#I always wished I looked like him when I was younger. all edge

[siconetribal]

Put it on My Tab 14

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!reader

Warning:

Working with customers, rude customer, that stressful work life is all the rage these days

A/N:

Please comment/like/reblog. If you’d like to be tagged moving forward, please let me know!

As always, a huge thank you and shout out to @harlequin-hangout for the amazing banners you made for me.

If you’re new to the story, please check out the master post for the rest of the chapters.

“I can help the next customer in line over here!” Y/N shouted over the din of the teenagers that came flooding in after school. It was a mix of private school uniforms and fashionable public school students flaunting their name brand accessories and latest phones. It really was a marvel to see how carelessly they would just flash their parents’ money as if it was their own hard earned pay. “Next customer in line, please.” She spoke a little louder and watched as a rather quiet but handsome looking teenager walked up. It was obvious that his clothing was well made, tailored to fit him, but it lacked the flashy logos that everyone else was wearing. A public school kid? He looks like he’s a couple years younger than me. A senior perhaps? “Welcome, what would you like for me to get started for you today?” She cordially asked, though once again, there was something about him. Just like the young detective, she felt like she needed to be cautious.

“A large cup black eye with ristretto, light sugar, and a bear claw.” 

“Did you want me to exchange the espresso with the ristretto or did you want me to add it with the espresso?” She hesitantly questioned, eyeing him a bit suspiciously. There was no sign of major fatigue aside from the slight bags under his lids. It was not uncommon to see some exhausted seniors who diligently worked to keep their top marks, but there was an edge to him. His gaze was not hazy from exhaustion. On the contrary it was sharp, too sharp.

“Add it to the drink and warm the pastry, please.” He pulled out his wallet and waited for her to ring him up.

A lot more crazy coffee drinkers on this side of Gotham than I originally thought. She hesitated for a moment before pressing the necessary buttons on the screen. “For here or to go?”

“Here.”

“The name for the order?”

“Tim.”

“Ok, your total comes out to $11.48, will you be paying cash or card?”

“Cash,” he quickly pulled out a $20 bill and handed it to her. The drawer sprung open with a ring and she handed him the change as she closed it.

“Please have a seat, we’ll call your name when your order is ready.” She gave him another cordial smile, waiting for him to move so the next customer could come up, but the young man called Tim did not budge. An awkward silence stretched between the two of them as he simply silently stared at her. “Is there anything else you need?”

“No, thanks.” He shook his head and dropped the change in the jar in front of her and left. Citlalli came over from her right, watching Tim as he sat down.

“Everything ok?” She whispered to Y/N who moved over to start his order.

“Yeah, we’ve dealt with much weirder things.” She shrugged it off to help ignore the sense of unease Tim gave her.

“True, but he was just standing there, staring at you.” She frowned, scanning the dining area quickly to see Tim watching them. “And he’s still watching you.”

“He’s probably thinking about what else he might want to order. Customers do it all the time, ordering one thing only to consider adding something else after the fact.” Y/N casually brushed it off. “You’re thinking too much about it, he’s just an overly caffeinated burnt out studious senior wishing for the school year to end already.”

“I guess,” Citlalli bit into her lower lip as concern for the safety of her dear friend doubled with her current streak of luck. “If he gives you any trouble, oi! Look at me, mija!” She grabbed Y/N’s face, squishing her cheeks while making her look at her. “You tell me right away. I'll have his ass kicked out at full speed!” She snapped her fingers after relinquishing Y/N’s face. “You've been through enough between that bill, my dumbass cousin, and the sudden midnight order that broke the window. Let me help where I can.”

“Thanks, Cici, I will, I promise. He's just like any other awkward teen trying to get out of high school that would pay big money for a coffee IV drip and I'm going to treat him as such. If he pulls any funny business, you'll be the first to know.” Y/N gently squeezed one of Citlalli’s shoulders before returning her attention to complete the order and call out to him for pick up. 

The next few customers were of the usual variety, a majority of them ordering the sugar loaded ice blended drinks regardless of how cold some of the days have been. It was the technical orders with the highly detailed instructions that irked her. 

If they think this is so easy to do, why don't they just go home and make it themselves? If I ever find out who came to with this ridiculous and disgusting sounding flavor combo, I'll throttle ‘em! She shared frustrated looks with her fellow baristas. It was clear that this drink would be burning through some of their supplies quickly. 

When the fruity whipped up topping heavy blended drinks were completed, they were placed out for pick up by her coworker while Y/N went back to the register.

Tim quietly watched his person of interest deal with the complex orders and demanding customers. The smile plastered on her face the entire time was an impressive feat. One obnoxious customer was one too many in his opinion, but there was nothing that he could do and he knew any retaliation on her end would lead to disciplinary actions against her. She was responsible, respectful, and resilient; but none of this information got him any closer to solving the mystery that was her. 

The customer is always right, like hell they are. He rolled his eyes at the passing thought. She’s smart, but is it enough to grab attention? What did she do with the ‘tip’ Dick gave her? Why did he think to give her that? What am I missing? He knows her, somehow. I need to figure out how. He finished the last of his order and stood up, tossing his trash and quietly leaving the establishment. He would need to observe her for longer and possibly try to gain some insight from the other customers and staff. 

The daytime quickly became dark, the days slowly growing shorter as autumn progressed. The number of customers dwindled down as the evening hours struck. There were still a few lingering customers with their laptops, typing away. The loyalty customers occasionally came to the counter for the complimentary refill on regular coffee while the non-rewards customers ordered something different each time. Citlalli had gone home for the evening and soon it was simply Y/N and two other baristas as a few late night customers came in.

“Hello, what would you like to order?” Y/N smiled at the older woman. Much like all the other customers, she was well dressed and carried a designer bag. Her long sharp acrylics were clicking and tapping against every surface she touched as she looked through the large bag for something. Finding whatever it was, she kept her hand inside to hold whatever it was.

“Hi, I would like to order a medium iced mocha macchiato with almond milk and an extra shot of espresso. Have the mocha drizzle divided equally in the bottom and on top of the foam, with light ice. Add 3 pumps of caramel syrup, 2 pumps of toffee nut syrup, and a sprinkle of cinnamon on top. Serve it in a grande cup with a separate cup of ice on the side and a packet of sweetner.” She kindly smiled back after quickly running through the instructions. Any relief Y/N had felt froze up in her veins at the complex order that was thrown at her.

“I’m sorry, could you please repeat that a little slower? I want to make sure I have it down correctly.” The older woman pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “Thank you for your understanding in wanting to make sure your specific drink is made exactly as you ordered.” Y/N added for good measure. It seemed to do the trick as she nodded and slowly repeated the overly complicated order slower. Y/N read it back to her for verification before ringing out the order. “You can have a seat, we’ll call you when your order is ready, Susan. Thank you, again, for being a loyal customer.” She added, this was something their boss insisted they say to reward members. 

“Ah, ah, I’m not done just yet!” Susan pulled out her hidden hand which held one of their decorative cups. “I bought this from your store and last time I was here I couldn’t help bit notice the little shelf over here.” She pointed to her left.

“Ah, yes, that is our discount shelf. Anything on that shelf is 30 to 40% off.”

“Exactly, and this thermos is on that shelf. You can see it on the second shelf towards the left over there.” Y/N leaned over to rhe left a bit to get a better view from the register before nodding her head.

“Looks like it’s there, so yes, it’s on sale now. Did you want to buy another one?” She offered, though she was not entirely sure why Susan brought her thermos. “Oh, did you want your drink made in your cup?”

“No, well yes, but that’s not why I’m bringing this up.”

“No, you didn't want to buy or no, don't use the cup?” Y/N frowned, unsure which answer went to which question.

“No, I do not want to buy another one. Yes, put my drink in here. The reason I am talkimg about this is because I am upset. When I bought this thermos, I paid full price.” Y/N silently stared at Susan for a few seconds, unsure where this was even going as she took the cup and placed it with the ticket for use.

“Yes, because it was full price when you purchased it.’

“Do you see the issue here?”

“No, I do not. What is the issue?”

“Well, why is it on sale now?”

“We’re clearing out the overstock we have of those designs to make room for new designs.” She calmly explained.

“Ok, the problem is that I paid full price for a product that you’re get it rid of anyway.”

“Well, this sale started a week ago. This style thermos was brand new or one of the newer products when you bought it, so it was not on sale. If you bought this cup anytime prior to a week ago, you would have paid full price..”

“Exactly, you see how this is discriminatory, right?”

“Driscriminatory,” she repeated the word and watched Susan nodd her head excitedly. “How?”

“Yes, you can see how this is discriminating against customers, like myself, who bought this before the sale!” She eagerly explained.

“Uh, no, you just happened to buy it before it was put on sale. We don't have control over which tumbler or thermos will sell out or not. This particular design had a few items left, so they are now on sale.”

“Ok, here is the cup and here is my receipt.” Susan continued to push through, ignoring everything that Y/N was explaining to her. “I would greatly appreciate it if you gave me the difference of the discount in cash.” She held out the thermal sheet of paper. Y/N took the slip, checking the date to see if there was something that could be done. 

“Firstly, this was charged on a card. If I were to refund the difference, it would go back onto your card. That can't be done though, because you purchased this three months ago. This is proof that you did and are ineligible for a refund of the difference due to the current sale that has been placed three months after your purchase.” 

“And why not?!” Susan snapped as she became more and more irate as the conversation went on.

If you listened to a single word I’ve said thus far instead of soewing your tosic stupidity all over the place, maybe you’d already know the answer! “Because you bought it three months before the sale.”

“Young lady, this is completely unfair! If you were going to put it on sale, you should’ve never put it at full price! This is robbery! I am due proper compensation for such poor financial etiquette and discrimination!” Her voice grew shrill as she raised it. All Y/N wanted to do was slap a piece of tape over the brighgly colored lips of the annoying customer and chuck the troublesome cup out the door with her.

“The only thing I am allowed to do is offer you another one at the discounted price. I cannot do anything else.”

“This is the most horrid customer service I have ever had in my life! How can you just stand there and deny a loyal paying customer what they want?! Where is your manager, I demand to speak with them!”

“I am the acting manager at this time.”Lucky me-not! “Even if I weren’t, the manager would have said the very same thing.”

“All you little brats act as a manager when it’s conveninet to you! I swear, this generation is nothing but trouble, full of disrespect, and lying! I want to speak with the owner, Donavan, yes I do know him.” She smugly smirked.

“Mr. D is not in at this moment. He left for the evening two hours ago and will be back tomorrow. You’re welcomed to come back at that time and speak with him.” Y/N flatly answered.

“No, call him now.” she slammed her manicured hand onto the counter, scaring some of the other customers and the other barista. A throbbing pain started to grow at Y/N’s temples as she took a few moments to keep her cool and not risk her job with a harsh response.

“Why don’t you call him? Since you say you know him so well, call him. Let him know that you’re harrassing his employee for doing her job and following his rules implemented in his establishment.” A calm male voice called out from the end of the line. Everyone turned to find the owner, only to see a tall and strong looking biker with a helmet. He stepped forward others made room for him. Pulling off his helmet, Y/N’s jaw fell open from shock at seeing Jason standing there.

He rides a motorcycle?! Of course he does! Wait, that’s not important! He’s going to cause trouble if this crazy lady actually calls Mr. D! Before she could try to de-escelate the situation, Jason turned so his back was to the register as he looked down at the rowdy customer. Y/N watched Susan’s face go from angry red to a blush pink the moment she laid eyes on the handsome young man. Straightening up her posture and adjusting her clothing, she turned to face Jason.

“I know how this might look just walking in, but she has been quite insolent this entire time. I am merely trying to teach her her place.” Her voice was calmer, sweeter, thick like molasses kind of sweet over a honeyed tone.

“Not from what I’ve seen since you walked up here. Did you forget you nearly hit a biker with your car and cursed them out? Hi, that biker was me. Now, get your drink and sit quietly or leave, or you can call the owner and he can check the CC footage to see what happened. You pick,” he calmly repeated. Y/N was not able to see the look in his eyes, but she could tell from the way Susan’s face paled that he was very intimidating. She quickly gathered her things, snatching the receipt as she hurried away to wait for her drink.

“Thanks for the help. I’m sorry you had to step in like that.” The genuine smile of relief she gave him was a direct shot to his heart, and the vigilante was none the wiser why. It injected warmth into his veins and filled his chest with immeasurable pride.

“Don’t mention it, I told you, I save damsels in distress. You just happen to be in distress more often than most.” He smirked and winked at her, earning an eye roll in response. “I’ll have to insist you clock out for the rest of the day though. You look exhausted and after all of that, you deserve a free night at the least.”

“Go on, Y/N. I’ll handle her drink. We told Cici already and she said to just clock out for the shift. She’s on her way now.” A coworker nudged her towards the back. “Don't keep your boyfriend waiting!”

“Yeah, you've covered enough of our shifts, go have fun!” The other joined in, ushering her through the back doors without giving her a chance to explain that they were not together like that. All she could do was sigh in defeat as she headed to the staff room to clock out and grab her things. This was a misunderstanding that could easily be fixed next time.

Returning to the front of the store, she avoided lengthy eye contact with her coworkers who were clearly having too much fun with this turn of events. One kept wiggling their eyebrows while the other was a fit of giggles. “C’mon Wonder Boy, let's go.” She grabbed his arm and led him back out the doors.

Tag: @vbecker10 @wordsfromshona @harlequin-hangout @harpy-space @tild3ath @gone-batty-fics @princessbl0ss0m @dakotali @antiquecultist

[brown-little-robin]

*opens my locket* this is him: my son

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

we can dip if you’re ready ; satoru gojo

synopsis; your dreams of a peaceful summer are rudely shattered by the presence of your best friend’s older brother; the same brother who rejected you five years ago. the same brother you’re still hopelessly, uselessly in love with.

word count; 7.4k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, best friend’s brother!gojo (he’s the hottest man in the stratosphere imo), mild age gap (four years!), unrequited love, but with a hopeful ending kind of, bittersweet fluff, mostly summer shenanigans and pining, riko is satoru’s younger sister and i would give her the stars, sugu makes a guest appearance, (they’re both just there to bully gojo), he’s fairly mature in this i think, reader is very stubborn and very down bad, [name] is used exactly once

a/n; personally i would let him use me as workout gear (tagging @teddybeartoji @dollsuguru @hayakawalove @stellamancer @vagabond-umlaut !! tysm for the help and encouragement ily 🥺🥺)

one mellow summer morning, over a breakfast of pancake and toast, the puppy-love you’ve nurtured for the past three years finally reaches its conclusion.

you’re seventeen years old. in three months you’ll be eighteen, standing on your own two feet, headed in a new direction — the whole world within your reach. but right now you’re still only seventeen, and lovesick, and sleeping on a mattress in your best friend’s room. listening to the sound of the nearby sea. 

you’re seventeen, and dreaming about things you can’t have. you’re seventeen, and foolishly wearing your heart on your sleeve. 

you’re seventeen, and hopelessly, uselessly in love with a certain satoru gojo.

it’s early. your veins are sleepy and your heart is heavy, and you wake up at the crack of dawn just to catch a glimpse of him before he leaves for work. he’s leaning against the kitchen island when you trot down the stairs, and the smell of syrupy pancakes hangs heavy in the air; his bare chest is exposed, pajama pants clinging to the curve of his hips, and he rejects you with an easygoing kindness you wish he wouldn’t grant you.

”you’re more like a younger sibling to me. you understand, right?”

(suddenly, without mercy; a finality to his voice.)

he ruffles your hair, and you’re still sleepy, and you wish you could grasp the strings of your heartbeat to stop it from fluttering like this. wish you could pull yourself out of whatever trance he put you in, all those years ago, when you stumbled over the threshold to your best friend’s house and crashed headfirst into his chest.

”you’re a good kid,” he says, and his smile teeters on the edge of something apologetic. mostly, it’s pitying. ”there are lots of people out there for you.”

he ruffles your hair, as affectionate as ever, the same as it’s always been. not a trace of any romantic intent. the weight of his palm on your head is usually a comfort, but like this?

it’s a specific kind of torture. 

there are lots of people out there for you.

(i know, you want to tell him, but your voice is raspy and your throat feels sort of dry. i know.

but i want you.)

“don’t get hung up on a schoolgirl crush, hm?”

when you finally raise your head, satoru is looking right at you. kindly, patiently, like a benevolent god. his blue eyes flecked with dots of white, like fluffy clouds on a summer sky. tilting his head to the right, as if searching for confirmation, waiting for your response. you muster up the will to nod; smiling in a way that must seem pitiful.

but he just pinches your cheek, throws a backpack over his broad shoulders, and asks you to let his sister know he’ll be home later than usual today.

then he leaves. he leaves you alone with two plates of sugary pancakes on the kitchen table, one for you and one for riko. he put whipped cream on top, and chocolate chips in the batter. it smells good. it smells like an apology.

and that’s how it ends. 

there’s no great climax, no real resolution. you bite down on your lip, and spend about an hour pitifully sniffling into a fluffy pillow, even though none of it comes as a surprise. it still hurts, though. your best friend comforts you, tells you that at least you have some kind of closure now — an absolute rejection to make your feelings go away. about time, she thinks, though she’s far too kind to say it outloud.

except they don’t.

the moral of the story is: satoru gojo doesn’t love you back. he’s known you since you were fourteen, since he was eighteen, and he could never see you as anything more than a little kid. you’re his sister’s best friend, and he loves you, but not in the way you love him. it’s not surprising, or shocking. it’s exactly how it should be.

satoru gojo doesn’t love you back. he never will.

(you really, really wish your stupid heartbeat cared.)

one breezy summer evening, five years later, you step onto a bustling train platform — dragging your luggage behind you, and breathing in the scent of a familiar seaside.

above you, seagulls chatter and cry. you look around, and everything feels familiar, despite the time that’s passed since the last summer you visited. the same flowers, peach blossoms and hydrangeas and tulips in all kinds of shades, the same street vendors and aroma of freshly grilled fish. the same cute and quaint port town, quiet during winter and autumn, pleasantly noisy during the warmer seasons. right now, on the cusp of june, there are enough tourists around to make finding the right face in the crowd a difficult task.

luckily, she’s quick to find you. 

with her long, dark locks of hair, neatly braided, her yellow sundress and matching headband; sunflowers embroidered into the fabric. barreling towards you with a speed that would scare you a little if you weren’t so used to it, so used to her.

riko. your one and only best friend.

she’s nestled into your embrace before you can get any greetings out, and squeezing you so tightly that you have no choice but to let her beat you to it. she’s warm, like a bundle of sunshine. the same as always.

with a low whine of your name, she nuzzles into your chest. “i missed youuuu…”

a chuckle bubbles up in your throat. and even though it hasn’t been very long at all, even though you talk on the phone almost every day and saw each other in person just about a month ago, you indulge her.

“i missed you too, riko.”

another whine, and then she’s pulling back. squishing your cheeks together and pouting petulantly. “you better have! don’t ever make me spend summer all alone again, okay?”

”you’re still mad about that?” you match her expression, eager to protest. “it’s not my fault i got sick.”

“too sick to see your best friend? too sick to continue our most important tradition?” she shakes her head, letting go of you. struggling not to smile. “awful. just awful!”

“drama queen.” her lips break out into a grin, and yours follow. “i’m here now, aren’t i?”

“you are,” she agrees, quick to link her arm with yours. you follow her steps, leading you towards that familiar house. you can see it from here, a roof burdened with morning glories, those expensive white walls. “no, but seriously. i’m really happy to see you.” her voice drips with joy, giddy and sweet. “i don’t think i’d survive two months alone with that old man.” 

ah. right.

your lips curl up into a smile, albeit a little uncertain. giddy, maybe. nervous? you aren’t sure. something swirls around in your stomach, little butterflies. tickling the ridges of your ribs, all those fluttering heartstrings. it’s been a while since you felt like this. all your summers are spent here, and all of riko’s, but he’s usually too busy.

the girl on your right chatters on and on, clinging to you, gradually melting away your skittish nerves. she tells you about her morning, what she ate for breakfast, the new show she’s been binging — it’s just as familiar as the house that soon comes fully into view. big and expensive, but still cozy, overgrown with flora. you don’t think either of the siblings really bother to take care of it, but it’s a pretty kind of neglect. a cute veranda, a beautiful garden. the apple tree you used to climb. the buzz of an old radio spills out from an opened window, translucent curtains swaying with the breeze. when you strain your eyes you think you hear humming.

riko grins, dragging you with her through the opened gate. the yellow paint on the fence is starting to peel, and someone from inside has started pushing the door open, and the butterflies in your stomach can do nothing but sputter and squirm.

it’s summer, and you're back. back in that cute, quaint port town.

(and so is he.)

“why, hello there! if it isn’t my cute little [name].”

time stills, for just a single moment.

he looks the same as you remember. a little taller, you think, but he was always tall enough to tower over you; broad shoulders and long legs, sharp blue eyes gazing down at you. he’s wearing black shades, but you can still feel the weight of his pupils, crumble under the knowledge that his attention is entirely on you. wearing a pair of sweatpants and a tight black shirt, showing off every dip and ridge of his chest.

a pleasantly cool breeze ruffles his white hair, short and trimmed, healthy locks to match his bright and sunny grin.

he looks happy to see you.

“don’t be weird,” comes riko’s voice, breaking you out of your little spell. all while she’s ushering you both towards the door, beyond the threshold, into the hallway. satoru clicks his tongue.

“so hostile today. shouldn't you be in a good mood?”

then he’s turning towards you, again, tilting his head just enough for his eyes to peek out. they’re crinkled at the edges, and his smile is fond. “how was your trip?”

more butterflies. his voice flows from his glossy lips, smooth and melted, pleasantly deep. you can only hang on to riko’s arm, mustering a small smile of your own.

“good,” you chirp. a little stiff, but polite, like you’re greeting an old friend; it’s been so long since you last spoke to him. ”i’m tired, though.”

your reply is met with a chuckle, a raspy tremor of his vocal cords. it sends a shiver down your spine. the weight on your arm disappears, as riko stumbles forward and kicks her sandals off. muttering something about gum getting stuck on the sole. you’re left standing right across from satoru, suddenly very aware of how much space he takes up all on his own. leaning against the wall, making himself comfortable. and chuckling, with that stupidly sexy voice. “i bet. take a nap if you need to, yeah?”

a moment of silence. riko curses in the background, and you shift from foot to foot. unable to properly look into his eyes.

for a second, his smile drops — eyes obscured by the black glass of his frames, betraying no emotion. it only lasts a second.

then he’s moving forward, one large stride towards you, leaning down to wrap his big arms around your waist. bringing you into a hug, not as tight as you remember them being. you wonder if he’s holding back.

(his touch burns your skin, all the same.)

one of his palms finds solace on the top of your head, ruffling your hair. you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks, terribly sincere.

“i missed you, kiddo.”

a quiet squeak tumbles from your lips, and you pray to every god you can think of that he doesn’t hear it. his chest is pressed right against you, firm, radiating body heat. his limbs wrap you up in it, a cocoon of warmth that makes it hard to breathe. you can smell his cologne from where your cheek meets his collarbone; sandalwood invading your senses.

“i m-missed you too,” is all you can croak out, voice breaking pitifully. at this rate you might actually faint.

just out of view, riko narrows her eyes. before you can plead for help, she’s tugging you away from the embrace, pushing her brother away, and you inhale as much of the fresh summer air as you can. 

“alright, that’s enough,” she huffs, pulling you closer. “c’mon! we should unpack your stuff right away!”

“want me to carry it?” satoru asks, already eyeing your luggage like a predator about to lunge at his prey. even if you say no, you know he’s not going to listen. 

so you let him. and within the next few minutes, you’re seated on riko’s bed, suitcase on the floor, a glass of lemonade in your hand. blinking sluggishly. 

“are you sure you’ll be alright?”

you raise your head. your best friend is looking at you with a questioning glance, head tilted and brows furrowed. now you’re all alone, and it’s quiet, peaceful. her brother went out to buy snacks for you. all you can hear is the low buzz of the radio downstairs, and faraway waves. 

“huh?”

“i mean, with, y’know…” she moves her hands haphazardly, making some kind of gesture you don’t understand. “with my brother. and your… condition.”

you blink.

“… did you just refer to my crush as a condition?”

“well, it might as well be!” she groans, muffled, faceplanting onto the mattress. “don’t think i didn’t see you checking out his biceps just now. you’re so obvious.” 

heat rushes to your cheeks. you try to shoo it away with a furrow of your brows and a loud exhale, but it lingers underneath your skin. “look — i —“ you scramble for words, brain tied up in fatigued knots. “did you see that shirt? is he buying them a size too small, or what?”

“oh, come on! that’s all it takes?”

another pair of exhales. you cross your legs, and she rolls onto her back. the silence is comfortable, and you gnaw at your bottom lip until she speaks up again.

“you could really, really do better, you know?”

her voice is quiet. soft, sincere, delicate as a sheet of glass. you know she’s just looking out for you, that she doesn’t want you pining for a guy who’ll never return those feelings — she’s kind like that, always has been. but…

“… i just like him.”

you take a tentative sip of your lemonade. sour and sweet. the cubes of ice clink against the glass, fresh condensation cooling down the tips of your fingers. her gaze lingers on your skin. it’s heavy, just like his.

you meet it with a sheepish smile, a little self-deprecating, but not embarrassed. she already knows all about your predicament. 

(you just like him. that’s all there is to it.)

and she pulls herself into a sitting position.

“i know, i know,” she finally sighs, slumping against you, cheek smushed over your shoulder. “just don’t give him more attention than me, ‘kay?”

you let out giggle. “well, duh.”

she gives you a sunny grin.

“okay, good.” 

you put the glass down on the windowsill beside you. just so you can stretch your arms out, falling backwards; a mountain of pillows cushioning your fall. a yawn spills past your lips, and riko sits up.

“wanna take a nap?” she tilts her head, dark locks framing her pretty blue eyes, deep as the sea. “that’s probably good. we’re going straight to the beach tomorrow, you know!”

“mm…” your eyes flutter shut, and you focus on that faraway sound. waves crashing against sand, the whistling of seagulls, the salty scent of the ocean. “that sounds nice.”

despite your exhaustion, you end up tossing and turning that night. not because of your best friend’s snores, or the feeling of a mattress you haven’t slept on in two years — but from the quiet sounds downstairs. glasses clinking, a chuckle here and there. the tv being turned on. tossing and turning from the knowledge that your childhood heartthrob, current heartthrob, is in the same house as you. a little older, a little less childish, even more charming than you remember him being.

you’re older, too. more mature, you like to think, even if the gain is small.

(maybe there’s a chance?)

shaking the thoughts from your head, mind still spinning along to the tune of his humming, you squeeze your eyes shut and try to fall asleep.

you’ll be okay.

okay, nevermind. you’re completely screwed.

“oh, there you are!”

satoru is already waiting up ahead when you step onto the beach, feeling the sand between your toes, a pleasantly cool breeze giving you respite from the sweltering heat.

the sun beats down on you, fervent sunlight warming the water up ahead, calm waves and a sparkling blue to match the hue of the sky; cobalts and ceruleans, melting together like watercolour on a canvas. people crowd around the food stands, shaved ice and churros and grilled fish, scents mingling together with the joyous chatter all around you. vibrant sensations, enough to excite but not to overwhelm. 

a picture-perfect summer day.

your heart tingles with something giddy, skipping happily as you follow riko’s lead; she’s wearing a cute bikini set, frilly and floral, hair styled into a pair of braided pigtails, kept together by her favorite scrunchies. leading you towards her older brother, waiting patiently, having already grabbed a nice spot for you. a parasol, a blanket, a picnic basket. you see bottles of pink lemonade, wrapped sandwiches, strawberries in a plastic container.

more than anything, you see him. you see him, and realize just how screwed you are.

he’s smiling, when you approach. as always. hair tousled by the ocean breeze, blue eyes gleaming with mirth, exposed by the sunglasses close to slipping down the bridge of his nose. he’s wearing a hawaiian shirt, black in colour, white floral patterns to tie it all together. just unbuttoned enough to show off his collarbone, a sliver of his chest, the short sleeves exposing his biceps; patches of pale skin, shining with the beginnings of sweat. 

(you’re about to fucking explode.)

as soon as you’re in sight, satoru lights up, aiming the flash of his phone in your direction. his other hand stays tucked into the pocket of his shorts. “aw, look at you two!” he coos, grinning brightly, teasing and sweet. “pose for the camera, okay?”

you’re still too hypnotized to react, but riko scurries ahead, ready to steal it from his grasp.

“no pictures!”

“oh, don’t be like that!” he takes a step back, dodging her attack by a hair, still wearing the same grin. “you’re gonna thank me ten years from now, trust me. it’s for the memories!”

a new voice spills into the air, suddenly, and you’re brought back into reality. it’s silky and low, smooth and nice, honeysuckle nectar turned into sound. interrupting the siblings.

“it’s been ten seconds. how are you already bickering?” 

you turn towards its source, and spot a familiar face — right next to satoru. were you seriously too mesmerized to notice him? black hair, another hawaiian shirt, slightly lidded eyes… 

suguru. 

he meets your surprised stare with a relaxed smile, and takes a step forward; meeting you for a quick hug. he looks the same as he did when you were younger, odd bangs, hair tied up into a bun.

“hi there,” he hums, right by your ear, a light squeeze before he lets go. “it’s been a while.”

you part your lips, smiling through your words. a little stunned. “i didn’t know you’d be here too!”

he chuckles, a light shrug of his shoulders. “me neither. satoru called me last night and asked me to drop by. i had time to kill.”

“you missed me.”

a dubious look. suguru gives a lazy roll of his eyes, avoiding the smug voice to his right. “i saw you last week,” he tuts, an unimpressed expression on his face. “how could i miss you?”

“do you need a reason to miss your best friend?” he shakes his head, slowly, side to side. white locks swaying back and forth. “awful. just awful.”

you stifle a smile, completely unsuccessful. the sun feels nice on your skin, and the scent of the sea is nostalgic, and they’re all the same as ever. it’s like you can feel your nerves melting away, slowly but surely, like grains of sand slipping through the gaps between your fingers. 

“the matching shirts are cute,” you point out, wanting to partake in the conversation, only to be met with a pair of furrowed brows.

suguru sighs. “that…” he mutters, massaging his temple, not before shooting satoru a dirty glance. “wasn't planned.”

said man only grins, unperturbed, tucking his phone back into his pocket. thoroughly amused. “he’s mad that i stole his fit,” he chirps, stretching his arms idly. it makes his shirt ride up, ever so slightly, and you swallow a gulp.

