#I’ll explain later I promise

[toastthewolfie]

Very random OC lore

The garden of the fallen

a place where those who have fallen from our life lay to rest

To one who wasn’t aware of its meaning, it seemed like a pretty little garden filled with trees and other plants, yet to Echo it was a cruel reminder of the one she had lost.

That blue-hair avian, her partner, murdered by that…demon.

she can vividly remember blood pouring out of the avian as she held them, praying for a day that would never come.

that demon had taken the moon to their sun and fueled the fire, and Echo was going to stop at nothing to avenge them.

Even if it killed them.

[silverdgolden]

WRENCH || WICKED AU DESIGN

I’ll post more about it later, but here’s my design for Wrench in my Wicked AU!!! I’ll give a littleeeeee backstory and this’ll probably get redone, but it’s the basics and that’s what we need for now!!! This Wrench is different from my usual Wrench but similar, they are two different entities just following my design headcannons if that makes sense

NOW I would like to preface that this AU follows the GENERAL plot of Wicked but many things are changed to better fit STEX characters and the world of STEX. I’ll explain more later, but we’re gonna start with a bit on Wrench!

Wrench was built a caboose, but after an accident that left him totaled he had to be converted to an electric train, and specifically a medcar. But, during the conversation, his body somehow began to reject it, and odd things occurred. He mutated, sparked with violent red electricity, and seemed to burn and singe. This gave him pointed ears that he can move around, black eyes, clawed hands, and a number of scars across his body. Rejected by most, he still studied hard snd became a very talented and very skilled medcar, but the hospital he took a job at hired him more out of pity. They shoved him in a backward, where he only ever worked on surgeries where he would never be seen by a patient, or given the job of taking care of long terms. Though many patients reported… odd things. Floating objects, flickering lights, and other strange happenings whenever the medcar was around. Wonder what that could be…

[quietlyblooms-gone]

to be short and sweet about it, i’m alive!! and chiyo is too!! so are my other muses!! i’m just having a wee bit of a struggle and haven’t been here bc of that. i’ll be back, i promise! i just need a little more time. i’m sorry to anyone i worried, and thank you to everyone for being patient with me 💜

[spineless-lobster]

If anyone is willing to hear my mad ramblings I am itching to explain how favoured son, while being about heracles, could also be about achilles (I will never fail to make every song about my blorbos)

[ehveerivv]

My two brain cells hit just the right angle and I’ve got an artistic idea for once and I’m off tmr so I’ve got ALL day to do it :)

[skywardangel]

Neurodivergent & Neurotypical thoughts are just Eldritch being & completely normal human, Discuss

[adelina-shifts]

I Might Have Found the Real Reason We Struggle to Shift After Years of Research — and How to Finally Do It

(credits to Kvoyox on reddit for writing and researching and @alliecat2099 for bringing this to my attention)

First of all, I’m not going to talk about methods, programming your mind, and all of that stuff. What I want to explain is something that I’ve been asking myself since the day I discovered shifting—and probably you did too. What is the reason for why most of us cannot “willingly” shift even though we try so hard? And what is the key that can set us free? And I might have found the answer. Of course you don’t have to believe me; you can decide for yourself if you want to trust my research or not. But I personally believe that this is the answer that can set anyone free.

This is a long text, but I promise it'll be worth your time.

Chapter 1: The Hidden Enemy.

Many people believe that our subconscious is the enemy. And while we argue with it, trying to make sense of our “incapability” to shift, there is something else lurking in the shadows. It deprives us of our powers. It makes us wear a mask, seeing only the illusions of life while reality is much different than we perceive it. And that’s the problem: perception.

And on top of everything, this hidden enemy seems to have such immense power that it can actively block us from shifting. And everyone trying to argue that there is nothing that can stop us from shifting, then I have to ask you… why doesn’t everyone shift on command then?

Yes, we shift all the time. Literally billions of times per second, and I’m not exaggerating. But why doesn’t it work when we WANT to shift? Shifting is completely natural, and we already do it. But when we want to do it, it doesn’t work?

The answer is simple. The enemy I’m talking about is our ego. The ego naturally resists change. It wants control. It clings to identity and safety. It fears losing “this” reality. It wants to protect the self. And shifting threatens everything it thinks you are.

It cannot stop us from shifting, but it can block us from experiencing shifting. Because the ego’s job is to make sense of reality. It directly correlates with our perception, all our senses. But what we have to realize is that our perception is a lie. It’s all just an illusion; there is no cause in anything. Reality is fluid; it changes all the time, but our ego gives us the illusion of a strict, solid reality. It imprisons us in a world we don’t want to be in, but what we don’t understand is… that we ourselves, therefore, don’t want to shift. I’ll explain this later on.

Chapter 2: Reasons.

Let me give you some more examples of why I think that our ego is the sole reason why we don’t shift when we want to.

1. In the so-called “Void State,” we are just pure consciousness. This implies that we don’t have a vessel (body) and therefore no ego controlling our perception. Therefore, we can simply shift without any boundaries.

2. In a deep meditative state, the chances of shifting seem to increase a lot. This is because we are more disconnected from our perception (ego) of our current reality.

3. Based on people’s experiences, many people shifted when they were younger. Some of you might not even remember it happening, but it probably did. The reason for that is that children are controlled by their subconscious mind (theta state). As they grow older, the ego begins to develop and take control of the body, making it “harder” to willingly shift.

4. The law of assumption (programming yourself to be a shifter) works 100% because when you do it, your ego begins to accept the idea of you being in completely different realities. You begin to identify yourself as such a person. And when that is the case, the ego cannot stop you anymore because it “believes” in it.

5. It becomes easier to shift in lucid dreams and the astral realm because your ego is not as strong and present as it is when you are awake. Still, it exists there, and that’s why it is not guaranteed to shift through these (you still have ego goals). In the astral realm, however, you can achieve states of higher consciousness where you can free yourself from the ego, allowing you to effortlessly shift.

6. People who shift for the first time often see great results first, but then, as they try again and again, progress seems to come to a halt. Your ego identity begins to change from “Hey, maybe I can do that” to “It doesn’t work; I can’t do it.”

7. Some people manage to shift, return to this reality, and realize that they can’t do it anymore and struggle again. They returned to their ego-self, stopping them from shifting again.

8. Some people grow up in a spiritual, open environment. The ego, therefore, is more used to such ideas and experiences, allowing them to shift easier.

Chapter 3: Understanding Ego

I’m going to give you the reason now that explains why you don’t shift.

Because you are not conscious. You are ego. Let me explain.

Currently, your ENTIRE identity is your ego. You have a name, a personality, a job, thoughts, emotions, etc., etc., etc. You go through your day believing that you ARE your egoic mind. It became your identity, your everything. Every thought it thinks, every emotion it creates, you believe that it is all you. You are so connected to this illusion that you aren’t even conscious. In fact, for almost the entire day, you are unconscious. Because you think all the time. And that is the reason why you don’t shift. Because you are not conscious, you are not aware.

Isn’t it true that you think all day long? You’re always in your mind, thinking about the past and the future, thinking about random scenarios that don’t even make sense. Even when you’re trying to shift, you are still in your mind, mindlessly repeating affirmations, asking yourself over and over again if it is working or not. Every time you judge or label something, you are in your mind. In those situations, you ARE your mind, but this is not how it is supposed to be. You are supposed to be consciousness, not your egoic mind.

I tell you right now: if you manage to disconnect from your egoic mind, stop identifying with it, and identify with the true source (consciousness) again, you’ll be able to instantly shift wherever you want to go. This is not a theory but a fact.

When your ego doesn’t want to leave this reality because it doesn’t like change, this automatically translates then into YOU not wanting to shift. Because you are still identified with your egoic mind. It doesn’t matter how badly you want it deep down; your ego, and therefore yourself, is stopping you from achieving it. If you manage to become identified with consciousness again, it will work.

I want you to truly grasp how much you identify with your ego. Every thought you think, every emotion you allow to be created, every time you judge or label something, every single time you do something like this, you are in your egoic mind. The voice, and the images in your mind… You have to realize that all these things are not you; they are products of the egoic mind. But they seem as if you created them, which is not true. Even when you consciously create a thought, you are not the thinker! You are still the awareness behind it.

This is not how it is supposed to be. You have to understand that your mind is a TOOL. But right now, it is nothing like that. It enslaves you; you have no control over it. Excessive thinking is not normal! You are supposed to be able to think when you want to think. Normal is a silent mind, not a constantly chattering mind. You cannot stop thinking, you cannot control your mind, because it took control over you. It uses you. And then you begin to identify with it; slowly, as you grow older, it becomes your entire identity, and you begin to lose touch with who you really are: consciousness, the silent watcher. As long as you cannot control your mind and just stop thinking when you want to, then the mind is using you. You are not the thinker; you are the awareness behind it.

Chapter 4: The Now—How to Escape Your Egoic Mind.

The only way to escape your ego is to become present in the Now. Now implies no thoughts, no mind activity in general. In the Now, you are fully present of what is happening around you; you are not stuck in your mind; you are actually experiencing with your full awareness what is going on. In that moment, there are no limitations, no blockages, no fears, nothing. All there is, is peace. Nothing matters; all you do is be, that’s it. And when this happens, there is no ego, no gatekeeper stopping you from shifting. The ego cannot exist in a state of presence; it cannot sustain itself when you’re truly present. I see so many people talking about fears, blockages, etc. but all of them wouldn't matter if you weren't identified with your ego and be present.

The problem is that your identification with your egoic mind is so strong that it stops you entirely from shifting. But every single day, there are certain situations where the portal to your DR is wide open, and that is when you are fully immersed in the Now.

I want to give you some exercises that you can do from now on. I’ve learned them from Eckhart Tolle. The goal is to take energy away from your egoic mind and into your consciousness. This way, you'll begin to realize that you aren't your mind and you'll gain more and more power.

Make sure not to be in your mind all day long. For example, when you’re doing certain tasks like cleaning or brushing your teeth, etc., try to fully immerse yourself in the situation. Don’t think; be aware of what is happening and how it feels. Be the awareness being aware. Don’t think about the past or future; draw full attention to what you’re doing, even if it is something as simple as going downstairs and feeling the steps and the weight of your body. In addition, focus on inner body sensations to keep yourself in the present moment. Those sensations are subtle vibrations you can feel for example in your hands and feet (and your entire body).

When you have excessive thought streams, detach from them by watching from afar. Don’t identify with them, don’t judge them, and don’t suppress them. That's because when you do judge, you're just giving energy to your egoic mind. Be the silent watcher, simply observing those thoughts. You will realize that you are not those thoughts; they just come in. What you really are is the consciousness being aware of them. Don’t even identify yourself with the thoughts you consciously think. What you’re doing is using your mind as a tool, creating a thought. But you are not the mind, not the thoughts. You as consciousness decided to use your mind as a tool to create a thought. In addition, try not to think as much as you can. Once you become aware of your thoughts, they’ll eventually subside anyway. Become silent in your mind, and within that silence a portal to your desired reality will open. Because silence is the key. The noise the mind creates blocks you from shifting. When you manage to become completely silent, no judgement, no overthinking, and a clear intention to shift or go to the void, it'll happen.

3. When trying to shift, set an intention beforehand. You can lie down or sit; it doesn’t really matter. Become relaxed by taking a few deep breaths. Now, there are a few things you can do. First, if you are really good at visualization, make sure to fully immerse yourself in the picture you see and make it feel as real as possible. Make it happen right now. Don’t perceive it as a picture; BE in that picture in the Now. Secondly, you don’t need to visualize. You can also immerse yourself in the FEELING of being in your DR right now. Just the feeling, not using any of your 5 senses. It's like you're lying in your bed with earplugs and closed eyes, you just know you're there. Thirdly, you can go to the void state, which is by far the best way to shift. I want to do another post about how to enter the void state in the near future, which is, in my opinion, the best and easiest way to shift. And, in fact, entering it isn’t even that hard once you understand how to actually go there.

I highly, highly, highly recommend reading the book “The Power of Now” by Eckhart Tolle. You can find it for free on the internet in case you don’t want to pay. It’ll change the way you see the world and shifting entirely.

Now, there are two paths you can take; both of them will eventually lead you to your desired reality.

Take away enough energy from your egoic mind, disconnect from your ego, and become identified with consciousness. You can achieve this by doing the first two exercises above. In addition to those, I recommend accepting the Now as it is. It doesn’t matter what situation you’re in; it doesn’t matter how hard life feels. Life is always perfect and beautiful, but your ego stops you from experiencing that. Every time you get mad about your life situations, you’re automatically feeding your egoic mind energy it can use to get even stronger. Either accept the situation or do something about it now. When trying to shift, don’t overthink it. Clear your mind completely; don’t ask yourself if it works. All you’re doing is giving energy to your egoic mind. And then, it won’t work. I highly advise you to just set an intention and become silent. Don’t let your ego take control by thinking, wanting to be there, etc. Take control by being silent and simply observing. Let it happen, let the universe change your reality. Moreover, I recommend meditation, as it is a super useful tool to train your attention, making it easier to detach from your ego. Later on, it’ll help you a lot in reaching the void state.

