its way to your clothed hip, his thumb rubbing small circles over the fabric.
"Aha! Got it!" You threw your hands up in the air, fists clenched as you celebrated your small victory of getting the packet opened. "Ready?" You eagerly asked, practically teeming with joy. He stiffened slightly at your words, his eyes straying from yours for a moment. He didn't know what came over him— you had seen his face a thousand times, hell, it wasn't like he was wearing a mask now. Maybe it was the way that all these face products served as a reminder that he didn't have perfect skin. Better yet, it served as a reminder he was far from perfect himself. Scars littered his body, some from even when he hadn't been in the military— each scar on his body told a story, some nastier than others. "Yeah." He responded bluntly, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. You were his fiancé and accepted him wholeheartedly— he knew that. Your relationship had been through hell and back to get to where you are now. Countless missions he had gone on that you were convinced he wasn't going to come back from, dreading the day that you'd only have his dog tag to remember him by. You were the only person he had left and gave a promise of coming back to— everything be damned if he didn't claw his way back to you every time.
You fished the paper mask out of the packaging that was soaked in product, his eyebrow twitching in curiosity about how it was going to be applied. "Close your eyes." You cooed as he stared at you for a moment before his eyelashes fluttered shut. Your expression softened as you straightened the mask before placing it over his face, the coolness of the mask sending a chill up his spine. You began smoothing out the mask with your thumb, delicately mapping out his features. His nose was crooked from the time he told you he broke his nose at age 18 for getting into some barfight at a local pub, which served as no surprise since you were well aware of his temper when it was directed towards others. Craters of acne scarring embedded into his cheeks from his nails digging at the painful hormonal acne he had suffered from until the ripe age of 22. The scar on his chin from when he had scraped it on a rock as a rookie in training for the military. All of what made Simon, Simon.
"You're handsome." You said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I know it." He replied, his voice mirroring yours. You gave him a weak smile as you shook your head, your thumb still smoothing down the edges of the mask. He always hid behind his cocky demeanor, vulnerability masked by his dry humor. "No, I mean it." You mumbled as a moment of silence fell between you two, filled by the low hum of the bathroom fan. His hand was still resting on your hip, his thumb pressing into the soft flesh blanketed by polyester. He didn't say anything in response, opting to say nothing as he blinked a few times, his gaze falling on a nearby bath towel that was strung up to dry. Even though his words failed him, you could've sworn you saw a hint of a smile threatening to grace his features.
The rest of the evening continued with him learning more about skincare, letting you ramble on about which products you were looking forward to getting in the future. Night fell as quickly as the evening ended, landing you two in the comfort of your shared bed. You fell asleep before he did, practically swallowed whole by the cotton blanket you two had picked out a week ago. Maybe it's too big, he thought to himself. His eyes landed on your sleeping form, watching as your chest rose and fell rhythmically. Your hair was sprawled across the pillow as moonlight filtered in through the curtains, almost giving an illusion of an aureole of light surrounding you— he could've mistaken you for an angel itself if he were half-asleep, honestly. He reached out for your hand, gingerly taking it in his as he admired the ring he had proposed to you with. His index finger grazed across the band of gold, the reality that you were his pulling at his heartstrings.
He fell asleep with you in his arms that night, peppering kisses to your temple before bringing his face down to rest in the crook of your neck with him tucked at your side. He wasn’t burdened by nightmares for the first time in a while— he dreamed.
banner credit: @/saradika
#cod x reader#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#call of duty#call of duty x reader#simon riley x you#cod mw2#ghost x reader#ghost#ghost mw2#simon riley x y/n#fluff#simon riley fluff
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hello >_<!! Since this account made me obsessed with Geo i found the courage to ask a request :3 (imsorryifit'snotcomfortableforyou😭)
Geo x Clumsy GN!reader (like, falling into the thinks you would least expect, so me frfr)
Bumblerbee (Geo x Clumsy! MC/Reader)
First and foremost, welcome to the Geo cult appreciation blog, Anon. Secondly, do not be shy to ask me whatever request you desire, I'm happy to be getting anything, and the fact you entrust me with this is an honorary privilege in itself. ❤️ φ(*⌒▽⌒)ﾉ
Anyway! I hope you enjoy Anon! d=(´▽｀)=b
- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer
Bumbler: someone who makes mistakes because of incompetence.
