#i get that they probably wanted this to be done and over with as soon as possible and the quickest way is through gojo

[hgfictionwriter]

High Definition

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie travels a lot and if she can’t have you with her, she wants the next best thing, some high def photos and videos of you. Jessie gets carried away as she starts to build her collection.

Warning: Smut. Masturbation, strapping, rough sex, mentions of breeding (sorry folks!). And language, of course.

A/N: LOVED this request. Thank you so much to whoever submitted it. Hope you all enjoy.

“Mmm.” You moaned into your kiss with Jessie as you ran your hands through her wavy hair. She moved a leg upwards, nudging yours further apart. You obliged with a small chuckle and wrapped them around her.

Jessie tilted her head and began kissing you deeper. Her hips subconsciously rolled against you as she felt herself growing wetter as you two carried on.

“How much do you love me?” Jessie asked between kisses, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

You kissed her again and caressed her cheek. “A lot. Why?”

“Enough to try something for me?” Jessie continued as she kissed along your jawline.

“Mmm, such as what?” You asked a smile in your voice.

Jessie pulled back enough to look you in your eyes. “I want to take pictures of you. And if you’re okay with it, I’d love to record you as well.”

You paused as you processed her request. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t that. She held your gaze as she awaited your response. You were about to open your mouth when she spoke up.

“I know that’s a big ask. But, I’m away so much it would be so amazing to have that kind of thing with me. I know privacy and security is probably a huge concern - I have a whole plan for how I can make sure I am the only one who ever, ever sees it. And if you ever want me to get rid of it, I’ll delete everything - no questions asked.”

“Jess.” You said her name as you thumbed her rosy cheek. “I trust you. I know you wouldn’t be flippant or careless about this.” You took a small breath. “Sure. Okay. Let’s do it.”

Her eyes lit up and a wide smile crossed her freckled face.

“For real?”

“Yeah,” you assured her, though you felt a blush start to form. “Now hurry up before I change my mind.”

“We don’t have to if-”

You held a finger up to her lips. “It’s okay, babe. I want to. But, you have to tell me what you want. I’ve never done this before.”

Jessie beamed again and she kissed you eagerly.

“Me neither. But I’ve thought about it more than I care to admit, so, don’t worry. I’ll direct you,” she finished with a wink.

“Okay, stud,” you said with a roll of your eyes as you playfully shoved against her shoulders.

Jessie began kissing you again and soon she had lifted your shirt over your head and discarded it. She sat back on her heels momentarily before hopping off of the bed and retrieving her phone.

“This is really happening, isn’t it?” You asked, suddenly nervous and self-consciously wrapping an arm across your chest even though you still donned your bra.

“Don’t worry, you look stunning. Always,” Jessie assured you. “And honestly, if you feel uncomfortable and want to stop at any point. Just say so.”

“Okay,” you nodded. You let out a small breath. “I’m ready - what do you want?”

Jessie stood up on the bed, now towering over you phone in hand.

“Okay, put your arms behind you and lean back. Look up at me,” she instructed. You did as you were told. “Mm. You look gorgeous, baby. Okay, now tuck your legs under you - yeah, like that.” She took a couple more pictures.

“You’re a natural,” she said with a wink. “Okay, take your bra off.”

“Oh gosh,” you said though you took it off and tossed it aside. You instinctively cupped your breasts and looked up at her.

“Oh fuck,” Jessie said as she began taking more pictures. A shiver went through her as you bit your lip and pushed your breasts together. “That’s perfect.”

“Yeah? I wish they were your hands,” you told her with a smirk. She dropped down onto the bed and kissed you.

“All in good time,” she promised before sitting back. “Okay, can you lean back into the pillows this time? And, here,” she moved with you and leaned down, kissing your stomach, trailing kisses downward until she got to the waistband of your jeans. She gave your skin a short lick and she reached up to undo them until she could see your underwear. She smiled and sat back taking another photo.

“Kay.” She looked at you, studying you for a moment before continuing. “I want you to put your hand down your pants and touch yourself.”

You couldn’t help the short laugh that came from you and your cheeks began to burn.

“It’s okay, baby,” she told you soothingly. “I’ll help.” She climbed up your body and kissed you deeply as she laced your fingers together and brought your hand to your pants. She unlaced them and laid her hand on top of yours before guiding your hand under the band of your panties and exploring downward. She brought your hand to your clit and used your fingers to circle and then slip through your folds. You moaned and your head fell further back into the pillows.

“Just like that, baby,” she whispered as she pulled back and retrieved her phone once more. She chewed the inside of her lip as you spread your legs and slowly ground your hips up and down into your hand, your eyes closed. “Christ, you’re so hot,” Jessie praised as she took photos.

“Mmm, Jess,” you moaned, eyes still closed as you played with your clit and rolled your hips.

“Oh fuck, babe,” Jessie breathed, her own core pulsing with arousal now. She didn’t realize how her breathing had both quickened and deepened as she continued to photograph you.

“I need to see more of you,” she went on, lust heavy in her voice. You opened your eyes to look at her and she reached up and began shimmying your pants down your legs. “Mmm,” she voiced as she tossed them aside and leaned forward, her hands on your thighs as she kissed her way up towards your core. She could see how soaked your panties were and your scent was driving her wild.

“Mmm, Jess,” you repeated, your voice more desperate this time. You bit your lip at the growl she let out.

“I want to film you this time,” Jessie told you as sat back and held up her phone again. She didn’t hit record until she got a nod of affirmation out of you.

You dipped your fingers down through your wet folds again, tracing around your entrance before retreating back up to circle your clit.

“Jessie,” you breathed.

“Yes, baby girl,” she responded as she filmed you, her jaw slack as she watched you work.

“Do you know how wet you make me?”

Jessie grunted. “Let’s see, baby girl,” she said as she reached out with her free hand and moved your panties aside to see your slick entrance. “Fuck,” she breathed in reverence as she dipped two fingers inside, pulling a high moan out of you as your hips lifted to follow her fingers. “You’re so gorgeous.” Jessie’s jaw fell further as you pushed two fingers in alongside hers, stretching you out. “Oh my god,” she breathed.

It took concerted effort for Jessie to keep you in frame as her eyes were fixated on your core. She shook out her head and withdrew her fingers to tug at the waistband of your underwear.

“I want to see you fully,” she told you as she sat back to get your face into frame again. You gave her an impish smirk and lifted your hips off the mattress to remove your panties.

You traced your fingers through your folds once more, now totally exposed. “See what you do to me?” You asked.

Jessie groaned deep in her throat as you dipped your fingers back inside of you and withdrew them, your cum glistening on your fingers. The wet sounds that came from each movement had Jessie aching between her legs.

She continued to film you while you softly moaned as you played with your clit. It took concerted effort for Jessie to not start feeling herself up and relieve at least some of her tension.

She noticed you quickening your pace and ended the video, setting down her phone right away and walking over to her nightstand.

She grinned when you tilted your head to follow her with your gaze, but you didn’t slow or falter your movements. Your body slowly gyrated, hips rocking into your hand and head pushing into the pillows behind you as you continued to please yourself and watch her.

“Let me help you,” Jessie announced as she slipped on her harness. You gave her an appreciative look as she climbed back onto the bed and retrieved her phone once again. Your expression turned curious.

“Are you going to film this too?” You asked, your voice hitching as a jolt of pleasure went through you.

“If you’re okay with it,” Jessie answered as she reached down and overtook your fingers, rubbing your clit for you instead. You released a loud moan and you buried your head into the pillows, eyes fluttering shut as she took over. She smirked. “I need a ‘yes’, baby.”

“Yes,” you nearly gasped, your hands urgently clutching the sheets as Jessie dipped a couple of fingers inside again. You moaned once more, but eventually managed to open your eyes to look at her. “How are you going to do it?”

Jessie curled her fingers inside of you as she withdrew before pushing them back in. She bit back a smile as you writhed under her touch. “As much as I’d love to see your face, I think I’ll have the most control if I’m behind you and you’re on your hands and knees.”

You laughed through a moan and gave her an affectionate look. “Most control in more ways than one.”

Jessie’s smirk turned a bit coy for a second before she shrugged and gave you a nod. “I promise you’ll enjoy it.” She withdrew her fingers and sat back.

You returned her smirk as you rose up and turned over so you were on your knees in front of her. “You know I’ll enjoy it.” You looked over your shoulder at her. “Why don’t you set the phone up on a stand of some kind? I want footage, too, but of us, not just me.” Jessie blushed.

“That’ll be the next stage, and for another time,” she said. She knew it wasn’t fair that she was filming you and she, herself, not being on camera, but she was going to have to work her way up to that.

“Mmm,” Jessie hummed, momentarily distracted as she grabbed your ass and kneaded it with her hand. She started rocking against you, the strap rubbing your clit and sliding through your folds. “You ready?”

You dropped down onto your forearms, your back arching before her, and you shifted your hips back to meet her, grinding yourself on her strap. “I’m all yours.”

Jessie drew her bottom lip between her teeth, a wide smile tugged at her mouth. She held up her phone so her torso, the strap and you were in view.

“Okay, here we go.” She hit record.

She ran the strap up and down your slick folds a few more times, relishing the way you were sensually grinding against it.

“Look at how gorgeous you are,” Jessie said, mouth slightly agape as she took you in. She wasn’t really intending to speak during these videos, but she couldn’t help it. You brought it out of her and seeing you like this made her feel intoxicated.

“Mm, stop teasing me, babe. I want you inside,” you pleaded as your leaned your shoulders further down, your arms stretching out and palming the bed.

“Mm, fuck,” she voiced as she lined herself up at your entrance. “Anything for you, babe,”

She shifted her hips forward and watched as the strap slowly entered you. Your drawn out moan was like a siren call to her.

She laid a hand on your hip as she rest inside of you, the strap as deep as it could go. She waited a moment before slowly drawing her hips back until just the tip was stretching you out. She tilted the phone a bit to fully capture how you were stretched tight around her, your entrance gripping her as if urging her not to pull out.

“Mm. Can’t wait to show you how good you stretch for me. How full you are with me inside you,” Jessie said, her voice hoarse with lust. You let out a needy moan, turned on by her narration. Jessie’s jaw hitched as she saw you flex around her, trying to draw her back in.

“You are so sexy,” Jessie said as she sunk in again to the hilt, slightly faster this time. She reached forward and ran a hand along the curve of your back, waiting a moment before withdrawing once more.

She continued like this for several more strokes. Taking her time to appreciate the different views and angles as she pleasured you. You mewled as she patiently fucked you, clenching and releasing the covers as she painstakingly slowly helped you ascend your peak.

“You’re so wanting, baby,” Jessie teased, knowing fully well what you needed.

“Baby, please. I need more,” you whined as you pushed your hips back into her, urging her to go faster and harder.

“Hold on, Princess,” she said with a soft chuckle. “Don’t worry, I’ll have you cumming around my cock in no time.”

Jessie had really not been planning on this being part of the audio. But, hey, this is what sex was like with you two. She just had to be extremely sure this video never ever went beyond her own possession.

Jessie kneaded your ass again, grinding her teeth as she did so. She gripped you so hard your skin flashed white and then red when she released you. She wasn’t going to be able to hold back for much longer either.

She ran a hand along your side and leaned forward to cup your breast, massaging it in time with her slow strokes. She adored the way you arched your back, pushing your chest into her hand as she did so.

She pinched your nipple, drawing a gasp out of you before she leaned back once more. She watched on the screen as the strap pulled out of you, glistening with cum, before sliding back inside.

Jessie picked up her pace, and from the way your moans grew louder, you were more than ready. The sounds of her strap moving in and out of you filled the room and caused her to grow even wetter.

Your arms were outstretched in front of you, your head nearly resting on the bed and you began throwing your hips back to meet Jessie’s thrusts. The sound of your skin slapping against hers now accompanied the wet sounds of the strap penetrating you.

Lust started to really take over for Jessie now. Her pace increased even further and she was starting to lose control as she grew even more transfixed on you.

She gripped your hips with her free hand and shifted so she planted a foot next to you, now only on one knee and bringing her hips further forward. This new angle let her generate greater force and leverage each stroke and sink even deeper inside of you.

Sharp, high pitched moans fell from your lips with each renewed thrust and Jessie grunted from both exertion and arousal. You looked incredible bouncing back on her cock like this. A loud clap echoed through the room as she slapped your ass. You let out your most heady moan yet as you threw your head back.

Jessie didn’t waste her opportunity and she reached out and grabbed your hair, tugging your head back as she continue to rail you from behind.

Wild, unhinged moans rose from your throat as Jessie pulled at you and hammered herself inside of you.

“You like that, babe?” She asked through grit teeth. “You like when I make you mine like this?”

“Yes,” you managed to say, your voice breathy and high with need. “I love when you make me yours. You fill me and fuck me so good.”

“I love the way you groan for me,” Jessie grunted as she continued her relentless pace. The way you were taking her strap right now, the sounds you were making, the way you moved, everything, had Jessie teetering on the edge without you ever laying a finger on her.

“Fuck it,” she muttered as she dropped the phone onto the bed and released your hair to reach down with both hands and grab your wrists. She pulled your arms behind you and she leaned back again, pulling you with her, lifting you and suspending your upper body off the mattress as she continued to pound into you. Holding you like this anchored her to this spot and she fucked you senseless.

“You’re absolutely perfect. God, what I wouldn’t give to feel you around me. I’d never last.” She said, her voice shuddering with each movement.

“Oh god, Jess,” you moaned. “I wish you could cum inside me.”

“Fuck,” Jessie grunted, feeling a tidal wave of desire crash over her. She released your arms and wrapped her arms around your waist as she sat back on her heels, holding you now in her lap as she rut into you.

You reached down immediately to grip her forearms as you sought contact as she bounced you up and down on her cock. She reached down with one hand and began to rub your clit, drawing a cry out of you.

Jessie let out a light huff and kissed your back.

“Baby girl. You’re lucky I can’t cum inside you.”

You let out a small huff of your own, your head thrown back as you rode her.

“You act like I don’t want to be knocked up by you.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jessie said through gritted teeth as she thrust into you harder. “You’re so sexy. Imagine how good you’d look carrying my baby.”

“Oh God, Jess,” you cried louder this time, your arousal dripping far beyond the strap by now and onto Jessie. “Give it to me. Give me your baby.”

Jessie let out a guttural moan and tilted you both forward, her cradling you until you were on your stomach on the bed, her still deep inside of you.

Before you could register anything further, Jessie pushed herself off of your back, planking over you, just the tip of her strap inside of you now. The next second her hips slammed down into you and she was soon thrusting into you repeatedly with an expert roll of her hips, sending unrelenting waves of pleasure through you with every stroke.

You cried as your orgasm swept over you. You clawed at the bed, your whole body writhing as your climax went through every fibre of you, from your toes to your fingertips, to your head. Jessie didn’t miss a beat and continued to pump into you, driving you further into the mattress.

Your vision was white as you rode the waves and Jessie prolonged your orgasm. As your moans and whimpers ceased, she slowed her strokes until she simply lay on top of you, buried inside.

“I love you so much,” Jessie panted, breath hot against your ear. She shifted her weight so she wasn’t fully on top of you, but made a point to not pull out.

“I love you, too,” you breathed, unable to open your eyes yet as you tried to catch your breath.

You both lay there in silence for several seconds before Jessie suddenly jerked upwards.

“Oh shit,” she said, her head swivelling left and right as she searched the bed. When her eyes landed on her discarded phone she carefully lifted herself out and off of you before she snatched it up. “Oh fuck,” she laughed, seeing it was still recording and she quickly tapped the button again to stop.

You managed to lift your head to peer over at her curiously. Your eyebrows lifted as the realization hit you.

“Oh my god. I forgot,” you told her, a dazed smile forming on your face.

“I did for a moment, too,” Jessie laughed. She glanced at you as she held the phone tentatively in her hand. “I’m afraid to play it.”

She hit play on a random part of the video anyway and the room immediately filled with moaning, heavy breathing and other lewd sounds. She immediately went beet red and turned it off as she looked at you. You stared at each other wordlessly for a second before both dissolving into laughter.

