#keep livin without him n move on from him

[gurorori]

heres a random assortment of dddne 🪦🕊️ from m y head uhh its jus 2 actually. im violently ill

[tightjeansjavi]

Slow Hands | Chapter 4

“I used to float, now I just fall down”

A/N: so I already forewarned that this was going to be a particularly heavy chapter. I also just want to say that I don’t claim to be a medical expert on the effects trauma can have on a person. I also do not self diagnose, but I did a lot of research on the reasoning behind why Beanie doesn’t have any recollection of what happened to her. I specifically researched‘dissociative amnesia’ caused by trauma. Some of the symptoms may include a person forgetting part or all of the traumatic event, and having a ‘foggy’ memory of trauma, or feeling like ‘it didn’t happen to you.’ However, even if you are unable to recall specific details, your body still does which would explain Beanie’s flight or fight response to specific sounds. Depending on the person, your body may associate certain sounds, sights, and smells to a specific traumatic event. Thank you for reading 🤎

~word count: 4.1k~

Pairing | Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: while on patrol, Tommy and Joel make a gruesome discovery.

Warnings: disturbing/distressing themes that may be harmful to some viewers. Please do not read if this kind of content upsets you. Violence, dead bodies, talk of the past, mention of murder, mentions of guns, mentions of chains, implied S/A by raiders, women held captive, trauma, trauma triggers, PTSD, possible diagnosis of dissociative amnesia (I do not claim to be an expert and just did some heavy research to make it accurately depicted in the story), protective! Joel, Beanie dissociates on her rooftop, implied suicidal thoughts, implied depression, isolation, some fluff towards the end, Joel is incredibly gentle with beanie, no age gap, reader has no physical descriptions, readers nickname is beanie (coffee beans) +18, minors dni! Please heed the warnings!

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“What the hell do ya mean she doesn’t know what fuckin’ happened to herself? What does that even mean,Tommy?!” Joel was visibly frustrated, confused, and bewildered. His mind was already running circles as he tried to piece together what he knew about you. He was desperate to grasp some context clues that would ultimately lead to a conclusion as to what had happened to you. He gently pulled back on his horse's reins between a cluster of snow dusted evergreens.

Tommy, however, kept his horse moving and this frustrated Joel even further.

“Don’t you fuckin’ walk away from me like you’re deaf or somethin’ ,Tommy!”

The younger Miller brother cursed under his breath as he halted his horse a few strides ahead of Joel. Both brothers were deathly silent. Tommy rolled his shoulders, appearing to try and relieve some stress and tension that was building up. He gently pulled the inside rein towards his torso as he turned his horse around. “Would you fuckin’ keep your goddamn voice down? This is exactly why I don’t want to discuss this with you, Joel.”

“You think I give a damn? What, you just expect me to go ‘bout my business when she crumbled into my arms this morning?’ Tommy, you know me, you know I ain’t gonna let this go.” Joel’s tone was far softer now. His frustrations were still simmering below the surface like that of a once dormant volcano that was gradually becoming active once more.

“Look, Maria and I have our own assumptions about what happened to her. When we found her..she was in pretty fuckin’ rough shape. She was most likely traveling for days without food or water Joel. She was barely breathin’, and for a moment we thought she was long gone.”

“Well, that ain’t all surprising..considerin’ we’re livin’ in an apocalypse Tommy.” Joel fought the urge to scoff under his breath. Tommy wasn’t giving him a straight answer and he wasn’t having any of it.

“That ain’t the fuckin’ point, Joel. Maria..she found somethin’ on her.” Tommy trailed off as he focused anywhere but his brother’s face.

“Tommy, what the hell did she find? Spit it out, or so help me god–” He nearly growled out as his jaw clenched harshly under the pale white moonlight.

“Someone tried to fuckin’ carve her up. That’s what.” Tommy deadpanned.

“what?” Joel could feel the bile rise in his throat at this newfound utterly disturbing information. His pupils were blown wide and an unsettling chill rolled down his spine.

“You fuckin’ heard me. Some sick fucks tried to carve her up. Maria and I both think it was raiders.”

“..like us?” Joel’s question hung heavy in the air as both Miller brothers slowly looked over at one another. There was nothing for them to hide. They had both done unspeakable things to countless people. Some people deserved it..others? Not so much. Joel knew it would be impossible for him to wipe all of his sins and carnage completely clean. His moral compass had been skewed after Sarah died. His actions were fueled by rage and indescribable pain. But even though he was a murderer, and he,Tommy, and Tess committed heinous crimes together, even they had their limits.

“No, Joel. Not like us. We didn’t fuckin’ carve people up.” Tommy shook his head with a heavy sigh. Maria didn’t know half of the shit he had done to survive, and he hoped to god she would never find out.

“No, you’re right. We didn’t carve people up, but we did some terrible fuckin’ things, Tommy.” There was a heaviness in Joel’s voice that lingered in the frosty air.

“Yeah, we did. Endure and survive, right?” Tommy responded with a bitter laugh that slowly crept up his throat.

“So, when you say that they tried to carve her up..”

“Maria found a knife wound that pretty much wraps all the way up her torso and back. It was, and is gruesome.”

“Fuck.” Joel breathed out a puff of air as his heart began to hang heavy in his chest. “She doesn’t remember any of it?”

“No. We actually had Doc check her out after we brought her in, and he thinks she might have dissociative amnesia. He said it’s commonly found in patients that have dealt with an excessive form of trauma. Essentially, her brain is blocking out certain events to protect itself. He of course doesn’t know for sure, but that’s the best explanation he could give as to why she has a foggy memory of what happened to her. He also..thinks there’s a chance that she was heavily drugged for an extended period of time, which could have also led to her memory essentially being botched. That wasn’t..all that Doc found. He also said that after doing a full body exam–”

Joel cut him off immediately like a sharp knife slicing through a hunk of meat. “Stop. Not another word, Tommy. Not another fuckin’ word.” Joel whispered harshly under his breath. He could only imagine the hell you went through. God help those motherfuckers if he ever got his hands on them.

“All this is to say that she may never fully recover those memories. Frankly? It’s probably for the best. I’m entrustin’ you with this information, Joel. And I need you to promise me that you’re not going to go and ask her questions. I need you to bite your fuckin’ tongue on this one. Alright? Jus’ be her friend. Jus’ be there for her.”

Joel wanted to laugh. He wanted to bitterly laugh and shake his fists to the heavens above because how in the hell was he supposed to just deal with the guilt of having some form of knowledge on what happened to you. How was he supposed to look you in the eyes without imagining the horrors that you faced? How was he supposed to pretend?

“Tommy, you know I can’t–”

“I don’t give a damn on what you think you can’t do, Joel. I’m not about to let you or anyone for that matter go and traumatize that poor woman even more. Maria started treatin’ her different than everyone else at one point, and Beanie came to me one day and wanted to know why. I had to sit down with Maria and practically beg her to just treat her like a normal person. Folks ‘round here either think she’s the nutty coffee woman, or some fragile piece of china that is gonna shatter at any minute. She ain’t either of those things, but hey, I guess even an apocalypse can’t stop people from havin’ their judgements.”

“For the record, Tommy, I don’t think she’s either of those things either. Quirky? Sure. She’s better than half the folks in town. That is for damn certain.”

“Exactly. So just treat her like a normal person. Don’t go and try to be her savior either. She ain’t need savin. She just needs a friendly face that understands her.”

“I have a friendly face?” Joel murmured with a soft chuckle to alleviate the tension.

“Hardly, big brother.” Tommy softly joked back.

“So, just so I got this all straight, Doc said that he thinks she might have..dissociative amnesia..but then what about her triggers? Does he know about her episodes? Cus’ she looked at me like I was gonna fuckin’ hurt her. If her brain is tryin’ to block out the trauma..her body is still actively experiencing it?” Joel asked as he gently nudged his horse’s side to walk forward.

“Y’know how you have your own triggers? I’m thinkin’ that she does as well. However, hers are most likely associated with noise. When we first brought her in we had her stay at our place for awhile..and there was one mornin’ I was up early putzin’ around the kitchen and I guess the sound of a pan clatterin’ in the sink freaked her out. She kept tellin’ Maria someone was out to get her, but when Maria asked who, she couldn’t answer.”

“Well..that explains what happened this mornin.’ I jus’ uh—wanted to do somethin’ nice for her so I was shovelin’ her walkway. Maybe the sound of the shovel scrapin’ on the concrete triggered her?”

“Well, chivalry ain’t dead. That’s for damn sure. Yeah, I’m sure it triggered her flight or fight response. She wasn’t logically able to decipher what the noise actually was. Y’know, I'm pretty sure Doc has some books on this stuff if you wanna read up on it.”

Joel was just about to respond when his horse let out a nervous snort and pawed at the ground with his hoof. Horses were incredibly intuitive creatures. They could sense danger from a mile away.

Both Tommy and Joel were already grasping their rifles in a fight response. There was a drifting odor of smoke from a fire..at first Joel thought it was just a typical wood burning fire, until the putrid stench of rotting flesh hit his olfactory senses and it brought him right back to living in the QZ. His eyes watered, and his lungs burned. No doubt in his mind that there was a raider camp nearby.

“We should turn back right fuckin’ now Joel. We should go find the others—” Tommy hissed under his breath.

“No. We’re gonna go investigate. Lucas and Cody probably already detected the smoke as well. This ain’t the first time you and I have gone into somethin’ together. You cover me, and I’ll cover you. Deal?” It was incredible how fast Joel was able to switch back into survival mode. It was embedded deep within his bones, and it didn’t take much for it to be clawing right through his skin. He had been the hunter, more times than he had been the prey.

“If we’re outnumbered, then we split. Got it?” Tommy wasn’t about to go and risk his life tonight.

“Got it.” Joel agreed.

The raiders camp was only a few miles to the east from Jackson. The smoke was billowing high in the air as Joel and Tommy used the snowy evergreens as cover. They had since dismounted from their horses and continued on foot. The camp they stumbled upon was freshly abandoned..but why keep the fire going? Was the first thought that crossed both Joel and Tommy’s minds. They had the barrel of their rifles aimed at the ready as they cautiously crept through the camp. The smell of rotting flesh only began to intensify as they neared the source of the fire.

What they stumbled upon was nothing short of gruesome. Five bodies in total stacked upon chopped down logs. It was difficult to make out facial features, as the deceased bodies were charred to a crisp. One thing was for certain, these people were not infected.

“Were they killed for sport?” Tommy questioned as Joel slowly crouched down next to a body that wasn’t as scorched completely. He could make out feminine features and long follicles of hair. He could feel the bile churn deep in the pit of his stomach as he looked away and pressed his face into the collar of his jacket to try and block out the smell. “These are women, Tommy. Five of ‘em. All dead.”

“Jesus fuck. What the hell happened here?” Lucas and Cody had smelled the fire as well. They were in utter disbelief as they approached the slow burning fire.

“Raiders.” Joel muttered under his breath as he slowly stood back up. His knees cracked from the movement as he grinded his teeth together to block out the uncomfortable tightness in his back.

“Were they infected?” Lucas had asked.

“No. They were just..people.” Tommy somberly confirmed.

Silence washed over the four men as they retreated from the fire. Joel kicked at a pair of heavy chains that laid upon the ground with his boot. “These women were prisoners.”

“We need to put this fire out, and then report back to Maria immediately. She’s goin’ to want to hear about this, and I already know she ain’t gonna be happy.” Tommy muttered as he slung his rifle strap along his shoulder.

“Tommy, we can’t just leave them here. They deserve a proper burial. They deserve to be laid to rest..” Joel couldn’t help but wonder how long these five women were enslaved. Could they have been saved if the patrol group had left earlier? Five lives could have been saved if only he had just—

“Joel, I hear you brother, but the ground is too hard. We can’t bury them. I’m sorry.” Tommy was sorry. These five women deserved better. He wanted to be able to bring them peace as well, but some things were just not possible.

“Fine. I’ll fuckin’ do it myself.” Joel snapped as he slung his rifle strap over his shoulder in one swift movement. He started the trek back to his horse while Lucas and Cody kicked a bit of snow over the dying embers.

Joel returned with a blanket from his saddle bag. He was going to attempt to move the bodies, but he was afraid that their charred bones would shatter. Instead he gently laid the blanket over their remains. He stood there for a good solid five minutes just staring down at the snow covered earth with a clenched jaw, before he finally walked away.

For the entirety of the somber ride back to Jackson, Joel was dead silent.

It had felt like months had passed since you had last seen Joel Miller. In all actuality, it had only been one month. Your brain was just going all doomsday mode on you and convincing you it had been longer. At first you had tricked yourself in believing that maybe Joel didn’t actually want to be your friend. Maybe he was just lying. Maybe he too thought of you as just the nutty coffee woman. It wasn’t till Maria had given you a surprise visit to your little coffee shop. While she was quietly sipping on her latte, you couldn’t help but ask if she had seen Joel lately. You felt slightly pathetic with a sprinkle of naivety. Were you really that desperate for human connection?

“I assigned him, Tommy and a few other men to patrol the late night shift. They stumbled upon something in the woods, and brought it to my attention. Now, before you start freaking out, we are safe here. What they found was just concerning, and they’re making sure that there is no active threat that we need to pay any concern to.”

You paused the movements of the towel below your palm as you were wiping down the countertop. “Oh. I thought maybe he just..nevermind. What exactly did they find in the woods that was concerning, Maria?”

“Beanie, you know I can’t disclose that to you. All I need you to remember is that you're safe. That’s why we have patrol parties. They keep everyone in the commune safe. I just figured you were deserving to know that Joel hasn’t been blowin’ you off for the past month. Him and Tommy are resting in the morning after patrolling all night. It shouldn’t be an issue now that the weather is starting to shift. Usually means that people are movin’ on as resources will be plentiful again.”

You let out a sigh as you crossed your arms over your chest. It did feel silly in some way that you let your brain convince you that Joel was in fact blowing you off. “Yeah.” You mumbled under your breath. “I know why you can’t disclose that information to me.”

“You’ll see him in a few weeks, Beanie. Don’t worry.” Maria reassured you.

Ha

By the time that you did see Joel again, winter wasn’t quite ready to release her icy grip around the earth. She was going to cling on just a bit longer. It was late at night and to put it simply? You were having a rough time. Spending the majority of your day alone was beginning to close in around you. The thoughts were growing louder and louder, and the nightmares you had begun to experience were the same sequence over and over like a vicious cycle that you were sucked down into, unable to escape its painful clutches. That's how you found yourself sitting alone on your roof. Your bedroom window was opened just enough that you were able to climb out onto the roof tiles. You were shivering at first, trembling as your teeth rattled against your jaw. Soon enough, the nipping chill didn’t feel as painful. A peaceful numbness washed over you as if you were in a trance.

Joel had just gotten back from being on patrol. He stopped at the stables to untack his horse, Tex and then he was heading home. He passed by your house every night, and he would stop at your front gate, debate seeing if you were awake, before he would ultimately decide going straight home was easier. On this particular night he was torn from his path home. All because he swore he saw a shadowy figure sitting on your rooftop. He thought maybe his own mind was playing tricks on him until he stepped closer to your house. He was then able to make out a human shape sitting upon the roof tiles. He didn’t even have to guess hard if it was you sitting up there. He just knew.

He called your name, and you didn’t budge a smidge.

“For fuck sakes.” He muttered under his breath as he cupped his hands on either side of his face and yelled your name once more. “BEANIE!” This time his baritone voice broke through the figurative icy shell that was wrapped around you like a cloak. You finally looked down, squinting through the vast darkness.

“Woman is gonna fuckin’ freeze to death out here. Fuck. What the hell is she doin’ up there anyway?!?” He muttered to himself as he pushed open your gate. “I’m comin’ up!” He yelled from the top step of your front porch.

Joel?

The sounds of his heavy boot steps descending up your staircase sounded muffle to your ears as you slowly dropped your chin to rest along your kneecap.

“Jesus fuck, Beanie. What the hell are you doin’ out here?” Joel harshly whispered as he pushed open your bedroom door. He had genuine concern stricken through his hardened features.

“Sitting outside on the roof.” You murmured.

“Yeah, ya don’t say? I can see that you’re sittin’ on the roof, but its fuckin’ freezin’ out here. Why don’t ya have a jacket? A blanket? Beanie, you’re gonna fuckin’ freeze to death out here.” He was already slipping his own jacket off of his shoulders and gently placing it along your shoulders as he carefully climbed through the window and onto the roof beside you.

“I don’t really feel the cold anymore, Joel.” There was a lack of emotion in your tone as your eyes slowly flitted over to him.

“Fuck. Well, that ain’t good either, darlin.’”

“I just..needed to breathe. I felt like I was suffocating in there.”

“Somethin’ happen? How long..have you been feelin’ this way Beanie?” Joel asked you softly as he met your soft gaze.

“I don’t know. A while?”

Joel sighed as he rested his weight back on his palms. “Well, I've felt that way before too. Numerous times actually. I’ll have these moments where the fear comes up outta nowhere, and…my heart feels like it’s stopped.” He softly admitted.

“Like…you can’t breathe?”

“Yeah, like there’s water in my lungs instead of oxygen. Like i’m drownin’ and no matter how hard I swim, I can’t make it to the surface.” He murmured.

“Like..the darkness is closing in? Swallowing you whole?”

“Yeah, but that’s why you gotta look for the light. When you're lost in the darkness, look for the light.”

Joel’s words hung heavy in the air as you both sat in silence, looking up at the vast array of stars that were outshone by the brilliant pale white moon. Shining like a beacon in the inky black sky.

“Joel?” You asked through the growing silence.

“Hm darlin?’”

“Joel, what keeps you moving forward?”

Joel didn’t even have to give a single thought to your question. He already knew the answer. It was family. Family was the one thing that kept moving him forward in this new life.

“Family. You keep goin’ for family.” He confirmed as he watched the way you absentmindedly scratched at your arm, wiggled your nose as you let out a puff of icy air. “I don’t have any family.”

“That ain’t true at all. We’re friends, you and I. Friends can be family. What about Maria and Tommy? Wouldn’t you consider them to be your family as well?” Joel was looking straight into your eyes now as he softly spoke.

“You..consider me to be your family?”

“Darlin’, absolutely I do. You are my family. Why do you think I'm up here with ya right now?”

“To keep me from freezing to death?”

“Well, yes. But also because..I like spendin’ time with you. You think I'd come up here if I didn’t care about ya? I got a bad back and knees, darlin.’ One fatal slip off here and I'm toast.” He stifled a chuckle as his hand was now resting close to your own along the roof tiles

“Please, don’t fall.” Your pinky slowly looped around his.

“I ain’t gonna fall, dontcha worry.”

“Well, for the record, I'm glad you came up here.” There was a ghost of a smile on your lips as you looked over at him once more.

“Me too.” He gave your pinky a gentle squeeze. “Hey, if ya want..maybe you can go spend some time with Dina and Ellie? Help out around the stables? I know they can always use an extra set of hands.” He softly suggested.

“I guess I could do that, huh? I could use some more fresh air and I do like to see the horses.”

“Well, there ya go darlin.’ Sounds like you got it all figured out. I just know they’ll also appreciate seein’ another friendly face. Ellie ain’t got many friends either beside Dina and Jesse. I uh—think you’ll get along really well.”

“Joel?..” you asked as your cheek came to rest along his covered shoulder.

His heart skipped a beat as he did his best to not move and disturb you.

“Yeah Beanie?” He gently asked.

“Thank you.”

“What are ya thankin’ me for?” He asked as he cleared his throat under his breath.

“For being my friend.”

His heart had nearly just gone and burst right out of his chest as the frigid air turned the tips of his cheeks and nose bright red. He was secretly thankful that it was far too dark for you to detect the blush rising on his skin.

“You’re welcome darlin.’”

The sun was just beginning to peek above the horizon when Joel had finally convinced you to go back inside. He was genuinely concerned that parts of your body were frozen. Despite his aching back, and tired joints, he stayed with you until he felt like you were safe. His eyelids were beginning to droop as he rested his palm along his chin. His head bobbed as he struggled to stay awake. You were busy making a fresh pot of coffee and homemade cinnamon rolls, and you didn’t see his slumped form until you had turned around.

“Fiddlesticks,” you softly murmured as you set your bowl down and attended to his side. You gently shook his shoulder a few times before he was startled awake.

“Hey, how about you go and lay down on the couch? Rest up before you head home?”

You didn’t have to ask him twice as he slowly pulled himself up from the kitchen chair and trudged into the family room. You followed him shortly after and grabbed the thick quilt from alongside the couch and draped it over his sleeping frame. His arms were crossed over his chest as he snored softly through his much deserved slumber.

When he awoke hours later, there was a mug of coffee on the coffee table next to the couch along with a freshly baked cinnamon roll. Under the plate there was a scribbled note that read, Went to go see Dina and Ellie at the stables. Make yourself at home. -Beanie

He carefully tucked the note into his flannel pocket as he sat up. He took a hefty swig from the mug of coffee before he picked up the cinnamon roll. It smelled heavenly. With just the right amount of cinnamon and vanilla as the icing slowly oozed down the sides of his fingers. His first bite nearly had him moaning from the sugary taste. He devoured the entire thing, before drifting right back off to sleep with his arms wrapped tightly around the quilt that you had laid on him.

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[tieronecrush]

hot & heavy

chapter five: try to walk away

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 8.6k (long but lots to cover)

warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced/virgin reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, mentions of food/eating, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, etc.), polite southern manners (use of sir), feeling familial and self-pressure, oral sex (f), fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, likely poor spanish grammar, ANGST

a/n: here it is -- the end of summer #1 with joel </3 more to come from these two. and a HUGE thank you to lovely sweet el @northernwindd for the beta read!!! appreciate you v much bb

Sunday morning air filters through the cracked window, the warmth from the sunlight radiating over your exposed skin. Goosebumps rise every few moments from a combination of the oscillating fan in Joel’s room and the way he’s been looking at you since the two of you woke up together this morning. Navy blue sheets drape over your nude body, head resting on the pillow while you lay on your side facing him. Birds chirp loudly to each other outside, melodic background noise to the slow-rise conversations you and Joel keep pulling each other into.

From how you take your coffee to where you saw yourself in five or ten years, there weren’t many topics off-limits in the vulnerable morning after. Joel learned that you take your coffee with enough milk to change the drink to caramelly color, and you learned that Joel takes his black. As for future plans, you both conveniently skate around relationships, focusing more on what you see for your careers. Joel confidently tells you that he wants to build his contracting business to be able to take on a more managerial role and be able to spend more time at home with Sarah, which stretches a smile across your face.

“So you’re telling me I’m out of a summer job in the next five to ten years?”

“‘Fraid so, darlin’. But you won’t need me by then, you’ll be off livin’ lavishly in Boston and making ads that we’ll be seeing on billboards down here.”

