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pintobug · 21 hours ago

Text

maintenance

chapter 8: double feature

rating: 18+ MDNI

masterlist

summary: you see jesse again at the bar with ellie & joel surprises you!

word count: 13.3k

tags: light conflict between friends, fingering, praise kink!!, semi public fingering (lol), p in v sex (FINALLYYYY YESSS), age gap! joel is 46 reader is 23, idfk let me know if i missed any lol

a/n: im so HAAAAPPYYY to finally post this monster. 13.3k words?? i got stuck on it so many times so it is later than i expected but i am happy with it. im happy for them. i love when good things happen to the characters i create <33 hopefully it lasts! 😬 i want these two to be happy. anyways. as always, please let me know any and all feedback. i love to hear it. good or constructive or bad. i want it all <3

p.s. i had the idea for this title of this chapter when i first started writing it and the rocky horror soundtrack has been stuck in my head for the past week. fun fact. a lot of the titles are coming from songs that i listen to while writing. chapter 7 i think was from a song by the fray, chapter 5 was a harry styles song. and theres also a few times i think in chapter 6 from a song by alvvays. and joe is humming a marty robbins song in this chapter lol. if you guys are every interested in my fucked up selection of songs while writing this, let me know!

Half asleep, you turn over and what was once the warm, solid sleeping body of Joel is now an empty space. It startles you. This isn’t the first time you woke up to him missing but it doesn’t feel any better. You immediately start to scramble around the bed for your phone and find it tangled up in the comforter. Your eyes aren’t even fully open yet when you pull up his contact and press ‘Call’.

“Where are you?” You blurt out the second the ringing line pauses, and you hear the soft rumble of his truck on the other line.

He chuckles lowly before responding.

“M’sorry, darlin’. I left you a note.”

“A note? What note?” Your voice is hoarse and tickles the back of your throat.

“On the bedside.”

You rub the sleep from your eyes and whip your head around. Sure enough there is a little sticky note sat there with something scratched into it. You lean over with a grunt and scratch it up to read:

‘Had to take a job. Call you when I’m done. :)’

The little smiley faces eyes were so damn crooked, but it made your heart warm.

“Fuck. Sorry, Joel.” You whisper into the line.

“No reason t’be sorry, darlin’.” He says smoothly.

“Wait- Did Ellie catch you?” Immediately all your senses are at an all time high as you sit on the edge of your mattress.

“I’m stealthier than I look. I promise.” He chuckles into the phone. “No, she didn’t see me.” You could practically hear the smile on his lips.

You close your eyes and exhale slowly.

“Okay..” You trail off.

The both of you are silent over the staticky line. Just the sound of his truck driving on the road for a moment.

“What are you doing today?” Joel is the one to break the silence.

“Nothing. Frank cut me from my shift today. I guess as a thanks for last night.”

Joel hums in acknowledgement even if he still doesn’t know the specifics of what happened yet.

“Do you need me to take you to your car this morning? Drove past it on my way to the job and it’s still standing.”

A small smile curls the corner of your mouth while you search through your drawers to put on clothes for the day. It feels nice, Joel’s voice filling your room while doing something so mundane. It’s calm.

“No, I don’t need my car at all this morning.”

“Alright. Can I pick you up ‘round four tonight? I’ll take you to it then. How’s that sound, sweetheart?” The way the multitude of sweet names roll off his tongue makes your stomach flutter.

“That sounds just fine to me.” You bite back a too wide smile that he can’t even see.

You could easily walk to get your car, Joel knows that. But him offering to take you to it makes you want to let him.

“Alright.” Joel muses, satisfactory.

“Alright.” You repeat his words in a light tone.

“You have a good day, baby.”

“You too, Joel.”

You hang up and cover your face with your hands and make a small squealing noise out of excitement. Sure, you were upset to wake up and not see Joel. But the promise of seeing him later makes up for it. You slip on a loose t-shirt and biker shorts and make your way downstairs. In the midst of all your giddiness you completely forgot about Ellie. You do your best to not look so surprised when you see her sipping coffee from a mug in the kitchen.

“Hey.” She calls out as you make your way past the threshold.

“Good morning.” You say while showing her a soft smile.

“You okay?” She raises an eyebrow smile taking another long sip.

You think for a moment before answering.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” You nod your head while reaching into a cabinet for your own mug.

“The fuck happened last night? You made me all nervous by not answering.”

You shoot her a sympathetic look.

“I know, I know.” You mumble while pouring some coffee into your mug.

You start to fill her in on last night, minus Joel's appearance, while making your coffee.

“I was just about to leave, walked out into the dining room and all of a sudden- it’s fuckin’ packed.” You tell her while stirring sugar into your mug.

“And I mean fuckin’ packed.” You put emphasis on your words while Ellie listens intently.

“Aw, shit.” She mutters as you go on.

“I haven’t seen it like that, ever. People were asking for shit left and right. The damn computer service went down. It was an utter shit show.” You tell her while focused on pouring cream into your coffee.

You pause to take a long sip, Ellie does as well.

“And get this, to top it all off- I wasn’t even two blocks away when-” Your mind caught up with your words and you paused.

“When…?” Ellie gestures with her hands for you to finish.

“I got a flat tire.” You say flatly.

“Damn. You can’t catch a break. Is it fixed?” She asks.

You swallow thickly and nod your head, dancing around the fact that Joel, your maintenance man, came to rescue you from your flat tire and your panic attack.

“It’s fixed.”

“You can fix a flat tire now?” Ellie questions.

Fuck. Stop being so shady about it, just come out and say it, dammit. It’s right on the tip of your tongue.

“No- called a company to come out.” You lie.

Again.

It doesn’t feel good. The hot coffee you're pushing down your throat tastes sour after that. You set the unfinished coffee on the counter.

“Nice. I didn’t see it outside this morning, I figured you left real early. Thought I heard you coming down the steps.” Ellie says simply while walking to the sink and rinsing out her mug.

Stealthier than he looks, right? Wrong.

You blow raspberries while your mind races for excuses.

“Well.. It was really late by the time the company came out. Didn’t feel safe while driving.” You speak a little too quickly but Ellie doesn’t ever turn around to look at you, she just hums and nods her head while at the sink.

“And- I don’t know what you heard this morning.” You tack on at the end.

Ellie shrugs her shoulders.

“Don’t know I was half asleep.” She’s so casual through this conversation and you envy it.

You swallow thickly and nod your head slowly.

“What’re you doing today?” You take the moment of silence to change the subject.

Ellie turns around and leans against the counter to look at you.

“Going back to the bar in a little bit.” Her eyes darted around a bit before looking at you.

You know why. The bar. Owen. The other night you picked her up from the airport and she confronted you with that. You quickly convince yourself that pretending not to remember would be the best situation.

“Mm, nice.” You hum, staring into your coffee mug.

“Jesse’s working, too. Maybe you’ll swing by?” It sounds like a peace offering that you didn’t know you needed.

“Maybe-“ Joel’s voice in your head reminds you that he’ll pick you up at four.

Think of an excuse. Think. Think. Think.

“For lunch. A late lunch.” You say while nodding your head mostly for yourself.

“Lunch?” Ellie questions with a raised brow.

“Lunch.” You amend with a shrug.

“Right.” Ellie says before pushing off of the counter and slowly trudging out of the kitchen.

Her comment made your heart twinge a little. Dismissive or maybe unbelievable. Unbelievable would be true in this case. You sulk against the counter top, wrapping your arms around yourself for some sort of comfort. You go back and forth. Should you just come out and say it? How many times have you said that to yourself in the past few weeks? It’s starting to get old. If you tell Ellie, do you have to tell your father and if you tell one and not the other is that making the situation worse? What about Joel? Joel deserves to know. You groan and close your eyes tightly. You can’t get stuck in this loop all day.

Today will be good. It has to be. You’ll see Ellie and Jesse at the bar for late lunch and then you’ll get to see Joel for a little bit to pick up your car.

Ellie left for the bar a few hours ago and you figured now was a decent time for your visit. You dress yourself in a worn t-shirt and a pair of shorts.

Your walk there was pleasant, the sun was warm and the breeze made it bearable. You’re greeted with the smell of stale beer and fried food, it almost makes you moan. You look over behind the bar- no Ellie.

Just Jesse.

Standing back there, shining a glass with a stupid look on his face. You groan quietly and make your way over to him. You haven’t seen him since that night with Owen. Then he tattled on you to Ellie and you didn’t really want to see him right after that to be honest. You plop down on a bar stool and spin side to side while staring at him. He almost looks amused. Your eyes narrow.

“Where’s Ellie?” You ask sharply.

“Tapping kegs downstairs. Stuck with me for a little.” He says simply.

You scoff at him and fold your arms over your chest.

“You’re an ass.” You mumble under your breath.

“Haven’t seen you in a little while. Thought you died.” Jesse muses while setting the glass down, ignoring your previous comment.

“Wish I did.” You deadpan.

“Oh, you’re being dramatic for a change?” He feigns shock. “What else is new?”

“Why don’t you tell me? You’ve been real chatty lately.” You sneer at him and then suck at your teeth.

He chuckles and shakes his head while leaning into the bar.

“Ahh, so that’s what we’re doing, hm?” He hums.

You roll your eyes at him before leaning in over the bar and speaking in a tight, hushed tone.

“You ran and fuckin’ tattled on me to Ellie.”

“She asked how the night went!” He says defensively.

“So you spilled your guts?” You shove yourself off the bar and lean into the back of the stool again, pushing air from your lungs with force.

“I didn’t think it was a big deal.” He says honestly.

“Clearly you didn’t think at all.”

“Oh god-“ He groans and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re being dramatic. Ellie doesn’t really give a fuck like that. She was just concerned for you.” He says while lifting his head to look at you. “Friends talk about shit like that, you know?” His tone is a little sharper at the end.

You don’t respond and let the silence hang for a bit. The both of you continue to give side glances to each other.

“Hey, barmaid- let me get a grilled cheese, yeah?” You speak up, slapping a hand down onto the bar top.

He looks at you with a- ‘You gotta be fucking joking’ kind of expression. And you love it. You eat it up. As much as he annoyed you for running to Ellie you know it wasn’t in malice. But you don’t want to let him off too easily.

“And I want a pickle. I don’t care if it doesn’t come with it.” You quickly tack that on at the end, already knowing what his retort would be.

Jesse stands at attention and mocks a salute.

“Yes, ma’am.” He holds it for a second before dropping it and turning towards the kitchen while grumbling under his breath.

You mock his words quietly to yourself. A familiar laugh from the stairwell catches your attention. Loud, bubbly and echoing in the mostly empty bar. Ellie turns the corner and slips behind the bar to wash her hands.

“Hey! I didn’t know what time late lunch was,” She chuckles at her comment, wearing an expression that looks a little surprised to see you. “Glad you came by though, I think Jesse was getting bored with hearing details of the trip.”

You smile and sit forward in your chair, resting your elbows on the bar.

“He deserves the boredom. And more.” You smile sweetly.

Ellie sucks her teeth and laughs. “Spicy. Did you see him yet?”

Jesse exits the kitchen just in time to hear Ellie and holds his hands up in surrender.

“Did she see me? Yeah, she came in swingin’.” He finds his spot just next to Ellie behind the bar.

Ellie pretends to wince. “You two still going on about Owen-“

“God- no. Please. I’m tired of talking about him.” You cut her off with a whine while hanging your head between your shoulders.

The two of them chuckle at you and agree to drop it.

“Alright, then. No sulking at the bar.” Ellie taps her hand against the top a few times.

You sit up straight and smile warmly while watching her sort through a few different bottles, the soft clanking of glass against glass filling the room.

“Wanna try this?” She holds out a bottle filled with dark liquor.

You make a face immediately and Jesse laughs.

“Don’t make her try that shit.” He snatches the bottle out of Ellie’s hands. “Practically fuckin’ gasoline. Don’t need her puking up her grilled cheese on the bar.”

The soft dinging of a bell is muffled by the swinging kitchen doors.

“Speaking of-“ Jesse places the bottle back down and heads into the kitchen.

Ellie smiles and starts to unload the dishwasher behind the bar while talking with you.

“Grilled cheese, huh? Not even a menu item.” She shakes her head.

You shrug your shoulders, smiling wider as Jesse returns with your sandwich.

“And a pickle? What the fuck.” Ellie gestures to the basket as Jesse sets it on the bar.

He shrugs his shoulders.

“Had to pull some strings.” He says smoothly.

You enjoy your sandwich while going back and forth with Jesse and Ellie about anything. Ellie can’t stop bringing up her trip with Dina. You can’t get enough of the details, but Jesse? He looks like his eyes might fall out of his head if he rolls them again. Slowly but surely the bar starts to fill up as time goes by, laborers start filing in and filling the bar with dull chatter. Your two friends have less and less time to hang around chatting with you so you take advantage of it to slip out without question. It’s nearing 3 o’clock and you’d like a little time to get ready to see Joel.

“I’m gonna head out before it gets too busy in here.” You speak up when Ellie walks back over to you.

She nods while grabbing a beer glass and filling it from the tap behind the bar.

“What’re you gonna get up to?” She asks over her shoulder without taking her eyes off the glass.

“Um.. Not much,” You can’t come up with a lie quick enough and she turns her head to finally look at you confused. “Probbaly go visit my dad.” You blurt out once you see her expression.

Her face softens and she smiles while nodding her head. “Tell him I say hi.”

You nod quickly and leave cash on the bar to cover your bill and then some.

“That’s for you. Not Jesse.” You slide it over the bar towards her and she chuckles.

“Alright, I’ll see you at home.” She shakes her head and waves you off.

You push yourself off the barstool and wave back before turning to exit the bar.

You got home with enough time to shower, fix up your hair and put on a better outfit. You settled with a decent cami, a pair of shorts and a dark zip up hoodie. Not exactly suggestive but enough skin is exposed for your liking.

You have to admit it is a little ridiculous that you’re having him do this. Pick you up to go get your car that really isn’t that far away? Any excuse to see him, honestly. You hope he comes back to your house before Ellie gets home but you wouldn’t think twice about sneaking him in again. It was fun.

You’re slipping your sneakers on when you hear those three knocks at the door. He can’t really be at the door right now, can he? You expected a text or a call to let you know he’s here. You quickly walk to the door and open it.

“Hey there, darlin’.” His sweet drawl makes your insides turn to mush.

You gawk there in awe for a moment while he stands there before you, truck idling just behind him. A dark blue flannel stretches over his broad shoulders, the first two buttons are left undone to show off the thin white t-shirt he has on underneath. He’s still got his jeans on, but they don’t look like the ones ridden with paint and glue and everything else under the sun. They’re nice and clean, the same goes for his boots. You lift your head to look at him and- holy shit. Did he shower for this? His hair is still a little damp and it looks like it was pushed back but this Texas humidity keeps it looking unruly in the best way. He doesn’t look like he just finished up a day's worth of work.

“Hi Joel.” You spit out after a few seconds go by.

He chuckles while taking a step closer and holding out his hand for you to take.

“Ready?” He asks.

You furrow your eyebrows but take his hand in yours.

“…To go get my car? Yeah. I’m ready.” You say, now suspicious of him.

“What’re ya lookin’ at me like that for?” He says while leading you to his truck, that lopsided smile plastered on his lips.

“Don’t know just yet.” You side eye him when he holds the door open for you and you climb into the passenger.

