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padfootagain · 3 months

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Only an Almost (XX)

Chapter 20: Toothaches

Hi! Here is the very last chapter of this series!

Thank you all for reading, and for your reactions to this fic. I won’t lie, I’m very emotional as I say goodbye to this fic. I’ve worked on it for several months, it feels strange to let these two idiots go and live their happy lives now.

The next series I’ll post is my professor!AU, so stay tuned ;)

I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!

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Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 2054

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

Two years later

You placed back the panel into the hive; gently, delicately, being careful not to harm any insect that might have gotten in the way.

The buzzing sounds around you were loud, but you were used to them by now. Accompanying Andrew once a week to take care of his bees, you had grown more confident around his tiny friends. You were a real pro now. A reassuring thought for him, now that he was about to tour again. He could place their safety in your loving hands.

“Alright, that was the last one,” Andrew spoke, a happy smile on his lips.

“Good job, ladies,” you complimented the bees, making Andrew chuckle fondly at you.

“Good job indeed. And to you, too. Good job, love.”

“Thanks! I am getting good at this!”

Andrew closed the hive, and you both made your way back to your house.

Your house. Andrew still struggled to wrap his mind around the idea that you were sharing a home now, but you did. Even after ten months, he still needed to pinch himself sometimes to believe it.

He helped you out of your beekeeping clothes, and you did the same for him. Teamwork at its finest to repeat movements you were both used to by now.

“You won’t be nervous to take care of the bees alone?” Andrew asked you, voice soft and tender as he brushed a strand of your hair out of your face.

“No, don’t worry! Besides, if I need help, I’ll just call the guys at the brewery!”

“Right. Don’t hesitate to call them if you need help.”

“Don’t worry, baby… I’ll be just fine.”

He nodded, his heart doing its usual little jump at the sound of the pet name. He bent down to drop a peck on the top of your head.

“Let’s eat some of this delicious honey our tiny workers have been making!” he offered, and you enthusiastically nodded, following him through the house and inside the kitchen.

The house had changed quite a bit since you had moved in. Asides from accommodating your belongings, it had gained a few plants, some decorating items, a little bit of your warmth that mingled with his own.

Outside the sun was shining brightly, spreading its beams through the kitchen, while Andrew was cutting some fruits and you were making coffee. You kissed his lips to steal a piece of apple, making him laugh at the mischief shining in your eyes.

“Thief,” he mumbled, still a little stunned after feeling your lips on his.

You merely giggled in response, the sound as sweet as the honey he was adding to the two bowls of fresh fruits.

“I love you too, baby,” you cooed, wrapping your arms around his waist to pull him closer, mischief written all over your features.

“You’re annoying.”

“Don’t I know that already.”

“Unbelievable, that’s what you are…”

“Hmm… Don’t I know that too…”

Slowly, Andrew bent closer and closer to your lips. A fall he longed for, a dive he dreamt about still.

“Insufferable…” he mumbled against your lips, before kissing you properly, hands rising to hold your face in place, to let his fingers disappear into your hair and his thumbs spray across your cheeks.

You tasted so sweet; like the apple you had stolen, like love turned into a flavour.

“Christ… I love you so fucking much,” he whispered as he rested his forehead against yours.

He brushed his knuckles across your cheekbone, gesture infinitely sweet, desperately tender.

You ran your fingers through his hair, and he couldn’t help but lean into your touch.

“I love you too, Andy,” you whispered, your breath fanning over his face. “I love you more than anything.”

He bent lower to wrap you in his embrace, to bury his face into your neck. He inhaled deeply your perfume, until the scent was carved into his lungs. He closed his eyes, shivered as your hand slowly moved from his hair to his chest, to rest right upon his heart.

“I’m going to miss you,” he whispered into your skin.

He listened to the little gasp you let out, he wasn’t certain whether it was because of his breath across your neck or the meaning of his words.

“I’ll miss you too. God… it feels like I miss you already.”

You pulled away, after granting him another minute of the intimate embrace. You turned to the table, grabbed a bowl and a spoon, took a bite. You hummed in satisfaction.

“Our honey really is the best in the world,” you nodded, making him laugh.

“Our honey? These are my hives. That my family gifted to me…”

“We both take care of the bees! It gives me some rights on them!”

“Some rights?”

“I get 51% of the honey.”

“So… the majority of it. Even if those are my hives…”

“Because you love me.”

“Oh, I see,” he couldn’t refrain a loud laugh.

“I’m sleeping with you for two reasons: the honey, and Raine.”

“I knew it. I knew you were using me for something.”

“Of course, I’m heartless.”

“Can’t blame you though… the honey is delicious,” he added a hum of approval, as if to prove his point, while he took another bite of grapes, apples and honey.

You finished eating in silence. It was comfortable, comforting even. Warm and happy and full of love. You sat down after a couple of minutes, and your feet were touching under the table, a mingling of limbs just to make sure that you were always touching.

It was simple, domestic. Andrew caught himself staring at you, at the way the sun embraced your features and got caught in your eyelashes, pearling on their curve.

There was a deep, warm feeling bubbling in his chest, the kind he had felt before, for other women. But never to this extent, never reaching this absolute tenderness that was coursing through his veins as he looked at you. You, sharing a simple snack with him, in his kitchen. You weren’t leaving, you were home. You were his home and he was yours.

As he stared at you nipping on a grape, he was more content with his life than he had ever been.

You started humming, the melody of a song you had heard on the radio that morning, he couldn’t remember the title nor the lyrics. Still, he hummed along, and the sound seemed to make you grin.

“On a scale of ‘being happy to finally be rid of me’ to ‘on the verge of total panic’… how are you feeling about me leaving for tour tomorrow?” Andrew asked softly, his voice almost a whisper, afraid to break the warmth of the moment you were sharing together.

You blinked at him, put down your spoon in your bowl, and reached out across the table for his hand. He held it without a second thought, brushing his thumb across your knuckles.

“I’d say… a strong 5. ‘Sad that you’re leaving, but certain that we’ll make it work’.”

You offered him a reassuring smile, and he let out a long exhale.

“Are you angry against me for leaving?” he asked, but you were quick to shake your head.

“Of course not… that’s your job. And you were meant to be a musician, there is no doubt about it. I’m glad you’re doing what you love… I’ll just miss you.”

“You’ll wait for me, right?” he asked, voice quiet and vulnerable. He brushed his hair away from his face in a hurried and nervous gesture.

But you were calm, perfectly confident and serene as you answered.

“Of course. There is no need to ask that question. We’ve talked about this, we have a plan. We’ll be fine.”

The plan…

A call every day, no matter the time difference. A flight to join him in four weeks, a flight to join you again in nine. Texts whenever you woke up and before going to sleep. Updates on your books. No secrets, no lies, no attempts to hide if something didn’t feel right. And then it would start all over again after his two-weeks break, in eleven weeks. And again, and again, an unbreakable cycle for the foreseeable future. It was alright. Andrew knew he would still love you the same, even from the other side of the globe. But that was the breaking point for all his previous relationships, the distance and the missing and the loneliness that came with him.

And yet, when you tightened your hold on his hand and he focused on your eyes again, there was no trace of hesitation or doubt whatsoever there.

“You didn’t want to date me because of this, at the beginning…” he went on, but you shrugged.

“It was two years ago. I was afraid. I’m not scared anymore.”

“Really?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

“No… I’m happy with you. I love you. I know we can do this. I have no doubt about us.”

His lips parted in a somehow shocked smile, and he had to blink to process your words.

“I have no doubt about my love for you either,” Andrew answered. “You’re right, I shouldn’t worry so much.”

You looked down at the bowl before you, it was almost empty already.

“I will burn your collection of Heaney’s books if you miss more than three phone calls, you are warned,” you joked, making him laugh again.

“How cruel! Leave Seamus out of it! He did nothing to you!”

“I don’t have a choice, I know you love him more than me!”

You were laughing, clearly joking, and yet Andrew’s expression softened.

“Now, that would be impossible. I couldn’t love anyone or anything more than I love you.”

You stared at him with an emotional smile on your lips, knowing that he was being serious, that he truly meant it… and he did. The songs he had written for you were proof. He hoped that the things he did for you every day were enough to demonstrate his feelings too.

He was surprised when you stood up, when you circled the table to stand by his side, waiting until he had pushed his chair so you could straddle his laps. You held him tightly against you, arms around his neck and face buried in his hair. He held you with the same affection, the same desperate need to show you how much he loved you.

“You don’t have to worry, Andy. I’ll wait for you,” you whispered in his ear, making his heart stumble and quicken at the same time, his breath catching in his throat. “You’re the love of my life. I want to spend all the time I have left with you.”

Andrew blinked, tightened his hold on you, tried to take in your words and their meaning and what it meant to have you confessing such feelings for him.

You pulled away as he started laughing, still sitting on his laps but frowning at his reaction.

When he looked at you, he wasn’t hiding the adoration he felt for you.

“And I was afraid I was being too cheesy…” he chuckled, making you roll your eyes.

“Eejit…” you mumbled, a fond smile on your lips still.

“I thought I was the one breaking the crazy love confessions quota in this relationship…”

“Don’t make me regret saying it!” you joked, moving closer again.

He brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, putting all of his love in his gaze and his gesture.

“I feel the same, you know?” he grew more serious again. “You’re the one for me. It was always you, my love.”

You smiled just like he did, a mirror of emotions and love and something close to relief. You rested your forehead against his, closed your eyes.

Andrew thought about the break he would have in nine weeks, about coming home to you. He thought about the next leg of touring, and the break that would follow. And he thought about coming home to you with a ring in his suitcase, and he thought about you in a white dress, about waking up with you every day, going to sleep with your hand in his every night…

When he kissed your lips again, they tasted sweet, like the future they promised.

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #fanfiction #fanfic #hozier fanfiction #hozier fanfic #writing #hozier series #series

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justagalwhowrites · 5 months

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Halcyon - Ch. 10: People Might Think You Care About Me

You and Joel spend the holidays together. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 9, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Again, I'm here begging HBO to give me something to use for young Joel PLZ

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Mention of dieting and diet culture. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 5.8K

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“I can’t believe my kid is going to like you better than me,” Joel said, sitting in the middle of the living room floor with a roll of wrapping paper spread out in front of him. “Scissors.”

You handed them over before grabbing the tape, putting a piece on the tip of your finger before folding the paper around the box - a friendship bracelet kit - that you were wrapping for Sarah.

“I mean, first of all, your kid already likes me more than she likes you,” you teased, turning the box to do the other side. “She has good taste…”

“You’re the worst.”

“Second,” you said, ignoring him. “It is a joint gift, you’re getting tons of cool dad points out of this.”

“She’s gonna know it was your idea,” he said, adjusting the gift he was wrapping. “Hell, she’s gonna know that only one of us could have gotten tickets and it ain’t me.”

As if on cue, Swiftie - Sarah’s kitten - pounced on the box Joel was wrapping.

“Yeah, this one knows, too,” he said, scooping her up with one large hand and setting her down. “I miss when she wanted Barbies. Shit was easier.”

You laughed.

“Be happy she’s excited about anything enough that she’s going to freak out over Taylor Swift tickets,” you said. “She’s about to be a disaffected teenager, enjoy it while it lasts.”

“Yeah, don’t remind me,” he muttered, “She’s stubborn enough as it is.”

“You’re in for it, Miller,” you said as your cat, Puck, climbed on your lap. You reached around him to finish taping the package you were wrapping. “She’s going to give you so much shit…”

“What if she’s just like you, hm?” Joel teased. “Gonna have a nerd for a kid…”

“Hey, I was a nerd who snuck out at night to go get drunk with the boneheaded jock,” you teased back. “You really want her to be just like me?”

“Jesus, you’re right,” Joel shook his head, finishing wrapping his present. “I’ll have to keep her far away from anyone like me for the sake of us all.”

You snorted and finished wrapping your own gift before scooping Puck into your arms, nuzzling into his fur and giving him a kiss on the head before settling with your back against your couch as you looked at the lights on the tree.

It was Christmas Eve, the first one in years you were spending without Gale and you’d never been more thankful for Joel.

Last year, you and Gale were separated but you’d felt so alone that you’d texted him the afternoon of Christmas Eve and spent most of the night and next day in bed. You’d tricked yourself then, pretended there was a chance in hell of the two of you getting back together and things going back to the way they used to be.

That hadn’t happened. You’d spent New Year’s Eve in bed, too. Except that time, you were alone.

You’d been afraid that was going to happen for you this holiday season, too. You asked Anna what she had planned for Christmas, fully expecting her to want to spend the day together. She had other things in mind.

“Honestly, ever since Mom died?” She’d shrugged. “I love using it as a day to just chill. Binge watch TV I’ve been meaning to catch up on, eat a pile of Chinese food, maybe take a bath… It’s pretty boring but I love it. And since I’ve got this little bundle on the way, I’m extra looking forward to it this year.”

“Oh,” you forced a smile, trying to hide your disappointment. “No, that sounds great.”

“Oh God,” she clamped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide for a moment. “Did you want to do something? I’m so sorry, I should have…”

“”No,” you waved her off quickly. “No, you’re good! I don’t want to disrupt your plans…”

“You can join if you want!” She said. “I mean, for everything but the bath part, that might be a little much now that we’re not kids anymore.”

“No,” you said again. “You have fun! Tradition is tradition and you need the break. Maybe I’ll do the same.”

You should have known that she would have her own way of doing things. You’d all but abandoned her during your marriage, sending perfunctory text messages and holiday cards and flying her up for a long weekend every year or so but, otherwise, you went weeks without talking. Of course she had Christmas plans that didn’t involve you. Why would she have any that did?

Joel, however, had done what he’d always done since you’d moved back to Texas: Made room for you in his life.

“Know you and Anna probably already got plans but,” he’d shrugged two weeks earlier. “If you don’t… want to spend Christmas with me n’Sarah? Tommy, too, assuming he doesn’t con his way into dinner at some girl’s house. S’OK if you don’t, just figured… I dunno…”

You’d smiled, bigger than you’d really meant to.

“You want me to spend Christmas with you?”

“I want you to spend most days with me,” he shrugged. “But you know, we gotta go out in the world and make money and shit. Anyway, Christmas. You in? Could just move in until the New Year if you really wanted…”

The last part wasn’t going to work with your obligation to go try to write a book once Christmas was through. But you had spent the last two nights at Joel’s, bringing Puck over to play with Sarah and Swiftie as the three of you watched Christmas movies and binged cookies. No papers to grade, no lawyers calling because your attorneys’ offices were closed, no pressure because you already had time set aside to write. You could really relax for the first time in what felt like an eternity and relaxing with Joel and Sarah was quickly becoming your favorite thing in the entire world.

But all that relaxing had meant there was a small pile of presents that weren’t wrapped that needed to make it under the tree. It was Christmas Eve and time had run out.

“You need to stop procrastinating,” you said, getting your egg nog that was now mostly liquor off the coffee table and taking a sip. “Can’t get away with that shit when you’re a business owner.”

“Just watch me,” he teased. “Besides, you’re one to talk, you made any progress on that book?”

“That’s what next week is for,” you said, giving the cat a kiss just as he started to get restless in your arms. You set him down. “Fingers crossed having nothing else to do will make me churn out the words.”

“Wild to me that you make money from what’s in your head,” Joel came and sat next to you. “Not that I think you shouldn’t, if anyone should it’s you. Just that anyone does at all is insane.”

“Well, I may not make money off it for long if I can’t write anything else,” you sighed. “Know what? Let’s not talk about next week. I want to live in this moment - the one where we don’t have any worries and the presents are all under the tree and Sarah is passed out - for a while longer yet.”

Joel hummed in agreement and you leaned your head on his shoulder, sighing contentedly. You could smell his skin and cologne and there was still a little bacon scent from when he’d made breakfast for the three of you that morning.

“Think she’ll have a good Christmas?” Joel asked quietly, the two of you watching the lights twinkle on his tree.

“Hell yeah,” you smiled a little. “You really are an amazing Dad, Joel.”

He scoffed.

“I’m serious,” you peered up at him. “You’re lucky to have Sarah but she’s lucky as hell to have you, too. She’s going to love it.”

“Speaking of parents… anything new in the Anna situation?” Joel asked cautiously.

“It’s a girl,” you sighed. “But she seems to be keeping up with everything, thank God. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe this is the kick in the ass she’s been needing…”

“Was for me,” Joel shrugged, making your head rise with his shoulder.

You sighed again.

“Just seems like an awful lot to put on a kid,” you said. “And you might have been young and dumb but you didn’t have the shit Anna’s got on her plate. It’s a bit of a different story with her.”

“She might surprise you. But either way, we’ll make up a room for the little sucker here,” Joel said. “Just to be safe.”

“Regardless, that’s next year Goldie and Joel’s problem,” you said. “And thank fuck for that.”

“Yeah, fuck those two,” you could hear the smile on Joel’s voice. “Let’s put the wrapping paper away and go to bed, something about Santa and knowing when you’re sleeping and all that.”

You cleaned up the living room and tried not to pay attention to the nighttime routine you’d fallen into with Joel in the few days you’d been staying with him. You had your own sink in Joel’s bathroom, one that had your hair products and face wash lined up alongside it. You had your own side of the bed with your own nightstand where the book you’d been reading the last few days was nearing its end and waiting for you. If you thought about it too much, you’d miss it when it was gone. If you thought about it too much, it might seem like something you could keep.

Joel made his customary space at his side and you nestled into him, your head on his chest where you could hear his heart beat. His fingers trailed up and down your arm.

“There are upsides to a kid, you know,” he said quietly. “Christmas morning is one of ‘em. Just wait.”

You smiled a little.

“Stop keeping me awake and we won’t have to wait long,” you said.

Joel snorted.

“Yeah yeah. Night Goldie.”

“Night Joel.”

Sarah came careening into Joel’s room before 7 a.m., slamming into the bed so hard that it made your teeth rattle.

“Dad! Aunt Goldie!” She shook you both. “Wake up, it’s Christmas!”

“Yeah, alright,” Joel groaned, taking his warm arm from its place around your shoulders. You groaned, too. “You stay here with Goldie while I go put the coffee pot on and get set up to record you…”

Sarah groaned.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he said. “Sit tight, five minutes.”

You rolled onto your back and blinked the sleep from your eyes, Sarah bouncing impatiently on the bed. You lifted your head enough to look at her, curls sticking every which way, and you dropped back down onto the pillow with a groan.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, kid,” you said.

“Yeah, that’s what my dad says,” she said cheerfully and you could picture her smile as she did.

“Alright, come on out,” Joel called from the living room. Sarah rocketed off the bed and you laughed as you got up yourself, trailing behind her and trying not to yawn.

“Oh cool!” Sarah flopped down beside her stocking and started going through it as you got to the living room. Joel was sitting on the couch, his phone set up on a tripod in the corner and pointed at the tree. “These are those face mask things I said I wanted! And the headbands for soccer!”

“I do pay attention now and then, baby girl,” Joel said, rubbing his eyes.

“Don’t you mean Santa pays attention?” You asked, sitting next to him on the couch. Joel handed you a cup of coffee, made exactly how you liked it.

“I know Santa’s not real, Aunt Goldie,” Sarah rolled her eyes and gave you a look. “I’m 11, not a kid.”

Joel snorted.

“Sorry,” you said. “My mistake.”

“Don’t spoil Santa for Goldie,” Joel said before reaching down on the ground next to him. “Speaking of which…”

He handed you a fat stocking and you frowned a little as you took it.

“You made me a stocking?” You asked, tears pinching at your throat. “No one’s made me a stocking since I was in high school…”

“Then you’re real overdue,” he smiled a little and went back to watching Sarah as she unwrapped a chocolate Santa and stuffed the entire thing in her mouth. “Alright, let’s not eat all the candy in one sitting…”

“But it’s Christmas!” She said, voice muffled around the chocolate.

“Still gonna get sick,” he replied.

You started unpacking the stocking, pulling two pairs of fuzzy socks out of the top.

“Because your feet are always freezing,” he said, looking back at you. “Figured one pair for here, one for your house…”

“Thank you,” you smiled, going back into the stocking. There was some of your favorite candy, one of the face masks Sarah had, a bottle of gold nail polish.

“We can do a spa day!” She beamed.

“We can,” you laughed, looking at Joel who just shrugged, a small smile on his face.

At the bottom of the stocking was a chunky gold pen, thick plastic encasing glitter and you turned it over in your fingers, frowning for a moment at just how familiar it felt.

“Saw one like the one you had when we were kids years ago,” Joel said. “Bought it on a whim, thought you might want it.”

You wanted to say thank you but you couldn’t seem to make a sound, the words caught in your throat. Instead, you just threw your arms around his neck and he laughed a little when he caught you, his hand sliding over your side and around to your back.

You stayed close to Joel and watched as Sarah tore through her presents, the envelope with the concert tickets safely in Joel’s possession.

“Hey Sarah,” you said eventually. “Can you hand me that box under there that’s for your dad?”

Joel frowned as Sarah got the box, setting it on the coffee table in front of Joel and hovering as he went to open it.

“Didn’t need to get me anything,” he said.

“Too damn bad,” you said. “Don’t get too excited, it’s nothing crazy.”

He opened it. Inside were two shot glasses, leather wrapped with a monogrammed M burned into it.