The look you’re sharing with Joel tightens your chest, your vision glazing over to fuzz Joel out barely out of focus. You can’t really tell if it’s from the emotion that’s filling your ribcage and squeezing your lungs or if it’s from attempting to keep your eyes open on him to not miss any minute signal of body language from him.

“Maybe so, but that will just gimme an excuse to come down and visit. To see all my billboards.”

He comes back into focus when you blink the moisture away, a crisp image of the crinkles next to his eyes and dimple on display.

“Oh, yeah? That’s the only reason you’d visit? Nothing else bringin’ you back?”

A hum rolls out of your chest as you pretend to think, index finger tapping against your chin. Joel huffs out an exaggerated sigh, cocking a brow as he looks at you expectantly.

“Guess my parents, and my brother if he’s still here. And I would love to see Sarah as a teenager, she’s gonna be so fun.” A smirk coats your words, teasing laced in the words.

Large hands ghost over your bare sides, fingertips moving quick and featherlight in a tickle that draws a loud giggle out of you.

“Quit ticklin’ me!”

“I’ll quit when you stop lyin’ through your teeth.”

“Okay, okay! Ask again, I’ll be honest.” You catch your breath when his hands stop, arms wrapping around your back to pull you closer,  inches away from his chest.

“Okay, I know my kid’s the best, but she’s the only reason you’d stop by?”

“I’d come to see you in a heartbeat. Might even be the first stop on any visit I make, but I think you knew that this whole time.”

The shoulder raised toward the ceiling shrugs up and down, a quip of a smirk raising one side of his mouth.

“I had a feelin’, but I like hearing you say it.”

“Mm, anything else you like hearing me say?”

“Think you know the answer to that, darlin’.” A wink follows his answer, his elbow moving under him to prop him up as he leans over you moving onto your back.

“Yes, I do, sir.”

Joel looks away to the side, a chuckle exhaling shortly out of his mouth before he turns back to you and shakes his head.

“Mi diablita, eres demasiado (My little devil, you are too much).”

Joel’s hand lays on your thigh, thumb brushing back and forth while he steers his truck with the other hand. The cab is silent besides the soft trill of the radio and the wisping wind that whips in through the cracked windows as you head to pick up your car in the mall parking lot.

You can’t bring yourself to say anything, to recognize that you have to drive four miles away to go home when you live forty feet from Joel’s. Something swirls in your stomach, a similarly sinking feeling that guilt brings you but you don’t feel guilty about being with Joel. It’s not an ideal situation, and you would never want him to be subjected to neighborhood ostracization or gossip — but is avoiding that worth the dull burn you feel when you have to slink home after kissing him behind closed doors or staying the night? Not being able to go see him when you want to unless you sneak around to do it? Is it all worth it to him?

The pickup coming to a slow stop interrupts your spiraling thoughts, Joel’s hand patting your thigh to grab your attention. When you look over at him, brows creased with soft concern and brown eyes churning with sympathy. A tight smile presses your lips into a thin line, your hand laying over his.

“Before you go, um, I wanted to ask you somethin’,” his opposite hand stills on the steering wheel, curling his fingers around the frame tightly, “Sarah’s birthday party is coming up this Saturday. We’re havin’ it at the house, but I was wonderin’ if maybe you would come? Sarah told me about a million times that she wanted to invite you.”

Taut cheeks from your narrow smile relax, teeth showing when your top lip curls up. Your hand squeezes his under it, turning on the bench seat to face him more head-on.

“I’d love to come if Sarah wants me to,” his eyes dart to yours from their position looking out the windshield, eyes wide with hope, “But, do you want me to be invited? I mean, I know you said when you were planning the date that Tommy would be there and her friends’ parents — and her mom — so if it’s going to be too much, I can celebrate with Sarah bef—”

“My sweet girl, you’re fixin’ to work yourself up into a tizzy about nothin’,” Joel interrupts himself to lean over and catch your lips in a pacifying kiss, continuing when he pulls away, “I want you there. Probably will need you there, ‘cause I need help throwing the perfect “Little Mermaid, Lilo & Stitch, and Finding Nemo” party.”

A bellowing laugh rolls out of your chest, shaking your head as you reach out to pat his thigh, “Joel, honey, all of those movies are set in or around the ocean. Just make it sea-themed and Sarah will be extremely happy. I can help get things together this week.”

A long sigh exhales and deflates his chest, a sheepish grin on his face, “See? Need you there, sweetheart, ‘cause I clearly need the help.”

A few more kisses are exchanged, Joel escorting you the five feet over to your car and standing in the open door while you slide into the driver’s seat. His frame leans into your car, pressing his lips to your forehead.

“Really liked havin’ you at home this weekend, darlin’. And being able to take you out on a date.”

“Me too, Joel.”

The look on his face is unreadable before his smile replaces it, a metallic thump sounding above you as he hits his palm against the roof of your car.

“Drive safe, sweet girl.”

The sound of children’s screams and laughter slowly muffled as you slid the porch door shut and stepped into Joel’s kitchen. The last of the snacks you’d come early to put together need to be brought outside for the kids, and Tommy’s been out on cooler duty — keeping it stocked with drinks for the parents in attendance. Your parents were out of town dropping your brother off at his new apartment for his sophomore year, so it was only you, the Millers, and some kids and parents from Sarah’s class and camp.

Standing at the island, you pour some more tortilla chips from the bag to fill up the bowl in front of you more, getting lost in fluttering around the kitchen to get everything perfect before you bring it all out. You don’t notice the sound of the door to the garage shutting or Joel’s footsteps coming through the living room to the wide entry to the kitchen. What does pull your attention away from your task is his voice, a smile playing at his lips as he watches you.

“Think you know this kitchen better than I do at this point, sweetheart.” He crosses the room and comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist in the private moment. 

“I just know where all the stuff for the party was cause it was Sarah and I that went to the store to grab everything yesterday. And I put it away,” you shake your head with a grin, “You wanna grab some of this to bring it outside?”

His chin rests on your shoulder as he watches your hands move, his hands bunching up the fabric of your dress at your hips.

“Mhmm, can do, darlin’. In a minute.” He presses his lips to your exposed skin next to the strap of your dress, dropping the fabric from his hands and gripping you to turn you around to face him. A gentle kiss is placed on your lips, you pull away after a moment and him chasing you to pepper pecks on your lips and cheek. Your laugh pulls him away from your face, a boyish grin showing his dimple.

“Thank you for your help today, sweetheart. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. You made Sarah’s birthday real special.”

“You don’t have to thank me, I would have helped even if I didn’t get an invite,” Joel chuckles and squeezes your waist as you continue, “You’re the one who planned the day and invited everyone and got all the games and everything outside. You’re the hero of the birthday. And you’re a really good dad.”

Sincere gratitude fills his brown eyes as you get lost in them, a comfortable silence falling over the room as you take each other in. It’s only interrupted at the sound of the screen door, you flipping around quickly to busy yourself and cover up the intimate moment with Joel.

Tommy strides in, oblivious to how close you two are standing as he crosses over to the fridge to grab another six-pack of beer to put in the cooler outside.

“Either these parents are drinkin’ like fish, or we’re gonna have some drunk eight-year-olds on our hands.” Tommy turns to face Joel next to you when the sound of the doorbell echoes rings throughout the house. After the first ring, it keeps going incessantly and the two brothers share a knowing look.

Joel sighs, rolling his eyes and brushing his fingers against your lower back subtly when he moves to go answer the door.

“Y’all know who that is just from the bell?” you ask Tommy, a bracing expression on his face when he hears the door open.

“Yeah, it’s something that Ti—” he’s cut off when an unfamiliar voice speaks quickly at Joel in the other room, annoyance slick in her words. 

“Why’d you have to move across all of Austin, Joel? Makes the drive over here impossible. And made me late for my daughter’s birthday, so thanks for that.”

“Tiff, you’ve known my address since we moved and have known the time for the party for two weeks,” Joel’s voice gets louder as he follows Tiffany, Sarah’s mom, into the kitchen where you and Tommy are standing still. She looks over at Tommy, dropping her gift bag on the counter.

“Nice to see you, Tommy,” Tiff’s voice is laced with tension as she looks at the younger Miller.

“Always a pleasure, Tiff,” Tommy counters, a sarcastic smile on his face.

You’re watching it all from the far end of the kitchen, twiddling your thumbs out of nerves at the shift in energy. Tiff’s attention drags from Tommy, across the party food laid out on the island and up to you, her eyebrows raising.

“And you are?” 

Her head bobbles as she asks, Joel stepping forward and giving you a quick apologetic look before he makes introductions, giving Tiffany your name before saying, “She’s Sarah’s nanny for this summer. And our next-door neighbor. And this is Tiff — Tiffany — Sarah’s mom.”

He makes a vague gesture between you and her, his shoulders tense under his white t-shirt. He slips his hands in his back pockets, eyes avoiding you as Tiff locks hers on you like prey.

“Nanny, huh?” Her lips press together into a thin line, nodding slowly as she surveys you head to toe. Right before she speaks again, the door opens, and Sarah bounds in with her curls bouncing.

“Hi, Mommy!” She runs over and gives her mom a hug, pulling away and looking around with a big smile at all of the adults closest to her in a room altogether.

“Everyone come outside! I wanna show you my cartwheel, I think I got it perfect now!”

“Uncle Tommy’s gonna come out and watch you, and we’ll be out in a minute, Bug.” Joel smiles sweetly at her, his eyes turning to Tommy as he jerks his head outside.

Tommy puts a wide smile on his face, chasing Sarah back out the door to go play. Joel huffs out a sigh as Tiff fills the silence again.

“So, can we just address the fact that you two are definitely fucking?” She points between you two with a cold laugh and you try your hardest to keep a poker face.

Joel rolls his eyes, turning to face Tiffany head-on.

“Tiff, it’s Sarah’s birthday party. We’re not talkin’ about my personal life right now, and even if we were, there’d be nothin’ to talk about.”

“Oh, bullshit. But whatever, you keep your secrets to maintain the spark of sleeping with someone that much younger than you. And it isn’t personal if it’s someone who’s takin’ care of Sarah. That affects me, and her too. Better not be doin’ anything in front of Sarah.”

“Quit bein’ ugly, Tiff. I’d never do anything that would negatively affect Sarah and you know that. Now let’s just drop it, ‘cause there’s nothing even going on, and enjoy celebrating our daughter’s birthday.”

It’s like watching a tennis match, the two of them going back and forth across the room from you. You feel like slinking out of the door if you could without drawing attention to yourself, but you definitely can’t do that so you’re as still as a statute. The people-pleasing tendencies in you are screaming at you to say something to diffuse the tension.

“Joel’s right, there’s really nothing. He’s just my boss, and I wanted to come today 'cause Sarah invited me.”

Both of their heads snap to you in the corner of the kitchen, Joel’s stare softening as he sees the manifestation of your anxiety in the way your fingers can’t stop fiddling. Tiff scoffs and crosses her arms over her chest.

Joel speaks much more relaxed to you, “You do not have to defend yourself, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart? Well aren’t you just a precious thing, huh?” Tiff’s got a Cheshire smile on her face, shooting Joel a smug glare that makes your blood boil. She has the audacity to come over and blame all of her mistakes today on him, and to top it all off, accuse him of sleeping with you? And to call you ‘precious’? That’s a slap in the face in the South.

He is, obviously, but she absolutely doesn’t need to have the satisfaction of being right.

You watch her cross the room to head to the door to the backyard, sending a smirk to you. You muster one of your most polite smiles, catching her arm.

“Lovely to meet you, Tiffany, you’re so…self-willed. I can see where Sarah gets it,” you let go of her arm and hold your hand up to your chest to give her a “Bless your heart, hon.”

Which is Southern for “Fuck you.”

The door shuts hard behind her, shaking in its frame. You look at Joel, his hand pinching the bridge of his nose and eyes closed. You walk over to him and rest a hand on his shoulder. He jumps at your touch, his hand dropping from his face and his eyes opening to look at you to his right.

He immediately averts his gaze towards the floor, his downcast expression and furrowed brows telling you what he was going to say before he even speaks. You pull your hand away and swallow, giving him a tight smile.

“I’m gonna head home. I don’t want to be the subject of anything else between you two during Sarah’s birthday.”

“Darlin’, I’m sorry about all that. She’s quick to temper and insults. And with her talkin’ like that, I just don’t think we should—”

“I get it. There are a lot of people here, and she’s Sarah’s mom. Kinda pulls rank over her nanny,” you laugh to attempt to break the tension, biting harshly on the inside of your cheek, “I’ll see you Monday.”

“I really am sorry, sweetheart…Thank you for all your help,” he caresses your cheek, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Let me walk you out.”

You shake your head, patting his chest, “No, no you go spend time with Sarah. I’ll call you later to hear about her reaction to my gift.”

Joel nods back to you, watching you from the kitchen as you leave him with a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes, gathering the things you’d brought for party preparation and stepping out their front door. The echoes of giggles and screams carry all the way to your house, only stifled by the door closing behind you as tears sting your eyes.

The streaks on your face were long dried, your sundress exchanged for an oversized t-shirt and shorts to sleep in, and place taken laying out on the couch as your third episode of Friends reruns starts. You curl into the throw blanket laid over you, pulling it up to tuck it under your chin. Rachel and Ross are yelling back and forth about if they were on a break or not, the sound tinny from the loud volume you’re playing it at. The couple on the TV is drowned out by a loud and steady knock on your front door, your head snapping in the direction of the entryway. You slowly climb off of the couch, tiptoeing over to attempt to hide yourself from any possible danger. Looking through the peephole, you see Joel’s back, all wide shoulders and messy hair as he kicks his feet against the pavement of your porch.

There’s a tightening in your chest as you debate whether or not to open the door or let him think you’ve gone to sleep already, but it is only 9pm and he knows you can be a bit of a night owl.

The deadbolt clicks undone and you twist the knob, gingerly pulling the door toward you. Joel turns around at the noise, half of his mouth quirking up in a nervous, closed smile. There’s nothing said for a few beats, the two of you only staring at each other.

You break first, huffing out a quiet exhale and leaning against the doorframe.

“You need something, Joel?”

A flash of hurt travels through his eyes at your aloof tone, pressing his lips together before he speaks.

“Wanted to come by and bring you a slice of cake,” he admits sheepishly, holding up an ocean-themed paper plate with a piece of the funfetti cake you’d baked for the event on top of it.

You extend your hand out to take the treat from him with your eyes dropping from his to follow the movement. His fingers brushed yours and his other hand gently closed around your wrist to keep you there for a moment.

“Can I come in? And maybe we can talk, or just hang out, sweetheart?”

Your eyes flick back up at his face, brown eyes pleading with you.

“You don’t have to get back to Sarah?”

He shakes his head, “Her present from her Uncle Tommy was a ‘sleepover at his house with loads of candy and doing what your dad says you can’t do’. She took him up on that offer tonight.”

You can’t help the chuckle that slips from your mouth, a faint smile on your face as you nod.

“Can’t say I blame her,” you take a step back and jerk your head to the side to gesture inside, “C’mon in.”

Joel kicks off his shoes in the entry, following you back to the living room and taking a seat next to you on the couch. You curl your legs up underneath you and face him, leaning your side against the backrest after lowering the volume on the TV further.

“So, what’d you wanna talk about?”

Joel lets out a deep sigh, leaning back and swiping a hand over his face before he looks at you.

“Today. All of that shit. You leavin’ early wasn’t fair to you and I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for everything Tiff said, and you ending up being in the middle of us arguing like we always do.”

“Yeah, there was certainly a lot…passion there.” You bite your lip and he shoots you a warning stare.

“Easy there, darlin’. Ship’s long sailed there.”

You laugh and nod slowly, silence falling between the two of you again.

“I meant what I said. It wasn’t fair to ask you to leave early or imply that you should. I just, I didn’t want anything to kick up dust or have anybody pick up on…” he trails off, not wanting to say what he thought out loud.

“Yeah.” It comes out as more of a sigh than a word, turning towards the nearly mute show playing on the TV.

Joel shifts closer on the couch, one of his hands coming up to hold your jaw and turn your head back to him.

“I care about you — so much, sweetheart, I do. I need you to know that. I just, I don’t want you to get hurt from what everyone says or have this affect your family or somethin’.” His thumb brushes your cheek, eyes locked on yours.

“I get it, Joel. I do. It was just, I don’t know, it was just hard to see you so easily say I was nothing but Sarah’s nanny today. That’s what upset me the most, how smooth of a lie it was — if it was even a lie.”

He cringes at the last part, a sting to his heart as his eyes linger closed for a moment.

“It wasn’t a lie, my sweet girl. You’re—you’re mine. In every way you’ll let me have you. You’re not nothing to me. You’re, you’re something incredible.”

There’s a candor in his eyes and in his words that mollifies the heartache burning your throat and your chest, your body melting into his touch and falling closer to him, chasing the warm puffs of air that blow from his lips.

You kiss him, his plush bottom lip puzzling in between yours in a tender touch. Both of you are still there for a breath before you pull back just inches, eyes looking at his through your lashes.

“I want you to have me in every way. I want you to be mine.”

“I’m yours, darlin’. You tell me what you want, I’ll give you anything.”

He searches your expression, waiting with bated breath for you to respond.

Instead, you stand from the couch and smile softly as Joel’s clearly confused, his hand grabbing yours to tether himself to you. You squeeze his fingers, tugging on his arm to get him to stand.

“I told you, I want you to have me in every way. I want it to be you, the first time. All the time.”

Joel smiles tenderly, wrapping his arms around you to squeeze you against him.

“Lead the way, sweetheart.”

Ahead of him, you guide Joel up the stairs and to your bedroom. He shuts the door behind him despite it only being you two in the house, enclosing you in the bask of the warm, yellow lamplight from your nightstands.

Joel observes the space that he’d peaked into so many nights this summer, a smirk playing on his lips as he reminisces. Your touch pulls him back to you, his smirk turning into a grin as his eyes filled with affection. His fingertips graze your cheekbones, one holding your jaw as he murmurs to you.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. Que hermosa.”

His lips capture yours in a wistful caress, the exchange heating up as his hands move from your face to dance along your curves, giving soft squeezes to your supple skin. Little, faint sounds that you’re making encourage him further, his large frame walking you backward as he tugs your t-shirt over your head — discarding it to the floor haphazardly.

There’s nothing more covering your chest, and Joel eagerly arcs down, one arm around your waist as his mouth encapsulates one of the peaks of your breasts, sucking and prodding his tongue over the perked-up nub. His name comes from you breathlessly, his lips removing with a faint pop.

“Lay down on your bed, sweetheart. ‘M gonna take care of you,” he pulls his own shirt over his head, unbuttoning his jeans and pushing them off his legs before he moves to kneel on your bed in his boxer briefs. You do as he said, climbing onto your mattress and propping yourself against your pillows. Joel asks with a tug to remove your shorts, you give him a yes and lift your hips for him to pull off your shorts and panties, leaving you completely bare.

His hands skate back up your calves, hooking in the creases of your knees to spread your legs for him. They continue their journey up your thighs, one moving to skim over the softer skin at the inside near your throbbing core.

“Eres divina, mi dulzura. Una visión absoluta. (You are divine, my sweetness. An absolute vision).” His gaze pours over every inch of you, his touch exploring every spot his eyes linger. The attention he’s paying to you simmers inside of you, a quiet beg slipping out.

“Please, Joel…”

“What, baby? What can I do for you?”

His fingers are rubbing circles down your torso, stopping to brush against the curls at your mound while he waits for your command.

“Touch me please, like you did before.”

He hums contently at your request, licking his lips and swiping a finger through your arousal. His thumb presses languid circles on your clit. He bows his head down to yours, lips pressing against yours in unhurried kisses, swallowing the delicate whimpers that seep from your throat. Your sounds get louder and more persistent when he glides one of his fingers into you, a slow rhythm building before he adds a second.

“Taking it so well, darlin’. Feels good, yeah?” He speaks against your skin as his mouth dawdles along your neck to your collarbone, teeth grazing and lips sucking a mark onto your chest.

“Mhm fuck, Joel, I love your fingers inside me.”

“Gotta get you ready for me, sweet girl. Think you can take another?”

At your nod, he thrusts in a third, the stretch of his thick fingers reeling you to toe against the edge, your mind clear of anything other than the feeling of him filling you up. Your head pushes back into the pillows, his name repeated in a prayer each time he hooks against the spongy spot on your walls.

“Fuck, Joel, I’m gonna—”

“Come for me, my pretty girl. Show me how beautiful you look filled up with my fingers, squeezin’ around me,” his jaw dropping ajar to mirror your own as your release barrels into you, hands gripping Joel’s shoulders and digging you nails in. He works you through your euphoric descent, humid kisses pressed into your breasts.

Your fingers card through his hair, pulling his head up to yours and kissing him deeply. Joel hums a moan into your mouth, tongue melding with yours and grinding his tented boxers against your drenched heat, a dark wet spot forming on the light grey fabric. He pulls back, lips swollen red and puffy as he rasps out.

“Will you let me taste you, darlin’? Wanna feel you come on my mouth,” his nose nudges against yours as his words add to the humidity between the two of you, a whimper from you in protest.

“I want you inside me, please.”

“I will, sweet girl, promise. Gonna make it easier to take me. And I wanna have you on my lips for the rest of the night. Pretty please, sweetheart. I’m beggin’, even just a little taste.”

“Okay, okay,” you laugh lightly, “‘M all yours.”

“Debes ser de mis sueños, cariño (You must be from my dreams, darling.) Don’t know how I found you.” A path down to your thighs was carved by his mouth, kisses, bites, and licks left on your skin. Joel settles on his tummy between your legs, his arms hooking under your thighs to leverage your hips up to his mouth.

Joel purses his lips and exhales, sending cool air onto your wet folds. You hiss, one hand finding his hair as he chuckles darkly, his hooked nose nestling into the curls at the top of your center, inhaling deeply before his mouth finds your clit.

His tongue flicks your bud, flattening against it and moving in slow, teasing circles. He pulls his tongue back and puckers his lips around the button, sucking with a lewd noise as he takes some of your arousal in, exchanging for his own saliva.

“So sweet, pretty girl. Fuck, can’t get enough of you.”

The strong muscle of his mouth licks up from your tighter hole to your clit, a few figure eights flicked against it and driving your hips to jerk up involuntarily.

His thumb replaces his tongue, freeing it to dip down along your folds and lick into your tight cunt, a quick rhythm found that has you drenching his chin, high-pitched moans hyperventilating from your chest.

“Oh my god, Joel…”

A chuckle rumbles from him, vibrating against your skin and adding to his treatment of your cunt. Your fingers tug in his curls, eyes screwing shut tightly.

Right near the peak of your pleasure, he switches up his positioning and brings his lips back to nurse on your clit and two of his fingers replace his tongue inside of you.