He sucks his teeth while shaking his head. Joel shuts your door and rounds the hood to get into the driver's seat. He slowly pulls the truck out of the spot and heads towards the car you abandoned last night. Music spills out of Joel’s radio, some older western music you haven’t heard before. It’s very on brand for Joel, though. You’d be surprised if he didn’t have it all burned into a tape. Joel stops at the red light and you can see your car on the street.

“Well, it’s still there.” You say and look over to Joel who still has a sweet smile on his face.

“‘Course it is.” He says.

The light turns green and he makes the turn but coasts swiftly past your car.

“Joel-“ You turn around in your seat to look at your car now disappearing behind you. “That was my car.”

Joel looks over his shoulder for a moment before directing his attention back to the road.

“Hmm, weird ain’t it?” He hums in amusement and continues to drive.

You turn in your seat and look back at the car and back to him.

“Joel, what’re you doing?” You ask again in confusion.

He shrugs his shoulders, tossing one of his hands palm up.

“Dunno. Just letting the wind take us.. I guess.” He says nonchalantly.

You furrow your eyebrows and look at him in pure confusion while you stutter on your words. Joel chuckles and places his hand on your knee, giving it a soft squeeze.

“Calm down. Y’look like ya saw a ghost.” He flashes a wide smile at you. “Relax. Just listen to the music, sweetheart.”

You pinch your face up at him before forcing air from your lungs and relaxing into the seat. What the fuck is going on? Your mind is racing. Where is he taking you? You know the area so you’re really not too concerned but.. What the fuck? That’s all that's going through your mind.

Joel removes his hand from your knee to turn up the knob on the radio. The cabin floods with the plucking guitar and Joel’s humming. You swear you hear him muttering the words of the song.

“I was in love, but in vain, I could tell.

One night, a wild young cowboy came in, wild as the West Texas wind,

Dashing and daring, a drink he was sharing

With wicked Feleena, the girl that I love.”

His voice never wavered but it also never carried. It was strong and solid but soft in volume compared to the radio. It was comforting and adorable, you thought. It makes him human. Joel really knows the words to songs like this? And is singing them while sitting next to you? He surprises you every day.

A few songs go by and you’re starting to get impatient.

“Where are we going?”

“Told you already.” He says.

“You only said ‘Just lettin’ the wind take us’” You emphasize your southern drawl and lower your voice to mock him the best you can.

This earns a hearty chuckle from Joel.

“I don’t sound nothin’ like that.” He retorts.

“Something like that,” You smile. “Can I get a hint?”

He pretends to ponder it for. second. “Nope.”

You whine quietly. “Please? Just one?”

He shakes his head. “Not a single one.”

You lean back into the passenger seat and cross your arms over your chest while you think.

“We have to be going somewhere. You got all dressed up.” You point out while leaning your head back on the headrest.

“Dressed up?” He chuckles and looks down at his clothes. “S’just what I wear.”

“But you took a shower before.”

“I did take a shower after workin’ all day, you’re right.” He sucks at his teeth.

“Is it something cool?” You turn your torso towards him.

He takes a moment to give you a look for a few seconds.

“Quit it.” He says while tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

“I just wanna know-“

“In due time, darlin’. In due time.” He interrupts your pleas and you let out an exaggerated groan.

He goes back to humming the songs pumping through his radio and you decide to peer out the window to try and get a guess where he’s taking you. You look over to him and open your mouth to say something at least three times and all he does is ‘Shhh’ quietly and wave you off. You exhale deeply and become complacent in the silence. It’s not bad, at all. But him being so secretive is making you beyond impatient.

Ten minutes go by.

Fifteen minutes.

Twenty minutes go by of Joel’s humming and his hand on your knee before you sit up straight.

“I feel like I’m gonna go crazy, Joel-“

“We’re here.” He says while slowing the truck down to turn down an unpaved road.

You whip your head around to look out the windows. Outside is filled with trees and greenery lining the road.

“Where is here?” You ask while twisting in your seat to look out the opposite window.

“Here.” He says and pulls his hand from your knee to point at a large marquee.

Your jaw drops as you lean forward in your seat.

“Oh- no fucking way.” You spit out.

Mustang Ridge Drive-In Theater Presents:

Double Feature

The Evil Dead (1981)

The Evil Dead || (1987)

Joel pulls farther into the unpaved road to the break in the trees and there it is-

A large clearing in the trees with a huge white screen stretched between poles. There has to be tens if not hundreds of feet of string lights laced between the towering trees that illuminate the patrons below in a soft orangey light. Cars of all kinds lined up in perfect rows. The smell- oh my god, the smell. A small snack shack tucked into the side wafting buttery popcorn into the air, with tons and tons of colorful packages of different candies stacked high.

Joel rolled all the windows down as he pulled closer to the booth. The soft chatter of the other movie goers filled the cabin, the smell stronger than before. You smile widely back at Joel who's already watching you.

“You’re serious?” You ask while leaning over the center console.

“As a heart attack, darlin’.” He smiles while leaning in to press a soft peck to your lips.

“You’re sneaky.” You giggle against his lips.

“Told you I’m stealthier than I look.” He smirks while turning to the booth attendant to start chatting.

That leaves you speechless.

Stealthier than he looks.

You thought he was full of shit earlier but he might actually be right. You couldn’t see this happening if it bit you on the ass.

Joel slowly rolled away from the booth and turned into one of the last rows and backed into an open spot with the cabin of the truck facing the trees. You looked over your shoulder to the bed of Joel’s truck.

Clean.

No tools.

No dirty tarps and buckets filled with god knows what. It’s clean with two large duffle bags in it.

He cleaned the bed of his damn truck for you?

“Joel- oh my god.” Is all you could say.

“Y’alright?” He asks while turning the car off.

“Am I alright?” You scoff a laugh at his ridiculous question.

He chuckles while getting out of the car and rounding the front to open your door. He smiles while you scramble to unbuckle your belt and hop out. You bounce on the balls of your feet in excitement and trail behind him as he walks to the tailgate of his truck. He lowers it and picks you up just like he did last night and sets you on the edge.

“You stay here.” He tells you while patting the tops of your thighs.

You nod your head and swing your feet while they dangle. Joel swiftly hauls himself into the bed of the truck and seconds later you hear rustling behind you. It takes all the every ounce of strength you’ve got to not turn around but you wait, patiently and take in the scenery in front of you. The sun is sitting lower in the sky but it hasn’t started to turn yet. The blazing heat is no longer there, it’s been replaced by a chilly wind and the trees help shade from whatever is left of the sunlight.

Joel calls your name from behind you and it pulls you out of your day dream. You whip your head back and find him standing right behind you. You crane your neck to look at him and grab his outstretched hand. He secures his larger hand around yours and helps to pull you up. Joel steadies you as you stand with a hand on your hip.

“Not much, but I hope s’alright for ya.” He says quietly at your side.

He’s got a big comforter laid out on the bed of the truck, a handful of pillows stacked along the back with a few smaller blankets rolled up on either side of the bed walls. A back pack lays to one side, candies and bags of snacks spilling out of it from being so stuffed. Beside the pack is a small, black portable radio. Your heart swells and your stomach flips.

“You did all this for me?” You ask but your eyes don’t leave the little set up he made for the two of you.

“‘Course it is.” He says.

You look over at him. He looks timid, or bashful? Like that rough around the edges attitude he’s usually got going on has melted away into a boyish hue. A shy smile hides under his beard. It makes your chest tight.

“Well c’mon n’ sit with me. Should be starting soon.” He completely steers the conversation away from him and guides you towards the pile of pillows. He lets you settle down first before finding his spot next to you and pulling the snack bag into his lap. He starts to pull them out one by one.

He’s got red vines, MNM’s, a flask, gummy bears, skittles, a chocolate bar, another chocolate bar,-

You watch in awe and keep thinking the next thing he pulls out has to be the last.

Sour gummy worms, a water bottle, another water bottle, a soda can, hard candy and another can of soda.

“Don’t think you ever told me what your favorite..Anything is. So I got everythin’.” He says while gesturing to the pile of candy and drinks.

You blink while slowly taking it all in.

“This is.. Wow.” You say while taking a deep breath.

“Wow?”

“Wow.” You repeat.

“These are my favorites.” You say quietly while picking up the sour gummy worms.

Joel plucks them from your hands and opens the bag before handing it back to you. You’re a bit surprised but you thank him and lean into his side. He lifts his arm to wrap around your shoulders, his hand gently clamping around your upper forearm like it belonged there. It felt so right. You weren’t concerned about anyone seeing you and it didn’t seem like Joel was, either. The pair of you tucked into one of the very last rows, the walls of his truck bed shielding you from any curious eyes.

The loud speaker on the snack shack crackles to let everyone know which station to tune the radio to and Joel grabs the portable one and turns the knob to the right channel. He sets it on the side of the truck and sighs softly while pulling you closer.

“I didn’t think you’d be the kind to like zombie movies.” You whispered while resting your chin on his shoulder and looking up at him.

“M’not.” He chuckles and eyes you.

“Why’d you pick this then?”

“Wanted to take you out. You’ve got the first one on DVD in your entertainment center.”

“What? How do you know that?” You sit up from him and look at him, bewildered.

He looked down at you with a soft smile.

“The night of the storm when I came over, you were watching movies-“

You nod your head while listening, memories of the stormy night start to flood your mind.

“Did you watch it? It was sitting on the top of it.”

You don’t respond right away, just look at him in disbelief.

“I was going to. How did you notice that?” You ask.

“I put it back into the entertainment center. When I put away the candles.”

You almost forgot about that. When you came down all the candles were blown out and on the coffee table. God, how could you forget about that?

“Why’d you do that?” You ask, since you never got the chance to before.

“You fell asleep. I was ‘bout to leave. Didn’t want to leave you with a buncha clean up after you let me come in. Saw a few movies sittin’ there n’ I checked ‘em out. When I was done I slipped ‘em back on the shelf.” He speaks calmly.

So, so calmly. It stirs something in your stomach. He’s talking so casually about doing something so domestic for you, it almost makes your eyes cross.

“You're something special, you know that?” You say while leaning into him again.

He smiles sweetly but ignores your comment with a squeeze to your shoulder.

“Movies startin’, sweetheart. Pay attention.” He nudges you and pulls you even closer.

The beginning credits roll and surely the movie starts. You smile to yourself and pop a sour gummy into your mouth here and there. Joel would unscrew the cap to a water bottle and offer it to you throughout the movie. He’d slouch into the pillows and pull you with him, your head nuzzled comfortable into his chest. You’re trying your hardest to pay attention to the movie but the steady thud in Joel’s chest is distracting. The way your head rises and falls slowly with his concentrated breaths is distracting. His hand rubbing along your arm and lingering light kisses to the top of your head, is distracting.

You find your eyes straying from the large screen and focusing on Joel. Making it as inconspicuous as possible. You look at his boots, the way the denim of his jeans stretches over his wide lap and the glimmer of his belt buckle reflecting light from the film. You notice how soft his belly looks and absent mindedly slip your arms across his midsection, tugging yourself into him. Joel hums pleasantly and looks down to you, his hand ceasing the rubs on your arm to brush over your hair a few times.

“Gettin’ comfortable?” He whispers and you nod against him.

He smooths your hair a few times slowly before his hand finds a perch at your hip. Your zip up has fallen behind you and your cami has scrunched closer to your waist. Joel’s hand is warm on your skin. So warm it reminds you how chilly it is now that the sun has set.

“Where’d you stick those blankets?” You whispered while craning your neck to see him.

He looked down to acknowledge you but reached beside him without a word and presented the rolled up flannel material. He unrolled it and splayed it across both of your lower bodies and returned his hand to your hip, under the blanket to trace small circles there

The two of you barely move once the first film ends. The hum of the summer bugs now fills the empty air. The loud speaker boots up again to announce a fifteen minute intermission before the second film starts. You sit slowly from your comfortable but squished up position against Joel and stretch your arms out. He watches you with a smile that hasn’t seemed to have left his lips once this evening.

“Thought you might’ve fallen asleep.” He muses.

You laugh breathily and shake your head.

“No, but I probably could’ve.” You tell him.

He chuckles before looking around at the other cars, some people exiting and chatting softly.

“You fill up on them sour things? Or you think you got room for somethin’ good?” He gravels.

You purse your lips in thought, leaning back and placing a hand on your belly. You definitely ate more sour gummy worms than you should’ve- but maybe you could snack on some real food.

“Hmm. What’re you thinking?” You ask while bringing yourself to your knees and shuffling over to him.

Joel wraps an arm around your thighs, just under the curve of your rear and pulls you into him with a low hum. You laugh and place your hands on his shoulders to prevent yourself from fully toppling over him.

Joel presses a kiss to your shoulder, exposed from your draped zip up.

“Was thinkin’-“ He pressed another kiss to the base of your neck.

“We could go over to that shack over there-“ Another kiss to your throat.

“N’ I’ll get you whatever your lil’ head could think of.” A kiss to your jaw.

“Now, how's that sound, sweetheart?” He pulls back just enough to get a good look at your face.

Your face. It was burning. The way he grabbed you and kissed you all over in front of all of these people. Granted they weren’t all looking at you, odds are none of them were, but his public display of affection towards you made your stomach tighten in the best way. You swallow thickly and nod your head.

“Sounds good, Joel.” You smile lazily.

“Alright, pretty girl. Let's go.” He gives your rear a playful smack, as if to signal you to get a move on.

You let out a noise of surprise and Joel chuckles at your reaction, already making his way to the tailgate and slipping off with a quiet grunt. He brushes his hands off on his thighs and holds a hand out to you.

“You comin’ or what?” He says while running a hand through his hair.

The playful glint in his eyes warms your heart. You scramble after him while laughing and joining your hand with his to jump off of the tailgate. He doesn’t let go of your hand once you’re on the ground with him, just gives it a squeeze and leads you towards the snack shack. The two of you wait in line, illuminated by the shitty neon lights that flicker and buzz louder than the cicadas in the trees.

Joel has been sneaking glances at you all night. You haven’t caught him yet, he thinks. He can see out of the corner of his eye that you’re sucked into reading the menu above the shack. He turns his head and allows himself the time to take you in. Joel Miller is not the poetic type. Not the mushy words or flowers at every turn type. But something about seeing you in this too-bright neon signage lighting knocks the wind from his lungs and makes him want to be the poetic type. It makes him want to be the mushy words and flowers at every turn. To him, you look like something he isn’t allowed to touch. Most would think he’s too old to get so tied up by a girl reading the snack shack menu but you look so gentle in this lighting. Your mouth is softer, and your eyes are more gentle. You look like you aren’t carrying everything you were last night. Like just for a moment he was able to lift it up and give you a break. He notices all of you. The curve of your cheek and the way the string lights twinkle in your eyes. The slope of your neck and how your lashes catch the light.

You make him ache. It isn’t just about wanting you because- Fuck, does he want you. It’s how you make him feel seen. Like he can be softer, too. He likes being out and about with you, staring at you like this. Protective, hungry and quietly in awe.

You pull your attention away from the menu to look at him and to your surprise he’s already watching you.

And he still doesn’t look away.

Joel ends up ordering two different kinds of tacos because-

“Well, I want one of those n’ one of these.” He tells you while settling down into the bed of the truck again, beside you. “We can trade one each. Best’f both worlds, hm?”

He hands you the container and all you can do is laugh at him while popping it open.

“Alright, take your pick.” You hold the box out to him.

He smiles widely while taking one and placing one of his into your box.

“There ya go.”

The two of you eat in silence. That's how good these tacos are.

“Holy shit- these are amazing.” You say through a bite while covering your mouth with your fist.

Joel hums in amusement while nodding his head.

“Knew you’d like ‘em.” He says after swallowing.