“well… you look good in it.”

at that, satoru stills. gazing at you, silently, before breaking out into another grin. self-satisfied, a smooth curve, sunlight against the white of his teeth. you glance away, suddenly a little shy.

“does he?” the other two deadpan, completely in sync. it shoos away the smile on his lips, making way for a displeased frown.

“oh, come on. would it kill you to call me handsome now and then?”

“handsome?” riko places her hands on her hips, raising an unimpressed brow, a sassy lilt to her voice. “you look like a single father down on his luck.”

“seconded,” suguru quips, hiding the beginnings of a smirk. picking at a piece of lint on his shirt. “honestly, i’m surprised you’re wearing any layers at all. not gonna flaunt your abs this time?”

satoru brightens, suddenly. wiggling his brows, a sweet coo on the tip of his tongue. “oh? want me to loosen up a couple buttons?” he purrs, and you hate yourself a little for the instant yes that resounds through your mind. “you know you can always just ask, suguru.”

his teasing goes ignored, but you don’t miss the amusement that flits through the scope of suguru’s eyes, even as he tries to maintain that deadpan expression.

finally, he exhales. “well, see you later,” he hums, directed to you and riko, checking the time on his wristwatch. “i should probably get going.”

“you’re not staying?” you ask, lashes fluttering with a confused blink. he smiles.

“i am,” he reassures you. “just gonna go fishing for a while. i thought i’d give it a try.”

“fishing?” riko exclaims, covering her amused grin with the palm of her hand. stifling laughter, you can tell, a bout of giggles begging to push past her lips. “what are you, fifty?”

satoru lets out a snort. to his left, suguru goes eerily silent — ominous, staring into your best friend’s eyes with no visible emotion. enough to make her smile fall. you feel a sense of deja vu.

“wait, i’m just kidding!” she suddenly squeaks, clinging to your arm and hiding behind you. she’s always had good survival instincts. ”don’t put me in a headlock!”

(they’re so stupid. 

gosh, you missed them.)

“oh, by the way — do you want some shaved ice?” she turns to you, eyes crinkled at the edges, voice syrupy and sweet. “i can go get us some. what flavour do you want?”

“ah, great idea!” satoru matches her tone, tongue flitting out to lick his lips, glossy with chapstick. “i was just craving something sweet.”

“you’re paying, by the way.”

“…”

“so? any preference?” she tilts her head, waiting patiently for your reply. smiling once she gets it. “alright, got it. you, suguru?”

“i’m good. thanks, though.”

“okie-dokie,” she puts her palm out, facing satoru. “money, please.”

he only tuts, digging through his pocket and pulling out a black wallet. you think you spot a photocard, but he’s pulled out a credit card and tucked it back into his pocket before you can get a closer look. 

“get me watermelon, okay? strawberry is fine too. if push comes to shove, go for anything other than lemon.” he hands her the card with a click of his tongue. “and watch out for creeps. if anyone hits on you, you know where to aim.”

she pockets it with a huff, exasperation on her features. “i’m twenty-three, toru. i can take care of myself.”

“aww, don’t be like that,” he coos, hands reaching out to squish her cheeks. she tries to squirm away, to no avail. “you’ll always be my little baby sister, you know. and, as your dependable big bro, i —“

“ugh, whatever.” she shoots him an unimpressed glance, finally escaping his hold. ”are you gonna go all men are wolves on us, or something?”

”they are! just look at suguru.”

”hey.”

you hide a growing smile behind your hand, watching them bicker and banter, feeling that sense of peace again. the summer day feels a little like a hazy daydream, a heavy nostalgia that sticks to your bones like gum on the sole of your shoe. 

and, once again — you end up alone with a certain someone. suguru walks towards the faraway pier, riko strolls up to the stand selling shaved ice, and satoru lingers behind. you think he looks relaxed, at ease, but you can’t really look at him for too long without feeling nervous. without feeling as if you’re both ignoring the elephant in the room. 

it still feels a little like there’s an invisible wall between you.

he’s the first to speak up, craning his neck and stretching like a big cat, a tiny groan escaping him. “well, there they go,” he hums. “what do you feel like doing first?”

“ummm…” you rack your brain for ideas, coming up empty. a little fried by his presence. you could go into the water, and escape the heat — sunbathing with him doesn’t sound so bad, though…

lost deep in thought, you barely notice him inching closer. still weighing your options, water or land, a relaxing nap or a splash war. you don’t notice until you feel his arm sneaking around your waist, pulling you closer, just by a hair. stealing all the oxygen from your lungs.

(you think your brain shuts down a little.)

his touch burns, as always. bare skin on bare skin. electric, a trail of sparks rushing through your veins. he’s warm, and solid, effortlessly composed — guiding you right where he wants you, which is by his chest, where you can practically hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat —

and then he’s pulling away.

you raise your head to meet his gaze, completely flushed, unsure if you were hallucinating or not. he’s looking somewhere behind you, with a distinctly cold gaze. you follow his stare, craning your neck, catching a glimpse of a man turning his back on you both before walking away.

… was he staring at you, or what?

when you search for satoru’s eyes again, they’re already on you. he’s smiling, a little sheepish, scratching at the back of his neck.

“sorry,” he chuckles. “i got paranoid.”

oh.

your skin still feels like it’s on fire. a lingering heat, blossoming where his skin touched yours, rendering you speechless. embarrassing, embarrassing, embarrassing. he was just looking out for you.

finally, you gain control over your vocal chords, dry and charred. just enough to croak out a response.

“i — it’s fine.”

your eyes stay glued to the sand beneath you, staring at a crushed seashell, unable to look him in the eye. feeling the back of your neck grow hotter. you miss the dirty glance riko sends his way, having just returned with the shaved ice, and the way satoru mouths out a silent what?

it’s easier after that. she grounds you, a little, leading you out into the sea. the water is pleasantly mild, licking at your ankles, coaxing you further, until it’s reaching up to your waist. it cools you down considerably, and before you know it you’re splashing her with all you’ve got, giggles filling the salty air — seagull cries above you and wet sand beneath your feet, a glimmer or two of tiny fish, loud laughter. sensations all around you. satoru watches you with a smile, munching on a sandwich, not joining you both until riko beckons him over.

the day stretches on, melting away into evening. people leave the beach behind them, suguru heads back to the house with a bucket of fish and a smug smile, riko dries herself off with a towel and rushes to a nearby convenience store when she notices that it’s about to close. murmuring something about dinner, shooting you an anxious glance, a silent will you be alright on your own? with him? 

you wave her off with a smile. hoping it’ll come off as convincing.

so, one way or another, you end up under a parasol with a certain satoru gojo; putting empty bottles of lemonade back into the picnic basket, rolling up the blanket, stuck with cleaning duty. satoru carries it all, unwilling to let you help, the basket hanging off his arm. you walk away from the beach, stepping onto solid asphalt again, beginning your trekk up towards the main street — not too long of a walk, but you’re tired, even though satoru doesn’t seem tuckered out in the slightest. walking a step or two ahead of you.

the sun is beginning to set, melting like a sundae on the boundary of the horizon, rays of golden sunshine dripping down your wrist. satoru looks good in it, the pink and orange; peaceful, somehow. when the breeze licks a stripe across his cheek, he closes his eyes and exhales. there’s a smile on those lips, a smile of contentment.

he turns towards you and waits until you catch up.

“tired?” he coos, tilting his head, absently tucking his shades into the breast pocket of his shirt. blinking slowly, eyes shimmering in the summery hue of evening. 

“kinda,” you smile, trying to muster a pep in your step. another hum buzzes in his throat, and then he’s facing forward again.

“c’mon. let’s get you something from the vending machine, okay? ‘s just up ahead.” he pats your head, once, twice. “that’ll give you some energy.”

you can only nod, following his lead. hydrangeas bloom all around you, a thick syrupy scent, paired with apple blossoms from the backyards you pass. then you spot the vending machine. satoru takes out his wallet, finding his card — it’s not the same one as before. riko still has it.

and this time, you’re close enough to see it. in his wallet is a photocard, clearly visible; of a baby, sleeping soundly, with short tufts of hair. a dark colour unlike his own.

(your heart melts, a little.)

“cola or sprite?”

you raise your head, looking through the barrier of glass in front of you. then you’re stepping forward, fingertip pressing against it, pointing towards a green can of sprite. not looking at him, as you make your choice. ”this one.”

— suddenly, you feel his skin on yours.

you’re sleepy, and pliant, jaw caught between his fingers. he lifts it up, turns it towards him, just so that you’ll meet his gaze. two seas of blue, flecks of pure white, summer skies and summer clouds.

“there,” he exhales, pleased. giving you a reassuring smile before pulling away. “you’ve barely looked me in the eye today. ‘s gonna break my heart, y’know.”

a pause. you gulp, on instinct, shying away from his unbridled attention — eyes moving from those summer skies down to the curve of his glossy lips, and then back up again. a mistake, because when you glance down once more, unable to help yourself, you see it.

that apologetic smile.

(you really are obvious, aren’t you?

how embarrassing.)

silence splits the scene in half, only the faraway sounds of seagulls as background noise. they sound a little like they’re laughing, mocking you.

satoru presses a button on the vending machine, followed by a quiet beep. he doesn’t look at you when he broaches the subject, and you wonder if it’s out of respect or discomfort.

“still not over that schoolgirl crush, huh?”

…

something twists inside your gut. a little ugly, a little sentimental. now that he’s made the first move, it’s easier to move the pieces.

“it’s not a crush,” you murmur, kicking at a pebble on the ground. surprised by how clear your voice comes out. “i’m in love with you.”

a sigh. another beep, and the sound of a sodacan falling against metal flooring. he crouches down.

“… you could really, really do better.”

you watch as he fumbles with the pick-up box, eyes trained on the back of his neck, the buzzed hair of his undercut. letting out a quiet breath. “riko said the same thing.”

a snort pushes past his lips, ripe with fondness. he pulls himself up from the ground, shifting his weight from one foot to another, reaching for his wallet again. “oh, i’m sure.” he tucks the card back, slipping it into his pocket. a stray cat strolls by you, unburdened, waving its tail in the air. “really, though. you should listen to her.”

something cold meets your cheek. metal, condensation, a pleasant shiver down your spine. he presses the aluminium can against you, and you receive it with a murmur of thanks.

“i’m too old for you, for one.” he continues, and suddenly you feel a little like you’re being lectured. you break open the lid of the sprite can.

“you’re four years older.” a fizzy sound crackles like static in your ears, carbonation bubbling up, sticking to your fingertips. “and we’re both adults.”

he huffs out a breath, only mildly amused. “i’m pushing thirty, y’know?”

you take a sip, lips against cold aluminum, melting sunrays lapping at your skin. it tastes sweet. 

“i know.” a pause, your bottom lip trapped between two sharp teeth. gnawing at the flesh. ”i can’t control how i feel, though.”

…

“yeah,” he sighs, leaning back against the glass. crossing one leg over the other, fiddling with something in his pocket. “i know.”

a moment passes. then he parts his lips, again.

“hey, how about you join me on a mixer someday?” he searches for your gaze, smiling, another one of those charming tilts of his head. “i know some cute guys. and girls, if that’s your thing.”

your answer is instantaneous.

“i’ll pass.”

…

another exhale, breathed out into the summer air. it drips with exasperation, ripe with fatigue, but there’s still something fond there. unmistakable.

“fine, fine. just… think about it. okay?” his palm finds its way to your head, ruffling your hair gently. that comforting weight. “c’mon, let’s go back. riri’s making dinner tonight.”

and then he’s taking a step forward. you watch his back for only a moment, still deep in thought. a fizzy, syrupy sweetness sticking to your teeth, a sense of nostalgia invading all your senses. and, as always, that silent adoration.

deep down, you know it’s true. there’s no changing this, whatever this is. in the same way riko will always be his baby sister, you’ll always just be the brat that sniffled into his chest after your first fight with her. 

he’ll never quite see you the way you’d like him to.

(but, then again, isn’t that a part of it? that subtle, subtle kindness of his. the sense of maturity that asks for nothing in return.)

satoru is a good guy. that’s why you can’t help but adore him, despite everything. can’t help but watch his back as he leaves you behind, wishing you could catch up.

it feels nice, to open yourself up like this. crack the lid of your heart and have him wade through the carbonation. it feels nice to have your feelings be acknowledged, even if they aren’t reciprocated. even if you’re completely delusional, and high on summer joy. it feels nice just to watch him shine.

you gulp down the rest of your sprite, toss it into a trash can across the street, and stumble after him. veins sleepy, heart heavy, overwhelmed by adoration. you’ve already cracked the lid open; everything else comes easy. you just want to make a move, any move. want to see how he’ll react.

“satoru,” you call, and he comes to a standstill. when he turns around your arms are outstretched. “can i have a piggyback ride?”

the man before you blinks. once, then twice, fluttering like angel wings, or pretty clouds. 

and then his smile grows. you catch a glimpse of his dimples, for just a moment, and then he’s beckoning you closer with a chuckle.

“yeah? now you’re suddenly all brave?” he shakes his head, no real discontentment behind it. “or are you really that exhausted?”

he studies you intently, ripe with fondness, and you think your sluggish blinks must be enough to convince him. because he crouches down, back facing you, and chirps out a hop on. a little teasing, of course, but still nice. his arms underneath your thigh, lifting you up like it’s nothing. making sure you’re comfortable.

he’s strong. very strong. the butterflies in your stomach flutter around again.

and you really are very exhausted. bones buzzing with something sleepy and fatigued, sore after all the running around you did in the water. completely tuckered out, resting your cheek against his back. like this, you can feel his muscles, the solidity of his body. it’s a little bit distracting.

“— remember?”

a series of blinks. you grasp onto his shoulders, holding back a yawn. “huh?”

“you falling asleep on me?” he chuckles, walking forward. one step after another, the soles of his sandals hitting the asphalt. “i was saying — how i remember doing this back then.”

you tilt your head.

“when you fell and twisted your ankle. i think it was nearby, actually. some park?”

“... oh.” when you really concentrate, you think you do recall it; the feeling of his back against your chest, a dull ache in your foot. “yeah, i remember.”

satoru hums, a little buzz of amusement. “after that, you and riri would ask me for it all the time. carry us, big bro!” his imitation makes you smile, voice high and squeaky. “so childish, i swear. i could barely carry one of you.”

a chuckle tumbles from your lips, and it seems to spur him on; because he continues. nostalgia pouring out his throat.

“don’t tell her, okay? but, see — i started going to the gym after that. lifting weights. training, and stuff,” he huffs out an amused exhale, grinning softly. “suguru made me carry boulders on the beach. it was kind of our thing.”

…

“we almost got arrested once.”

you can’t help but laugh, hiding in the smooth fabric of his shirt, in between those printed white flowers. shoulders shaking slightly, giddy and amused. “you did that just ‘cause you were embarrassed?”

“no,” he murmurs, softly, the slightest shake of his head. ”because i wanted to be prepared. in case the two of you ever happened to fall over at the same time, or something…” a sheepish little chuckle. ”i wanted to be able to carry you both back.”

satoru continues to walk, facing away from you. always smiling, you’re sure. even if you can’t see it.

“you’re both precious to me,” he says, making sure to keep a steady hold around your legs. “that’s why i don’t want either of you wasting yourselves on some random guy.”

silence. then, a displeased huff.

“… you’re not some random guy, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“well, of course not. i’m the guy,” he stands a little straighter, and you can practically see the smug smirk on his lips. “but i’m not a very good person.”

you blink.

silence fills the open air.

he says it so casually that you almost don't catch it. matter-of-factly, like it’s just another obvious realization, something so deeply ingrained that it isn’t even worthy of a tonal shift. satoru, who makes pancakes for the people he loves, who carries your bags and buys you soda and keeps a picture of his baby sister in his wallet.

that satoru isn’t a good person?

(how could he ever, ever think that?)

“you are.”

a low hum buzzes in his throat, absentminded. you’re not sure he hears you. if he does, he simply doesn’t care enough to respond. the scene flickers by, the moment comes and goes — you want to protest again, but something about this silence makes you hesitate.

the only thing you can do is —

“satoru.”

another little hum. acknowledging, this time. 

“do you… i mean,” you choke down a bundle of words, replacing them with new ones. gnawing at the flesh of your bottom lip. “is there really no chance… you’ll ever feel the same? none at all?”

…

a mirthless chuckle. he sounds a little tired, you think. more than a little exasperated. but the amusement is still there, laced into his voice, and you drink it in the same way you’ve always done. a little root, soaking in the light of the sun.

“after all that,” he mutters, “you’re still asking?”

a moment’s pause. you listen intently, as if you could hear the gears of his mind shift if you focus enough. as if just being stubborn enough could coax him into opening up the way you have. 

finally, he parts his lips.

“well,” comes a sigh, a click of his tongue. he breathes in the summer breeze. “maybe in a couple decades or so.”

you stare. those white tufts of hair sway with every step he takes, and his voice has a finality to it that isn’t lost on you. 

“… okay.”

a pause. then he’s barking out a short laugh, shoulders shaking. you tighten your grip around them. “okay?” he repeats, pinching the skin of your thigh. “can’t you read between the lines, you little troublemaker?”

a huff. you kick your legs, a little, just stretching them contentedly. wet hair sticking to his skin, your cheek still smushed against him, enveloped in his neverending warmth. “i don’t mind,” you whisper, choking down a yawn. and you mean it. “i’ve already waited eight years. a couple decades more isn’t too bad.”

silence, again. you wonder what he’s thinking. you wonder if you’ll ever come close to cracking open the lid of his heart. he parts his lips, oxygen spilling out.

(you think it’s a start.)

“has anyone ever told you that you’re awfully stubborn?”

you’re quick to nod, forehead nuzzling into his undercut. wearing a satisfied smile. “riko tells me all the time.”

“does she?” there’s silent laughter hiding between his teeth, eager to spill out. “that’s good. listen to her, alright? you might learn a thing or two.”

he’s teasing you. the sun is setting, and the air smells like saltwater, and satoru’s back is warm. his voice is set to a melodic lilt, and you feel strangely tempted to close your eyes. 

and you adore him again. 

right — loving him was never a choice, and waiting wasn’t an issue. getting over him is the tall hurdle, the root of the problem, a root you intend you trip over as many times as it takes for this something to bloom.

because he’s beautiful, and comfortable, and kind. because it’s his back you always end up clinging to. because he knows how you like your pancakes, how you take your coffee, what you look like when you cry. because you like this feeling, the swarm of butterflies in your stomach. even if they’re completely meaningless in the long run.

satoru is right, and so is riko. you’re stubborn, terribly so — if only you could see that as a bad thing.

if only you were physically capable of giving this something up.

unlike the siblings and their overgrown backyard, you just can’t seem to look away from an ugly bud yet to bloom. just in case it ends up blossoming, this summer, or the next. just in case it turns into something worth plucking from the ground. it’s fine if it withers away, too. at least it’ll give way to better soil.

you just like him. you just want to see where it leads you. that’s all.

“but promise you’ll go with me to that mixer, okay?” his voice calls, breaking you out of your thoughts. unrelenting. ”i’ll find you someone who’ll get your mind off lil ol’ me.”

ah. that’s right. 

(you’re terribly, horribly stubborn —

and satoru is too.)

you grin, soft and giddy, thinking of the years ahead of you. what they’ll be like. where’s the fun in a certain future?

“fine,” you hum, wrapping your arms around his neck. inhaling that familiar scent of sandalwood. “do your worst.”

[wintfleur]

Hiii can I pls request 🌱 childhood home/room with Charles Leclerc or lewis and female reader? Loads of fluff and maybe nsfw?

For Charles like praising but if you write Lewis maybe an age gap, praising, pocessive? Soft but dominant for both and talking the reader through it with an extensive aftercare? Like all giggling and cuddling etc would loveee that

౨ৎ it’s called charm baby !

°. — pairings ( Lewis Hamilton x female! Reader )

°. — summary ( your boyfriend knows how to make you feel better, after dinner with him meeting your family doesn’t go well )

°. — details ( g; fluff & smut. w; smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!!!), cursing, hair pulling, I think that’s all?. wc; 2.7k )

﹕─┈ prompt ~ childhood room

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I COULD NOT STOP GIGGLING AS I READ THIS NONNIE YOU ARE A GENIUS !!!! This was my first Lewis fic, and I just loved writing for him so thank you for sending in the request, I really hope you enjoy this !!! I’m still kinda new to writing smut so I hope you guys like it <333 )

1k celly masterlist main masterlist f1 masterlist

“Well that went better than i expected” Lewis mused after he heard the sound of you closing the door behind you. His eyes were immediately drawn to your walls, taking in every detail with a fond smile. He always wondered what your childhood room looked like; he'd seen a few pictures of you in the room, but it was different from actually being there. He didn't get a chance of getting a good look earlier when the two of you had brought your shared luggage up, your youngest brother who was only a few years younger than you, whisking him away before he could really take everything in. 

You could hear the slight of sarcasm in his tone making you feel even worse on how your parents ⸺ no how your father treated him at dinner. The two of you decided to finally come visit your parents now that Lewis is on break. You were a little hesitant on coming, knowing how your father could be, but Lewis was convincing. Your mother was as sweet as always, asking questions about his career and giving his family good wishes, your two brothers were eager to talk about his career as well, your niece was absolutely smitten with him, and your father . . . completely uninterested. You knew he wasn't happy with you and Lewis's age-gap with how much he voiced his opinion about it, but still you thought he'd at least try . . . for you. 

“I’m really sorry lew, we shouldn't have come” you frowned as your eyes followed your boyfriend of a year around your room. He was taking in every detail, everything in your room made sense to him, everything was so you. Lewis looked away from your collection of posters over your desk and moved to sit on the edge of your bed facing you, a smile on his lips. “Don't say that baby, i know you really wanted to see your family, and I've had a great time.” 

“Give me a few more days and I'll get your dad to like me” Lewis promised as he leaned back on his hands, a small giggle leaving his lips as he saw the clearly old stuffed bear perfectly sitting on your bed. You feel your heart warm at his words, he was always so selfless, willing to go through anything just so he could see a smile on your pretty face. You swiftly lock your door and walk over to your boyfriend, the corner of your lips twitching up into a smirk when you watch how his eyes immediately drop to your swaying hips. 

“You are quite charming” You whispered as you placed your hands on your boyfriend's shoulders, feeling the smooth silk of his shirt as you climbed up onto his lap, the two of you keeping eye contact as he looked up at you. Lewis smirked as he heard your coquettish tone that he loved so much. The dress he bought you in Brazil riding up your thighs at the new position and he was eager to move his hands to caress your bare thighs, chills decorating your skin at his touch. 

“Oh, am i?” he teasingly asks you even though he was well aware how charming he is with how much you reminded him, a cocky smile on his lips. Lewis watched as you playfully rolled your eyes as you moved your hands to his nape, your breath hitching when you felt him slide his hands under your dress and up your thighs. You playfully chided him with a click of your tongue and a small shake of your head “Cockiness doesn't look good on you Lewis.” 

That's a lie. It looked really good on him . . . 

“Fuck but you do” lewis quickly breathed out as he looked up at you, swiftly moving one of his hands out from under your dress and tangling it in your hair at your nape and pulling you down into a wet kiss he’s wanted to do all day. A small sound of surprise leaves your lip that he's quick to swallow, his lips eagerly moving against yours. You move one of your hands to cup his cheek, the soft caress of your thumb on his jaw was completely different from the passionate kiss the two you were sharing. 

You absentmindedly grinded against your boyfriend's lap, a mix of a moan and a whine leaving your lips at the feeling of the friction against his bulging length and the feeling of his grip tightening on your hair. The two of you were both so desperate for each other's touch, having to be good and keep your hands to yourself all day in front of your family. God it was torture, especially seeing how good he looked. The lingering touches he left on your waist as he walked past you, or the soft touches on your thighs under the table. He knew what he was doing . . . 

You reluctantly pull away from your boyfriend's addictive lips, panting against his lips as you're slow to open your eyes. You lock eyes with lewis darkened ones, your thighs clenching around him when he untangles his fingers out of your hair and uses his thumb to wipe the spit off your tingling lips. “Please” your tone is desperate and whiny. You didn't have to say anything else; he knew what you wanted, and your eyes were begging him to fuck you.

You knew you were playing with fire, but your room was far enough from your parents, and you were too needy to really care. Lewis groaned as he felt you grind your hips impatiently against him, a smirk forming on his lips. He could feel you throbbing even with three layers of clothing between the two of you. Lewis chuckled and rested his hand on your collarbone, his thumb teasingly tracing the column of your throat, knowing that you were just itching to have him wrap his hand around it. His hand under your dress gripped your thigh “You think you can be quite hmm? Be my good girl?” 

“I promise lewis, i'll be your good girl” you promised as you nodded quickly, starting to get impatient as you felt his hand slowly move up and down your thigh, the cold chill of his rings against your warm skin sending a shiver down your spine. You couldn't wait anymore, and he could see that. The look in your eyes, the impatient rolling of your hips, 

“I know baby, you're always my good girl aren't you” Lewis whispered as slowly trailed his hand up the inside of your thigh. You let out a small huff of frustration, just wanting to feel his fingers calm that ache between your thighs. But you were quick to close your mouth and bite your lip at the stern look lewis gave you, he had no problem with you being needy, but he crossed the line at you being bratty. But he’ll take pity on his pretty girl, he moves his hand right to where you were needing him the most. A gasp leaving your lips at his touch while a small chuckle leaves him at how damp your panties were, his pointer finger teasingly rubbing your clit through your panties. 

“Mhm yes lew” you whimpered and leaned down to lay your head on his shoulder, softly biting his silk shirt to keep your moans at bay as he dips his fingers into your panties, covering his fingers in your slick and smoothly slipping two fingers inside your throbbing hole. You wrap your arms around Lewis muscular shoulders, a whine leaving your lips at the sudden stretch. 

Lewis smiles cheekily and looks down at you, your lips parted as sweet and quiet moans left your lips as he continued his slow movement, massaging your tight walls. Leaning down to whisper in your ear, his beard tickling your face, but you were too lost in pleasure to say anything about it “Awe darling, you're just sucking my fingers up, so tight.” 

“Feels so good” You moaned out, tilting your head to start kissing and sucking your boyfriend's godly neck, desperately needing to occupy your mouth so you wouldn't be moaning out praises and curses at the pleasure your boyfriend was giving you. Lewis let out a quiet grunt at the feeling of your lips on his burning skin, sucking and nibbling. And the way you gently rutted against his fingers and the choked-out moan you let out when he curled his fingers up, made him want to lay you across the bed and fuck you until you couldn't take it anymore. 

“Lew i need more ⸺ please fuckkk i need more” you begged, letting out a sharp gasp when he starts rubbing your clit with his thumb, his hand covered in your slick. Lewis smirks and locks eyes with you, your eyes glazed over. His poor baby was already fucked out and he hasn't even taken his cock out. Lewis kisses your forehead and slowly pulls his fingers out of your sopping hole and softly patting your clit as he whispers.

 “Only because you asked so prettily.” 

“Fuck darling, you take me so fucking well” Lewis got out between his grunts, his thumbs dipped into the dimples of your back as he holds tightly onto your waist as he thrusts into you from behind. His eyebrows furrowed and his lips parted as his gaze was fixed on where your bodies connected ⸺ loving how good your pussy swallows him in. He slides his hands down to hold your ass, his fingers sinking into your skin and spreading it open slightly to watch as his dick covered in your slick disappears in your needy cunt. 

A soft chuckle leaves his lips when he notices your trembling thighs “Feels good, huh?” 

“Feels so good” you mewled in pleasure, your arms were stretched under the coolness of your pillows, and the soft fabric of your duvet against your cheek and naked body felt so good against your burning skin. Your face was smushed against your soft pillow, hoping that it would help muffle your uncontrollable moans that only got more frequent the harder his thrusts got. 

Lewis pulls up your hips and adjusts the pillow under your hips, the new angle causing him to pound into you deeper. A loud moan leaving your lips at how deep he was stretching you ⸺ you felt so full. The sound of your skin meeting creates a lewd noise that makes you feel like you were in a trance, being lulled by the rhythmic sound. You pull your pillow closer to you, whines and moans leaving your parted lips as your body jerks forward from the hard thrusts “It's too much!” 

Lewis leans down as he continues fucking into your aching cunt, one of his hands softly rubbing up your back before tangling his hands into your hair and making a makeshift ponytail and pulling you up against his chest. Your back arched and one of your trembling hands moved behind you and dug your fingers into the skin of Lewis thigh so you wouldn't fall, a delicious hiss leaving his lips at the sting he welcomed. “You can take it baby ⸺ we both know you can” he whispered huskily in your ear, trailing off into a taunting coo, both of you thinking back on the countless times of you fucking yourself on his cock. 

“You gonna cum for me love?” Lewis moaned, feeling the way you clenched around him, the feeling bringing him closer to his own peak. “Yes lew!” you whined as you tilted your head back against him. Lewis kept his eyes on you taking in the beauty of your side profile as he continued to fuck you. Your eyebrows were furrowed, and your eyes were glazed over with pleasure, your mouth parted as quiet moans slipped past your lips. 

“I’m gonna cum  ⸺ fuckk” you cried out, but it came out muffled from lewis hand quickly covering your mouth, your head tipping forward as you felt that rope inside you snap, letting you fall into your own desire. Everything went silent for a second and you swore you lost vision as you came undone. And like a chain reaction, Lewis spilled himself deep inside of you, not being able to hold back once he felt you cum around him. Quiet grunts leaving his lips as he tilted his head back in pleasure. 

Your trembling body fell forward on your bed, a whimper leaving your lips at the feeling of him slipping out of you while a hiss left his. You snuggled your face into your unruly sheets as you tried to catch your breath and calm down from the intense orgasm your boyfriend led you to. Lewis’s sweaty chest heaved as he panted and also tried to catch his breath, his eyes closing for a few seconds. 

He looks down at your tired body and places his hands on the bed at the sides of your body, softly kissing your back a few times a smile on his lips at the sight of your sweaty body. You let out a quiet groan as you rolled over in bed, your glazed over eyes looking up at your smiling boyfriend. Lewis leaned down, placing his hands by your head so he wouldn't crush you with his body weight. 

“You did so good f’me” lewis praised you as he placed gentle and soft kisses all over your face. You smiled and shut your eyes at the soft feeling of his lips, one of his hands moving to gently caress your side. His head falling into the crook of your neck to softly kiss. You hum in satisfaction at his soft and sweet touches and whisper “up for a bath?” 