—---------------------------------------
Geo was mildly concerned when you fell down the stairs. Then you smacked into a pole. Then you tripped on a branch.
All in the span of 13 fucking minutes.
It was honestly mildly respectable, how often one can simply bumble, trip and tumble around like you did.
You always seemed to be elsewhere mentally, not focused on your surroundings, or daydreaming away in that gorge- pretty head of yours.
People often made fun of you for it, labelling you as the school's klutz.
Unfortunately, said people who targeted you were also the same girls who liked to pick on Brittney; so when she and Crowe made you the groups' newest appendage (due to the fact Brit felt protective over you), he then began to bear witness to your marvellous collapses every time he saw you at lunch.
He expected you to cry when he first saw you fell, scraping the skin off your shins, but you instead winced and seemed to take in the fact you were an existing, living being; and you'd try to not slip away into your thoughts again.
He decided after a while that your mettle for falling must be sturdy, if you don't simply learn to pay attention to your immediate vicinity after each time it happened.
Eventually you and him held a conversation, and he acknowledged that you were...surprisingly capable.
You were intelligent, witty and even mildly attractive.
And you didn't make him want to commit arson everytime he saw you, so he grew accustomed to your existence.
Then he started enjoying it. A bit too much.
The amount of times you're either reading or otherwise preoccupied and on the verge on slipping, bumping, or falling into/onto something is astonishing.
So he eventually pulls you aside and bluntly tells you to pay attention to your surroundings, lest you one day get hurt.
"You're an idiot. What happens if you bludgeon your head in? Get a concussion?"
"Ohoho! Is Geo worried about my safety?"
"No. I am simply tired of watching you make a circus out of yourself."
"So you do care!"
"I do not."
"Liar, why did you pull me aside then?"
"Shut up."
Anyway, he decides if you won't take care of yourself, he's gonna supervise you.
Then he notices the little skips in your step, the faraway glances you give at the sky when you deem it pretty (which is fucking always, to his dismay).
That's when you got stung by a bee.
And also when he started referring to you as a bumblerbee.
His bumblerbee.
People were obviously discombobulated at the fact he was essentially tailing you everywhere you went, but all he had to do was gift them the most malicious side-eye he would conjure.
(Geo would side-eye so hard though holy shit).
If you were distracted, he would make you tell him about your day, desiring for you to start rambling to him so he can take notes find out more about this clumsy bumblerbee that he's invested in.
Eventually your charm gets to him. He starts becoming more and more fond of you (pff, as if he wasn't already).
He now basically is always ready to firmly stop you from falling/bumping into something.
Until he realises you also get pushed down stairs for shits and giggles.
And these people already harmed Brittney, so obviously he already knows their addresses, credit card numbers and their workplaces.
If they end up temporarily disappearing/hospitalised, he had nothing to do with it.
And Geo has no reason to lie, now does he?
(Don't answer that).
Likes to watch you read, or better yet, tell him about your thoughts, he wants to know every single little detail about you what you like, dislike, want to set on fire, etc.
Acts nonchalant, but is secretly trying not to melt into a puddle.
His desire to protect you from other worthless people (and inanimate objects) is inhumanely strong. Expect him to start showing it more often as the months go by.
Asks you out when you give him a potted plant. He didn't even realise he did, he was too excited.
(You said yes. Obviously. I mean, you don't have a choice; but do you care? No! You love him too).
Will probably accidentally call you bumblebee at some point (you never let him live it down, dw).
Geo really likes making sure you don't trip, after all, it means he can be close to you for as long as he wants. Which is forever.
And you're more than happy with that.
#geo subaru oogami#reminder that geo is superior#geo oogami#tkatb#the kid at the back#tkatb vn#tkatb x reader#tkatb geo#naur but bumblerbee is a banger idea ngl#uh praying i wrote the clumsiness part well enough eheheh
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#this is something I think and worry about too often#thank god we can send comments from sideblogs#but I hate the fact that we can't do the same with asks#sometimes I mention it in asks to people I haven't talked to before#(when they're commenting on one of my gifsets mostly)#also I don't mind people knowing and using my real name here but I have to admit I wish it was more common#for denial sakes or whatever#(as if anyone I know url could find it)
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