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#but it just makes me sad when i KNOW how fun and how encouraging and supportive online places can be
caffeinatedopossum · 1 year
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I hate that I'm literally chronically online but I don't really have a choice. I'm chronically ill, disabled, have very severe anxiety and agoraphobia. I can't just go touch grass and fix everything. I'm just trying my best to stay sane because that's really all I can do
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runningwithscizzorz · 2 months
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(1)Learn the rules before you break them + Gather proper references
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(2) Understand what you want to break and how
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(3) Can't do it? Find someone who can
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(4) It's going to look really bad for a while
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(5) Have fun with it!
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(1) -Yes, I am that kind of artist. Yet, not in the conventional way. I encourage people to go in guns blazing when it comes to drawing something new, then coming out analyzing what they know, and what they need to learn more of right away.
-Here, I broke down the anatomical pieces of Nour and Narinder's face with the same labels so you guys can understand this weird invisible pattern that I follow in my work. Doing this with any animal you're attempting to draw greatly improves your line confidence when drawing different face shapes. Also understanding the biological function for why animals look a certain way helps you keep consistency.
(3) Time to throw any artistic guilt you have for heavily referencing people's art OUT THE WINDOW and start ANALYZING PEOPLE'S WORK YOU WANT TO BE LIKE✨ I've always done this, having a reference of someone else's amazing work right next to my own drawing so I can try and understand how they make their magic work! No shame, no embarrassment, nada. Pure, unadulterated will and spite that I would be just as good as the artist who made me so motivated and happy with their work! I couldn't figure out how to make Nour's face both sheep-like, and humanly expressive, so I looked at a LOT of Zootopia and old Disney art for help!
(2) With how I draw narilamb, I'm still working on it (as you can see) but I wanted to break Narinder's face to be fluffier and slimmer, while Nour's face would be shorter and flatter. If you look at it for too long, it's absolutely going to look weird, in the way that if you look at Anna from Frozen for too long she starts looking really weird. The anatomy isn't meant to be correct or consistent, it's meant to convey the emotion and energy I want out of the characters in that moment. If you're able to properly get that across, then you don't need to think about how broken something looks, as long as your eye is happy enough to trick your brain into thinking what you're seeing is canny.
(4) Yeah, I hate this part too. It's going to look like shit at first. I can't even look at my art from a few months ago when I was figuring out their designs... God, so fucking ugly. If it weren't for the shittiness of those drawings, I would have never gotten here! Wading through the "trust the process" stage always really sucks, but it's absolutely worth the relief of when you finally get something to look right.
(5) Art is work, yes. It's stressful, it's long, it's straining, its draining, it's exclaiming, blah blah blah. But, I try to keep my art FUN. If I find my artwork becoming slow as I depressingly drag my pen over my tablet, I'm failing. You MUST keep spirit and life in your work. The spirit of emptiness or the life of sadness can have a very meaningful place in art, but those can only exist with keeping work light, easy, and fun! If you're stressing how a specific thing looks or how you can't get something to look right no matter what, FUCK IT. Draw something to bring the flavor back in your work! I'm kind of rambling, but just, HAVE FUN!✨️ Be messy, scream, laugh, slash canvases, throw paint, smash sculptures, tear apart books, GO CRAZY
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churipu · 6 months
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hiii !!
this is my first time requesting smth so sorry if I’m not making sense !! 😭
can u do jjk boys / men with short reader ?? can u also include megumi ?
thank you !
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SHORTIE — JJK MEN + SHORT PARTNER
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featuring. megumi fushiguro, toji fushiguro, gojo satoru, nanami kento x reader
warnings. none
note. hii jelly!! don't worry love you're doing great, and thank you for requesting! sorry it took so long :( i hope you like this. also, guys, omg you don't know how thankful i am to reach 500+ followers in a short amount of time, i'm going to sob. i love you all so much <;33
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MEGUMI FUSHIGURO. i feel like he doesn't mind at all, he did say his type was someone with an unshakable character — so he could obviously care less about your height. in fact, he'd be pretty much delighted, he finds you adorable (but let's face it, he'd never tell that to your face).
it sounds cliche but megumi would be the one to help you get things from higher places, and when he can't reach them either — he'd carry you up his shoulders to let you grab it. if there's one other thing that he loves besides your personality, it's your height.
so when anyone tries to bring you down with that, megumi would definitely be up to defend you; saying there's no problem with your height and how much he likes that about you.
"what're you talking about? they look just fine." megumi mutters out, scratching the back of his head, his eyes averting to the side.
"so what if they're short? why does that matter?"
"'t doesn't matter what you think, i like them, so what?"
just, he's always going to defend you about your height so the next second you feel conscious about it — he's going to ask you if anyone said anything, and if you said yes (he'll make sure to find out who it is behind your back), and if you said no (he'll tell you how much he loves you, your height, and everything about you).
TOJI FUSHIGURO. big tease, will definitely make fun of your for it, he calls you "shortie", it's just his default nickname for you. the first time het met you, he's just decided that he'd go with the name "shortie" instead of "y/n".
he's going to ask you to grab something for him, and when you realized it's something out of reach, it's just his act to make fun of you, "hey shortie, grab my favorite mug for me."
and when you opened the mug cabinet, his mug is just sitting on the very top — you looked at him with a defeated smile and let out a laugh. he would always end up taking it for himself, patting your head on the way with a satisfied laughter.
though sometimes, you feel a little self-conscious when he makes fun of your for your height, and toji would caught up to it almost immediately.
"what's up, shortie? why'd you look so sad, hm?"
"am i really that short?" he cocked his eyebrow and hummed out, signaling that it's a yes indeed. but he scoffs after.
"so what?" he mutters out, laying his hand on top of your head before walking away, don't worry it's just his way of telling you he loves you. you'd feel so much better after that.
that's why he kept calling you shortie, no matter how self-conscious you get, he ends up encouraging you about it. so he never bothered stopping (and he never thought of stopping the nickname).
GOJO SATORU. like toji, i feel like gojo is a big tease as well. he absolutely loves your height, he's a tall man, and having such a short partner is a fun thing to him. he loves making fun of you (in a cute way) — and so you didn't mind it at all, since you know that gojo didn't mean it literally.
"oh, i didn't see you there! you're so small i could just step on you." he marvels out with a toothy grin before scooping you into his embrace.
with that being said, gojo absolutely loves carrying you on top of his shoulders, and when he has the chance to, he won't waste the chance to ask you how it feels like to be so much taller. you always comply with his jokes as well so he loves teasing you a lot, cause you give out reactions to him.
"how does it feel to be tall?" he asks you, hand gripping on your hips, holding you in place so you wouldn't fall.
"not bad, definitely could feel the heat up here, must suck being so close to the sun," you replied back, patting his head gently and gojo chuckles, letting you down.
being short isn't so bad when you have a giant to protect you from the heat, he's like your personal umbrella. so, you weren't going to complain about it at all.
also, gojo wouldn't let you talk bad about your height. he's your number one fan, don't tell me otherwise.
NANAMI KENTO. he absolutely adores you. he loves how his shirt looks big on you, he loves how small you look next to him, he loves how you always use him as a shield for anything, he just loves you.
most of the time, you'd feel a little bad about your height — but nanami would tell you how it doesn't matter and how much he loves you. he has his ways of showing his love to you and your height. nanami would sometimes use you as a place to rest his arm, at first you thought he was making fun of you, but he wasn't and i guess it's now just a normal thing for the both of you.
nanami loves tucking your head under his chin when you're both relaxing, watching a movie, cooking, anything — he just loves pulling you close and laying his chin on top of your head. he tells you it feels comfortable, and so that has also been a normal thing for the both of you.
having a small height means teeny tiny body parts. your hands, especially; he's in love with how small they are compared to his. how your hand always tugs on his shirt when you're out, he's hand would engulf yours completely, and he makes sure you're well taken care of when you both go out (it would be hard if you'd get lost in the crowd).
one thing he adores is a habit that you always do when he's busy. of course you wanted attention, and when you wanted his attention — he'd find you tugging at his shirt, his suit, his hand with your own while muttering out a, "boyfriend, boyfriend".
he's just so in love with you and everything about you, and with that, you've slowly come to love your own height. thanks to him.
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© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !
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iamumbra195 · 2 months
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School Bus Graveyard incorrect quotes because I'm bored
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o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Taylor: Look how creepy it is looking down this hallway.
Ashlyn: I'm gonna get vertigo.
Aiden: I'm a Virgo!
Tyler, deadpan: No, you're a virgin.
...
Aiden: You lying, cheating, piece of shit!
Tyler: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD
Aiden: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING ASHLYN WITH ME
Logan, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.
...
Taylor: Why is Tyler so upset?
Logan: He took one of those “Which Character Are You?” quizzes
Taylor: And...?
Logan: He got Aiden.
...
Ashlyn: What did you do with the phantom's body?
Aiden: What didn’t I do with the body?
Everyone:
Aiden: Okay, that sounded more sexual than I intended. I disposed of the phantom respectfully.
...
Aiden: Here’s a fun Christmas idea. We hang mistletoe, but instead of kissing, you have to FIGHT whoever else is under it.
Logan: Aiden, no.
Ben, with text to speech: Mistlefoe.
Logan: Please stop encouraging him.
...
Taylor: Who thinks I can fit 15 marshmallows in my mouth?
Tyler: You’re a hazard to society
Aiden: And a coward. DO TWENTY.
...
Emma, trying to be nice to Ashlyn's new friends: Would you like to stay for dinner?
Mike, excited for his daughter: WOULD YOU LIKE TO STAY FOREVER?
...
Logan: What's a word thats a mix between 'sad' and 'mad'?
Ben: Disgruntled, miserable, desolated-
Aiden: Smad.
...
Ashlyn: Why are you on the floor?
Aiden: I'm depressed.
Aiden: Also I was stabbed, can you get Ben, please.
...
Taylor: Aiden and I were crossing the street, and this dude drove by and honked at us
Ashlyn, sighing: What did he do?
Taylor: he chased him to the next red light, then reached into his window and...
Aiden: Who wants a steering wheel?
...
Aiden: If I accidentally sat on a voodoo doll of myself, would I be trapped forever in that position, doomed to starve to death?
Logan: How am I supposed to know?
Tyler: You say that as if we don’t use you as a source of knowledge of the occult.
Logan: ...You wouldn't be trapped.
...
Ashlyn: Tyler, keep an eye on Aiden today. He's going to say something to the wrong person and get punched.
Tyler: Sure, I’d love to see him get punched.
Ashlyn: Try again.
Tyler, sighing: I will stop Aiden from getting punched.
...
Aiden, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him
Tyler: You did WHAT–
Ben: William Snakespeare
...
Ashlyn: Dandelions symbolize everything I want to be in life
Taylor: Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind?
Ashlyn: Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die.
Aiden: edible
...
Taylor, whispering to Aiden, who’s on the phone with Ashlyn: Ask her something!
Aiden: How are you feeling?
Ashlyn: Fine.
Taylor: Something personal!
Aiden: At what age did you start hearing voices?
...
Aiden: If I die, my funeral is going to be the biggest party ever and you’re all invited
Logan: If?
Tyler: Great, the only party I’d actually go to and he might not even die.
...
Logan: We need a distraction.
Ashlyn: Is anyone here good at jumping up and down and making weird noises?
Aiden, whispering: My time has come
...
Tyler: Where are you going?
Taylor: To get ice cream or commit a felony, I’ll decide on the way there
Tyler: I'll come with
...
Mike, buying a whole bag of knives, guns and other weapons like he's going to war on a random Tuesday: I can explain
Jacob (shop owner): Can you?
Mike: If you give me thirty seconds to think of a lie.
...
Taylor: Heads up, if you try to make a candle with food colouring, it will just sink to the bottom of the glass, and when the flame eventually reaches the bottom all the food colouring will catch fire and become one giant tall flame that you cannot possibly blow out and the glass will start to crack and then you'll throw your tea on it in a panic and then the extremely hot food colouring will boil and sizzle horribly and then the glass will shatter.
Tyler, sighing: What did you do?
Taylor, wailing: A MISTAKE
...
Mr. Thomas: What are your goals?
Ashlyn: To pet all the dogs.
Mr. Thomas: No, I meant your goals for this trip.
Ashlyn: To pet all the dogs in Savannah.
...
Logan: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming?
Ashlyn: Does anyone in this godforsaken group ever think before they speak?
...
Taylor: Aiden isn’t answering their phone
Ashlyn: I’ll call
Taylor: Ben and I have both tried six times each, what makes you thi-
Aiden: Hello?
...
Aiden: I was arrested for being too cool.
Tyler: The charges were dropped due to a lack of supporting evidence.
...
Aiden: Jail is no fun. I’ll tell you that much
Taylor: You’ve been to jail?
Aiden: Once. In Monopoly.
...
Mike: You love me, right?
Emma: Normally, I’d say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere and I don’t like it.
...
Aiden: Let’s watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl.
Ashlyn: Okay
Aiden: And make out during the scary parts.
Ashlyn: The-
Ashlyn: The scary parts?
Ashlyn: Of Sharkboy and Lavagirl.
...
Ashlyn: How petty can you get?
Tyler: I once edited a Wikipedia article to win an argument I was wrong about.
Taylor: I KNEW IT-
...
Aiden: I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them.
Logan: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.
...
Mike: So what’s for dinner?
Emma, staring at the food she just burnt: Regret.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
That's all for today!
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fireflyinks · 7 months
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good boy ⭒
reader x peeta mellark smut
a/n : i’m actually screaming this was so fun to write, pls repost if ya like it!! 💗
contains : sub peeta mellark, soft dom reader, praise kink, multiple rounds, peeta and the reader own a bakery, pinv, talk of having kids, no protection, riding
MATURE 18+
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Peeta Mellark was a hard worker. Partly because that’s just who he was as an individual, but mainly because of his upbringing. The need to impress ran through his body as if it were his own blood. He craved praise, feened off of it as if it were a sweet, sweet nectar.
This notion was very present in his every day life. When he’d accidently burn a loaf or spill a bag of flour, his face would turn a rosey pink shade out of shame and he’s scramble to fix his mistake. His puppy dog eyes would shoot over to me, as if to scream “I’m sorry! I’m so very sorry! Please don’t hurt me!”, only to be met with a peck on the cheek and a whisper of “It’s okay, you’re fine”. His eyes would soften, and his hands would become less clammy, brow less furrowed, and cheeks even rosier.
If I dared to give him a slight compliment in the morning, the blonde’s head would be in the clouds for the rest of the day, almost in a trance from the mere thought of his special girl thinking he was admirable.
At first, I thought this whole ordeal was sort of sad, I mean depressing even. Peeta was just so love starved.
But then I learned how to use it to my advantage.
There he was, on top of me, trying his very best to impress me. His cock pistoned in and out vigorously, each one of my moans encouraging him. My back arched off of the sheets as I wrapped my legs around his waist, trying to get him deeper.
He understood this rather quickly, trading speed for force and plunging himself directly into my core.
“Good boy.” I moaned out, almost automatically. His pace faltered for a moment, starstruck.
“Say that again.” He whimpered.
“Say what baby?” I questioned, confused as to why he’d stopped.
“Uh, please can you um call me a good boy again?” He mumbled. Something in his eyes had shifted, he looked almost helpless.
“Well…” I decided to tease him, rile him up more. “I can only do that if you act like one, so if you fuck me real good, yeah, you can be my good boy.”
Peeta nodded, beginning to thrust into me once again, determined to be a good boy.