The nearly pornographic noises he’s creating between your legs mix with your wanton moans, quick huffs of air giving you enough breath to shout his name as you come hard. Your hips push against his face to ride out the high, Joel moaning as you take control to fuck his face to keep it all going for yourself. Twinkles of light sparkle in your vision when you open your eyes again, colors kaleidoscoping at the edges of your gaze. You sit up to look down at Joel still on his stomach, a drunken smirk on his face when he looks up at you.

He groans as he lifts himself to rest his weight on his hands, climbing over you to bring his face even to yours. Your come glistens on his skin and coats his mustache and beard, a giggle slipping out as you shake your head.

“You’re a mess,” you say as you reach to wipe him clean, his head jerking back and eyes widening incredulously.

“Don’t get rid of it. Told you I wanna be tasting you for the rest of the night. You’re gonna taste yourself, too.” He smirks smugly, tracing the tip of his nose along the side of yours, his lips ghosting yours before catching you in a sloppy kiss.

“You taste good, don’t you think?” He winks as he studies you from above, a smirk still evident on his face. Your hand coasts down his soft torso, wrapping around his hard length after you slip your hand beyond the waistband, stroking him slowly as you watch his cockiness fall. His eyes flutter close, mouth ajar as tiny whimpers escape from his throat.

“I need your cock.”

With a shudder, he opens his eyes, the shade of them nearly black as his tongue sweeps across his bottom lip.

“Care to ask nicely, sweetheart?”

His low timbre sends a tingle that flutters your walls around nothing, huffing out before correcting your manners.

“May I please have your cock?”

Joel tsks from over you, his head slowly shaking left to right.

“Not quite. Again.”

“May I please have your cock, sir?”

He hums satisfied, kissing you tenderly and smirking against your lips.

“That’s my good girl,” another smack of your lips connects you two before he pulls away, looking at you adoringly, “You sure you wanna do this, my sweet girl?”

“Absolutely. Nobody else I’d want it with.”

“Ay Dios mío, ¿Cómo podría renunciar a ti? (Oh my god, how could I ever give you up?)” Disbelief floods his eyes, taking one last kiss from you, slow and sweet. Joel pushes himself up to stand on his knees, making quick work to strip himself of his boxers. Your mouth waters as you look at his cock sprung against his stomach, pre-cum dripping from his head and a twitch jerking it before his hand wraps around and gives it a few lazy strokes.

He spreads your legs wider, making sure the position is comfortable as his hips crowd against you.

“Alright, sweetheart, it might be a little uncomfortable at first, but the beginning's gonna be the worst part. Once you feel good about that, rest will make you feel even better.”

You nod in understanding, feeling heat prickling around your whole body as nerves bubble in your stomach. Joel smiles tenderly at you, guiding his hard cock to line up at your entrance.

“You ready, cariño?”

“Yes, ‘m ready. Please, Joel…”

He takes the moment of your relaxed exhale to push the tip of him inside your walls, the stretch of his girth burning you in a different way than his fingers. It’s not an overly painful burn, feeling like the stretch of a muscle. His hand finds your cheek, thumb brushing your skin and speaking quietly.

“You alright, darlin’? ‘M not hurtin’ you, right?”

Your head shakes quickly, breathing out a breath you were holding and feeling your body relax around him and adjusting with the lack of tension.

“Not hurtin’. Just feels…different.”

“Different’s alright, sweetheart. ‘S just something new.”

Joel’s chest is taut as he breathes through his own pleasure, willing his hips still until you give him the go ahead to push a few more inches of himself inside of you. You feel fuller than ever before, even without all of his length inside. He pulls his hips back slowly, the drag of him inside squeezing a moan from you. He starts at a slow pace with only a few inches of himself, encouraged to give you more with the louder, repeated sounds you're making under him.

“Fucking hell, pretty girl. So tight, god…”

“In a good way?”

“Yes, baby, course it’s good — everything about you is good, no, great. You’re makin’ me feel so unreal right now. You’re perfect.”

After a few more slow thrusts, he slips himself inside of you completely, his head rolling back with a moan of your name as you gasp loudly at the feeling of him against every part of your cunt. He loses his composure, lack of self-control seeping through as Joel starts to really fuck you, quick snaps of his hips burying him to the hilt.

Your eyes roll back at the feeling, mouth opening with silence choking any words from your mind. One of his hands grips your waist to hold you in place on the mattress as he drives into you, the other cupping your breast and squeezing while his index and thumb pinch your nipple.

The attention all over your body ripples pleasure throughout every one of your nerve endings, his name falling from your mouth over and over in breathy whines. He folds over you, lips finding the shell of your ear and whispering to you as he pushes you to toe the edge of Cloud Nine.

“Te adoro, hermosa. Cada toque tuyo se siente como la luz de una estrella tocando mi piel. Cada beso me respira nueva vida. (I adore you, beautiful. Every touch from you feels like the light from a star touching my skin. Every kiss breathes new life into me.)”

He doesn’t translate for you, leaving his words a mystery to your love-drunk brain. With his next thrust, he pushes you over that edge, a fall from the heavens as you plummet back down from euphoria into your body.

“Fuck, baby, you’re made for me. Gonna make me come, god damn.” His hips move back to leave you, your instant reaction to hook your legs around, digging your heels into the flesh of his ass to keep him inside.

“Please, please inside of me. I’m on the pill, take it religiously,” you whine out a beg, desperation slick in your tone. 

“Who am I to deny you, my sweet girl?” He shakes his head, hips thrusting into you a few more times before he spills his come, coating your walls and rolling his head back with a throaty groan. Both of you are still as you catch your breaths, his cock softening inside of you before he pulls it out slowly and lays next to you.

“You alright?”

A laugh first before answering, “‘M feelin’ amazing right now.”

Joel chuckles himself, a kiss to your cheek before he climbs out of your bed and traipses down the hall. You hear the swish of water from the tap turn on and off, bare footsteps slapping quietly against the wood floors as Jole comes back in through your doorway.

He cleans you up with a wet, warm cloth, exhaustion weighing your eyelids. Fluttering around your room, he moves smoothly as he gets the covers out from under you, tucking you in before discarding the cloth in your hamper and climbing under your comforter on the opposite side. He wraps you up as the little spoon, nose buried in your hair to smell your shampoo. 

Half awake, you reach to shut off your lamp. A confession floods your mind in the dark, faint voice whispering to him behind you, “I love you.”

It’s been a week.

A week since you revealed your heart and yourself fully to Joel.

A week of him not acknowledging either event.

A really weird fucking week.

Your return to school looms over your head, this lull coming at the most inopportune time.

Every day you see Joel, it’s awkward and disjointed in your embraces and kisses when Sarah’s off playing or he’s walking you to the door. Nothing feels as smooth as it was before last week, and there’s a nagging feeling in your chest that Joel taking your virginity ruined everything. That your friends were right, that guys never wanted to be that for someone because “women get too attached.” It sounded like bullshit to you before, and you don’t feel like you’re any more clingy than you’d acted before, the most attention you ask for is a kiss goodnight when you leave his house. He was always the one initiating more.

One night, you’d had a horrible thought that now he’s had you, he didn’t want any more. That it was about the chase, the finish line at the end of the summer that he’d crossed early.

But Joel wasn’t like that. He couldn’t be that type of guy.

He was a father. And a good one at that. An honest man. Someone who looks out for his family, even for strangers.

How could Joel become so lackadaisical with someone he said he cared about?

Today had been another stuttered dance of a goodbye, a chaste peck against your lips and a mumbled “see you tomorrow” before he sent you on your way, the door already closed when you glanced over your shoulder.

It had been eating away at you, carving out a part of your heart as you mulled over it all night. Your parents were asleep at this point, and looking out your window quickly, you saw his living room light still on.

You padded silently downstairs and slipped on shoes, quietly leaving out of your front door and crossing over to Joel’s porch. You knock instead of ringing the bell, not wanting to wake Sarah. The minute it takes Joel to answer the door feels like an hour, the courage you had about this confrontation fading with each passing second.

The entrance cracks open, half of Joel’s revealed as he takes you in. The rest of the door swings open, concern washing over his face with a furrowed brow and downturned mouth.

“It’s late, sweetheart. What are you doin’ out over here? Did something happen? Do you need help with something?”

With your arms crossed over your chest, you shake your head, glancing back at your house over your shoulder and debating if you should just forget this whole thing. Maybe he’s been having an off week — maybe it’s not worth bringing up if it could make things worse before you’re going to be three hours away at school for nine months.

The smallest part of you still urges you to push, to make him say what he’s feeling, even if it’s as simple as ‘I had a bad week at work’. If he can’t talk to you about what’s wrong now, what could happen if something starts bothering him when you’re going to have phone calls and limited visits?

It’s easier to justify a breakup when the person isn’t around for you. 

“Nothing’s happened, I—well, I wanted to come talk to you about this week. Just, things’ve been off. With us.”

Joel’s eyes hit the floor as you say that, his shoulders tensing along with the forearm that’s gripping the door. Anxiety pools in your stomach, the taut silence adding to your nerves. Is he angry?

“Think you should come in and sit down, sweetheart.”

That can’t be good.

You trail behind Joel after he shuts the door, following him into the living room and sitting at the end of the couch he gestures to. He sits near the middle, not quite the complete opposite end but not the spot he would have chosen before this week. Quickly grabbing the remote off the coffee table, he shuts off the TV and leaves the two of you in near darkness save for the soft light of the lamp behind you.

“Guess I should explain myself for this week.”

You can’t bear to look at him right now, your eyes turned down to your lap where you're picking at nails and a hangnail around your thumb.

“I’ve been thinkin’ a lot this week. About us. About the summer,” Joel sighs, his own eyes watching your nervous hands, “It has been a great summer. One of the best for me, I really do mean that. You’re so incredible, darlin’ b—”

“But what?”

Your gaze has risen to Joel, bile burning your throat when you see the look on his face — no hint of a smile when he said those words, no joy in his eyes. His mouth is in a downturned pout, his eyes rounded with sadness. The placement of his hands on his thighs is rigid, back straight as he cheats himself to face you more.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to keep goin’. For us to continue…this.”

Tears blur your vision until you blink them back, a few stray ones falling down your cheeks. You sniffle as Joel brings a hand up to wipe the drops from your cheeks — you let him, thinking it might be one of the last times, if not the last, he ever does anything soft like that for you.

“Why?”

Water wells the corners of your eyes again, lips pressed into a hard, flat line to hold in your sobs. Joel’s hand lingers against your skin, a flash of regret in his eyes that makes you think he’ll take it all back and you can forget about this ever happening.

But that look fades, replaced with the sadness from a minute before.

“You’re gonna be away at school, sweetheart. Three hours away. Busy as all get out for your last year. And I’m gonna be here. Bein’ a dad. And a mom too, most of the time. Plus with working full time on top of all that, I just, I couldn’t even promise a phone call to you, sweetheart.”

“But you could come visit on the weekends that Sarah’s at her mom’s…or-or I can come down. I would drive down every weekend to see you.”

“How'd you explain coming home every weekend to your parents? And you'd miss all the fun of your senior year for me? I couldn’t let you do that, darlin’. I wouldn’t want you to ever resent me for taking something like that away from you,” he shakes his head, definitiveness laced in his words, “I didn’t get to have all those experiences with Sarah being born, I didn’t even go to college. You have so much ahead of you, I don’t wanna hold you back.”

“How come you’re the one that gets to decide what I should do with my senior year? You’re not even giving me a choice. You’re not even giving me a chance if you do this, Joel.”

Tears fall freely at this point, not bothering to hold them in. Anger burns white hot in your chest, jaw clenched as you think about how he’s gone and decided what your life was going to be from now on.

“Sweetheart, you know it’s not like that—”

“It is. My whole life I’ve been making decisions to please people, if you can even call what I did making decisions. I listened to my parents, did the extracurriculars they told me to, never partied or got in trouble. I went to the college that they thought would be the best for me, even chose my fucking major — my career path — based on one thing my dad said to me years ago; he said ‘Y’know, you’ve got a smile that could sell ice to a penguin.’ I was twelve when he said that. And immediately I thought — if I could sell things like he said, he’d be proud of me, so I went into advertising,” you sit up on the couch further, shaking your head in disbelief, “I thought this summer was the first time I was choosing for myself. That nobody knew about how much I felt for you, that I was the one who was deciding that I wanted you. And when I decided that, when I told you I loved you, I wanted you to know that I was always gonna choose you. That this was the one path I could fully control.”

“Now I think I realize that I wouldn’t have done anything about it had you not kissed me first. I would have never made that decision without you deciding first. I’ve been following blindly my whole life. I wanted you to be the first thing I really chose. But I never really had a choice when it came to us. You were always gonna call the shots for what happened to us.”

“I didn’t go into all this knowing it was gonna come down to this at the end of the summer,” Joel’s voice is low and raspy, “I would never hurt you on purpose or string you along, sweetheart. I was in the moment with you. It was easy to forget about anything else when I was with you. You know I'm not going anywhere, I’ll always be here if you come back. But I think we both know you're destined for great things after you graduate.”

“I need you to do this for me, darlin’, please. Go have fun, be selfish this year. Spread your wings, mi mariposa. My butterfly.”

You stand from the couch, a sob escaping your lips as you turn to walk out the door. Joel follows you closely, grabbing your arm and turning you to face him.

“Joel, I don’t want to do this back and forth anymore. We’re done. It’s fine, it’s what you want and I am clearly not going to change your mind.”

“I just—I want you to know that I’m always going to care about you, sweetheart. I'll always be here for you.”

A sharp pain crackles in your chest as your heart crumbles, shards of it nestling to prick your lungs and steal the air from them, scrape against your ribs, spread everywhere in your body until it all hurts. Without another word, you take your arm from his grasp and leave out the front door. No looking back this time, no seeing if he’s watching you walk away from his life.

The trunk of your car slams shut with a push, all the belongings you’d brought home packed up again to make the drive back to school. You’re moving in earlier than you thought you would, heading back at the same time as your roommates instead of at the last second like every summer before. 

It’s been a dull last few weeks.

You didn’t have your job anymore to fill your days. Joel had messaged you that you were off the hook the morning after, and you spent the rest of the afternoon in quiet tears about not being able to say goodbye to say goodbye to Sarah. You had barely gotten glimpses of Joel, mostly seeing his truck parked in the driveway or coasting down the street in the mornings, but not much of him.

You’re not entirely sure if that’s helped or not.

But it doesn’t matter much now anyways, decisions were made and now you were finally leaving home.

On your driveway, your parents hugged you goodbye, your brother has already left for his school year to start baseball season training. With one last kiss on the cheek from your mom and a pat on the shoulder from your dad, you climbed in behind the wheel and backed out of the driveway. As you face towards the exit of your street, you take one look at the Miller house.

Joel’s standing on the porch with Sarah standing in front of him, a beaming smile on her face as she waves wildly at you. You roll your window down and wave back at her, laughing as she yells out a goodbye and good luck to you.

Flicking your eyes up to her dad standing behind her, hands on her shoulders and a closed, faint smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He lifts his hand in a short wave to you, and all you manage is a nod of acknowledgment back to him. You start driving away, watching both houses next to each other shrink in the rearview mirror. You blast the AC after rolling your window back up, turning on the radio to fill the silence and distract your mind.

The station host finishes up an ad read and immediately goes into the next song, trills of piano and slow, bright vocals.

American Pie.

taglist: @beskarandblasters @undrthelights @swiftispunk @joelsversion @clingontolife @elizabeth01585 @wandaandellie @asirenbyanyothername @ellenmunn @ja-ehyun @livinxdeadxgrl @sw33tp1xie @starsandsaints07 @marisemonteiroo @brunetteeras @whydontyoysaynodoja @beee-haw @shmaptainshmerica07 @jenna-mcgraw19 @whore-4-pedro @spursgirl14-blog @katifefe @joelmillerswifu @itsgiorgiaz @soph55 @grapejuicesny @wild-hearts-runfree @youcancallmeelle @lisa-ru @jupitren @ziggy-star @miaispunk @oneofutoo @starkovli @thatgeminigirlx @marchai @bunnyskisses @houseofballoonsth @casual-obsessions @pedro-pascal-lvr @bimbodolls-world @burningnerdchild @tuquoquebrute @mrsvedder12 @estelivi28 @helllsent @bongsrconfusing @addictedtotlou @brittmb115 @angie2274 @owod3 @pedrostories @pedroholicx @theelishad @johnwatsn @sunakochansama43 @elissaaa @felicityofbakerstreet @atinylittlepain

[myckicade]

Prompt: Ok so we all know Coco is touch starved, and would be clingy af in a relationship. What about Coco x wife!reader, while she’s trying to do basic errands/chores and Coco is her shadow?

A/N: I’ve been waiting for this one. I really have. Hee hee. I just adore Coco. <3 . This piece sort of follows the story of the last two Coco x Reader pieces I have written, but it will stand-alone, just fine. And, I swear, these things just have a mind of their own. I can continue to apologize for length, and content, but, in the end... I let the story tell itself. ;) . <3 .

As a warning, I come from Vermont, where we have a plastic bag ban. Last I knew, California was the first state to have one. I don’t know how that would translate to Santo Padre, but… When I mention fabric bags, I mean reusables, and the ban is why. ^^;;;;.

Title: Worthwhile

Teaser: He’s a little rough, your Coco, foul-mouthed, and quick to anger. Untrusting, and bitchier than a woman, on his best day. But, once you have his love, you have it. All of it.

“Okay…” you murmur, slowly, eyes scanning over the paper in front of you. Fifteen items, nothing crazy. Shouldn’t take you more than an hour, tops, and that includes travel to and from the store. “I think I’ve got everything we need… And, specials included your beer, and those little frozen cream puffs.”

Beside you, Coco groans, deep and guttural. “Fuck, I love those things.”

You giggle, but keep reading. Your man is too damn cute. “Feminine products.”

“Do those count as special?” Coco genuinely sounds thoughtful, as he steps up behind you, where you are leaning over the counter top. He wraps his arms around your waist, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “Kinda’ a necessity, ain’t they?”

Tipping your head, you glance to your husband. Seriously. This man is a treasure. “Why don’t you run for political office?” you tease, pleased when Coco chuckles.

“Yeah, my record’ll look great, on the campaign trail.”

You shrug. “You can tackle pink tax, and tax evasion, at the same time.”

Coco grins, and steals a peck off your lips. “What else you got on there, muñeca?”

“Hmmm, let’s see…” You turn back to your list, tapping the pen against your lips, thoughtfully. Spying the next item on it, you try not to let out another giggle. He’s not going to like this one. “Letty asked if we could have that cauliflower pizza thing for dinner, tonight.”

As expected, this groan is decidedly not from food lust. “Fuckin’ vegetarians. When the hell is she gonna’ get over this shit?”

“It’s just a phase, Coco,” you remind him, for the… Well, honestly, you’ve lost track. It started shortly after the wedding, Letty’s change in diet, and you’re still not convinced the two aren’t related. You’re just not entirely sure how. But, two months in, and she’s still looking healthy, so you won’t send up any alarms. “It’s very popular at her high school, right now.”

Coco scoffs, disgusted. “When the hell’d she start copyin’ other people, anyway? My girl ain’t no follower.”

The words send a shot straight to your heart. He’s a little rough, your Coco, foul-mouthed, and quick to anger. Untrusting, and bitchier than a woman, on his best day. But, once you have his love, you have it. All of it. The love he has for Leticia is the greatest proof. They may carry on like cats and dogs, but when push comes to shove, there is nothing they won’t do for one another. My girl. It brings a warmth to your soul, and a smile to your lips.

You shake it off, enough to formulate a response. “She’s figuring out how to be her own woman. Trying new things.” You shrug, not wanting to make a big deal of it. You were Letty’s age, once, of course. And, a girl, to boot. Some things, Coco just won’t be able to understand. “It’s a process.” He hums, still disgruntled, but doesn’t push out another word. “You want anything else?” you ask, holding up your list. “I’ve gotta’ get going, before I run into the football widows.”

Before you can even take a step away, Coco tightens his arms around you. “You sure you gotta’ go, though?” he asks, leaning in to brush his lips against your neck. “With the house all to ourselves, like this?”

“If I don’t go,” you start, as Coco’s touches gain intent, becoming teasing kisses. Damn him. It feels nice, you won’t lie, but there are other things on your mind, right now. Priorities.

You’re just… having trouble remembering what they are.

Oh. Yeah. Shopping.

“If I don’t go, we won’t have anything for dinner.”

Another kiss, accompanied by a barely-there swipe of tongue. You shiver, and Coco moves his lips to your ear. “We can order in,” he whispers, breath so invitingly warm against your skin.

Oh, this asshole.

“And, what are we supposed to have for breakfast, tomorrow?” you try, again. “Half an Eggo, and a pack of Skittles?”

Coco cuddles you closer, again. “Ain’t you never heard about livin’ on love, baby?” Some of his smoothest work, that is. And, it’s almost convincing. Almost. You can imagine the afternoon ahead, if you give in. Your clothes will come off, and won’t be back on until the last second, before Letty walks back through the front door. By that time, you’ll be too tired to roll your ass off the bed, let alone go grocery shopping. And, you promised Letty you’d talk Coco into that cauliflower pizza.

“Great as that sounds,” you agree, preparing to capitalize on the truth. You ease yourself away from Coco’s stubborn hold, and give him one more smooch, just to soften the blow to come. “I don’t think Letty will appreciate the sentiment.”

A third groan. You must be going for a record. “C’mon, (y/n).” Oh, he’s whining. It’s so cute, it’s unreal. “We’ll find some place that delivers that rabbit food shit.”

Unfortunately for Coco, you’re already grabbing your bag. Lucky for you. You’re still two seconds from giving him what he wants. (He just doesn’t need to know so). “I’ll be back in a while.” God willing. “If you think of anything else, call my cell.” You rush out the front door, and don’t look back. If you see the look on your husband’s face, you know you’re as good as done.

*

Well, what the shit? Coco stares at the front door as it closes, you on the wrong fucking side of it. His arms are at his sides, palms turned toward the ceiling. That went so well. He kind of can’t believe you just walked away, like that. Left him alone, and wanting. In your big, empty house.

He probably should have volunteered to tag along, instead of just chasing you off.

Fuck.

Glancing around, Coco tries to find something to do. Something to clean, at the very least. But, that’s the trouble with having moved in with you, after the wedding, he supposes. Ain’t nothing to tidy up. Not that the three of you don’t have possessions. They’re all just in their proper places. Probably Leticia’s doing, in the end. He’d had a long talk with her, before the move, that she absolutely has to keep her shit where it belongs. Your house isn’t like their house. There aren’t burn marks in the carpet, or gouges in the coffee table. Dishes go in the damned dishwasher, not left to pile up on the counter, or in the sink. Beds get made. Laundry gets folded, and put away. No more wrinkled heaps in the clothes basket. So far, the kid’s been doing good. Real good.

Coco, though? He’s never felt so unnerved in his life.

