#i just needed to write something different bc i feel like all my recent fics have wound up the same

[lowkeyrobin]

hi omg!! i just wanna say i love your tmr writing sm!??! but i recently got back into my tua phase so i was wondering if i could request a five x reader fic?

so five meets reader a few years into the apocalypse. reader survived bc they were one of the 43 kids w/ powers but never adopted into tua (i read this wanda!reader fic and those powers were super cool but again whatever you wanna do!!) they survive those 45 years together and join the commission as partners and five takes them back to 2019 with him!? feel free to do this any way you like, maybe even just one part of it but its just an idea i had!!

omg thank you!!! 🫶 ; and yes of course I love this!!!!! ; thank you for requesting, hope u enjoy!

FIVE HARGREEVES ; back to the future

summary ; you meet five, work for the commission, and end up going to 2019 with him to help him save his siblings

warnings ; language, guns/gun violence, sexual innuendos/jokes but I didn't mean for it to be? like idk, how do old people make out 😭

word count ; 1.3k

masterlist

You were immediately compelled by Five Hargreeves the second he stepped into the Commission building. Your eyes were set on him.

He was around what, 58, when you met him? Mentally, at least. You were just the same, old and wrinkly, traveling across the universe of time to keep shit collected.

You quickly learned that he was also born on October 1st, 1989, brought into the world with powers just like you.

He could blink, or teleport, and travel through time with enough given energy. You, on the other hand, harvested telekinesis and energy manipulation.

You were assigned to be partners rather quickly, considering you were both highly powerful and trained assassins. Five wasn't very fond of you at first, clearly having some trouble he needed to work through, which you wouldn't prod him about. Obviously, you kept your distance to not bother him, but made some mental notes about what you'd seen and learned from him.

After a while, he grew more fond of you, but was still clearly struggling with some stuff.

"Five, watch out!"

"Wh-"

You quickly shove him to the side, your hands glowing a pulsing red as you use your telekinesis to throw the enemy soldiers to the side, protecting your partner. They grunt as their heads split open against the pavement, having been thrown by your unforseen abilities.

Five, a hand holding his fedora down, looks up at you in awe. This is the first time he's seen you use your powers, and damn, did you look badass. He merely watches from the sidelines, hearts in his old eyes.

As the men pick themselves up, they rush toward you one by one like this was the WWE or something. You throw the first one away again using your powers, ironically into a large dumpster that closes as he hits the bottom at such force and speed. The two in the back you distract by popping the glass on the lamp posts, one shard hitting one in the eye.

The next who approaches you, you use your hands to take down, strategically placing multiple punches in his face. The last, who wasn't struck by a large chunk of glass in the eyeball, shoots at you. Five, taking notice much before you, quickly blips to you, grabs you, then blips a few feet away to protect you.

You use your telekinesis to grab a hold of his gun, then use it against him, the loud pop silencing the alleyway. You deactivate your powers and turn back to Five, throwing the gun down.

"Thanks"

He nods. "That was cool"

"Complimenting me? Since when?"

"Since now"

It wasn't until you went back to 1989 to help the Handler retrieve another powered kid that you had a deep talk. It was at a bar afterward, the two of you drowning out the deep mental toll all the killing had taken on you.

Five would never admit it, but it had an effect on him, you just showed it more. Having grown up in different environments, you expressed emotions differently.

You sit at the bar, sipping on champagne, dressed in suits like businessmen. Even at two in the morning, you looked prim and proper, with the exception of tired eyes.

"Does it ever get to you?" You ask, "Not just killing, but everything we have to do for the Commission"

He nods. "Yeah." He begins to ramble, being drunk out of his mind as he'd been taste testing damn near every drink the bar had. "Sometimes I wonder what ever happened to my family, if they're okay in the future."

"What do you mean?" You question, never having heard much about his past.

He looks down for a moment before taking another sip of his beverage. "My father adopted seven of us, kids born with powers. We lived together, were trained, and used to fight off evil." He scoffs, "I tried to show him I was powerful enough to do time jumps and ended up stranded in the apocalypse. I was alone for years, and then the Handler found me. I don't know how it started or anything, but I've been attempting to find the correct equation to travel back enough time before it happened to stop it."

You blink, processing the information he just rambled out. "Damn, I'm sorry"

He nods, "I should be able to do it soon, on that next order to kill JFK."

"What about the Handler? What about me? I don't wanna snitch on you or rat you out, I mean-"

He shakes his head. "You'll come back with me."

"What?"

Silence blankets you for a few moments.

"I could use you. Whether it be opening a hole in the space time continuum large enough for both of us or needing you and your powers to stop said apocalypse, you could be useful. You've proven to be so."

You nod again. "Hm"

He looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

You shrug. "Interesting that you thought of bringing me along in the first place."

"You're smart, you think and process quickly. Your powers could easily outmatch even most of my siblings, even without, your hand to hand combat is brilliant. You're even smarter than me, sometimes"

You bite your tongue, attempting to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Well thanks, Hargreeves"

"It's the truth, Y/n"

"Don't try and flatter me, I have a big ego"

He did, in fact, flatter you, maybe a little too much at that. God forbid that hotel with one bed that you had to share that night to rest before heading back to work. Who knew that old man was so good at romance and kissing? Kinda weird for someone who was stuck in an apocalyptic hell for 40 years.

"Go to bed, Five"

"I'm shocked you're not asking for another kiss"

"Shut the fuck up"

You didn't realize how miserable 1963 really was. From the racism and queerphobia to the overall miserable looking farm life, or maybe it was just Texas. For being so well traveled, you really weren't.

You hide behind a white picket fence with Five, accompanying him to make sure JFK was assassinated. A sniper rifle rests in a case you were carrying for him, the sound of parade music and crowd goers filling your ears.

He looks to you, giving you that sneaky little smile and nod. You set the case down as he does the same with the briefcase, making sure to stay as low as you could beside this parking lot.

You watch as a blue aura squiggles around his hands, another larger hole a few feet in front of him. He stretches it out, creating sparks of lightning, crackles of thunder audible like he was creating a storm to the future. As he gives you the nod, a fire extinguisher lands at your feet, having been thrown through on the other side.

Your furrowed eyebrows are visible to Five, who sighs. You were definitely landing in the right place.

You raise your hands toward the blue storm, a red glow illuminating it as you pull it open further, long enough to settle it, then quickly jump in.

Five grabs your hand, and with one last look, pulls you into the portal back to the future.

You fall to the ground, hair a mess, your suit now too big for your body.

You look up, having landed on your ass next to Five. A group of what you supposed were his siblings, stare at him in awe and confusion. He stands up, brushing the dust from his clothes. He stretches a hand out for you, helping you up from the ground covered in dead leaves.

The siblings, eyes widened and jaws dropped, watch as you both casually walk inside the mansion you landed in the middle of. They were one hundred percent questioning how you were here, where Five had been, and who you were.

But that didn't matter at the moment. What did matter was getting that old man now trapped in his pubescent body some coffee.

[joelmama]

The Fisherman's Wife | Oneshot

no-outbreak!AU, no-Ellie!AU (😞), (basically it's pretty much devoid of anything canon, I'm sorry 😭 I just was desperate to see Joel as a fisherman.)(also don't ask what time-period this is set in i have no clue)

pairing: fisherman!Joel, soft!Joel x afab!fem!Reader content: arranged marriage, angst, fluff, smut. summary: The free-spirited Reader is arranged to marry a divorced Fisherman named Joel Miller. And although she protested this at first, she soon wonders if maybe she could be happy with her new husband. word count: 28.2k (yeesh) warnings: NSFW 18+ - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. mentions of death, age-gap (reader is 27, Joel is 48), smut - oral (f receiving and m recieving), fingering, unprotected p in v sex, reader is inexperienced (meaning loss of virginity), lovesick Joel, and not beta'd! (if i left anything out please let me know :))

(oh and an obscene use of Y/N bc i write in third person 😩)

Ao3 Link

A/N: Hiii~!!! so usually I write fics for a completely different realm of content. but I haven't been able to continue my most recent fic bc this idea has been stuck in my mind for fricken weeks!!! and it wouldn't get out of my head until i actually wrote it down. TLOU has just been on my brain constantly these days i guess 🙄 (🥰). anyways i thought i'd write it, post it here, and then disappear back into my usual corner of the internet, never to be seen again 😈. i hope you enjoy my story!! ILY <3

Far out from the rainy coast of the Pacific Northwest, sat a small island, always caught in the throes of an aimless sea. It was called the Isle of Ardor. Named after the burning passion of love. It was a peculiar name for the island, as it was always embedded within dark, curling swirls of stormy rain clouds; As well as the sour emotions that came with the storm— provided, of course, by the residents of this Isle. So the island was often left without the feeling of love. Neglected, for lack of any other words. Far from the symbol of love that was known by the world. 

Sure, there was the love that was bestowed by marriage, when a man first sets his sight on his arranged lover dressed in white. Or even love passed between a parent and a child, when a mother first hears the first laugh that tumbles out of her sweet childs lips. Or the fumbling platonic love that creates itself in whispered secrets during sleepovers between friends. But none of it was burning. None of it was passionate. It was a simple form of love. A perfect representation of the simple life that was often led on the Isle of Ardor. Despite its exciting name. 

A more fitting name would perhaps be something more simple. Unembellished. Basic. Ordinary. Sturdy. Something to match the uniform march of the adults in this town, as they traveled along the cobblestone roads in early morning light. Headed towards their humdrum jobs that kept the economy of this island churning like a slow cog in the machine. Meanwhile, the children were taught about this monotonous life in school. Sat rigid in their seats, the stiff collar of their uniform scratching at their necks. Forced to listen, forced to learn that there was only one path for them to take. All signs pointed, roads led and everything suggested that these children— Just as their parents, and their grandparents—  were destined for a life of simplicity. 

It was the exact opposite of what Y/N wanted. She abhorred the idea of simple. She wanted excitement. Yearned for passion. Craved the burn of love that left scars on your heart and bruises on your lips. 

Her wants and desperate needs were proven in the way she grew up. There wasn’t a day that went by where she wouldn’t step out of line. Her wrists would be sore from the snap of her teacher's ruler. Her ears would grow tired of the constant reprimand from her father. And her knees would bleed freely from the times she would escape the horrid monotony of life, out into the nature beyond. But the island was small, and her feet could only take her so far, so she would always easily be caught. She would return home with her sore wrists, tired ears and bloody knees, and sit by her bedroom window, hoping for something greater to take her away. 

It never came.

Eventually, she grew older. She matured, and she learned how to stay in line. For the most part. But as she aged, her tongue grew sharper with wit, and she soon often got in trouble for using words that could rival a sailor’s. By the time she was of marriageable age, no one on the island wanted anything to do with her. This all of course was to the dismay of her father. Who at this point thought that he would never be rid of his rambunctious daughter. 

He loved her with all of his beating heart, of course. But on the Isle of Ardor, all fathers wanted the same thing for their daughters. By the age of eighteen, they wanted their girls to find a satisfactory suitor to take care of them so that the fathers didn't have to worry as they faded into their old age. 

By now, all of Y/N’s classmates were already married. While at the age of twenty-seven due to her wild nature, no one had brought any offers to their household for her hand in marriage. Her father grew weaker and weaker as worry settled into his bones. 

Y/N on the other hand was ecstatic by her lack of prospects. Being a spinster meant she didn’t have to worry about some silly husband, wife or partner she didn’t truly care about. If people thought she was crazy? So be it. It was all worth it for the price of her freedom.

And now as she had no other burden brought on by school or a job, she would oftentimes be found by the raging ocean. Her toes deep in the blackened sand, skin salted by the sea and her hair tangled by the mischievous winds. And this is exactly where she was the minute she found out about the news that would tear her world apart.

Her father had found her a suitor.

The news was brought to her by the young messenger boy who would carry the most recent word of mouth with him on his rusty bicycle. Her father had flagged him down, offering a bill or two to find his daughter and bring her home immediately to meet the man she was destined to marry. 

The poor boy. He didn’t deserve to be met with the rage of a mad woman, but that was what he stumbled across when the news of her arranged marriage escaped from between his lips. At the sight, he suddenly understood why she was considered the town spinster. She was angered and chaotic, screaming into the wind when his words finally registered. She looked like a feral animal, the way she gnashed her teeth, yelling about the unfairness of it all. 

Him being no older than ten years old, couldn’t really understand why she was so upset about this news. She mumbled a few things— Something about her loss of freedom and self expression. But it was all very strange. He was used to the usual reaction from young women whenever they heard the news of their engagement. They were always… ecstatic. Squealing like pigs as they clutched onto their nearest friend, family member or even just a stranger. Or if they were unhappy with the prospect of marriage— just as Y/N was now— they were always able to hold their tongue until they were alone. 

Her reaction was all just very… strange. Very different. 

And different, it was. She now sat, stewing in her anger, refusing to even spare a glance towards her future husband.

A celebratory dinner, made carefully and happily by her aunt, sat on the wooden table stretched between them. It was all the distance she needed to ignore the man she was meant to be betrothed to. But even though she could avert her gaze, there was no getting past listening in on the conversation that flitted between this man and her family members.

She had learned that he lived on the other side of the island. So now it made sense that she didn’t recognize his surname when the messenger boy first told it to her. She barely got to know the names of her neighbors, let alone those on the windward side.

He was known as Joel Miller, only learning his first name when her father greeted him at the beginning of the evening, with a sturdy handshake at their front door, the casual name falling from his tongue as they exchanged niceties. As she stood behind her father’s shoulder, she refused to look at him even then, her eyes steady on the toes of her boots. 

Now at the table, the topic of his occupation also arose during the conversation. He spoke of his adventures out at sea, and what he encountered in his life as a fisherman. 

Typical. A fisherman. The most sought out job on this island as they were mainly considered as gods since they provided the island with prosperous amounts of food and good fortune. The people that held the title of ‘fishermen’ were always the most sought after when it came to marriage. Y/N wondered how her father was able to find a man like that for her. 

But as the dinner went on, the secret was soon revealed. Because she soon learned that his wife had left him. Many years ago, late in the night as a stowaway on a cargo ship headed towards the mainland. The only thing worse than a spinster was a man whose wife had left him. And now the puzzle pieces were fitting together. 

They were a match made in heaven. The crazy woman and the unwanted man. 

Y/N felt nothing but sympathy for his first wife. Surely, she was just the same as she. The only reason a woman would leave her partner was if she yearned for freedom beyond the tassels of marriage. Maybe eventually, Y/N would make the score two for two. Leave him behind just as his first wife did. The thought brought an overwhelming onslaught of anticipation that burned within the girl's core. 

But she had to be patient. She couldn’t just leave him when all eyes were narrowed in on their engagement. The whispers on the street all revolved around her, and how she was finally able to snag a man after all these years. Even more speculation was offered when they found out who the man was. Apparently these two were a circus act around the Isle of Ardor. A horrific accident that none of the residents could tear their eyes from.

Maybe that’s why their wedding was so crowded. 

A few weeks had past, and she had yet to grant the man with her gaze. All she knew of his looks was the quick glimpse of silver she saw scattered amongst the brown in his hair, and the hard set of his jawline, clenched in an anger that seemed to always be present. So as she walked down the aisle, her fingers clenched around a wilting bouquet of daisies, she kept her eyes pointed towards the horizon that lingered in the distance.

Traditional Ardorian weddings were always held in the same place. On the cliffside, hanging over the tempestuous sea that always danced near the shores of the Isle. The same clergyman, performed the same ceremony, spoke the same gentle words every single time. She has been to countless versions of this very same wedding throughout the duration of her life. Though, she never thought that it would be her who was forced to stand under the wedding arch. Especially in her late-mothers wedding gown, in front of the entirety of the small town that sat on the coast of Ardor. 

The most surprising part of it all was when she exchanged her ‘I do’s’ effortlessly and without any complaint. 

Maybe that was what also surprised most of the wedding-goers, as they began to whisper to one another. The crowd seemed disappointed, almost as if they expected a spectacle from the woman they deemed a recluse. From the rumors they’ve already heard through the grapevine, maybe they were expecting her to grow reckless with abandon. To stomp her feet and scream out to the gods. So when they were met with this quiet, timid version of the woman, who spoke her vows with no contradiction, they all stood and left the wedding. Completely missing out on the part when the man was told to kiss his bride. Which he didn’t even do. 

A very strange wedding indeed. 

It all came to a head when the man called Joel finally brought his new wife towards the threshold of their (used) marital home. It was a few hours after the ceremony, and usually this part of the evening was paired with bright, eager smiles as newly-weds were finally allowed to consummate their love. However, as we already know with this couple, the night went very differently than the norm that is usually presented. 

As soon as he had unlocked the door for his established home, the woman stormed through the front entrance, her eyes darting around each corner as she took in each aspect of her new home. Trying to find something to dislike. But it was an agreeable home. Comfortable and cluttered with trinkets that must’ve meant a great deal to the man. It was… interesting. So after finding nothing she could truly complain about, and be the disastrous wife she planned to be, she whipped towards him in an unexpected flurry, her arms folding across her chest. 

Her eyes finally landed on him for the very first time. And she stilled. 

He was older. Much older. But she already knew that from the information she learned from her father. What she didn’t know was how good age looked on the man. He was handsome... And so much larger than she had thought. His shoulders were wide, emphasized as he stood in the doorway. His hands looked strong and calloused, obviously capable of working against the aggression brought forth by an unforgiving sea. 

Then there were the features she had only caught glimpses of, but yet she was overly familiar with— due to the flashes of her memory that blared across the dark of her eyelids whenever she tried to sleep. His brown curls were unruly across his forehead, despite his attempt to manage them with gel, most likely trying to look put together for the wedding. They were painted with faint hues of gray, evidence of the twenty-some years he had against her. 

Her eyes tugged towards his familiar jawline. Strong— just as she remembered. But it wasn’t clenched in anger, or anything else of the sorts. His features were molded in a form that looked to be like curiosity. Maybe this was the first real look he had of her as well…

That’s when she met the deep brown irises of his eyes. The sight of which was a drastic contrast of anything else she had known of him. They were almost… warm and forgiving, bordered by the faint outline of crows feet, formed over the years. His gaze was soft in the way he considered her features and dragged over the curves of her body. So different from the harsh lines of the rest of his body.

She held her arms tighter against her form. Feeling vulnerable under his stare.

“I don’t know what you’re expecting to happen…” Y/N finally spoke the first words she ever said to the man who was considered to be her husband, “But I can assure you that it’s not what you’re thinking.”

The man simply stared at her, his eyebrows raising at her words. She took a step back as he took a step inside, but felt foolish as he only did so to turn around and shut the front door behind him. The familiar sea breeze now lost to them. 

When he turned back around, he spoke the first words he ever said to the woman who was considered to be his wife. 

“I wasn’t expectin’ anything.” He replied, his sentence simple and his accent faded.

She had heard his voice before. When he was speaking to her father and reciting his vows. But now that it was directed towards her, it finally dawned on her how deep it was. How it rumbled through his chest in such a way that it settled deep within Y/N’s bones.

She was perturbed by the sensation. So much so that her next argument was lost on her tongue.

“Follow me.” He said, in the absence of her words.

Since there wasn’t much left to do, she did just that. The small house shifted under the weight of their footfalls as they ascended up the creaky stairs. Y/N’s eyes were trained on the sight of his broad back, taking up so much space as he ventured through the hallways of this two-story home. 

Her eyes were soon torn away from his form as she took in the decor of the rest of his— their house. It matched what she saw downstairs. Everything was nautical themed, something common within the homes that littered this island. But the way this house was decorated was different. Instead of the manufactured ocean aesthetic that Y/N was used to, everything about this house was… natural. The way she felt in this house felt exactly how she felt on the beaches that ringed around this tiny island. She never thought she’d ever meet anyone who was able to capture the essence of the natural world so effortlessly. She began to soften, similar to what she felt when she saw that look in his brown eyes.

She squared her shoulders against the thought, forcing her resolve back to the forefront of her mind. This was the last place she wanted to be. She had to remind herself of that. 

“This is your room.” Joel muttered in that deep voice of his, stopping at a door sat at the end of the hall. His large hand twisting the golden doorknob, it swung open as he pushed against the wood. 

“My room?” Y/N questioned, as she stood on her tiptoes, staring into the confines that were now revealed from over Joel’s shoulder. She took in the sight of a wrought-iron bed, a vanity and a wardrobe built out of dark-stained wood. Furniture to call her own for the first time. 

“Your’s.” He nodded in confirmation. And then he stepped aside, letting her venture further into the room. She breathed in the fresh air that was granted by the windows that still stood open against either wall, crickets calling through the crevices, seeping in from the dark of the night. 

She ran a hand over the handmade quilt that covered the mattress, cool against her palm, unslept in for months— maybe years. 

The floorboards squeaked under her feet as she turned quickly towards where Joel was standing. But the doorway was empty. Her words of gratitude fell flat against the air now that there was no one to direct them to. 

He must’ve snuck off as she was admiring the room, assuming she wanted to be left alone. Which she did. But no one had ever respected her privacy before. She definitely wasn’t expecting the courtesy from the man she was forced to marry. 

A weird feeling wormed its way into Y/N’s heart, one she had never felt before. She chose to ignore it as she plopped onto the mattress, springs squeaking under her weight, staring at the vacant space where Joel once stood.

~

Weeks passed by, and neither one of the newlyweds tried to make any contact with one another as they resided in their separate bedrooms.

Since Y/N was now destined to be a doting housewife, no one had any expectations for her beyond the household she currently lived in. And since Joel was avoiding her just as much as she was him, it was easy to dismiss his heavy footfalls that rang out against the house in the early hours of the morning. All she had to do was wait until they faded off the steps of the front porch, and then she was free to roam the house that was now half hers. 

Though after her exploring was finished, most of her days were spent in the garden, overgrown from lack of maintenance, but Y/N happened to like it that way. She was elated to find it, as she stood on the precipice of the backyard that very first morning. And now Y/N could be found curled on the antiquated porch swing that sat among the weeds, a book cradled in her lap, stolen from the office she also discovered on her second day of living with her new husband. 

However, as she relaxed in the garden, sun shining over every inch of her exposed skin, guilt would soon riddle her bones. It was another feeling she wasn’t used to. But now that she was married and now that she knew that Joel wasn’t the horrible intrusive husband she thought he would be, she decided he deserved to come home to a warm meal. So eventually— after a few of her days spent basking in the sun, the guilt becoming too much— she would one day venture to the market nearest their marital home and pick up ingredients to make the man some dinner after his long day at the docks.

She would never actually eat with him, of course— only leaving the homemade food in a ceramic pot stationed in the middle of the kitchen table. But she hoped her gesture proved enough that she wasn’t exactly angered by his newfound presence in her life. 

Despite the fact that she still planned on her escape.

It was obvious that Joel wasn’t a bad husband. And of course, that brought pause to the woman. She wondered what exactly it was that drove his first wife to leave him when he wasn’t nearly as bad as she thought. But the mystery still couldn’t counter with the fact that Y/N was desperate for her freedom, and desperate for a love that would set her heart on fire. Surely she couldn’t find that sort of thing on this tiny insignificant island. She had to escape. Didn’t she?

The topic stayed constant on her mind as she perused the books in Joel’s tiny library (library being a generous term, it was actually just one shelf tucked in the corner of his office). One day, in the living room, she even stumbled upon a great big atlas that Joel had left behind, turned open on a page that showcased an image of the world. All the little squiggles and lines that made up the map of their great big earth, her soulmate must have resided within one of those faraway places. He couldn’t have been so close, on the tiny dot that represented the Isle of Ardor, it seemed impossible.

Now lost in thought about chances and percentages, the young woman paid no mind to the time that passed as she flipped through the large pages of the atlas. The sun was dipping low beneath the horizon, painting the skies with pinks, and oranges. She had yet to even make dinner when Joel had walked through the front door.

She stood quickly from her spot on the couch. As a habit, her tongue fumbled through the words that would leave her mouth whenever her father would return from work. 

“Welcome home.”

Joel paused in the doorway. His brows furrowed in confusion since by this time the woman was usually found locked in her bedroom. And typically, when one welcomes you home, you’re supposed to reply with some form of gratitude, at least this was custom to the Isle of Ardor. But Joel was at a loss for words. To have his new wife, ready and expectant of him was unfamiliar. Especially since she had granted no interest in him for the past few weeks.

“I forgot to make dinner.” She told him, seemingly desperate to fill the silence. Her tone was soft with apprehension, she looked like a timid little rabbit. “I’m sorry.”

Taking in her words, and the sight of her— chest heaving as she stood by the couch, almost as if she were caught in the act of something despicable— Joel soon realized that this was all an accident. He wasn’t meant to find her like this. She had only gotten lost within whatever activity she was currently indulging herself in. 

He caught sight of the atlas he left on the couch late last night. It was there since he was currently making plans for his upcoming fishing trip, but it was quickly forgotten once the threat of sleep had forced him to make his way back towards his bedroom. Was that what she was looking at? His lips parted with even more realization, if that was the case. He had a sneaking suspicion why she would be interested in a book like that. But he wasn’t about to ask her any incriminating questions.

“That’s alright.” He breathed, shutting the door behind him and foregoing any accusations he could potentially throw her way. “I can make something.”

“No, please.” She begged, as if guilt forced her back into the role of a doting wife. “You’ve had a long day. Allow me.”

She moved through the small living room of the house in long strides, headed towards the kitchen. She was determined to be the good wife she promised to be when she made her vows. Even if it was a lie at the time. Even if it still was as she planned for her escape.

As she brushed past Joel, her wrist was suddenly encased in a pool of unexpected warmth. His calloused fingers were wrapped firmly against her skin. In the month that they had been married, this was the first time he had ever touched her. Her heart lodged itself in her throat. Her gaze shifted so that she was staring wide-eyed up at her husband.

“Let me help you.” He murmured, his own eyes pleading her for something she was unsure of. 

“Okay.” She whispered, nodding her head slightly, since there was nothing else she could do.

Now here they were, standing in their humble kitchen, stove hot and burning as they both stood over the swirling pot of spices, vegetables and fish. This form of intimacy was unfamiliar to them. It was the closest they’ve been in weeks, and it felt far more vulnerable than it did when they stood across the aisle as they spoke their vows. Joel’s hand was gripped harshly against the wooden spoon as he stirred the contents of their stew. Y/N’s fingers were latched onto the salt shaker, her eyes trained on the little grain of bitter crystal that was lodged in one of the holes. 

“Here.” Joel practically whispered, holding up the spoon for his wife to taste. She glanced up at him through her lashes, hesitantly, before slowly leaning forward.

Her supple lips formed around the wood as she slurped at its contents. Joel shivered at the sight. He knew that his new wife was pretty, but seeing as she took his requests so willingly, was a sight to behold. Her lips seemed so plush, and the way her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks as she blew cold air across his offered taste, almost had him down on his knees. His adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed harshly against his dry throat, mind littered with filthy innuendos.

“How’s it taste?” He asked, his voice strained, forcing away the provocative thoughts that forged to the front of his mind.

Her brows furrowed in concentration as she held the flavor on her tongue. But soon a small grin flickered across her features. Joel’s stomach dipped at the sight. A feeling he hadn’t felt in years— maybe decades... maybe ever.

“It’s good.” She replied, wrapping her own smaller fingers around Joel’s hand as she brought the spoon up for a second taste. The touch of her hand was a shock, to say the least. It was only their second instance of skin contact and yet it was so much different than before. Only because it was her that was touching him. Willingly— no, purposefully. Embarrassingly enough, the surprise of it all was somehow too much for the older man. The spoon slipped from his grasp, clattering against the tile, splashing stew across the lower half of the surrounding cabinets, as well as the long hem of Y/N’s skirt. Joel took a large step back, the heat of shame licking up his neck to the tips of his ears.

“Sorry— I— Sorry.” He stammered, finishing his words somewhat lamely. He felt like a shy little school boy, he couldn’t even meet her gaze. It was humiliating. 

That was until he heard the sound of her laughter. Soft and tinkling, with no hint of malice. She wasn’t laughing at him, she wasn’t even laughing with him. It was more like she was laughing at the entire situation, or maybe at nothing in particular. He finally braved a glance up at her, to see those supple lips curled into a bright smile. His heart lurched at the sight.

She didn’t say anything. Didn’t acknowledge his fumbling apology, instead she shook her head slightly, rolling up the sleeves of her sweater, a smile still apparent on her face as she got to her knees and began to clean up the mess. She didn’t even worry about the splotches of blooming red that was scattered across the white fabric of her pretty skirt. She let it stain. Lasting proof of the very first dinner they shared as man and wife.

He served it up in heaping spoonfuls. Steam lazily swirling up from the hot meal, confined in ceramic bowls that Joel had pulled from the cabinets. After Y/N’s laughter had faded from the air, the only sound that graced their ears was that of spoons scraping against the stoneware as they savored their last bites.

No words were spoken as they sat at the kitchen table. And the woman couldn’t decide if it was awkward or not. She was never one to be deterred by the presence of silence, but she was curious if the man who now sat across from her was.

Not that he was a man of many words. He was silent in the very way he lived. His actions were always careful and well thought out. Maybe that’s why she hadn’t heard of him before their betrothal. You don’t turn the cogs of the rumor mill if you keep to yourself. Which is what Joel seemed to do. 

So maybe he liked the silence. Y/N decided she did as well. 

Though it was finally broken when they stood at the kitchen sink, Joel was washing the dishes while Y/N dried— All serenaded by the sound of running water and clanking utensils. That was all it was until his words filtered in through the white noise.

“I’m leavin’ tomorrow.” He told her, eyes trained on the tiny soap bubbles attaching themselves to the skin of his hands. They were iridescent in their color. The distraction of it left the furrow between Y/N’s brows unknown. She wondered where on earth he could possibly be going. But the question was soon answered as he continued.

“It’s the first fishin’ trip of the season. Gonna be gone for a week or two.” He explained. Her mouth formed around a silent ‘ah’ as understanding dawned on her.

Fishing expeditions were always a big spectacle in this little town. Caught in glimpses on her way to school, Y/N always observed the teary-eyed farewells passed between the fishermen and their families. Hands up in the air in enthusiastic waves of goodbye as the ship drew further out to sea, becoming a small insignificant dot and then turning into nothing against the horizon. 

She liked the return days far better. They always seemed much happier when loving arms wrapped around trembling shoulders, a warm embrace to signify how grateful the fishermen were to be brought home safe and unharmed. It was one of the few times this island lived up to its name. 

And now the woman was left wondering if Joel expected her to become one of the teary-eyed family members waiting down by the docks. 

“What time are you leaving?” She asked, carefully setting down the bowl that resided in her hands, it clinked against the wooden countertop.