Lewis placed a few more kisses on your shoulder and collarbone before sitting up on his knees between your spread legs. You smile and sit up as well, placing your hand on his abdomen before placing a soft and meaningful kiss over his heart. Lewis looked down at you with such love, taking your hand on his chest into his and placing a kiss on it before whispering “Always with you darling.”

Lewis helps you out of your bed and into your bathroom that was connected to your room, his hands flipping the switch while you were already moving to the shelf in your bathroom, grabbing a few candles and setting them on the edge around your big white bathtub. You would be lying if you said you didn't miss your bathtub the most about your childhood room. 

Lewis rests his hands on your waist as you lean down to turn on the water, hot water soon pouring out and filling the bath. You giggle when you come up, your back coming flush against his chest. Lewis was quick to place a few kisses on your shoulder and whisper in your ear how beautiful you looked. You turn around and playfully scold him with a grin on your face “You're such a flirt.” 

“I prefer to say I'm just charming” Lewis smirked, using your words against you. You bit your lip and nod your head, touché. You let Lewis get into the bath first, and then you. Your body nestling between his legs and his arms wrapped around your waist as you leaned back against his chest. The two of you enjoyed a few minutes of peaceful silence as you relaxed in the warm bath, your muscles relaxing from the cardio. 

“I love you” you broke the silence as you tilted your head to look back at him. He could see the reflection of the candle burning in your eyes, and your lips were so red from all the bruising kisses the two of you shared. He brought his water-soaked hand and cups your cheek, bringing you closer and resting his forehead on the side of your head. Yes, the dinner didn't go the way the both of you wanted, but he wouldn't have changed anything because it brought the two of you here . . . in that soft moment filled with nothing but love and vanilla candles. 

“And i love you “

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( ahhh im nervous about this 🤭 please tell me what you guys think 💋 )

°. — taglist ( @iloveyou3000morgan @copper-boom @cixrosie @partyinpitlane @toasttt11 )

[sourholland]

click

azriel x fem!reader

a short sorta and angsty, im halfway through a court of wings and ruin so this doesn’t really sit in a timeline but i was inspired to write. as always, requests are always open

If there was one thing to be absolutely certain about when it came to Azriel, it was his utter devotion to Mor. The yearning that bled through that stone cold facade. It was almost as if his desperation for her prevailed above all else, even after so many years.

Rhysand had alluded to his hope that the mating bond would someday click between the two of them. You wondered if perhaps he thought if it did, maybe all of that longing wouldn’t have all been for nothing. The way he looked at her was unlike anything you’d ever seen, causing you to ignore the small twinge in your heart that came with the sight of it. Over the years, you had come to terms with the fact that his feelings were unchanging and deep-rooted through centuries of shared trauma.

Having only been with Rhys’s inner circle for a few decades, you were much younger get than the rest of them. He had anointed you as emissary of The Night Court when you came to him seeking asylum within Velaris, born to The Court of Nightmares.

Mor was much like you in that way, she was a sister to you at this point. When Feyre came, you felt so overjoyed to have another female to connect with. Even Amren had taken to you, in whatever capacity she knew how to.

Amren was who had observed the soul tie between you and Azriel, how she was able to—you had not a clue. The feeling of the potential bond had weighed on your heart for a few years, however he never spoke of it so you had chalked it up to being a mistaken feeling within the hollowness of your chest. She picked up on it very early on, she spoke to you candidly.

“He loves Mor,” said Amren, unabashedly.

“I know,” you responded chastely. “She knows, he knows, I know. That is that.”

Amren stilled for a moment, her legs tucked under her as you both sat on the floor of her apartment and mulled over information for your meeting at the House of Wind that night. A flicker of emotion passed her cold eyes, meeting her gaze and sharing a look of understanding. She needn’t say it, she pitied you in whatever way she could muster up.

“He doesn’t know,” you said after a moment.

“Yes,” she let a knowing sigh escape her lips. “He does.”

You say nothing. Truthfully, you knew that he suspected. You simply gathered that he was doing the same as you were, ignoring it in entirety. Yet, you remained on speaking terms with him as he continued to watch Mor like she would someday change her mind.

“I will say this only once, mostly because I do not wish to meddle in the inner workings of your soul,” she finally said. “If he wishes to grovel at the feet of someone who will never have him in the way that he wishes, let him. It is a pathetic waste of life, if that is any consolation.”

Once you departed from Amren’s apartment, you walked along the streets of Velaris soundlessly. There were children playing in the streets, you greeted some of them sweetly and nodded along. She was right, Azriel would not change for anyone but himself at this point.

He was late to dinner that night, whatever business he was attending to had somehow held him up. He came in after everyone was already sat and eating, chatting and laughing a bit. He took the empty seat beside you, mentioning a few things to Rhysand and speaking to Feyre about his plans for the following day.

“How did it go between you and Amren?” He suddenly asked you, beginning to shovel food onto his plate.

You simply responded with the sound of cutlery scraping the bottom of your plate. He thought that you had not heard him, repeating himself again as his shadows danced around his shoulders and the edges of his wings. The third time he repeated himself, there was an edge to his voice that brought you out of your thoughts to meet his eyes.

Click.

There it was. The bond. The god awful fucking mating bond. It felt almost ironic, like fate was giving you the middle finger. Azriel stilled, his eyes completely locked onto your own. It felt nothing like you’d imagined, despite already knowing deep down.

Only Amren had fully recognized what happened, eyes almost appearing shocked. She said nothing, but could not pull her own stare from the interaction.

His shadows began to drift towards you, a sick feeling lurching in your gut and causing you to drop your utensils. The clatter caused everyone to look up and to both of you, your chair nearly falling behind you as you could not stomach to be in the dining room any longer.

Azriel couldn’t even go after you, he only sat in silence with unmoving eyes. He hadn’t even blinked, almost as if the confirmation sent him into a complete and utter state of shock.

[squirmhoney]

TO BREAK A WIFE | NAOYA ZEN'IN

Please read all warnings carefully, my fics cover dark topic matters, that may be upsetting to certain readers. Read at your own discretion. Warnings: Dark. Arranged/Forced marriage. Non con Dub con. Spanking. Loss of virginity. Violence against reader. Abusive relationship. Forced pregnancy. Misogynistic views. Degrading views. Submissive reader. 18+ A/N: This is part 2 to a little series so if you haven’t read that, read it first.

AS ALWAYS MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! MASTER LIST HERE

-

Naoya dragged you out of that ceremony, forcing you to practically run to keep up with him. 

You knew where he was leading you to and when you reached his chambers, you were just ready for the bedding part to be over with. 

But it felt like he had something else planned, leaving you alone for what felt like hours to stew in your own thoughts. 

You wished you had taken something, had drunk more after the ceremony, something that would leave you inebriated or completely incapacitated before this happened. Something that meant you wouldn’t have to remember this day for the rest of your life. 

The air felt still when the bedroom door opened again. All you could wish for was in that moment was for the bed to swallow you whole, for anything to save you from being there. It was like everything was slowing down as he made his way towards you, only making you more aware of how fast your heart was thudding in your chest. 

You hadn’t even moved from the position he had left you in, still sitting at the edge of the bed and you only wished you had moved as he came to stand in front of you, his whole body towering over your frame. 

His fingers touched the tip of your chin, lifting your gaze to look up at him. The first thing you noticed as your eyes trailed his frame was his lack of clothing, only a thin silk robe covering him now. 

“I’ve been thinking about this for years,” Naoya confessed, hand cupping your cheek. 

You parted your lips, wanting to ask so many questions but not knowing where to begin or what the right thing would be to say. 

But he seemed to have all the answers. 

“Not the marriage part,” he shook his head at that, a smile creeping on his face. “That hadn’t really been planned at all.” His hand trailed down the column of your neck, stopping at the edge of your shiromuku. “Take it off.” 

Your fingers fumbled with the front, struggling to untie it. It was thick in layers and there was a slight tinge of hope that they’d protect you. 

But you didn’t need to worry about that, not when Naoya dropped down, kneeling in front of you just to be able to tear the material from your body. 

You had always known he was strong but to have the material torn to shreds in a matter of seconds by his hands, had you terrified. 

You had always thought you had been a strong sorcerer, if you weren’tNaoya would have never even considered you as a marriage prospect. But you knew that it was no match to take him, his strength alone would be enough to hold you down. 

He took a step back when the robe fell apart, eyes scanning over your frame as you desperately tried to cover it. 

“Hair down,”  he demanded. 

You listened, snatching the pins from your hair and placing them by your side. 

“Better.” 

“Why?” You finally asked him, cracking under the pressure of his cold stare. “Why did you decide to marry me?” 

He stalked over towards you, making you fall onto the bed as you backed away. 

You knew he could see the fear in your eyes, he was feeding off of it, and it only grew as he started to untie his robe. 

“I never desired you when we were younger,” he began to speak again, taking his time to undress himself. “Who would desire such a disobedient brat?” He shook his head, jaw clenching as he remembered something. “But after that day when you came screaming at me about your stupid friend- What was her name again?” 

“Hana.” Her name set something off in you, a burning fire your parents had pleaded you to leave behind with your teenage years. The version of you that Naoya knew. 

“Ah yes,” he flicked his fingers as if it was all coming back to him. “Hana.” 

His robe dropped from his body then and your eyes were quick to look away. 

“Look at me.” 

His voice was stern and you found yourself unable to do anything but obey. 

“That’s it.” 

He moved then, crawling onto the bed, the mattress sinking under his weight as he made his way over to you. He stopped by your feet, taking your ankle in his hand as he examined it. 

“When you came screaming at me because of her. I thought to myself how could someone ever want to marry a bitch like this.” 

His hand slithered up your subtle skin, slow and calculated, fingers tickling your calf all the way up to your mid thigh. 

“But then my brain got to thinking, how fun it would be to train the brat out of you. To completely destroy you.” 

His fingers dug into your tender flesh and you winced. 

His eyes looked at you again, the darkness still there but there was now an insatiable hunger that lingered along with it. Almost pained in nature as if he’d be completely empty if he didn’t feed it. 

Your hand grabbed his wrist, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as you gasped, “Please, it hurts.” 

He released his hold, trailing his hand up until it was just below your cunt. 

“To break you apart,” he continued, fingers grazing your lips. “And to build you back together again.” 

You fell into the pillows as he hovered his body over you. 

“But I think your parents managed that one for me.” 

When his fingers moved, your hand reached out on instinct to push him away. 

“Or did they?” He was snickering now, snatching your hand away as he shoved it against your side. “I don’t think they did. I think she’s still there.” 

Your other hand went to push him away by his shoulders but then his free hand dove right between your thighs, not wasting any time.

“Do you remember what you said to me that day?” He asked, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as if he was genuinely curious. 

“I don’t know. Something about you being a dick and hurting my best friend,” you fumbled on the words, trying to rack your brain. 

It was near impossible when he was touching you. 

Especially when he lazily dragged a finger through your folds, a sickening grin reaching his lips as he brought his fingers to your face. His fingers were soaked, your fluids coating him and you stared at them in horror. 

“No.” He shook his head, fingers retreating back down. “After all of that.” 

You remembered. “I fear for the woman who ends up marrying you.” 

“Do you fear for yourself, Y/N?” 

His fingers slipped into your walls now, not bothering to take their time to stretch you out. He forced two of his thick fingers in, not listening to how your walls were fighting against the intrusion. 

“No, I think you wanted this all along.” 

“I never wanted this,” you hissed, thighs clamping around his hand. 

This didn’t anger Naoya like you thought it would, after all he hated disobedience. Instead it seemed to please him and he was grinning as he bound your hands to the bed, tying them to his wooden headboard. 

“There you are,” he chuckled, breath fanning against your skin as he tied your hands.

You wriggled around, trying to make it impossible but you knew it was a game you had already lost. 

“I guess I’ll get to break you after all.” 

“You’re sick,” You spat at him, leg kicking him. 

When he caught your leg, his smile finally faded, twisting into a deep scowl. 

“Do that again and I’ll break it,” Nayoa threatened, before he flipped you over. 

He moulded your body into whichever shape he found fit, burying your face into the pillows with your add stick up for him to see. 

You hated not being able to see what he was doing, having to wait for his touch in whichever form it came in. 

“Does it make you happy fighting back?” Naoya questioned, hand rubbing over the skin of your ass. “Make you feel slightly better about yourself. I mean we both know you’re not going to win.” 

“I should have fought back from the start,” you told him. “Maybe I wouldn’t have ended up here. I could have ended up with Haru.” 

His hand was sharp as it was brought down against your cheek, not just once, but several times. 

You screamed at the feel of him breaking your skin, he wasn’t even holding back as he hit you till you ass was raw red. 

“I’m not a jealous man, Y/N,” Naoya told you, slowing his pace as he took his time between smacking each cheek. “But you belong to me now and I’ll make you very aware of that. Trust me.” 

“Please,” you sobbed into the pillows.

“Please, what?” You barely heard over his brutalising hand coming against your ass a few more times. 

“Please stop,” you cried out, trying to move away from him. 

He chuckled at that, pausing his assault as if to only hear your pathetic cries. “Now why would I do that?” 

“Fuck you,” you spat, defiance still lingering there. 

“Oh you will,” he hummed before shoving his fingers in you again.

This was a different kind of torture, one mixed with pain and pleasure as he forced your walls to accommodate his thick fingers. 

In some ways you wanted this to be as painful as possible, to remind you who was doing this to you. But it hurt so much you just found yourself begging for him to stop. 

“I’m sorry,” you pleaded with him. “I’m so sorry, Naoya.”

It was the first time you had said his name and you think you both realised that. 

You couldn’t tell if he hated it or enjoyed it, only slowing down his brutal pace of his fingers for you. 

“You're so wet down there,” he pointed out, fingers toying with you know. “I just don’t believe you when you say you don’t like this.” 

A new feeling seemed to seep into your skin at that realisation. He had abused you, taunted you and was about to use you, and yet you were dripping around his fingers. You liked it.

You couldn’t quite put your tongue on what this feeling was at first, not until he spoke again. 

“Pathetic really.” 

You were pathetic. A humiliated mess.

Naoya was doing what he had always dreamed of, according to his confession earlier. He was breaking you down and you were sure by the end of it there really would be nothing left.

When he slipped a third finger in, your walls seemed to be more willing than before, sucking him in. You couldn’t even help yourself as a moan slipped from your throat, his fingers finally feeling good as they massaged your walls. 

Naoya slid his fingers out of you without warning and you bit down a whine at how empty you suddenly felt. 

“I think you’re thoroughly prepared,” he said, flipping you onto your back.

He towered over you in an instance and he didn’t even give you time to think before he was crushing his lips against yours. His lips were bruising, anything but soft as he tried to inhale you. 

It made you wonder if he had truly fantasised about this, if there had been times he actually caught himself thinking about you. 

Naoya had been a man that went through women like there had been an endless supply. You never once heard of him fuck a girl more than once, not even in more recent years. 

But the way he kissed you now and the things he had confessed about you earlier, made you believe that he had been fantasising about this a bit deeper than he was letting on. 

You don’t just marry a woman because you want to break her. If he truly wanted to do that, he could have had his way with you and still let you marry Haru. No one would have even batted an eye at that. 

The Zen’in clans delusions ran deep like it’s misogynistic values and you were sure they would have called you privileged to even be touched by Naoya. 

When you sharply moaned into Naoya, you were brought back to reality. The kiss had sent your mind reeling, snatching you of all the air from your lungs, leaving you unable to think. 

It’s why you hadn’t even noticed how he had situated himself between your thighs. You only seemed to catch on when you felt the tip of him flick against  your clit. 

“You like that?” Naoya teased, finally pulling away from you.

Your mind could barely focus on what he was saying, eyes too drawn to him sliding his cock against your folds. 

“You’re literally dripping onto my bed,” Naoya tutted, stroking himself with his hand. You could see the wetness between his fingers as he lubed himself up, the sight of it made you hate yourself even more. “Making such a mess, Y/N.” 

You wondered if this is what the girls before you had felt like in the moment. Not the sickening feeling at yourself or the hatred you felt for the man you now called husband. 

Most of them had been the ones to practically offer themselves to him. Had their minds been reeling as he pressed the tip of himself at their entrance, had this been the feeling they cried over the next day. 

You weren’t sure but the feeling made your skin feel ablaze and you wanted to scream at yourself to make it stop. 

When Naoya ducked his head down again to capture your lips, you were twisting your head away. 

Although you couldn’t see him as you stared at the wall, you knew he wasn’t impressed, feeling his body tense above you. 

It’s like you had forgotten about how cruel he could be but you were suddenly reminded as brought his hand down against your cunt. 

He didn’t even seem pleased to do it as you looked back at him, lips drawn in a thin line as if he was almost tiring of your resistance. 

Then he leant down again, eyes scanning your face as if he was questioning you to dare resist him again. 

You didn’t. When his lips touched yours, you accepted them, sliding your lips across his.

It was a distraction, keeping your mind focused on his kiss that you forgot momentarily what he was doing down there. But it didn’t last long, Naoya swallowing your protests as he finally slid into your walls. 

The feel of him inside you had you wincing, closing your eyes in some sort of hope to drown out the pain. You couldn’t help yourself as your nails clawed at the head board, urgently trying to ground yourself. 

Naoya, however, was clearly enjoying it. His lips parted ever so slightly as he sighed. His eyes half lidded as he took the sight of you breathless underneath him. 

You were glad once the burning sensation started to fade, being taken over by a pleasurable bliss that crawled all over you. Especially when Naoya was barely focusing on you anymore, picking up his pace. It was almost as if eyes were looking right through you as he lifted himself up. 

This was how you imagined he treated all of the women he had been with before as if they weren’t truly there. Like they weren’t more than just a glorified hole that to him.

He became completely oblivious to your sharp moans and soft whimpers even when you slipped out his name. He was completely lost in his own euphoric feeling, grabbing your hips with both hands as he used it as leverage, to rut faster into you. 

“Wait,” you had practically screamed at him when he started to pound into you. But your words were quickly lost on lewd noises being torn from the back of your throat. 

While Naoya became completely lost in his mission to please himself, you became lost in the tightening feeling in your stomach. You couldn’t even think properly as it grew, each thrust of his cock was stroking something in your walls that you had never felt. 

You had touched yourself before, made yourself orgasm several times but this had you babbling incoherent sentences. You wondered if Naoya could even hear you over his own thoughts. 

You felt the need to warn him, to tell him something wasn’t right but it was near impossible with your hands tied behind your back and his name dying on your tongue. But his attention started to drift back to you when your cunt began clenching around him, begging for some sort of release. 

“I think you’re about to cum,” he chuckled darkly, eyes drawing in on your face. 

The feeling only continued to grow as you felt his attention on you, lapping every expression on your face. He was hovering over you again and for some reason you seemed to believe his smile was egging you on, waiting for you to finally snap. 

You didn’t think Naoya was a person to really care about another’s pleasure but when his hips started to violently hit against yours, you were sure he was desperate for you to cum. 

So you did. 

The coil finally snapped inside of you as his thrusts got deeper, making your back arch off the bed. You were squirting all over him, your fluids literally hitting his abs and you were sure he’d be pissed at the audacity of you cumming all over him. 

But he wasn’t. 

He didn’t even seem to be paying attention down there, entranced by the sight of your face as he continued to bury himself in you. 

Was it because you had finally snapped? Finally been broken enough for him to build you up again? 

You couldn’t decipher any of this as you looked into his eyes and in reality you didn’t even want to. Instead you focused on your shallow breathing, trying to calm down the prickling sensation that had formed across your body. But that was near impossible with the way Naoya was continuing to drill into you.

Your cunt was still in overdrive with the way he was going, squeezing him as if it didn’t know what else to do. You weren’t sure if you wanted him to stop or not, so hooked on the sensation he was giving you that you found yourself numb to it all. 

“Fuck, would you stop that,” he groaned, fingers digging into the bones of your hips. 

“I can’t- I can’t help it,” you choked up. 

“It’s like your pussy is begging me to cum,” he hissed, pressing his forehead against yours. Even though he sounded angry about it, he didn’t look angry and you weren’t sure how to take it. “Do you want me to cum inside you?” 

You didn’t know what to say, too scared to say the wrong thing. 

Luckily he answered for you, spilling into you with a few sloppy thrusts. 

It was only when he stilled on top of you, both of you barely able to look at each other did reality start seeping back in. All you wanted to do was shut it out though, clearly in no right state of mind to be thinking about anything other than what was taking place in these four walls.

You wanted to sleep, you had thought, eyes fluttering shut when Naoya finally had left you alone on the bed. And when you finally felt the restraints around your hand loosen, you believed sleep was going to be easy. 

However Naoya seemed to have other plans, yanking your frame back onto him as crawled into the space behind you. 

“Did you seriously think we were done?” he whispered in your ear, cock lining up with your entrance. “I don’t think I have fully broken yet.”

TAGLIST: @mammons-wife @integers

[ghcstao3]

marine biologist/diver!ghost x selkie!soap au Thoughts

marine biologist ghost who, whenever he has spare time, will go diving with some colleagues to collect trash from the ocean—because maybe it doesn’t make a huge, immediate impact, but it still means something is being done.

then one day while diving, ghost is accompanied by a seal. at first it only observes, and ghost is plenty happy to admire from afar, but then the seal is cozying up to him. it latches onto his leg, nudges him with its snout—even directs ghost and his group to trash that’s otherwise pretty well hidden, wedged beneath coral and rocks and sand.

it saddens ghost, just a little, when the sky starts getting dark and they have to head back. he doesn’t want to abandon his new friend—it’s rare they have wildlife hang around for this long—but unfortunately it’s not safe to wait any longer before going home.

but then the next time they’re able to go diving, the seal is there again. it plays at the same routine, helping out and goofing around, sticking dutifully by ghost’s side even when there’s others along with him. and time after time, it’s the same thing. no matter where the group is, the seal somehow always finds him. they end up lending it the nickname soap, after the odd amount of empty bottles of cleaning products the seal seems to locate for them.

it’s maybe a few months later that soap doesn’t show up, and it’s an instant cause for concern; there’s no reason soap should be missing. they’re in a similar area that the seal likely frequents, there’s no reason for soap to have moved or be huddled away with other seals to have pups.

the group worries, but there’s nothing they can do but theorize and assume as they carry out their regular chore. it’s only a once-off, by this point. maybe soap just didn’t feel like coming out to play just this one time.

but it happens again and again. soap doesn’t appear once, and it has the group of scientists worried sick. but without a tracker, or even a real idea of where soap might frequent when he’s not helping the group, there’s nothing they can do.

they return to shore later than usual one night. it’s completely dark by the time they dock, and ghost waves everyone ahead to go home because they’re all tired, he can manage clean-up by himself.

ghost is just about finished packing up when he sees the figure at the end of the dock. the marina is like a ghost town otherwise, nothing but the sound of turning waves and boats gentle bumping up against the port. ghost approaches slowly, not knowing what other business one could possibly have at the water this late.

“you lost, mate?” ghost wonders cautiously.

the figure steps closer, silver moonlight revealing some of his features. the man looks about ghost’s age, maybe younger—only it’s hard to tell with the haggard look on his face, as he nervously wrings his fingers and avoids ghost’s gaze.

“i’m… sorry i haven’t been around,” he apologizes, and ghost frowns. “someone… someone took my coat.”

ghost’s brow furrows. “i don’t… your coat? i’m not sure i underst—“

“my coat,” the man affirms. “i need it to swim. which is why i haven’t been able to help lately.”

not certain how it’s possible, ghost grows even more confused. he doesn’t get it—a coat to swim? being able to help? nothing makes sense.

“you’ve lost me,” ghost says, shaking his head. “wish i could help, but—“

as ghost tries to push past, the man seizes his arm. he peers up at ghost pleadingly, and while ghost had wanted to conclude the man was drunk or high or something—he hesitates, seeing that look.

“have you ever heard of selkies?” the man asks, an edge of desperation in his voice.

ghost shrugs. “sure i have.” he’s hardly well-versed in mythical creatures, but he knows the gist.

the man doesn’t say anything—just continues to look at ghost with those sad eyes, a plea for understanding like an explanation couldn’t be spoken aloud. so ghost thinks on it a moment.

the coat, the inability to swim without it. not helping out and not being there starting to sound like a reference to soap. to the seal.

ghost’s eyebrows nearly raise to his hairline in disbelief.

“you’re not really saying you’re soap, are you?”

maybe-soap frowns. “who’s that?”

right. “i mean the seal that’s been following our diving trips,” ghost clarifies. “and you’re saying… because your coat is gone—“

“taken,” soap corrects, “i couldn’t go. i wanted to find you, but i didn’t know how, and… and…”

soap looks frazzled, like his brain has disconnected from his mouth and hands in empty gestures in words trying to convey what he’s thinking.

ghost tentatively sets his crate of gear on the wooden planks of the dock before placing his hands on either one of soap’s shoulders. maybe the story isn’t all there, and maybe there’s still doubt in ghost’s head about any of it being the truth—but ultimately, ghost believes the man. believes it’s soap.

slowly, ghost says, “calm down, and tell me how i can help. we’ll get your coat back, yeah?”

soap offers him a shy, watery smile—but a smile nonetheless. he nods and begins to tell ghost everything.

it doesn’t take long before they’re hatching a plan to win back soap’s freedom.

[saintrvckwell]

Lead me to the truth and I will follow you with my whole life (joel miller x platonic!reader)

joel miller x platonic!reader

summary: perhaps now, twenty one years later, joel finally found the courage to face his fears. aka joel finally allows himself to accept the role he has in your life.

warnings: father-figure joel miller (more like an invitation rather than warning), fluff, slight angst at times, father-daughter duo kind of moments.

words count: 9.5k

a/n: joel miller was always the coolest father but pedro's portrayal took that to a whole new level. dedicated to all the daddy issues strugglers out there (myself included). here's the dad you deserved to have.

ps: this is my first work focused solely on joel's character so be patient with me. <3

enjoy!

"and I will go if you ask me to. and I will stay if you dare."

•

You were a mission, something that was supposed to have a beginning and the end. Someone he was supposed to lead to a given location and walk away. It was supposed to be easy—that what Tess promised to Joel when she begged him to take you, fulfilling her dying wish. How easy it was for her to ask, how difficult it was for Joel to keep that promise.

There was a reason as for why was Joel so reluctant to take you—to temporarily care for you. Reason unknown to you. He was cold from the day you met him; made sure you knew all the rules and understood that whatever role you were going to assign him, he was not going to take it. After all, that was what he promised himself.

To keep his distance, to put the walls up and protect himself from the possibility of being hurt again. But you were too determined to tear them all down.

And at a certain point, he didn’t know for whom he was fighting anymore. To protect himself from you or to protect you from him? You’ve encountered things, places, people and tragedies one could only fear.

And with each strike he took, with each throat he slit before they lied their hands on you, Joel fell deeper. Into the sense of protection that was rising within him each time a danger appeared in your sight. Before he knew it, he was in the same spot he was twenty years ago.

That’s when the breaking point came. And he turned around, grabbed your hand and walked back to the only place that could’ve offered you the life you deserved. And deep down hoped Tess would’ve understood. In the end, he kept the promise—he made sure you were safe, more than that. He gave you the opportunity of the best life you could’ve had, given the fungal conditions around.

And you didn’t protest, didn’t utter a single objection. Because you would’ve followed Joel to the edge of the universe and back.

Or at least to Jackson.

You arrived at dawn, holding tightly onto his back, nearly falling asleep on the horse. The last few weeks you’ve spent outside were taking its toll on you. It was deadly cold out there with temperating falling down every second. You heard his voice, calling out your name three times before you opened your eyes. You were standing by the stables with Joel’s younger brother walking towards you.

“We’re here,” Joel whispered.

“Oh,” you yawned. “I’m sorry,” you pulled your hands away and slowly got off the horse with Tommy immediately offering his help.

“Good to see you,” he smiled politely, “both of you,” his eyes landed on his brother.

You waited outside whilst Joel and Tommy stabled the horse.

“So,” Tommy spoke again as soon as the three of you were together, “how long is it this time?”

And your eyes met with Joel. He shrugged his shoulders and briefly looked at you before his eyes met with Tommy’s again.

Joel was never good with words which you learned pretty quickly. It was all about his subtle actions—that’s how the two of you bonded. For all those days on the road and nights under the dark skies, you never led any deep conversations, instead found a comfort in each other’s presence. In your signals.

Being back in Jackson felt strange at first. Accustoming to such world after months in the wildness was odd to say the least. But it felt easier with Joel by your side—or at least, that’s what you were hoping for since he brought you here. Yet, after a few days in, you couldn’t overlook the way he was trying to distance himself from you.

First, it was about the house.

With the previous one being given to a family that recently came to Jackson, Maria and Tommy had to find a new place for you.

“I wanted you to have something of your own,” Joel admitted one night whilst the two of you were sitting in the kitchen, eating leftovers. “But Maria said they’re full right now. As soon as something opens, I will let you know… if you’d like.”

You were caught off guard by that.

There was a part of you that hoped—no, that took this as a foregone conclusion that you and Joel would be living together. You couldn’t even picture yourself being alone considering how accustomed you’ve gotten to Joel’s constant presence. In certain sense, he represented some sort of safety blanket. He was the reason you came to Jackson in the first place.

Perhaps, you thought, now that his job was done, he might have thought that the two of you should go your separate ways. At the end of the day, he wasn’t your family—just someone who was promised to look after you.

Perhaps, you were not as significant to him as he was to you. There were too many scenarios running through your anxious mind. But you never asked.

Then, it was the patrol duty.

When Tommy showed up at your doorstep, three days after your arrival, he mentioned that kids your age were starting to learn how to shoot so they could join the junior patrol groups.

“You should go,” Joel proposed once Tommy left. “Tommy’s good with guns. You’re going to learn from the best.”

He sounded almost uninterested.

You looked up from your bowl of breakfast, hurt glancing in your eyes.

And he quickly became aware of that.

“What?” he asked and you didn’t know whether it was care or rather annoyance that you heard in his voice.

“You promised you were going to teach me how to shoot.”

There it was again in his eyes—the regret.

He thought, with genuine worry in his heart, that giving you space was what you wanted—what you deserved. Without realising he was hurting you both in the process.

Joel didn’t know how to walk in this, how to approach this new situation he found himself in. He wanted you around, he wanted to make sure were alright. But didn’t know how.

That afternoon, when you left the house to join Tommy and the rest of the kids, Joel was already gone. His brother had him signed on old kinds of duty around the settlement—giving him an opportunity to contribute. And as much as Joel complained and growled, he like the idea of being of use—being needed.

You arrived by the Tipsy Bison, joining the group of kids standing around and registered.