It was different when he just visited. Spent a night or two, here or there. He’d almost felt at home, then, stupid as it sounds. At home, with the knowledge he wasn’t staying. But, now? Now, the reality has settled in, and he feels so-so… out of place. There’s so much he’s struggling to adjust to.

You have a purified water system installed under the sink, where Coco is used to buying bottled water.

You have a dining room, where Coco and Letty are used to eating on the couch.

You have an extended cable package, whatever the fuck that is.

You kind of have it all, here, certainly by comparison to what Coco is used to. The best of everything. Which really makes him wonder – not for the first time – what the hell you’re doing with a dirt-poor biker for a husband? You’ve had this conversation, on multiple occasions, and you’ve explained yourself, every time. But, this time… This time, you’re not around to give that speech. You’re not around to hold him, and kiss his face, and reassure him in a way that only you can. No, you’re at the grocery store, shopping for Coco, and his kid, which was apparently a better offer than staying home with him.

Oh, nope. Nope, he’s doing it, again. He can feel it. You love him, he reminds himself. You’ve got his ring on your finger, his last name, and – God-willing – his baby in your belly. By choice. All by choice.

Coco takes a deep breath, in. Lets it back out, slowly. Tries not to get sick, for all the nerves coming up to greet him. He wraps one arm around his own torso, free hand moving up to cover his mouth.

Fuck, he hopes you get back, soon.

*

You let out a deep sigh, as you park your car in the garage. Oh, it is so good to be home, at long-last. Talk about Old Home Week. You’d run into everyone, and his brother, at the grocery store. Shopping had taken nearly twice as long as you’d meant for it to, and you just know Coco must be losing his mind, by now. You hate to think about it, in such terms, but, sometimes… Well, sometimes, Coco reminds you of a new puppy. You can’t really leave him alone, without some kind of separation anxiety creeping up on him.

Ah, well. At least he isn’t ripping down the drapes, and shredding the couch cushions.

You blink. Well. That you know of.

Shaking your head, you climb out of the car, mentally preparing to unload armloads of bags. Maybe, if you really, really try, today will be the day you can finally get all twenty bags in, in one trip.

Right. And, shortly thereafter, you can have both forearms set, and casted. Be a real turn-on, in the bedroom.

You’ve managed to grab half a dozen bags, when the door to the mud room opens. “Hey, don’t grab too many!” Letty warns, as she comes hopping down the steps. “Let us help!”

Glancing up, you smile. For having had such a rough start, Letty can be a sweet girl. You know she gets that from her father. “Well, thank you,” you reply, resting a few, fabric handles onto her outstretched hands.

Letty grins, lowering her hands to her sides, before leaning in. “Did you talk him into it?” she whispers, conspiratorially.

You snicker, and whisper back, “He isn’t getting a choice. He’s outnumbered.”

“Yes!” Her hiss of victory is hardly subtle, catching Coco’s attention as he pokes his head out the door.

“You two plottin’ against me, again?”

“Yes,” you and Letty reply, in unison, leading you to erupt into a fit of giggles.

Coco is all grins. “’Course, you are.” He strides closer, he and Letty dancing around one another as she moves into the house. You lean into the car, and retrieve a few more bags. If Coco’s out here, he might as well assist. He’s peering into the car, once you stand back up, and lets out a low whistle. “Damn, (y/n)! You buy out the whole store, or what?”

“Hardly,” you reply, dryly. You hold up your hands, offering Coco the bags. “Here you go.”

“Oh, don’t mind if I do.” Thankfully, your hold on the bags is solid. Instead of grabbing the groceries, Coco’s hands are suddenly groping all over you. One hand is settled firmly at your ass, the other sliding into your hair, at the back of your head. He wastes no time diving in for a slow, deep kiss, and, damn, does his timing suck. He could have at least let you put the bags down, first. The contact makes you tingle, and has you regretting your decision not to stay home. Coco pulls back, after a few seconds, and hums. “Mm. Best delivery ever.”

You can’t help the small snort of amused laughter that leaves your throat. “Good try, Coco,” you praise, easing back far enough to offer him the bags, again. The look of disappointment on his face is just pitiful. “I’m not banging you in the garage.”

He has the grace to mock gasp. “I’d never!” It’s a crock, and you both know it. He looks too amused to be repentant, and you look too aware to be angry. You just raise your hands, slightly, in a third offer. Coco sighs. “All right. All right.” He takes the bags from your hands.

“Thank you.” You grab another load for yourself, rounding the open car door to follow Coco’s lead, into the house. One more trip for each of you, and you should have it covered. So much for only buying fifteen items.

Coco might be right about buying out the store.

*

Watching from the dining room, Coco has a good view of you and Letty unpacking the last of the groceries. Damn kid, she’d thrown him out, about ten minutes prior.

“Less groping, more helping, Coco,” Letty had warned him, after he’d tried to pin you against the sink.

It had been his last warning. Now, he’s been banished. Not the worst thing in the world, not really. Over the last few weeks, he’s really learned that there are some tasks he’s not so fond of. Pruning roses… Yeah, he’s pretty sure you’ll never let him do that, again. And, hey, nobody told him what to fill the bird feeder with. Unpacking groceries goes on that list, somewhere between line-drying laundry, and a streak-free mirror. He’s not sure why. Goodness knows, it makes him feel like a kid at Christmas, most times. Since being with you, though…

Since being with you, he feels like he’s taking advantage of something.

Yes, groceries are a strange place to let that feeling land, but he can’t help it. Coco’s been responsible for feeding himself since before he cares to remember. The only time anyone provided his meals was during deployment, and half that shit barely passed for edible. You, though… You keep the house stocked with more food than he’s seen anywhere, outside of a corner market. Letty always has options to take to school, and there’s a nutritious dinner on the table, almost every night. (Some nights, he actually does win the battle for delivery). If Coco goes on a run, you send him along with snacks for the road. And, yeah, he kinda’ likes that. He also likes the energy bars you picked out for him, last week. Something with cherries, and dark chocolate. He wonders, for a second, if you picked up any more. Come in handy during his mid-week trip outta’ town.

Coco blinks. Then, he does it again, just for good measure. That’s it. That’s what’s so fucking weird about this whole thing.

It’s you.

Okay, no, it’s not you, you. But, it’s you. It’s you, taking care of him. It’s you, seeing to his needs. Letty’s needs. It’s you, being his wife, his partner. It’s you, slotting into the place of role-model for his teenaged daughter. Welcoming them into your home. Not treating it like it’s your home. It’s you, being so fucking perfect for him, it’s taken his mind all this time to catch up with reality.

Coco doesn’t get perfect. Perfect doesn’t want him.

Except, now, it does.

Before he knows what he’s doing, Coco strides into the kitchen. He doesn’t wait for you to put the box of pasta in the cupboard. He just takes it from your hand, ignoring your confused look, as he tosses it onto the counter.

“Coco!” Letty admonishes, but it’s no use. He’s already lifting you off the floor, arms around your perfect backside. The kid gives a long-suffering sigh, he hears it, but pays it no mind.

Nothing – nothing – is going to keep him from holding you in his arms.

Your own arms go around Coco’s neck, and you smile down at him, surprise still lingering in your eyes. “Uhm… Hi, there.”

Coco grins. “Hey, muñeca.” Leaning up, he pecks you on the lips.

“Can I help you with something?” you ask, to which Coco shakes his head. Closes his eyes, as your fingers play in his hair.

“Nah. Got all I need.”

*

Pulling a package of mixed vegetables from the half-unpacked shopping bag, Letty rolls her eyes. You two… God, you’re gross. Coco always has his hands on you, no matter what you’re trying to do. It’s a wonder you don’t carry a damned fly swatter around. Actually, it’s a wonder you ever accomplish anything. He’s always smooching, and smiling, and snuggling at you. It’s disgusting. It’s pathetic.

It’s so damned cute, it’s sickening.

Really, Letty’s enjoying seeing Coco so happy. Like, genuinely happy. Not the false pride he carries around with his kutte. He’s more relaxed, nowadays. He drinks less, and he spends more time at home, both of which mean he’s not hanging around with those skanks at the clubhouse. He eats more, he’s healthier… Nothing to complain about, there.

And, hey, she has no complaints about you, either. You’re pretty cool, all-around. A woman who takes care of herself, and her family, and doesn’t bitch about either one. You’re not using Coco for money, or status, none of the shit she’s always been worried her father would fall into. There aren’t arguments, every night, not even between herself and Coco, as of late. No hostilities, nothing to avoid the house over. Just good dinners, and movies, and a new fish tank in her room. (Okay, so, you’d earned some major points with that birthday gift. She hadn’t actually expected to get one, when she’d mentioned it). For the first time, she understands what a peaceful, happy family feels like. It feels nice. It feels like home.

Glancing back to where Coco now has you perched on the counter top, stealing the most syrupy-sweet smooches… Letty can’t help but smile. Home is A-okay by her.

*

The sound of the air conditioner humming in the bedroom usually lulls you right to sleep. Tonight, it’s just providing you with white noise, a low background track to your thoughts. You don’t mind, not really. It gives you a few minutes to reflect on the day that’s just ended. To plan your day, tomorrow. To weave your fingers through Coco’s hair, and listen to him breathe. That, alone, makes it worthwhile.

Coco has been asleep against your shoulder for nearly an hour, now. Your arms are wrapped around him, comfortably, his own around your waist. You’d urged him up to bed, after he’d fallen asleep on the couch, his head in your lap. He’d snoozed from the middle of the movie, to the end of the nightly news report. Letty had tsked, and complained that no one had any business, whatsoever, in falling asleep during Zombieland. (How he’d stayed asleep was still a wonder to you, both, for how hard you’d been laughing at Tallahassee). With your fingers in his hair, Coco had been blissfully unaware for a couple of hours.

Glancing down, you take in the sight of your husband’s sleeping face. He looks so damn peaceful, the kind you’d outright murder to preserve for him. Coco’s still struggling with sleep, and relaxation, even though you’d hoped it would ease up, once your nuptials had passed. Most of it, you know will never go away. Anxiety doesn’t have a magic wand, or some perfect little on/off switch. And, all things considered, today wasn’t a terrible day. You’d been able to leave the house, with minimal panic on Coco’s part. Granted, it had taken extra time to get the groceries put away, and dinner made, but… You understand, as much as you are able to, that Coco needs the reassurances. It doesn’t cost you anything to carve a few moments from the day, every here and there, to give him what he needs.

Okay, so it did cost you that first batch of pancakes, this morning. They’d burned on the stove, and set off the smoke alarms, when he’d insisted on a dance through the living room. But, Coco loved the song you’d been playing on your Spotify, so there was really no denying him.

Oh, and… Yeah, you’d missed that phone call from the bank, the week before. Your husband had slipped up next to you, on the porch swing, and snuggled you to within an inch of your life. An easy fix, and you still got the business loan, but…

And, sure, you’ve been late to work, on numerous occasions. Coco has a habit of sneaking into your morning shower. And, after that… Well, hell, you own the company. It’s not like you have to explain to the boss that you’re late to your shift, on account of baby-dancing. (Fucking forums).

Point is, you’re more than happy to take care of Coco’s emotional needs. It may take you an extra hour to pay your bills. Daily tidying may have become every-other-day-if-you’re-lucky tidying. And, your ass may have gone numb, tonight, while he slept on your thigh. During which time, you could have loaded the dishwasher. Taken out the trash. Any number of tasks that have been neglected, in the name of Coco. They can wait.

Leaning in, you press a tender kiss to your husband’s forehead, before settling back in, and closing your eyes. Yes, chores can wait. Work can wait. The whole world can hold it, with both hands. So long as you’re around, Coco’s well-being will never have to take the back seat.

*

P.S. If Coco denies it, he’s full of it. He fucking loved that cauliflower pizza. Fucking vegetarians, indeed.

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[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Hayloft p.4

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: Your dad brings home his new coworker, Arvin Russell, telling you that he’ll be living with the two of you for a while. While attempting to keep Arvin from seeing the disfunction of your relationship with your father, the two of you grow closer than you thought. (Inspired by “Hayloft” by Mother Mother, though that’ll really only be one chapter later on so I don’t know if it really counts…)

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, death, abuse, and sexual assault (depictions of none, though), alcoholism/ drunkenness, mentions of teen pregnancy, mentions of infidelity, murder

Word Count: 6.4k

A/N: Pretty lightly edited, just a warning

Read the Previous Chapters!

Part 1  Part 2 Part 3

“Hey, hun, what can I getcha?” You leaned into your popped hip, pen and notepad in hand.

A man you hadn’t met before, clearly someone just passing through town, was sitting across the diner bar in a light blue button-up and suspenders. He was fairly clean cut save for the day-old scruff across his face. He studied the menu intensely before setting it down and looking up at you with a sweet-as-pie smile. “Can I please have coffee with some cream and the grits?” He asked with a southern drawl.

You scribbled down his order on the notepad, “That all?”

“Mhm, I think so. Thanks doll.” He slid the menu towards you before reaching for a newspaper that had been left on the counter beside him by the last patron. You turned around to pin the man’s order on the little turnstile for the chef when the little bell on the door rang.

Tucking your notepad back into the apron tied around your waist, you grabbed the pot of coffee from the counter and poured the man a cup of the rich black liquid. Next, you prepared a little ceramic cup of cream and walked back to set them on the counter in front of him. His polite thanks were only the background when you saw Arvin walk behind the man and shoot you a smile before settling down in a seat at the bar only a few seats away.

You walked over to him and leaned on the counter with a smile, “Well, hey there stranger. You on lunch already?”

Arvin nodded, looking to you hopefully, “Yeah ‘n I was hopin’ you might be too so I could grab a bite to eat with my favorite girl.”

“Shh!” You hushed him with exasperated wide eyes, like it should have been obvious that he needed to keep his voice down, because in your mind it was. You nodded your head to the other patrons in the diner. “Y’know word travels fast in little towns like this ‘n I don’t need my daddy findin’ out ‘bout us,” you whispered to Arvin who sighed in annoyed understanding. You knew he wasn’t annoyed at you but the situation was less than ideal.

He tapped his fingers on the counter and his knees bounced under the bar, “So is that a no for lunch?”

You glanced over your shoulder to look at the clock that hung on the wall. It was only eleven in the morning but maybe you could ask Charlene if she could cover so you could take an early lunch. “Let me double check real quick.” You held up a finger to excuse yourself into the back to find your coworker.

No more than ten minutes later, you and Arvin walked out to his car with two take-out boxes of burgers you had managed to swipe from the kitchen in hand. He slid into the driver’s seat while you planted yourself beside him in the passenger’s. You handed him one of the boxes of food before opening your own and

digging into the small handful of fries. “So how is your day going so far?”

Arvin took a large bite of his burger, covering his mouth with his hand has he tried to speak and chew at the same time, “Ain’t too bad. I got an engine to rebuild for an old Ford when I get back but nothin’ too terrible. How ‘bout you?”

“Ready to go home already,” you chuckled, popping a fry in your mouth, “But it ain’t too bad here either. Just would like to not be here.”

Arvin laughed a little beside you, “I know how that feels. Thanks for the burgers by the way. I appreciate it. I don’t want you gettin’ in no trouble for stealin’ food.”

You shrugged off his concern, “Don’t worry ‘bout it. If people don’t eat it, it just goes in the trash anyways. I ain’t gonna get in any trouble.”

He let out a heavy breath, resigning to your insistence, which he really just found an adorable confident stubbornness. A comfortable silence fell over the unmoving car as the two of you ate your lunches in the parking lot. When you finished chewing your bite, you looked over at Arvin, “How long you been livin’ with us?”

Arvin looked up at the brick wall straight ahead in thought, “Maybe five months now. Longer than I meant to-"

"I didn't mean it like that! I was just wonderin'...." you got awkwardly quiet for a moment, "Havin' you 'round has been the best five months in a really really long time."

"For me too. When I came into town, I thought I'd be livin' in my car. Didn't know how lucky I'd be gettin' to live with the most beautiful girl in the world." His hand reached over to your thigh, squeezing lightly.

Even after all of his sweet affections and compliments, they never failed to make your cheeks ache from trying not to blush and smile like a schoolgirl. “You really think flattery will get you somewhere?” you giggled teasingly, turning towards him and nudging his leg with your hand.

“Well it got me in your house so…” He teased back, something that he had been doing more often in the last few weeks. Arvin had never been the most humorous of people, aside from the occasional chuckle or hidden smile. That had been changing since the two of you had gotten closer though.

“Uh, no! It might get you kicked outta my house though if my daddy ever finds out.” It started as chuckle but the words faded into concerned worry as you realized how true they could really be.

Arvin sensed the shift, “You really think your daddy would kick me out if he found out ‘bout us?”

You nodded, “Without a doubt. Would probably throw me out too.” You shifted so you were sitting on your bent leg, suddenly uncomfortable.

He began cautiously, “I mean… would that really be such a bad thing?”

You whipped your head to look at him, “I ain’t got nowhere else to live right now. I been savin’ up for a year to move out but it ain’t enough to buy a place of my own yet.”

“How much you got?”

That number was in your head immediately, one that you kept a running total of with every paycheck. “$4,317.” It wasn’t enough, though, and you knew it. Even the old run down houses around town cost $12,000, which meant you weren’t even halfway to the fixer-uppers, not that you minded buying a fixer upper. “I don’t need a mansion or nothin’ but it ain’t nearly enough for even something small.”

Arvin chewed his lip, thinking about the box of cash he’d been stashing away with each of his paychecks as well. He knew exactly what it was like in your position, struggling to save up the money to get on your own feet. He hated relying on others and, even though he really liked you, he hated depending on your and your father for shelter. “You ain’t gonna be stuck in this ol’ town forever,” he promised you and it came out just like that. A promise. “You’re too good for this place.”

Another smile forced its way onto your face at his words of hope, “I’ll get outta here eventually…”

Suddenly, a familiar male voice yelled your name and you flinched. You turned towards the voice to see your boss, Harold, standing at the backdoor of the diner with his hands on his hips. He gave you a stern look and tapped the watch on his wrist before pointing at you then jabbing his thumb over his shoulder towards the door.

“Shit! I totally lost track of time!” You scrambled to gather up the trash from lunch and stuffed it into the paper bag you’d brought it out in. “I’m sorry, I have to run!”

Arvin had nearly jumped out of his skin when your name had been yelled, the only person he’d ever heard calling you that way being your father. He crumbled up the paper wrapper for his burger and stuffed it in the paper bag for you. “‘M sorry. Didn’t mean to get you in trouble with your boss.”

“Nah, he’s fine,” you waved off the worry dismissively, “He acts all tough but he ain’t nothin’ but a softy.” You opened up the door and began to slide out when you stopped and took a quick glance around. Nobody was in the parking lot, or really anywhere in sight for that matter. In an impulsive swift action, you grabbed Arvin by the collar of his greasy shirt and pulled his lips to yours quickly before pushing him before anyone could see.

He looked stunned, big brown eyes wide and shocked by your courageous kiss. Your heart raced and your cheeks flushed with the exhilaration of actually sneaking a kiss to Arvin in public. It was a dangerous move but your dad was at work and there was nobody else around to see. You tried to hide your excited smile by chewing your bottom lip but it didn’t work. “Thanks for lunch, Arv.”

“Uh - y-yeah. Thank you for the burger.” Arvin stumbled over his words while you slid out of the car and closed the door behind you, leaving the poor boy struggling to make his brain catch up to reality.

“See you at home!” You waved one last time before turning. Arvin watched as you jogged back to the entrance of the diner, your little dress bouncing with every movement. You turned to give him one last glance before you disappeared behind the door.

Work had passed rather uneventfully for you. You put in the last few hours of your shift, went to the grocery store, and then headed home to start on dinner.

Arvin, on the other hand, the rest of his day at work had shaken the good feeling he’d had since his lunch break with you. He had found himself with a wrench in hand, trying to bolt back in the engine he’d been rebuilding for the last few hours. Grease smeared across his shirt, pants, and face despite how hard he tried to keep his dirty hands from ruining his clothes. Even if they were work clothes, he didn’t have that many sets of outfits nor the money to go out and buy more.

“My cousin lives o’er there with his wife. Said the sheriff up and disappeared for a while but they found him dead in the woods.”

Arvin’s head nearly hit the hood of the car that was propped up when he heard those words. He looked over his shoulder to see Davis and Fred, two of the other guys that worked at the mechanics shop, talking over two cans of beer.

“You hear anythin’ ‘bout that, Arvin?” Davis asked, sipping his can.

Arvin’s heart twisted in panic but he shook his head like hadn’t heard what they were talking about, “Hear ‘bout what?”

“Few months back, the sheriff in my cousin’s hometown turned up dead. Someone shot ‘im in the woods outside o’ some small town nearby. His name was like Lodeck or Bodecker or somethin’ like that.” Davis explained the story to both of the guys.

“Eh, pro’lly had it comin’,” Your dad came entered from the storage room with a handful of bolts, “I know I’ve met some sheriffs that deserved a bullet between the eyes.”

Fred rolled his eyes, “Yeah well you’re an angry drunk so I’m sure you’d say that ‘bout anyone who took a drink from you. I’m sure this guy wasn’t that bad. What kinda sick fuck you gotta be to shoot a sheriff? This ain’t no wild west movie where you go gunnin’ down the law.”

“Nah, I heard he was a no good son o’ a bitch. Guess his sister and her husband got murdered the day before. Found tons of pictures o’ them kissin’ on some dead guys. Some real sick shit, Fred. Sheriff might have been in on it too. Regardless, my cousin said he ran into ‘im one time with his wife and the sheriff really was a bastard,'' Davis shrugged off Fred’s comment, refuting the tragedy Fred was trying to make Bodecker’s death by tarnishing his name.

Arvin’s heart was racing and he began to feel dizzy. The images of those few days had haunted him since they had happened but he had found himself thinking about it less and less as the days passed.

“Arvin?”

Arvin shook his head out of the clouds and snapped back into reality, “What?”

“You came into town ‘round the same time all this happened. Did you hear anythin’ about it?” Fred questioned, wiping his greasy hands on his jeans.

The young man just shook his head, “Nah, I ain’t heard nothin’ ‘bout it till now. I heard ‘bout the sister though. Sounds like she and her boyfriend were no good.”

“You know what I think?” Your dad began, picking up a wrench and pointing it in Arvin’s direction, “I think our man Arvin here did the sheriff in!”

Arvin stiffened up, “What? Why would you think that?”

“You come strollin’ along through town with nothin’ but a backpack and no backstory ‘bout the same time four people turn up murdered. Mighty suspicious.” Arvin tried his hardest to stand tall and not allow his fear to show but the tension in his jaw was bordering of painful now.

Davis swatted at your dad, “C’mon, leave the boy alone. There’s gotta be thousands of people in that area that coulda murdered them. Can’t imagine Arvin doin’ such a thing.”

