#It's looking like it's going to be closer to 30...

[criminalyapping]

due for trouble | you're mine

the pitt masterlist main masterlist

pairing: jack abbot x f!reader

a/n: i'm actually going to murder my keyboard i am so done with the extra letters and spaces you're gonna yell at me about the end but i'll pick up straight where this leaves off tomorrow :)

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, language, the girls are fighting!! he's big mad, they yell, etc. gets saucy near the end but no smut

< part 5 | part 7 >

Jack loves working on the night shift. He loves his coworkers, being able to watch the sun rise, and he loves the relative peace in his shift when compared to what he knows the day shift is like.

Lately, he's been thinking about the downsides, though.

When the baby is here, god, he's having a baby, but when it's here does that just mean that its your job to take care of it all night and then go to work all day? He can afford daycare no problem, but maybe he should look into nighttime nurse for you. He adds it to the mental list of things he needs to figure out.

There's approximately 4 million other things on his list as well.

It's another of his string og three days off, and he's seated on his couch trying to enjoy a movie that he put on. He'd much rather be with you, but you're out with your friends at some new country bar that popped up.

When you had first told him your plans for the night, he cringed. Thinking about the hot, sweaty environment you must be in, the opportunities for slips and falls on the sticky dance floor, and in his darkest thoughts, the possibility of you getting something put in your drink, regardless of if it was just water or a soda.

But be a controlling ass he will not, so he wished you and your friends a fun night and left it at that.

He's regretting that now as he looks at his phone and the message he got from your friend Emily. He scrambles for his reading glasses, slips them on, and inspects the text message thouroughly, trying to decipher it.

'miss girl fully eating with her fit'

She had sent along a photo as well, highlighting your cowgirl boots, your cute little sundress, and the intricate way that you had styled your hair for the evening. Jack, however, is focused on the tall cowboy character that you're talking to in the picture, smiling up at him as he looks down at you.

He puts his phone down, biting his lip and thinking about how hard he wants to take this. He's not taking it well overall.

'Do you guys need a ride home?'

He asks. It's about 11:30 now, so he would be able to get there at midnight, which he thinks is a perfect time to leave a country bar.

He's already up and changing out of his sweatpants before he gets a text back.

'uhhhh we were all going to get an uber home'

Emily had texted back.

Jack rolls his eyes.

'I'm on my way, be there in 30'

Jack has a white-knuckled grip on his steering wheel as he gets closer to the bar and finds a parking space.

He has to wait in line to get in and pay a $15 cover, which only sours his mood more. He's borderline seething as he enters, his eyes quickly scanning the open space.

He finally spies you, standing at the bar talking to someone.

Instead of being your friends, it's a tall, cowboy-hat wearing tool with a few too many buttons undone on his shirt.

He makes his way through the bar to you, and you don't even notice his presence until he has wormed his way into your conversation, standing directly in front of you.

Your eyes flick over, at first just preturbed about the man in your space, then your expression shifts to shock and a little bit of fear. The look on his face must be severe.

"Jack..." you trail off, "what are you doing here?" you ask.

"Emily texted me." he says, "I'm here to give you all a ride home." he says.

The man you've been talking to seems to think now is a good time to speak up.

"Hey, man, we're in the middle of talking," he argues.

"Not anymore," Jack says, grabbing your wrist and pulling you along with him as he turns to go.

"Jack," you start to argue as he sucessfully pulls you away from the man, deeper into the bar and looking for the other three.

"Not right now." he cuts you off harshly, not letting go of your wrist.

You trail behind him as he finds the other three, and goes to leave with the four of you trailing behind him like ducklings. You give Emily a severe look, pointedly looking down at your wrist caught in his grasp and back to her.

She looks a little guilty, but the look she shares with Jada afterwards tells you that they're enjoying this.

Jack unlocks hiis truck, opening the passenger door for you and then shutting it hard after you're seated.

As he climbs in the drivers side, he opens his phone and gives it to the backseat.

"Where am I going first?' he asks. Jada lives closest, so she types in her address and Jack pulls out of his parking space.

The car is silent, an unseen tension filling the air as he makes his way around the city dropping off your friends.

As Jack pulls up to his home, you scoff.

"What?" he asks in a monotone voice.

"Can you take me home, too? I thought that was where we were going." you ask snidely.

"No," he disagrees, "we're going to go in and we're going to talk." he tells you.

"Oh, are we?" you argue.

"Yeah," he says, getting out of the car and rounding to the other side, opening your door. "Come on," he urges.

You roll your eyes and clilmb out of the truck gingerly. Jack keeps a hand on yoour shouder like you're about to run away as you walk to his door.

As soon as his door is shut behind him, you lay into him.

"What the fuck was that?" you ask, not quite yelling but definitely close.

"I was trying to have a good time with my friends," you complain.

"Your friends? Your friends who were halfway across the bar while you flirted with some guy?" he spits.

"Oh, fuck off," you scoff.

"No, no tell me." he insists, "Tell me about how much fun you were having."

You roll your eyes again and turn away from him. He grabs your shoulders and angles you towards him. He's standing close enough that your head has to be tilted back to look at him.

He looks pissed. His eyes are wide, a red tinge covering his whole face and neck, and his intense look is focused soley on you.

"I told you," you start, measured, "that I was going out out of courtesy," you spit, "I can do what I want, and it was not okay for you to show up and ruin our night-" you're interrputed when Jack cuts you off.

"Ruin your night?" he repeats.

"Yeah, ruin our night!" now you really are yelling. "You show up, make us all go home, and for what? For what, Jack, so stake some kind of claim?" you yell. "You're not my boyfriend, Jack!" you yell.

Jack chuckles wryly, looking up at the ceiling for a moment.

"You know," he starts, crowding into your space again, grasping the tops of your arms. "I don't have to stake any claim," he tells you lowly. "I don't have to, because I already fucking did," he says, pressing you against the length of his body. "I didn't think I had to spell it out for you, but I will." he continues.

"You're mine," he says, and you open your mouth to argue, but he stops you before you can.

"And don't argue, okay? I'm telling you." he's all but whispering now, his face a few milimeters from yours as he speaks with an intensity that has your toes curling in your boots.

"You're mine," he repeats. "I'm not just around because of the baby, but it gives me a damn good excuse." he tells you. "Call me your boyfriend, or your baby daddy, I don't give a shit. You want to call me your fiance and I'll go get a ring right now," he growls. "But whatever you want to call it, you're all mine, and you need to get that through your head."

Despite being 100% sober, his words give you a floaty feeling in your heads as you struggle to put together a string of words, intoxicated by his presence.

"And I get no say in this?" you finally ask.

"I think," he starts, "that if you really wanted to put up a fight, that I wouldn't have even gotten you out of that bar, let alone into my house." he argues. "I think you just wanted to put up a fight and be a little brat."

You don't say anything, but look up into his eyes and keep your gaze locked there.

"Am I right?" he asks.

You roll your eyes and try to move away, only to be stopped by his renewed grasp on you, pulling you into him as he presses a kiss to your cheek.

"You wanna be mine, baby," he says into your cheek, "that's okay," he assures. He drags his lips down the side of your face and presses his lips to yours in a messy kiss.

His tongue plunges into your mouth annd tangles with yours, overpowering any attempt you make at turning the tides of the kiss. He wrenches his lips from yours and skims them down your neck, leaving licks and kisses and at least one bite, for good measure.

"Yeah, I do," you agree breathily as his mouth works on your collarbone.

"Yeah, you do," he parrots around your skin, "good girl," he sighs.

tagging: @michasia24 @veggieburgerwrites @bruher @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @catmomstyles3 @qardasngan @fuckalrighty @rae4725 @beebeechaos @thatssomebadhat89 @cari87 @livingdeadblondequeen @wowitsafemale @neonpurplestars89-blog

let me know if you want a tag!

[chaoticwriting]

Old Friend 3

Part 2

As the bats arrive at the scene, they see goons laying down unconscious with bullet holes scattered everywhere. From their trained eyes, they could see that none of the men were harmed. Not even injured.

They stealthily snoop around looking for evidence or any clue of what's happening when they see an open door leading down the basement. Entering the door leads to a staircase down underground into what is presumed to be a secret lab.

Batman: Scarecrow's lab. Spoiler, Robin. Gather evidence while Black Bat and I investigate further.

Spoiler and Robin: Yes.

The further along they go, the more tubes of green liquids they see. If this amount of fear gas is released in Gotham, even neighboring cities might get affected. They prepare themselves for an ambush when suddenly, they see Scarecrow hanging upside down more bloodied than the goons outside.

They move closer and suddenly, a small light catches their eyes and when they turn, they see Danny sitting on the workbench with a cigarette in one hand and a tin of beer in another.

They prepare themselves for a fight when suddenly, Danny speaks.

Danny: Hey, you got a cure or something for the gas thingy? I don't really care but I would rather not see my family and friends dead and their voices screeching my name.

Startled, Batman takes out an antidote for the fear gas and throws it to Danny. Danny catches it and touches it before jabbing it on his arm.

Batman: What are you doing here?

Danny: Hello to you too Mr. Batman. I'm just here to spend some excess energy. You can take away the guy. No need to thank me.

-30 minutes ago-

As Danny walks down the alley, he can feel the emotions lingering in the city. Fear, despair, anger. If he is a hormonal teenager, these emotions would have influenced him heavily. Fortunately, he is now a full grown adult from a human standpoint and a kid by ghost standard.

However, he also doesn't like these lingering emotions in the air. Unlike Amity Park where the emotions are quite spread out, the emotions here are quite centered. Sensing the source, he sees a huge asylum that reeks of not only negative emotions but also dark magic and divinity.

Yeah, he is not touching that with a 10 foot pole. Suddenly, a burst of fear comes from a warehouse somewhere in the distance. Danny flies there to investigate when he sees the warehouse fully guarded by armed men.

Seeing that none of them looks like good guys plus the burst of fear, Danny lands in front of the building detransformed and takes out 2 batons from his long coat.

The goons start to shout as they see Danny coming close but when they see he doesn't bother with their warning, they start shooting. What they don't expect however is the guy to dodge all of their bullets and then knock them out right after.

When Danny enters the warehouse, all the goons turn to him. If he is in a good mood, he would have made a joke or two. Unfortunately for them, Danny is not really into jokes right now. So he rushes towards the nearest goon while they are still stunned.

It's not before Danny knocks down a few of the goons do they react and reach for their guns. After all, they fully expect the bats or the birds to attack them but not a random guy wearing a long coat with a pair of batons.

One by one, the goons fall as Danny ricochets from one to another. He moves so fast that at some point the goons start to just shoot randomly hoping to hit him.

But alas, for a highly trained assassin, all of these goons are easy work if he wants to kill them. When Danny stops, all that is left are bodies on the ground unconscious. Looking at his coat that is grazed, Danny frowns but continues towards a door that screams "the boss is here".

Entering it leads Danny down a staircase into a room full of tubes. Green liquids fill the tubes as they let out an ominous glow. Touching a drop that falls on the floor, Danny can feel the essence of fear coming from it.

Suddenly, one of the tubes starts to move and empty itself as green gas starts to fill the room. Danny accidentally catches a whiff of the gas and suddenly, his eyesight starts to blur and he can hear screaming all around him.

When it becomes clear again, all he sees is the dead bodies of his friends and families. Dad, mom, Jazz, Sam, Tucker, Vlad, Wes, Valerie and even Cass. All of them, laying on the ground with blood flowing from their bodies. Suddenly, all of them start to chant his name.

"All of this is your fault" One of them says.

"Why can't you save us?" Another one screams.

"You cause this!" All of them shout together.

However, throughout it all Danny barely flinches. His face blank and his body unmoving. He remembers when this was once his nightmare. Living everyday in fear for his loved ones to die.

But all of that has long change. Danny has experienced the nightmare so many times that he has become numb to it. Especially since he knows these are all illusions.

Since all of his five senses are not working, Danny releases a small burst of omnidirectional ectoplasm, which is a technique he learns from Pandora. He called it Ectolocation. When the ectoplasm bounces back, he can feel a figure slowly approaching him. When the figure enters his range, he quickly swings his baton knocking the guy unconscious.

Danny sets the guy upside down then finds a chair to rest. Taking out a can of beer and a pack of cigarettes, Danny waits as he wonders when the vigilantes or the polices are gonna arrive.

@tkiesai @phoenixdemonqueen

[feelbokkie]

L♡VE IN F♡CUS | Chapter 30

WARNINGS: swearing, mention of childhood trauma and abandoment

PAIRING: idol!Changbin x fem reader

GENRE: smau, crack, angst, fluff

P♡V: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

SUMMARY: Amateur concert photographer Y/n has recently been promoted to junior music journalist. Her first assignment? An exposé on the popular Kpop boy group, Stray Kids. Spending an entire tour doing in depth interviews with eight men seems simple enough, but one member isn't exactly open to the idea. Will Y/n be able to break down the walls around his heart, or will her big break turn into a big disaster?

TAGLIST: ♡PENED

W♡RD C♡UNT: 7,260 (i am so sorry)

SCREENSH♡T C♡UNT: 2

A/N: i am so very sorry for the delay. hopefully the wait was worth it

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

©feelbokkie (2024) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

"You know it's supposed to be in the 100s today, right?" Changbin sighs as he flops down onto the couch in front of you. "You're actually going to die from overheating if you go out like that."

You set the iced coffee you're drinking back onto the table and resume scanning the test shots you took of him earlier. Chan sits behind the two of you as the hair stylist finishes fixing his hair. Music plays through someone's phone as everyone else around you cleans up their mess.

The room you're in is one of the spare rooms used specifically to hold the group's concert outfits and whatever they're required to wear for individual schedules. In moments like this, the room doubles as a dressing room when someone has a schedule that requires them to be ready before they leave the hotel.

You woke up late, having missed your first two alarms so that you could join Chan and Changbin for breakfast. By the time you finished getting ready, you had to meet them in the room to take test shots and make sure their overall appearance matched the overall theme of the shoot. Not wanting to delay the day any more than you already did, you were planning on grabbing a piece of fruit from the hotel's complimentary breakfast on your way out only to be met with a muffin and iced coffee when you walked into the makeshift dressing room.

"It's cold right now. I'll take my jacket off later when it starts to warm up." You let out a low sigh before setting your camera aside and resuming your breakfast.

According to your weather app, it's supposed to be the hottest day of the week. You're skeptical given how cold and gloomy it is currently. It almost looks like it might rain any second now. Even if it does get hot later, you're hoping it after you've finished working for the day. You may be able to survive the heat but your camera most likely won't.

"Yeah, but you're wearing all black. That's going to attract heat. You're wearing an oven."

The oven in question is a zip-up hoodie two sizes too big draped over a black tee shirt that's closer to your actual size but still a bit looser around your frame. To top off your monochrome outfit, you're wearing baggy cargo pants and the hat Changbin bought for you. It's a stark contrast from his outfit, a slightly oversized tee shirt with a random faded beach designed with the sleeves and sides cut off into a muscle shirt paired with a pair of baggy ripped blue jeans. You almost want to tell him to bring a jacket just in case.

It's overkill, you'll agree with that. But it hides your figure well while you're out in public. It worked well during the airport trip out of Seattle. Not a single photo of you appeared online and there were even whispers of you being fired from the staff when fans couldn't find you. Having the kids call you 'hyung' helped sell the allusion as well.

“You know you don’t have to do all that anymore, right? They moved on,”

Just as suddenly an earthquake can destroy the foundation of someone’s home, your scandal with Hyunjin did its best to wreak yours. The subsequent and frequent aftershocks made it feel like another one was coming to reduce the rubble to dust. And while a “big one” did come the seismic plates shifted elsewhere leaving a more devastating catastrophe. A new scandal, one much more riveting than an alleged relationship between an idol and their staff member, had captured everyone’s attention.

Someone from a junior group who had just barely gotten out of their rookie period had gotten a girl pregnant.

A bigger quake, one with far more casualties, took the interest of the netizens that circled over you like vultures and they flew off to feed on a more appetizing meal. Leaving you lying in the rubble and staring at the sky as you waited for another aftershock.

“Noona,” Changbin calls softly as he waves a hand in front of your face.

You clear your throat and set the muffin back down. “It’s hyung today, remember?”

A smile slowly creeps onto Changbin's face as he glances over you. “You don’t look like a hyung.”

“Oh?” You clap your hands together to get rid of the remaining crumbs before reaching back to hide any pieces of your hair from sticking out. You fully zip up the hoodie and fluff it out. You pull the brim of the bucket hat down to cover most of your face. “How about now?”

Changbin pauses for a moment before reaching his hand out to brush off a bit of muffin your chin. The sudden touch catches you by surprise. Another pause as he thinks for a second, his hand still on your face. Finally, he pulls his hand away and leans back in his seat. “Too pretty,”

“You do realize what industry you work in, right? Men can be and are pretty.” You say almost too quickly. The room suddenly feels hotter than you know it's been the entire morning. You clear your throat and pick up your iced coffee, pausing for a moment as you bring it to your mouth. You take a quick sip and look off to the side at nothing before adding, “Go look in that mirror over there.”

After a moment of silence, you flip up the brim of your hat so you can see again as you continue drinking. You sit there quietly as Changbin stares at you. The tips of his ears are alarmingly red and the blush on his cheeks is a bit darker than you remember seeing earlier. The corners of his mouth twitch as he tries, and fails, to contain the smile that is quickly taking over his face. “W-well, t-t-that’s not…not what I—“

“Do I look okay?” Chan asks as he walks up behind you, oblivious to the conversation the two of you are having.

You shift your attention to Chan and give him a once-over. He fixes a rogue strand of hair, moving it off of his forehead and into the waterfall of curls leading to the end of his small mullet. He's wearing a faded tight-fitting ringer tee with baggy blue jeans hanging off his waist, just the smallest sliver of his midriff poking through the gap between his shirt and pants. But the second he raises his arms, you know his shirt is going to expose more. "Are you comfortable wearing that?"