A young man, approximately in his early twenties looked upon the list of names he was holding before his eyes met with yours.

“You’re signed on the East Gate, Tommy’s waiting for you there,” he informed you.

You squeezed the straps of your backpack as you walked by the stables, nervously looking around. You were still trying to adjust but it felt so difficult at times, especially when you were alone. Tommy was nice, considering he most likely knew nothing about you, beside what Joel must have told him. But you didn’t felt that kind of safety you had around Joel.

Joel, who was standing three feet away from you, with riffle hanging over his shoulder.

Maybe he joined the patrol group as well, you thought as you headed towards him.

“Do you know where Tommy is?” you asked as you looked around, looking for his brother.

Joel frowned, almost offended.

“Am I not capable enough?” he mumbled playfully.

You couldn’t quite comprehend what was going on.

“What?”

Before you uttered another mumble of confusion, Joel stepped closer and handed you the riffle.

“C’mon kid, it’s gonna be dark soon.”

The gate opened and Joel headed outside the safety, with you following his steps. There was a smile on your lips as you looked up and saw him, already explaining the route you were going to take—the high spots you were searching for. This was his way of apologising—his way of trying to do better.

Of making sure you knew that.

That day, you spent the whole afternoon together. What was supposed to be a regular two hour training that most kids took Joel turned into five, with the two of you coming back shortly after sundown, already past dinner time. It was the first time in a while you saw Joel genuinely laugh as he watched you struggling to reach the target.

You returned to Jackson with an empty magazine and one successful shot. But as you the two of you were walking home, side by side—it didn’t matter to you. It didn’t matter how terrible your aim was, how much of Tommy’s ammo you waisted. What mattered to you was the look in Joel's eyes, the smile on his lips he had as he was watching you.

He let his guard down, even if it was just for a second. And there he was—the Joel that was watching stars with you on the road.

It was about these moments. They meant whole world to you.

“You hungry?” he asked as you passed the dining hall.

You shook your head. “I’m alright. Besides, I think we’re already past the dinner time.”

“Are you sure? I haven’t seen you eat since breakfast,” he commented. “I could make you something at home.”

Home.

It stuck with you.

He didn’t think about it when he said that. Perhaps, that was the revelation you were waiting for. That Joel felt the same way and what you had was, indeed, a home.

Joel’s parental instincts were always there, no matter how determined he was to suppress them. Every night on the road, he stood by your side with gun in his hand, every time you fell asleep without ur blanket, Joel made sure you were tucked in. Each time he promised himself it would be the last. But always failed to do so.

Truth was, without the fear of enemies lurking in every corner and in the safety of Jackson’s settlement, it was easier to slip back into his old, fatherly habits without even realising. Only took a few weeks for Joel to accustom to this life—to having you around every day.

You sat together for breakfast every morning and met by the gates every afternoon after your assignments ended to take you for another shooting lesson.

Month later, you hit three out of six targets. Each time, he stood beside, that proud smirk on his lips. Three weeks after that, you hit five of them. That night, Joel even offered to take you to the movies as a reward for your successful lesson.

You were so excited—you wanted to join the others for so long but didn’t feel like going by yourself so having Joel propose that idea felt quite nice. But after all the training and another two hour long shooting lesson, you started to get weary. Twenty minutes into the movie, your head crashed onto Joel’s shoulder as you slowly fell asleep. His eyes landed on your sleepy face and there it was again—that smile. The one he didn’t have in a while.

Two hours later, you woke up in half empty dining hall.

“Need a hand?” you heard a familiar voice around you, mixed with laughter.

“I got it,” Joel replied.

A few seconds later, Joel’s hand caressed your cheek. “Kid?”

You quickly became aware of your pposition and immediately pulled away, despite the tiredness still wearing off.

“Shit,” you whispered, rubbing your sleepy eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Joel shook his head. “Let’s go get your jacket.”

He got up and you, still not fulling woken up, followed his steps. Joel noticed how somnolent you were, so he walked you to the door, helped you put on the your jacket, wished Maria and Tommy good night before you headed out back to your place.

You were barely seeing above your own feet, tiredness still having power over you as you struggled to keep up with Joel’s pace. Didn’t take long for him to realise that you were two feet behind. He swiftly turned around, rushing towards you.

“I’m so tired,” you yawned. “I just want to lie down.”

“Absolutely not,” Joel mumbled. “Let’s go, we’re two streets away.”

“That’s so far,” you whined. “I could just lie down right here and fall sleep.”

He couldn’t help but laugh over your statement. He stepped closer, threw his hand around your shoulder and pulled you closer to keep you warm. “Two streets and we’re home.”

There it was again.

Being too tired to notice, you paid no mind. This time it was Joel who was caught off guard by his own words. As the two you walked through the quiet streets of his brother’s settlement, it slowly dawned on him. There was no point in denying. It was a home—to you, to him. Even if he wasn’t strong enough to admit it out loud, it was your home.

Three weeks later, Jackson county was covered in snow. Due to an ongoing blizzard, all of Joel’s shooting lessons were postponed until further notice, as Maria prohibited him from taking you outside the settlement in such unpredictable conditions.

That afternoon, she showed up unannounced by the east gate—already figuring out your and Joel’s teaching schedule. To keep the two of you busy, she signed you to decoration duty instead.

As the holiday season was slowly approaching, the whole settlement was getting ready.

Joel’s disgruntlement over her orders couldn’t be more obvious. But he swallowed his need to object and accepted the orders, leaving you in Maria’s hands.

“I’m going to be honest with you, I don’t like those little trips of yours,” Maria admitted whilst the two of you were scavenging the decorations for the Christmas tree Tommy, Joel and other men were putting up.

You shrugged your shoulders, “We’re not going that far. Just around the settlement.”

“Why can’t you just go with the other kids at school?” she asked.

“Don’t you always say that we should only head out there with those we trust?”

She saw the look in your eyes and knew there was no need to say anything more. You knew she meant well—Maria wanted you to adjust to this place, to make friends of your own age. But she was also aware of the fact that separating you from Joel would do more harm than good. She did not agree with most of his actions but still respected that man. After all, he was her family.

That day, you got there late. Joel was already back, sitting in the living room with book in his lap. As interesting as the crime thriller could have been, Joel’s attention was elsewhere. Sitting in an old chair by the window, he was impatiently waiting for your arrival. It was shortly after nine when you came. As soon as he saw you on the porch, he grabbed the book, suddenly finding interest in every line.

You entered the dark hall, seeing the only source of light coming from the living room. That’s when Joel finally looked up, seeing you standing there with snowflakes in your hair.

“Hey, didn’t hear you coming,” he greeted you, closing the book. “How was your decorating duty?”

“How was yours?” you mumbled sarcastically, ready to roll your eyes.

Joel chuckled over your reaction. “Fair enough.”

For a second, the awkward silence crept in until Joel spoke again.

“I grabbed you some food on the way back,” he announced. “Left it in the fridge for you.”

“Oh… thanks,” you whispered, quite taken aback by that gesture. “But uh, Maria took me to dinner…so.”

“It’s okay,” he shook his head.

There was a reassuring smile on his lips—even if it was for a moment.

“By the way…” Joel spoke again, sensing that you wanted to head upstairs. Once he got your attention again, he continued: “Tommy asked me today if we’d want to join him and Maria for Christmas Eve dinner next week.”

We.

You tried to hide that unexpected excitement his words left in you, yet Joel still managed to spot that glimpse of sparks in your eyes.

“It’s not mandatory, so if you don’t want—“

“No!” you interrupted him. “I mean yes… yes, we can go.”

“Oh,” he whispered, surprised by your sudden reaction. “Alright then, I’ll tell Tommy.”

After that, the awkward silence appeared again. You stood there for moment or two before Joel considered that it was time to go—he wished you good night and quietly disappeared upstairs, whilst you stayed there for another second. It was so unusual to see Joel this nervous and you wondered what could’ve been the cause of that.

With the holidays approaching, the thought of the old days was harder to avoid, especially with all those children running around. Everywhere he went, he saw her, saw the memories tied to her. It was easier to avoid those when he lived in Boston. The only haunting things were his nightmares which he usually deadened with a bottle of whisky and sack of pills. But here in Jackson, it was different. There was the glimpse of normal life—as normal as one could get in such world. It was way too easy to look at those luckier than him and wonder what could been.

That could been the root of the problem as for why Joel struggled with the way he felt about you. Each time he grew closer, it frightened him. He was frightened by the idea of encountering the same pain again because he knew that this time—he couldn’t bear through. He couldn’t suffer through the loss of another daughter.

Because that's who you were for Joel.

You were his daughter. Despite the numerous times he tried to fight, despite his inability to express this, deep down, Joel knew it. Even as terrifying as it was to admit it, you were his kid. He never stopped being a dad, he was just now yours.

And when he lied awake that night, he made a decision. Maybe it was time to stop running away from it—to stop running away from you.

When you woke the next morning, something felt different. Dressed up and ready, you ran down the stairs, surprised to see what was in front of you. Lighted and decorated, there was a Christmas tree standing by the fireplace. You couldn’t quite comprehend that sight.

It was barely after eight o’clock. You couldn’t help but wonder when did Joel managed to do this. In the kitchen, you found a message on the table along with a piece of apple pie that he must have brought from the dining hall.

Tommy and I had to leave early, there’s been accident at the power plant. Maria’s going to bring you dinner tonight. We should be back in a few days but if not, Merry Christmas kid.

— Joel

A part of you felt saddened over the thought of Joel possibly missing the Christmas Eve. But at the same time—you couldn’t help but smile over him doing all of this before he left. Putting the Christmas tree, getting you breakfast. He wanted to make sure you would still have good time, despite him missing it.

Later that day, Maria stopped by with dinner. As soon as she entered the hall, she couldn’t overlook the shining Christmas three. You two dined together in silence, washed the dishes and even offered for you to stay at their place until Joel and Tommy return. But as kind as her offer was, you politely declined. That night, you fell asleep on the couch, staring at those lights, hoping Joel was alright.

The blizzard out there wasn’t going away anytime soon. Each morning, whilst walking to your training, you couldn’t stop worrying. You knew he was more than capable of taking care of himself, yet that didn’t stop the ongoing fear that was rising within you each time you came home and he wasn’t there.

The house felt so empty without him there. Even though the two of you spend most of your time in silence or in separate rooms, you both had your comfort in each other’s presence. The idea of Joel being door away from you felt reassuring. Naively, you never thought that could change. In this sense, Jackson has softened you. Those gates around gave you sense of protection.

But he didn’t have that.

Each night, you waited. Sitting in his old chair by the window, you held your switchblade between your fingers and waited until you fell asleep. Fell asleep with a hope and woke with coldness wrapping around your body and disappointment that dawned on you when you found his room empty.

Three days before Christmas, you felt the need to express your anxiousness to Maria.

“The plant is a few of miles away. And with the snowstorm out there, it would be too dangerous to head back in such conditions,” she explained. “They’ll be back soon, you’ll see.”

You knew she was worried as well. But she did much better job at hiding it. She promised you that even if Joel and Tommy didn’t make it in time, you would still celebrate the Christmas Eve, together. And as much as you appreciated that effort—you didn’t care about celebrations of any kind. The only thing you cared about was Joel.

On twenty third of December, the clouds of fog and heavy flakes of snow finally disappeared. Yet there was no sign of Joel nor Tommy. You waited by the East Gate whole afternoon until your fingers felt numb from the coldness. You waited there until the sundown when Maria came to pick you up. You protested, begging her to let you stay up with men from the night watch.

“You’ll wait for him at home,” she insisted. “C’mon, Y/N. You’re freezing.”

But you didn’t care and she knew. But there was no point in fighting with her. You sighed, jumped down from the lookout and with disappointment hidden behind your eyes, you returned to that empty house. That night, you sat in that chair with switchblade in your hand—just like all those previous nights and waited.

On the twenty four of December, Christmas Eve, you were sitting by the kitchen table with Joel’s note in your hand.

“We should be back in a few days but if not, Merry Christmas kid.”

The chances of Joel and Tommy returning before the Christmas dinner were slimmer with each hour that past. At noun, it was decided that small group of patrollers would head to that plant and bring them back. With the weather conditions improving, you knew there must have been a different reason as for why they were still not coming back. And Maria knew it as well, despite her best efforts to keep you calm.

“There’s Christmas dance going on at the hall tonight. We could go if you’d like,” Maria offered when the two of you met at the stables. “Or we could still make the dinner.”

“I think I’ll just stay home,” you whispered, grabbing your backpack from the floor. “I’m quite tired. And I have the kindergarten duty tomorrow, so.”

“Y/N—?”

“Just tired, really,” you interrupted her. “Don’t worry.”

“Alright then,” she sighed, not trying to persuade you. “But tomorrow—dinner at my house. No excuses, six o’clock sharp.”

You felt guilty for declining again. So this time, you agreed to her proposal. After all, you could really use a moment out of your house. Maria meant well, she cared about you and she wasn’t exactly happy with the thought of you being all alone there.

On your way back, you passed the gate again, stayed a second or two and waited. For a moment, you thought you could sneak out tonight and try bribing one of those junior patrols guys at the watch to let you sneak up there. But you knew one of them would tell and you didn’t want to cause any more unnecessary worry for Maria. She already cut you a lot of slack with all those assignments you signed yourself off of.

When the clock stroke eight, you lost all your hope that Joel could make it before midnight. But knew that he wouldn’t want you to stare out of that window forever. So you decided to stop by the Christmas dance to grab a dinner, at least. When you returned, you lit a candle and sat down by the tree. Though as much as you tried, your eyes always landed on that view.

Shortly before midnight, you headed upstairs to his bedroom. His bed has not been made since the day he left. There wasn’t much of sight of him, besides the stuff in the clothes where you were headed. You opened the wooden door and took out his old jacket. Maria forced two of you to get rid of most of your old clothes and gave you new, not ripped and stained ones, but he still kept that one jacket.

You took it off the hanger and put over your sweater. It still had it scent.

With that, you went back and with switchblade in your hand, you sat down on the stairs on the front porch. You heard the celebratory noises coming from the hall but didn’t feel the need to join. Instead, you looked up at the stars.

During one of those night out there, you told Joel how much you loved the constellations and even showed him some of them—which he found profoundly interesting, as much as he tried to tell otherwise.

There you saw it—Big Dipper. The one you showed him, the only one he managed to spot.

That’s when midnight stroke.

And tears rolled down your face. As you looked ahead and saw the darkness.

And a shadow.

Shadow of a man.

For a second, you thought you could blame it on your somnolent mind. But when your name slipped from his lips, twice, it wasn’t your imagination anymore.

It was Joel.

“Joel?” you whispered as you saw him, heading towards you.

You couldn’t quite believe it.

“Joel!” you called out, not waiting another second to rush towards him, meeting him halfway.

He was out of the darkness, standing right there in front of you.

It was him.

But the smile you had on your lips faded away the second you saw a blood seeping through the fabric on his right leg.

“Are you—“ you gasped, eyes landing on his injury.

He immediately realised where your mind went.

“No,” he reassured you, stepping closer. “It’s just an injury, a scratch. Nothing more.”

You noticed the trouble he had whilst walking.

“I still have aid kit in my backpack upstairs,” you mumbled, worried thoughts jumping from one another in your mind. “It’s not much but I can fix it. I could just go and fix it, just let me—“

“Y/N!”

His voice echoed in your ears. Suddenly, he stood right in front of you, his cold hands grabbing both of your puffy cheeks. There was one thing you had in common in that very moment. The fear that rose in both of you, the worry that was put on display when you looked into his eyes. You couldn’t hold it together anymore, despite the efforts.

“I thought,” you gasped between the sobs, “I thought you didn’t come because…”

“No,” Joel reassured you again, this time with a smile on his lips. “See? I didn’t. I’m alright, I’m alright.”

“Joel,” you whimpered, trying to comprehend what was going on.

And as he saw you, standing there in his old jacket, freezing and crying—if there were any remaining walls, they all fell down. In that moment, every single one of his parental instincts kicked the minute he pulled you into his arms.

“I’m alright, kiddo,” he whispered, caressing your hair as you cried out. “I’m alright.”

As soon as you pulled away, Joel threw his hand over your shoulder as you quickly helped him get inside. Sitting him down on the couch, you ran upstairs, throwing the backpack on the bed as you impatiently took out one thing after another until you find the first aid kit. Only then you rushed downstairs, fix Joel’s wounds.

You almost tripped over your own feet.

He was sitting in the same spot, eyes landing on the lightened Christmas tree.

After you sewed his injury, the two of you sat there in silence. Neither of you needed the words in order to embrace the comfort you had in each other’s presence. You sat there, watching the lights until you fell asleep on his shoulder. In that moment—Joel didn’t need anything else. He was home.

“Merry Christmas, kid,” he whispered, looking down on you.

Twenty minutes past midnight, Joel made it.

But then the dawn came.

You woke up, eight hours later, finally without those worries hanging over your head. In the same spot you fell asleep, only with blanket covering your body. It was quiet, peaceful. Until you slowly awakened and your eyes landed on the wall clock above the living room dresser.

Within a second, you were up on your feet.

“Shit!” you yelled out, ignoring the possibility of Joel, still being asleep.

With tiredness wearing off, you tripped over your feet tree times, with each almost landing on your face. You quickly changed your clothes and ran back downstairs.

And there he was.

Leaning against the kitchen desk with cup of coffee in his hand, Joel couldn’t overlook the distress pictured all over you.

“Ever heard of a hairbrush?” he commented your appearance, being in the mood to have a little dig at you.

You didn’t have the time to roll your eyes over his words.

“I’m running late,” you whispered, looking around, trying to find your backpack. “I was supposed be at the kindergarten twenty minutes ago!” you cried out, stressed, trying to find your possessions. “Maria’s going to kill me. And where is that fucking thing?”

“Tried your room?” Joel proposed, visibly being amused by your current state.

“Dammit!” you yelled out, running back upstairs.

Within seconds, you were rushing back down, pushing your switchblade into your back-pocket.

“Gotta go—!” before you managed the disappear outside, Joel’s voice stopped you.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he headed towards you.

You turned from the doors, “to my assignment? I already missed most of them this week. Can’t screw this one as well.”

“Where’s your other jacket? The down one that Maria brought the other day?”

You stared at his, utterly confused over that question.

“What?” you shook your head. “What are you talking about?”

“Y/N, it’s freezing out there, you’re not going in this,” he pointed to your windbreaker.

In this moment, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“I don’t have time for this—“

“Y/N, this is not open for discussion,” he stepped closer. “Go and get the other jacket.”

“Joel—!”

“Now, Y/N,” he repeated, admonishing look in his eyes.

He was never more parental than in that moment as he watched you grumpily running upstairs to grab your other jacket.

You came down, clothes changed.

“Now hat, and gloves. Where are your gloves?”

“Seriously?!”

There was something unimaginably funny as he watched you losing your temper when you did a second round of running and came back, redness in your cheeks.

You put it on and looked at Joel, annoyance expressed all over your face.

“Happy?” you mumbled sarcastically, grabbing your backpack from the floor.

“That you’re not going to freeze out there? Yes, I am,” he shrugged his shoulder. “Although,” he stepped closer and pulled the zip of your down jacket up to the top. “Now, I am.”

You rolled your eyes, once again.

He couldn’t help but chuckle over that response.

“You’re warm enough?” he asked.

“I’m sweating like a pig, Joel.”

“Better than freezing, don’t you think?” he couldn’t help but have another dig at you. “If you caught cold, I would be the one running around you.”

“Well, I couldn’t rob you of your favourite I told you moment, could I?” you grinned. “Besides, with this leg… you can barely walk so I don’t know what running you’re talking about, old man.”

He bursted into laughter.

“You're such a stubborn pain the ass, you know that?” he observed between laughs.

But then it happened.

“Okay, dad.”

That one sentence that was supposed to be an innocent joke—a little dig.

Carrying little no meaning.

Until you saw how Joel’s eyes suddenly shifted. And the laughter was no longer there. The spark was gone and he stood there, quiet and frozen. Stiff and numb over your words.

It’s been more than twenty one years since he last heard that.

His heart dropped into his stomach, the world around became too heavy.

There she was, in his mind again. That day, that exact moment. His eyes landed on his watch.

He heard his name coming out of your mouth, three times before he looked up—seeing the genuine worry displayed right in front of him.

“Joel—?“

“Go,” he whispered, so coldly.

You shook your head, confused. “Joel, are you—?”

“Go,” he repeated. “Your assignment is waiting. Leave.”

You stood there for two second, before you heard him again—urging you to leave. All at once, you couldn’t recognise him. You had no idea what caused this strange reaction, but didn’t dare to ask. Instead, you obeyed. You bowed your head and walked out of your house.

Each step you take, the further you were from the house, the more guilt was rising within you. What could you have done to displease him this much?

You’ve experienced Joel’s anger a few times, while the two of you were on the road. To be honest, Joel’s patience was thin and you knew what strings to pull to get him into rage. Him yelling at you became a daily routine at one point. But you’ve never seen him like this. The stare he had, the emptiness in his eyes.

As if you were dead to him. Truth was, you would much rather had him screaming at you than being this eerily quiet.

You arrived to your assignment and quickly got to work, hoping no one would notice your delay. But even with the amount of work you had around, you couldn’t stop thinking about that odd encounter with Joel. What could’ve been that made him so upset?

Could’ve been the joke, you thought. But it was an innocent statement, with not much truth in it. Or was it? Or was it something that accidentally carried more truth that you were willing to let on? Could Joel sense that?

One too many scenarios running through your worried mind.

“Y/N?” Maria’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

You looked up and saw her, standing by the door.

“Hey,” you mumbled, putting the basket with toys on the floor. “What’s going on?”

“Just checking in,” she replied, smile on her lips. “I stopped by your place but forgot your had your duty today. Wanted to take Joel to infirmary but looks like you already took care of that.”

“Oh, yeah. It was nothing,” you whispered, eyes landing on the floor, the desire to avoid every conversation that included his name rising with each second. “I have a lot to finish today, so…”

“I won’t keep you any longer,” Maria laughed. “Just wanted to say that since Tommy and Joel got back in one piece, we thought we could have the Christmas dinner today. After all, the holidays are still on.”

“I don’t think Joel’s in mood for celebration of any kind,” you admitted.

“I already talked to him and he agreed.”

So maybe he managed to cool down, you thought. Or at least, you were hoping for that.

Maria stayed for a few more minutes, asking you to come earlier tonight to help prepare the dinner. She freed you from your afternoon assignments to have enough time to change and get ready. You stayed at the kindergarten until one in the afternoon, then helped for two hours at the stables before you headed back to your house.

You learned from her that both Tommy and Joel had a day off so part of you hoped you would run into him. But when you came, the house was empty. Joel’s backpack and gun were lying by the chair but he was nowhere to be found—as you searched every room around. You tried to not think much of that but there were still those doubts inside you.

Luckily, you were running out of time—which meant you had to hurry up and pull yourself out of your worried mind. You didn’t have any decent clothes to wear, except for the regular ones. So you just grabbed a clean sweater, pants and tied your hair up before you headed to Maria’s.

When you arrived, Maria was already cutting the vegetables in the kitchen. You let yourself in, throwing the jacket on the hanger in the hall as she called you in. It was the first time you were in their home as they mostly came to visit you and Joel. It was much bigger than what the two of you had but all those details displayed around implied that they’ve been here for quite some time. Each corner had a track of them. There were pictures on the walls, books on the coffee table with an empty cup, flower pots on the windowsill.

But what caught your attention was a board, resting on the top of the fireplace.

You didn’t mean to snoop but when you saw those names, you couldn’t look away. There were two of them, along with four dates. Took only few seconds for you to realise what this was supposed to meant.

Shivers went down your spine. Especially once you heard Maria calling you again.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, rushing into the kitchen.

“It’s alright, just finish these carrots,” she handed you the knife. “I need to start preparing the meat.”

You took the orders without any objections.

You wondered. Were they Tommy’s or Maria’s children? Or did each belong to one of them? You wouldn’t guess the two of them to experience such loss since they’ve both seen so well put together.

But you knew yourself how easy it was to put up a believable surface. You did that after Tess’s death, despite how painful it was to lose someone so close. You didn’t have any other option. Maybe they were once in a similar position.

Eventually, every person finds a way to live with their pain. They either face it or suppress that, deep down.

You only now realised how important must have been this child to Tommy and Maria. Get a second chance in a world like this was almost a miracle.

“Tommy’s memorial caught your attention?”

Almost as if she read your mind.

You startled, nearly accidentally cutting yourself.

“I wasn’t… you mumbled, embarrassed. “I didn’t… I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Maria looked up, reassuring smile on her lips.

She was kind, like always.

“I’m sorry about your kids.”

So you felt the need to let her know.

Her eyes locked with yours again, “Thank you. Although, just a kid, Kevin.”

“Oh,” you nodded. “So Sarah was Tommy’s daughter?”

“She was his niece,” Maria replied, still preparing the meet.

In that moment, the world around stopped for a second.

Tommy’s niece.

Meaning?

You had to take a deep breath.

“So, she was…” you swallowed, feeling the frog in your throat growing bigger each second.

“Joel’s daughter,” Maria finished your sentence, paying no mind to your current state.

Joel’s daughter.

Joel had a daughter. A daughter just three years younger than you.

You needed a moment to process this.

He used to be someone’s dad.

Then the last piece of the puzzle was found. And the mystery was solved.

And your shattered heart dropped into your stomach.

He used to be a dad.

Suddenly, it all made sense. Suddenly, you’ve never felt worse. For what you said, for being so cruel. All those days, all those moments, all his words—all at once it made sense. It was the last clue you needed to win the prize. Was it worth though, was the question.

“Y/N?” you heard Maria’s voice calling your name.

Three times before you looked up, still a little spaced out.

“He didn’t…” she whispered, putting two and two together. “Oh…”

“That’s alright,” you shook your head. “It’s not your fault.”

You didn’t know how to approach this newly revealed information, how to solve the problem without causing even more of them. Joel was never the most sharing individual, neither of the two of you was. Though you couldn’t blame him. He was keeping this inside of him for more than twenty years. One could one fear how difficult that must have been.

“How did it happen?” you dared to ask.

Maria looked you. She knew this wasn’t her place to talk but still gave in. “I don’t know the details. Just that it was the day of the outbreak.”

You thought there was no chance this could get any worse.

“Day after Joel’s birthday.”

Somehow it did.

And you felt even more guilty for asking these questions in the first place.

You thought of this afternoon, when you were rushing back to your house, hoping you would find Joel there. Now you were on the verge of praying to every none-existent higher power that he could change his mind and not come. You wanted to do everything you could to avoid him, out of the shame that you were feeling.

That of course, did not happened.

At half past six, Tommy arrived from Tipsy Bison with bottle of scotch and smile on his lips. He had a stitch above his eyebrows, meaning both him and Joel were involved in whatever fight that went down at power plant, probably with those raiders Maria kept mentioning. Greeting both of you, he kissed Maria on the cheek, placed on the bottle on the kitchen desk and disappeared upstairs to change his clothes.

Thirty minutes after him, Joel arrived.

You were in the middle of settling the dinner table when you heard the door slam. You paid no mind, placing the four plates on their spots. Only when you turned to get the cutlery, you saw Joel standing by the coffee table—his eyes immediately landing on you.

The fear in your face was difficult to overlook. For a second, your sight shifted from Joel to the memorial board right next to him.

For a second.

Yet he still managed to catch that.

Without a thought, you turned around and headed towards the kitchen to grab the tray with glasses and cutlery. When you came back, you saw him standing on the same spot. Only now, his full attention was directed towards that board before you caught his attention, again.

It didn’t take much for him to realise the nature of your behaviour—beside what happened this morning.

You stood there, staring at the each other. Your heart was pounding louder with each second, hands were sweating, the tray in your hands shaking. Only when Tommy’s voice called out for Joel, you looked away and went to finish your job.

Feeling even more ashamed than before, if it was still possible.

To say the dinner was awkward would have been an understatement. The four of you sat by the table in silence, with mostly Tommy or Maria leading the conversation. Their words and the conversation in general was revolving mainly around Jackson and things related to that as both of them sensed that none of you were in the mood. Maria kept checking on you—she didn’t miss how determined you were to avoid Joel’s eyes.

It was after dinner when you saw him lighten up a little. Tommy grabbed the bottle of scotch and took Joel into his little office space downstairs, right in the entrance hall. Which you and Maria used as an opportunity to wash the dishes.

You placed the dishes right next to the kitchen sink when you heard Tommy’s laugh.

“…it’s time consuming!”

Shortly, it was followed by Joel’s brief laughter. Still, it was nice to know he was easing up.

“It’s that stupid clock joke Tommy heard this morning,” Maria commented as you handed her the dishes, one by one.

There wasn’t any response coming from you. Your mind was too preoccupied for that.

And as much she didn’t want to cross the boundaries, she was worried about you.

“Joel cares about you, you know,” she spoke, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You looked up at her, handing her the plate.

“I’m not really sure about that right now,” you admitted. “Although, I couldn’t really blame him.”

“You worry too much,” Maria chuckled.

“Can you blame me?” you muttered, looking down.

“I had plenty of evidence to be confident in my previous claim.”

“Like what?” you sighed.

“A, he brought you here—“

“I saw him spare a rabbit once. So not leaving me out in the cold is not a strong argument.”

Maria chuckled again.

“He brought here and asked for the two of you to be placed together.”

Wait a minute.

You looked up once more, confused over Maria’s words.

“No,” you shook your head. “Joel said you just didn’t have any other place for me…”

“We have a few houses specifically for kids of your age. Since I knew your situation and wondered if it wouldn’t have been better to be around your peers. I offered that to Joel. But he insisted that you stay under his roof.”

That sudden new information needed a second to process.

You thought that, perhaps, he thought the two of should take your separate ways—that’s why he mentioned that you should have a place of your own. When in reality, he wanted you around. He asked to have you around.

“What’s B?”

Maria took a deep breath and placed the plate into the sink.

“It’s tough to lose a child, in any kind of world, fungal or not. And it is even harder to allow yourself to care this way again, for somebody else. Which is why you might have felt like he was pushing you away at times, maybe even right now. But despite his actions saying otherwise at times, you mean a whole world for him. You are his whole world.”

You wanted to believe every word of that statement. Because that’s what Joel was to you. After everything you’ve encountered, Joel was the closest thing to a family one could have in this world. And you wanted to believe that you carried that value for him as well.

“You just have to cut him some slack. He might be scared,” she continued.

“Scared of what?”

“Scared of having another chance to be a parent. It’s way too easy to screw that job, in every world.”