Arvin was grateful for Davis’s trust. If only he deserved it.

“I’m only jokin’! Y’all a bunch of whiny little girls, can’t take a fuckin’ joke.” Your dad grumbled to himself, swatting his hand towards his coworkers.

“Ah, shut up.” Fred stood up from the table he’d been sitting at and laid back down on the dolley before sliding under the jacked up Chevy he had been tasked with. “Ain’t nobody ‘round here takes you seriously.”

Arvin watched as your dad walked past Fred, kicking him in the leg and earning a loud exclamation of annoyance, but it was as if he were disconnected from the whole scene. He had tried so hard to forget what had happened back in Knockemstiff and Coal Creek, though it seemed damn near impossible considering it had uprooted his entire life. This tiny town a few hours away was his safe haven, his new beginning. He never would have imagined that anyone this far away would have heard about the murders.

Hearing Davis and Fred bring up Bodecker’s name made Arvin’s blood turn to ice in his veins. What kinda sick fuck you gotta be to shoot a sheriff? Fred’s words played over and over in Arvin’s head. This was just what he was worried about. This was why he ran. Nobody would believe Bodecker was trying to kill him first. Self defense didn’t mean shit when it was against the law. The same with Reverend Teagarden. A man of the word? Arvin didn’t stand a chance if anyone found out what he’d done.

“Hey son,” Davis’s soft voice made Arvin nearly jump out of his skin, “Don’t take nothin’ that ol’ man says to heart. I’m sure you know since you been livin’ with him that he’s just a cranky ol’ drunk who don’t know when to shut up. You’re a good kid, Arvin. Ain’t none of us actually think you did it.”

Arvin looked down at where Davis’s hand rested on his shoulder, the same way his dad used to touch his shoulder when he was reassuring him. He forced a small appreciative nod and a strained appearance of being unbothered, “It’s alright, Davis. I know he’s just kiddin’ ‘round. I ‘ppreciate it though.”

_

Your father arrived at home before Arvin, much to your dismay. Elvis Presley’s Blue Hawaii album was spinning on the record player when he came into the kitchen, kicking his boots off by the door.

“Hey, daddy! How was work?” You asked, mashing a bowl of potatoes for dinner.

He made a line directly to the fridge, grabbing a beer and popping the tab off with no effort, “It was alright. Damn Gilligan blew out the transmission on his truck so I been stuck fixin’ that up all day. Lookin’ forward to this right here.” Your father lifted up the beer bottle and sipped it with satisfaction. Yeah, I’m sure you were, you thought, rolling your eyes with your back turned to your dad.

“Well, if you wanna get cleaned up, dinner should be ready in about twenty minutes. More than enough time for a shower,” you offered with a cheerful voice. Lunch with Arvin today had made your day good in a way that was hard to ruin.

“Yeah, I might go do that. What’s for dinner?” Your father walked over and peeked over your shoulder to see what you had cooking on the stove.

“Mashed potatoes, green beans, and chicken.” You cut in a few slices of butter and added them to the bowl of mashed potatoes, sprinkling some salt, pepper, and garlic powder to taste.

Expecting some words of discouragement like you usually earned from your father, he just nodded contently and disappeared out of the kitchen towards the bathroom. You turned to watch him walk away, your mouth fallen open in pleased surprise at the fact that you just had a semi-pleasant interaction with your father for the first time in several weeks. You turned back to mixing in the now melted butter into the mashed potatoes when the front door opened yet again.

You looked back to see Arvin walking in through the living room, “Hey, Arv!”

His hands were shoved deep in his pockets and judging by the way his eyes shot up to you, as if he hadn’t expected your greeting, he had been staring at the ground when he walked in. “Hi,” he answered low and short with no emotion one way or the other.

Your brows furrowed, “Everythin’ alright?” Leaving the food on the counter and wiping your hands on your apron, you walked out into the living room towards him.

Arvin visibly took a step back and his eyes widened a little, his shoulders squaring up, “Yeah, ‘m good. Just wanna take a shower.”

Before you could get the words out, he had already begun walking away. “My dad’s already in the bathroom,” you called out after him, finally getting him to stop.

Arvin didn’t turn back to you though, only half glanced over his shoulder, “Oh, alright.” He turned back to continue his walk back to his room.

“Dinner will be ready soon!” You attempted to add, only earning a small thanks in response and the sound of Arvin’s door closing. “O-oh… okay.” You stood alone in the living room, the sound of running water coming from the bathroom and Elvis Presley’s voice filling the room but not loud enough to drown out your concern.

Dinner went by just as uncomfortably. You poked at your mashed potatoes, keeping your gaze stuck down at the food on your plate except for when you glanced over at Arvin who seemed to be actively looking anywhere except for you. This only made you roll your eyes out of frustration and stare back down at your food.

Your dad talked about his day, mostly grumbled complaints, “I don’t get nearly ‘nough respect ‘round here. Damn Fred and Davis callin’ me a drunk. What? A man can’t enjoy a damn beer without being called a drunk! Damn prudes.” When you didn’t respond, he reached over and tapped your arm, “Hey? You even listenin’?”

“Hm?” You tried to make yourself focus on what he was saying this time, “Sorry, long day. What happened?”

“See? I ain’t get no respect at work and I can’t even get no respect at my own damn house from my own damn daughter!” He grumbled, the feet of the wooden chair scraping against the ground as he stood up forcefully, swaying a little side to side but bracing himself on the wall to walk out of the room.

You didn’t even possess the mental capacity to care about his little tantrum. Your mind was swimming with confusion and, honestly, anger, at Arvin’s little unexplained silent treatment. “Okay, what’s wrong?” You asked, leaning towards Arvin.

“Nothin’.” He answered simply, taking a sip of his water. His voice was low and he still refused to make eye contact, despite nothin’ being wrong.

“That’s a lie. Everythin’ was fine this mornin’ and now you’re suddenly not talkin’ to me. Won’t even look at me! What the hell, Arvin? Did I say somethin’ wrong?” Thinking back, there wasn’t anything you had said earlier that you could imagine warranting such a negative response from Arvin so your confusion and concern had quickly turned to frustration.

Arvin shook his head, “No, no, you ain’t did nothin’ wrong.”

“Then what is it?” You practically begged him to tell you. You hated being upset at him when clearly something was bothering him but this felt like he was just playing some broody guessing game with you, something you got enough of from your dad.

Stress shone through Arvin’s eyes and he met your gaze finally, if only for a second, before looking away again. You could see there was a flicker of something you hadn’t seen in him before but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Whatever it was, it was really bothering him and you felt guilty for being upset. You just couldn’t understand why you suddenly were being ignored for something that apparently had nothing to do with you.

“I can’t tell you.”

Arvin’s admittal just made you more upset. “So you’re not mad at me but you’re ignoring me and can’t tell me why?”

Arvin hadn’t seen you look at him this way. At your father, yes, but he was unaccustomed to that raised eyebrow and frustratedly desperate crack in your voice being directed towards him. He hated it. He hated knowing that he was causing you to feel upset and helpless when he was supposed to be your escape from those exact feelings.

But he couldn’t bring himself to tell you the truth. You’d think he was a monster. You’d hate him. He’d lose the one good thing he had in his life because-

Arvin shook his head, “‘M sorry.” He looked anywhere but at you because he couldn’t stand to see the way your face fell, though he could practically feel your heart fall from across the table. He didn’t need to see it. He knew.

“Fine.” You stood up and grabbed your plate, scraping the rest in the garbage and setting the plate in the sink. Your appetite was gone and your patience had snapped, not that you had been the most patient thus far anyways.

Arvin watched as you stormed out of the kitchen, grabbed your coat off the coat rack by the front door, and walked out of the house. His head hit his hands. No matter how hard he tried to protect those he cared about, he only seemed to hurt them more.

-

You hadn’t expected Arvin to find you here so when the door opened to the old barn, you turned around in surprise. You were curled up in your coat, sitting on an old wooden crate that had been untouched in this unused barn for God knows how long. A large window looked out over the large field that had once been the family farm but was now practically a glorified dirt lot. Your coat was wrapped tightly around your body, held in place with one hand while you held a lit cigarette with the other.

“Didn’t know you smoked,” Arvin took a few steps in, his hands shoved guiltily in the pocket of his denim jacket.

You blew out a large plume of smoke that you had been holding in and looked away, “I don’t too often.”

Arvin closed the barn door behind him as he approached you and you had to fight the urge to get up and leave but you knew that made you no less immature than the way you felt he was acting.

“‘M sorry. I really am.”

You took another drag and turned to him, the moonlight illuminating his features - somehow so boy-like but so rugged - and it was hard to stay mad at him. “I am too. I don’t mean to be dramatic but I just… I don’t understand, Arv. If somethin’s wrong, you can tell me. This whole silent treatment BS with zero explanation doesn’t cut it.”

Arvin let out a heavy breath. While doing the dishes from dinner for you after you stormed off, he had had time to contemplate what to do. And he had decided. “If I tell you, it’s gonna change how you look at me.”

Your head tilted up at his cryptic opener but you said nothing, only urged him to continue with your eyes.

With a deep shaky inhale, he started his story, “I ain’t a bad man but I’ve done some bad things. Things that I thought I could run away from. I been livin’ a lie for a long time, actin’ like I ain’t hurt nobody, but it ain’t true.” Arvin paused for a moment to gauge your reaction and all he saw was fear in your eyes, just as he had feared.

A million thoughts of terrible things people were capable of ran through your head as you tried to figure out which one Arvin could possibly be guilty of, though they all felt so out of character for him. Was it murder? Assault? Rape? Thievery? The man you had come to care for so deeply now swam in a murky pool of doubt and distrust. Arvin saw all this and more in your deep, worried eyes.

“What did you do?” Your voice was weaker than you wanted it to be, cracking with fear. Until today, you hadn’t imagined Arvin capable of doing anything that could real harm to anyone, maybe aside from a stupid fight in high school or something along those lines, but you could see it in his eyes that whatever it was he was trying to confess to really was that bad.

Arvin lost his ability to speak for a moment. He had resolved to tell you everything before even coming out here to talk to you but the fear shining in your eyes already had his heart breaking. It was as if every new line of moonlight reflecting off the growing whites of your eyes was a new stain that he managed to tarnish your view of him with. Arvin had to look away because he couldn’t bear to look at you when he finally admitted his crimes, couldn’t stand to watch your face contort in fear when you realized what a monster he was.

“Y-you remember that preacher I told you ‘bout? The one that hurt my sister?”

You nodded, “Y-yeah…”

Arvin swallowed hard and he gripped his thigh tight enough to turn his knuckles white. “Well few weeks after we buried Lenora, a police officer came up ‘n told me the coroner had found out she was havin’ a baby. None of us knew before. I don’t know how but I just knew it was that no good preacher. I didn’t have any proof though so I started followin’ ‘im ‘n found out he was worse than I thought. He was no good to his wife ‘n I saw him out takin' advantage of another girl in town who was even younger than my Lenora was. He was doin’ nothin’ but hurtin’ people ‘n I… I killed im.”

Your mouth fell open, “You- You killed him?”

Arvin looked down at his feet, “I shot him.”

It was silent as you processed the information. This preacher sounded like a terrible man, abusing young girls and leading one to commit suicide. The infidelity to his wife was a moot point against his other indiscretions and even that was unacceptable. It honestly sounded like Arvin had done a service to the world, taking this monster out of it, but it was still difficult to look at him the same after knowing that he had actually shot someone.

When you didn’t respond, Arvin had decided to continue, not thinking he could cause much more damage, “I ran. Left a note for my grandma and uncle and disappeared. I tried hitchhiking my way out of town when I got picked by this couple. They seemed nice ‘nough at first but the husband, he started actin’ real weird. They pulled us way off the road. Said he wanted to take some pictures but then I saw him pull out a gun and then he tried pullin’ me outta the car. I-I panicked and I kicked the door into him ‘n I shot ‘im before he could get me.”

Arvin’s voice was cracking as tears began to fall down his face. It was one thing to replay the memories in his own head but it was another thing entirely to actually confess his sins to someone he cared so deeply about, knowing the truth would most likely hurt you. “The wife, she pulled out a gun and pointed it at me ‘n I pointed mine at her. I begged her to put the gun down. I-I didn’t wanna shoot her. I really didn’t. I was so tired of killin’ but then she apologized ‘n I knew she was gonna pull the trigger. We both shot at the same time. I got no clue how she didn’t shoot me. I fell out the car without a scratch but I when I got up, I realized I got her through the neck 'n she was gone. I panicked ‘n searched the car. Found all these pictures of her all naked and huggin’ up on some naked dead guy ‘n I knew… I knew I was gonna be next.”

Your brain sprinted a mile a minute to try and keep up with the trauma Arvin was confessing and you didn’t know whether to hug him and let him cry on you or run as far away as possible.

“Then-”

“There’s more?” You wanted to beg him to stop talking, to stop telling you about the blood on his hands, to stop telling you about all the suffering he had been through. You sounded shocked and heartbroken and yet none of these tragedies were yours.

Arvin hiccuped and sniffled in a failed attempt to hide a sob. Red had taken over his features, both physically and metaphorically. Obviously distraught by his past and now your reaction, he felt like he was beginning to spiral down that hole of darkness that he had tried so hard to claw his way out of. There were nothing but snakes down there, ready to bite him and poison his mind with the words he had fought so desperately to keep out. Murderer. Stalker. Liar. Sinner. All of these and so many more.

Yet, he nodded, feeling as if he’d still be lying if he didn’t finish telling you everything. When he nodded, you made a small squeak of disbelief.

“I-I ran,” He sniffled out, “I hitchhiked my way back to my old hometown. I didn’t know why at first but I just needed to go home. Felt like maybe I could fix what had been broken there. Went there to find it all burnt down but then this sheriff came lookin’ after me. Turns out he was that lady’s brother - the one who shot at me and had the pictures of the cut up dead guys. He was all angry and wanted to kill me for shootin’ his sister. I tried… I tried to tell ‘im that she was no good and that she was gonna kill me but he didn’t wanna listen. He was shootin’ at me and… and… I ain’t had no choice.”

It was silent, aside from the ambient bugs chirping outside. You had tried so hard to focus on Arvin’s face but you had long since zoned out visually, only able to focus on the words he was saying. How could he have gone through all of this? How could your wonderful, amazing, beautiful Arvin Russell have survived so much suffering and been forced to murder people? Murder.

“Please say somethin’.”

Your lips quivered as your vision came back into view and all you saw was a tearful, fearful, remorseful boy before you on the brink of falling apart. Arvin’s hair was messy from having run his hands through it, his eyes were red and puffy from the tears, his breathing was shaky from remembering. There were no words.

You threw your arms around his neck and held him tightly to you. You didn’t know what else to do. How does someone respond to information like this? There was so much trust that Arvin needed to put in you to tell you - you couldn’t freak out.

“You don’t hate me?” His hands flew to your arms, prying them off his neck so he could see your face.

Your head shook, “How could I hate you for what you did?”

“I murdered four people.”

“You took out a disgusting predator who practically killed your sister and was harming who knows how many other girls. Then you killed a couple of murderers who pulled guns on you first in self defense. And then, yet again, you were put in a life or death situation with a sheriff who was shootin’ at you for killin’ his murderin’ sister. Three of those were self defense and I’d dare say that first one was a public service. You have nothin’ to be sorry for. You have nothin’ to regret. You did what you had to do to survive.” You squeezed Arvin’s hands tightly, running your soft thumbs over the lightly calloused skin of his knuckles.

Arvin looked down at your hands on his, hands that were so much smaller than his own but right now felt so encompassing and comforting, as if they wrapped his own in a blanket of protection. He couldn’t believe you were okay with this. He was barely okay with it. “I don’t regret it but I didn’t wanna have to do it. If I coulda let that lady go, if she only woulda listened to me ‘n put the gun down I wouldn’t o’ had to pull the trigger. I coulda let the cops deal with it. Same with the sheriff. If only he woulda listened… I only wanted to shoot the preacher. I was okay with havin’ that on my conscience. But I had no idea how outta control that day was gonna get. All those cold dead eyes starin’ up at you, watchin’ the life drain from someone’s face ‘n knowin’ you’re the one who caused that... Even if they were real fucked up people, it ain’t a sight that’s easy to see.”

“I can’t even imagine what it must’ve been like, Arvin.” Your hand slid up his arm to rest on his bicep and you leaned your forehead onto his shoulder. His arm snaked around your body and held you close but cautious, like he was scared if he held you too tightly that you’d be scared he’d hurt you too. Of course, you weren’t. The thought did cross your mind that perhaps it was unwise to trust a man who just admitted to killing four people but that wasn’t Arvin and you knew it. “You may have killed people but that does not make you a killer. You’re just someone who was put in some really hard situations and had to make some tough choices.”

You pulled back and put your hand on his cheek, slightly scratchy from not shaving that day, and you spoke gently, “You are wonderful, Arvin. You are caring and hard working and loyal and willing to stand up for what is right. You are everything good in this world-”

“I hurt people-”

“You protect people,” you corrected, “‘N if some bad people had to get hurt to keep the good ones safe, well maybe they shouldn’t have been such bad people.”

Arvin could have melted into a puddle at your feet, and likely would have if you hadn’t been holding him. Never had he expected to tell anyone his terrible deeds and in every imagined scenario in which he did, it had never ended well. He had imagined you running for the hills, screaming at him to get out, maybe even threatening him physically out of fear that he’d hurt you now (which he’d never dream of doing).

But you didn’t do any of that. Gentleness and understanding were far from the reaction he’d expected or even felt like he deserved but nevertheless here you were holding him and reassuring him that he wasn’t the monster he’d called himself for so many months.

“I love you.”

His admission surprised you but Arvin felt fully confident in his words. He had never known what love felt like - romantic love at least - but this was damn near the closest thing he could imagine to it. You occupied his thoughts every waking moment, your face and your voice swimming around his imagination in a beautiful ocean of warmth and kindness and goodness that he would gladly drown in. You were strong and responsible and understanding and oh so beautiful. Much like him, you’d been handed a shit hand by life and struggled each day to make the best of it. Arvin cared about you so much it scared him because he had not felt this compulsion towards anyone since Lenora had passed. After losing everything he’d ever loved, he was scared that if he admitted that he loved you, life would take you away from him as well. If there was one thing that you did, though, it was take away Arvin’s fear.

“I love you too, Arvin.” He pulled your body flush against his when you responded, a heavy sigh of relief leaving his chest. Much like Arvin, you hadn’t known what real love felt like. You’d even started believing that maybe you weren’t meant for such a luxury.

Now you and Arvin felt like the richest people in the world, despite having almost nothing to your names. As long as you were in each others’ arms, you had everything. You were each others’ trust, honesty, comfort, compassion, and protection.

_______

Taglist:

@peterswebshooters

@thisisparadisemylove

@justapurrcat

@tomsirishgirlx

@peterswebshooters

@femmme-xxx-fatale

@kittyformannn

@aidinniram

@minejungwoo

@mathletemadison

[theodorevg923]

What Is That Blob?

Yep, still can't figure Freddy out. So here ya go! The Blob time.

PLATONIC ONLY cause yea no, ain't romanticizing

Still working on the Girls an Sun is just, too much for me handle so he's gonna be a bit too.

Granted I've only written about the blob once and it was to dispose of some prey, but I still like this strange creature. It's unknown an fascinating.

⚠️ 18+ for blood warning and more

Master List!

The Blob x GN Reader (Platonic/Gore)

For clarity I make ADULT oriented FNAF content. My animatronics have much dirtier minds but only around people of age. And never publicly/in front of kids. (Other than Monty slapping assets.)

Platonic:

We all know the blob, broken parts, endo skeletons, previous animatronics, don't know about trapped souls though (Yet.)

If ya HAD to give it a sexuality, it would be ace, plain an simple

First time ya find the blob deep in the under plex, it's scared of ya. Hasn't seen a human in years.

If ya notice him, it'll stay still, watching ya

As long as ya don't disturb or harm it, it'll leave ya alone (at first)

Come back down and it'll be a bit more curious

Patience and gifts are key

After a few visits, and gifts, it'll approach but keep it's distance

Talk quietly or it'll spook, but ya voice entrances it

After ya finally make a connection, it'll finally get close to ya

It's scared of harming ya so it won't touch until ya initiate first

But after the first time, oof "handsy" all over ya, snuggles, hugs, ya name it (Make sure ya guys got a system for when it's too much or hurts)

It'll start giving ya gifts back, little pieces of itself or pieces from the old pizzeria if there's anything left

Prefers the silence when ya not around, but when ya with it, it'll listen to ya voice or sometimes music on low until it can adjust

It doesn't understand all ya words, but tries to follow along cause it makes ya happy

It can get very jealous cause it's stuck in the under basement (As far as ya know.)

If ya come in sick, it won't know what to do other than snuggle ya, it doesn't have any medical training

But if ya come crying n sobbing, it'll try to comfort ya by snuggling ya

If ya fall asleep while snuggled, it will not move at all till ya wake up

(More to come.)

(Under the cut isn't working, sorry for the length)

NSFW/GORE:

The blob is old and rusted, so don't be shocked by a few cuts or bruises

It doesn't mean to hurt ya, and after it notices the first time, it'll hide in anguish until ya reaffirm ya fine

It doesn't know it's own strength or how to gentle with humans, so broken bones are possible

Oh hell, it broke a bone? It will FLIP THE FUCK OUT cause ya screaming, what voice boxes it has are screeching, ya crying, sobbing mess an ya stuck down below without help

If ya can get out, ya live

But if ya stuck, it won't know what to do, it's afraid to touch ya until ya begging for help then it might help ya

After ya heal, it'll hide until ya sit down an stay still, then it'll finally come out after an hour or so cause it's worried (Singing might help ya, especially older love/soft songs.)

It knows it did something wrong so ya have to initiate contact again

Though if ya have someone messing with ya in a assault/sexual assault way an ya talk to em, it'll get pissed (Though it won't fully comprehend why.)

Don't ever expect to see that person again (An ya will never see the aftermath.)

I mean, ya could, but should ya? It's not a soft squishy tentacle monster, ya know. (Yea don't try to hide it, I know what all y'all simps thinking.)

If ya ever see bones in it's mass, don't question it, it can't help itself, but it will NOT devour ya

Though if ya do ended up dead, one way or another, only then will it consume ya body and then sulk for years to come

If ya ever disappear while away from it, poor thing will be heart broken, waiting for ya to come back (Though it won't know what it's feeling an that just makes it all the worse.)

(More to come.)