"Yes," He nods with a sort of derpy smile.

“Then you look good. Let me take some test shots of you before we go. Go by the window, please.”

“Okay,” Chan says eagerly in a small, almost child-like, voice as he walks over to the large window. The room is far enough away from the ground floor to worry about the windows being open and fans peeking through.

You take a few quick pictures, only using the light from the window to mimic the conditions you're about to work in. After a few solo shots of Chan, you call Changbin over to stand next to him so that you can make sure they look good together. After a few more shots, you go to the gallery and check the images, making sure you don't have to send either one of them back to the makeup chair. Both Chan and Changbin walk over to you and try to look too. Chan stands across from you, looking at the pictures of himself upside down. Changbin comes up behind you, looking at the camera from over your shoulder. The room is suddenly hot again.

"We're good," You quickly shut off your camera and head back to the table to pack everything away again. "Let's go,"

***

You should have known better to trust the weather app. You should have listened to Changbin, not that he was correct either. Not entirely anyway.

It's not in the hundreds, but the high nineties might as well be. The breeze that occasionally blows through is more like the air that comes out from the exhaust of a car than the expected cool and refreshing summer breeze.

You sent Chan and Changbin off to go take selfies for inclusions while you sit off in the shade of a tree fanning your camera with your bucket hat at a nearby park. It overheated while you were taking a duo picture of Chan and Changbin at the beach. Annoyingly, it shut off right before you could take a picture of Changbin chasing Chan holding a stick with a bit of seaweed hanging off of it. Or rather, you hit the shutter, and then it shut off. Hopefully, if there was ever a moment for luck or god or whatever to be on your side, the picture got captured before the camera shut off.

"Is it working now, noona?" Changbin plops himself beside you on the grass.

You let out an annoyed sigh at Changbin refusing to help with your cover by calling you 'hyung.' It's one of the main issues of the day with him. At first, when you took pictures of them while you were out in the street or in other parts of the city, it was fine because most people were still in their homes. But as the day drags on, there are more opportunities for them to get spotted, only adding to your stress.

"Did you finish taking those selcas I asked for, Changbin-ssi?" You ignore his question while you try turning your camera on again.

"Yes,"

"Did you send them to me?"

"Yes,"

"Alright," Once the camera turns on, you turn it off again and get up from the grass. "Let's go find Chan and shoot somewhere else."

You grab your jacket from the grass, quickly shaking it off and checking each part of it. While you're busy making sure your jacket is free from grass stains, Changbin wastes no time grabbing your camera and camera bag. "About that...how about we go somewhere indoors for a while. We can cool down and not worry about your camera. There's an arcade near here that's pretty much empty and it looks nice inside."

"Did you go off wandering by yourself when were supposed to be working?" Now clean, you tie your jacket around your waist as you look up at Changbin. Strands of his hair from his curtain bangs are now sticking to his forehead. Before you do anything, you're going to have to let the makeup artist fix him up again. Luckily for you, they promised they would stay nearby just in case.

"I was working," You go to reach to take your things from Changbin just for him to sling them over his shoulder. "I just happened to find the arcade while I was walking. It's pretty cool in there too."

You try to take your things again but Changbin takes a half step back. Frustrated, you scratch the back of your head with one hand and rest the other one on your hip. "We have to get permission to take pictures in there. Did you even ask?"

A blank expression flashes across Changbin's face as he thinks for a moment.

"That's what I thought," You mutter to yourself.

"There you two are!" Chan calls from behind you. Both you and Changbin turn around to find the leader jogging towards you with a small plastic bag hanging from his arm and three cups in his hands.

"Did both of you go on side quests?" You scoff in disbelief, an amused smile creeping on your face.

"I was walking back and I saw a fruit stand...Sorry, the pineapple got me." Chan gives you a shy smile before handing you a pink drink. "It's strawberry lemonade. Fruit is good for you when it's hot like this."

Defeated, you take the strawberry lemonade and walk over to the picnic tables in the corner of the park. Chan and Changbin follow behind you, animatedly talking about something you can't hear. You shove your hat back on your head as you sit down on the bench. You're more exposed now and there's no way someone isn't going to recognize the loud pair.

"What were you two talking about?" Chan asks when he reaches the table. He places the bag and the last cup in his hand on the table. Changbin has the other one, a pale yellow drink.

"Changbin wants to go shoot inside of an empty arcade." You sigh as you finally manage to get your things back from Changbin as he sets them on the table.

Chan's eyes light up with a slight twinkle. You can almost picture a tail wagging behind him excitedly as he stops going through the plastic bag. "Really?"

"Yeah but noona says we can't go."

"Hyung," both you and Chan correct him.

"And I didn't say no. I said that we have to get permission from the owner. They'll probably say no." You add.

"Should we go ask? It'll be cooler at least. And we won't have to worry about other people." Chan pulls out three fruit cups from the bag and leaves two of them in the middle of the table. He wastes no time opening the last one and immediately goes for a piece of pineapple.

"That's what I said!" Changbin shouts excitedly as he grabs Chan's shoulder and shakes it, nearly making the older man drop the grape he was trying to eat.

You shoot Changbin a quick glare before rolling your eyes and fishing your phone out of your bag to check the time. You let out a quiet sigh when you see that you have about an hour and a half left of the allotted time for the pictures. If you didn't have to deal with your camera overheating, you wouldn't have wasted so much valuable time. "It'll probably be easier to go to the arcade. I was hoping we could head up to the Hollywood sign and take some pictures, the view is supposed to be beautiful."

"I like the view from here," Changbin says suddenly. His voice soft and small, almost as if he didn't mean to voice his thoughts.

"Hmm," You glance over at Changbin. His eyes are focused yet soft as he stares at you, a small hint of admiration in them. You put your elbow on the table and rest your chin in the palm of your hand as you look back at where you were earlier. Just across the sidewalk, you can see the ebb and flow of the ocean hitting the sand. You almost avoided going altogether, but something about the way Chan and Changbin screamed 'beach day.' It would have been a waste otherwise. "Yeah, the view is pretty nice."

"The ocean always looks beautiful," Chan speaks behind his hand through a mouth full of fruit. "You two should eat though, I think the sugar is starting to attract bees."

You hum quietly as you continue to watch the water, almost like you're lost in a trace. Something about the beach is calming, even if you're not physically on it. Just staring is enough to slowly pull your worries away. Your free hand wanders to the middle of the table, reaching for the fruit cup.

You yank your hand back quickly as something brushes against you and there's a sudden stinging sensation at the tip of your fingers. You sit straight up and look at your hand, flipping it around while trying to find a sign of injury. Three fine lines appear on your forehead when you don't even find a scrape on your skin. You look back up at the cup, trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

Ba-dum

Your face softens with your mouth hanging slightly ajar when you find Changbin also examining his hand in confusion. Despite the California heat cooking you alive, a chill runs down your spine eliciting goose bumps to spread across your arms and legs as Changbin's head snaps up. His sparkling eyes locked on yours with an expression that only mirrors your own.

"What just happening?" Chan asks confused as he looks between the two of you.

"Nothing..." You reply as you shake your head, bringing you back to reality. "I have to call your makeup artist so she can do some touch-ups before we go. Eat your snacks, I'll be back."

You can't get up any faster as you nearly trip getting up from the bench. Your heart does inexplicable somersaults in your chest as you walk away from the table.

What the hell was that?

***

"Chan, I guarantee if you stick your tongue out cheekily and wink with the tip of your straw or top of your slushie showing, Stay will absolutely lose their minds." You call from the floor of the arcade.

"Like this?" Chan asks as he perfectly replicates what you tell him to do.

"Exactly!" You cheer as he snaps the picture on his phone before taking a bite of fruit.

After your call with the makeup artist, you managed to find the arcade Changbin was talking about and talked with the owner. Or rather, the owner's son who didn't care what you did. You could have told him that you were robbing the place and he would willingly give you the key to the register and go back to scrolling on his phone.

You took a few pictures of Chan and Changbin playing various games for the next hour. You did your best in the dimly lit arcade and the flash of your camera. You should be able to edit the pictures later, but it's probably going to take hours to do so.

After you finished working, you sent Chan and Changbin to take a few more selfies while you parked yourself in the corner to eat your fruit cup and check the pictures. Your time is up with them but Changbin is engrossed in a claw machine in the back of the arcade. With no rush for the rest of the day, you decided to just sit in the air-conditioned room while you finally ate your snack. At some point, Chan disappeared and reappeared with slushies for the three of you and played some games while he waited for Changbin.

"Ah, my tongue is blue..." Chan notes as he checks the picture on his phone.

"It'll be fine. Just send it to me." You brush off.

Nobody's set foot in the arcade the entire time you've been there, fortunately. You're not sure if it's because of the obviously outdated games like Dance, Dance Revolution and Donkey Kong or the music that makes you feel like you walked into a different decade. Either way, you're thankful for the break.

"We're going to be here forever..." Chan groans as he sits down next to you.

"He really wants one of those toys, I guess." You shrug. Changbin's eyes immediately locked onto the claw machine the second he saw it earlier. Every time you weren't taking a picture, his attention would drift back to it. Eventually, you took a picture of him playing it and he hasn't left yet.

"Yeah, but it might be cheaper to just buy whatever plush he's trying to get at this point." Chan leans his head against the wall and takes another sip from his slushie.

"Yeah, you're probably right. It'll probably end up being the most expensive thing he buys during this leg of the tour."

Chan hums in agreement looking out in front of him. After a moment in silence, Chan pulls his phone out of his back pocket and responds to a message on his phone. From the corner of your eye, you can see a long text thread.

"Noona, do you want to come to dinner with us tonight?" Chan asks as he sets his phone down in his lap.

"Dinner?" You shift your attention to Chan. It's still too early in the day to think about dinner.

"Seungmin hasn't shut up about kimchi jjigae for about a week and Hyunjin found a place in Koreatown that's supposed to be really good. It's a hole-in-the-wall sort of place too."

"I would love to but I have a lot of things to get done tonight. A few comebacks are happening next week and I haven't done my reviews for them yet." You lie. You're ahead of album and come back reviews that you're done for the entire month of June barring any surprise drops.

"Take it from one of the biggest workaholics in the music industry--maybe even in the whole world--but you don't have to work every minute of every day."

You shove another piece of fruit in your mouth. "I'm not working right now."

"Technically you are." Chan chuckles.

"Eating fruit is my job?" You joke.

"That's a dream job. I wish I knew that was a possibility."

"Maybe in your second life."

"I'm being serious though. Not about the fruit thing. About the working thing. You're going to burn yourself out."

You set your now empty cup down in the space between you. "Didn't I overhear you and Changbin talking about meeting up with Jisung later tonight to work on some music?"

"That's different. We actually take breaks. We just are going to have a quick meeting, we're not going to record or anything like that tonight."

"I take breaks."

"That is the biggest lie I've ever heard come out of anyone's mouth. You're worse than Seungmin." Chan scoffs, his head lazily turning towards you.

You keep your eyes forward, staring at the title screen for Galaga. Even if the restaurant is not popular--even if the attention is no longer on you, you can't go out with the group. If anyone spots you out with them, it'll cause more trouble than it's worth. If you sit even in the same vicinity as Hyunjin and someone spots you, the chaos will start again. Even if you sit as far away from Hyunjin as possible, people will say that you're just doing it for appearances to throw off the media. You can't win either way. Unless you refuse to play altogether.

"Look, it's fine. It's better if we keep a clear...boundary between me you the eight of you. That way there aren't any more misunderstandings and you guys don't have to deal with the added stress."

"Yeah but..." The thought dies in Chan's throat. He knows you're right. The scandal with Hyunjin wasn't just inconvenient for the two of you, it affected the entire group. Fans had been attacking the other members online either getting mad at them for not mentioning the "relationship" earlier or begging them to be single. A huge mess all around.

"Okay, we can leave now." Changbin walks up suddenly. His hands shoved into his front pockets.

"Out of money?" Chan teases when he doesn't see a small stuffed animal anywhere on Changbin's person.

You laugh to yourself while you get up and pick up your bag and trash from the floor. You toss the cup in a nearby trash can and adjust your bag on your strap.

Changbin shakes his head as he pulls his hand out of his pocket. He stretches a fist out in front of him before opening his hand. Palm facing down, something small falls from his hand. It only falls for a second before it's suspended in the air, being held by a small loop still connected to Changbin's hand. The object moves around a bit, swinging back and forth before you notice it's a small stuffed cat drinking a coffee keychain.

"You spent all your time over there and that's what you got?" Chan laughs as he pulls himself off the ground. "You could have gotten that at a dollar store for less than what you paid."

Changbin shrugs nonchalantly as pulls the cat charm back into his fist. He moves his fist more towards you and, with his palm facing up this time, opens his hand again to reveal the cat.

"All that for a keychain?" You ask in disbelief. You've been waiting for him for at least 20 minutes.

"Yeah, but it's not really my style. You can have it." He sticks his hand out more towards you as he tries to offer it to you.

You stare at it for a moment. It's rather cute the way the black cat is holding a cup of iced coffee. "Shouldn't you give it to the resident cat enthusiast?"

"No," Changbin takes your free hand and places the plush in the palm of your hand before making you close your fingers around it. "But it reminded me of you so I think you should have it."

Ba-dum

You press save on your laptop before letting out a large yawn and stretching your arms over your head. After a few seconds, you lower your arms, pulling your shirt back down with one hand and rubbing the back of your neck with the other. You tap your phone screen after fixing your shirt to check the time.

3:09 AM

“Shit…” You mutter under your breath.

You didn’t plan on staying up this late. When you got back to the hotel you immediately got to work importing the pictures you took today. Because of the damage to your laptop, everything takes longer than it should. So, while you waited, you took a small nap, which ended up being longer than you intended. You woke up close to dinner time so you went and grabbed food from a nearby restaurant and ate while you worked.

Editing the pictures also took a little longer than you thought it would. The gentle breeze caused stray hairs to fly around. And you had to do a lot of color correction for the arcade pictures. You also had to reformat the images that Chan and Changbin sent you to save you time later. You were so locked in, you weren't aware how long you were actually working. Luckily, you don't have to be at the venue until the afternoon. So can sleep in a little if your body will allow it.

While your laptop, held together by duct tape and prayers, saves your work you go and take a shower to get ready for bed. You’re busy wrapping your hair in a towel when you walk over to check if it’s done. The huffing and puff of your computer overheating from doing a basic function makes the room hot. You turn the air conditioning on and walk back into the bathroom to do your face routine. Just as you finish, so does your computer.

3:25 AM

You shut your laptop off and double-check that your camera batteries are charging. Once you’re satisfied, you grab a Ziplock bag from the pack on the TV stand and your room key before leaving.

The stillness of the hotel hallway is eerie. It's almost like you stepped into a space where time doesn't exist. It's different from the hallway of an apartment building where you can hear signs of life no matter the time of the day. Hotels, on the other hand, feel almost haunted by everyone who ever stepped foot in them.

You walk to the end of the hall towards the ice machine. As you get closer, the humming of the machine fills the void of quietness. Nearby is the elevator. You don't have to worry about anyone coming up. The entire floor is blocked out for the tour and for added security, the only people who can access the floor are those with the code. Amid the scandal and learning about how there's at least one person working for The Seoul Star: Supernova who is tasked with following the members to catch them in a scandal, your one sense of relief is knowing that they can't come up to the floor.

You fill up your Ziplock bag of ice and make your way back to your room. You hum quietly to yourself as you try to figure out what time you should wake up tomorrow and whether or not you should head over to So-Fi Stadium early to get some footage of fan interactions. You went and got some pictures of the fans camping out back in Seattle but you heard how insane the lines were for the merch presale yesterday. It's expected to be just as insane tomorrow...well, later today.

"Ah,"

You're attention is brought back to the present when you bump into something--no someone--causing you to stumble a bit. You don't fall, your collision wasn't that hard, but their hand rests on your upper arm to prevent you from falling further.

"Sorry, noona. I didn't think anyone was out here." Changbin says quietly. He releases his grip around your arm once he senses that you're stable.

"It's fine, I should have been paying attention." You brush off awkwardly. If you thought you were going to run into anyone, you would have gone out without the towel on top of your head. If it wasn't for the fact that the hallway is cold and your hair is still wet, you'd pull it off right now to save yourself from further embarrassment.

You look back up at Changbin only to be met someone almost unrecognizable. His face is pale and a little clammy. His hair is sticking up in all different directions and looks like it might stay that way. His eyes are darting around looking for...something. His body is so tense that he's shaking. Genuine concern feels your body. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Me? Yeah, no I'm good." He breathes, his voice shaky.

"So good that you're just wandering the hallway at three-thirty in the morning?"

Changbin presses his lips into a fine line as he tries to come up with a half-decent answer. He looks everywhere else but you. "What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?"

You hold up the bag of ice in front of his eyes so he can see it clearly. "I was working too long so I need to ice my wrist before bed."

"You wouldn't need to ice your wrist if you came with me to the gym more often to strengthen your wrist."

"I know you didn't come out here to lecture me about rehabilitating my wrist." You lower the bag again and tap Changbin's arm, forcing him to look at you. "What's really going on?"

More silence sits between the two of you. The only thing filling in the quiet is Changbin's slow, shaky breathing. A dull pain in your chest appears as you continue to watch him.

“I know I don't exactly give off a comforting vibe," You pause for a second, choosing your words carefully. "but you can talk to me if you want. Completely off the record.”

Changbin laughs to himself quietly. "Last week you were going on about how you don't need to be taken care of or people to care about you and yet, here you are."

You ignore his remark, hardly reacting to it at all. He's right, you don't need to be taken care of or burden other people with your issues. But taking care of others is your nature.

Changbin shifts from foot to foot while he studies your face, almost like he's trying to read your brain and find some sort of ulterior motive behind your words. After looking for a moment and unable to find anything, his eyes soften.

"I...I couldn't sleep," He says simply, his voice tight and crackling.