“Early.” He replied, his large fingers hooking around the faucet lever, shutting off the constant stream of water. In its absence, the silence was louder and the same could be said of that deep voice of his. “Don’t worry. I’ll try not to wake you when I leave.”

So now the question was answered. He didn’t expect anything from her. Just like he said that very first night. It was still a foreign concept for her. She wasn’t sure if she truly believed it. 

Though the belief finally found her when she woke up late the next morning, the sun deep in the sky, shining bright over her bed and warming her skin. She laid there for a minute, staring up at the ceiling as she considered the quiet state of the house. It was silent now more than ever. Left without the sound of Joel’s familiar footsteps as well as a final goodbye.

~

The time spent alone in the little house was surprisingly dreary. 

At first— once the realization that she had the house to herself settled in, the woman was ecstatic. She had never been left to her own devices before. Usually she would have to cheat her way out of the ever-present company of her family, just for five minutes of precious solitude. Now she had hours of it— days of it. It was exhilarating. It was freeing. It was… lonely.

And maybe just a little bit scary, as she curled under her sheets at night, unable to explain away the creaks that filtered in from under her door now that Joel was gone. 

Joel.

The absence of him presented Y/N with the unexpected discovery that he was a form of comfort that surrounded the walls of this house. Almost as if he were the protector of this hearth. And now that he was gone, the little noises she heard at night shifted into dark threatening creatures within the confines of Y/N’s overactive imagination.  

She cursed herself for her sudden lack of backbone. 

However, the daytime was somehow worse. Because at least during the night, her fear would soon subside once the calming tendrils of sleep coaxed Y/N back into her dreams. But during the day, when she was sitting on that squeaky porch swing, boredom would be the next thing to burden her. And there was nothing she could do to alleviate herself from it. 

There were only so many books in Joel’s collection. Only so many rooms that were left to explore (excluding the master bedroom of course). And only so many activities that she could think to do to distract herself. So as she sat there aimlessly, swinging back and forth under a late afternoon sun, it dawned on her that she was most entertained when navigating this new delicate life that she shared with Joel.

Which eventually brought her to the greater realization that it wasn’t fear or boredom that caused the ache that burned low in her stomach. No, it was the fact of the matter that she had simply missed Joel. One might describe that ache as yearning. But Y/N would definitely not be the one to do so. So she ignored the feeling.

She ignored it until it was replaced with the growing buzz of anticipation when the day of Joel’s return finally arrived. 

Excited whispers were passed from mouth to ear as everyone spoke about the ship's return. Y/N had caught a conversation while perusing the pitted-fruits at the market, relaying the information that the boat was set to dock later that evening. And as she quickly returned the contents that resided in her basket— replacing it with enough ingredients for a meal made for two rather than one— Y/N wondered if she was perhaps sharing in the excitement that took over the small island.

Which would be very odd, for she never once felt united with her fellow townspeople, and she could hardly believe that she was excited to see the man she was forced to marry. Though the oddest thing was, (and this was still unbeknownst to the young woman herself) was that she hadn’t thought of her underlying desire to escape, whatsoever. Not even once while she was left alone for the past two weeks, which by all means would have been the perfect time to plan her getaway. But the notion was completely lost to her mind as she hurriedly made her way back home so that she could start on dinner.

It was a sight to behold.

Later that evening, as Joel stood in the entranceway, limbs overtired from his harsh venture out to sea, he thought he was hallucinating. The last thing he expected when he walked through that door was to be met with the image of his wife, looking oh-so pretty in a light blue dress, waiting eagerly by a table full of food. The whole scene of it was washed in a golden light from candles set across the room. It was set to look like a dream. Was he dreaming?

He had thought their dinner the night before he left would be the last one. In fact, he had thought that would be the last time he'd ever see her. 

Joel wasn’t an oblivious man. He knew how she felt about this whole arrangement. It was obvious in the way she would avoid looking at him when they had first met. And even if he couldn’t see the hatred she harbored for him within her irises, the woman wore her heart on her sleeve. He could see her indignation in the way she huffed around the house and stomped her way into the garden. Which was all made much more confusing when she started leaving him hot meals after his work was finished by the dock. He didn’t anticipate such a kind gesture from her.

She was a mystery. But he supposed she leaned more towards the side of completely hating his guts as she was still bent on avoiding him those first couple of weeks into their marriage.

Not that he could blame the woman. He only said yes to her father’s proposition because the man looked so desperate. He was practically down on his knees. And Joel couldn’t say he wasn’t enticed by the idea of not having to return to an empty home any longer. 

But Joel wasn’t attached to the idea of their marriage. 

So if she wanted to avoid him, he would grant her the space she needed. If she wanted to huff at him in anger whenever their paths did cross, he would take the onslaught. And if she wanted to escape into the night, never to be heard from again, who was he to try and stop her?

In the meantime, he would enjoy the meals she left for him.

Then came the night when she decided to share it with him. Sure, it was an accident. And the entire encounter was fumbling and awkward. But it sparked a small bout of warmth deep within his chest. 

He supposed that feeling was hope. Or at least that was the conclusion he came to as he was rocked to sleep by the ebbing waves underneath his ship. He had felt hope before, it’s been a long time, but he knew what it was. That’s all it could ever be. But what was he hoping for?

Hope that this could be something more than a marriage certificate? Hope that she would stick around, at least for a few more weeks? Hope that he would see her face amongst the crowd as their ship pulled back into the dock?

When he didn’t see her, the warmth was lost to him. And in its absence that’s when he knew that’s exactly what it was. Without that flame of hope, he was now shrouded in darkness just like he knew his house would be when he returned under the setting sun.

So he was not expecting this. Not at all. 

“You’re here.” He said, the words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them. A little line appeared between her two brows as confusion riddled her features.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She asked, head tilting with the question.

“I don’t know. I just… thought that maybe you’d be gone.” He replied, shaking his own head slightly as he admitted his suspicion out loud.

Busted. 

Y/N’s shoulders tensed as the words hung in the air between them. She should have known that he’d catch on to her plans, she wasn’t usually the type to be subtle with her grievances. But there was a twinge in her stomach at his admittance. The one thing he expected of her was exactly the one thing she wanted. And he would’ve let it happen. The hidden honesty in his words coerced the same thing from her own lips.

“I thought the same thing.” She confessed, a small bashful smile forming on her lips. The corners of Joel's mouth twitched up into a fleeting smile. It was gone within seconds. But the gleam of it still shone within the depths of his brown irises.

Then he offered her a small understanding nod. And that was all that was needed. The flame of hope flickered on.

They both took their seats and ate the homemade dinner in comfortable silence.

~

The same fragile routine had now taken place every night since then. As soon as Joel would return home from the docks, he would be greeted by the sight of Y/N chopping up the chosen vegetable for that night. If he came home early enough, there would still be certain tasks that needed to be finished, and she never complained when he would step in beside her with freshly washed hands— the sleeves of his flannel rolled further up his forearms— ready to help. 

He liked those times the most. There was something serene in the way they moved around the kitchen together, as if they were living proof of perfect harmony. So most days, Joel would finish the menial tasks at work as quickly as he possibly could to return home before she finished cooking. He was greedy for more of these interactions to hold under his belt. And he would always be slightly disappointed whenever he found the table already set. Though that grievance wouldn’t last long as he was soon greeted by Y/N’s smile, that seemed to be getting brighter with each passing day. 

Unfortunately for Y/N, she was not granted with the same reassurance. 

As it turns out, Joel was a brick wall of a man, which was a fact he was completely unaware of. So his expressions of contentedness were lost on the woman. She wasn’t observant enough to notice how he would return home from work earlier and earlier each day. Or to catch on to the way his eyes would linger on her while they silently ate their dinner. 

What she did notice was how he never smiled. It was as if he never learned how to. Maybe he had been a sad little baby from the moment he was born. Or perhaps he did know how to smile, and he just never had a reason to. Not even now. Not even with her. 

Which, to be honest, was a punch in the gut for the young woman, since she had been finding so much joy during the times they shared together. 

She tried to be rational, because Joel had always been a very unemotional man. But Y/N’s brain always kicked into overdrive whenever she was left alone with her thoughts, and it always boiled down to the conclusion that perhaps Joel just didn’t like her very much. 

Oh, how the tables have turned. One minute she detested the man she was betrothed to and in the next she lapped up any attention he had gifted her like a small pathetic puppy. She was desperate to know more about the man. What was it that made him smile? Who was he? What were his interests? What was he like as a child?

And why on earth would his first wife ever leave him?

She had found out the answer to that— as well as caught her first glimpse of the surprising range of his emotions— all in the same night. 

There was a storm that evening. Dark and unrelenting as the onslaught of rain pounded against the roof of their quaint little house. Big bolts of lighting hung low in the sky, illuminating the world in small fractions of time. The thunder rolling deep on its heel. 

Joel was hours late. The dinner that sat on the table was ice cold. Though that fact was unnoticed by the woman, as she paced the distance of the kitchen, her bones wracked with worry. This was the perfect example of how her mind kicked into overdrive in times of distress. She assumed the worst. 

She imagined Joel dead, left unbreathing, body lost under treacherous waves. 

Panic quickened the beat of her heart. Any efforts she made to calm herself fell flat. Reason and rationality were lost to her completely. All she could do was to keep moving her feet. 

Back and forth. Back and forth.

Until her feet took her further. Soft footsteps rang out against the floor of the living room and then up the stairs. They paced the length of the hallway a few times until the woman found herself stationed in front of the door to the master bedroom.

Her hand had somehow found itself gripped around the cool metal of the doorknob. 

When she twisted it, the door swung open with ease. 

It was easy for Y/N to dismiss her worries when it was replaced by a burning curiosity. She stood at the precipice of his bedroom, eyes flickering over every surface. 

There was a large bed that sat in the middle of the room, left untidy by the man who stumbled out of it early that morning. The image of his large form tangled in the sheets flickered to the front of her mind, before she forced herself to focus on the next part of the room.

There was a bay window, looking out over the back garden. The bench underneath it was adorned with countless throw pillows, a detail that must have been added by his previous wife. Joel didn’t seem to be the type to appreciate that type of decor. A weird surge of jealousy was added to the other emotions she was already riddled with that evening. It burned bright behind her sternum. 

But then her gaze roamed over the bookshelf that towered over the rest of the room. It resided next to a door, but what could potentially be hidden behind it wasn’t what had her feet moving deeper into the room. (Since it was most likely a bathroom, anyways.)

It was a picture.

Sat on one of the middle shelves of the bookshelf. It was framed in an intricate engraved pattern of gold-painted wood, a happy memory captured in black and white. 

Frozen in time was the image of a young girl— most likely not even reaching double digits in her age. Her smile was bright and somewhat stubborn as she grinned up at her from the frame. She had dark skin and soft eyes that reminded the woman of Joel. Her hair framed her face in disorderly curls, tousled by the seabreeze. Y/N smiled softly at the wild look that sparked in the girl's irises, as if ready for any adventure that would be thrown her way. She ran a finger over the smooth glass, like she could caress the girl's face in her own hands.

“What are you doing?”

It wasn’t the words themselves that caused the woman to drop the picture, but rather the rage that was intertwined within them. Her eyes snapped up to find Joel standing in the door, backlit from the light in the hallway. His brown hair was matted against the skin of his forehead, soaked by the heavy rain. The rest of it dripped off of his clothes as they clung to his skin, creating a puddle around his boot-clad feet. 

The glass of the frame shattered once it hit the floor. 

“Who told you, you could come in here?” He seethed, reaching her in just a few long strides. She cowered against the bookshelf in his advancement but the collision never came. He bent towards the ground, large hands shifting through the broken glass.

“I-I’m sorry.” Y/N stammered, dropping down to help him. He pushed her hands away.

“Don’t.” He snapped. 

“Why would you do this?” He then added, his words were harsh. He looked up at her, his eyes were dark with his wrath. A small pathetic sound squeaked out of her throat, she shook her head, unable to find the words.

And then the next thing she knew, she was running. Was it the anger that caused her to run? Or perhaps her own embarrassment. She didn’t know. But the sudden invasion of his unconventional display of emotion had become all too much. The same feet that carried her towards the master bedroom brought her out into the garden.

Y/N barely realized where she was until she registered the harsh rain that bombarded her skin, her hair and clothes instantly soaked as she ventured out among the overgrown weeds. Her legs didn’t stop until her palms wrapped around the familiar wood of the porch swing she spent so much of her time with. Her shoulders shook with shame, cursing herself inwardly for her intrusiveness. 

And then… Somehow, through the howling wind, Y/N had heard her name. 

She whipped her head towards the house to see that Joel had followed her. He charged through the storm, through the vegetation that whipped wildly in the wind, until he reached her. She expected more of his anger.

Instead she was met with two large hands cupping her cheeks.

“Are you hurt?” He asked over the raging of the storm, before she could make any questions of her own.

“I— what?” She faltered, her hands instinctively moving up to caress the skin of his wrists.

“Are you alright?” He repeated himself with new words, his brown eyes flickering over each feature of her face, as if he was making sure each part of her was still there. 

“It’s only rain. Of course I’m alright.” She answered, a bit impatiently. Did he really think so little of her and her competence?

“You certain?” He asked, and that’s when Y/N took notice of the panic that resided in his brown irises. His breathing was dissonant and in a sense, frightened. This was something else entirely.

“Joel.” She said her tone shifted drastically from annoyance to something much softer. But his movements were still frantic as he searched her for any injuries.

“Joel!” She said again, louder this time, hoping to gain his attention. When she didn’t, Y/N tightened her grip around the wrist of his right hand, and shifted it towards her beating heart. She hoped he could feel the proof of her life that thrummed against the skin of her chest. 

The evidence of her heartbeat calmed Joel down, his breathing evened out.

“I’m fine.” She murmured, tilting her chin to kiss the palm of his left hand. She was unsure of what brought her to do it, but it seemed to help as Joel then pulled her into his chest, his strong arms wrapping around her shoulders. He sighed once he felt her weight against him.

“I’m alright.” She reiterated into his soaked flannel. His arms wound tighter around her.

And then they were back inside. To her objection, he had made her take a shower, to extinguish any chill that the rain might have instilled in her bones. She almost got away with not taking one until her chattering teeth proved her otherwise. He had given her such a demanding look that she had no other choice but to do as he said. 

So once she was showered and dressed in warm pajamas, (and once he did the same). They were now sitting in the living room. Her knees were curled up to her chest as she sat on the couch, Joel’s feet were solid against the patterned rug that sat beneath them, in an armchair angled directly in front of her. Their usual silence had found them again. Was it comfortable or not? Y/N had yet to find out. Joel broke it before she could.

“I’m sorry.” He told her, his cheeks pink with shame and his eyes averted to the ground. She shook her head in defiance to his apology, even though she knew he couldn’t see her.

“No, it was my—” She tried to counter. But he pursed his lips, causing her to promptly keep her mouth shut.

“I shouldn’t’ve yelled at you like that.” He said after a brief pause.

“It was well deserved.” Y/N admitted, lifting her shoulders in a shrug. “I shouldn’t have entered your room.”

Joel shook his head the same way she did, only slightly, but Y/N caught it.

“It was about time, anyways.” He commented. She resisted the urge to pry for more, cause she knew that eventually he would indulge in her curiosities. And he did.

“She was my daughter.” He murmured, knuckles white from his grip on the arms of the plush leather chair he was sitting upon.

“The girl. In the picture.” Joel clarified when he was met with her silence. But Y/N already knew that. Her silence to his explanation was due to the word he used. Was.

She repeated it out loud, in the form of a question. 

A sigh escaped Joel's lips, he leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees. He still wouldn’t meet Y/N’s gaze.

“Do you remember that storm twelve years ago?” Joel questioned, his palm running over his forehead as he prepared himself to tell this story. Y/N responded with a soft ‘yes.’ It was a horrible, outrageous storm that caused so much damage to their little town. So much loss and heartache that hung over the island, even to this day. She was fifteen years old. The fear of it all was still present in her memories.

“Well, my daughter… Sarah. She…” His voice cracked, he dragged in a shuddering breath. “Somehow she got outside. Debris from the old farmhouse across the street was picked up by the wind. Pierced right through her—” 

A sharp sob interrupted his sentence. Y/N wasted no time. She pushed up from her spot on the couch and was on her knees, sitting in front of him in a moment's notice. Her hands were splayed across his own thick thighs, she squeezed her digits around the muscles in reassurance. He didn’t need to say anything more. The picture was painted.

“She was nine years old.” Joel whispered into the hand that was still hiding his features, finding the courage to speak more about it once he felt her touch through the fabric of his pajama pants. “Nine years old, and she lost her life.”

And now everything was clear. It made sense why he was so scared for her life out there in the garden. He had experienced a loss like that before. A cruel twist of fate that took the life of his daughter. Right in his front yard.

“I wish every day that it was me instead of her.” He admitted, more sobs wracking through his body, large shoulders shaking.

It was peculiar to see him like this. Usually he was such a vision of strength, but now that these emotions were presented to Y/N, everything made so much more sense. He was hiding himself. Scared of more loss, if he opened his heart up to anyone else. This was only more confirmed as he continued.

“My wife— My first wife, she couldn't handle the loss of our daughter.” Joel relayed, “I don’t think she was happy with me. Not until Sarah was born. And once she was gone… She didn’t have a reason to stay…”

His words died in the air after that. But yet again there was no need to continue. Y/N understood. And all she could do was shift her hands so that her arms were now wrapped around his neck. She pulled Joel in as close as she could, her waist now fitted between his thighs. He clutched onto her in return, fingers gripping into her nightgown. His head resting in the crook of her neck, mouth pressed against the tendon. 

“I won’t leave you.” Y/N whispered into his hair, still damp from the recent shower. 

She wasn’t exactly sure what brought her to say those words, but once they were hanging in the air she knew them to be true. And she knew he did too once she felt his lips form into a distinguishable kiss against her skin. It was faint, but the spark of it lingered, and it changed everything.

~

A few months had passed since the night of the storm and a lot had changed for the woman, at least inwardly. But their routine? It was all the same. They would make dinner, share in their comfortable silence (sometimes punctuated with lighthearted conversation) and then they’d return to their separate bedrooms. Every. Single. Night. Nothing more, nothing less.

It was a bit frustrating to say the least. 

And then he would leave every few weeks, on a venture out at sea. Where he would be gone for days at a time. And of course, she would miss him terribly. But would Y/N accompany him to the docks whenever he would leave? No. Would she ever be there to greet him home? Also no.

So it was safe to say that the blame was partially on her. Which frustrated the woman even further, because now she couldn’t even rely on the fact that the indifference was all one sided. Her actions apparently proved otherwise.

But what was it that she wanted to change? Maybe she expected their conversations to be much lengthier now that they had crossed the boundaries of hidden grievances. Or maybe she expected him to extend an invitation to sleep in his bedroom, now that they had participated in small instances of physical touch. Whatever it was, Y/N only knew one thing.

It had seemed they were still stuck at square one.

And with every one step forward there were three steps back. Not so long ago they were so close, lips against skin in the quiet of their living room. Safe in each other's arms as the storm raged on. But now? There was nothing. 

She resented the fact that she was falling into the wants and desires of the common Ardorian townsman. It all seemed very mundane against the aspirations she held close to her heart before she was married. But as she stewed in these feelings— especially during the times that Joel was away— she wondered if these desires were just part of the human experience. Perhaps they were even the desires that came with the burning passionate love she yearned for…

Now that she knew what it felt like. It all seemed so natural. You meet the one who befuddles your heart and soul and all you want is… more, more, more.

Would she ever get what she was hoping for?

Maybe she could, if she was brave enough. 

The opportunity presented itself the eve of Joel’s next expedition. 

He had gotten home early that day, so he was around to help finish up dinner. Y/N remembered being unable to look away as his large hands sliced each potato that needed to be added to the pot. He was attentive with his actions, just as he always was. She was jealous of the knife that resided gently in his grasp. Heat burned under her cheeks at her desperation.

Of course every detail of her wants and needs went unnoticed by Joel. Everything about their usual marital customs went off without a hitch, why should he think anything different could happen?

They ate their meal in silence. They cleaned up after themselves, as always. And then they slowly made their way up the stairs, just like they did every night. 

Joel stopped on the landing at the top. Y/N followed his actions. This wasn’t unusual, the same thing happened on every eve of his long departures. He stood, towering above her, she looked up at him with hopeful eyes.

“I’ll be gone before you wake up.” He told her, his voice gruff. She nodded, once. Simple and to the point. Just like always.

Joel nodded back in confirmation and then turned to go, like a captain dismissing his subordinate. It was all very formal. Almost passionless, which was such a great contradiction to what the young woman was feeling inside of her chest. She was just about ready to burst. So even though she wasn’t exactly intending on doing so— she wasn’t surprised when her hand shot out to clasp her fingers around his wrist, stopping him before he disappeared into the secret confines of his bedroom. 

“You okay?” Joel asked, once he was facing her again. His eyebrows were furrowed in concern, but that wasn’t the way she wanted him to look at her. She shook her head, but it wasn’t an answer to his question. It was more like she was trying to tell him that that was the wrong thing to ask. Or rather, the wrong thing to do. 

“What’s wrong?” He inquired. 

As it turned out, Joel was not a mind-reader. And since Y/N was too afraid to speak out loud about any of her desires, she did the next thing she could think of. 

Her hands moved to grasp firmly against the lapels of his flannel. The floorboards beneath her creaked as she shifted onto her toes. She pulled Joel closer— closer than he’s ever been. She squeezed her eyes shut— almost like she was terrified when really this was all she wanted— and then before either of them knew it, she slotted her mouth against his own in a fervid kiss.

Joel stilled under the soft touch of her lips, surprised by the action, heart thrumming in his chest as he wondered if this was real. But the hesitation only lasted a split second before he reciprocated her kiss, leaning into her. The eagerness of which had caused their bodies to shift so that Y/N’s back was against the wall. She gasped against his lips, the grip on his shirt loosening.

He pulled away, but only slightly. His nose brushed against hers as he searched her eyes for any protests. He only found her pupils blown out with lust, paired with an indiscernible nod, a concession to keep going. 

In an instant, his large hands were now cupping her face, calluses rough on her skin but she didn’t mind— in fact she relished in it. Her fingers twisted into his shirt once again as he traced her bottom lip with his tongue, pulling another soft gasp from her. He used that to his advantage, slipping his tongue against hers. She whimpered at the taste of him, earning a groan that rumbled deep in Joel’s chest, each of her sweet sounds causing an involuntary twitch from behind the zipper of his pants. 

Joel was becoming more eager, selfish for more of that saccharine sound, his hands started to inch downwards. Smoothing over the curve of her neck, following the path of her shoulders, trailing down her arms, until his hands rested near the small of her back. He pulled her in closer, away from the wall. His fingers clutched onto the fabric of her dress. In a haze, he gathered more and more of the cotton within his hands, unknowingly exposing Y/N’s skin as he did.

She shivered as the back of her thighs met the frigid air, and soon almost the curve of her ass. It brought more attention to the heat that was pooling between her legs— A more intense version of a feeling that she’s only felt a few times before. It was harsh and greedy and it only grew stronger as Joel detached himself from her lips.

A whine spilled over her tongue at the loss, but all was forgiven when he began to press ardent kisses to the skin of her neck. She arched her back into his large frame, bringing notice to her nipples pebbling under the lace of her bra, another moan escaped her lips. He returned the noise with his own grunt of pleasure as his beard scratched against her supple skin. Suddenly she was aware of every single part of him. 

His lips sucking softly at the skin just below her jawline. His flannel-clad chest was strong and solid underneath her hands, heartbeat pulsing into her palms. His own larger hands pulled her closer between every groan that vibrated through his throat. And then there was the hard heat of him pressed against her lower stomach.

The sign of his arousal had caused an ache so deep within her core that it shocked her. It was new and exciting, but it was overwhelming and it made her afraid of the strength that her desires possessed. The burn of shame licked white hot against her skin. 

Joel— unaware of her inner turmoil as his lips kissed against the tendons in her neck— was given quite a shock when her hands pushed him away with surprising strength. He stumbled backwards, back hitting the other wall of the hallway. His eyes were wide and fearful that he did something wrong. Cheeks splotched a pretty color of pink and his lips swollen from her kiss.

Y/N covered her face with her hands, embarrassment and immense arousal caused her shoulders to tremble.

“I’m sorry.” She squeaked between her fingers, “Um, Thank you for… that, but I should…”

She backed away as she spoke, her sentence unfinished as she quickly escaped through the door to her bedroom. It slammed shut, abrasive in the action itself. 

Joel stood with his back flush against the wall and a harsh strain against his zipper as he stared dumbfounded at the wood of her closed door.

~

Her humiliation kept her within the boundaries of her room the entire morning that next day, refusing to step even one foot out into the rest of the house until she knew Joel was gone. The sounds of his footsteps came and went just like they did every time he left for the docks. But Y/N’s dread seemed to have projected itself into the way time moved.

It felt like ages before he was actually gone, almost to the point where it felt like he was dragging his feet, hesitating to go. Like he was waiting for something to happen.

But that couldn’t have been the case, because Joel had his morning routine down to an art. So Y/N was convinced it was her own hallucination that caused time to move at such a snail’s pace.

Once the sound of the front door swinging shut rattled the foundation of their home, Y/N finally allowed herself to breathe. Just his very presence within this house— even separated by walls and other rooms— had such a strong effect on her that she couldn’t let herself recount the events of last night until she was certain she was completely alone. 

And once those images returned to the forefront of her mind, she immediately pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. 

Though that only made the memory of it stronger through the stars that burst behind her eyelids from the hard press of her hands. A frustrated whine escaped her lips as she squirmed in her sheets. The movement of it caused her to take notice of the slick pooling in her panties, ever present since the first touch of Joel’s lips.  

She rubbed her thighs together, trying to relieve some of the ache (though of course her efforts fell flat). 

How was this at all possible? How was Joel able to pull such aggressive lust from just one single heated interaction? 

Maybe it was because no one had ever touched her like that before.

The awkward, clumsy kisses she had shared with others in the past couldn’t hold a candle to what Joel had done to her. Forgotten was the memory of her very first kiss, which was frail and timid like a wounded bird. Or those later in life which were nice and gentle, but nothing special. Those moments of her past were now replaced by a roaring beast of want and desire. Joel had made her feel like the world had shifted on its axis, that he shifted it himself with his own two calloused hands. Just for her. And that was only with the touch of his lips. What else was he capable of doing? 

The sheets rustled under Y/N’s weight as she quickly sat up in bed, regret stirring deep in her belly. She just realized— what with the way she reacted last night— she may never be able to find out. It was such a monumental milestone for their steady forming relationship and she had ended it by pushing him away and leaving him behind in the dark shadows of the hallway. She hadn’t even spared a glance in his direction, his reaction to her abrupt dismissal will remain forever unknown.

Or at least until he returns home.

But that wouldn’t be for another three days. Sure, luck was on the girls side since it was on the shorter side of his usual expeditions. But seventy-two hours left a lot of room for her overactive imagination to run rampant. 

And she was now stewing on the outlandish conclusion that based on her reaction Joel would never want to touch her again. The frustration of that notion followed her throughout her morning.

It prickled at her skin as she stood in the shower, the hot water not doing enough to wash it away. Her skin was practically rubbed raw by the time she stepped out into the steamy bathroom, her hopes to scrub away her humiliation going down the drain, along with the lavender scented soap bubbles. 

It caused her hands to shake, as she tugged the soft green fabric of her favorite dress over her head, the skirt of it swirling around her ankles as it fell into place. Y/N had thought if she wore her favorite clothing item that she might feel better about the whole situation.

But it didn’t help.

In fact, none of the aspects of her usual morning routine had helped her calm her beating heart, or her racing mind, or even the arousal between her legs— that, yes, was still there despite her forcing away any reminder of how it felt to have Joel’s lips on her skin.

She now stood at the kitchen counter, her eyes clenched shut as she begged her brain to conjure up any other image. But that just brought up a confusing mixture of childhood memories intertwined with the heavy sound of Joel’s breathing in her ear. Which made her feel shameful as she felt so much more different than the young restless girl she was back then. Was this the loss of her innocence? She supposed it was.

But then again, she was married to Joel. And these feelings were quite expected for a wife to feel towards her husband. There was no reason for her to feel ashamed by these thoughts, especially if they seemed reciprocated— brought forth by the evidence she felt last night pressing against her stomach.

The reminder brought heat up to her cheeks and that very same ache deep in her core when she had first felt it. 

Y/N breathed in the air around her, dragging it into her lungs, pushing it out in a heavy wistful sigh. A flash of Joel’s hands flitted across her mind. Goosebumps littered her skin as she recalled the way his fingertips felt on the skin between her neck and shoulder. 

Subconsciously she brought her own fingers to that very same spot. Tilting her head, she dragged her fingernails over her skin in slow circles, causing shivers to run up and down the length of her spine. She imagined how Joel’s hand was soon replaced by the soft touch of his lips, and her hand moved to her collarbone, a place she wished he had discovered with his tongue. Another sigh left her lips as her imagination replaced her hand with Joel’s. Her eyes were closed again, softer this time as she conjured up the fantasy.

Lips against skin. Hands wandering. Breathing heavy.

Though the tantalizing image soon vanished into the air like a bubble popping, when the sound of the front door slamming shut rang out through the tiny house. A gasp slipped from between her lips as she whipped around towards the intrusion. Her palm flush against her chest to calm her beating heart.

The sight of Joel standing in the doorway knocked the air out of Y/N’s lungs. It was as if her improper thoughts had manifested him to be standing right there in front of her. The curls of his hair were askew, as if he had been running his fingers through it, over and over. His large chest was heaving with slow heavy breaths, the same way her own chest was moving. 

He swallowed, the adam's apple in his throat bobbing. He shook his head slightly, his brows furrowed, and then he looked back towards the door he just walked through. As if he hadn’t realized where he came from or what he was doing.

“Joel?” She questioned, her tone was breathless, desperate for something to fill the silence and tension that was slowly forming between them.

“’m sorry.” He breathed, when he turned back to her, his eyes shining with something that Y/N couldn’t quite place. Was it surprise? Curiosity? “Didn’t mean to scare ya.”

“What are you doing here?” She asked, somehow feeling brave enough to take a step forward. “I thought you were leaving on your trip?”

“I was— or I am.” He stumbled through the words. “It just got delayed for a couple hours. There were some last minute repairs needed on the ship…”

“And you had enough time to come back?” She questioned.

Joel paused, swallowing again. His eyes scaled over Y/N, taking in the look that resided behind her irises, the way she was breathing heavily, and how that green dress caressed her curves. She looked like she had just been caught in the act of something inappropriate, despite her just standing in the kitchen. An endeavor that was innocent in and of itself. But— god— the look of her, standing there in the golden light streaming in from the window above the sink, she looked downright sinful. Or maybe that was his own lust taking control and projecting itself onto her.