----

Again these are my HCs and The Blob really needed some lovin's

Stay Cruel Till The End! - Theodore

Posted Mar 5 '22

[illyaana]

Cursive Ink - Yamaguchi Tadashi

Collab: Pain Tolerance by @haikyutiehoe

Thanks for making this collab, hun! the idea of pierced and/or tatted anime characters got me squealing~! Do check out the other works involved in the collab in the link up there~

Tags: Yamaguchi's POV, Angst, Fluff, Yamaguchi x Tattoo Artist! Reader, Binaural

Synopsis: Love never really goes the way we plan it to be - and Yamaguchi was no exception. His failed confession to his former best friend left him heartbroken. However, his decision to go to a tattoo parlour may have been the best (and craziest) choice he's ever made in his life. (I also believe Yamaguchi is pansexual, so don't get so confused XD)

Word Count: 2552

A bit of context: In Japanese, 'Yama' means mountain, 'Tsuki' means the Moon

⋯⋯ ⫍ Masterlist ◍ Navigation ⫎ ⋯⋯

Want to get a personalized drabble about your love life with an anime character you like? Check out my 50 followers event's post here! You can choose any character from BNHA, Haikyu!!, AOT, JJK and Kuroko no Basketball <3

“Yamaguchi, no,” Tsukishima said, pulling his hand away from my hand.

“Why are you lying to yourself? I know you feel the same way, Tsuki - don’t lie to yourself.”

“I don’t, Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima said, eyes turning cold, “I am not gay - I am a straight, heterosexual male. I love women and women only.”

Lies.

You are lying to me.

You are in love with me.

You are already mine, Tsuki - just wake up and see it.

I know you can.

what was that kiss under the tree when we were kids?” I whispered, not wanting my voice to break, “If you never loved me, why kiss me, Tsuki?”

“We both agreed that it was a mistake, didn’t we?” The blonde male said, anger rising, “We both agreed - not just me.”

I said yes - I know I did.

That doesn’t mean I meant it.

You know me, Tsuki - I’ll agree to everything you’ll say.

Why aren’t you realising it?

I’ve waited for so many years for you to ask me out, but you never did.

I’m here, right in front of you, asking you to be mine - just say yes.

I don’t want to wait anymore - it’s too painful.

“I lied, okay?!” I scream, “I loved you ever since we were kids, Tsuki. I want to be the one you come back to when you leave, the only one you kiss, the only one you hug, the only one you dream about - I want to be that to you. Is that so hard to believe?!”

I hugged myself, not wanting to break down anymore.

That small hug was the only thing stopping me from letting all hell break loose.

I had kept this in ever since I knew Tsuki - ever since he saw him in that park.

I knew everything about the tall male. The way he smiles, the way he hides his anger when he wants to be respectful, his secret love for dinosaurs, his soft side, his small quirks - I knew it all like the back of his hand.

I knew what he needed to be the middle blocker’s lover, and I was willing to sacrifice myself to be the best thing for Tsuki.

One thing was clear in my head; Tsuki felt the exact same way.

“Yamaguchi, I’m sorry. I don’t love you the way you want me to,” Tsukishima said, kneeling beside the green-haired male.

“I don’t believe that.”

I forced his lips on Tsukishima’s.

I closed my eyes, trying to memorise how the lines of his soft and pale lips felt on his - how it softly caressed my lips without even responding to the intimate kiss I was trying to initiate.

I felt Tsukishima trying to push me away, but I didn’t let go of the male’s collar.

He already took my first kiss - what is the difference if I took another?

The second our lips left each other’s, Tsukishima punched my nose.

Blood dripped from my nose, but I couldn’t care less.

“Don’t you fucking call me Tsuki ever again, dumbass. Better yet, don’t call me.”

My last day of high school ended with blood and tears, but the pain in my heart from losing my best friend hurt more.

⁜

⁜

⁜

I stared at the stars, lying down in the little treehouse we made as kids in my backyard.

I tried to cry it all out, but I couldn’t.

I feel cheated by you, Tsukishima Kei.

You made me make you my everything.

My voice was tuned to calm you down.

My hands we moulded to keep you warm.

My life was made to keep you safe, but you don’t need me to be you.

But I do - I need you to be me.

One-sided crushes are the worst form of love, aren’t they?

You give it all for that one person - to please and cherish them.

They just think it’s just a form of showing how strong your friendship is, but you want more.

You are the only one who wants more.

You are the one crying at night about how you wished they were by your side.

You are the one craving for their touch.

You want them, but they don’t want you.

I don’t care about you bruising my face, Tsukishima-san.

I care about you fucking me up like this.

I will no longer wait for your messages.

I will no longer look at your tweets and be the only one giving reactions.

I will erase you from my narrative, Tsukishima-san.

You can wonder about how much you’ve hurt me when I have reached somewhere you can’t even touch me.

⁜

⁜

⁜

“You are absolutely sure about this, right?” Hinata said, worry laced in his words.

I open the doors to the tattoo parlour and I was instantly mesmerized. The walls were filled with such intricate designs - sizes ranging from as small as a finger to as big as my whole body. The smell of fresh ink slowly hit me, reminding me of my schooling years.

“I am sure, Hinata. I was planning to do this ever since I was small, either way. I just wished it was under better circumstances,” I reply, eyes locked on all the flower motifs.

I always wanted a tattoo - it didn’t matter how big or small it was. I always thought of how beautiful the idea was - to have something permanently inked on your skin to remind you of who you were. Flowers drew with such hidden meaning, curved lines speaking words of poetry, ideas brought into life - tattoos are an artist’s masterpiece meant to paint on my skin as a canvas.

“Do you want me to stay? I don’t mind waiting here with you - “

“Weren’t you supposed to meet up with Kageyama later today?” I remind him, chuckling.

“That man is late for everything. I think he can handle me coming late for once.”

“I’m seriously okay, Hinata! Go get ready, I’ll send a picture when it’s done,” I say as I push him out of the shop.

“Okay, okay - make sure to send me that picture!” He said as he ran out of the shop.

Why follow me if you’re itching to leave?

“That friend of yours has really bright orange hair - is it dyed or natural?” I hear someone say.

Holy shit, you’re hot.

“Oh - uh- um- It’s natural,” I say, forming some space between us.

Holy shit, you’re hot.

You tied half of your hair in a small bun, showing me the small, intricate designs on your neck. Flowers decorated your soft skin, moving down under your shirt’s sleeve. Small golden piercings decorated your ears. They were encrusted with gems of various colours that shifted under the soft lighting gracing your skin.

You looked so beautiful I couldn’t stop staring.

“So, do you have an appointment?” You asked, breaking my train of thought.

“N- no.”

Stop stuttering, Yamaguchi Tadashi.

“First time, huh?” you smiled, “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. The pain is different for everyone, but I think you can handle it.”

“T-Thanks.”

God, stop stuttering.

“God, you’re cute,” you laughed while looking at my frazzled face, “Don’t worry, my dearest client - you’re in capable hands. Come - let’s discuss your design, shall we?”

You grabbed my wrist and brought me to your corner, leaving me blushed mess.

Cute.

They called me cute.

I’m breathing, right?

Okay, I’m breathing.

As we were walking, I got to see the back of your neck - more specifically, a part of your tattoo.

It was a blossoming rose - a huge one. It had vines that grew from it, encircling your whole neck, moving down your shirt and reaching the tips of your fingers. Smaller roses grew from it, branching even smaller vines surrounded by leaves.

I wanted to know the story behind that tattoo. It looked so beautiful yet so dark. The thorns that came from certain vines alarmed me, but I kept my thoughts to myself. My attention was brought to your piercings - more specifically, the design of the encrusted jewels. They were flowers, as well. In the middle of each jewel held a line of gold that branched out, just like the vines of your tattoo.

“Oh, you’re looking at my tattoo and piercings, aren’t you?” You ask, eyebrow raised.

“Is it okay if I am?” I ask, worried.

You laughed.

“Of course it’s fine. Who would get a tattoo and not prepare for all the staring? Not going to lie, here - these piercings and that tattoo help me fuel my ego. After all, everyone’s staring at them,” you joke, playing with your hair.

You sit on your chair, pointing at the one opposite you.

“What are you waiting for? Sit.”

⁜

⁜

⁜

“So, you want some small vines surrounding a moon, right?” You ask as you brought out your tablet.

“Yeah, on my middle finger.”

I had enough of his little orders - I’ll twist his words into something much more meaningful. If the Moon isn’t willing to dance with the mountains, let the vines make the Moon feel the mountain’s pain from its rejection.

“That sounds really pretty,” you say, smiling at me, “Give me a minute - I’ll do a rough sketch and you can tell me if it’s to your liking.”

You took out the tablet’s pen tool and began to sketch. I eyed your eyes as you continued to sketch what would be my tattoo.

Thanks to the light from the tablet, I could see a part of another tattoo hidden under your shirt.

It was multiple birds flying across your collarbones, but there was one bird that moved to your neck. It was a smaller bird - much, much smaller. However, its wings were bigger - bigger than the other birds’.

“My family isn’t very appreciative of my more artistic side,” you began, knowing I wanted to know the story behind it.

“I love art - all types of art. Writing, drawing, painting - I loved how you could make a whole new world just with a few lines. My family…” you paused, “As much as they loved me, they couldn’t see a world where I could make a living from it. They tried to throw away this side of me, but the more they pushed it away, the more I needed it.”

You raised your tablet, showing me your sketch.

I loved it.

It was a crescent moon, wrapped in vines. Vines grew both upwards and below, accompanied by stars. Small buds were growing from the ends of the vines, leaves surrounding them.

I don’t know how you did it, but you captured all I felt about him in a few minutes - it astounded me.

“I took a few creative liberties, but-”

“It’s amazing - don’t change it.”

You’re amazing.

You smiled, getting off your chair.

“Head to that room,” you pointed to the smaller room right beside us, “I’ll get all the tools ready.”

⁜

⁜

⁜

“You ready?” you said, placing the pen right above my middle finger.

Why did I choose my middle finger for my first tattoo? It’s literally right on a bone, it’s going to hurt like hell.

“I guess…” I whisper.

“It won’t be that painful - trust me. People overexaggerate,” you say, trying to calm me down.

People weren’t overexaggerating - it hurt.

It hurt a lot.

I bit my lip, holding back the scream on the end of my lips.

“Hold on,” you said, removing the pen.

You soon came back with candy and began to unwrap it.

“Open your mouth, my liege.”

After chuckling, I opened my mouth and you plopped the sweet in my mouth.

Ooh, mango.

“Focus on the sweet, okay?” You said, patting my back.

It felt less painful, surprisingly. Focusing on the sweet rolling in my mouth helped reduce the pain significantly.

I raised my head slightly so that I could see your intense focus on my finger. You were biting on your lower lip as you slowly moved the pen on my finger, following the temporary tattoo you made earlier as a guide. You were annoyed by a strand of your hair that refused to stay behind on your ear - your anger-filled expression said it all.

Using my other hand, I pushed it behind your ear to help you focus.

A soft thank you came from you as you continued.

Blood rushed to my cheeks the minute those words left your lips.

So cute.

“You didn’t finish your story…” I asked, trying to end the awkward silence.

“It was that interesting to you?” you smiled.

You’re interesting, Y/N.

I nod.

“I asked them if I could draw again. I didn’t want to lose that skill I finetuned all my life - it felt so wrong. They thought I’d never succeed in life if I focused on ‘these useless hobbies’ and shouted at me. I remember crying for hours, but they didn’t care,” you say as you turn off the pen, wiping the tip.

“I began to spend more hours in school just so that I could scribble and draw. They’d never know what I did there - all the drawings I did, all the stories I wrote, all the songs I sang. I am not like my parents. I strayed from the thought of ‘art is useless’- I am the bird moving away from the flock,” you said, turning your chair towards me.

“Why did they hate art? It’s something that makes you happy - If it’s something you like, you should do it,” I said, slightly pissed.

Thank God they didn’t listen to them.

“Best part - they have paintings all over the house,” you snickered.

You sighed, stretching your arms in the process.

“I don’t really care about their opinion about it, anyway. I’m no longer under their wing - I’m my own person. I get money by doing the thing I love, and that’s so fulfilling. The only thing they’re paying for right now is my college education - that’s it,” you said as you pressed a wet cloth to my new tattoo.

“Wait - we’re the same age?”

“Yeah, we are,” you smiled.

“I expected you to be way older,” I say, embarrassed.

“I am utterly offended, sir,” you say, feigning sadness.

“Come on!” I say, laughing.

“I am expecting a tip,” you say, walking towards the door.

You’re amazing, Y/N. I just wish I met you earlier…

⁜

⁜

⁜

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Yamaguchi Tadashi,” you say, closing the cash register in front of you.

“And I you, my friend.”

I walk to the door, gripping on the door handle.

I want you in my life, Y/N. Even if we spent just a few hours together, you’ve made me so happy. If you are open to the idea, I want to be friends with you - and who knows? We might become something…

I walk back to the cashier.

“Oh, did I forget something?” You ask, worried.

“No, no…”

Come on, say it.

“Hey, wanna exchange numbers? I wanna hang out with you - of course, only if you want to,” you say smiling.

Holy shit.

“Yes, please.”

You held back your laugh the minute you saw my face.

How many times have I made you laugh just by you looking at my face?

“Here’s my number,” you passed me your card, “Message me so that I get your number, too!”

“Okay!” I smile.

Holy shit. I did it.

“See you again, ‘guchi.”

⁜

⁜

⁜

[omg-imagine]

All We Are

Pairing: Johnny Silverhand x female!V

Summary: V is jealous after Johnny’s date with Rogue, which leads to an honest discussion about where they both stand.

Words: 1.7k

Warning: spoilers for Blistering Love side job, a little angst

A/N: Requested by an anon. This may be a bit different than what you were expecting, but I was in the feels™. Hope you still enjoy :)

Also, can we please talk about how adorable he looks in the gif?? 

The long drive back to the apartment was silent; the utter stillness in the car weighs heavily on V’s mind. Hands gripping tight on the steering wheel, she tries to ignore this unsettling ache she has, not allowing even an ounce of thought to pass. Though she chalks it off as a side effect of the pseudoendotrizine, this strange, hollow feeling of hers continues to stir deep inside, burning, burning and burning.

And so, she switches on the radio and focuses ahead on the stretch of road winding down the North Oak hills, the approaching lights of Night City glowing brighter against the inky skies. A fresh breeze flows into the open windows, dulling the tension for a moment.

A moment of tranquility that ends far too soon, yet it was a moment V’s at least grateful to have.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Johnny points out, the gruff baritone of his voice piercing the air. “An enny for your thoughts?”

Kicking his feet up on the dashboard, his aviators glint in the silver moonlight, making him appear impossibly more obnoxious than he usually is. He acts as if he’s not aware of the recent thoughts plaguing V’s head, but perhaps that truly was the case. If it were, then she would be surprised— Johnny often invades her mind, poking and prodding at things he shouldn’t be. For a while, she assumes he knows.

“Just tired,” V replies monotonously. Her answer was far from a lie; she really was tired. Exhausted, even. All she wants is to collapse into bed, pass out, and hope that for a few short hours, she can forget about today, about everything.

“Huh,” he breathes out, and V spares him not a single glance. “Pretty sure somethin’ was up. You’ve been actin’ weird since we left the drive-in.”

A chuckle rumbles through her chest. V still finds it unusual for Johnny to act so… concerned. Almost caring, if she had to be honest. She’s noticed a change in him recently, which became apparent after their conversation in the oil fields. He’s a lot softer now, sometimes sweet, both in his own unique way, of course. As if his rough edges were slightly smoothed out with sandpaper, enough that they no longer cut and make her bleed.

V would often catch him staring when he thinks she’s not looking. She also doesn’t fail to miss the small smile that creeps across his face as she talks. And in those passing seconds that lasts an eternity when the relic malfunctions, Johnny was there to offer her comfort. He’d kneel down to the ground while she coils in agony, whispering promises that this will all be over soon. That one way or another, they would get rid of that goddamn chip slotted in V’s head and ultimately save her life.

Life. Life has a funny way of unraveling itself. Fuck, this all seems like a cruel joke the universe is playing on V. Fate is rarely kind to her, a sad fact she’s accepted over the years. Never would she have imagined that after experiencing the pain of heartbreak and loss, she’d find herself falling for someone at the worst possible time.

And that someone is the imprisoned digital ghost of a rockerboy-turned-terrorist studying her from the passenger seat.

But V’s adamant in denying it. Her life was too fucking complicated for this right now.

“Are you capable of shutting the fuck up for two seconds?” V bitterly snaps, the hands on the wheel clenching stiffly as her jaw. “You got what you wanted tonight. Finally got your dick wet after fifty years, so leave me the hell alone, would’ya?!”

She doesn’t mean to act on her muted anger, but it manages to get the best of her. V knows why, and because of it, she crumbles. She crumbles like the walls she’s built around herself. Like the facade she’s been hiding behind for the past couple of months. Because underneath the dirt and grime, V was just a poor, tragic soul, more worried about losing the man she couldn’t have than her awaiting death.

“Really think that’s what happened?” Johnny asks, pushing his shades up to his head as he shifts to sit up straight in his seat.

V grits her teeth, eyes remaining locked on the road. She had woken up an hour or two after Johnny took over, finding her lips still warm, still swollen. Her hair was tousled, and she had been stripped off of most of her clothes; the scent of Rogue’s perfume lingering on her skin. She didn’t need him to recount; it was all clear to her what had transpired. It was what she agreed on to make him happy, a date with the Afterlife fixer and whatever it could lead up to.

In the end, V regretted it, not because Johnny used her body to sleep with someone. But because even after the rollercoaster ride, the dog tags, the private concerts, and the heart-to-heart they had at his gravesite, she still wasn’t his. He was too hung up over Rogue, and she couldn’t blame him. Having shared a lengthy history, there was no doubt Johnny wouldn’t snatch up the opportunity to win her back.

But then where does that leave V?

“The fuck is wrong, V? Don’t make me figure it out by myself.”

Biting the edge of her lip, she ignores Johnny’s latest question and contemplates swallowing an omega blocker. She doesn’t even care that he’s threatening to search for the truth without her permission. Choosing not to do so, he keeps pressing on regardless, and V was getting pissed off. When he doesn’t stop, she loses her temper and slams on the brakes, the Porsche coming to a screeching halt on a dead street.

Huffing, V pulls over to the side, shutting the car’s engine as Johnny is left bewildered by her actions. Peace and quiet. She yearns for peace and quiet, and the pills would do the trick in an instant. Her hand reaches for the bottle in her jacket pocket, the pounding of her heart echoing in her ears. Popping the cap open, she turns her head to the side, unable to help herself. She sees the tenderness etched in his features, a wordless plea shining in his dark eyes.

“V… Tell me.”

V’s gaze slowly falters, her consciousness at war with itself. The storm of anger in her calms, yet she needs to know what her next move is. She’s always been terrible at this sort of thing, dealing with her feelings and shit. Growing up in the streets of Heywood, she’s learned how to shut people out and keep them out. Biggest rule she had imposed on herself was to never, ever fall for a choom, but this time was different. Despite him being a mere figment of her imagination, she feels safe around Johnny, appreciated and content. The two understand each other on a level nobody else has done. They’ve been through literal hell and would only sink further into it to find a way to survive.

A chrome palm comes to rest on V’s cheek, the sensation oddly warm, oddly familiar. Her attention flickers back to Johnny as he strokes her weary face. His touch was delicate, movements careful and controlled. He treats her as if she were porcelain, afraid that his metal hand would cause her to crack. V exhales deeply, relishing the feeling she’s longed from the moment she had broken that dumb rule of hers.

“Go ahead,” she mumbles, giving Johnny consent for him to read her mind. It only takes a second, maybe even less. V half expects his shit-eating grin to make its appearance. She couldn’t forget how cocky he was, and she thought this would certainly rub his ego.

It never comes. Instead, Johnny’s lips turn up into a genuine smile, one softer than the way his black hair falls to frame his face. V swears she was floating; this doesn’t feel all that real to her. It couldn’t be real. But as the first faint slivers of sunlight appear on the horizon, she starts to believe that she isn’t dreaming nor hallucinating. She was still very much wide awake.

“Didn’t know you were the jealous type,” Johnny quips as he leans closer. “You had no reason to be jealous, princess.”

“Why not?”

“Nothin’ happen between Rogue and me,” he clarifies, his fingers pushing back her locks. “Yeah, we made out a little, but I couldn’t go through with it. Wanna know why?”

V nods.

“’Cause I realized that ship sailed a long time ago. We’re too different people now; she’s got her own life, while I got mine sittin’ right here.”

“Johnny…” she murmurs his name as he brings up his other hand to cradle her face. “I wanted to have what you and Rogue had, minus the shitty things you did. But I could feel how much you loved her, how you basically worshipped the ground she walked on. Then I thought, can’t compete with her. She’s a livin’ legend, a badass. Meanwhile, I could be dead the next minute or two, either by this fuckin’ relic or a bullet.”

“Trust me, V, you wouldn’t want that,” Johnny returns, resting his forehead against hers. How could he feel so real? “What you and I have is special. Ain’t felt this way before, not even with Rogue or Alt. Like I said, you’re the fuckin’ closest to me. These feelings you’re afraid of? Shit, I have them too, and I’m fuckin’ terrified. But knowing that you’re here and we both share them, it makes things a lot less scary.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Johnny laughs softly. “Gotta spell it out for ya, huh? Well then, here it goes; V, I love you. I don’t throw that word around randomly, but know that it’s what I feel whenever I think of you.”

V doesn’t waste a second longer. Her lips meet his for a kiss that is gentle and bruising, all at once. They hold one another close, their grasps taut so that the other wouldn’t slip away, not wanting to lose what they’ve gained. Time goes by, ticking in the background as they kiss again and again, but to them, it’s slow, nearly everlasting.

And when it was over, when they finally had to part, they were breathless, panting.

“Love you too, Johnny,” she murmurs into his skin, tone dripping with affection as he hums in response.

Night melds into day, and the city comes back to its fullest life. V kisses Johnny a final time before driving back to the place she calls home, even though she’s found her true one in his heart.

—

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[ragingpancake]

Lietuenant Colonel Idiot And The Kastat Root Part 2

Part 1

The first thing John is aware of when he starts to come to is the quiet beeping of machines. He knows that that’s never a good sign but he feels floaty and warm so he has a hard time caring about what exactly landed him in the infirmary this time. He opens his eyes slowly, blinking against the overhead light, dim as it was in the moment but he doesn’t realize he’s made a noise until Teyla and Ronon quickly come into his line of vision. “Hi,” he manages, voice hoarse with disuse, and you know, probably from the tube they’d shoved down his throat to anesthetize him when Carson had cut him back open to clean him up a little. “Where’s… what happened?” He has a vague memory of a stomachache and of screaming but the pain meds they have him on makes it hard to think. It also makes it hard to sleep, so when Teyla tells him gently that he should go back to sleep and they’ll fill him in later, he doesn’t argue. He just closes his eyes and lets the darkness return.