“Okay.” Jessie eventually said, face still radiating heat. “I’m going to have to be extra sure to never ever open this video unless I have earbuds in.”

You gave her a series of exaggerated nods. “And double check what your Bluetooth is connected to.” Jessie raised her eyebrows even higher.

“That said,” she went on. “You look fucking stunning.”

[sleepyjuice]

patience is a virtue - jj maybank

Summary: you finally get on birth control, which means you and jj finally get to raw dog it, whoop

Warnings: 18+!!!!!!!! SMUT, p in v sex (reader is on birth control but theoretically both parties are tested and clean and exclusively sleeping with each other), little bit of praise kink, cream pie, fluff? soft jj <3

wc: 2771 wtf 🫣

A/N: so I decided to start writing again and then this happened lol. I’m probably rusty and this is my first time writing for jj so I hope it’s okay and y’all enjoy!!!<3

Jj had been counting down the days until your doctor's appointment. You were finally getting on birth control, the arm implant, to be specific. You had done your research, as well as an initial consultation with your doctor to go over all of your options and decided that the ‘one and done’ route would be the best for you.

You and jj had been together for a little over a year, using condoms every time you had sex. As much as you both liked the security of you not getting pregnant, you both wanted more, you both craved more. Not only that, but you had irregular and horribly painful periods and when your doctor mentioned that being on birth control could stop your periods, that was more than enough to convince you to take that step.

The day finally came, though, and jj insisted on driving you to your appointment, ignoring your assurance that it was a quick and easy procedure.

“jj, it’s not like I’m getting put under for a major surgery or something, it’ll probably be only like ten minutes. No medicine or anything.” You told him as you buckled your seatbelt. There was no changing his mind.

jj rolled his eyes as he started up the twinkie, already having made arrangements with john b over a week ago to let him borrow the van.

“I know, baby, but this is a big moment, wanna be there for you.” He said with a grin, pulling onto the road and starting towards your doctor’s office.

“Well, I appreciate it. I honestly think you’re more excited than I am.” You giggled, glancing over at your boyfriend as you pulled your hair up into a ponytail.

“Now what makes you say that?” He teased, knowing damn well he had this appointment marked in his phone calendar and his extra ass even drew a dick and a smiley face on your little desk calendar you had.

You had arrived shortly after, and just as you predicted, the whole appointment only took about ten minutes and was pretty painless. jj waited in the car for you to be done, smiling ecstatically at you once he saw you make your way out the office doors and towards the twinkie.

“How was it? Did it hurt?” He asked as soon as you got into the car, looking at your arm that was now wrapped in a bright pink bandage.

You shook your head, leaning across the seat to softly kiss your boyfriend, his hands finding your hair first before slowly trailing down your body to rub on your thighs as he deepened the kiss. You knew exactly what he was trying to do, so you pulled away with a laugh.

“Nope, nope, don’t even think about it. This thing doesn’t start working for seven days.” You told him, smiling innocently at him as you watched his face drop. You swore all the light in his eyes left his body for a second. He was so dramatic.

You were obviously disappointed too. It would have been nice to go straight home and have what would probably be the best sex of your life right away. But then you would have to go and buy a Plan B, and then this would all be for nothing.

“Now what the fuck? How are they gonna call this shit modern medicine but that shit doesn’t start working for a week?” jj scoffed, one of his hands still resting on your thigh while his other raised to softly graze your bandage, “like, they put a whole ass stick in your arm. What’s it even doing for these seven days? Just sitting in there doing nothing? They really need to make advancements to this shit.” he rambled on, but he couldn’t help but start laughing once you did.

“You are the most dramatic person I have ever met. We just gotta wait it out. Although, with all this anticipation, hopefully you can last more than a minute.” You mumbled the last part, your gaze leaving jj’s as you buckled your seatbelt, knowing he would start huffing over your comment.

And that he did, huffing as he started the car, running his fingers through his hair. “That’s — shut the fuck up. Don’t act like this won’t be torture for you, too.” He mumbled back, backing out of the parking lot and heading towards the chateau.

It had been a long week since your appointment. You and jj had never gone this long without having sex. You could have still used a condom in the meantime, but after a conversation in bed the first night, you had both decided to wait until you could do it raw for the first time. You were struggling, to say the least, but you had more composure than jj did all week.

He wasn’t making it easy though. The way he cuddled against you in bed, his hard dick pressing into your lower back made you crave the feeling of him inside of you. You almost caved multiple times every time he touched you, you just wanted more. But he respected your agreement, even though it was just as torturous for him. Touching your skin, seeing the way the bottom of your ass cheeks stuck out of the bottom of your shorts, all he wanted to do was rip your clothes off and bury himself inside of you. But he could wait, it would be worth it.

It couldn’t have been more perfect timing. Day seven had finally come around and your beautiful and wonderful friends all happened to have plans, which meant you and jj had the chateau to yourselves. It truly felt like a gift from god.

It was late morning, the soft glow of the sun peaking through the sheer blinds of the bedroom jj had made his own had woken you from your sleep. jj was still sleeping soundly next to you, his face pressed against your neck, an arm draped firmly across your waist.

“jay,” you whispered, softly rubbing circles on the back of his neck, your face being close enough to leave soft kisses in his messy blonde hair.

“mm- oh, fuck,” jj rasped, quickly gaining consciousness as he realized it was finally morning. He was so excited to sleep last night because it meant the next day would come quicker. It was like a kid on Christmas Eve. “it’s time?” He lifted his head from your neck, rolling himself over so he was on top of you, his hands holding himself up above your head on the pillow.

“It’s time,” you giggled, reaching up to cup his cheeks, “I’m done being patient. Need you inside me.” You whispered, and at that, jj leaned down, connecting your lips. He wasn’t completely rough, but he wasn’t gentle, and god did you miss this.

Your lips didn’t part from one another as his hands moved their way down your body. His fingers fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt that clad your body, yet another thing making him absolutely feral.

You disconnected to breathe, and so that he could lift your shirt above your head, discarding it on the cluttered floor. You looked up at him, now only in your panties, finding that familiar comfort that lived in those beautiful blue eyes of his.

“Fuck, missed seeing you like this, baby.” He panted, his breath hot on your skin as he lowered his mouth down to your tits, his tongue circling your sensitive nipple as you gasped, reaching up to entangle your fingers in his hair.

He soon took your whole nipple in his mouth, humming in satisfaction against the warm skin, while also lowering his body to grind his boxer clad dick against your wet center. He was achingly hard, no doubt his boxers were already stained with the precum that was eagerly leaking out of his sensitive tip.

You whimpered softly as he grazed his teeth against your nipple as he sucked sloppily, the feeling of his mouth on you making your center pulsate harder.

“jj, need you, please..” you whined, grinding your hips up against his dick, the fabric beneath the two of you was too much. You needed him.

“Okay, baby, okay,” he breathed, pulling his mouth off of your nipple with a pop, leaving the skin red and wet, “need to taste you first.” He added before scooting down further on the bed, giving himself enough room to pull his shirt over his head and discard it with yours.

He quickly repositioned himself in front of your legs, his ring clad fingers cold on your skin as he pushed your knees apart, sliding his hands up your thighs as he spread your legs. He was met with your underwear which you could feel was soaked, and you were sure it was quite the sight for him to see.

“Jesus, fuck, you’re soaked.” He hummed, palming his hands up and down your thighs until he reached the waistband of your underwear, his fingers not hesitating to pull the fabric down your legs and off of your body completely.

“There she is,” jj smiled at the sight of your pussy before him, running a finger through your wet folds, circling your entrance and sliding it back up to rub torturously slow circles against your clit. He was acting as though your pussy was his best friend who he hadn’t seen in months. Again, he was dramatic.

“Please, jay, fuck, you — you can’t torture me now, ‘s been way too long.” You whined, your eyes shutting for a moment as you clenched around nothing, his touches making your veins feel like fire. You needed something.

“M’kay, baby, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just missed this. Don’t like not having you for so long.” He finally gave in, lowering his head to finally take you in his mouth, his tongue flicking quickly against your clit as his wet lips closed around it, sucking the sensitive bud in his warm mouth.

You couldn’t hold back the moans that fell from your lips, the feeling of his mouth finally on you mixed with the soft breaths leaving his nose that was pressed against your pelvic bone was everything.

“That’s right, that’s good, yeah? Just what you needed?” He pulled back for only a moment to glance up at you as you nodded quickly in response before his middle finger teased your wet entrance. Without another word, he pushed his finger inside of you, bringing his mouth back on your clit at the same time as he began pumping his finger inside of your tight pussy, not missing the sweet gasp that left your parted lips.

He got a rhythm going as he always did, eventually adding his index finger, stretching your tight walls around his fingers as his mouth moved sloppily against your clit. It was a wet mess already, his chin and fingers completely soaked with your juices, the sound of your moans and his soft praises filled the room as he quickened his pace, bringing you closer to your high.

“I’m close, fuck me, I’m gonna come-“

It took only a few more pumps from jj, the way he curled his fingers perfectly, not missing a beat as your stomach tightened before contracting, your eyes squeezing shut as you moaned loudly, reaching forward again to grip tightly onto your boyfriends hair, pulling rather hard as your orgasm took over your body.

Your pussy clenched around his fingers as he pulled them out, bringing them up to his lips to lick them clean as he grinned lovingly at you.

“That’s good, baby, you’re so good for me,” he cooed, leaning down once again to press a sweet kiss onto your sensitive clit, making your breath hitch as you came down from your high. “You ready for me now? Been dreaming of this since I met you.” jj studied your face for any sign of hesitation, brushing a loose strand of hair that had fallen by your eyes.

“I’m ready, please, need to feel you.” You responded rather quickly, wholeheartedly enjoying the foreplay, but this is what you had been waiting for, you were ready to feel him fully.

“I got you, I got you…” he gave a quick kiss to your lips before sitting up and removing his boxers. His cock sprung free, happily unrestricted now, his tip red and swollen, precum now leaking out down his shaft.

You watched as he gave himself a few quick pumps, lubricating himself with his precum before positioning his cock in front of your pussy, gathering your wetness onto his tip before lining himself up with your entrance.

One hand held his cock as he slowly pushed himself inside of you, the other holding your bare waist. It was immediate euphoria for the both of you. You both had no idea what utter pleasure had been beneath the thin condom you had grown so accustomed to.

jj paused once he bottomed out, his eyes meeting yours as you nodded profusely for him to keep going. He needed a second, your joke about him not lasting was now fresh on his mind, but he was determined to make this last for the both of you, and he would be damned if he didn’t give you at least one more orgasm.

“Fuck me, Y/N, holy shiiitt you feel so perfect. So perfect for me. Pussy was made for me.” He groaned, taking a deep and shaky breath before he felt like he could begin moving again.

And so he did, his thick cock pushing in and out of you as you desperately reached up to grab the back of his neck, your fingernails digging into the soft skin making his little curses and moans grow louder.

Sex had never felt this good before, no barriers at all, just jj, completely jj. Watching his eyebrows furrow in pure and utter pleasure as his lips parted was sending your stomach into a frenzy and realistically you both knew that this first time going raw wouldn’t last too much longer, but that was okay.

“Love you, love you, feels so good, just— fuck, harder, please, I’m close.” You whined, your pussy clenching around jj’s cock as he quickened his pace, his hand that was holding your waist now moving down to rub at your clit, knowing that was going to do it for you.

“C’mon, baby, let go, yeah? Come for me, fuck — love you so much, so so good..” he praised, his cock hitting your sweet spot so perfectly while his fingers worked tirelessly against your clit, and that was all it took for your orgasm to hit you at full force, showing no mercy as your back arched, your fingers digging even deeper into your boyfriend’s skin. You didn’t even know what words left your mouth as you rode out your high, but you couldn’t care less.

jj’s gaze left your eyes as he looked down at the sight of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy, juices everywhere, no doubt leaving a mess on the sheets. But the sight of that alone, mixed with the euphoria of being inside of you completely raw, not to mention the way your pussy clenched repeatedly around his cock, that was it for him. He pushed in one last time, his tip hitting deep inside of you as he came, truly inside of you for the first time. Thick spurts of come shot into you as he completely lost his composure, his arms unable to hold him up any longer, collapsing against your bare chest.

“My baby, god, fuck, I love you so much, you’re… ahh, fuck.” jj moaned one last time, needing a moment to catch his breath before he could move again. What felt like forever was only a few seconds, however, and he slowly pulled his softening cock out of you, not missing the way you winced at not only the sensitivity but the loss of fullness.

Taking a breath, jj leaned over the side of the bed to grab his t-shirt, gently wiping up his mess that was now spilling out of you. He made a mental note to put a towel down next time, might save a load of laundry, and a shirt.

“You did so good, baby. I’ve never felt so good in my fucking life.” He kissed your swollen lips once he finished wiping you up, smiling tiredly at your sweet post orgasm face, cheeks pink with a small but satisfied little smile on your lips.

“Yeah, no, that was well worth the wait.”

[loliwrites]

I. Tenacity | Edelweiss

pairing: joel miller x f!reader  rating: explicit, 18+, minors dni  warnings/tags: jackson era!joel, sharpshooter!reader, age difference [joel is mid 50s, reader is early 30s], joel lives forever fight me, canon compliant violence, no infected here just terrible humans, mention of death, blood, and murder, mentions of hunger, diva cup appearance, talk of irregular menstrual cycles [trauma-induced menopause][epigenetics], DUBCON/NONCON [tagging ‘cause reader allows it but true enthusiastic consent is absent], brief SMUT, unprotected p in v sex, female reader, no physical description other than a height difference, slow burn-ish, protective!joel, no use of y/n. word count: 5.6k series masterlist a/n: my first go at writing something tlou-related. be gentle pls.

⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

The steady rhythm. You could count the number of times your hip would be shoved into the wooden table with a high degree of certainty of when it would be over. Michael never lasted too long. Somewhere between thirty-four and thirty-seven thrusts. He was never particularly rough, and though he was never chasing to make you feel good, he was at least better than George and James – both of whom would probably be lining up after Michael was done. George seemed to last forever. Some old fart who’d gained his stamina before the world came to a screeching halt. He usually landed somewhere between sixty-two and sixty-six thrusts. The bruises he left behind always lasted the longest because of the sheer amount of times he slammed your body into whatever you were up against. A table, a railing, an old pool table with torn, dirty felt. And the worst of all was James. He may not last the longest, but he had the uncanny ability of making you feel like some depraved wild animal he was trying to break. He never took his time to make sure it wouldn’t be absolutely painful like Michael did. Nor did he have a pencil dick to make it somewhat manageable like George. He took it how he wanted it – fast, unceremonious, and always left you in a mess you’d have to clean up.

Part of you wondered if this was worth it. If the wolf was only as strong as the pack, then having a pack was supremely necessary. And though, these guys… and the group they led… weren’t the people you would’ve gone with by choice. A pack was a pack. Alone, you were an easy target for almost anything and anyone. Being together afforded you safety in numbers. Relative safety in numbers. Safe enough to have stayed alive with them for the past six years. Years that you likely wouldn’t have gotten if you’d fought them tooth and nail and went off on your own. Solitude could only get you so far. No matter how proficient you were with your rifle.

The one that lay in front of you on the table. Clean, well-oiled, with a scope affixed to the top. As Michael started to moan recklessly behind you, you thought about the meals you’d forfeited in trade for the supplies needed to keep the weapon in the best of shape. Times were tough – had been tough for a couple decades now – and a gun was a gun. It didn’t need to be clean, it just had to work. But this was no ordinary gun.

Michael came inside you with a strangled grunt and pulled out a second later. That was a relatively new twist in the routine. For years the men were careful to never finish inside you… or any of the other women in the group. Food and resources were scarce enough as it was, let alone adding little mouths to feed and take care of. But a few months back, you’d confided in some of the women that your period hadn’t been coming when you expected it to. And when time had passed and neither a baby nor your period came, you came to the conclusion you were suffering from the same fate as some of the other women. A hard life compounded. Trauma induced menopause. You weren’t sure which of the women had ratted you out. But soon enough the men had become aware of your new biological situation, and they stopped the frantic pulling out as they came. Perhaps that was for the best. Who’d want to bring a child into a world like this?