"Oh?" You reply simply, urging him to keep going.

"It-It's nothing," Changbin says quickly. He leans back against the wall next to him and slides down into a crouch. He lowers his head between his knees and runs his hands through his hair. "I'm just being stupid."

Your body is faster than your brain as you move to sit next to him. By the time your brain catches up to your body, you're unsure of what to do next. Too many seconds are passing between the two of you.

"I don't think you're being stupid. Sleep isn't always easy. I can't even imagine the amount of anxiety coursing through your body the night before you perform in one of the largest venues in the world." You bump shoulders with Changbin, trying to cheer him up.

"It's not that," He lifts his head and leans it against the wall. "I...I have these really intense...dreams? Nightmares? I don't get them often but when I do...it’s just not a good feeling."

“What do you do when you get those dreams?”

“I just go to one of the members. But I'm pretty sure everyone is asleep right now. Even Chan hyung."

"And you talk about your dreams with them?"

"No," His eyes are focused in front of him as his hand absentmindedly plays with the plush carpet between the two of you. His hand accidentally brushes against yours for a moment, causing him to freeze for a moment before he continues. "But we would just talk about whatever. Or watch TV...listen to music...play video games."

You bring your knees to your chest and rest your wrist in a way that allows you to place the ice pack on it comfortably while you hum to yourself in response. "When my niece and nephews had trouble sleeping or had a nightmare I would tell them stories until they fell asleep again. Sometimes I would just hum too if I was too tired."

"You're an aunt?" Changbin's head snaps in your direction. You pick a spot on the floor and focus while the gears turn in Changbin's head.

"That's what you heard in that entire sentence?" You scoff in disbelief.

"I heard about the story part but you're so quiet about your personal life, it's shocking to hear you give up information like that willingly. I didn't even know you had an older sister until her live streams came out. You never talk about your home."

"Seoul is my home." You correct almost defensively. You pause for a moment, collecting your composure as an uneasy feeling brews in the pit of your stomach. “I know what you’re trying to say but that…place never felt like home.”

“I’m sorry for bringing it up. You don’t have to explain everything if it’s that uncomfortable. I was just curious about the noona lore.”

“Noona lore?” You laugh, a genuine one that fills your chest with warmth.

“Like I said, you don’t talk a lot outside of work things. It almost seems unfair that you know so much about us and we know hardly anything about you. But I understand if it’s hard to talk about. Your sister is a bit…”

“She’s a bitch. You can say it, I won’t be offended.” You finally look over at Changbin, who stares at you with an amused look on his face. His lips are slightly parted with one corner curved into a smirk and eyes wide as saucers. “She’s 42 and somehow I’m more mature than her.”

“42?”

“Hm,” You hum in response. You ponder for a moment if you should even be telling him this. Weighing your options, you let out a sigh before starting again. “My mom had me late. My sister was turning 13 when she had me. I had an older brother too. He had just turned 18.”

Changbin’s face drops immediately in the middle of your explanation. “Had?”

“He’s not dead or anything!” You say quickly. “It’s slightly more complicated than that.”

You’re not exactly sure why—maybe it’s the ambiance of the hallway or your lack of sleep catching up with you—but you consider telling Changbin everything. How your siblings are actually your half-siblings. How their father was long gone off somewhere far away from the shit storm that is your mother. Eventually, she met your father and fell head over heels in love with him. At some point, he stopped loving her and her solution to get him to stay was to trap him with a baby. A baby he definitely did not want. He did try though, according to your sister. He stayed with her for your sake and all was well. But soon after you were born he was certain that parenthood, and a relationship with your mother, was not the path he didn't want to go down. From then on, your mother shifted the blame onto you. Your brother, freshly 18 decided to not go to university like he was originally planning and stayed to take care of you and your sister as your mother grew more neglectful and out of control. When you were old enough to start going to school and your mother was stable enough to actually care for her children, your brother decided to go back to school and earn a degree so he could get a proper job and help out more. Maybe even adopt you once he was a bit more financially stable. Like a switch had flipped, your mother went insane going on about how he was abandoning like both of your fathers. She kicked him out and threatened to call the police if he came back or if he talked to you or your sister. He tried after that. He’d still take you to and from school. Gave your sister lunch money and made sure you had something to take with you for lunch. And when your mother found out, she kept her word and called the police claiming that there was an abduction attempt. He didn’t get arrested but he knew that she would keep calling until he actually was behind bars. So for his sake, and yours, he stayed away.

But you spare him the sob story. Nothing good comes from reminiscing this late at night. And you’ve already gotten emotional in front of Changbin more times than you’re comfortable with in the last couple of months. Besides, it’ll give him another reason to pity you and that’s the last thing you want. So instead, you face forward and tell him a half-truth.

“We just lost contact over the years.”

Changbin nods, understanding that you're not willing to go further. More silence fills the hallway. A soft thud comes from one of the rooms. You're almost certain one of the other members, probably Jeongin, rolled off their bed.

Sensing the uneasiness radiating off of Changbin, you hold your good arm out, palm facing up, for him to take. He hesitates only for a moment before taking your hand. You're not sure why, if it's the heat of his hand or general exhaustion quickly taking over, but you feel hot. Like someone on the hotel staff just turned up the heater for the whole building. A new sound, a loud rhythmic thumping, rings in your ears as the two of you sit there, holding hands and saying nothing.

"What stories would you tell your niece and nephews?" Changbin asks suddenly.

"I would mostly just repeat the fairytales I would hear in school. My eldest nephew was born when I was 5. The other two were born when I was 9 and 10." You think for a moment trying to recall those fond memories with your niece and nephews. You quietly chuckle to yourself when you remember a botched version of Jack and the Beanstalk that you once told them. "I might have taken some creative liberties though."

"Tell me one?" He asks softly. His voice is small and laced with sleep.

"You want me to tell you a children's bedtime story?" You smirk lazily as you turn your attention back to the younger man.

"You can tell me any story you want to. Or you can just talk about whatever. You can even recap the day if you want." His voice hushed, a whisper of tenderness in the almost intimate moment. "I honestly don't care what you talk about. Your voice is so calming, I can just listen to it all day. It's...it's almost like listening to my favorite song."

Ba-dum

You think for a moment, your brain suddenly devoid of every story you've ever heard. So you make one up. It's more nonsensical jumbled-up words than anything. You're almost certain you blending in some actual children's stories and creating a convoluted story loosely based on Wonseok and Frankie about two members of a trio that hated each other and ended up falling in love. At some point, around the time the two main characters start to fall in love, Changbin's head lands on your shoulder. He was slowly slumping over as you were talking earlier so you weren't as surprised at the sudden contact. You would have thought he fell asleep if it wasn't for the familiar drumming of his fingers along the back of your hand.

As you finish the story, silence hangs over the hallway like a comforting blanket. The thumping noise, now louder, is still present. But so is Changbin's calm, even breaths. Part of you worries about how uncomfortable this position must be for him. Another part of you worries about how you're going to wake him up. If anyone walks out of their room and sees the two of you in the hallway sleeping hand in hand, there'll be rumors spreading through staff and the members like wildfire.

You're slowly nodding off yourself in the tranquil silence. Your eyes are shut and your head is resting on top of Changbin's.

"Noona?" Changbin asks suddenly.

"Hm?" Is all you're able to manage in your sleep-ridden state.

The drumming on your hand stops mid tap and for a second you're convinced he's just talking in his sleep. His breathing is still even and quiet, not showing any sign of stirring.

You push the ice pack off of your bad wrist and decide to let yourself rest for a few more minutes before waking up Changbin and sending him off to his room.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Ba-dum

Your eyes shoot open and the pounding in your ears gets louder and faster. Your mouth is impossibly dry as you try to swallow the lump in your throat. You can't remember how to breathe.

“…What?” You ask after a minute. You look down at Changbin, who hasn't moved an inch from his position, in disbelief as you replay what you just heard in your head.

I think I'm falling in love with you.

Maybe you fell asleep without realizing it? Maybe you're dreaming? Maybe you're losing your mind?

Still, you can't bring yourself to look away from the sleeping man on your shoulder. The man who spent the first few months of you two knowing each other hating you. Who completely shut you out and made working with him difficult. The man who frustrates you to no end for reasons you can't begin to understand. Who has been slower to warm up to you than an oven during dinner prep.

Changbin slowly lifts his head off your shoulder and looks up at you, his eyes conveying a vulnerability that you've never seen in him before. He brushes a stray lock of damp hair from your face and tucks it into the towel on your head, his touch lingering as he drags his finger back down your face. Your breath hitches in your throat the longer he stares at you.

“I’m falling in love with you."

Ba-dum

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

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[joelmillers-wife]

take my hand (joel miller x f!reader) chapter eleven

18+, MDNI series masterlist: here | please check this for complete series warnings and tags | 🎵series playlist pairing: joel miller x f!reader chapter summary: after your night together, joel has special plans for the both of you he’s been preparing wc: 13.8k rating: this story is 18+ (minors, do not interact), there will be explicit smut in later chapters  chapter warnings and tags: cursing and tlou lore accurate outbreak content below, reader has no description besides she has hair and can be lifted, jackson!joel, age difference: reader is in her 30s and joel is in his 50s, slow burn BUT NOT ANYMORE, tons of fluff, explicit smut, kissing, praise kink, dirty talk, oral (f!receiving), face riding, unprotected piv sex (USE PROTECTION), soft!joel, joel talks you through it, begging, creampie, aftercare, lmk if i missed anything!! ao3 | follow @writtenbynic and turn on notifications for chapters! dividers made by: @saradika-graphics , check them out!

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XI. THE AIR THAT I BREATHE

Making love with you Has left me peaceful, warm, and tired What more could I ask There's nothing left to be desired Peace came upon me and it leaves me weak So sleep, silent angel Go to sleep Sometimes, all I need is the air that I breathe And to love you

Something that’s always irked you about your room was your window. With the way your house was facing, the sun always rose on the side of your bedroom window. This means that if you didn’t remember to tuck your curtains behind your dresser, the sunlight would peak through the space and angle the brightness directly on your face. It’s such a small detail that really only annoyed you on days when you wanted to sleep in. Days like today.

You squint your eyes as you blink them open, the light hitting them directly and making you screw your face up and shift to stare up at your ceiling. Looking up, you notice something… no, someone in your peripheral, momentarily making you freeze.

Faint sounds of snoring make you remember who’s beside you—remember what happened last night. As your body becomes more alert, the foggy feeling of sleep leaves your brain and you begin to focus on your surroundings. The feeling of a warm body pressed against your back, the weight of an arm slung across your waist, a thick leg slotted loosely between your own, feet tangled underneath your sheets. The snores you hear leave a mouth you feel inches from the back of your neck, warm air hitting your skin with every slow exhale.

Your body sags back into the mattress and you tuck your hand underneath your pillow as a smile graces your face, so wide that it strains your cheeks. Memories flip through your mind like film—snapshots of breathy moans and the feeling of heavy weight on you has you pressing your thighs together to soothe a slight ache. Although, the movement makes you aware of the soreness you felt between your legs that serves as a physical reminder of the events from the previous night.

You register the dry feeling in your throat, prompting you to want to get up and drink the water that sits on your bedside table before using the restroom. You bite your lip, holding your breath as you slowly and quietly try to slip from Joel’s hold to sit up.

You’re able to get his arm off you enough until only his fingertips graze your waist, and push yourself up onto your elbow to sit up more. You shuffle your legs to slide them off the side of your bed before you feel Joel’s arm reach back around your waist to grab a firm grip on your stomach and pull you back into his chest, closer than you two were a moment ago.

You wince, feeling bad for having woken him up, but that feeling melts away as he mumbles into your hair. “The hell you think you’re goin’, darlin’?”

Your breath catches in your throat as he speaks, sleep making him sound raspier than usual—a deeper voice that vibrates through his chest and against your body, making your heart stutter as you instinctively press your thighs together again. You hear and feel him let out a sigh behind you as he nuzzles his face into the back of your neck, inhaling your scent.

“I was gonna get up and–”

“Mm… No you’re not,” he says, tightening his hold around you. His southern drawl coats his voice even more in his sleepy state, something you think you could hear for the rest of your life.

You bite back a smile at his words, raising an eyebrow before turning your head to try and look back at him. “Oh really?”

“Mhm,” he hums. “You’re too warm. Need you to stay.”

His pouting tone has you lose your fight to stifle a laugh.

“Joel…” you draw out in a whisper. “I really have to pee.”

He lets out a stubborn whine that grows in volume as he stretches his body, ending in a loud groan as he moves himself to lay on his back, freeing you from his hold. You sit up in bed and look back at him lying there with the covers bunched at his waist, one arm slung over his eyes while the other spreads out over the pillow you just had your head on, lips swollen and downturned in a small pout. You wish you could take a picture of this moment—his soft, sleepy features mixed with thick, toned arms… 

Why did you have to get up again? 

“Hurry up and go pee. Need you back ‘ere ‘fore I start gettin’ frustrated.”

Right. That’s what you were getting up for.

Playfully rolling your eyes, you dig your palms into your comforter and carefully push yourself to a standing position, legs wobbling slightly as you feel your muscles throb from the soreness.

Reaching down to take a drink of water, you feel eyes on you and shift your gaze to find Joel squinting one eye open underneath his arm, watching you with a smirk at the weakened state of balance he caused. 

“Don’t even fucking start,” you lightheartedly warn. His smirk widens into a full grin, chest moving as he lets out a deep laugh before he leans his head further back into your pillow and shuts his eyes.

Cocky motherfucker.

You walk over to your bathroom, closing the door before you go to pee. Moving to stand in front of your mirror to wash your hands after, you see marks from the previous night—light bruises littering your neck where Joel had sucked on the skin. You lift your shirt up to see very faint finger-shaped bruising at your side, reminders of the grip he had on you in an act of passion and need. You trace your fingers gently over them, not feeling any pain, but rather pride that something was left on you to show you it was real.

A ghost of a smile grows on your face before you open the door and find Joel in the same position you had left him, chest rising and falling steady as if he fell back asleep. You take a moment to stare at him, your heart aching. 

You walk around to his side of the bed, bending down to pick up and put away some of the clothing that had been hastily thrown across your room. Straightening back up, you feel a hand grab yours to pull you down, a yelp escaping you as the fabric you hold slips from your grasp.

Joel shifts his body to lay on the opposite side he woke up on, pulling you down to lie on your side and facing him. Your mind catches up with the movement and you sigh longingly. Your face sags into your pillow as he places one arm around your waist, palm spread across your back as he pulls you closer to him, the other arm bent underneath the shared pillow.

His face is mere inches from yours, so close you can feel soft air that he exhales from his nose, chest moving slowly against yours. You take the moment to admire his face—eyes shut and features softened into a tranquil state. Face free of any harsh lines, a contrast from the scowl and frown he tends to have permanently on his face. You’re stunned by how beautiful and perfect he looks. This is what he deserves, you think. This feeling, free of any worry and struggle. You wish you could pocket the serenity of this moment and be able to give it to him again and again.

Feeling your stare, Joel slowly blinks his eyes open, eyelashes fluttering against the tops of his cheeks. The moment his eyes meet yours, a sleepy smile causes his lips to quirk up.

“Hi, pretty girl.”

Your throat feels tight as his words overwhelm you. 

“Hi.” 

The memory of the similar greeting from last night hits you both, Joel urgently leaning his face into yours to slot his lips against yours like a puzzle. You sigh into his mouth, body melting at his touch until he pulls away far too soon for your liking. “How you feelin’, darlin’?” 

You nod. “Good… really good,” you finish, feeling shy at your admittance.

Joel’s smile grows. “Me too, baby.”

His honesty without hesitation makes your head spin, relishing in his touch and his closeness to you. You never thought of yourself as a touchy person. The opposite, if you were being honest. Touch was always scarce to you, not having anyone close to you to provide a loving touch. Almost every touch you can remember was harsh, whether you were being grabbed by infected or human threats. The only other touch beside Joel’s that wasn’t threatening was from Tommy and Eugene the day they found you and brought you to Jackson, and the occasional hug from Ellie. Over the past year of being Joel’s friend, being touched by him became a common occurrence for you, realizing that he always seemed to have a hand on or hovering over you any time he was close.

“Want me to go downstairs and make some coffee?” You offer, your thoughts returning to the present.

“Oh, I thought you only drank tea,” he teases you.

You roll your eyes, opening your mouth to make a sarcastic comment back, when you hear the sound of your front door opening followed by footsteps. The noise makes you both freeze in fear, before you hear your name being called. “You home, honey?”

Maria.

You both widen your eyes as if caught, hearing her say, “I tried knocking and got no response, and your front door wasn’t locked… Just wanted to check in on you.” Her footsteps sound closer as you realize she was heading to walk up your steps.

The realization makes you both jump up, quickly scrambling to throw on clothes in a panic, thanking whatever higher being there was that you at least remembered to close your bedroom door before you had gone to sleep. 

Maria calls your name out again in concern, before you call out in response in a high-pitched voice. “Ye– yes! I’m home, sorry, I…”

You trail off as you search through your drawers trying to find pants to throw on. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you knock. I slept in, but I’ll be downstairs in a second!”

Voice a mix of worry and confusion from your tone, she responds, “Okay, no worries. I’ll wait for you in your kitchen.”

Hearing her footsteps retreat, you whip around to see Joel struggling to put his leg through his jeans, hopping on one foot slightly. You whisper yell at him, “You forgot to lock my fucking door?!”

He looks around at the floor, trying to remember the moment last night where he was meant to leave but turned around and kissed you. “I… I mean I was kinda fuckin’ distracted, sweetheart!”

Your panic doesn’t falter, looking around your room for some form of escape while waving your arms out. “Okay, okay just… just stay up here and I’ll go reassure her I’m fine.”

He nods in agreement before you turn and reach for your bedroom door knob, being cut off when he hisses out a whispered, “Wait!”