-- It happens like that a couple of times before John finally, truly, wakes up. He thinks that it’s probably the pain that does it, that pulls him back to the land of the lucid, as Beckett has started weaning him off of the good stuff. He doesn’t remember much from those quick bursts of consciousness, but he does remember that while he’s seen Teyla and Ronon every time, he hasn’t once seen Rodney. Where’s Rodney? “Aye, Colonel,” Carson greets, leaning over as he adjusts John’s nasal cannula, Teyla and Ronon just visible over his shoulder. “Welcome back t’the land of the livin’, lad. How’re ya feelin’ this morning?” “Where’s Rodney?” He doesn’t miss the way Carson’s face shifts, just for a moment, nor does he miss the look shared by Teyla and Ronon. Something sits painfully in his gut at that and for one brief, horrible moment, he’s afraid that something happened to Rodney, something off-world, because Rodney was always here when he woke up, and-- “Settle down now,” Carson admonishes gently, and John is embarrassed to realize that the beeping on his heart rate monitor has sped up. “Rodney’s down in the labs, that’s all. He’s alright. The only one y’need to be worryin’ about now is yourself.” “How much do you remember?” Ronon asks and John can tell by the look on Teyla’s face that she’s not pleased at the question. It had been a routine mission, right? M3-X982, the Plesians, according to the ancient database. Not so routine if you ended up here, his brain reminds him and okay, fair enough. He takes a second and tries to think through the brain fog he always associates with the good drugs. He remembers the almost meatloaf and the bad jokes told by Plesia’s leader, Korom. He remembers the heat--. No. Not heat. The fever and the stomachache and--. Screaming. Hoarse screams, begging them to stop killing him, for Ronon to let him go, for Teyla to help him. And Rodney… Rodney, holding the dagger looking very much on the edge of a panic attack as he sliced through John’s skin, flaying him open. “Your appendix nearly ruptured,” Carson supplies, voice more gentle now. “Rodney recognized the signs fairly quickly but the doctor in Plesia was ill-equipped to operate.” “Doctor McKay very likely saved your life, John,” Teyla says, a fact she’s tried to get through to Rodney since their return. “Aye,” Carson agrees. “We had t’put ya under again to clean up a bit of infection and to right some suturin’, but he did bloody well considerin’ the circumstances.” “Then why… why isn’t he here?” Because no one has actually told him that much, but John can probably guess why. Guilt is a hell of a thing and John knows in an instant that he would’ve never wanted the roles reversed, would’ve never have wanted to have to--. “I need to talk to him,” and he’s not exactly thrilled with how desperate he sounds but he really doesn’t care right. He needs to talk to Rodney, needs to seehim, to tell him he did good. He starts pulling at all the leads and wires and Ronon is there again, a firm hand on his shoulder, urging him back down. “Let me talk to him first,” he says and even Teyla raises an eyebrow at that. Ronon isn’t exactly known for his uh, gentle nature, but when she meets John’s eyes, she gives him the slightest of nods. “Tell him to get his ass in here, or I’m gonna come find him myself,” John warns, but there’s no heat. The slight exertion has left him very nearly panting through a wave of pain. “I’ll be sure to pass on the message,” he says and without anything further, Ronon is gone. -- Rodney McKay isn’t known for his silence. He knows he’s a loud, obnoxious, abrasiveman even on his best day and yet ever since they’d returned from Plesia, he hadn’t been able to muster up the strength to even so much as raise his voice. It’s unnerving his scientists, he knows, but he doesn’t care. Mostly, he keeps to himself and keeps working, stopping only long enough for the occasional power nap and to replenish his supply of power bars. He’s just finished the aforementioned nap when Ronon finds

him, trudging back down to the laps to continue his work on the ancient device they’d found some time ago. He’s hoping that with enough tweaking, it can be used to send a patient into something sort of a temporary stasis, long enough to get them back through the Stargate where an actual fucking medical team can--. “McKay,” Ronon calls, but Rodney doesn’t stop. “Little busy, Chewie,” he calls over his shoulder but it lacks the usual McKay bite. “Sheppard’s awake.” Rodney does stop for that, but he doesn’t turn, shoulders tensing and he has to take a deep breath because he can feel something like panic trying to surge up again. “Is he--?” “Pissed? Yeah. Pissed that you weren’t there with us when he woke up.” “Well I’m sorry that some of us have actual work to do and can’t spend days--.” “You’re bein’ dumb.” Rodney whirls around at that, and he can feel the vein in his forehead throbbing in anger because he’s not--! He’s just--! “Sheppard probably wouldn’t have made it out of surgery without some major problems if we’d waited until the rain stopped. The Doc said so himself. Because of what you did, he’s got about another week of medicine and he’ll be back on his feet.” “I am not that kind of doctor,” Rodney reminds Ronon and he hates how he sounds in that moment, so, so upset. So weak. The weakest on the team, always. “You were the most qualified in that room to do what had to be done,” Ronon says and while that may actually be true, that won’t help when the nightmares come back. “You held it together better than either me or Teyla would’ve.” Rodney highly doubts that. “Listen,” Ronon says and this may be the most words Rodney’s heard him string together ever. “It sucked but it had to be done. You can’t keep beating yourself up for it.” We’ll see about that, Rodney thinks. “Thanks for the pep talk, Conan,” he says as he starts back for the labs. “You’re goin’ the wrong way. Infirmary’s that way.” Rodney doesn’t respond and he half expects Ronon to come after him, to throw him over his shoulder and haul him off to the infirmary, but a moment later, Rodney hears a quiet sigh and heavy footsteps falling away. He’s just not ready yet. -- Rodney might not be ready yet, but John’s never been the most patient person in the world. Especially not when it comes to Rodney. He’s tired, in pain, and annoyedby the time he makes it down to the labs, a trip that should’ve taken him five minutes on a good day but has taken nearly a half an hour for all the breaks he’s had to take to stop and lean against the wall. Carson’s going to have a field day when he comes back from surgery to find that John’s managed to sneak out, but he’ll just have to deal with that later. For now, the only thing he’s concerned about is Rodney. Atlantis takes pity on him and opens the door to the labs the minute she senses him approaching, allowing him to continue to hold on the wall as he slips inside and the minute he sees the slope of those shoulders in that blue shirt, any annoyance John had been feeling faded away. “Listen Teyla,” Rodney says and he sounds exasperated which leads John to believe that the Athosian has been down here plenty while he’s been holed up in the infirmary. He’s glad for that though. Means his people are taking care of each other. “I appreciate y--,” he turns and the words die in his throat. “Hi Rodney,” John greets, maybe a little dumbly and Rodney stands up so quickly that his stool topples backward. John thinks maybe he’s going to haul off and punch him, so he braces for impact, but when Rodney approaches, he grabs John’s arm and hauls it around his shoulder, giving him something else to lean against. “You’re supposed to be in the infirmary, you absolute idiot,” Rodney hisses and when he gets John seated on a stool, he moves to tap the communicator in his ear. “Rodney, wait!” And he reaches for the other, closing his hand around Rodney’s wrist. “Just… gimme a minute, okay?” Rodney hesitates, which is unusual for him. Rodney is always so sure of himself and quick to make

sure everyone knows it. Was this because of what happened on Plesia? “Listen,” John says and that’s about as far as he gets before Rodney is talking over him. “No! You listen, you, you, you irresponsible, stupid—” There’s a half a second that John wants to be offended and starts to respond in kind, but he stops himself because he realizes that Rodney needs this. That he’s been holding this in since they got back from that stupid planet. “You could have died! And not just from your stupid appendix, but your entire body could have gone into shock and you could have died! Because you were too stupid, too, too, too you to just go to the damn infirmary before we ever left!” “I know, Rodney and I’m –” “No! You don’t know. You have no idea!” He’s pacing now, wringing his hands together and John doesn’t think he’s ever seen him so upset. The thought that he’d been the one to cause that— “What if I’d been wrong, Sheppard? What if that had been for nothing? What if I’d—" “Rodney,” John says and he stands then, ignoring the way that the room spins just a little. “Listen to me, okay? I’m fine. You did everything right, and you probably saved me from a really shitty next few weeks, assuming I hadn’t died. I wouldn’t be sitting here right now if it wasn’t for you.” “But--.” “No buts,” John answers. “I’m sorry you had to do that, that I made you have to make that choice. You’re right, it was stupid to go off world without getting checked out first and I’m sorry, alright?” He reaches up, rubbing uncomfortably at the back of his neck. “I just… wanted to, you know, thank you for saving my ass out there. And to tell you that I’m really glad to know that no matter what, you’ve got my back.” And Rodney sags, all of the fight and the anger and maybe a little of the guilt too having gone out of him. “You’re… really alright?” “I’m really alright,” John promises him and this time, Rodney sags against the table, the tension leaving shoulders. “Thank God,” he breathes, and a breath later, “you owe me for this.” “Ah, there he is,” John says and he feigns annoyance, rolling his eyes. “No, no, you don’t understand. You owe me.” “I know, Rodney.” He doesn’t protest as Rodney comes around again, hauling John’s arm over his shoulder and as they begin to make their way from the science lab, back to John’s own quarters, John lets Rodney’s incessant babble wash over him. It felt good to hear it again, he realizes, even if he knows he’s never going to hear the end of this. And honestly? Well. He wouldn’t change that for anything in the world.

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

Mice in the Walls

CW: stalking, implied parental abuse, implied victim cutting ties with abuser, captivity, “it” as a pronoun meant to demean, choking, hitting, implied delusions, angry whumper, controlling whumper. 

Please read the CWs on this one. I’ll be more than happy to give you a general summary if you need (will probably do so anyway) let me know if you want a specific tag, and I’ll tag everything with this topic “Bernard tw” as he’s the culprit. 

Stay Safe loves, and do what’s best for you. 

[First Part] 

The doorbell rang and Bernard took a breath. As he opened the door, he put on his smile. The friendly smile, the inviting smile. The one he used at work and for the cashier at the checkout lane.

The mask. 

“Steven! How the hell are you?” he asked cheerfully, reaching out for a firm handshake. 

“Doing well, life’s just a joy.” The body smiled back at him, cheap wine in its hand and absurdly  ignorant of how pedestrian and mediocre its life was. Bernards eye’s skimmed over the man’s obnoxious shirt pattern, its ill filling slacks and cheap shoe polish before opening the door wider and gesturing it in with a smile. 

“Well, I didn’t invite you over just to stand on my porch! Come on in, lunch’s almost ready.” He had prepared some simple things, mostly store bought. He had no intention of trying to impress this pawn. 

“So Bernie, what’s new in the Wright household?” Steven asked lightly, setting down the bottle of wine and peering at the others displayed. Perhaps it would spark some recognition of how abject of a gift that had been. 

Bernard doubted. 

“Nothing much, Steve. Just livin the good life,” he recited as he ventured into the kitchen. 

“How’s Adam doing?” 

Bernard kept his back to the man, dishing out the potato salad. 

“Oh good, getting ready to graduate.” 

He could feel Steven pause behind him. 

“Oh? I thought something got jostled when he moved schools?” 

He bristled. Adam had moved, again. Always moving, blocking his numbers, spreading lies about him. How did he not realize that he just wanted the best for him? That he could help, that he could be a resource? The world wasn’t what Adam though it was, it was dangerous and hateful and-

The plastic container cracked. 

“What was that?” Steven asked, popping its head over Bernard’s shoulder. 

“Damn cheap plastic. Good thing I already got some out, eh?” His voice was pitched light and jovial, softly concealing his rage.  He put the now broken container to the side and picked up the bowl to set on the table between them. 

Bernard ate almost in silence, the body across from him droning on and on about the most inconsequential, mundane things. Its wife, its car, the remodeling of its house. It was pitiful. Nearly fifty-years of existence with only the most boring of conversations to show for it. Surface level, meaningless accolades that only made it seem more pathetic for how much it cared. 

The only time he found himself truly paying attention was when the conversation turned to the man’s daughters. They were also highly inconsequential, but they were the link that he had been searching for. 

They knew Adam. 

“Kesly is doing great, just about to finish high school. Man, can you believe it? Feels like just yesterday she was playing princess and pirate and now my baby’s going to college. Maddie’s just made varsity at her school.” 

Steven took another sip of its drink and winked conspiratorially at Bernard. “If Adam still plays then maybe they’ll face off some time, eh? She used to to whip his butt when they played in middle school.” 

Bernard squinted slightly with a toothy smile. “Only because he let her. And he’s gotten far better over the years.” He hadn’t seen Adam play since then, but he could only assume that his skill had improved over time.  

He took another bite of his lunch and made a mental note to find Maddie’s school and locate what colleges were in the district for lacrosse. 

Irritatedly, the conversation shifted to something pointless again and Bernard was left to wait until it could be useful. As the time dragged on, there was a dull thud from somewhere higher in the house. 

“What was that?” Steven asked, turning around its chair to look behind and above him. 

The fork bent under Bernard’s hand. 

“I didn’t hear anything.” 

Steven shook its head, wiping its mouth with its napkin. “No, no there was definitely a noise.” 

“Oh, that,” he replied casually, taking an even breath. “There’s mice in the attic.” 

A huff. “Sounds like pretty big mice to me. I can call a buddy out if you ever need anyone to do something about it. He’ll do it real cheap, too.”

Bernard waved him away, keeping the utensil under the table and bending back to its correct shape. “No, no need. I’m handling it myself.” 

They continued to chat uselessly, meaninglessly, until Steven finally decided it had wasted enough air here and would go be pointless somewhere else. Bernard watched him leave, said the expected this was great, we need to do it again soon, see you later before locking the door, finally free of such a useless creature. 

Teddy was hiding. Or at least, closest that he got to hiding with the chain giving his location away. He was between the bed and the wall, in the small space where the roof met the floor. 

He had been reading, laying on the bed trying to get lost in the book he had already read a million times. Maybe it had worked, considering that he had fallen asleep. The book fell. 

Now he was shivering in his only hiding place, desperately hoping that no-one had been home. He wished he knew what day it was, he wished he knew the man’s schedule, he could tell went it was safe. But no, there was no safety here, no regular pattern for him to latch onto. It was hell. 

The locked clatter and the ladder slunk down, filling him with fear. He was here, he had heard it. Teddy curled a hand around the bedpost. 

“Come out.” 

He didn’t, he couldn’t. He didn’t want to go back in the coal shed, didn’t want to be punished. It was an accident, and even then he was afraid that the nearly-memorized books would be taken away. 

“Now,” the man growled. Teddy shook his head and held on harder. 

Bernard groaned and wrapped the chain around his hand once, then twice, then pulled. The boy was still holding on so Bernard pulled again, harder this time. There was a small cry and a dragging noise as Teddy was pulled from behind the bed. 

Bernard looked down at him and only one thought screamed back in his head. 

Adam moved. 

Adam had moved again. 

He had moved, and blocked his number, his profiles, ever way that Bernard could contact his son were shut down, forbidden from him. He cut him out, disrespected him, shamed him left him to suffer through hours of meaningless conversation just for the smallest bits of information. 

Looking down, Bernard couldn’t contain his anger any longer. 

“You switched schools? Again? Without consulting with me? You ungrateful bastard,” he sneered, kicking the boy in his ribs. He yelped, eyes wide with fear. Good. He should be afraid, he should be ashamed of his pathetic behavior. He had been taught better than to disrespect him like this.

Teddy coughed and froze, tears starting to pour from his eyes. No, no no not this again. “Please,” he coughed, rolling onto his side. “Please I’m not Adam.” Every cough hurt, sending little bolts of pain through his chest and side. Still, he looked up to the man, staring into the steel cold eyes. 

“M-My name is Theodore Ramirez,” he rambled quickly, not for the first time. “My parents are Diana and Jonathan, they live in-” 

“NO!” The man shouted, pinning it down and wrapping his hands around its neck. No! No, no no no this! Stop! He squeezed, putting more and more weight on it’s thin throat. He would make it stop. 

Teddy wheezed, shoulders pinned down by the man’s knees. He was on top of him, he was choking him, he was killing him. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Struggling was useless, the man being so much larger than him. His clipped nails left practically no marks, drew no blood. 

“Don’t. You. Ever say that again,” growled, lifting its neck to slam it back into the wood. “Never. You are Adam, and you’re going to stay this time.” He loosened his grip the slightest bit. 

“Understand?” His question only had one correct answer. Teddy knew it, didn’t have enough air left to deny it. His head still spun from the blows, a loud ringing obstructing some of the words. 

“Y-Yes,” he managed, only the ghost of a noise. “Yes, I’m Adam. I’m sorry - I’m Adam.” The pressure let up more and more as he complied. By the end, the man was only resting his hands over the boy’s throat. 

Bernard signed and raised a hand to brush it across Adam’s cheek gently. “There. See, things are so much better when you stop lying. Let me take care of you, keep you safe.” 

The boy coughed and cried underneath him, never leaving him again.

~~

taggy boissss @whump-me-all-night-long @starnight-whump @highwaywhump @panic-and-chaos @as-a-matter-of-whump @cowboy-anon @just-a-raccoon-in-a-party-hat @milk-carton-whump

[anon-e-miss]

So. Is Punch gonna have a ""talk"" with his creations after they get this all resolved?

When Jazz reached Polihex, all he wanted to do was find Prowl. He imagined what he would do if he found a trick with him, imagined the way he would hurt the mechanisms who used his beloved but Jazz knew better to than to give into energon lust. It was not enough to find Prowl, he needed to save Prowl, save their creation, save Barricade and his nephew, save anyone who wanted to be saved from that life. Striking in the dark-cycle, while the tricks cycled through the brothel would not serve this at all. That did not mean that patience came easy.

Jazz hugged Ricochet as soon as he found him. He knew his brother was hurting. It had never been clear to him what Ricochet had felt for Barricade and maybe still felt. When he had moved on so fast with Artfire, Jazz had pulled away a bit; he had wondered if Ricochet had not expected him to do the same. Seeing Ricochet now, Jazz wondered if his hunch had not been right all along and Barricade had been more than just a friend with benefits.

They did not comfort each other so much as sit together in their shared guilt. There could be no comfort, not until they had their mechanisms safe. He knew Prowl may not forgive him, safe for him and the mechling would not necessarily be in Jazz's life, if Prowl wanted him to stay away, Jazz would stay away. Whether they were in the same room or Jazz could only monitor from a distance, Jazz would make certain he would be safe and provided for, forever.

The brothers did not have long to wait for Punch to arrive. Jazz could not look at his ori in the optics. He felt his anger, his shame and his disappointment. It lashed his spark like an invisible whip and Jazz knew he deserved every strike. Next to him, Ricochet did not flinch, like Jazz, he knew this was a disappointment Ori was unlikely to forgive. Punch said nothing at first, watching his twin creations as they sat on the lumpy hotel berth and stared at the floor like a pair of scolded younglings.

"I thought I raised ya better than to use mecha," Punch said, softly.

He had. Punch was righteous. This world was more grey than black and white but there were rules to ever shade. In their craft it was easy to become wicked and Punch had a complex web of rules he lived by and he had raised his creations by to keep from becoming monsters.It was a complicated balancing act and Jazz and Ricochet had jumped off the rope with no net below them to catch them. He would have been angry, knowing they had left lovers without a glyph or a goodbye. Treating mechanisms like they were disposable was perhaps Punch's most hated character trait. Jazz had all his excused, had lived with them and by them for vorns but he knew they would be hollow in Ori's audials.

"Wasn't tryin' to us 'm, Ori," Jazz said, without lifting his helm. "Couldn't stay, he couldn't go."

"Ya gave 'em no way to reach ya," Punch said.

"No," Jazz replied. "Megatron mighta tracked us."

"Megatron mighta tortured 'em, thinkin' they knew where yous was gone," Punch countered and Jazz bowed his helm lower. They had been discreet but there was no telling how much Soundwave picked up, he never let on. "Ya left 'm to die."

"They didn't..." Jazz argued, snapping his helm up to stare into his originator's enraged faceplates.

"They coulda," Punch snapped. "They coulda died. 'N maybe they're alive now but it's been a livin' death."

"If I'da thought Prowler'd e'er leave..."

"What made ya so sure he wouldn't?"

"He hates, he hated the Autobots wit every filament in his spark," Jazz replied. "He hated everythin' they represented, everythin' they guarded. I thought... I thought he'da looked at those bitlets I killed 'n called 'em casualties of war... I couldn't talk to'em. I couldn't argue wit 'em. So I didn't."

"And ya, Rico?" Punch asked.

"Cade was constructed to be Prowl's guard," Ricochet replied. "He took it serious. They're close as brothers. I knew he wouldn't leave without Prowl. So I didn't ask'm to."

"Ya just left."

"Yeah, I just left."

"Neither o' ya deserve forgiveness," Punch said. "Gettin'em out don't mean ya deserve scrap. Ya left 'em, 'n they suffered for it. They watched their bitlets suffer for it. Gettin'em out is the least ya can do. 'N I expect ya to do more than the least, whether they give ya the time o' mega-cycle or not."

"Yeah, Ori," Jazz said. Ricochet nodded. "What do we do? It's a Swindle operation?"

"Which Swindle? Do we know?" Punch asked.

"The blue one," Ricochet replied.

"Oh good," Punch replied. "That's the dumb one. He ain't hooked up wit the Combaticons so none o'em will be 'round as armed guards... First things first, we get into the accounts..."

(Joke from Transtech, there are three Swindles and they run Swindle, Swindle and Swindle in Axiom Nexxus. They've split off into their own ventures here.)

[smartycvnt]

Sleeping With the Enemy - Chapter 1

Warnings: kicking things off with a bit of smut, gotta set the tone somehow i guess

You had spent your entire life in the state of Georgia. The majority of that time had been spent in a small town, Logansville. It was the kind of place where everybody had known everybody and you’d always sort of hated it. There hadn’t been much of an opportunity for you to really explore who you were and what you wanted to be back home. So, when you’d gotten the chance to go to Atlanta for college, you had stayed there. 

In the city, you hadn’t known anybody. Eventually, you stumbled on a familiar face in the form of one of your brother’s friends, Amanda Rollins. She’d come up to try and be a “big city cop” and the two of you grew pretty close in Atlanta. That being said, it was only a matter of time before you followed her up to New York. It definitely took a couple of years for you to get your bearings together before, but eventually you managed to get a job with the same unit at the DA’s office. 

“You look so good,” Amanda told you as she hugged you tightly. Even after Amanda had left Atlanta, you’d kept going into the gym without her. A part of you had held out that she’d come back down for a visit, but she never did. 

“Couldn’t have you showing up for a surprise visit and kicking my ass, now could I?” Amanda let go of you and the two of you started walking down the street. “Where are you taking me?” 

“A bar.” It looked like a sports bar and you frowned. You knew that Amanda had issues with gambling, it had really been her only vice when the two of you had been staying with each other. “Don’t look at me like that. You wanna go to one of those fancy lawyer bars?” 

“Well, I am about to be a fancy lawyer Mandy,” you pointed out. Amanda rolled her eyes at you and hailed a cab to take the two of you to a nicer part of the city. 