“That’s it, there’s a good boy.” I cooed, gazing up at him with major ‘fuck me’ eyes.
His jaw slacked and he moaned deeply. “You’re so- fuck, you’re so hot.”
I giggled at the love drunk expression on his face. “Thank you, my handsome boy.”
I felt his cock twitch inside of me. God, praise really did have an effect on him.
“I- oh baby I’m gonna come.”
I moaned as he fucked me deeply, hitting my g-spot with each thrust.
“Go ahead, come inside of me like a good boy.”
His eyes rolled back into his head as he came with his new found permission. He pulled out immediately, connecting our lips before lying down beside me.
“That was- fuck, amazing.” He sighed, looking up at the ceiling.
There was silence for a few moments before he realized.
He sprung into apology immediately.
“Holy shit baby, you didn’t come, did you? I’m so sorry love, I’ll do whatever you want, eat you out, fuck you again, whatever you want. I’m so stupid, I don’t know how I-“
I pressed my lips to his to shut him up as I climbed on top of him.
“No baby, you don’t have to ride me, I’m the one who messed up. Let me-“
“Peeta, I want you to be a good boy and listen to me.”
I angled his wet cock upward before sinking down onto it. I began working my hips.
“You are not stupid, you are so smart.” I bounced on him as I spoke, “you’re so good to me, everybody makes mistakes and that’s ok. You have gotten me off a million times before. You’re such a good fucking boy.”
He began to look away as blush creeped into his face. I grabbed his chin and forced him to look me in my eyes.
“You’re so handsome baby, ah fuck- you’re such a hard worker, and you’ll make an amazing father one day.”
My legs began to shake as I released on his lap, my cum flowing down his cock. I continued to ride him throughout my high.
“Now say it to me.” I ordered.
“You’re so beauti-“
I shook my head, “No, tell me about how much of a good boy you are.”
His face contorted, clearly too shy to say such things.
I touched his face lightly, “Peeta, good boys do what they’re told. Be a good boy.”
He nodded, “Um- I’m a good boy.” He whimpered, unsure of himself.
“I don’t believe you. Say it like you mean it.”
He cleared his throat, looking into my eyes. “I’m a good boy. I made a mistake and that’s ok. I’m so handsome and will make a really good father. Fuck- I’m gonna come.”
He released inside of me, painting my spongy walls white. His voice filled the room with pornographic noises. After letting him catch his breath, I crawled off of him. Peeta walked into the bathroom for a moment and came back with a damp rag and a smile on his face.
He began to slowly clean me up. I looked in between my thighs and laughed at the amount of semen that had collected.
“Jeez, if we don’t start being more careful, you might be an amazing father sooner than we’d imagined.”
He chuckled, pressing his lips onto mine. “I’d be ok with that.”
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kaitlynpcallmebeepme · 2 months
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Sea Sickness
Sea Sickness
Luke Hughes x fem!reader (established relationship, but still new)
Idea: Reader gets nauseous from being on the boat at the Hughes’s Lake House and snuggles up to Luke.
Requested: Nope. 
Author’s Note:  I know I’m bouncing around who I’m writing for, but I’m on a NHL spree right now. I also get nauseated if I'm on a boat or in the ocean for too long. Fun Fact: I wrote the beginning part of this on a note card while working by myself in the OR today. We had a really long case where I just had to check up on people during the middle of it (hence why I wrote this on a card because I don’t like going on my phone when I’m in the OR. It's unprofessional). I don’t know any of these people personally. The closest I’ve gotten to the team (that wasn’t just playing in the band at the games or when they were walking past us down the 2023 red carpet in tampa) was a tuba was talking to some of them in his plane row on the ride back from that trip (he ended up being the tuba you see in the senior picture from 2024) and one of the coaches had to share our bus on the way back from the 2023 frozen four game with his wife and two young daughters (I kept trying to get the younger one to smile at me unsuccessfully).  Someone from my hotel room also shared the elevator ride up with the entire Fantilli family the night they lost that game in 2023 (I think Adam also won the Hobey Baker award that same night). I’ve also been playing my lego lord of the rings game. Anyway, enjoy this little blurb.
Tagging some of my favorite Hughes/NHL writers, love y’all.
@wineauntie @thedevilrisen @winterbarnesblog @sc0tters 
I forgot to mention that this is kinda based on the cute stuff @bedsyandco writes
I'm now sad when I'm uploading this because a friend from college drumline has an incurable brain cancer. Please keep him in your thoughts and prayers (he's only 19 or 20).
Requests are still open.  Feedback is always appreciated.  Also, tell me if you want to be part of a Tag List and I’ll tag you when I upload something new. If you want to only be tagged when I upload something for a certain character or shows, let me know as well.  
Warning: None, just general fluff. Feeling sick on a boat. 
Word Count: 488
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Being on a boat wasn’t your most favorite thing in the world, mainly because the last time you were on a boat, it got stuck in the middle of the laek and had to be towed back to shore (true story), but when your boyfriend Luke invited you to spend the weekend at the lakehouse with ihs brothers and friends, you weren't going to say no. The weekend had been filled with lots of eating, playing outside, and the boys being competitive at every game they pick up (even the old board game you brought to teach them how to play).  Just trying to keep up with them all was exhausting, so that’s how you ended up on the back of the boat enjoying the warm air instead of diving into the water again.  The boys had been going back and forth between wakeboarding and chatting on the boat deck. With them supplying the lake with plenty of waves, the constand up and down was starting to make your stomach sick.  You scooched over and made yourself comfortable laying your head on Luke’s shoulder.  He then opened his arms and wrapped you in his warm embrace so you could crawl on his lap and snuggle closer to his chest. 
“You feeling ok?” 
“Yeah, just want to stop the constant movement.” It was getting to a point were you just wanted to stop the constant movement.  It being really hot out didn’t help either. 
“We’ll head to shore soon. Then we can cool off inside.” 
Being wrapped up in Luke’s embrace with his fingers gently carding through your hair or down your shoulder leaving goosebumps in their wake and shading you with his fit body definitely helped keep your mind off of your stomach and the boat’s ever shifting movements.  Luke wasn’t much of a pda person, but you always encouraged him to show little bits of it at least in front of his family or close friends.  
Little did you know, that’s exactly who was eyeing the interaction.  Jack, Quinn, Trevor, Cole, and Dylan all had stopped what they were talking about in favor of watching the interaction between you two.  Eventhough they were not all related, they felt like proud older brothers seeing Luke be so considerate and affectionate in front of them.  Of couse they’re all going to tease him relentlessly later about this, but they were gentlemen in regards to respecting the timing and the moment.
“Just lay down and close your eyes. We’ll be on shore soon.”  You snuggled deeper into Luke’s neck keeping your eyes closed and focused on his soft skin, his natural scent, and the way his warm body curled around yours. He even tugged on your legs to pull you fully into his lap as his large frame wrapped around your body fully encasing you in his warmth and comfort. 
Nothing better than enjoying the summer with those you love.
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cosmal · 1 year
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ooooh poly!marauders who are really in tune with their s/o's emotions, even when she tries to hide them? like maybe they're out for a meal or at a party and she gets overwhelmed and they just realise straight away and bring her out of the setting? i love them soooo much
in the car
summary the boys take you home when you get overwhelmed at a party.
content poly!marauders x fem!reader
note omg first poly!m blurb. sorry it kinda sucks :[
You sit on a retaining wall in Marlene's backyard and try to focus on her pretty flowers instead of feeling so anxious. You haven't spoken to anyone in twenty minutes, not even the boys, and you've really tried your best not to put such a damper on the night.
They're having a lot of fun, you know they've had a tiring week and everyone hasn't been together in a long time so you won't ruin anything for them.
You pick at your nails and chew on the ice in your drink to keep your mind distracted. You thought you could handle it tonight, you hoped you wouldn't get as overwhelmed as you were expecting. You'd felt anxious before you even left, you thought seeing your friends might've helped.
You're too busy staring a hole through your glass to notice James sitting next to you. You startle when he speaks and bite your lip at your error.
"Hey, sweetheart," he says softly and ignores your jump. You feel a little pathetic.
"James," you sigh. You can't look him in the eye.
"Ready to go?" he clasps and hand to your shoulder and does that stupid, toothy grin he knows you love.
"What? We just got here." It feels like it's been hours. It's been one at most.
"Yeah, I know." He stands back up and hovers over you. It's almost irritating how pretty he looks. He doesn't make any of this any easier. You feel awful for ruining their night. "You look so sad, honey. We thought we'd go home."
"I can Uber if you want." You regret it before you even say it.
"What? No, don't be so silly." Yeah. Expected.
"I don't wanna leave just cause of me. I'm fine, don't worry."
James doesn't let you mope any longer. "No, c'mon, up."
"James..."
"It's okay," he takes your hand to encourage you, smiling, "really. I wanna leave anyway." Then much quieter, "Frank's tryna get me drunk."
You let him lift you up and fall into his side where you feel you belong. You feel half-relieved already, despite feeling selfish. "Where're the others?"
"Sirius went to get the car,'' he grabs your hand and leads you through the side gate. "I think Remus went with him."
You're not sure why you feel so blindsided by this all. Most of the time they're so intuned with you, they know when you're overwhelmed or just having a bad time. You're the same with them. You rub Remus's shoulders before without him telling you they're sore, you call James when you know he's having a bad day after he messages you, and you hug Sirius before he tells you he wants a cry.
You step out onto the pavement and find Sirius pulled up with Remus, waiting for you and James. You feel bad for ditching but not as much as so when they look so happy to see you. "What if I'd convinced you to stay? They would've been out here all night, probably," you ask before you get to the car.
"Wouldn't have worked." He opens your door for you.
You slide along the back seat for James to sit next to you and are welcomed by a lovely warmth. James gets in too and you think he wants to click you in as well but decides against it.
"You okay, lovely?" Remus asks from the passenger seat, he twists around to look you over and you feel bare.
"I'm okay," you say softly. "Hasn't Sirius been drinking?"
Sirius snorts from behind the wheel. "I've had two, don't worry, lovely."
You know you're deflecting, you suspect as soon as Sirius also asks if you're okay, you might cry. Your throat feels thick with an upset that feels worse now in a contained space. This is half the reason you wanted to leave on your own. Not that being surrounded by your boys when you're upset is bad, just might've been easier to steel yourself.
You reach a hand down on the seat between you and James and scrunch it tight. He unclicks himself and sides over to you. He gets an arm around your shoulder and encourages you into his side, as much as your seatbelt will allow.
"You okay?" Sirius dangerously whips his head back to look at you, pouting.
The first tear dribbles down your cheek.
You hide your face in James's firm shoulder and shake your head. He tuts and cages your head in with a big hand. Your tears are hot and slow, marring James's pretty shirt. You hope you don't turn messy with it. He looks good.
James murmurs something like, "Hurry up, Sirius." The car roars.
You feel the car slow at a red light and peel yourself away from James's chest. Face wet and hot, your hair stuck to your cheeks. "Shit, I'm sorry," you curse and wipe your face with a rough hand. James's arm stays around your shoulder.
"Hey, it's okay, yeah?" Remus uses his long arm to grab your knee. He squeezes firmly and it feels nice. You hope you're close to home, you want to hug Sirius as well. He looks similarly worked up.
"I'm sorry I made us leave," you sniffle.
"You didn't make us do anything," James says, voice as firm as he can manage. "We don't mind. It's just...you gotta tell us if you're not feeling good, okay? We might be able to prevent these pretty eyes from crying." He uses the side of his finger to wipe under your watery eyes, brushing over your clumped eyelashes. You blink slowly.
"I didn't want to ruin-"
"You didn't ruin anything," Sirius interrupts, "We just want to make sure you're okay."
He steals another look at you. You nod gently. "Yeah."
"Remus was complaining to me, anyways," James says, smug. "Said I looked so good that he wanted to take me home."
You start to laugh, much to the boy's pleasure. "Really?"
"Yeah," James nods, "Said he wanted to - and I quote - jump my bones."
Remus looks incensed. You're just happy the teasing isn't on your behalf for once. "Whatever, James."
"You do look pretty, James," you say, still sidled up to him, "I don't blame him."
He squeezes you hard. and laughs, pleased you're feeling better. "I'm sure Remus'll be telling me all night how good this shirt looks on me."
"It does!"
"Okay, James's head might explode," Sirius says. He'd looked just as in love all night, you'd seen it.
"Woah!"
You sit back and watch your boys fight over stupid things. You think you could do it for the rest of your life if they allowed it. You're sure they'd make a fool of themselves over and over if it made you happy.
Sirius catches you staring. "Feeling a little better?"
You nod, pleased, but embarrassed to be caught. "Yeah."
"Good." You must be almost home.
"Hey, Sirius?" you say softly.
"Yeah, lovely?" He might crash if he keeps turning to look at you like that.
"Can we stop at McDonald's?" you ask softly, even softer eyes like he'd ever say no.
"Yeah, sounds good. Remus needs a happy meal."
-
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punkshort · 3 months
Text
i know who you are | 4. the others
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Chapter Summary: Winter begins to wrap its arms around Jackson, filling the town with snow and a nasty flu. Joel takes you to meet Ben and Lisa, and you finally discover more about your past.
Chapter Warnings: language, angst, amnesia, sad!joel, pining, sexual tension, slow burn, jealousy
WC: 9K
Series Masterlist
You looked happy.
Ever since you began working at the infirmary, you seemed happier. Like you were grateful to have a purpose. A way to contribute. To give back to the community that supported you.
You smiled more and you didn't shy away from him as much as you used to and it gave Joel hope. Every time you saw him and greeted him with a smile or said goodbye with a squeeze of his shoulder, it made his heart flutter. It's been weeks. Months, technically. But he was making some progress.
It was the first snowfall of the season and it put you in an even better mood than usual. Your face was pressed up against the window as he tended to the fire behind you, and you watched as the big, fluffy flakes of snow fell from the sky, coating Jackson in a perfect blanket of pure white.
"I didn't get much snow where I'm from," you told him over your shoulder. He knew that already, but he humored you.
"That so?"
"Mhmm. When I was a kid, though, we got hit with this freak storm. No one knew what to do. No one owned shovels or snow blowers or any of that, so we were all stuck inside our houses until the storm ended and everything melted," you said, turning away from the window so you could curl up on the couch, then pausing for a moment before tilting your head to the side. "Did I tell you this already?"
Yes, he thought, but he shook his head, eager for you to continue. He just loved hearing you talk, no matter what you said. Besides, if you were expected to rebuild your relationship, sharing your past would naturally be part of that, so he encouraged you to tell stories, even if he's heard them before.
"So, what happened?" he asked, putting the poker back in the stand and getting up with a groan, his knees cracking a bit before he settled in on the other end of the couch.
"Well, the power went out," you said, and he could hear the excitement in your voice, delighted to be telling him something you thought he didn't already know, and it made his heart swell. "So we didn't have any heat or any way to cook our food. We set up camping tents in the middle of our living room and slept in there with, like, five blankets each. And we lived off pop-tarts and granola bars and peanut butter sandwiches for two days til the power came back on."
"Two days?" Joel repeated, and you nodded.
"Yeah, but it was fun. As a kid, you know? I'm sure my parents were freaking out but me and Matty were excited. We played board games and ate by candlelight and told ghost stories," you said wistfully, your eyes looking miles away. "We talked about that for years," you finished softly, and Joel smiled.
"I didn't get much snow where I'm from, either," he told you, and your eyes met his again.
"Texas, right?" and he nodded. "Did you live there your whole life?"