He packs the boxes away when you two finish, just in time for the second movie to start, beginning credits are rolling on the screen as the two of you get comfy again. Joel tunes the radio in for the second time and sets it to the side before handing you a water bottle. You take it graciously and take a sip. Joel pushes himself against the cabin of the truck, sitting up against it. You take the opportunity to swing both of your legs over his lap and lean into his side. He wraps his broad palm around your calf and rubs small circles with his thumb then slips it up to your knee and back down your ankle. Repeat.

The film drones in but neither of you are watching anymore. You’re so close to him, warm and smelling sweet. Every time you shift it pulls something deep in his gut. He’s trying to be good, trying to play it safe, but then his fingers find the hem of your shorts and you lean closer into his chest like you need him. He can feel your breath warm his chest through his shirt.

“Y’alright?” He whispers.

You nod and look up. “Mhm. You?”

He meets your eyes and lets them linger.

“Yeah.”

Joel’s doing that thing again. Looking at you like his thoughts are racing and he’s holding back. You want him to stop holding back. You feel his hand tightening around your thigh, the tips of his fingers grazing just under the hem of your shorts. He leans in. It’s slow and intentional. You watch his eyes drop to your lips and that's all it takes.

Fuck the movie.

You lean into him and kiss him gently, testing. It builds quickly. Parted lips against his, tongue rolling past his lips to twist into his. One of his hands cups your cheek while the other palms the flesh at your hip, slipping back to rub over the curve of your ass and stopping at the side of your thigh. He’s not rushing, just exploring slowly. You let out a soft noise into his mouth that causes him to groan.

Joel pulls back to break the kiss just long enough to whisper. “You want me to stop?"

“No- No, Joel. Please.” You say breathlessly.

The pair of you shift, frantic and hungry. His fingers dig into your hip but you ignore it. The movie is still playing in the background now half forgotten. Joel’s touches grow more possessive, less hesitant. He pulls from the kiss and pushes your head to the side and connects his lips to the soft skin just under your jaw. He leaves slow, wet, open mouthed kisses there while the coarse hairs of his beard leave a tight burn.

“I been thinkin’ ‘bout you all week, sweetheart.” He whispers against your skin.

His words flip your stomach over and over again. You’d be lying if you said anything different. You’ve dreamt of him daily and nightly. His rough touches and soft kisses, how warm his breath felt fanning between your thighs. It seems so long ago. He promised to give you what you wanted so, so long ago and between sneaking around and stress from work weighing on you, the both of you haven’t had the opportunity.

“Couldn’t wait to get my hands on you. Y’looked so good when I picked you up.” He mumbles with lips brushing yours.

He connects his lips back to yours feverishly while pulling you closer with his hand at the back of your head. You place your palm at the base of his neck, fingertips pressing gently into his warm skin.

Joel slides his hand between your knees and you reposition yourself to spread your legs. You feel his lips tug into a faint smile. He moved with you, laying you on your back while slipping his bicep under your head, bending his elbow to grip your jaw and keep your head turned towards him to prevent breaking the kiss. Joel is laid on his side, his chest pressed into the side of your ribcage with his hand that isn’t gripping your jaw splayed under the blanket over your lower stomach, finger tips brushing against the soft skin of your belly. You rolled your hips up into his hand and he pressed into your belly to pin your movements.

“Poor thing. Kept you waiting a long time, hm?” He pulled back from the kiss to look down at you.

You nodded your head frantically, the heat piling up quickly in your lower stomach. Embarrassment flooded your cheeks while he pointed out just how eager you were. Joel slipped the tips of his fingers past the waistband of your shorts and it knocked the wind clear from your lungs. You turned and buried your head into his chest that you felt vibrate with a chuckle.

“Barely even touched you.” He states.

You grip the fabric of his shirt where your hand sits at his collar and pull on it while whining quietly.

“Touch me, Joel.” You whisper into his broad chest while your free hand wraps around his forearms and pushes his hand a bit lower, his fingers brushing the hem of your panties.

The noise he makes turns your stomach. It’s raw and rugged and filthy. It matches the way he kisses you after you say that. Hot, open mouths with his angles down into yours. His hands push into your pants further, cupping your covered sex snugly. You buck your hips again, searching for any additional pressure, any additional friction he’s so kind to offer. But you found none, just the heel of his hand pressing into your mons to ground your hips for the second time.

“You need to calm down, pretty girl. Can’t have any wandering eyes knowing what I’m doin’ to you.” He rasps into your ear after pulling back from the kiss.

You feel your lower lip tremble in frustration. It’s completely unfair that the first chance he gets to touch you like this in days is in the bed of his truck with people only a few feet away. You were grateful for the blanket covering the both of you even if it grew warmer and warmer underneath.

The arm Joel has under your head cranes again and grips your chin, turning your head away from him to present your neck to him. He takes advantage immediately, pressing open mouth kisses to your collar and all the way up to your jaw, he stops to suck for a quick second before releasing or to blow air softly over the damp spot he leaves.

“Fuck, Joel.” You stifle a moan.

He continues kissing lazily at your neck while grinding his hand into your damp panties. Your knees are bent slightly, thighs clamped around his wrist but it doesn’t stop him. He runs his middle finger along the wet spot in the center of your panties.

“Poor thing. Must’a been achin’ these past few days.” He pressed a hot kiss by your ear.

It sends a shiver down your spin and white heat into your lower belly.

“Huh? You been thinkin’ ‘bout this, sweet girl?” He taps three fingers against your clothes folds and your body twitches in reaction.

You nod your head quickly but he tuts his tongue.

“Lemme hear you. N’ you better say it quietly.”

“Yes, Joel.” Your voice is just above a whisper. “Been thinking about you every night.”

He hums in satisfaction while toying with the elastic of your panties before pulling them to the side. You didn’t realize how much they were suffocating you, the freedom he now had sent a fresh wave of arousal right between your thighs and you gasped. A little too loudly. Joel’s hand on your chin quickly clamped over your mouth, cutting your gasp with his broad palm. Your eyes were wide and darted over to him rapidly. He could feel the soft puff of your frantic breaths from your nostrils on his finger. It made a sickening smile spread across his lips. A knowing smile.

“Don’t know how many times I gotta tell you, baby. Gotta be quiet.” He presses a kiss to your temple while finally dipping his fingers between your folds.

His hand muffles a whimper rumbling at the back of your throat. He presses his fingers more firmly against your mouth, ceasing any other remaining noises that threaten to spill. He drags two fingers from bottom to top, collecting your slick as lubricant to circle gently around your clit. The muscles pull hard in your stomach, your soaked walls spasming around nothing.

Your eyes are still wide and looking at Joel, silently pleading through muffled grunts and whines. He looks down at you, almost sympathetic to your whines and twitches.

“No need to worry, pretty girl. I’ll take care f’ya.” He reassures you but moves his fingers no differently.

Agonizingly slow circles with the occasional tap from his middle finger. Your settled arousal has now completely soaked your underwear that's tugged to the side. Joel slides his middle finger down your slit, rubbing the tip of his finger at the rim of your cunt, barely pushing inside. This does something to you. The tease, his smug look while he watches your reaction and the building anticipation in your lower belly. Days and days of day dreaming about this happening and he’s teasing you. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes and they don’t go unnoticed by Joel.

“Awh, c’mon now, sweetheart. Need it that bad?”

You nod to the best of your ability, his hand still clamped over your mouth.

“Tell you what, sweet girl.” He whispers into the top of your head while his finger continues to tease. “Gonna give you what you want-.” He kisses the top of your head. “What you deserve.” He corrects himself. “But you can’t take your eyes off that movie. Y’hear me?” He pulls back to look down into your blown black, glossy eyes.

You mumble against his hand and for a second he removes it to allow you to speak.

“Y-Yes, Joel. Pleasepleaseplea-“ You pant a few times and Joel cuts off your please by clamping his hand there again.

He sucks his teeth and shakes his head, his fingers stopping where they are.

“You forget the first thing I told you? Told you to be quiet, too. You think you can handle all this at once?” He asks and you nod your head swiftly.

“Good girl.” He praises softly.

You lock your eyes onto the movie that's projecting before you, not taking in a single frame of it. All that's running through your head is Joel.

Joel. Joel. Joel. Joel. Joel.

Joel Miller, your maintenance man. Your auto repair man. Your ‘call during a panic attack man’. Your ‘sneak into the house for a sleepover man’. Your ‘planning secret dates man’. Is this a date? He took you to a secretly planned drive-in movie and is now finger fucking you in the bed of his truck-

It’s a date.

Your thoughts don’t have much time to spiral because Joel finally pushes one of his thick fingers into your cunt. It’s warm and slick and hugging his digit. He groans while bottoming out to his knuckle. He keeps it there for a moment before drawing it out and pushing it back in slowly. He sets a painfully slow pace. One that makes your thighs shake with need and your already strained breath catches in your chest.

“Doin’ real good.” He says softly against your hair.

His palm muffled the sob that you choke out. You buck your hips into his hand, silently trying to tell him you want more, you need more. You need him. He fully removes his finger from your slick when you do this.

“Greedy lil’ thing.” He comments before pushing his middle and ring finger into your pussy.

Your body buckles against his and he ‘shh’s you quietly.

You feel your walls stretch around his second digit, merely uncomfortable for a second before turning sweet. Joel pumps his fingers at a slow, steady pace. He cranes his thumb to rub into your clit every time he sinks his fingers deeper into your cunt. He leans in and leaves a few lingering kisses into your hair, his warm breath fanning down your neck. The frames of the movie are blurred and moving too quickly for you to absorb any of it. They flutter when Joel curls his fingers upwards. A lewd, drawn out whine gets caught in his palm.

“Keep watchin’ that.” He reminds you when your head starts to turn towards him.

He tightens his grip over your mouth, not painful but there's enough pressure to know he’s serious. Your breaths are quick through your nose while your core grows white hot. That familiar bubbling in your lower belly sets in. Joel watches your body react. Your chest rises and falls quickly but it sputters when he takes a moment to curl his fingers while bottomed out in you. His slick thumb adds pressure just above your clit and draws small circles.

Joel resumes fucking his fingers in and out of you, curling his opposite bicep to keep your close to his chest. He’s looking down at you with half lidded eyes, lips parted just slightly. You can barely see him out of the corner of your eye and it's driving you insane. You want to see how his pupils are blown wide, how he wets his lips when you make a noise against his hand. You want to see how fucking good he looks while making you feel like this. Fuck it.

You turn your head slightly, eyes glueing onto him. He doesn’t waste a second. He stops thrusting his fingers and leaves them deep in you. All that build up in your belly is ripped from you and you almost sob into his hand.

“What’d I tell you, hm?” He asks but it’s rhetorical.

“Told you to keep your eyes on that movie, sweetheart.” He brings his thumb to your clit and taps it once, then twice.

Your body jolts with each tap, thighs shaking while trying to clamp around his hand. You don’t stop looking at him though. Joel raises his eyebrows.

“You tryin’ to call my bluff, pretty girl?” He gravels in your ear.

Your eyebrows furrow together. No, no, no. That’s not what you’re doing.

“Think I won’t leave you just like this? Stop right now n’ leave you with that mess between your legs?” His voice is so low and steady it gives you a rush.

How can he be so solid? If he asked you to speak right now you’d be stuttering over every word.

“Look at the screen.” He tells you while curling his fingers and tapping them at the inside of your walls.

You must not have moved quick enough for him as he turns your head with the grip he has on you. It’s taking too much effort to look at him from the side of your peripheral vision. So you blink back at the movie with a soft sob.

“Atta girl.” He whispers.

Joel picks up speed and he is giving you no mercy. His fingers move in quicker, harder, firmer thrusts into you. If his fingers are making you feel this way you can’t imagine how his cock will. Every whimper or broken moan comes muffled and you’re thankful for his hand because you genuinely don’t think you could be quiet enough right now.

You’re fully engulfed in Joel. You’ve got one hand of his around your mouth, the other buried deep inside your cunt, his mouth whispers filthy praises between soft, lingering kisses to your temple. All you can smell is him. Long gone is the popcorn, scents from the snack shack or any sense of night summer air. Joel’s scent is running deep through you. Heavy like cedar and clean. His blankets smell like him, too. It’s comforting.

“Can feel you grippin’ me so good, baby. You gonna make a mess on my finger f’me?” He coaxes you and you nod your head to the best of your ability.

You arch your back away from the bed of the truck while he grinds his palm into your clit, fingers curling over and over again. Joel fixes his grip on your mouth in anticipation of what's to come and you can feel the muscles in his bicep flexing around your head.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Want you to give it all t’me.” He leans down to whisper right into your ear, pressing a soft kiss there.

All the muscles in your core tighten, thighs shaking, breath stuttering. You can’t even keep your eyes open anymore, they’re screwed shut.

“Doin’ so good.” He praises softly. “Gonna make a mess. Go on n’ give it to me.” He presses a long kiss to your temple, the heel of his palm giving you the much needed friction on your clit. “Let me feel you, my sweet girl.”

That was it. Your hand scrambled for something to hold onto, like the weight of Joel’s brooding figure surrounding you wasn’t enough. You bunched the fabric of his shirt in your fist and sobbed into palm while you came. Hot and frantic, arousal gushing between your thighs while your walls spasmed around his fingers.

“That’s it, darlin’.” He coo’s while groaning softly.

His fingers move slower, riding you out through your high. Your body jerks and twitches as he slowly rubs into your overstimulated clit but his tight hold keeps you still for the most part.

“Look so pretty, baby. You did so good.” He praises in such a sweet voice.

He peppers kisses on your cheek and your temple before slowly unsheathing his fingers all while loosening his grip over your face. You take a deep breath in now that your mouth is uncovered.

“Easy, baby girl.” He whispers.

He gently pulls your underwear back to its place and places his two soaked fingers in his mouth. You whine quietly at the sight while turning into him and wrapping your hand around his wrist, pulling his fingers from his mouth to put them in your own.

“Fuck.” Joel mutters as he watches you close your lips around his fingers and suck.

You let them go with a ‘pop’. Joel grips your jaw and pulls you in for a heated kiss, his wet middle finger and thumb pressed into the flesh of your cheeks. It wasn’t long but it was strong and hard and laced with want.

The static on the radio is what causes the kiss to break. You both lifted your heads to see the end credits rolling for the second film. You couldn’t stifle the quiet laugh that bubbled from your lips and neither could Joel. You rest your head on his chest for a moment before he taps your back.

“We gotta get outta here.” He mutters while sitting up with you.

“You in a rush?” You ask while tilting your head.

“I’d say a lil’ bit, yeah.” He rubs his hand over his beard and chuckles.

“For what?” You rest your hand on his leg and he shoots you a knowing look.

He opens his mouth to say something but hesitates for a second.

“I’m a man of my word.” He says flatly while shrugging his shoulders and beginning to pack up the snacks and blankets strewn across the bed of the truck.

You furrow your eyebrows.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

Do you? You give him a confused look. You don’t think you do.

Regardless, you help him clean up. He’s working rapidly, haphazardly shoving unfolded blankets into the bags they were once folded neatly in. Once everything is squared away, he’s hopping off the tailgate and gesturing you with his hands.

“C’mon now.” He rasps.