You turn, confused until he points to your shirt. “You're still wearing my shirt.”

You look down before muttering a curse. As quick as possible, you dig through your sweater draw before you throw on a random one after removing Joel’s shirt.

You take one last look at him before he gives you a quick once-over, offering a thumbs up before you open your door.

Quickly jogging down the stairs, neck reaching to look into your kitchen entrance to see a sign of her in there, you speed walk into your kitchen to see Maria leaning against your island. You give her a big smile, voice cracking as you say, “Hi!”

Her eyebrows twitch into a furrow as she gives you a small, confused smile. “Hi… you’re oddly chipper?”

You take a gulp, settling your nerves. “Oh, just… Ellie was over yesterday to show me some comic books, so… I’m in a good mood I suppose.” You hope that sounds convincing. 

Seeming to believe you, she nods, her expression settling into a warm expression. “I’m really glad, honey. Sorry to stop by unannounced, I wanted to see how you were holding up today and got worried when your door wasn’t locked.”

You nod in false knowing. “Yeah… yeah I was super tired last night so I guess I forgot to lock it before I went to bed,” you end with a shrug and a soft laugh.

A soft clatter is heard from upstairs, Maria looking up there confused as you tense up. 

“My towel rack keeps falling,” you rush out. She gives you a quizzical look as you add, “Damn screws loose—been forgetting to get that fixed.”

Looking slightly amused, Maria says, “Maybe Joel can get that fixed for you–know he’s been working on a lot of things here.” You give her a firm smile before she continues, “Well, I wasn’t going to keep you long. Had time to stop by before I have to head for a town meeting.” She begins walking out of the kitchen and towards your front door with you following in tow. “Happy to see you’re feeling alright.”

Walking past your couch, she stops short. You follow her gaze to see Joel’s guitar leaning against the back of your couch.

For fuck’s sake.

“Ellie brought that over here yesterday. She’s been wanting to teach me, so… showed me a few notes. Guess she left it here before she went to Jesse’s place.”

Maria nods and looks over her shoulder at you, giving you a smile. “Guitar playing and comic books. It makes sense you were so tired.”

You try to return her smile as genuine as possible, your nerves coursing through you like crazy as you anticipate her leaving to prevent an awkward encounter.

You open the door for her, the two of you saying your goodbyes as she walks down the steps. As you start to shut your door, she calls your name, turning around like she remembered something. Raising your eyebrows, you wait for her to speak.

“By the way, you might want to wear a different sweater if you go into town today… maybe something with a turtleneck,” she says, eyes dropping to your neck and pointing to her own.

You freeze, slowly looking down to realize the top you hastily grabbed happened to be one of the only scoop-neck sweaters you own, currently showcasing the purple and red splotches that span your chest and neck.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding.

You reach your hand up to your neck, holding the base before you look back up at her with a tight-lipped smile, cheeks red from being caught as you notice the smirk on her face. “Also, there’s some clothes on your stairs. Could be a tripping hazard.”

Oh… she knew the whole time.

“Thanks, Maria…” you quietly mutter. 

She laughs with a shake of her head, making her way down your walkway onto the street.

You close the door, leaning both your palms against the door and lightly bang your forehead against it. Behind you, you hear the sound of footsteps hesitantly walking down your stairs. You turn to see Joel standing at the base of the stairs with his arms crossed over his chest, now dressed in his jeans from yesterday and the shirt you went to sleep in, leaning against the railing with a similar smirk that Maria had a moment ago.

“Heard ya got a towel rack that needs fixin’.”

You watch as he tries to suppress a laugh while you give him a warning look. You point up in the air, spinning your finger around before moving to point it at him while saying, “This was all your fault.”

No longer able to hold back, he barks out a loud laugh at that, shifting into a small chuckle when you try to march past him and into the kitchen. He stops you by reaching out for your hand with his, your face pouting as you let out a whine.

“Hey,” he says with a wide smile on his face. “It’s okay, darlin’, she doesn’t care.”

You fight the urge to stomp your foot as you place your palms on his chest. “I know, just… that’s so awkward. What if she tells Tommy?”

Joel’s expression doesn’t falter. “So?”

At his nonchalant response, you realize how stupid you sound. You suppose a part of you thought Joel wouldn’t want people knowing about you two, if there even was a “you two”. 

His calm demeanor transfers onto you, causing you to huff out in response, the anxiety of the awkward experience leaving you as you drop your forehead onto his chest. Joel laughs, soothingly rubbing your back with his hands before he pushes you back by your shoulders. “Why don’t we keep things just between us for now? Savor the moment and all that. Would that make you feel better?”

“Us and Maria,” you correct, grumbling slightly. Your response only makes Joel’s grin widen. “That’s right. Us and Maria.”

You nod because in truth, you don’t mind Maria knowing. It’s more the embarrassment of being caught before you can even figure out what you and Joel are now—before you can even enjoy yourselves without others knowing.

Cutting you out of your thoughts, Joel offers, “How ‘bout I cook us up some breakfast? Promise there will be both tea and coffee.”

It annoys you, almost. How easy he’s able to calm you. How he has the ability to ease your worries in an instant. 

You nod and let him take your hand to lead you into the kitchen where you watch in comfortable silence as he moves so effortlessly around the space, having been in your home often enough that it’s like he was made to be here. Finishing cooking up some eggs and toast for you two, with tea and coffee, he informs you of his plans for the day.

“Promised Ellie I’d fix Dina’s family’s mailbox today, so I gotta go home to change before I do that. Then I might get some late lunch with Tommy down at the Tipsy Bison. You wanna join?”

Having finished your meal, you listen to him with your head propped in the palm of your hand, leaning your elbows on the table. “No, that’s okay,” you say. “I have some shopping to do. I need some new winter clothes—lots of mine are all tattered from last year so I wanna get ahead of that before fall starts. Plus, apparently I have to pick up some more coffee grounds on the way home.”

Joel smiles at you, nodding in understanding before he clears his throat and you watch his expression shift to uncertainty. He sets his fork down, grabbing his coffee cup before looking at you. “These next couple days I got some supply runs to make with Tommy, but I was wonderin’ if you were free over the weekend?”

You think about it briefly before nodding. “Yeah, I’ll be free. You got something in mind?”

“Was just thinking… Would you, um… would you wanna come over for dinner?”

Your eyebrows go up a bit at his question. “Dinner?”

His words come out more sure this time. “Yeah, I want you over for dinner. Make ya a proper meal and what not. Like… a date.” At the last part of the sentence, he shifts his eyes down to his now empty coffee mug.

The sentiment of the offer, along with his shyness that comes with it, makes your heart pound. A smile grows on your face as you try not to seem too excited while letting your voice slip into a soft and teasing tone. “You wanna take me on a date, Miller?”

His cheeks burn red at your words and teasing tone. “Yeah… I really do, darlin’.” He looks back up at you with a shy smile, relief coursing over him as he sees your smile. 

“I’d love that.”

His smile grows as he stands up, taking your plates before washing them in your sink. You both fall into easy conversation as you help dry the clean dishes—Joel only giving you grief for helping him once, muttering an, “I got it, darlin’, don’t worry.”

Progress.

Needing to get to Dina’s, you walk him to your door where he grabs his coat that lies on your stairs from last night, taking his guitar with him before stopping at your door. He leans down to plant a slow, long kiss to your lips. Your body melts into him on instinct, head tilting back as Joel lets out a hum of approval at the feeling. 

He pulls away, kissing the tip of your nose before smiling at you. “Shouldn’t be too busy this week, so I’ll see you ‘round ‘til Saturday night, yeah?”

You nod, your brain feeling fuzzy. “You got it, Miller.”

His smile grows at your agreeance, hand twisting your doorknob to open it, you watch him as he walks across the street and into his own home. You close your door and turn around, body alight with anticipation for the weekend.

The date never came. 

It wasn’t Joel’s fault, at all. In fact, he was getting increasingly frustrated as the days went on, which only amused you.

Those couple day supply runs with Tommy turned into finding a few abandoned posts out west, which led to more groups needing to go over there and collect everything to bring back home—Joel included. 

When they came back to gather more crew members to take on the journey, he was able to stop by your house for a few hours. You softly scolded him, saying he should spend the little time he had to rest. “This is restin’,” he’d said as he sprawled on your couch next to you, propping his face on his hand as the other played with your hair. He said he wanted to hear about your days, so you did as he watched you attentively. 

Boring, you told him, because it was. Usual stable work, helping out around town, getting some food from the markets and spending some time with Ellie whenever she got out of school.

You didn’t include the many hours you spent sitting in your house looking out the window and eyeing the clock, as if it would make time go by any faster and bring him back to Jackson any sooner.

So, Joel had to move the date to the following week when they got back. The same week that just so happened to be when the mess hall’s plumbing system broke. 

You remember that Monday morning when Joel had come to your door with some pastries Ellie brought home from Dina’s. He was all warm smiles with tired eyes—his body sagging a bit from the weight of the previous week’s labor. Regardless, he still had made time to see you that morning. The first time he’d seen you in days ever since they came back the second time, and he spent all of twenty minutes in your kitchen before there was knocking at your front door. 

You opened it to find Tommy, who said he was looking for Joel and couldn’t find him in his own home. The younger Miller looked disheveled and panicked, but annoyed. Hearing the noise, Joel had walked to your door and immediately rolled his eyes at the sight of his brother.

Tommy started mentioning something about busted pipes, the cooks not being able to get everything out on time due to the lack of water, and that Joel’s help was needed and urgent.

“I know, man. Last thing I want today is to have to deal with this after we just got back but it’s urgent,” Tommy said, pleading with his eyes.

Joel sighed deeply, looking at you with remorse which you quickly brushed off. “Don’t worry about me. You go be the town’s Bob the Builder and when it’s all done you can finally rest.”

He softly scoffed at your comment and promised he’d see you that night. Except, there ended up being more problems with the pipes than was originally thought, so he got home late and stopped at your house to tell you it was going to be a three day job. 

You could see the frustration in his tone and body language, mixed with the longing in his eyes—similar to how you were feeling on the inside. More than anything you wanted to be alone with him, and you could see he wanted the same thing, but you didn’t want to rush him or make him feel bad. Things happen, and you reassured you would see him when you see him.

The next couple days passed by slower. You would stop by at the mess hall to catch a glimpse of him—bringing him lunch or coffee as an excuse to be close to him, even if briefly. 

You two were in public, though, and neither of you wanted to share what you had just yet. Because you hadn’t had a proper moment together since that night, it was agreed that for right now, you wanted to keep it between you two.

Plus, Maria. Maria, who, while quiet about it, couldn’t help but send you a knowing smile when she saw you come in each day to bring something for Joel. 

The first time you did it, she made a remark about having nothing for the others. Thankfully, she whispered it to you so no one else had heard, but that didn’t stop your face from growing warm. You would look at her and see the teasing nature in her features, but there was also a softness to them.

It was her who you had gone to about your conflicting feelings for Joel. She was the one who you had confided in. And, despite her own worries about Joel, she was honest in what she thought he felt for you—something you’d be forever grateful for.

So you returned her smirks, and you tried to ignore the way she’d watch when you spoke with Joel, only to look over and see her with that same suppressed excitement on her face. The look of, I told you so.

Joel was subtle about things when he saw you. A lingering hold on your hand as you gave him a coffee mug. His body would stand just inches closer than it needed to be. Stopping out back to get some fresh air, when really he just wanted to kiss you without eyes watching. It was killing you, really. The burning itch to feel him and be close to him only grew each passing day.

When the job was done, and everything was fixed, Joel came to your house first. He trudged through your doors and fell onto your couch, throwing his head back and sighing deeply with his eyes closed and the heels of his palms digging into his shut eyes. You made him a plate of the dinner you were preparing for yourself, wishing you had made more, but you thought the project wouldn’t be done for another day.

The two of you spent that night talking and watching some movie in your living room as you ate, but his eyes grew heavy and you forced him to go to sleep. He only argued a couple times before he asked, with his brown eyes round and big, if he could stay here with you. You could’ve rolled your eyes at his dramatic puppy dog look, but really there was nothing you wanted more either. 

When he washed up and got dressed for bed, he sank deep into your mattress and in your arms before sleep took him swiftly with you following suit not long after—feeling like you could breathe better with him there.

The next day, Joel woke up practically bouncing on his feet. You squinted at him, wondering what he was so excited about, when he mentioned the date. That’s when your eyes fell shut and you cursed. “I promised Ellie I’d help her with her art project today. She has to do a portrait of someone in town by tomorrow.”

His face flickered with sadness for a moment before he smiled. “That’s alright, darlin’. Can’t say I’m mad at the idea of a portrait of you being made.” You smiled at him when he finished his sentence with a wink. “How’s tomorrow night sound?”

“Perfect,” you replied, relief flooding you.

Clean, warm clothes are a luxury that you’ve quickly gotten used to during your time in Jackson. Having a closet and drawers filled with different colors and fabrics was something so rare in this world. 

Most times you only had the clothes on your body—the material stained and torn from blood and dirt. Over your time here, you had begun to pick out different articles of clothing that felt more suited to you, yet the simplicity stuck with you, keeping your choices to a minimum.

You’ve never regretted that more until now.

You look over at the clock on your bedside table for the hundredth time, reading 6:17 p.m., only two minutes from when you last looked. Turning back to your drawers, you begin to dig through them again, a frustrated groan ripping from your throat at the fact that you didn’t magically have more clothes appear.

You had finished all your plans for the day, coming back home around five in the evening to shower and get dressed for your dinner with Joel. Washing up didn’t take long. What’s taking so long is trying to find something somewhat nice, something that isn’t just a neutral colored shirt and a pair of jeans. Would’ve been nice if you thought of this problem while out shopping for clothes for the upcoming winter, you think.

You slam your drawer shut, marching over to your small closet door to flip through the hangers in there. God, how did you have nothing nice? People here had dress shirts and dresses, why the hell did you not have any? 

You know why—because you’ve never cared. Your appearance never bothered you in the slightest, seeing yourself and your clothing as only ever something that either helped or hurt your chances of survival. 

Tapping your foot and biting the inside of your cheek, your eyes quickly scan for something that looks somewhat decent, like you put thought and effort behind it. Your best option right now seems to be some deep burgundy long-sleeve top and the nicest pair of dark jeans you can find paired with some combat boots.

Finished dressing, you walk yourself over to your mirror, looking over yourself with hypercriticism—uneasiness consuming you. You let out a sigh before deciding to stop overthinking it. For almost two weeks, you had been anticipating the evening that kept needing to get pushed off. It’s just dinner, you tell yourself. A date. You can do a date.

Stopping at your bathroom mirror to try and fix your hair, you make your way back to your dresser to find some necklaces Maria had given you for your birthday. Looking at your clock, you see you have about twenty minutes still before Joel shows up, so you decide to wait by fixing some stuff up around your house.

… Or pace in your kitchen, biting your nails nervously. Both options seemed productive.

Time seemed to move slower as you kept walking in circles around your kitchen island, eyes flicking to your clock hung on a wall here. Two minutes before seven, you hear three knocks on your door. The sound immediately puts you into action, walking quickly to your door before pausing with your hand hovering over the handle. You try and force yourself to relax, taking a composing deep breath in before slowly opening the door.

You were met with Joel standing on your door mat, shifting on his feet with his left hand in his pocket and the other placed behind his back. Taking in his form, you see his attire of his typical combat boots on, faded dark wash jeans, and a black buttoned-up collared shirt—noticing on the arm that was exposed that he had the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows, making you focus on his toned forearms, your throat going dry at the skin.

You lift your eyes to see his hair slightly damp, the waves pushed back with a few stray curls dipping in front of his forehead, and a freshly trimmed beard. He smelled of sandalwood and vanilla and whiskey and… you needed to calm down.

Eyes meeting his own, you find him looking over you as well as his Adam's apple bobs in his throat.

“Hi, darlin’.”

The sound of his honey-coated voice makes you feel like your knees could give out. Whatever nerves you had immediately dissipates at the sight of him. At hearing his voice. You aren’t given a chance to respond when he moves the arm placed behind his back to showcase what looks like a hand-picked bunch of flowers tied with a white ribbon—red roses, asters, and poppies organized neatly.

You stare at the flowers, lips parting open slightly as you feel your throat constrict with emotion. “You got me flowers?”

A sheepish smile grows on his face. “It’s silly, I know, but… what can I say? I’m an old-fashioned kinda guy.”

You shake your head as you try to prevent yourself from tearing up. “It’s not silly. They’re beautiful, Joel… thank you.”

Hearing your reassurance that you like them, Joel’s smile transforms into a more confident one and he gently hands you the hand-made bouquet. You take them and bring them to your nose. “Where did you get these?”

Joel shrugs with one shoulder. “Jackson’s greenhouses have roses sometimes, so I stopped there. Luckily they had ‘em, and the poppies I had seen on a trail outside Jackson—went with Tommy earlier to pick ‘em.”

You find yourself unable to speak and Joel just takes over. “You wanna put ‘em in your place or bring ‘em with us?” He trails off, frowning to himself. “Shit… I should’ve had some set up for dinner too.”

You smile at his nervousness and offer, “How about I put them in a vase in my kitchen, and take a couple to bring to yours?”

“Sounds good to me, darlin’,” he says with a bright smile.

You quickly rush in to fill a vase with water and put the flowers in them before taking out five or so to bring with you, and walk back to meet Joel outside. He gives you a soft smile when you turn back from closing your door, and places his hand at the small of your back to guide you both across the street to his home.

He ushers you inside first and the smell of food coming from the kitchen hits you instantly. You peer into his dining room, which is almost never used, to find one of the seats on the longer side of the rectangular table has been moved over to sit close to the chair at the head of the table. Placed on the table in front of the seats are pairs of utensils, napkins, and empty wine glasses. Candles are set around the table to add light to the room along with the tall lamp that sits in the corner. 