Something deep inside him sparked with a mix of nerves and excitement. It felt like you were meeting all over again, and while it was under less than ideal circumstances, he couldn't help but feel those butterflies you feel when you first meet someone new.
"Yep, my whole life. Tommy, too, except for when he was in the army."
"Were you in the army?" you asked, but he quickly shook his head.
"Nah. Wasn't my scene. Besides, I had Sarah."
"Oh, right," you said, feeling stupid for asking. You dropped your attention to your hands, which were twisted in your lap, as you thought about your next question.
"How old was she?" you asked quietly, still looking down and avoiding his gaze, but you heard him take a deep breath.
"She was twelve when she died," he told you, his words hanging heavy in the air and he could see the conflict in your face as you tried to figure out a way to learn more about him without reopening old wounds. "It's okay, I don't mind talkin' 'bout her."
"Did we used to talk about her?" you asked him curiously, finally looking up to meet his gaze.
He shrugged. "Sometimes. But not at first. Still hurt too much back then, y'know?"
"Yeah," you breathed, your mind now drifting to thoughts of your own family. Were you together when they died? Did you see it? If so, was it some sort of sick twist of luck that you now couldn't remember?
"What was your favorite thing to do together?" you asked, watching as his eyes found a fixed point on the wall while he considered your question.
"My favorite thing was hiking. Hers was goin' to the movies or the mall, most likely," he said with a soft chuckle. "I didn't mind, though. I was just happy she still wanted to be seen with her old man at that age. Makes me wonder if she felt bad for me or somethin'."
You furrowed your brow, confused. "Why would she feel bad for you?"
He sighed and scratched the back of his neck. "I didn't date much. Had a few poker buddies but I mostly spent my time with Tommy. Just worked so hard back then that I was too tired to do much else."
"And you were a contractor?" you asked, trying to remember the small pieces of information you picked up over the last two months. He nodded.
"Yeah, me and Tommy had our own business. That was a lifetime ago. Can't imagine doin' that kind of work now, not with my back," he said with a smile.
Joel's eyes flicked to the window over your shoulder, watching as the snow continued to come down, the window panes growing foggy in the corners. "Looks like we ain't goin' anywhere for a while," he said, changing the subject. You followed his gaze and nodded.
"What about Ellie? Is she okay back there?"
"Yeah, she'll be alright. She could make it up to the house if she got too cold," he assured you.
So, you were essentially snowed in. All alone.
You could feel his eyes on you as you watched the fire and you wondered if he was thinking about an alternate reality. One where you didn't have an accident. Where you remembered everything. One where you loved him the way he so obviously loved you, and what you might be doing differently in that very moment. You had a feeling your hunch was correct because he stretched his arm across the back of the couch and subtly inched a little closer towards you, the worn cushions dipping from his weight and causing your leg to bob.
Your body stiffened and your heart suddenly felt like it was being crushed in your throat. He was so patient, you had to give him credit. It couldn't be easy for him, and although you could finally admit to yourself that you found him attractive, you still didn't think you trusted him enough to take things any further. Not yet. Not when you still had so many questions. Your eyes drifted up to meet his and as you expected, he was watching you closely. Carefully. Trying to read you the same way you were trying to read him. The problem was, every time he looked at you that way, with his eyes all soft and filled with adoration, you could only think about what he was hiding. What did he lie about? And why was he so hesitant for you to meet Ben and Lisa?
Joel leaned in a fraction and his fingers tightened their hold on the back of the couch. He wanted to kiss you. He's wanted to kiss you ever since that day in the field right before that clicker ruined the moment. And with the soft glow from the fire and the snow falling silently outside, it felt like the perfect moment. He was terrified of making things worse after he finally felt like he made some progress, but it was killing him. He missed having you so fucking much, sometimes it felt like it actually caused him physical pain. Like his chest would explode one day.
He swallowed nervously and inched a little closer and you panicked. Just as he was about to say something, you cut him off.
"Do you wanna play a board game?"
He raised his eyebrows in surprise and you gave him a nervous smile.
"Sure," he replied, watching as you jumped off the couch to look through the games stacked on the bookcase. He groaned inwardly and rubbed his chin when you bent over and he had to force himself to look away before his body reacted, praying you didn't pick Twister.
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It took two days but the snow finally stopped. Ellie did eventually make her way to the house by the second day, simply because she was bored, so you helped Joel make a vegetable soup while Ellie set up the Monopoly board in the living room. You didn't have all the pieces, but you had enough, and what you didn't have you supplemented with buttons.
You didn't realize it; too caught up in cooking and the joy it used to bring you, but you and Joel worked together seamlessly in the kitchen. He chopped up zucchini while you diced onion and watched the pot on the stove that was cooking up noodles, slipping past each other to get to the sink and the cupboards and it all just felt so fucking normal that it made his chest ache. He wanted to draw your attention to it. He wanted to take you by the shoulders and say See? See how good we are together? But he didn't. He bit his tongue and bided his time until you came to that conclusion on your own, just like the first time.
But the first time was different. At least back then, you showed him affection. You kissed him and held him and shared your body with him and although you didn't want much more, not at first, eventually you did. And those moments in his bed were enough to hold him over until you opened your eyes and saw what was right in front of you.
He was selfish. He knew it was wrong to want you like that right now, but he wanted all of you, not just physically. He yearned to know what was going on behind your eyes, what you were thinking and feeling. What you thought of him. But if you would maybe just let yourself fall asleep in his arms on the couch while you read in front of the fire, or let him kiss you, just once, then maybe you would see it again. Feel it again.
"What the hell does a purple button mean?" you asked with a giggle, holding up the smooth, round plastic between your fingers.
"It's a hotel, duh!" Ellie said, grinning and rolling her eyes.
"Wait, why am I goin' to jail?"
"You rolled doubles three times in a row!" you told him, and you and Ellie bent over laughing at the confused expression on his face.
He made a disgruntled noise and moved his token to the corner of the board as he watched you and Ellie giggling and wiping tears from your eyes and fuck, it was nice. In another world, he would have made some joke about you being the one in handcuffs and maybe later he would have followed through with it and tied your wrists to the headboard, burying his face between your thighs until you couldn't take it anymore.
But instead, he just watched two of the people he loved most in the world have fun, the orange glow from the fire flickering over your smiling faces while the snow finally came to a stop outside.
Ellie had trekked back to the garage once the game was over. It was late, you looked tired, but he still suggested putting a movie on. He wasn't ready to let you go. He hated going to bed all alone. You seemed to consider his offer for a moment before you shook your head and yawned, and although he knew that would likely be your answer, he still felt his heart sink.
He walked you to your bedroom and as he was about to say goodnight, hoping to minimize the hurt by making it quick, you did something that surprised him. You pulled him into a hug, standing on your tiptoes, your chin resting on his shoulder with your arms wrapped around his neck, body pressed firmly against his and just as quickly as it happened, you pulled away. Joel was so stunned he wasn't sure he hugged you back, even though he stood cemented to the floor well after you went to bed, replaying the hug over and over, all he could remember was how he felt. And he went to bed that night with renewed hope blooming in his chest. Maybe you were finally coming around.
So the next morning when you asked him out of the blue if you could visit Ben and Lisa once the streets cleared of snow, he had a hard time finding a reason to say no. He should have known you wouldn't let it go, but he did hold out hope that maybe you moved on from the idea since it had been a few weeks when you last mentioned them.
He agreed, of course, not wanting to ruin the delicate foundation of your relationship. Besides, he already decided he would go with you and make sure they didn't tell you anything you weren't ready to hear.
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The snow had melted enough where the road was visible again, but the snowbanks still piled high around the buildings and houses and you felt strangely nervous as you followed Joel down the street. He had finally agreed to take you to meet Ben and Lisa, and while you were grateful he didn't have the reaction he had the first time you mentioned them, you still wondered what caused that outburst.
You tried to convince yourself that maybe he was just tired and cranky that day, having just gotten back from patrol for the fourth day in a row. But something still felt... off.
"Wow, when Ellie said they lived on the outskirts, she wasn't kidding," you said, realizing you were reaching an edge of Jackson you had yet to explore.
"Yeah, they tend to keep to themselves," he replied without further explanation. He didn't seem agitated, but he definitely wasn't happy about going to see them. He seemed more quiet and subdued than usual.
Finally, you arrived at a quaint looking cottage tucked back from the road a ways. Like Ellie had said, it was small, but it looked cozy. You could see the smoke pluming from the chimney and you couldn't wait to warm up again.
There was no porch. Just a small roof over the front door and a folding chair that looked like it had seen better days. He knocked firmly on the door and after a moment, you heard light shuffling on the other side.
The door cracked open and you were greeted by a short woman around your age with dull, brown hair and bright green eyes. She saw Joel first and, like most people in town, she hesitated. But then she noticed you next to him and her expression changed. A wide smile stretched across her face and she said your name softly, then held her arms out for a hug.
"It's so good to see you," she said in your ear, giving you a tight squeeze before turning around and ushering you both inside. "Come in, come in, it's freezing out there. Ben! You'll never guess who's here!"
You both stepped inside and as you were slipping off your outerwear, you glanced around the small space. It was tight, but it was filled with warmth. The living room had two small, mismatched loveseats on either side of the stone fireplace. Two large bookshelves that were filled with so many books that the shelves were sagging stood on either side of the fire, and curiously you didn't notice a television anywhere in the room.
You heard a man's deep voice behind you say your name and you jumped in surprise. Turning around, you were pulled into another hug by who you could only assume was Ben. He was tall - taller than Joel - and you wondered how on earth such a small house could fit such a large man. He stepped away, his dark eyes glittering with his hands still on your shoulders, taking in your appearance as if you haven't seen them in years.
Maybe you haven't.
You were so focused on absorbing every little detail about the house and its residents that you didn't notice Joel's body stiffen next to you, his eyes glued to Ben's hands. And while Lisa seemed to have the same reaction to Joel that everyone else in town did, Ben, on the other hand, did not seem phased by his presence. In fact, he appeared pleased to see him. Once he dropped his hands from your shoulders, he stretched out a lanky arm and shook Joel's hand, giving him a kind smile which Joel had a hard time returning.
"What a wonderful surprise. Come, let's sit. Do you want coffee or tea?" Ben asked, his eyes drifting between you and Joel. You both shook your heads and Ben smiled warmly at you once again. Even though the living room was just a few feet away from the front door, Ben still rested his hand on your shoulder and guided you to one of the loveseats as if you might lose your way, only dropping his hold on you when he sat down across from you on the other one.
Joel eased himself down on the couch beside you, the space so small that he had no choice but to rest his leg against yours, and Lisa went to join Ben, the crackling fire between both loveseats warming you up right away.
"We heard you had an accident. How are you feeling?" Lisa asked, her voice so small and gentle compared to Ben's booming baritone.
"Better, thanks. But it's kind of why I'm here," you said, glancing over at Joel nervously, but he was staring silently at Ben, who still seemed unaffected.
Lisa tilted her head to the side and wrapped a hand around Ben's forearm, leaning into him a bit as she got more comfortable on the couch. You noticed for the first time a basket on the floor next to her feet filled with different colored yarn and half knitted projects tucked inside. "Oh?" she asked, then it seemed to dawn on her. "Oh! Is it... is it true? Do you really have memory loss?"
When you nodded, you noticed the flicker of pity across both their faces as they exchanged a somber look.
"I can only remember my life before the outbreak. My mom, dad and brother. I don't even remember what happened or how they died or how I managed to survive," you began, feeling yourself growing a little emotional. Joel must have sensed it in your tone because he squeezed your knee reassuringly, and when you glanced over at him, he had finally torn his eyes away from Ben to look at you with concern.
"It's been hard," Joel said, finally speaking up, addressing Ben and Lisa. "Lots of confusion, lots of missin' pieces. But she kept a journal. Turns out, she wrote 'bout you two, so that's why we're here," he finished, narrowing his eyes a bit at them.
"You wrote about us? How sweet," Ben said cheerily, running a hand through his dark blonde curls.
"Yes, but-"
"It wasn't anythin' that detailed," Joel said quickly, and you frowned at him. He sat back into the sofa and glanced over at you. "Right?"
"Yeah," you said slowly, dragging your eyes away from Joel and back to your hosts. "Just that we went fishing and it felt like old times," you continued, and they both smiled at the memory. The only sound in the room was the fire next to you, the wood popping loudly under the flames as you weighed your next question. "So I was hoping you might help tell me about myself before we arrived in Jackson. Is that... okay?"
Lisa shifted in her seat, a small smile still twitching at her lips as she gazed up at Ben, waiting for him to reply. He hesitated a moment and you thought you saw his eyes flicker to Joel before responding.
"Of course," Ben said, slapping the tops of his thighs, jostling loose Lisa's grip on his arm. He quickly picked her hand back up and brought her knuckles to his lips for a quick kiss, but your eyes were drawn to the unfamiliar symbol tattooed on the inside of her wrist, only made visible when Ben picked up her arm and her sleeve hung down.
"Can you tell me about when we first met?" you asked, figuring you should start at the beginning.
"Oh, what was it? Six or eight months after the outbreak, yeah?" Ben wondered aloud, looking to Lisa to confirm. She nodded and scratched her neck.
"Sounds about right."
You allowed yourself to feel a glimmer of excitement. There were two people right in front of you that could help fill in the blanks for the first five years after the outbreak, and you couldn't wait to hear more.
"We met in the Atlanta QZ," he began, but you quickly stopped him.
"QZ?"
"Quarantine Zone. All the major cities had 'em. Was meant to keep people safe from infected but the military ran most of 'em into the ground," Joel explained. "Treated people like cattle. Strict curfews. Barely enough rations to survive."
"It was awful," Lisa added solemnly.
"Was I alone?" you asked them, and Ben nodded. "Did I tell you anything about my family? How they died?"
Their eyes shifted to Joel for a moment before looking at one another.
"I thought you had said the infected got your mom on the first day. But your dad and brother..." Ben trailed off, looking down at his hands sadly. "They got caught out after curfew. It happened before we got there. They... were punished."
You frowned a little, looking to Joel to help shed some light on what Ben meant, but he was staring down at his feet.
"Punished?" you squeaked as your heart began to pound faster in your chest.
"Punishment for bein' out after curfew was death," Joel spoke up softly next to you.
You looked at all three of them, your eyes wide in disbelief. "Death? The military were killing people?"
"It was horrible. It's why we escaped," Lisa replied with tears in her eyes.
"Okay, then what?" you pressed, trying not to dwell too long on the thought of your father and brother being murdered by the very people who were supposed to protect them.
"After we escaped?" Ben clarified, and you nodded. He cleared his throat and averted his gaze. "We survived. Did what we had to do."
There it was again. Did what we had to do. The same thing Joel said when you brought up Lisa and Ben the first time.
You waited for him to elaborate but when it became apparent Ben had finished talking, you pushed him further. "Like what? What does that mean?"
"We laid low. Found some secluded spots in the wilderness and stuck it out for as long as we could," Lisa said, her eyes casually drifting between the two men. You looked at Joel, who was holding a steady glare at Ben and Lisa, but otherwise he was perfectly silent.
"For five years we just laid low? In the woods? The three of us?" you asked, and they could tell you knew they weren't telling you the whole truth. "What aren't you telling me? Did we do something bad? Did something happen?"
Joel shifted in his seat next to you but you kept your eyes pinned on Lisa and Ben, trying to read the expressions on their faces.