2. Manifest changes within your egoic mind. Once the mind is on board with the idea that you can simply shift wherever you want to go, it won’t stop you anymore. I made another post about this if you want to check it out. In this reality, the ego controls your perception. It shows you whatever it believes in. If you truly believe deep down that you can shift, your ego will too. Then, even if you’re still identified with your egoic mind, it won’t stop you anymore because it also believes in it.

Again, this is just my perspective on this topic. You don’t have to believe me, but if you go deeper and really ask yourself, “Why do I not shift?” eventually you might just get to the same conclusion as me. It is very simple. You are consciousness but the problem is that you identify yourself with the egoic mind. If you want to shift, either convince your ego or dissolve it by taking energy away from it. Again, if you want a more in-depth explanation, I recommend reading Eckhart Tolles book. Thank you for reading this far, and I wish you the best. 

[sleepy-little-stars]

andy speaks: a very self-indulgent fic 😞 as a humanities girlie, I just rlly want my silly nerdy stem bf ☹️ hot nerdy stem bf pls pls pls come my way 🙏 zayne will have his version of this too!! bcuz muehehe why have one stem bf when u can have two. TWO?! 😻 n poseidon raf is in the drafts 🙂‍↕️

stem bf!caleb who’s such a nerd trapped in a hot guy’s body, it drives you insane. he could be standing in front of you looking all hot with that pilot uniform of his but the moment he opens his mouth? you just wanna jump him there and then. 

“how much do you love me?” caleb hums in response to your question. he has his arms around you, swaying the both of you ever so slightly from side to side. 

“honestly? like about 9.8 meters per second squared. in other words, gravity is pulling me towards you.” he grins before leaning in to kiss your cheek. 

“could’ve just said you love me to the moon and back.”

“flowery words are your thing, sweets. not mine.”

stem!bf caleb who invites you for a date night at his dorm.

you show up with snacks and a list of movies you want to watch with him, such as barbie because you are going to sit him down and explain how barbie is one of the best movies of the century and the message it conveys to women and little girls around the world— wait.. why is he surrounded with legos?

“what’s with the legos?” 

“it’s not just legos, pip. it’s the 7,500 pieces millenium falcon. come on, help me with it.” he pulled you down beside him on the carpet, your legs deposited on top of his lap and an arm enclosing you to his chest.

“so, you invited me here to make me do labor.” you grumbled seemingly annoyed yet the hand reaching out for the building manual says otherwise. caleb merely chuckles at your faux demise, pecking your temple. “don’t worry. we can watch barbie as we build. and.. we’ll do a powerpoint night tomorrow. deal?”

“deal.” and so you spent the entire night wrestling with tiny building blocks to help complete his beloved spaceship. 

stem bf!caleb who keeps every paper plane you give him. when unfolded, the paper is filled with your words of love dedicated to him. 

stem!bf caleb who is your very own human calculator. you always bring him with you during grocery runs so you can easily keep track of the total as you shop. 

“caleb, add this.”

“bread is $2.49.. your current total is now $11.27.”

“thanks, babe. now, let’s go get chips.”

stem!bf caleb who watches all your favorite films or shows in his free times. he remembers all the times you mentioned them in passing. 

“since when did you watch girl, interrupted?” 

“last night. you were talking about it the other day and i didn’t really know how to respond so i watched it. now, tell me all about lisa again. her character was really something— ah!” he got cut off by you throwing your arms around him and peppering his face with kisses.

stem bf! caleb who yaps about science theories during cuddle time. your head is on his chest, his arms tight around you.

“time slows down when the gravity increases. that’s what you call gravitational time dilation. like, imagine you’re on top of a very high mountain. time would pass faster for you than for someone at sea level because the gravity is weaker the farther you are from the center— babe?” caleb looks down, lips quirked upon seeing you dozed off. he pinches your nose, earning a sleepy whine from you. “stop.” 

“you promised to listen to me talk. are you breaking promises now, pip?” caleb leans closer to bite at your cheek, grinning widely when you push his face away. “i’ll let you yap later. nap comes first.”

“is that a promise?” 

“yes.”

“okay. i love you.”

“.. love you too.” 

“good night.”

“hm.”

“you know, einstein’s theory of relativity—” 

“sleep, caleb.” 

[nekonaps0]

You are NAUGHTY!! Pt1

✦part2 part3

✦ characters: third years

✦ gn!reader

✦ dirty jokes

✦ their partner suddenly cracked a naughty, suggestive joke

Trey Clover

“Trey, your hands are always so steady when you’re baking… I bet they’d be just as good at frosting something a little more... sinful.”

Trey pauses mid-stir.

He slowly turns to you, lifts an eyebrow, and smiles… that calm, confident smile that betrays a whole lot of fluster he’s pushing down like a champ.

“Now… you know I’m sweet, not sinful… Unless you’re asking for a special recipe?”

He acts smooth, but his ears are a little red, and he starts avoiding eye contact as he stirs too quickly. If you catch him off guard again?

“You’re really playing with fire, sugar. Don’t be surprised if I bake you into something irresistible.”

Cater Diamond

“Cater, you’re always taking pics of your food… wanna snap one of me with just the whipped cream next time?”

He screams. Actually.

“OMG, bae!! You can’t just say stuff like that out loud… I mean, you can, but I might melt~!”

His phone is nearly dropped. He fans himself with his phone, bites his lip in mock-shock, then gets way too close.

“So when’s this whipped cream shoot happening? I gotta prep my lighting. And my appetite~”

You just turned this flirt-war into a full-on event. He's now plotting outfits and hashtags like:

#TooHotToPost #BlessedAndUndressed.

Leona Kingscholar

“You know Leona, if you keep growling like that, I’m gonna start thinking you want me under you for real.”

Leona stops. Smirks. Stretches lazily like a big cat about to ruin your life.

“Tch. You really wanna play that game, herbivore?”

He’s unfazed—in fact, he’s pleased. He loves a partner who’s bold and flirty, especially if it gets under his skin just enough to spark a reaction.

He’ll lean in close, voice low and teasing:

“Careful now… jokes like that’ll land you in a position you can’t handle.”

You’ve awakened the predator.

Congratulations.

Vil Schoenheit

“Vil, if you keep ordering me around like that, I’m going to start confusing your instructions with dirty talk.”

Pin-drop silence.

Vil looks at you like you just slapped him across the cheek and called him beautiful… Which you kind of did.

Then he slowly smiles like a cat that’s just noticed a helpless mouse.

“Is that so? Well, darling… perhaps next time, I’ll make the difference clearer. Shall I demonstrate?”

He lives for a well-timed, well-structured innuendo. You impressed him. And now he’s inspired.

Careful what doors you open with this man.

Rook Hunt

“Rook, I must be your next hunt… 'cause I can feel you stalking my thoughts—especially when I’m alone in bed.”

He gasps like you just confessed undying love and slapped him with a silk glove.

“Mon dieu! Ma chère, you wound me with your words… and thrill me all the same!”

He clutches his heart, swoons into a chair, and then grins like the predator he is.

“Such a delicious line, dripping with wickedness! Shall I pursue you now, or wait until the moonlight bathes us in temptation?”

You’ve turned the poet into a freak, and he is so here for it.

Malleus Draconia

“Malleus, you’re so tall. I bet even your horns are compensating for something~”

Malleus stares. Blinks. Tilts his head.

“...I was unaware you believed my horns served… compensatory functions. Should I… correct that misunderstanding?”

He’s 100% confused at first, not because he’s innocent, but because your innuendo feels like riddles to him.

But once he gets it, once Lilia or someone explain it later, perhaps?

Oh, he remembers it.

The next time you flirt?

“You’ve been teasing me my dear. Perhaps I ought to show you that dragons need not compensate for anything.”

And he’ll say it with that calm, deep voice and a tilt of his head that promises danger.

Lilia Vanrouge

“Lilia, you might look small, but something tells me you could absolutely wreck me if you wanted to.”

He chuckles. Like full-blown villain laugh.

“Oh ho~! My, my~ What a bold darling you are tonight!”

He floats toward you, arms behind his back, eyes glinting with mischief.

“Is that a request? Or are you simply hoping I take the hint?”

You’ve just turned on flirt-mode Lilia, and he’s dangerous. Expect teasing, whispering, and no personal space for hours.

“Now, let’s see just how wreckable you are, hmm~?”

Idia Shroud

“Hey Idia~ Wanna roleplay? I’ll be the innocent maiden and you can ‘hack’ your way into my firewall”

Idia dies.

Straight up collapses onto the floor, hood over his face, glowing like a neon strawberry.

“Wh—Whaaaaa—?! THAT’S—THAT’S NOT A DIALOGUE OPTION IN REAL LIFE!!”

He short-circuits. His hair flares pink. He makes incomprehensible noises.

The idea that you, his amazing, goddess-tier s/o, are flirting like this??

It sends him spiraling. In a good way.

Mostly.

Later, in private, he’ll try to flirt back:

“H-Heh… you keep this up and I’ll… uhh… overheat and crash, probably…”

He's trying, okay? Reward him with kisses.

..............................................................................................................................

Hehehe~ I’m back ✨

[strang3lov3]

Honey-Do

“You’re gonna work on these every day. And I’m gonna check to make sure you did ‘em all, and if you did, you get to put a sticker down. And if we fill this sheet all the way up by the end of the week, I’ll make ya cum,” Joel explains. “That’s how you can earn back your privileges, Pumpkin.”

Tags - one shot, smut, unprotected piv, creampie, orgasm denial, ddlg dynamics, fingering, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, sneaking around with bad influence uncle tommyyyyy, joel jerks off, sex before dinner, angst + tension, spankings, rewards and punishments, elements of abuse, hurt/lots of comfort, pinky promises, dark. this is a work of fiction, and all characters are adults.

A/N - have I ever not delivered. here’s your uncle tommy fill, as promised. thank you to two anons who know who they are for helping with the creation of this fic, and thank you to my dear L for editing with me! anyway, it's been a minute but i'm happy to see you all :) hope you enjoy. i wrote this through a splitting headache so i'm going to chill now.

Your bedroom door clicks as Joel unlocks it from the other side, and the hinges groan and creak as he pushes it open. He looks at your figure lying in your bed, warm sunlight painting over your skin. Joel knows you’re not sleeping. You’re just lying in the quiet room, soaking up the sun like a kitten. 

“Hi, kiddo,” Joel greets softly, smiling before taking long strides across the room to meet you. He’s stepping over your clothes and tripping on other odds and ends before he reaches you - you’ve been picking out your own clothes lately. Apparently you’ve been less than impressed with Joel’s sense of fashion. Ooohkay, he thought. You’re such a messy girl with the way you try on all of your clothes, then leave them all on the floor. Those, coupled with old, expired bottles of nail polish and lip gloss. Joel told you not to use those lip glosses, but they’re just pretty to look at sometimes. 

“Jesus, girl. Fuckin’ room’s a pigsty,” he says, and he sits on the end of your bed, springs creaking with the shift in weight. 

You ignore him. Joel leans over and kisses both of your cheeks and then your forehead, then your nose. “Don’t smile,” he teases, “Don’t you dare laugh.” And he repeats this, his facial hair tickling your skin, until you’re giggling and your eyes finally open. 

“Ohh, there she is. Mornin’, Pumpkin,” Joel says, chuckling at the way you squint through the bright sunlight. 

“Mmm…morning, D–” you’re interrupted by your own yawn, which makes Joel laugh. “Daddy.” 

Joel pushes some hair out of your eyes. “Lazy ass,” he mumbles. “Listen, kiddo. M’on patrol today, so you’re gonna be home all alone. Y’gonna be alright?” he asks, softly stroking the skin on your cheek. “Gonna be a good girl?” 

He wonders if he can trust you. If he can give you this inch, and you won’t take a mile. The doors and windows will stay locked, of course, but there’s other things he worries about. Joel knows you, you know. You’re never as sneaky as you think you are. 

“Mhm. I’m always good, Daddy.” 

Joel rolls his eyes. “Uh huh, fuckin’ smartass. You can make eggs an’ toast for breakfast, and there’s leftovers in the fridge for lunch. We’ll figure out supper later, hm? Maybe we’ll go to the cafeteria. See what they’re cookin’ up.” 

“Yeah, that sounds good,” you smile. 

“Good.” Joel pats his thighs and then stands up, knees popping loudly. “And I want you to clean all this shit up, alright? Didn’t raise ya to leave messes.” 

You sigh heavily. “I know. I’ll do it.” 

“Good girl.” Joel bends down and kisses your head one last time. “Eat all your lunch an’ have a good day. I love ya.”

You love days where you’re home alone. You used to hate it, and Joel wouldn’t let it happen a whole lot. You hated how lonely it felt, how quiet. You’d hear things go bump that weren’t there, and you’d feel just…nervous. Joel came home once and found you all scared and trembling, and he promised he’d be home with you as much as he could. 