You follow and he helps you off the tailgate. Once settled into the cabin of the truck Joel pulls out- a little too fast. You think you might be the first car to pull out after the second movie ended. The soft and sweet Joel you pulled in here with is long gone. This Joel is rushed and filled with determination. There's no humming sweet songs and no shared soft glances. He’s paying attention to the road. One hand white knuckles the steering wheel while the other has a firm grip on your thigh. You watch him the whole damn time. The way the muscle in his jaw ticks. The way his forearm flexes as he readjust the grip on your thigh with his thumb rubbing circles onto the outside. You let your eyes fall down his torso and your breath hitches when you see the bulge in his jeans. Strained and you’re positive he’s throbbing.

Man of his word.

It is rattling around in your brain right now.

Thoughts of baking the cake flood your mind. Then the phone call the night before that and-

There it is.

He promised you something specific. And you haven’t exactly had the chance since then. You keep this revelation to yourself and lean over the center console to place your hand on his knee. He jerks it away from you in surprise but slowly relaxes back in the seat.

“What’re you doin’?” He asks with his voice taught.

“Nothing.” You say simply while inching your hand up his thigh.

“Careful.” He warns.

You ignore his words and slip your hard over his bulge. He hisses through his teeth and grips the steering wheel so hard the leather squeaks.

“Everything okay?” You say sweetly, paying no mind to your actions right now.

You palm him gently before tracing your fingers over the outline of his cock and you can see his body go rigid.

“Knock it off while I’m drivin’.”

“Hm?” You hum, only half paying attention to him while rubbing your thumb over his erection.

“Said knock it off.” He spits.

“Oh, you want me to stop?” You ask while wrapping nimble fingers around him.

He sucks in a sharp breath and grits his teeth. He doesn’t answer but does shoot daggers in your direction. You bite your bottom lip to stifle a laugh that he doesn’t find amusing. You reel your hand back to drop into your own lap and lean back into your seat. A few moments pass while you each exchange pointed gazes and Joel rolls to a stop. You pull your eyes off him and look around- your car.

“Listen to me-” Joel starts while turning to you. “Want you to get out the truck, start up your car and drive home. You think you can do that?”

You furrow your eyebrows and glance between him in the car, unable to read his mood for a moment.

“Are you leaving?” You ask with your handle on the door.

He shakes his head.

“Want you to take your car home so I can park down the street. Y’don’t think your lil’ roommate’ll start askin’ who’s truck is outside everynight?” He tilts his head, a smile toying at the corners of his lips.

Your smile is wider though. You nod your head and hop out of the truck.

“You drive safe, y’hear me? I won’t be but right behind you, sweetheart.” Joel tells you before you shut the door and nod your head.

You’re fumbling for your keys to open your door. When you start up the car you waste no time getting a move on. You don’t think you’ve ever made it home faster. You pull into your spot and as promised, Joel pulls down the road a few seconds after and parks a few spots away. You switch the car off and walk briskly to your front door. Fumbling with more keys. You open your door and shout out.

“Ellie? You home?” You wait in the doorway for an answer.

No answer.

She’s not home yet, perfect. You have ample time to get him in without worrying about sneaking about. You turn around and wave Joel in from his car. When he walks towards you he’s got a bit of pep in his step and you can’t help but smile wider. You usher him in and quickly close and lock the door behind him. You have no time to shove your key on the hook because Joel turns you around and immediately connects his lips with yours. Your arms fall limp as you kiss him back. His hands come to cup your cheeks, angling down into the kiss. You sigh softly into him, tilting your head and swiping your tongue along his plump lower lip. He grunts and takes one of his hands off your cheek to grip your hip while the other moves to the back of your head. You absentmindedly toss your keys in the direction of the table in your entry way to free up both hands for Joel. You grip his forearm with one and settle the other on his chest only for a moment before you’re pulling at his flannel, balling it in your hand and tugging at it. He pulls back from the kiss with a soft smile, bringing his hand to push some hair out of your face. You smile back at him, slowly walking the two of you closer to the steps. Joel lets up on his grip and allows you to lead the way. His lips are on yours the second your bedroom door closes.

“Joel-” You whine into the kiss, both hands not fumbling with the buttons on his flannel.

He bites softly at your lower lip, ignoring your plea but he does swat your hands away with one of his before working at his buttons effortlessly. He breaks the kiss to remove his flannel, toss it to the side and do the same with your zip up. He connects your lips again, with force. He’s leading you backwards until the back of your thighs makes contact with the comforter. This feels all too familiar. THe first time you kissed Joel was like this. At that point in time you never would've thought you’d have him the way you do now.

“Lay down.” He instructs and you listen.

You pull yourself onto the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows while kicking your shoes off of the bed. You hear the clunk of Joel's heavier booths toppling over on the floor before he’s on you. Kissing you everywhere but your lips. Starts at your forehead and down your cheek, then your jar and neck and he makes sure to spend a little extra time right at your collar. His beard is a scratchy contrast to his soft, wet lips and it makes you feel hot. You already feel your arousal between your legs again. He’s got you wrapped around his finger.

“You did so good earlier.” He mumbles into your skin. “Kept quiet so none f’those people heard what I was doin’ t’ya. Made a fuckin’ mess on me."

You shudder and pull gently at the hair on the nape of his neck, taking staggered breaths.

“Did you like that?” He pulls back, looking to you for an answer.

You nod your head against the pillows.

“It felt good.” You tell him.

“Know it felt good, baby. Had to keep my hand over your mouth. Made me real upset I couldn’t hear those sweet noises you were makin’.”

He slips his knee between yours to prevent you from clamping your thighs together and you writhe under him for a moment. You sigh softly in response.

“Joel, please just touch me.” you say quietly, almost unsure if you want him to hear it.

You have been beyond patient, and you can’t function properly until you feel him. You need it. You’re craving something you’ve never fully had.

“Alright, baby. I got you.” He says with a nod.

He meant it. His large hands are making quick work of your shorts and underwear. You gasp at the cool air making contact with your core. It makes you draw your knees up to press your thighs together. Joel shakes his head and lands both of his hands on your knees.

“Weren’t you just beggin’ me to touch you? How you reckon I do that like this?” He asks while pushing your knees apart.

You swallow thick and let him. His eyes follow your body while he sinks to his knees. Joel wraps his arms under your thighs and pulls you to the edge of the bed. You make a small noise of surprise that's quickly drowned out with a moan. His hot, open mouth is on you in seconds. Licking thick, long and slow strips up your folds. Your hand finds his hair immediately and grabs hold there. He hums into your core, pulling you flush to him with his grip on your thighs.

“F-Fuck, Joel. I-“ You whimper through heavy breaths.

He sucks gently at your swollen bud before pulling back and peppering soft kisses to the inside of your thigh, leaving damp marks behind. As he lifts his head he splays his one hand across your lower stomach, dipping his thumb past your slick folds to circle your clit.

“What’s wrong baby?” He coo’s.

“Need.. Need you.” You choke out while peering down at him and you moan at the sight.

Hair tousled, lips glossy and pupils blown like saucers.

“Need what? Want you to tell me.”

You toss your head back into the mattress in frustration. He knows what you need.

“More.” You say quietly, bucking your hips into his hand.

“Be specific. Let me hear you say it, sweet girl.” He presses another kiss to your thigh that makes you twitch.

“Fuck me.” You whimper, almost embarrassed to beg him like this.

“I’ve got you.” He says simply while leaning in to place a lasting, wet kiss to your cunt.

He pulls back and stands, the metal clank of undoing his belt has never sounded so good. The leather ripping through the denim loops made your heart beat faster. You struggled to remove your cami while he undressed himself but when you did you tossed it in a pile with the rest of the forgotten clothing.

You had to remind yourself not to drool. Joel’s body is beautiful. Tanned skin turns pale where his shirt covers him in the sun. The dark hair in his chest tapering down his stomach, leading to his swollen cock. He looks down to you with almost a pained expression while stroking his cock a few times.

“Y’look so fucking good.” He mutters while taking a step closer, his thighs now pressed into the mattress.

Fuck, you can practically feel the heat off him, he’s so close.

“Please, Joel. Please.” You sob out, squirming on the bed.

“I know, I know.” He whispers softly.

You part your legs, taking him between your thighs while propping yourself up on your elbows. Joel has one hand on your hip and the other hand gripping the base of his cock. He rubs the head of his cock through your slick folds a few times and you gasp loudly when he brushes past your clit. The noises leaving your mouth already are filthy.

“Fuckin’ soaked.”

“Joel.” You drag out a whine of his name impatiently.

“Shh, s’okay.” He reminds you.

Slowly he pushes the tip of his cock into you.

“Fuckin’- God.” He hisses through a tight jaw.

You felt all the muscles in your stomach tighten as he pushed you open. It pinched, the way his thick cock stretched you and you winced. But the promise that it would soon turn sweet was more than enough reason for you to withstand it. You suck in a sharp breath and toss your head back. Joel now has both hands gripping your hips as he sinks fully into you.

“Feel like you were fuckin’ made for me.” He lets out a guttural groan.

He keeps his hips pushed against your for a few seconds and just as you thought, that tight pinch had subsided and you needed him to move. You squirm beneath him, hands fisting your comforter below you, elbows sinking into the mattress.

“Joel-” You pant out. “Need you to move.” You whimper.

He doesn’t respond but does put his hand back where it was to thumb at your clit. You curse under your breath as he rubs slowly, pulling out of you. You already miss how full you felt. Full of him, to the brim. His hand at your hip keeps you still while he sets an agonizingly slow pace for his thrusts, rolling his hips forward before drawing them out.

“Fucl. You feel me here?” He rasps, pushing down on your lower stomach with his hand that was stimulating your clit.

The added pressure makes you see stars and the moan that left your throat was pathetic. He continues to thrust but picks up the speed just slightly.

“Give me your hand.” He asks but grabs your one hand before you have the chance to do anything.

He places it on your lower stomach, and places his large one over it. He pushes down on your hand, adding that weighted pressure again while he fucks into you.

“Feel that, baby girl?” He looks at you with lust filled eyes.

You do. You do feel him, deep inside of you and you feel the bulge of him under your palm.

“Fuck, yes.” You sob out.

“Taking me so good.” He groans.

You screw your eyes shut and let yourself fall back into the mattress, arms feeling like jelly with all of your nerves working overtime. Joel ends up swatting your hand away from your belly after some time before resuming his hold on your hips and yous into the comforter. He snaps into your hips with more force, not changing the pace but putting more weight behind each and every thrust. More concentrated. Joel was completely consumed by you. He couldn’t think about anything else other than the way your cunt hugged him so perfectly. About the lewd, wet noises while he fucked into you. About how sweet it is to hear the sounds you make. About how badly he wants to make you feel good. For Joel, this is all about you.

You arched your back away from the bed and Joel tightened his grip on your hips, the repeated heavy thrusts making your orgasm approach quickly and Joel can tell by the way your walls flutter around him.

“Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ good, angel face. You gonna cum, hm?” He hums while his thrusts grow more eager.

You nod your head quickly, barely being able to form the simple word, but a long string of breathless moans fall from your lips instead. That’s enough for Joel.

“Good girl.” He praises in a strained voice, his own orgasm building as his cock throbs inside of you but he wouldn’t dare to spill before you do.

You force your eyes open and as hard as it was to do that you are grateful to see what is before you. Joel Miller fucking into you, muscles straining under his skin with the iron grip on your hips. The light sheen of sweat covering his torso. The way his face flushed and the look in his eyes alone could make you come undone. The way your breathing hitches and your moans tick up a pitch signals Joel as to just how close you are.

“Gonna cum on my cock, pretty girl? Make a fuckin’ mess on me?” He gravels through labored breaths. “Let me hear you.”

You don’t hold back at all, filthy moans dripping from your lips with every breath.

“Fuck! Joel I’m gonn-”

“Cum for me, pretty girl.” He says while returning his thumb to your clit, not rubbing but just adding pressure.

And you do. It rips through you, white hot. You don’t know if any of the noises leaving your mouth are coherent right now but you don’t care and neither does Joel. It feels too good to finally be taken like this by him. You’re sure theres a few broken cries of his name in there, you can tell by the way Joel curses under his breath and lets out his own strangles moans.Joel doesn’t move his thumb but he continues to fuck you through it. Your skin is on fire right now and Joel is fueling it. Your walls spasm and grip him tightly, arousal gushing around him only to make the wet slapping noises more prominent.

“That’s it, baby Fuck- So, fuckin’, good.” Joel spat while delivering a harsh thrust between every word.

His thrusts are growing more sloppy, the force behind them is wavering only slightly. Your limbs feel like jelly and the only thing grounding you is Joel’s grip.

“M’gonna cum- fuck. Gonna cum, darlin’.” He moans.

“Please.” You sob out and he lets his head fall between his shoulders.

“So fucking good baby.” He praises you and you whimper in response.

Your hand wraps around one of his wrists and holds it tightly. Joel lifts your hips just off the mattress and fucks into you roughly a handful of times before swiftly pulling out of your cunt and letting his soaked, throbbing cock rest on your lower belly. He pushes his hips forward as he cums, spilling his seed over your hot skin, strangled grunts leaving his lips. Joel collapses a bit, his grip on your hips is gone and his fists and pushes into the mattress on either side of your torso. He lets his head hang while he breathes heavily. You watch him with your lips parted, moaning at the pure sight of him.

“Fuck.” he mumbles after a beat, his ribs still expanding and deflating.

Slowly he lifts himself back up and reaches a hand down to cup your cheek.

“You did so good, sweetheart.” He says with a hoarse voice and you whimper at the skin on skin contact.

“Gonna clean you up, pretty girl.” He says breathlessly.

You turn your head and half assed point to a towel that's hanging up. Without another word Joel grabs it and comes back over to you, gently wiping his cum from your belly. You twitch and squirm, nerves on high after everything that just happened. The drive in. How close he held you while fingering you in front of all those people. The way he just fucked you into your mattress. You were having a hard time wrapping your head around all of it and you were grateful Joel is caring for you. You don’t have the energy to do anything else but let him right now.

“So pretty.” He praises softly while wiping up the last bit on your stomach.

Joel carefully places a hand on your thigh and parts them. You whine quietly at the sensation.

“I know, I know.” He comforts while bringing the towel to wipe at the slick between your thighs.

You choke out a small whimper and squirm, thighs shaking under his grip.

“Easy, baby. S’alright.” He reminds you and leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

Joel tosses the towel to the side before returning to you once more. You feel the mattress dip beside you as he settles behind you. He’s slipped his boxers on at some point, and pulls the blanket around you to offer some sort of covering. He pulls you into his chest and presses kisses to your head.

“You did perfect.” He whispers into your hair.

You close your eyes and hum softly, leaning back into him as he holds you by your waist.

“So beautiful,” He kisses again. “Proud of you.” He mumbles there.

Bliss. That's the only way you can describe what you’re feeling right now. Soft and warm, spent and having Joel coddle you afterwards. You couldn’t ask for anything more. You close your eyes and sigh deeply while relaxing into the bed. Joel slowly combs his fingers through your hair, brushing the strands out of your face when you speak up.

“Thank you for today.” It comes out barely a whisper.

“Don’t have to thank me for any of that. I’d do all of it and more to see that pretty smile on your face.” He drawls while leaning to press a kiss to your temple.

That's the last thing you remember before lulling off to sleep with Joel holding you snugly

#pintobugspeaks #joel miller #joelmiller #the last of us #tlou #dbf!joel #joel miller x reader #dbf!joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedropascal #pintobugwrites

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pigeons4brains · 2 days ago

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HELLOO!!! I don’t rly know how reqs work, but if its okay, could you perhaps do an Elliot x GN homesick reader fic? Like after a while of being in forsaken, reader eventually starts getting homesick and missing their family A LOT to the point where they would zone out in rounds and just reminisce about the times with their family

DW Anon this request is actually really cute..and has potential for angst hehe

Elliot x Homesick!GN!Reader 🍕

Cw// canon typical violence and dying (not too descriptive, it's vague and quick), implied suicide attempt, but its not described too much on how its done, just that it happened, it’s mentioned once in the beginning so be careful. 1x mention but never pops up physically.