“Was that alright?” Michael asked, buckling his belt back up. His back was turned toward you as he reached for his own rifle, which he’d propped up against the wall.

You glanced over at him and pulled your pants back up your legs. Over the lofted railing, you could hear George and James mumbling to each other. “Fine,”

“Did you…?”

He finally met your eyes. Anxiety-ridden. None of the other men ever asked, but you didn’t have it in you to lie to him. At some point maybe it’d sink in that he should stop partaking in the act just to fit in with the boys. “No,”

His gaze averted to the floor sheepishly and he shouldered his rifle. “Guess we should get back downstairs,”

“I’ll be down in a couple minutes,”

Now you were the one to turn your back on him. Though you hoped he’d come to his senses and start to become a better man. You knew he wouldn’t. He was initiated into the system. The one George and James, and all the other men in the settlement formed. The one that meant they brought girls along on patrols so they could get their kicks and save face with the others that they were doing their due diligence in protecting the group. And you joining the group… well you turned out to be the little guardian angel for the women in the pack. Good with a gun, able to pick off infected and humans alike from a mile out. It only seemed natural that the men going out on patrols would take you with them. For that you inadvertently protected the other women from your fate. 

Michael cleared his throat and started down the stairs from the loft. You bit the inside of your cheek to show yourself you could still feel something, and – BANG! 

Your head flicked around toward the noise. What was left of Michael was splattered against the wall leading up the stairs. You grabbed your gun and held it poised. Looked over the lofted banister and down at the room below. George had backed up into the far corner; his arms raised in non-threatening compliance. Someone must’ve been pointing a weapon at him, but you couldn’t tell from the angle. And James, well… if it didn’t warm your heart a little bit to see him being restrained in a chokehold with a handgun to his temple. The man you could see, holding James, was tall, muscular… he had black, curly, jaw-length hair. A thick mustache. He was in all denim. And it was clean, which was the thing that caught you the most off-guard.

You lifted your gun, disregarding the scope, and looked down the barrel. James may’ve been part of your pack, but you’d thought about putting a bullet in him on a daily basis for the last eight years. And while these guys might kill you afterward, at least you’d have the brief satisfaction of knowing that you’d taken one terrible human off the face of the planet.

So there was no hesitancy when you squeezed the trigger. The round flew by the denim-clad man’s head and went straight into James’. He crumpled to the floor and the man who’d been holding him looked up in your direction, though you’d backed away enough to ensure you weren’t seen.

Your pulse was pounding in your ears. Despite two thirds of your life having been in a post-Cordyceps world, the sound and reverberation of your rifle going off right by your ear didn’t keep it from ringing. An almost concussion-like haziness emphasized by the adrenaline coursing in your veins. From down below, you could just barely hear George pleading for his life. Something about how he had a woman he loved and wanted to go home to. Strange considering he had his dick in you on most days out.

The ringing in your ears started to quiet, just in time for you to hear a footstep behind you. A heavy one. Definitely belonged to a man. But not in time for you to spin around with your rifle before finding the man already pointing his rifle at you.

“Drop it,” he commanded gruffly. A deep, gravelly voice. He was sure of himself. Confident. His tattered jacket bunched up around his shoulders. He wasn’t as clean-looking as his partner currently detaining George. Graying, brown hair, a prominent scar over his nose, a scruffiness… and yet, he still looked too put together to have been living off the land for any amount of time. You should know. God knows what you looked like had you ever taken any time in front of a mirror. If the dirtiness of your hands were any indication, you were a little worse for wear. “I said, drop it,”

Your eyes flicked back up to his face and you slowly bent over and placed your rifle on the floor. No sooner than you’d completed the action, he had another order for you. Kick it here and get on your knees. So you did. Nudged your most prized possession away with your foot when another BANG! rang through the old hunting lodge. Your eyes flinched shut; the nanosecond of thought that this was it. You’re dead. But then… you still felt alive. And you squinted your eyes open to evaluate. Yep, definitely still alive. No bleeding holes coming from your body, and the man still in front of you waiting for you to comply with his last order. Which you did… awkwardly. A grimace stretched over your face when you knelt down and felt your pants sticking to your thighs; Michael’s spend dripping out of you.

The muzzle of the man’s rifle never left you, “got anything else on you?”

“Knife in my front pocket,”

“Slide it over,”

You did. Quickly. Hoping that your quickness and willingness to obey him would mean he’d let you go with your tail tucked between your legs.

“You infected?”

You glared at him, “do I look infected?”

He cocked his gun and held it up in line with your head. You trained your eyes on his index finger around the trigger. Just one twitch. That’s all it’d take.

“Joel,” both you and the man… Joel… looked away from each other, and fixed your eyes on the stairs where the second one – the one you’d disregarded in order to kill James – entered the loft. “Look at her gun,” both men looked at your rifle. “I don’t think she misses very often. If she was gonna kill us, we’d already be dead.”

He went to approach you, and this time Joel spoke up. A cautious step forward, “Tommy.”

But this Tommy… he took another couple steps in your direction and handed off his rifle to Joel when he went to stand in front of you. You kept your eyes on his face, tilting your head back to keep him in your line of vision. Even if he tried something, you weren’t sure what you’d do to stop him, but at least you’d see it coming.

“I don’t think you missed me. I don’t even think you were aiming at me,”

“I wasn’t,”

A victorious smile spread across his face and he twisted around to look back at Joel, “see.” Tommy looked back down at you and set his hands on his hips. “What’s your name?”

You flicked your eyes at Joel quickly before returning them to Tommy to answer his question.

“You’re with the other settlement?”

“I wouldn’t call them a settlement,” your eyes flicked over to Joel when he clicked his tongue on his teeth and rolled his eyes. “Nomads, at best,”

“And at worst?” Joel barked.

Your eyebrows lifted quickly in contemplation before… “a bunch’a assholes,”

Another wide grin broke out over Tommy’s face. “You got a family or a partner in that bunch of assholes?” He waited for a verbal response but you only shook your head. “We’ll take her back with us. She might be able to give us some answers about our friends we’ve been seeing on patrol.”

⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾

They made you walk while they sat easily atop their horses. Some kind of cruel twist of fate that your own gun was turned on you the whole time. Joel made sure of that. Based on the way the sun fell toward the horizon, you figured you’d all been an hour and a half walk south of their settlement. Which as you neared the large wooden gates, seemed to be more like a QZ than some random encampment. And judging by the way the two men bickered, you assumed they were brothers. Only siblings could piss each other off like that and not take it personally. How lucky, you thought, that after all this time, they still had each other.

When you did near the enormous gates, Tommy left you behind with Joel. A precarious position. His face remained stoic the entire time, muzzle of the gun pointed at you… didn’t even answer when you asked if his horse had a name. You thought about goading him into an argument for the fun of it. Maybe he named his horse Princess. Or Spike. But Tommy interrupted again, riding up with a handful of others and even a dog. It growled and snarled in your direction, and you weren’t sure why, but you glanced back up at Joel to see if his expression had changed. Maybe you wouldn’t be so scared if he didn’t look like there was something you should be nervous about.

To your surprise, he was already staring at you. Upon meeting your gaze, he nodded once and jut his chin in the direction of the dog. “S’gonna sniff you. See if you’re infected. If not, like you say, nothin’ll happen.”

“If I am?” You cocked your head back toward the snarling animal.

“It’ll probably just take your leg off or somethin’,”

“Any chance this dog fucks up?”

“Probably not,”

And it didn’t. Thankfully. Hopefully this meant they’d trust explicitly that you indeed weren’t infected. They seemed to trust their trained animal enough to let you inside their settlement. Jackson, they called it. You’d never heard of it. Never heard of any rumblings of a massive commune. And yet…. It was gorgeous. Nice buildings, string lights, stables, a bar, dining hall, and in the distance, what seemed to look like a large, sweeping neighborhood.

Tommy had joined up with a woman: Maria. They kissed and spoke fondly to each other, so you assumed they were partners. Both walked ahead of you, while Joel remained at your rear. You figured with your rifle still pointed at you. Everyone stopped what they were doing when you passed by. All staring to get a glimpse of the newcomer. Would you be joining them permanently? Would they kill you? You asked yourself the same questions.

Your feet had stopped moving but you didn’t notice until you felt the muzzle of your rifle press against your upper back. Joel jabbed the metal against your back again, growing antsier with the fact that your gaze had settled on a teenager in the distance. She was staring at you, too. A fact that seemed to make Joel even more aggravated. He mumbled his annoyance to you and you got moving again, walking up the boarded steps into the dining hall. 

⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾

They treated you better than you expected. Hell, better than your group would’ve treated someone they didn’t know. They set a big glass of water in front of you with a heaping plate of vegetables, chicken, and fresh bread. The water was one of the biggest surprises. You couldn’t remember the last time you didn’t have to boil water before drinking it. Maybe when you were still with your parents. That felt like a lifetime ago.

Tommy and Maria shared glances like they weren’t sure what you were going to tell them. Considering no one else joined you, you figured these three (or a combination) held a great deal of power in the settlement. Joel, however, looked pissed that this was even happening at all. That he hadn’t just shot you on sight back at the hunting lodge. It was pretty easy to ignore him. You’d spent the better half of your time on earth ignoring men just like him. But then the questions started coming and you figured all this kindness came at a price. They wanted to know everything. So you didn’t hold back. Maybe if you were open and frank with them, they’d let you stay here. They wouldn’t make you go back to those awful people. 

Told them that you’d been with that group for the last eight years. And in those eight years, they hadn’t really expanded their numbers by any considerable amount. That they hovered somewhere between forty-four and sixty-two people -- including the three that had been killed today – and that about two thirds of them were men. You even told them about how you’d become a sort of fun novelty for the men. That they brought you along on their scouts because you were better than anyone with a rifle. Once they got their rocks off by watching you down game a mile off, they got their rocks off again, fucking you up against anything sturdy enough to withstand the weight and pressure. 

Joel looked down at his lap at that. Avoided your eyes. You took it to mean that he knew what that was like. Maybe he did the same. 

You shrugged and pushed the remnants of food around on your plate. Eight years was a long time to endure that type of treatment. You told them as much.

“You don’t have loyalty to anyone in the other group?” Maria asked, probing. 

“She shot one of her own guys today. Doesn’t have loyalty to anyone,”

Everyone’s heads turned to Joel. He’d since leaned back in his chair, almost nonchalantly. The gun that had been pointed at you now lay on the opposite end of the table. You thought you saw indignance in his eyes. Disdain for you and the plight he perceived you to be on. Scorched earth. Loyal to no one but yourself. Maybe that was true. Maybe you’d evolved to become highly selective in where to lay your loyalty.

“He wasn’t my guy,” you spat in Joel’s direction. It might as well have been just the two of you in the room. “He was the guy that killed my parents. So fuck him,”

It was hard to tell what they thought of you. Tommy was the only one who smiled freely. Maria saved hers for Tommy. And Joel didn’t smile at all. There was no talk of a plan or a future. No conversation about what was to become of you. All they told you as you wandered from the main street and down one cul-de-sac road lined with houses was that they didn’t allow anyone to have weapons in town. All firearms stayed at the armory. 

That conversation ended as they stopped in front of a small one story cottage. It was dark and rickety, and for the life of you, you couldn’t fathom who you were to be put into the arms of. If the house was any indication, probably some horribly untidy mess of a man. Maybe it’d be the type of man you’d wished you’d have your gun around for. 

Maria, Tommy, and Joel led you inside that dark, rickety cottage. Unlocked the door and flicked the lights on as they entered the living room. You kept your eyes and ears alert. Your awareness might be the only upperhand you had in sensing danger here. But you heard nothing. You saw nothing. There wasn’t another soul in this house waiting to attack. It was just you and the three who’d brought you here. They didn’t offer an explanation. Joel just stood back and eyed your every move carefully while Maria handed you a little stack of clean clothes, a toothbrush and a tube toothpaste, and a small cardboard box that held something you’d never heard of before: a diva cup. 

You looked up to give her an apprehensive glance but found that she was already giving you one. It was a look you’d seen before. When you’d talked yourself into joining that other group all those years ago. It was the look the women had given you before they realized you were about to become their saving grace. She turned away from you and gave Tommy a peck on her way out; not even bothering to acknowledge Joel.

There was a part of you that admired her. For the amount of power she clearly wielded over not only these two men, but seemingly the entire commune. And the other part of you was scared of her. She reminded you of your mother. A strong, domineering type who knew how to control the men around her. You figured if the outbreak hadn’t happened and humans didn’t devolve before your very eyes, you might’ve become the same type of woman. The type who could keep her men in line with a look. The type whose men would’ve quivered at the look you’d shot them.

The front door shut behind Maria in the same moment Tommy was handing you a key. You took it in your hand and ran your thumb over the cold, smooth metal. It had been decades since you held one like it. Surely even before the outbreak, people just didn’t hand over keys to houses for nothing.

“You can stay in Jackson for a month on a little trial run–”

“Probation,” Joel interrupted.

Both you and Tommy flicked your eyes at him. While Tommy looked annoyed, you actually smiled. Somehow Joel’s bluntness was growing to be comforting.

“Jesus, Joel,”

He shrugged, “S’call it what it is. Probation to see if she’s a problem and we gotta send ‘er packin’,”

“Appreciate you both not shootin’ me,” you said, you voice sounding hoarse. You cleared your throat and shook your head absently; a small smile passing over your lips, “would’ve put a damper on my day.”

Tommy grinned though his brother looked unamused at your effort of levity. “Someone’ll come ‘round tomorrow morning around seven-thirty to bring you to the greenhouse. Teach you the workflow down there.” Then off your confused look, he smiled again, heading for the door, “if you’re gonna live in the community, you gotta help out.”

Joel turned his back on you to follow his brother, and you were quick on their heels, “what about my gun? I mean, does everyone have their own gun at the armory, or…”

“It’s a commune. We share,” Tommy said over his shoulder as he tugged the front door back open. He and Joel stepped through the threshold, but your voice stopped them.

“It’s just that… I’d rather not be here and have my gun, than be here and have someone else usin’ it. I appreciate what you’re doin’, and your helping me out, but… to me, staying in Jackson isn’t worth havin’ someone else use my weapon,”

“It’ll be safe,”

Tommy’s voice rang clear and sure, trying to reassure you of something. What, you weren’t certain. But he continued on his way, and only once he stepped off the small porch, did you realize that Joel had momentarily kept himself frozen in place. By your front door, staring you down. You started to shrink back beneath his gaze, unable to discern what it was trying to convey to you. Anger. Resentment. Disappointment. The door nearly concealed you entirely before Joel got his bearings again and descended the porch steps and jogged to keep pace with Tommy again.

⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾

The whole thing was weird. All of it. Jackson was an anomaly and the more you tried to make yourself at home, the weirder it got. The house they’d just given you was definitely a pre-outbreak build. It was obvious. Some of the other houses on the block looked new. You imagined they’d smell new. Not your cottage. Scuffed up wood floors. Cracks in the paint and drywall. Even the wood-burning stove. And when you looked out the front window, out at the street, you saw children. Walking by themselves. Joking around. Not nearly on edge or high alert. In fact, you dared to say that they looked like they were having fun. 

You’d only been ten when the world came crashing down around you. Fun ripped out from right under your feet. The homestead you’d grown up on – climbing trees, playing hide and seek, shooting down Coke cans – once a safe place to be a kid, had quickly become something to be defended. As you found out many moons later, to the death.

At ten, there wasn’t anything to rebuild in the new world. You hadn’t had any worldly possessions to hang onto. When money became obsolete, it didn’t matter because you’d never had any. Perhaps in a bank somewhere, stuffed away in a savings account that no longer held any weight. Nor did you need the money to get by in life these days. You’d heard tales of the QZ’s from people who’d come from them. Escaped from them. They had a new type of currency. Not the kind you used to have. The green paper money with a bunch of old dudes on the front. The kind your family burned sometime in the winter of 2006 when the first freeze took over and you were sure you’d never get back to the old normal.