Maybe all you needed to understand Joel was one conversation with someone who was once in the same position.

Suddenly, each attribute of Joel’s personality, each strange detail about him pulled together a one, bigger picture. Although the losses in your life might not have been as traumatic as those of Joel’s, you were starting to understand him. And deep down, hoped that you didn’t blow up all your chances to fix what you’ve broken.

That evening, you headed home first. After you helped Maria clean everything, you asked her to tell Joel that you were tired and left early. Even though there was a part of you, wanting to run after him and apologise, you couldn’t do it. Once you heard his laugh, you knew you owed him a moment of peace. Your conversation could wait for another day or two.

It was first time since this morning there was even the slightest amusement on his face. Could’ve been the simple stupidity of that joke, the bizarreness that somehow made him chuckle. He stood there, leaning against the grey wall with scotch in his hand, trying so hard to suppress those laughs.

“You can laugh, it’s funny,” Tommy teased him, finishing the rest of his drink. “It’s a great joke.”

“A really lame one,” Joel commented, squeezing the glass in his hands.

“Well, you never really had a good sense of humour so,” Tommy chuckled.

Joel shrugged his shoulders over that statement, partially agreeing before he drank the rest of his liquid courage.

It was getting late, he wanted to head home and get some rest. He handed Tommy the empty glass, patted his shoulder and gave him a fleeting smile—enough to let him know that he was thankful for the distractions. Only then he went into the living room, looking for you.

He found Maria instead.

She knew the answer he came for in the first place.

“She left a few minutes ago,” Maria answered the implied question. “But she left this in here,” she turned around and grabbed pair of green gloves. “Could you give that to her?”

Joel nodded, bitting his lower lip, slowly immersing into his thoughts.

“Well,” he snapped out his head after a second, squeezing the gloves in his hands, “I should probably go too. Thank you for the dinner, though.”

“My pleasure,” she smiled.

He knew where he was going. Yet before he made a single step, the memorial board caught his sight again. He was aware of not always being the most pleasurable human being to others around, though he always justified that by saying that he was only trying to protect himself. But when he visited today, for the first time, and saw the board—there was regret. For, maybe, being too harsh at times.

Everyone was carrying around their own kind of pain. Some were just too good at hiding it.

So before he left, he turned to Maria.

“Listen,” he cleared his throat, trying to find the right words. “About…”

She knew where he was headed. And wanted to spare him the difficulties.

“I know,” she whispered. “Me too…”

Nothing else needed to be said, they both understood.

With that, Joel grabbed the rest of his stuff and set off.

As he walked through the streets, seeing the lights hanging on the houses and snowflakes falling to the ground, his mind wondered. Towards you, towards this morning. Part of him felt guilty for pushing you away so suddenly. You must have meant it as a joke, he thought. That’s what he’s been trying to tell himself the whole day.

Yet there was a part of him. Part of him that was terrified of you, being serious with that title. Joel came to terms with the way he felt about you, with the amount of care and sense of protection he had for you. But why was the idea of you feeling the same way about him so frightening? Why was it so easy to accept you as daughter but hesitate to become your father? He was in this same position twenty one years ago. And he couldn’t promise to not fail again.

There was guilt. Guilt he was carrying around for more than twenty years. Guilt of failing, for not being the father Sarah deserved to have in that moment. And it felt selfish of him to put another child through that. Maria was right. It was scary to have another chance with something so fragile. Perhaps, he should’ve just walked away, could’ve given up.

But somehow found himself standing in front of your door. With pair of green gloves in his hands and shame in his eyes.

He knocked on the door two times to make sure you were still awake. Only when he heard your voice, he let himself in.

You were standing by your closet, carefully folding your things.

Somehow, in this moment, seeing you so accustomed this place, it made Joel happy.

Then he saw the curiousness in your eyes and panicked. For a second, he panicked, overthinking his actions.

“Maria,” he mumbled, looking for the right words, “Maria… Maria said you left this at their place,” he finished his attempted and stepped closer into the room.

Your eyes landed on the pair of gloves in Joel’s hands.

“Oh…” you raised your eyebrows. “But these… these are not mine. I gave them back to Maria weeks ago because they were too small for me…”

You stopped for a moment and realised she achieved exactly what she wanted with that gesture. And you couldn’t help but chuckle over that.

Joel, on the other hand, couldn’t ignore the embarrassment rising within him.

Quickly, you saw that. Saw him clearing his throat and placing the gloves on the edge of your bed.

He stood there, for a second or two and you wondered if, perhaps, there was more to his visit. You looked into his eyes and saw the struggle—saw how desperately he was trying to find the appropriate approach to this situation and took this as an opportunity to set things right.

“Listen,” you whispered, catching his attention. “I just…”

You both struggled with finding the right words.

Placing the clothes you were holding just a second ago onto the closet shelf, you stepped closer to him.

“I’m sorry for what I've said this morning. I didn’t mean to upset you. I didn’t know that—“

The shame he had in his eyes was now glancing in yours. And he saw that, saw every bit of that.

That’s why he stopped you.

“No,” he shook his head. “Y/N, please no.”

He followed your lead and stepped closer, sitting down on the edge of your bed as the frustrated sigh left his mouth.

“It’s not your fault. How could you know…”

It was the first time you saw Joel like this. It was the first you spoke of this.

There was hurt in his voice and you knew he must have been trying to suppress that for quite some time.

You quietly joined him, eyes landing on the floor.

“Maria told you?” he asked, filling up the hollow silence.

“I saw the memorial Tommy made… you probably figure the rest,” you whispered.

Joel nodded.

“Don’t be mad at her, please. I swear, if I knew… I wouldn’t—“

He finally looked into your eyes, stopping your words. “Y/N, it’s alright. I am not mad at her.”

There was a sense of relief that flew through your body.

Although, there was also one question remaining.

“What about me?” you dared to ask.

He heard the tone of your voice and saw the worry in your eyes.

There it was, the confrontation he couldn’t keep running away from. For a moment, the hollow silence returned just as your fears. In the same exact moment that Joel finally decided to face his.

“If you think about me this way, if you feel about me this way… then I don’t… I don’t mind if you want to call me that.”

That certainly was not what you were expecting.

But it turned out to be better.

“I’m trying to say that even though I can’t promise you that I’m worthy of that title… if you want me to have that role in your life…” he whispered.

“I thought you already had that,” you admitted.

The shock in his eyes was evident.

“Listen,” you whispered, turning to him. “I was on my own for most of the time before Tess finally found me and brought me to you. I’ve never had anyone like that. So I don’t have much to compare with. But if dad is supposed to be someone who makes you feel safe, who feels like home, then for me, Joel, you are worthy of that title.”

There it was. It was no longer just an assumption but a long lasting wish. He got the truth, got what he wished for and feared at the same time.

“Depends on if you want it.”

In that moment, he wanted to allow himself to want it. But in order to do that. There was one last step remaining.

Joel needed to forgive himself.

He needed to finally put down that baggage of guilt he’s been wearing around for twenty one years. He needed once and for all, stop looking behind him. And look ahead and take the opportunity the universe gave him.

Perhaps, you were what he needed to achieve that. By making sure you were safe, he would able to forgive himself for failing at that twenty one years ago. Deep down, he knew, she would never want him to wear his sadness around his neck. There would always be a part of her in Joel, nothing was going to change that. But maybe now, he was finally able to make space for you, too. To be your dad.

You heard the chuckles and looked up again. And there he was, looking down at his something to fight for. His whole world.

He smiled quietly and replied, “I do, kiddo.”

And when the word left your mouth, calling him that officially for the very first time, he barely managed to hold it together. Every remaining piece of his baggage disappeared, every last piece of the sadness he was wearing around his neck fell down as he finally put his guilt to rest.

And he kept the promise he gave. To both of his daughters.

[diejager]

Ooo I just love how you write platonic yanderess

Can you write a platonic yandere Ghost with his little sister😗

Of course. Of course.

Pairing : Big brother Simon "Ghost" Riley & little sister reader

Cw: canon violence, death, Ghost background, death, murder, dark, platonic yandere, protective Ghost, murder, mental breakdown, depression, trauma.

Wc: 1.3k

The last thing he wanted people to know - even his team - was about his civilian life, the secrets he held under lock and key near his heart, and a hard appearance. He protected what little was left of his old life fiercely, he wasn't Simon Riley anymore, he was "Ghost" now and that's all people knew. All the pain and torture he went through, from digging himself out of his grave to finding his family murdered, dead in the home they thought safe.

He remembered going home, exhausted and ecstatic to see his family, he celebrated Christmas with his family, drinking and eating at Tommy's house, you sitting next to him - your older brother. He was lucky that everyone was free that night, you both had unpredictable schedules, him being a red beret and you a field medic. Although he never had the chance to work with you, you were always skilled with your hands, bandaging and nursing his wounds.

You fixed him up when your dad got too drunk, Simon used to wrap himself around your body and receive every hit and berate of degrading insults your dad liked to spew. Simon protected you and you played his nurse until it became too real, you left for military service a few years after him, wishing to help the one who protected you so often.

He left to drink with friends on the eve, military buddies, you promise to come back once you got something from your flat near the edge of Downtown Manchester (it was a bit far, but always noisy, it helped quell the nightmares that silence brought).

He rushed home when he finished with whatever Sparks had done, ending him and his accomplice. They knew where he was before, it put his family at risk, then the call he got only solidified his fears when he stepped into Tommy's house, door open and lights off.

He found you sobbing, kneeling over Tommy and Joseph's bodies, cradling them. The dread and devastation he felt were overpowering, his life in the military had cost him his happy family. He was served revenge on a silver platter, a few scrapes here and there, but you two had disappeared in the dead of Christmas.

Everything from public relationships to your face was a risk, and somehow, he managed to keep you by his side wherever he served. You were the medic and him the lieutenant; (Name) and Simon Riley were dead, simply Doc and Ghost. That's how the world knew you and how Task Force 141 called you. Doc and Ghost, stuck by the hips, wearing similar masks and worked spectacularly together.

You were the last of his family, of the life he had before the murder - his dreamy heaven - so he kept you close, he protected you like he did when you were younger. If they got too close, he'd dispose of them immediately. Your safety was his top priority, whatever he did was for you, and the purpose he built himself was to ensure that you'd live.

He wanted you to stay, the agonizing pain of feeling lost and alone was harrowing, and he couldn't risk the chance of losing you too. They haunted him in his sleep, the memory of their deaths and his regrets, it all loomed over him like a reminder of his mistakes - his failures. The 'what if's lingered in his mind, the 'should have' and 'could have' becoming a mainstream of his thoughts when he looked at himself in the mirror; what if he never joined the army; what if he was there that night; he should have been there with them, instead of drinking at a bar; he could have saved you the grief and pain he felt, the one you shared like an open wound.

It should have been him.

He told himself that so many times, to you and himself, always mumbling about it at night, pointing the finger at himself for the loss. You stayed by his side, smaller arms wrapped around him like a blanket of comfort, warm and reassuring with words that pushed back his demons. He loved you so much, for being here and for always sticking to him.

You don't blame him for it, he doesn't understand how you don't, he saw it as his fault for bringing the enemy home.

"'S not your fault, Si," you whispered to him, his mental state too fragile for loud noises. His ears were ringing, almost so loudly that he thought his mind would implode on itself. You knew he felt everything much stronger, being the eldest of the trio he felt more responsible. "You're not to blame, Si. None of it, ya understand?"

He liked how your hands held his, gripping him tightly to bring him back to earth, far away from his violent mind. You supported him when he crashed and he held you when you broke, their deaths never left you, it simply brought you closer together than you'd think possible.

You closed yourself from others and built a wall of brick and cement, yet you smiled and socialized freely, you spoke enough for you both - or so Ghost insisted. He grew colder, callous, and brash with others, reserving his sweeter and softer side for you.

He stood near you, practically looming over you with his height of 6'4, broad shoulders, dark fatigues; a giant wall of muscle, you'd tease him, though you knew he was only protecting you. He's grown wary of everything that tried to approach you, he would stand before any approaching figure and glare them down.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, you were told from the file Price sent you, walked to meet you, smiling broadly and eyes squinting from the bright sun that bared down on the base. Besides him was Gaz, Kyle Garrick, olive-skinned and leaner than both males - blockheaded blokes, you called Simon and Soap.

His newly formed habit stood out the moment Ghost moved to block you from their sights, standing high and sneering when they stood feet away from you. You saw them flinch, hesitation seen through their eyes before they closed in, greeting Ghost who stared at their hand.

"Doc, pleasure meeting you, Soap, Gaz," you moved around Ghost, tapping his forearm reassuringly, his tense form slumping slightly. "He's Ghost, sorry 'bout him, he's not much of a people's person." Ghost huffed as you shook their hands, peering between them to the other duo approaching: Captain John Price and Gary "Roach" Sanderson.

Ghost acted once more, moving to guard you even though he knew Price prior to the formation of Task Force 141, you both knew him. You shook his hand, bowing your head lightly out of respect for the experience and battle-hardened man.

Other than guarding you, he hoarded your attention like a dragon hoarding his gold, keeping you by his side wherever he went as much as he stuck to yours. Per your conditions, you and Ghost would always be assigned together, and Price sympathetically complied. You bunked together and ate on the same table, he warded away unsavory glances and you lashed out at those that glowered at Ghost.

Although you'd burn the world for Ghost, he took it a step further, he took it upon himself to take care of whatever plagued you. Be it harassment from a fellow soldier, he'd disappear the next day; be it an unintentional threat to your safety, properly disposed of; be it someone who's trying to get close to you, too close to you, would find themselves jumping into an oncoming train.

He did as he should to keep you from harm, any kind that would mean losing you. A desperate man takes desperate measures, and Simon "Ghost" Riley is the most desperate elder brother in the world.

[forever-rogue]

hey :) i recently discovered your blog and read your joel fics. let me just say that i love how you portray him, it feels so genuine. i haven’t seen any request guideline or anything but i thought i could still send one. feel free to turn it down or change it tho.

what about joel being in a relationship with a much younger reader and he’s a bit insecure. he knows he’s old, he has scars all over his body and rough hands, etc…and she’s pretty much the opposite. it results in him just avoiding her a bit (if he has to change a shirt, he’ll make sure she is nowhere near for example) but one time he gets hurt and she refuses to let him “handle it”. quickly, she realizes how he can’t look at her, how ashamed he seems to be when he has to undress for her to look at the wound. he ends up admitting how he feels (in a very joel way but still) and she just shakes her head and shows him how much she loves him (nothing sexual though but maybe she kisses his scars and tells him she adores all those little “flaws” he sees)

hope this is okay, thanks :)

AN | This turned out pretty soft, but I hope like it 🥺

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language, Injury [non-graphic, but mentions blood]

Word Count | 3.2k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You liked Joel. You really liked him. Even despite the differences between the two of you, which seemed so vast at times, and despite what people had said about your relationship in the beginning. 

But there was always this sort of divide. You couldn't quite pinpoint it but it was always there. And you wished you could break it down, bit by bit just like you had done with so many other things. He didn't seem to want to let you in, no matter how much time you spent with him. In the end, you decided not to push it; if it happened it would happen. Otherwise you would just love him as best as you could, show him just how much he meant to you with everything you had.

You loved him, just as he was, and that was all that mattered.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was a late night that found you in your bed in Jackson all by yourself. It was winter, and it was cold; normally you could rely on Joel to be your personal heater but he was gone. You weren’t quite desperate enough to get up and turn on the heating, so instead you bundled up in a horde of blankets. You hoped that Ellie was warm enough but you knew that she would speak up if she was cold. 

You grabbed the pillow that Joel normally used, the one that always smelled like him, and hugged it to your chest. It almost made it seem like he was here…almost. 

But before you could manage to fall asleep and dream of him, the real Joel stumbled his way into the bedroom. You sat up with a start, immediately turning on the like on the bedside table, rubbing the bleariness from your eyes, “Joel?”

He grunted in response, still half hidden by the darkness of the night. But you knew him well enough to know that something was off. You slid out of the bed and walked over to him, mind already reeling with the hundreds of possibilities of what could have been wrong. When you were finally able to take a look at him, your heart dropped into your stomach.

“Joel,” he looked at you, but you could tell he wasn’t quite there. The entire right side of his shirt was bloodied and you immediately knew that it was his blood; that idea made your stomach churn, “what happened?!”

“I’m fine,” he lied, waving his hand to try and brush you off. But you were having absolutely none of it, “just need a minute."

"You're not fine," you shook your head and reached for the hand on his uninjured side but he immediately flinched out of your reach, "Joel. Don't lie to me and say you're fine! You're hurt!"

"I can handle it," his answer came out in a hiss as he sat down at the edge of the bed, "I don't need you."

You recoiled for a moment, taken aback by his words and tone. But you quickly got over it when you realized it wasn't really him. He was injured and hurting…you really couldn't blame him.

"I don't want you to just handle it," you crouched in front of him, attempting in vain to try and get him to look at you. He refused; his dark gaze fell anywhere but on you, "you don't always have to do things alone, Joel. I'm here for you, I l-"

"Don't," he stiffened as you sighed softly. He hadn't let you say those words to him yet. He'd never said them to you either. It wasn't really a big deal to you; he showed you his love in so many other ways, through everything he did. But right now, you thought he might just need to hear it, "get out."

"What?" Your eyes widened in hurt and you felt tears start to well up and prickle at the back of your eyes. He'd never once been so harsh before.

"Please," he sighed as you stood up and studied him, "just get out for right now."

"Listen," your hands were on your hips in a position that mirrored the one he often pulled, "I know this is hard for you, letting someone else in. And I respect and am trying to understand your boundaries but you don't always have to push me away when things happen. I'm not going anywhere, I hope you would know that by now. You're my partner in every meaning of the word and I would never leave you. I want to be there for you, but I don't if you don't want me to be. So, I'll listen to you and I'll leave. But if you decide you need me, you know where I'll be."

He half expected you to go out and slam the door, but you didn't. Instead you walked slowly, shutting the door with as much grace as ever as he listened to you walk downstairs to the spare bedroom. Bereft of any logical thought, a heavy sigh escaped him. It would have been easier if you'd been mad and yelled, but instead you were kind as normal. He hated that - hated himself in that moment because it made him realize just how deeply he hurt you.

He got up and locked the door before hesitantly peeling off his shirt to try and tend to his wounds. He was almost glad they hurt…it was the least he deserved.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

As soon as you stepped foot into the spare room, you let the tears you'd been holding in roll down your cheeks, trying to keep your cries quiet. You didn't want Ellie to hear and you certainly didn't need Joel to hear you either. 

You crawled into bed but found no comfort in it, finding it too hard, too cold, too empty. You were half tempted to go back to Joel and make him accept your help, but that wouldn't do anything helpful.

Instead you grabbed the extra pillow and hugged it to your chest, saddened when you realized it didn't smell like him. After you'd cried yourself out, you fell into a dreamless sleep. It was decidedly better than the alternative.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

 You weren't sure how long you'd been sleeping before you heard the door creak open. Being a light sleeper was both a blessing and a curse. You thought that maybe it was Ellie needing something so you didn't think anything of it.

"Hey Ellie Bean, what's up?" you peeked an eye open as you blindly reached for the light switch. But when you turned it on and revealed your new guest, you made a soul sound of surprise, "Joel?"

"I'm sorry," he choked out, still standing in the doorway, unsure if he should stay or go, "I'm so sorry."

"Oh, my love," you threw the blankets back and slid out of bed, to walk to him. When you stood in front of him, his expression grew nervous, his eyes wide and worried. You reached up and touched his face, brushing your thumb over his cheek, "c'mere."

You took his hand and pulled him towards the bathroom, no hesitation whatsoever. Joel inhaled deeply but followed you; he would always follow you.

You flicked on the bright, blinding light and motioned for him to sit on the toilet. He silently did as you wished and waited to see what you'd do next. God, he really just wished you'd be mad at him. He deserved it - at least in his mind.

You kneeled in front of him and studied him. His eyes were glossy, his face pale save for the dark circles under his eyes. His shirt was stained with dried and fresh blood, knuckles on his right hand busted. You swallowed thickly, but tried to keep it together. 

From under the sink, you grabbed the antiseptic and bandages and other supplies, setting them in front of you wordlessly. No words needed to be exchanged and he didn't flinch away when you reached for his hand. He momentarily marveled at how much smaller your hands looked in his. 

Joel watched as you cleaned his wounds, gentle and tender in your actions. You were his saving grace without a doubt.

"There we are," you finished bandaging his hand before setting back on his thigh. Your eyes flicked to his side and you realized you weren't sure what to do. In the end, your worry for him outweighed anything else. You touched the hem of his shirt and met his eyes, "may I?"

He looked away for a moment, hesitating and torn. But ultimately he knew what he should - and really wanted to - do, "yes. I trust you."

"Okay," you choked up for a moment but that was a worry for later, "okay."

You took the hem of his shirt in your hands and slowly pulled it up, almost jumping when his fingers brushed against yours as he took over and tugged off his shirt, throwing into the tub so the blood wouldn't stain anything.

He was half waiting for you to say something or just to walk out, but you didn't. Of course you didn't. Deep down he knew that.

While he was having his existential crisis, you were assessing the damage. Luckily it didn't seem to be too bad, more superficial than anything but you still hated seeing him hurt. You tutted softly as you grabbed a clean rag and started to wipe away all the blood. Even despite your gentle touch, you could tell it was hurting him.

"Almost done," you promised, taking your time to get everything all cleaned up and covered, humming softly under your breath. It was a habit he'd noticed a while ago and for some reason it always made him feel safe. When you were finished, you looked over the rest of his torso. Joel could feel you looking at him, "all better. Well, you're patched up but it'll take a bit to heal. I'll keep an eye on it, okay?"

You stood up and stretched, your back stiff from kneeling on the tile floor. You still weren't sure where you stood with him so you decided to go back to the guest room. 

"Good night, Joel," you didn't give him a chance to say anything else before walking out of the room. Whatever happened next would be up to him.

Fortunately you didn't have to wait long for an answer. 

Once you got settled back into bed, it was only a few minutes until you heard him come back. You hadn't closed the door all the way so he could easily push it open. You didn't roll over to face him, instead you let him come to you, let him gingerly slide into the bed behind you. 

He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into his chest, curling around your body. You relaxed - your heart felt relaxed - as you allowed yourself to melt into him, putting your hand on top of his.

Neither of you spoke, but you felt him press a kiss to your shoulder.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When you woke up again, hours later with the sunlight softly streaming in through the window, you found yourself tangled up with Joel. It felt good to have him next to you.

He had some more color to his face and you couldn't help but brush some of the rogue locks out of his face. You ghosted your fingers along his jaw before trailing them down his arm. You wanted him to rest so you got out quietly and padded to the kitchen to make some breakfast.

It wasn't long before you heard his familiar footsteps on the wooden floor. You turned to him and found that he was still shirtless. You hadn't seen him shirtless before you realized. Not like this.

"Good morning," you whispered softly, "you look better."

"Can we talk?" Oh. He wanted to head right into that. 

"Y-yeah. Yes," you agreed, already nervous, heart beating rapidly, "of course."

He sat down and motioned for you to join him, which you did without hesitation.

"I'm sorry," he echoed his words from last night after a few beats of silence, "for what I said. How I said it."

"I didn't take it personally," you promised, "I know you were hurt. Hurting."

"It doesn't excuse it," he leaned back in his chair, scrubbing a tired hand over his face, "I often wonder why you're here. With me."

His words crashed around your ears and hit like a ton of bricks. The panic on your face was evident.

"I don't - I don't doubt you," he quickly shut off any of your negative thoughts, "me. Why me?"

"I don't…I don't understand, Joel."

"You're so young, so good, so fuckin' beautiful. Everything I'm not," you looked at him in surprise, wondering if this had been on his mind for some time, "you could have anyone you want. Why are you here? With me? An old man with too much shit and baggage that can't even communicate properly? Surely there's someone better for you here."

"Joel," you couldn't help the small laugh that escaped your lips, "you're so blind sometimes, you know? I don't want anyone or anything but you. It's you. Joel Miller, I know it's hard for you to accept certain things, but you have to know that I love you. That it's….always been you. Since we met."

"I haven't even been able to be shirtless around you," he sighed heavily, forcing himself to meet your eyes, "we can't even have sex unless it's dark. I - fuck…I know you've noticed, you're not dumb."

"I have, and you're right, I'm not dumb."

"You haven't said anything."

"Why should I have?" You asked in return, "its not…I love you, and that means accepting all of you, even the bits and pieces you hate yourself. I love all the things you hate about yourself," you were waving your arms around as you normally did when you got excited and that brought the smallest of smiles to his face, "I don't care about stuff like that…I knew that we'd cross that bridge when you were ready to. It's not my place to push or pull you. I'm willing to wait for you, and I'm always going to be here for you. All I want…all I want is for you to know that I love you and that you don't have to do anything on your own. You have me, always. I want to be your home and your safe space, just as you are mine."

"How could you…" he gestured to his body, speaking through gritted teeth and thinking of every mark and scar that littered his body, "how could love this? Is this really what you want to deal with?"

"First of all, I'm not 'dealing' with you," you reached across the table and put your hand on top of his, "you don't just deal with the people you love."

"But-"

"But nothing," you insisted, "you're perfect just the way you are. And excuse me for a moment for objectifying you but you're hot, Joel. You're fine as hell, and I can't believe you don't see that. On top of that you're a good man, even if you don't want to believe it. What else could I want?" 

"Baby," he took your hand and held onto it, squeezing tenderly, "I'm giving you an out if you want it."

"Well I don't fucking want it," you squeezed back, "I'm not leaving. Not unless you can look me in the eye and tell me you don't want me. That you want me to leave."

His eyes met yours, "never."

"Good," you offered him a small smile, "that settles that. Joel, you're so important to me and I will always be here for you physically or mentally or however. I've got scars and marks and imperfections too. I've got baggage. The thing is when you love someone that doesn't matter."

"I know," he closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, "I'm s-"

"Don't," you cut him off softly, "don't say you're sorry. There's nothing to be sorry for. Just…it's okay for us to take things slow, as they come. And just know that we're here for each other."

"Okay," you saw his adam's apple bob as he choked up.

"Okay," you stood up and walked over to him, and effortlessly, as always, his hands found your hips and he pulled you onto his lap. You gently cradled his hands in your face, beaming at him, silently telling him that everything was going to be alright, "I love you, Joel."

"I…I love…" he paused, not unsure of his devotion but overwhelmed by everything, "I can't believe I've never even said it to you before."

"I don't care. You don't have to tell me anything you don't mean or don't want to," his hands were delicate on your skin as he studied you, "I know it's true regardless. I don't need to hear those specific words."

"I want to say them," he insisted softly, his hand finding your face, a juxtaposition of rough against soft, "I love you. Even if I don't always say it or act like it."

"I know, but you do. Act like it I mean," you preened into his touch and put your own hand on his chest, palm right above his heart, "you're not alone, you know. You have me, Ellie, Tommy, Maria, and so many others. It's hard to be so vulnerable, trust me I really do understand in my own way, but it's also okay. Even if it takes time, forever, or whatever. I am always going to be here."

"What did I do to deserve you?" At his silly question, you laughed, marveling still at how clueless he sometimes was.

"There's no rhyme or reason for loving who we do sometimes," you leaned and pressed your forehead to his, "but you know, the fact that you saved my life the day we met doesn't hurt."

And then he laughed, shoulders relaxing and a genuine smile growing on his face, "well, I think you've gotten me back a few times for that. Why are you still here, huh pretty girl?"

"Shut up," there was nothing but affection behind your words, "somewhere along the line I managed to fall in love with you. So. Here we are."

"Here we are," he repeated before kissing you softly and you practically melting into him, "baby."

"Hey, if you're going to do that can you at least do it in your bedroom?" neither of you had heard Ellie come downstairs but you exchanged a lot before laughing. Yeah, things were pretty good, "otherwise can we make some breakfast already? I'm starving!"

Before you could climb out of his lap, Joel held you back and kissed you softly, giving you a gentle look. You touched his cheek, silently nodding in response.

Not everything needed to be said out loud. You always heard him loud and clear. 

[goblinontour]

Innocence And Arrogance Entwined

little doll gets in trouble

warnings: soft!dom!alex, smut, oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), drool, daddy kink (like twice), age gap (not specified, just reader is younger)

word count: 4.1k

his hair was taking up your sight, the strands blocking your view, of nothing in particular, as he didn’t have a tv in his bedroom, instead just a record player, a distant sound humming from it in the background, your full attention being on him, feeling his pulse up against your ear from how you clung to him.

you were supposed to be going out but when you got out of the shower to meet your fully dressed boyfriend, all ready to go, you just wanted to lie with him for a few minutes, feeling all warm and fuzzy, so he accepted, he can’t often deny you, though you wish he would, he puts up with a lot from you.

“just 5 more minutes or else we’re gonna be late.” he warned.

“fine.” you whispered into his neck softly, placing a kiss on his skin as if to put an end to the sentence. the smell of his cologne was filling your nostrils, strong from him applying it only a few minutes prior, mixing with his own natural scent, creating the perfect mixture you could never get enough of.

although those minutes went by fast, way too fast, they felt like seconds to you…but you still had to actually get ready. he secretly made sure to tell you to be ready half an hour earlier than you had to, knowing you’d be late.

you reluctantly got up when he told you the time was up, huffing and sighing as you reached the bathroom sink and grabbed your stuff so you could make yourself look pretty. he always says you’re pretty but you love doing it just for yourself.

as you were adding the finishing touches you noticed him in the reflexion, watching you as he sat on the edge of the bed with his legs crossed, the large trousers falling over his legs, his boney knees accentuated by the thin fabric, his face resting in his hands, elbows propped up on his thigh. he looked so beautiful, completely enchanted just by seeing how you were doing your silly routine. in all honesty he was fascinated by it. he knew it was only regular stuff and nothing of that much importance but he was never with someone like you before. you were younger and everything seemed much more exciting with you, even just watching you place tiny pink bow clips in your hair. he knew you noticed him but he didn’t care, you were his and he wasn’t going to stop himself from admiring you for as long as he wanted.

you approached him with a big smile on your face, blushing from the look of love he wouldn’t stop giving you, making his own smirk bigger.

“you like them?” you ask, pointing to the clips as you turn around to give him a better view.

“i love them.” he says, grabbing you hips and dragging you closer to him, pulling you into his arms and nuzzling his face into the side of your waist, his skin rubbing against the fuzzy robe which was covering you. “you look beautiful.” he whispers as he locks his eyes with yours in that same mirror, still visible from how he positioned himself right at the door to watch you. he sneakily slipped one of his hands through the opening of the garment, his cold fingers coming into contact with your warm skin, making you shiver and turn around, ripping yourself from his grip.