Ben was the first to fold. He dragged his eyes up to meet yours and gave you a half smile and shrug. "Yeah. I mean, everyone did bad things one time or another. It's impossible not to-"
"Like what?" you demanded. You could feel your anger building up now. "I'm not a child. Just tell me."
Ben sighed and looked at Joel once again, and this time you had enough.
"Why do you keep looking at him?"
Ben's eyes snapped back to you and he forced out a small chuckle, trying in vain to diffuse the tension in the room.
"You're our guests, so I'm looking at you both."
You weren't going to argue with him when it was clear he was looking at Joel for direction on what to say. It all made sense now. No wonder Joel didn't fight you on coming to visit them. He had planned all along to control the conversation and keep you in the dark and something inside you snapped.
Standing up from the couch suddenly, you looked down at Ben and Lisa, anger brimming in your eyes.
"Thanks," you spat, heading towards the front door. "Sorry to bother you both."
"It's no bother," Lisa said, her voice wavering as she followed you to the door. "Really. Stop by any time, it was nice to see you."
You scoffed and resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you shoved your boots and coat back on, doing your best to finish before Joel so you could get a head start back home.
Flinging open the door without another word, you took a deep breath and stormed down the street, the chilly winter air filling your lungs, trying to cool your anger from the inside out. But then you heard Joel's heavy footsteps crunching in the snow, hurrying to catch up to you, and your rage peaked again.
"You alright?" he asked when he found his place back by your side.
"No, I'm not alright," you seethed, staring straight ahead with your arms wrapped around your middle. "What was that back there?"
"What'dya mean?"
You skidded to a stop and glared at him, his cheeks pink from the cold and his chest rising and falling a little quicker than usual.
"You know what I mean. I'm not stupid, Joel. What don't you want me to know?"
He stared at you, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to figure out how to respond.
"I'm not-"
"Don't bullshit me!" you yelled, and when you remembered you were in the middle of the street, you lowered your voice. "They were clearly scared of you. You didn't want them to tell me something. It was so obvious, Joel! I hit my head but I'm not fucking blind."
"I didn't ask them to say or not say anythin'," he said truthfully.
You stared at one another, both watching as your exhale mixed together, little clouds swirling in between you before rising above your heads and disappearing, each waiting for the other to break first.
"Maybe I should move out," you finally said, voice filled with sadness. His face fell instantly.
"Why?"
"You know why. I don't think I can trust you. How can I, when I can't even get a simple answer out of you?" What did he lie about?
If you had stabbed him in the chest, it would have hurt less. His gaze fell to the ground and he felt his throat begin to constrict. He had to do something. He couldn't lose you. So he told you a half truth.
"You and Ben used to be a thing," he said, and your jaw dropped in surprise.
"What?"
He clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes. "Before you came to Jackson. You and him were a couple."
You looked away from him, taking a minute to wrap your mind around what he just told you. You supposed it would make sense. It would explain why Joel was so weird about bringing you to see them. Maybe you misread the tension in the room. Maybe the tension was about something else entirely.
"That's why you were acting so strange? That's why you were staring him down?" you asked. His answer was still difficult to believe. It explained Joel's behavior, but it didn't explain what bad things you had done and why nobody seemed willing to tell you what they were.
He shrugged and rubbed his hands together. "Can we talk about this at home? I'm freezin'," he said.
The walk afforded you more time to think now that you had this new piece of the puzzle. Ben did seem like your type: he was handsome and kind, but if you and Ben were together in the past, where did that leave Lisa? They were clearly an item now. Wouldn't that have made for a strange relationship between the three of you? Perhaps that's why you didn't see them often.
Joel let you stew in silence for the walk home, fucking praying what he told you would be enough to keep you from following through with your threat. Why did it feel like every time he made some progress with you, something happened that fucked everything up?
Maybe he should have just let them tell you the whole truth.
No, that would have been bad. You didn't trust him enough yet. You said it yourself. And if you were willing to move out over something like this, you certainly would never speak to him again if you knew the whole story.
He needed to earn your trust first but it was so fucking hard when you wouldn't let him in. When you found out the truth the first time, you were already months into a relationship with him. You were already sleeping together, and while it didn't evolve into anything more until later, it still helped build your trust in him when he finally told you the truth.
He didn't have that with you now, and for the first time he began to doubt his ability to make you fall in love with him again.
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You huddled in front of the fire after the long walk home, the two of you remaining silent the entire way. Joel was in the kitchen, most likely avoiding you and your questions while you warmed up. You weren't even going to bother bringing up the topic again, but Joel surprised you by doing it himself.
"I'm sorry. 'Bout earlier," he said from the entryway. You turned from the fire to look at him. He looked worried. His eyes were wide and his brow was knit while his hands fidgeted at his sides.
"Why didn't you just tell me?" you asked, and he sighed.
"Dunno. Guess I was hopin' you'd let it go or change your mind," he said, ticking his jaw to the side.
"What would it have even mattered? I don't remember him, I don't remember what we had together. I certainly don't have feelings for him," you told him, sitting down on the couch and tucking your legs underneath you.
He looked around the room nervously as you waited for an answer that wasn't coming.
You sighed and rubbed your eyes. "If this is going to work, you need to be honest with me-"
"I was scared, alright?" he said abruptly. You watched him hang his head between his shoulders and take a deep breath before collapsing into the arm chair next to the couch. "I was scared you'd maybe remember him or..." he trailed off, finding it difficult to put into words what he was thinking. And although it wasn't the whole truth, it still was the truth. He was afraid this version of you would want someone like Ben and not like him.
He was afraid of losing you.
You seemed to understand because you didn't ask him to finish his thought. Instead, since he was opening up, you asked him something else that was bothering you.
"What did I do?"
He looked at you curiously, not following at first until you continued.
"Ben said I did bad things. We all did bad things to survive. What did he mean?"
Joel swallowed and thought about his answer for a moment. You sighed, growing impatient.
"You can't keep the truth from me forever. I'll find out one day, just tell -"
"You killed people," he told you, and you completely lost your train of thought. You searched his face as all of the air rushed out of your lungs, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.
"I killed people?" you repeated, your voice barely a whisper, and he nodded slowly. You felt the tears begin to well up in your eyes but you blinked them away. What kind of monster did you become?
"Innocent people?"
"Depends on who you ask," he said right away, almost as if he expected that question.
"What does that mean?"
He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully as he stared into the fire. "I told you. Everyone did what they had to do in order to survive. I know it's hard for you to understand what it was like, but there were a lot of bad people out there. A lot of bad fuckin' people. The military was outta control. There were revolutions and raiders and slavers." He paused and sniffed a bit, continuing to stare into the flames while you hung on his every word. "When I say you killed people... it ain't black and white. I killed people, too. Alotta people. When the whole goddamn world ends and all you got left is one or two people you care 'bout, you'll do whatever you gotta do to protect 'em. D'you understand?" he asked, finally dragging his eyes up to look at you.
You blinked, thinking about what he said, his words rolling around your head like pinballs.
"I think so," you said quietly.
He nodded, still pinning you with his stare. "We all made decisions. We made choices based on what we knew at the time and we did our best."
You nodded, your voice wavering a bit when you asked "Am I a bad person, Joel?"
His eyebrows pinched together and he leaned forward in his chair, wanting to reach out to you, comfort you and pull you into his arms, but he refrained. "No, baby. You ain't a bad person," he told you softly.
And you weren't sure why, but you believed him.
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The streets were quiet as you slowly made your way to the infirmary. You didn't start your shift until late in the morning and you didn't feel like joining Ellie at the dining hall for breakfast, so you stayed home, only getting out of bed when you heard Joel leave for patrol. He had already warned you the night before that he would be back later than usual due to the storm. Trails would likely be difficult to pass and nobody could predict if there would be damage at any of the outposts, but it was highly likely.
You didn't move out like you had threatened to. You didn't even know what you were thinking when you said that. Where would you have gone? The garage with Ellie? You didn't know anybody else. Not really. But even if you had, you saw the look in Joel's face when you said those words and even though you were so fucking angry with him, you still felt terrible for causing him pain.
On one hand, it seemed like he was just looking out for you, but on the other, his actions often came off as selfish. You had every right to know your past and what you did, and you were growing sick of Joel treating you like a child. Like you were too fragile to understand.
But at least you got it out of him. Even though you had to take extreme measures, you finally got him to tell you something truthful, and that was a positive step forward.
Lost in your thoughts, you weren't even paying attention when a man's voice called your name from across the street. You looked up after the third try and were surprised to find Ben waving to you from the tailor. You raised your hand in greeting and made your way over to the building.
"Hey," you said a little sheepishly, "about the other day, I'm sorry for how I acted-"
He shook his head and gave you a reassuring smile. "No need to apologize. All of this has to be so confusing for you. We understand."
You dropped your gaze to the frozen ground and dug your boot into the snow. "Thank you, I appreciate that. It's very frustrating, actually. I'm just trying to learn about myself and what's happened in the past ten years and I guess I took out my anger on you guys."
He waved you off and leaned against the doorframe of the tailor. "Don't worry about it. We were just happy to see you again."
And even though Ben was absolving you of your guilt, you somehow felt even worse. He was being so nice and you hardly felt like you deserved it. "Joel explained it to me, by the way. After we left your house he told me about us," you said, waving your finger back and forth between you.
"Ah," Ben said with a knowing smile as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I wondered as much. It was a very long time ago but Joel can be..." Ben trailed off and scratched his chin, "he can be a little protective, I suppose. He never really understood the nature our relationship."
You tilted your head to the side. "What do you mean?"
"It was just casual. He always thought there was something more," Ben said, meeting your eye. "But I promise you, there wasn't. At the time, we were just lonely and scared and looking for comfort. Neither of us was looking for anything more than that."
You nodded thoughtfully. "He did say we were a couple," you said, and Ben chuckled softly.
"I wouldn't even call it that. Truly. There were no hurt feelings. We just never had a connection past... y'know," he said with a shrug. You felt yourself flush a bit at the words he left unspoken and looked away. "But I'm glad he told you."
"Yeah, me too. I know his heart is in the right place, I just wish he would have told me about us and all the shit we did before I came to see you. Probably would have made the visit a little more pleasant," you said with a laugh, but Ben's face fell.
"He told you about what we did?" he asked, his tone suddenly serious. You sighed and nodded.
"Yeah, he told me I've killed people. It's been really hard to wrap my head around, but I'm trying to come to terms with it. He explained the world we live in now is not like the one I remember."
Ben raised his eyebrows in surprise and unfolded his arms. "Wow. I'm kind of shocked he told you about us and the Fireflies. That must have been really hard for you both."
You frowned and searched his face. "Fireflies?"
His body stiffened and his face paled when he realized his mistake. "Yeah. He told you about the Fireflies, right?"
You shook your head. "What are the Fireflies?"
"Shit," he muttered, pushing himself off the wall abruptly and clearing his throat. "I should get back to work. Just please forget I said anything, okay?"
"Ben, wait," you tried, but he disappeared back inside the tailor, leaving you standing in front of the door while more questions piled up.
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There seemed to be a bad flu being spread around town because the infirmary was busier than usual. You were grateful for the distraction, especially after your conversation with Ben. You had spent the better part of the afternoon rushing from exam room to exam room, cleaning up after each patient as quickly as you could so Nick could continue treating the revolving door of people coughing and sneezing in the waiting room. Nick had recommended you wear a bandana around your mouth and nose to hopefully keep you healthy, but you had a feeling it would just be a matter of time before you caught the same bug as everyone else. Still, you kept the bandana tied around your neck as you worked diligently. What you didn't expect, however, was the bit of anonymity the mask afforded you.
You were cleaning up exam room six when you heard a woman's familiar voice in the room across the hall. Nick had left the door cracked open after he ushered her inside, and she apparently had another woman in there waiting with her as you started to pick up on hushed pieces of their conversation.
You didn't intend to eavesdrop, but curiosity got the best of you when you tried to place her voice, and when you realized it was Angie, your hands froze and your body stilled, doing your best to not make any noise so you could listen.
"... going down there almost every night... matter of time... him."
"But what about... freak out."
You frowned, inching closer to the door as you tried to fill in the gaps in their conversation.
Then you heard Angie say your name clear as day and your eyebrows shot up. You pressed your back against the wall and held your breath.
"She doesn't even like him. That relationship is a ticking time bomb."
You silently gasped when you realized they were most certainly talking about you and Joel.
It wasn't even true. You liked Joel. You were attracted to Joel. You were even starting to trust Joel a little more, although you definitely had plans to ask him about the Fireflies. But you were still getting to know him and it was taking time. Was this girl talking about trying to steal Joel away from you? The idea made your stomach turn and anger flare deep in your chest.
You shocked yourself with your reaction. Steal Joel away? Since when did you begin to feel some sense of ownership over him? Were you jealous?
You heard Nick's voice leaving an exam room a few doors down and you quickly made yourself look busy. He sighed tiredly in the hallway as he flipped through some papers before pushing open the door to Angie's room. You were changing the bedding on the mattress when you heard Nick call your name and you quickly dropped the sheets to cross the hall.
When your eyes locked with Angie's, giving her a hardened stare, you swore you saw a flicker of fear before she forced a fake smile and coughed into her fist while her friend, one you recognized from the bathroom at the Tipsy Bison, nervously shifted her weight and looked away. You felt a sick sense of satisfaction when it became clear to the two girls that you had heard everything they said, and you were grateful you had your mask on so they couldn't see the corners of your mouth twitch.
"Would you mind grabbing a bag of cough drops and a jar of menthol from the supply cabinet?" Nick asked, completely oblivious to the shift in the air.
"Sure thing," you told him, turning on your heel to leave and allowing yourself to finally smile.
Joel might scare the rest of the town, but you sure as hell scared the shit out of Angie.
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Your shift at the infirmary went longer than expected. By the time you arrived home, you were exhausted and the sun was almost setting. So far you weren't feeling sick, but from what you had overheard all day, the symptoms came on quick, so you had already decided to call it an early night and get some rest. When you swung open the front door and found Joel hunched over the kitchen table, your plans went flying out the window.
He looked like he was on death's door. You had never seen him look so run down and pale. He didn't even open his eyes to look at you, he just kept them shut while he rubbed his temples and tried to stifle a cough, his backpack abandoned at his feet.
"Joel?" you called, toeing off your boots and hurrying over to him. You crouched down on the floor and pressed the back of your hand against his forehead. "You're burning up."
He groaned and cracked open one eye. "Feel like shit. Dunno what happened."
"There's a bad virus spreading around, the infirmary was slammed today," you said, pushing yourself up onto your aching feet to get him a glass of water. "Drink this and I'll heat you up some soup," you told him before heading towards the stove.
"You don't gotta-"
"Drink," you said firmly, cutting him off. He winced before picking up the glass and forcing down the cool liquid. Once you got the gas going on the stove, you grabbed an empty bowl and shoved your boots back on. "I'll be right back," you told him. He sat up a little straighter in his chair, about to ask where you were going but you already disappeared through the front door, returning seconds later with the bowl filled with snow.
"Lean back," you instructed, placing the bowl on the table. He did as he was told and closed his eyes, the lights from the kitchen ceiling making his head ache but when you pressed a handful of packed snow against his forehead, he groaned with relief.
"Oh shit, that feels good," he whispered as you tried to ignore the twinge between your legs at his low tone. He released a shaky breath and you watched as the snow began to melt, little trails of water dripping from his hair and down his scruffy cheeks. When it was nearly melted, you took your hand away and dumped the remnants in the sink, grabbing a towel and drying your hands on the way back. You pinched his stubbly chin delicately in your fingers and tipped his head towards you while slowly and gently wiping away the water from his face. When you finished, your eyes found his already boring into you and you felt a tingle shoot down your spine.