And that was what made Jackson the weirdest. It was the closest to ‘old normal’ you’d seen in over two decades. A whole town. Village. Commune, they’d called it. A formal education had stopped young, so the only awareness of anything commune related came from a book your father had about the Bolshevik’s October Revolution. And if you were being honest, it didn’t sound too good. But on top of that, how were you supposed to rebuild now? Maria had been kind enough to give you a few things, but there wasn’t wood for the wood-burning stove. And the electricity might’ve been working, but there wasn’t any food in the fridge. No sides of deer cut up and stored in a chest freezer. How were you supposed to get that in a commune? Did they have money? Did they barter? And either way, you had no money to give and nothing to barter. So how exactly were you supposed to get on in life?

Face up, staring at the ceiling, you laid in bed willing yourself to go to sleep. You’d gone to bed hungry before. More times than you could count. But usually those nights were accompanied by a dirt floor, extreme cold, the threat of being hunted. A million other things to keep your mind off of the fact that your stomach was growling. There wasn’t any of that in Jackson. Everything was quiet, almost eerily so. You were warm. And even though the mattress wasn’t the comfiest of things, it sure as hell beat the floor. With all these little luxuries, it was hard to ignore the hunger.

But even if you had been asleep, you’re sure you would’ve been woken by the footsteps on your old, rickety porch. None of the wood planks laid exactly right. All creaking with age and rot. Much like the world, you thought. Plus you couldn’t remember a night’s sleep that wasn’t disturbed by panic or anxiety, or just plain fear. Probably hadn’t had a peaceful night like that since before the outbreak. Now that creaking on your porch made you jump up and scurry into the corner of your bedroom. Into the shadows. Praying you’d had your rifle. Cursing the idea that you’d stay here without it. 

The creaking came and went in a steady procession. Four footsteps. A pause. Another four footsteps. On and on for a few minutes. Long enough for you to have gained your courage again. Long enough for you to have crawled to the front room and peek through the window. Long enough for you to see Joel Miller ambling back and forth on the porch, stacking pieces of wood, conveniently chopped to fit the size of your wood burning stove. What a stark difference from the Joel Miller who’d been pointing a gun at your head this morning. You went to the door and unlatched it, slowly pulling it open so as to not startle him. He came to an abrupt stop. An armful of wood. Staring at you.

He blinked a couple times in quick procession, gaining the wherewithal to move again. “M’sorry if I woke ya’,”

You shook your head, “I don’t sleep much.”

Joel nodded and set the armful of wood on top of the rest. He wiped his hands on the back of his jeans, almost sheepishly. “Winter comes up on us pretty quick here. Insulation in this place is for the birds. Figured you’d need some wood for the stove.”

“Oh,”

“I cleaned out the flue a couple months back so you shouldn’t smoke yourself out,”

Lips pursed together, you pondered the stack of wood nestled up against the cottage. “I don’t think I’m gonna stay. Doesn’t seem like this is the right place for me,”

Joel didn’t have a response for you, just looked down at his feet and kicked at a nonexistent something on the porch.

“That gun–my gun. My dad gave it to me in 2003. September 26th,”

Joel’s eyes flicked back to yours. Pain riddled in his gaze as if he remembered that date all too well. And when it vanished, the coldness you’d first noticed in the hunting cabin returned.

“It’s all I have left. And as ridiculous as it sounds to be so attached to a rifle, I am. And I–”

“It doesn’t sound ridiculous,” he interrupted. Just when you thought he’d continue on and show a little more softness, kindness… he kept speaking, “Look, I don’t care if you stay or go. Don’t need stragglers hangin’ ‘round. So I’d love to give you your gun back and dump ya’ out past the gate. But Tommy’s always been a little stupid. Takes chances on people,”

“What an idiot,” you smirked.

A smile flashed over Joel’s face. It was gone in a second. And he turned away from you, descending the porch steps. “He’ll bring you to the greenhouse. Teach’ya how things operate, and…” he took a deep breath. Something almost like fondness erupted in his tone, “you might not wanna stay, but don’t fuck things up there for the rest of us. We got families here. And we’ll need the resources to get through the winter.”

“You think I’d fuck things up on purpose?”

Joel looked over his shoulder and nodded, “yeah. ‘Cause I’ve been in your spot before and I did.”

He continued on and you stayed put on your porch, watching him until he was out of sight. Wondering where the house he was given was. If he was alone, or if he had some sort of partner living with him. But also figured you’d never get the chance to know. 

⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾

“We get most of our roughage and root vegetables in the colder months. There’s a constant harvest to keep up with the community’s needs, but some of these aren’t hearty enough to withstand the winter. Even inside the greenhouse,”

You nodded dutifully behind Wendy. At least you think that was the name Tommy mumbled as he was being dragged out of the greenhouse by Joel. Something about being late for patrol and not wanting to spend all day on some godforsaken cliffside. She’d just got done showing you the strawberry vines. The lifeless things that she assured you would spring to life when the warmer weather came back.

The work was easy enough. Boring. Nothing you hadn’t already done on your family’s land as a teenager. Only this was on a much smaller scale. Maybe most of these people had come from QZs. And maybe before that they came from big cities. Places where they never knew where their food came from. That it just somehow appeared in their groceries. Yet, by current standards… of canned things from yesteryear, the greenhouse was a bit of a spectacle. Something beautiful.

Wendy continued on her well-practiced lecture about potatoes as you got lost roaming the rows of plants. Up and down each long, leafed path. Fingers gliding over them, not taking the time to stop and acknowledge any plant in particular. Until, in the absence of your thought, your fingers brushed over something woolly. Pulling your hand back, you focused in. There, just beyond your fingertips, a tray of small white flowers. The petals, less like blossoms, but more like leaves. And woolly. Fuzzy. Unlike anything you’d ever seen.

“What’re these?” Eyes still locked onto your discovery, you hadn’t fully comprehended that you’d interrupted Wendy’s spiel.

And yet when she came upon you, there was no ill will or annoyance from her. Just her gentle hand on your shoulder. “It’s edelweiss,” she smiled and shrugged her shoulders when her answer had you giving her a questioning glance. “It’s usually up in the Alps. In the middle of nowhere. Jesse came back from patrol one day ‘bout a year ago with a handful of these plucked up from the root. No idea how they ended up in Wyoming.” Wendy brushed her fingers over the fuzzy leaves.

“How’d you know what they were?”

“Call it coincidence or divine intervention, my grandfather had an oil painting of them above his fireplace in the eighties. When he was stationed in Germany during the war, he’d heard all these stories about this little star-shaped flower. Soldiers would climb high up into the mountains to find them. They grow in the harshest places, sometimes even right on rocks. The journey to get them was hard. A lot of guys didn’t finish the trip, but if they did, they got to pin one of these to their uniforms. A symbol of true bravery,”

You admired the flowers again. Now even a smile crossed your face.

Wendy let out an exasperated sigh, “and I figured, hell… if they can survive on the top of the Alps and in this nightmare of an apocalypse, Jesse finding ‘em wasn’t no mistake. Maybe we’re lucky here in Jackson.”

[nan0ka]

𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐇♡𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄. ⁰¹

summary. he's like a living legend. but he still has only eyes for you. crazy, right?

content. highschool au, fluff, slowburn, childhood friends to lovers, umemiya may seem ooc, little angst.

wordcount.

❨📁❩ ← previous. ❨🗂️❩ → masterlist. ❨📁❩ → next.

　TIREDLY you yawned as you stared at the two lonesome figures infront of the gate, silently wondering what they're talking about while you waited for a certain swept-back white-haired boy. Now you were pretty damn curious, but you have an Idea about the main theme of their conversation. You watched as he turned his back to her and started to walk up to you. Only to be stopped by a little yell from the persistent girl.

Your head went up to the someone who stood infront of your table as you were seated on your chair. You slowly stopped doodling all over your notebook while waiting for the girl to speak up her issue. No way in hell would she want to voluntarily talk to you. Because you recognized her as one of your classmate you don't have much contact with. So why is she standing there silently?

"Is there something I can help you with?" you spoke up first, impatiently waiting for her to say anything.

"O-Oh. [lastname]-san. I heard you are a good friend of Umemiya-san, so I wanted to ask you if you can... introduce me to him." her gaze was everywhere but on you.

But you couldn't blame her. You literally drilled two holes in her head with your [e/c]-colored eyes. And after hearing her reason to approach you, you deadpanned at the mention of his name before sighing out tired. This isn't the first time someone approached you to ask about that white-haired guy. Even people you never saw in your entire life reached out to you to meet him or to get a glance at him.

Was he some kind of legend or what?

If you answer no then she'd probably keep pestering you to meet him, you know with only one look. Another sigh left your lips as you stared at the clock. "Yeah sure." you muttered, watching how her eyes lit up and how she began to wear a bright smile. Just when you thought you were done with school and thought you can stay longer to doodle in your notebook, this girl came into the picture and ruined your plans.

Maybe if you've stayed a bit longer to do your own things, he would've gone home by himself. But as soon as you looked out the window, you grimaced slightly. "Ah. I thought wrong again." you turned away and packed up your things. Damn yourself for thinking like a naiv child. And damn him for not leaving you alone. "What did I ever do wrong to deserve this. Luck is never on my side..."

“—Umemiya-san, please let me thank you.”

The white-haired boy let out a melodic chuckle as he waves his hands around. He looked at the girl who was bowing down for saving her from some creeps last time. "Oh no. I did something natural as a Bofurin member. No need to thank me for it, really!" he smiled at her. The sun was shining down, but it pretty looked much like the rays of sunlight were only meant for him.

She stood up straight again to look at him again. The grip around her schoolbag was getting tighter. "No! I don't know how I'd end up if it wasn't for you. I really want to thank you somehow. Uhm— I heard you like the Café Potos. Maybe I can invite you to a meal?" she offered with her rosy cheeks. The man infront of her was really handsome. And it was hard for her to not blush around him.

"Please don't waste your money on me." he still wore the smile, his eyes softened. "Well then."

With that he turned his back to her. But she immediately got panic as she reached out for him. "Wait please!" she yelled, making him stop as he turned around again. "M-May I get your contact info?" she asked timmidly, holding up her cute decorated phone. "I... really wanna stay in contact, you know?.." she added, looking away to avoid meeting his eyes. The hot feeling in her stomach made her feel like exploding anytime.

"I'm sorry." Umemiya got the hint and apologized with slight frown. "There's a woman I already like."

"Oh." she froze on her spot, the hot feeling of embarrassment grew as she lowered her gaze.

"I've liked her for a long time. I don't think I'll fall out of love..." he explained, rubbing his neck. "I'm really sorry."

Blue eyes landed on his own hand. On top of his palm is a pressed withered flower, now a part of his necklace. The flower which was once a rose with a beautiful light-pink color. A memory of a bewitching, beautiful lady flashed in his mind. Shining [h/c] hair. Glittering [e/c] eyes. A graceful girl watering her pretty plants in the garden. But no flower can match her beauty at all. He'll never forget that.

With that being said, he turned around again and slowly made his way to you. His frown immediately was replaced with the happiest smile as he quickly ran towards you with open arms, attempting to let you feel his warmth and wrap his arms around your body. "Gross." you furrowed your eyebrows and dodged. "You dare to keep me waiting and now you want to hug me? Yeah, no way."

"Awh! [name]-chan, don't be like that!" he smiles at you brightly. "You're so mean!"

"Yeah of course. I just have something against you." you shrugged your shoulders and began to walk away.

"[name]-chan, don't leave me! I need to show you my cute little plants!"

The left behind girl stared at the boy who, just seconds ago, seemed like an independent man follow you with his phone in his hands while you calmly walked down the sidewalk, not really interested in whatever he was showing you. You, the girl who despises violence hanging up with the leader of Bofurin? You, the girl who always stood in the background. What kind of joke is this.

She noticed. You're the woman he talked about.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

  "You know. One day if your girlfriend sees how you keep clinging onto me, she wouldn't be happy about that." you sighed for the nth time this day.

"What am I hearing? Are you worried about my future girlfriend not liking you?" he tilted his head to the side.

"No, i'm just saying so you'll stop sticking  against me." you said without taking a glance at him. "Aren't you worried about your love life?"

"Nah, i'm in love with the most beautiful woman on earth."

As soon as he said that, you pulled out your phone and began tipping before stopping to show him your phone. "It is said that Bella Hadid is the most beautiful woman in the world." you showed your search results. He froze and stared at you while sweatdropping. "I don't think you're in your crush's league." you sighed. "Please give her up, yeah? Crush on someone else, Umemiya."

"Please..." he smiled at you again and gave you his hand. "Call me by my first name. And give me the answer. Taking my hand is yes, rejecting means no."

You eyed his calloused, rough hand. It's a bit dirty. Was it the soil from gardening? Or was it dirt from fighting? You don't really like to touch dirty things. At all. You were a bit of a germophobe when it came to touching things. So you hesitated. But in the end you lifted your hand and placed it on top of his, while your gaze laid on your now interwined hands. His hand was warm compared to your cold one.

"Hajime." his given name rolled out your tongue smoothly.

The excitment was visible on his face, as he bit his quivering lip. The smile grew to the biggest and brightest one. "Yeah?" he lifted his eyes from your hands and to look at your rather stoic face. The warm sun engulfed your both figures into it's depth, while the wind was blowing gently, letting your hair dance with it's rhythms. Perfectly in harmony with the shining. The silence was bearable, comfortable even.

"Is there anyone else who gets to call you by your first name?" you asked quietly.

"No. Nobody does. They call me by my nickname »Ume« or »Ume-chan«. Why?"

"Just wanted to make sure that I'm the first one." you answered before turning away. "I'm pretty special, aren't I?"

"Yeah, of course you are." only you can let him feel the same fuzzy feeling, of course you're special.

"Sometimes I wonder how you can keep up with this. Me." you're pointing at yourself, at your stoic personality as you kept walking further, him following after you.

"Don't know. You're special." he still smiles happily. He always smiles. But that's fine. You can always look at him, and he would look at you with the same warmth. He is much more special. More than you'll ever be.

"[name]." he called out your name.

"Hmm?"

"Do you like yourself?"

"Most of the time."

"Then you don't need to worry about my girlfriend not liking you."

"What? I think she'll hate me for touching your hand first."

"Uh huh. Sure."

At this reply, you furrowed your eyebrows slightly and your eyes went to him. He was still looking at you while following every step. "What are you even talking about, stupid?" you sighed. "Sometimes you're talking bullshit." and weirdly enough, you like to listen to his rant about—he can rant about anything and you'll listen, even though you don't understand. You avoided his stare.

While his eyes never left you, not even for a second.

- NAN0KA [ may 30th, 2024 ]

[qveerthe0ry]

Conquer the Heart

Summary: Joel comes out - written for @romanarose Pride Event Week 1: Coming Out Word Count: 3,981 Pairing: Joel Miller x M! Reader Rating: Mature (but my blog is 18+ mdni) Warnings: vague descriptions of sex, fluff, kissing, conversations about sexuality, really that's it this is pretty much just sweet and fluffy with a tiny hint of spice Betas: @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar who could have guessed? Love y'all <3 A/N: I just wanted to make Joel queer idk. Title from an Orville Peck song because of course

You don’t know what possessed you to pay the $5 cover to check that place out. The Round-Up Saloon, perched on a street corner in downtown Austin. The outside was unassuming enough, but the neon lights and mechanical bull and rotating dance floor inside made it look like something straight out of Urban Cowboy. 

There were all kinds of crowds. College kids and business casuals and actual cowboys. And it’s Austin, so all the sexualities were represented in one way or another as you took note of the couples at tables and on the dance floor. You couldn’t really care about any of them, though, as soon as you laid eyes on him. 

You were drawn to him and his broad shoulders and tight Wrangler blue jeans. 

He was with a big group of women and men, all drinking and laughing and taking turns line-dancing with each other on the dance floor. 

And to think you only stumbled into the honky tonk cowboy bar out of curiosity… It certainly wasn’t your scene. 

But you’d watched Joel dance with a few women with respectful hand placement, and then he danced with a man, and hope had bubbled up inside of you to the sound of Alan Jackson. 