A lust that had kept him on edge this entire morning. Throughout the night too, when he was restless in his bed— remembering what happened between them— tossing and turning like the ocean tide. It never relented, so much so that when Tommy told him they had a few extra hours, Joel’s feet were already moving back towards his truck so that he could spend that time with Y/N. In this house. And even though he told himself to behave when he walked through the front door, It persisted. Even now as he stood in front of her, taking in the sight of her blown out pupils, eyes darkened with what he hoped was that very same lust. 

“I forgot somethin’” He then said, as he realized she was still expecting an answer. “Had to come back to get it.”

“Oh… alright.” She replied, blinking as if she were just pulled from a trance. “What was it? I can help you look for it.”

Joel shook his head, deliberately this time. He took a step forward, the tension growing thicker as he did. His brown eyes held her stare. “I know where it is.”

His words were soft as they rolled off his tongue, causing an involuntary shiver to forge its way through Y/N’s bones. It was much more forceful than what she had felt under her own touch, only a few minutes prior. Joel must have taken notice of the effect that his voice had over her body, as he dragged in a low shuddering breath.

He took another step forward. And then another. And another, until he joined her in the kitchen, standing right in front of her, their chests only centimeters apart. Y/N had to tilt her head up to be able to look him in the eye. Which she was shocked she was brave enough to do, considering how he looked like he wanted to devour her.

“What are you doing?” She whispered, her eyes flicking down to his mouth as Joel dragged his tongue over his bottom lip. The sight of it was magnetic, pulling her in so that her chest was now brushing against his with every breath. 

“Tell me to stop.” He said, his voice in that same hushed tone. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

Y/N, defiant in her own nature, replied. “What was it that you forgot?”

“I didn’t forget anythin’.” Joel told her, honestly, his fingers moving to pinch at a piece of her flowing skirt. As if the small action would keep her right there in front of him. Where he was desperate to have her. Hoping that it would keep her in place instead of having her running away like last time. 

“It’s more like…” He continued, tilting his head down so that his forehead rested against hers. She gasped at the skin contact, relief flooding her form as she quickly realized his touch wasn’t lost to her like she had feared. “Somethin’ I regret not doin’.”

“And what do you regret, Mr. Miller?” She murmured, her eyes averted to the floor beneath their feet. The surname fell out of her mouth unexpectedly, as if garnering his respect would grant her the knowledge of his secret.

“Well, Mrs. Miller…” The reminder that she shared that very surname with him by holy matrimony caused a jolt of surprise to coarse through her veins. But it was replaced with satisfaction soon enough. She marveled at the fact that she wasn’t exactly bothered by the concept, in fact she almost relished in it. And then Joel said his next words.

 “I can show you exactly what that is… if you’ll let me.”

She didn’t have it in her to speak. Any reply that she could’ve had was lost in the back of her throat. All she could do was to nod eagerly, any shame she could’ve had at her desperation was tossed out the window.

“I need you to use your words.” Joel said in response to her movements, his voice hoarse as if he were holding himself back and the action of doing so was terribly difficult. 

“I— Yes… please, Joel.” She whispered, her breath fanning across his cheeks. “I want you to show me.”

This time, Joel was the first to bring their lips together in a zealous kiss. The green fabric that resided between his forefinger and thumb was soon shifted to be gripped by his hands as he pulled her in. Their bodies were now flushed together. The softness of her breasts pushing into the solid form of his chest. Simultaneous sighs of relief intermingled on their tongues when they finally let themselves melt into one another.

Y/N gasped into his mouth when his teeth nipped at the plush skin of her bottom lip. She had already known how brash he was with his movements from their kiss last night, but now it seemed as if all of his inhibitions were lost to him, his hands now smoothing over the curve of her ass. Joel’s fingers gripped at the supple flesh through her dress, pulling her waist into his own. 

She moaned at his touch, as well as the sign of his arousal digging into her hip. Her arms shifted to wrap around his broad shoulders, her fingers digging into the muscles on his back, urging him to move closer, if that were even possible. 

And in this instance, she wasn’t disappointed by the loss of his lips, because he was quick to replace them somewhere else on her skin. It was as if he had to kiss every inch of her before he moved on to undiscovered territory. Joel’s lips were kissing at the corners of her lips, and the apples of her cheeks before he moved down to her jawline. 

Though this was where he became more selfish in his actions, nipping at the skin so he could hear the sweet little whimpers that would waver from between her lips. Then he would lick over the bruised skin, soothing her of the slight pain he might’ve caused, heart hammering at the soft sighs of satisfaction she gifted him. Joel groaned at the sounds she made, relishing in the glory of every moan, whine and sigh. He could feel as he grew harder against the strain of his pants, the pain of it almost too much to bear. But this wasn’t about him. Instead, it had everything to do with the woman arching into his lips.

Thick fingers curled around the square neckline of Y/N’s lovely dress, knuckles brushing against her sternum as he tugged down at the fabric. A sharp gasp rang out into the air as her sleeves slid down her arms, allowing the exposure of her nipples to cold morning air, already hardened by her arousal to the man committing these actions. The flesh of her breasts bouncing slightly from the momentum in which he moved. 

Joel pulled his mouth away from her, eager to get a look.

Y/N could feel herself flush under his stare, suddenly shy as he drank in this new image of her. She wanted to look away and hide in her self-consciousness, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of his dilated pupils and the endearing shade of pink that tinted his cheekbones. A burning need was flashing across his brown irises, the sight of it sparking an odd sense of confidence in the woman. She straightened her shoulders, letting him look at her. Because he would be the only man who would ever get to see her like this. 

He groaned again, at the sight of her perked nipples paired with her newfound boldness.

“S’ pretty.” He mumbled, smoothing a large hand up over her breast, he could feel the pebbled skin pricking into his rough palm. She hummed at the compliment as well as his touch. Though a second later it was replaced with a harsh ‘ah’— pulled from her lips when his hand shifted so that he could pinch at her nipple. 

It was the most torturous form of pleasure she had ever felt in her life. That was until he guided her body until she could feel the kitchen table digging into her lower back. His free hand gripped at the flesh under her ass, lifting her up and making it so that she was now sat against the surface. With her now stationary on the table, he was able to bend over, lips finding purchase on the nipple that wasn’t trapped between his fingers.

A high pitched moan was ripped from her throat as she subconsciously spread her legs, Joel’s hips fitting perfectly in the space between her thighs. Her hand splayed out on the wood behind her as she arched into his tongue that was now currently swirling lazy circles around the sensitive bud. And though she had never done anything like this before, her hips started to move in the only way that seemed natural. The only way that seemed to relieve the ache that pulsed between her legs.

Y/N rolled her hips up into Joel, the hardness of him firm against her clothed center, soaked from her constant arousal since their first kiss. She wondered if she would make a mess of the pants he was wearing, but the thought was fleeting once Joel pulled away from her skin.

“Fuck.” He stammered, resting his forehead in the valley of her breasts, his brown curls tickling her skin.  “D-don’t do that, darlin’.” 

Y/N stilled. “Why? Did I hurt you?”

He laughed breathlessly, the air of it fanning over Y/N’s chest. “No, nothing like that… Just feels t’ good.”

“Oh.” She said, a bit bashfully, but a small smile tugged at her kiss-bruised lips. Pride started to swell deep in her stomach at the admission that she made him feel just as good. And that idea was too precious to pass up on. “Then maybe I should keep doing that.”

She grinded her hips against him again, forcing him to remove himself from her chest, sucking in a harsh breath. His hand shot out, gripping onto the supple flesh of her inner thigh, now exposed as the skirt of her dress had shifted during their hectic movements. 

“Please, sweetheart.” Joel begged, his nails digging into her leg. “You gotta stop.”

“But I wanna make you feel good.” She pouted, hips stilled by the brace he instilled upon her. Joel released a shaky breath, moving his forehead to rest on Y/N’s once more. His gaze was averted to the green fabric bunched up under her breasts, his brown eyes lost to her.

“You have no idea how much I want that— how long I’ve wanted that.” He murmured. “But I came back here for a reason.”

His voice sounded more determined by the end of his sentence. In doing so, it made the woman’s tone that much smaller, but she was still quite the contrarian to his words.

“I thought this was the reason.” She countered, sliding her hand up behind his neck, fingers toying with the curls at the base of his hairline. This time it was him shivering under her touch.

A soft smile curled upon Joel’s lips, he shook his head against her forehead, in slight laughter. “No. It’s close to what I was picturin’... but not quite.”

“Then what were you picturing?” She asked.

Joel leaned back, finally gracing her with the sight of his eyes, He didn’t answer her question, only holding an excruciating form of eye contact with the woman. And then, the once rough fingers that had tugged at her clothing and groped at her flesh were now trailing soft patterns into the skin of her thigh. Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat as they started to move closer to the spot between her legs. The ache she felt for him was now burning with great white heat.

Her own hands were gripping in their respective areas, meaning one was tugging at Joel's hair, pulling satisfied groans from his lips, while the other was locked around the edge of the table. Her hips jutted forward by their own accord when his fingertips skirted around the edge of her panties.

“Joel.” She whined, frustrated by his featherlight touch, though strangely enough also reveling in his gentle caress. 

“I know.” He whispered, dropping his head onto her shoulder. “I know… I’ll give you what you want— just let me…”

He splayed his large hand onto her thigh, pushing against it so that she’d spread out wider for him. There was no resistance from her, only eager relinquishment. There was a harsh twitch of his cock at the thought that she would let him do anything with her, along with the idea that her body was all his for the taking. A covet he never thought would come into fruition. 

“Please, Joel.” She urged again, and Joel realized right then that he was just as much hers as she was his. He would do anything for her. His body ached to give her exactly what she wanted. 

So he did.

Y/N gasped when his thumb pressed firmly against the darkened spot on her panties, a similar gasp falling from Joel’s lips when he finally learned how wet she truly was. And it was all for him. 

He moved his digit at an agonizing pace, moving in slow circles around the most sensitive part of her, not even sparing a fleeting touch to the bud of nerves. The torture of it all was exquisite. Y/N’s head fell backwards as she moaned, the tendons of her neck stretched out in front of Joel, the sight of it too enticing for his own good. He leaned forward, touching his lips against her skin. 

Now having to focus on two things at once, his movements against her core became sloppy, and his touch harshened, slipping over Y/N’s clit. An embarrassing squeal forced its way from her throat as she jutted her hips fiercely into Joel’s thumb. He grinned against her skin.

“Oh, you liked that, didn't you?” He chuckled, placing more kisses down her neck, his beard scratching her skin as he moved. Y/N had a response to his teasing tone, perhaps it was even quick-witted, but it was stolen from her lips and replaced with another desperate moan when his tongue swirled around her nipple.

It was all becoming too much with every tiny ministration he committed on her skin. She felt as though she could burst into flames. Little did she know that it would all come to a head when Joel would kiss his way down her body, heavy knees dropping to the floor. There was no patience left within him when he practically ripped Y/N’s panties off of her body, hands roughly pushing her thighs apart.

“J-Joel, what are you doing?” She questioned, forearms braced against the table, being pushed back further up the furniture as Joel started nipping at her inner thigh, goosebumps following in his wake

“‘m doin’ what I came here for.” He mumbled into her skin, teeth grazing the malleable flesh. She was about to ask exactly what that might be, but the question was answered when he licked a long stripe through her slick folds.

Curses tumbled out of Y/N’s lips as he used his mouth on her. Never in a million years would she imagine that he would do something so… obscene. And she never would have anticipated how much she loved it. Her eyes were wide as she marveled at the sight of him. His brown eyes were staring back up at her from over her mound, drinking in every little reaction he spurred from her. His hair was wild, the look of it brought on by Y/N’s fingers as she ran them through the tendrils, forcing him closer and closer. And then there were the noises of him slurping and groaning and relishing in the taste of her. 

At the beginning, Joel was slow with his actions, his tongue going up and down the length of her slit. Again he would frustratingly avoid touching her clit, tracing big circles around the bud, building up anticipation deep in Y/N’s stomach. But as he continued, every so often he would flick over it pulling more whimpers from Y/N’s throat. He would moan against her folds in satisfaction, the vocalizations causing slight vibrations to run through her entire form. 

Y/N’s head fell with a soft thump against the table, her back arching up into the air, squirming under Joel’s actions. A hand snaked up from Y/N’s thigh, placing itself on her sternum. His palm was rough against the skin between her bare breasts, holding her down and keeping her in place. 

Finally, seemingly deciding that the woman had been through enough torture, Joel wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking on it harshly. She all but screamed at this new sensation overcoming her, her right leg slipping over his left shoulder, unknowingly trapping him in place. They were locked in a heated tryst, his hand still braced on her chest, her calf pushing into his back and Joel’s mouth and tongue were still unrelenting. 

She couldn’t help but to twist her fingers into his hair, tugging him closer against her cunt, she grinded her hips into his face, any tribulations that she might be hurting him lost in her pleasure. But if only she knew how much Joel adored her desperate nature as she chased after her high on his tongue. In fact he had never been this hard in his life. He could feel himself dripping inside of his pants, making a mess of his boxers as precum spilled from his tip with every twitch of his cock. His hips were thrusting into the air beneath the table in his own desperation. The seam of his zipper was rubbing firmly against the length of him. Joel honestly would not be surprised if he ended up cumming without even having to touch himself.

And as it turned out, eventually he would.

Joel’s name was now falling freely from between Y/N’s lips in broken fragments. The movements of her hips were becoming clumsy, stuttering as Joel continued to lick at her clit, groaning everytime she pulled at his hair. The heat burning low in her stomach began to grow hotter and more incessant. And with one more deliberate move of Joel’s tongue against her clit, it all began to burst.

The sight of Y/N cumming was the prettiest thing Joel had ever seen. Her head was thrust back against the table, supple lips drawn open as more of her moans escaped into the air, along with the sound of his name. Her whole body was tensing and shaking as the waves of her orgasm washed over her body. Joel’s mouth was ruthless on her cunt, drinking anything she had to offer him as the proof of her orgasm splashed over his tongue. The sight of her, as well as the taste of her, was all too much to bear as his own hips involuntarily jutted into nothing, the confines of his pants working against him in a way that had him finishing. He shuddered at the sensation, his shoulders trembling as he could feel his own cum spill into the fabric of his underwear. He whimpered into Y/N’s cunt, breathing sharply out of his nose, still trying to coax her down from her own orgasm as her body became limp and her breathing heavy, until finally everything started to slow down. 

Searching hands groped around until they finally found purchase on Joel’s shoulders. She tugged at his shirt, forcing him away from her oversensitive core and out from between her legs. 

She was met with eyes blown out with lust and a fading orgasm, red lips parted in amazement and beard shining with her cum. His clothes were askew and his brown curls were all over the place. He looked completely out of it. Though she probably couldn’t say she was much better.

And Joel admired the image of it as he stood above her. She blinked up at him, leaning back on her elbows, a look of pure wonderment painting her features. Her green dress was bunched around her middle, nipples still perked in the cool air of the kitchen, her chest stuttering with every breath. He smiled softly at her, leaning to snake a hand around her waist, pulling her up into a sitting position, her hands instinctively looping around his broad shoulders.

“You alright?” He asked gently as he stood her on shaking legs, the skirt of her dress now falling back in place. She shivered when she felt the touch of his knuckles on her chest once again as he shifted the top of her dress back in its proper position.

“I—  um… yeah.” She said breathlessly, words lost to her in her post-orgasmic state. Joel couldn’t help but grin at her flustered demeanor, bringing a hand up to her cheek. She was grateful for his touch, leaning into his hand as he caressed her cheekbone with his thumb. He leaned down, placing a gentle kiss to her lips causing Y/N to taste herself upon his skin.

“Did you… get what you were looking for?” Y/N questioned, once they pulled apart. Earning soft laughter deep from within Joel’s chest. The sound of it quirking up the corners of Y/N’s lips in a shy smile, pride swelling in her belly since she was the one who caused it.

“That I did, sweetheart.” He smiled, running a hand over her hair, his eyes sparking with contentment. Her shy smile morphed into that of a bright grin, pulling him back in towards her to share a deeper kiss. He groaned into her lips, unexpected for the both of them as another surge of lust sparked between them, seemingly unsatisfied by what they had just finished. She whimpered back into his mouth as tongues started probing and teeth nipping once again. At a particularly boisterous moan from Y/N, Joel had to pull away. 

“W-wait.” He breathed, “I— We can’t, we don’t have time. I have to go back.”

Y/N deflated at his words, but ultimately nodded her head in understanding. She took a step back from him, needing the distance to quell her need to melt into him once more. Though Joel’s fingers quickly wrapped around her own, stopping her from moving away any further.

“You’ll still be here when I get back, yeah?” He asked, the question causing Y/N’s heart to drop down to her stomach. As she looked at him she found insecurities scrawled across his features. Maybe she hadn’t done enough to convince him that she wasn’t going anywhere. Or perhaps this was leftover from pain he endured in the past. She brought his hand up, brushing her lips across his knuckles in a sweet kiss, and then covered that spot with her free hand.

“I promise.” She whispered, her gaze locked on his searching eyes, flickering over her features, trying to find the truth. When he found nothing but her earnest smile he felt brave enough to go, but not before leaving her with one more breathless kiss. 

Y/N had watched silently as he got ready to leave, washing his face with the bar of hand soap left on the side of the kitchen sink. She didn’t say anything as he readjusted his clothes and threw his bag over his shoulder. And she didn’t beg him to stay when he finally placed that final kiss upon her lips. All she did was sink further and further into the throes of missing him, despite the fact that he was right in front of her.

It only grew stronger as he whispered more promises of continuing when he returned three days later. She held onto that promise, close to her chest like a dying flame, watching as the view of his truck disappeared over the horizon. 

She prayed to the gods above that time would fly quickly.

Though perhaps she should’ve been praying for something else entirely. 

Because later that night and hundreds of miles out from the shoreline, a little ship bobbed at sea. The workers on deck scrambled in preparation. Worry stiffened their brows. Prayers to Poseidon fell from their lips. A soft pattern of rain began to sprinkle over their heads, it was unassuming in its very nature. But that was just the first sign of the oncoming danger as they headed into the eye of the storm. 

Three days came and went.

Joel had yet to return home. 

Y/N knew that the life of a fisherman was dangerous and unpredictable, she had heard many stories, most of which when she was younger, whispered to her by her classmates as they relayed the most gory details from the sad news of a shipwreck. Some were overheard at the local pub, traumatic events recounted around a bottle of brandy as fishermen tried to top each other's stories.

Frankly, these stories hardly bothered the young woman like it did to others in town. She couldn’t indulge in the disturbance of it all because the way these stories were told, relayed like an unattainable fairytale. It was all folklore in her mind. She was certain that nothing like that could ever affect any aspect of her life.

She was eating her words now. 

It was on the sixth day that Joel was gone when she heard that it was a storm that delayed their ship, knocking it off its course.

The information was brought to her front doorstep by her very own father, who in his old age made the trek across the island to do so. This left Y/N’s stomach unsettled, for he would never go to such great lengths unless something truly terrible had occurred. 

She was reminded of the day her mother died. He adorned the same face that painted his features now. Eyes downcasted, lower lip trembling, hands twisting around his patched cap. He was sitting on one of the wooden chairs strewn around the kitchen table. Y/N was leaned up against the counter, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

“We didn’t get the message until early this morning. Radio was down, they barely got it  workin’ when they reached us...” He said quietly, to the toes of his boots.

“And?” Y/N urged, knowing her father had more to say.

“They lost a few men.” He said quickly, as if he couldn’t stand to have the words left on his tongue. Y/N sucked in a breath. She turned around, facing the window over the sink. She braced her palms on the counter, vision blurring as tears pricked the corner of her eyes.

“Did they say who?” She asked, words choked between her tightening vocal cords, constricting from her tears.

“No, couldn’t keep the signal for long enough.” He murmured, she could hear him stand, the legs of the chair squeaking against the tile. “But they did say they’ll be returning by this evening.”

Y/N whipped around at that, her features twisted in vexation. The lead buried so much deeper than it needed to be. She would have to keep her annoyance left unsaid, however, as now there was no time to waste. 

She brushed past her father hastily, ignoring the way her name was called after her as she staggered around the living room, clumsy in the way she tugged her boots over her feet. Her jacket was long forgotten on the hook by the door as she hurried outside, the thought of it only coming once the cool winds whipped at her exposed arms and cheeks. But she wouldn’t turn back for it. Her adrenaline kept her warm, anyways.

It was a two hour walk to get to the docks. Beads of sweat ran down her spine, blisters pinched at the heels of her feet, her breathing was labored as she pushed her anxiety out of her lungs. Though none of that mattered. All she knew was that she had to get to the docks. She had to get to him. If he was even there…

She swiped angrily at the tears that now carved pathways down the skin of her cheeks. Never in her life had she ever been able to keep her emotions at bay, she was always willing to scream at the sky and cry til her throat was raw. That fact was unchanging even as she grew older. So she let her tears fall. They didn’t distract from her current mission, anyhow. Her eyes were set on the small town that appeared over the horizon. 

The whole town congregated at the docks. Passersby stood on the cobblestone streets, their inherent nosiness ill-concealed by their feigned looks of concern. Whispers flitted between them as if this were all just a dramatized show to keep them entertained. Y/N let no apologies slip through her lips as she pushed her way through them, knocking into their shoulders and earning glares as she did. 

When her footsteps rang out on the wood of the dock that's when she was surrounded by the people like her. Family members worried for their loved ones lost at sea. They all stood silently as their eyes were set towards the ocean, hands clutched in prayer, whispering hopes that it wasn’t their spouse, parent or child who lost their life to an unrelenting sea. Y/N was too impatient to do the same. She just stood and waited for any kind of sign that Joel would be home soon.

It came only thirty minutes later. When a small boy at the front of the dock screeched in anticipation, pointing out a small dot wavering in the distance. Y/N’s stomach swooped down in a mixture of hope and apprehension. She was terrified to learn the truth of what happened.

But twenty minutes after that, the truth had arrived as the ship pulled in with the tide. Everyone advanced closer to where the fisherman would eventually unboard. Y/N stayed behind, her feet frozen to where she stood. Maybe she was trying to delay the inevitable. 

Relieved cries and overjoyed calling of names soon swirled into the evening air as loved ones were reunited. Warm embraces and fervent kisses were exchanged between them. But it was all backtracked by the ones who received news of a death, heartbreaking wails mixing in with the sound of reunion.

It was an unsettling cacophony of sounds. The way love and loss intertwined within one another. Two sides of the same coin. And Y/N still had yet to know which one she was on. 

Her hands were shaking. Her sight was restricted by the many heads that stood in front of her. She scanned each face, none of them holding the warm brown eyes she’s grown accustomed to. Her stomach sank deeper and deeper, her throat started to constrict again, a sob threatened to burst out from between her trembling lips.

She couldn’t hold it back once she registered a mess of brown and gray curls making its way through the crowd. The sob released itself, though not in anguish as she had thought, it was instead paired with the most intense form of relief she had ever known. Her feet started to move by their own accord.

His name fell desperately from her lips. 

Joel stilled once he heard the sound of it. Brown eyes wild as he searched frantically for where it was coming from. When they found her through a split in the crowd, Y/N was met with the same look of relief she knew was apparent within her own irises. 

His stride lengthened as he worked fast to cut the distance between them. As she drew nearer, he registered the tear stains on her supple skin, fresh ones following the same path. His heart lurched at the sight, the overwhelming need to hold her burning his skin. Burning hotter as she drew nearer. Setting him ablaze when she was right in front of him. 

He tossed his bag to the side in favor of wrapping his arms around her. He relished in the way she sank into his arms, curling into his chest. He felt how her heartbeat pounded against her ribs, beating in the same pattern as his own. Joel held onto her even tighter.

“You scared the hell out of me.” She cried, tone muffled by his cable knit sweater as she hid her face in his warmth. A large hand smoothed over the back of her head, bringing her in even closer if that was even possible. His nose dropped down into her hair, the scent of her invading his senses, comforting him. He was back home. Safe. And she was here waiting for him. 

“I know, baby, I’m sorry.” He murmured, the nickname falling freely in his solace. 

She didn’t seem to mind. 

They returned home just as the sun dipped below the horizon, losing the orange hues of the sunset to a dark velvet sky littered with stars. The journey was much easier on the way back now that they had Joel’s old truck that was waiting for him down by the docks. As well as the fact that the reassurance of Joel’s return replaced the heavy feeling of fear that had haunted Y/N for the past three days.

They were greeted by a homemade meal, left behind by Y/N’s father. A gift either of consolation or celebration. She was grateful it was the latter. 

And once their bellies were full and the pain of the day was washed away in soothing streams of hot water, the two of them stood in the hallway once again. Y/N was unsure of what to do. Less than a week ago they had crossed a boundary she hadn’t even dreamed of. Now they were standing at the precipice of something even greater. And since Joel was safe at home once again, the anticipation to act on it was dripping from the walls. 

Was she ready for such a feat? Was Joel expecting something like this to happen? Nerves brought a tremor to her hands. 

Meanwhile, Joel could feel the tips of his ears burning at the memory of what happened the last time they were alone together. Her moans had him weak in the knees, her skin was soft to the touch, things he only knew since Y/N had made the first move in this very hallway. A bolder woman than what stood in front of him now, as her eyes stayed glued to the floor, her breathing fragmented from timidity.

His gaze softened as he took in the sight of her.

“I don’t know what you’re expectin’ to happen...” He breathed, a soft smile turning up the corners of his mouth, “But I can assure you it’s not what you’re thinkin’...”

Y/N’s eyes flickered up at the teasing lilt to his words. She was met with a mischievous gleam in those brown eyes as he repeated the very first thing she ever said to him. She couldn’t help her own grin that bloomed across her lips. 

At her smile, he felt brave enough to bring a hand up to her cheek. 

“You have nothing to worry about, darlin’” He then murmured, stroking his thumb over the soft skin. She leaned in his touch, peering up at him through her lashes. “We don’t have to do anythin’.”

“I want to.” She whispered back, her words causing his breath to hitch in his throat. “Eventually… but tonight…”

He nodded, removing his touch from her face. “I understand.”

The floorboards creaked as he took a step back. But surprise shot up his spine when she moved to clutch his fallen hand with both of her own. 

“But tonight could you just lay with me?” She quickly added.

She looked up at him expectantly, the plush of her bottom lip dragged between her teeth. He let out a low labored breath.

“Y-yeah.” He nodded, the word weak on his tongue. He was afraid that if he spoke any louder he might scare her off. Though the grip of her fingers locked around his palm proved to him that she was there to stay. A reassurance he was always grateful for. 

Y/N tugged at his hand, urging him to follow as she guided their way into her bedroom. It was an odd choice, considering the master bedroom was just right there and the bed was bigger. But to be invited into her private sanctuary was an opportunity he would never pass on. So his feet followed eagerly.

It was dark in the room when they entered and it stayed that way as no one made a move to turn on the light. Unfortunately, what she had done to make the bedroom her own was lost to his eyes, but that regret was soon forgotten as he heard the squeak of mattress springs and the shuffling of blankets.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he found Y/N’s form on the bed in front of him, he stood on the side, basking in the glory of this moment. 

“Come here.” Her whisper found him through the dark. His stomach swooped at the sultry sound of her voice. But he ignored any provocative thoughts that wormed its way into his brain. Instead, he obeyed her command, the mattress dipping as he slid under the covers beside her.

In an instant, his senses were invaded by her scent as well as her warmth. There was only an inch or two of distance between them. Both lying on their backs, staring up at the ceiling, afraid to move, afraid to breathe.

A sharp intake of breath rang out from Joel when the touch of her fingertips smoothed over his open palm in the space between them. Naturally, his own digits curled around hers. He heard as she sighed happily from his reciprocation. 

And somehow— despite how fast his heartbeat was when he had her writhing under his tongue only a few days prior, it was nothing compared to the small gentle act of holding her hand.

~

Joel was up before the sun.

As was the case every morning, since his body's internal clock was intune with the demanding schedule his occupation thrusted upon him. So he was used to opening his eyes to a darkened world, not yet warmed by rays of sunlight.

Though today was slightly different. He wasn’t woken by the natural fluttering of his eyelids as his dreams from that night slipped away; Instead it was the press of another person’s form against his body, an arm draped over his torso, legs intertwined between his own, head resting on his chest.

He stiffened once he remembered where he was and who it was.

Y/N.

She was warm through the fabric of their pajamas. So much so that Joel didn’t even miss the warmth of the sun like he usually did during these dark and frigid mornings. A deep contented sigh pushed through the structure of his chest, Y/N’s head moving in time with his breathing. The movement elicited a small whine from her lips.

The sound had his heart racing yet again, reminding him of the other noises she was capable of making.

Those noises had been replaying over and over in Joel’s mind ever since he was blessed to hear them— even better, to create them with the touch of his own hands and lips. He brought the memory with him when he was on that small boat, miles out at sea, restless in his cot as he ached to return home to her. 

When they were caught in the throes of that storm all he could think about was her. The drive of it kept him alive throughout the chaos. 

Now here he was, sharing in her warmth, despite the awkward navigation of their newfound forms of intimacy. Anticipation surged through his muscles, pulling away the last dregs of sleep that had plagued his limbs. 

Joel cursed under his breath as something else began to stir to life. 

This was a young man's game. He was in over his head with the feelings she evoked from him. Never in his life had he experienced anything quite like this. The way every part of his body begged for every part of hers. Everything he’d felt for those before her was just a crude imitation of what he felt for her at this very moment. It was almost an insult to compare. Nothing could ever compare..

And he had no idea what he was supposed to do. 

Which was funny. Because this woman was his wife. She was the one person he should feel this for. But with the way they had started Joel wasn’t sure what he was allowed to take what he wanted. Was he allowed to be selfish the way he wanted to? Everything surrounding the two of them was delicate. And Joel was terrified of breaking it with his large and clumsy hands.  

For now he would just have to hold himself back. Be gentle in the way that he navigated this unknown territory. Which meant he had to do the hardest thing in the world. 

He had to get out of this bed. 

Slowly and cautiously he detangled his limbs from the woman beside him. He trained his eyes on her face, searching for any sign that his movements were waking her up. The line between her eyebrows showed itself when her cheek lost the firm foundation of his chest, but that— and a few incoherent mumbles— was all that occurred as he slipped himself out of her bed. Luckily, she seemed to be a sound sleeper as she curled up into herself without Joel’s warmth. 