You look back to him, stunned, and find him eyeing your reaction for reassurance. With a soft laugh he leads you over to the seat at the head of the table, pulling out your chair for you before pushing you in gently.

“Let me go put these up and then I’ll set up the plates,” he says, before taking the small bunch of flowers into the kitchen and soon comes back with them in a tall mason jar filled with water. After placing them in front of your two seats, he kisses the top of your head and disappears into the kitchen behind you. 

You take the moment to look around, taking in the details that surround you that he clearly put thought into. You can’t recall a time where anyone had put in so much effort to prepare something special for you, even from when you were a child before the outbreak.

Behind you, you hear the sounds of plates clanging and pots banging before Joel’s footsteps appear. Rounding the table, he places a dish in front of yours and his seat, filled with what looks like steak, roasted potatoes, and carrots prepared on the plate. He walks over to his wine rack in the corner of the room, pulling what he knows is your favorite red wine, and pouring them into the glasses set before you both

You take a deep breath, looking at Joel as he sits into the seat on your left. “Joel…”

He looks up at you with nervous but kind eyes as you try to find the proper words. “This is… this is all so nice I–” You have to swallow before adding, “I just… thank you.”

A smile graces his face, eyes glittering in the warm lighting. “‘Course, darlin’,” he says softly, and like it was the simplest gesture ever. “Now I ain’t the best cook, but I tried to make somethin’ that seemed simple enough,” he ends with a laugh.

You pick up your utensils and begin cutting into the food. “I’m sure it tastes as good as it looks.”

You were right. The meal was delicious with the wine pairing amazingly. As the two of you continue to eat your meals, you dive into conversations about yourselves, things happening in town, properly talking about how your days have been in between your previous rushed interactions. Joel goes into the workings of the plumbing crisis—complaining about some of the other workers who had attempted to fix the issue before Joel and Tommy got involved.

After sharing a bit about the topic, Joel sets his fork and knife down onto his plate before speaking. “So… Tommy knows.”

Your silence as you freeze when bringing your glass to your mouth is the only response Joel gets for a moment. “Yeah,” he says. “Looks like Maria told him.”

“What did he say about it?”

At your question, he rolls his eyes when recalling the memory. “Nothin’ bad. Mainly just got on my ass about, ‘It took you long enough’,” he ends in a scoff before frowning. “Started sayin’ some shit about me gettin’ somethin’ called… eject… ejection dis…”

You choke on your wine, looking up at Joel with wide eyes to see him holding back a snicker as his expression sits between amusement and concern at your reaction. “Erectile dysfunction?!” You blurt out after you catch your breath.

Joel looks up at you confused, nodding. “Yeah, that. The fuck is that?”

You wipe away the bits of wine that are sliding down the sides of your mouth and swallow before looking down at the tablecloth. “Um… it’s like, when you’re older…” you trail off at the end with a wince, feeling bad for the words. “And, like, your… penis struggles to… ya know.”

Joel’s eyes widen and flash with anger before bringing his fist down on the table and pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers, muttering, “Fuckin’ dickhead.” A second later, he looks up at you with his brows furrowed. “Wait, how the hell you know ‘bout that?”

You shrug. “Health class, I guess?”

He looks off and sighs. “Well shit. Guess that’s what I get for droppin’ out.” Another thought seems to come to his mind, shaking his head in confusion. “Wait, wait… darlin’, how the hell you know about this… ‘erection malfunction’ shit, but looked confused when I wanted my mouth on ya?”

The crassness throws you off guard a moment before you reply, “I don’t know… they didn’t really teach us about that stuff, I suppose. It was mainly just periods for the girls and erections for the guys.”

Joel shakes his head in disbelief at that. “Shit’s fuckin’ stupid. Ain’t nothin’ valuable came from those damn classes.” 

He focuses back on your meals, placing his hands on the table and standing up when he notices you both have finished. Grabbing your plates, Joel begins to walk into the kitchen which prompts you to get up with the intention of following him. He turns sharply back at you, giving you a look of disapproval. “Hey, uh-uh, sit your ass back down,” he says playfully.

You give him a deadpan look. “What, so you always have to wash my dishes yet I can’t help you with yours?”

Joel looks at you like the answer is obvious, nodding his head to tell you to sit back down. “I don’t have to wash your own dishes, I just want to. What I have to do is take care of your properly tonight by makin’ you dinner and putin’ away my own damn dishes,” he says with exaggeration. “Now, sit, I have a surprise for you.” You roll your eyes playfully, sitting down and waiting for him to come back.

After a few minutes, you hear him returning behind you telling you to close your eyes. “Is this where you kill me?” You ask, eyes already shutting.

You hear him laugh before placing something in front of you. “Don’t have any immediate plans for that yet, darlin’,” he teases.

You smirk and feel him sit back in his seat, telling you to open your eyes. It takes you a moment to adjust to the dim lighting, but when you do, you notice a plate of about ten pieces of…

You gasp in disbelief, snapping your head up to Joel with your jaw dropped and eyes wide. At your reaction, his cheeks flush and he gives a small smirk, looking proud of himself.

“Is that… Joel, are those chocolate-covered strawberries?” You ask incredulously.

He nods. “They sure are, baby.”

You begin looking between him and the fruits placed in front of you that are drizzled with ropes of chocolate, trying to figure out how. 

Noticing your stunned silence, he speaks up. “I remember you sayin’ your favorite dessert from before was chocolate-covered strawberries… Now, the strawberries were easy to get from the farmer’s corner, obviously. But–”

“But the chocolate?!” You half screech out.

Laughing at your reaction, Joel continues. “Yes, the chocolate… Eugene somehow had some cacao beans. He showed Maria, Tommy, and me how to make some chocolate a few weeks back and, well…” He trails off and gestures to the plate. “S’why I was real annoyed with our date gettin’ pushed back. Wanted to make sure I had the proper chance to get these made for ya.”

Joel grows more nervous at your expression and silence. Trying to minimize the effort, he says, “M’sure it’s not as sweet as it could be, but–”

“Joel,” you interrupt firmly, looking at him with big eyes. “You. Made. Chocolate.”

Joel takes your tone for happiness, his nerves calming a bit. “I did,” he softly says.

You keep looking back and forth between him and the strawberries, mouth fluttering open and closed, wishing you knew enough words in the English language to express how you feel inside. 

Feeling Joel reach out to take your hand in his gently, he speaks your name to grab your attention. “Was this okay?”

You look at him like he’s crazy. “What the fuck kind of question is that, Joel? This is…” 

Unsure what to say, you lurch yourself forward, bunching up the front of his shirt as you grip the fabric there, pulling him into you for a kiss. You hear a surprised sound in the back of his throat, body freezing for a moment at the unexpected act before leaning into you and meeting you with the same amount of force.

You linger on him before pulling away, the two of you breathing rapidly as you stare at each other’s lips, the space between your faces small. You feel warm all over as you realize how flushed your cheeks feel, having a feeling it wasn’t just because of the couple of glasses of wine you had been nursing.

Swallowing the saliva that has accumulated in your throat, you slowly lean back into your seat and notice Joel’s own flushed appearance—how dilated his pupils are, even in the dim light. 

Joel matches your own gulp, clearing his throat before gesturing to the dessert. “Help yourself, darlin’.”

You reach to grab a piece, staring at it in awe before wrapping your lips around the fruit and biting down, a moan leaving you instinctively as the sweetness fills your mouth, eyes falling shut. He was right—it wasn’t as sweet as standard chocolate might’ve been years ago. But you didn’t care. It was still the best thing you’ve ever tasted in decades.

You peer up at Joel and find him staring at the dessert being held up to your lips, his mouth parted open slightly as he holds a clenched fist on the table beside his wine glass.

“Good?” He asks, voice thick and hoarse. You eagerly nod. “Very good. Joel this is… God, I can’t believe you made this.”

He seems to steady his thoughts a bit more, chuckling before taking his own strawberry as the two of you continue to finish the plate.

A short while later, strawberries finished and the wine bottle empty, Joel takes your hand before leading you upstairs. “Don’t think I’ve ever properly showed you the upstairs.”

He was right—all your time spent here was either in the kitchen or living room, and almost, if not always, with Ellie present. The most you recall is when you had come up here drunk one night, taking back your sweater when you saw Joel’s guitar.

Making your way to a door, you notice the small tables along the open space at the top of the stairs—photos of Joel and Tommy placed on them along with pictures of wildlife hung on the walls. Details that you hadn’t noticed in your drunken state before.

He pushes open the door to his office revealing desks along the walls, a makeshift workshop, you realize. On the desks lay carvings of wood—really beautiful wood carvings in all sorts of shapes. Reference photos that seem to be ripped out from books showcase different animals and are pinned above the desk. Wolves, deer, moose, horses… all meticulously carved to unbelievable accuracy, the art leaving you in awe. On another table lay pieces of guitars and guitar strings as well as cleaning equipment, paintbrushes, and different tools for them.

“Do you make guitars?” You ask with a soft gasp, stunned.

“Not quite. I find pieces and refurbish ‘em to make ‘em look and sound more new.”

That bit of information makes your heart swell in size, astounded at how privately talented and creative this man was. 

You look over to see a chair in one corner of the room with a stand placed in front of it—sheet music booklets are opened and propped up there with guitars hung on the wall it sits against.

“Joel… these are… fuck. This is all so beautiful,” you say, turning to him and lifting your brows in emphasis.

His cheeks and the tops of his ear redden even more at your words, bringing a hand to rub the back of his neck. “Guess I should start makin’ ya somethin’. Never really expected people to find interest in this stuff.”

You look at him in disbelief at his doubt. “This is… so fucking cool.”

He smiles bashfully and leads you to a closed door at the end of the hallway—a door you previously thought was his bedroom.

He opens it, making you realize you were right. As you walk into a large entryway, you see a long dresser sitting at the end of the space with paintings propped up on the sides right below a wide window. To your right is a spacious walk-in closet—a quick peek inside showing you the many coats and flannels you have seen him wear everyday, including his classic light brown winter coat with fur lining the collar. 

Past the closet, closer to the dresser, is his bathroom. Glancing inside, you see it’s also fairly big with two sinks and mirrors at the vanity, and a bathtub with a showerhead that matches yours. 

To the left of the entrance to the area is his actual bedroom. A tall and wide open entryway showcases his large bed placed against the left side of the wall, a huge painting of horses in a field hanging over the headboard, and a big carpet laying underneath his bed. Across from his bed is another wide window with a lounge chair sitting in the corner right beside a small desk with a lamp. Other details you notice about the room include the tall bookcase that has a combination of books and wood carvings, a chest at the foot of his bed with a cushion for seating, floating bookshelves with more stacked books, a wood carving of the state of Texas hanging on his wall, and a box of vinyls next to a guitar propped up beside his bookcase.

The main thing that grabs your attention is, back on the dresser directly ahead of you when you first walked in here, two photo frames sitting on either side of a wood carving of an eagle. You walk towards it and hear Joel take in a sharp breath and hold it as he hovers behind you, but makes no move to stop you. 

You pick up the photo on the right of the eagle to see a picture of Ellie and Joel at the stables, Ellie seeming to be around the age she was when you first arrived in Jackson. Smiling at the glimpse of his memories, you set it down before you look over to the photo on the left. 

You feel Joel walk up behind you, wrapping his arms around your stomach and leaning his head onto your shoulder. You frown in confusion as you pick up the other photo, seeing a young man in a grey shirt, arm slung around a young girl wearing a blue and white striped jersey, holding up a trophy and a peace sign, both of them smiling wide on what looks like a school field.

Your expression morphs into realization—the gasp that leaves you making Joel’s grip around you tighten, inhaling deeply behind you.

The man, you realize, is Joel. A younger Joel, but taking a closer look, it’s impossible to not recognize his beautiful brown eyes and charming smile. And the girl…

“Is that…” you trail off, fingers ghosting over her face in the photo.

“... Yeah,” Joel says into your ear, voice cracking. “Was after she won a soccer tournament.”

Your throat tightens and you say the only thing you thought when you first picked up the photo. “She’s beautiful, Joel.”

You feel a shudder from his body against your back, a shaky breath leaving him. “Must’ve gotten it from her mom.” 

You reach your right hand up to the side of his face over your right shoulder and turn your face back to look at him, noticing the glassy look in his eyes that you assume matches your own.

“I see so much of you in her, Joel. She’s as beautiful as you are,” you say, sincerity filling your tone.

Joel stares at you, eyes flickering between both of yours and his lips parted in surprise at your words. He blinks furiously and he clears his throat—the sound of your voice as you say it makes it hard to not believe you.

You look back down to the photo, about to place it back down when you notice what’s on his left wrist in the picture.

“Hey,” you softly say. “That’s your watch, isn’t it?”

You feel Joel nod against your shoulder. “It is. Sarah got it fixed up for me for my… um, as a surprise, I mean. It’s since gotten cracked and don’t work right anymore, but…”

Without needing to finish his thought, you understand what he means—placing the photo down and turning yourself in his arms. You interlock your hands behind his back, leaning your chest into his as you tilt your head back to look up at him. He lifts his hands to hold the sides of your face as you say, “Thank you for this.”

He stands there a moment, silent, looking at you intensely until you speak up again. “Thank you for showing me these parts of your life. For allowing me to see glimpses of your life with these two girls.”

Joel’s eyes flick between yours rapidly, sucking in his breath as his brows push together and form a hard line. He looks down to your mouth, leaning into you to press a slow, sweet kiss on your lips. You instantly reciprocate, matching his movements with your own. 

He pulls away, taking your hand and leading you towards his room, encouraging you to take a deeper look around as he sits on his bed. You walk over to his bookcase, head tilted to read the titles of the books on the spines. You shift your attention to the box of vinyls, bending down to flip through them for a minute.

When you straighten back up, you notice a robe on the back of Joel’s bedroom door that makes you want to smile at the thought of him wearing it. You walk past Joel sitting on his bed, noticing him watching you meticulously as you walk up to the bedside table on the side of the bed he sits on. You reach down to grab a book that lays on the table. An Idiot’s Guide To Space, you read.

Holding it up in the air, you look back at him questionably as he lets out a small laugh. “Ellie’s doin’. The kiddo loves space so much I decided to try to learn more about it.”

It’s moments like these when he says something like it’s the most obvious thing in the world that makes you wonder if he knows how thoughtful of a human being he is.

You lean to place the book back down on the small table and Joel speaks up again. “Speaking of Ellie…”

You walk a few steps over to him when his hand reaches out to grab yours and pull you close to him—stumbling a bit at the tug and placing your hands on his shoulder as you steady yourself. He spreads his legs open to have you standing over him between his thighs as he wraps his arms around the back of your thighs and pulls your body to arch into him, his chin resting on your stomach as he looks up at you. You look down at the sight, feeling your throat go dry from the way he’s looking at you.

“I think we should tell Ellie first before she hears anythin’ from Tommy and Maria,” he says.

You nod your head as your hands move to the back of his head to absentmindedly run your fingers through his soft curls. “Okay,” you respond. “We can try and find some time this week to tell her.”

Joel’s eyes shut at the feeling of your touch, opening them a moment later for you to see more black in them than brown. Your stomach twists in knots at the look on his face that reminds you so much of how he looked at you that night, weeks ago, and you feel his touch around your thighs burning your skin through your jeans.

He moves one hand from the back of your thighs up to the small of your back, pressing enough to cause you to fall forward at the loss of balance. You try to right yourself as your knees fall into the bed on either side of his hips, your hands moving from his hair to his shoulders to try and take some of your weight off him. 

This position causes you to straddle him, a fact that Joel seems more than pleased by based on the smirk that crosses his face. He moves his hands to place one on your hip and the other underneath your chin, your face now level with his as you both sit vertically on the bed. He runs his thumb over your bottom lip, the touch making you unconsciously part your mouth ever so slightly, Joel taking the chance to dip the very tip of his thumb between your lips. On instinct, your lips close around his finger, bringing out a deep sound that mimics a cross between a groan and a growl from the back of Joel’s throat.

Swallowing deeply, he whispers in a raspy tone, “Did you wanna spend the night here with me?”

You nod without thinking, mouth opening as he slips his thumb out from between your lips for you to stutter out a response. “Ye–yes…”

He nods, eyes trained on your lips. “Good… I want you here with me. I got plans for us.”

You giggle at that. “What’s with you and all these plans, huh?”

He smirks, face moving even closer to yours until your lips are brushing against each other. The contact makes you lean forward, but he pulls back ever so slightly in a teasing manner, causing an involuntary whine to leave your mouth and Joel’s smirk only grows at the sound.

“I have lots of time wasted with you to catch up on. Plus, I need to do my due diligence as an American citizen to make sure you get the proper education you lacked in health class.”

You snort but his teasing tone and implication behind his words make you press your thighs together. Thankfully, he pushes forward to kiss you hungrily, your mouths opening instantly to let your tongues twist and slide over each other. It’s messy, more desperate—the two of you having broken the barrier of uncertainty, leaving only pure carnal wants and needs.

You take a deep inhale through your nose, pushing yourself further into him as your hands begin to grab and lightly tug strands of his hair at the nape of his neck. His hand that was on your chin slides into your hair, matching your own grip you have in his hair while his other hand roams wildly across your back and to your hip, groping your skin as if he can’t get enough.

At some point, without you realizing, you began to lower and grind your center over his, only now feeling the result of the contact when the hardness under his jeans nudges your core. You gasp at the feeling, face pulling away to drop your jaw to your chin. Joel takes the opportunity to tug gently, but with purpose, at your hair, forcing your head back to expose your throat to him. With access to your neck, he begins to lay hot, open-mouthed kisses to the skin—switching between sucking, biting, and licking the space.

The feeling causes you to moan lightly, your hips moving harder down against him, the friction forcing a whimper to leave your throat.

Hearing your reaction, Joel reaches his hands down to the hem of your shirt, mumbling out a rushed, “This. Off. Now.”

You let him lift the shirt up and over your head, his hands already grabbing at the clasp of your bra and undoing it with ease, sliding the straps down your arms and throwing it somewhere on the floor behind you.