Other than that, This has Angst and Comfort…yum yum.

Tried to make details of the reader's family EXTREMELY vague, just so the reader is able to better insert themselves in. I wanted some good old angst and fluff in this one, so boom, hehe. This is my first time writing for Elliot, so forgive me if he’s ooc since this may or may not be very heavily carried by my hcs for him, i mean to be fair majority of my fics are but yk. It’s also a hc of mine that Elliot (If we ignore the reader) is one of the more recent people to get forsakened, It was a hc made for goofs but ehhh lowkey i fw it so it gets slapped here too.

Decided to make the killer 1x here..because i have beef with 1x LIKE STOP SNIPING ME WITH ENTANGLEMENT WHEN I PUT MY RITUAL DOWN AOUGH!!! N E wayyyyys yeah thats it

Not beta read and its fairly short, apologies if it's written oddly, I haven't been feeling well, but I refuse to let your request collect dust!!/pos I also had no clue how to end it so I had the ending be very ambiguous? If that's the word, it's up to ur interpretation of what happens next if that makes sense

Hopefully you and many others enjoy, I had some fun writing this🌸

You didn't feel the best. Who would in what is essentially a purgatory. It wasn’t as bad when you first got here, aside from being very confused and disoriented, but that's back when you had hope of returning home. A hope that lasted a week at most. It’s hard to be hopeful when every match you're killed in the most brutal way, only to wake up completely fine in your cabin. You were completely out of it the first five or six times, but you eventually got used to it. It didn't make ‘dying’ any easier. It never did. You never got how the others were so casual about it, you figured that they’d been in here way longer than you.

You’d considered trying to die in the main area outside of a round, but whoever put you here made sure that you couldn't. You always wake up after. No matter what you did to yourself. The only thing you got from it was a punch to the gut by your brain, telling you to give up on any escape. This was your life now. And you could do nothing and go with whatever happened.

You spaced out often. Reminiscing about home. About your family. It was especially bad today, you had been doing a generator, spaced out and fixing the machine from pure memory alone. Not noticing the slash from afar that had now just met your body, forcing you to get your head out of the clouds and to lean against the generator for support. You cough violently. Knowing who the killer was now, you force yourself to abandon the half done generator and limp away. You wanted to just lay down and let yourself die again, but your body refused to stop moving until you found an adequate spot to catch your breath.

Your body hurts as you lean against a wall, you knew that 1x was likely after someone else. Giving you time to rest and figure out what to do. You slide down to a sitting position, your mind already wandering back to your past life. You wondered what they were doing now. Did they miss you? Were they even looking for you still? It's been weeks afterall..

A gentle, but firm hand reaches for your shoulder, shaking you gently as you’re once again ripped from your thoughts. You look up at the person next to you. It was Elliot, one of the other people stuck here with you. He was crouched down, and held a medkit in his free hand. Must’ve used up all his pizza. You never got how that worked. You’d rather not think about it.

Elliot hands you the medkit, his tone just as concerned as his expression. “I saw you limping away earlier, You really gotta be careful, Especially against killers like 1x.” He says it is common knowledge and common sense.

You can’t help but sigh, opening the medkit. “Yeah…Got it.” you say. You're almost shocked by how exhausted you sounded, but to be fair you rarely spoke to anyone. It doesn't go unnoticed by Elliot. He sits besides you. Watching you use the medkit, making sure you use it properly. You had a habit of not doing so. Not that he or anyone else could blame you. You’d only been here a couple weeks while he’s been here for a couple months at this point. He understood what you were feeling.

“Hey…I know you’re having a tough time adjusting to all this, but you know what helps me whenever I miss home?” he says softly, smiling fondly. You raise an eyebrow, turning your head to him. “What?” You ask, curious.

You hear him let a soft chuckle out, his gaze turning to yours. You never realised how soft his eyes were, you’d always seen him so tense within the rounds. He finally speaks after a moment. “I think about all the dumb stuff my younger sister used to do growing up.” He says, giving you a soft smile. You give him an unamused look, tilting your head. “..Wouldnt that make the zoning out and missing home feeling worse?”

He shook his head. “Not really, it’s almost…more comforting to think about, It helps. I don't zone out as much anymore. It could be different for everyone, but I don’t like watching people suffer. All everyone has here is each other, after all.” He shrugs slightly. You finish using the medkit, setting the empty box down beside you. You're silent for a moment, looking away as you sigh, letting a small smile grow on your lips. “I…I appreciate it, Elliot. Thanks.” You say, still looking away, you feel almost embarrassed. You’ve isolated yourself from the others since you got here, you never cared to try and get to know anyone. You feel his hand retreat from your shoulder as he stands up, stretching slightly.

“If you need anything, in or out of a round, you can always come to me, alright?” He says, looking down at you, a soft smile on his face. He reached his hand out for you to take, wanting to help you up. You take his hand, and he helps you stand, making sure you don’t topple over.

“Man these rounds last forever.” You comment absent mindly, sighing. You’re exhausted and in need of a nap. Elliot lets a breathy laugh out. “Mhm, it can feel that way, but I believe it should end in a bit, you can stick with me if you want, just in case you start zoning out again.” he replies. You’re almost shocked that anyone could still be kind here, but you’re grateful. “..I’d like that.” you say, your smile growing a bit wider.

The round eventually ended a little bit after. You felt a bit better. You still had a hard time adjusting, but with Elliot's advice it was easier to cope with your situation. It was comforting in a way. You'd often think about the time your sibling had driven their bike straight into a lake during winter. Made you feel better every time.

While you didn't interact with the others much still, you weren't completely isolated, you still occasionally went to Elliot, maybe occasionally made small talk with one of the others, and no surprise it helped to talk about anything to distract yourself.

You woke up feeling refreshed, while you didn't hope for an escape, it was more of a lingering thought in the back of your head. You chose to think about the positives instead. Even if the situation wasn't the most ideal.

Plus you got a friend out of it.

#Elliot x reader #elliot forsaken #forsaken x reader #x reader #angst and comfort #brought to you by pigeons 4 brains i dunno what else to tag guys

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agustdsluv · 7 hours ago

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☆ THE GRUDGE - THE SERIES

summary | Two people were once inseparable. Best friends, maybe something almost more—but everything shattered after one heartbreaking betrayal. Now, after a year of silence, fate throws them back into each other’s orbit—older, messier, but still tethered by everything unsaid.

“my undying love, now l hold it like a grudge”

Inspired by Olivia Rodrigo’s “the grudge”

paring | jungkook x f!reader

genre/warnings | Ex Situation-ship, Ex Best Friends to Strangers to Lovers (hopefully?) Angst, Emotional Slow Burn, Unresolved Feelings, alcohol consumption, swearing (but not really) emotional manipulation, jungkook being an asshole, YN being sensitive, jealousy moments, aching and raw emotions, get tissues

word count | tbd.

notes: ahhhhh I’ve been having so much fun writing this and the plot is everything. I’m obsessed. I can’t wait to share it with you guys!!! seeing your reactions and comments is everything to me!! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I’m enjoying writing it! coming soon!!!

join the taglist!

☆ SERIES M.LIST | MAIN M.LIST

0.0 | EASY TO FORGET (teaser)

0.1 | SORRY WITHOUT SAYING IT

0.2 | YOU BUILT ME UP

0.3 | TO WATCH ME FALL

0.4 | BUT YOU DONT EVEN KNOW THAT I EXIST

0.5 | I TRY TO LET GO

0.6 | BUT YOU BUILT A HOME IN MY MIND

0.7 | FORGIVE YOU FOR WHAT YOU DID

0.8 | EPILOGUE: EVEN AFTER ALL OF THIS

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baji-sideblog · 13 hours ago

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Pen Pal

❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀

You’ve always wondered what it will be like to have a pen pal, it seems a little scary but also really fun. Though you forgot about that idea for a while till being well into adulthood. Being an adult you reason you can handle anything if something does become a little weird. Looking online you found a website were people sign up for pen pals. Scrolling through the site you try finding someone that catches your eye, there’s no photos just bios. Eventually you do find a bio that catches your eye, and from the looks of it, it seems that no one else has touched this at all. The upload date on the bio is almost from six years ago. Guess you can just do this one, hopefully Edward is still open for letters.

Writing a small intro letter you send it to the address he had listed. After a week you walk to your mail box and see you got a letter back! Rushing inside you eagerly open it.

“Dearest pen pal,

I’ll be frank, I was not expecting a letter at all seeing as my listing is so very old that I even forgot about it. Though that doesn’t mean I didn’t appreciate it. Your letter is like a flower in this dump of a place I’m in. I dearly, dearly hope you do write me back. I’d love to communicate further with you. My bio is a bit outdated by now, so let me reintroduce myself to you.

My name is Edward Crassidens, I’m currently 37 years old. I’d adore reading, gardening specifically herbs. I can not garden flowers for the life of me. And crocheting though I’ve sadly have not been able to do so in a while. It’s been a little frustrating I miss making my own jackets and sweaters. I hope to hear from you soon. Maybe in your next letter you can tell me all about your hobbies? I do love collecting them.

Forever yours,

Edward”

You swing your legs as you write a reply back to him, this is just as exciting as you hope. And bonus points he’s not creepy at least from what you can tell in his first letter. From then on you two would write each other all the time. When you eventually learned that Edward couldn’t indulge in crocheting due to not being able to afford to at the current time, you sent him a hook and some yarn. The next thing you know he sent you a scarf he made as thanks. Having been writing each other for at least over a year and a half you take a photo of yourself wearing said scarf, print it, and sent it in your next letter. His letter this time around is rather thick, opening it you see an adorable pouch he made, setting it aside you start to read his letter.

“Oh my Luvan, oh my goodness gracious.

My dearest pen pal,

How in the world could you have gone so long without telling me how gorgeous you are! I almost had a heart attack seeing your photo. I do not mean to be so blunt and crude with you, or to overwhelm you. But you are genuinely such a gem, a diamond through and through. I figured you’d be a beauty with your gorgeous and silly personality, but you blew my expectations out of the water. And no that’s not tongue in cheek with me being half waterfolk. Bad jokes are your job, I tease.

Apologies though if my letter to you is scattered. I’m still just in a bit of shock, and my heart has not calmed down at all. It still keeps skipping a beat every time I even glance at your picture. Thank you, for trusting me with such a big thing. I’m deeply joyful that you’re enjoying the scarf. As soon as I can get my hand on enough yarn I’ll make you a sweater to match it! That I swear to you.

Forever yours, even more so,

Edward”

You’re left blushing and giggling from his letter. You put it to the side and write your own letter back to him. This time you ask if you could see a photo of him. Wanting to finally put a face to the man who’s written his way into your life You also mention your favorite color to him for the sweater he promised. And wait for the next one. It feels like time goes by slowly as you wait for his letter. Friday afternoon you dash to your mailbox opening it you tear the letter open. A small photo falls out of it, grabbing it you finally see him. His long dark blue hair tied back in a ponytail, his horns as blue as the sea, and his false killer whale features added to his charm. Those light blue eyes of his are piercing, though you notice that the photo only shows his face and a bit of his shoulders. He must be shy to show his body, you tell yourself.

“My dearest pen pal,

I hope that I live up to your image of me. I must say I was rather nervous taking the photo. Especially since I’m not able to preen myself as I’d like where I’m currently presiding. But I believe it is time for me to stop addressing you as just my pen pal, you are far more special to me than anyone has ever been in my life. I’d be lost without you, and to be truthful I was. I was lost in a sea of doubt that I’d ever accomplish my dreams. But now by meeting you, those dreams seem so very real now. And I’ve never felt so much life before.

So I believe that you deserve a much more special name now. My little corazón, today as of writing this letter shall mark the day that I start on my journey to see you in person. I can no longer wait anymore, my heart yearns for you. You are perfection my corazón the perfect spouse that I’ve dreamed of. Do not write back I will not be able to respond, since I won’t be here. Apologies I do not mean to neglect you my love. I shall make up for it once we see each other.

Forever yours,

Your beloved husband Edward”

You look at the letter in shock, sitting down you try to reason with yourself that nothing is going to happen. That he’s just messing with you. You toss the letter to the side, grabbing your phone you start scrolling trying to distract yourself. As you’re scrolling through shorts one catches your attention, grabbing Edward’s photo you stare in shock seeing his mugshot on your phone. Edwin Pseudorca, escaped from jail on Sunday night and has been on the run ever since. Wanted for killing seven people. Your heart drops, shakily you rush to try and call the police to inform them of your situation. As soon as you touch your phone app, a big grey hand wraps around yours, yanking your phone out of your grip. Turning slowly to look behind you, you see Edwa-Edwin, smiling down at you.

“My little diamond, my corazón. Your husband is finally home. You’re so much more perfect in person, truly better than the liars and cheats I was with before. I don’t even have to fix anything with your body.”

❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀

#yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #baji rambles #yancore #edward crassidens (edwin pseudorca)#oneshot love #yandere male

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cressidagrey · 3 days ago

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when will be the next mrs. piastri update??

Okay, Anon, I am really sorry that I am using your message to say this, but this is literally the 6th message like this I got this week. (and yours is one of the nicer ones.)

If anybody who reads has ever wondered if messages like this somehow make an author write quicker, the answer is no.

The most they do is make people really, really annoyed. Especially because I have it in my pinned post:

I won’t be answering asks about when the next update is coming. I promise I’m still writing, but those messages can be overwhelming — and the time I’d spend replying is time I’d rather spend creating more for you!

So.

There will be an update, when I have finished writing it. Hopefully soon.

But asking authors this questions isn't a compliment. It's annoying.

(Also for me personally, it's annoying enough that I don't want to sit down and write anything at all.)

You don't mean it like that, I am sure. And you don't mean any harm with it. But asking somebody who has a real life, a job, school, friends, family, pets etc. and who is going out of their way to create something you consume for free, when there will be the next part is not nice.

I can promise you that we, as fanfic authors, don't just withhold the next part from our readers for fun. Most of the time, we just hadn't had time to write it because real life showed up.

Or, something just as likely and just as valid: We were working on something else. Or we just weren't in the mood to write at all. This is fun. We don't get paid.

#c answers

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darl-ingfics · 24 hours ago

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hi hello! I just wanted to send in a request for you to hopefully do sometime!

I wanted to request a sick S.Coups fic of him trying to hide his illness while the members clock him immediately and decide to care for him in a subtle way. he's not sick enough to be confined to bed or sent home, but sick enough that it's noticeable to those who know him well (aka the members) and it's slightly messing with his work and the stuff he's doing. maybe he's got a cold or something and blames his runny nose and sneezing on allergies? maybe he's got a cough and is blaming it on the cold air in the studio or bad air quality outside?

I can't wait to see how you write this! I so look forward to reading this and all of your other future works!

I hope you enjoy this! Inspiration came from episode 128 of Going Seventeen cause I saw it and adored it!

Blame it on the Chlorine

Fandom: Seventeen

Sickie: S. Coups (cold)

Caregiver(s): Mingyu (and Joshua)

Word Count: 1,302

It would never not be funny watching your bandmates get unexpectedly projected backwards into a pool. The yelps of shock. The dripping hair dangling in front of their eyes. The growing panic as they continued to confuse the danger words. The devilish glee when they did know the danger words and used that knowledge against one another.