He made good on his promise. And you liked being home with him until you didn’t, until you found it suffocating and boring. Scary. Joel’s house went from being a quiet safe haven away from the horrors of the world to a sort of horror in and of itself. A Sisyphean loop, where nothing ever changes. And it never will, no matter how much you tug on your windows that are bolted shut, or yank on your door that only Joel can unlock. You can never leave. 

You’d stare longingly out the window, hoping to go outside on your own. Just once, maybe. To go in the woods and wander, pick at strange flowers and plants and everything else. Just be alone. Joel grants you so much, and yet, you want so much more than that.

It makes you feel bad, if you’re being honest with yourself. You know what’s out there. What he saved you from. You know you’re safer with Joel, and you know everything he’s done to keep you safe and comfortable and happy. You’re in good hands with him, even if they’re hands that hurt you sometimes. Hit you. Spank you. Choke you. They’re still Joel’s hands, and they’re warm, right? And they love you. 

He said when the weather warms up some more he’ll take you to the lake. You really hope he does. 

You spend the day reading, drawing, watching birds and other critters that come by. Joel thinks it’s cute, the way you’ve named the chipmunks and squirrels that frequent his patio. How you recognize them like they’re your friends. 

Joel tries to leave his bad mood away from home. He knows he’s got a habit of carrying it with him, and regrettably, taking it out on you. You take your moods out on him too, though. Not that it matters. He curses himself for even acknowledging the fact. He’s older, he’s wiser, he’s more patient. You’re not. He’s the parent, you’re the child. But when he comes home, you can tell it was a bad day. You can hear it in his footsteps and in the way he breathes, and it makes you tense. ��Y’ready for dinner?” he asks, voice tired. 

“Mhm.” 

“Didn’t hear ya, kiddo. Speak up.” 

“Mhm.” 

“No, no mumblin’. Use your words and tell me, yes or no,” Joel demands, feeling his blood pressure begin to spike. 

“Yes.” 

Oh, you fucking…you. You’re always going to match Joel’s temper. You stare at him and he glares back, balling his fists before turning on his heel to get changed. You both need something to eat, before this goes from zero to one hundred. 

But then Joel goes upstairs, and he walks past your bedroom and sees that nothing - nothing is picked up. He’s back downstairs before he even thinks it through. Before he showers and takes a moment to breathe, even. 

“What’d I fuckin’ tell you?” 

Your stomach drops at his tone. “What?”

“I asked ya to take care of your room, and I come home to see you’ve done fuck all.” 

“I guess I just forgot, Daddy. I’ll do it tomorrow.”

Joel scoffs, “Yeah, uh huh.” He pauses for a moment, then puts his hands on his hips. “We talked about this, Pumpkin.” 

“Talked about what?” you ask, and it makes Joel fucking irate that you won’t turn your head to look at him. 

“Look at me when you’re speakin’ t’me,” he barks, startling you. Looking at him from across the room, you can see he means business. Joel’s eyes are already dark to begin with, but they’ve gone black - so depthless and so endless that you can’t tell what’s behind them. 

“You’ve been slackin’,” Joel says in a low tone, breathing heavily as he takes heavy steps toward you. “S’gettin’ old, kid.” 

“I know, I just–”

“Jus’ what?”

You pick at your chipping, poorly-applied nail polish as you roll the answer around in your mind. “I don’t really want to do chores. I mean, I know my room is…but the other stuff, I–” 

“Tough. You live under my roof, y’live under my rules.”

“Then it’s your roof, your mess.” 

The words come out before you can even think about them. You press your lips together immediately, shrinking in your seat a little at the way Joel cocks his eyebrow and puts his hands on his hips. “Wanna try that again?” he asks, and you know what this is, what it is he’s doing: he’s giving you an out. And it’s awfully generous of him, considering. “Don’t make this a bad night,” he warns.

You pause this time, thinking about what you want to say next. I’m sorry, Daddy is that fucking close to rolling off of your lips when you notice that little wren sitting on the windowsill. She’s a frequent visitor, and Joel says she’s just like you. Fiery, assertive, sometimes. Vocal. A pistol. 

She looks at you for a minute, then flies off. It sends a pang of longing through your heart, and perhaps even jealousy that that beautiful little bird can spread her wings and fly away and you…can’t. Not with the locked doors and windows, not while eternally existing under Joel’s fucking microscope.

“I didn’t ask to live here, Joel,” you bite. 

“Oh, s’that’s how we’re doin’ this? This is how tonight’s gonna go?” 

“Yeah.” You get up from your place on the couch and shove into Joel’s shoulder, but he shoves you right back down. He glares at you, and you glare back as hard as you fucking can. Staring at him like you wish you could fucking…you don’t even know. You’re blinded by the same rage and upset that Joel is at this moment, but without the agency to do one fucking thing about it. Joel, on the other hand. 

He takes your jaw in his hand, squeezing your bones tight enough to bruise the soft flesh that covers them. When you jerk your head away, he squeezes tighter. “You don’t get to walk away from me,” he growls, leaning in close enough that you can feel his hot breath on your face. “I do a lot for ya. Done a lot for ya,” he says in a low tone.

“You never let me leave,” you argue. “You trap me.” 

That gets Joel, wounds him a little. His face changes when you say that, before twisting back into something darker. “That’s what you think, huh? That I trap ya?”

You swallow thickly, then part your lips to speak. Joel cuts you off with a wave of his hand. “I keep you safe,” Joel whispers. “Fed. Happy. An’ all I ask is that you follow a few simple rules. That’s all. You wanna go back out there on your own, with the fuckin’ raiders and clickers, I can make that happen. Watch.”

Joel’s jaw ticks as he glares at you, fuming at the indignant little look on your fucking face. He could hit you right now, right across your cheek. Or maybe he’ll bend you over his knee and beat you until your ass is fucking raw and bleeding. That’ll teach you, that’ll fuckin’ teach you…

The anger flows through his veins like a fucking poison, and only when one of Joel’s knuckles crack, startling him, does he let your face go. He didn’t realize he was holding you so hard.

“I don’t like you,” you whisper. 

Joel makes a face at the statement, then nods, because he’s heard it all before. It hurt the worst the first time you said it, but you came back to him crying, hours later when you’d had a nightmare and needed him. Not want - that wasn’t the word you picked. You said you needed him, Daddy, and you were so sorry. You didn’t mean it. You love him and you need him. 

He clicks his tongue against his teeth. “M’not too keen on you either, right now, Pumpkin.”    

The room is tense as you and Joel stare each other down, and neither of you budge until Joel tells you to go to your room and stay there. He tells you that you can forget going out to dinner, and you can stay in your bedroom until he feels like looking at your face again. You’re grounded, too - he doesn’t say from what. Now get out of his sight before he fucking hurts you.

You’re in your room forever, the hours alone spent alone passing like days. The sun went down forever ago, and you can’t stop yourself from crying. You held it together long enough downstairs while fighting with Joel but the moment you stepped foot into your room, you burst like a dam. 

And it sucks to cry alone, to not have Joel there to hold you and wipe your tears. But is that what you’d want? Is that what would make it all better? Maybe. Joel has a special way of being your heaven and hell, all in one man. He’s both your nightmare and your solace after a bad dream. What are you supposed to make of that? What are you supposed to do other than cry like this?

You don’t bother wiping your tears when there’s a double knock at the door. “S’me,” Joel says. “M’comin’ in.” 

You keep your back turned to him as he enters your bedroom with a plate and a glass of water, and he sets both down on your nightstand. “Went and grabbed some food. I gotcha…let’s see here. Chicken, mashed potatoes, corn.” 

“Not hungry.” 

“Not even for some pumpkin pie?” Joel asks, noticing the way your eyes widen at the mention. “Still your favorite, right?”

You pause. “No,” you answer, eventually.

“No?” Joel asks. “Hmm. Guess I’ll eat it myself. M’gonna get even fatter than I already am…this is a very unhealthy thing to do to your dear old man, y’know,” Joel says, cutting into the pie with the side of his fork, which scrapes against the ceramic plate. You flip over and sit up, and Joel feeds you the bite instead of eating it himself. “There she is,” he murmurs. 

That’s how you got the nickname. Joel asked your name many times back in that cold, shitty cabin. You wouldn’t tell him. He understood, of course, and he told you his name anyway. You were always such a stubborn girl. For the life of him, Joel could not figure out why you wouldn’t come back to Jackson with him, why the hell you were so apprehensive about trusting him. Most people jump at the opportunity to stay in the cozy, warm settlement but…not you. 

You were a tough nut to crack. It took a lot of time for you to trust Joel. He used to sit in that cabin with you while on his patrols - Tommy would show up sometimes, too. He’d just sit with you, talk a little, the way you’d do with a stray dog in a shelter. He’d bring you warm thermoses full of soup or tea and sandwiches for you to eat, and he was just patient.

And it was pumpkin pie that finally got you to come home with him. He brought you a slice one day, and you scarfed it down quickly and asked if he had more. “Nope,” he answered. “Gotta come back to Jackson f’ya want more. Got all the pumpkin pie you could eat.”

You mulled it over in your mind more than you ever had. And this was after weeks of Joel visiting you, bringing you food, sometimes dry wood to keep your fireplace warm. You didn’t trust him yet, but you didn’t…not trust him. And you really wanted that fucking pie. 

It was your choice to live with Joel, too. When he brought you back, they offered to put you in a house with other girls around your age. Nope. You wanted to be with Joel. Somewhere deep down, you know you picked him to be yours before he picked you to be his. Doesn’t that make you a little responsible for where you are now? 

“Yeah, alright, Pumpkin. I guess I could make some room for ya,” he winked.

“Breakin’ rules here,” Joel murmurs. “It goes dinner first, then dessert. Right?”

You ignore him as you swallow your bite. He’s only teasing. And besides, this is not a battle he wants to fight. At least you’re eating, anyway. Joel puts his hand on your knee and speaks softly, “I shouldn’t have gotten on your ass the way I did.” 

“No. You shouldn’t have,” you snap, and Joel feeds you another bite of pie. You take the fork and eat the rest of the slice quickly, then lay back down and flip over.    

His poor, sweet, tender-hearted girl. Don’t you know that attitude of yours is only gonna get you in trouble? Joel thinks it's just where you’re at in life - he thought he knew the world like the back of his hand when he was your age, too. 

Joel turns your face and wipes your tear-stained cheeks, all swollen and raw. Eyes rimmed red as more tears well up, then spill down, back into your hairline. “Oh, sweetheart. What am I gonna do with ya?” he sighs, gently thumbing away those tears again. He wipes a few crumbs of pie crust from your lips, too.

You sniffle and shrug, avoiding his gaze. A hiccuping sob escapes your lips. “S'okay. Drink some water,” Joel tells you, pulling you upright. He gives you the glass, has you take a few sips, and he notices the way you look at his hand between your thighs. He notices your muscles twitching, eyes widening…knows exactly what you want as he rubs his thumb over the skin. Joel knows you want him to fuck you, to make you feel good, because you always feel better after he gets you off. Presses your little reset button. He’d reckon those pretty pink panties of yours are a little soaked, too. Poor thing. And isn’t this part of tonight’s problem? 

You can’t get anything past Joel. You’ll never be able to. 

“Daddy–”

“Not tonight, kiddo. Y’lost them privileges.” 

“Please,” you beg. Joel takes your glass of water and sets it down on the nightstand. 

“No,” Joel bites, pulling his hand away. He pulls your blankets over your shoulders, then turns off your lamp. “Daddy’s gonna have to think of a way for you to earn ‘em back.” He kisses you on the forehead, saddened by the way you turn away from him. “I love ya with my whole heart, Pumpkin, but you are gonna learn that there are consequences for your actions. Now get some sleep.”

Joel takes the glasses and checks to make sure the baby monitor is on, then leaves you. A night of sleep will be good for you both. 

But it is a hard night, isn’t it? You spend the night tossing and turning - Joel can hear it on the tinny, crackling speakers of the receiver. He doesn’t rest any easier either, so he gets in the shower late at night. Maybe the distant noise of the running water will soothe you to sleep. 

He washes his hair and his body, then grips his cock tightly in his fist. He strokes himself slowly, top to bottom and over and over again, building to a quicker pace in short time. “Ohh, Pumpkin,” he whispers, cumming over his knuckles. Joel rinses himself off and dries himself, then checks on you in your bedroom - you’re out like a light. Good. Fuck, he hates fighting with you. 

In the morning, you tiptoe down the stairs, stopping first behind the wall to steal a peek at Joel before he sees you. He’s got breakfast made already - French toast, eggs, hash browns. You take your place at the table, yawning as you twirl a fork between your fingers. “Mornin’, sweetheart,” Joel murmurs, pressing a kiss against the crown of your head. He serves you a large helping of breakfast, your Felix the cat cup is already filled with juice. “Sleep okay?” he asks, sitting next to you and serving himself. 

You shrug. 