“I thought you needed some accessories for the flask,” you smiled.

He laughed.

“We gotta break these in,” he said, looking them over. “They even look like they match…”

“May have gotten Tommy to send me pictures,” you said. “Keep going, one more thing in there.”

He shifted the tissue paper before pulling out a cassette tape, frowning at it for a moment.

“What…”

“I know your stereo is old enough that it plays tapes,” you said, palm out. “Hand it over.”

He laughed once but obeyed and you went to put the tape in, adjusting the volume so it wouldn’t be too loud. It crackled a bit at the start and then Joel’s voice - almost 20 years younger but still so familiar - filled the room.

“My name is Joel Miller,” he said. “I play guitar and sing, mostly rock, little country…”

Joel gaped at the stereo before looking to you.

“Is this that old demo tape we made when we were kids?” He asked. You laughed and nodded. “Holy… where the hell’d you find this thing?”

“I kept one,” you shrugged. “Thought it might give you a nudge toward playing again.”

The Joel on tape started playing and Sarah came and sat between the two of you on the couch, looking up at her dad.

“So that’s you?” She asked.

“Sure is,” he said. “Long time ago, I was closer to your age then than mine now.”

“What’s it for?” She asked.

“Well,” Joel looked over her head to you and smiled a little before looking back at his daughter. “I always liked playing, wanted to be a singer for a while. Goldie here talked me into making some demo tapes to give to places around here that had open mic nights so I could actually play for people. Worked, too. Had a few places I played pretty often for a bit in there thanks to that tape.”

“Why’d you stop?” She frowned. “You were good.”

Joel shrugged.

“Bigger things to do,” he kissed the top of her head. “Though speaking of music… think there might be one more thing for you under the tree.”

Sarah’s frown deepened and she went to look around, picking her way through wrapping paper and but not finding it.

“There’s nothing over here, Dad,” she said. “Are you sure?”

“Oh, right,” Joel said, giving you a wink and pulling the envelope out of the pocket of his pajama pants. “Here it is.”

She jumped over some of the boxes scattered over the floor and took the envelope from him, her eyebrows knitting together as she read the writing on the front.

“To the swiftest music fan?” She said, looking up from the envelope and at the two of you.

You just shrugged.

“Gonna have to open it, kiddo,” Joel said.

She slipped her fingers below the seal and pulled out the card, two pieces of paper falling to the ground before she had a chance to read it. She picked them up and unfolded them, reading the first one.

“It says we have a hotel room in Dallas?” She looked at Joel.

“Gotta read the other paper, baby girl,” he said. “That’s the important one. And the one from Aunt Goldie.”

She flipped to that page next and only held it for a moment before shrieking and throwing herself at you, knocking you back into the couch.

“You got Eras Tour tickets?” She pulled back, half on top of you and half on the couch. You just laughed and nodded. “Oh my GOD, thank you thank you thank you, you’re the best! OH MY GOD!”

“Well your dad is the one getting us there and making sure we have a place to stay,” you said. “So hug him, too.”

“Thank you!” She threw herself at him, too, and he laughed, catching her and giving her a squeeze. “This is the best present ever, it’s going to be the best time, I can’t wait! We’re going to see Taylor Swift! Oh my GOD, I have to tell my friends!”

She shot off to her room to get her phone and Joel laughed, looking over at you.

“OK I don’t even care that she likes you better n’me now,” he said. “She’s that happy? Worth it.”

“We’ll see how we feel after a few days wrangling her for the Taylor Swift concert,” you said, watching where she’d disappeared up the stairs. “But… yeah, definitely worth it.”

“Hey,” Joel said, voice oddly earnest. You looked over at him. “Thanks for loving my kid.”

You smiled a little.

“She’s yours,” you said. “How could I not?”

Tommy came over a few hours later, once the turkey was in the oven and the wrapping paper was cleaned up off the floor. He gave Sarah a five pound bag of Sour Patch Kids and said “don’t tell your dad” before kissing the top of her head as she scampered off to stash her hoard in her room. He greeted you with a hug with a tight squeeze on the end and you still couldn’t quite get used to just how adult he was. There was part of you that still saw him as the little kid who trailed after you and Joel, the one who sometimes begged to go to Dairy Queen for a Blizzard. Now, he was nearly as tall as his older brother, drinking a beer and talking to Joel about a woman named Maria he’d just started dating. It was an odd reminder of just how much time you’d lost with Joel, just how much had changed.

The four of you had dinner - Tommy teasing Sarah more like a loving older brother than an uncle, making you smile - and, before too long, the day was done.

Sarah insisted on listening to Taylor Swift while she got ready for bed and Joel read to her from an Artemis Fowl book, you eavesdropping on Joel doing the voices from your place in the living room while the cats curled up around you.

A keen sense of belonging settled over you then, as you held a mug of cocoa in one hand and the other rested on the back of your large, orange cat. This, you thought, was where you belonged. In this space, in this time, alongside these people.

How could you ever hope to find this anywhere else? How were you ever supposed to recover from this stubborn crush if Joel was the place you felt most like home?

“You OK?” Joel asked, hovering toward the top of the stairs, his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants.

“Yeah,” you smiled and gave Puck a scratch and let yourself have the feeling. “I’m good.”

You got up early the next morning, Joel barely awake enough to help carry your bags to the car.

“See you New Year’s Eve,” he said, his hands in the pockets of his pajama pants and his hair in total disarray. “Better have that damn book done by then.”

“Do you really think you can write an entire book in a week?” You asked, brows raised.

“I dunno,” he said. “You’re the smart one, you tell me.”

You rolled your eyes and he laughed a little.

“Alright, I’m goin’ back to bed,” he said. “Text me when you get there, have fun being a genius.”

“Hey,” you called to him as he made it halfway back up his walk. He turned to face you, frowning slightly. “Thanks. For being my friend.”

An expression you couldn’t place passed over his face before he smiled a little.

“Careful,” he said. “Talk like that enough, people might think you care about me and shit.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” you said. “See you in a few days.”

He watched you drive off and you made your way to the hill country and the cabin Stephanie had reserved for you. You’d insisted that it have extra bedrooms and a hot tub and were surprised that she hadn’t pushed back on it.

“Whatever you need to get the job done, you’ve got it,” she said after sending you links to some cabins. “I’m just here to facilitate.”

You stopped on the way for groceries, stocking up so you wouldn’t need to leave the house once you settled in. You went with most of your standbys for cooking for one and watching the careful diet you’d been on for years but then thought of Joel bringing you tamales and plying you with cookies over the last few days. Maybe he was right. Maybe you did need to live a little. You got the stuff to make the bagel sandwiches, too.

The cabin was damn near idyllic, all stone and wood with huge windows looking out at the brush leading down to the lake in the backyard. The hot tub was set on the back porch, a fire pit in the yard and rocking chairs out front. The kitchen was large and reasonably well equipped and there were enough bedrooms that Joel, Tommy and Sarah could have their own when they all joined you for New Year’s Eve. There was even a desk set up near a window that overlooked the water and you set up your laptop and charger and got out your notebook with the pen from your Christmas stocking, arranging everything just so.

“Alright,” you said to no one after you got the groceries put away and made yourself a cup of coffee before settling in at the desk to write. “Let’s do this.”

And… you tried. You really, truly did.

Day one, you got most of an outline done. Enough of one that you went to bed feeling somewhat accomplished and felt good treating yourself to a bagel sandwich in the morning. But then, when you sat down to work on the next part for day two, you weren’t sure you liked any of it anymore. You pressed on, anyway. Day three, you tried to write the first chapter and you made some decent progress, at least feeling like you were getting to know the characters a bit as you settled into the story. But, day four, you read what you’d written the day before and wanted to claw your way out of your skin. What were you doing? Why did you think you could do this at all? Had you ever made anything worthwhile on your own? Why would you suddenly be able to do it now?

The text came through when you were taking a break for lunch, desperately avoiding the gnawing feeling of failure after days of accomplishing fuck all when you really had no excuse not to. You sighed and opened your texts, fully expecting from Joel or Anna or even Stephanie.

It wasn’t.

Hey Doll

You dropped your fork in shock and it clattered to your plate as you blinked at your phone in total shock. He was texting you. Why was he texting you? He hadn’t texted you in months, not since you’d left Rhode Island. Why now? Did you want to know? Could you resist knowing?

Hi Gale

You propped your phone up against your half empty can of Diet Dr. Pepper and stared at the screen, waiting for the next shoe to drop.

It didn’t take long.

How’ve you been doing?

Your hand shook as you replied.

Alright. I like the new school. You?

He responded almost instantly.

Not bad. Was just thinking about you. Miss you.

You froze, your heart in your throat.

He missed you. How could he just say that? The collapse of your marriage had been one of the most painful things you’d ever gone through, happening in slow motion as he pulled further and further away and you desperately tried to dig your nails in to keep him close. You’d all but begged for him to miss you for years and now he was just texting it to you out of the blue. How could he just say that? How could you pretend like it wasn’t what you wanted to hear?

You went to his Facebook page and checked his relationship status, one of the upsides to being with an older man meaning that his social media presence was pretty limited. He was still listed as in a relationship with Carla, a woman he’d met in much the same way he’d met you. The thought made your stomach churn, that you’d been so easily replaced by the younger, thinner, prettier version who had been dropped on his desk, practically gift wrapped.

You went back to the texts.

How’s Carla?

There was a longer pause that time.

She’s not you.

“Jesus,” you said, setting the phone down and closing your eyes for a moment. You tried to think, forcing yourself to be practical. This wasn’t the time or the place to be having this conversation. You couldn’t have this conversation, not when you’d just been sitting her wondering if you could do the only thing you’d ever felt like you were supposed to do without his help.

I don’t want to talk about this now. I’m in the middle of working on my book. Maybe another time.

You stared at the phone, waiting for him to respond. He never did.

“Yeah, sure seems like you missed me,” you muttered, finishing your salad and cleaning up from lunch, settling back in at your desk to write for the afternoon, trying not to think about the very real possibility that your writing career had ended when your marriage did.

“I’m losing my mind over here,” you said, breaking down and calling Joel on day five. “There’s only so much I can say to a wall, you know.”

“We’re comin’ your way tomorrow,” he said. “Be praying for some peace and quiet once Sarah and Tommy are there, trust me. Still like pecan praline ice cream, yeah?”

“Blue Bell?” You asked.

“Course it’s Blue Bell,” you could hear him roll his eyes through the phone. “What kind of animal you take me for?”

“Oh, my apologies…”

“Anything else you can think of?” He asked. “I can always stop on the way, too, but it’s easier while I’m here.”

“I still think it’s silly to buy ice cream an hour away and then drive it out here,” you said.

“That’s what coolers are for,” he replied. “Stop finding shit to worry about. Just give the writing one more shot, see how far you get. Who knows, you might surprise yourself.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you remembered your texts with Gale the day before.

“Goldie,” Joel said, tone serious. “That all that’s on your mind?”

“Stop trying to read my thoughts,” you said.

“Tell me,” he said. “Or I’ll show up early and make you.”

“That a threat?”

“That’s a promise,” he said. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Gale texted yesterday,” you said, fidgeting with the handle of your coffee mug, the coffee itself going cold an hour ago.

“Gale?” Joel asked, tone sharp. “Fuckin’ Gale? The fuck did he want?”

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “I’ll show you the texts when you get here, maybe you can translate them for me since he’s not making any damn sense.”

“That asshole better not be making any trouble,” Joel said. “I will find him and kick his ass, Goldie, just say the word…”

“I know you will,” you laughed a little. “But don’t worry about it right now. And I should let you go…”

“Yeah, go write your book,” he teased. “Change the world and shit.”

There was a knock at your front door and you frowned, staring at it. There was a window to the side of it but all you could see was a shadow.

“Hey, Joel?” You said. “Hang on one second, there’s someone at my door.”

“What?” He sounded serious now. “Were you expecting anyone?”

“No,” you said quietly, approaching it slowly and trying to see through the frosted glass. You couldn’t make out who it was. “So just stay on the line and make sure I’m not axe murdered…”

“Need me to come out there now?” He asked. “If you ain’t safe…”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” you said, unlocking the deadbolt. “Probably just a neighbor, but…”

You opened the door and peered out through the crack, phone clutched against your head.

You still almost dropped it.

“Hey Doll.”

***

“Hi Gale.”

Joel’s heart dropped.

“Gale?” He said, pressing his phone tight against his head and trying not to yell in the middle of the line at the HEB. “Fucking Gale? He’s there?”

“I have to go,” you said quickly. “Talk later.”

You hung up before he had a chance to say goodbye. He tried calling you back but you ignored it.

Joel stood there, staring at his cart for a moment, his head swimming.

Was he freaking out because it was you and he didn’t want you alone at some romantic looking cabin with your ex-husband? Was it because he knew that you weren’t in a place to handle this right now? Was it because he knew - knew - that your ex was a goddamn predator?

He’d bitten his tongue about that fact since you’d been back, that the man you’d married had been more than twice your age and you’d only been a legal adult for all of a month when he’d met you. It didn’t matter that it was you, that Joel had gone searching for you and found you there with him all those years ago, he’d want to beat the shit out of a man like that regardless of who it was. A man like that couldn’t be trusted.

He especially couldn’t be trusted with you.

Joel checked out as fast as he could, calling Tommy as he drove.

“Hey, need you to do me a favor,” he said quickly.

“You always need me to do you a favor,” Tommy said. “One of these days I’m gonna cash in.”

“Yeah, who got you the only job besides the army you’ve kept longer than a week?” Joel asked.

Tommy sighed.

“Fine. What’s up?”

“Need you to take Sarah tonight.”

“Joel, come on!”

“M’serious,” Joel said. “Goldie’s ex just showed up at the fucking cabin…”

“Oh, not that fucking asshole from the funeral,” Tommy cut him off.

“That’s the one,” Joel said.

“Fuck that guy,” Tommy said. “He needs to stay the fuck away from her.”

“Yeah, somethin’ tells me he ain’t gonna make that choice on his own,” Joel said. “So I need you to pick up Sarah and take her for the night. And bring me my shit tomorrow. I’ll text you the address where Sarah’s at, she’s at her friend’s playing right now, needs to be picked up about five…”

“Yeah, I got it,” Tommy said. “Go save the day.”

Joel drove as fast as he dared, not familiar enough with where cops liked to hide to go too fast. He pulled up in front of the cabin you’d sent him the information for a week and a half earlier. He’d have admired it, in another circumstance. He’d always wanted a place like this, someplace quiet where there was enough space to live a little, maybe hunt. A place where Sarah could run and play and get to know nature a little.

But in that moment, he was too pissed to take it in.

He grabbed a bag out of the trunk - pretense more than anything else - and stalked up to the door before knocking on it, his fist coming down in heavy thuds on the wood.

You pulled open the door, a surprised look on your face and your ex-husband at your back.

He looked just about the same as Joel remembered him from before. Tall but not as tall as him, a refined air about him that made Joel want to deck him, a smug look on his face. His hair was gray and his face was wrinkled and Joel fucking hated him.

“Joel,” you said, staring at him. “What are you…”

Joel did the only thing he could think to do, fucking Brad standing so close to you with a hand between your shoulder blades like he fucking owned you.

“Missed you too much, baby,” he said, watching your eyes go a little wide at the word. “Couldn’t wait until tomorrow.”

He reached out and cupped the hinge of your jaw, his fingers wrapping around the back of your neck and he tugged you closer, his heart beating so fast he was sure that your fucking ex could hear it.

But he didn’t care.

All he cared about was the way your lips felt on his when he kissed you.

Next Chapter

A/N: I mean we can all agree, fuck Brad/Gale.

But also... his presence does get results.

THANKS FOR PUTTING UP WITH ME! Love you!

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #slow burn #halcyon

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tiddygame · 7 months

Text

i’ve stared at this for so long that i now hate it and think ive lost all concept of how to write so take this and get it out of my google docs

the introduction is rough and the medical depictions (and accuracy/realism) could use some (a lot of) work but whatever! here it is, my vague yet still oddly specific idea of how the face reveal would go in @myriadblvck ’s streamer au:

tw: description of a panic attack? i think?

[this takes place post first irl meet but before they’re officially together]

imagine ghost has a glasgow smile but on one side they carved a little too deep and left some nerve damage. time and surgery helped, after which he could eat unimpeded and talk without a lisp, but there's still some facial nerve damage and/or skin contractures from scarring, specifically around the corner of his mouth.

now, everytime he smiles, be it shit eating grin or a full genuine joy filled smile that not even grumpy mcgrumperson could hold off, it always looks wrong because one corner doesn't raise fully like the other.

everything else is fine, there isn’t any facial paralysis, he just smiles… wrong. especially since only one eye properly squints when he smiles, giving him the look of someone who got stuck mid wink.

if he wants to look “normal” (or as normal as he could get it) he has to manually squint his other eye. still, it always felt weird; you don't realize how much those muscles affect the rest of your face until they're gone.

it's why he learned to always wear the mask.

when his expression is neutral, you don’t really notice it. if you can see his mouth when he talks however, it’s obvious that there’s something wrong. he wouldn’t say he’s necessarily ashamed of the scars and damage itself, but it’s the stares that are the worst. before he started hiding behind it, people would openly gawk or even glare at him as if he was some ne’er-do-well gang member that got what was coming to him.

he still remembers the cosmetic surgeon that had been talking to him about fixing the contractures— the whole appointment was a fucking nightmare. the cuts had healed nicely enough especially considering how bad it could have been; he was lucky to only need a little cosmetic help. the only reason he was there was so he could fucking eat food without struggling to open his mouth.

the doctor spent god knows how long breaking down everything wrong with his face like he was a fucking car mechanic lying about how dirty your filter is. the guy constantly mentioned that while he was under, they could also fix his jawline, do a rhinoplasty, trying to break him down to agree to more work.

he was already fuming my the time the doc brought up how kids would react. asking ghost if he wanted to scare children since “you cant expect the little youngins that are still learning about the world to not get scared by something scary,” and that “even some adults would cringe at the scarring.”

what stuck out most was the condescending smile he had when he said it. as if he was pointing out the obvious and ghost was being stupid and shortsighted by not agreeing.

he declined everything except what was medically necessary. the procedure went fine and after an aggravatingly long recovery period, he could eat solid foods again without issue. but the comments still stuck with him.

…okay, maybe he’s a little ashamed.

scaring kids with your face doesn’t feel good and being reminded of everything you’ve lost when you try to smile can really fuck you up in a way words fail to describe.

so yeah, he hates it. he’s gotten used to the mask, both skull clad balaclava and simple medical mask, being a permanent layer of armor. even now that he’s a bit more comfortable in his own skin it still feels wrong to pull it off.

when he gets close to soap, it still feels like a layer of vulnerability that he’ll never be prepared for.

the first time he let soap see his face, there hadn’t been any grandiose build up, no extravagant planning.

simon had arrived just a few hours earlier. he hated commercial flights with a burning passion but it was always worth it to see johnny.

with soaps twin out of town for the week, he had decided to take leave to spend time with his friend, a friend that he most certainly did NOT have a crush on (a disclaimer roach and gaz heard everytime they started snickering over ghost taking leave.)

johnny had cooked something nice and simple for dinner, saying that simon had spent too long with MREs and deserved real food (ghost only agreed if he was the one washing the dishes, soap had laughed and told him he's not so kind as to let him off the hook for chores).

when they ate, it was always in the living room with johnny taking care to always stay angled away from simon, never trying to catch a glimpse, regardless of how much he wanted to see what was under the mask. the obvious gesture of kindness and respect for his boundaries always left him feeling all weird and fuzzy inside. but, then again, johnny seemed pretty good at triggering that feeling in general.

their finished plates were on the coffee table and johnny was watching whatever dumb movie he had put on. he was pretty sure the man spent more time talking over it and making fun of everything than he did actually watching it (it was simon’s favorite way to watch a movie.)

ghost however, was watching soap. thinking.

in the end, it was an impulsive decision made after a strong three seconds of consideration.

“you uhm— you can look by the way,” ghost stared at the can of soda in his hands, immediately regretting the words.

“what?” soap didn’t fully turn, just shifted slightly to hear him better. a simple gesture to show he was listening without turning to face him. it normally made simon happy to see that johnny was more than willing to accommodate for his boundaries. now though it made him feel stupid for robbing johnny of a normal face to face conversation, a normal human interaction, just over his idiotic insecurities.

“my face, you—,” he felt his heart block his airway and tried clearing his throat before continuing, “you can look if you want,” christ he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. why was he getting so fucked up over this?

“are you sure?” he hadn’t turned yet, but ghost could see his pensive expression from here. this should be nothing. realistically, he knew johnny seeing his scars wouldn’t suddenly make him hate him… right?