His mouth lowers and latches onto one of your hardening nipples—pleasure washing over you as he continues the movements he made on your neck onto your chest.

Equally desperate to feel him, you fumble to undo the buttons of his shirt. Your struggle catches Joel’s attention and he looks down briefly before ripping the rest of the few buttons of his shirt off, shrugging the material off him quickly. 

You gasp in shock at the action. “Joel! Your buttons just–”

He cuts you off, hands pulling your face back this his, mumbling against your lips. “Don’t fuckin’ care about no damn buttons, darlin’.” You have no chance to respond as his kiss causes your brain to malfunction for a brief moment before kissing him back with the same urgency.

Something comes over you and you reach down to unbuckle his belt, slipping it off and hearing it clatter to the ground with a soft clink, your hands shaking as you unbutton his jeans and slide the zipper down. At the realization of you initiating the act, Joel seems to go feral, his hands moving down to your own jeans before he gestures to you to stand up off him. “Lemme take these off you, baby.”

You swiftly obey, standing so he can unbutton and slide your jeans off, leaving kisses to the tops of your thighs as he reveals the skin. His finger slips into the sides of your underwear before he slides those down and has you step out of your last bits of clothing.

You stand there as he lifts his hips up to take off his own pants and boxers, his hardened cock hitting his stomach. Your heart pounds at the sight as he pulls you onto the bed. “Need you on my mouth, darlin.”

Dizzily, you nod in understanding and move to lay down on the bed before you pause—confused when Joel leans back so his head hits his pillow. Why is he the one lying down right now? Did he mean something else?

He looks up at you, raising an eyebrow in impatience before you ask, “What are you doing?”

“Waitin’ for you to get your next health class lesson,” Joel says with a stifled laugh and a smirk.

Your face scrunches in further confusion. What?

His eyebrows twitch in amusement for a moment before the realization dawns on him—you truly don’t know what he means.

Joel leans up with his face softened, more gentle, and pats his chest. “You’re gonna straddle me, okay?”

Still slightly confused, you crawl your body over him until you hover over his cock. He pats his chest again, taking your hand and tugging you to crawl up. “Need you higher than that, darlin’?”

You feel frustrated at your lack of understanding, before you look between his chest and his mouth, your mind slowly catching up as your eyes widen and your mouth flutters open and shut. “Wha– what? Why? You… I can’t do that.”

He lets out a soft laugh. “You absolutely can, darlin’. In fact, I highly encourage it.”

You shake your head as insecurity takes over you unexpectedly. “You… I– Joel, I’ll suffocate you?” You say with your voice going up in question at the end.

His eyes fall shut in pleasure before he looks back up at you. “And I can’t tell ya how much I want that, pretty girl.”

The name makes your head spin momentarily before you shift nervously above his hips. Seeing your hesitation, Joel drops the teasing nature and rubs his hands up and down your arms soothingly. “Darlin’, if you really don’t want to do this, then you absolutely do not have to, okay? M’not forcin’ ya, I just want you to know that I want this.”

Your eyes scan his face for any sign of a lie but find none. “Are you absolutely sure? What if I hurt you?”

He takes your hand in his, wrapping his pinky finger around yours. “Swear I’m sure, baby. Believe me, you ain’t gonna hurt me.”

You sit there for a moment, debating while Joel lays patiently without judgment. You chew the inside of your cheek before you place your hands on his chest and begin to crawl your body further up his.

A low moan leaves his lips, Joel helping you situate yourself properly until you hover over his chest—his hands wrapping around the backs of your thighs to keep a grip on your hips.

His eyes lock onto your pussy before back to your face, the sight so sinfully beautiful that you let out a gasp. Your anxiety oddly mixes in with the desire you feel—overwhelmed with having a clear view of him below you and his breath feeling hot against your aching center.

“Already so wet for me, darlin’,” he mumbles to himself more than to you. Joel guides you forward, a gentle pressure against your thighs to push you forward. “Just put yourself on my mouth, baby. If you want me to stop at any point just tell me, okay?”

You nod, squeezing your eyes shut as you lower yourself carefully over him, only hovering until you get close enough to his mouth. The moment he feels you, he pulls you down closer to his mouth and moans as he instantly dips his tongue in you. The sensation makes your jaw drop, moaning as you place your hand on the wall in front of you while trying to keep as much of your weight off of him as possible. 

Meanwhile, Joel sounds like a man starved—completely possessed as you look down to see his eyes shut in bliss, kissing and licking inside you before moving up to suck on your clit.

A few moments pass of you still trying to keep control despite how good it feels, hyper aware of your positioning at all times. Picking up on this, Joel opens his eyes and pulls away from you, a whine leaving your throat from the loss of contact. You look down to see his lips reddened and his face flushed as the area around his mouth glistens from your slick.

“I need you on me, darlin’.”

Feigning confusion, you begin to deny the truth but Joel just shakes his head firmly underneath you. “I can feel you holdin’ back, baby. Please, please believe me. Give me everythin’, okay?”

Hearing desperation in his voice as he borderline begs, you sigh and nod timidly in agreement with his plea.

Seemingly pleased with your response, he brings himself back to his motions a moment ago. You feel yourself weakening from the pleasure before Joel taps the sides of your thighs. You look down at him to find him watching you, pulling himself back enough to say, “Don’t hold back on me.”

The sincerity in his voice, the trust you have with him, and the way his tongue feels so good in you, makes you listen. Slowly, you release your tense state and let yourself lower more of your weight onto him, keeping your eyes on him the whole time to look for a sign to stop. You find none. Instead, you hear and feel his groan of satisfaction—his grip on you tightening as his movements become even more frantic.

Eventually, the combination of him switching back and forth between sucking your clit and moving his tongue perfectly inside you causes your strength to falter. You slip, knees sliding further away as your body fully drops onto Joel’s mouth, your thighs wrapping around his head on instinct as you keep your hand against the wall in front of you, your other hand instinctively falling into his hair—gripping and pulling at the strands.

You feel his smirk before you hear him mumble against your center. “That’s my good girl.”

Finally being free with your movements, your mind at ease that Joel seems to still be breathing, you begin to move your hips subconsciously against his mouth. Once he feels this, Joel moans loudly against you—the added vibration making you grind harder against him as you feel his fingers grip your thighs so hard you’re sure to find bruises in the morning.

“There ya go. Fuckin’ use me. Help yourself come on my mouth, darlin’. Need it so damn bad.”

His filthy words match the wild, hungry movements he makes below you. Feeling your orgasm approaching rapidly, you grip his hair particularly hard before your eyes squeeze shut, head falling forward as you grind down on his mouth harder.

“Fuck… Joel—baby, I,” you words trail off into a string of moans as you feel your orgasm hit you with such intensity. Slamming your hand against the wall harshly, you cry out, “Holy fuck, Joel!”

You let go, your body fully using his face as nothing but support at this point. He moans in approval at your reaction and continues sucking your clit with just enough pressure to help you ride out your high, his fingers gripping you harshly to help hold you steady.

You lean your forehead against your arm that you hold out in front of you with your palm against the wall. Your thighs are shaking as you let go of the grip you hold in Joel’s hair to hold yourself up with the headboard. Joel continues to lick through you and clean the wetness across your inner thighs before he leans his head back against the pillow to look up at you.

You shyly smile at the sight, your insecurity creeping in a little bit at the fact you put so much weight on him. Joel notices and rubs his hands up and down your thighs, breathing out your name before saying, “Don’t get in your head, darlin’. That was the best damn thing I’ve ever experienced.”

Your cheeks go red at his words, moving yourself down his body to sit over his stomach after you come down. 

Looking down at him from your view, something overtakes you. The way he brings his hand up to his mouth to haphazardly wipe away the remnants of you. The soft look in his eyes full of an emotion you can’t name just yet. The lazy smile that dawns his face as he looks up at you, still lightly running his hands over the sides of your thighs… 

It all becomes too much—your reserved and insecure demeanor from moments ago completely disappears and is replaced by pure desire as you place your hands on his chest and raise your hips up. You see Joel’s face twitch in slight confusion at your movements.

Reaching down between the two of you with one hand, you lightly grip his cock and maneuver yourself until you hover yourself over him. The moment he feels your fingers wrap around him, Joel’s entire body jerks as if he’s been zapped.

“Darlin’... what are you doin’?” He says as he pants heavily, his chest moving up and down rapidly as his eyes flick from your face down to where your bodies meet. 

You rest the underside of his cock between your folds, rocking forward slightly, the sensitivity shocking you briefly. His preparation moments ago leaves you absurdly wet and able to easily slide against him. “This.”

At the contact, Joel’s mouth falls open, a loud moan leaving his throat. “Fuck… baby, we don’t have to do–” 

He gets cut when you slide yourself over him again—Joel’s face screwing up as he throws his head back into his pillow, the muscles and veins in his neck straining.

“I want to,” you firmly say, keeping your eyes directly on his face to watch his reactions. “Do you want me?”

His eyes open as he scoffs, shaking his head as if you were crazy. “The fuck kinda question is that, darlin’? Fuckin’ christ—as if I’d ever not want you.”

You smirk as you see him struggling to hold onto his willpower. Wrapping your fingers around his thick and heavy cock and feeling him twitch in your hands as you position yourselves until his head teases your entrance. 

“So… can I, baby?” You ask, the words identical to the first time he asked to put his mouth on you. You aren’t given a verbal response as Joel reaches his hands to grip your waist and begin to help you lower yourself onto him. He pushes the tip of his cock in before pausing as he feels how you grip around him. You brace your hands back onto his chest, digging your nails in slightly as your jaw drops and your head falls forward onto your chest. 

A low groan leaves Joel, his body squirming from the effort of restraint. “Fuck me, darlin’. God… you’re so fuckin’ tight, holy–” 

His words make you clench around him, causing him to pinch his eyes shut and involuntarily jerk his hips. The movement makes him go a little deeper into you until you feel half of him, resulting in a whimper to come out of you. The noise seems to grab Joel’s attention as he looks up at you.

“Fuck,” he breathes out. “M’sorry, darlin’. I didn’t mean to–”

You shake your head and open your eyes to look at him. “Don’t be. It doesn’t hurt it… fuck it feels good.”

You weren’t lying—the slight burn and discomfort you had experienced the first time is gone, replaced by shock and ecstasy at the stretch of him inside you. 

He nods, telling you to take your time but you feel too impatient and sink down on him completely until all of him is inside you, your walls pulsing around him. You both let out a loud moan and Joel’s grip on your hips tightens to hold you in place. “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, woman.”

His words fuel you with confidence and a sense of pride, laughing softly at the praise. “Come on, Miller,” you breathe out. “You can’t prove Tommy right.”

You don’t know what possessed you to tease him, referring to his brother’s comments about being “too old”. 

Joel’s jaw clenches and his eyes darken, his nostrils flaring as he slowly pulls you off him before bringing you back down sharply, lifting his own hips up to deepen the thrust. The action knocks the breath out of you and weakens your balance, causing your body to fall forward until your forehead hits the pillow next to his face as a sharp cry gets ripped from you.

He moves his hips to make small thrusts inside you as he lets your body settle from the force. You feel one of his hands come up to brush the hair out of your face beside him in delicate motions. Joel turns his head until his lips brush the shell of your ear, whispering with a smirk, “What was that, sweetheart?”

Your whimpering makes a laugh vibrate through his chest until you beg. “Please… Joel, please fucking move.”

You feel childish as you whine and pout, trying to move your hips desperately against Joel’s but he just continues his slow, short thrusts inside of you in a tantalizing manner.

Okay… you’re realizing you were in over your head.

Instead of giving you what you want, Joel teasingly shushes you, petting your hair as he says, “Darlin’... let’s use our words now. What do you need?”

You can’t find the will to speak as your mind is clouded by the full feeling of him essentially just sitting inside you. Only hearing your whimpers, Joel pushes. “C’mon, baby… be a good girl and tell me what you need.”

Fluttering yourself around his cock, your whole body squirming for friction, you rush out, “Fuck, Joel—please just… god, baby, please… Please move.”

He kisses the sides of your face. “Now was that so hard?” He asks before he helps you lift yourself off him and brings you back down, meeting your thrusts with his own.

Finally getting the pleasure you were desperately craving, your upper body goes lax as you sag against him, uncontrollable moans and whimpers slipping from your lips. The sounds coming from Joel match your own as he moves relentlessly inside you. 

He moves one hand to hold the small of your back and uses his other to push his palm into his bed, lifting both you and him up so you were both sitting vertically with him still inside you.

The movement causes a gasp to leave you, your head coming down onto his shoulder as you feel his hands wildly roam across your back and sides. Your gasp turns into a sharp cry and you bite down on his skin the moment he fully sits up. The angle makes him feel impossibly deeper, his cock hitting a spot inside you that had you grappling to stay in your body.

Finding the strength to lift your head off his shoulder, you look down at him to find his gaze already trained on your face, his eyebrows pushed together and up as his falls open. Moans leaves his lips as you move your hips up and down, and back and forth above him.

The feeling of the head of his cock repeatedly hitting a deep spot inside you has resting your forehead on his, screwing your eyes shut and panting out, “Joel… I’m gonna–”

He lightly growls before he takes a grip on your hips and flips the two of you suddenly until you lay flat on his bed with him over you. He uses his hands to push your knees up on either side of his hips, encouraging you to wrap your legs behind his back in a tight lock. The position has you feeling your orgasm approaching rapidly—Joel leaning down to kiss you hungrily before he rips away. “Gonna help you come, baby, don’t worry.”

He brings one hand up to grip onto his headboard for balance, taking his other hand and bringing his index and middle finger to your parted lips. You feel him ghost his fingers over your bottom lip, the contact making you open your mouth more. Joel then slips the two fingers into your mouth, resting on your tongue as you instinctively close your lips and suck on them—your tongue swirling around his fingers.

Joel groans at the feeling, his hips stuttering before he slowly slips his fingers out of your mouth and guides his hand down between you two. You feel him place his fingers on your clit, making you realize his intention of putting his fingers in your mouth as he rubs circles across your most sensitive spot.

Feral moans leave you in quick succession, your orgasm hitting you suddenly, causing your body to arch up into his and dig your nails into the grip you have on the sides of his arms. “There ya go… my perfect fuckin’ girl.” 

The feeling of you clenching around him over and over as your orgasm washes over you brings his own. Joel’s grip on the headboard slips to slam his closed fist into the pillow beside your head as he keeps his other hand on your clit, fingers still moving in slowing circles to help you come down from your own orgasm. 

“God… baby, I fuckin’ love– love how you feel, darlin’... fuck!”

His body lurches forward and you feel his movements stutter inside you until he slams into you with a harsh thrust, spilling inside you. His mouth falls open beside your ear, your name leaving his lips helplessly as his moans turn into whimpers and his movements begin to slow.

Joel sags on top of you, both of you panting in each other’s ears as his fingers on your clit subside and his thrusts slow to a stop inside you.

You both lay there for a long time with your eyes shut, taking the moment to savor the full feeling of him inside you and feeling his come slowly leaking out of you. His hands soothingly rubbing the sides of your waist make you begin to pepper kisses on his shoulder, moving your kisses up his neck as he lifts his head to hover his face over yours.

Ghosting your lips over his jaw, his eyes briefly fall shut in a look of bliss. You pull your face away slightly to look at him directly, seeing his eyes open and looking from your lips to your eyes.

“Was that okay?” Joel softly whispers, voice turning up at the end in insecurity.

You furrow your brows in confusion before softly laughing. “Are you kidding me? That was fucking amazing.”

His shoulders relax. “I wasn’t too rough on you?”

You spot the genuine concern in his tone and eyes and pull him down for a reassuring kiss. Joel melts into you, one hand coming up to hold the side of your head before you pull away. Giving him a dazed smile, you say, “You weren’t, I promise. It felt perfect, Joel.”

His concern washes away, your words erasing his fears of hurting you. 

“What ‘bout you, huh?” He asks, seeing your confusion before continuing. “The hell has gotten into ya?” He smirks, dipping his head forward to ghost his lips over yours. “This teasin’... you’re gonna send me to an early grave, babygirl.”

You shyly smile and giggle at his words, recalling your teasing words and how shocked you are with yourself. “Are you really complaining?”

He laughs back. “Guess I ain’t. M’gladly willin’ to die by your hands.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “What’s with you and wanting to die from sex? Fine with me suffocating you… fine with me teasing you to death…”

“There’s plenty of worse ways to die, baby. Rather go out feelin’ like I’m in heaven before I get sent to hell.”

You playfully roll your eyes and your exhaustion hits you before Joel begins to pull out of you. You watch him sit up on his knees, looking between your legs before he moves his body down to lie between your thighs. The movement makes you gasp, a sensitive whine leaving you as he begins to clean the mess with his tongue—gently licking and kissing away his come.

You squirm from the overstimulation, squeezing your thighs around his face and bringing your hands to grab his hair before he pulls away with a smirk. “Saves water. Good for the planet an’ all.” 

You huff out a laugh. “Now who’s trying to kill who.”

He climbs back up your body to lay beside you, pulling the covers back for you both to lay underneath. Lying on his side, he hugs you close to him, your face pressing into his chest. 

A beat of silence passes, and you think Joel’s gone to sleep, you following in tow, until you hear his voice speak up in a hushed tone. “I missed you.”

The wavering tone in his voice makes you shift your head to look up at him, finding him looking down at his chest but unable to meet your eyes. “You’ve seen me almost everyday?”

When Joel does make eye contact with you, the look in them makes your breath catch in your throat. Your own longing for him over the week comes to you again, and you find yourself no longer wanting to pretend when he offered his own thoughts so willingly.

“I know,” you say. “I missed you, too.”

Joel exhales deeply at your words and you feel tension leave his body. He looks at you for a moment longer, loud thoughts you wish you could hear flipping through his mind before he squeezes your arm and gently presses your head back down.