It was pure comedy and even purer joy.

Or at least it was until became obvious that their leader was fighting a cold.

At first, Seungcheol had played off the sudden sniffling as chlorine in his nose from getting thrown into the pool so many times. It made sense - weren’t Jun and Chan sniffling just as much? In fairness, they were, at least at first, when they were all shaking off the after effects of repetitive dunking. The slight cough too was blamed on the water Seungcheol had accidentally swallowed in the chaos of the moment. Everything seemed normal.

But the day was pleasantly warm, bordering on hot, so Seungcheol still shivering in dry clothes with his damp towel clutched around his body fifteen minutes after the end of his turn was not normal.

Mingyu, once equally wet but not shivering nearly as much given that his water had been relatively warm, wrapped his arms around Seungcheol from behind, propping his head on the older man’s soggy blonde hair. Seungcheol tensed a bit at Mingyu’s touch, and the younger rapper recognized his brother trying to quell the shivers wracking through his body. He wasn’t successful: Mingyu could clearly feel the leader trembling.

“You good?” Mingyu whispered, angling his head so any cameras left on during the transition between members couldn’t catch it.

Seungcheol nodded. “I’m good.” Another shudder passed through his body, and he sniffled sharply.

Mingyu frowned, but didn’t push it. He shifted his chin so he could find Joshua, hoping the other 95 liner could give him a hand. But he’d forgotten that it was Joshua’s turn to play the game, the vocalist currently sitting with a nervous expression in one of the precarious chairs suspended over the pool. No, Shua couldn’t help him, at least not right now.

So Mingyu slumped further into his hold on Seungcheol, sighing in defeat as the second round began. Almost instantly, Hoshi was thrown backwards into the water. The pool deck erupted with laughter as the performance captain roared upon resurfacing, shaking his head like an upset puppy. The tech guy admitted he’d done it on purpose for comedic effect. That got everyone giggling again.

As Soonyoung got back to his seat and Seungkwan began to ask provoking questions that ended in the new group of members systematically getting drenched with water and tossed backwards into the pool, Mingyu found himself unable to fully join in the fun. Seungcheol was still trembling beneath him, the shivers seeming to get worse with time instead of better. The sniffling had also increased in frequency, and he kept shaking with tiny, suppressed coughs that only Mingyu was aware of given their current closeness.

During a short break in filming to fix one of the water buckets, Mingyu turned his head to the right, opening his mouth to try to get the attention of his fellow group members, but startling when he found Junhei already staring at him. “AGH! Hyung! What the heck?” Seungcheol flinched at his volume, and Mingyu rubbed at the leader’s shoulder in apology.

Jun blinked, completely unperturbed by Mingyu’s shouting. “What’s wrong, Gyu?” the dancer asked, concern clear in his eyes.

It was Mingyu’s turn to blink. “How did you…?” “You’ve looked tense this whole time. Your emotions are written all over your face,” Chan chimed in, leaning around Jun. “You’re the most open book I’ve ever met.”

“So open, I doubt the book’s bound by more than paper clips, string, and a dream,” Seungkwan added with a meaningful look. “So care to share with the class, Gyu?”

Seungcheol pulled back enough to turn and face Mingyu. “Are you okay? Did something happen in the game?” The earnestness in the leader’s expression, the fact that he truly seemed to believe that the something wrong with Mingyu wasn’t himself, made the rapper’s chest ache. So did the sudden raspiness in Seungcheol’s voice.

“No, no, I’m fine.” Mingyu slapped a hand against his chest. “I’m just nervous that…”

“Is it the game?” Chan spoke up. “I know it’s kinda scary to watch from the outside…”

“No, no, it’s not that, it’s…”

“Wait, you emphasized ‘I’m fine,’” Seungkwan, ever attentive to detail, pointed out.

“Yeah cause…”

“HEY! MC BOO! We’re ready for the next question!!” Soonyoung called, waving energetically. His tone was light, comedic, oblivious to what was almost unfolding over under the umbrellas. But it worked. Attention snapped back to the cameras, five entertainer masks slipping smoothly back into place as Seungkwan effortlessly picked back up where he had left off, Jun and Chan throwing in quips now and then. Seungcheol’s hands wrapped around Mingyu’s wrists, squeezing lightly. Mingyu frowned. His pout only deepened when Jun pinched his cheek.

It took thirty more minutes to finish the second group’s game and to film the episode outro. Mingyu refused to leave Seungcheol’s side, especially when he noticed the slight flush begin to paint the leader’s ears, a clear tell that he was running a fever. Luckily, Carats would read Mingyu’s clinginess as nothing more than that: a desire for comfort from his hyung, rather than the opposite.

The minute the cameras shut off, Seungcheol closed his eyes, heaving a deep sigh that turned into a harsh cough.

“Damn, hyung, how much water did you swallow?” Jihoon joked lightly. Seokmin looked on with guilty eyes.

Seungcheol shook his head. “Not much. I’d say the normal recommended amount.”

“Which is none.” Jihoon gave a sarcastic roll of his eyes, but he continued tracking Seungcheol’s movements. Mingyu was happy someone else had noticed.

Jihoon wasn’t the only one either, as Joshua quickly fell into step on Seungcheol’s other side as the group moved to change and go home. After swiftly looking Seungcheol up and down, Joshua leaned across him to address Mingyu: “How long’s he had the fever?”

“I don’t have a fever,” Seungcheol huffed, eyes glued straight ahead as they entered the break room with all of their belongings.

“I didn’t ask you,” Joshua said lightly, still eyeing Mingyu.

“I noticed it about seven-ish minutes ago?” the rapper replied. Seungcheol shot him a half hearted glare before sniffling sharply. Mingyu shrugged. “He’s also been doing that a lot.”

“Hmmm.” Joshua’s head cocked to the side as he considered Seungcheol while the leader began to gather his things. With Seungcheol distracted, Joshua took the opportunity to place his fingers against his friend’s neck. “Yeah, you’re warm, Cheollie.”

Seungcheol swatted Joshua’s hand away. “I’m fine, Shua.” He immediately bent to the side, a harsh sneeze into his sleeve leading into an even harsher cough. Joshua simply hummed again, crossing his arms over his chest, the spitting image of the full wrath Jeonghan only pulled on Seungcheol. The leader glared halfheartedly. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Then don’t spend a day getting pelted with freezing water without telling us you’ve got a cold,” Joshua shot back, voice plain. “We can help you, Cheol.”

“I don’t need help.” Seungcheol slung his backpack on, glancing meaningfully at both Joshua and Mingyu. “I appreciate your concern, but it’s not needed.”

“We’ll see about that in an hour or two,” Joshua replied with a sarcastically sweet smile, patting Seungcheol on the shoulder before he grabbed his own bag and walked out to the van.

Mingyu shrugged as the leader turned to him, eyebrows raised. “All signs point to Shua being right. You can’t stop shivering, hyung.”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes. “Drama queens, the lot of you.”

#seventeen sickfic #seventeen sick #kpop sickfic #kpop sick #svt sickfic #svt sick #sickie s.coups #caretaker mingyu #caretaker joshua #darlingfics #anon requests

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clarionglass · 1 year ago

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here we go :) part one of three, updates to be released weekly!

---

sam says 4 (game master cinematic universe, part 3)

Ruby was at her mum's for a family dinner she couldn't miss on pain of death, apparently, and the Doctor was many things, but a family dinner kind of guy wasn't one of them—particularly when Carla had already slapped him once in the short time he'd known her. He thought he'd broken his streak of bad luck with mums, but… well, seemingly not. So he was companionless for a few hours, and while he could wait for her to get back, maybe catch up on his reading—what was the point of waiting when you had a time machine?

He ran his hands over the TARDIS console, marvelling at her clean lines and metallic flourishes, the way that even now she felt brand new but familiar, and paused. He’d just pop off for a quick adventure, nothing too dangerous, but—where to go?

He could scan for a distress call nearby, and pitch in to help. He could drop in on Donna and Shaun and Rose, beautiful Rose, and see how they were all doing. Or he could just hit the randomiser button, and jump in feet first wherever he ended up.

He remembered a conversation from a long time ago, when he wore a different face, and his gorgeous TARDIS wore a face too, for the first and only time.

“You didn't always take me where I wanted to go.”

“No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”

He grinned. Who could resist an offer like that? He pressed the button and whooped as the time rotor spun into action, ready to see where the universe would take him.

---

Apparently, he was needed pretty close to where he already was. Earth, 2024. Huh. Same planet, same time—within a few months of where he’d left Ruby, even. The main thing that had changed was the location: he was now in the good old US of A. California, to be more specific, and Los Angeles to be more specific still. And to really narrow it down, the Doctor discovered as he poked his head out of the TARDIS doors, he was in… a broom closet. Not bad, as a parking spot—a bit squeezy, but out of the way. And as he poked his head out of that door, he could finally see he was in the backstage corridors of a studio of some kind. Film or TV, if he was to hazard a guess, it was a different vibe from Abbey Road.

With a shrug, he decided to go exploring.

It couldn’t have been more than a minute before a young woman wearing the full-black outfit, headset, and permanently stressed expression of a production assistant came running up to him.

“Are you the fill-in Sam organised?” she asked breathlessly, and honestly, seeing the look on her face, the Doctor didn’t have the heart(s) to tell her no. And really, what was the Doctor, if not a professional fill-in? This, this was why he had a randomiser button on the control panel, because whatever he was about to get himself into was going to be fun.

“Sure!”

“Oh, thank god,” sighed the production assistant, relief dawning across her face. “When Ally tested positive this morning, I thought we were sunk for the record, because we called around and we couldn’t get a hold of anyone. But then Sam said he could get someone in, and, you know, here you are, and just in time, so—ah, yeah, if you could follow me this way?”

Smiling all the way, the Doctor followed his guide through to hair and makeup, looking around as they went. The studio seemed to belong to a company called Dropout, according to the branding scattered around, and things seemed, at least on the surface, to be… well. Fine. He couldn't tell why he'd been brought here yet, which meant that when he found the reason, it was going to be particularly tangled. He couldn't wait!

And then he looked back at his guide, still engulfed in a miasma of anxiety, and realised he'd been too busy looking for clues to notice the person right in front of him.

“Hey, it's cool, you've found me,” he started with a gentle smile. “You can relax. Hi, I'm the Doctor. What's your name?”

“Oh!” she said, startled. “The Doctor, yeah, of course. Um, hi, I'm Kaylin. Look, sorry, it's just that I've been so busy this morning, I'm so distracted… Shit, and I would've completely forgotten to get your details too. There's paperwork to fill in, but you can do that later. Um, just for now, though, can I get your pronouns?”

The Doctor thought for a moment. “He/him, for now.”

Kaylin nodded, making a note on her phone. “Okay, cool! And do you have any socials?”

“Not me, babes,” he replied. “I'm hardly sitting down long enough to be able to update, you know?”

“On a day like this, I know exactly what you mean,” she said. “That's okay, Lou didn't have socials either for the longest time. Right, so if you go through there, the team will get you sorted, and once you're done, someone will take you up to the greenroom. All good?”

“All great,” the Doctor replied. Kaylin flashed him a quick, relieved smile, then hurried off.

Hair and makeup was a fairly quick process, the sound mixer fitted him with a microphone, and before too long, Kaylin was back to take him upstairs.

“This is the greenroom,” she said, pushing the door open. “The rest of the cast for the episode are already here—they’re great guys, and they’ve both been on the show a lot, so they’ll be able to help if you’ve got questions. And if you need anything else, just come find me or any of the other PAs, okay?”

The Doctor nodded, beamed at Kaylin, and walked in.

---

The greenroom was small but comfortable, and its occupants, two men around the same age as the Doctor appeared, looked up as he entered.

“Oh, you’re new,” the taller of the pair said, clearly giving him the once-over.

The other sighed with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, just as clearly used to his friend’s antics.

“Hey, I’m Brennan,” he said, levering himself up to standing from his perch on a chair arm, and holding out a hand. “That’s Grant.”

The Doctor took it warmly. “The Doctor. Just passing through, and happy to help.”

Grant’s eyebrows quirked. “Doctor… something?” he prompted.

“Or is it just ‘the Doctor’?” Brennan asked.

“Just ‘the Doctor’,” the Time Lord confirmed cheerfully. “You’ll get used to it, everyone does.”

Grant didn’t look convinced, but—

“Copy that,” Brennan shrugged, and settled back on the arm of the chair, returning his gaze to the door.

Grant, in turn, looked at the Doctor and rolled his eyes in a clear expression of ‘no, I don’t know why he’s like this, either’.

“Okay,” the Doctor said after a moment of watching the watching. “I wasn’t going to ask, but now I think I have to. What’s up with the door?”

Brennan huffed a laugh. “Well, the last time there was one of those up—” he pointed to the Out of Order sign stuck to the bathroom door, “—we got locked in here for the game.”

“He’s paranoid,” Grant interjected.

“Well, yeah, maybe,” Brennan retorted. “Or just cautious. Because Sam’s been acting weird lately, and we’re coming up to the last few records of the season, so he’s probably planning something way out of the box for the finale. And the original cast was you, me and Beardsley, so…”

He shrugged one shoulder meaningfully, and Grant nodded, conceding both the point and the potential for chaos.

“So if Sam comes in to give us the briefing, rather than waiting til we’re on set,” Brennan continued, “or there’s anything else weird going on, I’m gonna know about it right from the beginning.”

He turned to the Doctor. “The only reason I'm not quizzing you is because I know for a fact Beardsley was genuinely scheduled for this, so you can't be a plant by the production team. No offence.”

“None taken,” the Doctor smiled. “That sort of thing happen often, does it?”

Grant and Brennan exchanged a look.

“More than you'd think,” Grant answered with a grimace.

“Alright,” the Doctor said slowly, then brightened. “So what is it we're actually doing?”

Grant gave him a disbelieving glance. “You don't know—?”

“Very last minute fill-in,” the Doctor said breezily. “But don't worry, I'm a quick study.”

“Well, you're not that much worse off than the rest of us,” Brennan said encouragingly. “You know about Game Changer, obviously, if you know Sam, and we only find out the rules of the game once we get on set. Hopefully,” he added, with a dark look back at the Out of Order sign.

The Doctor nodded. No, he didn't know Sam, and he didn't know Game Changer, but he could work out the situation from context clues. This was a game show. And with the Toymaker banished, and Satellite Five not coming into existence for another 198000 years, give or take, he found himself smiling. Maybe third time would be the charm.

“Mmm, hopefully they aren't going to throw you in the deep end,” Grant said. “Because Brennan might seem lovely now, but as soon as we get out there, he's a whore for points. He'll stab you in the back and won't even blink.”

Brennan barked with laughter. “Yeah, and you wouldn't?”

“Excuse you, I'm always a goddamn delight,” Grant replied, the very picture of injured dignity.

“Oh, absolutely!” agreed a new voice. The Doctor turned to the now-open door to see a bearded man in a pinstriped suit smiling broadly. “That's why we keep inviting you back!”

Grant bowed sarcastically. “Why, thank you, Sam. Good to know I'm appreciated by someone here.”

“Always,” Sam replied, gently but firmly ending that particular path of the conversation. He scanned the room, and his eyes lit up when they landed on the Doctor.

“Ah, you must be the Doctor!” he said with obvious delight, walking over with his hand outstretched. “I'm Sam—thanks for filling in for us, you've made sure we're going to have a good show. Seriously, it's a pleasure to have you here.”