“yes.”

but it was more than the fear of hatred, wasn’t it? he was scared that johnny would see him. see more than just the scars, see all of the ugly idiosyncrasies and insecurities laid bare. afraid that johnny would see the truth of how unlovable he was.

jesus he was getting so fucking worked up and dramatic over nothing.

ghost didn’t look up. he made an effort to not focus on his peripheral vision. he heard soap turn, heard the intake of breath. the silence was loud only for a second. then, deafening white noise surrounded him, inescapable, suffocating.

fuck.

he didn’t regret giving permission but god did he regret everything else; the stupid scars, the stupid nerve damage, the stupid way he had managed to fall for someone so fucking good like johnny while he was unequivocally unworthy of his love.

stop being so fucking dramatic. you are not together, never have been and never will be. reality was blatant in front of him but it didn’t stop his heart from foolishly hoping.

he heard soap stand and walk closer. saw from where he was still staring a hole in the can his feet step in front of his. saw johnny’s hands raise. he took a deep breath in, closed his eyes, and with a great deal of effort didn’t flinch when soaps fingers grazed his cheek.

both of his hands came up to cup his face, holding him and ever so slightly tilting his face up, giving him the chance to pull away. he didn’t. he may be a coward but he wasn’t backing down.

ghost eventually opened his eyes to see soap staring at him with wide eyes. he looked away, staring off to some point on the right. he hated not knowing what soap was thinking.

they stayed there for a while before soap broke the silence, muttering, “i fuckin knew you had freckles.”

it was stupid but it shocked a laugh out of ghost. he meant to drop his head, embarrassed that something so dumb made him laugh, but accidentally just pushed himself further into soaps hands making him blush.

he looked up and saw soap staring even harder than before. the chuckle died in his chest.

“do that again.”

ghost just gave him a confused look.

“smile.”

such a simple request, a one word sentence, but it set his face ablaze. his breath caught in his throat, somewhere around where his heart was still trying to choke him.

…he hadn’t thought it was that bad but soaps reaction indicated otherwise. fuck. was his it that awful? he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. this was stupid. he was stupid.

“simon,” of course, one word from johnny and it felt like he could breathe again.

“please?”

fucking goddamn soap and his stupid fucking puppy dog eyes and the way he has ghost wrapped around his fucking finger without even realizing.

ghost smiled. there was no real mirth, more a grimace than anything else. he just wanted to get this over with.

soap was still staring at him, his thumbs tracing his lips, following scars, drawing imaginary lines between freckles… if he wasn't so terrified it might have felt nice.

“Christ,” ghosts heart cracked more, “you weren't lying when you said you were beautiful.”

ghost huffed a laugh and went back to staring off to the right, the fake smile dropping. of course soap would try to lighten the mood with a joke.

his panic fled as quickly as it had consumed him, now just left sitting in soap's living room, face still cradled in caring hands, resigned to his mistakes.

he felt so tired and johnny's hands felt so inviting.

“i wasn't joking,” soap looked…upset? angry? wait— fuck, what’d he do?

ghost stared back at soap, confused and tired. soaps nails felt the grooves of the scar, catching where the skin was raised and lowered.

“you don't have to lie, soap. im a grown man. I'm not fragile. you don't need to coddle me,” ghost said it like it was a joke, hoping soap would laugh along and that this would all just blow over. that tomorrow morning they could forget this ever happened.

“are you calling me a liar?” soap’s brow furrowed. great. instead, he had managed to make everything worse and piss off soap as well.

ghost took in a deep breath, giving himself another shot at calming things down, “no, I'm not. I think you're lying, but you're not a liar,” he stood and stepped to the side, grabbing their dirty plates and walking them to the kitchen sink, “you just don't want to upset me, it's fine. I get it. you're a nice person but you don't have to lie to spare my feelings.”

“I am not fucking lying!” as per usual, all ghost had managed to do was make things worse. there’s a reason he had decided to stick to the battlefield and give up on domesticity.

“well alright then. agree to disagree,” he turned the kitchen tap and started rinsing the dishes, waiting for the water to heat up. just walk away. end it there. let us forget about this stupid blunder and move on. please just leave it. please, please, please—

“no.”

the force behind it damn near made ghost drop the plate he was holding. he managed to set it in the sink carefully and turned to face soap, who was now in the kitchen as well.

“i— I'm not just gonna fucking— simon,” soap took in a deeper breath and went to continue but ghost was faster.

“johnny,” he interrupted, walking forward with his hands up in a gesture of surrender, approaching slowly.

one last chance to not fuck everything up.

“the fact is they're called deformities for a reason. they're not cute. they're not pretty. they're your body’s way of healing what it can and protecting what it can't. it's not meant to look nice, it's just—”

“bullshit they’re not pretty! says fucking who?” the genuine distress in soap’s voice and force behind his words caught him off guard. “simon—”

he huffed and ran his fingers through his hair roughly, pulling slightly at the strands. christ, ghost needs to shut the fuck up. every single time he speaks he just upsets soap more and more.

he needs to retake his hostage negotiations courses. clearly he has forgotten everything about how to diffuse a situation.

johnny takes another second to breathe and collect his thoughts before he speaks.

“simon. I know that— that ‘this’ isn't something that's going to fix itself overnight and I don't expect it to. but, ‘the fact is,’ I think you're pretty.”

ghost opens his mouth to disagree but johnny doesn’t let him.

“no no,” johnny put his hand over simon’s mouth, shocking him into silence. he blinks twice, stupefied.

“i think— no. I know you're pretty. cute even. beautiful is a given but obviously worth mentioning.”

his hand moved to cup simon’s cheek. ghost grabbed his wrist but didn’t stop him, wether it was a warning or encouragement he himself didn’t know.

johnny continued, unperturbed, “you disagreeing doesn't change that, right?”

there was a pause and simon realized he wanted an answer.

“johnny-”

“ah ah!” his hand moved back to cover his mouth, grabbing his face and shaking his head back and forth, over accentuating his words, “you disagreeing doesn't change that, right? yes or no.”

he stopped shaking him and moved his hand back to simon’s cheek. simon sighed, defeated, “yes. you are right.”

johnny looked smug, “good. and what do you say when i give you a compliment you don’t agree with?”

simon sputtered, “wha— i don't fucking know—”

“nothing! you don’t say anything!” soap looked way too proud of himself and he continued, “or thank you if you feel so inclined.”

“that was a trick question,” simon replied eventually.

johnny thumbed over his scars once more, again tracing them, “sure it was. now go take a shower.”

he patted his cheek twice and walked to the hallway.

“wait,” johnny probably shook the few remaining brain cells out of his head. “this whole conversation ends with you telling me that I stink?”

“yes. rancid,” johnny opened the door to the linen closet. simon was still in the kitchen. the tap was still running.

“no dipshit, do you not remember telling me that commercial planes makes you feel gross?” johnny threw a towel at him, which he caught just in time for johnny to hit him with a bath rag.

ghost had mentioned that… ages ago, he thinks. on facetime with each other, discussing the merits of bathrooms on public transport. he had said that enclosed, crowded spaces like commercial planes or buses made him feel, well, gross. how—or why—did he remember that?

“but… I’m supposed to wash the dishes?” a weak argument against the stubbornness he was faced with but simon had officially lost track of his mind and this conversation.

johnny shot him a weird look as he walked back towards the kitchen sink. simon still hadn’t moved.

“did you think i was being serious earlier?”

“yes???” he felt like he had been given a lobotomy.

johnny decided to take pity on him and explained in a soft voice that felt out of place, “i was being sarcastic. i’m not going to make you wash the dishes, simon.”

“but that was the agreement: you cook and i wash the dishes.”

johnny laughed as if he remembered something funny, “yeah, i lied.”

simon still stood there, trying to figure out if he had a stroke. johnny had been angry, completely pissed at him, but now was letting him off the hook and calling him pretty? what the fuck is happening?

johnny turned him and pushed him towards the hallway. simon could have resisted but his resolve always seems to crumble around johnny mactavish.

“now go shower, you beautiful bastard,” soap grabbed one of the plates out of the sink and started washing it with water that had probably heated ages ago.

ghost walked towards the bathroom, feeling like he was on autopilot, limbs disconnected from his brain. his cheek still felt… odd? weird? tingly?

it felt something from where johnny had grabbed it. ghost thinks… he thinks he likes the feeling, whatever it is.

he needs to sleep.

#ghost: i look like a monster :(#soap: OH NO HES HOT #[also the interaction ghost has with the doctor is based on real life experience both me and other family members have had lmao]#also also it goes w/o saying but this isn’t negative towards cosmetic surgery but rather the cosmetic surgery industry #not pictured: me having a full scale debate w/ myself over tagging the person this is literally for #look i have anxiety alright #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #unreliable narrator #(soap is so fucking in love and ghost is so fucking stupid)#streamer au #streamer! au #streamer! soap #or is it #streamer!soap #god i hate tumblrs tagging system #my writing

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deadbaguette · 24 days

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Your art is beautiful omg I love your designs so much,,, I love the tenderness in their expressions,,, you are answering lots of requests, maybe do something self indulgent for yourself! Or characters that have zero interactions together but that under different circumstances would get along, or a personal headcanon! Have fun and follow your heart

Waittt this is so sweet of you🥺❤️ Thank you so much, this absolutely made my day <3 Sorry for the wait with answering it! In all honesty it was nice to open my ask box and read this whenever I didn’t know what to do ^^ It’s very kind of you to to consider that I’ve been answering a lot of asks but rest assured I don’t have a problem with reqs! 🙏 I enjoy drawing it just simply helps when people suggest ideas lol :D But truly this what’s been so kind of you, but enough of my yapping dhdgdh

Characters that have never interacted that I think would get along under different circumstances, ohhh you have quite literally spoken straight to my soul! That’s my specialty LMAO😂 Bringing out my found family oriented odypendio AU for this one, have some Telemachus and Diomedes

I’ll have a few ramblings below the cut, but thank you for the ask!

Diomedes came to Ithaca a little late, I imagine Telemachus was around early teens

Athena keeps in touch with Diomedes, but has forbidden him from getting involved with the politics of Ithaca. She says it’s not his fate to get involved

Diomedes acts as some sort of(???) stand in king with Penelope, but it’s not official. They both see officialising it as admitting that Odysseus is dead, and neither of them want that

While Diomedes can’t interfere directly with the suitors, he has gotten into some arguments with them mostly about Telemachus. Athena pulls what she did on Achilles and stops him from murdering the suitors, but he then goes later to tend to the bruises and cuts that Telemachus got from a fight. That’s what this scene is!

Telemachus likes Diomedes, and while thinking of him as his dad is a stretch, he’s definitely some sort of father figure. This is much to Diomedes’ dismay (he doesn’t know how to be a dad, ik he gets kids in the original when he goes to Italy, but with how absent his own dad was he’s not sure how to help Telemachus with his own problem)

“I’m not his dad” he says, while carrying a sleeping 13 yr old Telemachus on his back so he can tuck him into bed. Like Penelope is side eyeing him (not in a bad way lmao).

#the odyssey #diomedes #telemachus #odypendio #deadbaguettesrambles #deadbaguettesart #deadbaguettes au #deadbaguettesask #diomedes goes to ithaca au

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beardedjoel · 1 year

Text

closer | part seventeen

joel x f!reader. non-apocalypse au.

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3

chapter summary: your new coworkers discover your relationship with joel, and a night out with them after work results in a distressing situation. afterwards, joel wants to help you make it all better. 9.2k words.

story warnings: 18+ MDNI, age difference (joel is 42 and reader is 25), soft!dom joel, unprotected piv, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, joel is so boyfriend this chapter

extra warning: PLEASE READ! this chapter contains a scene of attempted sexual assault, so i understand that’s very sensitive and a bit different than my typical chapter. it’s not an extremely graphic or long scene, but it is there and could be triggering! i’ve put a TW where the scene starts and END TW where the scene ends in case you want to read around it.

You hate the way the days seem to be flying by now - your restful, sexy summer came to an abrupt end when you opened an email from your work one morning, requesting that you start coming to the office as soon as you possibly could. Now, two weeks into it, you’re busier than you’ve been in a long time, trying to balance this new workload that had fallen into your lap. When you’d been working at home, gathering ideas, it was one thing, but now you’re surrounded by a team of people relying on you and your partner, Rayna, to get things up and running smoothly. You have to admit, you two are absolutely kicking ass, but it’s meant a lot of late nights at the office with her and some of your other team members.

Joel has been almost too supportive through all of this, and you know that he’s holding back his own feelings about seeing you less to encourage you to keep working so hard. You haven’t been seeing each other as often due to both of your work schedules, but you constantly let each other know how much you miss the other. The first few days of work, you were barely coherent, practically sleeping before your head hit the pillow each night, and you felt terrible for being such awful company for Joel when you’d manage to drag yourself over to his house. He reassured you multiple times but the guilt still gnawed at you for the entire week. Things have evened out somewhat, but you miss the carefree days you’d been able to focus only on Joel. You suppose it’s healthier this way, though, to have other focuses in life other than a man.

Just because you’d gotten busier, your appetite for Joel hadn’t dissipated in the least, leaving you an overworked, stressed, horny mess. You both did your best to get your fill of each other over the last two weeks, but it was never enough. It never has been with Joel, and you start to wonder if it ever will be every time you satisfy your craving for him and then feel it come right back again. The hunger you have for that man to drive himself into you at all hours of the day has only grown with your feelings for him, and you have to admit, it adds to your stress just how deeply you feel for him these days.

The fact that you haven’t found a good time to tell him you love him is just one more thing to gnaw at you in the back of your mind while you’re trying to get your life in order. You know it seems crazy, that after such a short time together you love the man, but every moment you’ve spent with him since the thought crossed your mind has only further proved it to you.

And you’re terrified of what might happen if you admit it to him.

You’re at work, finishing up a quick meeting with Rayna when your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you see a text from Joel come through.

Joel: Surprise lunch?

You: Maybe… what time?

Joel: … right now

You: What?!

Joel: I might be outside with food for you

You: 😂 okay, Mr. Romantic. Come inside to floor 3, I’ll just be a few minutes

The office space is a rather large, open concept, and you have a clear view of the front through the glass divider that separates your department. Several minutes later you see Joel hesitantly poke his head into the office, looking slightly clueless, and it’s adorable to you for some reason. Maybe it’s that he’s always so in charge of things and confident that whenever you get a chance to see him nervous it melts your heart a little bit.

“Hey, I’m gonna head out for lunch really quick, I’ll be back in a bit,” you tell Rayna, despite knowing you two have nothing scheduled for the next hour for that very reason.

She gives you a go ahead, so you start heading towards Joel and wave him down, and he flashes you your favorite lopsided smile. He looks like he came right from work, dressed in a paint splattered t-shirt and jeans, carrying a cooler full of food. It’s certainly a sight for sore eyes, you think to yourself, any time you see Joel fresh from work, always looking a little dirtier than usual. Between that and the insatiable need you’ve had for him lately it’s more than enough to make you want to climb him like a tree right here in front of everyone.

You notice several nearby, questioning eyes on you two as you loop your arm in his and head for the elevator.

“Nosy bastards,” Joel murmurs, and you stifle a laugh behind your hand, but nod in agreement.

“Very much so,” you tell him with a roll of your eyes. “There’s a cool cafeteria space in this building, we can eat there,” you add on while you wait for the elevator doors to open. As soon as you two are inside and the doors slide shut, you throw yourself at Joel, knowing you only have minutes, or even seconds, before the doors open back up. He quickly catches on, despite his surprise, and as your lips clash with his he reciprocates quickly, his free hand that isn’t carrying the cooler cupping your face and bringing you even closer. Your tongues beg for entry in each other’s mouths over and over, as much as time will allow you, but after several beeps of the elevator, you know your time is almost up, so you reluctantly pull away from Joel, keeping one arm snaked around him.

“Fuck,” he breathes, pressing his forehead to yours and looking deeply into your eyes with a lustful gaze. “I’d ask what’s gotten into you, but you’ve always been my insatiable girl, haven’t you?” Joel says, low and inviting. You simply smirk in response as the doors of the elevator open and you step out in front of him, leading him to the large cafeteria space. It’s on a high up floor, boasting a sweeping view of downtown outside of large, glass windows. There’s tables and chairs, refrigerators, and microwaves for any employee in this office building to use, and you’ve tried to eat up here as often as you can to clear your mind and separate yourself from work for at least a little bit of time during the day.

Joel’s eyes scan the room, taking in the views and modern decor, and shoots you an impressed look.

“Very fancy,” he teases as you sit down at a small, rounded two top table near the windows.

“Fancy girl job calls for a fancy cafeteria,” you reply with a little laugh.

“And look at ya, in your cute little business clothes,” Joel says, scrunching his face proudly as he squeezes your leg under the table. The company you work for is relatively casual with things like the dress code, but you still like to wear clothing that hopefully can help gain the respect of your team, so you’re wearing black slacks and a short sleeved blouse today.

“Does it look okay, really? I feel like a fraud sometimes in these clothes, like I shouldn’t be so in charge of people,” you ask him, tugging anxiously at the collar of your shirt as you look down to inspect your outfit.

“Nah, honey, you deserve it all. And you look great as always. Very professional,” Joel says, giving you a wink, indicating while you may look professional, your behavior moments ago was anything but. You bite your lip with warming cheeks at the recollection as Joel starts pulling out the lunch he made for you two to share - a salad, potato chips, and something wrapped in foil, which he shyly admits is a grilled cheese, something you’d told him once you love eating.

“How the hell did you even manage to make a grilled cheese and get all the way here by lunch time?” you ask incredulously.

“We got a toaster oven on site, so I whipped this up real quick before comin’ here. Hope it stayed warm ‘nuff for ya,” he tells you, and you shake your head, in complete disbelief that Joel is a real, living, breathing, walking thing that you have the pleasure of having in your life.

“Thank you,” you manage to say, unwrapping the grilled cheese sandwich and biting into it. While not hot, it’s managed to stay warm and you tell Joel as much, a bit of relief passing over his face at hearing it.

“You look stressed, darlin’,” Joel says, his brows pinching together in concern.

“I’m always stressed now,” you say, propping your head in your hand, letting a long sigh escape you.

“Anythin’ I can do to help?”

“This right here is amazing,” you say, gesturing to the lunch spread out on the table. “Just getting to see you. And…I guess there’s something else,” you trail off, biting your lip, flashing Joel your best version of bedroom eyes. Joel’s interest is clearly piqued as he leans forward, a cocky smile pulling at his lips.

“And… what else, darlin’?”

You lean forward, glancing into Joel’s eyes but lowering them at the last second out of embarrassment. “I…need you,” you say, knowing you’re being vague but also knowing that Joel will get the message.

Joel laughs heartily before taking one of your hands in his across the table. “We can arrange somethin’, I s’pose.” he says.

“Oh, you suppose?” you say with a dramatic scoff.

“Sweetheart, don’t act like I wouldn’t take you right now on this damn table in front of everyone,” Joel retorts quickly, a little bite to his voice that has you fighting the urge to squirm in your seat. He drops your hand and sits back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“J-joel,” you breathe, glancing around the room as your face heats up with the sudden rush you feel. The image he described flashes through your mind, sending a pang of desire straight down between your legs. You just might be desperate enough to not care if he really did end up doing that.

“What? You gonna start this, don’t be mad when I try ‘n finish it,” he says. “You know I don’t stand for any teasin’, darlin’. Walkin’ in dangerous territory now, ain’t ya.”

You meet Joel’s gaze, intensity flaring in his eyes, and make a decision that definitely goes against your morals, but desperate times, and all of that.

“I think I saw a supply closet on the way here…” you mumble, and the smirk Joel gives you is worth any guilt you might be feeling about your unethical desires right now.

“C’mon baby, probably all wet already for me, aren’t you?” he asks with his voice low, his eyes drifting over your body hungrily. He stands up, collecting everything from the table into his cooler bag and offering you his hand. He drags you along, seeming to already have spotted the closet for himself, and it almost makes you laugh that you both had the same idea on the way to the cafeteria. He ushers you inside of the closet, a small, cramped space with shelves lined with all kinds of cleaning supplies and back-ups of toiletries for the bathrooms.

“Gonna be quiet, or let everyone here know how good you take my cock, hm?” Joel says, cupping your face with his hand and leaning in, brushing his lips over your cheek. You melt instantly, breathing in the familiar, musky scent of him and already feel your knees wanting to buckle underneath you. It’s like coming home when he gets this close to you, and you could fall into its trap a million times and never tire of it.

“Whichever you want,” you breathe out, the picture of submission as you let him press you into the wall and kiss you.

“What I want… is a taste of that sweet little pussy of yours. Been missin’ it,” Joel grumbles into your lips, and you press your hips forward, begging him to do what he’s telling you. As his lips clash with yours again, he unbuttons your pants, sliding a hand down into them and past the fabric of your underwear. Joel lets out a low sound of approval at the slickness he gathers on his fingers, rubbing them through your slit and beginning tight circles on your clit. You’ve had so much pent up sexual frustration towards him the last few days that you nearly combust right then, a strangled cry flying out of your mouth before you can stop it.

“Christ, baby, so fuckin’ needy… gonna make me crazy,” Joel murmurs, “You miss me this much?” he asks, pulling his fingers up to inspect how they shine and glisten with your arousal. You nod furiously, back arching you into him, begging for anything from him now.

“I do…P-please, I’ll do anything, just touch me.”

Joel considers your words for a moment, his cock getting harder just from hearing the way you beg for him. It satisfies some little itch inside of him every time the words please pass your lips when it comes to his cock. He groans internally at the feeling of how hard he’s getting, how he’s straining against his jeans, knowing he doesn’t have all the time he truly desires to get you off right now.