“Let’s get you to sleep, pretty girl.”

You mumble out a response, the sound muffled by your face against his skin. “I’m not even tired…”

The last thing you feel is Joel placing a kiss to the top of your head before your eyes fall shut, darkness pulling you in.

reblogs and comments are appreciated! i hope you all enjoy <3 follow @writtenbynic and turn on notifications for updates!

a/n: posting this earlier in the day because i have a dnd session tonight so i will get back to comments and things tomorrow :) hope you guys like this fluffy/smutty chapter

also!! i made my playlist for this story public. the link is at the top of the chapter :) it includes songs that are chapters, future chapters, or songs that fit the vibe! it's not in order by chapters though, they're all just kinda thrown in lol

🏷️: @dendulinka6 @suzysface @koshkaj-blog @orcasoul @emmasveinyahhdih @thatoneperson38747 @silksepia @orodaeh @ithinkimokeei @emnull0 @warriorkarol @luvwanda @pascal-mynightlyobsession @grayandthyme @crlsummer @ashleyfilm @darling-imobsessed @tjohn63 @lizzie-cakes @vanishintoyoubby @keileighr

if anyone else wants to be tagged or removed from the tag list, then please let me know!

[svnscape]

30 - get me out of this place

that cannot be true.

you can't be that oblivious now can you?

you're so good at seeing right through people you couldn't have missed this. no chance.

or were you too blinded by him that he had succeeded at fooling you?

there's no way in hell.

why are you suddenly believing this?

plus who the hell texted you about this and why would they even do it?

but then why does everybody have something to say about haechan and surprisingly, or maybe not actually, it's never something good.

there was obviously something going on and the fact that you've always known something wasn't right but ignored it, for the sake of own your pride and soaring feelings, was slowly creeping up on you.

actually very quickly and frantically creeping up on you because you had barely registered the fact that you stood up from your previous peaceful spot when you felt yourself walk, or maybe even run, towards the place you knew haechan would be at.

suddenly everything is very not peaceful actually.

and maybe you shouldn’t even go there. for your own sake.

because he’d be there,

surrounded, or should you say, protected, by his perfect looking friends, the weight of his past actions buried deep down behind his charming smile that you’ve sadly fallen for.

fallen for so hard, your heart almost broke out of your rib cage when you saw him sit down by the corner of the cabin, his back to you, as jaemin was standing right front of him, eyebrows raised in what looked like frustration.

you hated how this whole thing was making you feel, hated it because you knew you were gonna find out something. something that’ll make your heart shatter so loud and quick.

you also hated how perfectly fucking believable this whole thing looked to you.

it’s like the deepest and darkest parts of your mind have finally unlocked themselves to you and gave you the power to finally see it.

see the truth.

hear the truth

“you slept with her?”

“i did, and i lo-”

“no! no i don’t want to hear it! you don’t have the right to enjoy it, to enjoy any of this actually”

“i know… i know i- i feel horrible”

“so you do know how to feel?”

“jaemin..”

“what? what?! are you finally realizing how bad you’ve fucked up? how bad you keep on fucking up? haechan you’re not 18 anymore for the love of god!”

“keep your voice down! your boyfriend is inside”

“he’s not my boyfriend and fuck! that’s not even the point. you have to tell her! it’ll maybe give you the chance to redeem yourself”

“i wa-”

“he’ll never redeem himself”

haechan wasn’t even moving in the first place but his body freezes even more.

he doesn’t even turn to look at you.

it’s jaemin who locks eyes with you first, his eyes moving from haechan’s face to yours, his gaze softening when he catches the way your reddened face twists in pain.

you hoped he wouldn’t catch the way you were so close to hyperventilating when haechan slowly stood up, his back still facing you.

jaemin eyes you carefully, slowly getting closer to you “y/n… y/n”

haechan then hears him try to calm you down with his voice and hopes he’d do it to him too because god knows how close he was to falling down to his knees in regret.

he doesn’t know how and when, but he knows you’ve found out because he saw it the moment he mustered enough courage to turn around and look at you.

he saw the hatred.

he saw the anger.

and most importantly, he saw the hurt.

it fucked him up even more and maybe the most because it’s like the world was making fun of him somehow and he hoped he was imagining it at that moment.

bur sadly for him, no.

you looked so hurt, the same way he looked the day he found out about mark’s ulterior motives.

the universe was very funny sometimes.

“y/n-”

you don’t even let him finish as you storm away, your sobs echoing around, muffling up and dimming the beautiful melodies of nature.

it almost made you feel bad.

maybe you felt bad for yourself actually.

feeling so little and used in such a beautiful place, surrounded by mother nature that was suppose to symbolize power and control.

yet you had neither at the moment.

because unfortunately for you, they had been taken away from you the moment you decided to untangle yourself with haechan and his dark secrets.

a few steps away was haechan, taking a moment to gather his thoughts.

and for some fucked up reason the first thing he thought of was turning to the side to look at jaemin before he says,

“did you tell her?”

it’s too late when he realizes how bad that made him look because jaemin doesn’t even bother responding to that, as he pushes haechan from his shoulder to trap him between his body and the wall of the cabin.

“you’re fucked in the head. go find her”

haechan shuts his eyes closed, tightly and huffs as jaemin lets him go to head inside, before he quickly tries to make his way towards you, speed walking.

“y/n! y/n slow down please” you hear him yell from behind you, his voice you once liked, aggravating to your ears.

you stop abruptly, making him stumble and back away clumsily.

“this is fucking over no matter what you say but i just need you to answer one question, and be honest or on god haechan i will do something” you almost growl at him, through your uncontrollable tears, watching him back away even further, gulping in response

“okay… yeah okay”

“did you date me to get back at mark and jeno ?”

haechan’s eyes widen but he quickly recovers, eyebrows furrowing and a hand quickly going up to his forehead to wipe it.

he looked so dumb right now and he knew that.

he knew he wasn’t courageous enough to admit it in the first go. at least not now.

he hated himself so much right now.

he gets it. he finally gets the hatred towards him.

“what ? no y/n what are you say-”

“yes or no haechan! it’s not that fucking hard” you scream, or maybe even screech, not caring if anybody was able to hear your pain-latched voice.

haechan swallows, multiple times, his face getting red and sweaty.

“i need an answer”

“yes, yes but-”

“that’s it” you turn around.

“but wait! y/n wait! hear me out please” he runs towards you to finally stand in front of you, putting both hands on your shoulders.

this was his fucking chance.

“don’t fucking touch me”

or maybe not.

“okay sorry, y/n please let me explain, it’s not what you think”

“no it’s exactly what i think and i’m so stupid for believing an asshole like you would ever love me or even slightly like me and date me because he actually has feelings for me. an egocentric piece of shit like you cannot have feelings for anybody except for themselves and i can’t believe i thought i could’ve changed that. i don’t care if you’re the reason mark spiraled or not, you’re both in the wrong but what i care about is how manipulative and mean you are. a true piece of shit” you push him away, venom spitting out of you and hitting haechan straight at the face, like a hard punch.

oh he wanted to cry so bad right now.

so fucking bad he gathered all the power left in him to hold back his tears.

he doesn’t deserve to cry.

or maybe a little?

because the way you were looking at him made him feel like he was the worst out of anything you could’ve ever encountered in your life. it made him feel so small and vulnerable, something he hates feeling and hasn’t come across since forever.

it hurt him so much it confirmed his agonizing doubts.

“i do like you y/n”

“i don’t care”

prev — m.list — next

taglist: @bbykaixx @alwayswonbinning @weepingsweep @dudekiss3r @kukkurookkoo @hoeingthefuckup @gomdoleemyson @haeclips @luvvhaechan @hsified @heegyuwrld @lubunnii @firydst @daengiez @nahyuckers @httpsxnox @n0hyuck @hi00000234567 @scoobysnackszoo @minkyuncutie @yuthabitz @haechology @neogotmysam @sanniekook @kisseokiss @nqyzhuo @kooookie @lovenha7 @andassortedkpop @jising-jisang-jisung @markleesleftpinky @ourbeautifulaffair

a/n: ouch….

now who do you think blabbed….

[strzxrin]

wei zhong, zi xiuying, song tae-woo, aidan sandford, ethan hayes reacting to reader wiping off their kiss as a joke

i wanna kiss a kitty !

synopsis. ┆  for the shits and giggles, you decided to wipe of their kiss, how did they take it?

tags/warnings. ┆  gn!reader, established relationships, fluff, just a bunch of sillies.

characters. ┆  zi xiuying ( student president . half-elf character ) . song tae-woo ( vice student president . dog hybrid character ) . aidan sandford ( frat . human character ) . wei zhong ( nerd . bunny hybrid character ) . ethan hayes ( lead singer . dog hybrid character )

a/n. ┆ literally wrote this on the train after a hang out that lasted from 7:30 am to 5:20 pm. fucking save me i'm so tired i'm going to crash out-

masterlist ┆ character wiki

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ZI XIUYING — he stood beneath the soft glow of the campus lamplight, his posture as refined as ever; perfect back, hands tucked neatly into the pockets of his blazer, the golden pin of the student council gleaming against his chest. 

the evening breeze teased a few strands of his dark hair, but nothing could disturb the quiet authority he carried like second nature. that was, until you reached up and playfully wiped away the kiss he had just pressed onto your cheek.

he blinked.

not in confusion, he was far too sharp for that, but in a rare moment of disbelief. his lips parted slightly, and the faintest furrow creased his brow as he watched your grin widen mischievously. 

you knew exactly what you were doing. teasing him. poking at the polished surface of xiuying, the student council president, the model student, the one everyone admired, but only you got to love.

“you wiped it off?” he asked, voice quiet, laced with a dramatic sort of offense that didn’t quite mask the amusement starting to tug at the corners of his mouth.

you nodded, eyes gleaming. “i did. what are you going to do about it, mr. president?”

xiuying let out a slow exhale through his nose, the sound half a sigh, half a laugh. his hand reached for yours, fingers brushing against your knuckles with infuriating delicacy. 

“you always find a way to challenge me, don’t you?” he murmured, stepping closer. the tension between you shifted, warm and familiar.

he leaned in again, slower this time, eyes fixed on yours with a stubborn kind of intent. his lips found your other cheek, closer to your mouth this time, and lingered. “there,” he whispered, a touch smug, “wipe that off and see what happens.”

you didn’t.

his smile was quiet and satisfied as he took your silence for victory. but the glint in your eyes promised you weren’t done with him yet, and xiuying, ever the strategist, knew the game was far from over.

and he didn’t mind. not when it was you.

  ᯓᡣ𐭩 SONG TAE-WOO — he was all awkward grins and bright energy; the kind of vice president who somehow balanced being competent and wildly chaotic in the same breath. he was the first to arrive at council meetings and the last to leave, always with a half-eaten snack in one hand and crumpled meeting notes in the other. 

people loved him for his sunny personality and sheepish laugh when he messed up, which was often, but only you got to see the way he turned soft and bashful when it came to love.

so when tae-woo leaned in and pressed a sweet, fluttery kiss to your cheek after walking you home from another long day of council work, he looked a little proud of himself. his ears were already pink, and he gave a tiny, nervous laugh, like he couldn’t believe he’d just done that.

and then you wiped it off.

right in front of him.

tae-woo’s whole face scrunched up in cartoonish betrayal. “yah!” he gasped, dramatically clutching his chest like you’d just stabbed him with a pencil instead of your hand. “did you just, wipe off my kiss?!”

you couldn’t help but laugh. “what? it’s not like i washed my face or anything.”

still pouting, he leaned back slightly, arms crossed, looking more like a sulky puppy than the vice president of the university’s student council. “i gave you a very sincere and affectionate kiss, and you treated it like, like dust on your cheek! i’m wounded. actually. emotionally.”

you tilted your head. “are you going to cry?”

“no,” he sniffled dramatically. “yes. maybe. you’ll never know.”

you rolled your eyes fondly and tugged at his sleeve. “come here.”

he blinked, but stepped forward, and you leaned in and kissed his cheek, right where he had kissed you. he froze, bright-eyed and quiet for once. then his face exploded into a grin so wide it crinkled his nose.

“aha! so you do like me!” he said, pointing an accusing, but delighted, finger at you.

“i literally just kissed you.”

“exactly. victory,” he whispered, then gave you a goofy, happy little look that made your heart squeeze. “still gonna pretend to be offended for, like… at least five more minutes, though.”

and as you walked the rest of the way together, tae-woo kept sneaking glances at you, like he still couldn’t believe someone like you was really his.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 AIDAN SANDFORD — he was the kind of guy who made the campus feel like a movie set. He strolled through the university grounds like he owned them; perfectly tousled hair, and a smile that could melt even the most cold-hearted professor. 

everyone knew him. everyone liked him. professors rolled their eyes but gave him extra time on essays, classmates high-fived him in the halls, and strangers knew his name from the latest party flyer. he was loud, charming, a little reckless, and totally, undeniably yours.

so when he walked you back to your dorm after a late-night study session, which mostly consisted of him goofing off while you actually studied, it didn’t surprise you when he suddenly stopped, flashed that cocky grin, and leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek.

it was warm. smooth. aidan-like.

and you wiped it off right after.

his mouth dropped open. he froze mid-step like someone had hit pause on the campus golden boy. “babe.” his voice cracked a little, part shocked, part dramatically wounded. “you did not just do that to me. to me.”

you raised an eyebrow. “what? you kiss everyone like that. i thought i should sanitize.”

aidan clutched his chest as if you’d just delivered a fatal blow. “ouch. you wound me. right here.” he stumbled back a few steps, then pointed at the invisible camera like he was on a reality show. 

“did everyone see that? rejected. betrayed. live on campus.”

you laughed, shaking your head. “oh, come on. you’ll survive.”

“will i?” he said dramatically, eyes wide. “will i survive knowing the person i love wiped off my kiss like it was, ugh, sweat from a gym bench?”

but even through all the mock-theatrics, there was a twinkle in his eye. because under all that charm and noise, aidan was still real with you, soft in the way only someone used to being liked could be when he genuinely cared.

he stepped back into your space, this time without the grin, and gently rested his forehead against yours. “you know i don’t kiss just anyone like that, right?” he said, quieter now. “that one was special. you’re special.”

before you could respond, he kissed your cheek again, slower this time, more deliberate. then, with a smug little smirk: “now if you wipe that one off, i’m revoking your netflix password and replacing it with frat house documentaries.”

you didn’t wipe it off.

he grinned like he’d just won the national championship. “knew it. still got it.”

and just like that, aidan, the guy who was always talking, fell into a comfortable, happy silence as he walked the rest of the way with his fingers laced through yours.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 WEI ZHONG — he was the kind of nerd who didn’t just study for fun, he loved it. 

  the kind of guy who’d get visibly excited explaining the physics of why popcorn pops, or send you memes made in excel spreadsheets at 2 am. 

always in oversized sweaters, round glasses sliding down his nose, and that bright, dimpled smile that made you forget he just accidentally spilled iced coffee on his own notes again.

despite being top of in the entire university, wei zhong had the softest, goofiest energy. he was all enthusiasm and zero smoothness, except when it came to you. 

around you, his stammers turned into quiet courage, and his awkwardness into this strangely adorable confidence that somehow made you fall harder every time.

so, when he leaned over shyly and planted a quick kiss on your cheek outside the library, barely a second long, cheeks pink, smile bigger than the campus itself, he was already beaming, clearly proud of himself for being so bold.

and then… you wiped it off.

his reaction was instant and hilariously tragic.

“HUH?!” he yelped, taking a full step back, eyes wide. “w-was that a bug or something? did i mess it up? was there.. was there too much lip??”

you couldn’t help but laugh, and that made him even more flustered. he ran both hands through his already-messy hair. “oh no, i blew it. is there a protocol for kiss rejection? should i file a report? should i apologize — wait, maybe i should just recompile the whole moment from scratch.”

“wei zhong,” you said, trying to hold in your laughter.

“what? i thought it was a good angle! and i even used lip balm, vanilla! you like vanilla!”

“wei zhong,” you said again, stepping forward and poking his cheek.

he blinked at you, wide-eyed. “yeah?”

“it was a joke.”

“a… joke?” he repeated, as if the concept had just been invented.

you nodded. “you’re cute when you panic.”

he blinked again. then, slowly, a sheepish grin spread across his face, his dimples deepening. “oh. okay. okay. phew.” he exhaled dramatically and wiped imaginary sweat from his forehead. “you know, for a second i thought i needed to update my entire romantic approach strategy.”

then, after a pause, he tilted his head, eyes twinkling. “so… does this mean i can try again? for science?”

before you could respond, he leaned in and gave you another kiss, this one slightly longer, still soft, still so him. when he pulled back, his face was glowing.

you pretended to raise your hand again, just to tease, and he gasped, grabbing your wrist in mock horror. “don’t you dare! that one’s going in my memory drive forever!”

and as you both walked away laughing, you realized something; being with wei zhong felt like one long, joyful experiment, and you were always, always happy to be part of the results.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ETHAN HAYES — he was the band’s golden retriever in every possible way. sunny smile, boundless energy, and the kind of laugh that made people turn their heads just to see who was lucky enough to be around him. 

  lead singer of the world’s most popular rock band, and somehow, despite the ripped jeans, and the rough rasp in his voice when he sang, he radiated warmth like a walking, singing, guitar-strumming beam of light.

he was the guy who waved too enthusiastically from across the quad, sent you audio messages filled with silly made-up songs about your day, and hugged with his whole body like he meant it every single time. 

and when he was with you, all of that energy turned into something softer. sweeter, completely devoted.

after practice one evening, his guitar slung lazily over his shoulder, sweat clinging to his brow, and his voice hoarse from rehearsal, ethan walked you to your dorm, still humming the chorus of a song he swore he wrote with you in mind.

and right before you reached your door, he leaned in, grinning, and gave you a quick, affectionate kiss on the cheek. the kind of kiss that said i’m yours without needing to say a word.

so of course, you wiped it off.

ethan froze mid-step like someone had unplugged him. “wait. wait.” he looked at you with wide, wounded eyes, lips parted in the kind of expression that made it hard not to burst into laughter. “did you just delete my kiss?!”

you snorted. “delete? it’s not an email.”