Joel stood above her, almost caught in a trance from how disgruntled she looked now that he was gone, proof of the effect he had on her as well. A small smile danced on his lips. And then he allowed himself one indulgence as he leaned over to brush a faint kiss over her forehead. He felt her features smooth under his lips, seemingly content with his departing gift.

~

To wake up alone in a cold empty bed was not what Y/N had expected that morning. There were a few instances during the night, when her dreams took a pause that she would wake up, eyes blinking in the dark. And she quickly grew accustomed to the strong presence that Joel was. The soft steady sound of his snores was a comfort to the girl’s ears as they rumbled through his chest. At some point in the night his strong arms had encircled around her waist, pulling her into his warmth.

That very same warmth, having been taken away from her, was now sorely missed. She stretched an arm out over the expanse of her bed, fingers groping at where Joel once lay. 

She supposed she should’ve expected to wake up like this, considering how early he left every morning. But she would have thought she would’ve woken up when the time came. At least long enough to spare a goodbye before he headed off to work. 

Disappointment sat heavy over her form like a stormy rain cloud. Y/N tried not to dwell on it, but as always her feelings were too strong to contain, so throughout the whole rest of the day she moved about the house wistful in demeanor. Yearning for Joel despite the fact he would be home in a few hours time. 

Was this usually how it happened when you start to feel this way towards someone? Like your whole world stops turning when they aren’t near? Whatever the case, she knew that these feelings were not to be taken lightly. There was a rarity to them that made her heart much more precious to the woman. She felt like she needed to keep it safe, deep in her pocket where no harm would find it, and no one would be able to see the extremities of her feelings.

And that’s where she kept it as her restless feet wandered into town. 

But as she walked, something funny happened. Everywhere she looked, everything seemed so much brighter. The people who passed her by greeted her with warm ‘hello’s’ and ‘how are you’s’. Kids were laughing as they played in the street, laughing. There were lovers in front of shops holding hands and exchanging stolen kisses. Birds were singing. The sun was… shining? Everything that used to be dreary about the island, everything that Y/N hated, had somehow flipped to be the exact opposite of what it used to be. Or perhaps… it had always been like this and she just hadn’t noticed, too caught up in her own pretension and desperate need to escape. 

Perhaps this island really did live up to its name.

Why was it that she had just noticed this now? What had changed?

She thought of her beating heart, hidden in her deepest pocket. And then froze in her tracks. 

She was reminded of something. Something she had only heard in the old sea-shanties her father used to sing while he cooked. In the stories her mother used to whisper to her at bedtime. And that used to worm her way into her dreams late at night, planting the idea that she had to escape in the first place. She had to go find it. 

It was love.

And it hit her like a ton of bricks. 

Well, not the love part, that made sense to her as the loose ends were finally tied together. What surprised her the most was that she didn’t have to travel to the furthest reaches of the earth to find it. It had been on this very island the whole entire time. And it was fated to be shared with the man she was hell-bent against marrying. 

Incredulous laughter began to bubble out of her throat. So much so that she had to brace herself on her knees as she gasped for air. She was definitely living up to her reputation as the crazy woman, earning strange glances from passersby. But she didn’t care. She never cared. All she really cared about was burning passionate love, that’s what she had been yearning for all her life. And she was almost too stupid to realize that it was right under her nose.

Gong! Gong! Gong! Gong! Gong!

The clocktower in town was chiming at the start of the new hour. Five o’clock… It pulled Y/N out of her unexpected fit of laughter. Joel would be on his way home right at this very moment. And without thinking twice, the woman began to run.

~

Joel returned to an empty house. This wasn’t entirely unusual, as there were some days Y/N would be out in the garden, lounging on the porch swing she loved oh-so much, having lost track of time. He would always find her, caught in the middle of a fascinating passage, one she couldn’t tear her eyes from. The idea of dinner would not have crossed her mind, as it was often lost in the clouds.

He never minded that, though. In fact, he quite liked finding her like that because then it meant that he would get the chance to be by her side while they made their meal together. And he also couldn’t lie about the fact that he enjoyed seeing the image of her, so carefree, with her knees tucked beneath her, skin glowing underneath the evening sun. He would always take a moment to stop and watch her, drinking in the sight of her peace before having to force her out of it.

A small smile spread across his lips at the thought he’d catch her like that now. His heavy footfalls rang out into the quiet household as he crossed the floor towards the back door. His anticipation flickered deep in his stomach once more, excited to see her.

But he was left in disappointment and slight worry when he was greeted with the sight of an empty porch swing. It looked so much sadder without her presence, the loss of her making obvious the peeling white paint and rusted chains that made the furniture what it was. Lackluster without her. A feeling now all too familiar to Joel as he searched the rest of the house, finding empty room after empty room.

He had seen this before. Lived through it. Deja vu in the form of his ex wife whittled its way into his brain. He recalled the day he found her missing. How he felt when he realized she wasn’t coming back. This was so much worse. Because now it was Y/N.

The woman he had unexpectedly fallen for, head over heels. The woman who promised him she wouldn’t do the same and that she would stay right here with him in this house.

It must’ve been too much to ask for. Joel must have wanted too much. Taken too much. She must have come to her senses and realized the potential she was wasting in a marriage with an old man like him. Dread was quick to overtake him, he knew that much. But he had never been a lucky man. Everything he ever loved was always lost to him. Why would anything change now?

Joel found himself sitting on the front step of his porch, head clutched in his hands. He wasn’t exactly sure what it was that brought him out there. Maybe he needed the fresh air to rid the panic in his lungs. Or maybe it was that flicker of hope that still burned within his heart. Maybe she would return home to him. If his hopes weren’t for nothing.

“Joel?”

His head snapped up to find Y/N standing in front of him. She was out of breath, a sheen of sweat covering her skin, causing her to glow brighter than she usually did. Her irises sparked with worry as she took in the sight of his hunched form on the porch. Though once he registered that she was really there, standing in front of him, he shot to his feet.

“Y/N.” He replied, his voice riddled with a confusing tone of surprised awe, eyes thick with relief. The girl’s brows furrowed. He took the remaining two steps down to where she stood, his hands bracing themselves on her shoulders.

“Where were you?” He questioned, somewhat angrily, though through that she could see a form of desperation hiding behind it all.

“I’m sorry I was— I just came from town.” She answered, having not yet fully caught her breath, the words were hushed between her overworked lungs. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He practically begged out the question. “I could’ve brought you home.”

“I’m sorry.” She said earnestly, wrapping her fingers around his wrists. “I didn’t think of it. I was in a hurry to get back.”

“Why?” 

She looked down at the ground between their feet, the distance between them small, soon to become even smaller, she was sure. A bashful smile crept up onto her lips. 

“I wanted to see you.” She murmured, eyes still averted as a slight heat pinched at her cheeks. Somehow it was much harder to face him, now that she had put a name to what she had been feeling.

Surprise stiffened her shoulders when Joel let out a harsh breath of relief, his head dropping into the crook of her neck, arms looping around her waist. She soon softened under his embrace, her fingers tangling within his sea-breeze tangled hair. 

“I thought you left.” He mumbled into her skin. Y/N’s stomach dropped at the hidden fear behind his words. She now understood completely where this strange new demeanor was coming from. She quickly shook her head, knowing Joel felt as she did when her cheekbone brushed against his ear in time with the movement.

“No.” She whispered. “No, I would never.”

His hold on her tightened with the words spoken. Y/N smoothed her hand over the back of his head, hoping it brought some form of comfort to the man.  As his shoulders began to relax, she knew that it did. She continued her reassurance.

“I’m sorry.” Y/N tilted her head towards him, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. I should’ve come down to the docks.”

“Why didn’t you?” He asked, pulling back from his hiding spot, eyes searching for the answer. 

Y/N drew in a deep breath, the heat in her cheeks burning fiercer than before. She averted her gaze towards the gravel pathway, taking a step back so that possibly she could find her words within the created distance. Nerves, fairly quickly, took over her form.

“Well… to start, I think— pretty early on in our marriage you must have realized that I wasn’t exactly ecstatic about the whole ordeal.” She rambled as she began to pace, wild with her movements the way she was erratic with her words.

Joel opened his mouth to confirm, but she was speaking so fast that he never had the chance. So he watched on, almost incredulously, eyes following her as she paced back and forth in front of him, avoiding his gaze.

“I mean… I don’t think you were totally happy with it either, considering how we were at the beginning… —Anyways, none of that matters now.” Y/N waved her arms, trying to get rid of any more unnecessary words.

“The reason I was so unhappy— at first— was because I was so desperate to fall in love.” She continued, the last word ringing familiar in Joels ear. A smile perked up the corners of his mouth as realization dawned on him, patiently waiting for the girl to finish her rant.

“And I didn’t think an arranged marriage could have any possibility of that.” Y/N glanced quickly over at Joel, finding him nodding along in exaggerated understanding, strong arms crossed over his chest.

“But then a funny thing happened, when I was walking into town and I suddenly realized…” She stopped moving, facing the man head on as she said her peace. “I think I may be in love with you— No… I know that I’m in love with you.”

As he considered her— standing in front of him, with begging eyes and shaking hands— he bit back a brighter grin. With this onslaught of information he wasn’t exactly sure how he should say what he wanted to say. If the girl would even give him the chance to do so.

“And that’s why I didn’t meet you at the docks.” Y/N finished, quite lamely, hands raised out from her sides as if offering him the floor. Though, her arms flopped back down to their original position quickly after.

“So…” Joel started slowly, killing the woman with every second his pause dragged out. “You didn’t come to the docks… because you’re in love with me?”

“It would seem so.” She confirmed, her voice small with apprehension. “Do you have anything to say on the matter?”

“Just one thing.” He breathed, before taking a step forward, he looped an arm around her waist pulling her against him. A gasp fell from her lips at the eagerness in this action, her hands impulsively landing on his chest. Joel's other hand moved to rest on the side of her face, guiding her lips to slot against his in a deep-seated kiss. 

It was as if the entirety of her being were in her lips, like there was nothing else in the world as he pressed soft kisses to the plush skin. Kisses that somehow conveyed the entire range of how he felt towards her. The passion showed itself as he nipped at her bottom lip with his teeth. The tenderness shown in the gentle caress of his tongue. The love being presented as he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers, it shining in the deep brown of his eyes.

“I love you too.” He confirmed what she saw within his irises, her heart swelling that she wasn’t on her own in feeling this way.

“I didn’t realize that’s what it was until I thought you were gone.” He told her, “I think I might’ve…”

His words trailed off, replaced with a deep breath as he pulled her in closer, as if making sure she was really there in his arms.

“I think I might’ve felt this way for a really long time.” He ended. Y/N smiled warmly up at him, tilting her head to brush her nose against his own.

“Me too.”

And neither one of them really knew exactly when that could have been. Perhaps it was the very first time they laid eyes on each other. Or during one of their many shared meals as they sat across from one another in comfortable silence. Or the distance that kept them apart by raging seas. Maybe it shifted with the constant storms that would rain down over their house. Or maybe it was written in the stars, destined to happen. Whatever the case, it didn’t really matter to them now as they melted back into each other, lips crashing in a great crescendo portraying exactly the burning passion this island was supposed to be known for. 

Their next movements were like a white blinding light as they forged through the front door of their home, shoes left behind,— the excitement that should’ve been present on their wedding night was now following them through the living room and up the creaky stairs. Y/N’s grip on Joel’s hand was strong as she pulled him down the hallway towards the master bedroom, but she still wasn’t strong enough to keep him moving when he stopped abruptly. She turned to face him.

“Wh—?” Her question was interrupted when he pressed her against the wall, his lips finding hers once more. A small squeak of surprise from the young woman was muffled by Joel’s kiss, swallowing it down. His hands were firm on her waist, fingers slipping under the hem of her shirt. Her skin was hot to the touch. 

“Joel.” She moaned against his lips, the touch of his thumb rubbing slow circles into her skin sending bolts of electricity straight to her toes.

His name sounding like that coming from her was enough to have Joel’s entire being on fire. He could feel himself harden with every moan she gifted him, as well as his resolve weakening, patience wearing thin. 

Shifting his grip, his hands were now clutching at the back of Y/N’s bare thighs (since she had miraculously had the good sense to wear shorts today). On instinct, using the leverage of Joel’s grasp, she jumped into his arms, legs wrapping around his waist. The momentum of their bodies coming together had Joel stumbling backwards, back hitting the other wall. The artwork hanging on aging nails rattled in their frames, threatening to crash to the floor as they shook from the collision. Neither husband or wife paid this any mind as they clutched onto each other, lips still vehemently attached, moans and grunts being traded within their kiss.

Soon, Joel’s feet were moving once again, carrying Y/N over the threshold of his bedroom. Like a man was supposed to do with his bride, finally given the chance to do so. Though his grip almost slackened when she pulled her lips away from his, replacing them on the skin below his ear. He cursed under his breath as she began to suckle against a sweet spot he never even knew existed. 

Against all odds, he made it to the bed, falling backwards against the plush surface, springs squeaking under their combined weight. Y/N was not at all deterred by this new position, her forearms bracing themselves on either side of Joel's head as she kissed her way down his neck, hoping she was even half as good as Joel was at this sort of thing. 

She supposed she wasn’t half bad as his breathing was soon labored under the touch of her lips, thick fingers twisting into the fabric of her shirt. She smiled against his skin, especially so when she finally lowered her hips down over his own, the sign of his enjoyment pressing harshly into her inner thigh. Y/N rolled her hips into him, hoping for that very same reaction she had gotten the first time she did this. With no surprise at all, she prevailed.

“Shit—.” He hissed, hands darting to grip at her hips. “Wait.” 

Somehow he was strong enough to still her movements. Or maybe Y/N couldn’t help but obey the words said by this man. In either case, time began to slow down, their frantic movements ceasing. Y/N pushed up on her hands, sitting back on her heels so that she could meet his gaze. Joel’s hands found their home on the skin of her thighs, thumbs instinctively rubbing those soothing circles once again.

He drew in a breath, staring up at her with soft brown eyes. “Have you ever done this before?”

A shy look flitted across the woman's pretty features, her bashful smile weakened as her bottom lip was tugged between her lips. She shook her head, eyes trained to the top button of Joel’s shirt.

He swallowed against a newly dry throat as he realized she was willing to give him everything. Pink swelling up into his cheeks when his cock convulsed at the thought. Surely she had to have felt that, the gasp slipping from her lips proving that she did.  

“I… I don’t wanna rush you into doing anything you’re not ready for.” Joel murmured, “We can take it as slow as you need.”

Y/N offered him a sweet smile at his words, her fingers toying with that button she had her eye on. They were trembling slightly, not out of fear but instead a steady form of anticipation.

“We’ve been married for almost a year now.” She responded, her tone soft. “I think we’ve taken it slow enough.” 

“Alright then.” Joel responded in that same tone, a small smile matching her own, his heart lurching at what was to come next. 

And he could have easily slipped back into the pace they had set when they had crashed into the room. His desires were certainly begging him to do so. But this was their first time indulging in this act as a married couple— her first time at all. So despite the protests of his aching body, Joel would take his time, offer every part of himself to her and hope she would offer the same. 

He smoothed his hand up her thigh, carving his way up to rest his fingers behind her ear, thumb against her cheek. Without much force at all, he guided her gently until their lips were touching once again, this time in a slower kiss. She relaxed against him, chest resting on his. A small whimper escaped the back of her throat at the tenderness of it all.

The small noise spurred Joel into rolling Y/N onto her back, flipping the preexisting roles, covering her with the shadow of his form. His hands were braced on the plush surface beside her head, holding his weight above her. His knee was positioned between her thighs. She was a whimpering mess, grinding up into him, desperate to relieve the ache between her legs. Joel couldn’t help the smirk that appeared over his lips. The bold woman who was kissing down his neck just a mere few minutes ago was long gone. A dark part of him took pleasure at the sight of her like this, desperate for him. It didn’t help how pretty she was splayed underneath him, eyes darkened with lust, bottom lip trembling, hips rutting towards the thigh that was too far away from where she wanted him.

He wouldn’t give it to her. Not yet at least. He was going to take his time. He set his hand against her hip, forcing her to stop her movements, holding her in place.

Lowering himself towards her, he brushed his lips across Y/N’s in a quick kiss. He placed another on the apple of her cheek. Another on her temple. And again at the corner of her mouth. He was moving so slow that she could feel the flutter of his eyelashes tickling her skin. She sighed at each kiss, relishing in his attentiveness. 

She was cold when he removed himself from her, standing up at the side of the bed. Even more so when his hands lifted the hem of her shirt, pulling it up over her head. Her nipples were pebbled against the white lace of her bra, made more obvious as she leaned up on her elbows. His darkened eyes roamed over her body, no inch left undiscovered. His fingers continued to do their work of revealing more, when he popped open the button of her shorts. The garment soon discarded on the floor with her shirt. 

All that she was left in was her undergarments, grateful she had put on a matching set that morning. Joel stood fully clothed in front of her, on unequal ground but somehow the thought excited her. She could feel herself flush behind the skin of her cheeks, turning her head so she could hide behind the back of her hand.

“Don’t hide from me, darlin’” He whispered, catching her in the act, fingers clasping around her wrist. She complied letting the limb fall back to its original position. She dared herself to meet his strong gaze as he continued, another gasp swirling into the air when he spread her thighs, the wetness between her legs more obvious once the cold air contrasted with the heat of her arousal. 

“Look at you…” Joel groaned, toying with the hem of her panties where her thigh met her center, the fleeting touch of his fingers causing her hips to twitch up towards him. He watched her restlessness with slight amusement, though he granted her some form of relief as he dipped his pointer finger into her soaked panties. Though he only did so to pull the fabric away from her burning heat, and a second later he let it snap back down, the sound louder than expected as it smacked against her folds. 

“Don’t do that.” Y/N whined, squirming under his teasing.

“What? You don’t like it?” He did it again, causing the girl to jolt up further on the bed. She whined once, but she didn’t exactly have any words to argue with him. She sort of did like his teasing. But impatience was taking over her.

“I— I think I’m ready.” She breathed heavily through her nose as his fingers continued to play around with the fabric of her panties. 

“Ready?” He questioned, brows furrowed.

“Ready for you to— for your…” She stammered, embarrassment flooding her senses as she couldn’t find how to put it.

“For my cock?” He finished for her. She squeaked at the unexpected harshness of his words, but was pleased by the sharp ache that probed at her core. 

“Mhm.” She nodded, shutting her eyes, almost as if bracing herself. 

They shot back open at the sound of Joel’s soft laughter filling the room, she was greeted with the sight of his bright smile, his head shaking.

“What?” Y/N asked, slightly perturbed at the fact he was laughing at her. He only shook his head, bending to loop an arm around her waist, shifting her body with ease so that she now lay properly on the bed, head sinking into the plush material of his pillows. She huffed in annoyance, lifting herself up back on her elbows so that he could feel the full force of her glare. 

“You’re not even close to ready for me, sweetheart.” He told her, a strong knee propped on the bed. His fingers were working on the buttons of his dark green shirt, revealing a smattering of hair that was once hidden by its confines. Y/N paused as she hungrily drank in the reveal of his skin, but was soon disappointed when he stopped at the third button down. Any complaints she had were lost on her tongue when he swung his other leg onto the bed, trapping the woman between his knees as he sat above her. 

He looked like a god in this position. Skin shining under the sunlight that slid into the room in its golden hour, the shadows of his strong features accentuated. She wasn’t sure if she should cower under his might, she was more grateful to be bestowed with this sight of him. Ready to sacrifice anything to him.

“I feel ready.” She murmured up to him, “Want you inside of me, Joel.”

An unanticipated shiver shot up the length of Joel's spine at her admission, his erection growing harsher within the limits of his underwear. He sucked in a deep breath, shaking his head as if he had to deliberately make the move to hold himself back.

“I want that too, baby.” He mumbled, shifting to smooth his hands down the expanse of her stomach, needing his hands on her in some shape or form. “But ‘m too big for you.”

“Too big?” Y/N parroted her eyes widening. He nodded.

“Have t’ get you ready for me.” He relayed, “Especially since you’ve never had anythin' up there before.”

“Yes I have.” She countered, her tone becoming more defiant. Joel stilled at her words, knowing that could only mean one thing.

“Your fingers?” He swallowed against the words. Y/N’s shy demeanor returned, she looked away.

“Yes.” She said, her voice small.

Joel held back a groan threatening at the back of his throat, the image of her playing with herself, cumming around her fingers, forcing its way to the forefront of his mind. He could feel as more precum leaked out of his tip, slicking against his skin. His heartbeat was ringing in his ears.

“It’s not gonna be the same.” He strained, shaking his head.

“Will it hurt?” 

“A little… at first.” He told her honestly, “That’s why I need you to be ready for me. It’ll hurt you less and I… just wanna make you feel good.”

Y/N softened at the earnest look in Joel’s eyes as he spoke, her heartbeat hammering in her chest with how much care he was providing for her. 

“Okay.” She relented, her hands moving up to grasp at the bottom of his shirt, tugging him towards her. He followed her movements with no resistance, leaning down to kiss her, deep and steady. 

“Make me feel good then.” She whispered into his lips.

“As you wish.”  He replied, in the same hushed tone.

Joel sat back on his heels, admiring her in the golden light for just a second longer before he started. They held each other’s stare, the love they confessed blooming in the air between them, warming their bones, making their hearts beat in time. 

His touch was light as he slid her panties down her legs, losing the piece of fabric somewhere on the bed behind him. He placed a featherlight kiss across her collarbone as he unclasped her bra, her back arching into him so he had the room to remove it. He tossed it in the same aimless direction. And when he sat back, she was bare to him. 

“Beautiful.” He mumbled, tracing his knuckles down her sternum to her belly button, she shivered under his touch, or maybe from the compliment. 

Then he placed himself gently on the pillow beside her. He brought a large hand to her chin, tilting her head to the side so that she’d meet his gaze. Kissing her lips gently, he slid that same hand down the length of her stomach until his fingers were pressing into her pubic mound. He pulled away from her lips, so he could see every little reaction that she had for him.

Her pretty lips fell open when he dipped his fingers lower, collecting the wetness that was pooling at her entrance. He hummed at how wet she was, the slick covering his two fingers when he brought them back up to rub circles into her clit. A moan was instantly pulled from her, her body jolting at the sensation, breasts bouncing as she did. Joel drank in every minute of it. 

And once he knew she was completely ready, he finally slipped a finger inside of her. 

Y/N sucked in a harsh breath, she wasn’t expecting his finger to feel so large inside of her. But it was nothing to what she had felt before when she tried something like this on her own. She felt so full with just the use of his finger, stretching her out so resolutely, that she wondered how it would feel once it was the real thing. She was whimpering once again due to Joel’s actions, her hands shot up to grasp at Joel’s bicep, his shirt taut over the flexing muscle. 

“You want another finger?” He asked into her temple.

“Y-yes.” She breathed, already wanting more from him. And he wasn’t going to deny her of what she wanted. So he added the second finger, the obscene sound of it squelching into the air. He changed the position of his hand, as well, his thumb now prodding at her clit whenever he thrust his hand back into her.

Y/N’s hips moved in time with each of Joel’s movements, even as he sped up, the sound of his palm smacking against her wetness growing louder and louder. Her moans were now tumbling over her tongue at a constant rate, her head thrown back against the pillow.

Joel’s eyes were still watchful over her, he gaped at how beautiful she looked, coming undone with only the use of his fingers. He couldn’t stop from grinding himself into her hip, moving at the same pace as his fingers, too turned on by her to try and hold back.

His own moans were muffled when he started kissing at her neck, and then down the soft flesh of her breasts, until he flicked his tongue over her sensitive nipple.

That was the beginning of Y/N’s breaking point. Him curling his fingers inside of her, probing at a small spongy spot hidden deep inside of her, was the end. 

Her orgasm ripped through her like a freight train, her cum splashing itself onto Joel’s palm. Her legs couldn’t stop shaking, even when he pulled his digits out of her. He chuckled softly as he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into his chest. On instinct she curled into him, fingers clutching at the lapels of his shirt, her body still trembling as she floated back down from the sky. 

“How was that?” He questioned, holding her tighter against him. She could feel her own slick on his fingers as they pressed into her lower back. 

“Good.” She said into the crook of his neck, voice shaky, earning another laugh from the man. 

“We can stop now, if you want.” He told her, lips pressed into her hair. 

Y/N pushed against his chest, freeing herself from her previous hiding spot. She looked at him with furrowed brows and found nothing but honesty and adoration flickering across his irises. God, he really would stop for her, if she asked him too. In fact, the look he was giving her told her that he would do anything for her. She let out a frustrated breath, surely he wasn’t so stupid to think that she wouldn’t do the same for him. 

“I don’t want to stop.” She said, genuine with her words. Maybe a bit too forceful as she sat up.

“O-okay.” Joel relinquished, eyes wide at her eagerness, following her in the action of sitting up, his back now straightened.

“It’s slightly unfair, you know.” Y/N then said, placing a hand to the center of his chest, pushing lightly so that he would rest against the headboard. There was no resistance, he did as she said. 

“What is?” Joel inquired, his breathing quickening as Y/N sat on her knees beside his hip. His eyes were trained to the crease between her thigh and waist, relishing in her every curve. It was a cruel reminder of his hardened cock trapped in his pants, twitching at the sight. He didn’t even notice as her hands started to unbutton his shirt. That was until she started kissing at each newly revealed piece of skin. He sucked in a harsh breath at the touch of her lips.

“You always get to see me like that.” She said between kisses. And he could’ve argued that it had only ever been twice, but he didn’t want to know what would happen if he interrupted her wrath. “And yet you always hide from me.”

“I don’t hide from you.” Joel countered, his knuckles white from his grip on the sheets beneath him. “You’re just not the opportunist like I am.” 

A surge of pride spread out under Joel’s skin as Y/N’s sweet laughter bubbled into the air. The sound of it doing as much to him as her moans did. He loved hearing her laugh. Like it was proof that she was actually happy with him. Though he supposed the proof was right in front of him, as she continued to leave loving kisses across his chest.

Joel’s shirt was finally discarded, granting Y/N the sight she had been desperate to see for so long. A beauty to behold. He wasn’t exactly all hard lines and jagged edges. But he was strong and large, and soft in the places he needed to be. His skin was tanned and taut over muscles that could only be carved by the waves of a raging sea. But there were scars left behind, probably a result of tragedies endured on his countless journeys. Y/N left a soft kiss over each one.

And then her hands were soon preoccupied by a new task, the metal parts of his belt clanking against each other as she removed the constriction.

Joel waited with bated breath. He had to force himself not to ask if she was really sure about this. Because if she wasn’t, she definitely would not be slowly sliding open the zipper to his pants. Or then tugging them down his thick thighs, revealing the black fabric of his boxer briefs. And she definitely would not now be palming at the bulge between his legs. Which she was.

A groan fell from his lips once she had her hand squeezing at his erection. His hips jutted forward into her palm, his need for her touch too obvious for his own good. His eyes flickered up to find a look of pure wonder on the woman’s features, maybe she was surprised she could elicit such reactions from him. 

“Feel’s s’ good, baby.” He reassured, the words falling from his lips between soft grunts of pleasure. Y/N’s eyes snapped up to meet his. He stared back, lids hooded over darkened eyes overblown with lust. His hips were now rolling up into her hand, over and over, unable to stop.

“Really?” She squeaked.

“Yeah.” He grunted out, any coherent sentences lost to him as lust overtook him. Especially when her fingers hooked around the hem of his underpants, pushing them down to follow the path of his pants.

He gasped when the cold air hit his burning erection.

She gasped at the sight of it.

His cock sprang up once it was finally free from its confines, the tip hitting his lower belly, leaving behind a splotch of precum against his skin. And Joel was right… he was big. It was thick, just like the rest of him, with protruding veins running up the side. The head of it was red and angry, shining with the proof of his arousal. 

And surprisingly, despite the aggressive look of his erection, the woman wasn’t scared like she thought she’d be. Instead she was drawn to it. Drawn to him. Because she was drawn to every part of him. So there was no time wasted when her smaller hand wrapped around his length.

Joel cursed under his breath, head falling back against the headboard with a dull thud. Just the touch of her hand already had him weak, ready to unravel. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to last once he finally felt the tight confines of her cunt fluttering around him. So for now he enjoyed the soft touch of her hand, closing his eyes as her thumb spread his precum over the tip with gentle touches. 

She was slow with her movements, which was alright by Joel. It granted him time to breathe, as well as the fact that this was the first time she’s ever done anything like this. He didn't need to move any faster than this if she didn't want to. His arousal sat low in his belly, happily waiting in the anticipation. 

Though, his blood spiked when he felt the wet touch of her tongue against the head of his cock.

“W-what are you doin’?” He asked, head snapping up to find her crouched down at his waist, hands splayed out on his thighs. She looked up at him through her lashes, tongue still unyielding against him. It was a sight he had dreamt about and longed for, but he never expected her to do anything like this tonight.

“You did this for me, right?” Y/N said between the tiny kitten licks she administered,  “‘m only returning the favor.”

“You don’t have to do that.” He replied, shaking his head slightly. He brought a hand to her jawline, ready to pull her away from his erection, “You don’t owe me anythin’.”

“Okay… Well then it’s because I want to.” She countered, ignoring the presence of his hand and dipping her head downwards again. This time she wrapped her moistened lips over the entire tip. 

“Fuck.” He hissed into the air, his hand moving from her cheek to her hair. He tried to be gentle with his grip, knowing she was new to all of this, but it was increasingly difficult to do so. Especially when she hummed in pleasure around his cock, seemingly relishing in the slight pain of having her hair pulled. She swirled her tongue around him, pulling a stuttering whimper from his lips.

She looked up at him at the sound. His head was thrown back once again, a thin layer of sweat coating his skin, he was breathing harshly through his nose, his handsome features twisted with euphoria. And it was all because of her. 

Y/N felt as more wetness pooled between her legs and dripped down her inner thighs, she squirmed slightly as her arousal increased once again. As it turned out, she seemed to like having Joel like this, writhing under her in immense pleasure, whimpering from the touch of her tongue. She wondered if this is how he felt when he did the same thing to her. If he was this hard in her mouth because he gained pleasure from her pleasure. The thought spurred her on, moving her mouth further down his length.

Another deep groan rumbled out from his chest, eliciting a sound of affirmation from the woman, the vibration of her vocal chords shooting electricity through his body. He glanced back down at her, watching as she took him in as deep as she could.

“God, you look s’ pretty like that.”

And she did. Her mouth around his rigid cock, tears filling her eyes as he pushed deeper down her throat, her pupils blown out with need for him. He could cum to that sight. No— he was going to cum at the sight. He could feel the coil deep in his core about to snap as she continued. But he wasn’t going to let it end here. 