He was a little sweaty when you worked up the courage to talk to him, and his cologne masked all the alcohol and cigarettes in the air.

You plastered on a flirty smile and asked him if he could teach you some of his moves. When he looked taken aback and flustered, you backtracked. 

“I’m sorry, I saw you dancing with that guy— I didn’t mean to assume.” 

“Tommy? That’s my brother,” he’d explained, a little flushed in the face. 

“Oh! Shit, sorry, ignore me.”

But he’d caught your arm as you turned to hibernate for approximately 5-10 business days. 

“I don’t see no harm in teachin’ you.”

And so he did. And it was fun, and his hands on you were so warm you swear they branded his mark all over your skin. 

A few songs, all background noise to the ‘he’s just straight, don’t do this’ mantra in your head, and he was leading you off the dance floor for another beer. 

A friendly beer. Surely that’s all it was. 

But he was so friendly. He gave you pointers on how to dance, and then asked if you’re from around here, and then he was waving off his group of friends when they all announced their departure. 

He asked you about your job, and you asked about his, and then the way his hands felt rough on the skin of your arm made more sense. 

Maybe you were crazy, or the two beers you had were really getting to your head, but there was something so unspeakably electric between you. You felt it when he’d lean in closer to hear you, the way he touched your arm with the back of his bottle-filled fist, the way his hoppy breath ghosted across your cheek to reach your ear.

And then he said he should probably get home, and asked if he should walk you to your car, and maybe he wasn’t straight, you thought, as he briefly placed his hand on your back to guide you through the packed bar. 

And you really, really shouldn’t have. But you asked for his number, and he put it in your shitty flip phone, and then you kissed him. 

Right on the mouth. A quick peck that was so short you could’ve nearly pretended it was an accident. 

He looked so stunned, and guilt boiled up in your stomach. 

But he’d grabbed your wrist gently, and looked you in the eyes. 

“I’m uh… I don’t… I haven’t ever done that.” 

“That was your first kiss?” 

It was a joke, and thank god he laughed. His smile looked so fucking good under the shitty, flickering street lamps. 

“Call me, okay?” 

And then he was gone. You thought about him the whole drive home, while you got undressed and ready for bed, as you fell asleep. You felt his touch in your dreams, and when you woke in the morning you could hardly believe he was real. 

But his phone number was burning a hole in your cell phone. You stared at it on and off all Saturday long. What would you even say? Why did he even want you to call him, if he’d never even kissed a guy before? Did he just want a new drinking buddy? 

The dread built up all day long, until it was late, and a sense of now or never goaded you into calling his number. 

He answered, and you told him who you were, and he’d sounded so surprised to hear from you. He didn’t think you’d want to see him again, after he embarrassed himself, and his admission made you balk. 

You told him you were the one who felt embarrassed. He laughed at that. Said he’s a lot smoother with ladies, but you made him feel nervous. He said he wanted to meet up again. 

And so you did. 

Just a shitty diner for an early dinner on Sunday, unassuming enough. The chemistry you felt at the bar hadn’t faded. If anything, it was so much more apparent now. The way he blushed when you flirted seemed less like the bad kind of gay panic. His foot kept nudging yours under the table. 

He walked you to your car again, and then he kissed you, much less chaste than the night at the bar, with one big, rough hand on your neck and the other on your hip. 

“That was pretty good for only your second kiss,” you’d said. 

He shrugged, a sheepish smile gracing his heated face.

“Should stick around and find out about the third.” 

And if you hadn’t already been wrapped around his finger, he certainly secured the spot for you then.

He wasn’t new to dating, but he was new to this, and it showed. He got pretty easily flustered around you. On your second date, he brought up his daughter for the first time like he’d forgotten he hadn’t mentioned her before. A casual thing, talking about her getting ready to graduate high school. 

“Does Sarah know… who you’re on a date with?”

Joel shook his head. 

“Not yet. No one does… Not even sure how to explain it to myself, if I’m honest.”

You were patient with him. It’s gotta be culture shock, living nearly 40 years of your life completely straight and having some random guy at a bar change that for you overnight. 

You took things slow. You talked a lot over the phone, after Sarah went to sleep. He told you about his dating history, Sarah’s mom and only a few unserious flings after. You tried not to psychoanalyze him, but it makes a little bit of sense. Getting some girl pregnant at 19, marrying her, getting ditched with a toddler and a curt ‘good luck’ and then raising her on your own? 

No wonder he never questioned his sexuality. There was genuinely no time to. 

At first, you thought you may just be a stepping stone. A news flash for him, an experiment, something fun for a season. It didn’t bother you. It’s happened before. But as your nightly talks got longer, and as you took each other out more and more often, it became clear that it wasn’t like that. 

You watched with fascination and adoration as Joel figured things out. It was so endearing when he asked if he should hold the door open for you, or if you should take turns. Likewise, when he held your hand in public for the first time, the way he asked your permission made your heart grow way too big for your rib cage.

Things weren’t perfect, of course, but nothing ever is. You didn’t get to see him as much as you ideally would. You were both busy during the work week, and he often had father duties on the weekends. Most of your dates were quick dinner bites when Sarah had a school thing, or an odd Saturday here or there when Sarah had a sleepover. 

But that was quite enough for you. You weren’t even looking for something when you’d met him. You didn’t feel the need to move quickly when you hadn’t planned on going anywhere in the first place. 

And he was sweet, and quite self-aware. 

“Wish we could spend more time together,” he’d tell you over the phone, “I know this ain’t the way things normally go.” 

But you liked him. So much. So it didn’t bother you.

And, as the weeks passed by, he opened up more. He started asking you more pointed questions, like how you came out to those closest to, and what it was like. He asked if you were seeing other people— it’s okay if you are, was just wonderin’— and then he asked you if you wanted to be together when you made it clear you weren’t. 

“Like… as boyfriend and boyfriend?” 

He chuckled, the deep gravel a familiar tone swimming through your landline with a nervous twinge to it. 

“Yeah, as boyfriend and boyfriend.” 

And he treated you right, and you got along with him so well, and he was so put together and responsible and respectful. 

“I’d really like to be your boyfriend.” 

And his breath had hitched so loud it was caught by the receiver, but you could hear the smile in his voice when he told you that he’d really like that, too. 

A few days after that, he told you Sarah would be gone all weekend, on a team trip for some hiking and kayaking and bonding. 

“Could I stay at yours? I hate to invite myself, it’s just— Tommy’s got no boundaries. Wouldn’t want him bargin’ in, y’know, before I get to tell him.” 

You didn’t mind one bit, aside from the mountain of laundry you had to fold in preparation for his arrival. 

It was the first time you’d been truly alone with him. Your dates were always public, at least somewhat. And he’d kissed you, a ton, but that’s as far as it had ever gone. 

You definitely wanted him. You’d wanted him since the very second you laid eyes on him at that cheesy honky tonk bar. But it was funny how nervous you were, even though your experience with men put Joel’s to shame. 

It was a lot like high school, in the way you danced around each other at first. A movie on your couch, with his arm draped along the back of it. Readjusting to ‘get comfy,’ inching, until the warmth of his body was pressed against yours and his arm dropped from the back of the couch to your shoulders. 

His heartbeat was deafening, hard and fast, when you’d tucked your head against his chest. You moved your hand to his knee in the world’s most intense match of The Nervous Game and feared for his cardiovascular health. 

He said your name, and like it was the magic word, every single facade crumbled around you in an instant. 

His kisses made your head spin, and the way his thick thighs felt under your own was addictive, and it was over before either of you realized it had started. Two sets of soiled pants and underwear thrown into your washing machine, along with the last of the pretenses. And then you’d dragged him to your bed. 

The sex wasn’t even your favorite part. The best was the morning after, and how you were plastered to his back as you woke up slow and easy. The way he held your arm to his stomach, even in his sleep. And the way you only got out of bed for food or bathroom breaks, a whole day with him, alone, uninterrupted. 

Just as you started to worry that this was a one-time thing, at least for a while, Joel huffed beside you and nuzzled his head into your shoulder. 

“I wanna come out. At least to Tommy ‘n Sarah. S’not right, keeping you a secret like this when you’ve been makin’ me so happy. I know you’d make them happy too.” 

You stroked his hair, and asked if he was sure, and though his pretty brown eyes looked wide and scared, his jaw was set with a determined nod. 

So you devised a plan. Or— Joel devised it, and asked for your input, and it all made you a bit giddy. 

He had you over for dinner. Just as a friend, at first. He’d ordered pizza and stocked beer and told Tommy and Sarah he was having a friend over. 

You wondered if Tommy would recognize you from the bar, but if he did, he didn’t show it. He just talked your ear off about Texas sports and old cars.

Sarah was… well, you understood why Joel could never seem to smile wide enough when he talked about her. She was so smart, and kind-hearted, and funny. You had a hard time keeping up, but the way Joel and Tommy were around her, you think she probably has that effect on most people. 

It was a nice night, fun and easy conversation, good pizza, and a very competitive game of Boggle in which Sarah dominated. 

And it was only a little bit difficult to spend the evening as just Joel’s friend, solely because of how easily you fit into his life. You wanted to scream it from the rooftops, that Joel wanted you to be a piece in his puzzle. 

Sarah, so politely, excused herself to go to bed as it got later. The three of you left shuffled around, gathering game pieces and paper plates and empty cans, until you all eventually met back in the kitchen. Joel gave you a look, and you gave him a comforting smile right back, and it was like the room’s air was replaced with water as he spoke up.

“Tommy?”

“Mmhmm?” 

The younger brother whipped around to face you both, sliding the leftovers into the fridge with a slice in his mouth. 

“I uh… I wanted to let you know that I’m— that we’re, uh… Together?”

You watched as his dark eyes glazed over for a second, brow scrunched up in confusion. And then his gaze flickered from you to him, and back to you, and his eyes grew as big as saucers. 

“No kiddin’?”

Joel laughed. 

“Serious. He’s my… He’s my boyfriend.” 

Tommy swallowed his mouthful of pizza, wiped his mustache, and smiled. A genuine smile, sweet and warm, reaching his eyes. 

“Hermano, good for you. That’s— I’m happy for you.” 

He opened his arms and tugged Joel into a hug, and Joel grumbled something about Tommy getting pizza grease on his clothes, but he was smiling wide and relieved over Tommy’s shoulder. 

But then Joel’s face got serious again as Tommy pulled away with a manly slap to his shoulder. 

“Sarah doesn’t know yet. I wanted to make sure everyone got along first, y’know?” 

And then Tommy was looking at you and rolling his eyes and chuckling. 

“Think we all get along just fine. You should tell her soon.”

And Joel knew Tommy was right, but it didn’t stop him from looking so anxious when Tommy left with another round of goodbye hugs. 

“What are you most worried about?” 

You asked him because you knew there were many things to fret over, in his situation. 

“Just that… She’s had this idea of me this whole time, y’know? What if she sees me different, and then things change between us?” 

And god, that made your throat feel thick, and Joel’s eyes got a little misty, so you pulled him tight against you and let him sag into your hold.

“I know the feeling,” you told him, “but I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

“No?”

You huffed a laugh and tangled your fingers in the curls at the back of his neck. 

“You mean everything to her. I can tell just by how she looks at you. Never seen a teenager like their dad that much.” 

And he laughed too, a little wet against your shoulder. 

“Will you be there with me when I tell her? I don’t— I don’t think I can do it alone.”

Your lips found his bristly cheek and planted a kiss there, and you mumbled of course into the salty skin.

So you went home, with plans to come back the next day. This wasn’t easy for you, either, dating a guy with a kid for the first time. You knew she liked you, at least, but that was a face value assessment. Would she mind you taking up more of her dad’s time? Would she mind you in their space every so often? Would she mind if you came around to her soccer games or science fairs or graduation, as her dad’s boyfriend, in front of all the other kids with nuclear families? Would she resent you for shaking up what they had?

You didn’t get much sleep, thinking about it. You wondered if you should bring her some kind of gift, flowers or a trinket or something, but then you’d be trying too hard, right? 

As you got ready the next morning, you thought about all the ways it could go wrong, but none of them really seemed realistic. Sarah was sweet, and intelligent, and surely if she did have reservations, they’d be able to talk them through civilly. 

Right?

You couldn’t even listen to music on your way to their house. It was a silent fifteen minute drive with your nerves boiling over and spilling out, thinking of how awkward things could get. 

But all of that kind of fell to the wayside when Sarah answered the door and said “I haven’t seen you in forever” with a cheeky grin and those bright eyes she definitely got from Joel. 

It felt cozy when you sat down at their kitchen table while they sipped their coffee and orange juice and Sarah told you both all about the English project she was working on. It put you at ease to ask her questions about things you have in common, and for all of you to mesh so well into a normal conversation.

But as it lulled, you noticed Joel getting restless, and you noticed Sarah noticing his uneasiness. 

“Dad, you’re acting weird in front of our company.” 

And while she was alway kind and respectful, she was still a teenager with a dorky dad. 

“Well… I wanted to talk to you about somethin’.”

She looked at him with her head tilted and her eyebrow raised. 

“Now?”

She nodded her head toward you as she asked, and you couldn’t blame her for being confused as to why he had to have a heart-to-heart with his ‘friend’ visiting. 

“Yeah um… You know how you’re always tellin’ me I should get a life and start datin’?”

Sarah laughed and looked at you.

“Yeah, could you be his wingman? It’s getting sad.” 

And you laughed, and Joel laughed, but it was a little forced, and Sarah’s smart, so you could read the confusion on her face. 

“What’s this about, dad?”

Joel took a big, deep breath and took Sarah’s hand on the table. You watched her squeeze his fingers as her face twisted up in worry. 

“He’s my— we’re dating. He’s my… boyfriend.” 

The worry dissipated, and her eyes got wide and her lips pursed before her jaw slowly dropped with surprise. 

“You guys are together?” 

She looked over to you, then, and all you could do was give her a soft smile and nod. 

“I know you might have some questions—”

“How long? When did you guys meet?” 

She looked back to Joel to answer, but you could see he was still reeling, with sweat saturating the curls at his temples. 

“Just a couple months ago, he taught me how to dance to the Boot Scootin’ Boogie.”

She made a noise, like a scoff, and it made you wince.

“Months!? Dad, why didn’t you tell me?” 

You watched Joel’s eyes cloud with— fear? You’d never seen him look so scared. 

“I’m sorry, babygirl. I just— I guess I didn’t know how. At first.” 

His voice trembled, and you watched Sarah’s lip quiver before she shot out of her chair and lunged toward her dad, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. 

“I love you,” she’d mumbled, like she knew it was what he needed to hear, because his shoulders slumped and his arms wrapped around her back. 

You thought maybe you should look away. It felt real personal. But Joel had asked you to be here, and it was about you, too, as much as that fact made you want to burrow underground. 

“You could have told me sooner. I love boy talk.”

Her voice was muffled and heavy with tears, but Joel chuckled all the same through his own misty gaze. 

“I didn’t know you liked boys.” 

She pulled away but didn’t go far, letting her hands squeeze his biceps as she looked to him for an answer. 

“Me neither,” he shrugged, “I like this boy, though. A lot.” 

And he got this goofy smile on his face, even though it was a little wet, and he looked at you, and you felt so awkward but so head over heels. 

“Okay, well, you still should have told me. I would’ve been on the porch cleaning Uncle Tommy’s shotgun when he pulled up.” 

Joel groaned and covered his face but you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up out of you. 

“What are your intentions with my father?”

And though her tone was joking, her eyes grew soft as she waited for an answer. 

“I guess I just wanna make him happy. Because he makes me happy. If that’s alright with you?” 

She sat back down and rested her chin in her hand, with her lips pursed again as she thought. 

“Sarah, you can have time to think—”

“Deal.” 

She extended her hand out to you from across the table, and you took it eagerly to shake on it. But after an appropriate amount of handshake time, she didn’t let your hand go. 

“You have to come over for movie nights now.” 

“I can do that.”

“And I have to make sure your taste in movies doesn’t suck before I let you pick one.”

“That’s fair.”

“ALSO—“

“Sarah,” Joel interrupted, “this isn’t how deals work. You can’t add stuff while he’s still shaking your hand.” 