He crouches in front of you, pulling your pants down and helping you step out of them, along with your underwear, revealing your already throbbing, glistening cunt to him, eliciting a hungry growl from Joel. He grips the back of one of your thighs, throwing it over his shoulder before he buries himself between your legs, his tongue not wasting any time lapping up all the desire you’re pouring out for him. Joel moans deeply into your cunt, and in that moment you know, despite his typically calm and cool facade, he’s been just as sexually frustrated as you. You’re relishing in the way his mouth feels right now, but you know that with the little time you have left on your lunch, you want nothing more than to bring him pleasure, too.

“J-joel,” you say quietly, tugging at his hair.

“Feels so good baby, don’t it?” he murmurs, his lips immediately going to suck on your clit. Your eyes roll back, and you try to get your bearings enough to tell him to stop that and fuck you, but it’s hard now that you feel so close to the edge, your core tightening and burning with a coming climax.

“N-no, Joel… stop. I want you… to…”

Joel hears the word ‘no’ and immediately pulls himself off of you, peering up at you with questioning eyes. When you see the sight of your slickness coating his beard, his flushed face and glistening eyes, you nearly tell him to stick his face right back where it was instead.

“You okay? Did I hurt you?” Joel asks, his hand gently gripping onto your leg in concern.

“N-no of course not,” you say, shaking your head and catching your breath a little. “I just… we don’t have a lot of time, I want you inside of me,” you say sheepishly.

Joel’s lips curl into a smirk before he stands up, towering over you once again. You hook your fingers into his belt loops and bring him closer, feeling his cock grind against you through his jeans.

“This what you want?” Joel grinds against you again, situating his pants to free his cock, and it springs free, hard and throbbing between you two. Your eyes practically glaze over at the sight of it, having thought about him inside of you endlessly for the last few days.

“So cock hungry, look at you… what a sight, angel,” Joel leans forward, nipping at your bottom lip and you whimper when his cock brushes your bare skin between your legs.

“N-need you to fuck me Joel, can’t stop thinking about it.” You roll your hips into him with carnal need, and Joel teases your slit, rubbing his cock through your slick folds. Your hips convulse forward slightly as he passes over your throbbing clit several times, moans already coming out of your mouth as he devastates you with the barest of touches.

“You been touchin’ yourself, sweetheart? Just tryna get rid of that ache for me?”

You shake your head, “N-no, not really. Just a little. Wanted to save it all for you.”

“Oh, baby, that’s why you’re about to come all over this cock before I barely do a damn thing, ain’t it?” You simply nod your answer, sweating and whimpering for him to do more, more, more. He obliges you, resting the head of his cock at your entrance. “Much as I like you to be all mine, you gotta promise me you’ll take care of yourself whenever you need. Call me if you gotta, m’kay?” He pinches the side of your face, planting several kisses on your lips before Joel once again lifts one of your legs up, curling his arm under it to hold you steady as he slides himself into you. Both of your groans of relief fill the otherwise soundless room, panting breaths added into the mix as he starts to move slowly inside of you.

“God, baby, I missed this perfect little pussy,” Joel purrs, his body pressed right into yours, the curves of your body fitting perfectly together. His head buries in your neck as he thrusts into you, and you let out a quiet whimper, relishing in the sensation of him stretching you. “Tell me it’s all mine.”

“Yours, Joel, I’m all yours,” you whisper right next to his ear, and he shudders, letting out a gratified growl while his hips start to move more urgently into you. He fucks you into the wall aggressively, thrusting to the hilt each time, too focused on how good it feels to say any of his usual, teasing phrases to you.

“F-fuck sweetheart, I’m already gonna come, you feel so fuckin’ good and tight around me,” Joel whimpers, and moments later, he’s bucking his hips into you hard, spilling himself deep into your cunt with a groan. He takes a few deep breaths, coming back to reality after his climax, and his eyes widen, looking down at you. “Shit, sorry,” he says, pulling out of you quickly and stepping back before tucking himself back into his jeans.

“Hey, it’s alright,” you say, trying to rub his shoulder reassuringly.

“Just… been needin’ you, I guess,” Joel smirks a little, but you can tell he’s feeling embarrassed about the fact that he came before you had a chance to get off.

“Been needing you,” you echo back, and Joel slides his body against yours again and dips his head to your neck, kissing you teasingly as you grind yourself against him shamelessly.

“Think I can help with that…” Joel says, resuming his spot on his knees in front of you with a leg over his shoulder. “Gorgeous, baby,” he coos as he sees your cunt up close, slick with your own desire and his leaking out of you.

His mouth is on you again in a heartbeat, shamelessly licking up everything with vigor and moaning into your pussy as it flutters around nothing, desperate for release. “Feel this little hole squeezin’ for me, baby, you want me in there?”

“Fuck,” you groan out at his enthusiasm, “Yes, yes p-please.”

Joel inserts two fingers up to the furthest knuckle and you cry out, thrusting yourself onto his fingers and into his mouth to urge him deeper than he can possibly go right now.

“Killin’ me baby,” Joel purrs into your skin, “Bet you’d take this whole fuckin’ hand if I wanted you to.”

“Anything,” you say, breathing out an affirmation and continuing your unapologetic bounces onto his hand and face as you chase your high, his tongue flicking your clit rapidly along the way. You moan out loudly, then slap a hand over your mouth, remembering your surroundings. Shit, you hope nobody heard that and comes investigating. What a sight they would see if they opened this door right now, you think to yourself.

When his fingers start to curl inside of you, Joel begins sucking on your clit, and you have to bite down hard, grinding your teeth together, to try to dampen some of the absolutely filthy, ungodly sounds coming out of you. He pumps his fingers against that perfect spot inside of you and you lose control completely, legs turning to jelly and wobbling underneath you.

“Ohhh my god,” you whimper into your fist, your entire body trembling as Joel continues the same pattern over and over, sensing how close you are to reaching the crest of your pleasure. You feel all your senses except for the feeling of Joel’s mouth and hand fade out, and you moan, throaty and low, into your clenched fist, biting down hard enough to draw blood as you shudder your hips downwards, pushing him into you as you ride out the waves of pleasure that are wracking your body now.

Your head thumps back against the wall as you come down, and Joel stands up to meet you, giving you a boastful smile. He blatantly wipes all evidence of your encounter off of his face and beard, looking at you with such adoration in his dark eyes that it makes your heart swell. Joel tucks a strand of hair behind your ears before kissing you on the forehead.

“Thank you,” you murmur. “Best lunch ever.”

You see Rayna doing her best not to stare at you as you settle back in at your desk, praying that your face isn’t giving you away, that post-orgasm glow hopefully wiped clean off by now.

“Nice lunch?” she asks, chipper as always.

“Mhm,” you say, swinging your voice upwards on the last part, trying to echo her same positive demeanor. You immediately focus your attention down on your computer, trying to get back into the swing of your workday, tugging at the hem of your clothing, making sure everything is properly in place.

In your periphery you see Rayna clench and unclench her fists where they hover above her keyboard, and when you glance up to her eyes, they’re boring into you with an amused sparkle.

“Come on…” she says, eyebrows going up her forehead. “Who was that? Everyone is talking about it.”

“Everyone as in…everyone in the whole office, or everyone as in the usual suspects?” you quip back. The usual suspects being Rayna, obviously, Heather, Cade, and Alex from your department, and Leah and Vince from the financial department. You’d become the most tight knit with them of anyone here, working closely together on a lot of the projects you’d all been assigned to lately.

“The… usual suspects, of course,” Rayna admits, and as if on cue, Heather and Alex filter into the area, carrying mugs of tea from the kitchen.

“Okay, did you ask her yet?” Heather says to Rayna, and her eyes go wide in response.

“I’m trying to,” Rayna says through gritted teeth just as Leah and Vince slip into the room, shortly followed by Alex, all of them seeming to have a similar question. You watch on, amused at how much commotion you and Joel are causing.

“Guys, this is insane,” you chide them all as they gather around you.

“Is that your like… boyfriend or something?” Cade asks, and you avert your eyes, feeling your body heat rise several degrees at their questioning. You had never been trying to hide Joel, you just hadn’t quite gotten that personal with everyone yet. You didn’t know how they’d react to the age difference between you and Joel, so you’d wanted to get to know them a bit better before revealing anything about him. It was safe to say they’d all turned out to be open minded, kind, and never averse to sharing some of their own personal details, so you figured it was time to jump in.

“Y-yeah, I guess you could say that,” you admit shyly, and they all burst into quiet hysterics, murmurs of “told you so’s” and “oh my god’s” between all of them.

“Details!” Leah says demandingly, placing a hand on your desk and leaning forward. Everyone is pulling up chairs, and you start laughing loudly.

“Shouldn’t we be working?”

“Still got five minutes or so left on my lunch, so chop chop,” Cade replies, looking down at his watch impatiently. “He was so hot, and if I don’t get to hear any more about this in the next five minutes I’m going to be so mad at you.”

“Oh-kay. We’re seeing each other. His name is Joel,” you say, eliciting excited “ooh’s” from your little crowd. “That’s literally it! I don’t know what you want from me.” You throw your hands up in a feigned giving up gesture.

“Isn’t he like, old?” Vince says snidely, finally joining the conversation. You like Vince, and for that reason, you hadn’t told anybody about the way he’d pulled you aside for a private conversation and asked you out after about a week of working together. It felt awful to reject him, and at the time you were keeping things quiet about your personal life, so you hadn’t said you were seeing anyone. In hindsight it would have made more sense to just say you were, but you suppose at least he was able to understand a little bit better now about your rejection. It had made things slightly more awkward between you, but you’d been willing to move on if he was. For the most part, it seemed like he had been too, except for a few select moments like right now when you could see the frustration come out.

“I mean, kind of,” you say with a chuckle and a shrug. You decide to ignore his comment and vow to yourself to confront him if it continues.

“Okay, but how old?” Rayna asks, her eyes lighting up with intrigue.

“He’s forty-two,” you reply, and once again, the group is in hysterics over your answer.

“Well, he’s hot,” Leah concludes, and Cade, Rayna, Heather, and even Alex, agree. “Good job,” she adds, garnering more enthusiastic nods from the group.

“T-thank… you?” you say with a laugh.

“Can we all go out for drinks after work? I need to hear more, but my lunch is over,” Rayna says, frowning, and you consider it for a few moments, but realizing you don’t have anything on your agenda tonight, it might be fun to blow off some steam.

“Sure, if everyone else is in,” you reply, and each person, including Vince, who you’d doubted would want to hear more about Joel, agrees to the plan. Leah squeals excitedly and heads back to her desk, full of energy. The rest of the day flies by, all of you seeming to work faster with the promise of a fun evening ahead of you.

All of you funnel into a bar down the street from your office in great spirits, also having invited a few more coworkers to join you. You all order drinks at the bar and settle in, and Rayna instantly links her arm through yours.

“Alright, you know what we’re here for,” she says. The rest of the group who’d been interrogating you earlier quickly gathers around you at a high top table near the bar. The only person you don’t notice at first is Vince, who comes breezing in late, and stands nearby but not as involved in the conversation. You suppose you don’t blame him for not wanting every detail of your relationship with Joel.

“Don’t waste any time, do you guys?” you reply cheekily, and they all sip their drinks, clearly just waiting for you to go on. “What do you even want to know?” you ask, a playful irritation cropping up.

“Anything, like… what’s the deal with you two?

“He lives next to my parents, so that’s how we met. We just kind of clicked, I guess. Which was lucky for me because I was practically obsessed with him.”

“Is he like a sugar daddy or something?” Alex teases, and you laugh, pushing him hard on the arm.

“No, nothing like that. He’s a contractor, so he like, builds stuff.”

“Very sexy,” Cade chimes in, nodding his head in approval.

“It is,” you say with a sigh, picturing the way Joel had looked in his work clothes earlier.

“Well, lucky you. We had no idea you had a boyfriend,” Leah says, downing her mojito faster by the minute. She obviously needed a night out more than the rest of you.

“I didn’t know if I should say… it’s been a little unconventional, I guess. My parents only found out a few weeks ago, and that was weird, since they’re around his age.”

Leah chokes on her drink. “He’s your parents’ age?!”

“My parents are pretty young, yeah. I hadn’t really thought about it too hard when Joel and I first got together, but… uh, oops, I guess,” you reply.

“You dirty little dog,” Leah says, shaking her head and doubling over in laughter. “Well, we’re all really happy for you,” she concludes, smiling more sincerely now.

“Seriously. You caused the biggest stir the office has seen yet, sending a guy like that into our lobby,” Rayna says, fake fanning herself at the memory of Joel.

“He came to see you for lunch today, then? That’s so cute,” Leah says, ever the romantic, her eyes going starry and wide at Joel’s gesture.

“Mhm,” you say nervously, thinking about how you and Joel did much more than eat lunch today. You know they probably would love all the dirty details based on their reactions today, but you just can’t risk anything with how well this job is going so well.

“Well you tell Joel, he can do that any time he wants, but he has to come and say hello next time,” Rayna chirps, and you shake your head, throwing back some of your fruity cocktail.

“I’m sure he’d love to be interrogated by all of you,” you say, dripping in sarcasm.

You all crack jokes and gossip for a while, trying to avoid any work talk, before ordering another round and repeating more of the same. When you’re waiting at the bar for your next drink, Vince sidles up next to you, leaning onto the bar with his forearms.

“If you think people don’t realize what you did today, you’re kidding yourself,” Vince says without warning, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at you.

“What are you talking about?” you ask, trying not to panic and give anything away. While you have a sinking feeling you know exactly what he’s talking about, you don’t want to jump to any conclusions and ruin any secrecy you still have.

“Come on,” Vince replies, shaking his head. “Coming back from lunch, looking like that. Could practically see it all over your face.”

“I’m just… I was happy to see Joel, that’s all. I don’t know if you’re implying what I think you are, but you’d better be careful what you’re accusing me of.” The bartender slides your drink over, and you try to give them a smile and polite thank you before turning your attention back to the conversation.

“No, you’d better be careful,” Vince snaps. “So maybe I did follow you two up there, hoping to see if you’re as lovesick for the guy as I’d been afraid of. Thought I’d see if there was still a chance, it was stupid, I know,” he says a little more softly, before his brow furrows. “But imagine my surprise when I didn’t see you two anywhere, and I heard something from down the hall…” Vince trails off, leaving you to fill in the details.

You pale and freeze instantly, your hand gripping the glass of your cocktail firmly.

“Vince, I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say with a bite - one last, hopeful attempt to deflect his accusations.

His hand moves in a flash and grips your free wrist tightly. “If you’re going to be a whore, at least own up to it,” he says, and you blink hard, your mouth popping open but unable to make any noise for a few stunned moments.

“E-excuse me?”

He simply glances at you, holding a steady gaze. “Just saying,” he says, as if that’s any excuse for the vile words he just spit at you.

“Just saying what? That I’m a whore?” you say with a scornful laugh. It’s almost comical, whatever this side of him is that you’ve uncovered - the drunk, angry side that seems to be coming out of the woodwork this summer with these men. First Chris, now Vince, and you’re starting to wonder just what the hell is going on. Something about Joel seems to bring it out of them, and you’re tired of taking the brunt of it, quite frankly.

“That I could report you to someone. I mean, not the most ethical thing to fuck around with your boyfriend while you’re working.”

You sigh and press your lips tightly together, rubbing a hand over your eyes.

“Okay, so it wasn’t. But it’s not like it hurt anyone, so the fact that you’re sitting here threatening me over it feels a little extreme, don’t you think?”

“Woah, threatening sounds like such a strong word.” Vince lets out a little laugh, and it really pisses you off that he’s getting any sort of entertainment out of your misfortune right now.

“Vince, you’re clearly drunk. You’ve been drinking way more than anyone here, and I get you might still be upset that I didn’t go out with you, but this seems way out of line.”

“Out of line to me would be getting off when you’re at work, but maybe that’s just me…” Vince muses with a head in his hand, still clearly very entertained by himself.

“Alright, I’m leaving,” you say, having decided it doesn’t seem worth the fight at this point. You drop some cash on the bar and pick up your bag, hustling your way out. You notice Leah giving you a concerned glance, but you simply wave at her, silently promising to text them as soon as you can to let them know why you left. You’d kept Vince’s secret before, but this time he’d gone too far, let some dark side of himself come out just to fuck with you, and you didn’t feel like playing nice anymore.

// TW //

The air outside hits you as you burst the door open, thick and warm as the dusk colored light surrounds you in the sky above. You walk with purpose, your feet moving you quickly back the few blocks towards the office where your car is parked - at the least you hope to blow off some steam on the way there. You’re only a few steps from the bar when a hand grabs your wrist and pulls you back, stopping you in your tracks, and you audibly groan when you turn and see Vince looking at you, his blue eyes full of a pleading hope.

“Please, I’m sorry,” he whines, and you try to shake his wrist off. “Just come back inside.”

“Leave me alone, seriously.”

He pulls you close to him by the wrist and you wriggle your hand, trying to slide out of his grip, but it’s too tight. You realize you aren’t quite strong enough to pull him along, so you resort to placing your other hand over his and trying to pry his fingers off of you.

“Let me go,” you say sternly, but Vince doesn't seem to hear you. You feel a wave of nausea roll through you, your body naturally revolting against the situation for you.

“I just… I heard you today, and I knew it was you, I could tell those fucking noises had to be you, and it pissed me off. I was so jealous - I think you’re beautiful, and funny, and smart, and I wanted that to be me.”

You scoff, collecting your thoughts for a moment. “Well, it’s not, and I’m awfully sorry about that,” you say, dripping your voice in sarcasm. “Doesn’t mean you get to treat me like shit.”

He places his other hand over the one that’s actively trying to pry you off of him and wraps his fingers around it. “Should’ve been me,” he says before swinging you against the brick of the building, your back hitting it hard despite trying to stop the movement on your heels. The element of surprise had been on his side and you wince as your back throbs. “Wanted to hear those sounds for myself, because of me… just give me a chance.”

Vince crushes his lips into yours, his tongue sloppily begging for entry into your mouth, and you grunt loudly, jerking your head to the side so that his lips are off yours, but he continues kissing your face, trying to trail down to your neck.

“You’re fucking drunk, just let me leave.” You scowl hard but it turns to a panicked grimace as he crowds in even closer, the smell of alcohol on his breath overwhelming you as he continues trying to kiss you, grinding his body into you. When his fingers brush the hem of your shirt, you find your senses again, realizing it’s now or never. You shove him off of you as hard as you can, kicking a leg into his, and he stumbles back in his drunken stupor.

You slide out from the wall and start to dig in your purse as you quickly move away, looking for your phone. You knew you should have started carrying pepper spray again, you’d just not thought to replace the one you lost in your move to Austin yet, and a silent curse goes through you for that now. Your legs are shaking underneath you, not moving you as quickly as you want, and you feel tears pricking at your eyes as the adrenaline fades slightly.

// END TW //

“Hey, asshole!” you suddenly hear, and you glance over your shoulder to see Leah chasing Vince who is chasing you down. She grabs him by the shoulder and he whirls around on her, sending her stumbling back now, but you rush back to help before he can potentially hurt her. “What the fuck!” she yells as she pushes Vince off of her. He stops moving, breathing heavily with his hands on his knees.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, seeming to snap out of whatever insanity he’d entered moments ago. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

“That was fucked up, you know. I felt like something was off, so I came out here to check on you, and I just saw everything,” Leah says angrily, taking a few steps back from Vince. You go to Leah, gripping her arm with your trembling hands and looking her over.

“You okay?” you ask her quietly, and she nods, not taking her eyes off of Vince.

“What the hell do we do about this?” she asks, gesturing to Vince, who now is whining loudly about how sorry he is.

“Fuck if I know,” you say, your mind still reeling from the hellish interaction with him.

“Vince, you should just go home. Cool off for a bit then call an Uber or something,” Leah suggests, a bit more even tempered this time.

He looks at you, making spotty eye contact before mouthing your name. “Sorry, really. I don’t - fuck. I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I?”

“Everything meaning what I thought was starting to be a nice friendship? Yes. Consider that over,” you tell him, feeling somewhat heartless for the comment, but needing him to fully understand there isn’t a chance you’d want to continue any kind of relationship with him.

He meanders over to and sits on a curb nearby. “I get it,” he says back at you two, and Leah puts an arm around you protectively.

“Vince, we’re leaving you, maybe you can sober up and talk some more about it, but for now… just… fucking leave it, okay?” Leah says, guiding you back inside the bar. You finally feel your heart rate slowing as she rubs your shoulder, checking in on you with a concerned look on her face.

“I’ll be alright,” you assure her with a weak smile. The amount of processing your mind is trying to get through right now has you nearly feeling dizzy.

“I’m going to talk to Rayna, we’ll take care of everything, make sure you don’t have to work with that asshole again.”

Your entire face softens at her proposition and the care behind it. You throw your arms around her, squeezing her tightly into a hug that she returns with equal enthusiasm. “Thank you,” you murmur into her shoulder.

“Who should we call? Joel?” she asks, pulling out of the hug, and your eyes go wide, realizing you’ll have to explain all of this to Joel. “I don’t want you to drive right now, but we’re all way too tipsy to drive you anywhere right now.”