“Yeah, me too,” Joel agrees. You and he eat in silence for a couple of minutes, the only sounds being the chirping birds and the cutlery scraping against the plates. Joel finishes his food before you do, and when he does, he gets up from the table. You watch him set his dish by the sink, then grab a couple of papers or something from the counter and bring them back to the table. “Been thinkin’ about how you can earn back your privileges,” Joel begins. Your attention is immediately caught by a few shiny, sparkly papers, decorated in little stars. “Stickers,” Joel explains, peeling one off and sticking it on your nose. “See?”

“Mhm.” You grab the packs of stickers, but Joel tugs them back. 

“Ah, ah, ah. Can’t have those yet. You gotta earn ‘em.” Joel shows you a larger paper next, something he made and drew up himself. ‘Pumpkin’s Honey-Do List’.

“What’s honey-do?”

“S’a chore chart,” Joel explains. “Honey, do this for me. Honey, do that. Get it?” You nod. “We’re gonna use this chart to keep track of your chores, okay?” 

Before you answer, you take some time to look over the chores Joel wants you to do. Sunday through Saturday Joel wants you to tidy your room every day. “Every day?” you whine, thinking of the enormous mess sitting in there right now. It’s gonna take for fucking ever to deal with all of that.

“Every day,” Joel answers. “F’ya stay on top of it, it’s not much of an issue. Been tryin’ to tell ya that, Pumpkin.” 

The rest of the daily chores listed are no surprise. Do the dishes, set the table, make the bed, sweep. But there’s some new ones at the bottom of the chart - dust all the shelves and baseboards, wash the windows, mop. Joel explains that they only have to be done once at some point this week. 

“You’re gonna work on these every day,” Joel says. “And I’m gonna check to make sure you did ‘em all, and if you did, you get to put a sticker down. And if we fill this sheet up by the end of the week, I’ll make ya feel good again. That’s how you can earn back your privileges.”

You think about it, looking over the chore chart. Joel’s all capital letter handwriting, and the silly pumpkins he drew at the top of the chart. “Hey, you,” Joel taps your arm. “We square?”

You still don’t know. You don’t know why you’re hesitant. You’re just…that’s just who you are. Stubborn, indignant. A rebel with a heart of gold. 

“Psst. Take the fuckin’ deal, kiddo.” 

“Okay, Daddy.” 

Joel holds out his fist, pinky finger extended. You wrap your pinky around his, and then he brings both his and your hands to his lips and kisses your knuckle.  

You get started after breakfast, cleaning up your room while Joel takes care of some other stuff around the house. It’s not so bad when you have a goal in mind and a better attitude about the entire thing. It goes by quickly, too, and you feel better when your room is put back together. You don’t know why you let it get so bad. Maybe it’s reflective of your mood. 

Dishes come next, and it’s made easier because Joel cleans as he cooks. It’s just a matter of washing and drying a few plates and forks and glasses, then putting them back into the cabinets. Sweeping comes after that, and then you’re done until dinner tonight when Joel needs the table set. 

It is nice to walk through the house with him as he inspects your work. The concentrated frown on his face as he looks in your closet at all your clothes all hung up and folded neat, and the way it splits into a smile of approval. “Y’did good, kiddo,” he murmurs as he kisses your head. It takes you a moment to decide how exactly you want to place the stickers down, but you like doing it. It’s going to look so pretty when it’s filled in. 

Tomorrow is the same, and the next day, and the next day. Joel does his walk throughs every evening, and then you do your stickers at the table. “Mm, doin’ some neat patterns there, I see,” Joel says gently. 

“Mhm.”

“Very pretty, sweetheart. I’m so proud’a ya,” he smiles. “Couple more days, right? Finish strong.” 

When you wake up on Friday, you feel excited. There’s really not much in your room to clean, not much to sweep around the house, not much of anything to do, really. 

…Until Joel reminds you about the specials. “Ahem,” Joel says, pointing to the chores at the bottom of the chart. “These need’a get done, too.” 

“Oh, fuck.” You cover your mouth before Joel has a chance to scold you. “Sorry.” 

He makes a face at you, but he lets it go. If letting a dirty word slip is the worst thing you’ve done all week, then so be it. You probably picked it up from him, after all. 

Joel quickly makes you a sandwich at the counter, then slices it in half and puts it in the fridge. That’ll be your lunch later. “Uncle Tommy’s coming by today,” Joel says. “But don’t think you can sweet talk him into helpin’ you with those chores, Pumpkin. This is still a punishment.” 

“Mhm. I know, Daddy.” 

“Good girl.” Joel kisses you quickly on the cheek, then he’s out the door. “I love ya. Be home later.” 

When Joel leaves, you go upstairs and shower, then pick out something to wear - just a pair of shorts and a tee, neither of which you particularly like, but that’s okay. You don’t want to dirty your favorite clothes. After checking your list, you get started with dusting first. You’ll work top to bottom, and then do the windows at the very end, per Joel’s suggestion. 

Dusting is tedious. It’s tedious to take every little knickknack and tchotchke off the shelves, but you do like the way the wood sparkles after you wipe it clean. And it feels better, too. There’s a noticeable difference when you clean the place, like you’re washing away everything bad that’s built up over time and starting anew. 

You pause cleaning briefly to eat the sandwich Joel made you, and then you’re back to cleaning, on your hands and knees as you wipe the baseboards. You still have some tall cabinets and shelves to dust, but you’ll figure that out later. 

The back door opening startles you, and in comes Tommy, handsome as ever and smiling so big when he sees you. “Hiya, sweetheart.” 

“Hi, Uncle Tommy,” you greet. You feel Tommy’s eyes on you as you dust, tracing over every inch of your figure. It’s awkward as you clean and Tommy stands there. You’re not exactly sure what he was sent here to do. Maybe he’s your babysitter or something. 

He peruses the house, and you wonder what he’s thinking. You have a more difficult time reading him than you do Joel, though that doesn’t mean Joel is always easy to read, either. Tommy notices your chore chart and smirks at it. Good fucking god. 

Baseboards are done now, so it’s time to finish those cabinets. You drag a chair over to the kitchen counters, but even with the added height, you can’t reach the tops. “Uncle Tommy?” you ask. 

“Yeah, honey.” 

“Do you know if Joel has a step stool or something around here?” 

Tommy holds up a finger before he’s off to check for you. There’s nothing in the closet, nothing in the garage, either. “Don’t think so, sweetheart.” 

“Hmm…” 

“Whatcha thinkin’?”

Joel would throttle you if he knew what you were about to do, but he’s the one who didn’t account for your inability to reach the tops of the cabinets he wants cleaned. You hoist yourself up onto the counter top with a rag in hand, wobbling as you stand up tall. 

“Woah, woah, woah. Let me use the chair an’ I’ll get ‘em myself, darlin’,” Tommy says as he stands behind you, his fingers tapping against your legs as he gets ready to catch you. He gets a nice look up your shorts from this angle, too, llikes the lace on your panties. “Gonna crack your goddamn skull open, girl.” 

“You’re not supposed to help me,” you tell him, frowning at how disgusting the tops of these cabinets are. “Ew.” 

“Says who?”

“Daddy,” you answer. 

“Ohhh. Daddy says so, huh?”

You sigh, “Yep.”

Tommy rolls his eyes. “Get down, honey. I don’t like ya up there like that.”

You know better than to argue with Uncle Tommy. He’s fun, sure. But he does have the authority to do whatever Joel does to you, too. Joel’s made it clear that when Tommy’s around, you are to listen and obey him the same as you listen to Joel himself. You turn around and bend down slowly, feeling nervous and unstable on your feet. “C’mere, sweet pea. I gotcha.” Tommy grabs your waist and steadies you, grunting as he helps you down. 

“Can’t believe your old man’s gotcha doin’ all these chores without any music,” Tommy says. You shrug, and Tommy’s off toward the living room where Joel’s got a turntable and some vinyls. He puts them on every once in a while, but you’re not always into the music he picks. 

Tommy puts on Jim Croce and does a little dance that makes you giggle. He wiggles his hips and snaps his fingers, biting down on his bottom lip. “Alright,” Tommy claps his hands together. “Let’s get to work.” 

He takes the rag from your hand and stands on the chair, dusting the tops of the cabinets himself. “I appreciate this, Uncle Tommy, but you really shouldn’t…if Joel finds out–”

“You gonna tell on me, sweetheart?”

“N-no…” you mumble, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. 

“Then your daddy won’t find out,” Tommy replies. 

He finishes the cabinets quickly, then gets off of his chair with a grunt. “Okay, darlin’. What else ya gotta do?”

“Uhmmm…” you trail off, mentally tallying the chores you’ve already done. With Tommy’s help, you’re just about finished. “Windows are last,” you tell him. 

Tommy nods. He grabs a spray bottle from a closet as well as two squeegees, then hands you one. “You wanna do the outsides or the insides, sweetheart?” 

“Insides,” you answer. “I’m not supposed to go outside without Joel.” 

Tommy makes a real show of looking around, raising his eyebrows and squinting dramatically. “Funny, darlin’, I don’t see Joel anywhere,” he says, then pauses. “Why don’tcha wash the outsides and get some fresh air, honey?”

“Okay,” you smile. Tommy gives you the spray, then opens the door and tells you to meet him at the kitchen window. You feel exhilarated as you leave and round the house, loving the sun on your skin and the breeze in your hair. When you meet him on the other side of the window, he motions for you to spray yours down, which you do. Then Tommy opens the window and reaches for the spray, then shuts the window. You flinch when he squirts it at you, and laugh when it hits the glass and not yourself. Tommy winks, then squeegees his side of the window as you do the same. 

He nods his head to motion to you to go to the next window, where you and he repeat the routine. You do the same with the next one and the one after that, and when you’re finished, you come back inside and rest on the couch. 

“Think that means we’re ‘bout done, huh?”

“Yep,” you answer, then pause. “You won’t tell Joel, right?”

Tommy sits next to you and zips his lips. “M’not a narc, honey. So we get to put stickers on your chart now, don’t we?”

You shake your head. “Nope. Joel has to do a walk through,” you explain. 

“Ahhhh,” Tommy nods, understanding. “So whatcha gettin’ for fillin’ in all the stickers?”

Your cheeks heat up at the question and you shy away from Tommy, which makes him laugh. You have no poker face at all. 

“Uh huh,” Tommy winks. “Oh, I get it.”

You squirm in place a little, wondering if you should talk more about it. You kind of want to, honestly. Joel tells you that you can tell him anything, but you know you can’t. Not just anything. “It’s been a week,” you admit finally to Tommy, and immediately you feel relieved to have someone else to talk to about this. About Joel. “Well, almost. Tomorrow makes a week.” 

Tommy scoffs. “Well shit, kiddo. Your old man’s a fuckin’ hard ass.” You shrug silently, and Tommy raises an eyebrow at you. “You can agree, y’know. Ain’t gonna hurt. An’ I won’t tell him if ya do, either.” 

“A little,” you admit, quietly. But Tommy hears, and he smiles. 

“Can’t go a day without it, myself,” Tommy tells you, stretching out on the couch a little. He rests his hand on your thigh, drawing little patterns down to your knee and back up again, patterns that make your skin tingle and make you feel funny inside. Nervous, excited…in almost the same way Joel makes you feel nervous and excited. But there’s an added layer here. You know you shouldn’t be letting Tommy do this to you.

“I think you should reward yourself, ‘f I’m bein’ honest. You did all your chores, after all. Right?” 

“...yeah.” Uncle Tommy has a funny way of making the guilt in your belly disappear, if not for just a moment. It’s in the way he speaks and the words he chooses, and it’s in his sparkling brown eyes and his charming smile.  

“Why don’tcha go to your room and take care of yourself, then? Hm?”

You shake your head. “Joel - Daddy says I’m not allowed to,” you reply. 

“Ohh. Not allowed to do it by yourself.” Tommy clicks his tongue and turns his head toward you. “S’too goddamn bad. Joel’s gotcha on a short fuckin’ leash, don’t he?”

He slides his hand up your thigh, inching his pinky finger past your shorts. Tommy likes the way your breath hitches in your throat when he traces the thin, damp fabric of your panties with just his fingertip. Sensitive fuckin’ girl.

“And you’re really hurtin’ for it too, I can tell. A fuckin’ week, good lord,” Tommy whispers, then pauses before speaking again. “Well, I’d reckon you’re not doin’ nothin’ wrong by lettin’ Uncle Tommy make ya cum, huh?” 

“I-” you stutter, “I really - I don’t know, Uncle Tommy.”

Tommy grins, his eyes so warm and so black, so endless. “Oh, sweetheart. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with it in my book.” He wriggles his fingers up your shorts a little more, and slips them past your panties. That little gasp when he touches your lip, lightly teasing you there. Good lord. 

“Then s’gonna be our little secret,” Tommy whispers. “Somethin’ special, jus’ for me and my sweet girl,” he says. “How ‘bout that, darlin’?”

You nod before the little voice in your head telling you not to do this becomes too loud. You can trust Tommy, right? He wouldn’t do anything to get you into trouble with Joel. And like he always says, what Joel doesn’t know won’t kill him. 

You can’t ever pull one over on Joel, but you can try. And if Tommy’s right, and he probably is - you’ll succeed.  