“hey, you were the one saying we’d be late earlier, don’t start now.” you protested.

“right, right. go on then, get dressed so we can go.” he told you, giving you a little tap on your thigh.

“wait.” you went back to grab another bow from your bag, returning to him but as your hands were getting closer to his hair he grabbed your wrist stopping you in your tracks.

“what are you-” he was about to say something but you stopped him before he could finish the sentence by quickly attaching the clip to the back of his hair.

“there!” you beam at him “now you’re ready!”

“i’m not going out like this.” he said in a serious tone, although you knew it wasn’t that big of a deal, both of you just playing.

“oh come on alex, you look cute!” he gave you nothing but that resting face, the tiny wrinkle in between his eyebrows accentuated by his slight frown. “just keep it on until we leave.” you pleaded, giving him the puppy eyes he couldn’t say no to.

“fine, fine!” he accepted his fate, raising his arms in defeat. “come on now, seriously, get dressed miss, or we’ll actually be late if you keep dragging this on.” he said, slapping your ass playfully as you turned towards the door where you had your dress hung up.

you were supposed to go to an event he was invited to, that was what all of this getting ready was for, because he of course invited you to go with him, so he could at least enjoy your company while he was there. he wasn’t big into that sort of stuff, but it ended up being lovely, although some time after you arrived you noticed the pink bow was still in his hair, he forgot to take it off before you left. you didn’t tell him though. and thankfully no one else mentioned it to him even though you did catch some people looking at him a bit strange or looking at him twice once they noticed it. you thought he looked adorable, but you knew he wouldn’t be too keen on the idea of you knowing and not letting him know, so you just pretended you saw nothing.

and it worked just fine, you had him giggling completely oblivious by the time you were walking through the front door back at his house. until he caught a glimpse of himself in the big mirror in the entryway.

“what the…” he huffed, feeling the back of his head with his hands, fiddling until he found the clip and removed it, bringing it back in front of him and sighing as he realised he just had that on the whole time you were out.

“care to explain?” he asked, turning to you. you were hunched over struggling with the straps of your shoes and to be fair you kind of forgot about the whole bow thing but once you raised your head and got a good look at him, holding the clip in between his fingers, his arm stretched out so he could make sure you knew exactly what he meant.

“where did you get that?” you asked, seemingly innocent, but the tone of your voice easily gave you away to him.

“you know where, why didn’t you tell me?”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you told him, keeping the act on as you were about to walk past him.

“no, no.” he tutted, grabbing your arm and turning you around, taking you by surprise as he picked you up and started walking around the house with you slung over his shoulder, making you squeal.

“aly, put me down.” you giggled, although you were very much enjoying it.

“oh dolly, you’re in trouble.” he said in a tone you haven’t yet heard from him. it was still playful, but laced with a certain amount of dominance you weren’t used to, but you longed for. you wanted him to be more rough, yet you didn’t know how to express it, you could feel he was holding back at times too, but he never tried to push your boundaries, you were like a little doll he didn’t want to hurt but needed to.

he threw you back on the bed, still careful so you wouldn’t get hurt on anything as you fell into the mattress, your hair all over your face from how you were just upside down. when you finally managed to get most of it out of your face you saw him standing right at the edge, glaring at you with a look that intimidated you like never before.

“now, what do i do with you…” he pondered out loud, his hands resting on his hips as he looked down deep in thought for a short while, until something almost clicked in his brain as he quickly started taking off his suit jacket, followed by the mismatched vest he paired it with, leaving him in only his shirt, sweat marks visible in places where it slightly stuck to his body. it was hot, but he insisted on wearing all the layers.

“are you going to punish me?” you asked, making your voice sound small and innocent, crawling backwards on the bed, causing your dress to ride up and spreading your legs just enough for a split second so he could see your underwear, to tease him further.

“i’m not, no. you’re gonna suck me.” he told you sternly, approaching you on the bed, slowly climbing on top of you and pinning you down underneath him.

“but-”

“but what? you should be grateful for it, really.”

“fine, old man.” you scoffed under your breath, but he absolutely caught that.

“old man now, eh? better hear no complaints when i’m throat fucking my name out of that mouth.” you swore you could feel yourself throb as he whispered that, his words muffled by how he was now kissing your naked shoulder, pulling down the material covering it so he had all the access he wished for. “take it off, will you?” referring to the dress as he grabbed the elastic strap and let it come down on your skin, stinging you slightly as it fell back into place.

he let you get up so you could do as he said, watching you strip from his new position he found, his back against the headboard, waiting for you to be naked already.

“aren’t you gonna take yours off too?” you asked, your dress falling onto the floor and you stepped out of it to approach him on the bed once more.

“no, i’m good. come here now.” he waved you over, demanding you to come closer to him.

once you were close enough he roughly grabbed you by the ass, making you gasp at his forwardness, his short nails digging into your skin as he was kneading it into his hands, pulling you down onto his lap where you felt him digging into you again, though this time it was his cock, bulging through his trousers and you felt it get harder and harder as he slowly moved your hips along it, attacking your upper chest in kisses in the meantime, his head buried in between your breasts, his rough beard tickling you as it grazed over the sensitive skin. you couldn’t stop your moan as he bit on your nipple poking through the thin lace bra you still had on.

“shhh…’s not about you, quiet baby.”

“sorry.”

“you should be. make me forgive you darling.”

that was his invitation for you to get started, leaning back again so you could get on with it, unbuttoning his shirt even more as you unzipped his pants and pulled them down a bit, as much as you could anyway, since he insisted on keeping them on. he helped you by adjusting his position so he could pull them down over his ass, along with his underwear, his dick now freed, touching his stomach and waiting for you.

he grabbed it in his fist and stroked himself a few times while you were lowering yourself on the bed, finding your place in between his widespread legs.

fuck he looked so hot. the way his shirt stuck to the middle of his stomach, still exposing his soft lower tummy from how he pulled it up so it wouldn’t be in the way, his hair falling over his face, how he looked at you, his eyes dark and needy.

“here.” he said as he pointed his cock towards you so you would grab it instead.

and you did, your fingers wrapped around it and you spit on the head, a thin line of it connecting your lips to his his length, only breaking once you moved your hand and exposed his tip further, pulling down on his foreskin, licking the newly exposed skin, wrapping your tongue around it, delving it in between the looser skin and his throbbing reddish head.

“don’t tease…” he warned, wrapping one of his legs around you to push lower you onto him and lock you in at the same time, not that you would’ve stopped either way. “open up now.”

you guided him into your mouth, your lips wrapping around him tightly, suckling on the tip.

“take more baby, that’s nothing.” he pushed you further down, his heel digging into your back as he made you take more of his cock in your mouth, and you kept your eyes on him as he did on you. “that’s my girl, fuck…just like that.” he sweetly sighed, brushing your cheek with his fingers softly, getting lost in the pleasure as your throat slowly loosened to accommodate him, letting him sink comfortably deeper into your hole.

your mouth and hand moved in sync, so every part of him had your touch, nothing left unattended, nothing, your free hand now toying with his balls, which made his hips buck up, thrusting himself deeper down your warm sore hole, brushing the back of throat and making you choke around him. you barely managed to pull away to take a breath, refill your lungs with much needed air, from how he had you caged in, his calf still resting on your shoulder, the fluffy hairs on his leg, exposed from how his pants had ridden up, rubbing against your own skin.

you gasped for air as you got off from his cock, leaving him covered in drool you used to your advantage, stroking him with it, getting it to pool around his tip, watching as it mixed with his precum leaking from his slit, the clear liquid bleeding into your bubbly traces on him.

“fuckkk.” he panted “be a good girl for daddy and take it all, yeah?”

you nod your head and whine when you try to move back down onto him, the little shift making the ache in between your thighs all the more noticeable from how your lace panties rubbed against your clit for a split second.

“you can touch yourself for me doll, use your little fingers.” he suggested as he caught onto the quiet sound you made.

he loosened up his grip just enough so you could sneak your hand down to your pussy, slipping your underwear to the side so you could start touching yourself, as he said. although it didn’t feel nowhere near as good as when he would do it, it was better than nothing. your fingers easily slipped in between your folds, feeling your wetness pooling, almost threatening to drip from how turned on he had you.

“does it feel good baby?” you nodded as you kissed your way up his length. “better than my cock in your mouth? hmm?” you knew what answer he expected, but a little teasing from your part wouldn’t hurt, so you nodded ‘yes’ again, and even mumbled a ‘mhm’, sending vibrations through his cock, his mouth opening to let a soft grunt escape. “really, dolly? you need to be put in your place little brat, ‘ve had enough of you.”

he nudged your hand away and instead grabbed his cock himself, wrapping his own hand around the base to guide himself into your mouth, his other hand tangled in the mess of your hair, taking you over, holding onto the bows you still had in there, what started it all.

he pushed you down his cock roughly, his heels digging into your back again. by now both of his legs were wrapped around you, keeping you tightly in place, no chance of escape. it only served to turn you on even more as you were working your delicate fingers on your clit.

he forcefully thrusted into your mouth, he broke you in. you’ve sucked his dick before but he’s never fucked your mouth like this, never used you like he was doing now. and you loved it. it wasn’t about the feeling itself, though that was good too, you adored his cock, the smell of it, the curves of it against your tongue, his taste as the precum leaked straight onto the back of your throat, his moans and deep grunts, all because of you, helping you keep this up, to make him feel as good as possible. it was him finally letting go of the restraints he had around you. he was always so careful, like you’d break. but you liked him using you.

“that’s so good princess, fuck.” he moaned. “taking everything i give you like you own it.” he groaned, tilting his head back and thrusting his hips into you at a rapid pace, fucking your little hole like his life depended on it, getting faster and harder, as if trying to take his pent up anger out on you, his sharp boots delving into your flesh so hard you knew there would be marks left.

you could tell he was close, by the way his stomach caved in as his breaths got more inconsistent. you worked your hand harsher on your clit, wanting to get there just as much as he did.

“oh god if only you could see yourself right now.” he let out his thoughts subconsciously. “you getting close for me, hmm?” he asked, and even if you couldn’t speak seeing as his cock was taking up your mouth, he got his answer by your muffled whimpers. “good girl. look at you, so fucking beautiful.” he purred, his words only making you work harder to get him to his release.

and he was close, his legs enclosed around you firmer, making it hard for you to move from how his thighs were squeezing your face, your cheeks, your hole becoming tighter for him to fuck into, his thrusts fast yet short, as he was buried pretty deep into you with not much space to go further.

“fuck i’m gonna cum.” he moaned hoarsely. you raised your head slightly so you could take a look at him, his face scrunched up and you caught just the perfect moment as his jaw dropped slack and he went silent as he came down your throat, his hips slowing down until eventually stopping completely as his cum poured into your mouth, filling you up so much you almost gagged but struggled through it to swallow it all. almost all. some of it managed to escape down the sides of your lips wrapped around his cock as it mixed with the plentiful of your own saliva that was flooding your mouth.

he unclasped his legs from you and pulled you off him by your hair so you could finally take a breath, his softening cock flopping down on his tummy, making a mess of himself and the top of his pants but he really couldn't care less about that right now.

“come here.” he said, helping you climb on top of him by grabbing you from under your arms to sit you in his lap, your legs on either side of his hips.

you were about to wipe away the wet mess from your mouth and chin but before you got a chance to do so he pulled you into a sweet kiss, grabbing your chin delicately in between his fingers, the liquids from your face getting wiped down on his beard, smearing the scratchy hairs that adorned his own chin and upper lip.

“so good for me.” he whispered, followed by another peck that made you giggle from how his facial hair was slightly tickling you. “your lips were made for me to fuck.” he told you, looking straight into your eyes before pulling you in for another wet kiss, his tongue soon finding yours, evoking a little noise close to a moan from him as he tasted himself on you, deepening the kiss further, practically eating you as he relished in the sensation, making you flinch when you felt his fingers brush your wet cunt. you never even noticed he moved his arms.

“you want daddy to make you cum? couldn’t do it yourself?” he inquired, a slight tone of humiliation laced in his words towards you.

“yes.” you whispered, leaning your forehead on his as you started grinding your hips into his touch.

“what was that?” he pushed, although he clearly heard your answer, he wanted to hear you say it, and more explicitly say his name, just like he promised he'd have you saying it.

“yes daddy, please.” you cried out, wanting so bad to feel him touch you harder, but he was pulling his hand away from you every time you tried to get closer.

“see, you can do it.”

it wouldn’t take long for you to cum, his fingers always served you so good. only a couple minutes of him thrusting them into your dripping hole, making lewd sounds fill the room with each dip of his fingers into you, paired with his thumb toying with your clit just right and you were shaking, grabbing his shoulders as you came around his hand, your legs trembling on his sides so much he had to soothe you with his free hand until you came down.

“good, eh?” he joked, the answer being ‘yes’ pretty clearly but he had to take some pride in making you cum so fast with just one of his hands.

“mhmmm.” you hummed into his neck, slowly slumping back down his body, both of you relaxing into each other’s touch. you had your head on his tummy, the whole area now exposed and free for you to touch and feel. he had unbuttoned his shirt completely some time in between your orgasm and now.

he relaxed back on the bed too, sliding down so he could lay more comfortably, but what he didn’t expect was to feel you rubbing against his cock, still a bit sensitive from earlier and very much soft now, with no indication of a change soon. and that wasn’t your intention either.

you just wanted to feel him, somehow the damp coarse hairs rubbing against your cheek didn’t feel uncomfortable at all, on the contrary. might as well clean him up too while you’re there, you thought. he flinched and hissed when your tongue darted out to lick the remnants of his release and everything that were left at the base of his dick, right at the border of where the ginger tinted hairs surrounded it. a shade lighter than his beard you’d say. the soft flesh felt weirdly good under your tongue, but you didn’t get to keep on doing it for much longer.

“mhmm, ‘s enough.” he hummed, brushing your hair to the side to guide you off him.

you moved to the side a bit, resting your head on the very top of his thigh, for just a little while longer.

he needed a minute too, closing his eyes and just enjoying the moment of pure ecstasy, so much so that he didn’t feel you place a rogue clip you noticed on the bed on the longer hairs right above where his cock started, only noticing it when you eventually began to move from him to go to clean up, his eyes darting directly in that direction, the pink ribbon standing out to him instantly.

“i can’t believe you.” he laughed, rubbing his tired eyes to adjust to the lights again.

“isn’t she cute? just like me?” you joked to him as you got up and somewhat adjusted your lingerie from how out of place it got during all of that.

“who? my dick?”

“yeahhh!”

“my dick’s a she?” he puzzled you, secretly loving it, your playfulness breaking him out of his thoughts he found boring sometimes.

“mhm.”

“right, tell her you love her now, only seems fair.” he smirked at you.

“i do love her, and she’s cute. you’re cute too.”

“you’re cute.” he grinned at you, getting up as well and tucking himself back into his underwear so he could comfortably hug you from behind, getting pinched by the little bow he forgot about again, but not bothering to take it off now. he just wanted no risk of it, or rather of ‘her’ getting in the way as he held you tight.

a/n: bows and sucking cock <3

tags: @4chaos @picturezonthewall @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @ohladymoon @rentsturner @tbhcvio @mathdebate00 @averyzversi0n @ouroboros311 @menace-to-the-devil @jqsvi @turnersfav

[coupleoffanfics]

I might write about this one day. Maybe. Probably.

Random things about y/n with the batfam

Based on First Post

Bruce Wayne

Bruce never knew how to deal with y/n’s emotional outbursts even before they drifted apart. Out of everyone y/n was hands down the most emotional out of all the kids. Like what he is supposed to do when she’s crying about stray cats that don’t have a home. Or those times when she’d tear up over failing a test.

Just gives her a pat on the back and tries saying that it's not the end of the world. Not really helping as it invalidates her emotions. She makes a mental note to not go to Bruce after getting the same “reassuring words” from him every time.

Nearly spat out his coffee when she called him Pa for the first time. It was only after a couple of months of living there. Seeing the shocked reaction, she quickly tried to take it back until he reassured her with a small smile.

“You won’t be my dad, but you can be my pa. So when I have kids you can be called peepaw.”

Bruce isn’t sure when y/n stopped calling him Pa, but he remembers how he felt hearing her call him Sir or Bruce. How unnatural it sounded. It was too formal, but what hurt the most was how she said it without a second thought. Acting like it was the norm.

What happened to him being Pa?

What does he have to do to get his Pa status back?

Hopefully he doesn’t learn that y/n gave that title to someone else.

Dick Grayson

Kinda regrets not getting to know y/n before he and the whole family start going off into the deep end. It's not like they never interact or anything. Dick had trained her when she was working toward becoming Batgirl, but it was Bruce who mainly trained her.

Dick wasn’t nearly as close to her as Tim or even Jason. He didn’t have the time when juggling the Teen Titans, establishing himself as Nightwing, and being a Wayne. It was a stressful time of his life.

But he has much more free time now. Meaning he has much more time to make up for not being a big brother for y/n.

Slightly jealous that everyone except for him and Damian know or at least knew y/n. Some more than others.

So to gain an edge he read her diary. Only once he swears and it wasn’t like he went searching for it or anything. Didn’t know she had one. It was just sitting there in a box under her bed. Anyone could have found it really.

Reading the neat handwriting and discovering the personality of y/n was interesting. Kinda expected something along the lines of teen angst constering how aloof she comes off when around the family. Instead he found words of an insecure yet optimistic girl.

Dick uses his newly acquired intel to make it easier for y/n to talk to him. Brings up media that she likes to bond over the “same” interests they have. Uses her insecurities against her.

If she gets mad at him for trying to plant the idea that her best friend was a bad person, he’ll act like she’s overrating. Say that she was yelling even if she wasn’t. When asking if there was any validity to his bullshit, he’ll bring up one of her insecurity.

“You’ve always been slow when it comes to everything, but good thing your favorite brother is always there for you.”

“Yeah, good thing I’ll always have Tim.”

“Yeah, wait-”

Jason Todd

They were somewhat close before he died as they trained and sparred with each other. He wished he was able to see her put on her suit for the first time as he knows how hard she worked for it. Could practically hear her squealing when she looked in the mirror.

Unlike the others, Jason avoided y/n on purpose. He felt ashamed for beating and having snapped her arm when he was trying to kill everyone. She wasn’t even fighting back. If it wasn’t for Bruce and Tim, y/n would have ended up in a casket.

When hearing that she quit being Batgirl, he was kind of surprised. He remembers the younger y/n trying so hard to meet Bruce’s expectations. Despite failing more than he could count, she always got back to work. Always trying to improve. Never being satisfied with herself.

Wanted to know what made her quit, but decided against it. It wasn’t his place to ask and he doubted that she’d tell him. It wasn’t like she told anyone though.

Was kinda glad that y/n quit. Jason always felt queasy when seeing or even thinking of her getting hurt since it reminds him of when he was so close to taking her life. And he always felt that she wasn’t made for this kind of work.

She was too soft to fight the Killer Croc or face Scarecrow. Even though Jason always felt that way, he’d never say it aloud. He couldn’t bring himself to dampen that twinkle in her eyes.

“I saw how hard you hit the punching bag, why are you holding back now?”

“I don’t know…I don’t want to hurt you or anything.”

“y/n, you're supposed to come at me with everything you got.”

“But I don’t like hurting you or anyone.”

Tim Drake

Tim and y/n were close even though it was a bit awkward at first. They geeked out about the latest games and shows. Staying up late enjoying whatever type entertainment with junk food much to the dismay of Bruce and Alfred.

y/n admired his intelligence and how patient he was when explaining something to her. Whether it was homework or something else entirely, he was the one she felt most comfortable asking for help from.

She was low-key jealous of how quickly Tim was able to gain the title of Robin while it took her years of training to become Batgirl. But the jealousy would later be admiration for a time.

Tim always felt privileged when y/n showed her artwork to him. She never likes showing it to anyone and hates when someone tries to look at what she was drawing. So when she asks for his attention and flips her notebook/tablet around he can't help smiling.

Even when they were on good terms, he wasn't sure how to approach her when going through a low. She either needed to be alone, talk, or push. The thing is Tim doesn't know how to appropriately react. He just doesn't want to make anything worse, so he ends up having her sit outside to absorb the sun rays. Since he noticed how that had brightened her low mood.

When y/n quit being Batgirl he gave her some space before asking about it. Surprisingly he didn't get much of an answer. She was usually so open about everything, especially with him.

Realizing that they were getting nowhere with this he backed off. Assuming that she'd tell him when she was ready.

Overtime they began hanging out less and less. He hadn't realized how far they drifted apart until one night. Just making a quick run to the kitchen for some coffee. It was pretty late and he didn't think any else was or would be awake.

Yet there was y/n sitting at the kitchen island writing on a paper with notes scattered around her. Homework. When Tim made his presence known with a simple hi, he noticed how…tense she got. Like she got caught stealing from the forbidden cookie jar.

When asking what she was working on, she gave short answers. He'd expected a monologue of how frustrating learning this new material is. Then asking if she needed help, he saw her jaw slightly clench. It looked like she was going to say more, but only declined with a no.

It was odd, but he didn't think too much of it at the time. He had…He didn't want to admit it, but he had more important things to deal with. If he knew of things that were going to happen, he would've done so much differently.

"— Really? I think this is my worst one yet."

"I don't know what you're talking about, it looks great. I couldn't ever draw something that good."

"Just because you can't draw doesn't make my drawing better. Wait, you were just shitting on me for comparing myself to others."

"Yeah, but that's different."

Damian Wayne/Al Ghul

Never liked y/n from the start. Before she even opened her mouth, just that smile looked so wrong. Damian couldn't put his finger on it, but didn't like it. It seemed so fake because it was.

There wasn't anything that made him feel like he needed to respect her like the others. Sure, she was Batgirl but only for a few years.

She never helped them with anything. She's never there to help in the first place. In his opinion she wasn't anything more than dead weight.

When insulted there was never an insult thrown back. He can tell when he struck a nerve when her lips move to the right and her eyes slightly harden. Maybe her nose will flare up if he hit hard enough.

Then she just responds with a hum before ignoring him or leaving the room. If she didn't respect herself enough to defend herself then why should he even bother with her.

When the family slowly/is yandere he'll reevaluate his view of y/n. Still thinks she's weak and cannot do anything, but less hateful. Which is a good thing until he's trying to have her attention whenever they're in the same room.

Or when he's digging through all her artwork while Dick is giggling to himself when reading her diary. Finding out their interest in the arts, he's forcing her to paint. Doesn't care if she doesn't like it, they're painting together.

"Why can't you carry your weight around the house? All you do is sit in your room."

"Hm."

"I don't even know why you're still here, Father should have kicked you out after you stopped being useful."

"Mhhm."

"I know you can hear me. You just don't know how to respond because it's true."

"Hmm."

|*|*|*|*|

Dear Diary,

Today my family tried to talk to me.

It was weird.

[ahdraftingco]

Oneshot: Trouble

Pairing: Dark!Joel Miller x Innocent!Reader

AO3 Crosspost: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44157645

Summary: Ellie's gone. She ran away a while ago, after she discovered Joel's lie. It was a lie he had to make for his own sake because he couldn't handle losing her but still, he lost her. Now, he walks the wasteland alone, searching for purpose…and that's when he stumbles onto you. A bright, young woman who had gotten through the worst of it without losing her innocence to a world gone mad. If only you knew what was in store for you now that Joel has found a new person to latch onto…

Word Count: 8.2k+

A/N: As always, please read through ALL the warnings before proceeding: porn with plot, dead dove: do not eat (this story is not for the faint of heart so don't say i didn't warn ya), borderline non-con, dark!joel miller, loss of virginity, dom/sub undertones, age gap, use of the word "daddy"/"baby girl", bondage, forced orgasms, gunplay, praise kink, somnophilia, size difference, genuine fear/peril, death threats, cum play, rough sex, sexual coercion, squirting, breeding kink (unprotected piv, possible pregnancy/pregnancy talk), angst, mentions of violence, degradation, references to death

This fic will contain spoilers to TLOU Part One, so if you haven't played the game, please be aware that I will be referencing canon events. Hope you enjoy the sinister Joel I've made up and yes, I did based the physical description off Pedro Pascal's portrayal of Joel ~ ♡

It's been months since Ellie left Joel. He had gone out to look for supplies, since she had been sick. It wasn't until he got back and saw that she had taken up everything she could carry that he realized it had all been an act to let his guard down.

He had thought they were past what had happened at the hospital, since it's been almost five years, but the truth is…he knew what he had done was unforgivable. She was the cure. She wanted to die for the cause. She knew what she had to do but he was the one who wasn't ready to let her go.

This is the price he will pay for it.

It breaks Joel down more and more every day that passes as he scavenges the east coast, hoping he'll find clues of Ellie's whereabouts somewhere. Though, he taught her well, which meant he was almost certain she'd be hard to find.

If she's smart, which he knows she is, Ellie would've made it to the north before the winter began. That way, there's no chance of Joel ever catching up to her in the snow.

With a heavy sigh, Joel makes his trek up the state highway, weaving through abandoned cars. He'll be in New York soon. There once was a station there, but it quickly grew overcrowded and fell soon after.

Not enough food for people to eat, not enough protection for people to survive.

The infected would be roaming in the city, but Joel knew to avoid the densely populated areas. He didn't want trouble.

And yet, trouble always finds him.

Trouble had a name this time. Your name, though he didn't know it just yet.

Instead, as he watches you from a distance, Joel calls you baby girl in his mind, seeing how much younger you were than him. It was obvious you were older than Ellie though. You were an adult, a young one, but an adult all the same. It makes him wonder how you ended up here all alone.

You're humming to yourself, as if the thought of a threat nearby didn't phase you. It's a song he has heard before. Edge of Seventeen by Stevie Nicks. He can almost hear the guitar riff, but it wasn't anything he could play.

However, at this moment, he wished he could.

Seeing you happily whispering the lyrics to yourself as you take down your laundry fills Joel with a kind of desire that taints his soul. It's dark and twisted, the way he wants to bottle up your joy and keep it all for himself.

How could you be so carefree in a world gone mad? It's as if no one has ever hurt you before.

Maybe…you didn't even know the infected existed.

That's impossible, but it looks like you're completely self-sufficient. You have a lake house and he can see the fishing equipment. You also have a garden with rotating crops that are growing well despite the incoming winter.

Who taught you to live life like this?

Peaceful, alone, without a care.

Joel is almost…disappointed. He'd imagine if anyone else had stumbled upon you, you'd be taken easily. You were like the easiest prey for a hungry predator, since you were clueless to the danger you could be in.

It makes Joel want to protect you…but it also makes him want to own you. There's an insatiable need to show you how much you need him to keep you safe, from people just like him.

So, that's exactly what he's going to do. Joel will make you his. He will weave himself into your life until you can't possibly live without him anymore.

That way, you'd never leave him like Ellie did…

❅❅❅❅❅

Today's catch went swimmingly, as it always does. You reeled in enough to have extra to dry into tasty jerky. Winter is approaching and you start to see your breath in the air, knowing that a storm is brewing. You'll have to start chopping some more firewood to store in the basement in case it's an extra cold winter. The temperature has been dropping every passing year, while the summers have gotten hotter.

You're thankful you won't have to think about summer preparations right now. Having to deal with those forest fires took up so much of your time. Winter is destructive as well, but at least it requires you to stay in instead of slave away all day.

Another winter alone, though. You let out a sigh at the thought. How long has it been since everyone you loved passed away?

You're tired of burying people…

Last month, you had to clean up the house a few miles down the lake. You hated having to do it, but your parents taught you well. The moment someone died, you needed to put them out of their misery or they'd fester and become worse creatures than the resurrected undead.

So, you put a bullet in their head and dug a grave for them. Then, you would spend hours rummaging through their house for any supplies before giving it a good thorough cleaning. It was your way of laying them to rest.

You'll miss that man though. Neither of you exchanged names, but you would trade fish for some of his pepper plants. Sometimes, he'd have canned goods for you that he had made himself. You still have some in your basement now. That'll help for the winter.

All these thoughts help you get through deboning your catch. You light up your wood fire stove so you can make a serving of stew and start the dehydrating process. It isn't until everything is in the pot that you register the rustling outside.

Is that the wind or…no, it can't be.

No one ever comes around these parts. It's so hidden by the trees that only an experienced person would think someone lives out here. That's sort of why your parents bought this house. It was secluded in the best kind of way, which aided a lot when everything went to shit. You were born here, raised here and will likely die here.

However, you weren't expecting that day to come so soon. Whoever is out there…they won't hurt you, will they? Your nerves heighten as you walk towards your door, debating if you should grab your gun.

You don't, because the person knocks.

It's a gentle knock, just three light taps. You calm down a little at that. You figure if it was a malicious person, they'd just break down your door. You haven't ever encountered a malicious person before, since you try not to believe everyone is bad. The people you know have all been kind, despite everything.

You hope this person will be the same.

So, you open your door and…

"Hello there." The older man at your doorstep says in his southern accent. "I was just passing through and I noticed you had a fire going. I don't mean to bother, but would it be alright for me to spend the night here, away from the cold?"

You look the man up and down. He doesn't seem like a threat, though he does have a rifle on his back and a pistol tucked at his belt. He's wearing a brown jacket with a flannel underneath along with several other layers that look like they're getting soaked through from the light snow that's starting already. He has a patchy beard with some grays in it along with soft brown hair that matches his eyes.

The man doesn't look intimidating, besides the weapons he's carrying.

So, you do what your parents had always done when people stumbled upon your little house and tell him, "you can stay the night if you agree to bury your weapons somewhere outside. There's a shovel out back. Choose any spot away from my garden, please."

"I will happily take that offer, thank you." His voice is smooth and gentle, so you ease up a little as you watch him leave to go fulfill your request.

The man returns later with just his bag and as a show of faith, he empties it at the doorstep so you can see what he has in it. You notice how few supplies he has, so you sift through your cabinets for some spare canned goods.

"You can have these." You bring them to him. "I've got plenty."

"You're very kind." He gives you a brief smile before taking the cans from you. "Are you always this welcoming to strangers?"

"I wouldn't call you a stranger. You're simply a traveler passing through. Nothing strange about that in our world."

You quickly leave after you say that to give him a change of clothes, since his are soaked and the spare in his bag doesn't look very warm.

"Would you like to use my bath?" You ask, pointing over at the bathroom down the hall. "I haven't heated any water, so it'll be a minute, but you can take a nice, warm bath if you'd like."

"That sounds wonderful." He seems pleased with your offer. "You're a very good girl, treating me with such hospitality."