“Y-yeah, I’ll call him,” you say, swallowing hard. Leah steps away to give you privacy and heads back to the table full of your coworkers, close enough to keep an eye on you. You can see the immediate reaction from all of them, leaning in close as she explains what’s going on. You take out your phone, pulling up Joel’s contact information.

“Hey, baby.” He picks up on the second ring, his voice smooth and relaxed as he greets you, the juxtaposition to your own mood making you clam up suddenly.

“Hey…” you say timidly. Use your words, you chant to yourself internally.

“What’s goin’ on? You off work?”

“Uh, yeah, I am. I just… can you come get me?”

“Of course,” he says without missing a beat, his tone sobering up to match yours a bit more. “What’s wrong, darlin’?”

“There was… something happened with a coworker, and I’m kind of tipsy, I just can’t drive right now.”

“Already on my way,” he says, and you hear his keys jingling in the background as he opens the door to his car and starts it. “What happened? Please, sweetheart, talk to me ‘fore I go crazy with wonderin’.”

“He… tried to come on to me. I-I don’t know what he was going to do to me…” you say, feeling robotic as the words come out of you.

“What. Happened.” Joel’s voice is at an angry staccato now, and you can picture his hands gripping the wheel tightly as he panics at your words.

“N-nothing did happen. Just a close call. Hurt my back a little bit, I think,” you tell him, feeling the ache in your back reminding you just how hard Vince had handled you at one point.

“Fucking hell, baby,” Joel says with a deep sigh. “I’m comin’ to you. Are you somewhere safe?”

You nod, your eyes feeling hazy and tired all of a sudden, then remember he can’t see you right now. “Yes, I’m safe. I’m inside with everyone else.”

“Good. Stay there ‘til I can get to you. Send me the address, baby, okay? I’m comin’,” Joel says.

“O-okay,” you say quietly, ending the call and texting Joel the name of the bar as quickly as you can.

Your coworkers comfort you in the meantime, seconding Leah’s promise that you won’t have to see Vince anymore. They’re all dumbstruck, not having seen it coming that he could act like that, but you just shrug, wondering if there were some red flags you’d missed trying to be a kind, welcoming person to him.

Joel pulls up in his truck in record time, tires screeching in front of the bar. He texts you that he’s arrived and you go out the door but freeze when you see Vince still sitting on the curb. Joel tries waving you over as he gets out of his truck, but he follows your eyeline to Vince and you sense his energy change immediately, even from afar. Vince scrambles up, clearly having sobered up in the last half hour or so as he sat here feeling sorry for himself. When he sees Joel, he fills in the blanks that you’ve told him what happened, and realizes just how intimidatingly big Joel is up close.

“Is this the one?” he asks, cocking his head and not taking his eyes off of Vince, who is now slowly backing away.

“Shit, I - I didn’t mean to hurt anyone, I’m stupid and drunk, s-swear,” he sputters out before you can even answer. Joel doesn’t back down, reaching Vince more quickly than he’s expecting and grabbing him by the shirt collar.

“You see that fucking girl over there? Hm?” Joel says, using his other hand to grab Vince’s chin and point his head in your direction. You stand, teeth grinding together anxiously as you watch this unfold in front of you. “Don’t you ever fuckin’ talk to her again, or even think ‘bout her, for that matter. You leave her the hell alone. You got it?” Joel forcefully turns Vince’s head back to look him in the eye.

Vince gulps visibly and closes his eyes as they meet Joel’s, nodding. “Jesus man, just let me go. All I did was try to talk to her.” Vince squeals as Joel’s grip tightens on him. You feel yourself tense with anger at his lie, knowing that things could have gotten much worse if you hadn’t landed that kick on him and gotten away when you did, or if Leah hadn’t shown up to check on you.

“We both know that ain’t true,” Joel tuts. “She owes you absolutely fuckin’ nothin’, don’t forget that. In case you get any ideas again,” Joel says, releasing both of his hands and letting Vince fall back.

“C’mon, darlin’. Let’s get out of here,” Joel says, his voice completely changed, soft and warm in your direction as he rushes over and takes you into his arms, guiding you to his car. You shoot a last, bitter glance at Vince, who is running his hand through his hair, turning to walk away. The frustration he has at himself is clearly visible in the way he’s carrying himself now. You almost want to feel sorry for him, knowing he made such a big mistake, and he does seem to regret it. But you can’t feel that sorry when you know he was stopped short, not knowing just how far he would’ve gone to get what he was searching for tonight. Maybe he was more sorry he got caught, you wonder. You sigh, shaking your head at the sight of him before climbing into Joel’s truck. Good fucking riddance.

Joel speeds off, hands gripping the wheel tightly as you cruise down the highway, back towards his house. You finally feel the pure disappointment of the situation sink in on you, heavy and burdensome on your soul.

“I said nothing happened… but that’s not true. He tried to kiss me,” you say. “Well, he did, I guess. He did kiss me. And tried…my shirt…” you trail off, feeling your eyes glaze over a little as you try to recount every detail of what went down, finding that it’s making you feel immediately sick.

Joel’s body tenses even further next to you, so tight that you worry he might snap at any moment. “S’okay, baby. It’s all over now,” he says, amazingly calm and controlled for the way his body language is screaming the very opposite. You resort to staring out the window for the duration of the drive back, watching the familiar sights as you enter into the suburbs, finding a small comfort in the routine of it all.

He brings you inside of your apartment instead of his house, immediately getting you settled on your bed. He starts to dig through your drawers, muttering to himself.

“Where is it…” he says quietly, before finally pulling out a white shirt, then grabbing a pair of pajama shorts.

“Alright, let’s put these on, okay?” Joel says, handing you the t-shirt of his he gave you weeks ago, the Texas Longhorns one you love so much. You grip it to your chest and feel the ghost of a smile on your lips for the first time in what feels like hours.

You change out of your work clothes and into the pajamas Joel had brought over to you, already feeling a sliver better just having some of your comfort clothing hugging your body now. The shirt had long since stopped smelling like Joel, but the presence of him emanating from it was more than enough. Joel sits down gingerly next to you, snuggling you into his chest.

“What do you need, baby? Anything at all,” he says quietly, the deep rumble of his chest near you another comforting balm to your weariness.

“Just… be here with me. That was so… fucking scary. I’m so angry, but I also… feel like I can’t even feel anything right now. Why did he…?” You exhale long and slow. “Did I miss some sign that this would happen? Was I too busy trying to be fucking nice to him? Trying to be agreeable with everyone at work when he’d make comments?”

“No, of course not, darlin’. You’re a sweet girl, you are. But that ain’t what brought this on. That’s all on him,” Joel assures you, shaking his head in frustration at the situation.

“He asked me out, Joel. Weeks ago. I said no, of course,” you start, shooting Joel an affirming glance. “He’s made some comments since then, nothing crazy. I thought he’d moved on from it, but sometimes he’d… take things too far. Comments about my looks, what I was wearing. I shouldn’t have ignored it.”

“It’s not on you to decide all of that. He was the one who did it, not you. Best not to analyze yourself to death, we’d be here all night pickin’ it all apart, wouldn’t we? Let’s just focus on movin’ on, gettin’ you feelin’ better for right now.” Joel holds you for a few moments before shifting where he sits.

“Want me to run you a bath? Get you somethin’ to eat? Watch shitty TV with you? Anything, please, baby, I’m at a loss here.” Joel holds you tightly, seemingly afraid to let go of his grip on you, worried if he does, the fragile thing he’s seeing you as right now will fall apart completely.

“It’s okay, Joel. You don’t always have to have all the answers,” you say, smiling a little at how hard he’s trying right now. “You already did so much - coming to get me, being there for me right now. Thank you.”

“Oh, you’re welcome darlin’,” Joel says. “Why don’t you shower, and I’ll get this bed all ready for us to watch some Lover’s Paradise, how’s that sound?”

You crack another much needed smile and tell him it sounds great, heading to the bathroom to take an overly hot shower, trying to scrub the frustration off of your body as you let the hot water pummel your skin. Joel was right, you do feel better after stepping out of the steamy bathroom all lotioned up in your favorite scent and back in his t-shirt, opting to go without the shorts this time. You’ve found that you feel sexiest in just his shirt like this, and you’re feeling the need for some of that confidence right now.

“Look at ya, all fresh and pretty,” Joel says with a playful wink, and you practically launch yourself at him where he lays propped up on your bed, latching yourself onto his body, wrapping your limbs around him as much as possible.

“I grabbed snacks, sorry for raidin’ your cabinets,” Joel says, showing you the things he’d pulled from your growing candy and sweets collection. You snatch the Twizzlers bag from his hand and pull one out, munching at it absentmindedly as Joel flicks the TV back to life, having already pulled up an episode of Lover’s Paradise for you two.

“This is all perfect Joel, thank you,” you say, looking up from where your head rests at the crook of his neck to find his eyes.

“You feelin’ any better?” he asks.

You nod with a small smile, finding that the sting from tonight has lessened a bit with all of his care. Joel lets you just be - eating candy and throwing comments at the screen while you two watch animatedly, laughing at all the romantic drama the contestants find themselves entangled in.

“Remember the first time we did this, first time I came over here?” Joel asks suddenly into your silence after you’ve finished two episodes.

“Mhm,” you mutter sleepily, nodding into his chest.

“Knew you’d ruin me for sure that night,” he says with a small chuckle. “When we said we’d stay on each other’s minds, promised to keep doin’ all this. I was done for.”

“I knew the minute I saw you mowing your stupid lawn,” you say with a laugh shared by Joel. “So fucking hot,” you murmur, shaking your head at the memory.

“You thought so? Maybe I was puttin’ on a little show for you,” Joel says cheekily.

“Knew it, nobody looks that good mowing their lawn unless it’s to impress somebody,” you reply, tracing a hand down Joel’s torso. You place a few kisses onto his chest with the fabric of his t-shirt in the way, and your hand snakes even lower to his belt line, fiddling with his waistband tantalizingly.

“Baby... Never wanna say no to ya, but I think you should just rest tonight. Look at you, barely keepin’ your eyes open right now.”

Joel’s right, you are half asleep, but right now you just want to feel good. You know he can give that to you in an instant, he can turn your world upside down with his fingers or tongue or cock, and you’ll forget all about the shit that went down tonight. He could give that to you, but you know that after it’s all said and done, you’ll still have to process all the emotions you’re feeling, so you opt to simply nod your head in agreement with Joel.

“Fine. First thing tomorrow, though. Want you to make me feel good,” you say quietly, your face smushed into his chest.

“Promise, baby, first thing this cock is all yours,” Joel replies with an amused chuckle. “Don’t think you know what you’re askin’ for,” he adds quickly with a lower, darker tone. You pause, realizing that Joel is asking for consent in his own way, making sure what he has in mind is alright so that he doesn’t cross any boundaries you aren’t willing to. You feel a swell of pride and respect that he wants to do that for you, especially after what happened tonight.

“I know exactly what I’m asking for,” you reply, and Joel’s lips curl up into a devious smile.

And so you begin counting the minutes until you can sleep, knowing what awaits you when you wake is going to be very worth the wait.

taglist: @paleidiot @mumma-moonchild @soph55 @chicville03 @joelsversion @feliciab1990 @fellinfromthetop @gossipgirl-03 @sarap-77 @blueseastorm

sorry some of the tags were being weird i tried my best i’m kinda new to tag lists! message to let me know if yours didn’t work i’m sorry!

#TY FOR YOUR PATIENCE LOVE U ALL #fic: closer #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader

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yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 8 months

Text

Love me or hate me, both are in my favor (Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader [HS Academic Rivals AU])

Hiii! New day new chapter! Sorry it took so long to get out, my birthday is in Sunday so I’ve been busy. Not proofread, enjoy!

Cursing, slight mentions of wounds.

Word count: 2k

Series Masterlist Series playlist

Chapter 8: No, I don't wanna fall in love with you.

—

Swinging around the city always helped clear Miguel's head, finding it very calming compared to the very chaotic hustle and bustle of Neuva York. From the top of the Empire State, everyone looked like ants, and it gave him the ability to de-mask himself without the possibility of anyone finding him. It was one of the many perks of being Spider-Man, the ability to hide away above the rest of the world.

Although, usually the breathtaking skyline against orange and pink hues that painted the sky was enough to serve as a temporary distraction before he had to return to his usual routine, but it seems that today’s events were too much for his mind to just drop. With a heavy sigh, he ran his gloved hand through his now slightly disheveled brown locks, gripping his mask with his free hand.

God…

As if you hadn't already dug some sort of permanent spot into his life, now you were completely messing with his mind without even knowing it.

He shouldn’t have kissed you back. Not because he didn’t want to, because if he was being completely honest with himself… maybe he did. But, you’ve never liked him, you’ve never liked Miguel. He’s convinced himself his whole life that he disliked you, not just because of your constant battle at attempting to one up each other grade wise, but because you both were far too stubborn and egotistical to be able to sit in a room with each other without squabbling. He’s never been partially nice to you, sure, but neither have you to him. He hated you.

Right?

He wasn’t so sure anymore. But he knew for certain how you felt about him. You loved Spider-Man, not Miguel. And although he knows he’s being a bit selfish, and only going to hurt himself in the process, he was gonna keep it that way. He’d take all the snarky comments and glares you shoot his way, if it meant being able to kiss you again. He’d shatter the entire universe in his bare hands if it meant for you to keep kissing him the way that you did.

—

“O’Hara, hey- are you deaf now or something?” Your hand landing on his shoulder pulls him out from his thoughts, he’s been in them more often than usual lately he glanced over his shoulder to send you a quick glare before turning back down at his notebook. His eyes scan over the words on the page but none of them registered in his mind. He felt your finger tapped on his shoulder. “You can’t keep ignoring me. We have to work on this project, you know.” You huffed quietly, your eyes drifting from the back of his head, to the front of the class to make sure the teacher wasn’t watching and back again. “You’ve been skipping out on practice.” This was the second time today you’ve tried to get him to talk to you, and still he doesn’t give you anything but a glare, the cold shoulder, it was insufferable. The biggest thorn in your side had decided to just remove itself at the worst time, two weeks away from the presentation of the scene project.

With a huff, you sat fully in your seat once more and looked back down at your own book. Just deciding to attempt to catch him after class again, but the more the time ticked away the more your agitation towards him grew. This was somewhat odd behavior for him. He hasn’t flat out ignored you since you had been in the 7th grade, the most you’ve gotten out of him as of recent is his usual glare or scowl. You’d never admit to his face, but him ignoring, it almost felt like torture. You have no idea what you did for him to suddenly give you the cold shoulder, a week ago at the aquarium before your sudden graze with death, you had thought that you both somewhat gotten along for once. Now he goes out of his way to dodge you in the halls or leave your texts on read, you couldn’t help but feel that same small sinking feeling in your chest that you felt when you first tried talking to him in the 6th grade only for him to scoff and turn up his nose at you. If it weren’t for the fact you had to work on this stupid project together, you probably wouldn’t be so persistent.

Or, at least that’s what your telling yourself.

—

8:45pm.

Miguel was currently an hour and 15 minutes late to yours and his study session, not like he showed anymore anyways. At least he could justify the nagging voice in the back of his brain telling him to go to your dorm by telling himself that patrolling was a better use of his time and resources, and way less of a headache then having to deal with you when you’re pissed off.

Thankfully, the streets of Neuva York were relatively calm, no crazy mastermind villains trying to take over the world, just a few pity crimes here and there, not enough for him to actually break a sweat but just enough to not be able to call it a night just yet. Small vandalism, an attempted mugging, helping an elderly lady cross the road, small more simpler tasks. With each one ignoring the small inconsistent yet slightly irritating buzzing that his phone was releasing in his suit pocket.

11 missed calls, and 24 unseen messages. His gloved thumb slowly scrolled through the preview of the messages as he took a small break on top of a random counter rooftop, his free hand pulling his mask up to just above his nose before going to grab the BLT sandwich from the bodega and taking a bite out of it. Each chew and swallow becomes slower the more he nears finishing the sandwich. Telling himself he’d finally suck it up and face the music, the migraine inducing headache that was your scolding.

As he downs the last bite, he clicks on your contact, finger itching to hit the call button.

“Help!”

“Shit…” He mumbled to himself as he quickly pulled himself up on his feet, stashing his phone away once more before his mask was back over his mouth.

He’ll call you afterwards, he tells himself.

—

9:38pm.

He flaked. Again.

“I’m not surprised, still disappointed though.” You mumble to yourself as you go to change out of your school clothes and into a nice pair of sweats and a sleeping shirt, placing your headphones on to listen to some music, it’s still early enough so you decided to get some reading in. Stretching your arms over your head, before going over to your bookshelf, your fingernails tapping the spine of each book until you reach the one you wanted to read.

Setting back into your bed, after turning off your overhead light and turning on your lamp instead, you finally open up on the page that you left off.

“Now you must have a good long holiday!”

“I intend to.”

Something in his resolute tone made Jo look up quickly to find him looking down at her with an expression that assured her the dreaded moment had come, and made her put out her hand with an imploring, “No, Teddy. Please don’t!”

“I will, and you must hear me. It’s no use, Jo, we’ve got to have it out, and the sooner the better for both of us,” he answered, getting flushed and excited all at one.

Tap tap.

“Say what you like then, I’ll listen,” said Jo, with a desperate sort of patience.

Laurie was a young lover but he was in earnest, and meant to ‘have it out’, if he died in the attempt, so he plunged into the subject with characteristic impetuousity, saying in a voice that would get choke now and then, in spite of manful efforts to keep it steady…

Tap tap.

“I’ve loved you ever since I’ve known you, Jo, couldn’t help it, you've been so good to me. Now I’m going to make you hear, and give me an answer, for I can’t go on so any longer.”

“I wanted to save you this-“

Tap tap.

“Is someone throwing rocks at my window or something?” You quickly close your book after rebookmarking your page, trying to wave off the idea, your on one of the higher levels of the building. So being able to accurately hit the window over and over would be difficult.

Placing your book on the side of your bed, you get up and go to draw your curtains back, only to be met with a familiar blue and red mask popping up in your window pane. Your brows shot up and biting back the urge to let out a small startled yelp, your hands made quick work to unlock your window and open it up to allow him to climb in, trying his best to not knock over all the trinkets on your bedside table. Trying your best to stifle your laugh as you watch him crawl all over the tiny surface like a cat.

“I didn’t realize we were at that level, Spider-Man.” You joked, letting a small chuckle slip past your lips as he finally stumbled onto his feet and off the counter. Your laughs only increased as you watched the red lines on his mask narrow as he seemingly glared at you.

“Says the one who kissed me.”

“Touché.” You said only you were able to eventually stop laughing, allowing your eyes to finally scan over him. Your face quickly contouring into one of concern when you finally noticed the large tear on the side of his left hip, along with a bleeding bash. You must have not noticed it by the way he was bending over. Your hand flys to cover your mouth as you stare at it, it wasn’t life threatening, but it sure as hell looked painful. “Oh my god, what happened!?”

“Oh this? Pff, it’s nothing” His left hand goes to cover the gash from your view as his right hand goes to wave the question of, his tone nonchalantly as if he had just gotten a paper cut. Now it’s your turn to glare at him.

“Can you let me help you patch it up at least?” You asked, but you were already guiding him to sit on your half done bed. “I’m not a medic or anything, but I can at least clean it up so it doesn’t get infected.” You added, going towards your bathroom to search for your first aid kid that all the dorms had.

Once you found the kit, and didn’t hear any protest from the spider, you made your way down to your knees to his left and began to clean up the wound, murmuring a silent apology when he winced from the rubbing alcohol making context with the wound.

“…You must get tired of having to always clean yourself up and restitch your suit all the time huh?” You finally broke the silence,tossing the blood and alcohol soaked cotton in your small trash can.

“It’s…yeah, sorry about, badgering in and stuff, I wouldn’t have stopped by if I didn’t think I couldn’t make it home.” His admission made your heart sink a bit, but it wasn’t completely true, his building was another few minutes of a swing from yours, and his brother always helped him clean up after a nasty fight.

Miguel just wanted an excuse to see you and talk to you again.

“You’ve saved my life twice, Spider-Man. You are always welcome to stop by if you need help.” You tell him ernstly as you wiped off the last bit of blood off his hip, before going to place wrapping on the area.

“Thank you…” He whispered, his tone just as gentle as it was the first time he spoke to you when he reassured you he wouldn’t let you go.

“Of course.”