“W-wait. Please, darlin’, you have to stop.” Joel said softly, as he gently pulled her off of him, Y/N’s features held a look of confusion and disappointment. 

“Did I do something wrong?” She asked as he pulled her into his lap, his burning shaft now pressing nicely against the curve of her backside. He could feel how wet she was as she pressed her center into his lower abdomen, soaking the coarse hair spattered across the skin there. 

“No.” He shook his head, “No, you were absolutely perfect, sweetheart. I just… I want to be inside you before I finish.”

“Oh.” Y/N smiled shyly, her head dipping down in slight embarrassment. “Okay.”

“Do you think you’re ready for me?” He asked tenderly, placing kisses onto her cheeks. She closed her eyes against his kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and nodding her head.

Soon she was on her back, head surrounded by Joel’s fluffy pillows. The sun had slowly dipped further down towards the horizon, only leaving a little bit of light left in the room. It was soft and gentle, caressing the two of them in dimming shades of blue. Joel braced himself over her, bicep flexing when he lowered himself to leave a kiss against her lips. 

“I’ll start slow.” He whispered to her afterwards, leaning his forehead onto hers, a large hand smoothing over her outer thigh. The pressure of his fingertips were somehow soft within his guiding grasp, positioning her leg over his hip. A shock of pleasure erupted in Y/N’s core as she felt the length of Joel’s cock nestle in between her folds at this new position. Joel’s shoulders trembled, breathing growing heavy, his reaction to the same thing.

Y/N’s own breath hitched in her throat as Joel’s hands snaked between them. He wrapped his calloused fingers around his shaft, guiding the tip through Y/N’s slit and brushing it lightly against her clit. Simultaneous gasps intermingled in the air between their lips as they relished in the sensation. 

“Joel.” Y/N whimpered, the unsaid words begging for more. He only nodded in return, his attention locked on the space between their hips, slowly growing smaller as he finally pushed the head of his cock inside of her.

Y/N could immediately tell the difference between this and his fingers. Before was barely anything compared to this. Now she was finally full, finally complete. And it was only the beginning as Joel slowly pushed himself deeper.

She whined at the stretch of him, fingernails scratching over his back. Joel wasn’t any better, hiding his face in the crook of her neck, releasing the most sinful of moans as he was slowly sucked in by her tight, wet warmth. The feel of her around him was more incredible than he imagined. So much so that he pushed in faster than intended, earning a sharp gasp from the woman beneath him. He stilled, immediately.

“Are you okay?” He asked, pulling away from her neck to gauge her true reaction. Her eyes were shut, bottom lip tucked between her teeth.

“‘m alright.” She replied, her heavy breathing causing her sensitive nipples to brush against Joel's chest, another spark of arousal surged through her bones. Another harsh moan was released from the man above her.

“Shit— baby, don’t do that.” He gritted his teeth.

Unknown to Y/N, when that bout of pleasure had traveled the length of her body, she had clenched around him at the sensation. The instance of which made Joel feel as though he might burst into flames. His cock jerked inside of her, the coil returning, slowly starting to unravel. 

“Think you can take any more?” Joel questioned, once he could calm his beating heart as much as he could have.

“There’s more?” She stammered, confused since she already felt so full.

“Y-yeah there’s more.” Joel told her, trying his hardest not to move an inch, the task becoming increasingly difficult. Y/N released a shuddering breath.

“Yeah.” She nodded, “I can take it.”

“That’s my girl.” Joel chuckled airily, the affirmation causing a nice pool of warmth to settle in Y/N’s belly. But the feeling was soon replaced by the head of Joel’s cock as it moved deeper inside of her, the length of him making her believe he was truly proding into her stomach. 

Slowly but surely the rest of him was sheathed inside of her, proven by the soft tickle of his pubic hair against her inner thighs. Joel let himself rest inside of her, allowing her to adjust to his size, his breathing deep and heavy as her walls squeezed around his cock. 

She started squirming beneath him, desperate for him to do more.

“Please Joel.” She whimpered, “Move.”

“You want me to move, sweetheart?” He murmured, nipping at her earlobe with his teeth, her desperation causing something wicked within him to start teasing. 

“Y-yes please, Joel. I need you.” She breathed, squeezing around him again. “Want you to fuck me.”

Joel’s entire body lurched at the words that slipped from her tongue. His heart hammering against his ribcage as it was completely unexpected. It caught him off guard, but he regained his bearings quickly, shaking free from the surprise as he took enjoyment from her dirty language.

“You do, huh?” He mumbled back, feeling her nod into his shoulder. “Is that what you want? For me t’ fuck you?”

“Yes.” She whined, a bit impatiently, more soft chuckles tumbled out of his lips.

“Okay, sweetheart.” He answered, “Anythin’ for you.”

And then he started moving. Slowly, so torturously slowly, sliding out until it was just his head that was left inside of her. Then, just as slowly he would sink all the way back in. He did that over and over again, causing an onslaught of pleasure to rip through the girl as the grooves of his cock carved into her walls so deliciously. She was a mess beneath him, shuddering and gasping with each slow movement he made.

Y/N arched into him, hands grasping at his back as he dipped his head, placing a kiss to her shoulder, moaning softly into her skin. Pleasure radiated throughout her body at every point of contact his skin had with hers, burning the brightest where the two of them connected. Even more so as Joel started to gradually speed up, still making long deep thrusts, but a little faster each time.

The bed started creaking beneath them, mixing in with the sound of their sensual moans as well as their skin slapping together in time with Joel’s thrusts. A cacophony of pleasure swirling around the room and serenading this moment as they finally connected in the way they always wanted to. 

The sting of Joel’s size was now long forgotten as Y/N savored in the pleasure of him. Her arms were wound tightly around his neck, holding his head into her shoulder. She could feel his lips pressing into her skin, leaving deliberate kisses after each thrust. Her legs soon followed the same pattern as her arms, looping around his waist, pulling his body in close. Now there was no part of them left untouching. 

His own arm soon snaked around her waist, drawing her in even closer if that was possible, her clit now firmly pressed against his pelvic bone. Y/N threw her head back with a deep moan, Joel’s lips attaching to her neck in record time. The heat low in her stomach returned from before, signifying that everything soon would come crashing down in a crescendo. 

Joel’s cock twitched inside of her as he felt her walls fluttering around him. His own impending orgasm weighing heavy in his chest. He pulled his lips away from her skin.

“Look at me.” He said softly, despite the fact that his thrusts became sloppier by the second, his pace staggering as he involuntarily thrusted harder inside of her.

Y/N— despite struggling under the onslaught of her own oncoming orgasm, opened her eyes for him, meeting his soft brown gaze as they chased their highs. It was strange to see that gaze in this context, especially since the first time she saw it she would have never guessed this is where it would bring her. But now that she was here she couldn’t ask for anything she wanted more.

Except for one thing.

“Kiss me.” She said in return, and since Joel couldn’t deny her of anything, he did just that, bringing their lips together in a tender kiss. The touch of it sending Y/N over the edge.

Joel felt as she came around his cock, squeezing onto him like a velvet vice, her cum gushing out around the base of him, soaking his skin. He moaned deep and heavy at the sensation, his own orgasm on the precipice. He placed his thumb on Y/N’s clit— hoping that will be enough to help her down from her high— as he pulled himself out of her.

He grunted with each spurt of cum splattering itself onto Y/N’s stomach, his free hand tight around his shaft, the length of it jerking in his hand. His thighs tensed as his orgasm shot out from his hips, shoulders trembling from the pleasure of it all, his heart racing.

Then, as the euphoria began to fade, his legs were weak as he sat back on his knees, chest heaving as he looked down at the mess he made on his beautiful wife. 

His cum was shining white against her skin, the gleam of it reflecting in the moonlight as her stomach moved up and down with each passing of her shallow breaths. Her limbs were limp against the mattress, eyes hooded as exhaustion took over her form. He smiled softly at the sight of her, sliding a hand underneath her to bring her up to his level. He pulled her into his lap, holding her flush against his chest—  not caring that his cum was now smeared across his own stomach.

“You did so well, sweetheart.” He whispered to her, stroking his knuckles across her cheekbone, she leaned into his touch, humming in content. Joel leaned forward, placing a kiss on her forehead.

They sat like that for a minute, savoring the silence between them and the embrace of their lover. But it didn't last too long as Joel spoke once more.

“Come on.” He abruptly said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, taking Y/N with him as he did. She whined when she realized she was being pulled away from the comfort of a warm bed.

“What? Why? I wanna sleep.” She argued when her feet hit the wooden floor beside his own, moving to dive back under the covers. He caught hold of her before she could.

“We gotta wash up.” Joel countered, pulling her towards the door that sat in the corner of the room, the mystery (that was not so mysterious) soon to be revealed.

“And then we can go to bed?” She questioned, as her shaking legs became more willing to follow him

“Not quite.” Joel grinned, guiding her into the shower. When she offered him a look of confusion at his words, he answered the question written on her face.

“We still have to make dinner.”