"Better?"
His gaze softened as he continued to stare up at you, searching your face quietly, making your heart begin to beat faster in your chest. You swallowed nervously and forced yourself to look away, and it was then he finally realized you had asked him a question.
"Yes," he murmured, "thank you."
You dragged your eyes back to his and gave him a small smile. "More?"
He didn't trust himself to speak. He just slowly nodded and watched with heavy lidded eyes as you scooped up another handful of snow. With your free hand, you slid your fingers behind his neck and through his hair, cupping the back of his head in your small hand before pressing the snow gently against his forehead once again. And even though he wanted to keep looking at you, he couldn't stop his eyes from fluttering shut at the cooling sensation, earning you another deep groan from his throat and causing your breath to stutter.
He heard it and opened his eyes.
You stared at each other, lips parted as the air began to thicken with tension. His eyes flickered over your face, noticing the way your pupils appeared bigger as you gazed down at him. He took a risk and slowly brought his hand up to rest on your side, watching you carefully for any sign that he should stop. He pressed his fingertips lightly into your hip, the fabric of your shirt bunching up slightly from the pressure.
You dropped your eyes to his hand and blinked rapidly, then opened your mouth to speak when you heard sizzling at the stove. You whipped your head around just as his soup began to boil over the pot.
"Shit!" you yelped, dropping the half melted snow onto the towel and racing over to the range. You twisted the knob off and put the pot on one of the unused burners and the liquid immediately simmered back down. "Sorry," you said, refusing to look at him as you started to gather a bowl and spoon, embarrassment burning your cheeks.
"Don't be," he replied, still leaning back in his chair in the same position you left him. He watched you fumble nervously in the kitchen and he had to suppress a smile.
Maybe he still had a chance, after all.
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Joel's temperature was a little high but nothing too concerning, so you pushed the fluids and he ate all of his soup and it helped put your mind at ease. You really didn't want to have to ask for ibuprofen unless it was absolutely necessary, especially considering how the same virus was hitting almost every house at the same time. You made sure to check on Ellie from her doorway, not wanting to risk her catching anything since she appeared to be fine, before helping Joel up to bed.
Once you followed him into the room and he turned on the light next to his bed, you realized you hadn't actually ever entered his bedroom before. Sure, you've walked past it when the door was open and glanced inside, but you never really looked. As he gathered some fresh pajamas and began to unbutton his flannel, you turned your back to him to give him some privacy and examined his bookshelf. Your eyes drifted over the titles on the spines of a handful of books, most of which you hadn't heard of before noticing a framed photograph sharing a shelf with his books. It was faded and a little torn, but you could still make out their faces. It was Joel - a far younger version of Joel - with his arm around a beautiful little girl with dark hair and eyes and a stunning smile. You felt your throat tighten when you realized who it was, and if you had any doubt, Joel's voice piped up behind you.
"That's Sarah."
You heard him shuffling his bedding around so you figured he was dressed.
"She's beautiful, Joel," you said, walking over to his side of the bed and popping the thermometer under his tongue one more time. "It's wonderful that you were able to find a picture of her. I wish I had some pictures of my family," you said sadly, watching the hands of the clock on top of his bookshelf tick, counting down the seconds until you could check the thermometer. "I would have loved for you to at least see them. I think you would have gotten along with my brother really well. Maybe too well," you added with a soft laugh, not realizing he was silently hanging on your every word as you continued to stare at the clock. "He was always looking out for me. Always protecting me, trying to shield me and it drove me nuts when I was younger, but as time went on, I understood it a bit more."
You pulled the thermometer out and checked the number. "Still the same," you told him, resting it on his nightstand.
"How much time?" he asked, and you gave him a confused look. "How much time did it take 'til you started to understand?" he clarified, and you realized what he was really asking.
"I don't know," you replied honestly, sitting on the edge of his bed with a sigh. "But I'm starting to... understand," you said, giving him a sideways glance. You really wanted to ask him about the Fireflies but seeing how sick he was, you decided to bring it up another time. His hand slipped out from underneath the covers and gently squeezed your knee.
"That's good," he said softly before furrowing his brow and turning his head to cough loudly into his pillow. You winced at how bad it sounded and rubbed his upper back. When the coughing fit passed, you handed him his water and he took a grateful sip.
"Do you need anything else before I go to bed?"
"Could you stay here?" he found himself asking before he could even think. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise as you struggled to answer. "Just 'til I fall asleep?"
"Oh," you replied, looking awkwardly around his rather sparse room. "Sure, let me just go wash up," you said, standing up from his bed. You were dead on your feet from your shift at work and you knew the next day wouldn't be any better, but you felt bad saying no, so you changed your clothes and grabbed one of the books Joel had found for you before dragging the chair from the corner of his room to the side of his bed.
"You can stretch out over there," he told you, pointing weakly to the other side of the bed before coughing into his closed fist. "I won't bite."
You smiled as you settled into the chair. "I'm alright, thanks," you said, opening your book and leaning back, trying to get comfortable. After a few minutes of reading, you looked up just to find him still watching you. You laughed and said "you need to get some rest if you want to kick this thing," then he grinned and finally closed his eyes.
You may not have been in bed with him, but you were close enough to help him relax and for the first time in months, he fell fast asleep within minutes.
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kxsalt · 2 months
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An evening of laughter over dinner. The young lady sits at the table with a couple, sharing wine and stories. Ever since the pair had moved back into the city, she had quickly grown very close to her friend and her new husband. From the first time she saw them together, the single girl thought they were a perfect couple. She watches them share a kiss with a pang of jealousy and another emotion her inexperienced soul can’t quite describe yet.
A week later the girl rides the train home after a terrible date. The woman had no romantic intentions and was only interested in selling health supplements. Already exhausted, she opens her dating app to see a hundred shirtless men holding fish. She closes it again with a frustrated grunt. The girl arrives at her station and starts to make her way through the crowd.
Up ahead, in the throng of people, she spots her newlywed friend. Her heart jumps, and she pushes through the mob to try and get close to her. I can’t wait to tell her about my horrible date. Maybe she’ll want to hear about it over dinner again. That unfamiliar feeling returns. Getting closer, her friend steps out of the human traffic, standing with a man she doesn’t recognize. The girl is only a few metres away, but invisible among the other passengers.
She watches her friend pull the strange man in for a kiss.
Disbelieving her own eyes, the girl freezes. Even as annoyed people bump into her, she watches, mouth agape as the married woman makes out with the stranger.
What am I seeing. I must be crazy. She wouldn’t cheat on him, they’re both perfect… for each other. I must have this person mistaken for my friend.
The kiss breaks and the woman laughs. A laugh as unique as a fingerprint. The girl sees every detail of her smile.
Oh god, it is her. Why me? What am I going to do?
She returns to her empty apartment, feeling strangely heartbroken. Her husband is an amazing man, doesn’t he deserve to know? Is it none of my business? How could she do this? The next few days are torment. Wracked with guilt from her involuntary secret, she decides to take the unenviable step of telling him about his wife’s infidelity. I have to. It would hurt him more if I didn’t tell him. And it would help her in the end. That unfamiliar feeling cracks through her fear.
Arriving at the couple’s home, the girl feels like she’s going to have a heart attack. Welcoming her in, the married man makes her a cup of tea. The girl is obviously distraught, and he tries his best to calm her down so she can talk. A word salad spills from her mouth, and she starts to cry as she explains what she saw. The man’s face falls as the girl becomes more overwrought. She finishes her story, looking at his soft, compassionate expression.
“I am so sorry that you saw that. I can see how upsetting this is to you. We were always worried that something like this would happen. I’m sorry it was you.”
The girl stops crying, disoriented by his response. She expected him to be angry, or sad, or devastated. But his only concern is for her. He doesn’t seem hurt in the slightest. The man brings her some tissues and encourages her to drink her tea. Sitting down beside her on the couch, he gently starts to explain.
“When we first started dating, we were seeing other people, too. It kind of just… never stopped. We felt comfortable with it, and we knew we wanted to be with each other… It’s changed a lot over the years. When we became official, we would give each other passes, for a date or a night of fun. Always equal. We agree on a pass, we each hook up with someone, and then we come back together. I know it’s unusual, but it works for us.”
The girl is bewildered by his explanation. He continues:
“When we got married, we knew it would change again. We both want to settle down, find a different way for us to do stuff like this without chasing random people. Actually, this pass is supposed to be the last time... Like that at least. I’m so sorry that you got so upset by what we’re doing. You’re a good friend, I know you care about both of us so much. I can see how that would terrify you.”
Her head swims, she stares at the wall. The adrenaline of her mission has worn off, replaced by confusion and embarrassment. He calls his wife and asks her to come home early, so they can explain everything together. A half hour later, she rushes through the door and envelops the young girl in a big hug. The couple holds hands while they answer her questions. The girl relaxes. Her heart warms when she sees them kiss, confirmation of their love.
Feeling as if she has intruded enough, she gets ready to leave. Excusing herself to the bathroom before she goes, the girl sits on the toilet pondering the night’s conversation.
Out of all the possible outcomes, this is the best I could have hoped for. She washes her hands. The best I could realistically hope for. The girl is confused by her own line of thinking. Anything better would be impossible. She dries her hands. What else could I wish for? The girl stares at herself in the mirror, that strange new feeling wells up inside of her, stronger than ever before.
Leaving the bathroom, she finds her friend waiting for her.
“Thank you for being so understanding… I know it’s a lot. I know you came here because you wanted what was best for us, even though it was scary. I admire that. He admires that. You’re a good friend.”
“Thanks, I’m sorry I got so far up in your business… Good luck now that you’re through the ‘giving out passes’ phase. I hope whatever you two do together brings you closer together.”
“Oh, well, we’re not quite done with the pass thing yet.” She subtly points into the living room. “He hasn’t used his pass yet.”
“Ah, well, if I see him with a girl I won’t come crying to you. Haha.”
“Haha, yeah. I mean he could use it with whoever he wanted to. That’s how it works.”
“Right, you explained that earlier.”
An awkward pause drags through the conversation.
“Do you want to stay for dinner tonight?”
“I feel like I already overstayed my welcome.”
“You haven’t. I feel like we should make it up to you.”
“Uh, maybe? I don’t know.”
“I want you to fuck my husband.”
The conversation screeches to a halt. The girl stares at her friend, dumbfounded. They start to talk over one another. You don’t think I’ve been trying to sleep with him, do you? No, I just thought you might like to try it. I wouldn’t want to cause any trouble. It’s no trouble. Wouldn’t it be weird? I don’t think so. Does he even want to? He’s brought it up before. Isn’t that weird? I brought it up first. I’m wearing ugly underwear. I could let you borrow something.
“I’m afraid it would feel like cheating.”
“I could watch, to support you. So you know it’s okay.”
The young lady’s heart almost leaps from her chest. Why did that convince me? At a loss for words, she nods her head.
Standing naked in the couple’s bedroom, she paws through her friend’s clothing. A mixture of fear and excitement whirs though her mind. Taking out a tiny pink thong, she slips it on and steps in front of the mirror. Her familiar emotions mix with the unfamiliar ones. Why does it feel so hot, wearing her lingerie?
A knock at the door, her friend enters. “You look beautiful.” The young girl blushes unexpectedly at the compliment. “My husband will love you. Are you ready?” Another emotion, another nod, more confident this time. She summons her husband.
He gives her a kind smile as he walks into the room. A loving peck on his partner’s cheek, and the man steps towards the new girl. His arms wrap around her waist and their lips touch. They surprise each other with a deep, passionate kiss. Their tongues flirt, their noses rub, their hands roam. His kisses work down her cheek, and into her neck. The girl gasps and looks over to his wife. Relief and joy as she sees her gorgeous smile. His wife’s lips move, whispering. Keep going.
Eager to please them, she reaches down to feel his cock bulge in his pants. The man groans and returns the favour, grasping her wet pussy through the skimpy thong. They touch each other, faster and faster, kissing open and free. She unzips his pants and starts to stroke his cock. He lifts up his shirt so she can see him. His body looks better than I ever imagined.
Dropping to her knees, she takes him in her mouth. The faint taste of his precum overpowers her senses. Fingering herself wildly through her friend’s tiny underwear, the girl does everything she can to make him feel good. Glancing over at his wife, she sees her rubbing her bare pussy. She’s lifted up her dress to touch her breasts, too. Her body looks better than I ever imagined.
The trio are thoroughly excited. Nobody can wait for what comes next. He lifts the girl up and tosses her onto the bed. She spreads her legs and pulls the thong to the side. The husband pushes her legs up against her chest. “Oh god, it looks so good.” The wife chimes from her spot in the corner. He rubs his hard cock against her exposed pussy. “I’ve wanted this for a long time.”
The tip, the head, half way, all the way. There’s no going back now. The married man’s cock stretches out the single girl’s pussy, and they exhale. Enjoying the warmth of his wife’s friend’s body, he starts to stroke his cock in and out of her. The girl trembles, getting used to his size. The wife gasps, rubbing her clit as fast as she can. They fuck each other, making out while the tension releases. The girl is overwhelmed by pleasure and excitement. She starts to encourage her friend.
“Your husband’s cock is so big! Ah~! It’s so good! Ah~! So big… Ah~! Your husband is fucking me so… Ah~! Good!”
“You like that, you dirty little slut?”
“Yes, I love it.”
The couple on the bed roll over. The girl takes his hands and puts them on her ass. A firm grip, and he pulls on her bumcheeks. So he can get deeper. So she can see every inch enter her. She bounces on his dick, thrilled at the thought of how little her friend’s thong is hiding. She feels her orgasm build inside of her. Quickening her pace, the girl will finish soon.
The sounds of a woman cumming fill the room. The couple look over at the wife, helplessly masturbating as she fingers herself to completion. They look back to each other, grinning. “Now it’s my turn…” The girl giggles, playing with her clit while his strong hands pull her up and down on his cock. They kiss passionately again. The girl cums on his married dick, picking up where his wife left off. Pushed over the edge by their chorus, he fills her sweet pussy.
They lie there for what could be an hour, could be a few minutes. The girl slowly climbs off of him, and walks past his wife, also basking in the glow of her orgasm. She heads down the hall, back to the bathroom, to wash up after their encounter. Looking at herself in the mirror again, her unfamiliar feelings beat in her chest. An epiphany strikes her. Like a ray of light through the clouds, she understands herself.
Stepping back into the hallway, his wife is waiting for her again.
“I really, really, enjoyed that… I hope you did, too.”
“It was almost perfect.”
The girl walks up to her. She wraps her hands around her waist. Their lips meet, they kiss. They push back into each other, letting the taste of their first embrace waft through them.
Their fingers touch. Holding hands, tugging lightly, they walk each other back to the bedroom.
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Too Good To Say Goodbye pt2
Logan Sargeant x Fem!Reader, Grid x Fem!Reader
warnings: cursing, pregnancy, shit-talking, grid baby
part 1 I part 2 I part 3 I part 4 I part 5 I part 6 I part 7
F1 Masterlist
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It had been 5 months since my last encounter with Logan. Well, the last time I actually talked to him, if you would consider the argument we had as “talking”.
After I stormed out the house with my suitcase I made my way to my Best Friend Lily’s house and told her everything. Since Lily lives with Alex, he obviously heard everything that happened and absolutely reamed Logan a new asshole.