“Good girl,” says Tommy, pulling your body into his lap. He unbuttons your shorts and pushes them down your legs, then cups your pussy with his large hand. You sigh at the relief that comes with the pressure, resting against Tommy’s chest. “C’mere, honey. I gotcha.” 

You spread your legs for him and he rubs you through your panties, just lazily at first, feeling you dampen the fabric. He traces your clit next, “Oh, fuck,” you moan, leaning into him. “More,” you gasp. 

Tommy slides his hand under your panties, touching your bare heat. You’re so fucking warm and so fucking wet, with that pool of arousal he’s created. And it didn’t take much, did it? No, no. Of course not, not when you’ve been starving for it for so long. Longer than a week, too. Tommy knows the way you look at him and what goes on in that head of yours. And if he were a betting man, he’d bet that when you do summon the courage to get yourself off on your own fingers, despite Joel’s rule, that you’re thinking of him. Maybe not every time, but enough.  

“Uncle Tommy,” you moan, eyes squeezing shut as you arch into his touch. You rock your hips as he circles your clit, reaching for his thick bicep. You hold him tightly, whimpering, “Oh my god.”

“Y’wanna hold onto me?” Tommy chuckles quietly, rubbing you slowly. “You can hold onto me, sweet pea. M’not goin’ nowhere. Jus’ you and me right now, sweet girl.” 

He’s so warm, and he smells so fucking good. It’s nice to be in a pair of arms that are safe and dangerous, but different from Joel’s safe and dangerous. You watch yourself in the freshly cleaned windows, all wrecked as Tommy pleasures you. 

He’s sliding his fingers down your seam next, then pushing two into your entrance. And it’s when he curls them rhythmically, looking for that special, sweet little place deep inside you, that you really start to moan. “Relax,” Tommy whispers, squeezing you tightly. “Hold still, honey. Be good.” 

Tommy shifts the positions a bit so he can rub your clit with his other hand while fucking you on his fingers. It’s not long before release is right around the corner, with all of that hot, sparkling pleasure blooming deep in your gut. Your thighs begin to shake and twitch, “You cum nice for me now,” he whispers. “Show Uncle Tommy how hard you can cum.” 

And that’s all it takes for you to fall apart, crying out loudly as he fucks you through your orgasm. Tommy doesn’t let up until you’re a shuddering, gasping mess, until he’s made certain that your needs have been met. A goddamn week, he thinks. That’s fucking ridiculous.

“You cum so pretty, sweetheart,” Tommy whispers, pulling his fingers away from your cunt. They’re all shiny and drenched in your arousal, and he brings them to his lips and sucks them clean. He pats you twice and you get up and off of him, all shy and bashful as he stands up and stretches, his rock-hard erection bulging through his denim. “Fuck, look whatcha do t’me,” he groans, pressing his palm against it. “I’m off, kiddo. Gonna let me leave without a hug and a kiss?” he asks. 

You wrap your arms around his thick middle quickly, perhaps needing the hug more than Tommy even does. You kiss his cheek, and Tommy squeezes your ass. “Alright. Keep outta trouble, honey. I’ll see ya when I see ya.”

A few hours later, Joel’s barely got a foot in the door before you’re taking him by the hand and leading him through the house, showing him how well you cleaned everything. “Jesus, girl. Can’t a man eat dinner first?” 

“No,” you answer. “Look at the windows.”

Joel laughs, “I know, I see ‘em, Pumpkin. They’re sparklin’.” 

“And the baseboards–”

“Are nice and dusted, I see it all, sweetheart. You did good. Wanna go get your stickers?” 

You show Joel that you’ve already got your stickers and your chart in hand. “Go ‘head and put ‘em on then, honey. Y’did good,” Joel says, then pauses as you put the rest of the stickers down. The only one that’s missing is dishes and table setting for today, but that’s because it hasn’t been done yet. Joel tells you he trusts you, and you can put the stickers down anyway. “And you did do it all by yourself, right, Pumpkin?” 

“Mhm,” you lie. 

“An’ if I ask Uncle Tommy if he helped, what’s he gonna tell me?”

“No,” you lie again. 

“Good answer,” Joel replies, then pauses. “Did you play with yourself this week?” he asks.

“No.” 

“Promise?” Joel asks. “Did anyone else play with ya?”

“Nope,” you tell him. Joel smiles, then kisses you on the head and sits down on the couch as you admire your chart. You join him on the couch, sliding onto his lap instead of taking your usual place right next to him.

“Hey, you,” Joel smiles. “What’re you makin’ me for dinner, hm?”

You shrug. “I’m not even hungry,” you tell Joel, and he makes a face. 

“Sure you’re not.” 

You think you know what that means, what he’s doing. He’s deliberately quiet, waiting for you to ask for what you want. But you say nothing as you sit on his lap, eyes wide as you wait and wait and wait for what you’ve earned, squirming on his lap a little. “Whatcha so squirrely for?” he asks finally. 

“You know, Daddy.” 

“Mmm. Don’t think I do,” Joel drawls. “M’not a mind reader, Pumpkin.” 

But you’re too shy to say it out loud. So you take Joel’s hand and stand up, yanking him with you. He groans as he stands up, knees cracking. You hold his hand as you lead him toward the stairwell, “Where ya takin’ me?” he asks. 

“Mmmuhno,” you mumble, walking up the stairs with Joel trailing behind. 

“You dunno, huh?” he teases, amused as you take him towards his room. “Mmm, Daddy’s room. Okay,” he sighs dramatically. “Guess it’s bedtime, since Pumpkin says so. And I was gonna let ya stay up an’ everything, but alright.” 

You’re such a quiet, shy girl as you sit on the end of Joel’s bed, swinging your feet as he undresses himself. You pull at a string on your shorts, waiting for Joel to get the hint. You’re sure he does, but he’s just dragging this out, the same way you are, really. 

Joel, standing naked except for his boxers, turns to you. “Y’look like you’ve got somethin’ on your mind, sweetheart.” 

“Mm-mm,” you lie, unable to hide the smile that makes your lips curl up. 

“Oh, I think ya do. Wanna tell me what it is?” Joel asks. 

Finally, you relent. “Did I earn back my privileges?” you ask, biting down on your smile. 

Joel chuckles. “Was wonderin’ when you’d ask,” he says, leaning in close. He puts both of his hands on your knees, squeezing you there. “Yes. You earned ‘em back, Pumpkin.” 

You hum in delight and smile so big, then whisper something in Joel’s ear. “Well lie on down, then,” Joel murmurs. “You know what to do.” 

It takes no time at all for you to take off your clothes and lie on Joel’s bed completely naked, legs folded in half and swaying side to side as you wait for that inevitable dip in the mattress that comes from Joel settling between your thighs. It arrives all in good time, and Joel spreads you wide so he can devour you alive. 

He pushes your knees toward your chest and wears a crooked smirk at how anxious you look, ready for him to start. You’re wiggling your fingers, fidgeting with his comforter. Joel teases you with a couple of kisses pressed against your knees and your inner thighs. “Daddy,” you whine, pushing your hips toward his face. 

“Oh, I know, I know,” Joel murmurs, quieting your whines with a kiss to your pussy. “Iiii know, sweet baby girl.” He licks you from bottom to top with his tongue flattened, dragging it slowly through your slick folds. And Christ, how swollen you are - poor thing. But you did it to yourself, didn’t you?

“I am so–” Joel interrupts himself to suck on your clit a little, “So proud of you, Pumpkin,” he says, “My girl. You did so good for me, baby.” 

His beard tickles your inner thighs as he kisses you all over, then goes back to your clit. He circles it a few times with his tongue, then licks lower, burying his tongue in your soft, dripping entrance. You reach for his beautiful aquiline nose as he fucks you on his tongue, drawing up that gorgeous slope and past his forehead, tangling your fingers in his curly, graying hair. 

“Daddy,” you moan, whimpering for Joel as he drags his tongue back up and down your folds. He builds a rhythmic pace then, circling your clit repeatedly, all while allowing you to rock and grind against his face. He guides you orgasm quickly, savoring the way you gush into his mouth, your clit throbbing beneath his tongue. 

You’re fucking soaked, a mess of both Joel and yourself. Joel shoves his boxers down his thighs, erection springing against his soft tummy, and swipes his fingers through your folds. He collects your arousal on his hand, then uses it to coat his hard length. “Ready?” he asks, hovering over you. 

“Mhm.”

“Y’wanna help Daddy put it in?” 

You nod quickly. Joel knows you like to have some semblance of control over the pace at which he enters you, so he likes to grant you that. Not always, though. Sometimes he’ll split you in half just to remind you of who’s in charge here, usually when you get a little mouthy or something like that. 

You take Joel’s cock in your hand, tracing the bulbous head and the veins that climb up the shaft. You tilt your hips and drag him through your folds, sighing softly at the way you tease yourself. 

“You’re killin’ me here, kid,” Joel grunts, taking your wrist in his hand to stop you. 

“Sorry.”

“S’all good, baby.” 

You notch his tip at your entrance. “Your turn, Daddy,” you tell Joel softly. 

And in he goes. He slides into you slowly, filling you with the entirety of his length. “Ohh, big stretch. Attagirl,” he praises, grunting as he bottoms out. 

It always takes you a minute to get used to him. You do your little routine, make your little faces as you squirm and get used to his cock stretching you out, and when you’re ready, Joel begins to move. “Watch,” he says. “Look, look. Wanna show you something,” Joel tells you softly. You lift your head as he pulls out, his thick length all coated in your arousal. “Ain’t that somethin’?”

“Yeah,” you agree, letting your head fall back again. Joel braces himself on his forearm as he thrusts back into you, building to a slow pace. He’s in no rush, really, not when he’s sliding his big hand up your waist and over your ribcage and squeezes you there. He could crush you, you know. His delicate girl. He could do it. 

Joel bends down and skims his mouth and the tip of his nose over your breasts, taking time to wrap his lips around both of your nipples. He loves you so much, the elegant, gentle shapes of your body. All of those curves, all for him. 

The special way he fucks you - nothing comes close to this. No matter what, good day or bad, this will always be yours and Joel’s to savor. 

His cock is dragging against your g-spot, his pubic hair grinding against your clit. It’s all becoming too much, too sensitive for you to even cum. But Joel tells you to anyway. “Can’t, Daddy,” you whimper.

“Sure ya can,” Joel says. “S’been a week, honey. I know you’re needin’ it.” 

But are you, though? Not really, when Tommy took your punishment and reward into his own hands and made good and sure that you were well satiated before he left. And with the orgasm Joel pulled from you using his tongue, well. 

“One more, nice and big,” Joel encourages. “Show your daddy how hard you can cum on his cock, huh?”

Funny. Didn’t Tommy say the same thing?

Joel rubs your clit in practiced circles, coaxing along your release as he thrusts into you harder, faster, and deeper. And then it’s happening, and Joel’s name is spilling from your lips in breathy moans as you cum so hard on his cock, feeling indescribably full as your pussy pulses around him. It’s such a weighted, overwhelming feeling, and it washes over you in wave after wave. “Oh, baby girl.” Joel’s right behind you, breathing your name as he milks himself with your cunt, spurting rope after rope of his cum. “Take it nice an’ deep f’me,” he says, and like the most perfect girl you are, you take it all. 

Joel pulls out of you, not worried about the cum that spills on his comforter. It’s seen better days anyway, he thinks. 

After you both come down, Joel breaks the silence. “Think we should redo our date?” he asks, still breathing heavily. 

“Yes,” you answer. 

“I think so too,” he says. “Go pick somethin’ pretty to wear, and meet me in the shower to get cleaned up. Maybe we’ll see Uncle Tommy there or somethin’ too, huh?”

-

more dark daddy!joel here

anyway, i love ya. thank you for reading ♡ please dirty talk me in my inbox and reblog, because your words go a very long way in keeping me motivated to write. wouldn't be doin' this without ya.

aaaand the cat tax. remember that when it takes me a while to publish a fic, THIS IS WHO IS MAKING IT DIFFICULT TO DO SO!! okay!! do you see this! he's sitting on my arm like a fuck. fricken gizmo.

[gojover]

the kids in sugawara’s class know he’s married.

they know because sugawara talks about you all the time. he tries not to, really, but sometimes it slips out when he’s explaining fractions or handing out worksheets. my wife says this is the best way to remember your times tables. or my wife packed these cookies—they’re pretty good, right?

still, knowing he’s married is one thing. seeing his wife drop by his classroom in the middle of the day is another. 

it’s a mercy, he thinks, that the kids are out in the playground for recess.

“you forgot this,” you say, leaning against the doorframe with a fond smile. his lunchbox dangles from your hand.

sugawara blinks. “did i?”

“you did.”

“that’s weird,” he says, though it’s not weird. he’d been running late this morning after you’d kissed him goodbye a little too long. “you sure you didn’t just want an excuse to see me?”

you step into the classroom, walking over to his desk. “would that be so bad?”

he hums. “not at all.”

you set the lunchbox down in front of him. sugawara watches you quietly—the soft curve of your smile, the way the sunlight catches in your hair. he’s a little obsessed with you, but he figures that’s allowed.