And soon, after all the proof of their passion was washed clean from their skin, underneath swirling puffs of cedar-scented steam and occasionally interrupted by stolen kisses, the two of them made their way down to their kitchen. And an hour later, as they sat across the table from one another, under the golden glow of their kitchen light. They divulged in their carefully prepared meal, sharing shy smiles and fleeting glances between each bite. The sight of them alone contradicting any statement that the island they resided on didn’t live up to its name. 

~~~

A/N: honestly this fic was born because of the smut scene in the kitchen, i can't lie 😩 and then i rewatched the music video for adore you by harry styles so i wanted this oneshot to be something romantic and whimsical in it's nature, so i hope that came across. Is it corny? yes! but I had so much fun writing this so i hope you had fun too!!! thank you so much for taking the time to read my work !! and now i'll be leaving, goodbye forever!! <33

[cactuscoolerr]

pushing out the sleeveless rin agenda from the recent bllk chapters,,, just thinking hard,, hes soooooooo-&;&1@;82& the people need your big brain thoughts.

rin thoughts (ㅅ´ ˘ `)

omg do not even mention this to me.. i’ve genuinely been thinking ab it since i saw the leaks i’m actually losing my mind he’s so gorgeous omg

ANYWAY

since i’ve been thinking ab that panel so much, i’ve also just thought ab rin and his exposed arms in general LOL and to be honest, i don’t think rin thinks about himself and his physique as much as i think he should 😭 i feel like rins one of those people that doesn’t realize how insanely attractive he is. like he does NOT understand it when girls come up to him and fawn over him omg..

but that’s a different thing lol i’m just typing what comes to mind.. but yeah rin and his arms..

i personally think rin has somewhat of a sleeper build (stole that term tbh. don’t ask me ab body types..) like his abs and thighs are insane but his arms? they look bigger than the average persons but still kinda small UNTIL he flexes omg.. i’m drooling. he’s so hot. omg.

and i only say this sleeper build thing bc his arms look small in the panel.. other than that i’m all for big strong beefy adult pro football player rin mwah i’m in love.

but anyway. since i also think rin isn’t that aware of himself and his looks, he definitely doesn’t understand why you (his gf ofc) LOVES it when he’s shirtless, wearing a sleeveless shirt, or is wearing a tighter shirt. like he just knows ur up to no good when ur acting all suspicious when he’s wearing something that’s shows off his arms 😭

but what he does know is that u love clinging to his arms because u think ur boyfriend is just so big and strong and it’s sexy as hell. it’s so much that ur just mesmerized at the sight of rin freshly out of the shower, his skin flushed and dripping with water.. his arms dripping with water omg.. just being able to see that is a treat..

anyway. i’m rambling. sorry.. but yeah that’s my thoughts.. might write a fic.. idk if it should be sfw or nsfw though (or both..) i’m very interested in this topic so i’d probably write it super fast too LOL

BUT if u haven’t seen it, this is the sleeveless rin. he’s so perfect omg..

[agaypanic]

The Fella Part 11 (James Maguire X Quinn!Reader)

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Summary: As prom approaches, the girls find a strange friend in the new Our Lady Immaculate student. 

A/N: ahhhh only one chapter left!!! i usually don’t say the word count in fics, but this is the longest chapter of The Fella and possibly my longest fic to date, its almost 9k words long. So just a warning for yall. like the last few chapters, thanks to @crumpets-are-better-with-jam for writing out the script of this episode for me. Some suggestive stuff (not talking about michelle lol), but the characters are 17 and it’s not explicit. If you’re gonna be like “this surprise character you put in totally wouldn’t do this” just keep it to yourself bc i can do what i want, im the god of my creation (im so fucking crazy)

***

School formals were always exciting. At least, if you went with exciting people. And if it was a formal at the end of the year, it was even better because you could celebrate school ending and a summer of fun beginning.

One of the reasons Y/n and her friends were looking forward to the end of term was because they wouldn’t have to hear Jenny Joyce’s horrendous singing for a few months. Everyone in the assembly seemed to share their sentiment as they all stared at the stage, uninterested and displeased. It didn’t help that the girls were dressed in striped suit jackets, making them look like some sort of barbershop quartet. Y/n cringed as Jenny and her friends sang their last note, which wasn’t very good.

There was a slight pause, and Sister Michael looked relieved that this was the song’s end. “Lovely…” It was clear that she didn’t really think so. “And I believe you wrote the lyrics yourselves, is that correct?”

“It is indeed, Sister,” Jenny responded smugly.

“Makes sense,” Y/n muttered to her friends. “It was a load of shite.” They all made quiet sounds of agreement before turning their attention back to the stage.

“Do you ever think you might have too much time on your hands, girls?” Jenny and her group didn’t respond, but there was a murmur of giggles among the crowd as Sister Michael stood from her chair. “Lose the jackets.” She said, dismissing them from the stage before stepping up to the microphone. “Okay, just a couple of things. Firstly, I’d like to introduce Mae Cheung. Can you make yourself known, please, Mae?”

A few rows before the girls, a hand slowly and awkwardly rose into the air in the middle of the crowd. Everyone tried to get a good look at her, but it was difficult since most people could only see the back of her head.

“Miss Cheung’s family have recently moved here to Derry, so I hope you’ll all make her feel very welcome. It’s bound to be a bit of a culture shock, Mae. Things are done differently in this part of the world. But I’m sure you’ll soon feel as at home here as you did back in your beloved Donegal.” There was a beat of silence before Sister Michael remembered the other announcement she needed to make. She pulled out a piece of paper, looking at the crowd before reading it. “Announcement from Jenny Joyce and the dance committee: ‘The school social event for the year is fast approaching, but before you… don your glad rags… and- boogie- on- down…’” She sighed, looking at the paper appalled. “I’m sorry, I simply cannot read this.” She stepped away from the microphone, giving Jenny Joyce the paper before sitting in her chair.

Jenny eagerly went to the mic, showing too much energy and enthusiasm for a Monday morning with her big grin and little dance moves as she spoke. “But before you don your glad rags and boogie on down, we’d like to let you in on our little secret. We’re not actually gonna have a school formal this year.”

The assembly went into an uproar, and rightfully so. There were some murmurs of disbelief and booing, and Jenny waved her hands around with a smile.

“No, listen. We’re not gonna have a school formal. We’re gonna have…” As she paused for effect, her three friends started singing ‘doo-be doo’s in the background. “A fifties prom!”

That caused even more of a reaction. Michelle and Y/n were pretty vocal about this silly decision, gaining the attention of Sister Michael. “Girls!” She said, effectively quieting the large room. She addressed all the students, but her somewhat mischievous gaze was on Y/n and Michelle. “If you have any feedback, you can find Miss Joyce after assembly.”

“I know, I know.” Jenny laughed off everyone’s reactions. “But I do love a theme. Sure, isn’t that why they call me the Theme Queen?”

The girls looked at each other, confused. “Who said that?” Y/n asked.

“Do they?” Clare questioned.

“Do they fuck.” Michelle answered.

Jenny continued, not having heard their little conversation. “We wanted to have a real, old school, retro, vintage vibe, so feel free to just go for it!”

“Feel free to kiss my hole,” Michelle muttered.

After being released by Sister Michael, the girls and James walked through the hallways, discreetly looking for someone. Turning into one of the halls with a wall of lockers, Clare gasped.

“There she is.” Everyone saw the new girl, Mae, at her locker. Clare turned around to face her friends, filled with her usual frantic energy. “Okay, so, I say we just go over there and be ourselves, girls. Well, not totally ourselves. We should definitely be a bit ourselves. We could also pretend we’re sort of better than we actually are, so, I supposed what I’m saying is we could present a version of ourselves as less-”

“Shit.” Y/n finished the sentence, giving Clare a much-needed break to breathe.

“Precisely.”

“Why do we even have to talk to her?” Michelle asked, her crabby mood from having to listen to Jenny earlier still present.

Clare rolled her eyes, thinking the answer was obvious. “Because she’s new, Michelle.”

Michelle groaned. “I hate people I don’t know.”

“Aw.” Y/n cooed, putting an arm around her friend’s shoulder. “Does that mean you love us?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” She answered, shoving Y/n’s arm off.

“And, in case you hadn’t noticed, she happens to be Chinese.” Clare continued. “I mean, how class would it be to have a Chinese friend?”

“We could keep her in my toy box.” Y/n and Erin looked at their cousin with alarm.

“No, we couldn’t, Orla.”

“That’s kidnapping, I’m pretty sure.”

“She’d definitely fit,” Orla said adamantly.

“That’s not the point.”

“Fine.” Michelle was clearly ignoring the strange side conversation. “But can we agree it’s on a strict one-in-one-out basis? If she joins the group, James has to leave.”

Everyone responded in agreement, except for Y/n and James, of course. The girls made their way over to the new girl, leaving the couple confused.

“Excuse me?” James said to no one in particular, but then frowned at his girlfriend. “Are they serious?”

Y/n snorted, grabbing James’ arm. “Probably.” Without further elaboration, she pulled the boy towards the rest of their friends. Despite only being separated for a short time, it seemed that James and Y/n had missed some secondhand embarrassment from Clare’s brief interaction with the new girl, Mae.

Mae stared at Clare for a moment before looking at the group. “Is she alright?”

Michelle leaned down to Clare’s ear, rolling her eyes. “Burnin’ for you, Clare.”

“It’s Cantonese.” Clare stuttered out to Mae.

“Right. Well, I’m from Donegal, and we speak English there.”

“If you say so, Mae,” Michelle said. “But I spent a summer in Killybegs, and seriously, not a fuckin’ word.” Y/n elbowed her friend in the side, making a comment about how that might’ve been more of an issue with Michelle’s intelligence than with the town of Killybegs.

Clare smiled kindly at Mae, trying to amend the awkward situation. “We just wanted to introduce ourselves and-”

“-Okay, I think I see where this is going.” Mae interrupted, holding up her hand to further silence the short blonde. “I get this a lot. Dull, white girls want me to join their gang because, well…” Mae gestured to herself to finish the point. 

“We’re not dull,” Erin argued.

“Sure.”

Y/n pointed to James. “And he’s a boy.”

“A man, Y/n.” James corrected, as if he had had this conversation many times. “I’m a man.”

“Woah.” Mae almost laughed. “She has a really fucked up accent.”

“We know,” Michelle said with a sigh.

James leaned into his girlfriend, slightly offended. “I’m not a girl; I’m a man.”

“Sure you are, Jamie,” Y/n said, patting his cheek before focusing back on the main conversation.

Mae sighed, slinging her bag over her shoulder and looking the group over with a judging look. “What’s in this for me?” She asked. “What do you bring to the table?”

Orla held out her hand. “Six cream crackers?”

Y/n snatched one of the crackers and put it in her mouth, looking at Mae. “Five cream crackers.” She corrected. Mae raised her brow at the two girls.

“I’m good for cream crackers, thank you.” Her tone was filled with sass, but Orla didn’t catch it, so she just shrugged and put them back in her pocket. Mae slammed her locker closed and gave the girls one last look. “I’ll see you around, girls.”

The group disappointedly watched her walk off. Except for Orla, because the girl was an optimist through and through. “Maybe we don’t need a Chinese person.” She said. “We’ve still got a lesbian.”

Suddenly, Mae whipped her head back around. “What? Who?” She quickly walked back to the girls. Timidly, Clare raised her hand.

“Me.”

Mae didn’t look too convinced. “Really? You don’t look like a lesbian.”

Y/n put a protective arm around Clare, almost standing in front of her. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” She asked inquisitively. Mae’s sudden interest and then questioning of Clare being a lesbian was making Y/n wonder if the girls should even try to get her to be their friend.

Mae seemed to ignore Y/n, instead giving Clare a once-over. “It’s just that you’re a bit… short.”

“Well, there’s no height restrictions.” Clare rebutted before glancing at Y/n a bit anxiously. “As far as I’m aware.”

“Interesting.” Mae started looking like she was putting together a scheme in her head. “I’ve always wanted a gay friend. I mean, ideally, a fella-”

“Oh, we’ve got one right here.” Michelle laughed, pointing to her cousin. He and Y/n looked at her with exasperation.

“I’m not gay!”

“He’s not gay!”

“Howdy, folks.” The girls recognized the voice instantly, cringing at the sight of Jenny Joyce, who had now intercepted the entire interaction. Michelle made her distaste for the girl known with an eye roll and a little curse. Jenny ignored it. “I’m Jenny. This is Aisling.” She pointed to the tall brunette who seemed to always be by her side. “We just thought we’d introduce ourselves and see if-”

Clare jumped between Jenny and Mae, throwing her arms out to shield the new girl from Jenny. “Too late, Jenny. She’s ours.”

“I see,” Jenny responded, looking amused and alarmed by Clare before looking back to Mae. “Look, these girls are great, but I do have a pen pal from the Caribbean, so perhaps my circle is a bit more diverse.”

“Back. Off.” Clare seethed, her intensity starting to startle her friends.

Jenny managed to hand Mae a piece of paper with her phone number scribbled on it. “Think about it. Give me a call.” She was finally about to walk away when she remembered something and spun back around to the group. “Oh! And F-Y-I, the Prom Queen vote closes today.”

“F-Y-I, nobody gives a shit,” Michelle remarked.

Aisling held out a piece of paper, waiting for someone to take it. “Here’s the wee ballot.”

Erin snatched it quickly, rolling her eyes when she read the list of candidates. “I see you’ve thrown your hat in the ring, Jenny.”

The girl waved her hand, her humility clearly faked. “I had my arm twisted, but feel free to tick my box.” Then she finally left, Aisling in tow.

Y/n snorted. “I didn’t know Jenny was like that.”

“Dirty bitch.” Michelle added, shaking her head.

***

After school, the girls decided to go to the shopping center instead of straight home. After all, they had much to discuss. After hopping off the bus, they started their trek into town. 

“This prom is going to be a full-blown dick fest.” Michelle started, the word ‘prom’ catching everyone’s attention. “Y’know there’s not even gonna be a DJ? Apparently, Jenny’s hired this fuckin’ pensioner band.”

“Fucks sake.” Y/n sighed.

“Christ, really?” Erin asked.

Michelle nodded. “I heard the drummer is at least thirty.” Seeing the smirk she wore when dropping that piece of information, Clare’s mouth dropped in horror.

“I don’t feel so bad about missing it now,” James said, feeling a sense of relief. “It clashes with my thing.”

Y/n confusedly looked at her boyfriend, unaware of what his ‘thing’ was. But before she could ask, Michelle rolled her eyes and looked back at her cousin. “The creep convention? Seriously?”

“It’s not a creep convention!”

Michelle shrugged, clearly not convinced. “Well, I think a load of perverts gettin’ together to wank over some fella who fights hoovers and rides aliens in a telephone box, is the very fuckin’ definition of a creep convention.”

James scoffed. “It’s a Doctor Who night. Me and my stepdad used to watch it when I was little.”

“Well, someone should’ve called Social Services then, James.”

“You’re not going to the prom then, James?” Clare asked, seeming offended. He shook his head, and Clare looked over to Y/n, who was already looking at her with a confused and disappointed look.

Eventually, the group reached the shopping center. The conversation moved to the topic of dates, or lack thereof.

“I have no clue who to ask.” Clare sighed, a bit frustrated. “I’d ask James, but-” She cut herself off, remembering that she was the only one completely aware of the relationship between James and one of her best friends. 

“But you’re not desperate, Clare.” Michelle finished her sentence with a laugh. “And tell me about it. There’s at least five fellas who fancy the arse off’a me, but I just can’t choose.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely the same,” Clare responded with a grumpy face and monotonous tone.

Erin nudged the small blonde with her elbow. “I’ll be your date, Clare.”

“But, Erin, people might talk. They might get the wrong idea.”

“Let them.” She said proudly, head held high. “We need to break down these ridiculous conventions.”

Y/n would’ve commented about her sister’s somewhat fake activism, but she kept her mouth shut after seeing the hopeful look on dear Clare’s face. “Thank you.” 

Erin would have responded to Clare if she hadn’t caught sight of a familiar face. Through the window of the cafe the girls were walking to, Erin could see a boy about their age sitting at a far table with a girl, and they both looked somewhat miserable. “Oh God, John-Paul’s over there,” Erin said stiffly, turning around to look at her friends. “Christ, but it’s been so awkward since we broke up.”

“For fuck’s sake, Erin,” Michelle said, remembering the event a bit differently than how Erin was painting it. “He kissed your cheek at Kerry Coyle’s sixteenth birthday party.”

“Didn’t he pass out in his own boke?” Y/n asked, recalling the embarrassing moment. “Feckin’ lightweight.”

Erin looked over her shoulder back at John-Paul. “Yeah, he missed that boat, alright.”

“Come on already.” Michelle opened the door, pushing the girls into the cafe. “I’m fucking starving.”

James was about to go inside but was held back by Y/n. The door closed after Orla, leaving the couple outside.

“Are you okay, Y/n?” James asked, as curious and thoughtful as ever.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the convention?” 

James cringed at the twinge of hurt in her voice, realizing that he had never told her about the Doctor Who convention and how it was the same night at prom. “I… forgot?”

“You’re really gonna go?” Y/n didn’t want to start a fight over this, but she thought her boyfriend would have debated between prom and the convention, or tell her that he had plans at the very least. James nodded. “I just thought that, you know, prom is usually a couple’s thing. And we’re a couple. I thought it might be fun to go together.”

“I can go to prom if you want me to,” James said, wanting to please his girlfriend. 

But that caused the opposite reaction. Y/n shook her head, a slight frown appearing on her face. “I don’t wanna force you to go, James. You can obviously go to the convention if you really want to. I just…” She sighed, getting a little worked up. “I just wish you would’ve told me first, that’s all.”

James nodded apologetically. “I was going to, Y/n, I swear. It just slipped my mind.”

“It’s fine.”

The two stood outside the cafe door, wondering if there was anything more to say or if they should go inside. 

“You know, just because I’m not going doesn’t mean you don’t have to go,” James said, giving his girlfriend a hopeful look. “I mean, if you want to go, of course.”

Y/n nodded. “I’ll think about it.”

Another pause. “We’re okay, right?”

The slightly scared look on James’ face, like he had done something wrong, made Y/n place her hands on his cheeks and sweep her thumbs over his cheekbones in a comforting motion. “Of course, we’re okay, Jamie.” To emphasize the point, she gave him a peck on the lips before letting go of his face and grabbing his hand. “Now let’s go inside, I’m hungry.”

When they entered the cafe, James walked Y/n to the table their friends were sitting at and pulled out a chair for her to sit in before going to the counter to order for the both of them. “She is not a model!” Erin responded sharply to something Y/n had missed.

“Who’s not a model?” She asked quickly, and her friends looked at her like they didn’t realize she had just now entered the conversation.

“Cara something,” Michelle answered, not very discreetly pointing over to the girl sitting with John-Paul. “The girl that that John-Paul fella is pokin’. Heard she’s gonna be on Baywatch.”

“Oh yeah, I heard that too.”

Erin groaned in frustration, looking at her sister. “Get real, Y/n. She’s not gonna be on Baywatch.”

“It’s just what I heard.”

“Oh my God.” Clare seemed to be the only one still paying attention to John-Paul and the supposed Baywatch model. “Looks like they’re breaking up.”

The girls looked at the couple. Erin almost snapped her neck with how fast she turned her head. “Jesus, are they really?” She wondered aloud, a bit too hopefully. “Are they breaking up?” Cara got up and left the table, leaving a broken-hearted John-Paul to watch her walk away. Erin’s eyes also followed the girl, but she seemed much more gleeful about Cara’s departure. “They are. They’re breaking up. This is class!”

“What?” Clare asked, being the voice for the perplexed group of girls.

“Later.” 

As soon as Cara was out the door, Erin jumped out of her seat and sped over to John-Paul.

“What’s class?” James startled the girls as he set some food and drinks on the table before sitting in the empty chair beside Y/n.

“Remember how we were talking about that lad John-Paul?” Y/n asked, taking a sip of her drink as James nodded. “Well, him and the girl he was with, who’s gonna be on Baywatch, by the way, broke up, and she left him. So now Erin’s swooped in like a vulture.”

“She has no respect for herself,” Michelle commented, looking over the menu on the table. “And coming from me…”

“That is bad.” Clare frowned.

“Terrible even,” Y/n added.

“Exactly.”

Clare, Orla, and Michelle soon got up and went to the counter to order. This gave Erin privacy to bother John-Paul, who looked like he was seconds away from a breakdown, and allowed Y/n and James to have lunch and talk in peace. 

“Can I have a bite of your sandwich?” The girl asked, pointing at the nibbled-on food in front of James.

“If I can have a bite of your doughnut.” He responded, pointing his own finger to the sweet treat.

The couple nodded in agreement and held their food to each other’s mouths. They took a bite at the same time, mumbling about how good the food was while chewing.

“What’re you doing?” Michelle asked, her lip curling in a slight snarl as she, Clare, and Orla came back to the table.

“What?” Y/n asked, not noticing James taking a second bite of her doughnut.

“You’re looking like you’re going out or something,” Michelle explained, wagging her finger between the two teens. “It’s making me sick. Like, if someone thought I was goin’ out with James, I think I’d kill myself.”

“Hey!”

“Well, he is your cousin, Michelle.” Y/n laughed. 

Her friend shrugged and sat down, muttering about how the English thing was worse before talking to Clare about something else. With the attention off of them, Y/n reached down to squeeze James’ hand and smiled at him. But the smile was soon wiped off her face when she realized her doughnut was now half eaten.

***

Erin boasted about her new prom date the entire walk home, much to everyone else’s outspoken chagrin and annoyance. James, Michelle, and Clare were lucky, because they didn’t live in the McCool-Quinn household. So after the three dispersed from the group to go to their own homes, Y/n and Orla had to hear about Erin’s plans to get a new dress and maybe even new shoes to impress John-Paul for their date.

Then, the rest of their family got to hear about it.

“This is a huge deal.” Erin insisted to her mother that she was following around the kitchen. “This is a massive, massive deal. I’m going to the prom with John-Paul O’Reilly, for God’s sake. Come on, Mammy!”

Mary shook her head. “I don’t care if you’re going to the prom with John Paul the Second, Erin. I’m not buying you another frock. End of story.”

“But, Mammy, you don’t understand.”

“There’s nothin’ wrong with your Easter dress.”

Erin scoffed. “There’s lots of things wrong with my Easter dress.”

“It matches Y/n and Orla’s.” Mary persisted, waving her hand over to the girls she just named. Orla was wearing her Easter dress and holding her mother’s cigarette while she and Y/n pinched the fabric at her waist to see what had to be taken in.

“That being the main one.”

“Honestly, Erin, I think we’ll look so cracker if we rock up wearin’ these.” Orla grinned, doing a little shimmy with her words.

Erin raised her brows and gave her cousin a smile that looked more like a grimace. “Right, well I don’t.”

Aunt Sarah pulled more on the loose fabric, grabbing her cigarette from her daughter for a quick drag. “Ach, Mary, you’d think the wain’s been dropped into it. You wouldn’t nip it in a bit for her? I’d do it meself, but sewing plays havoc on my acrylics.”

“Fine.”

“Y/n, dear, can you pin it for me?” Sarah asked, gesturing to her nails. The girl nodded and grabbed some safety pins to cinch Orla’s dress. “Then afterward, Orla and I can do yours for you.”

“Nah, that’s fine,” Y/n replied. “Don’t think I’ll wear it.”

Orla gasped in disappointment, wondering why both her cousins didn’t want to match with her. Meanwhile, Erin kept trying to convince her mother she absolutely needed a new frock.

“I really like this fella, Mammy.”

“Well, if he really likes you, it won’t matter what you wear.”

“Ach, come off it!”

“Have you a date lined up, girls?” Aunt Sarah asked her daughter and niece before taking a drag of her cigarette. 

One seemed to be more enthusiastic about the question than the other. “I do, aye,” Orla answered.

“What?” Erin gave her cousin a strange look. “...With, like, a human?”

The girl blinked before nodding, like Erin was the strange one. “...Yeah.”

“What about you, love?” Sarah looked to Y/n, who was wrapped up in making sure she didn’t accidentally stab Orla. The girl looked up when she realized she was being spoken to. “Has anyone snatched you up for the dance yet?”

Y/n shook her head, trying to not seem so disappointed about it. “Nope. But it’s fine.” She sighed, going back to picking at her nails. “I dunno if I’m even gonna go.”

“What d’ya mean you’re not going?” Erin questioned, seeming offended that her sister would even debate not attending the prom. “You have to go.”

“Why do I have to go, Erin?”

Erin made that little sort of laugh and eye roll that she did when she felt like someone had said something silly or dumb, and she was about to correct it with her obvious intelligence. “It’s prom, Y/n. It’s a big deal.”

“It’s only prom-” Y/n was cut off by a commotion in the living room. Gerry yelped in surprise as Joe banged on something, but no one seemed to care enough to look at what was happening. She shook her head and continued. “Besides, Erin, there’ll be other proms. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Y/n could tell her sister wasn’t entirely convinced. To be perfectly honest, she wasn’t too convinced herself. But she’d rather lie and say she didn’t care than make James feel bad about being unable to take her.

Erin looked at Y/n inquisitively. She walked up to her and crossed her arms. “Is this because Ja-”

“This stupid prick’s broken the TV, Mary!” Joe cried out, and his daughter rushed to the living room. Gerry looked appalled at his father-in-law. “He’s been futterin’.”

“Excuse me, you’re the one that was thumpin’ it repeatedly, Joe.”

“I’ll thump you repeatedly.”

“Well, the pair of you’d better sort it out!” Mary interjected before walking over to her sister. “London’s Burning’s on in twenty minutes.”

“God, Mary, but them poor fellas are flat out with fires, so they are. Jesus, but they never get a minute.”

Behind Mary, Joe started to slam the television even harder than before, and Gerry cringed with every slap. “Aye, it’s a good job they keep themselves in such great shape.”

“Don’t, Mary.” Sarah gasped. “That Greek fella…”

“He could throw me over his shoulder any day of the week.”

Y/n and Erin stared at their mother and aunt before looking at each other. They were both equally horrified and disgusted.

“They make me sick.”

“Boke-o-rama.”

***

Clare didn’t take the news of Erin ditching her for John-Paul very well, despite telling Erin it was fine. Erin was the only one who believed her, too wrapped up in her and John-Paul’s revived “relationship.” But Clare pretty quickly found a new date: the new girl from Donegal, Mae, who was going dress shopping with the girls and James when she heard about Erin’s little betrayal. 

After Clare’s date problem was solved, the girls had to solve their dress problem. But Michelle came to the rescue—or rather, her mother’s credit card that she stole came to the rescue. Despite Clare’s very vocal opinion about committing a crime, the rest of the girls were on board on account of having no money.

“What do you think of this one?” Erin asked, coming out in a very tight, turquoise dress. 

“It’s very…” Y/n trailed off, trying to think of an appropriate word. “Different.”

“I’m not sure it’s you, really,” Michelle added.

“Good,” Erin said, in a bit of a struggle as she walked over to a mirror. “I don’t wanna be me.”

Clare walked up to the group, holding two dresses. “Which of these do you like best?”

“Definitely the pink,” Erin answered.

But Clare didn’t care much about Erin’s opinion. “Has to be the blue,” Mae said, and Clare glared at Erin.

“Yeah, I thought the blue.”

“What about you, Y/n?” James asked a bit quietly, holding a pile of dresses that all the girls had thrown at him. “Don’t you wanna look for a dress? You are going to the prom, right?”

He knew her answer before she said it, because she gave him a bit of a frown and a shrug. “I don’t think I will.”

“Y/n-”

“It’s fine, really! I was thinking of helping Daddy fix our TV.” She looked around at all the clothing racks before giving James what she hoped was a convincing smile. “Besides, nothing here’s really my taste.”

“Although, I have heard he’s really good with his hands.” Michelle talking about one of her possible dates reached the couples’ ears. “And when I say he’s good with his hands, I’m not talking about puttin’ up shelves, girls. I’m talking about-”

“Everybody knows what you’re talking about, Michelle.” James interrupted, hoping it would be enough for her to move on. But everybody also knew there was no stopping Michelle from her vulgarity.

The curly-haired girl smirked. “Fingerin’.”

James cringed. “Honestly…”

After much decision-making about what dresses to get, the girls went to the front to pay with Michelle’s stolen card. Mae, who didn’t find a dress she liked, gasped and pointed behind the counter to a red dress that was hung up. 

“Oh my God, that’s the one! Can I try that one on, please?”

“Sorry, love.” The shop owner said apologetically. “That’s being left over for someone.”

“What?”

“Hiya!” In came Jenny Joyce, holding a couple of balloons. “Sorry girls, can’t stop.”

“Don’t worry.” Y/n smiled. “No one asked you to.”

“I’m just grabbing a few wee bits for the prom.” Jenny continued while the owner started bagging up the red dress. “Sure, you know how it is.”

“I was actually about to try that one on,” Mae said, pointing to the dress Jenny was now paying for.

“Well, I left it over, so…”

“It’s just that, red’s my color.”

“Yeah, mine too.”

The rest of the girls backed up a bit, surprised by how hostile Mae and Jenny were becoming towards each other. “No, you don’t understand. I really, really suit it.” The shop owner placed the bag on the counter, and Mae inched her hand towards it. “Garnet’s actually my birthstone.”

“Well, ruby’s mine, so…” Jenny grabbed her bag, and Mae slammed her hand on the counter. She looked at the Joyce girl menacingly. If Jenny was intimidated, she definitely didn’t show it.

“I want that dress, Jenny.”

“Well, you can’t have it.” Jenny left the store, leaving the girls to deal with Mae, who was cursing her out and beyond livid.

***

Prom night had finally arrived after much anticipation. Erin was upstairs in her room getting ready on her own while Aunt Sarah was doing her daughter’s hair and makeup in the kitchen. Mary watched while sipping her tea because Erin didn’t want her help, and Y/n decided to help her father fix their busted television set instead of going to the dance. Granda Joe was nowhere to be found, which relieved Gerry a bit because it meant his father-in-law wasn’t criticizing him.

“Now, close your eyes,” Sarah said, picking up two giant cans of hairspray. “I’m just going to give you a wee light mist, just so it holds for you.”

Y/n could smell the fumes from her spot on the floor in the living room, so she could only imagine what it was like being her mother or cousin in the kitchen. A cloud of hairspray surrounded Orla, making her cough a bit, and Mary covered her tea.

Finally ready, Erin came down from her room and into the kitchen. It took her a bit of effort because her dress was so tight that she had to take baby steps in her heels. “What do you think?” Everyone looked at her, all seeming to have the same reaction.

Mary looked the most surprised by her daughter’s appearance. “God, aye. It’s…” She trailed off, wanting to be honest but nice about it. “Different, isn’t it?”

“Different?” Erin asked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well… it was nice of Michelle to lend it to you, love, but it just doesn’t look…” Mary grimaced, trying to choose her words carefully, “very comfortable.”

Erin rolled her eyes a little. “It’s really comfortable, actually.” She said, walking closer. “It’s like a second skin.”

“I don’t think that’s a good thing, Erin,” Y/n called out, handing Gerry a screwdriver. “I dunno if a second skin should be turquoise and… Well, squeaking when you walk.”

“It does not squeak,” Erin replied, squeaking as she hobbled to the table. 

Erin looked forward to see Orla looking at her grumpily. “I wish you would wear your Easter frock, Erin. When we were wee, we always went to parties dressed the same.”

“We’re not wee anymore, Orla.”

Orla grumbled in agreement while Erin handed her mother a piece of paper. Mary unfolded it and looked it over, and Aunt Sarah did the same from over her shoulder.

“What’s this?” Mary asked.

“It’s some guidelines,” Erin answered. “Things you are and aren’t allowed to say to John-Paul when he gets here.”

“Right.” Mary stared into her daughter’s eyes, not looking away as she crumpled the paper into a ball. Erin looked a bit disturbed but decided it was best not to say anything.

“What time’s your date arriving at, Orla, love?” Sarah asked, doing the final fixes on Orla’s hair.

Granda Joe waltzed into the room, wearing a white suit with a yellow rosette pinned to it. “He’s already here.” He said, doing a little spin before walking the rest of the way to the kitchen.

“You asked Granda to the prom?” Erin asked, smiling a little.

Orla’s grin was the widest in the bunch, eyes staying on her grandfather. “Well, everyone kept sayin’ you have to ask a fella you really like, and this is the fell I like the most.” Joe beamed, bowing down and presenting another yellow rose from his pocket for the girl.

“That’s so sweet, Orla.” Y/n said from her spot next to the TV. “Granda’s a lucky lad, that’s for sure.”

“Why, thank you, love,” Joe replied, turning to fully show his granddaughter the happy smile he had been sporting.

“Aye, you’re looking well, Joe,” Gerry added, taking a small break from trying to repair the television to weigh in.

“Oh, it’s not all shite you talk, Gerry.” Gerry gave his daughter an unimpressed look, making her giggle as he went back to the task at hand. Joe turned back to Orla. “Should we head?”

“John-Paul’s picking me up at seven,” Erin replied. “You go on; we’ll see you there.”

Joe looked back to Y/n, waiting for her answer. The girl waved her hand. “Oh, I’m not goin’. Don’t have a date and all that. Besides, I dunno what I’d wear.”

“You could wear your Easter frock, Y/n,” Orla said, trying to entice the girl once more into matching with her. But she just laughed and shook her head.

“No thanks, Orla.”

While Orla said goodbye to her mother and aunt, Joe walked over to Mary and whispered something to her. They looked over at Y/n, who didn’t notice their eyes because she was looking for a tool her father had asked for. Mary nodded at Joe for an unknown reason, and soon, he and Orla were off to the prom.

Erin sat down, struggling quite a bit because of her dress’s tightness. When she was settled, she looked at the clock. Only fifteen minutes until John-Paul arrived.

***

When twenty minutes had passed, Y/n knew John-Paul wasn’t coming for her sister. She couldn’t say she was surprised, but she was still saddened for her sister. “I’ll be right back, Daddy,” Y/n whispered before standing up and sneaking to the entrance where the phone and some privacy were.

Y/n knew she had to call someone, but was racking her brain on who. Everyone she knew was either at the prom or busy with something else. 

Suddenly, she jumped as if the idea that came to her had shocked her. She quickly dialed and held the phone to her ear, listening to the rings.

Then, someone finally picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“David?”

“Y/n?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” She peered out the door, seeing Erin still staring at the clock. “How’ve you been?”

“Same old stuff, really,” David answered. “Band’s picked up a few gigs this month, it’s been pretty-”

“That’s great. Listen, can you do me a favor?”

David couldn’t help but laugh at the interruption and how urgent Y/n sounded. “Uh, maybe? What d’ya need?”

“Remember my sister, Erin?” He made a small hum of confirmation. “Well, she used to have a massive thing for you until that whole thing at Jenny’s party a few months ago.”

“You mean when she called that Russian girl your fella was going out with a prostitute?”

“She was Ukrainian, but yes. Anyway, she pretty much gave up on you after that because the whole thing was so embarrassing. But…” Y/n looked to the kitchen again. She could see Mary looking at her daughter a bit sadly, as if she also knew John-Paul wasn’t coming for her. “The prom’s tonight, and her date’s not coming. And… as annoying as she is, she’s my sister and all. So I was wondering if maybe you’d be willing to-”

“I’ll be there at 7:30.” David cut her off, feeling it was only fair since she had interrupted him just moments ago.

Y/n had to keep herself from squealing, not wanting to give Erin the idea that something was going on. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

After saying a quick goodbye, Y/n hung up the phone and snuck back out to the living room. David would arrive in twenty minutes, and she just had to count on Erin being hopeful enough to wait that much longer. 

Nothing much had really happened in those twenty minutes. Y/n assisted Gerry in fixing their broken TV, Mary and Aunt Sarah played a card game, and Erin sat and stared at the clock. The only time she moved was to go to the phone in the kitchen, but she was so quiet and far away that Y/n had no idea who she was calling. 

When the clock struck 7:30, Erin sighed. “He’s not coming.”

“Ach, love.” Mary frowned.

“I’m gonna go and change.” That made Y/n panic, and she scrambled off of the floor.

“What?” She said, walking over to Erin and slightly shaking her head. “No, just give it a few more minutes.”

“I wanna get out of this thing.” Erin teared up, struggling to get out of her chair. With how tight the dress was, she started to waddle towards the stairs.

Y/n was hot on her sister’s heels, which wasn’t hard because moving was so difficult for her in that tight dress. “Erin, please. Just-” The doorbell rang, and Y/n let out a breath of relief. She scooted past Erin and went to the door. “See! I told you! Now, I know you were hoping for John-Paul, but I think-... James?”

Y/n was stunned to silence. James was standing right in front of her, dressed up as the Fourth Doctor from Doctor Who, smiling right at her. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“David?” Erin waddled over to the door, and that’s when Y/n finally noticed her friend David Donnelly standing next to James, dressed in a suit with no tie. 

“Erin.” He replied with a nod.

The two girls looked at each other, confused. “What’s he doing here?” They asked in unison, pointing to the boy that was in front of them, who both laughed at their reactions.

“I called David for you because I knew John-Paul stood you up.”

“I called James for you because I knew you wanted to go to the prom with him.”

Y/n looked up at her boyfriend. “Wait, what about your creep convention?”

She laughed when he rolled his eyes. “It’s not a creep convention, and you know that. And it’s not important. I just…” James sighed, toying with his long, colorful scarf. “I knew the prom meant a lot to you, and Erin calling me just gave me the push I needed. Besides, I didn’t want to miss a chance to dance with my girl.”

“Ach, Jamie.” Y/n sighed endearingly, cupping his face. She gave him a soft, long kiss that he eagerly returned.

Erin and David had their own little conversation, trying not to look at the couple that were sucking face. “I’m surprised you’re here. I haven’t seen you since… Well, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” David laughed a little, thinking back to that night. Then he shrugged. “But Y/n called tellin’ me your date stood you up and… I dunno, you’re kinda cool to talk to and whatever.”

“I am?” Erin asked excitedly. 

“I said ‘kinda’.”

“Wait.” Y/n finally pulled away from James, looking down at her attire. “What am I gonna wear?”

“I’ll take you wearing this,” James said, seemingly serious as he looked at his girlfriend’s ripped jeans and oversized sweater that she had stolen from Granda Joe’s closet. The three other teens gave him unimpressed looks. “What? So what if it’s not a formal dress, she still looks nice.”

“I have something better.” Everyone jumped in surprise as Mary poked her head in. “Come over here. I’ve got somethin’ to show you.”

Y/n pulled Erin to their mother, giving the boys a final glance over her shoulder. “Go ahead and talk, we won’t be long.”

Mary led her daughters to the kitchen, where two big boxes they’d never seen before sat on the table. Mary gestured for the girls to open them, which they did.

“Oh my God, Mammy.” Y/n pulled out a pink dress with layers, ruffles, and small arm straps. Erin held a similar styled dress but in blue. “Where on earth did you get these?”

“They were my mother’s,” Mary answered, looking at the dresses fondly. “Your Granda said to bring them out, in case you changed your mind about the dance. Heard it was fifties themed and all that.”

Both of Mary’s daughters now had tears in their eyes, but they were not from sadness. The girls rounded the table to hug their mum tightly.

“You know, the dress is nice and all but-” Erin cut herself off with a sniffle. “I think I wanna match with Orla.”

“Well, one of you better be wearing my Mammy’s dress,” Mary said, deadly serious with only a tiny hint of amusement in her voice. “I didn’t dig these boxes up for nothing.”

“I’ll wear it.” Y/n laughed, grabbing the box with the pink dress. “Come on, Erin, let’s go change.”

***

“You look lovely.” This was the fifth time James had said this to Y/n in the past thirty minutes. But he meant it every time he said it.

And Y/n knew he did because he couldn’t stop staring at her. “Thank you, Jamie. You look just as handsome.” The couple walked to the school doors arm in arm, Erin and David a few steps behind them. “Although…” James opened the door and looked at his girlfriend curiously. “Are you sure you didn’t want to leave the scarf at home?”

“I think it completes the look,” James said with a bit of humor, toying with the piece of clothing. “But if you want, I can leave it in the car.”

“Nah.” Y/n shook her head, giving James a peck on the lips. “How else am I gonna pull you to the dancefloor?”

The two couples went into the decorated gym, quickly spotting two of their friends. Clare was talking frantically to Michelle, who honestly looked like she couldn’t care less.

“Look, there’s a guy here; he knows Mae-” The four heard Clare say before Michelle cut her off, looking over the blonde’s shoulder to see them.

“What’s going on?” Clare turned around, a bit spooked by the sudden appearance of her friends. Michelle grimaced at Y/n and James standing together arm in arm, but opted to comment on Erin’s new date instead. “Oh, don’t tell me. Wank-features stood you up.”

“Yeah.” Erin shrugged it off like she hadn’t cried over John-Paul standing her up about an hour before. She nudged her sister. “But Y/n called David Donnelly here, so I wouldn’t go alone.”

“What can I say? I’m a sweetheart.” Y/n smiled.

Clare put a hand on Erin’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Erin. About John-Paul, I mean.”

“No, I’m sorry. You were right; I was jealous. Mae’s just so cool and exotic, and you liked her so much-”

“She’s deranged!” Clare blurted out with wide eyes, taking everyone aback.

“What?”

“Who’s Mae?” David leaned back to ask Y/n and James, who said they’d explain later. He tsked, tapping Erin’s shoulder. “I’m gonna get a drink.”

“Get me some punch.” She said before turning back to Clare. “What d’you mean, Clare? You were crazy about her yesterday.”

“She’s the one who’s crazy, Erin!” Clare squealed. “I met this guy that went to her school. He said she had to leave for, like, being a bully. He said she’s seriously unhinged! I think he’s a bit pissed off with her, to be honest, and I can’t blame him, ’cause she’s given the Chinese population of Donegal a really bad rap.” Clare’s friends would always be surprised over how much she could say without taking breaks for breath.

Michelle rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Typical Donegal man. Always moanin’.”

“There she is.” Everyone looked to where James was pointing. Sure enough, Mae was on the other side of the large room, going backstage.

“What’s she doing?” Michelle wondered, and everyone started walking closer to the stage to try and get a better look.

“She was talking about how she wasn’t going to let Jenny get away with the whole Prom Queen thing,” Clare answered.

James gasped. “Jesus Christ, look. Above the stage, look!” He pointed again, and everyone followed his finger to the tin buckets rigged with rope above the stage.

“Is she doing what I think she’s doin’?” Y/n asked.

“I think she’s gonna do a Carrie.” The couple looked both concerned and impressed, now both very glad they decided to come to prom.

“Fuck-a-doodle-do!”

“What’s a Carrie?” Clare asked frantically. “What does that mean?”

“You’ve never seen Carrie?”

“No.” Everyone said something about what a good film it was, but Clare wasn’t looking for film critiques. “Expand and explain! EXPAND. AND. EXPLAIN!”

“So, Carrie is voted Prom Queen, and this bully pours a bucket of pig’s blood on her.” James quickly explained.

“Jesus Christ!”

“Well, a lot of other stuff happens. But, you know, that’s the relevant bit.” Y/n said, but before she could go more into the movie, the band on stage finished playing.

Aisling stepped up to the microphone, some feedback echoing through the gym.

“Can I have your attention, please?” She said with a smile. The girls looked terrified. “And now, the moment we’ve all been waiting for. It’s time to crown our Prom Queen.” Mae waited for Aisling to announce the name everyone knew would be said. She held the rope tightly, waiting for the moment she could finally release it. “And now… our Prom Queen is… Jenny Joyce!”

The girl looked completely surprised, and the girls wondered, against their better judgment, if they could just let this all play out. 

“We have to do something!” Clare yelled over the celebratory music as Jenny went up on stage.

While Jenny started to give a small acceptance speech, everyone started running. Except for Orla and Granda Joe, who were more than content with eating popcorn and watching the scene. David joined them, holding two cups of punch and wondering why his date was rushing the stage.

Michelle and James joined Erin to try and get Jenny off the stage, while Y/n went with Clare to stop Mae. It was a struggle, but it didn’t help as much as the girls thought it would. The only good thing was that Mae wasn’t crazy enough to use pig’s blood and instead soaked everyone on stage with tomato juice.

Erin tried to tell Jenny that her friends weren’t to blame, but Jenny, of course, didn’t believe her. The two girls started fighting, soon being joined by Michelle and Aisling. James just stood back and watched, not really wanting to intervene, and Y/n would’ve laughed if she wasn’t caught up in trying to break Clare and Mae apart. The rest of the audience seemed to enjoy the spectacle, laughing and having refreshments as it all played out.

***

It was a good thing David had towels in the boot of his car. Erin and James were covered and sticky with tomato juice, no matter how hard they tried to get it off them. Y/n was eternally grateful that she decided to go with Clare to stop Mae, sparing her grandmother’s dress. She didn’t think Joe would be too happy about it being covered in red, no matter how amused he was by tonight’s events.

“Jesus, the street’s packed.” David grimaced as he turned onto the sisters’ street. It was crowded with all their neighbors, whooping and partying for an unknown reason that they would surely hear about tonight or early tomorrow.

Y/n sighed, poking her head out the window. “I dunno if I wanna go home.” She settled back in her seat and looked at her boyfriend. “Wanna go to your place?”

“Sure.” He answered.

“Want me to drive you there?” David asked, but James shook his head.

“No, mate, it’s fine. I’m only a street over.”

“Yeah, take Erin home for me.” The Donnelly boy seemed to miss the sly wink Y/n gave her sister in the rearview mirror.

After some goodbyes and teasing comments, Y/n and James got out of the car and started walking down the street, weaving through all the people out and about. Surprisingly, Michelle and her parents weren’t home when the two arrived. Michelle must have still been panicking over how she was going to return her tomato-soddened dress, and James’ aunt and uncle were either at work or celebrating whatever was going on with their friends.

With the house empty, Y/n and James unwinded and relaxed. James took a much-needed shower, putting his clothes in a plastic bag so they wouldn’t stain anything else. Meanwhile, Y/n shimmied out of her dress and put on some of James’ pajamas.

“So, what do you wanna do?” James asked as he entered his room, a towel wrapped around his waist. Y/n was a little surprised by his boldness, remembering how shy he was some months ago when he didn’t have any clothes at her house and had to stand in his boxers while Y/n grabbed him a sweater.

“Maybe a movie?” Y/n suggested, watching James rifle through his dresser. She was filled with a sudden feeling of not wanting him to put on the clothes he was grabbing. “Carrie would be pretty fitting.”

They laughed, James shaking his head as he slipped his boxers on. “Oh, I don’t know.” He tore the towel off and sat down next to his girlfriend, pulling a shirt over his head. “I think there’s been enough blood, or blood adjacent, covered people tonight.”

Y/n laid back, humming in thought. “Well, there is… another thing... we could do.”

James looked down at Y/n, waiting for her to elaborate. She reached up his back, lightly tugging on his shirt until he laid down beside her. Y/n hooked a leg over James’ waist and brushed some wet curls away from his forehead. As her other hand slowly traveled down his chest, he started to get what she was hinting at.

“Only if you want to, obviously.”

James pushed Y/n off of him only to hover over her, kissing her deeply. He helped her shimmy up his bed until her head was resting on a pillow. Feeling brave, but mainly horny, James pulled away and took off his shirt before slipping his hand under Y/n’s.

“Are you sure?” James asked, slightly panting from how escalated the moment was getting.

“Yeah,” Y/n responded, taking a deep breath before pushing James away so she could take her own shirt off. James stared at her in amazement. Before she could tease him for his reaction, he gripped her bare waist and pulled her against him, kissing her with hunger.

The prom sure was exciting. But sometimes, what happened after was much more eventful.

~~~

The Fella Taglist: @mistahjsfunnygirl @etherealdisneyvillainness @crystalsoobin-m @raggedyoldwitch @rosetintworld @regretthatsme @neenieweenie @allexiiisss @drmeghanjones @eli-com @anything-for-our-moony-toast @ilovespideyyy @eddisaurus @imagines--galore @emma-is-a-nerd @sir1usblacksgf @kaz-2y567 @spidercrush3 @miilkshakess @underthebatcape @dear-jamespotter @brithedemonspawn @acupnoodle @nevillescomslut @hantivity @slaymybreathaway @mystic-writings @thegirlwithoutaname87 @mystic-mara @st4rryhae @ljaneyx @justlibra @siriuslyinlovewithsiriusblack @elauranicolee @in-my-hoe-era @grippleback-galaxy @greensunflowerjuna @sarcasm-and-stiles @callsignwidow @qtkat @asterizee @cursedandromedablack @athenalive

[babyhatesreality]

Hey!!! I loved your lates fic here

But I’m not sure how to think about Steve.

Would he still give her time out bc he thinks she is lying about something daddy said when she is telling the truth?

Imagine she gets in a little argument with another little one and the other one is telling her Papa that she said something mean/ a no no word. Would he believe his little one? Bc I don’t think so ☹️

AAAHHHHH I HAVE HAD THIS IDEA IN MY HEAD SINCE DAY ONE SO THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME THE CHANCE TO WRITE IT!!! <3

Listen to your Little

Pairing: Daddy! Stucky x little f!reader

Warnings: DDLG (SSC), f! reader, reader is named but name scarcely used, pet names, language, anxiety, mentions of past emotional upheaval, someone tells lies, mistrust, baby gets unfairly punished, mean Papa, mean Daddy, angst, fluffity fluff fluff fluff, everything gets worked out in the end because I always need a happy ending.

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. THIS STORY IS SFW- THE REST OF MY BLOG IS NOT NECESSARILY SO. MINORS DNI. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR MY WORK TO BE STOLEN, COPIED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY OTHER SITE BUT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated. 

A/N- this takes place about 2 weeks after you've moved in with Stucky, when you're still- unbeknowst to you- in your probationary period with SHIELD.

You were excited- and nervous- but mostly excited! It was your first play date with Wanda and Pietro since moving in with your daddies. You'd all met before of course, at the big welcome-to-the-family party, and gotten along famously. But this was the first time you were going over to Aunt Natasha's and Uncle Bruce's apartment to play. You and Wanda had bonded over your mutual love of Care Bears and My Little Ponies, and you were super excited to see her collection and play ponies again. You were nervous about Pietro, though. He wasn't exactly mean to you, but he didn't like that Wanda paid more attention to you than to him when you both were together. He also didn't like that you and Peter got so close, so quickly.

"C'mon, none of that now," Bucky said gently, pulling your fingers out of your mouth as he bounced you in his arms. The three of you were making your way to the elevator to go to the Banner/Romanoff floor. Bucky had noticed that you were a little hesitant when you'd left the apartment, so he had immediately scooped you up to snuggle you on the way. You had started chewing on your fingers, a sign that he'd only recently learned meant that you were feeling distress. "I don't want you to bite your fingers off. That's MY job," he teased, before pretending to eat your fingers playfully. You squealed and giggled for a moment, but eventually laid your head on his shoulder with a tiny sigh.

"What's the matter, Lovebug?" Steve asked, leaning into your view point and rubbing your back soothingly. "Are you feeling okay?" He looked around as they stepped into the elevator. He knew that SHIELD was watching their every move, and if something was wrong with you, by god he was going to figure it out in a heartbeat. He kept patting you, but you didn't speak until the doors to the elevator had closed.

"What if....what if dey don't like me?" you said, just loud enough for them to hear it.

"Wanda and Pietro?" Steve asked in surprise. "They already like you, angel. Remember how you and Wanda were playing that you were the little ponies just two nights ago?"

"MY little ponies," you corrected, your head popping up to make sure your Papa understood the very important difference in wording. He smiled.

"Sorry, MY little ponies," he said, booping you on the nose. "You two had so much fun that you fell asleep before you could finish telling us all about it, remember?" He and Bucky shared a private smirk; that had been the night they had discovered that letting you tell your own stories at bedtime was a bad idea. You had literally not stopped talking during your bath, pajamas, and being tucked into their bed. They found it so cute that they couldn't bear to stop you, but you'd continued for a good hour past bedtime until your exhausted body overcame your brain and you'd fallen asleep mid-sentence.

That hadn't gone over terribly well with the review board. They understood that Steve and Bucky hadn't wanted to stifle you, but they were concerned that not adhering to a strict schedule, no matter what, might set a bad precedent. From then on, Steve and Bucky had been fastidious about your bedtime routine. They weren't risking anything that could potentially 'set a bad precedent' and get you taken away from them.