Lily and Alex were nice enough to let me stay at their place until I was able to get on my own feet again. Lily was adamant on making me stay until after the baby was at least 6 months old, so that I could comfortably move everything out without dealing with either a pregnancy bump or a newborn that would need constant attention.
-
Today was the Miami Grand Prix and I attended to cheer on my Grid family and the second Logan’s eyes fell on me, he sprinted over, his hand immediately touching my stomach
“oh my baby, how are you my love? how’s she doing for you?” Logan said coming in to try and place a soft kiss to my lips, only for me to step back “cmon babe. i’ve done everything to win you back, let me just be with you. i need to be in my daughters life” Logan said with pleading eyes.
“and you will be, just not with me in yours,” i say, removing his hands from my bump “and don’t touch my stomach without my permission, especially when it’s hot outside.”
Logan looked shocked at my comment but tried to shrug it off putting his hands right back on my stomach “my pretty girl, tell your mommy to forgive daddy, daddy didn’t mean what he said”
“Hey! She fucking said to stop touching her.” a voice yells, Logan turn to see who interrupted his time with both his love and his baby
“Listen Lando, this doesn’t concern you.” Logan scoffed attempting to put his hands right back on my stomach but Lando quickly stepped in front of me.
“It actually does concern me, seeing as you’re touching my girlfriend AFTER she told you to stop.” Lando’s voice stern, absolutely shocking Logan
“your girlfriend?” Logan looked sad, heartbroken and utterly confused
“yes, MY girlfriend,” Lando started “The woman you let slip away, the woman who might be carrying your baby but will probably see me as her dad, the woman you mistreated, the woman of my dreams and my beautiful, strong, confident girlfriend”
My hormones were absolutely not on my side because the more Lando went on, the more I started crying.
I’ve never felt this type of love with Logan, I mean yeah in the beginning of the relationship it was pure bliss, but after the first 2 months it was just like we were roommates that fucked and occasionally told the other we loved them whenever we were in private.
In public however, we seemed like the happiest ever, like there was nothing wrong in our world. That we were obsessed with each other, like the world would stop revolving if we were conjoined at the hip.
I can admit, for 2 weeks after my breakup with Logan and blurting out that I was once again with child, I couldn’t stop thinking about how cruel it would be to my daughter to not be with her father and for a second I almost went running back to Logan and begged him to forgive me for my outburst and to take me back. When I went to confide in Lando and ask him if I should go back, he told me that was the dumbest thing I could’ve done because if it is beneficial for my daughter it would be the worst years of my life knowing her dad thinks so lowly of me.
Lando was really my rock during my whole breakup and pregnancy, he encouraged me to move out of Lily and Alex’s house and into his in case something happened in the middle of the night, if I needed something and just because he overall thought I shouldn’t have to live alone while I was pregnant.
Lily thought it was weird that I moved into Lando’s place just 2 weeks after moving in with her but she made me promise to go over to hers at least once a day so she could talk to her niece.
I was quickly pulled out of my daze when I felt a small tug on my arm. It was Lando urging me into the McLaren garage after Logan started throwing a hissy fit.
“What the fuck is his problem?” Lando said with a light chuckle to ease the mood, placing his hand on the small of my back before quickly yanking it away. “Sorry, I know you just yelled at Logan for touching you without permission, and I just did the same thing. Can I touch you?” Lando asks, genuinely upset that he did the same thing I reprimanded Logan for, the only difference? I craved Lando’s touch, whereas Logan’s sent a nasty shiver down my spine.
Both my hands taking both of Lando’s. One hand I guide to the small of my back and the other I guide to my bump and I watch as Lando’s eyes widen.
This is the first time I’ve let someone other than Lily touch my belly and Lando was determined to take in this moment. The look of excitement evident on his face as he feels her kick.
“OH MY GOSH, DID YOU FEEL THAT? I mean- obviously you felt that, she’s inside of you but SHE KICKED Y/N/N, SHE KICKED!” Lando screamed in excitement, almost like a kid in a candy shop.
The look of adoration and love on Lando’s face made my heart almost burst. I drowned out all the excited squeals from Lando as I pulled him in for a kiss, smiling into it.
“You’re so cute when you’re excited,” I start saying before seeing the engineers ushering Lando to his car "Okay lover boy, give me a kiss and go to your car" I said pulling him right back into a quick kiss.
"Can I give baby a kiss too?" Lando asks with pleading eyes
"LANDO, GET A MOVE ON MATE! RACE STARTS IN 5" Oscar yells from the inside of his car before putting his helmet on
I chuckled before giving Lando a nod watching him as he quickly leans down and presses a firm kiss on the top of my belly before dedicating the race to my unborn daughter.
Dedicating a race to someone is a big task, if you end with a bad position or DNF it makes everything awkward but I have faith that Lando will end up on the podium.
-
We’re now down to the last 10 laps and the gap from Lando in first and Max in second just keeps getting bigger and bigger. The anxiety I’m feeling right now is worse than when I was waiting for my pregnancy test results.
The amount of laps only decreased and with every lap down, the gap grew. Once we were down to the last lap and the gap from Lando to Max was at a whopping 7.7 seconds everyone knew that Lando had secured his first win, he just needed to not fuck up and crash.
Once the checkered flag came into view, tears welled up in my eyes. Not only had Lando secured his first Formula 1 win but he had prior dedicated this race to my babygirl.
As the team ran to the pit lane, Zak came to view and offered me his arm which I gladly took as we made our way to where Lando would soon be.
"Lando's lucky to have you by his side, I know he dedicated his race to the little one," Zak starts. I can tell Zak wants to add more but he doesn't want to overstep a boundary, but with a nod of approval from me, he continues. "How do you feel about this whole Lando-Logan situation?"
"What do you mean?" I cock an eyebrow at him
"I mean with Logan being your daughters biological father but Lando being more of a full-time dad than Logan'll be?" a confused look falls over my features as I think over Zak's question. "I mean no disrespect Y/N, just curious."
"No, no I mean. We wouldn't be in this situation if Logan hadn't acted the way he did, so if he doesn't see his daughter as often as he wants that's his problem." I said nonchalantly shrugging. "But no more Logan talk. Lando actually finished the race and finished first, I think we should all celebrate." I say as I unlock my arm from Zak's as I watch Lando get put down from the crowd of McLaren engineers as he makes his way to me, wrapping an arm around me pulling me into a big sweaty hug.
"Oh my gosh Lando, I love you but you smell incredibly sweaty and it's gonna make me throw up." I say half joking as I gag, not even noticing the slip up. Not at least until I see Lando smile impossibly harder, " what?"
"You said you love me" I didn't even have a chance to process that I did in fact say that I loved him because Lando pulled me into a hot and steamy kiss, one that for sure would also make the news in a few minutes.
"I mean I didn't think that I'd be able to love, especially not after Logan. You changed that for me, but my god, please get on the podium and shower. I'm going to throw up." I say with love, adoration, proudness and sickness in my voice all at once.
"I love you so much more. You and baby" Lando says before pressing another quick kiss to my lips before being dragged to the cool down room
-
After the podium celebration and a shower Lando makes his way to me, pressing a tender kiss to my lips before asking me "All of the grid some team principals are going to this one bar, it's karaoke night. I really want to go but if you're not feeling up to it, we can just stay in at the hotel."
"Baby, you just scored your first win. Of course we can go." I say as I put my hand on his cheek before moving it to his hair, running my finger though it.
-
When we got to the bar we automatically spot the rest of the grid. I mean how could we not, they took up half the bar space?
"Baby, you can go grab a seat, I'm gonna grab us drinks, and before you say anything. Yes, I'm getting you a f/d." Lando said pressing a kiss to my temple.
"You know me so well. I'm gonna go say hi to everyone." I said as I squeezed Lando's hand before making my way to the group of drivers, WAGS, and team principals.
The second I was spotted by the WAGS they all made a beeline towards me peppering me with questions and asking if they could touch my tummy, all of which I gave permission to. I look at the rest of the table, waving at all of them and they all wave back knowing it might be a minute before they get a proper 'hello' because of all the attention my daughter is getting. I had made brief eye contact with Logan offering a tight-lipped smile before feeling a tap on my shoulder.
"Here you go, pretty girl" Lando says as he offers me my f/d which I gladly accept before looking back at Logan, only to find that his spot is empty. I don't give it much thought before I indulge myself in a conversation with the rest of the WAGS as Lando goes and has individual conversations about his win.
"Ladies and gentleman can I have your attention?" some lady says into the mic "the karaoke machine is now on and we already have our first request!" the bar erupts in claps and whoops as we all wonder who the first singer would be
"Singing 'Too Good to Say Goodbye' by Bruno Mars, put your hands together for Logan Sargeant"
My face fell as the song starts
"I've made mistakes, I could have treated you better. I let you get away. There goes my happily ever after." Logan starts, staring into my soul
"Tell me why, why can't we try and start again? This can't be how our story ends. You're more than my girl, you're my best friend. Tell me you remember when, ooh, I was your man and you were my girl It was you and me against the world" tears start welling in my eyes as he continues singing.
A firm hand on my shoulder pulls me out of my thoughts and I turn to see that its Zak
"Don't you love Bruno Mars, why aren't you singing?" I stare at him, the tears on my waterline threatening to fall. I don't answer him though, I just turn my body back to the man on the stage.
"Baby, ain't nobody gonna love me like the way you do. And you ain't never gonna find a love like mine. Tell me what can I do to make it up to you? 'Cause what we got's too good to say goodbye, goodbye." The whole grid is staring at Logan in shock. They all know what he did and he has the nerve to sing this song to me on stage?
"Yeah, I'm still in love with you darlin'. I know you feel the same Oh, what's the point of both of us being broken hearted? I pray it's never too late" Me? Still in love with you? In your dreams Sargeant
"Girl won't you listen? It's you that I'm missin' . Take my hand, I wanna go, I wanna go. If we're gonna fight this fight for better days. I know we're gonna make it. This is the chance, let's take it." From another person's perspective, this would seem like a nice grand gesture to win back the woman of his dreams. I mean who wouldn't want their man to sing a song about wanting a second chance after he royally screwed up?
"Baby, ain't nobody gonna love me like the way you do. And you ain't never gonna find a love like mine. Tell me what can I do to make it up to you? 'Cause what we got's too good to say goodbye goodbye Baby, ain't nobody gonna love me like the way you do. And you ain't never gonna find a love like mine. Tell me what can I do to make it up to you? 'Cause what we got's too good to say goodbye, goodbye" The songs ends and half the bar erupts on claps and whistles as Logan stares in my eyes before talking into the mic.
"Y/N, baby, I know I screwed up. I'm trying to make this work. For you and our babygirl, just please give me a chance. I don't ask for much, really. Just a chance to undo my wrongs, a chance to make you the happiest woman on earth, a chance to rebuild our family. I want a chance to be in my daughter's life" Logan said sniffling as he wiped his nose before continuing "I really hope you liked this and it's enough to change your mind." Logan finished as he hopped off the stage making his way to me
Lando's protective side started to show a bit because the second he picked up that Logan was making his way to me he instinctively stepped in front of me, only backing up when I rested my hand on his bicep.
"Why? Why would you assume that I'll get back with you after that Logan?" I ask, my eyes raking his face for any type of clues. I don't know what I was expecting to come out of his mouth, but the reply he gave me wasn't it. It also not only made my blood boil, but everyone who knew about the situation's blood boil.
"Zak said you would"
I HOPE YOU LIKED THIS ONEEEEEE <3333
Lemme know if I should keep going!!!
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tieronecrush · 6 months
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so much wine
joel miller x reader
summary: christmas is difficult for joel, with and without you.
rating: M
wc: 2.8k
warnings: no outbreak, angst MAJORLY, alcohol consumption, drunkenness, acts of mild violence (NOT towards reader or any other person, it is toward an inanimate object), joel hating christmas, grief, anger, depression, big big feelings, mention of break up, sad joel, angry joel, resentful joel, reader trying to make christmas nice, um i may be forgetting some so if you notice any big ones lmk!
a/n: ya girl is always on her angst grind. ESPECIALLY around christmas cause....issues. hope you all find the means to enjoy this lil one shot based on one of the saddest but still incredibly beautiful christmas songs. here's the link to the song! tysm to @northernbluess & @kiwisbell for beta-ing and encouraging me to post this. love you both xx
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“Tommy?”
“Hey, m’so sorry to be callin’ ya on Christmas Eve. I know…Well, I know this is probably the last thing ya wanna be hearin’ but I really need your help. It’s Joel…” The noise level on the other side increases with a gust of rowdiness, clueing you in that he must be at a bar. You press the phone tighter against your ear, listening to Tommy ramble off reasonings for your help interwoven with profuse apologies. Guilt hangs heavy inside of you, the soft music and glasses clinking in the other room a reminder of your own Christmas Eve plans. How it’s supposed to go every year. Peaceful, light, fun, full of love. Your holiday with Joel looked different. Full of love, yes, but overwhelming, stifling with grief.
“I’ll be right over, Tommy.” You can’t turn away, you can’t hang up and go back to your life tonight. Not with knowing how much pain Joel’s in.
The tree lights up as you stick the plug in the socket, your nightly task for the last month just as the sun sets. Clear, warm bulbs illuminate the otherwise dark living room, shining out to the street as a beacon of a lived-in home. Reflections of warmth bounce off of the shiny glass ornaments littered around the branches, heirlooms from your family, and some you’ve collected yourself. Combined with ones from Joel’s past. It’s not cohesive, but it’s a beautiful smattering of your lives. Pine wafts from the sappy center of the tree, filling the room with the scent of evergreen, tinged with the stuffy warmth from the central heat.
You’d decorated the tree on your own a few weeks ago. Joel helped you pick up the tree from the sale lot in the H.E.B. car park, strapping it down in the bed of his pickup. More than willing to help you get it inside, into the basin, and secure it tightly to avoid any accidents. But that’s when his assistance stopped. No humming along to the Christmas CDs you queued, no suggestions of festive movies to watch, no sneaking some Bailey’s into the mugs of decaf coffee you brewed to keep warm. Instead, he retreated up to your bedroom, shutting the door behind him and effectively shutting you out for the evening.
Tommy’s truck pulls into the driveway, dropping off Joel for the holiday after last-minute projects were tied off. Joel had mentioned grabbing a drink with Tommy, to celebrate another year gone by with their new business venture, Miller Construction. You didn’t think anything of it, wishing him a good day that morning and sending him off while you prepped dinner and baked cookies to bring over to your parent’s house tomorrow.
As you sit down on the couch, Joel fumbles at the door with his keys, finally getting them jammed in and the lock turned. He stumbles inside, tripping over his own feet despite his eyes being trained on them, grumbling to himself as he frustratingly kicks off his boots. You stand up to greet him, a warm smile on your face faltering when he looks back at you with a scowl.
“Need a drink…” he slurs, avoiding you completely in the middle of the living room, frown lit up by the tree. Joel treks to the kitchen, straight for the whiskey bottle that he takes a long pull from before filling a glass halfway. The amber liquid sloshes as he turns to look at you, holding out the crystal tumbler.
“You want some, baby? S’Christmas Eve! Everybody thinks it’s something to celebrate, right?”
It never snows in Austin, but driving down the highway with your windows down, it smells like winter. Crisp, cool air rubbing your cheeks raw, running your nose. Thin air, fresh. A medicinal feeling, like inhaling the menthols you used to smoke. It’s freezing, but you can’t bring yourself to roll up the windows, to close yourself into your car as you cruise on the open roads. Everyone’s tucked away at home, with family or friends, while you drive towards something as familiar, but much more grisly.