"We all deserve some normalcy." You leave him with those words so you can go start the fire for the bath water.

It takes around half an hour to boil enough water in intervals, since your stove is quite small and you can only carry so much water at a time. Though, the man, who lets you know that his name is Joel, helps with that, lugging the pot of water back and forth for you until the tub is filled. You tell him to take his time and that dinner will be ready whenever he's done.

When Joel finishes his bath, he meets you in the kitchen and you pour him a bowl of stew, which you invite him to eat by the fire. You've already eaten your portion so you opt to spend time organizing stock since the storm is coming in stronger than you anticipated. You haven't harvested your winter vegetables yet and you should probably do that now before they get buried.

"Something on your mind?" That southern accent sounds close now and you look up to see Joel standing beside you, empty bowl in his hand. "Thanks for the stew, it was delicious."

You smile, taking it from him so you can quickly wipe it clean and set it aside. Then, you answer his question with a light sigh, "I didn't expect the snow to start falling so quickly. I need to go out and salvage what I can from my garden before I'm snowed in."

"Can I help with that?" Joel offers and you shake your head.

"I can't ask you to do that. You just bathed, plus you're my guest."

"I can always bathe again. You shouldn't be out there alone right now. Let me help." His voice has this tinge of leadership in it that makes you want to follow him, so you eventually agree.

"Alright. In exchange, you can have some of the harvest." You make him a deal.

"Can I ask for something else?" Joel catches you by surprise with that. "Would it be okay if I stayed here until the storm ended?"

"Oh…" He's right. If the storm has started already, he'd be stranded out there if you kicked him out tomorrow.

But, is it really smart to spend an entire storm with a man you've just met?

You can't let him trek through the storm though, so you tell him, "if you help me with some repairs around the house, then you can stay as long as you'd like."

"I'd like that." His smile makes your heart skip a beat.

The rest of the evening is spent shoveling snow and pulling out as many vegetables as you and Joel can carry back and forth to the house before the storm gets significantly worse. You're both soaked head to toe and you're freezing once you both get back into the house. The fire isn't going to warm you up, so you'll definitely need a bath. But, you don't want Joel to get sick, so you offer to have him bathe first, but he declines, since you need to too.

"One of us is going to get sick waiting to bathe." You tell him as you start boiling the water for the bath.

"Then why don't we bathe together?"

Your ears must have been deceiving you and you turn to Joel, who is peeling off his soaked outer layer. He doesn't seem phased at all by what he just said but you're flustered.

"H-how would that work?" You're suddenly feeling warm all over, despite your shivering.

"It'll be like sharing a hot tub." He says with a chuckle. "Just keep your underwear on. I can keep my shirt on too, if you're more comfortable that way."

Now you're embarrassed for a whole other reason. Why did you just assume he meant getting into the bath with him naked? There's no way he'd ask that of you and you feel bad that you even thought such a thing.

"That would work. You don't have to keep your shirt on, but I think I will." You're too shy to be that bare in front of him, but keeping your shirt and underwear on is fine. He doesn't say anything else about it as you both start prepping the bath once again.

When it's ready, you realize there's another problem with this scenario. It's not all that big of a bath. How would you both fit?

"You'll just have to sit between my legs." Joel tells you while he strips. "I'll get in first and guide you into a comfortable position."

You let him take the lead, though you turn away when he pulls off his shirt and don't turn back until you hear him get into the bath. Then, you strip as quickly as you can, leaving yourself in just your shirt and underwear. Joel puts his hand out and you take it, letting him help you in. He has you sitting between his legs, with your back against his chest, and…it's oddly nice.

The bath water is very warm and your shirt rises a little since there's air under it, so you try your best to smooth it out, though that doesn't help much.

"Do you want to take it off?" Joel asks you, his warm breath tickling the back of your ear.

"I…" You would but… "I'm not wearing anything underneath."

You aren't the biggest fan of bras. They're only good when you're exercising or doing some heavy lifting and don't want your breasts to get in the way. So, you don't wear them regularly unless you feel the need to.

"I won't look." He rests his chin on your head. "I'll keep my eyes up so you can get comfy."

That would be nice. It's odd how easy things are around Joel because you feel like you can trust him to do as he says, so you opt to pull off your shirt, tossing it aside. It hits the floor, the wet sound echoing through the room. You adjust yourself so that your breasts are submerged beneath the water and when you tilt your head up, Joel has his lifted to the ceiling, not stealing any glances at you.

Though, it wasn't his eyes you should've been worried about. You hadn't noticed where his hands were resting until you felt one of them slide up to cup your breast and the other slips down into your underwear. You're about to say something but then Joel rolls his thumb over your nipple and you can't stop the light moan that leaves your lips at the sudden sensation.

"Does that feel good, baby girl?" He whispers right into your ear with such sultry affection. "Do you want daddy to keep touching you like this?"

Before you can reply, Joel presses a finger against your entrance and forces his way into you, making you gasp. Your toes curl when his finger does, filling you up so much out of nowhere. It's nothing like when you touch yourself and in combination with his other hand teasing your breasts, you can't hold in the soft whimpers from how good it feels.

You need to tell him to stop, but then he thrusts another finger inside of you and you cry out from how much he's stretching you out. You've never been this full before.

"You're so tight." That word lingers in the air and you're getting dizzy from his seductive tone. "Has no one ever touched you before?"

You shake your head, not knowing why you're able to answer him but not able to tell him to stop…

"Are you telling me this is all mine?" He pushes up against a spot inside of you with his fingers that makes your whole body shiver in reaction. "You're sucking me in, baby girl. I'm jealous of my own fingers."

There's so many questions you want to ask him, like why he's doing this to you and why it feels good even though you shouldn't want a random man you just met to touch you, but none of those questions can be asked when every breath you take is stolen by a moan or whimper.

Something's building inside of you, that tension you've only felt on occasion when you've been bored and masturbated. However, this is even more intense than those times, because you're not the one setting the pace.

Joel is aggressive with his touch, fingering you at a pace you wouldn't be able to. Then, every now and then, he spreads them, reminding you of how big his fingers are as they stretch you out.

You're on the cusp of your orgasm and that scares you.

Why are you about to cum from this?

Why aren't you stopping him!

"Don't hold it in." He urges you to let go. "Cum for your daddy."

You're not my—you can't seem to finish your own thoughts because he's forcing your orgasm onto you, his fingers ruthlessly grinding against that spot inside of you that makes you cum hard. You're thankful you're in the bath right now because you swore, you squirted for the first time. You've never came that much before, tears streaming down your eyes from the intensity of it.

The pleasure sears every inch of your skin, making it hotter than before and the steam from the bath isn't helping your mind calm down. You're getting lost in that daze and it's not ending.

Especially not when Joel keeps going and he adds another finger, spreading you wide open. You're gasping for air from how filled you feel and he must not like that because he takes his other hand and shoves his fingers into your mouth. You gag on them, not expecting to have his fingers invade your mouth, but he doesn't care that you feel that way.

Instead, he goes, "be a good girl and enjoy yourself."

You wonder how you're supposed to enjoy yourself when your mouth is as full as your pussy is but soon enough, you understand. Every moan you want to make is forced back down your throat by his fingers and it's hard to breathe like this but that just causes your body to tense up more around his fingers. They're hitting you so deep inside that you're going to cum again all too quickly.

You try to tell him to stop but your words come out all gurgled up from the saliva pooling up in your mouth since his fingers are playing with your tongue. You're practically drooling and you try to swallow, but that means you have to suck on his fingers to do so, which only riles him up more.

"That's good practice, baby girl." He encourages you to keep doing that to prepare yourself for something else. "I can't wait to bury my cock in this pretty little mouth and your tight wet pussy."

You're on the verge of tears again and you don't know if it's out of fear or arousal as you get closer and closer to your next orgasm. You don't want his cock anywhere near you but you realize then that he's been pressing his hard cock up against your back this whole time. If you thought his fingers filled you up, you were certain his cock would break you.

You start to panic, trying to shove his arm away from you so he can stop fingering you but that only angers him. So, Joel retaliates by pulling his fingers out of your mouth and wrapping his hand around your throat, squeezing it hard.

"Don't make me kill you." He threatens and you go completely still. "I don't want to, but if you keep misbehaving, I will."

"Please…" You sob out of pure fear. "Don't hurt me."

"I would never want to hurt you. You're my precious girl, so don't make me do anything I don't want to, okay?" He lightens his hold on your neck then and you inhale as much air as you can, trying to find your composure. "You're going to cum for me again and then I'm going to take you to bed. Understood?"

You don't want to say it but he'll kill you if you don't so you nod and tell him, "I understand."

"Address me correctly when you're talking to me." His fingers press into your neck, as a little warning.

You swallow your nerves then go, "I understand, daddy."

"Good girl. Daddy likes it when you listen." He gives you a soft kiss on the cheek, changing his tone all too easily. "Now, let me spoil my baby girl."

You brace yourself as his fingers curl their way back inside of you, going much more gently this time. Strangely, it's not enough to get you close. His pace is too slow, too soft, and you're trembling from how much you want him to be rougher with you.

"Say what you want." It's like he can read your thoughts. "Tell me and I'll do it for you."

You shouldn't say anything but your body is craving that feeling too much, so you give in and say, "more, please. I want more."

"Do you want me to go faster?" He asks as he does exactly that and you nod profusely. He suddenly slows though, so you know what you have to do.

"Yes, daddy, please go faster." You say what he wants to hear and he ramps up the speed again, giving you what you need. "Please don't stop, I'm so close…"

"I want to see it." Joel growls in your ear before you hear a pop and the plug in the tub is no longer in place. The water suddenly drains out rapidly and you stiffen at the cold air hitting your warm skin. "You better cum a lot for me."

You don't know what he means until he starts to move his fingers side by side inside of you and you squirt uncontrollably, screaming from how forceful he is at drawing your orgasm out of you. You can't think straight because you can't stop cumming, every orgasm gushing out of you against your will.

"Stop!" You shout because it's too much, you're too sensitive now and you're going to pass out. "I keep cumming, I keep–"

"That's good." He slowly corrupts you. "You want to keep cumming. You want to drown in the pleasure only I can give you. Enjoy it, baby girl."

And you do.

You hate how much you end up enjoying it, bathing in such bliss. It consumes you completely…and you faint somewhere along the way. You've never felt so good before. Your body can't handle it and you pass out from the high…

❅❅❅❅❅

Joel dries your hair for you while you're unconscious. He likes how peaceful you look, having fallen asleep to the orgasms he gave you. He wants you to look like this everyday and he'll make sure it happens.

A sweet girl like you deserves to be treated well.

Maybe that's why he can't resist touching you in your sleep. Joel watches as your chest begins to rise and fall more and more with every gentle stroke of his fingers. You're getting so wet for him now. He wonders what you're dreaming of and if he's in it.

He'd like to be. He wants you to only think of him. He's the only one that you need. He's the only one that matters. No one else will take you from him.

Joel refuses to make the same mistake twice. He loved Ellie like a daughter, raising her to be a strong woman. A woman strong enough to leave him in the dust because of a lie he made.

So, he has to be more careful with you. You're malleable, he's certain of that. You'll need some persuading, but you'll listen to him. First, out of fear, but eventually, out of love.

All he needs to do is tie you to him the only way he knows will work…by making you fall for him.

❅❅❅❅❅

It isn't until you wake that you realize your body is still heated from all the orgasms. You're aching from the waist down and you wonder why…until you see Joel between your legs, his tongue dragging up and down your pussy like he's starved for your taste.

How long has he been…you can't even formulate the sentence because he flicks your clit with his tongue and you squirt just a little from how overstimulated you are. A whimper leaves your lips because of it that draws Joel's attention to you and he smiles, happy to see you awake.

"How did you sleep?" His voice is so eerily calm…

You're unsure of how to answer that, so you ask back, "did you sleep?"

He nods. "I slept great, holding you in my arms."

"How long have I been asleep?" You're confused…

"A little over two days."

Your eyes widen at his words. Have you really been passed out for that long?

"Why are you down there?" If you've been asleep, why is he touching you?

"I needed to make sure whenever you were awake that you'd be nice and ready for me." He teases your entrance with three of his fingers before slipping each one inside of you slowly.

You brace yourself, expecting for the sudden stretch to hurt but…it doesn't. His fingers feel thick inside of you, but it's not anything you can't handle.

What did he do to you while you were asleep…

"You're almost ready for me, baby girl." His thumb presses lightly on your clit when he says that, sending shivers through you. "I've opened you up as best I could."

"Please, Joel…" You plead to him. "I don't want this."

"Your body says otherwise." He tells you as he curls his fingers and you nearly cum just from that. "See, you want this. Why are you running from it?"

"You're not giving me a choice." He's throwing himself at you and you're unable to stop him.

"I did give you a choice." Your breath catches in your throat when you hear the safety of your pistol flick off and Joel presses the barrel against your bare chest, right where your heart is. You only notice then that you're completely naked. "Either I kill you, or you enjoy my touch. I had assumed you'd chosen the latter, but if I'm wrong…"

His finger hovers over the trigger and you shake your head profusely, not wanting to die like this, not when his fingers are still teasing your insides. It's unbearable, the weight of the gun on your chest while his fingertips drag along that spot inside of you that makes your toes curl.

So, you succumb to the scenario you've found yourself in, "you're not wrong. I want this. I'll enjoy myself. I promise."

"Then, cum." He commands, keeping the gun steady on your chest. "Show me you're being honest."

You bite your lip and choke back your own dignity as you grind your hips against his hand, thrusting his fingers inside of you the way you need them to. You gasp when he starts to follow your rhythm, pushing you closer to the edge. It's a great distraction, because you barely notice the way he's trailing the pistol up your chest, but you're well aware of it when it brushes against your lips, forcing you to part them open.

Before you can beg him not to, Joel rests the barrel of the pistol in your mouth, the cold metal coating every one of your taste buds. You gag a little when he drags it against your tongue, but you can't focus on it while his fingers are inside of you. Tears start to stream from your eyes out of sheer terror and the most warped and frightening smile curves on Joel's face the moment he sees you.

That's when he undoes the safety of the pistol yet again and rests his finger on the trigger, his voice more menacing than ever as he goes, "cum for me right now or I'll blow your brains out, baby girl."

Every muscle in your body tightens at the threat and that's all it takes for the tension in your body to explode. You can't tell if you're screaming or moaning as your orgasm ripples through you violently, locking up every sense with nothing but pleasure. You can't feel, you can't see, you can't think.

All you can do is cum because that's what he wants from you.

Relief washes over you when Joel pulls the gun out of your mouth and tucks it away behind his back. His fingers release you from their hold and an empty feeling is tainting your mind. You've been so full for so long that it feels…wrong to be hollow.

How much has he corrupted you? How long is he going to stay until you're exactly what he needs you to be?

His baby girl…

You need to get out of here. You need to run. You need to fight Joel for your life back because you can't be his.

And yet, you can't find it in yourself to shove him away.

Not when he's whispering so softly to you, "good girl, that must've felt great. Let me make you feel even better now."

It isn't until you feel the tip of his cock press against your pussy that you snap back to the reality of it all. You're going to have your first time right now and he's going to fuck you raw.

The last bit of rationality courses through you as you plead, "please, don't do this. I don't have any condoms, I don't want to–"

"It's okay, darlin'." His southern accent sends shivers down your spine. "This is what you were meant for. This is what your body craves. Just let it happen and I'll take care of you."

You claw at his chest the moment he starts to force his way inside of you, his cock stretching you out more than his fingers did. You've never felt this kind of pressure before as he opens you up with every thrust. He doesn't like that you're trying to fight him, so the next time you shove at him, he smacks you right across the face. You gasp at the feeling and he pushes more of himself inside your swollen pussy then, smiling.

"You're so tight and yet you're taking every inch of me." Joel suddenly grabs you by your hair, pulling you forward so you can stare at the way his cock is slowly disappearing inside of you. "Almost there, just a bit more."

"Let me go." You cry out, wanting him to take his hand out of your hair. "Please, it hurts."

"Grab onto the headboard and I will." He makes you a deal and you listen, wrapping your hands around the metal.

His hand leaves your hair, letting your head drop back onto your pillow, and you relax just a bit. It doesn't last though, not when he pulls out a piece of fabric from his pocket and binds your wrists.

"Now, hold on tight, baby girl." His hands rest at your hips now, gripping your flesh. "I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."

You don't understand what he means until he pulls his cock out of you and rams it back inside, hilting all of a sudden. He's too deep, too big and all too much for you.

You try to say something but he raises his hand at you before you can, instructing, "if you want to speak, you better address me correctly or I will have to teach you a lesson."

You swallow at his threat, your throat going dry. Goosebumps rise on your skin and you're scared to say anything but you want him to be gentle. He'll break you if he keeps being this rough.

So, you stuff your pride away and beg, "please go slowly, daddy."

His smile softens then, liking how you've listened, and he rewards you by rolling his hips, letting you get used to him being inside of you, grinding himself back and forth against every spot that makes your pussy tingle.

It's starting to feel good and that's frightening because you're biting back your whimpers. You can't enjoy this. It's wrong. He's taking you by force and yet your body is desperate enough to meet him halfway, wanting more.

"Does my baby girl enjoy being fucked?" Joel adjusts a bit so that he can thrust upwards into you, hitting that spot that makes you see stars. "Tell me you do."

You keep your mouth shut, not wanting to say a word, and he doesn't like that at all. So, when you're right at the cusp of your orgasm, he pulls out of you, leaving you struggling against your restraints.

"If you want it, say it." He starts to rub his hard cock against your pussy, teasing your sensitive clit with the tip of it. It's torture because it's not enough to get you there.

You need more. You need him inside of you.

Joel takes his time to torment you, dipping into you just a bit before pulling out, dropping his cock over and over again on your pussy, rubbing circles around your clit.

Eventually, you can't handle the denial anymore so you cave and go, "please fuck me. I want to cum."

"Say it again." He wants you to embarrass yourself further and your skin burns from it.

"I want to cum. Please fuck me. I need you, daddy." You add on, hoping that's enough.

It is, because the moment he thrusts inside of you, you cum. You cum all over his cock and he rewards you by fucking you harder, making your orgasm even more intense. You're gasping for air because it doesn't seem to stop. You're throbbing inside and every thrust sends such waves of pleasure through you.

"You're milking my cock so well." He praises you. "Someone's desperate for my cum."

Your eyes widen when you realize he must be close from the way he's pumping into you and you panic, "please cum outside, don't cum in me."

"How am I supposed to cum outside when you're not letting me go?" He tries to pull out but your pussy is gripping onto him too tightly.

"No, don't, please." You can't get pregnant. You can't have a baby with a man you've just met. You can't…but he won't let you decide otherwise.

"You'll feel so much better once you're all filled up." Joel reassures you in the worst way possible. "Soon, you'll beg for it."

There's no way you would. Why would you ever want such a thing?

"Enjoy it." He says sweetly to you, looking at you with such affection. "We won't be able to fuck much when you're pregnant, so it's best to make every time count."

You want to ask why he wants you of all people, a random girl he met in the middle of the woods in the winter, but you're certain he won't have an answer. Perhaps this was all just bad timing and even worse luck.

It doesn't feel like much at first, when he finishes inside of you. It's hot and it spills out of you when he pulls away. Joel takes his time, pushing as much cum as he can back inside of you. You hate the orgasms you have from that simple action.

It isn't until the second time that it feels…primal. You can't explain it, but when he's fucking you like a feral animal, you find yourself leaning into it. Your body isn't in tune with your mind anymore. It's not listening to your pleas because it knows it feels good to be taken by him. He never hurts you unless you do something he doesn't like, which is rare. He only ever wants you to feel pleasure.

Days go by of this, of just…constant breeding. You will sleep, then wake up, fuck, have breakfast, fuck, have lunch, fuck, do house chores then fuck in the shower afterwards, then eat dinner which always ends with you bend over the dining table because you're the meal he's actually hungry for. This cycle repeats until you get your period.

The disappointment on Joel's face stings. It's like you failed him. You couldn't give him what he wanted. You don't like the feeling…but a tiny voice in your head reminds you that you shouldn't want to please him anyways.

During your period, Joel teaches you how to suck his cock, since he can't fuck you. As a reward for learning, he caters to you, helping you with your cramps, rubbing your belly when it aches, cuddling you like you're the love of his life. It's…jarring, to say the least. You'll go from him fucking your face to him caressing your back and whispering sweet words to you.

Run. That tiny voice yells into the abyss that is your mind right now. Run far away from here.

You want to listen but…where would you go? You grew up here. You don't know anywhere else. This is your home and he's the intruder.

An intruder who's making himself at home.

"Does your stomach still hurt?" Joel asks because you've tensed up against him, your thoughts influencing your nerves.

"A little." You lean into his chest, not because you want to, but because he's warm and the winter has been cold. "I'll be okay."

"You'll always be okay, baby girl." He presses a soft kiss on your forehead, taking in a long breath before saying, "I'll keep you safe."

Safe from who? You wonder, because you aren't safe from him…

❅❅❅❅❅

Another month passes and you're late. You counted the days, mainly because Joel made you, and you're late. You've never been late before, which can only mean…

"We won't know for sure, but we can find out." You suggest. "There's a convenience store a few miles up. There's no food there, but there's plenty of pregnancy tests. I remember seeing them."

You chew on the inside of your cheek, hoping he'll take the bait. Please say yes.

You need to get him away from your house. You need to kill him but you can't do it here. You need to do it somewhere he isn't familiar with.

A place where you know a gun is hidden.

"Better to be sure." Joel agrees to the trip. "But you're coming with me."

"Okay." You knew you'd have to. "I'd like to walk with you. It's a nice hike, now that the snow has melted."

The rest of the day is spent preparing for the day trip. When it's finally time to sleep, you're surprised to feel Joel's cock harden behind you as he spoons you. He rubs himself against you and you hate how your body reacts to it, leaning into the feeling.

"Just to be sure." He whispers to you and you know what he means. He doesn't have to say much else.

You feel him nudge you until you're on your hands and knees and he's situated behind you, pulling down your pajama pants. Joel lines his cock up at your entrance and in one single motion, he fills you to the very brim. You can't hold in your moan, not when his body is pressing down onto you, engulfing you completely as he starts to pound into you.

"How does it feel to be mine, my sweet baby girl?" He asks, his hips meeting your ass perfectly.

"So good." You don't lie because you know it'll be the last time you do this with him. "Please don't stop, daddy."

"Never." He says, grabbing you by your hair so that he can kiss the back of your head. "I wouldn't dream of letting you go."

With his hand still in your hair, Joel continues to fuck you from behind, tugging you back to meet him. His lips on yours are sloppy, but you kiss him back, feeling connected with him on all levels. Your body moves against his in perfect harmony and you drown in the moment

It isn't until he whispers the words "I love you" that your heart pinches just a bit, remembering the reality. You're going to kill him tomorrow, this man who loves you in a sick and twisted way.

"Fill me up." You whisper back, giving him something else, since you can't give him your love. "I need you, Joel."

That's enough for him to finish inside of you, the heat spilling into you in waves. His cock pulses inside of you for a few moments before he pulls out and lays back beside you.

You go back to the way you were laying before, and he spoons you to sleep. You wonder what it'll feel like to sleep alone, now that you've slept with someone for this long.

You're going to miss it…maybe even him too…

❅❅❅❅❅

Now that the snow has thawed, the ground is much less muddy. You still had to wear your boots, which aren't uncomfortable but they're harder to run in. You don't think you'll need to run but…you want to stay prepared.

Joel tells you a bit more about himself on the walk to the convenience store. You're unsure if you want to know more about the man you're about to kill, but you can't refuse him, so you listen.

You don't expect him to tell you about Sarah…but now everything makes sense. Perhaps, he's been waiting for a chance to make things right. To raise a child who won't end up dying in his arms and leaving him forever.

You clutch your stomach when he's not looking, scared of your own mind. Scared that the tiny voice in your head is now whispering guilty thoughts…

You can't. It's not reasonable to have a child in a world like this. Especially not with a man like him.

You say that, but Joel has warped you in a different way. You won't lie and say you won't miss him when he's gone. It's hard not to miss someone you've spent the last two months getting to know in more intimate ways than two normal strangers would.

As a war breaks out in your mind, you and Joel get to the convenience store. The front glass is shattered, but it's always been like that. Looters at the very beginning of it all broke it, which is why there's moss going on the shards that were left behind. That's what your parents told you.

You miss them more and more with each passing day. They were well-prepared to have you, knowing they've set up a little oasis in the middle of disaster.

You can't have this child with Joel. You're ill-prepared to be a mother. You're unsure if Joel would even be a good father, even if he claims that's all he wants to be.

Would a good father taint someone else's daughter the way he has tainted you?

You hold back your sigh as you and Joel walk over the glass to get into the store. It's a small store, so it's not difficult to find what you're looking for. You wonder if these will even work, since they probably have an expiration date, but you just have to know.

For your own sake, more than Joel's.

Once you've packed a fair amount of pregnancy tests into your bag, you tell Joel that you've stashed some canned goods behind the counter in the off chance you might get stuck out and about, and you wanted to check if they were still there. It's not a lie, but you stashed a gun there too.

So, you go to the floorboard you hid everything under and pull it open and—

The sound of a gun's safety flicking off freezes you in your tracks. You swallow, hard.

Fuck, did Joel figure it out? You're too frightened to look up, scared that you'll be staring into the barrel of a gun.

But then, a new voice appears and she goes, "step away from her, Joel."

You glance up then and your eyes meet the girl's for a second. She's young, maybe barely eighteen, and yet she wields the gun you had hidden in the floorboards like she's used to handling them. That thought should worry you, but you're more worried about how she knows Joel.

Did he…do something to her too?

"Ellie, please." Joel pleads, his hands up. "Don't take her away from me."

"I know what you did to her." Ellie has her finger on the trigger, ready to shoot him. "I saw what she put in her bag."

"She's pregnant. We're going to be a family." He tries to reason with her. "Come back with us. We have a home. You'll have a little brother or sister soon. Wouldn't that be nice?"

"You're sick, Joel." She gestures for you to come over to her and even though Joel's eyes pierce into yours to stop you, you still make the trek over to her. Once you're securely behind her, she continues her harsh words to Joel, "you don't know what it means to be family. Family wouldn't do this, wouldn't do the things you've done."

"I can change. I can do better. I'm sorry."

You've never seen Joel so weak before. The once scary man that held you captive is now cowering before this girl.

"Sorry won't bring them back." Ellie tells him and you wonder what she means by that. "So, don't come looking for us. I'm taking her and I'm leaving now."

"Please, don't take her." He begs, his voice cracking as he goes, "I love her."

You open your mouth to say something, but Ellie stops you. Maybe she knows what you're about to say, or maybe she just doesn't want you to say it back to him. Not that you would…right?

"This isn't love, Joel." She tells him for you. "Whatever this is…it sure as fuck isn't love. I'm sorry. You did this to yourself."

The moment those words leave her mouth, she shoots Joel. You cover your ears at the sudden sound as it echoes through the quiet.

You hear Joel scream and you realize then that Ellie didn't shoot him in the head. She shot him in the leg, so he couldn't catch up to you two.

"We have to go, now." She grabs your hand and you both start to run.

Run, that voice comes back in your mind, run and don't look back.

❅❅❅❅❅

You and Ellie take a break once you're a good distance away from the convenience store. You give her some of your water, since it looks like she's low on supplies. She asks you about what happened and…you tell her. Not in full detail, but enough.

"That fucker." She seems angry at Joel for more than just what he did to you, but you won't pry about what exactly.

"Who is he to you?" You ask Ellie, wanting to know that instead.

"He's trouble. The kind of trouble I need the strength to take care of before he hurts anyone else…" She says, the anger leaving her voice as a sadness seeps in, "but I'm not strong enough yet. I couldn't kill him…but I will one day."

You can tell she doesn't want to, and you understand why. You might be the only one out there who understands her because you feel the same way.

There's no way Joel isn't looking for you two.

So, your journey with Ellie begins. You're both on the run from Joel, but also finding the will to hunt him too. All while wondering if he's imprinting himself onto you the way he wanted to.

You press your hand on your stomach and chills run through you.

You should've known Joel was trouble the moment he walked through your front door…

A/N: I've always wanted to write a villain!joel since I feel like it actually fits his character a lot, if he was given the right set of circumstances. I also am a big fan of the "I need to kill him before he kills me" trope, but with a twist! The addition of Ellie in this part makes me really happy and gets my mind rolling. The latter half of this one-shot is very plot-heavy, which is new for me but I kind of like it? It really builds up to a possible sequel! So, if you're interested in a sequel, please let me know! This really does have the potential to be a whole series ♡

[illusivelle]

shake the frost / 1

pairing: william 'ironhead' miller x female reader rating: t (for now) length: 2,140 words content: established relationship with the triple frontier boys, drinking, light pining summary: you've always held a small spark for will and tonight is the first time you realize he might be looking at you in the same light, with a promise of something more. a/n: been a long time since i put something out there so please be gentle, but figured why not, especially if the idea's been rotting in my brain. not edited or proofread, will likely be one part of a series (that will gradually become nsfw surely). mostly just taking it as i go, but hoping you enjoy! thanks for reading. link to ao3 here!

You’ve known Frankie for most of your life, a constant presence akin to a brother. You’ve witnessed him transform from a once fun-loving guy into a steely, quiet one. Still outgoing, still willing to go to bat for his friends – just different. Different in ways you couldn’t begin to understand when you were younger and couldn’t bear to think about it now that you knew. Not that you would ever know it all, but it was easy enough to grasp the change war brings around, especially to someone you long considered family.

But it was nights like tonight that made everything feel normal, you and Frankie playing rounds of pool and betting on rounds of drinks. You finally had a string of days off from work and as soon as you got the text from Frankie to join him and his buddies at the bar, it was hard to find an excuse to say no. Not when he’d been hiding out for a while, not after everything that happened with one of his closest friends. You wished you could’ve been there for him but Frankie didn’t let you, but he was inviting you out now and you’d be foolish to miss the chance again.

“Pay up, pilot.” You settle a hand on your hip, a waiting palm out in his direction. Frankie had that shit-eating grin while he shook his head at you, his hand sliding into his pocket when the bell chimed above the door and a loud laugh echoed through the dim space.