“As I was saying,” Sarah rolled her eyes, squeezing your hand tighter, “you have to treat him right. He acts all tough but he’s just a softy.”

“Oh Christ,” Joel huffed. 

“No, she has a point,” you told him with a smirk, “I promise I will, Sarah.”

Her eyes narrowed at you, but then she grinned, and finally let go of your hand. 

So yeah, you really really like Joel Miller. You’re never happier than you are when you spend the evening at his house, snuggled up on one side of him while Sarah’s snuggled up to the other, watching some movie Sarah’s usually the one to pick. 

Or when you meet him and Tommy at Sarah’s soccer game, and he greets you with a smile and lifts the bill of your Miller Contracting hat you’ve stolen to peck your lips. 

Or when you’re in your own kitchen, making his coffee, and you feel sleepy arms wrap around your waist and a sleep warm kiss at the nape of your neck. 

Really, as long as you’re with Joel, you’re the happiest you’ve ever been. And if those three little words slip out one day soon, well, there isn’t a single thing that makes you think Joel would be surprised by them.

[lululandd]

wrong;

pairing: könig x f!reader

wordcount: 2.5k+

warnings: fluff?

note: ngl i had fun making this and i hope yall get a laugh from this or something (also on AO3)

summary: 

of all the kortac members you’ve worked and hung out with, you try to avoid könig the most. the austrian man comes off as normal and even endearing at first, masking his anxiety with comedy, always being thoughtful of people's needs and personal space. but the more you hung out with him the more you realise he might actually have a woman held hostage in his house. he likes to talk about her, mostly innocuous comments about her new hobbies, but from time to time könig lets out insane comments in such a casual tone that rendered you and other kortac operators speechless.

bunny doesn't like men so when my kitchen was renovated i had to put her in the basement..

—sometimes she misbehaves so much i want to hit her but i can't so i had to leash her.

no one dares to talk about his bunny, you notice everyone skirting around the subject and never asking him directly about her even though he’s actively bringing her up in conversations. you don’t mind being around him during assignments, since he’s usually too busy saving people’s lives and covering his teammates backs to think about his ‘bunny’. but outside of combat? at the base? at karaoke or bars? you avoid him as much as possible.

until you slipped up, of course.

you were tired; unwashed, thinking only of the food in front of you and the long luxurious cold shower you’re going to have right after.

hearing the word ‘sick’ somewhere in your vincinity you immediately went into worry mode and asked follow up questions before your brain could determine who was talking.

horangi lets out a cough next to you, and only then you realise who said the word ‘sick’ and about whom.

the usually boisterous man looked so downtrodden, barely eating his dinner, moving his food around his metal tray. 

“it’s bunny..” he whined, his hood blowing forwards for a moment before settling back in place.

“i’m sorry to hear that.” you offered, curtly. you thought of the least offensive thing you could muster that wouldn’t evoke any other bunny related tidbits. “how long until your assignment’s over?”

“two months.”

“i’m sure she’ll be fine.” you assured him, “hope she feels better soon, könig.”

he rested his chin on his open palm, “she can’t take care of herself, i had a friend stay at my house to take care of her.” 

you glance at horangi, hoping he’d steer the conversation away. he halfheartedly shrugged as he dug into his food, unwilling to help. you dug your own grave, the shrug seems to imply.

“your friend is probably doing their best, you just have to trust them.”

horangi raised his brows and smirked at you. you poked him with one of the corners of your metal tray playfully when you two were done eating. laughing as he bumps your hip with his, saying something in korean before answering, “you have to learn to evade the bunny topic yourself. you did good.”

perhaps this is the nicest, or the only thing anyone has ever dared to say about his captive, because he turned up at your shared bunk that night. stiletto immediately fiddled with her butterfly knife when she saw who was at the door.

“may i talk to you?” his gaze jumped from your eyes to something behind you before looking at you again quickly and looking away again.

stiletto snarked at him from her bed, “you can talk over there with the door open.”

thankful for her caution, you see könig doesn’t seem too bothered by it.

“i’m worried about bunny.” he lowered his voice, bending a little so his head was closer to yours.

“oi! three feet apart!” you hear her yell alongside the soft clitter-clatter of her butterfly knife.

könig straightened up immediately, it’s so funny seeing him obey stiletto without question even though he’s her senior in age and rank.

“your friend is with bunny, no?” you tried reassuring him.

“ja.” he squares up to his full height, making you step back to even be able to look at his face. “she is taking care of bunny but she is no doctor.”

“neither am i.” you shrugged, turning to look at stiletto for reassurance. 

to your relief she grumbled at the colonel, “get to the point, könig.”

the austrian threw a look at your bunkmate before looking back down at you.“i want you to go see her.”

your heart gave a little jolt, and you’re sure your whole body did too.

what.

blinking slowly, you turn your head to give stiletto a wide-eyed stare before looking back at him. “you want me to go see… your girl?” 

his expression shifted, you could see the twinkle in his eyes hearing you’re not outright rejecting his proposal. “ja, ja, i want you to see bunny. you seem like a nice person. i want you to check up on bunny, and maybe stay with her until i come back.”

“stay?” you repeated. “at your house? where bunny is?”

nodding excitedly, he stepped forwards, “ja, exactly. i’ll pay your tickets.”

you want to look back and make faces at your roommate but out of respect you just look as confused as you could and tell him you would give him an answer tomorrow.

as soon as the door closed and könig’s footsteps can no longer be heard, stiletto hissed from her bed, “ma che cazzo, he is crazy.”

plopping down next to her, “i feel sorry, though.”

she slapped your upper arm, “his crazy is catching. what the fuck?”

“i mean, if he wants me to visit then how bad could the situation be, right?” you try to make sense of his actions. “if bad comes to worse i can always call the police.”

stiletto groaned, “the police could be in on it, idiota.”

she’s right.

but,

he’s your co-worker. if you go missing during your planned trip to austria on könig’s dime, there would definitely be an investigation, right? there’s paper trail and receipts and everything.

you voice your thoughts to your roommate and she sighs in defeat.

“your funeral, bunny number two.”

—

you arrived at könig’s little countryside (remote) house, with its dilapidated (creepy) looking roof and peeling windowsill. a gigantic rabbit greeted you in his lush front garden, happily chewing on a celery stalk and hopping away from the iron gate as you approached.

hop? that thing looks like it could gallop. there must be something in the water here that makes everything grow so large. how far is chernobyl from this place, again?

staring at his front door an embarrassingly long time, you took a quick and deep breath before knocking. his front door felt so foreboding you instinctively step back right after.

the woman greeting you with a smile looks a little bit older than you, with a charming smile that would definitely make you feel safe if you’ve never heard of the way könig talks about his girlfriend.

“hi, im here to see……” your eyes dart around your peripherals to make sure there’s no one that could ambush you, “..bunny?”

she gestured at the rabbit in the patch of sunlight behind you.

the world as you know it crumbled before your eyes. the sun shone brighter, the dilapidated windows look fine, and did you call his cabin creepy earlier? you meant cosy.

you blinked slowly. “that’s.. bunny?” you reiterated, turning halfway back at the rabbit while pointing at it.

“ja, bunny is rabbit in english? yes?” she sounded a little impatient, “are you a vet? she is all better now.” its clear from her tone and the hard stare she gave you that she’s offended of könig’s distrust in her ability to take care of his pet rabbit.

putting your hand up, “no, i’m his friend.” you stared back at the rabbit again for a little longer, making sure its actually a rabbit and not a woman in a realistic rabbit suit. you’ve seen the $15000 collie suit that went viral a few years back, “so…. könig’s girlfriend doesn't live here?”

crossing her arms, it was her turn to blink slowly. “girlfriend? i’ve only seen him bring men home.”

as much as you wanted to laugh out loud at the second big misunderstanding this poor man has in his life, it makes complete sense why she would think that way. “i see.” was all you could muster.

“come in, then.” she offered.

taking note of where the basement is as she points at things while giving you a tour, you opened the door to be immediately greeted by a well lit space, with a little rabbit enclosure at the back, a waist high fence separating the space from the rest of the basement. it had one of those hamster wheels although a much larger size, a pet bed, and neat stack of hay just outside the fence gate. you took careful steps further down in the basement, and you do see a little clasp and a leash hanging off the wall by the pet bed.

the first thing you after your brain process the whole information is run back outside and update the group chat.

stiletto had to personally call you fifteen minutes later because you weren’t active in the group chat. 

könig came home to bunny sitting on what looked like a little trampoline with an umbrella on top of it, munching on some hay with pieces of flowers and fruits strewn about. seeing him, bunny hopped off her little perch. his little fluff of happiness is coming with her ears all perked up to flop on her side by his feet. here are little bows on both her ears and as he crouched down könig could feel all his stress melt away from the sight. picking bunny up, he walked in to find your bags packed and ready by the front door, your socks neatly placed inside each of your shoes.

bunny wiggled as könig roamed his house to look for you, presumably wanting to go back to her feast of hay and flowers and fruits that you set up for her. but when he opened the front door and set her down, she instead hopped further into the home, towards the basement door.

“there’s no man around for you to fear, häschen.” he coos, before looking at the direction bunny is heading.

first thing he saw was you had gathered more hay; könig notes its the expensive one he only gets when he receives his yearly bonus, the old pet bed looks cleaned, and there’s a new even bigger one by the wheel. he spots you in the corner fastening the leash hook.

“you want beer?” he offered in lieu of a greeting. you could hear the smile in his voice.

bunny punched the gate, signalling that she wants to go in the enclosure to possibly use the wheel or be with you. he unlatched the gate and watched with fascination as she hopped over to you, standing on her hind legs to see what you’re doing.

“oh hey könig, i’m just about done.” you pointed at the little sand pit next to the stairs, “careful of the sand pit.”

you heard him shuffle around behind you. the man is lazy and drags his feet when he’s not in combat. “you built this for bunny?” he sounded surprised, the sound of sand being played with grabbed your attention so you opted to stop fiddling with the hook and come see what he’s doing. 

bunny followed you as you walked towards him, “yeah, we pitched in for a lot of the stuff. there’s a card upstairs.” 

the tall man was grabbing some sand visibly stiffened at your reply. könig turned his head slowly towards you, “we?” the casualness dropped off his posture at that moment. “card?”

hearing the scepticism in his voice, you nodded and pointed at the door to usher him upstairs.

he stayed, looks down at the sand as if it was the most interesting thing in the world for him. bunny filled the long pause with her little clucks and chatters as you absentmindedly pet her. “i thought you guys didn’t like bunny..” he said weakly, returning to playing with the sand, slower this time.

oh no.

looking at it from his perspective, you saw how shitty you all must’ve looked. he had mentioned how sick his pet was and no one asked a single question nor seemed to care.

at this point bunny has sensed his distress and made her way towards him to cuddle. she’s really good at that, sensing peoples moods and coming over to offer comfort.

you think you will just rip the bandage off, or maybe at this point it’s more like giving him a surprise brazilian wax. “könig we thought bunny was your girlfriend. and you chain her up in the basement and everything.”

“WAS? WAS MEINST DU???” he turned your head to you so fast you could see little beads of sweat coming off his hair.

you think he’s yelling WHAT DO YOU MEAN??? so you continued on, swallowing thickly. “none of us were ever sure if you were talking about an animal or a person and we just…. yeah…” the look of horror in könig’s eyes was reflected in his overall disposition which prompted bunny to snuggle into his chest deeper. “i’m sorry könig…”

as you can see his world unravelling before him, you decided this would be the perfect time to leave him and his little rabbit alone.

a text in the big group chat popped up later that night.

[deoidesign]

Wait wait wait, I saw in your tags that's Time and Time Again is ending soon? But I've only just found it! (through the animation you did, it and your comic are so well done)

Ah, yeah.

So by "soon" I really mean "sooner than I think I would like" and it feels much sooner to me as the writer than I think it will to you all as the readers.

But, Time and Time Again is pretty much exactly 2/3 of the way through right now. Webtoon gave me the end date before I even finished my first season, and I've been trying to fit in all the things I wanted to get into the story before it ends...

It's why my hiatus has been taking so long, I'm trying to write to get as many moments and as much development as I possibly can, with really limited time! And... also admittedly to prolong how much longer it's sort of "around" in my life.

Because I know once it is over, I'll move on to the next comic! and 3 years just doesn't feel long enough to have Adam and Steve in my life haha

But, yeah. it's getting "close" in a way that it's starting to make me sad. like this time next year it'll probably be over.

It's okay of course, it's the nature of stories that they will end. I'm working really hard to make it satisfying despite Everything, and I'm really proud of everything I've done so far.

And my next comic will be even better for what I've learned here!

So, sorry to everyone, but I promise I'm gonna make it worth it.

[girlietips]

Academic stress and how to deal with it🎧📖📑🤍

School can be extremely stressful at times especially because it can feel like you are drowning in work so I’m gonna give all my tips for easing the stress and being more productive.

Make a spreadsheet of all of your upcoming due dates and tests.

This might seem overwhelming at first but what you are going to do is estimate how long each task will take you and add up that time. Then you will be able to see how much study time you need per day to get everything done.

I also recommend setting a timer for that amount of time and trying to finish the assignment before the timer. Though it will take some practice to be able to correctly estimate how long everything will take you.

Use the 3 minute rule.

If you find yourself procrastinating on something tell yourself you only need to work for 3 mins. By the time the 3 mins are up you’ll usually want to keep going because starting was the issue.

Remember if you begin to get overalls stressed it is good to do different breathing exercises and techniques to calm yourself down.

Always study for tests as soon as you know about them.

This way you aren’t trying to cram a semester’s worth of information into your brain over night. I like to create flash cards for each lesson as it is taught then reviewing them whenever I have a free second.

The best way to eliminate stress is to be fully prepared.

Make sure you are sleeping a full 8 hours a night.

Always write down any due dates or test dates.

Create schedules so you always get things done on time.

Everyday make sure you have 3 accomplishable tasks.

These tasks allow you to feel like you are making progress and make sure you don’t over work yourself.

Break down assignments into manageable sections.

You probably can’t write that whole research paper in a day(or just shouldn’t) so break it down into research, outline, writing, editing or as much as you want.

Now instead of thinking of this giant project you only have the one task.

Do not compare your work to others the only person you have to beat is your past scores so don’t worry about others.

Those are all my academic tips. Stress comes about when we aren’t prepared so make sure that you are prepared for your classes and you’ll have nothing to worry about.

[the-starry-seas]

Wolffe bothering Fox

"Hey!" a clone voice bellows loudly. Presumably at some idiot shiny, so Fox ignores it. Until it's followed by, "I said hey! Pup!"

Fox's hand twitches around Bail's, and from the raised eyebrow on Breha's face, his eye is twitching, too. He lets go of their hands and turns, knowing he's not going to get out of this any time soon.

"Good afternoon, Wolffe," he says stiffly.

"Don't give me that, di'kut'ika." There's a hand ruffling his hair, pulling all the curls out of place, and Fox scowls and shoves both of Wolffe's shoulders.

Wolffe is completely unfazed, and comes back to put an arm around Fox's shoulders, leaning entirely too much weight on him.

"Ah, don't treat your favourite big brother like that."

"You're not my favourite anything," he insists, but he doesn't shove Wolffe off this time. Just because he's not shoving off Wolffe's arm doesn't mean anything. It's no use when Wolffe will come right back. Or at least that's what he's telling himself.

"Care to introduce us, darling?" Bail asks, biting his lip to keep from laughing.

"This is my older brother, Commander Wolffe," Fox says. "He's not my favourite, he's just annoying."

"You're still letting him hug you," Breha points out.

Fox pauses for a moment.

"That's none of my business."

Wolffe snorts a laugh and knocks their heads together sideways, hard enough that Fox's teeth rattle for a moment.

"He likes me, he just doesn't know how to use his words. You ever try to get this guy to talk about his feelings? That's how I got this scar."

His finger traces down his cheek, and Fox rolls his eyes. He was deployed half a galaxy away at the time, thank you very much. But Wolffe never passes up a chance to try to frame a brother with some ludicrous story. Contradicting him won't do anything. And, mostly, Fox wants to avoid Wolffe knuckling his hair. It always sticks out in a bunch of weird ways, after.