“yes it is!” he said, dramatically staggering back a step, clutching at his heart like he was about to drop to his knees. “it was a love letter! sealed with a kiss! and you just hit backspace!”

you laughed harder, but he was far from done. “was it the sweat? it was the sweat, wasn’t it? i knew i should’ve showered first- ugh, ethan, you dumbass”

“ethan,” you said between giggles, “i was joking.”

he paused. “...really?”

“really.”

the transformation was immediate. his face lit up like someone flipped a switch, and he was suddenly bouncing on his feet again. “oh thank god. i was about to write a sad breakup song and cry into my guitar case.”

then he stepped close again, that playful glint in his eyes returning. “okay, okay, wait. i’m gonna do it again. but this time it’s a platinum-level kiss, okay? G=grammy-worthy.”

you rolled your eyes affectionately. “oh yeah?”

he nodded solemnly. “certified heart-melter. You ready?”

and before you could answer, he leaned in and pressed a slower, sweeter kiss right where the last one had been. his fingers gently brushed your wrist as he pulled back, smiling softly now, none of the usual chaos, just that golden, warm look he only gave you.

“you better not wipe that one,” he whispered, voice low and honest.

you didn’t.

he beamed. “yup. platinum,” he said with a proud little nod, then added, “i’m writing a song about that kiss tonight. working title: ‘cheek to cheek.’”

and you believed him. because with ethan, everything was music, and you were his favorite melody.

[scarredwoods]

I made this post on Twitter, so I'm going to make it here too cause I'm tired of the misinformation

FOR THE LAST TIME, MIYAMOTO USAGI IS NOT 40

The only time you can argue he's 40 is during the WhereWhen comics that set in an ALTERNATE timeline. If you're going to argue about leosagi in some iterations, then back it up with proof and sources.

STOP SPREADING MISINFORMATION

No, there's no official age written anywhere. The only way to find out what his age is is by reading the comics. The comics give you a very vague timeline of events that you would need to piece together yourself if you want to know the age. But guess what, even Stan Sakai doesn't have an official age for him! During the CURRENT run, Stan has sated during a q&a interview that he views HIS OWN character to be around mid 20s to early 30s. But during the beginning of the run, he was around his very early 20s.

This is only comic Usagi, though. So don't apply this to other iterations like 97, 03, or 12.

In 03, they've already shown that they aged him down so that he could be closer to Leo. (And before you argue about how aging down a character is wrong, don't forget they aged April down to be a teenager in 12 so that she could be shipped with Donnie. Then they did the exact same thing in Mutant Mayhem, but with Leo. It's common. It happens. It's been done in other shows, too. Moving on.)

If his 2012 version is supposed to most closely resemble his comic version, then he would be in his EARLY 20s because he meets Jei early on in his comic series. But please treat this very loosely because even though this version is supposed to resemble Usagi the most, he's still far from him.

Those who know Usagi also know that he's not a strict, no fun guy.

You're gonna look at his stupid face and then turn around and tell me that he's the most strict and serious guy you've ever met?

Every iteration is gonna be different, so no information is going to be the same for each of them. So if you're going to argue about an iteration you don't even know about, don't say anything. If you don't know the source material, don't say shit. Back up your statement with proof. Don't just pull stuff out of your ass or repeat small posts you saw on the internet. And if you don't have time to research the source material, find someone who's already knows it and ask them.

And how do I know that the first person doesn't know what they're talking about? It's because during the video, they claimed that Yuichi and Miyamoto were the same person. They didn't know the difference between them and continued arguing that Leoichi was proship. Btw, the original video that they commented on was a Leoichi video, NOT a Leosagi video. This person was just overall incorrect.

[vandal-flower]

Yoichi Isagi sometimes wished his parents never met you. Not in a bad way, you got along well with them, which is a good thing. However, he drew the line when he was on the receiving end of his parents' teasing.

It all started on a Saturday afternoon, a lovely visit with his parents with you by his side. All was going well, until...

"You know (Name), had it not been for you, I would have sworn that our little Yoichi would have never been in a relationship.", his mother said in the kitchen, frying up some eggs.

What.

"Yeah! We actually made bets on when he'd actually find someone.", his father laughed. "Our recent bet was when he would be at least 50 years!"

WHAT?!

Your sweet boyfriend had a perplexed look on his face, appalled at how his parents had made bets on whether he'd actually be in a relationship. Before he could even respond, you interjected.

"Makes sense, considering I was the one making all the moves and he didn't even notice.", your smile widening.

How could you? What you said was partially true, but you can't just snitch on him like that!

"Hey, you guys are just hounding on me! And making bets, is that necessary?!", he stood up from his chair, aggravated by the words he had just heard.

His mother lowered the heat of the stove, "Of course, with the way things were looking, I wasn't sure if I was going to have any in-law other than your father's parents.", she teased as her husband laughed.

"Are you just upset that what they're saying might be true?", you leaned to his side, "After all, I was thinking that you might actually realize I was interested in you when you turn 30 or something."

He glared at you like you just spat on his cleats. How could you think of him like that and to say it infront of his parents no less!

His parents and you started laughing, almost as if you didn't just embarrass him. He did nothing, but sink down in his seat, his face burning in the process.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer to you, "Don't worry Ichi, I'll still love you even when you're old and wrinkly." You planted a kiss on his forehead, gently patting his head as a form of comfort.

He didn't push you away, just grumbled in your embrace before melting in it. He'll hold onto your word, tight in his heart.

You won't have to wait long though. For this time, he already measured your ring size.

[disco-troy]

was thinking about this post and Ric and was struck by the way that the end of the Ric arc dealt with some of the themes started by Nightwing 30, in relation with Dick is being able to escape from this constant narrative. With a complete loss of identity (at least from the perspective of the batfam) he’s finally about to actually self-reflect and realise how unhealthy his relationships can be with Bruce.

Ric takes one look at Dick and Bruce's relationship and goes hell no that seems terrible. He realized what Dicks identity should be, what Bruce needs him to be, but for once, he outright rejects it. He explicitly says he wants to leave, he realizes it's not healthy, he starts to build something new without Bruce at his shoulder. But unlike every other iteration of Dick does eventually, this time he doesn’t go back, he doesn’t change himself to be what Bruce needs him to be. That is, until the literal moment he gets his memory back.

When Dick comes back, Bruce makes him step back into a role that he’s not ready for, and makes him put Nightwing back on before he’s ready. He is forced to transform his identity and take his place back at Bruce’s side right away and just continue as normal. This quick change of identity ensures we cannot focus on the reality of Dick and Bruce’s relationship that Ric has encountered. And the greatest tragedy of the Ric situation is that it shows that Nightwing, an identity Dick initially created to get away from Bruce, is now so tied to Bruce that he will force Dick to put it on again to be brought back into the fold.

And it's insane how often this happens - just like in the Spyral arc Bruce insists Dick needs to be something else, for his good and the good of the family. Dick repeatedly says no, until Bruce repeatedly wears down Dick into saying yes. It's a pattern of behaviour! 

Bruce even explicitly states - as soon as Dick gets his memory back - this change in identity is equivalent to a Dick now belonging to the family. He knows that now he will have no trouble with this version of Dick, and again instead of actually addressing what happened, this Dick will allow for everything to return back to “normal”.

Sometimes Dick changes his identity to get closer to Bruce; he becomes Robin, Batman when Bruce dies, a brother, a son. Other times, Dick changes who he perceives himself to be to get away from Bruce, he becomes Nightwing to stop “being the back end of Batman and-”, he runs to Bludhaven as Ric, he becomes a member of a team, distances himself from Bruce as the Target. But at the end of the day, who he is and who Bruce needs him to be always pulls him back towards Bruce’s gravity. Who Dick chooses to be varies throughout comics depending on outside factors, but especially Bruce and his needs. 

[custody-if]

Sneak Peak from the Prologue!

Note: Don’t worry everyone all your questions will be answered! Im finishing up finals and then I would have time to put all my focus on you guys!!✨

So here’s a Sneak Peak with Darcelle for the prologue that will be soon put into code!

Note: Sarah - I saw your tips! Thank you!✨

Darcelle🥀 & Zane💵

⚠️WARNING⚠️ Sexual & Explicit language

It’s been years since she remembered being a little girl.

When she realized how he changed her, made her the way she is now, she did every little thing to forget it. But she couldn’t. She could still remember what it was like living with that man and being under the same roof. At exactly 4:30, every night it’s the same routine. When everyone’s fully awake in the morning, he acts like nothing ever happened, like she never felt his breath on her skin, like she hasn’t had the taste of him festered up inside of her. The thought of what she had to go through nearly made her want to vomit.

Her 16th birthday is when everything has gotten a little better when CPS had came to take her and her siblings away from that horrific household.

Her best friend Inessa knows what she does and why she does it. Maybe not all the reasons but most. Darcelle’s goddess like beauty with high cheekbones, strong jaw, good sense of style, and on top of her high confidence and true art of seduction, she’s learned since she was a little girl, quickly got her easy money, especially when it comes to helping MC, Ollie, and maybe Sylas, which is his turn to watch them by the way.

Lately her tempers been ranging low to high way too quickly.

As the breeze of the open window goes through her hair and rushes over her body, she blows out a deeply inhaled smoke from a lit cigarette, desperate to resolve and relieve her mind from the storm brewing inside her head. The man beside her turns over. She can only see his V line, the rest oh his body being covered by sheets.

She’s seen this scenario too many times. He will say to her,

“you’re really gorgeous” or “your even more amazing in bed.”

It’s predictable, they all are. Predictable. Every. Single. Time.

But instead this time it’s something different.

“What’s in that pretty little head of yours?” the man laying next to her says.

The only reason she keeps going back to him other than money, Is that he has morals and is understanding. Of course she’s not stupid enough to tell him everything.

‘Thorne. Baby. The words her father would repeat to her.’ She says in thought.

“You know you can’t tell anyone or I might have to put that pretty underwear of yours, back down your throat” Magnus says in a whisper.

She inhales as the nicknames her father gave her echoes in her head.

“I can’t stop my legs from shivering, and I can’t finish whatever else is in this joint.”

“Too much is going on in here” she taps the side of her head.

She hears the breeze from the windows including the noise from the party downstairs. This is Zane’s mansion. His brother had a crush on Inessa and frankly she just met this dude a month ago. Her and Zane built…something, not a bond but something. In the back of her head the reason why this isn’t a relationship is because she doesn’t want to be comforted. She just wants to leave the world behind. She knows Zane doesn’t want to lose any more of his female dogs.

They live in the same city but he’s in college. She on the other hand is still in high school.

“Come here.” He says.

She turns her gaze towards him,

“Your brother and his goons will be looking for you and me very soon”

She take in his really dirty blonde hair where she struggles to figure out if it’s brunette or blonde. He has a strong jaw, lips as soft as cookie dough and brown eyes. His sharp features are definitely different from his brothers and sister.

“I’m the older brother and unless he wants to go over the fucking balcony, he will be sure to mind his business.”

He grins and pulls Darcelle closer. She practically falls and leans on him. With his heart beating, he looks her in the eyes and his next words leaves her feeling a small pit of warmth.

“You never stay long enough to talk.” he pouts, “Please speak to me, seriously this time.”

For once she actually starts to relax. She huffs out a laugh.

“If you wanted to speak, you had plenty of other girls to speak to you.”

He rolls his eyes rubbing her lower back,

“They are all…irrelevant. They aren’t…like…you, there’s no one like you. No women. No ma-“

As he continues, she zones out. She hasn’t felt this feeling in so long. It was a long time ago for a reason. It feels so agonizingly disgustingly, but not this time. This time it feels good…no not good. Real. Genuine. True.

She feels his hand on her cheek, and before she could register what’s happening.

She shoots up darting to the end of the bed breathing heavy.

“Hey hey! What’s wrong? did I hurt you? I mean you know I pulled o-“

Darcelle starts trembling and is in the verge of tears,

“I really can’t…do this” she sobs,

“Please don’t touch me just, don’t let me speak, no matter if I try to open up just, Shut. Me. Out!”

She gets up and quickly starts putting on her clothes.

“Wait don’t leave I’m sorry If I said the wrong thin-“ before he could finish Darcelle interrupts him.

“Yes you did. Thank god it reminded me not to get too comfortable.”

He’s stunned for a bit before he quickly gathers himself, “Cella, please look at me!”

She turns to look at him, “What!? What more do you want me to say?”

He jumps out the bed wearing nothing but his underwear, he cups her face with his hands and puts his forehead against hers.

“Why?”

She already knows this question and finally one she can answer,

“I like the thrill. I love the feeling after. The feeling of feeling completely different. Then whatever this is.”

She points to her self and the towards him.

“No one else is gonna make me feel this real.” He speaks with desperation,

“Cella, please…..” he sucks in a breath,

“Would you conclude your night with me.”

When she opens her mouth to reject this nonsense of a question, not wanting to get attached or waste her time with him lusting over her, he cuts her off—

“Don’t go home. Don’t you back out and leave me behind! Don’t discard this life me and you created!”

They both breathe with the sudden sound of rain and lighting from the still opened window.

He again, whispers a plea, “Don’t leave me…please. Please don’t leave me...”

Sudden tears start falling from his eyes, Darcelle looks at him in the eyes and then looks towards the opened window.

“We should close the window, it’s starting to rain.”

The end-

A little sense of what Darcelle looks like!✨💋

[mermaidslabyrinth]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tags @rottengrowls , @rainwingmarvel7 , @queen--kenobi , and @chic-beyond-the-wall-oc-acct. You are all so kind to tag me. I love picking which scenes to share. I have been working on this chapter for the last 4 days. I have one more scene then onto chapter 8.

Rhagerys walked over to a small table that held some blank parchment, blank small scrolls, a jar of ink, and a quill. He picked up one small scroll, the jar of ink, and a quill. He walked over to his table. He set the items down and took a seat. He flattened the scroll in front of him. He opened the ink jar and dabbed the quill into it. Rhagerys tapped the quill on the side of the jar to get the extra ink off. ~Aemond I write this quick note to let you know that I will be unable to send any letters or ravens for almost a moon’s turn. My father and I are flying to Pentos. When we return to Dragonstone I will send a raven to let you know. There is no need to write back for we be gone by the time you receive this. Until then, be well. ~Rhagerys Rhagerys reread the note and was satisfied that, even though it was too brief for his liking, it would do. He blew lightly on the ink to help it dry quicker. He stood from his seat and walked back over to the small table. He picked up a wax seal stamp that he had commissioned for himself. It was an intricate design of a bell with a dragon’s head in it. A way Rhagerys could honor both his Houses. Aemond had one of his own as well, it had a dragon’s head that bore a resemblance to Vhagar. Their designs were something they both planned and worked on together. There were many letters and notes sent back and forth during the process. They finally were able to decide on the designs of the wax seal stamps that they use now. Rhagerys set the wax seal stamp back down. It was such a habit to grab for it. Rhagerys and Aemond did not usually send ravens. They would wait for when ships would sail between Dragonstone and King’s Landing. Then they would send the letters that they had written between the those times. When Rhagerys was on progress through Westeros for those two years, that was when they used ravens much more. Rhagerys would send one to let Aemond know to what House he was traveling to next. Aemond would respond that he would have a letter sent to that House and it would be waiting upon his arrival. Rhagerys remembered being impressed at how that was usually the truth. Rhagerys stayed in each region, save for Dorne and the Crownlands, for four turns of the moon. So, there were many letters exchanged between the two. When Rhagerys returned to Dragonstone, he kept all the letters Aemond wrote safe and tucked away in the trunk at the foot of his bed. Save for one. It was a letter he received when the two were three and ten. At the time Rhagerys was staying at his mother's childhood home, Strongsong. He remembered how excited he was to receive the letter. Only to be absolutely appalled at its contents. After Rhagerys read it, he burned it. Though, the contents stayed with him. Aemond never wrote about it again, so Rhagerys vowed he would honor his cousin by never writing about it as well. He also made a vow that he would never be put in that sort of situation. That he would never be coerced to go to a brothel. And that when he met Aemond again, he would inform him that the letter had been destroyed. Rhagerys thought about the other letters that he held onto. There were days he would take them out and read them. If only to be able to feel that connection with his cousin he desperately craved some days. Rhagerys shook his head of all the memories he accumulated from the letters he and Aemond had exchanged the past three years. He picked up the leather twine that was needed to tie up his scroll. He walked away from the small table. Rhagerys smiled. ‘When I get back from Pentos. I will have so much to tell him.’

Well that's a piece of my chapter 7 to my main story. I honestly am so surprised I am just getting to the Pentos scenes (I thought I'd be there 2 chapters ago). But the muse does as she pleases (so does Daemon it seems...).

I see a lot of people have been tagged but I have some more: @darkwolf76, @yoursweetheartsrevenge, @lyssaelisa, and @alicent-archive. Absolutely no pressure.

[fiepige]

Compilation of EVERY single time they changed Hobie's filter in the digital version:

Left: Theatrical release Right: Digital release

You might have to click on some of them to get a better look at Hobie, sadly I don't have a video editor that allows me to make better edits than these :')

[watermel0ns-dumb-cringe]

Time to pester my mother with the rtc production that's 4 hours away because one of the days it's being performed is legit my last day of school

[champselysees]

Atp I should start charging for every minute someone is late with no notice. What the fuck is this

[running-in-the-dark]

ooooh. we got an apartment!!!

the house isn't completely finished yet so we can't move in until April. we'll have to figure that out. but that's fine. it's in the town where my husband works! which is amazing.

[sonderden]

Physically, I'm already lying down.

Emotionally, I feel like I need to find a soft spot and crumple dramatically to the ground and lay down for a few weeks.