“Oh-ho-ho!” Your head jerks to find Frankie’s friend stride in, first the tall one you remember as Benny. He’d been the fighter you stitched up some time ago when Frankie called you over for help. Trailing closely behind him is a blonde, that one with striking blue eyes you couldn’t seem to look away from when you first met, while you were tending to his brother’s wounds. Will, he’d introduced himself then. A name you found hard to wipe from your mind, a face you found hard to look away from as his gaze connects with yours. You suck in a deep breath like that might help ground you but what actually does is the way Benny’s frame cuts into your line of sight, suddenly feet in front of you. “If it isn’t Doctor Shortcake.”

You cast your eyes up at him with a shake of your head, one because you weren’t a doctor, and two because “just my name is fine. You do know it, don’t you, Benny?” You’ve never been fond of pet names or nicknames and you weren’t about to be now, not even with the low drawl of Benny’s voice. He doesn’t say anything, just walks to the bar with his hands shoved into his pocket whistling a tune. It’s then you register Santiago is here, too, as he’s pulling you into a side hug and calling you mija. A term of endearment you’d let slide if only because you saw Santiago as more of a parental figure than you ever did Frankie.

But the one you’re really waiting to talk to is leaning against the edge of the pool table, his arms crossed against his chest as he talks with Frankie. His voice draws you in, your eyes landing on his mouth before they drift up to those powder blues. Ones that were looking right at you, heat crawling up your cheeks. “Hi.” You murmur and take a step toward him. Maybe it would be better to lean into it than to pretend he hadn’t just caught you staring at his lips.

“Hi.” The faintest smile hangs from his mouth while his gaze lingers on yours. “It’s been a while.”

A while was an understatement. You’d first met Will, and the rest of the guys, what felt like years ago. You were as much of a fixture in Frankie’s life as they were in his, but it was always either you and Frankie, or you tagging along with Frankie and the guys. You never had a moment alone with any of them, and certainly never with Will no matter how often you might’ve thought about it. Instead, the two of you stole fleeting glances, exchanged small smiles, the occasional conversation here and there but never about anything too personal – and never for too long. Frankie didn’t say much about it, just a sordid reminder one of the first times he noticed you eyeing Will for too long that the captain kept almost everyone at arm’s length and to not get your hopes up.

But that didn’t mean you couldn’t… look, right? Besides, you’re far too shy to try to make any kind of move, especially on a guy like Will Miller. Quiet, stoic, hard to read. Everytime you were around him, even just the feel of his sea of blues on you made your skin prickle, the depths in those eyes something you could get lost in. Every wash of blue something you might see in the ocean. Something you could drown in.

“Beating Frankie at pool?” His words cut into your thoughts.

“Oh, I was–” you chuckle softly, chin tucking into your chest bashfully, “I was, yeah, but he doesn’t wanna pay up.”

“Let’s play. I’ll double it.”

What? You blink up in near surprise but your head tilts with slight intrigue. “You sure? I’m pretty good…”

This pulls a gentle laugh from him and you can’t help your smile. You’ll replay that sound tonight, you’re sure, until the next time you could hopefully draw it out of him again. “Yeah. Frankie’s gonna go broke, so I’ll bail him out this time.”

At this, Frankie snorts, claps Will’s shoulder and mentions that he’s off to the bar to grab some drinks. Benny is still there, Santiago chatting him up, and it leaves you and Will alone – for the first time. Sure, there’s the energy of the other patrons and the giant pool table in between you, but they all seem to blur the second he’s offering you one of the pool cues. It’s barely a graze of his fingertips but it’s enough of a touch to reel you in. “Alright. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” There’s not a drip of a threat in your tone, light and teasing to accompany the warm flush sprawling over your face.

It was something you couldn’t hide, either, not even with your hair falling against your temple. You knew Will would see it, knew he was entirely too observant to miss a beat. Maybe he was already counting all the ways he made you blush, and why were you so curious to know how he felt about that? 

“Let’s see what you got.” He’s already set up the balls, gesturing for you to break.

For as shy as you were, there were always a couple of scenarios where you were braver than usual. One, at work. Helping others came naturally to you, something you studied long and hard for. It wasn’t that you were turning your brain off, but in a weird way, it felt like that – a sort of routine that came easy. The second was times like now. A little competition always lit a spark in you, confidence growing with each drop of a ball in a pocket or each round of poker you won. It helped that guys like Frankie were always so appalled and confused when you’d win, thinking they had the upper hand. And wasn’t it just so much more fun to surprise people that way?

You break clean, sinking a solid colour in a pocket, turning to Will with the corner of your lip tugging up into half a smirk. “That makes you stripes.” You say as you move around him, leaning forward on the table to line up your next shot, but Will is quick to shift his body to face you. It’s almost unnerving and your grip on the stick loosens a little, or maybe your palm’s just become damp from the nerves. Why were you nervous? It was just Will. A friend of Frankie’s. It was just pool. A game you’ve played too many times to count. Just another guy, just another game.

“You okay?” He chimes and for a second, you swore he wasn’t teasing. Swore that you could hear that underlying concern in his tone.

You flash your eyes up at him, a light crinkle at the corners. “Good. Thanks.” Then you turn your attention back to the game and sink another ball.

You’re good – but Will is, too. You should be frustrated every time a striped ball makes it in but you’re finding this thrilling, someone who could challenge you, innocent as your interactions were. Even when you were looking at each other from across the table, it felt like a small exchange. One final ball for the both of you, but it’s your turn, your chance to end the game. “You sure you said double?” You breathe out, glancing up at Will from where you’re folded over, pool cue aimed at the white ball. 

“I’m sure.” He’s propped up against the back of a bar stool now, beer in hand, the boys scattered about having their own conversations. Benny pipes in at the perfect time to taunt his brother and if Will even hears him, he doesn’t show it – his blue eyes strictly on you. Taunting you in silence, instead.

Another deep breath, one you let out slowly as the end of the stick hits the edge of the white ball, rolling and rolling until it knocks into a coloured one. But you don’t pay it any mind, not quite caring whether or not it went in because you’re daring a glance up at Will… and he’s still looking at you. A few beats pass before you hear a loud smack on a table, “she got you good, man!” Benny clutching onto his brother’s shoulders, shaking it almost violently.

You roll your lips in between your teeth to hide a coy smile, but it’s obvious the way a blush steals across your cheeks. Will manages to escape Benny’s hold, slow and steady strides until he’s finally standing in front of you, one hand wrapped around the cue he’s holding and the other digging into his pocket. “Why don’t we–” you nod to his hand, the one that’s about to procure your prize, “have a rematch sometime? Triple or nothing.”

“Oooooh boy, that confidence is unmatched.” Benny laughs.

You lift a shoulder in a faint shrug, “just a thought,” though really it’s more of an excuse for you to maybe see Will again without the company of the others. You told yourself before you wouldn’t make any moves, but this wasn’t one, right? It was hardly forward. Just about the game. When your gaze darts to Frankie, however, his expression tells you he knows exactly what you might be up to, even if you don’t know it yourself.

“Sometime?” Will asks. “Why not tonight?”

“Because I should probably get going.”

“Do you need a ride?”

The question stuns you for a moment before you’re shaking your head. “No, it’s okay. You stay, you guys just got here.”

“You sure?”

“I’m…” not sure that you don’t want to take his offer, but not sure that you’d be able to handle any more time alone with Will, “sure.”

Will’s mouth twists in something you can’t discern. He’s got so many different emotions that play out across his face, some you’ve noticed over the times you’ve seen each other, though many you see for the first time when they play out – and sometimes, never again. This was new. After a pause, he finally nods. “Okay. A rematch next time, then.”

You’re quick to say your goodbyes to the boys, and once you get to Will, you find yourself fidgeting with your knuckles. “See you next time, then.” You echo his earlier sentiment, brushing a tendril behind your ear before you spin on a heel to make it to the door. One foot in front of the other – it’s the only thing you can focus on, else you might find your mind fluttering to thoughts of the blonde haired blue eyed captain.

And you don’t know why you do it but you steal a look over your shoulder and find those exact blue eyes locking with yours, Will resting against the bar’s patio, taking a swig of his drink. It was as if you felt his gaze on you, or maybe he felt the way you were thinking of him. Either way, you throw him a timid smile before you’re disappearing around the corner. Thoughts of Will Miller the entire walk home, the entire time you undress and slide into bed, the entire time your eyes are closed.

[crappymixtape]

endless summer

steve’s pool is always full during the indiana summers and he loves his friends, but he just wants you • *18+ only | (  2.8k, smut, fluff, friends to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader  )

E N D L E S S S U M M E R 🎶 i would die 4 u, art school girlfriend

“Hey, hey. None of that shit in my pool!” Steve was standing on the deck with a hand on his hip, arm waving about as he yelled at Dustin and Lucas who were dragging a half-empty pizza box closer to the edge of the pool.

“We’re hungry!” Dustin protested indignantly.

“Yeah, so hungry,” Lucas added, still dragging along the pizza box slowly as if Steve wouldn’t catch him.

“No, no, no. Get that outta here,” Steve was already around the other side of the pool and snatching the box away from Lucas’ grabby hands, tossing it up onto the patio table. “Children,” he shook his head at both younger boys.

Whatever, was mumbled back to Steve followed by a couple of hidden middle fingers, but the heat was enough to stall any real arguing and before long everyone slipped back into the cool water, lazily floating in the hot Indiana summer.

No one knew what day of the week it was, you only knew when you had to work next – not today – and time didn’t matter. All anyone wanted to do was spend time with each other, normal time, not running-away-from-flesh-eating-bats-time, and it felt perfect. You wished you could stay like this forever.

Stretched out on a lounger, you were the picture of summer wearing a tangerine bikini, a stolen pair of Steve’s aviators, and camped out next to a cooler full of beer and Coke. Whenever you felt your skin protesting against the sun you’d jump into the pool to cool off, but hurried right back to your chair after.

Dustin, Lucas, Mike and Will had spent most of the day trying to shove Max and El in the water, but were thwarted almost every time. I mean, c’mon, it’s El. Like she could’t sense it? Robin and Eddie found their little patch of shade under the only tree in the backyard and passed a joint back and forth until their eyes were glassy and heavy, lips permanently curved into lazy smiles. And Steve? Well. What Steve wanted to be doing and what he was actually doing were two very different things.

He couldn’t help his lifeguard instincts around the pool, sniping at the kids over all kinds of shit – out of love, obviously – but every single time he turned away it was to look at you.

You. Wearing his sunglasses. Your tangerine bikini hugging your curves just right, not leaving much to the imagination. The scent of your coconut sunscreen and citrus shampoo mixed with chlorine and Cherry Coke teasing him every time he walked by, it was almost painful.

Then, finally, the others hauled themselves out of the pool, tired from the heat and shoving each around and playing chicken and summer. You grinned watching as Mike and Lucas both sleepily settled their heads into El’s and Max’s laps atop their towels. Dustin and Will were off talking about Suzie and their next D&D campaign. And Robin and Eddie…well. They were there, but not there, and Steve had picked up the pool net to scoop out the few stray bits of crap the others had dragged into the water.

God. It was like he existed for summer. Like he was made for it. His skin all golden, kissed by the sun and dotted in freckles. Hair, just a touch lighter than it was in the winter, hanging across his dewy forehead. The muscles in his arms tensing and relaxing as he pushed and pulled the pool net through the water. Turquoise swim shorts dripping water, plip plip plip on the patio, clinging to his legs. Sunglasses perched on his head so that he couldn’t hide it if he snuck glances of you over there wearing his aviators.

You could feel his gaze wander up your long legs, your thighs, the soft curve of your hips, that damn tangerine top. And when you lifted a hand to take off your glasses, the grin you gave him was almost cruel. “Looking for something, Harrington?” you called across the patio.

Despite his tanned skin, the flush that rose in his cheeks could be seen from where you were sitting. “What?” fell out of his mouth, dumb in the summer sun, and he propped himself up against the pool skimmer, clearly caught. But then he recovered, just so very Steve. “Just admiring the view,” he gave you a grin of his own and it was your turn to blush.

Biting in your lower lip you put his aviators aside and smirked. “Nice day, hm?” you snarked, swinging your legs over the side of the lounger to stand.

“Oh, definitely a heat advisory in effect,” Steve teased back, discarding the skimmer on the patio at his feet, finally unable to keep himself away from you any longer.

Walking with a purpose he closed the gap between the two of you and took your face in his hands and pressed a heady kiss to your mouth, catching your lower lip between his. You tasted like popsicles and Cherry Coke.

“What was that for?” you murmured against his lips, his hands still holding onto your cheeks as your hands wandered up to rest on his chest.

“For not eating pizza in the pool,” he grinned against you as he went in for another kiss and then leaned in close, his lips to your ear, “I forgot something inside.”

It was so hot, the sun beating down on both of you, but you shivered at his words as goosebumps trailed along your neck. Laughing you tilted your head so that you could meet his gaze and when your eyes met your grin softened and fell. Steve’s eyes. Deep pools of caramel swimming with tiny flecks of hazel and gold. Long brown lashes sweeping his cheeks. Steve. He only had eyes for you.

“I’ll come with you,” your voice was barely above a whisper as you felt a heat rising in your core that had absolutely nothing to do with the hot Indiana sun, and without hesitation his hand was tangling with yours, pulling you through the slider door and up the stairs.

Steve kicked the door shut as you both tumbled into his room and he caught your lips in another kiss before pressing more down your jaw, your neck, to the little hollow behind your ear.

It was hot, the air in his room upstairs was warm and thick and his hands were everywhere all at once. Wandering across the small of your back, trailing the length of your arms, tugging your hips into his. It all made you dizzy, but you kept up.

Wrapping your hands around the back of his neck, you spun him around and pushed him down onto his bed. His eyes went wide for a split second, surprised at the show of confidence, but he came back down from it and grinned up at you. “So damn pretty,” he murmured and you knew he meant it.

“I could say the same to you,” you purred before diving down against him, your bodies finally pressing together, skin meeting skin around your bikini and his trunks. It felt electric. You’d both wanted nothing more after watching each other in the heat, dripping with the glittering turquoise of the pool, longing to look, to touch, to feel.

A groan escaped him as you trailed kisses along his shoulder and up against his stubbled jaw before settling your mouth on his, lightly pulling on his lower lip.

“Been wanting to do this all day,” he mumbled, fingers fumbling with the tie of your top, cinched snug against your body. As it came undone it fell down onto his chest and he stopped short, hands holding onto your waist for dear life. He looked at you like you were the only thing that existed in that moment. You were the only thing that existed in that moment. “Damn,” it was almost reverent, in awe of you. Every curve, every dip, the very softness of you.

Giving him a small smile you leaned down, brushing your lips against his ear, and simply whispered his name. Pulling back the look you gave him shattered any kind of control he’d been grasping onto and he loosed a heavy breath.

In one fell swoop Steve lifted you off of him easily, tossing you down on the bed before bringing his needy mouth to your sun kissed skin again, body meeting yours. You could feel him against you, could feel much he wanted you, and the heat pooling between your legs told you you wanted him just as much.

Steve bit your shoulder gently and he smirked when you sucked in a gasp. “Shit,” you hissed, half laughing half moaning at the kisses he started trailing down your chest and along the soft curve of your breasts.

His face moved down your body, mouth touching every bit of you he could, and then he paused and flicked his eyes up to look at you. “What?” his tongue ran along his lower lip as he grinned, knowing full well what he was doing to you.

Brow furrowing you propped yourself up on your elbows and opened your mouth to reply, but it promptly clamped shut when he slipped his mouth over your nipple, eliciting another moan from your lips. Your head fell back against the sheets as your hands moved to tangle in his hair. “Want you,” was all you could manage, your lips parted as your breath hitched in your throat.

“I know,” Steve’s voice was low, rough, and the grin he’d given you was long gone, pupils blown wide – fuck, he wanted you too. He pushed himself up for only as long as it took to yank his trunks off, his fingers deftly untying your bikini bottoms before tugging them out from under your ass and throwing them unceremoniously to the floor.

Standing at the edge of the bed he stopped and took in the vision you were, all soft curves and tan lines and freckles. Coconut sunscreen and cherry red lips. He leaned forward and ran his hands up your calves, hooking his palms behind your knees, and pulled you to the edge of the bed as he knelt down. Steve couldn’t take his eyes away from yours even as his hands moved to spread your legs apart, thumbs pressing into your thighs.

His fingers swept inward, slipping against the slick between your legs and you saw his eyes flutter closed for a second as he touched you, felt you, jaw clenching as he groaned, “So wet baby, is that for me?”

“Mhmm,” your mumbled yes was tangled up with another moan as he slipped first one finger then two inside of you, his thumb taking up a slow, languid pace as it traced circles over your clit. Steve was so good to you. Took care of you. You came first, always.

He easily found a rhythm as his fingers slipped in and out, in and out, in and out. It was wrecking you and as he picked up the pace your whimpers grew to moans despite biting down on your bottom lip. “You’re so good, baby,” he pressed kisses to your inner thigh, “Want you to come for me.”

Your heart was fluttering in your chest, like a hummingbird caught in your ribcage, frantic and seeking release. One hand still tangled in his hair, the other desperately clinging onto a fistful of sheets as you felt yourself racing closer to the edge. He made you feel so good, his fingers were so good, but he was too far away. You wanted him on you, crushing into you, fucking you.

“Steve,” breathless you begged, “Need you.” And he slowed, knowing exactly what you wanted. What you needed.

“Yeah, okay baby,” he reassured you, climbing over the top of you as he fumbled in his nightstand drawer and grabbed a condom, tearing the foil between his teeth and thumb. Kneeling with a leg on either side of your hips he slid it over his length, pumping his hand up and down a few times before fitting himself between your legs. You were so wet, sweet like honey, and his heart was pounding in his chest when he looked up into your eyes.

He slowly eased himself into you, feeling how tight you were on him, and he let out a groan. “Jesus Christ,” his eyes squeezed shut as he bottomed out, you felt so fucking good, but he quickly opened them again to look down at you. “Okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you felt your body slowly relax as you adjusted to the way he filled you, letting out a sigh, the most perfect melody to his ears, “M’okay.”

ALifting a hand to gently brush your hair away from your dewy forehead he took you in. “So pretty,” he whispered, "So damn beautiful." And then started rocking into you, your hips rising to meet him with each thrust. Slow at first, his forehead falling down to meet yours, one hand holding him over you as the other tangled your fingers with his.

“Oh shit,” Steve hissed as he picked up the pace, both of you panting with the effort as you pushed each other closer and closer to your breaking point. You looked up at him as he fucked into you, his pretty lips parted as he sucked in breaths, moving faster and faster chasing his high.

Letting your hand go he moved his fingers back down to your clit and moved them in slick, heavy circles and the moan you loosed then almost shattered him. “Oh–oh god, Steve, I’m gon-gonna come,” you were gasping for air, as the movements of his fingers grew messy and faster, wanting you to find release before he did, your name leaving his lips over and over like a prayer. And then something in you snapped and your hips bucked heavy against his, your hand flying up to hold onto his bicep like a lifeline as each wave of your climax washed over you.

“Fuck, me too, so close,” Steve’s face almost looked pained as his movements grew hurried and uneven, and then finally his rhythm broke too and his lips parted as his breath hitched in his throat. He finished fast as you clenched around him, guiding him up and over the edge and slowly he rocked his hips to a stand still, both of you messy and sweaty and wrecked.

Letting his head fall forward Steve buried his face in you, pressing light kisses to your collarbone, the crook of your neck, your cheek. He smirked, exhaustion creeping over both of you, and brought his lips to yours, “It’s that damn bikini.”

Laughing you slowly moved to cup his face in your hands and shook your head. “Mental note to wear it more often,” your own little grin tugged up at the corners of you lips as you pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Steve laughed, but it was cut short as he eased out of you and collapsed onto the bed next to you, the fan on the ceiling pushing the warm, thick, summer air around his room. Resting your head on his chest as he settled, you listened to his heartbeat thud, thud, thud against your ear, your breathing slowly evening out along with his.

He ran his fingers through your hair idly, humming low and content, and kissed the top of your head. “So–” he started, voice tired and gravely, but happy, “I…I wanted to tell you that…uh, what I mean is…shit.”

“What is it?” propping yourself up against his chest you looked at him, concern knitting your brow together.

He caught the worry in your eyes and quickly shook his head, his hand finding yours and turning it over to press a kiss to your palm. “No, no nothing bad!” he reassured you quickly, his cheeks flushing pink. “I just,” he sighed, an uncharacteristically nervous laugh escaping him, “I just wanted to tell you I love yo–”

“Steve!”

“It wasn’t my fault–”

“Mike told me to–”

“I did not!”

Voices carried up through the open window cutting Steve off and he jammed his tongue into his cheek. Someone was gonna get it.

“Oh my god, are you kidding me?” irritation gave Steve a second wind and he crossed the room so fast you couldn’t help laughing as you watched his bare ass stop at the window sill. “I’m a little busy here!” he yelled down at the boys, but then you saw his expression change. “Wait, who the hell got pizza in the pool??”

Quiet. Then a barrage of voices.

“Dustin was hungry–”

“I told him it wasn’t allowed, Steve–”

“You know how he is!”

“They’re all lying, Steve!”

Putting both hands over his face he groaned, loud and exaggerated, before letting them drop to his sides. He thought for a moment, then decided he didn’t care and threw his hands up in defeat.

“You know what? You figure it out,” he shouted back down at them and then pulled the sheer curtains shut before coming back to bed.

Laughing he tossed the sheet over both of you, pulling you in close, smiling against your skin, his hands holding you soft and gentle and then he finally whispered against your ear what it was he was trying to tell you all that time.

I love you.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist

[insxghtt]

the moon — aemond targaryen x reader

After pushing you away, Aemond tries to apologize. He hoped the full moon could help him.

warnings: +18 only, some spicy shit but no actual smut, angst but also fluff, mentions of violence but no actual violence, aemond being sweet as fuck.

this was based on this request. english is not my first language so i’m sorry if you find any mistakes. hope you enjoy!

You were aware that marriage was about politics, and not about love. You’ve always known that. But somewhere inside of you still wished to believe that someone like Aemond would make it different.

Before the marriage, you had only seen him three times. Three times you would talk about everything and anything. Three times you came home wondering if he had liked you the same way as you had liked him.

At eighteen, people had been talking about how you should’ve been already married, but you were used to being the black sheep of the family. You were the middle sister. Your older sister had been married for a while, giving your parents a great alliance. Your younger brother was already betrothed to a beautiful lady from the north.

But you? You were the one your parents always forgot to mention. And when you met Aemond, you felt like he understood this better than anyone. You two were friends. Not really close friends, but friends. You’ve heard people talk about how cruel he could be, but it was hard to believe when he was so kind to you.

That is why you were happy when your parents seemed to remember that you existed and suggested to the King that you were betrothed to Aemond. He was polite, he was beautiful and he was respectful.

But the marriage was weird. He didn’t look at you all day. Maybe he was shy, you thought. The night came and he took you to his chambers. You were sweating cold, nervous about what should happen next. People said it hurts. Would it bleed? Was he going to be delicate? Would he like it? Would he like you?

He sat on the edge of the bed looking down while you stood in front of him. You didn’t know what to say. It was the first time you were alone with him in a few days and it was also the first time that the silence between you two was uncomfortable.

“Will you kiss me?”, you asked after a few minutes.

He looked at you, surprised by the question. “We do not have to do this tonight if you’re uncomfortable...”

“Do you wish to bed me?”, you interrupted.

His pupil was dilated and it made it look like his eyes were darker than usual. Someone once told you that when a person looks at something they desire, their pupils dilate. Maybe that meant something, you thought.

He stood up, stepped closer to you and touched your cheek. You wished to close your eyes to enjoy it, but you didn’t. You continued to look at him. His lips, his eye, his scar, every inch of his face seemed to be carved by the gods themselves.

He ran his other hand through your hair until it stopped on your shoulder exposed by the beautiful gown you were wearing and sighed. “I believe only a foolish man could ever say no to your question.”

It was a compliment, wasn’t it? It seemed so. Then why wasn’t he kissing you?

Aemond walked around you and stopped behind you, his delicate touch never leaving your shoulder. You didn’t dare to move, enjoying every moment of it.

It felt like you were in heaven when his lips touched your neck on a delicate kiss. He slowly began to release the braids on your hair one by one. And when you realized, he was untying the laces of your dress. You closed your eyes and hoped that he continued to be that calm all night. You’ve heard stories about men who did not care to be soft.

But Aemond was not like that. He could hurt many people on battles, but not his lady. He swore to protect you and he would.

When your hair was finally free from the braids, and your dress slipped down your body, you turned to him. He stared at your body, your lips and then your eyes. Part of you wanted to get dressed again and run away, but the other one wanted him to look at you.

You had to kiss him. You needed him.

So, you took your hands to his neck and brought your lips together. He was fast to return your touch and held your waist tightly. Not even on your wildest dreams you imagined that it would feel so magical. His tongue was warm like the blood of the dragon and his lips were soft like they were made for kissing yours. His fingers were pressed against your waist so hard that for the first time, you wished them to touch you somewhere else.

Without separating your lips, you took a few steps back, guiding him to the bed behind you, and before you fell on the bed, he grabbed your legs. You wrapped them around his body and let him pick you up. He sat on the bed with you on his lap.

It was perfect. His hands running over your body, his lips leaving kisses on your chin and neck. It was too good and you wanted more. And that was your mistake. To think that he would let you see him fully just like you let him see you.

You reached for his eyepatch, but before you could even touch it, he held your wrist. His touch was not kind this time. It was firm and brute. You opened your eyes and looked at him surprised. He was looking at you, but not like before. His pupil was no longer dilated, the blue and cold eye stared at you like you were a stranger.

“Did I do something wrong?”, you asked.

But Aemond did not answer. He pushed you away and you sat next to him with a confused look. He stood up and looked at you. You wondered if he was mad at you. It looked like he was, but you did not understand why.

Maybe he just didn’t like you. Your eyes filled with tears just thinking of it.

And Aemond felt like a monster. You were right there, naked on a bed, looking at him with tears on your eyes. He tried to say something, but the words were suddenly gone.

So, he just turned away and left. You hugged your legs and watched as he closed the door behind him, feeling used and discarded. That night, that was meant to be shared with your husband, became just another sad story in your life.

The next day, it took you a lot of courage to get out of bed. He did not come back. Maybe he had been to a brothel, you thought, to find a woman of his taste. It was humiliating. Your parents would be ashamed of you if they knew that you couldn’t please your husband not even for one night.

And what hurt you the most was that you liked him. You liked his touch and his kisses. You wanted him.

The maids did not question when you asked for your meals to be delivered on your chamber, but you saw the confused look on their faces. It didn’t matter, you just wanted to be alone. What if Aemond told someone? What if he talked about you?

The day passed so slowly it felt like torture to you. You cried, a lot. And every tear made you feel more like a fool for actually thinking that Aemond would be so different from any other man. Slowly, your sadness turned to anger.

How could he? You would’ve never done this to him. It was not your fault if you were not the girl of his dreams.

But that was what men did. Men were stupid and mean. Aemond was stupid and mean too. At least, that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of.

When the night came, you felt more comfortable to finally leave your chamber. You needed to stretch your legs and the four walls of that room were starting to annoy you.

The guard outside your door had left for a while. Maybe to go eat something. Maybe to drink some water.

“Or maybe to go look for a whore, like all men do”, you mumbled low to yourself.

You walked through the halls of the castle until you got to the garden. The Red Keep was not your favorite place, definitely not your home after last night, but it had a beautiful garden. There was no one but you there, so you were not ashamed to sit on the grass to look at the stars. The moon was full, which made the night clearer than the usual.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”, someone behind you said.

You knew damn well who that voice belonged to. And it was definitely the last person you wanted to deal with right now.

You stood up, ready to leave if you had to. “Go away, Aemond.”

You sounded hurt, he noticed. Of course, who wouldn’t be? He felt like an idiot.

“Usually, wives refer to their husbands in a more... loving way”, he said.

“Yes, because everything about our marriage is very loving, isn’t it?”

He looked up at the moon and took a step forward to be closer to you. You did not move away, but crossed your arms and stared at him with anger. “Some people believe that the full moon fulfills wishes, my dear wife.”

“People believe all sorts of nonsense”, you rolled your eyes and he looked at you.

“I think it’s true”, he said and you froze for a minute. “It was a night of a full moon when I claimed Vhagar.”

Aemond had his hands behind his back and his posture made him appear so beautiful it made you angry. How dared he? He left you alone, naked, crying, and now he was there, talking about the moon as if nothing had happened.

“It’s late”, you said, trying to escape that situation. “I should go rest now and so should you, my prince.”

“Wait.”

From his voice, if you didn't know better, you'd think Aemond was desperate.

“I hope the full moon really does fulfill wishes”, he whispered. He took his hand to his eyepatch, removing it from his face. It took him a while to look at you again. It was the first time you saw him like that. “Because I wish you do not fear me as I am.”

The light of the moon on the sapphire that replaced his lost eye made it shine in the most unique way. Suddenly, it all made sense. He was ashamed of himself. And all those hours trying to create some kind of hatred towards him were wasted.

“How could I fear you?”, once again, your eyes were filled with tears. Only this time, they were not from shame or disappointment. “How could I ever...”, your voice failed.

You got close to him and raised your hand to touch his face. This time, you waited for him to nod, allowing you to touch him. He closed his eye when he felt your fingers running over his cheek, hoping that you wouldn’t be disgusted like his own family was. Everyone, except for his mother, avoided looking at him when he was not covering his scar.

“Does it hurt?”, you asked and he took the courage to look at you again.

You did not seem scared, or disgusted.

“Sometimes.”

Every time, he wished to say. The pain was constant, and some days were worse than others. But he got used to it, just like he got used to the looks they gave him and to the rumors of how cruel he was.

Aemond was never cruel. Sometimes he was cold, yes, because people haven’t been kind to him. But he had seen cruelty before and that was not him.

“It is beautiful”, you whispered.

“It is not.”

“Shut up, husband”, you held his face. He smiled a bit. “If you ever leave me like that again I will burn all of your clothes and throw them out the window.”

He chuckled and wrapped you in his arms. You buried your face in his neck and snuggled into his embrace.

“I thought you didn’t like me”, your voice was muffled and he felt a tickle on his neck from your breathing. “Thought you went to a brothel to find a prettier woman for you.”

“I did not go to a brothel, but I was with a lady”, he said and you tried to get out of his embrace, but he held you tighter.

“You bastard!”, you complained, your voice still muffled because of the hug.

“Do not worry, the lady in question was Vhagar”, he chuckled and you snorted, relaxing again on his arms. “And I'm afraid it would be impossible for me to ever find a woman who is prettier than you.”

You raised your head to look at him again. He touched you lips with his thumb, remembering how good they felt last night.

“You are the only woman I ever wanted”, he whispered.