“Aw, cheers!” the Doctor smiled, shaking the offered hand. “Glad I could help out, I'm really looking forward to this!”

“Well, great!” Sam exclaimed, then took a step back, regarding all three players in turn. “Now, folks, I'm just letting you know that we're just about ready to start the record, so if you can start heading down, that'd be great.”

Grant and Brennan nodded—Brennan, the Doctor noticed, with relief.

“See you down there,” Sam said, smiling. “Have a great show, and—”

His eyes caught on the Doctor's for a second, twinkling.

“Good luck.”

---

Backstage, the Doctor, Brennan and Grant were marshalled into podium order and given a final briefing from the crew. And then, with a thumbs-up from Kaylin, that was it.

Showtime.

“Get ready for a Game Changer!” came Sam's voice from onstage. “Tonight’s guests: he can shoot off a monologue with laser accuracy; it’s Brennan Lee Mulligan!”

Brennan, his back to the camera as the curtains opened, spun on his heel and, with a stone-cold expression, pointed finger guns straight down the barrel, before letting the facade crack open. “Hi!” he exclaimed, and walked over to the leftmost podium.

“It’s his first appearance, but he’s already on fire; it’s the Doctor!”

The Doctor leant against the archway to the stage and flashed a broad smile towards the camera, then in a few skipping steps, had bounded over to the next free podium. What the hell, why not make an entrance?

“And even in the toughest of mazes, you’ll always be able to find him; it’s Grant O’Brien!”

Grant dipped his lanky frame into an approximation of a curtsey, spreading his arms wide, then sauntered over to the closest podium with a grin.

“And your host, me!” Sam announced, a ring of manic white showing around his irises as he beamed down the barrel of the camera. “I’ve been here the whole time!”

“This,” he continued, pushing his microphone shut and stowing it in his jacket pocket, “is Game Changer, the only game show where the game changes every show. I am your host, Sam Reich!”

As he said his name, he looked at his hands, front and back, as if he was pleasantly surprised to be himself, then gestured towards the three podiums.

“I am joined today by these three lovely contestants! Now, you understand how the game works.”

“Of course not,” Grant started. “You know we don't.”

“We can't, Sam, that's the whole point of the theatre you've set up here,” Brennan said over him.

“Not yet,” was all the Doctor said, anticipation starting to drum a tattoo of excitement against the inside of his ribcage.

“That’s right!” Sam said brightly, shooting finger guns at the camera. “Our players have no idea what game it is they’re about to play. The only way to learn is by playing. The only way to win is by learning, and the only way to begin is by beginning! So without further ado, let’s begin by giving each of our players fifty points.”

The Doctor, biding his time, watched the reactions of his fellow contestants. Grant looked at the front of his podium, checking the point total, and nodding approvingly when he saw that yes, it was sitting at a round fifty. Brennan, on the other hand, was starting to frown.

“Players, Sam says: touch your nose,” Sam began, and Brennan sighed the sigh of someone who wasn’t happy to be proved right.

“Oh, no,” he groaned. “Oh, you son of a bitch. Wasn’t one this season enough?”

He touched his nose anyway, as did the others, and Sam smiled encouragingly. “Sam says: touch your ear.”

When they all did, Sam nodded. “Touch your other ear.”

Everybody held still, fingers on the ears they had originally touched.

Sam beamed. “Easy, players, right?”

“You say that now,” Brennan said darkly. “Which makes it worse, because all you're doing is setting us up for failure.”

Sam gasped, pretending offence. “Would I do that?”

“Yes,” Brennan and Grant replied in unison, which drew a grin from the Doctor and set Sam off chuckling.

“And I'm not having it,” Brennan continued, leaning his elbows against his podium and pointing at Sam with the hand not touching his ear. “You better watch yourself, because I know how this game works, and you're not going to get one over on me.”

“Strong words, Brennan!” Sam said, clearly delighted by this response. “Okay, then, let's start making things a bit more interesting!”

The game continued as per Sam Says usual, some rounds done as a group and some individual. Points were won, sure, but lost slightly more frequently, and even the Doctor found he was having to concentrate to avoid getting caught in the host's traps.

It was fun. Genuinely, it was like playing a game with friends, and the Doctor felt himself leaning into it. There wasn't any sign of danger—maybe there wasn't a mystery to solve at all, and the TARDIS just decided he needed a total break.

Well, probably not. But the way things were going, he was able to let himself hope.

“Alright, players,” Sam said a good few rounds in, just as pleasantly as he would start any other question, and the screen behind him dinged as a new prompt popped up. “Survive the death beam.”

For a second, everything was frozen perfectly still.

And then came the crash, the explosive noise of heavy machinery moving relentlessly through a drywall set.

The Doctor was already moving. “Everyone down!”

“Duck!” Brennan yelled at the same time.

The two of them hit the ground within milliseconds of each other, but Grant was still paralysed in the face of the giant, science-fiction type laser cannon that had just ploughed through the wall.

It whined ominously, screaming its way to fever pitch. And then a sharp pain in Grant’s ankle made him stagger, pitching forwards onto the carpet behind the podiums as the Doctor rolled away to avoid getting pinned.

“Sorry, babes,” the Doctor whispered. “But it was either kick you to get you down, or—”

A hideous metallic screech ripped through the air, and all three of them could feel the crackle of ozone as a beam of energy swept across what had, moments ago, been neck height.

“…Or that,” the Doctor finished with a grimace.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Grant breathed, suddenly very conscious of every inch of his 6’9 frame. “Thanks.”

“Well done, players!” Sam exclaimed delightedly from above them. “But… sorry, I didn’t say ‘Sam says’, so that’s a point off for everyone.”

“What the fuck!” Brennan snapped.

“Are you actually insane?” Grant demanded at the same time, his voice overlapping with Brennan’s.

In response, Sam just wheezed with laughter. “You can come back to your podiums,” he said, cheerfully ignoring them.

Nobody moved.

“Very good!” he acknowledged, and even without seeing his face, the grin was obvious in his voice. “Okay, Sam says: come back to your podiums.”

Although the words were innocuous, and his tone was just as light and breezy as usual, there was nevertheless an edge hiding just underneath the surface. And while the death beam loomed large in the minds of all three players, it was impossible to consider disobedience as an option.

Slowly, they stood, returning to their places. Now they had the time to look at it properly, the death beam was even more sinister, and Brennan and Grant both kept flicking nervous glances its way, ready to move if it looked like it was charging up again.

The Doctor, however, was focused purely on the man standing in front of them. Unbothered, Sam met his gaze like a challenge, a mischievous smile playing about his lips.

“Oh, you’ll love this one,” he said, and the screen changed. “Sam says, starting with Grant: say my name.”

Grant frowned in confusion, but answered quickly nonetheless. “Sam Reich?”

The man himself shrugged tolerantly, moving on. “Brennan?”

Brennan just stared at him coolly. “Do you take me for a fool?”

“Well caught, Brennan!” Sam said happily. “Sam says: say my name.”

“Sam,” Brennan replied, suspicion clear in his voice. “Samuel Dalton Reich.”

He nodded, still with a hint of indifference. “And lastly, Doctor.” His smile broadened. “Sam says: say my name.”

It was easy. Too easy. And as the Doctor looked into the eyes of the man calling himself Sam Reich, he felt his hearts stutter in recognition, because something had changed. He wasn’t hiding himself anymore, and while the face was different yet again, the Doctor would know the shape of that soul anywhere. It was impossible. It was inevitable.

“You can’t be,” he breathed.

Sam smirked, leaning in across his podium. “Oh, but Doctor… I’ve been here the whole time,” he stage-whispered with a wink.

“He said you lost,” the Doctor said, shaking his head, looking wrong-footed for the first time that Brennan and Grant could recall. “You lost, and he trapped you.”

The other two watched, uncomprehending, but Sam just smiled, drumming his fingers against the podium with an audible beat, fast but distinct. Four taps, four taps, four taps. “I’m waiting.”

The Doctor took a slow, deep breath. Set his jaw.

“Master.”

---

missed an installment of the game master cinematic universe?

original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x

art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x

writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): x part three (sam says 4): you are here!

#game master #sam reich!master #doctor who #dw #dropout #game changer #you know what let's chuck some character tags in here #15th doctor #the master #sam reich #brennan lee mulligan #grant o'brien #kaylin mahoney #clari speaks #clari writes #ah darlings i'm putting my chat down here rather than in the post body for once #so i've thought of this whole saga as 'part three' but i will be a) titling them all and b) just keeping on numbering the parts sequentiall #rather than 'part three part one' etc #otherwise we're getting into homestuck act titling territory and that is ground i do not wish to tread #also fuck i hope i've got the time zones right #i'm planning to post this when an episode of game changer would ordinarily be released. to plug the gap. to tide us over.#(the finale trailer is so delightfully unhinged and i cannot wait til next week)#anyway gang this one was wild #the slight but significant genre shift from 'game changer with doctor who elements' to 'doctor who with game changer elements'#it was fun to write! and hopefully fun to read :)#also i MUST say that eugene northernfireart has a baller comic in the works that this entire thing is based on #this is thousands of words of setup and continuation because the sketch idea was so good it possessed me #and we decided that it had to be a proper dw episode #(hey rtd hire me pls)#anyway eugene is on hiatus bc of life so in the meantime go give him love and be Fuckin Hyped for the comic when it appears bc i know i am

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 3 months ago

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Miraculous vs The Power of Love

I've written several posts where I talked about Miraculous' poor use of the power of love trope and how that massively turned me off to canon. Three strikes and you're out! When this topic comes up I usually bring up Adrien and only Adrien. This has led to some anger at the fact that I didn't mention love failing anyone else as it absolutely has. I've also seen some anger over my desire for Adrien to defeat Gabriel's control and win the day since Adrien is a victim and that means that it's perfectly fine if he fails to beat his father's control no matter what the consequences of that failure are. After all, the failure isn't really on Adrien. It's on Gabriel. A sentiment I understand, but don't agree with since this is a writing blog. I'm discussing the message the writing is sending not which character gets the in-universe blame.

I'm not going to change how I discuss this topic since it is my honest opinion, but I can explain that opinion in depth to hopefully save us all from miscommunication! That's why I'm making this post! It addresses all of the above. I'll be linking to this whenever the topic comes up so that I can include some nuance without having to go into all of the detail I'm about to go into because - as you'll see - this is a long one which is why I don't go into this depth in other posts. It would just totally derail them. I'm also not going to go into the deconstruction aspect of things here because this is already really long, but I do have a post on that for even more nuance!

If you disagree with any of this, that's totally fine! I just ask that you keep the your counter arguments civil. Remember, we're talking about a badly written kids show that none of us have the power to change and the magical power of love isn't real so it doesn't actually matter if I'm right about this. Nor is Adrien going to thank you for coming to his aid. He doesn't exist and, as always, my issue is not him as a person. My issue is the way the narrative uses him as a storytelling tool.

What Is the Power of Love?

The power of love is a trope where either platonic or romantic love saves the hero from some type of conflict or upsetting situation. It's a rather broad trope that can be used in conflicts of any size, but even TV tropes acknowledges that it's primarily "applied in dire situations to make things better. In fact, in many Disney movies it's the solution to everything." That definition is how I approach the power of love.

To put it more bluntly, unless we're talking about a specific example, when I say "the power of love" I am thinking of a story's climax or, in the case of something like a multi-season show, one of the climaxes. More specifically, I'm thinking of the lyrics to one of my favorite cheesy pop songs:

There comes a time When you face the toughest of fights Searching for a sign Lost in the darkest of nights The wind blows so cold Standing alone Before the battle's begun But deep in your soul The future unfolds As bright as the rays of the sun You've got to believe In the power of love

If it's not the toughest of fights or the darkest of nights, then the power of love failing may disappoint me, but I don't consider it an unforgivable sin. In some cases, I'd even be disappointed if the power of love was brought in before the climax! The power of love is the ultimate cheesy move so it makes sense to save it for the last minute if using it earlier would lessen or even ruin that last minute epic save.

To show what I mean, let's talk about another trope that Miraculous has failed to use well, but that doesn't ruin the show for me. A trope that has led the show to do the exact thing we just discussed: ignore a small moment when love should have won to allow for a bigger win when all hope seems lost.

The Evil Clone Thing

[Image description: the Buzz and Woody meme with the words "Evil Clones. Evil Clones Everywhere"]

There have been an absurd number of episodes where the evil clone/evil twin trope came into play, but the three big ones are Ladybug, Optigami, and the season four final. In each of these episodes, we see a good character replaced by an identical evil version. We also see the good character's love interest fail to recognize that their crush/romantic partner has been replaced. That means that all three of these episodes see the power of romantic love failing. We also don't see a more platonic version of love show up to save the day.

The worst of these episode is the season four final where Marinette doesn't recognize that Felix has taken Adrien's place. That deception is how Gabriel steals the miraculous so it's obviously a pretty big deal and can be argued as a major fail for the power of love. I don't disagree. I think that Marinette's love should have let her see through the lies and dislike that the writers took this route to make her lose. However, I don't have this on my list of moments when the power of love needed to win for the story to work.

While Marinette failing to recognize Felix leads to her darkest hour, it does not happen in her darkest hour. Her darkest hour comes when she actually loses the miraculous which happens in a completely different scene from the one where she's deceived. It's also worth noting that Felix is not present in this moment of loss so there was no opportunity for the power of love to pull off a last minute win.

The loss of the miraculous leads to a scene where Ladybug is sitting alone in the rain, ready to give up all hope. And what happens next?

[Image description: Chat Noir standing in the rain, smiling, holding out his hand to Ladybug]

Chat Noir shows up to reignite Ladybug's will to fight via his love and support. She takes his hand, he draws her into a hug, and they stand together as one, ready to once again face their enemy:

Cat Noir: We're gonna get them back one by one…until the very last. And we'll make sure this never happens again. Ladybug: You...and me? Cat Noir: You, the best superhero there ever was... and me, your loyal partner.

A lot of people love this scene and it led to some major hype for season five which means that it's time to quote some more of that cheesy song that I brought up at the start:

Stand by my side There's nothing to hide Together we'll fight to the end Take hold of my hand And you'll understand What it truly means to be friends You've got to believe (you've got to believe) In the power of love

While I don't love the season four final, it is a B-tier execution of the thing I was talking about earlier. Canon let love fail in a small moment to increase tension and give Ladybug a "darkest night" moment. That darkest night moment then led to a semi-epic power-of-love comeback that understandably got a lot of fans super excited for season five because they assumed that it was going to be the season of Ladynoir. In other words, for a lot of fans, the power of love did its job in the season four final!

All of this is why I don't bring up Marinette when I talk about the power of love failing. It does fail her, but not in her darkest nights and toughest fights. Any time she's overwhelmed and ready to give up all hope, someone comes along to give her the will to fight on. That person is usually Chat Noir because he's her end game love interest so of course the writers use him! His "you and me against the world" moments may not be the most epic example of the power of love winning, but they are the power of love winning, so saying that the power of love fails Marinette feels like an overstatement of harm. She's never had a total loss.

The closest we get to Marinette truly losing is the season five final. That episode feels like an ultimate-level failure to many of us, on par with Ephemeral, but the writers clearly don't agree. For them, season five had a happy ending which makes critiquing that final fight tricky. I'll be arguing that Adrien lost hard in the next section, but I can't say the same for Marinette and this section is about her so let's focus on that for now.

No matter how much I hate the final, I can't look at the picture below this paragraph and argue that love failed Marinette because what did losing cost her? This isn't the season four final where she genuinely suffered. This is her getting everything she's ever wanted! The miraculous are back in her hands, she won the heart of the boy she loves, and no one is actively messing with her love life anymore. That's a pretty solid win even if she didn't win the actual fight.