“you’re lucky i caught you before you starved to death,” you tell him.

“would’ve been a tragic way to go,” sugawara agrees solemnly. his hands ghosts over yours on the desk, thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“but then again, maybe i’d be doing the school a favour.”

“harsh.” sugawara brushes the pad of his thumb lazily over the back of your palm. his hand slides up to your wrist, fingers curling lightly. “thanks for bringing me my lunch. very thoughtful of you.”

“mm,” you hum, leaning in slightly. “i’m a very thoughtful person.”

he tilts his head, eyes crinkling in the corner when he smiles. he has crow’s feet, but he doesn’t mind, because the reason behind them, more often than not, is you. “you’re perfect, is what you are.”

“flatterer,” you say, but you don’t pull away.

sugawara’s gaze flickers towards the door. the hallway is still empty. the sounds of recess carry through the open window—kids laughing, a distant whistle. he doesn’t think about it too hard. he never really does when it comes to you. he leans in, his hand sliding from your wrist to your waist as he lifts his head. his mouth brushes over yours, soft and sure. it’s just a press of his lips against yours, but you lean into him like you’ve been waiting for it all day.

it’s quick—it has to be, with recess almost over—but sugawara can’t help the dopey grin that spreads across his face. he’s lovesick, and terribly so. you leave his classroom with a smile and a promise to see him at home, and sugawara’s hands and heart are warm when he unwraps the bento you’d packed for him.

the kids pour in later, loud and messy, with sweat dripping off their foreheads and grass stains on their knees. one little boy with a slightly runny nose stops in front of his desk, peering at him suspiciously.

“sensei?” he asks. “why are you smiling like that?”

sugawara shakes his head, fighting back a grin. “do i need a reason to smile?’

“sensei,” another girl, with her hair tied in two pigtails, groans. “do we have to do math again?”

“yep,” he says, “but after that, i’ll read out a really sweet poem that my wife showed me the other day. how does that sound?”

#12. sneaking away to a hidden corner to share a secretive kiss.

[loafysainz]

DONT GO DADDY | LN 4

lando norris!dad x reader!mom

no warn

hope you guys enjoy it!!

Lando had two more days at home before he had to leave for the next race weekend. Two days before he’d have to pack his bags, say goodbye, and be away for who-knows-how-long.

The thing is—his kids didn’t even know that yet.

Noah and Leo, his little shadows, had been extra clingy lately. Usually, Leo was glued to their mom, a total mama’s boy, while Noah was more independent. But this past week? The two of them were stuck to Lando like glue. If he so much as stepped out of the room, one (or both) would come running, calling out for him like he was about to disappear forever.

Like right now.

Lando was just sorting through some stuff in the living room when he suddenly felt two tiny pairs of arms wrap around his legs. He glanced down, finding Noah and Leo latched onto him, looking up with teary eyes.

“What’s up, little dudes?” he teased, ruffling Noah’s curls while patting Leo’s head. “Why are you guys crying, huh?”

Noah sniffled. “Daddy… hug.”

Leo nodded aggressively, arms still wrapped tight around Lando’s leg. “Want hug, Daddy.”

Lando crouched down, opening his arms. “Ohhh, you want me to hug you? Come here then.”

And just like that, his two little monsters launched themselves into his chest, squeezing him like their lives depended on it. Lando chuckled, lifting them both up in his arms.

“What’s gotten into you two, huh? You’ve been extra cuddly this week.”

Noah pouted, gripping Lando’s hoodie. “Don’t go.”

Lando blinked. “Go where?”

Leo’s lips wobbled. “Work.”

Noah, never one to be left out, “Yeah! We miss you when you go!”

Ah. They didn’t know he was leaving in two days, but somehow, they felt it.

And just like that, Lando’s heart completely melted. He sighed, rubbing their backs as they both continued to sniffle into his hoodie.

“Daddy’s right here, baby,” he murmured, rocking them gently. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“But later you go work again.” Noah mumbled, his little fingers fisting Lando’s hoodies like he was scared he’d disappear right then and there.

Lando exhaled, tilting his head back for a second before pressing a kiss to both their foreheads. “You know why Daddy goes to work, right?”

They both shook their heads, big eyes still filled with tears.

“I go so I can make money,” he explained gently. “And you know what money gets us?”

Noah thought about it for a second. “Ice cream?”

Lando chuckled. “Yes, and toys. And our house. And everything we need. If I don’t go, then we don’t get those things.”

Leo sniffled. “But I just want you.”

Lando swore his heart physically hurt. He pulled them both in even tighter. “I know, buddy. And I want to be here too. But I promise, I’ll always come back. And when I do, we’ll have fun as much as you want, okay?”

After a few more minutes of calming them down, their little bodies finally relaxed against him. The house was quiet except for their soft breathing, and Lando realized they had completely passed out on him—Leo using his arm as a pillow, and Noah curled up into his side.

That was exactly how his wife—y/n found them when she walked in.

She paused in the doorway, eyes widening at the rare moment of silence. Usually, their house was a warzone of giggles and chaos, but right now? It was peaceful. Too peaceful.

She tiptoed closer, peeking into the family room, and immediately felt her heart melt. There they were—her three favorite people, all tangled up on the couch, fast asleep.

Lando had one arm draped protectively over both boys, his head resting against the back of the couch. Noah was tucked under his chin, while Leo had somehow managed to shove himself into Lando’s side, one tiny hand gripping his hoodie even in sleep.

She smiled to herself, shaking her head fondly.

Yeah. She was definitely taking a picture of this.

[rmview]

accidentally leaking their relationship, SKZ.

featuring — stray kids members x gn!reader  ( masterlist )

summary — a reaction of how the stray kids boys end up leaking their relationship accidentally!

contents — crack, fluff, no warnings.

bang ♡ chan

bang chan was always meticulous about keeping your relationship under wraps. as the leader of stray kids, he knew how quickly rumors could spiral and wanted to protect you from unnecessary scrutiny. but even someone as careful as him could make a mistake.

it happened during one of his famous live broadcasts. chan was sitting in his studio, casually chatting with fans as he fiddled with some tracks on his computer. he was explaining his latest project when a notification popped up on his screen. without thinking, he clicked it, and for a brief second, a picture of the two of you appeared.

it wasn’t anything scandalous — just a selfie of you leaning against his shoulder, both of you smiling softly. but it was enough. the comments exploded almost instantly.

who was that??? is chan dating someone??? did i just see a girl??? that girl was me guys, chill

bang chan’s eyes widened as he realized what had happened. “oh, uh…” he scratched the back of his neck, trying to think fast. “that was… an old picture! a friend sent it to me earlier. sorry about that, everyone!”

he quickly ended the broadcast, his heart racing as he leaned back in his chair. a million thoughts ran through his head — had anyone managed to screenshot it? what would the company say? more importantly, what would you think?

when he called you later to explain, you laughed softly, though he could hear the worry in your voice. “it’s okay, chan. it was bound to happen at some point.”

“no, it’s not okay,” he insisted. “i promised to keep this private for your sake, and i slipped up.”

“you’re human,” you reassured him. “and besides, we’ll handle whatever happens together, right?”

hearing your calm voice eased some of his guilt. “yeah, together,” he said softly. “but i’m still going to be extra careful from now on.”

felix ♡

felix adored you, and while he was determined to keep your relationship private, he sometimes let his excitement get the best of him.

the leak happened when felix was baking cookies during a live broadcast. fans loved his warm, cozy streams, and he often shared stories and tips while he worked. as he was mixing dough, his phone lit up with a message from you. without thinking, he glanced at it and smiled.

“sorry, guys,” he said, holding up the phone. “just got a cute message from…” he froze, realizing what he’d just said, gaze falling to the chat that erupted with curiosity.

from who??? felix, are you hiding something??? who’s the cute message from???

felix’s face turned beet red as he stammered, “uh, from my… my friend! yeah, just a good friend.” he laughed nervously, quickly changing the subject to the cookies.

after the stream, he called you in a panic. “i think i messed up,” he admitted, pacing his room. “i almost said too much!”

you couldn’t help but laugh. “relax, lix. it’s not the end of the world.”

“but i want to protect you from all this,” he said, his voice laced with guilt. “i don’t want you dragged into the spotlight because of me.”

“felix,” you said softly, “i know you’ll do your best. and no matter what happens, i’m not going anywhere.”

his heart melted at your reassurance. “you’re too good to me,” he murmured. “but i’ll be more careful. promise.”

lee ♡ know

lee know was famously private, so the idea of accidentally exposing your relationship was something he had nightmares about. he was cautious, always double-checking everything he posted and keeping personal moments strictly offline.

the slip-up came during a group photoshoot. the boys were filming behind-the-scenes content for fans, and lee know had forgotten that he’d left your bracelet on his wrist. it was subtle — a simple silver band engraved with your initials — but eagle-eyed fans didn’t miss a thing. as the content was uploaded online, surprised comments flooded in.

is that… a couple bracelet??? whose initials are those? lee know, explain yourself!!!!

when he saw the comments later, lee know’s heart sank. he immediately called his manager, working out a way to downplay the situation. “it’s just a gift from a close friend,” he said during a live broadcast, keeping his tone neutral.

later that night, he came over to your place, still visibly upset. “i’m sorry,” he said as soon as you opened the door.

you tilted your head, confused. “for what?”

“for being careless,” he said, holding up his wrist. “i should’ve taken it off before the shoot.”

you smiled, reaching out to take his hand. “minho, it’s okay. it’s just a bracelet. and honestly, i’m kind of proud they noticed — i like seeing you wear it.”

his lips twitched into a small smile. “you’re too understanding.”

“i trust you,” you said simply. “and no matter what happens, i’m not worried.”

lee know wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on your head. “i’ll be more careful next time. but i’m glad you’re not mad.”

“i could never be mad at you,” you teased, making him chuckle softly.

hyun ♡ jin

hyunjin was a hopeless romantic, and his love for you was something he carried with him everywhere. he was cautious about keeping your relationship private but couldn’t help tiny, subtle slips — moments where his affection for you shone through.

the leak happened during a spontaneous live broadcast. hyunjin was lounging on the couch, answering fans’ questions, when someone asked about the small ring on his pinky finger. without thinking, he smiled.

“oh, this?” he held it up, admiring the simple band. “it’s, uh… special to me.”

the chat exploded:

special? like… how??? hyunjin, tell us the truth!!! guys chill that was my anniversary present to him

realizing what he’d done, his eyes widened slightly, and he quickly tried to play it off. “it’s just a good luck charm,” he said with a nervous laugh, switching topics to his latest dance project.

after the live ended, hyunjin flopped onto the couch, groaning into a cushion. he called you immediately, his voice full of guilt. “i messed up. they noticed the ring, and i think they know it’s from you.”

you laughed softly on the other end of the line. “hyunjin, it’s not a big deal. they don’t know for sure.”

“but i feel like i betrayed your trust,” he said, sitting up. “i promised to be careful, and now people might start guessing things.”

“hyunjin,” you said gently, “you don’t have to carry all of this by yourself. we’ll handle it together, okay?”

hearing your reassurance made him feel a little better. “i’m so lucky to have you,” he murmured. “but i’ll be more careful — i don’t want anything to put you in a tough spot.”

jeong ♡ in

jeongin was naturally shy, and dating you was something he kept close to his heart. he wanted to protect your privacy, knowing how overwhelming things could get if the public found out. but even he wasn’t immune to slip-ups.

it happened during a group photoshoot. as the members joked around, jeongin absentmindedly pulled out his phone to check a message from you. a staff member teasingly asked, “who’s got your attention so much, innie?”

without thinking, jeongin blushed and muttered, “just my —” he caught himself, but the damage was done. his hyungs immediately caught on, and a few snickered. “your what, jeongin?”

the teasing moment was captured on camera and uploaded to a behind-the-scenes video. fans were quick to pick up on his slip, speculating about who he might be texting.

jeongin panicked when he saw the comments later. “they’re going to figure it out,” he fretted, pacing his room as he called you.

you tried to calm him down. “jeongin, it’s fine. people speculate all the time — it doesn’t mean they know anything for sure.”

“but what if they do?” he asked, his voice small. “i don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

you smiled softly, even though he couldn’t see it. “i trust you, and i’m not worried. just be yourself, okay? you don’t have to carry this alone.”

his heart swelled at your words. “you’re too good to me,” he said quietly. “i’ll do better — i promise.”

han ♡

han tried to keep your relationship private, but his naturally playful and forgetful nature meant he occasionally slipped up. one of those moments came when he was recording behind-the-scenes content for a vlog.

as he was showing off his desk setup in the dorm, the camera accidentally panned over a sticky note on the wall that read, “love you, idiot - y/n.” fans immediately paused and zoomed in, and the comment section blew up.

who’s y/n??? han has a girlfriend??? explain yourself to our kids, han jisung!!!

han didn’t notice the uproar until much later, when staff informed him about the growing buzz online. his first reaction was pure panic. “what? how did they see that?!”

he went back to the dorm and immediately called you. “i think i messed up big time,” he admitted, pacing nervously. “your name showed up in the vlog, and people are already talking about it.”

you chuckled softly, though you could tell he was freaking out. “jisung, it’s okay. it’s not like they know anything else.”