—

Taglist: @famouscattale @oharasfilipinawife @mxltifxnd0m @loser-alert @homewreckingwreck @dumb-gemini @cowboylikeevie @thedevax @codenameredkrystalmatrix

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara au #spiderman 2099 x reader #astv miguel #astv spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderverse #love me or hate me fanfic #academic rivals au #atsv miguel #miguel ohara spiderman #miguel ohara #miguel fanfic #miguel x reader

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menlove · 2 months

Note

Sorry if you’ve been asked this already, but do you have any mclennon fic recs for 1967/pepper era?? I’m obsessed with the vibes around this time, and with Jane away John and Paul seemed to spend a lot of their free time during this period together, but I’ve had trouble finding much of anything. Thx!! <3

oooh good question ! i love love love the 1967/pepper era so let me look back in my ao3 history and see what i've got

these aren't all pepper's era, but they are all 1967 (w the exception of One that's not 67 but Is pepper's). put a 💖 next to ones i especially love

If You'll Shut Up About It, I Will

mature. au. 4k

The day after his birthday, Paul McCartney admits on national television that he's illegally had sex with men. On multiple occasions. But it's the media's responsibility not to spread these things, isn't it? Unfortunately (or fortunately), someone else is watching the broadcast, and wants to know why Paul has decided to declare he's queer to all and sundry when he's the one who's been waiting for Paul to give it a go. AKA, That LSD Interview but make it gayer. note: very interesting, short little au on if paul had come out as having had queer sex rather than having done lsd

you know i know when it's a dream

mature. 5k. In 1967, The Beatles visited Greece with the plan of purchasing an island they could call home. Of course, it was mostly John's idea. note: angsty, smutty little one-shot that hurt my heart

1967 💖

mature. 11.5k. au. In 1961, John Lennon and Paul McCartney left abruptly on a trip to Spain, via France. In 1967, they finally come home to face the consequences. note: not EXACTLY what you're looking for but hey the year is in the title..... but it's sooo good i'll rec this fic constantly. they do definitely have the same aesthetic that they did in real life 1967 too. but this one is so fucking good. it's got an experimental style that lets you see everyone's pov while still remaining really well written which imo is hard to do when you're doing a bunch of pov switches. but it's outsider perspective mclennon & explores the nuances of their relationship and how it was/wasn't impacted by fame and how they'd still be creative with each other if they'd never gotten famous from the beatles...... also they basically create the muppets which i think makes this worth reccing on its own tbh

The Places Where You Bend

mature. 2.6k. "Whatever the opposite of 'toppermost of the poppermost' might be, we're in it up to our asses." It's 1967, all hell is breaking loose, and Paul doesn't know if he can do this anymore. note: ugh i loved this one. it's angsty, as any beginning-of-the-end-of-their-relationship fic is, but it's sooo them and very bittersweet

Stop all the clocks 💖

mature. 30.8k. au. For the following kink meme prompt: ‘1967. After Brian dies, Paul decides not to go ahead with MMT, and takes John up to Scotland for a month instead.’ Also based on the following comment on said prompt: ‘pls someone let them fuck tenderly in 1967’ note: definitely an instant classic! super sweet au that makes you wish life had gone this way for them

Way Up Top 💖

explicit. 12k. Falling out of the sky, together. | Snapshots of the Beatles in Greece, July 1967 note: one of my all-time faves ughhhhhh i just love how they wrote everyone. like ofc the mclennon is great, but this one is so so good for just all around good characterization and writing

always, no sometimes 💖

explicit. 20k. Stolen moments from a single year. Or: four times someone nearly found John and Paul together, and the one time they found each other. Set around the recording of Sgt. Pepper, 1966. note: not 1967, but 100000% the vibe you're looking for. such a good fic. i honestly need to do a re-read bc it's been long enough, but this one was just. augh. so much mustache sex too.

shotgunning

explicit. 3.4k From the kink meme prompt: john/paul, shotgunning weed note: i don't Think this one has a year on it officially, but it definitely fits the vibe you're looking for!

Drop Chute

explicit. 1.9k. paul/robert as well "Paul does coke off Robert's dick and blows him in a public toilet. John is in the neighbouring stall and hates it." FFA asked and I delivered. note: ahhhh we love a good "john getting jealous of paul fucking other men" fic

again

explicit. 1.3k In the summer of ‘67, Paul knows exactly how lucky he is to be the man who gets to fuck John, and then eat him out, and then fuck him again, and then — note: it's smut and it's good smut what else can i say truly

Club Sandwich

mature. 4k. Some drug-fueled party in 1967. Paul ends up sandwiched between two men on the couch. As they start fondling and kissing him, John stumbles upon the scene… note: absolutely great. possessiveness and coke prince paul...... what else could i want from a fic

Carousel 💖

explicit. 3.4k 21 March, 1967. John accidentally drops acid during the mixing of Sgt Pepper. Paul drives him back to Cavendish and decides to take LSD for the first time. Based on true events. John's POV. note: definitely my favorite take on the "john and paul tripping together for the first time" story. so good and introspective.

you can get it wrong (and still think you're right)

explicit. 7.4k. Paul visits John at Weybridge. January, 1967. The laziest man in England, that article had said, and Paul thought suddenly of John, lounging: John, turning the pages of a book with one languid hand, his hair mussed and fetching, making pithy comments to empty rooms. Or maybe he didn’t speak at all when he was alone; Paul realized that he didn’t know anymore. note: aghhhh another great one by stonedlennon. the bittersweetness of their relationship.... love this one a lot tbh

Angles

explicit. 2.7k. John takes another languid drag of his cigarette, his eyes alight now when they look into the lens, meeting Paul's. He's a marvellous subject. They should put him in every movie. "That it?" Paul asks—leading. Hungry. "You're the director. Give us a direction," John goads him. note: looove this one. but all of moeexyz's fics are so good so that's to be expected tbh

an orgasm of sound 💖

explicit. 5.3k “It was a good piece of work between Paul and me. I had the ‘I read the news today’ bit, and it turned Paul on, because now and then we really turn each other on with a bit of song, and he just said ‘yeah’ – bang bang, like that.” — John Lennon Or, John and Paul work on A Day in the Life. note: another great one from moeexyz! this one is..... well. Well. it's very good. what more could i ask for in life than piano sex and a day in the life

#mclennon #fic recs #i went all the way back in my history for this to when i started reading fics for them asjdfasdf #did make me realize there's like. genuinely not a lot from that era which is crazy #may have to rectify this one day w one of my own but tbh i've got no ideas so JFASJDFASDF #but yeah these are all 1967 w the one exception which is still peppers but they dont all fit the #summer of love vibes some are more angsty as theyre late 67 or the greece trip #man.... not enough mustache fucking writing going on :/

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apomaro-mellow · 3 months

Text

Mafia AU 10

Part 9

Eddie’s determination was renewed after sleeping on a bed that wasn’t lumpy and sheets that weren’t stained. If this was what he and Wayne had to look forward to, then it was all worth. It was almost a struggle to get out of bed, but the events of the previous night caught up to his half awake brain and he hopped out to meet up with Steve. He left his room to knock on Steve’s and was met with a sleepy omega.

Steve’s hair, normally coiffed like a magazine model, flopped over his forehead. He rubbed at one of his eyes and yawned. For a moment, Eddie forgot what he was here for. Had he woken Steve up? What time was it even?

“Didn’t realize I ordered a wake up call”, Steve said, somehow having enough wit while still waking up.

“I uh, I just wanted to check on you. Are you…okay?”

The bruise on his face had fully formed, but it wasn’t that bad. Enough to make people give a second glance for the wrong reason but in this business, Steve could’ve gotten it from anywhere. Not everyone would automatically assume his father.

Steve stared at him for a moment before answering. “I’m fine. I’ve taken hits before.”

“From him? Sorry”, Eddie added quickly. “I shouldn’t pry, it’s none of my business.”

“You’ve already burst through the doors of my dad’s study. It’s a little late for none of your business.” Steve leaned against his doorway. His eyes glazed over Eddie’s body, though the alpha didn’t notice, trying not to look him in the eye. “A capo is also a confidant. You would have found out sooner or later. And sooner is better. Breakfast is being served in ten minutes. Meet you downstairs.”

Steve closed the door and turned to put his back against it. He waited to hear Eddie walk away before letting out a sigh. Did that man even know what he did to him? Steve had answered the door, thinking Robin would be there. Instead, he was met with a shirtless alpha, covered in tattoos he had never seen, standing there all casual like he wasn’t rocking Steve’s world.

He looked down between his legs, the traitorous thing. He needed to get it together before going downstairs otherwise Eddie would smell him coming a mile away. It really didn’t help that he knew how soft those lips were now and he’d been surrounded by the cidery scent. He got dressed, checking himself over in the mirror to see if he needed to cover up anything. The bruise wasn’t doing him any favors, but it shouldn’t get in the way of business.

If anything, an associate seeing him like this would congratulate his father for disciplining him. He came down in a turtleneck and slacks and saw Eddie wandering around, wearing the same clothes as last night, sans jacket.

“For the record, we don’t walk around this place without a shirt”, Steve said.

“Hey, I got myself all fixed up”, Eddie gestured to his wrinkled shirt and pants.

“We’ll have to get you a wardrobe set up here.” He hadn’t thought about what Eddie could wear when he invited him to stay the night. Briefly he entertained the idea of letting Eddie borrow some of his own clothes. The idea of Eddie carrying his scent made him dizzy.

Robin joined them for breakfast on the veranda. She immediately grilled him on the bruise and what had happened last night and why Eddie was here so early but thankfully did so fully in Italian. He was none the wiser because Robin had the brilliant idea to give him a codename so that he wouldn’t hear ‘Eddie’ float out amongst the words he didn’t know. He was clearly trying to follow it though, eyes ping-ponging between him and Robin as they spoke.

A man came out to them near the end of breakfast, also speaking Italian but only directly to Steve. Only when he left did they start speaking English.

“Today I’m to oversee a meeting with the visiting Provenza family”, Steve said.

“Looks like your dad still trusts you after last night”, Robin noted, then grinned at Eddie.

Eddie looked away while sipping the last of his coffee. He didn’t need to know Italian to know that Steve had probably told her everything. He only wondered how it sounded from Steve’s perspective. How had he come off during it all?

“More like he doesn’t speak Italian. And doesn’t want to speak through a translator the whole time”, Steve said.

“So your dad doesn’t know a lick of Italian?”, Eddie asked.

Steve shook his head. As a kid, he hadn’t thought of it much, but now that he was older he saw it for what it was. Not just a refusal to learn something that would make him exponentially better at the job, but also a selfish act in itself. He never shared in his wife’s language. Steve really wondered how his father tricked his mother into marrying him.

Eddie couldn’t understand not making an attempt in such a long time. The man had to have met an Italian girl, romanced her, gotten married, had a child, then raised that child, all while not trying to learn her language. What neither Robin nor Steve knew was that Eddie had picked up a phrase book a week ago.

The meeting was a lunch one at noon and in the meantime, Steve insisted on Eddie wearing his clothes to it while the alpha’s were laundered. When Eddie put them on, he ventured a sniff, bringing the jacket up to his nose. He let out a quiet rumble. It was no small thing, for Steve to offer this. And he was willing to bet money that Steve was thinking about the same thing.

It was all but confirmed when he revealed himself and he watched Steve’s eyes roam over his body. Steve was leaning against the car. Eddie double checked to make sure there wasn’t a driver waiting on them. He was glad to see that they were completely alone.

“You want everyone to know I’m yours?”, Eddie asked.

“Everyone already should”, Steve said with a shrug. “Now can I trust you to drive us today, or will my virtue be in danger again?”

“Oh, you little asshole. Last night, you were the one egging me on the whole time”, Eddie leaned into his space, lips curling up.

“Who me? I’m innocent…And there’s nothing little about it”, he winked before getting into the back seat.

Eddie took a deep breath but Steve’s scent was still strong on him, so even though he was outside, that didn’t really help things. He got into the driver’s seat and took them to the restaurant Steve had told him about. When they arrived and were escorted to their table, the others were already there, thankfully saving them from a repeat of last night.

The lunch meeting started, all of it fully in Italian as expected. Eddie stood nearby the table, hands clasped in front of them. He was honestly drifting in and out of the conversation since he couldn’t really follow it in the first place. But just as he was drifting in, he caught the word ‘dog’ when the main Provenza gestured to him. Steve’s neutral expression turned into something fierce. He said something much too quickly for Eddie to have a hope in catching and threw his napkin on the table in indignation.

The person he was talking to looked properly chastised and apologetic, and the conversation continued as normal. When they finished up, Eddie walked out with Steve, the omega picking up a paper bag from the hostess up front. He handed it to Eddie.

“Your lunch.”

“Thanks”, Eddie said, bewildered to say much else.

“Just don’t eat in the car”, Steve warned.

Eddie ended up waiting until they were back at the estate, where Steve led the way into the hedge maze and they reached the middle and sat on one of the benches.

“How much do you know about my family history?”, Steve asked as Eddie dug into the pasta Steve had acquired for him.

“Heard pretty much all of it from Robin, I think”, Eddie answered.

“Well, now I think it’s time you’ve heard some of it from me.”

Part 11

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #omegaverse #a/b/o

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werewolf-cl4ws · 23 days

Text

Sonsally Week 2024: Day 3 - Clothes

This one took a turn. It's an obvious theme with my AU but when it hits it's like "Oh I got angst in my fluff".

So I guess trigger warning for body image issues. Same deal as before taking place in my AU TimeSkip era.

“I’ve just been thinking.”

“When are you ever not thinkin’, Sal?” Sonic pointed out.

“I have to do a lot of compensating because of one of us not doing any,” Sally sighed, unable to resist rolling her eyes at the hedgehog.

“Uh huh.”

“Anyway I was thinking now that you’re joining us on missions again, you should probably get some more suitable clothes for them,” Sally stated.

Sonic tilted his head at Sally, then looked down at himself, eye brows furrowed with genuine confusion.

“What’s wrong wit’ wha’ I’m wearin’?” Sonic asked.

Right now he was wearing a loose t-shirt and tracksuit pants alongside his usual gloves and a pair of sneakers. The sneakers were already showing signs of wear and tear, as they were just a regular pair that wouldn’t be able to withstand Sonic’s speed like his old sneakers did. But that wasn’t Sally’s concern as Rotor was already working on something that would help there.

What was not sitting right with Sally was everything else.

“There’s nothing wrong with them while you’re here at home,” Sally began. “But they’re way too big, even for you. Your shirt has already gotten snagged on something today.

Sonic was still looking over himself while Sally spoke, and when she pointed out his shirt Sonic winced when he caught sight of an obvious tear that wasn’t there when they had left the village. He grabbed his shirt to get a better look at the tear, frowning slightly.

“I mean yeah, true. But I like ‘em loose,” Sonic said. “I gotta be able to move.”

“I know, but there’s a fine line between comfortable and putting yourself at risk,” Sally said, before she gestured to herself. “That’s why I wear my vest - it’s fitted enough so it won’t get caught on anything, but I can still move around easily.”

“Yeah, but,” Sonic began, his muzzle scrunched up with hesitation as he tried to pick his next words.

He had never really been the type to wear clothes, as like a lot of mobians he found it wasn’t needed. The most he would wear was maybe a jacket or a sweater in the colder months, but even then he hated it with a passion as those felt too restrictive even if the trade-off was being warm.

But now he felt like he had to be fully clothed, for reasons he didn’t really want to delve into. But the main requirement for his new wardrobe was that it had to be comfortable, which meant that what he was wearing was maybe a size or two bigger than what he needed in reality.

That in itself also touched onto reasons he didn’t want to delve into, and he had a feeling what Sally was hinting at was going to cut right into that.

“It’s fine. I can deal with a few tears,” Sonic concluded a little lamely, unable to think of a counter argument that would shut down this conversation, but hoping that would be enough to slow Sally’s roll.

He turned away from Sally to emphasis his desire to end the conversation there, though when he started to walk away Sonic felt something snag his t-shirt. Before he could stop himself he stumbled back, just barely able to rebalance himself as he almost tripped over his own feet.

When he managed to right himself Sonic glared down at his shirt, only to find Sally gripping it in her fist with a strength Sonic had no idea she possessed.

“Oh c’mon!” Sonic protested, only to get yanked again. This time he managed to keep his balance, and couldn’t help giving Sally a small smirk of satisfaction when she ended up nearly tripping over herself when the tugging backfired on her.

“I’m just trying to show you it’s not about a few tears here and there. It’s about your own safety,” Sally countered. “I don’t want you ending up getting hurt just when you getting back on track over something so silly.”

“I’ll just tuck it in or somethin’, it’s fine,” Sonic sighed.

“That’s not going to work and you know it,” Sally stated.

She finally released Sonic’s shirt, and after he straightened it out Sonic sat on his bed, giving Sally a deadpan stare.

“Look, it’s an easy fix,” Sally explained. “Just let me take some measurements--"

“Pass,” Sonic cut in.

“-- then let Bunnie take some measurements--"

“Hard pass,” Sonic gritted, resulting in Sally growling in frustration. “Can’t she just use wha’ever measurements she had when she made these for me?”

“There were no measurements. She had to guess by eyeballing you,” Sally sighed. “And even then she knew she got most of it wrong.”

“Nah, she did fine,” Sonic waved off, before he flopped back onto his bed. “Just tell her to do that again.”

He felt Sally climb onto his bed to scoot up next to him, so he tried to avoid looking at her by staring up at the ceiling. Sonic managed to last about a minute before his eyes flinted towards her, seeing her staring him down and waiting with an infinite amount of patience that wore him down.

“I don’t want to,” Sonic eventually admitted, huffing sharply.

“I know you don’t, but you only have to do it once and then it’s done,” Sally pointed out. “I can come with you if that helps.”

Sonic clicked his tongue in frustration.

“… yeah, that might help,” Sonic sighed. “‘nd then she’s gonna make some new threads for me?”

“Yes.”

“I still want ‘em kinda loose though.”

“She can make them reasonably loose, yes,” Sally smirked. “And you can keep these for home.”

“… fine. When can she does this?”

“Bunnie said she’s ready whenever you are, I’ve already talked to her about it,” Sally said. “Honestly, it was her idea to ask, she really wants to make some new clothes for you.”

“Why? They’re just clothes, ‘nd I like wha’ she made for me already,” Sonic asked, tilting his head a little at Sally.

“She said she felt like it wasn’t her best work. And you know Bunnie, she just wants to do something nice for you,” Sally shrugged. “She also said she had some ideas already, but she didn’t want to start making them until you gave the go ahead.”

“I swear she fusses just as much as she breathes,” Sonic laughed, then sat up. “Let’s do it now then.”

“Right now?” Sally echoed, clear surprise in her voice.

“Yep. Before I change my mind. If she ain’t ready now she’s gonna miss her chance.”

His bravado lasted long enough to get himself to Bunnie’s place, and to get the cyborg rabbit to start preparations to gather whatever measurements she needed.

However Sally watched it fade almost instantly the second Bunnie asked Sonic to remove his shirt so she could get a much more accurate measurement. Which was a sight to be seen in itself, as she was used to Sonic being brave even when facing down something that would shake any mortal soul to its very core.

It was also strange, almost concerning, that Sonic couldn’t even muster up the words to try to argue a compromise with Bunnie. Instead he seemed to shut down entirely, his tail lashing back and forth in agitation as he took on the role of a trapped animal.

“Sugah-hog? Y’doin’ okay there?” Bunnie chanced, also noticing the change in the hedgehog. “We c’n do this another time if y’all wanna.”

When Sonic didn’t answer, or really even acknowledged that Bunnie had said anything, Sally jumped up from her seat and approached him as she gave Bunnie an apologetic look.

“Sorry, one second,” Sally murmured while she slipped her hand into Sonic’s larger one and gently tugged him towards her. Surprisingly Sonic followed her, though he still looked like a deer caught in headlights when she took him to one side of Bunnie’s hut so they could talk.

“Hey, are you all right?” Sally whispered.

The question seemed to snap Sonic out of his trance, if just barely, and he blinked at Sally as he tried to process her question.

“Uh... yeah. Just... you know...” Sonic babbled, his eyes wide before he weakly stated. “I didn’t think this through.”

It was a consistent characteristic for Sonic to do that, which Sally would have gladly pointed out with dripping sarcasm given any other circumstance. But watching it actually shatter his confidence so quickly made Sally’s own mind scramble to try to help him push through it.

“It’s okay. She’ll be quick so you don’t have to have it off for too long,” Sally attempted. “It’s just so she can get more accurate measurements, that’s all.”

“Ah’m just gonna be lookin’ at th’ numbers, hon. Nothin’ else,” Bunnie offered, then clamped her mouth shut when Sally shot her a glare while frantically made a cutting motion at her throat with her hand.

Her words though were like setting off fire crackers at Sonic’s feet, and it turned him into a bucking bull that Sally had to grab at desperately to stop him from rocketing out of the hut.

“Easy, Sonic! Easy!” Sally called, her voice strained as she held onto his shirt for dear life.

“This was a stupid idea! I can’t do this!” Sonic snapped.

“Yes you can,” Sally assured, tugging at Sonic’s shirt so he was now at her eye level. “Breathe first, look at me and breathe.”

Miraculously Sonic followed her instructions, though his breathing was so tense it sounded like his lungs had turned to stone. Sally cupped his cheeks and ran her hands through the fur that edged them, before running her hands up through his quills and along his ears, repeating the motions slowly.

“It’s okay, just tell me what you’re thinking,” Sally murmured.

“This is too different. I’m too different. I didn’t care before but no one was seein’ me either so it didn’t matter,” Sonic babbled, his voice catching at every few words. “I thought I could deal wit’ this.”

“You can, I know you can,” Sally assured, still running her hands along his cheeks and up.

She noticed that his quills were getting tenser with each passing second, so she switched to petting at his ears instead to not risk cutting her hands open from his quills. “I’m right here, and we don’t have to do it all at once. We can stop whenever you need to.”

“I just want it over wit’,” Sonic hissed.