"Are you here for a reason, Wolffe?"

"Came to make sure your natborns were treating you all right. You've gotta be the only clone I know that's got the hots for two of them at the same time."

"Maybe you should get out more, then. And stop trying to pickpocket my commlink, I've had enough of you texting Thire. He's blocked me four times, I don't know how you keep undoing that."

"Do we want to know what you've been texting him?" Breha asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Keep in mind that I have a taser," Fox says immediately, glaring at Wolffe, who mercifully shuts his mouth for the first time in his life. Probably just because it's not the first time that Fox would've done it.

"Wolffe, would you like to come with us for dinner?" Bail asks.

"Bail," Fox protests immediately, staring at him in utter shock. Right now, he would honestly rather have a rancor over for dinner. At least the rancor would have table manners.

"It would be my honour, Queen and Prince Consort Organa. I've heard only the highest praise of the courtesy of your house."

Fox glares at him, knowing full well that those manners are only coming out to bother him.

"Your brothers are always so polite, Fox," Breha adds. "Why don't you ever have them over for dinner without us asking?"

No matter how much he loves her sparkling eyes and crooked smirk, he isn't going to dignify that with a response. Instead he stares up at the sky and begs for some patience. Or maybe a bird to shit right on Wolffe's face. Fox had cried laughing the last time that happened, and had been hoping for a repeat performance, ever since.

"Maybe he's worried about competition," Bail muses, hand framing his chin. "Although I can't imagine why. Fox is clearly the hot one."

"That's not true," Wolffe complains. But when he looks over at Fox, something around his eyes softens a little. "But I can let it go, just this once."

"You shut up," Fox grumbles, folding his arms over his chest, his blush deepening when Bail grins at him.

"We'll leave you two to catch up," Breha says. She steps forward just enough to squeeze Fox's hand in both of hers, smiling at him, and then reaches out to take Bail's hand. She leans on his shoulder as they walk, and his laugh carries back to them.

"You really are besotted with those two," Wolffe says.

"That's not a word I expected you to use."

"Looked up some new vocab on the holonet, on the flight. Wanted to make sure I had enough to tease my infatuated baby brother."

"You're so kind," Fox grunts, elbowing him hard in the side and stepping away, "but I am not your baby brother."

"That's true. The shinies are younger than both of us."

Fox can only sigh as he turns away, but he stops when Wolffe's hand wraps around his wrist. He expects some sort of retaliation, but the worried look on his brother's face makes him pause.

"Everything okay with them?" Wolffe asks, his voice quiet, like he thinks they'll overhear from all the way down the sidewalk.

"Breha and Bail?" For a moment, Fox can only blink at him, utterly confused. "Yeah, of course. Why wouldn't it be?"

"Just checking. It's not like we didn't know that the Senators were hurting all you Corries."

"Not all of us," Fox says, glancing over at where Kit is sitting on the edge of a fountain, learning how to braid a flower crown from his girlfriend. Fox had done a lot to protect his shiny, to enforce silence from the other Guardsmen, and it's all worth it, whenever he looks at his son's smile.

"Yeah, sure, not all of you. But you, Fox. Have the Organas ever tried to hurt you?"

"No, never. I can't- I can't even imagine them trying. I can't. You know what that means. Wolffe, they love me, and I'm safe here, I swear. I would never stay here with Kit if there was any chance of them hurting us."

"Ah, all right," Wolffe says, and socks him in the shoulder. "Guess you're one lucky shabuir to find the best two natborns in the system."

"Real lucky. So you better behave over dinner!"

"I looked up which forks are used when. Lots of useful stuff on the holonet."

"You exist to torment me," Fox says flatly.

"And to be a good uncle to my favourite shinies. How's the tubies, anyway?"

"Leia bit me last week."

"Ah, that's my girl. She's gonna grow up to be a spitfire, mark my words."

"If you actually behave, I'll let you hold her before you go."

"Fine, fine, you've convinced me, Pup."

"That's not my name!"

Wolffe just shrugs.

"Big brother privileges. I can call you whatever I want and get away with it."

Fox is well aware that he's going to get a lecture for dumping a screaming, swearing vod right into the biggest fountain in Aldera. It's not nearly enough to stop him.

[sissylittlefeather]

Your Love's Been a Long Time Coming: Chapter 6

A/N: I'm on a roll with this one and I have the series planned to the end, so don't be surprised if I get the rest of these out relatively quickly. I'm excited to take you on the roller coaster that is the end of this one. But I think you'll love how it ends! Just hang in there!

Need to catch up? Masterlist here.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, implied sex, alcohol use, angst

Word count: ~2.7k

Reminder: this is FICTION. Please do not come at me if your favorite people don't act the way you think they would/should. It's called fanFICTION for a reason. Thanks 😬

She fades into the background easily, watching the feud that happens between Ann Margaret and Priscilla, her love for him never diminishing, but they never finish the conversation that they started.

******

Vivian spends the next year in abject misery. She moves to California in an attempt to get away from anything that reminds her of Elvis and try to jumpstart her acting career. That doesn't cure her lovesickness though. She misses Elvis desperately, kicking herself for wasting all that time telling him no. But then she realizes that even if they were together, he probably would've left her for Ann Margaret. The few times she does see him, it's obvious that he's smitten. This is the most in love she's ever seen him and she desperately wants to be happy for him. But she just can't. She runs through several guys before realizing that she's tired of the emptiness. She takes a vow of celibacy and tries to focus on her career and her hobbies. Writing poetry helps a little, but most of it is about Elvis so she ends up crumpling it and throwing it in a trash can or a fire. Just when she runs out of money and is about to go back to her stepfather in Germany, she stumbles upon modeling and finds herself more successful at that than acting. She throws herself into it, trying to ignore her pain. All in all, there doesn't seem to be a reason to go on, but she keeps trudging along, hoping something will change eventually.

******

Elvis spends the next year in a lovestruck bubble of happiness. Ann Margaret challenges him and enlivens him and brings out the best in him. She's everything he never knew he wanted. He knows he still has Priscilla at Graceland, and at night, after Ann has fallen asleep, he feels the guilt of leaving her behind. The promise to marry her still hangs over his head.

But in the really late hours on nights that he struggles to sleep at all, he thinks about Vivian. Where is she? What is she doing? Does she ever think about him? He knows how unfair it is to even have that thought, but it's there nonetheless. A couple of times his mind even drifts to the conversation they started and didn't finish. How might things be different if they had finished it? Would he have said no to Ann if he knew he had Viv? That's a question he can't answer.

Overall, he's happy. He's having his cake and eating it too.

And then Ann Margaret does an interview where she tells the reporter that she and Elvis have plans to get married. He knows this isn't possible, no matter how much he loves her. He has an agreement with Priscilla's family to marry her. And beyond that, he's not even sure that Ann would be the best choice for his wife. At the end of the day, she's too much like Vivian, too independent and headstrong. Too focused on her own career. That doesn't mean he wants to end things with Ann Margaret necessarily, but Priscilla doesn't give him an option. She wants the contract honored, and soon.

So Elvis ends the affair with Ann Margaret shortly after his conversation with Priscilla. He knows he's done the right thing, but that doesn't mean he isn't hurt. He sinks into a deep depression, refusing to leave his house or see anyone, including Priscilla. After a week, his Memphis mafia guys start to get really concerned. They're not sure what to do to bring him out of this funk.

Finally, one of them comes up with the idea of calling Vivian. They know he hasn't seen her in months, but she's managed his low moods before with grace and strong but subtle encouragement that eventually brought him back. She's their last hope, a desperate grasping at a final straw. They call her, hoping she'll agree to come.

******

Vivian find herself on the porch of Graceland with a grocery bag in one arm, knocking loudly with her other hand. She's not quite sure what she's doing here, why she agreed to come, but here she is. Turns out her heart can't tell him no, no matter what he's put her through.

She knocks again. She's been standing out here for almost fifteen minutes and the bag is starting to get heavy. The bottles clink together as she shifts.

"Elvis! It's me!" She breaks down and hollers through the window, hoping he will hear her. Finally, she hears movement inside the dark house. After a few more minutes the door opens just a crack.

"What are you doing here, Viv?"

"The guys called me. So I'm here. With presents." She jiggles the bag in her arms and the bottles clink again.

"I don't drink, Viv."

"Yeah? What have you got to lose?" She hears him sigh deeply and then he opens the door. He's disheveled in a way she can barely comprehend. His hair is everywhere and he clearly hasn't shaved recently. He has on a robe with no shirt underneath and pajama pants.

"Oh, Elvis."

"Don't fucking say anything." She walks through the door and sets the bag down, turning to face him. Then, she cups his cheek with her hand gently.

"Does it hurt this badly?" He breaks down and grabs her tightly, weeping on her shoulder. He whispers into her hair.

"I made such a mess, Viv." She wraps him in her arms and squeezes him tightly.

"I know, honey. But it's gonna be okay." He backs off of her and wipes his nose with his sleeve like a child.

"What are you here for?" She smiles gently.

"Well, first I'm here to clean you up and help you feel like yourself. And then we're gonna drink. Because you need a little fun." He nods and takes the hand she offers him. She leads him up the stairs to the bathroom where she starts the shower. She turns and heads towards the door, but he grabs her elbow softly.

"Please stay."

"You want me to stay in here?"

"Please." She nods and sits on the lid of the toilet, turning away as he undresses and steps into the shower. He showers and then she hears the water turn off.

"Viv, honey, can you hand me a clean towel?"

"Of course!" She grabs a luxurious black towel and hands it to him. When he steps out of the shower, he has it wrapped around his waist, his hair fluffy and wet, water droplets glistening on his shoulders. Her mouth drops a little at how sexy he looks in this vulnerable state. It takes everything in her power not to rip the towel off and take him into the bedroom and...

******

"Viv?"

"Yes! What?"

"You're staring at me."

"Oh, God, I'm sorry." He smiles a little, enjoying the impact he's having on her. "You want me to blow dry your hair?"

"Yes." A relieved smile crosses his face and she seats him in the chair. As she dries it, he gives her instructions on how to do it, sounding more like himself. Next, she grabs the razor and shave soap.

"Whoa, hang on. Do you know what you're doing?" He asks, nervous.

"My stepdad broke his hand once when I was in high school. I can do this." He nods.

"Okay. I trust you." He leans his head back and she goes to work lathering up his face. She drags the razor gently over his skin, removing the hair. She's careful and meticulous and he revels in the feeling of being cared for so attentively.

Maybe she would be a good wife.

Once she finishes shaving him, he puts on a pair of fresh pajamas. Then, he tosses a pair at her.

"Get comfortable. Please."

"These are going to look ridiculous on me."

"Good." He smiles and she goes in the bathroom to change. He's thoroughly enjoying her company. He didn't realize how much he had missed her, but now she's here and his affection for her washes over him like a tidal wave. She comes out of the bathroom and sure enough, she looks silly in his giant pajamas. But something about seeing her in them makes him want to rip them off of her.

"Elvis."

"Yeah?"

"You're staring at me." He laughs for the first time in a week and gestures for her to follow him. On the way down to the tv room, he grabs the grocery bag from the foyer. It's true that he doesn't drink. But tonight? Tonight feels like a good night to break his rule.

Once they're settled on the couch in the tv room with a movie set up on the projector, he pulls the bottles out of the bag. She's got a bottle of vodka, a bottle of soda water, and a bottle of peach schnapps.

"Which one of these is for me?" He asks curiously. She laughs.

"I know you're a little bitch about alcohol, so I got you something that tastes good. The vodka is for me." He nods, smiling, and she goes to the bar, grabbing a couple of glasses. She makes them both drinks and they relax to watch the movie.

Two drinks later, Elvis is already pretty tipsy, laughing openly with his arm wrapped around her. Vivian does a couple of shots to try to catch up with him.

"Hey! I want one of those."

"No, Elvis, you really don't, baby." He snickers.

"You called me baby."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"No, I like it, honey. More pet names. Call me more pet names." She giggles, the shots finally starting to kick in.

"Baby. Honey. Sweetie. Lover boy." He laughs at the last one.

"You can't call me lover boy without being my lover, babydoll."

"Babydoll?!"

"You don't like it?" She makes another drink for each of them and Elvis throws his back quickly.

"Elvis! Slow down! I can't keep up."

"Come on, doll face, now who's being a little bitch?"

"Well, I definitely don't like little bitch." Elvis erupts in his big-joy laugh, leaning over to rest his head on her knee while he does. She finishes her drink and makes another for each of them.

"Which one do you like best, sweetheart?" He asks, swirling his drink in his glass.

"I'm not sure, babe. Which one do you like best?" She answers, taking a sip. He takes another long drink and then turns to look at her, his eyelids heavy.

"I like this, darlin'."

"The alcohol?"

"No- well, yes- but I like being here with you." All of a sudden he gets really serious. The memory of the conversation that didn't happen comes screaming back to him. He drains his glass and then sets it on the coffee table.

"What?" She looks at him inquisitively, her eyes glazed over with drunkenness.

"You 'member that conversation we were s'posed to have. 'Fore I left?" She finishes her drink and nods.

"Yeah?"

"I was just thinkin' 'bout it, that's all." His southern accent comes out so much stronger when he's been drinking and it makes Viv giggle.

"What?" He asks, a wide smile on his face.

"You just sound like a good ole country boy right now." She mimics his accent and he laughs loudly again.

"I am a good ole country boy." She's lying back against the corner of the couch, so he crawls up between her legs and she puts her hands on his cheeks.

"I know. I like it." She kisses the end of his nose. Her deep-ocean eyes look into his intensely. "I love it."

She leans in slowly, pressing her lips to his. He pulls away first, pressing his forehead into hers as he hovers above her.

"Viv." He whispers. Then he backs away, his eyes flicking between hers and then down to her pretty mouth. He leans in slowly, lips parted, capturing hers in a sensuous kiss. His tongue grazes hers so gently, as if asking for permission.

Then he dives in fully, never looking back.

******

When Elvis finally starts to wake up, he crinkles his nose and whimpers. The headache is already beginning behind his eyes and he's so thirsty he feels like he might die if he doesn't get some water soon. He feels movement on his chest and opens his eyes to a head full of dark hair. That's when he remembers: Vivian. His mind races as he tries to think through what might've happened last night. He kissed her, but that's the only thing his foggy brain can grab onto. His heart skips a beat as a thought crosses his mind and he lifts the covers a little to try to assess the situation.

They're both naked. He swallows deeply and looks up at the ceiling. Oh shit...

He feels her shift a little on his chest, her breasts pressing up against the side of his body. She groans and stretches and he knows he has to say something.

"Umm... Viv?"

"Yeah?" She groans again, obviously feeling the effects of her drinks last night.

"Are you wearing... anything?" Her eyes pop open and she sits up suddenly. When she realizes that this means he can see her chest, she lays back down quickly and starts to slink away from him under the covers.

"Oh, God. Oh no." She whines. He grabs her and pulls her back onto his chest.

"No. Don't leave."

"Elvis, I... we-"

"I know. But I don't want you to leave. Not yet." She relaxes a little against him.

"Do you remember anything?" He tries to force his mind to focus on last night. All he sees are flashes, him running his hand up her leg, the sounds she made when she climaxed, one moment of looking into her eyes while she was on top of him, his hand on her cheek.

"Just flashes. You?"

"No, just flashes for me too."

"I remember it being really good, though." She whispers her response.

"Me too..."

They lay together in silence for a while, Elvis's mind going crazy wondering what she's thinking. He goes back to the conversation that never happened. Does she love him? Could this actually work?

"Vivian, you know, we could finish our conversation now." She sits up and looks into his face, hers painted with a look of anguish.

"No, we can't."

"Why not?"

"Because the same reason you can't be with Ann Margaret is the same reason you can't be with me."

"Priscilla."

"Yes." He puts his hand on his forehead.

"Goddamnit. Man, I really screwed myself, didn't I?" She sighs deeply.

"Elvis, you told me once that she makes sense to you. Is that still true?"