Christmas carols crack over the stereo, painting visions of picture-perfect holidays, the feelings of joy, love, belonging, and warmth that you’ve craved for him since you met him. Something you so desperately wanted to drip back into his life from your hand, dribbling water to a lightless soul.
The glass is empty now, bottle as hollow as Joel’s eyes look. He stands in front of the tree, studying the decorations with a freshly opened bottle of wine in his grip, one you were meant to bring to your parents tomorrow. His brows haven’t relaxed, not one stitch unsewn since he walked in the door. Mumbles of anger have rolled from his chest, never directed toward you, but aimed at the world around him. At the holiday. At the lack of presents addressed to his daughter under the tree, the missing duties of playing Santa.
You met Joel after Sarah passed. He spoke about her often, telling you all about his little girl who was funny, bright, bubbly, better than him in every way. She’s been gone for a handful of years now, the tragedy worn on Joel’s face and in his curls; aged and grayed. He was still so handsome, still held a smile for you despite the deep, open aches he feels the pains of every day.
Never having a holiday with him, you didn’t know that this is ‘just how he is’. Tommy had heeded some warnings to you, had called you in a whisper as he pulled away from the house that evening with apologies — ‘I tried to cut him off, but when I left for a minute to go to the bathroom, he’d gotten the bartender to pour him another double…I tried to take it, but he wouldn’t…’
You expected feelings these days, this month, the whole season. How could a father not miss his only child when the rest of everyone’s happiness, luck, blessings are thrown back in his face? But this…this was a different Joel. Someone angry, someone cursing his own existence. He fumbled around the living room, shoving the coffee table when he bumped into it, picking tinsel off the tree and tossing it to the ground.
At the time, it seemed like a good idea to intervene. To attempt to talk him into bed, or at least into eating something and laying down on the couch. Other issues to address in the morning when he was sober.
Now, you know that was a mistake.
“What do you want from me? What does my brother want from me? Am I just supposed to get over it so everyone can have their merry little Christmas?” His voice strings words together, his drawl thicker with inebriation. Wine splatters across the kitchen tile, Joel’s arms swinging around as he speaks with his hands.
“No one is ever asking or expecting you to get over it, Joel. We just—I don’t want you to be like…to feel like this. Sarah wouldn’t want you to—”
He doesn’t raise his voice. Joel never raises his voice. The calm chill of his voice sends a wash of anxiety over your entire body, words punching clear now despite his physical state.
“Enough. Don’t even say that 'cause you wouldn’t fucking know.”
The freezing air fills your lungs, choking out as it stifles your inhale. Strong heaves of breaths expand your lungs before they squeeze out with sharp exhales, the coughing fit morphing into sobs. Tears blur your vision, flowing over your waterline and burning hot against your cheeks. Carving trails across your face with iron branding. Find the same paths of all their predecessors, all that came before them for the very same reasons.
You manage to pull off to the side of the road to compose yourself, parking near enough to your exit. Slipping out of the driver’s seat, you open the door and tumble out, talking yourself down from hysterics. Wading through the thick emotions, the unresolved slashings of anger and frustration, the unanswered love.
Facing the midnight sky, twinkling spots stare back at you, reminding you of your size in the world. How large everything feels, how all-consuming. How it doesn’t seem to be felt all the same by the one person you want it from. Need it from.
Struck with a flash of a star falling against the black backdrop, there’s a brief moment when you think it’s Santa Claus. In his sleigh pulled by reindeer, riding around to deliver joy to families across the world. Another reminder of how small you feel. How much like a kid you feel. Unsure of where you stand in his life, uncertainty facing your future, undecided in what is the right thing to do.
The sky kaleidoscopes in your watery eyes, small shining bursts gazing back at you. And your first thought is how similar they look to Joel’s eyes that night. Sad, glossy, shimmering with anger that sat long enough to finally introduce itself as grief.
You stayed out of the way after that. Let him drink himself into a hole. Dinner is left untouched until the later evening when you wrap it all up and store it away in the fridge. Noting another bottle of wine gone from the cabinet.
Joel’s corralled upstairs with less persuasion the drunker he’s gotten, craving the comfort of your shared bed the closer he gets to passing out. He trips over his feet while you walk behind him, a hand pressing into his lower back to direct him. Hiccups shake his body. Teeth stained red. Life sucked from the day, no more chances at honoring memories, no more magic left to make something special for Joel. Nothing that can sprinkle some goodness into his life.
He’s got an iron grip on his resentment, on his rage. Understandably.
But that grip drops his hand from his happiness, from his comfort, from his remembrance. It all slips through his fingers now, grains of sand falling through the lines in his palms, the ridges of his fingerprints. What was so ingrained in him, years ago with his daughter, days ago with you, is easily forgotten as the monster of misery uses your kindhearted man as a vessel. Rendering him unrecognizable.
Taking in his sleeping form, fully clothed and half covered with a quilt. He was out as soon as his head hit the pillow, his coping catching up with him to finally receive the desired effect — feeling nothing. Turning his brain off completely, emptying him to float in a void for at least one night.
His lips parted with slow, even breaths. Brows relax, falling back to lift his eyes, despite them being closed. Delicate eyelashes lay against his cheeks, and you watch as a smattering of exhausted tears slip from the corners of his shut eyes. No more stubborn will to hold them back. The first real emotion you’ve witnessed all evening.
It’s another moment before you turn away, filling the empty glass at his bedside with water from the bathroom tap. Avoiding his soft sleeping form and your empty side of the mattress, you pack a small bag to retreat to your parent's house, a short note left for Joel in the morning inviting him over when he’s feeling up for it.
One last glance at him drives an ice pick into your heart, warm blood pooling around your feet matching the shade of red on his lips. It feels cruel, to pack up and leave for the night, but without knowing if this charade continues through the next day, you don’t quite feel like sticking around to find out.
The bar is busier than you would have thought, with a good amount of groups growing rowdy for the holiday. You imagine they are there drinking in camaraderie, in celebration. The opposite to your Joel. He’s slumped over the bar in his green flannel, hugging his broad frame that shields him from the joy raucous of the room.
Tommy stands next to him, hand on his shoulder in an attempt to draw him away from the wooden bartop, to get him away from the stool and the glass filled with amber liquid.
When the bartender greets you while you approach, Tommy turns toward you, sighing and shaking his head as he leans into his older brother to mumbling loud enough for your to overhear as you settle behind Joel’s seat, “M’sorry I had to do this, Joel, but you’ve got to get home…”
Joel grumbles, shrugging off his brother’s hand. When he’s turned to address his brother with a protest, he catches you in the periphery, reacting with a molasses-like double take. Angling in your direction from his perch on the worn leather barstool, his eyes widen in shock, and he swallows hard. The drink in his hand is left discarded on the bar top, Tommy signaling for the bartender to come by and grab it while Joel stands dumbfounded by the presence of you.
“Sweetheart…”
The name is a punch in the gut, recalling every other time it raised goosebumps in its wake while it was whispered against your skin, each time it was tacked onto a gentle tease, each time it was spoken in place of feelings he couldn’t, he wouldn’t, communicate to you.
Recovering quickly, you right yourself internally, rising tall and holding your shoulders back while tender kindness masks your anguish. A head shake draws up a watery expression despite your efforts, your smile plastering onto your expression. Joel frowns, seeing straight through the guise.
“C’mon, Joel. Let’s get you home, yeah?”
Both of you stare at the hand of yours laid on his bicep, radiating heat from the contact that starts to melt the ice that froze your feelings for him in place those months ago. Joel is the first to look away, the burn of his saucer eyes drilling into your profile.
“No. No, I don’t need to—” he argues, always a mule.
“Joel,” you interrupt, voice thickened with sentiment, “please. I wanna go home. Let’s go home.”
The statement isn’t a lie. The furthest thing from an untruth.
It’s exactly what you have been wanting to say to him for months, feeling untethered and lost. You’ve been aimlessly searching for that same solace elsewhere. In other places, in other people. Nothing could compare. Joel is home. And all you want to do is return, to feel safe and warm and welcomed at home. To feel as if there is room for you there, that you aren’t driven out by the torment that tortures Joel, and in turn, you.
That’s what gets him to agree. The promise of home, with you there with him. The same piece he’s felt missing, the second heart of his home stripped from him because of his unwillingness to let up his grip on his anger and resentment. Because of his resistance to cradle his comfort, his contentment, his love for you.
“You wanna go home?” A nod answers him, rolling his actions into motion, “Okay, okay. M’gon—gonna take you home, baby. We can…I can give you your gift.”
“Sure, honey. We can do that in the morning,” you counter, the corners of your mouth turning up for a split second when Joel agrees.
His large form falls from the stool and into his brother when he attempts to get up. It’s a dance between the three of you to get him into your car and to his place. Tommy follows, there to drag him up the stairs with you behind, a hand on Joel’s lower back. He preens into every touch from you, glancing over his shoulder to check that you’re still there. That you haven’t left again. You can’t help but notice the living room illuminated by a Christmas tree, the smell of pine filling the house and the delicate glass ornaments placed carefully around the tree. He tried this year.
You do stay. This time you’re sitting with it all, ready for the confrontation of the next day. With Tommy gone, you and Joel are left alone with each other for the first time in months. In your old bedroom of all places.
Joel sits at the edge of the bed, head hanging in shame while you kneel in front of him, tentatively laying a hand on his knee.
If this time is going to be different, you need a reason to stay. A single brick taken out of his walls, the signal of the start of a wreckage that you will happily clear so long as you can have your Joel feel like a semblance of himself again.
“You’re always gonna see the bottom of your glass, Joel. Nothing can save you from that, not even all the drink in the world. It’s all still going to be there. You have to decide to face it.”
It’s quiet for a moment, the only sounds filling the room are your slow breaths in sync with each other’s. Joel picks his head up, angling it to look down at you directly. Tears have carved channels into his face, fight leaving his eyes as he opens his mouth to speak in a rasped whisper.
“Sarah always loved Christmas...”
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ineffably-human · 10 months
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We're going to scream about Nandermo all week, but right now I need to talk about Baron Afanas. Because the Baron's arc, so to speak, always felt like a big part of the series DNA for me - and oh fuck did this episode deliver on why.
I think we can agree: in the show, vampire society is fucked up, right?
Vampires on their own have plenty to deal with that can make them crazy. They have to live by killing. They lose everyone from their old lives. They have to find new reasons to keep going on, forever, so shit can get decadent really fast.
But holy shit, what that's turned into in vampire society? Where you actively put cruelty over mercy, and violence over solving your problems? Death cults and scam artists roam free, but if someone has depression the best thing to do is ignore them. Someone can get their mind wiped or be locked up for centuries, and that's just what you do to your species.
--
So: the Baron's arrival is the first conflict of the whole show. The joke is about an ancient powerful creature of pants-shitting terror, vs three lesser vampires who just want to live their lives and not get murdered for being too lazy to conquer humanity. There's a lot of talk about how to please him: do you keep to the old ways, or pick up some new traditions? Decorate with flayed skin, or with glitter? And the Baron says: who cares, you're all soft and useless. All that matters is getting more control over this world, until people are cattle and we have no reason to hide anymore.
But later he confesses: that shit stopped mattering ages ago. He's not even real nobility, he's literally impotent, and he talks about doing horrible things because he doesn't know what else to say. He's angry and half-crazy from boredom. And admitting that, owning those feelings, means suddenly he has three new friends and a whole new world of things to enjoy.
There's the Baron the rest of the vampire world knows, but for one night we see the ancient, unknowable terror was just a guy. Maybe he's always been just some guy.
That fun puts him in a vulnerable position, and he's killed by the most unwitting vampire slayer in fiction. But Baron Afanas is changed. He sucks dirt for a year and still comes out of it with a new lightness and joy to him. He saves the Sire, another ancient terrifying monster everyone was eager to kill or send away. They adopt the hellhound. They get cozy and give advice. They make popsicle stick houses and go on walks. They live.
And that seemed like the end of the story until last night - when the Baron suddenly felt like the butt of a joke everyone knew but him. Spurred on by someone else who feels lonely and ignored, the Baron felt vulnerable. And he snapped back to how he lived for centuries.
'What the hell are you all doing, enjoying yourselves? We're supposed to be unhappy. We're supposed to live centuries of unhappiness, bringing pain to everyone in our path, and we're definitely not supposed to cheer up our friend who's sad.'
--
Nobody liked the Baron before Guillermo killed him, not even other powerful vampires we meet; they saw the Baron as a crazy far beyond their own crazy. But this is also how vampire society values you. It's how they measure Nandor's worth when they think he's dead, too: how old and powerful you are, how much you've been able to conquer and kill.
Vampire pods are both cliquish and aren't expected to last in the first place. If someone dies, you literally paint them out of your lives and forget. Everything we see discourages feelings, sincerity, or even basic companionship. The only way to earn respect is to be cruel. The more cruel you are, the more powerful you are. The more powerful you are, the more feared you are - the lonelier you are, the crazier you are. It's practically designed to create the Baron, or worse.
But new vampires don't behave that way. And the vampires we follow in the show don't behave that way - because they have each other, because they've been encouraged to have each other, often by Guillermo. (Holy shit, Nadja saying maybe she'd be fine dying, and Nandor immediately asking if she's okay? Nothing changes in this house, except everything does. They're not going to almost lose one of their own ever again.)
The vampires in the heart of vampire culture never seem happy to be like this. It doesn't have to be like this.
--
The Baron doesn't become a tyrannical monster for long. Because he never actually was one - and because he spends two evenings and a fireball to the face, watching Nandor and Nadja fight for Guillermo. Watching them plead and cling and defy, seeing Guillermo's earnest feelings in spite of his bloodline and the mistakes he's made. Seeing Nandor's perfect trust, and then his grief, the way he insists that Guillermo was never 'just' anything. The Baron can't find real fulfillment in hurting someone (because that ship sailed ages ago). He can't deride them for caring, because he's cared for a long time now.
And when the Baron admits that's who he is, when he says it out loud, he only gains more in his life. He finds new depth in the happiness he'd felt for a while now, because he's admitted and allowed himself to be happy. And now he has the children he's always wanted. Living together, the Baron and the Sire are still ancient and powerful - and they're also family, finding real joy together in a world that was ready to dispose of them.
"I suppose with the right company, it can be beautiful, this eternal existence."
--
There's an inherent selfishness to being a vampire, taking from someone else in order to live. But there doesn't have to be inherent cruelty, or lack of love.
They're all ready to admit they care. The Staten vampires have all cared for Guillermo or each other in their own ways this season. And Guillermo doesn't lack for flaws, but loving his monster family has never been one of them. (When he and Nandor work their shit out, they're gonna be insufferable.)
Now they just have to let the Guide in. Because she's absolutely starved for love, and vampires get pretty fucked up when they're on their own.
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tencrushesperday · 1 month
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dont know if you take request or what not but i would die for a 7 minutes in heaven with mrempes. whole size kink and all just being trapped in a closet with him during a house party visibly knowing all the girls want him but he chooses you.
warnings : suggestive language (i guess?)
i think im better at writing angst and sad stuff (got a lot of experience to take inspo from lol)
“You”, Matt said pointed in your direction. You hated playing this game until he had picked you. He stood up from his armchair, the girl that was perched on the arm rest almost falling down but he paid her no mind. His eyes were set on you and it set your body on fire.
You grabbed the hand he was extending you to help lift yourself up from your spot on the couch and followed him to the closet. Who knew playing 7 minutes in heaven as adults would be this fun.