“You can set the pace,” Sally said. “And you don’t have to look at anything or know anything because Bunnie isn’t going to say a word about what she’s measuring or seeing.”

The last part Sally said a little louder as she glanced at Bunnie, her expression stern enough for Bunnie to catch what she was hinting at. The cyborg rabbit nodded, desperate to make up for her slip up earlier.

“Mah lips are sealed, hon. Y’all just tell me when you want a break ‘nd Ah’ll stop. No ifs or buts about it,” Bunnie stated.

Sonic still looked like he would rather tear his own face off than go through with this, and every so often his eyes flinted to the door, desperately wanting to escape. But after a few minutes of having his ears petted and soft murmuring of reassurance from Sally his nerves started to calm, if just barely, and he took in another choked breath before he pulled away from Sally and stood in front of Bunnie.

“You get one shot, make it count,” Sonic murmured as he slipped off his shirt, but still held onto it with a death-like grip so that it was still within reach.

Bunnie got to work without another word. With Sonic’s height she did have to on occasion use her ladder-legs to get a more accurate measurement, and every time she did this Sonic would pointedly look away from her, his eyes fixated on a random spot in her hut.

Every touch from Bunnie also made him stiffen, his quills bristling whenever Bunnie had to linger for a little longer than he thought was necessary as his mind attempted to run away with ever possibility of why she was doing that. Whenever this happened Sally would snap her fingers to get his attention, then remind him to breathe by mimicking the motion herself. It would result in him taking another tense breath, though he would look a little calmer for it, if just barely.

The next challenge was asking for Sonic to strip further once Bunnie had gotten his upper body measurements down. Thankfully he was able to run through the motions of his panic in less time compared to when he had to remove his shirt, though it was obvious Sonic was getting to the end of his tolerance for the situation by this point.

All in all the whole session was about half an hour, as even with Sonic’s obvious discomfort Bunnie wanted to get as many measurements as she could just so she could avoid needing to ask him for more later down the line. But the moment Bunnie said she was done Sonic slipped back into his clothes and was out the door, not even bothering to put his shoes back on.

“Ah’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make that so uncomfortable for him,” Bunnie sighed.

“No, it’s okay. There’s just... a lot still going through his head, I think,” Sally explained. “Did you get what you needed though?”

“Ah did. ‘nd enough to guess anythin’ Ah missed, too,” Bunnie said. “Just leave it wit’ me. Y’know if he had any requests?”

“Just not too tight. So he can move around,” Sally said. “And... for other reasons, too, obviously.”

“Ah gotcha, no problem. Lemme know if y’need a hand wit’ him.”

Sally nodded, then headed back for her own hut, hoping Sonic was there and not on the other side of the planet by now.

Thankfully he was at her hut, though it took her a moment to find him as Sonic had buried himself under his bedcovers on his bed, a habit he had picked up since his return home. Sally resisted the urge to sigh as she sat down next to the lump of blankets and laid her hand on top of it, feeling it jump slightly at her touch.

“It’s okay, it’s just me,” Sally assured. “You did great.”

“Yeah right,” Sonic grumbled, his voice muffled. “That was embarrassin’.”

“Maybe, but you still did it,” Sally pointed out. “I saw how many times you wanted to run and you didn’t. Give yourself some credit there, Sonic.”

“Maybe another time, Sal.”

Sally patted at the blanket pile, hoping Sonic could feel it as she was sure there were at least ten odd blankets on him.

“Well I’m very proud of you.”

Sonic didn’t respond for a while, making Sally wonder if he had dozed off after fighting off his panic for so long. But after a few moments Sonic murmured a quiet thanks to her, and she smiled, before giving him one last pat through the blankets as she moved away to give him some space.

#boundforfreedom #sonsally #sonic the hedgehog #sally acorn #bunnie rabbot #sonic satam #SatAM AU #sonsally week 2024 #tw body image #SatAM-TimeSkip

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suddenlybambi · 1 year

Text

as long as you stay here [12] ♥ kyle broflovski

pairing : kyle broflovski x reader

college AU - 18+

tags : strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst, alcohol, afab reader, she/her pronouns, eventual smut

words : 2.1k

chapter 12

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a/n - couldn't leave y'all on that angst 😭 also please drink some water for me if you see this 🥰

Kyle and Y/N had fallen asleep together on the bed after eating the brownies and talking for a little while until she drifted off with him soon following after. At some point, his mom must have gone in and retrieved the plate without disturbing them. Y/N hoped that Sheila wouldn’t say anything about the two of them sharing a bed but had a feeling she’d bring it up some way or another.

Once she had woken up, Y/N managed to slip out of bed and downstairs without waking Kyle. Her plan was to make him a cup of coffee and bring it to him in bed as a thank-you for comforting her the night before.

Her heart sank when she was joined in the kitchen by Gerald only a minute later. She considered abandoning the idea altogether, but she was already brewing the coffee. Weighing out her remaining options, she wanted to stay silent, but at the same time, she didn’t want there to be a bad atmosphere over Thanksgiving.

“Do you want a cup of coffee?” She offered, hoping to break some of the growing tension.

“Yes, please,” Gerald confirmed, settling down at the kitchen table. “About last night-”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m sorry, I probably overreacted,” She shrugged it off quickly, hoping they wouldn’t talk about it any more and further complicate the issue. She didn’t like to apologise when she felt she did nothing wrong, but it was easier to just make peace while she was staying there and feel her feelings about it once home.

“No, it wasn’t you,” He shook his head and sighed. “I was out of line, and for that, I am sorry.”

“Thank you,” She poured the coffee and walked it over to him, placing it in front of him. Kyle had told her his dad liked his coffee black with one sugar, so that’s how she made it. “In all honesty, I’ve never really had a fatherly figure in my life, so I’m never sure how to react or behave around them. I probably did overreact to what was said, and that is something I need to and will work on in future.”

“You’re a good fit for Kyle,” Gerald took a sip of his coffee and smiled. “You seem like a very mature and level-headed young woman… And this coffee is perfect, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Y/N decided not to touch on the phrasing that she was a good fit for Kyle. She knew what he was implying, but she didn’t want to complicate their relationship by delving into that. She couldn’t risk losing the best friendship she had ever had. “I think I heard Kyle moving around, so I’m going to take his coffee up to him.”

“For the record, if you ever do want to learn how to drive, I am more than happy to teach you,” Gerald added just as she was walking out of the kitchen. “Ike destroyed four mailboxes just trying to turn left. If I can teach him, I think I can teach anyone.”

“Four mailboxes?” Y/N laughed, looking back. She was thankful that the tense atmosphere had dissipated. “Two walls, a fire hydrant, a stop sign, and I blew out three tires.”

“Mom said dinner will be ready in an hour,” Ike yawned from the doorway, having only just gotten up at midday. “But knowing her, it’ll be two hours.”

“Thank you, Ike,” Y/N smiled from her position on the bed. Kyle had set his laptop up so they could watch a movie together without having to go downstairs since Sheila had demanded that everyone leave her alone while she was cooking. “Wanna watch a movie with us?”

“And listen to the two of you flirt the whole time? Gross,” He cringed and turned around to go back to his own room. “I’ll pass.”

“He’s lucky he’s too big for me to kick him now,” Kyle mumbled, looking over at the door. He got up and pushed it so it was just slightly open a crack. “That’s technically still open, right?”

“I’d say so,” Y/N grinned, flicking through the various movies on Netflix. “What are you feeling? Horror is a no for you; gross, sappy romance is a no for me… should we-” She was cut off when her phone started to vibrate on the bed in front of her.

“You getting a call?” Kyle asked, looking over from where he was still standing by the door.

Y/N’s eyes widened as she read the name. “Shit, I’m really sorry!” She sat up straight, glancing over at Kyle. “I need to take this. Do you want me to step outside, or can I just-”

“No, it’s fine! Go for it,” He nodded in confirmation that it was all good with him, and she accepted the call.

“The fuck do you want?” She asked. Kyle would have been concerned had it not been for the playful tone in her voice as she spoke.

“Turn your Facetime on!” He could hear the other voice, clearly male, despite the fact that Y/N was holding the phone up to her ear. She looked over at him, knowing that it would mean her audio would be playing out loud. He nodded again to confirm that he didn’t mind, especially since whoever was on the phone was loud enough to have been heard anyway. It wouldn’t make much difference. Plus, Kyle was nosey and wanted to know who she was talking to.

“If I go blind from seeing your ugly mug, I’m suing you,” She teased whoever was on the phone as she switched to Facetime. Kyle could just about see from the corner of his eye that it was a man with the same hair colour as Y/N. She pretended to shield her eyes, groaning dramatically. “It’s so awful! So much worse than I expected! I can feel my eyes melting away!”

“Ah, there she is!” The man on the phone laughed along with her teasing. “The Bean Queen herself!”

“I swear if you call me that one more time, I’ll-”

“You’ll what? Kick my ass? I’m in Belgium, sis! Your short legs could never reach!” The nickname ‘sis’ and the mentions of Belgium connected the dots for Kyle. Y/N had spoken about her brother being in Europe with his fiance, and the man did share some similarities in looks from what Kyle could tell. “Where are you?”

“Bedroom,” Y/N answered with a simple shrug.

“Okay, smartass, you’re in a bedroom, but that’s not your bedroom, is it?” Her brother pointed out. “Not unless you’ve suddenly gotten really into… What is that poster for? Basketball?”

“Oh yeah! Totally! I love when they….” She looked around for some sort of inspiration. “Bounce the ball and do that… throwing thing into the… the ball basket holder?” Kyle couldn’t help but laugh at this. He made a mental note to try and teach her basketball terms at some point.

“Wait, who is that laughing?” Y/N’s brother asked loudly, causing Kyle to stop laughing immediately. “Is that a boy? Are you in a boy’s room? Why is my baby sister in a boy’s room?”

“You do remember that I am an adult woman now, not the little kid who used to cling to your legs whenever you tried to walk, right?” Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes dramatically. “But if you must know, I’m staying at my friend Kyle’s house with his family for the holidays because I apparently have no family of my own!”

“Hey! I am right here!”

“You are in Belgium!”

“Okay, fair point….” He paused. “Are you going to introduce me to this ‘friend’ of yours?” Y/N looked at Kyle, who was still standing by the door, worried about moving and interrupting the call. He nodded to confirm he was okay with being introduced, trying to hide his nervousness. What if her brother hated him? She patted the bed, so he joined her on it, making sure to sit far enough apart so that they weren’t touching. He didn’t want her brother to get the wrong idea and jump to conclusions.

“Henry, this is Kyle,” She turned the phone around so the two could see one another. “Kyle, this is my asshole of a brother, Henry. Happy now, dickwad?”

“Yo, Kyle, what is she paying you to stick around?” Henry asked, a smug grin toying at his lips. “Gotta be something good to put up with her.”

“Terrible fries and even worse company,” Y/N joked. She had picked up that Kyle wasn’t comfortable answering the question, unwilling to insult her but not wanting Henry to think he took his question seriously. “Now, why did you decide to grace me with your horrifying presence?”

“It’s Thanksgiving for starters…” Henry sighed, telling her it was something more than that. “Uh… Did Mom tell you?”

“That she’s moving?” Her mood dropped instantly. Kyle looked at her in concern. “Telling me is giving her too much credit. She sent a shitty text saying I need to get my stuff out, or she’ll dump it. Though I guess a text is more than I’ve gotten from her in months. I was starting to think that she had just lost my number.”

“I know it’s a lot to ask you, but… I’m in Belgium,” Henry sighed, looking away from the screen. “I can’t get back in time to get my stuff… Do you think you could grab and store it for me, please?”

“Where do you expect me to keep it?” She shook her head, a mixture of disbelief and disappointment clearly present in her voice. “I don’t have the space to store your shit as well as my own. My apartment is tiny, and I can barely move in it as it is!”

“Please, bean? I’m begging you!” He pleaded, looking around. “Dylan and I just adopted a dog, and we can’t bring it on a plane yet-”

“You adopted a dog, and you didn’t tell me?” Y/N gasped, sitting forward more. “I demand to see this dog right this second!”

Kyle noticed how her entire demeanour had changed at the mention of the dog. He couldn’t tell if Henry had done this on purpose, knowing his sister would get distracted and no longer be upset with him. He hoped he hadn’t but couldn’t shake the feeling that he had. Either way, he didn’t want to upset Y/N by pointing it out.

“This is Cranky Gordon!” Henry lifted up the cutest beagle puppy they had ever seen. “He only bites a little bit!” As if on queue, the dog tried to turn around and snap at him. “Okay, okay! I’m putting you down! That is why he’s called Cranky Gordon.”

Y/N had stayed on the call with her brother until Sheila announced that dinner was ready. The spread was incredible, and she went back for thirds… and fourths… and fifths. Sixths were considered, but then pudding was announced.

After it was all done and Y/N felt like she couldn’t move, Kyle was mortified when his mom pulled out the photo album.

“No! We are not doing this!” He jumped up as fast as he could, considering how full he felt from the meal, and tried to pull the album from his mom’s hands. “Y/N doesn’t want to see the baby pictures!”

“Y/N definitely wants to see the baby pictures!” Y/N grinned deviously, Kyle glared at her in a plea to get her to stop, but she wasn’t backing down.

“Bubbie, it is a family tradition!” Sheila sighed, holding a firm grip on the book as she settled down on the couch next to Y/N, who looked over her arm eagerly when the album was opened. “Here is Kyle taking his first bath. Look at him! His little scrunched-up face! He was such an ugly little baby, but we loved him.…”

“The hair!” Y/N gasped, grinning up at Kyle as he stood over them in disapproval. “I didn’t realise babies could be born with that much hair!”

“Neither did I! It was quite a shock when he popped out!” Sheila laughed. “I thought he had something stuck to his head… Oh! This is the first time he used the potty all by himself!”

“This is humiliating…” He groaned, giving up and sitting on the arm of the couch next to Y/N.

“What’s wrong, bro?” Ike teased. “If you didn’t want to be embarrassed in front of your girlfriend, you shouldn’t have brought her to Thanksgiving.”

“She is not my-” Kyle started to protest, but Sheila spoke up before he could finish.

“Don’t worry, Ike; we’ll get your album out next.”

a/n - let me know if you would like to be on the taglist for this fic

current taglist - @n0tangeliccc @solana-central @charqing-qing @eiizabeth-torres @hand-writxen @audiliah @cosmicbroenies @himoutolikesjojo @katnipkoffee @desertofdessert @inkedintothepaper @ky-uwu @quackyfae @marwvy @baubub @kiahapologist @novalforfeb @da-extroverted-introvert @welp030

#alaysh #alaysh suddenlybambi #kyle broflovski #as long as you stay here #kyle broflovski fic #south park fanfiction #south park kyle #south park fic #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle x reader #sp kyle x reader

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anakinsthot · 9 months

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Hiiii!

Can I ask for "knocking on the wrong door au" for the short fic thing??

(from this prompt list)

Thank you! This is not so much the wrong door as right address wrong person, but the idea grabbed me immediately and I had to write it.

1.3k

The cat in Anakin’s arms was surprisingly docile. It looked up at him with large green eyes, blinking slowly every so often.

“Where did you come from?” he asked quietly. The little tabby had been hiding in the shed behind his house. In between a disemboweled lawn mower and the snow blower Anakin had been about to take out, the little thing had been curled into a tight ball. When Anakin, gloves on just in case, picked it up it went limp in his arms. He’d momentarily worried that the poor thing had just died. When it started purring, a thin scratchy sound, he sighed in relief.

Anakin brought it into the house, where it could warm up and drink some water. He found an old can of tuna out of a cupboard and offered it that as well. While the cat ate, Anakin noticed it was wearing a collar with a tag. He unclipped it gently, trying not to disturb the cat while it ate, and turned it over in his hands. On one side was a name – Boga – and on the other an address. 212 Baker St. That was just a block down from Anakin’s house.

While he waited for Boga to finish eating, Anakin looked for something suitable as a cat carrier. He’d never owned a pet, having grown up in a small apartment that had a strict no pets policy, and had been tossing the idea around for a couple months now that he owned his own house. He had the vague idea that something enclosed on all sides was recommended for cats. When nothing suitable turned up Anakin sighed and grabbed one of the canvas bags his mother had given him for grocery shopping.

“Please don’t jump out,” he told the cat, before setting her into the bag. When he put picked it up she sat quietly, little head poking out of the top as she looked around. “I’m going to take you home, ok?”

Baker St was a cross street to Anakin’s, just four houses down. 212 turned out to be the second on the street. He stopped out front, frowning. There was a sold sign in the front yard and a u-haul in the driveway. Anakin crossed his fingers, hoping that it was the old family moving out and the cat had simply gotten out in the commotion.

He knocked on the door and waited. A voice called out that they’d be right there, and then he heard the sound of someone shoving things out of the way.

The man who opened the door looked flustered. Anakin sympathized – he had probably looked the same when he was packing and unpacking in his last move. Despite his red cheeks and messy hair, he looked unfairly good for someone who had presumably been moving boxes all day. His long sleeves were rolled up to show well-muscled biceps and his sweatpants were quite flattering. Anakin swallowed and tried to focus on the man’s blue eyes.

“Can I help you?” the man asked gruffly.

“I’ve got your cat,” Anakin said, holding the bag in front of him. Boga meowed plaintively. “She was in my shed, I figure she must have slipped out and gotten scared while you were moving things?”

“That’s not my cat, but good luck finding her owner,” the man said and started to close the door.

Anakin stuck his foot out. It was rude, he knew, but someone abandoning their animal like this much worse.

“This is 212 Baker St, right?”

“Yes,” the man said slowly. He’d given up on trying to close the door, but hadn’t opened it all the way either.

“Then this is your cat,” Anakin told him, showing him the tag on the collar. “Maybe you don’t want her any more but it’s pretty fucking shitty to just abandon her. At least give me whatever things you have left and I’ll make sure she gets a home where she’s actually cared for.”

“That’s not my cat,” the man repeated. “I just bought the house. I’m moving in right now.”

Anakin swallowed. “I’m… sorry,” he said slowly. “I’ll just, go I guess. Congrats on the new house.”

Something must have shown on his face, because the other man’s expression softened and he opened the door all the way and invited Anakin in.

“I’m Obi-Wan Kenobi,” he offered, “why don’t you come in and we can decide what to do from here.”

“Anakin Skywalker,” Anakin told him. He pulled Boga out of the bag as soon as the door was closed behind him. She curled up in his arms right away, her scratchy purr starting up again. “And this is Boga.”

The living room was littered with boxes and a couch that was only half-way put together. Obi-Wan sat on one of the boxes and gestured for Anakin to do the same, cheeks pink.

“I’m sorry about the mess, but as I said. I’m just moving in today.”

Anakin lowered himself tentatively onto a box. It bent under him, just a bit, but Obi-Wan seemed unconcerned.

“Welcome to the neighborhood,” Anakin laughed a little. “Normally I try and greet new neighbors with baked goods or something, not a cat.”

Obi-Wan smiled at him. It was possibly the most beautiful smile Anakin had ever seen. He looked down at Boga quickly, trying to hide the flush he could feel on his cheeks.

“Unfortunately the sellers moved out a month ago, and they didn’t say anything about their cat,” Obi-Wan said. “I don’t have their contact info, but I can have my realtor reach out to them. I fear you’re right about her being abandoned, though. Surely they would have asked me to keep an eye out if she’d escaped.”

“If you could, that would be great,” Anakin tried to sound optimistic, but he thought Obi-Wan was probably right. “I can keep her until you hear back. I don’t have anything for cats but I think the local grocery store carries pet supplies and they’re still open.”

“No need for that. I was planning on adopting a cat after I got settled in and I have everything already,” Obi-Wan interrupted him. “If they don’t want her back I’ll keep her.”

He stood and walked over to Anakin, reaching out to take Boga. Reflexively, Anakin tightened his arms around her. He’d been prepared to give her back to her family, of course. But as soon as Obi-Wan had revealed he wasn’t her owner, thoughts of keeping her had started to form. In his arms, she meowed quietly and squirmed.

Anakin swallowed and stood up. “That’s great,” he said, holding her out to Obi-Wan. She was a docile as ever as they exchanged her and butted her head against Obi-Wan’s chin, rubbing a cheek against his beard, when he settled her in his arms. “Um.” Anakin hesitated at the door, reluctant to just leave like this.

“Why don’t you give me your number and I’ll keep you updated on her?” Obi-Wan offered.

Anakin smiled in relief and quickly pulled out his phone. Obi-Wan recited his number, and after Anakin had sent him a text and given Boga one final pat on the head, he left.

Back at his house, Anakin looked around. He could picture it now, how a cat would fill the space. Where the food and water bowl would go, which corner would be best for a cat tree. Sinking onto his couch, he pulled up the website for the local animal shelter and started scrolling through the available pets.

Two hours and ten open tabs about cat care later, his phone pinged with a text.

There was a photo – a selfie – of Obi-Wan laying down on the now assembled couch with Boga on his chest.

Boga Kenobi and I would like to invite you over for dinner.

Anakin bit his lip and smiled. I’d love that.