"Yes, but-"

"Then there's your answer. I don't make sense to anyone. You should marry her." His heart breaks for Viv. He wants to tell her that it doesn't matter, that she does make sense to him, that even if she didn't he would love her. But he doesn't. He knows what the right thing to do is.

So he loosens his grip on her and she gets out of the bed. She finds her clothes from where she left them to change into his pajamas last night. He lays in the bed as she dresses, trying to keep himself from crying. Losing Ann Margaret was bad, but this is pure torture.

When she's fully put back together, she stands in the doorway just looking at him and he notices that she's crying and has been the whole time.

"Vivian..." He says it softly. Then, he gets out of bed and grabs a robe from a chair, wrapping it around himself. He walks to where she's standing and she collapses into his chest, sobbing. He holds her in his arms and kisses the top of her head. "I'm sorry."

She nods into him and then pulls back, wiping her face. He tries to catch her eyes but she won't look up at him. Without another word, she turns and walks out of the room, down the stairs, and through the front door, leaving him standing in the doorway. When he hears the front door latch, he falls to his knees and sobs.

Vivian is gone. He proposes to Priscilla in December of 1966.

******

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @jhoneybees @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia

[rememberwren]

A Dichotomy of Thought || 1

You move next door to a disabled veteran and his troubled partner.

Warnings and details: disabled!Johnny; established Ghoap future Ghoap/reader; domestic abuse (not Ghoap); heavy themes of suicide, violence, abuse, poor coping mechanisms, prescription drugs. I’m not sure if I have anything here, let me know if anyone is interested in this series.

#

A helicopter goes down in the mountains of Kazakhstan and it takes a piece of Soap with it. They never recovered the arm—nor the three service members who lost more than their arms in the crash. The thought is one that Johnny’s mind cycles back to often, in moments of quiet or while he lies awake at night feeling tremors in an arm that’s no longer attached. Suddenly he’ll wonder: what are those bones up to, buried in snow and ice so deep the sun will never touch them again? Do they miss me?

Fuck, he misses them.

#

After the accident, the world is very black and white. Mostly it’s black. Blackness at the edge of his vision threatens to creep in when he stands too long, when he stands on his own, when he turns his head too fast. Anytime his blood pressure rises over that Goldilocks number of 120/80, it threatens to drop him faster than Simon used to during their first weeks of training together in the 141.

The doctors say that he’s a miracle. The traumatic brain injury had his brain swelling and pushing at the confines of his skull like water freezing in a bottle. Give him a little longer in the cold and maybe his cap would blow off. Except it hadn’t; he was still dealing with swelling all over: in his thalamus, his hypothalamus, in his cerebrum, all the words he’d never bothered to learn in school and couldn’t fucking remember now no matter how hard he tries. He gets the point. Simon does too. Johnny should be dead.

Instead he just wishes he were.

Even now, when he can remember his name and Simon’s and even (more often than not) the name of the waitress who serves them chicken and waffles at the local diner every Saturday, there are still more bad days than good. Still more darkness than light. Still more nights waking up to the sound of helicopter blades slowing, the relentless hum becoming a deafening chop chop chop like the thrum of his heartbeat. There’s that moment of weightlessness when the helo goes down and he has yet to go with it that makes him wake in a cold sweat, nauseous and looking for something to be sick in.

Through it all, Simon is there. Simon is the light. He’d laugh if he heard Johnny say that—though a laugh is probably too generous. Simon doesn’t laugh much these days. Not when he spends three fourths of his time taking care of Johnny and the other fourth thinking about how better to take care of Johnny. If it weren’t for Simon, Johnny would have done himself in by now. There’s a thousand ways to do it; plenty of arms and munitions in the apartment they share together. Or there are the pain pills, if he wanted it to look like an accident. A few too many of those and he could crawl right through that darkness in his vision and find out what’s on the other side. As soon as the thought crosses his mind (and it crosses his mind more often than that fucking chicken crosses the road), the guilt comes, like anyone and everyone can read it on his mind: his mama rest her soul, Simon, Jesus on the cross. After all of the work that has gone into him, into saving his broken body and mind, into rehabilitating him, how can he even think of throwing in the towel?

Turns out it’s pretty fucking easy to think about it.

As a matter of fact, he’s thinking about it the first time he meets you, when you nearly do the job for him.

It’s spring, cool, and he’s working up a goddamn sweat anyway. Simon stands in the alleyway, smoking and pretending not to watch as Johnny hobbles up and down the length of the parking lot with his forearm crutch. His armpit throbs. His knee throbs. His head throbs as he continues along, beating out a strange little rhythm on the concrete—thum-thump, thum-thump, thum-thump. He says all the curse words he knows and dreams up a few new ones too. It’s supposed to be getting easier, but Simon just pushes him harder to make up for the ground he covers. That’s one of the shitty parts about loving an ex-military man; he never goes easy on you.

Johnny’s thinking about the tub upstairs, just big enough for him if he curls in on himself. Sometimes a hot bath helps the knots in his muscles, but sometimes when Simon leaves the room to get a washcloth Johnny will slip beneath the surface of the water and see how long he can hold his—

Then you come out of absolutely nowhere in your shitty little four-door and nearly hit him. As a matter of fact, you do hit his crutch, sending it sprawling out of his hand and sending him clattering to the ground on his bad side. For a moment, he thinks: this is it. This is how I die. Not in a helicopter in Kazahkstan but here, now, today, and he can’t tell if it’s relief in his belly or regret. Then your tires squeal like pigs on the pavement, the smell of burnt rubber thick in the air, and he is face to face with you and your horror, close enough that the air from your hasty turn brushes along his body and sends his heart pounding.

“What the steaming bloody fucking Jesus do you think you’re doing?” he finds himself shouting, pain lancing all along his side from his fake knee to the stump of his arm. Simon is there all at once, cigarette abandoned to smolder to ash in the alleyway, putting his hands under Johnny’s armpits and lifting him like a child even when he yelps in pain like a kicked dog. Johnny leans against him heavily. The edges of his vision are turning black. He bangs his fist against the hood of your car. “Did Jesus send ye? Did He tell ye to finish the fucking job and do me in? ‘That’s the cunt right there, beam him with your car’? Did he tell you that?”

You reluctantly get out of the car, not even wearing a goddamn seatbelt. The car’s soft, insistent alarm begins to remind you with unending politeness that the door is open and your seatbelt is off while you stand there, pallid, eyes huge and watering in the face of Johnny’s shouts.

He sees then that one of your eyes is swollen almost completely shut, blood turning the white sclera pink like the fine mist of blood over the snow when they finally pulled Johnny free from the helicopter. No wonder you didn’t see him coming, with a single functioning eye. He’s opened his mouth to tell you so (and to tell you a dozen other fucking things) when he nearly swoons, the rug of the world being tugged under his feet by the hand of God.

Simon slips a firmer arm around Johnny’s waist.

A man gets out of the passenger side. He begins to berate you for not paying attention, for nearly killing Johnny. Johnny agrees, but is annoyed all the same. He’s the one who almost died; leave the shouting to him.

“I’m so sorry,” you choke out, tears dripping near-constant from your eyes. “I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry. Let me get your—”

“Done enough, haven’t you?” Simon asks cooly. It sends you reeling back into the car where you sit with both hands over your mouth, chest hitching with your panicked sobs.

“Hey, is he, like, okay?” your partner asks.

“Fuck off,” Simon says, deftly ushering Johnny over one shoulder and holding the crutch in the other. He carries them back to the elevators without breaking a sweat, and Johnny cries on his shoulder from the pain of it, the sheer embarrassment of it the whole way home. The day before Kazahkstan he couldn’t have been able to tell you the last time he cried; now he cries every fucking day from one reason or another.

“I’m fine,” Johnny says when they make it back to the apartment and Simon eases him down into a chair. They arrange his knee in the one position that has it throbbing less, but then Johnny bats Simon’s hands away. “Go. I’m fine. I don’t need you hoverin’ over me.”

“Alright.”

“Fuck off with yer alright.”

Simon doesn’t say anything. Johnny hears his footsteps leading toward the bedroom they share—hardly a bedroom, how long has it been since they slept there together peacefully? Since they fucked? Johnny can tell you how long it’s been. Since before things went black and white. The footsteps stop then.

“You stepped in front of her, Johnny,” Simon says, his voice low but not quiet enough to count as a whisper. “I watched you do it. Don’t think you’re so fucking slick.”

He shuts the bedroom door behind him.

[skywqlkergf]

⠀ dealer!sam monroe x cheerleader!reader

　　⠀　 　 saturday : daytime

⠀　　⠀　 series masterlist

you wake up to the sun shining through your curtains, the brightness making you squint and roll over. stuffing your head under the pillow, anything to help you go back to sleep. you dreamt of sam, you wished you could just go back to it. you knew it was better than reality.

you forced yourself out of the comfort of your duvet, hair standing basically on end. there was the tiniest hickey on your neck, right below your ear. your hand shooting up to touch the darkened skin, your eyebrows raised and your mouth in a ‘o’ shape in surprise.

you immediately starting grabbing color corrector and concealer. if your parents were to see this you'll surely be publicly hanged. you covered up the mark, spraying setting spray on the makeup to keep it from moving. adrenaline rushed through your veins, before meeting sam you'd never really done anything to get in trouble.

now, now you smoke weed like all the time, usually in the woods behind your house so your parents don't catch you. sneaking out to go see him, and now you're marked. it made you giggle a little, and continued getting ready.

as you bounded down the stairs, you find the house empty. this wasn't necessarily an out of place thing to happen, both of your parents being extreme workaholics, they were almost never here.

as you try to find something to eat, you find a note on the fridge that reads : out of town, conference, gone until monday.

you nodded, opting for cereal, you had the entire house to yourself for the next two days. so, of course, you had to call sam and sew if he wanted to come see you.

the line rang, and a very groggy sam answered, “hello?” it was obvious he didn't look at who was calling, tone of annoyance very obviously heard. his voice was deeper than what you usually know it as, you had to bite down a giggle. something that you did out of nervousness.

“sam? did i wake you up?” you cringed as you spoke, you hopped he didn't just wake up. you peered around the kitchen til you spot a clock, it was well into noon.

“cheer, it's good to hear your voice during daylight,” you almost wanted to scoff at him, he was the one who acted like you didn't exist before sundown.

“do you want to come over? mom and dad are gone until monday. i thought,” you paused as you tried to gather your thoughts. you thought you guys could do all kinds of things. but you didn't necessarily want to do all of that, afraid that he reall would disappear.

“well, i thought maybe we could like watch some movies or something, y’know if you're not busy or whatever.” you hoped you sounded casual, but you probably sounded as nervous as you felt. your hand coming to twirl your hair around a finger as you awaited his response.

“think i can swing by in an hour, gotta run some errands. you want me pick up some food?” you could hear the flicker of a lighter through your speaker, a tell that he was smoking a cigarette, along with the air he released.

“oh! that would be great, whatever you wanna grab is fine by me. also, you have to be careful, sam! i woke up with a hickey, that is so not okay.” you wanted to giggle, sam monroe is killing you in the best way possible. you really can't be getting caught messing around with anyone, especially not the one guy that your parents specifically warned you against. but then again, that's half the fun.

his laugh comes through, “well, doll, I'll try my best but I can't make any promises. it's not my fault, really.” your knees buckle a little at the pet name.

“well, learn to control yourself, i guess.” you couldn't help but smile even though he couldn't see you.

“i’ll see what i can do.” you can still hear the laugh in his tone.

“see you soon, cheer, i gotta head out.” he sounded almost sad that he had to hang up, but he can't exactly stay on the phone with you while he makes deals.

“be safe, sam, see you when you get here.” he hunmed in response and the two of you disconnected the call.

time passes slowly as you await sam's arrival, it always seems when you want something the universe makes time go ten times slower. the hours pass by like days, but then you hear his car pulling up.

the bass in his speakers causing vibrations to be felt under your feet on the porch. you, of course, meet him outside.

as he exits the car, sunglasses perched on his face, a bag of fast food in one hand. he gave you a combination of a smirk and a smile and you just smile gently back to him.

as he gets closer you notice the stain of a purple bruise forming around his left eye. your eyes squint and your eyebrows qurik up, “hey, cheer, you look so pretty.” he greets with a unashamed grin, that falls almost immediately when he sees your face.

you pause a moment, hoping that he'd just offer up the information. “i brought some taco bell, that sound good?” he's trying to ease the now palpable tension, while also wracking his brain to try and figure out why you would switch up so quick. it's not uncommon for sam to end up with bruises, people are dicks, and it kinda comes with the job.

as soon as he is in arm's reach of you, you lean up and grab his sunglasses from his face. the bruise is decently sized, and has healed for at least a night.

“sam, what happened?” any inch of anger, mow just saddened worried for this boy or may or may not be yours. your fingers dance gently around the discoloured skin, careful not to make direct contact. he winces away from your touch, never really having anyone that gave enough of a fuck.

now that he's in front of you, you notice that it's not the only injury, his lips is also a little split.

“oh, oh, it's nothing. just a little bruise, nothing I can't take. customer wasn't happy with some prices, deal went wry, nothing you need to worry your little head about.” his hand comes to craddle your face, you have no idea what the two of you are doing, but you didn't really care. all you can think about is how this probably happens at least once a week, the thought causes your nose to scrunch up.

you're careful not to argue with him on the porch, can't be giving the neighbors a show that they'll inevitably tell your parents about. you drag him by his shirt into the house, closing the door behind you.

“sam.” you sigh, the brattier side of your attitude showing, and your heart that cares more than you could begin to understand.

you foot taps a little, trying to reign your emotions again, he just stares at you eyebrows raised. his sunglasses still in your hand, and he sets the food down on a tabletop nearby.

“nothing to worry about? your eye is fucking purple.” anger settled over your features, despite the fact that were trying to swallow it. you care about people alot, and it affects every part of your life. once you've claimed someone as yours, whatever happens to them is your problem. doesn't matter if you've known them a week or a year.

sam’s lips twitch trying not to smile, he's never had anyone care enough about to him to be upset. it was feeding his ego, and making him fall hard. you were so sweet, kind and everything he didn't deserve.

“i’m serious, sam, you have to be careful,” you pouted now, feeling deflated.

“baby, listen to me.” he comes closer, arms around yours, rubbing the skin of your biceps comfortingly. you look at him, a few tears building up in your eyes. you wanted to protect him, lock him in your basement and never let him go, cause then at least he wouldn't get all fucked up.

“no, no, don't cry,” he wipes the tears away, once again craddling your face in his hands.

“i’m okay, i’ll always be okay. I'm a big boy,” he chuckles but it's a dry sound. “i can take care of myself perfectly fine, and the other guys look way worse than me, my rings leave a pretty lil indent, okay? I'm not going anywhere, i can promise you that.” he pulls you in hugging you, the smell of his natural scent and weed filling your senses. he's so warm, and comforting.

“yeah, well," you laugh dryly, trying your best to suck up any tears you had still falling. “you better be, I'll beat you up, myself, if i have to.” he laughs genuinely at this, holding you just a little tighter.

“let’s stop this sad shit, watch some films and eat these tacos, yeah?” you nod at him, smiling a bit. you fall onto the couch beside him, a small smile falling onto your face as you do.

[pallanophblargh]

Color! Composition still wonky, but this was done mainly to see how I liked the colors and such. I can reposition and resize birds/leaves/etc another time. And get a decent proper hexagon drawn up.

This has been an exercise in not letting perfection hold me back. I have to start getting back into art somehow, right?

[annihilatius]

[icewindandboringhorror]

... why he sit like this

[dndads-winter-gift-exchange]

Assignments Update!

Hey Doodlers! Exciting news- we're nearly finished with assignments!

After a lot of hard work on our end and patience from you, we're finally nearing the end of assignments. Which is so exciting!! We'll 100% be finished by the end of the day today, and will be sending them out tomorrow, January 5th, since it's getting pretty late for us and we want to be alert to make sure sending goes smoothly.

Thank you all for your kindness in dealing with the delays, we deeply appreciate it. We'll post when assignments start sending, and then post again when they're all sent out. We hope you're all as stoked as we are- go Doodlers!