You didn't know any of that of course- all you knew was that you were feeing a little anxious about the visit. When you didn't answer Steve right away, he continued trying to help you through this. "Tell you what, Katie Cat," he said, grinning when you smiled softly at the special nickname. "If you feel icky, or if something is bothering you, you can tell me or Daddy, and we'll all come back home. Okay?"

"Don't wanna spoil your fun..." you mumbled into Bucky's shoulder. Bucky and Steve locked eyes for a moment. They had prepared for things like this. In all of the time the three of you had spent together before this, you'd been very honest about your issues with abandonment and self-worth, and how it all tied into your need to regress. You were scared to death to do anything that might make your new and already-beloved daddies mad or upset, no matter how little it seemed.

"Baby, this time is for you, okay?" Steve said reassuringly. "We just want you to have fun with your new little friends. Daddy and I see Aunt Natasha and Uncle Bruce all the time, so if you need to leave, you're not spoiling anything. Everyone will understand, and no one will be mad. Okay?"

"Otay," you whispered back, a shy smile on your face. Bucky pressed a kiss into your hair.

"That's our girl," he said, nuzzling the top of your head with his cheek. "Do you want a paci so you don't chew on your fingers again?"

You shook your head. "No, tank you," you said politely, making them both melt. "Gonna be a big girl." You leaned back and looked at Bucky, tilting your head. If you were gonna be a big girl, you really should be walking by yourself...."Big girl later," you decided, then nuzzled back into the safety of Daddy's shoulder, making him chuckle.

**********************************************************************

An hour later, you wondered what on earth you'd been nervous about. Wanda, Pietro, and you were currently playing the most fabulous game of Chutes and Ladders ever. The three of you had started the playdate with exploring their playroom. You were in absolute awe of the colorful and joyous chaos, and they had delighted in showing you everything. Then came the games. You hadn't played such a raucous, noisy version of Chutes and Ladders in so long and it was a blast. You were also apparently really good at it, as you placed your token on the winning block for the second time in a row.

"Wow! You are SO good at this game, Katie!" Wanda cheered, leaning over to give you a high five. "Here, high five Buttons now," she instructed, holding up her favorite teddy. You giggled and gently high fived his paw, making her laugh.

"That's not fair, that you won two games in a row," Pietro interjected suddenly into your joy. You quickly dropped your hand, feeling awkward. Pietro had been fine, if not a little quiet, when you won the first time, but it seemed like two times was his limit. You started feeling that little prickle of anxiety that you had when you were coming here.

"You're just jealous that she won and you LOST," Wanda said, sticking her tongue out. Pietro jumped up, enraged at his sister.

"I'm gonna tell Mommy that you stuck your tongue out!" he announced triumphantly.

"Then I'M gonna tell her that you're being mean to us and you'll get a time out," Wanda shot back, glaring at her brother. Pietro scowled at her, but sat back down.

"We're gonna play again and this time I'M gonna win," he grumbled.

"We don't hafta play dis game," you said hesitantly. "We can play something else. Whachu wanna play?" You bit your lip- you didn't want to lose your new friends on your very first playdate.

"This and I'm gonna win," he declared. You exchanged a quick look with Wanda, who shrugged and put her piece back at the starting block. Not wanting to rock the boat anymore than you accidentally already had, you quietly put your piece back at the beginning too.

You subtly tried to flick the spinner so you'd land on the lower numbers, but Wanda caught on immediately. "No, you gotta do it right. I want you to win again!" she said, making you retake your turn. You sighed and flicked, and of course, landed on a square that gave you a huge ladder up.

"You cheated!" Pietro said, pointing at Wanda after he realized how far ahead this made you in the game. "You made her go again and that's cheating!"

"Nuh-uh!" Wanda said hotly. "You're trying to cheat 'cause you wanna win."

"You're a big ol' dumbbell!" Pietro yelled at her. Your anxiety suddenly turned to anger at his exclamation. You knew that name calling was absolutely not allowed from any of you. On top of that, Pietro was just being mean. No one messed with your friends!

"Please stop being mean," you said, pushing yourself up to stand on your knees. You weren't quite brave enough to stand all the way up, but you definitely couldn't stay seated when your friend was being called names. Pietro's eyes narrowed at you menacingly.

"What did you say?" he said, almost daring you to say it again.

"I said please stop being mean!" you said, louder than you intended. Before you could even take a breath, Pietro zoomed out of the room. You looked at Wanda, startled. "Wha' happened?" you asked nervously. You knew that the twins weren't supposed to use their powers when they weren't on missions, so something bad obviously just happened for him to break the rules like that.

Just then, you heard loud steps pounding down the hallway. "Kaitlyn!" Papa scolded loudly as he came around the corner and into the room. You hadn't heard that tone from him before. You sat back down in shock, staring at him with wide eyes. What did you do for him to use your full name like that? "Pietro said that you were calling him names," he accused you, his hands on his hips and fire in his eyes.

"Wh-wha'? No, I didn't," you stammered, your mind spinning as you tried to figure out what was happening.

"No, Uncle Steve, she-" Wanda piped up. But Steve held up a hand to her.

"Not now, sweetie," he said, his tone just a touch softer, before he turned his glare back to you. You felt yourself shrinking down, feeling even littler than normal. "What do you have to say for yourself, young lady?" Steve scolded, his blue eyes narrowing at you.

"Papa, I didn' say nuffin' bad-"

"You know better than to call names, little girl," he said, almost as if you hadn't spoken. "There is no excuse for that kind of behavior. You don't treat your friends like that, and you don't call names, EVER."

"But-"

"But nothing. Come here, right now," he said, pointing to his feet. Scared to death, you shut your mouth and scrambled to get up and stand at his feet. "You're getting a time out," Steve said angrily, putting his hand on your back and ushering you out of the playroom.

You desperately wanted a chance to defend yourself, to ask why Papa believed that you would be so naughty. You looked up at him and inhaled as if to speak, but he immediately pointed a finger in your face. "Hush," he scolded. "Not one word." You obediently shut your mouth and tried to keep the tears from falling.

Steve led you to an empty corner in the dining room where he, Bucky, and Natasha had been sitting and chatting. Natasha and Bucky were nowhere to be seen, though. Steve made sure your nose was firmly in the corner before sitting down in the chair closest to you. "Now you think about what you've done, and when your time out it over, you're going to apologize to Pietro." It took everything within you not to make a sound or turn around at this injustice, but the fear of making Papa even angrier kept you in your place. You knew that you were not to move or make a sound in time out unless you wanted a longer one, so you kept yourself still.

Just then, you heard footsteps approaching. "Oh no," Bucky said when he saw you. "What did she do?" he asked Steve. You could hear the touch of steel in his tone, making you even more frightened.

"She called Pietro a name while they were playing their game," Steve responded, his own voice still tight with anger. "I let her know that is completely unacceptable, and she'll be apologizing when it's all over."

"Name calling?" Bucky said incredulously. He knew you had a mischievous streak a mile wide, but you had never been anything other than sweet and playful. He would never have thought you capable of that in a million years. His mind was blown at his sweet little angel being that mean.

"Apparently, they were playing a game, and when Pietro said something about wanting to win this round, she called him a 'dumb meanie-head'."

"What?!" Bucky yelled as you trembled in the corner. "Oh, she's writing lines tonight too. We are NOT letting her get away with this kind of behavior." Your insides quaked- now they were both against you and you hadn't even done anything.

"Hang on," Aunt Natasha said suddenly. "What exactly did Pietro say?" she questioned her oldest friend.

"He sped in here very upset-"

"He used his powers?"

"Yes. I don't think he meant to be bad, he was just worked up," Steve explained. You tensed up in the corner at Papa making excuses for Pietro, but still not defending you. Unbeknownst to you, Natasha noticed.

"Hmmm," she said, pressing her lips together as she thought. "Just out of curiosity, did Wanda say anything?" You couldn't see it from your viewpoint of the two walls, but the rest of the room saw Steve blush, slightly.

"Well, she tried to say something, but I...didn't let her," he said, a tad bit sheepishly. "I didn't want her to try to lie to get Katie out of trouble. We...can't take any chances right now. We need to make sure that we're...providing a healthy environment with boundaries and rules. We're not taking any chances. Not with our little girl."

Natasha knew exactly what Steve meant and that his heart was in the right place, but she also realized that you didn't fully understand all the larger implications at play here. And she knew her twins well enough to know that there was probably a lot more to the story.

"I hear you," Natasha said. "And I understand. But...just indulge me for a moment." She waited to get the nod from both Steve and Bucky before calling down the hallway. "Wanda? Pietro? Come into the dining room, please."

You tried your hardest not to fidget, but this was the worst. Your new friend and your now-mortal enemy were going to see you in trouble, and that was so embarrassing you started to silently cry again, biting down on your lip to not make a sound. You heard two pairs of feet shuffle in, but then the silence was shattered by your defender.

"No, that's not fair!" Wanda shrieked, pointing at you still stuck in the corner. "Katie didn't even do anything!!" At that, the room exploded into accusations and soothing words and frustration and anxiety, until finally Natasha made herself heard over everyone.

"Alright, ALRIGHT!" she shouted everyone down. "Wanda, tell me what happened." Pietro made a sound of indignation, but was quickly silenced. "You'll get your chance, Pietro. But Wanda is going first."

Much to your relief, Wanda quickly told the story of what actually happened, emphasizing that you had NOT called Pietro a name- you'd simply said that he was being mean. "Which he WAS," she finished sulkily, glaring at him.

A horrible, sinking feeling was settling into the pit of Steve's stomach. "Pietro, you told me that she called you a dumb meanie-head," he said, trying to keep his voice from shaking at the amount of damage he might have just done.

"It's what she MEANT," Pietro replied hotly after stammering for a moment, caught in his lie.

"NO IT'S NOT!" Wanda shrieked, outraged on your behalf. Pietro immediately started yelling back. Natasha quickly broke the argument up as Steve and Bucky both spun towards you.

"Oh my god, angel, I am so sorry," Steve said, his eyes brimming with tears. When you didn't make a move, his heart stopped for a second before he realized- he hadn't given you permission to leave the corner yet. You were being his good little girl, as always. "Lovebug, please come out of the corner. You should never have been in there and Papa is so very sorry."

You turned to him but couldn't look him in the eye. You didn't want him to see the tears that were still streaming down your face. But there was no way that he could have missed them. In an instant, he was crushing you to his chest, dropping kiss after kiss on top of your head in between apology after apology. "I am so sorry I didn't give you a chance to tell your side of the story, baby. Papa was very, very naughty today."

Bucky reached out and rubbed the parts of your back that he could touch, as you were still firmly held in Steve's arms. "And I'm sorry too, that I just jumped to conclusions," Bucky apologized as well. As someone who'd lost his own voice for years, he felt doubly guilty at taking away yours. "I will never do that again baby, I promise. Okay?" He moved in a little closer, exchanging a worried look with Steve when you didn't answer. "Angel?" he said softly. "Can you talk to me and Papa please?"

You finally turned your tear-stained face up to Steve. "I wann'ed to be a good girl today," you finally sobbed out. "Was I bad?" You were still too little to fully understand everything that had happened, but you were feeling some awful big feels.

"No Angel, you weren't bad at all," Steve said, feeling lower than shit. "You were very good to try to stand up for your friend, and I'm very very sorry that I didn't listen when you tried to tell me what happened. You are my good baby and you always will be." Steve expected you to yank yourself out of his arms and his life forever for his colossal fuck up, but the exact opposite happened instead.

You threw your arms around his neck and squeezed as hard as you could. You were so relieved that you hadn't been bad, and that things seemed to be getting back to normal, that all you could do was hold on to your Papa for dear life.

Natasha had let Pietro have his say while you and your daddies had been making up, but once he realized he was caught, he begrudgingly admitted that he had lied. He said that he'd been mad that he hadn't won and waited until Natasha wasn't near Uncle Steve to tattle. Natasha sent Pietro to his room promptly with the promise of a "long talk tonight with me and Daddy". She let Wanda worm her way into Steve's arms to hug you too. Wanda declared you the forever winner of Chutes and Ladders.

Steve and Bucky were both looking at Natasha, panic screaming in their eyes. What on earth was the board going to do with this? Would this be enough for them to take you away from them? However, Natasha smiled. "I got this," she said lovingly to her friends. She knew exactly how to manage this one with that damn board....

Later that night, Steve and Bucky each presented you with a piece of paper, in which they both had written "I will listen to my little girl" one hundred times each. Steve did two hundred, out of sheer guilt for putting you in time out on top of everything else. Your giggle at their self-induced punishments and the subsequent snuggle session started to make everything look a lot brighter.

The next morning, you were back to your normal happy-go-lucky self, thrilled with being babysat by Kate for the day. You had given your daddies big hugs and kisses before they left, promising to be good. Steve and Bucky, still feeling the residual pangs of guilt, made their way to their only meeting of the day, but one that they were very much ready for.

Natasha smiled as they closed the conference room door behind them. "Welcome gentlemen," she said, slightly teasing as they both took their seats sheepishly. "Welcome to 'Listening to your Little, 101'."

[booksandpaperss]

idk who exactly on this tag needs to hear this but it’s definitely a lot of you:

it is perfectly okay for a fanfic writer to have Mike and Will having physical and sexual thoughts about each other. They are teenagers and it completely normal for allosexual and even acespec teenagers to have sexual thoughts about the person or people they like. Yes adult fanfic writers can do this too it’s literally not weird as long as it’s written respectfully and accurately, and I’m actually so fucking tired of all this discourse that is so clearly rooted in people feeling uncomfortable with two boys being sexually attracted to each other, or even queer teenagers in general having sexual thoughts about each other.

I do think it’s weird to write explicit sex scenes between minors and especially in this case when these characters are represented by real people with real bodies who were minors while filming the vast majority of the show, but honestly anything suggestive between two 14/15 year olds and up that’s not explicit and/or sexualized is normal. And before any of you come at me saying I’m sexualizing minors, you can fuck right off bc I am 17 and I am sick and tired of teenagers and especially queer teenagers being shamed for sexual thoughts that are perfectly normal.

I understand if you personally are not comfortable reading and writing anything suggestive, that is fine bc I have a solution for you! Wanna guess what it is??

Just. Don’t. Read it.

If it’s content u don’t like, simply don’t interact!!! No one is forcing you to read or write anything that you don’t want to, so simply don’t. It’s that easy 😱

I will say though, that if reading an even vaguely suggestive thought in a byler fic makes you extremely uncomfortable, maybe you should take a moment to ask yourself why that is. Bc love between teenagers is not all fluffy and pure and innocent, and its honestly way weirder to have that ideal than to write teens having sexual thoughts, so maybe do some self reflection. If you’re ace and suggestive content in general makes u feel weird then that’s different, but if that’s not the case then if you’re allo and u still feel this way… idk just take a moment to check and see if you’re internalizing anything before complaining about it and spreading legitimately harmful discourse.

So, to recap:

-it’s normal for teenagers to have suggestive thoughts about each other and it’s normal to write it

-writing teenagers having sexual thoughts and making out with each other is not sexualizing, fellow queer ppl who think this literally why do u hate ur community so much 😑

-anything short of an explicit smut scene between minors is fine as long as it’s done accurately and respectfully

-it is still weird to write explicit smut in the byler fandom specifically (and any other ship between teens in ST) just bc you’d be describing the bodies of real people that were minors until very recently with actors who have stated that they’re not comfortable being sexualized like that, but first and foremost…

-…if something makes you uncomfortable or you don’t like it, simply don’t interact

-stop shaming queer teenagers for being physically attracted to each other, and stop idealizing teenage queer love as something completely pure and innocent, if you’re going to do that, please keep it to yourself

If after reading this post you 1). want to block me bc you think this whole post was sexualization or 2). plan to use this argument as an excuse to actually sexualize minors and write hardcore explicit smut between them, block me. Weird reformed purity culture is not welcome on my blog and neither are people who enjoy sexualizing minors. Fuck you ❤️

[anxious-witch]

Since I can't seem to stay quiet and I all but made up my mind to stay away from the tag for the next week or so, let's talk about recent discussions about jance and bokris and this...weird ship war that has been going on, shall we?

Under the cut bc while I am annoying, I will spare you the essay if you don't want to read it, god knows I write too many of these.

I don't know when we as a fandom got to a point where we are even fighting over which ship is more likely, more realistic and if the other ship is "more queer coded" or whatever the fuck. I was under the impression that the fandom is meant to be fun thing we do, but that we are all aware shipping is something that's made up. And that even if guys play into it or even if someone is indeed really dating we are aware that what we think about it is irrelevant. Factually, even if someone "was right" about the ship, our perception of it will be widely different than the truth of real people's relationship. Because these are real people, not fictional characters. They cannot queerbait, and jokes aside, even calling someone queer coded is weird, you guys. At the end of the day, we cannot assume someone's sexuality based on how they look.

As for the whole bokris-jance discourse. I don't even know why this is a thing? Bokris people, you got fantastic solo photos of both Bojan and Kris, full of symbolism and got the fire-water link between them that's just perfect for fics.

Jance people, you got joined photoshoot, with Jan and Nace clearly being very intimately connected, which you can interpret in whatever way you wish in fics and fanart. The fact that there are less pictures speaks volumes about how private whatever they have is.

Both have it's merits. Both have it's weight. I don't understand this aggression and fighting over art. Art all of them participated in creating by speaking with Damon about it before doing the photoshoot.

I have friends who ship jance more and I have friends who ship bokris more. The truth about both is that we simply don't know what's going on behind closed doors. Even more importantly, is whatever it is that we don't know worth losing the community we built here? I feel like every time I get into the tag, there is something new people are fighting over. This is just the last thing that seems relevant and that most people got involved into.

But genuinely, I am just tired. I hope things calm down when the new song drops, although god knows there will likely be a discourse over that as well, but hopefully...less than this.

And yeah, I do know this will probably get me blocked from one or the other side or both but let's just...get it over with. Since I feel like this will happen again, I might as well make my stance clear now. Which is-I am not picking a side. I don't think real people can queerbait and that they'd do a joined photoshoot if they didn't have a very deep connection to one another. I don't think they also need their virtue defended because they definitely knew people will speculate after this. But I also don't think this 100% means they are together. Yes, it sucks that queer people need to outright say these things, but I also wouldn't claim a straight couple is dating unless they publicly announced it.

So yeah can we all just please try to chill and do fun stuff again, please?

[onnoffwrites]

I have been losing my shit over this damn panel for the past THREE DAYS (more or less) and I need to yell somewhere so it's gonna go here.

It all began when I was writing my fic (I think this was for My Immortal), and I needed to recap significant hakukai moments. And I remembered "hey, I should include this one thing saguru said during sunset manor that was stupidly super gay for no fucking reason" bc like, yea hakukai not canon, but if canon was gonna give me a whole ass confession then I might as well use it. So, like always, I head to mangadex to look for this panel... Except... It's not there... The line... The line's not there... But I remember... I remember something about "the only one to disrupt/disturb my thinking/mind"... Where... I didn't imagine that right? I mean I read a lot of google translated Chinese fanfics but... I REMEMBERED reading that line... In a manga... In English... ON mangadex...

This is where I should mentioned, that if you weren't around for the Great Collapse of Mangadex. Then... Well, so there was this period of time where mangadex just DIDNT EXIST. Bc there was some cyber?? Attack??? On the site??? I can't fully remember. But it like wiped out most of the site. The mangas r just, gone. So mangadex fixed it. It took a while bc they figured "might as well revamp our site and system". And they did. And it's great. And it looks beautiful now, even more than before.

But see. The line I remembered? Yea... Yea that was from before The Collapse. And mangadex let multiple translation groups submit their translations. So u can read diff translations of diff group, see how things are interpreted differently... And... I remembered this one, that I posted here up top, but I remembered there was another. One that had The Line.

And it was driving crazy so, like usual, I asked my cn friend. But my cn friend (why am I still saying that, it's @beingvv , that's the friend) has A Life, and isn't always online, and we love that for ppl. So. I'm still crazy. I can't trust my own damn mind and memory bc why tf do I remember something that isn't there (happened before btw, but that has nothing to do with this).

Luckily, I have a friend who knows jp. UNLUCKILY, I don't have the jp raws and it's from chapter 300 and we are in the thousands. So, I went back to losing my mind. Until I found it again, and realized. Heyyyyyyy there's a whole ass ANIME. So like the baggage my dear friend had the misfortune to be saddled with, I went to find the ep, timestamped it, yelled begged them for help.

This is where I lose my damn mind the first time in the recent weeks.

(thank you my dear piglet, u don't even go here but u tolerate my insanity)

THIS. THIS WAS THE LINE. THATS WHAT I REMEMBERED.

So, I feel a little more sane (bc my mind didn't fabricate a memory again) and also A LOT more insane bc WHY WOULD U SAY THAT, HAKUBA SAGURU 😭😭😭 WHY WOULD U SAY IT LIKE THAT 😭😭😭

In any case I feel validated. Told beingvv about my discoveries (for whenever they come back) not that they need it cn fandom already got the correct translation. And finished writing my fic.

And then Saguru's comeback was announced.

So I've been losing my shit for 3 days on twitter, looking at all my fave KR and JP accounts and the things they say.

And then someone dug up and old tweet thread that talked about this panel. Specifically, op talked about the nuance in the word choice used.

Here's the og thread if anyone wants to read or Google translate it urself.

(mkppyong my love, bless you)

Bc mkppyong talked to a jp acquaintance about ??? Uh I dunno just language I guess. POINT IS. They pointed out that gosho used specific words/phrases that really wasn't needed if all he wanted to say was "the only one who drives me crazy/mad." But he did used them. It's specifically "his thoughts/mind" that's being driven crazy. And that if he wants to just talk about Saguru's mind being disrupted/confused, then there's rly no need to use the words "go crazy"

And then they wrote out a whole symbolism about clocks and saguru and being broken down/disrupted and I lost my shit over the clock symbolism, sue me 😭😭😭

I don't think I'm making sense anymore bUT WAIT, THERES MORE, THE FINAL BLOW

THE THAI TRANSLATION

This is where I expose myself more than I ever want to, but here's a fact. I'm thai

Here's a second fact. I'm SHIT at Thai. I've been bad at this language before I got good at English. My Thais as good as an elementary student. Every time I understand difficult words I get confused bc where did I know THAT from???

In any case, point is, I saw that tweet, read the text, immediately understood it and began losing my shit all over again... And then I doubted... Bc like, I'm not good with this lang anymore... Maybe im understanding it wrong? So I look up Google.

Google: คลุ้มคลั่ง just means go crazy

So I was like, damn guess I'm wrong, read too much into this. BUT SEE BC I LIVE HERE I HAVE FRIENDS WHO ARENT A DISGRACE. And so my friend said:

SO WELCOME TO MY THIRD ROUND OF INSANITY.

HAKUBA SAGURU WHY WOULD U SAY THIS SHIT IN FRONT OF LIKE NINE OTHER PPL 😭😭😭😭😭 BOY WHY R U TELLING THEM UR OBSESSED 😭😭😭 youre driving ME crazy 😭😭😭

So. Here we are. At the end. I have no idea how tf I'm supposed to end this post. I'VE been obsessed for 3 days straight. I don't have a lot of braincell left in me (there weren't any to begin with). I don't have a statement to wrap this post up in a nice little bow. Go make ur own conclusion I dunno.

But I would not have been losing my shit over this stupid panel for a month if it wasn't for the fact that eng translation was missing a pretty crutial thing in what Saguru said. I don't know if this was a mistranslation or a misunderstanding or something, but the English translation was lacking. And I love and have always been thankful and grateful to the ppl who worked hard to translate mangas in their free time, and do it all for free, bc I haven't had any real way to rent/borrow mangas from renting shops/libraries in years. So this was one of the only ways I can read mangas. But, even as I checked the raw panel with Google lens just now, even google translate it as "the only one to make my thoughts go round." No where was there any mention of "case" and "solving." So that's just, multiple accounts of ppl who knows jp, including native jp speakers, all saying that this panel is Saguru saying "the only one to drive me crazy". And man I rly hope this doesn't make me come off as ungrateful or like shitting on the translation team, I'm rly not. But yea. Uh. The translation was wrong. And I remembered that there used to be a diff eng translation. And it led me to go to all this trouble and journey to find out what was actually said. And here we are, at the end.

The only one who could disrupt Saguru's thinking.

The only one who could disturb Saguru's mind.

The one whose sole existence drives him mad.

The only one to make his mind obsess over till he's driven to madness.

Or to use the symbolism mkppyong wrote: the only one to break down the clock, the precise and accurate mechanism, that is Hakuba Saguru.

[quackquackcey]

HII!! I just wanna say you’ve been one of my favorite writers recently! Derek’s Kumquat, is one of my favorites that I go back to every now and then. I always check to see if you have anything new when I need my Sterek fix. I just wanna say thank you for all your hard work bc you deliver every single time idk how you do it. So this is my first ever request! I saw a fanart by thebookwormfanboy a year ago that I haven’t been able to get out of my head, which I will attach at the end. I’ve looked for fics similar to what the art entailed, but they just didn’t quite hit the way I needed them to. So I thought you’d be the perfect person to ask. Basically, Stiles and Derek see each other again for the first time in 2 years after the events of season 4. Except Derek has put on weight since Stiles last saw him. He’s not chubby, but just thicker and bulkier. A little rounder where he used to be sharp cut. Like a dad bod. And hairier since he stopped waxing his chest and trimming his beard down to stubble and instead lets it be fuller. He’s still built and has muscle, but like I said, he’s not super cut with washboard abs like in seasons 1-2. And Stiles can’t stop looking at him. If Stiles thought he couldn’t be even more attracted to Derek than before, he was sorely mistaken. Stiles is super turned on by the obvious difference in his and Derek’s build/body types. Derek: “Why are staring? I know I’m not as cut as when we first met but- Stiles?” Stiles: internally *give me a baby so I can make you an actual dilf* Queue in GIMME A BIG BOYYYY by SZA. Do you see the vision?!?! If anyone could perfectly execute this and make it sexy, I think it would be you. Also no pressure if you’re not feeling it. Thank youuu.

ahhhhh what a sweet ask 🥰 it really means a lot to me that you enjoy my fics so much!! 😭 I'm touched & v flattered, thank you for reading and leaving such a kind kind ask that brightened my days!

& omg a request!! pleasantly very surprised ahahaha I never get requests, & yESSSS I SEE THE VISION 😩 I'M SO HERE FOR IT! plush muscles plush muscles plush boobies plush muscles 🤤 I don't know when I'll have time BUT mark my words, I will def write a oneshot or something about this (& I'll tag you when I do!!) 🥰 If you have any other requests, feel free to let me know! 💛

[mageofseven]

Hi there! I love your blog; I found it in 2022 and fell in love with your writing, and was disappointed to see you weren’t active anymore. I stumbled across you again when a mutual reblogged one of your more recent fics, and I’m so happy to see you’re back (and indeed alive)!

If it’s possible, could I request headcanons or a scenario (whichever you prefer) for poly!mc (who is dating all 7 brothers. And the dateables if you feel like it) announcing they’re pregnant, but bc they’ve been sleeping with all of the boys, they have no clue who the father is? I totally understand if you don’t want to write this.

Haha, yes I am alive. I had to leave for multiple reasons; one being the most common reason: life, man 😅

Still, thank you so much for checking out my stories even when I was away! It's always good to hear that people get enjoyment out of the things I write.

Also, another Nonnie recently requested some poly!MC where they date the brothers so I think they'll be happy to read this too~

I think I will add the unDatables to this as well because I've developed an extra strong love for them lately 🥰💕

•▪︎▪︎◇°●♡●°◇▪︎▪︎•

How MC Found Out:

MC discovered she was pregnant through Simeon.

Angels have a special the ability to sense life (or in this case, pre-life) and this man had been sensing something different within the human for a few weeks now.

When he discovered that the blurry feeling attached to MC was a baby though, he didn't know how to bring it up.

He didn't know how his Feather would feel about her condition, but assumed that if she wanted a child, she would have brought up with at least one of the men that she loved so dearly.

The angel could just sense that this would be hard on her

And he was right.

MC cried into his embrace, scared of how the other men would react.

No matter how much she thought about it, the human couldn't pinpoint which man could be the father. I mean, it's not like she writes down in a notebook every time she sleeps with one of them.

And what if the one who is the father doesn't want their baby? Or what if the others are upset because its not theirs? Or...what if none of them wanted to be with her now that she'll be a mom?

He reminded her that the other men were good people who loved her just as dearly as he did.

MC had to tell the others and Simeon was going to support her every step of the way.

With Simeon's help, she gathered all of the men at HoL and tearful announced that she was pregnant, that someone in this room was going to a father.

Lucifer:

The only emotion he let show on his face was shock

But there was so much more swirling around in his chest.

The idea that this child could be his truly scared him.

I mean, he's already a father...and a terrible one at that, he felt.

He did not want this baby to be his; he did not want a second child to risk hurting.

Still, if this child was his then he wouldn't abandon them; abandon MC.

Regardless of whose child they are, Lucifer was going to be there for his Love no matter what.

Summary? This man is scared shitless and doesn't want the child, but is ready and willing to support MC.

Mammon:

"What??"

Unlike Lucifer, he is obviously upset.

I mean, MC is freakin' pregnant.

And that means either he's gonna be a dad and has to get his shit together

Or one of the others, even one of his own brothers, knocked up his Human and honestly, he's not okay with that.

Yeah, he knows this poly relationship thing means he has to share his girlfriend but he did not sign up for one of his brothers to knock up MC.

Honestly has no fucking clue what he wants.

I mean, yeah, he's always kinda wanted a kid, but not now.

One look at the tears flowing down his girlfriend's cheeks though was all he needed to toss all of that that complicated shit aside and promising her that she doesn't gotta worry because The Great Mammon is gonna be here for her no matter what.

Summary: Scared, confused, but has MC's back just like always.

Leviathan:

Levi.exe has stopped working

Which, in fairness, happens a lot because of this women

But it's not funny this time!

Like Mammon, he's both terrified of it being his kid and not being his kid.

Unlike Mammon though, the third brother isn't sure he could handle it if the baby turns out not to be his.

Honestly, he's not too sure what he'd do if the baby's not his.

Hell, he's not sure what he'll do if it is.

This man just wants to hide away in his room indefinitely.

Summary: PANICKING, doesn't think he wants the kid, just wants to hide away.

Satan:

This is one of the last things the wrath demon wants to hear, but he also acknowledges that this was bound to happen at some point.

I mean, he's not exactly found of children.

Even if this child isn't his, the man still has the issue of his Kitten becoming a mom and essentially making him a step dad.

As much as he hates the idea, he acknowledges that this is the best alternative.