“but they’ll start digging,” he groaned. “what if they find out more? i hate the thought of you being dragged into this.”

“hey,” you said gently, “we’ll figure it out. i’m not mad, and i trust you to handle it.”

he sighed, sitting down on his bed. “you’re way too understanding, you know that? i’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again. you deserve better than this kind of stress.”

hearing the guilt in his voice, you reassured him once more. “i’m not worried, jisung. just promise me you’ll stop beating yourself up about it.”

he smiled, feeling a little better. “promise. i’ll be more careful — for you.”

seung ♡ min

seungmin was always composed and cautious, but even he wasn’t immune to the occasional slip-up. he valued your privacy deeply and did his best to ensure your relationship stayed out of the public eye. however, the unthinkable happened during a live broadcast with the group.

the members were joking around when a fan asked who among them was most romantic. changbin teasingly pointed to seungmin, and someone else chimed in, “yeah, seungmin’s probably the type to write love letters.”

seungmin, caught off guard, laughed and muttered, “well, y/n likes —” he froze mid-sentence, realizing what he’d just said. the room fell silent for a beat before the other members burst out laughing to cover for him.

“who’s y/n, seungmin?” hyunjin teased, but seungmin waved it off, cheeks flushed. “no one! i meant, uh, someone i know…” he mumbled, quickly redirecting the conversation.

after the broadcast ended, seungmin rushed to call you. “i slipped up,” he said, his voice laced with frustration. “i said your name. people might connect the dots.”

you chuckled, trying to calm him down. “seungmin, it’s okay. it was an honest mistake.”

“but i promised to protect your privacy,” he argued, guilt evident in his tone. “i don’t want this to affect you.”

“seungmin,” you reassured him, “you’re overthinking it. it’s not like they have any proof. let’s not stress over something we can’t change.”

he let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. “you’re always so calm about these things. i don’t deserve you.”

“you’re doing your best,” you said softly. “and that’s more than enough for me.”

seungmin smiled, feeling the tension in his chest ease. “i’ll be more careful from now on. you mean too much to me to let this happen again.”

chang ♡ bin

changbin had always been an affectionate boyfriend, often expressing his love through sweet words and gestures. however, his bubbly personality and tendency to speak without thinking occasionally got him into trouble.

the slip happened during a studio vlog. changbin was casually showing off his recording setup when his phone lit up with a notification. the camera caught the preview of your text, which read: “don’t work too hard today, okay? love you 💕”

he didn’t realize it at first, but eagle-eyed fans did. within minutes of the vlog’s release, screenshots flooded social media, sparking speculation about who the message was from.

when changbin finally saw the comments, his heart sank. “oh no,” he muttered, replaying the clip and realizing what had happened.

he immediately called you, his voice a mix of guilt and worry. “i messed up, babe. your message showed up in the vlog, and fans are already talking about it.”

you were silent for a moment before laughing softly. “changbin, it’s okay. these things happen.”

“but i should’ve been more careful,” he argued, pacing his studio. “i don’t want you to deal with any negativity because of me.”

“hey,” you interrupted gently, “i’m not upset, and i’m not worried. if anything, it’s kind of sweet — they saw how much you care about me.”

her words made his chest tighten with affection. “you’re way too understanding,” he said, his voice softening. “but i’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again. you don’t deserve to deal with any stress because of me.”

“you’re overthinking it,” you teased. “but if it makes you feel better, i trust you to be careful next time.”

changbin smiled, his heart feeling lighter. “thank you for being so amazing. i’ll make it up to you — i promise.”

notes: hope you guys enjoyed reading this because i enjoyed writing it a little too much xD

[ari-ana-bel-la]

I loved ur Charles!dad and teen daughter sm can u do one where he takes her to the paddock and she gets lost and helped around by the other drivers xx

Lost and found

The car ride to the circuit was filled with the soft hum of the engine and the distant buzz of the fans already gathering outside. Yn sat in the passenger seat, her phone in her hands, fingers scrolling through social media while her dad drove with practiced ease.

“Yn,” he called, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “Stay close to me today, okay? It’s going to be really crowded. I don’t want anything to happen to you, and if something does, your mother will kill me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Yn mumbled, not really paying attention as she double-tapped a picture.

“I mean it,” her dad pressed, his voice firm but warm. “Stay close. Promise me.”

“I promise,” she said absentmindedly, her eyes still fixed on her screen.

When they arrived at the paddock, the sheer volume of people was overwhelming. Fans, media, team members—all swarming through the narrow pathways, voices mixing together in a loud, chaotic symphony. The moment Yn stepped out of the car, the sound engulfed her.

She followed her dad as he walked toward the entrance, waving at a few familiar faces. He kept glancing back to make sure she was following, but Yn barely noticed. Her phone buzzed with messages from friends asking for pictures and updates, and she got distracted answering them.

A few steps later, when she finally lifted her head, the crowd seemed to have grown thicker. People pressed around her, conversations and laughter filling the air. Panic prickled at her chest as she realized her dad was nowhere in sight.

“Dad?” she called out, her voice swallowed by the noise.

No answer. Her heart started to race as she stood still, trying to catch a glimpse of his familiar figure in the sea of faces. Nothing. Everyone was taller than her, making it nearly impossible to see beyond the immediate bustle.

“Okay, stay calm,” she whispered to herself, gripping her phone tighter. “He can’t be far.”

“Yn?” a familiar voice called, cutting through her rising panic. She turned around to see her Uncle Carlos and Uncle Lando approaching, both wearing their team polos and matching concerned expressions.

“What are you doing here by yourself?” Lando asked, eyes scanning the crowd around them.

Relief washed over Yn like a wave, and she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “I was with Dad, but I looked at my phone for, like, a second, and now he’s gone,” she admitted sheepishly.

Carlos chuckled softly. “A second, huh? You sound just like him.”

“Come on,” Lando said, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “We’ll help you find him before he has a heart attack.”

As they made their way through the paddock, Carlos and Lando kept her close, exchanging light banter to ease her nerves.

“So,” Lando teased, “how many selfies have you taken already today?”

Yn rolled her eyes. “I’m not that obsessed.”

Carlos grinned. “I bet your dad would disagree.”

They turned a corner and nearly bumped into Pierre, who was sipping a coffee and looking far too relaxed for the chaos around him.

“Why do you have a lost child?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“She lost her dad,” Carlos explained, biting back a smile.

“I did not lose him,” Yn protested. “He disappeared.”

Pierre chuckled, tipping his coffee cup toward her. “Sounds like you. Come on, I’ll join the rescue mission.”

With their little group now four strong, they continued toward the Ferrari garage. As they approached, the bright red of the garage felt like a beacon of hope. Just outside, Lewis was stepping inside, his calm demeanor as unwavering as always.

When he spotted Yn, his face softened into a warm smile. “There you are,” he said, opening his arms without hesitation.

Yn didn’t think twice before stepping into the comforting hug. “Hi, Lewis,” she mumbled against his chest.

“Let’s get you back to your dad before he loses his mind,” Lewis said gently, leading her inside while the others hung back with knowing grins.

The moment they entered the driver’s room, Yn saw her dad pacing back and forth, running a hand through his already messy hair. His head snapped up when the door opened, and his face went from stressed to relieved in a heartbeat.

“Dad!” Yn called, rushing into his arms.

He caught her, wrapping her tightly against him. Neither of them spoke for a long moment, just holding on as if they were afraid to let go.

“I was so worried,” he murmured into her hair, his voice slightly shaky. “You promised to stay close.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Yn whispered. “But I’m okay now.”

They stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s embrace, until her dad finally exhaled a deep breath and leaned back to look at her. “We are never telling your mother about this,” he said firmly.

Yn laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “Never.”

Lewis, leaning against the wall with a fond smile, cleared his throat. “Glad we found her in time. Otherwise, I think we’d all be in trouble.”

“You have no idea,” her dad muttered, but his grip on Yn didn’t loosen one bit.

Yn felt safe in her dad’s arms, and even though the paddock was still loud and chaotic outside, everything felt right again in that small room filled with the people who cared about her the most.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoy this story as much as I do. My requests are always open for you.

-💙🦋

[dragonsondragons]

Self Care - Jack Abbot x Resident!Reader

Summary: Jack’s new girlfriend takes self care really seriously given the line of work they’re in. He starts to observe these habits and some of them rub off on him.

Tags: Super fluffy, no use of y/n, implied age gap, suggested sexual activity, no real smut just Jack feeling you up a little, beekeeper!Jack

Author’s Note: Why am I obsessed with beekeeper!jack. There may be more where this came from because I had so much fun with this one– perhaps Jack and reader gardening (wink wink) while in their garden? Leads to sweet and slow stoned sex? Let me know what you think or if you have any requests! I’m always looking for more ideas. 

Also, fill out this google form if you'd like to be added to my taglist :)

You do your little stretching routine after you wake up and you ask him if he wants to join you. He gives it a try, reluctantly at first. Then he starts to realize how good it makes him feel and does it with you every time. 

“What's this pep in your step you got going on here, brother?” Robby notices one day at hand-off. “Something to do with your favorite resident? Or should I say…new lady friend,” he does a little jazz hands.

“I regret ever telling you about us,” Jack rolls his eyes at lady friend. “But yeah, actually. She’s got me stretching when we wake up,” he explains.

“Ah. She’s got you whipped is what you mean.”

Jack chuckles under his breath. “Fuck off, stretching is good for you. And being whipped isn’t so bad either.” ____

You have a little garden that you tend to in the morning as the sun’s still rising right when you get off shift. It's cathartic, to take care of something that can't puke or bleed on you. Can’t punch you in the face. 

Both you and Jack had worked last night and it was a tough one. One of those nights where it felt like you lost more than you saved. You asked Jack to come back to your place after the shift ended, just wanting to be near him after your hell of a day. 

It was still early in your relationship, you had only spent the night at Jack’s place. This was his first time coming to stay at yours. 

You could tell he was so exhausted that you offered to drive home and he eventually accepted. He sat in the passenger seat of his Tacoma with his eyes closed as you drove, envisioning a shower, you looking soft in a ratty old t-shirt, and eating take out on the couch before going to sleep.

Instead, after you made two mugs of tea and set one before him on the coffee table, you headed to the backyard, slipping through the sliding glass door with a quiet “be right back, have to take care of some stuff real quick.”

After you’re gone more than 10 minutes and he almost dozed off twice, he started to wonder what this stuff was. He peeks out the glass door, seeing you knelt down at the edge of a garden bed peeling weeds out of the ground around your plants. The garden hose was on, filling up a big watering can to your left.

He comes to stand next to your kneeling form, placing a tender hand on the crown of your head and lightly running his fingers through your hair. “What are you doing, baby?”

“Checking on the plants. It helps me clear my mind from the day.” You smile softly up at him, see his free hand rub at his weary eyes. “Why don’t you go hop in the shower, I’ll be right in," you promise. He nods, turns to head back inside. 

He couldn’t believe you wanted to be pulling weeds and lugging watering cans after a shift. But when you trailed in a few minutes later, joining him under the spray of the water, he could see the way your shoulders were looser. You were more peaceful, at ease. It made him feel more calm too, just knowing you felt a little bit better. 

He started lugging bags of soil for you the following mornings. Dug up trenches to lay a new irrigation system for the crops. This time of spring brought so many birds tweeting around in the morning air, the perfect sound track to your calming moments together in the garden.

It was a peaceful endeavor, one Jack never thought he would find himself doing but turns out he absolutely loves it. After you tell him about the benefits of pollinators he really wants to start keeping bees (Jack Abbot is beekeeping age). He does all this research about it to make sure he doesn’t fuck with the bees, wants to do it right. Gets the whole mesh suit which you can't stop laughing at the first time he puts it on. Names his hive Beetopia. He's serious about these bees and you find it so endearing. You love that he's meshing into your life like this, making his own niche in something you both do together.

Sometimes when there isn’t much to be done he’ll make breakfast while you tend to the garden. He will always try to utilize the fruits and vegetables you grow as well as his self-harvested honey whenever he can. You eat it out on the patio, admiring the work the two of you have done. Your own little paradise. ____

Out of all the self care tactics that you have brought into his life, the bubble bath is definitely one of his sleeper favorites. His house had a huge bathtub in it that he never once used. One of the first times you stayed over, you went to use the bathroom before going to bed. His eyes were already closed when he heard you squeal in the en suite attached to his room. 

“How did you not tell me about this!” you yelled out to him. 

“What, the bathroom?” he responded half asleep and confused. You came back into the room and jumped into the bed next to him, resting your chin on his chest. He peeked his eyes open as he rubbed up and down your back.

“No! That massive tub, genius!” He was surprised. Hadn’t thought once about that thing since he moved in. 