You had been a regular at the Lake House since your teenage years. Your parents owned a house down the street so when the Hughes boys would throw a party during the summer or go out on the lake you would attend and bring some new girls that were in town for the summer each year. You had also met their college friends and teammates throughout the years.
However this was the first year that Matt Rempe had come. You heard that Ethan Edwards, a friend of Luke’s had brought him along. You had made a mental note the first time you saw the guy to thank Edwards because boy was he something. Tall, big, a pile of muscle that could throw you around like a rag doll. Overall, your type.
He opened the door and let you into the closet first. A gentleman too. You gave him a smirk and went in. He followed and tried closing the door behind him but he was too big. He was mumbling apologies as he tried to close it again but failing.
You grab his shirt and pressed him to your body. The door closed now.
You had to crank your neck all the way up to look at him. Was that blush on his cheeks? It seemed he had looked at you with determination earlier but maybe you have misinterpreted his gaze.
“We can just talk if you want to.” he was avoiding your gaze.
“Oh don’t go all shy on me now big boy.” you said with a chuckle. His eyes drifted to you finally. His gaze was intense. You felt so small under it. And naked. Not like you were very dressed with just your bikini top and jean shorts.
Even those felt like too much when he was looking at you that way, towering over you.
His left hand slowly traveled from the uncomfortable position on the shelf behind you to your cheek. So he just needed encouragement. How sweet. “Are you always this cocky?” Amusement laced his voice which made your lip tug upward in turn.
“I’m worse usually”
His other hand moved to your hip, his touch burning hotter than the summer sun. His fingers spread on your back and he pulled you closer to him. “Is this okay?” his voice so low, you felt it in your core. You hummed in response. “Lost your voice already baby?”
To show him you were still in control, your other arm, that wasn’t grabbing his shirt, reached up to his neck and dragged him down. Your lips hovered over his, teasing. He wanted to take it slow? Why not make it as painful as possible.
He exhaled heavily then closed the distance between you two. The kiss was heated and heavy and his tongue slipped into your mouth right away.
Might as well make the best of the 7 minutes.
Your hand reached under his shirt, his toned abs feeling hard as rock. You were holding onto his waistband and eager to get to more exploring. His own hand traveled lower from your back then he nudged your thigh to jump.
Leaving your explorations for later, you jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist. The very few times you pulled apart was to get into a better position in the small space.
The 7 minutes were coming to an end and you remembered where you were when you heard footsteps outside the door. You slid down from Matt’s grip. When your feet touched the ground, your legs were slightly wobbly from the state he had felt you in. Your head was spinning and you just knew you needed more of him.
“We are not done.” he whispered in your ear when the door opened. Your voice was failing you so you nodded.
You went back to your seat on the couch and were stealing glances to Matt until the end of the game. Once this game was done, you knew you were going to follow him into the nearest available room.
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danielcalmdown · 15 days
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Here's a few thoughts i have about Disco Elysium and it's lack of philosophical approach towards Harry's experiences. (Not to mistake it with psychology. There is plenty of that in Disco and the characters and ideologies are pulled apart in many fun ways.)
Explanation below the cut, so it's not a long-ass post.
So, Harry is very much suffering. He says "I am in pain. I have no idea how to get better, I'm about to fucking give up." What he gets as response, from his own mind and other people, is things like: "Get your shit together. You have to go through this hell. It will be awful, depressing and boring. Forget her. Stay strong, don't give up, you will eventually feel better. This is how normal people live. Do it for the (...)." This is encouragement. What it does is it keeps him on his feet and helps him move forward. But it's the only type of response he ever gets. What it doesn't do is challenge how he experiences his life in the first place. There is not a single sentence, a thought, any kind of spark in the game that would begin some sort of reform within him. He's the same sad, old Harry utill the end. The rest is accessories.
Beyond that, the gameplay is screaming at you: SEIZE THE MOMENT! There is so much work put into describing things happening around Harry. And so much fondness towards that world. But it's just there, next to him and his pain. Beautiful and worth living for, but it's not used to reveal anything that would inspire him to change. Something about humanity, the meaning of his suffering, maybe a hint about that hole in the world. Yknow, philosophical stuff. Even the miracle of the story, the phasmid, answers Harry's most existential question with "I don’t know, nobody knows." It's not there to guide him away from the vicious circle he's stuck in. It's more like a pat on the back. "Look, something incredible happened today! Life can be great sometimes." Here are a few statements meant by the game to be impactful: "Something beautiful is going to happen", "The night is always darkest before the dawn", "One day, i will return to your side", "The road to healing is going to be a long one. You will make it, some day." They sound like coping mechanism. They are motivational, hopeful, but don't speak about reality. "I'm suffering RIGHT NOW. The world and my head are still fucking broken. Heelp!" Harry cries out. "Hope for a better future. Go for a run. Focus on your job, get a hobby, take your mind off the pain." Try to be happier while remaining the same. Switch alcohol and drugs for non destructive activities to help you endure through that persisting pain. Look out of the window each morning, wait for that special thing to happen. And when it happens? The core stays unmoved. You don't even know what it is about you, where lies the first mistake. You learned nothing new about yourself.
I think all of this fits with the creators' views, which are sparsely hinted at throughout the game. "God is indifferent. This is our curse", "The world is inherently meaningless", "True love is possible in the next world, for new people, it's too late for us." Maybe that's why the game didn't allow Harry to change, because it doesn't believe there is anything out there that could help him. He's a human, therefore he has no choice but to think and suffer exactly the way he does. So yeah, that's my thoughts on it. Feel free to comment, disagree and enlighten me if you think i'm wrong. I'm always open to change my mind.
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unreliablesnake · 8 months
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I want you, but… [Ghost x reader (platonic)]
Summary: Ghost doesn’t like to see you date someone else. But when he has the chance to get what he wants, his common sense wins.
Note: We’re all sad bitches in this house (that’s me, I’m the sad bitch) so no happy ending. Ghost, I love you, but you’re an idiot. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.
Part 2
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Ghost usually isn’t the jealous type, but with you it takes very little to lose his cool. You’ve never been together, he knew he had no right to be mad at guys who flirted with you, he had no right to be angry with you for letting them, but it still happened sometimes.
One of the new doctors at base who treated your wound was really nice to you. Ghost was there, he volunteered to escort you to sick bay, making sure you didn’t collapse on the way, and when he saw the way the doc was looking at you, the kind, humorous way he was talking to you, he immediately knew what this was all about.
You didn’t seem to mind the attention, in fact you encouraged him by keeping up the playful conversation despite being in pain. Ghost took a hesitant step forward, planning to ask how you were, if he could bring you something, anything that could break the spell you were under, but he changed his mind last minute. He should keep his distance, he had no right to stand in the way.
He had been more irritated lately as he had been before. Johnny’s usual jokes simply went over his head, he didn’t even feel like being around others. You and that doctor got pretty close, pretty fast, and there was nothing he could do to stop this relationship from blooming.
Ghost picked up women for one night only, trying to forget you at least until he was fucking someone else, but all he could think about was you. Your smile, your laugh, your stupid sense of humor. He missed you, especially when you were both back home and there was no way for him to reach you.
All he could do was stalk you on social media. You barely posted photos of yourself, but when he saw a picture of you and–based on the size of the hand–a man clinking glasses at a bar probably, his heart sank. You were happy with someone else, feeling so confident about the relationship that you were ready to share it with your family and friends.
But then he checked the caption. “Sometimes ‘let’s stay friends’ isn’t an empty promise.”
He sat up in bed and reread the sentence. Did this mean you broke up? Hope filled his heart at the thought, even though he wasn’t sure how this could help him. He was your superior, the two of you getting together would cause a scandal for sure. Price wouldn’t be happy, the others might begin to believe he would play favorites with you, so everything pointed in the direction that you could never be together.
A few weeks later you were back on a mission together, and Ghost didn’t really know what to do. He was nervous around you, always carefully thinking about what to say before opening his mouth.
One evening Soap pulled out a bottle of booze from his bag, inviting the core team for a drink to relax a little. That one bottle turned into two, then three, the number growing because you were having fun together and apparently everyone brought something to drink just in case.
“So what’s with you and that doctor?” Gaz asked out of nowhere, almost causing the lieutenant to choke on his drink.
His eyes were glued to you, and your eyes traveled from one person to another until they locked with his amber ones. “It didn’t work out,” you admitted before turning to Gaz again. “Also, he’s going back to a civilian hospital. Less stress, he said. But I’m not sad or anything.”
“He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on,” Soap noted casually as he raised his glass.
Around one in the morning Price told everyone to go to sleep, saying they all needed some rest to sober up. While Price, Soap and Gaz left, you stayed behind with Ghost, your hands folded behind your back as you watched him with an anxious smile. The lieutenant didn’t really know what to say to you, so he decided to remain silent.
Even though he turned his back to you, he could still feel your gaze on him. “What is it?” he asked when he turned around to face you.
You inhaled then exhaled slowly in an attempt to calm yourself. But then you took a hesitant step towards him and said, “Are you happy that I broke up with him?”
“Why would I be happy?”
“You liked the photo I posted weeks ago. You know, the one about let’s stay friends. Also, there’s another thing,” you began, but you stopped talking. Ghost raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. “Peter told me something that made me think. He said you were giving him death glares ever since he first talked to me in your presence after I got hurt on the field.”
Fuck, he had noticed. It’s not like he tried to hide it, but he sure wasn’t expecting the doctor to pay so much attention to him. What was he supposed to say? That yeah, well, I’m sorry, but he wasn’t good enough for you? In the end he let out a long sigh and put a hand on the back of his neck.
“I hope he didn’t break up with you because of that,” he noted quietly.
You raised an eyebrow at this in question. “What makes you think he was the one who broke up with me? Maybe it was me who let him go.”
“Did you?” You nodded. “Why?”
“Maybe there’s a big, scary guy I would rather spend my time with,” you replied with a playful smile.
Ghost wanted to kiss you so badly it hurt, but he kept his urges under control. When he stepped a little closer to you, you did the same, and eventually you closed the gap between you. He reached out to push a stray strand of hair behind your ear, watching as your breath caught in your throat from surprise.
After gulping loudly, you reached out to take his hand. “Was he right? Do you like me, lieutenant?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m your higher-up, it wouldn’t work anyway. Go to sleep,” he told you, even though this was killing him.
He could see the signs. He could pinpoint the exact moment your heart shattered into pieces because of his response. Biting on your lower lip to stop yourself from crying, you nodded and left him standing there, making him hate himself more than ever before.
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cameronspecial · 8 months
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Let Me Do It, Angel
Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings:  Dangerous Stunts
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 1.0K
Summary: Alpha Epsilon Pi love their dangerous antics, but Y/N is there to make sure Rafe does them safely.
Masterlist
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Rafe grew up in the Outer Banks as a Kook. He got to do crazy, dangerous and illegal stunts all the time without any consequences. Add to the fact that he was a single guy and it was sure to be a recipe for disaster. However, when he got his Angel, his frat brothers would say he became the complete opposite. It is an over-exaggeration because he still does the risky stunts. The only difference: he does it a little more safely for his girl. One example is the famous cliff jump that everyone does whenever there is a cliff near water. The boys of Alpha Epsilon Pi and their guests all arrive at the beach with the sight of the fun activity and immediately most of the dare-devils want to be a part of that. “Dude, we have to do that,” Topper points out. Rafe enthusiastically nods his head, “We totally have to. I’m going to help Angel set up and then we can head up.” He turns to see the worried look on Y/N’s face. “Rafe, I don’t think you should do that. It looks dangerous,” she frets, watching as the person who just jumped splats across the water. It looks painful. He takes her hands into his and brings them near his heart, “Come on. Please, let me do it, Angel.” 
She gives him a tilt of her head and can see how much he wants to do it. She lets out a sigh, “Fine, but only if you wear a life jacket.” Rafe is about to let out a celebratory cheer until he hears her condition. “Angel, none of the other guys are going to wear a life jacket. I don’t even think half of them own one,” he argues, not wanting to be the only one wearing one. Her expression doesn’t change, “Well, good thing you have a girlfriend who thinks ahead and who brought one. So either you wear the life jacket or you don’t go up at all.” The only person who can order Rafe Cameron around is Y/N Y/L/N. He listens to her command and sorrowfully puts on the jacket she is holding out to him. 
The group set up their area and everyone who wasn’t going to jump was already relaxing on the sand when the others made the climb up the cliff. The Alpha Epsilon Pi group is all circled around the cliff, trying to decide who is going to go first. They notice Rafe’s added accessory. Kelce laughs, “What are you wearing?” “Shut up. Angel made me wear it. You are just jealous that you don’t have someone who cares enough about you to be concerned about your safety,” Rafe snaps, bringing his hand thumbs under the jacket. This causes Kelce to stop laughing and to look sad at the truth of the situation. Tired of the looks the group is giving him, Rafe runs toward the edge and throws himself off of it. Y/N can easily spot her boyfriend falling down the cliff with his life jacket on, heading into the water to meet him halfway. His head breaks the surface of the water to see his Angel swimming over to him and a massive smile grows on his face. He speeds up, so she doesn’t have to do that much work. He brings her legs around his waist once they meet because he knows she isn’t the strongest swimmer. 
“Was it fun?” she questions, moving his wet hair away from his face. He looks at her with a sparkle in his eyes, “I did. Thank you for always wanting to keep me safe, Angel. I felt very secure when I jumped.” A sweet smile appears on her face and she brings their lips together. 
———
What do slightly tipsy fratboys do when they have two carts and an empty slopped street? Cart racing. Yet again, Y/N is there to make sure Rafe is just a little bit safer with his recklessness. “Helmets keep that amazing brain of yours safe. So I need you to wear one for me, Rafe,” she states while placing her bicycle helmet on his head. She has to loosen it a little to make it fight and then kisses him on the cheek. “Good luck. Kick Louis’ ass.” He grows cocky at her encouragement and hops into the cart. Daisy counts the boys down. As soon as she says go, they are pushed off down the hill. Rafe didn’t expect to be so fast and he quickly realizes he doesn’t have anything to stop himself. A car backs out of the driveway and he has nothing to save himself. The cart slams into the driver's side door and the motion causes him to fly backward onto the pavement. His head flings back against it, but thanks to the helmet on his head, more serious damage isn’t done. 
Y/N comes running and tells him not to move. Her phone is in her hand, so she can call an ambulance. “You have to stay still and keep the helmet on until the ambulance gets here. We want to prevent any further damage,” she informs, gently lacing her fingers with his for comfort. He knows he should listen, but he just wants to feel her touch, “Angel, I am fine. I promise.” “Rafe, I’m not kidding. Stay still until the ambulance gets here. Just to be safe.” He doesn’t want to add to her stress around the situation, so he listens. The siren gets louder as they wait and mixes in with the fratboys arguing with the driver. 
She can finally see the light of the ambulance and waves them down. The paramedics get to work on assessing the situation, letting Rafe know, from what it looks like on the scene, that he has no brain or spinal damage. “We are still going to go to the hospital to double-check. It’s a good thing that you are wearing a helmet. It probably helped prevent anything more serious,” the paramedic tells him as he gets put into the ambulance. He looks over at Y/N who is handling the driver situation, “Yeah, I have a pretty smart girlfriend.” She sees him about to get taken away and runs over to be there for him. Sure, his crazy, dangerous stunts aren’t as dangerous anymore, but he was okay with that. Because he prefers keeping himself safe for his guardian Angel. 
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