[Image description: Adrien and Marinette at the end of the season five final, kissing in the spot that used to house Emilie's statue.]

This is further complicated by the fact that - as written - the season five final doesn't put Marinette in a position to use the power of love. She's never given a chance to save Adrien or even just talk to him. She doesn't know that's he's in trouble, locked up in a padded cell, suffering all alone! And Adrien's love can't rally her in her darkest moment when all hope seems lost because - for the first time ever in a season final - she never got one of those! She was a badass in the final fight! No pep talk or supportive teammates necessary! She would have had a total victory if the writers hasn't made her try to talk sense to the villain or sent her Adrien's ring just so Gabriel could make the wish, further adding to the problem of this show's absolutely vile messaging around love.

In other words, lack of love isn't why Marinette loses the final fight. She loses because the writers wanted love to empower Gabriel in his darkest moment, a move the writers have the audacity to call a mutual victory. (Gross. Abusive terrorist should not get power of love moments without a massive redemption arc first. It's yet another insult to the trope. Gabriel did not deserve peace while his son goes on to suffer.)

If you think about the episodes Ladybug and Optigami you'll notice a similar problem. The power of love failed to let Chat Noir and Alya recognize that their romantic interests had been replaced, but that failure didn't lead to their ultimate defeat. It didn't even lead the villains to a minor victory! Both episodes maintain the status quo.

This doesn't mean that I like those episodes. I would rewrite both of them to let love win because they're good examples of small moments where love can win without cheapening or ruining the season's big climax. I just don't view these episodes as times when the show needed to use the power of love if it wanted to honor its chosen genre. That requirement only applies when it's a darkest night or toughest fight.

Before we move on, please note that Ladybug was the power of Adrien's love failing, yet I never mention it when I'm complaining about the power of love failing. That's because I'm never purposefully listing every time Adrien's love failed and ignoring everyone else. I'm simply listing the moments when love needed to let the heroes win because we were in one of the show's darkest hours and that is the only time when I consider the power of love a true requirement. Love can fail in small moments to increase the tension, but if love fails at the moment when all hope seems lost, then why are we even here?

There are only three episodes that get that level of criticism from me and each one had a single character whose writing infuriated me: Adrien.

Adrien vs The Power of Love

There are three episodes where Gabriel's identity is revealed and the final fight goes down. Those episodes are Chat Blanc, Ephemeral, and the season five final. In each of these episodes, Adrien suffers on a scale that no other character has had to suffer:

In Chat Blanc he is akumatized and forced to use his cataclysm to kill both his father and the love of his life, dooming him to spend eternity alone in a dead word.

In Ephemeral he is akumatized and forced to use his powers to hand the love of his life over to his father, thereby allowing Gabriel to win and rewrite reality.

In the season five final, Adrien is left alone in a jail cell, tormented by nightmares while his father dies leaving Adrien an orphan. Adrien is then told some truly colossal lies about what actually happened, leading him to believe that Gabriel scarified himself to save Ladybug's life. Since Chat Noir's usual role in fights is protecting Ladybug, this is arguably the equivalent of Adrien being told that his failure to show up killed his father. I'm not even sure if that's the wrong message because Gabriel did die from a cataclysm and Adrien would understandably blame himself for that, too, so maybe this was a way to address that without going too dark for kids and why does that argument hold water? Wtf was this trash fire of a story line???

When you compare Adrien's treatment in these episodes to something like Marinette's treatment in season four final you can hopefully see why it feels like comparing a broken arm to a mortal blow. It's not that Marinette doesn't suffer. In terms of individual moments of suffering, Marinette beats out every other character! But while she may beat Adrien in breadth, he is the clear winner in terms of depth and the only one who never gets a true power of love moment.

Marinette's darkest nights and toughest fights ultimately work out so that she can go on to some new type of suffering, the old suffering fading away to nothing more than memory. Adrien's darkest nights and toughest fights lead to loss and suffering for which there is no cure other than rewinding time or rewriting reality. The season five final even has Adrien directly state that he's not worthy of Marinette's love:

Adrien: I'm not in my right mind. I'm too angry — at myself for falling short of Marinette's love, at my father for sending me here in London, at this stupid app and these rings that use my image... it makes me sick! This nightmare is giving me the horrible feeling that, if I transform, I'll get akumatized and destroy everything with my Cataclysm — Marinette, Ladybug... (Takes off the ring and hands it to Plagg.) Plagg: Surely Ladybug can help you. Adrien: If I ask her for help, I'd have to give her information that would jeopardize my secret identity... and I can't.

This is literally Adrien's last scene in the main story line. He doesn't show up again until the happily ever after epilogue where he and Marinette kiss. In other words, the show had Adrien directly state that he's unworthy of Marinette's love and then did nothing to counter that statement. I guess this poor unfortunate soul is just lucky that Marinette likes him enough to keep him around in spite of his many failings...

Writers, seriously, what the hell are you doing? This is the kind of dialogue that should lead into a power of love moment! How is thinking about Marinette leading Adrien to despair instead of strength? Why is Plagg just accepting this? Plagg is a magical being who was assigned to watch over Adrien. Shouldn't a character like that help Adrien rally in his darkest night? Where's Adrien's you and me against the world pep talk? That should go both ways!!! Have him break out, call Ladybug to tell her that he's not coming, only for her to rally him so he comes and at least fights outside in the city while she does her solo fight! Don't leave him alone to rot while almost every other character in the freaking show gets to fight!

It would be one thing if Adrien gave up because he was alone and scared, but Plagg is there and the writers directly bring up Marinette and love only to do nothing to show those as positive forces in Adrien's life!!! Instead, Marinette is the thing that keeps him from the fight because Adrien's nightmare is him getting akumatized and killing Marinette even though Adrien knows nothing about Chat Blanc.

[Image description: Adrien's nightmare where he's a blue haired version of Chat Blanc, holding Marinette's body in his arms having killed her with a cataclysm]

To be clear, in each of the three episodes I listed above, Adrien is undeniably a victim suffering at the hands of his main abuser. They're also some of the worst moments of abuse in the entire show. It would be perfectly reasonable for a real life person to give into despair if they were put into this situation, but real life people don't transform into magical cat boys who wield the raw power of Destruction. I was not looking for realism here. I was looking for hope and inspiration!

I wanted to see Adrien win! I wanted his love for Marinette and/or his friends to give him the strength to overpower his father's control because that's what the power of love is all about! When all hope seems lost, it's there to let the hero win because love is stronger than despair, hatred, fear, and magical remote controls! It is the bright light that blasts away the darkness in your darkest night! Unless your name is Adrien Agreste, then no love for you! Suffer, feather boy, suffer!

Example of what I wanted from canon

There are many ways to fix these three episodes so love wins, but to keep this simple let's focus on Chat Blanc and what the power of love winning might look like if we let canon play unchanged up until the moment where Adrien loses control of his powers:

Hawk Moth: Cat Blanc, I'm giving you the infinite power of destruction!! Together, you and I will seize Ladybug's Miraculous and awaken your mother!!! Obey!!! Cat Noir: (tries to fight back but fails) I'm sorry, Ladybug! (He succumbs his akumatization and transforms into Cat Blanc. Ladybug watches in horror at his transformation.) Hawk Moth: Seize her Miraculous, My Son!!! (Cat Blanc lifts his right arm to Ladybug, activating Mega Cataclysm.) Ladybug: No, Adrien! You have to resist!! (Cat Blanc whimpers as he changes his mind and points his arm to Hawk Moth.) Hawk Moth: How dare you!? Not me, Adrien!! Cat Blanc: (whimpering while looking to both of them) I... I don't know what to do!!!!!!

Instead of having the mega cataclysm go off here, we instead see this: Ladybug and Hawk Moth both realize that Chat Blanc is incapable of listening to either of them. Hawk Moth's reaction is to turn and run away, desperate to save himself. Ladybug's reaction is to run to her boyfriend's side, not caring about the danger. She wraps her arms around him, closes her eyes, and tells him that it's okay. That she's here and she loves him and she'll stay here and love him no matter what. It doesn't matter who his father is, it's still him and her against the world now and forever.

The more she talks, the weaker the mega cataclysm grows. By the time she makes her final vow, the mega cataclysm is little more than a flickering glow. A black clad hand touches both of her hair ties, disintegrating them, leaving her hair to fall free around her face since that was a thing in this episode. The minor wardrobe change makes her pull back and look at her boyfriend to see that he's back to Chat Noir, a purified akumas fluttering off in the distance. Chat Noir is crying, clearly distraught, but he's himself again because Marinette's presence allowed him to focus on her love over his father's poison. They won. Love won. Fear and abuse lost.

The couple embraces. Hawk Moth's big gambit failed and they now know his identity so the fight is almost over. Paris will soon be free.

From there you can have an epic battle with the temp holders where the butterfly and the peacock are recovered. Nino gets to punch Gabriel in the face a dozen times or so as a treat and Adrien gets to cuddle up with some treats, sitting the fight out since he's already done his part by surviving the reveal of his father's identity.

You could also have Gabriel just give up because he doesn't have any moves left and the full implications of what he did are smacking him in the face, sapping him of the will to fight. Anything that lets this asshole suffer is fine by me! Emilie's fate is up to you. I like to make her at least semi-decent and revive her to give Adrien a happier ending and Gabriel the horror of divorce papers, but that's just me.

Final Thoughts

As I said at the top, I'm going to continue to complain about the way that Adrien was written in these episodes. I don't consider his victim status a reasonable excuse for the way these episodes played out. If anything, his victim status is an even bigger black mark against the writing!

I come to family-oriented media for hope and happy endings! I want stories about victims being empowered! I want Gabriel's controlling nature to totally backfire on him and not in a mutually-assured-destruction way like we saw in Chat Blanc. I want Gabriel's choice to cost him everything and for him to suffer that loss for the rest of his life while Adrien gets endless love and support, allowing him to survive the reveal and go on to live a happy life. If that's not what you're selling, then I'm not buying thus me giving up on canon after the season five final. There's just no coming back from that kind of colossal writing failure.

I will try to remember to use the word "forced" when describing the problems (as in "forced to kill"), but that's the only thing I can change while still sharing my honest opinion since my main problem with these episodes isn't Gabriel's treatment of Adrien. While I don't like how far these episodes took Gabriel, you don't need to rewrite him to make the episodes work. It doesn't matter how far the writing takes Gabriel, he should never be able to successfully manipulate Adrien while threatening Adrien's supposed True Love.

As soon as Adrien knows that Marinette/Ladybug is in danger, it should be game over for Gabriel because love is supposed to be stronger than all of the awful things that Gabriel has done up to and including the sentimonster crap. In fact, the sentimonster crap just makes it even more important for Adrien to win! Gabriel should think he has victory in the bag because he views Adrien as a perfect doll, but love proves Gabriel wrong letting Adrien overpower his amok and win. The trope is called "love conquers all" not "love conquers the mildly inconvenient." The more dire the straits, the more important the win!

Unfortunately, that's not the message Miraculous is sending. By letting Adrien give into his father's control in the show's darkest hours, the message is that Gabriel's control is stronger than love. That Adrien will never be free. That he was Gabriel's perfect doll and you were silly if you ever expected him to be more than that. That's not a message that I'm that ever going to agree with and is yet another reason why I only bring up Adrien + these three episodes when I talk about the power of love failing.

You are never going to convince me that Adrien being allowed to give into despair was a good thing unless you pair that argument with some major changes to canon like love square not being together and/or Adrien not knowing that his actions would endanger Marinette. Even then you need to design that fix in a way that ultimately allows Adrien to win otherwise you are sending a terrible message to the audience. There should never be a scenario where the final battle ends the way canon had it end.

Gabriel is the show's big bad, Adrien is his main victim, and the theme of their relationship has been control. That means that, when it comes to the final fight with Gabriel, Adrien needs to be involved in a way that gives him agency. I'm not saying he needs to fight his father on his own or even at all! I'm okay with him sitting out the fight so long as you pair it with something big like Adrien being the one to learn Gabriel's identity or something more dramatic like my simple Chat Blanc fix.

However, Adrien sitting out only works if it's his own, freely-made choice. As soon as you pair it with something like magic nightmare dust you are once again sending the message that Gabriel's control is the strongest force in Adrien's life. I truly don't understand how anyone can embrace that message and call it good, especially when canon didn't ultimately do something positive with it like letting Adrien become stronger as time went on. He actually got weaker as the show went on!

Chat Blanc saw everyone lose because Adrien was able to at least try to fight back, denying his father total victory. Ephemeral saw none of that fighting spirit and Gabriel just outright won. Season five once again saw Gabriel win only, this time, the show didn't even let Adrien be part of the fight. What an uplifting character arc for Adrien! (That was sarcasm.) Play the episodes in reverse order and you might actually have something if you add a fourth one where he finally wins!

If you want to talk about more minor conflicts where the power of love should have won then I'm happy to do that! Canon has lots of options to pick from! But unless you specify that you want to talk about something minor, these three episodes are going to be my only examples of the power of love failing because they are the only times when love completely failed the character in question. Total loss, no silver lining, writers wtf are you doing?

Listing times when love failed Marinette or Alya in the same list as these three episodes just feels insulting to Adrien unless the context is something like a list ranking the failures from smallest to largest. I'll once again point out that I don't even list the other times when love failed Adrien because my issue isn't Adrien as a person. My issue is Adrien as a tool of the narrative and the asinine message that the Agreste arc sends to the young children this show is aimed at. I wouldn't even be okay with this in a show aimed at adults unless it was clearly marketed as a grimdark take on superheroes. Miraculous should not feel like a kiddiefied version of The Boys and yet here we are.

Why was Adrien granted magical powers and allowed to fight his controlling father for five seasons if Gabriel was just going to die without Adrien getting a decisive victory? Why focus season five on Gabriel controlling Adrien to such an extreme if Adrien was never going to be allowed to break free? Why make Adrien the main love interest and focus the entire show on romantic love if you don't have anything positive to say about romantic love? Why bother getting the love square together before every single final showdown in the freaking show if their relationship status was going to mean nothing? Where is my power of love always so strong?

(Btw, that song I kept quoting is from the original English dub soundtrack to Sailor Moon R - The Promise of the Rose. It plays as love and friendship save the planet Earth from an asteroid. The updated dub replaced the song with the original Japanese soundtrack and the comments are full of people complaining about the change because the song just takes this scene to the next level! I bring this up because Sailor Moon set many people's standards for the magical girl team show genre that Miraculous is clearly taking inspiration from, but failing to fully embrace. If you don't want love and friendship to be on par with nuclear weapons and asteroid attacks, then don't write a show about love and magic aimed at kids.)

#ml writing critical #ml writing salt #power of love #adrien deserves better #reference #Fingers crossed that this goes over well #Hopefully now my brain will stop obsessing over this and we can go back to business as normal #Since trying to just stop thinking about it wasn't doing the trick #Fly free my little post! The fate of the blog rests in your hands!#I'd say that you hold my sanity's fate too but that's long gone so let's not overstate your mission.#Special thanks to my partner for listening to me read this from start to finish multiple times as I obsessed over the wording #Fun fact: I read around 10 love and friendship books over my brief break #They just stoked my rage over how badly Miraculous does this trope #How dare you spit in the face of my comfort food trope!!!!!!!!#Especially when it's such an easy trope to get right #We're talking about the power of love here not a successful strategy for winning a land war in Asia

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