“You like it?”

“I don't like it, Jack. I love it. Baths are so soothing and rejuvenating. I always feel like a newborn baby when I get out of the bath. And I don't have a tub at my place.”

“You’re welcome to use it anytime you want, honey.” He shifted you to your side, cuddling into you and kissing your cheek. 

“You’re too good to me. And as a reward I’m making you get in there with me.” he lets out a breath of a laugh as he drifts off to sleep with you in his arms. ___

You both had the next day off, for once. So there was no time like the present to christen Jack’s bathtub. He was nervous about getting in, not being able to wear his prosthetic to keep him stable, but you got in first and held onto him tight as he stepped over the edge and eased himself down into the water. You settled in front of him, letting out a breath as you melted back into him. 

You thought you liked baths already, but this was pure bliss. His strong body against you, your breaths synching up. He washed your hair and you washed his. The warm water soothed his achy back and the overcompensating muscles in his leg. 

Safe to say, baths become a regular occurrence for you two.

You get him a matching fluffy robe with a hood because one time he said he was jealous of how cozy you looked in yours after a bath. Once, Shen stopped by to drop off the butterfly portable ultrasound that he had borrowed and Jack answered the door in said robe. 

Jack had his stoic work face on, the grumpiness only enhanced by the fact that Shen’s visit was interrupting his time with you.

“Ha, you look like a Sith, Abbot,” Shen teased him, butterfly in one hand and a half drank Dunkin’ in the other. “Robe’d up and about to cut my hand off.” He took a loud sip of his coffee as Jack just glared at him. 

“Get out of here before I actually consider it.” He tugged the Butterfly from Shen’s grasp, about to slam the door in his face. 

“Oh c'mon Jack, that’s not very nice.” You ran up to the door and opened it further to reveal yourself. 

“Sorry John, he didn’t mean that.” 

“Yeah right.” He takes in your appearance beside Jack, wearing the same exact fuzzy robe. “Like the matchy matchy, very cute you two.” Shen pulls out his phone and snaps a picture before either of you could even process it. “That’s totally going in the group chat, dude,” he laughed. 

“Not making a good case for yourself here,” Jack muttered. Shen couldnt stop laughing, and at that you moved your hand off the door jamb and let Jack slam it shut. 

He turned to you then and let out a little chuckle at the whole ordeal. “He’s a piece of work.”

“Thought he was your favorite resident?”

“No, you're my favorite resident.” ___

Besides stretching to start the day on a good note, taking soothing baths, and tending to your garden you also do yoga sometimes to turn your mind off and tune into your body after a hectic shift. He’s still reluctant to try that one, and likes to give you your space to do the things you enjoy on your own sometimes. So he doesn't join you for that, but he loves watching you as you get ready to head to the studio. 

You always wear these skin tight, colorful matching workout sets that drive him crazy. He doesn’t mean to keep you from getting to class, but sometimes he just can’t help the temptation.

“Baby,” he draws it out in a long groan. He crossed the room to you, grabbing your hips and ghosting his hands up and down, reverently. You were trying to gather your keys and yoga mat to head out the door. “You’re killing me here with the powder blue.” The leggings hugged your ass just right. God, he was about to start drooling.

You try to squirm out of his hold to put your shoes on, but he won't budge. “Get a good look, Jack, because I gotta go. Gonna be late if I don't leave right now.” 

“Oh no, you're gonna be late already? Maybe you should just stay here with me,” he pouts suggestively. 

“Already paid for the class. Actually you did, your card’s on the account.” With your resident salary, Jack liked to treat you to things like a membership to a fancy yoga studio with free green smoothies. He loved ‘providing’ for you, even though you both knew you could be just fine by yourself. 

“Even better. I don't care about losing 30 bucks right now. Because you look way too sexy in those leggings to leave me here all alone.” He pecks your lips, then down your neck, sucking the spot where he knows will draw out a moan from you. You grasp your hand into his hair, getting lost in his efforts to entice you. 

“Let me peel these off of you,” he begs, running his fingers under the waistband of the leggings. His hands travel lower, kneading at your ass and pulling you tighter against him. “Just let me worship your beautiful body, sweetheart.”

How could you say no to that? Maybe you would miss your class, but this was a form of self care as good as any.

[majestyeverlasting]

Hello beautiful ☺️ can I request a Joel miller x reader where like the reader is on her period and gets all snappy with Joel and he just kinda takes it and then she gets all emotional about it later after he gets home from work and is just a big mess but he only cares about her wellbeing?? 😭

Love u btw <3

𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 | 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

pairing joel miller x female reader summary when it comes to grace, Joel’s got a well that never runs dry [fluff, 1.8k] a/n love u too anon ♡

.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・．

A slender band of gold sunlight graces Joel’s cheek as he stands across the counter. Even more slivers paint the kitchen in similar sleepy streaks. It’s a beautiful day, all things considered. The morning is still young with the promise of what could lie ahead. Yet all you can focus on are the words that have disturbed this beautiful little bubble in time. 

Appointment, oil change, fluid check. 

“I’ve already handled everything on the back end,” he says as he sets his coffee mug down. “All you gotta do is drop the truck off, and you’re good to—”

“Okay,” you say with more force than intended.

Joel remains quiet, and you take it as permission to voice your frustration further, “We could’ve gotten it serviced this past weekend when both of us were free. That would've made more sense.” 

His shoulders square as you direct a piercing, matter-of-fact glance his way. “They were completely booked,” he explains. 

“Of course they were,” you say. “And now it’s my problem.” 

Joel’s gaze flicks into his coffee, black with a dash of creamer. Only a couple of sips left. You’d already finished yours. 

“Made the appointment ‘cause you said you didn’t have anything to do this morning, honey.” His dark eyes are sincere as they meet yours, but you don’t offer any softness in return. 

You mutter something under your breath about your schedule not being the problem. 

Even with all the time in the world, you wouldn’t opt to spend an hour sitting in a service shop—breathing stale air, sinking into peeling leather seats, watching a revolving door of strangers. Especially when staying tucked away at home was a more promising alternative for a day like this, when your body seems to be conspiring against you.

Your cycle had started on the least convenient morning and shortened everything from your fuse to your patience to your desire to interact with other people. 

You watch him finish the remainder of his coffee and lick his lips afterward. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. 

With a frustrated huff, you slip off the island barstool and walk his mug to the sink. It provides an excuse not to look at him, more than anything. A dull, crampy ache has settled low in your stomach, but you feel his watchful gaze tracking you even more than the pain. He watches you rinse the colorful ceramic and move to place it in the dishwasher, tapping his fingers as he pieces together a new line of action. 

“We can try to reschedule,” he offers. “I’ll take off early and handle it sometime before we leave on Friday.” 

Come the end of the week, you’ll be heading to Boulder, Colorado, to see the girls. So much has changed since Ellie and Sarah moved away for college, but visiting them made the family unit feel whole again. 

Neither of you expected to miss them as much as you did, never mind in all the small ways you did. Once upon a time, you affectionately joked that it’d be quieter and cheaper with them not around. But you missed their shoes at the door, hearing music flowing from their bedrooms, cackling and teaming up against Joel with them on game nights. You even missed the little disagreements fueled by the notion that they were growing up and you simply wanted the best for them. 

“Can’t make the drive ‘til everything’s in good shape,” he says. 

The reminder is more of an encouragement than something he’s trying to hang over your head. Unfortunately, it strikes just the right nerve and leaves you looking for a hole to prod. 

“Then why would we cancel today’s appointment if it’s already guaranteed?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him. “No point in switching things around and making it worse.” 

Joel remains quiet as he gathers his words. “So you’ll—”

“It’s not like I have a choice,” you say as you sit back down. 

The need to take the truck in is no more his fault than an inevitable necessity, but a large part of your frustration feels good—justified. 

“You gonna let me finish any of my sentences?” He asks lightly, placing a hand on his hip. The fabric of his shirt stretches over his bicep. 

When you motion for him to finish, he walks to stand alongside you. The warmth of his proximity coaxes you to swivel the stool towards him even as you refuse to meet his gaze. You succeed until he places a thick hand on your thigh and delivers a gentle squeeze. It’s even worse for your resolve that his touch rests against your bare skin. Your sleep shorts rest too far up your leg to shield you from the calloused warmth of his palm. 

“You always have a choice.” He tilts his head to look into your eyes. “We can work something else out.” 

“I already said I’d handle it.” 

“Well, alright then,” he concedes as you stare down at his hand. 

A brief silence passes before he speaks up again, “Hey. Thanks for packing my lunch.”

You shake your head in dismissal. 

“Gonna think of you when I eat it today like always.” A small smile curls at his lips as he speaks. “Do I get my goodbye kiss, or has that privilege been revoked?” The tenderness of his thumb as it strokes your thigh yields a guilt that weaves through your ribcage like the bones constitute a sewing loom. 

When you don’t respond, Joel leans in to peck your forehead, his lips plush and warm.   

Two quick horn honks sound from outside. 

“I gotta run.” He withdraws his touch, letting his fingertips brush down your thigh until they fall away at the bend of your knee. “Thanks for getting the truck taken care of.”

He lingers for a moment before stepping back. “I’ll see you later this evening.” 

When Joel heads towards the front door, you don’t trail after him like you usually would. You watch his steady stride and broad shoulders as he crosses into the foyer. Before reaching for the knob, he pauses to look over his shoulder. 

“I love you.” 

He doesn’t leave until you murmur it back.

You watch the door for a few extra seconds after he’s gone.  

•••

When five o'clock rolls around, you find yourself curled on the couch with a book. Sunlight lights the pages. As beautiful and immersive as the prose is, all that lingers in your mind is this morning. How difficult you’d been with Joel, how he hadn’t taken your bait. Sometimes, you wondered if the well of his grace would ever run dry since all you seemed to do was draw from it. He should’ve stopped you one too many moons ago, but the thought never once crossed his mind. 

When you got to McBride’s Auto Shop earlier, your cramps had begun to subside. Waiting wasn’t nearly as bad as you’d built it up to be in your head, even with the grainy TV and the older woman chewing gum as she flipped through an outdated magazine. The fact you hadn’t kissed Joel goodbye was far worse. 

Soon, you hear Tommy pull up alongside the curb to drop Joel off. In seconds, you place the bookmark between the pages and toss the book onto the coffee table. 

When Joel saunters through the front door, you’re there to wrap your arms around his neck. Your earnestness is reminiscent of when the girls were little and ambushed him when he got home from work, no matter how tired he was or how many bags he happened to be holding. 

A surprised chuckle rumbles out of him as he clumsily kicks the door shut behind himself. You relish the sound of his laughter as if somebody tuned the sound just for you. Joel wraps his arms around your waist as best he can with his backpack still on his shoulders and lunchbox in his grip. 

You nuzzle your nose into his shirt gently, almost felinely. He smells like fresh air, underscored by a muskier, fragranced scent.

“Honey,” he coaxes, attempting to pull away. “Lemme put my stuff down.” 

You ease up long enough for him to pace further inside and set his bags on the floor. Then, your arms secure right back around him like they never left. The attention feels as lovely as it always does coming from you. Joel’s smile eventually settles into something small as he rubs your back in soothing passes. His large frame nearly swallows you, but he’s never come close to crushing you. 

“It’s good to see you too,” he finally says. 

“I’m sorry,” you murmur into him, words almost too muffled to comprehend. “I was mean to you this morning and shouldn’t have been.” 

Joel has to laugh again. Not at you, but because he’d let himself believe this particularly warm welcome was completely uninspired. 

“I didn’t mean to make it such a big deal,” you say. “It’s that time of the month, and I took it out on you.” 

“Is that what it was?” he asks lightly, kissing your head. 

When he pulls away to get a better look at you, the warmth in his gaze strikes deeper than you expect. Either that or your hormones have begun to tug on your heart more insistently than they should. Before you can look away, tears well in your eyes, and Joel feels a slight pang of guilt as you try to blink them back. 

His thumb catches the one that slips down your cheek. “No harm done,” he assures.  

You nod as you lean into his touch. It still amazes you how one person can be so kind and attuned. 

“Gonna take a lot more than a bad mood to get rid of me,” he jokes, smiling when a low chuckle escapes you. 

“I’ll never wanna get rid of you.” 

“Give it a few more years,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours. 

You swat his chest gently. 

A future without Joel sounds so far off that it comes across as no more than a joke. It’s so unforeseeable that you can’t imagine it teetering into reality. Maybe it was bold of you to feel that way—for both of you to feel that way, especially when there’s no road map detailing the days of your lives to come. 

All you know is that you’re cultivating your love for one another moment by moment, second by second. Surely, that was enough to endure whatever storms sprung up along the way. 

Joel squeezes you tighter as if he’s somehow thinking the same thing. 

You’re grateful for his grace, the trip to Boulder you’ll share, and everything to come with him. 

“How about carryout from Lorenzo’s?” he asks. 

That beats leftovers any day.

You finally capture his lips in a sweet kiss. 

-

Thank you so much for reading! All likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated. I promise I see them all. 

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