#prompt fill #obikin #they end up having each other over for dinner twice a week for two months #before they realize they're dating #anakin proposes 3 months after that #obi-wan says yes and they get married in the backyard and boga carries the ring #mal writes

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sesamestreep · 8 months

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30 Day Writing Challenge - Day 3

Use the words: kitchen, date, music (from this list) ➸ this could be canon-verse (ish??) or it would honestly work for any AU of mine too. choose your own adventure!

“This doesn’t count as our big date night, for the record.”

Foggy actually pauses in the middle of pouring the wine and gestures around him in bewilderment. “What? Why not?”

“We’re in the office kitchen,” Matt says, leaning back in the uncomfortable plastic chair. When they’d moved into their new office—after a much longer time than either of them had counted on working out of the back of the Nelsons’ shop—money had still been tight enough that most of their furniture was secondhand and largely donated by well-meaning friends and family. They’ve been slowly replacing things to make the place seem less ramshackle but it takes time and they’ve obviously focused their early efforts on the spaces that their clients actually see. The pathetic little kitchen table with its two chairs is not a high priority for replacement, all things considered.

“What’s wrong with our kitchen?” Foggy asks. “Kitchens can be romantic.”

“Kitchens in general can, sure, but this one cannot.”

“And I’m asking why not?”

“For one thing, it’s not really a kitchen,” Matt says. “It’s a coffeemaker, a few cabinets, and a microwave.”

“And a sink,” Foggy replies, cheerfully. “Don’t forget the sink.”

“Oh, right. The sink does make it more romantic.”

“Thank you!”

“A date needs ambience,” Matt continues, undeterred. “Candles, or mood lighting, at the very least. Music or…something! We have none of that.”

“I can get that wind-up lantern we have in case of power outages, if you think that would help,” Foggy says. “And I think I have a kazoo in my office.”

“Why do you have a kazoo, of all things?”

“Marlena’s daughter gave it to me last time they were here. I think it counts as our payment for that case, by the way.”

Matt shakes his head, refusing to be amused. “We’re drinking bodega wine and eating…God, what are we even eating?”

“Your choice of—” Foggy is interrupted by the crinkling of plastic—“frozen breakfast burritos or…pizza bagels.”

“We’re grown men,” Matt says, scandalized, but somehow his smile escapes his attempt at containment. “This is pathetic.”

“I don’t know when you suddenly got too good for convenience store fare, but I’ve never made any such claims.”

“Your mother would kill me if she knew this is what I let pass for a romantic dinner.”

“Believe it or not, Matt, I don’t report back to my mother after every date,” Foggy replies, sounding like he’s very much resisting the urge to laugh. “Where on earth would you get the idea that I did?”

“I don’t know,” Matt sighs. “I’m being irrational, I understand.”

Foggy pats his hand where it’s resting on the table. “I’m disappointed too,” he says, gently.

Matt sighs again, even more dramatically. They’d had big plans to go out tonight, to finally take a night to themselves after cases had taken up most of their nights and weekends as well as their days. It wasn’t like they could afford to say no, not when people needed their help and when they needed to pay rent, so they’d been steadily working themselves down to nubs for the past few months. Tonight was meant to be a small reprieve, and Matt had learned enough to know he might not feel the need for it as much as Foggy claimed to but he did still need a break now and then, whether he could recognize it ahead of time or not.

Then, of course, a trial for one of their clients had gotten moved up, which meant they had to get all their prep done in a very small timeframe and their plans for a night off had dutifully been thrown over in favor of work once again. Hence the late dinner of whatever Foggy could find at the nearest bodega, because of course he was the one to remember, amidst the tidal wave of work, that they still needed to eat something, at least. Matt really doesn’t know how he managed to stay alive before Foggy—though, now that he thinks of it, “before Foggy” is such a distant time in the past for him at this point that he struggles to remember it at all. Which is its own kind of alarming.

“You’re not going to break up with me over this, right?” Matt asks, and again, it’s a real sign of growth that he can say it out loud at all, that he can even admit to needing the reassurance.

“God no,” Foggy says, rubbing Matt’s knuckles with his thumb. “First of all, this isn’t even a little bit your fault—”

“It was my idea to start the firm in the first place, though, so technically—”

“And secondly,” Foggy continues, ignoring him, “if I broke up with you, I’d never find someone else who would put up with this kind of thing on a regular basis. You’re the only person who understands. I got very lucky. Breaking up with you would be like hitting on a 17 in blackjack.”

“I don’t know anything about gambling, but I’m guessing that was very sweet.”

Foggy laughs. “It was, thank you for noticing. If we ever get a moment of peace in our lives, I’ll take you to Atlantic City and teach you everything you need to know about blackjack.”

“I have a set of Braille playing cards at home,” Matt says, feeling his face heat for no real reason. “I mean, just in the interest of setting more reasonable goals.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Getting as far away as New Jersey is pretty unrealistic, for us.”

“I appreciate that you want to take me away someplace nice, though.”

“Of course,” Foggy says. “Only the best for you.”

“Exotic vacations to New Jersey, fancy dinners from the freezer aisle, six dollar wine…” Matt muses. “Who says you can’t have it all?”

“You haven’t seen anything yet, baby,” Foggy quips. “If you think dinner for two in the office kitchenette is uninspiring, wait until you experience making love on the office couch!”

Matt wrinkles his nose, even as he feels himself blush. “Yeah, that’s going to take some convincing,” he says, though he doesn’t admit that it probably won’t amount to all that much. Foggy can talk him into almost anything, because a major component of being in love is being dangerously stupid for another person, he’s found.

“I think I’ll let the cheap wine do the talking for me on this one,” Foggy says, reaching across the table to top off Matt’s glass—or, well, paper cup. “Drink up!”

Matt does, and it’s a pleasant surprise when it turns out to be better and sweeter than he ever imagined. There’s probably a metaphor in there somewhere…

#HWS30days #I already skipped a day because of the brain bees #so I’m putting this out there even though it’s not really anything #the exercise is not meant to be all perfect polished work and that’s FINE #it just makes me want to chew on wires #anyway #homelywenchsociety #that’s my writing tag! don’t worry about it!#writing challenge #mattfoggy #daredevil #foggy nelson #matt murdock #ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh tagging things!!!!

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heliads · 2 months

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AAAHH CONGRATS ON 10000 FOLLOWERS LISA IM SO HAPPY FOR YOUUU <<33!! For the celebration game

🌎 for unwind characters ofc

🎨 for my blog and maybe also grace and/or argent skinner (IK this like the third time I’ve sent you an ask with these two in it but I can’t help it I love my angsty siblings :])

Tysm and congratulations once again bestie!!

thank you!! your moodboard will be in the next post <33

i randomly generated a world swap and the result was the magnificent seven! essentially, this means unwind cowboy au:

masterlist

Connor still thinks this is a stupid idea.

Obviously, it has to happen. The Graveyard’s a hell of a ghost town, hence the name, but Connor’d rather die than see the dang Juveys running through the streets like they own it. And maybe Connor will die for the place after all, because the only plan they’ve got is to string together a team of convicts and outlaws, trigger-happy idiots and honest to God cowboys, and fight off the Juveys. If they’re still breathing long enough to have a drink after, it’ll be a win in Connor’s book.

Still– what a team! Risa must be out of her mind to think these sorts of polar opposites would work together. The few (okay, many) times he’s complained, she’s silenced him with a single look. For this plan to be anything but suicidal, they need people with a wide range of strengths. So she says, at least, white hat reflecting the sun around her head like she’s a damn angel.

Connor certainly looks at her like she’s an angel, even despite what he knows about her– the bounty hunter, running from the law since she was a kid. Just like he did. If there’s one thing all of them in this plucky band of sharpshooters have in common, it’s that they ran off young and never came back, figuring their best future would be found somewhere on the road. Maybe it was and maybe it wasn’t, but they’ve become good riders and better shots, and Connor would say that’s better than growing old on a front porch somewhere anyway.

That’s all they’ve got in common, though. Feels like it, at least. What else could connect Hayden, the printer of the revolutionary newspaper that’s gotten him kicked out of a fair share of towns, or Roland, whose fingers keep twitching towards his pistols? How else are Lev, a former preacher’s son ‘til the fire and brimstone made him sick, and Starkey, a fuse ready to blow, possibly similar?

A love for risk, that’s what. Or, more pessimistically, none of them have any home waiting anymore. If you can’t go back, you go forward. Into the arms of bullets, maybe. Connor looks around at his band of outlaws and thinks– one day, when they win this fight, there might be a place for them after all.

unwind tag list: @reinekes-fox, @locke-writes

#10k celebration #unwind #world swap

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mousymaven · 1 year

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SWEET {CHAPTER ONE}

Ellie x reader(NOTES: modern au, fem presenting au, She/her pronouns used, parties, crushes, spying, and slight mention of hypoglycemia(ever so slightly)- yes i'm projecting- this is gonna be some slow burn shit babes, cat, breakups, sorta fast-paced but it’s the first chapter so cut me some slack babes 💀🪻)

this is my first ever fic on this tag so please be nice 😭💗

(first day of school)

The 12th grade was a shitty year to move schools. Three years of building friend ships, learning class routes, and most importantly getting teachers to like you all destroyed with the simple words “you’re mom got a promotion y/n! We’re moving to Wyoming!”

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ — ˗ˋ

The first time y/n saw her, Ellie was peacefully unaware of the fact that she was being spied on at all. It was a Sunday and she was killing time in the school computer lab after her band practice. No one else was supposed to be there, y/n had just moved into town with her parents, and the snobby principal was giving them an “all-out tour of their perfect establishment”

It was near the end of summer break, and the kind of humid that makes you feel sticky and uncomfortable. Ellie was wearing a tank top that could easily be mistaken for a sports bar, black skinny jeans, and her crusty dusty black Converse that she had refused to get rid of despite the hole on the inside of the shoe, and constant harassment from Dina about how embarrassing it was to walk next to her wearing “world war ll shoes”.

Y/n hadn't meant to spy on her at all in fairness. She’d gotten bored of the forced “Ooooo and ahhhs” of her parents and wandered around. By the time it had hit her how long she had been standing there, y/n had looked like a complete stalker. Her nose just barely brushed the door, manicured hand gripping the door frame as if it was super glued.

She finally snapped out of it when the brown-haired girl turned slightly in her swivel chair, briefly facing the entrance. Y/n booked it away from the door, back pressed against the lockers at the other end of the hall leaving her slightly winded, a metallic taste in her mouth as she tried to calm her heavy breathing. After about 5 minutes of silence from all around and the occasional sound of ticking from the multiple classroom clocks, y/n sped back around in an effort to look for her parents. She hadn’t meant to react so hastily, but if she was seen by the stranger that would be one conversation she’d regret having to awkwardly explain.

“Ah, there she is! Y/n y/l/n! I see you’ve taken you’re own tour!” The principal laughed to himself slightly, amused by his own idea of humor “That wraps it up for today! We’ve emailed you your classes and a full map of the school. Make sure to be here first thing Monday morning at 8:30 just in case we need to be going over a few more things”

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It was the first day of school, and y/n was secretly hoping to see the random girl she’d accidentally spied on again.

The brown-haired girl, with really pretty freckles and a nice aura. She wanted to be friends with her. Y/n was good at making friends too, usually, if you didn’t count that one time in the 10th grade when a girl physically sped-walked away from Y/n’s enthusiastic approach to speak with her.

“Phone? Check, backpack? Check, lunch? Check..” y/n trailed off mumbling to herself in hopes that she hadn’t forgotten anything as she made her way downstairs.

“Breakfast? Nope don’t see a check there” Y/n’s father smiled while pushing a small plate with strawberries, toast, and a few slices of apple on it. “Dad I’m fine I’ll eat at lunch we’ve been over this before” the time read 8:15 “I’ve got like 15 minutes to get to school, I don’t have time today- but I appreciate it ” y/n’s father grimaced, the girl almost never ate breakfast, but still complained about the headaches, occasionally vomiting, and weakness when she’d come home after a long day. “ at least take a banana or muffin will you? Just for on the way?” He tried to bargain with her for his own peace of mind, and it worked. “ will it make you happy?” Y/n questioned and he smiled “fine”

Y/n stuffed a muffin in her bag and shouted a “Bye! Love you” before stepping out.

…

Lunch break was the only time of day that Ellie had usually enjoyed besides her journal rants that could span from 12am to 3am occasionally. Not much else really did it for her. The promise of hanging out with friends while occasionally stuffing food in her face was promising.

“Have you heard about the new girl yet?” Dina asked, shoving her backpack into jesses arms as per usual, not that he wanted to but to be higher up on Dina’s “good boyfriend scale” he endured carrying her heavy ass bag every break for the past 2 years. “ we have a new student?” Ellie mumbled, eyes locked on her phone. “ do you live under a rock or something? It’s all that everyone’s been talking about! We live in the middle of butt fuck nowhere we don’t exactly get a new student everyday els” Dina cursed how out of the loop Ellie was. Despite being somewhat socially relevant, and being in band as well as a few other clubs Ellie was almost always never paying attention to things she deemed ‘boring people matters.’

“I sit behind her in French, she seems pretty neat to be honest- really cool backpack actually, it has a bunch of pins and shit on it” Jesse finally piped up as they sat down outside under one of the many trees outside. “ what neater than me?” Dina joked, raising her eyebrow at him.

Jesse playful pushed her and they started their usual lunchtime banter while Ellie drifted off from the conversation slightly. It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested in conversing today but rather that she’d stayed up till 4 in the morning arguing with Cat on Snapchat again. They’d gotten into a really messy breakup back in May- given that it was now September Ellie thought that Cat would be over her usual bullshit of posting photos with other girls and tagging Ellie just to try and spark something outta her. It never did affect Ellie at all, not emotionally at least- however being tagged a shit load of times by someone who was clearly trying to egg her got old after a while. Her calm text of “Can you please cut it out” ended up spurring an argument which resulted in a final block from Ellie, something she’d wish she had done sooner but couldn’t due to how close they used to be.

As Ellie's mind drifted back to the present, she realized that her friends had stopped talking and were now staring at her expectantly. "Sorry, what were you guys saying?" she asked, trying to shake off the remnants of her late-night argument. Her friends exchanged a knowing look before continuing their conversation. “ we’re going to a party tonight- you in?” Jesse asked, wrapping an arm around Dina “Uh maybe who’s, house?” “Owen’s- it’s some shitting first-day thing- but there’s gonna be alcohol and weed so ya know”

Ellie knew Joel wouldn’t exactly be exactly enthusiastic about Ellie attending a party on a school night, but it had been months since she’d gone to one and the thought of letting loose was enticing. “I’ll think about it ” “WOO THE THREE MUSKETEERS BACK AT IT” Dina yelled excitedly. Since the breakup with Cat Ellie hadn’t budged on her willingness to join Jesse or Dina to any group events, especially parties. “If you don’t stop with those goofy ass nicknames I’m gonna beat your ass someday and I said MAYBE” Ellie joked, getting Dina’s foot shoved at her side, Jesse watching as they pushed each other around on the grass. After a few minutes, they eventually calmed down and Ellie piped up “Okay fine I’ll come- but you better bring your stash just in case Owen has those shitty ass white boy rolls” pointing a finger at Jesse.

For Ellie usually everything after lunch was a bit of a blur. This semester however she had genuinely enjoyed the classes she’d gotten[math, science, English, and lastly advanced art history ] it was nice but made her day seem more dreadful and lengthy. Each class was roughly an hour and a half give or take, however now that Ellie knew that she was going to be attending a party and getting high it seemed like her classes spanned 5.

1:50 shined brightly on her deformed iPhone, the realization hitting that she was already 10 minutes late. “Well look who decided to grace us with her presence, Williams take a seat beside y/l/n” Miss.Blight announced loudly, the whole class's attention looking towards Ellie. “Fuck me” she mumbled under her breath, walking to her seat, barely taking notice of the person sitting beside her. “Excuse you?” “Nothing” she huffed out. Ellie knew she got lucky when she ended up getting English again. One of her favorite subjects, however, she’d only truly enjoyed it previously due to the teacher being one of those ditzy teachers who paid more attention to texting their boyfriend than being a real teacher. This gave Ellie a lot of room for creative freedom while writing, not to mention the fact that she was sure the teacher would most likely give her an A no matter what she wrote.

It really wasn’t until Ellie had actually gathered her barring and gotten out her Chromebook that she’d noticed the girl beside her wearing something that if she wasn’t new would easily get her sent home for “being too comfortable showing any kind of skin no matter the body type or size”. Ellie couldn't help but admire the girl’s confidence to wear her outfit without seeming to care. Ellie also noticed how pretty she was, Jesse had said she was neat but never mentioned anything about the new girl being hot. She knew she shouldn’t try to start anything given her past attempts at talking to girls failing terribly, it felt like a part of her had lost the spark since cat, instead, she decided to focus on her own work. Listening to the teacher regurgitate the same bullshit about nouns she’d heard in the first grade.

“Hi, um sorry I’m y/n.. not to bug you but I can’t seem to think of another word for ‘lovely’ and Google wasn’t much help- do you know any words perhaps similar...IT'S COOL IF YOU DON'T AND I APPRECIATE THE-” y/n trailed off slightly. Y/n could definitely think of multiple words that could replace ‘Lovely’ but knew that this was the most casual window of opportunity to talk to the brunette without coming off as “too much” some would say. “Sweet? And I’m guessing you’ve gathered I’m Ellie” She cut the other girl off slightly, trying her best not to sound awkward. “Gosh, why didn’t I think of that, thank you! I really like your necklace by the way”

"Thank you, I appreciate it," Ellie replied with the best smile she could muster. "It was a gift from an old friend, she gave it to me on my birthday a few years ago." Y/n smiled back, feeling a little more confident about their conversation. "That's really sweet," she said, using the word Ellie had suggested earlier. "I wish I had something so cool." "Yeah, she was pretty amazing," Ellie agreed. "Anyway, how’s your first day been so far- besides this grumpy hag” Y/n laughed a bit, she’d also noticed how shitty the English teacher seemed to be from her constant low muttering about how much she hated high school kids and teaching. “It’s been okay I guess, I mean I haven’t really talked to very many people. There’s this one guy in my history class that asked how I was doing but that’s about all. The school is pretty nice though”

The brunette nodded “Yeah a lot of people here just sorta stick to themselves or their friends, but the school itself is okay I guess” Ellie didn’t know what took her over but she felt somewhat obligated to ask her next question. “Ya know there’s this like super lame guy, Owen. He’s throwing some party tonight for back to school- ya think I’ll see you there?”

Y/n choked, she’d never been to a party- and definitely never asked by someone of Ellie’s nature. “Uh I don’t know I’ve never really been to one and” “Oh no problem you can always hang with me and my friends- not to mention I’m sure there’s gonna be a lot of people so I’m sure you won’t really have to worry too much about anyone caring ”Ellie spoke abruptly, sounding rushed. “Okay then yeah I’ll see you there…here’s my number just text me the address” y/n mumbled, pulling Ellie’s Chromebook closer towards herself so she could type her phone number onto the Google doc.

Then the bell rang.

E.W: YOU DIDNR SAY SHE WAS HOT? AND SMWLLED NICE WTF?

J: huh?

D: me when miss.felps💀

E.W: THW BEW GIRL RHE NEW MF SHES OML BRO

J: perhaps try speaking English jackass <3

D: nobody appreciates my jokes anymore :(

E.W: bro the new girl- she’s cool- like seemed cool- she sits beside me in fuckin English bro

J: I’m guessing you invited her to Owens party then lmfao

D: SIMP BEHAVIOUR

E.W: maybe- and both of you have no god damn room to talk abt simp behaviour 😐

E.W:

As the day went on, Ellie felt a growing sense of excitement mixed with nerves. She hadn't been to a party in months, and she wasn't sure if she was ready to let go of her hermit lifestyle just yet, but as she and her friends piled into Jesse's rusty car, and headed to the party, she laid back, finally letting the feeling of excitement hit her. “what is with you fuckers and having the most old and disturbing shit” Dina spoke loudly, already tipsy from a bottle of wine that Jesse had stolen from his parent's liquor cabinet. She was referring to Jesse’s car and Ellie’s shoes, both of which had looked like they’d been through hell and back. “The car is not ‘old’ it’s vintage” Jesse argued, the car was passed down to him and despite his work on it the car didn’t look much better. “ can both of you shut up- and get off my ass about the shoes all the bitches love ‘em,” Ellie said with a smirk, knowing damn well that she needed to throw them out someday.

As they arrived at the party, Ellie's nerves started to get the best of her again. She hadn't been around so many people in a long time, and she wasn't sure how to act, but as she stepped out of the car and saw the bright lights as well as the deafening thumping music, she felt a surge of excitement return. “Woooo let’s go bitches” Dina jumped out of the car and ran for the front door, Jesse huffing behind her. “Idiots” Ellie mumbled to herself.

“Uh hey..”

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This part is so fast-paced and I wanna kms oml- I know it’s bad but I swear the other parts will be better but I really needed to get the fuckin ball rolling for the next few chapters babes 😭 someone lemme know if I should make a tag list- low key hate this but I’m so proud of myself for finally finishing and writing something so Wooo Wooo🧁

Everyone stay safe, be kind, and have a lovely day!! ((ε(*´･ω･)っ†*ﾟ¨ﾟﾟ･*:..☆

#abby x reader #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie williams au #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #tlou part 1 #tlou part 2 #modern ellie

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