Leaving MC over this is not even an idea that the fourth brother is humoring

But he'd also rather that the child not be of his flesh and blood.

Has decided to never let MC hear such thoughts from him though.

Summary: logical but adverse, does not want the child to be his, but will stay by his Kitten's side no matter what.

Asmodeus:

Immediately runs up to his Dolly to hug her

And kisses her tears away.

Promises her that everything will be okay and this is a happy thing!

Plus, he'll be by her side through it all, no matter what!

Tries to get the other men in the room to speak up too and tell her everything is fine

Because hello! Crying MC over here! Get your priorities in order!

Summary: Worried about MC, will be happy regardless of whether the child is his or not, and is fiercely supportive.

Beelzebub:

Boy's brain is buffering

Like he was so confused at first about why his Muffin was so upset.

Like, there's gonna be a baby here in HoL! How can that not be a happy thing?

Then he remembered how his twin dislikes kids and realized that he doesn't know how the other men feel about them.

Suddenly becomes very upset for MC and walks up to give her a big hug

But is very mindful about how tight he hugs her because he understands that his Muffin is basically a walking plus one right now so he needs to be gentle.

Tells her that he's here for her and her baby no matter what.

Yes, Beely would love it if the baby was his own, but will still love this child if it's not because it's his Muffin's.

Summary: Confusion melts into concern, wants the baby to be his but will love it even if its not, agrees with Asmo that MC is the priority and wants everyone to be on the same page.

Belphegor:

"You gotta be kidding me."

Believes this is one of the worst things to happen to him

And is now becoming paranoid that maybe he's the one who fucked up.

I mean, they always used protection, but those runes aren't foolproof.

All it could have took was his hand to be just slightly sloppy when drawing the rune below her navel beforehand for the whole thing to be faulty

And the sloth demon didn't always check his work, so to speak.

Does not, under any circumstances, want this kid to be his.

Hell, he doesn't want this kid to exist at all.

But that's not his decision and he knows this.

He felt like things were going so good and now its ruined.

Still...the man was still indebted to her. He killed his Human once before and it was the worst mistake of his life.

He can't take it back; that's why aims to just make her happy

So this man isn't going anywhere, no matter how miserable he gets.

Summary: angry at himself and paranoid, does not want the child at all, but is going no where while his Human needs him.

Diavolo:

The prince's initial feeling was excitement.

I mean, MC's pregnant! He could be a dad!

And honestly, this man would love nothing more than to have a child with his Queen.

He understands why MC is upset and is very vocal with comfort, telling her that she'll get through this, that they will all get through this.

Another man that would be okay with the child not being his.

Don't get him wrong; he wants that child to be his so badly

But will also be accepting if it turns out that they're not.

If the child is not his, he will still be good them to them and his Queen

But also plans on asking MC in the future if she could give him one of his own.

Please MC, make this man a Daddy 🥺

Summary: Excited and tries to help the situation, really wants the baby to be his, stands by his Queen no matter what.

Barbatos:

Pursed his lips at the news, but ultimately says nothing.

Is pained just by seeing his Dear's tears, but hesitates to step forward and comfort her because of the other men already doing so.

This situation was one of the reasons why he wasn't too pleased about this poly relationship.

The butler didn't necessarily mind sharing his girlfriend with the other men

Nor did he mind that her baby might have been conceived with one of the other men.

What he did mind, however, was just how spread thin she seemed some days.

MC put so much effort in keeping the peace and trying to keep things fair for the men, even when it became mentally exhausting

So for her to be made afraid of the very reactions of the men who could have been the one to have brought her into this situation?

Grows a bit of resentment towards some of the others.

Barb couldn't hold much sympathy for them while knowing all that MC has done for them.

Will stick by her and her child no matter what.

Hopes that this child is not his, but only because his power to see into the future is genetic and when you lack the skill to control it, it can be mentally torturous.

Barb would never wish such a thing on a child hence why he'd prefer it to not be of his blood.

Summary: Concerned for MC and resentful of the men who are making this worse for her, does not want the child to be his because of a genetic issue, but is prepared to take care of MC and the child.

Solomon:

Frowned upon hearing this announcement.

It wasn't because of the pregnancy though.

In truth, the sorcerer was more or less ambivalent about children.

I mean, he did well enough with them and got along well with Luke

But its never exactly been a priority to have his own.

Honestly, Soli didn't even mind the idea of his little Minx carrying the baby of another man; I mean, they all agreed to share her and things like this happen sometimes.

What bothered him was how upset she was.

Told his little Minx that there was nothing to be afraid of.

There's this saying that it takes a village to raise a child and in truth, MC had quite the village in front of her.

Things will work out; it will just take some time.

Summary: Concerned for MC, does not care if the child is his or not, prepared to weather through this storm with his little Minx.

Simeon:

Kept an arm around her while she broke the news to the others.

The angel wished he could take her suffering away, but could only stand with her as she cried.

Has never stopped supporting her since the moment he sensed her pregnancy and will continue to support her.

These other men, many of whom he'd consider a friend, surely will understand.

The situation is difficult, yes, but MC needs them all now more than ever.

Does not truly stop to consider if this child is his or not.

Angels generally don't procreate. Then again, that is because the method of doing so is forbidden in the Celestial realm.

Yes, he and MC have a pretty active bedroom life

And yes, he has just as much of a chance of being the father as the other men

But such thoughts have not even occurred to him yet because he's been so focused on MC and her feelings.

Still, if the child does end up being his, he will love it dearly.

If the child ends up not being his, he will still love it dearly.

This child is his Feather's after all so he will make sure they grow up safe and loved.

Summary: Solely focused on MC's wellbeing, hasn't realized the fact that he himself could be this child's father, will fervently support the woman during this hard time.

[isa-ghost]

✨️ A (Witchy) AMFMN Update ✨️

Also I finally admit I'm famous at the end, war is over and yall won, come read my confession /hj

Spoke to Apollo about AMFMN struggles just now. I say struggles but that sounds scarier than it is, really I just mean grappling with motivation and the energy to write for long periods of time.

It boiled down to the fact that I won the battle against my grief with QSMP ending and no more ongoing Death Family content, but it cost me my motivation to write. That's not to say that the fic is dying or anything, basically I just need to find a new source of motivation, even if that motivation is myself.

But as long as I stay in-tune with myself and keep at writing because I WANT to rather than relying on something fueling me to keep going, I'll be good. Which is what I Have been doing, it's just not been easy. But that's to be expected.

He ended things off saying don't feel discouraged just because the process has gotten a little harder and slower. If I'm ever struggling with motivation or something else to do with the writing process, I can always come to him for guidance and encouragement.

Tbh I really needed to hear the last part even though I already kinda knew it. I'm not entirely sure how me being cheered on by him and him being SO INVESTED in Phil and AMFMN has looked from an outside pov, but Apollo genuinely has been such a devoted fanboy and a great mentor through baby's first huge creative endeavor in a fandom. I've always stuck to OC and original stuff, so fanfic has been a really interesting and different experience.

Also for shits n giggles I asked him if I'm actually "famous" like everyone's been insisting because I love enabling him to be silly with messages. A while back he actually told me AMFMN was gonna pop off and get popular and stuff like that but I never really felt like it had? And some of my other circle members had echoed this to me too, but I still never felt that moment of like "okay yeah, it's popular."

Surprisingly, the first of two tarot cards he just gave me about "being famous" is actually a legit answer. He was saying don't be afraid to indulge the ego sometimes, it's okay to do that if you're not being a dick about it. I did something cool and I deserve to enjoy the pride I have in the success of the fic. And my refusal/denial to do so is kind of rooted in my broader issue with self confidence and whatnot. So lowkey he's bonking me on the head for Indeed Being Just Like Phil, Who Can't Actually Take A Fucking Compliment Or Praise.

The second card he pulled about it was sillier, since that WAS the intention of me jokingly asking him if he did think I was "a famous author." And of all fucking cards to pull he pulled DEATH. Which is SO FUNNY because *gestures to Phil's ties with death* but ALSO THAT CARD IS GENERALLY SO ALARMING TO PULL?? The gist of what he was saying with it is that if I stop letting self image related bs cloud how I look at "my popularity" so to speak, it'd actually hugely boost my confidence and lead to even more success with the fic. And while he can't confirm it'd get me "noticed" by Phil (as some people have for Some Reason said it should, it's not my goal), however that would go down, that IS a possibility. He just kinda said "take the fucking compliments, idiot. If you stay humble without downplaying things, you COULD pop off to the degree some people are already saying you should.

Which tbh,, I DID have a Phil pegs member recently put in perspective that most fics don't pass 1k hits on AO3. I don't know how true that is bc I Didn't Go Here (fic writing) until I got the idea for the AMFMN, but the fact that it has over 8k hits is apparently a huge deal?? And I guess my newness and inexperience with the fanfic scene just has kept me unaware of that?? So statistically speaking, AMFMN *is* famous? Which I just still cannot fathom LOL.

Idk, it's weird to think about. I legit do feel like just some guy who's simply passionately vocal about This Cool Thing I'm Doing. But I will admit, even if I don't Feel "famous" and can't take praise to save my life, it's been genuinely really sweet to have people drowning me in compliments and stuff??

And if I'm being honest, it really does motivate me to keep going, because it's nice to know that people really really like the thing I'm doing. People theorizing and being invested in the story has been the #1 thing making AMFMN so fun. I LOVE watching people try to work out what's gonna happen, when I'm foreshadowing, and yelling at me when I nuke them with angst.

I guess that's a long-winded and self-reflective way of saying thank you to everyone who's been so ride or die about AMFMN so far. Like seriously. It's hard to actually Process all the love but it means the world to still receive it??

But yeah, uh. God says I'm famous guys. Guess I have to admit it now. /silly

Anyway, AMFMN may be slower to update (for now) but I do absolutely mean it when I say it's not gonna die. I am legit too excited about shit I have planned to let it happen.

I wanted to finish Chapter 7 by yesterday but Shit Happened and so I'm gonna try to aim for this weekend instead. If I remember correctly I don't have any plans Saturday so,,, PauseChamp

Also as a quick note, I was gonna say this in the tags but it should actually probably be seen by people: #AMFMN things is the tag I use to save my own posts related to the fic on my blog, BUT if anyone wants to, or is already making theories, art, shitposts, memes, or just generally posting about the fic, I DO check that tag sometimes to see if there's anything not from me. So uh. If you haven't used it already, definitely feel free to use that tag for your own stuff related to the fic too, I will be looking. I 1000% want to see anything and everything people might be saying or posting. It's by far the most rewarding part of writing the fic. :)

[wetcatspellcaster]

Writer Interview Game

thank you so much for tagging me @eraserspiral !!!!

When did you start writing?

I wrote a lot of 'original fiction' as a teen, including a couple of TERRIBLE novels, that were essentially just a grab bag of all the books i was reading at the time. School (and in hindsight, grief) stopped this around 16-18, and then a very high pressure degree at a high profile university seemingly killed off my love of writing entirely.

I got back into writing at 26... weirdly?? just before the panini?? (january 2020, did past-me feel something in the water and know i'd need to hold onto any crumb of serotonin for dear life??) I had just finished my PhD applications, and after sinking so many hours and so many words into the most joy sucking series of forms I've ever encountered, I decided I wanted to write something fun for a change!

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I don't write smut. I read a LOT of smut.

But in terms of themes, I tend to write in worlds/fantasy settings where we can all pretend that capitalism doesn't exist, or that if it does exist, the protagonist is winning at it. I really like speculative fiction (sf and fantasy) that tackles capitalistic themes/poverty well - this has been on my mind recently bc of an arc in a D&D game I've been playing, where my wonderful DM has essentially gone 'capitalism bad' but then let us do something about it <3

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

I find it hard to know what my writing 'is like'... not bc it's wildly unique or anything, but just bc I don't think I can see my own influences that clearly (if anyone wants to drop me some comparisons in the askbox, go for it, I'm curious!)

But in terms of writers I want to emulate, at the chatty/colloquial end it's T Kingfisher and Sarah Rees Brennan, who have a good handle on when to hit emotionally or on high fantasy register, and then when to have really grounded/human moments that make their characters incredibly relatable (and often very funny). At the high fantasy end, it's Shannon Chakraborty, Ann Leckie, Nghi Vo, Silvia Moreno Garcia. They write haunting and engaging narratives!

And, of course, I'm always trying to muster an ounce of whatever the fuck Howl/Sophie had going on.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I use my desk for work/thesis and want to exclusively keep it that way, so my writing space is actually just on the corner of the sofa in my living room, with my legs crossed, a blanket, and a cup of tea. No music, pure autistic silence (but also bc my laptop speaker is broken). Scotland gets dark for a long time in the winter, so it's usually pretty cosy vibes. It's probably not good for me, as I get a LOT of leg cramp.

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Honestly, not to be tsundere about it... but maybe ignore the muse a little? If you've burned out or you're trying to brute force a scene, all you're doing is guilting yourself into being productive. With fic writing, especially, you should be doing it to have fun, not bc you feel like you have to. So if the words aren't coming, do other things for a bit. Go on a day trip, hang out with friends, do chores or read something. In my experience, my brain doesn't stay quiet for long, and ideas for my current project will come to me when i'm not trying to squeeze them out of myself like toothpaste.

Sometimes the well runs dry! Rather than feel terrible about it, be kind to yourself, and wait for rain x

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Hahahahaha, let's not talk about how I keep placing people into the worst versions of themselves and then have them improve and earn love anyway, regardless of if they deserve it. Or how I'm interested in characters who feel a wealth of emotion they hide from everyone behind a mask of either performed indifference, wilful charm, or simply bc they can't articulate it in the socially correct way. Or women who think 'if I cannot be beautiful or loveable, I will be competent', and the men who-

Anyway, introvert x extrovert pairings, amirite? Everything else is shown to me in a vision (my therapist reaches a dead end in my session as I insist nothing is wrong, asks me about my fanfic, and then delivers me a laundry list of the stuff I'm currently coping with. Lowest point: being told im IDing through the fucking DARKLING, on one project. That man is a war criminal, and I dont look like Ben Barnes).

What is your reason for writing?

In the beginning, I think it was pure comfort. I'd just come out of a period of extreme depression, and wanted to hallucinate some characters in love.

But recently, and going forward, I think it is a genuine exercise in proficiency. I thought my writing was so terrible that I said 'I couldn't write', for so fucking long. I now genuinely think this is something I'm good at, and that is something it has taken me so very long to believe, and even longer to say. I am a very self-deprecating person. I have so few things I feel good at, or that I think bring something worthwhile to the table. As academia delivers me blow after blow and the world leaves me feeling worthless, I am going to cling to this until my hands bleed.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

focusing on the 'motivation' part of this question... I think the comments that happen to land on the one specific thing that matters to me, those are the ones that hit hardest. It happens rarer than you'd think. part of the joy of fanfiction comments is the wealth of different reader interpretations, with people seeing things in your own work that you've never noticed. All interpretations are amazing, especially the ones that show you a blindspot you never considered. But when a reader hits the nail fucking on the head (gets a 'gold star in reading comprehension'), that's the most motivating, and makes me want to open my document and write the next chapter. Because I know then that at least one person out there 'gets it', and is fully on board with the story I want to tell.

But that is a very selfish, specific feeling. All comments are motivation, and all reader interpretations have value!

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

Idk if this seems weird or a disingenuous answer but... as a person?? Writing a story for fun? Pieces was a very cool and special experience, but it was very unexpected. I wasn't and never considered myself to be a 'big name fan'. I never want to enter any kind of popularity contest, and I never want to be beholden to people who are reading a story I am writing for fun. Very funny to have a story blow up when you have weird feelings about attention lmfao. Like don't get me wrong, absolutely amazing to ride such a huge tide of support, but this was meant to be my silly introvert hobby :')

I also hope they think my writing is good!! obviously!! i know it can't be everything everyone wants all the time, but you know!! i think it's neat!! I hope y'all think it's neat!! plz and thank!!!

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

lmao eraserspiral's reply to this question was a fucking mood. (just deleted it in my template to make space).

I guess... I know how to flesh out a character, and a character voice. I think I can establish a character's personality, their strengths and their flaws, and have them consistently become the vehicle for both progression and some very real, understandable mistakes. I think chapters from different perspectives feel distinct, and that when development in either direction (bad or good) happens, it feels earned.

idk man, this is a hard one to answer when depressed :')

How do you feel about your own writing?

At the end of the day, it's a lifeline. Sometimes I keep very much to myself and I protect it fiercely, because it's one of the only things that kept me going at certain points in the last few years. At my lowest, I've often wondered for what, if anything, I'll be remembered for or what I'll leave behind... and now I actually have things! 12 whole stories, where once there was nothing! Sure, it's fanfic! But some people's favourite fanfic. None of it is perfect, but it all matters to me, and we're now at the point (4 years in) where I am starting to slowly realise how it has changed me as a person, and will continue to change me going forward.

I want to start on some original ideas once my thesis is over, vivaed and done, but I don't currently see my writing as anything something I can make into a career, bc I need to keep the joy in it as the joy literally keeps me alive :')

tagging: @imscissorbladez, @pricemarshfield, @blarfshnorgull, @violacae, @dededrabbles, @brabblesblog - no pressure, just trying to share this tag game to more groups/social circles! :) x

[cal-writes]

hi, i'm here with a couple of bits for the ask game! ❤️ in general AND specifically 221 Beika Street series. 💥 for both one piece and detco. and ✨️👓����🦈📚💛 please! may you have a blessed day, Cal!

damn you did not mess around! lets hope mobile doesnt destroy me trying to answer

i will put this under read more bc it got long!

❤️ What is your favorite line that you’ve written in a fic?

i have many! generally i like my dialogue the best usually so this one is from my most recent one piece wip

-

Kureha scoffs and waves him off. “Oh, please. You’re practically glowing like a young bride. You definitely got laid.”

for detco i loved this exchange in A Matter of Deduction

“For the record, you’re a terrible liar.” Shinichi threw over. Hattori hung his head briefly with a sharp laugh. He shut off the water in the sink and dried his hands on a dishtowel he threw at Shinichi with too little force, causing it to land on the floor between them.

 

“And you’re a terrible detective.”

-

for 221 beika street specifically i loved writing amuro and shinichi being bitchy at each other

“I like him better than I do you.” He told Amuro plainly. It wasn’t much of an achievement, considering, but Shinichi still felt like it needed to be said. Since they were being so honest with each other after all. 

 

“I’m well aware,” Amuro said, chuckling. “I hate you less than I do him.” He was still idly turning pages in the book and Shinichi slammed it shut in his hands.

 

“If you bring your gun here again I will make you regret it.”

💥 What is one canon thing that you wish you could change?

for one piece i think it would be the reveal of why sanji wanted to have to power to turn invisible. listen i have a tough time liking sanji in canon and i thought when it was first brought up that yknow that could be an interesting thing to explore esp with his backstory later with his shitty family like do something with that! and then they were like nah he wants to harass women in the bath. like i pretend i do not see it

for detco its hard bc i think there is so much thats only debatably canon. for me detco isnt really one continuous story so i like to pick and choose with canon anyway. maybe just more queer representation. or any i suppose (the movies arent really canon but the lupin crossover movie has like two or three lines in it that i despise and wish to delete from out universe entirely)

✨️ Out of the comments you’ve received on your fics, what are two or three of your favorites?

there is a lovely person called hikarinomajin (i forgot what their tumblr user name is and cannot find it for the live of me rn) who made a thread on twitter as they read 221 beika street and linked it in the comments and that was a joy to read. they leave lovely comments but that first one and the thread is special to me, ive never had someone make a thread live blogging them reading my writing.

also @blithe-bee is the best hype woman for my wips, lots of comments from her in my google docs drafts that are a huge motivation, i have posted one of my recent favorites on this blog about stabbing zoro being my brand

also a very different but hilarious one is this one on Glue Trap from BnuuyTales, makes me cackle every time

👓 What helps you focus when you write?

playlists! i make playlists for everything. when im starting to get serious about a story i will sit down and make a playlist. here is part of the 221 beika street one

🦋 Which character is your favorite to write?

they all have their unique quirks. i think i feel the most at home in heijis and laws head bc i can project my own way of thinking on it. a bit scattered and a bit overdrive and run on sentences. its the easiest to write as them i think. a few other characters are fun to write though just because i can use a different style. ive really been enjoying writing robin from one piece and my one shot from sonokos pov bc they think very differently and have different focus and expressions

🦈 Which character is the toughest to write?

i really struggled with kaito at first. ive mostly seen the movies for detco in the beginning and hadnt read the kaito manga yet so i felt like pulling teeth trying to get his voice down.

for one piece i tried my hand at usopp recently too and i definitely am not as comfortable in his pov yet as other characters but i could see myself really enjoying him down the line

📚 Is there a fanfic or fanfic writer you recommend?

@the-pen-pot is someone ive been following since livejournal and shes (i hope thats the right pronouns) a great writer! merlin unfortunately isnt my fandom but if you are into merlin im sure her stuff is still great if not better then when i read her fullmetal alchemist fics back in the day

specific fics is a little though for op and detco bc as soon as i start writing fic i will read less of it in any given fandom xD

but here are some favs

i think a classic for detco is a study in scarlette great work by kittebasu

kaishin power hour, great plot and fantastic pace, also really interesting character exploration

for one piece i absolutely loved Cut My Feelings Clean Off by Augment

zoro as the heart pirates first mate, fantastic dynamics here. absolutely love how their wrote law

if you are into grandmaster of demonic cultivation and horror Post Mortem by Cataclysmic_Calamity was a breathtaking piece of work but do be mindful of the content warnings. the climax is so fantastic i read it multiple times

and for some red vs blue fans P versus NP by @glassedplanets

wash and maine in a canon divergent story. one of my absolute favorites, i followed the progress for years and the author recently started writing one piece too! (that ive been meaning to read as well) so definitely check their stuff out. they also make beautiful art

i wish i was better with names bc i know some of these people have tumblrs too that i follow but i cannot remember the names. i just see vague icon blobs when i scroll my timeline

💛 What is the most impactful lesson you’ve learned about writing?

i know its hard especially in this current age of social media but just write for yourself. like i sometimes call writing exorcising things from my brain and i think thats where the passion comes from. dont write for numbers and likes (although those are of course nice too) but they arent a sign of quality or capability.

ages ago on a different website i once did this test where i took the same fic, changed the names into one from a bigger fandom and posted them both. and to see the difference in numbers just based on which fandom or paaring it was from really helped me move on from that mindset of “if there are no comments or likes its bad” sometimes it just means less people have seen it

wow thank you for asking all of them!! this is fun

[myfairkatiecat]

Directors Commentary on mirrored conflicts pls? 🥹

OOOOH ONE OF MY FAVORITE FICS THAT I AM WRITING!

The biggest challenge writing mirrored conflicts is that since it’s a Sokeefe AU, I have to set up the Sokeefe romance, which is only good if it’s in character—and these characters are SLOW. I can have Keefe immediately recognize how pretty Sophie looks, but that’s about IT as far as I can go given how long these idiots took when they started out as friends, and in the AU they start out as ENEMIES.

The plot is based significantly on the events of Lodestar, and everything up til then proceeded mostly the same as normal, just without Keefe existing. So when Sophie and Keefe interact, it’s within this context of the lodestar plotline with the symbol and the neverseen going after Sophie’s family and ultimately the peace summit. They’re also training at exillium to explode things with their minds, which definitely will make its way into this fic bc Shannon should use that more often. But at the same time Sophie is sort of investigating what’s going on with this “nemesis” character of hers who she kind of likes interacting with.

I try to get into the heads of the characters to move the romance along as fast as is actually realistic for these idiots, which is still PAINFULLY slow, but makes for a better fic! I was able to realistically get them over the “enemies” hurdle with their relatability with each other and the fact that both of them are suffocating under the expectations of their respective organizations and talking to someone who expects nothing of them is like a breath of fresh air, even if they ideologically disagree. Still, Sophie is SUPER careful—at least, until this most recent chapter—so getting her to even admit that they’re friends is terrifying for her, and I’m trying to portray that realistically! After all, they’re meeting in secret, and Sophie should theoretically be telling the black swan everything she finds out about her nemesis, but instead, she really likes him and doesn’t want to hurt him.

Getting the characters to a point where the romance can begin is DIFFICULT, because I’ve even gotten to the point where sophie admits that there’s no way she can stay away from him, but even then she’s only admitting that he draws her in. Keefe calls her a breath of fresh air in his narration. And they mean this all in a very friendly way, which again, getting them to admit that they’re FRIENDS is the first hurdle I have to get over, though I think we’re finally there!

Sophie throws caution to the wind in the latest chapter, deciding to fully trust Keefe—at least, outside of their organizational conflict. They sorts create their own world away from everything else where they can just exist, which BOTH OF THEM NEED, and sets up a very special and unique relationship between them that I think I achieved in a manner that realistic to their characters!

Keefe definitely falls first in every universe, and you can tell in the latest chapter that he’s closer to noticing her in that way, though he isn’t thinking about it like that. He’s drawn in by her and he knows there’s something about it that’s different than normal, though he isn’t sure what, and he has no trouble admitting that she’s “objectively beautiful” in his head because that doesn’t involve any of his own feelings (but what if it does?)

Sophie hasn’t noticed him romantically yet, but one of the most important aspects of Sokeefe is that it’s not Sophie’s internal narration that gives away how much she cares for Keefe, but her actions. Throughout all of canon, you can tell Sophie is in love with him even though she never once considers that she might have a crush on him until book 9, because her unconditional love was shown to the audience through her actions and then when she got to stellarlune she was like “oh… was that love? I think that’s love. I think I’m in love. “ which was like. FINALLY. But we already knew. She was the last to know, and I plan on making mirrored conflicts follow the same pattern! It’s clear to US that she’s in love, and at some point keefe does admit his own feelings to himself, but Sophie takes forever to realize how she really feels.

I adore writing this fic! Thank you for asking about it!

[rowarn]

i would like to formally apologize for my PUBLIC MELTDOWN IT WAS A MOMENT OF WEAKNESS 🫡 i appreciate all the kind words people sent me to try and encourage me and help me feel better. i slept it off and am feeling a little better and am ready to try again to be a Person altho im a little emotionally drained. i think a lot of things just weighed down on me recently and last night was just when i couldn't take the burden load anymore and i just needed to regulate in a way i hadn't been for a while.

nevertheless i'm very grateful for the little community i've cultivated here on my blog and i appreciate all of u who make my time writing here fun and enjoyable 🥹 i am eternally glad i made this silly little blog and you guys have made it rlly fun. we have over 7000 of you here and you're all so kind and lovely and it's such a drastic difference to my early days when i was making posts talking to NOBODY bc no one wanted to talk to me LMFAOOOO and now i have lovely anons who come in like every day to say something to me, who think of me, and i have lovely mutuals who are so so so kind and sweet and are truly wonderful people.

and i plan to keep dishing out little fics and drabbles and random nonsensical posts until my dying breath!!!!! hehe ily guys big kisses mwah <3

ok i'll stop being soggy now (-:

[specialgradefckr]

Heyyo! I'm usually just a lurker, but your Heatwave series has been absolutely incredible and I had to write in. I'm not usually an ABO fan, but you are rapidly changing my mind. Started with the Yuuta/Rika piece and loved your characterization of that sad eyed dude. Sweet and mostly passive while also being fully aware of reader-chan's BS.

Day 4 tho??? 🥵🔥🥵 I'm a more recent Gojo convert and oh my stars, "...you think for a moment he sounds like a dog toy. You think you want to make him your dog toy." Arrogant, but also whiney and pathetic Gojo really hits for me. The Pining? Phenomenal.

Just wanted to gas you up a bit and let you know what an excellent writer you are. Totally looking forward to the rest of the Heatwave series and whatever else your big brain cooks up in the future! 😊

wanted to gas you up a bit

awwhhhhHHh THANK YOUUUU 🥺 i super appreciate it!!!

honestly i started this blog recently and i've been trying not to compare the numbers but sometimes i get discouraged, you know? like, i AM doing it for the art (i knew day 3 was not gonna get a lot of love) but i'm posting it bc it makes me happy to see people enjoying it.

it's super encouraging to hear from you (and all the others who leave comments or reblog etc.) that my work is doing well.

i'm trying to be more critical of my own writing, fix things i don't like about it, and sometimes i need a reminder that it's still worthwhile and enjoyable to read even when i feel like it could have been better.

I've been writing like? All 10 of the Heatwave prompts concurrently, and while it means I have all of them drafted and partly written rn, it also means I switch between them a lot.

Inevitably I start to kinda. Lose the plot sometimes of a scene I'm trying to write skdfhglsdhg like the intro to the Yuta fic was SOOOO long actually and it was rambling about social phenomena with alphas, basically the omegaverse version of red pill dudes LMAOOO

and that was also supposed to lead in to like. the idea of what a REAL alpha is. the non-gendered values of leadership, protectiveness, and actually being sensitive to the thoughts and feelings of people around them (a crucial trait for someone in a leadership position).

and yuta fits those things SO WELL. he is CONSTANTLY worried about the people around them, how they feel and what they think. he admires the shit out of his classmates who like, tried to attack him when they first met fghskjdfgh. he wants to protect them but he never looks down on them.

later in the manga we see that yuta's consideration and empathy isn't just for his classmates. he cares a lot even for people who are very capable of protecting themselves - he cares about their feelings.

so i just knew like. yuta and tsundere reader. yuta who can see though your fussiness because he's always been perceptive.

yuta who thinks you're hot bc he has a constant boner for strong women but also has a deep yearning to see you be honest and vulnerable with him, and goes feral for it.

yuta who you can be vulnerable with because you know him and his gentle smile, his kind words, how he looks up to you even though he's a special grade and stronger than you'll ever be,, hhhh....

but yeah anyways. *grasps you and shakes you by the shoulder* GOJO. GOJO SATORU BEING HIS PATHETIC NEEDY SELF. GOJO BEING YOUR SQUEAKY TOY AND LOVING EVERY SECOND OF IT -

tmi but "fuck me until i sound like a dog toy" is actually something a previous partner said to me??? i've never been much of a top but hearing that just kinda had me... hsdfgjhdsg HHHHHH

i think a major part of gojo's appeal is how he can be arrogant and pretty AND sultry all at once. there's something utterly delicious about a slutty confident man who is also crying screaming throwing up for you to let him put it in you skdhflsdhg

next heatwave fic is sdkfgsdlhgshg uhhhHHhh different from the ones you have read, it's a yandere piece with gojo and geto.

After that it's another gojo piece i think you'll REALLY like >.> masochist!gojo is a favorite headcanon of mine and i was actually super hyped writing some of the smut there so far hehe.

glad you've enjoyed so far! more to come for sure ;)