“I am not dressed for this kind of place,” Amanda grumbled. You, on the other hand, definitely were. You’d been pretty high up at the Atlanta DA office and you’d started to venture into private practices before you’d put in for a transfer. There, you had to dress to impress everyday, especially with some of the bigger shot boys who liked using your rural upbringing against you. 

“Like you’d let something so trivial get in the way of you livin’ your best life,” you reminded her. Just as you opened your mouth to say something else, her phone started ringing. 

“Sorry. Raincheck?” Amanda asked as she answered the call. You nodded and ended up at the bar anyways while Amanda went to meet her partner at a crime scene. There was a pretty good chance that you’d end up taking this case, which excited you. The potential for getting to start your job so quickly after moving was great, you hated sitting around and doing nothing. “Hey, call me when you get home.” 

“You too,” you told Amanda as you got out of the cab. With a deep breath, you stepped into the bar. Inside, it reminded you of the places your old boss used to hang around. There was a designated smoking section upstairs, but the smell of cigars was heavy in the common area. Remembering that confidence was key and that any number of these patrons could be potential court rivals, you swaggered up to the bar and sat down. 

“What can I get you miss?” the bartender asked you. 

“Bourbon on the rocks please, mid shelf,” you told him. He nodded and grabbed a bottle from the fourth shelf and a glass. You passed him a $50 and he told you that you were good for about 5 drinks with it. So, you sat at the bar with your glass of bourbon, watching as other people walked around and spoke with each other. 

“Let me guess, low level corporate law?” Rita asked you. Technically, she’d been correct, back in Atlanta, your private practice stuff had pertained mostly to mid-level corporations. You didn’t handle anything like Amazon, but your clients were big enough for your move up to New York to go without a financial hitch. 

“You’re pretty good, but that was back home. I’m in a new place now, doing new things.” You tipped your glass back and finished the rest of your drink. "You're a big shot, ain'tcha?"

"Looking to climb some ladders?" Your cheeks heated up at the assumption. It wasn't exactly an accurate one, but it'd make you feel a little guilty for wanting to go home with her. She took notice of your change in demeanor and waved the bartender over. "Can we get a couple more drinks? Oh, and keep hers on my tab."

"I take it that you aren't gonna give me any boosts," you teased a little.

"Something tells me that my word wouldn't mean much to your bosses. I'm Rita." She held a hand out for you to shake.

"Y/n," you introduced yourself as you took her hand. Her hands were soft, but you could tell that they were strong as well. You glanced up at her briefly to see her checking out your hands, something dirty running through her mind.

"What would you say to a couple more drinks with me and then we can see where the night takes us?" Rita asked you. You gave her a small nod in agreement to her suggestion as you downed your drink.

"I can think of a couple places I'd like to spend the night." The two of you shared a look and Rita set her glass down on the bar.

"Come on, there's no use staying here and wasting money on drinks we don't need," Rita told you. You grabbed your jacket and started walking out of the bar. Rita was fairly close behind you. "Car's waiting."

"Nice car," you noted as she got the door for you. You slid over all the way and she sat down next to you. She tapped on the partition and the car began to pull forward.

There wasn't much need for conversation on the drive to Rita's place. Her intentions were clear as day from the look in her eye and the way that her hand rested on your thighs. You let her slowly move her hand up, enjoying the little teasing game the two of you had begun.

"Come here," Rita whispered to you. You turned your head to face her and she placed her hand on your cheek. Slowly, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against yours. You pressed forward and she slid her tongue along your bottom lip. You parted your lips slightly and she slid her tongue inside of her mouth. Her tongue tasted like expensive wine with a hint of something smooth and dark. "You taste sweet, like honey."

Heat rose to your cheeks at Rita’s statement. Inside the car, there was nowhere for you to hide away. So, you decided to do something a little bold. Your hand slid in between the two of you, resting just under the bottom of her skirt. Rita shifted slightly, parting her thighs a bit as she did so. You inched your hand up a bit more and Rita leaned her forehead against yours. 

“If you’ve got a move to make, don’t hesitate,” she advised you. You let your hand keep going, but just as you reached the outside of her underwear, the car stopped. She sighed, obviously annoyed with the timing, but slid away from your gracefully and stepped out of the car. You were certain that you did not look nearly as composed as you followed Rita upstairs into her apartment. 

The elevator ride was a short one, but your concept of time was shot. All you wanted was to feel the press of Rita’s skin against yours. With every step you took towards Rita’s apartment, the faster your heart began to beat in your chest. Excitement and anticipation coursed through your body. 

“I could offer you a drink or we could skip that and go straight to my bedroom,” Rita offered. 

“I think we can skip the drinks.” Rita took your hand and led you down a hallway. She pushed open her bedroom door and shrugged off her blazer. You started on unbuttoning your shirt as she turned around and pulled you into another kiss. The bit of space between the door and her bed was now littered with both of your clothes. 

Rita laid you back on the bed and straddled your waist. You stared up at her, letting your eyes take in every inch of her offered to you. The two of you shared a couple of kisses, the intensity building with each one. Rita’s tongue explored your mouth with the same eagerness of your hands on her body. Your back arched, pushing your hips into hers. 

“I’d tell you to be patient, but that’s not why we’re here, is it?” Rita chuckled at you. It was a husky chuckle, one that sent chills down your spine. Rita trailed her finger down the valley of your breasts, stopping when she reached around where your ribs started. Your heart began to absolutely race as you watched Rita lean down and go over the same path with her tongue. Unlike with her fingers, Rita moved her tongue all the way down to your hips. 

She placed her hands on your knees and spread your legs apart. You watched her with baited breath as she leaned down in between your legs. Both of her hands slid down the length of your thighs, blunt nails scratching lightly over your skin. Ever so slowly, Rita leaned forward and dragged her tongue through your folds. 

She hummed at the taste of you on her tongue. Below her, you were writhing in pleasure as she sucked your clit into her mouth. Rita quickly moved her mouth down to lap at your entrance, licking up what was beginning to drip down. Rita briefly leaned away from you, but before you could let out a whine, she pushed two fingers inside of you. 

“Oh, fuck,” you groaned as she started to slowly fuck you. Rita sat back and watched as she pumped her fingers in and out of you. Rita moved her other hand in between your legs, rubbing your clit. You bit your lip to keep from screaming out, bucking your hips to match the speed of Rita’s fingers inside of you. 

“Be a good girl, don’t hold back,” Rita told you. She leaned forward a bit until she was practically hovering over you. Rita’s fingers curled inside of you and your head pushed back against the mattress. Your mouth fell open, moans and swears pouring out from your lips. “You’re so close aren’t you? I can feel you around my fingers.” 

You glanced up at Rita, noting the smirk on her face as she curled her fingers against your g-spot once again. Her fingers rolled over your clit and you absolutely lost it. Rita moved her hand away from your clit, but kept her fingers slowly rocking inside of you. She waited until your body relaxed before pulling out of you completely. 

“Look at me,” Rita told you as she moved to straddle you again. You forced yourself to keep your eyes open and look at her. A fire was set inside of you as you watched her lick your cum off of her fingers. You grabbed Rita’s hips and flipped the two of you so that you were on top. 

Rita’s hands entangled themselves in your hair as she guided your head in between her legs. You could see that she was soaked, and it looked like she’d been touching herself. It was obvious that Rita didn’t need any teasing, not that you believed she’d take it from you anyways. She was a woman who got what she wanted and you were more than prepared to give it away. 

“Fuck me,” Rita told you as she stared down at you. You let her pull your head in closer until your mouth was on her clit. Your tongue circled the bundle of nerves several times before you ran the flat part over it. Rita cried out in pleasure as you continued that. Her hips chased friction as you traced your fingertips over her entrance. 

You hummed happily as your fingers were enveloped with her warmth and wetness. Above you, Rita commanded more, to which you happily obliged. You kept going faster, keeping a quick pace with three fingers inside of her. You curled them several times, relishing in how she’d shake when you did. When Rita came, she came hard, the evidence of her arousal coating your fingers and dripping down along your hand and wrist. 

“Goddamn,” Rita panted. You moved out from between her legs and laid down on the bed. The sheets were soft, something you hadn’t noticed until now. Exhaustion began to settle in, but Rita had yet to tell you that you had to leave. Chances were you could make it away early enough in the morning to avoid anything too awkward. Normally, you’d just bolt as soon as the two of you were finished, but then Rita rolled over a little and you could feel her body pressing against yours. Between Rita and the sheets, there was no way that you were going anywhere that night.

Taglist: @storiesofsvu​ @xixxiixx​ @wannabe-fic-reader​ @gay-ass-bitch​ @mysticfalls01​ 

[burntmcnuggies]

HC: Hawks gets a pimple

Hawks x Reader

Warnings: fluff! Slight mention of suggestive sexual intercourse and cursing! But that’s it! Enjoy!

Word Count: 2.7K

Hawks was having a good morning so far. The sunlight peeked through the curtains of his spacious penthouse apartment, letting the orange glow illuminate the usually dark room. His avian like eyes peeked open, dark pupils shrinking at the sudden invasion of brightness. He rose a heavy hand up to block out the light, groaning in reluctance to rise from his comfy bed next to you. Both his eyes opened slowly, remembering that you’d spent the night with him. His golden hues focused in on your sleeping face beside him. He loved moments like these, waking up with you beside him —even though he had to leave you. It always made his heart swell with warmth.

Once he lazily picked himself out of bed, careful not to wake you, he sent a few sturdy feathers to collect the fallen ones he’d littered on the floor and to dispose of them. He gave you one last look with a satisfied huff and a genuinely loving smile. His light footsteps padded against the hardwood floors as he went to his closet and began to dress for the day, leaving his pants undone so he could take a leak before he left. He slipped into the bathroom and out of habit sparred a glance at himself in the mirror. His eyes shifted to the toilet until he froze. WAIT—

Hawks jerked back around to the mirror and rushed over to the reflective glass, eyes shrunken and horrified at the rather large white bump that protruded from his skin, an irritated flush of his skin surrounding the small pore. “No, no, no, no, no. Oh fuck, shit, what the hell is that?!” His bare hands rose to gently poke and run his finger along the pus filled pore. He winced at the touch and pain that swelled around his cheek. The dashingly handsome hero had no idea what was now stuck on his face, blemishing his sex appeal and pride.

In a fit of panic he flew to your side and shook you gently awake. “(Y/N). (Y/N) wake up! I need your help!” You stirred and groaned in exhaustion, cracking your eyes open to see your lover with a panicked expression. “Mmm... what’s wrong Keigo?” Your voice was groggy and tired, laced with drowsiness as your body threatened to lull you back to sleep. “There’s something on my face, I-I don’t know what it is. Can you help me cover it up?” Your brows knit together at the urgency in his voice. Why was he freaking out about some cut on his face? He got small scratches all the time. “Keigo it’s just a scratch. Just put a band-aid-“ “ITS WHITE. It’s not a scratch!”

Your eyes opened in confusion and the instant you saw his face your pupils narrowed in on the irritated red patch of skin that dawned his right cheek about an inch or two away from the corner of his lips. “Keigo that’s a pimple. It’s norma-“ “A PIMPLE?!?!” His loud shouting instantly woke you up, and your ears rung in slight irritation at the unexpected squawking. He was urgently pointing towards the small pus head, anxiously awaiting your assistance. “Don’t yell babe... it’s not that big of a deal, everyone gets them-“ “I’m the number two hero, I’m a model, I cannot have some... some white thing on my face!! What’re people gonna think? That I’m dirty? Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Never before have you seen Hawks so upset about something so small as a pimple. He did pride himself on his looks. He spent hours preening his feathers to have them look their best for the public to keep up his flashy reputation. He knows he looks good. Was this an insecurity seeping through?

“Should I pop it? Will that get rid of it?” He rose his hands up, ready to do the deed himself without hearing an answer. “No Keigo. That’s the worst thing to do. I know it’s tempting but you just need to clean your face and put some ointment on it.” “Can you buy it for me?” It was cute seeing Hawks so insecure about a pimple. Every gets them at least once in their life, it happens, but you’ve never seen someone freak out as much as Hawks over ONE pimple. “Sure babe, I’ll get you some. But you need to calm down, it’s not that bad-“ “I’m so ugly.” “...yes Hawks one pimple makes you the ugliest man in the world.” “...really...?” His wings dropped, looking at his reflection in horror and sadness. “Oh my god no. I was just kidding Keigo.”

“Don’t play with me like that. This is serious.” “And I’m serious when I tell you it’s gonna be okay and you need to calm down.” He still had a frantic look in his golden eyes once you told him to relax. He nodded and continued to eye the blemish in anger, hoping it would vanish if he glared at it enough. “Tell you what babe, let’s put a little bandaid over it with some Neosporin and you can just say got a little scratch from a fight with a villain. Sound good?” “You’re so smart, love bird. How did I get so damn lucky, or were you the lucky one? It’s always debatable huh?”

Once he was patched up and covered, he finished getting ready and kissed you goodbye, leaving through the balcony window. He ascended to the skies, wind bursting against his face and sweeping his hair back. His mind was still on the pimple that graced his handsome face. He brought his hand up and scratched his chin in thought. As soon as he got to his agency, he would look up all the fastest ways to get rid of a pimple.

“Hey love bird, did ya get the ointment?” “Yep, got it right in the cart.” Your eyes cast down to the ointment resting in the temporarily empty cart awaiting to be filled with groceries. “So I was thinking about what we should have for dinner tonight-“ “Can you pick up a few more things?” Your brows furrowed. “Like what?” “Face masks, face scrub, moisturizer, clay masks, oh! Get the charcoal ones too I heard those fuckin’ hurt but work good! Foam wash, some skin oil, sunscreen-“ “Keigo are you serious... baby that’s so much. It’s just one pim-“ “Sorry love bird, I gotta go, just use the black card okay? Love ya!” He hung up...

You did as he instructed and bought a lot of skin care products for him, along with some packs of chicken and some of his Georgia WAX coffee. Once you got home and put everything away, you started on dinner. It was rare if Hawks even got home on time, but you always made him some for him to heat up —if he didn’t get take out. To your surprise he came home quite earlier. “Hey love bird! Did ya get my stuff?” “Yeah, it’s all in the bathroom, babe.” “Hair clips?” “I already had some Bobby pins.” “You’re the best.”

When he emerged from the bathroom he had a charcoal face mask on, the messily long strands of blonde hair usually sticking up pinned down to his head and away from his face. You couldn’t help but laugh at the silly look on his face and the avoidance of his “manly” patch of scruff on his chin. “Were you worried it would take off your little beard?” “.....yes.” “I wish you’d shave, I hate it.” “Wh-What?! I thought you liked it!” “It looks like pubes on your face.” His face paled, well, as much as you could see. “Baby I’m kidding.” “Oh-“ he sighed in relief. “I was about to say there, you weren’t complainin’ when I ate you out last ni-“ “KEIGO!!!” He laughed at your embarrassment.

After dinner Hawks finally took his face mask off... or well he tried to. He was whining like a baby at how much it hurt. “Ow! Ow! Fuck! Why does it hurt so much?!” “You told me to buy it, you knew the charcoal one was gonna hurt you birdbrain!” “It said it would get rid of it fast!” “Who’s fault is that for telling me to buy it!” “It’s the internet’s fault for tellin’ me it worked fast!” Eventually you ripped the mask from his face and stared at all the tiny hairs and unnoticeable pores. “Hey look, it-“ you looked up at him and stopped once you saw his flushed red face. “Babe you okay?” “I can’t feel my face. Do I still have eyebrows?” You burst out laughing. “Yes Kei’.” “What about my scruff?” “Nope, gone.” “Liar.”

Afterwards you both put on some face masks and lathered each other up in some lotion in a very comforting way, not sexually, although he made some very sly comments that teetered on the edge. Against your wishes, you both ate some chips on the couch watching TV with Hawks shouting and throwing chips. “WHAT THE FUCK!!! THEY CANT KILL HIM OFF LIKE THAT!!!!” “BABE ITS A SHOW!” “ITS MY FAVORITE SHOW HE WAS MY FAVORITE CAUSE HE WAS HOT LIKE ME!!!” You rolled your eyes and sighed heavily at his cute childish antics. His eyes moved over to you, a small smile pulling at his lips.

“I love you, birdie.” Your cheeks flushed. “I love you too...” “Ah, after three years of dating, a year and a half of livin’ together, and you’re still embarrassed with me tellin’ you I love you? We’ve done worse ya know~” “Shut up. You’re... never around much anymore, and it always makes me happy when we spend time together, but... confessing your feelings... it’s a different kind of happiness all together. Words can’t explain how much your words mean to me.” His expression turned sullen. “(Y/N)...” “And I know it’s cheesy, it’s stupid, but... it’s how I feel... knowing you still love me even when we’ve been apart for so long... I love you, Keigo. Whether you have a pimple or not.” He frowned, eyes narrowing. “You ruined it.” “Really? Damn. Nothing gets past you does it?” You both shared in playful laughter until the masks were ready to come off.

The next day his skin was clear, surprisingly, perfect and smooth with the exception of his patch of scruff. He had taken a day off work, which was a bit odd but, heroes need a break too I guess? “Mmm... good mornin’ birdie~” His deep morning voice rumbled against your ear, shaking your core and making a small tingle twinge in the dark pits of your stomach. “M-Morning.” His lips littered the side of your jaw and down your shoulder. “Are you ready for our fun day off, love bird?” “Yeah, I’m uh... pretty excited.” “Oh yeah? Well...” His hand slowly slipped down your night gown, trailing his fingers sneakily to the hem while shifting his fingers up. He pressed into your skin to slip a hand into your panties, but you quickly stopped his hand. “Later.” “Whyyyy?” He whined. “Unlike you, I have work.” “Oh don’t worry! I already called ‘em and them ‘em you were spendin’ a day off with me for... personal reasons.” “........” “I-I love you...?”

Hawks still ended up being cock-blocked that morning, but he was awarded some juicy chicken with a side of pancakes. The morning was full of playful banter, loving gazes, and small kisses. “I booked us a massage today.” “Oh really? When’d you do that?” “Yesterday after I called your work.” “They let you have an appointment last notice?” He laughed. “I am the number two hero, and there are some benefits to being the most popular and handsome man in Japan.” “I think Best Jeanist tops you.” “Why must you always be so mean to me, Birdie.” “I’m mean cause I love you.” “That’s not how that works.” “...” “...” “Keigo.” “I know, I know, we won’t talk about it.” He’s playfully mean and teasing because he loves you too.

Later that afternoon you arrive at the spa and everyone is gawking at Hawks. Who wouldn’t? He is the most handsome man in Japan like he said. Oh, let’s not forget the glares some of his fangirls gave you, it never failed to make you a bit uncomfortable. “Hey there, we’ve got an appointment for two, a couples massage.” “Oh! Y-Yes Hawks everything is ready for you!” “Ah! Great! Thank you sweets~” He cooes out and sends the lady a friendly wink as she left. His slung his arm protectively around your waist and he kissed your cheek. You pouted. “It’s unbelievable what you can do with your charm.” “Tell me about it! I get a lotta free stuff; discounts, free reservations. All that stuff, comes with being so popular, ain’t that right?” “Fuck off.”

The massage was wonderful, absolutely amazing. It took a lot of the stress off your shoulders and gave you a bit of time to just relax and think about nothing. Your mind was blank, enjoying the silence and feel of someone else’s hands just rubbing the pain and stress away. There was also a very fashionable and professional facial. It was then you realized it. “Hawks, did you book these massages just to get the facial for your skin?” “Well yeah, how else am I gonna keep the pores away?” “You do realize I bought you like- tons of stuff for home right?” “Yeah! But this is more relaxing dont’cha think?” “Well... yeah but-“ “Just hush and enjoy the massage love bird.”

You were going to kill him. Bury him six feet under, you wouldn’t even attend his funeral. He wouldn’t even have a funeral you’d hide the body so well. The massage and the facial Hawks had booked cost way over $2K dollars. But with Hawks and his grade A flirting and charm, the price was knocking back to just $1.95K on the bright side... he saved you $500. Even though he paid. “Hawks why did you book such an expensive massage!” “Well, I really wanted the facial but I got more for the bundle, so I just went with that and decided to relax! You can’t tell me you didn’t like it, love bird.” “Of course I liked it, but just don’t spend SO MUCH money. All this over one pimple!” His face flushed. “Keep it down-“ you burst into fits of laughter at his embarrassment, you couldn’t help it.

He wore face masks everyday after the pimple incident and lathered up lotion before bed, making him all slick when he cuddled you. It was such a clear insecurity you never knew he would have, it was honestly very cute. At dinner when he finally returned home, he heaved a heavy sigh of exhaustion. “I’m home love bird.” He called out with a smile. You approached him immediately with his little face mask and gently pinned his bangs back, putting the cool moistened mask onto his smooth face. “Oh? What’s this? Givin’ me some special treatment tonight? What’d I do?”

“You’ve been freaking out the past couple days, so I figured I’d help you out just a bit.” A smile spread over your lips as you helped him out of his hero jacket, leading him down the hall to the bedroom. He laid his head against your lap, wings nudging your knees on either side of you while he laid on the bed calmly. “Thank you love bird...” “You don’t need to thank me, Keigo. And just so you know...” You leaned down and gently pecked his lips, giving him a sweet upside down kiss. “I love you cause you’re you, not because of your looks. It doesn’t matter if you’re covered in thousands of scars and pimples or whatever! As long as you’re my birdie...” His wings fluffed up, eyes going wide. “I’ll love you forever, my avian mate.” It was silent until he spoke up in a very flustered tone.

“...” “...” “Can we fuck?” “You ruined it, Keigo. You ruined it.”

[thebountyfucker]

Tainting the Righteous

18 + ONLY - NSFW

demon!Embo/priest!Cad/AFAB!Reader

Tags: religion, demonic possession (some dubcon elements), PiV sex, two cocks in a pussy, anal sex, I know nothing about priests, spanking

Here's a link to my masterpost.

“So what do you want to watch tonight?” It seemed like an odd question to ask a millennia old demon, and yet, this wasn’t the weirdest thing you had asked. You turned to see Embo sitting on the couch, his wings folded neatly behind him and his tail laid across his lap. He blinked, his hand buried in the freshly made popcorn. “We have horror flicks or rom-coms.”

“Horror seems… a bit ironic, yes?” He snorted, before gesturing for you to hand him the holomovies. He parsed through the titles, before handing you one.

“Dawn of the Damned, again?” You rolled your eyes as you extracted the film from the case.

“It is funny.” He shoveled a mouthful of popcorn into his mouth. You weren’t sure what good eating did for him - as you weren’t entirely sure he had a corporeal form. But he seemed to enjoy popcorn, oddly enough.

“Yeah. I’m not surprised you’d find this funny.” You put the film chip into the player, and eased down onto the couch. You reached for the popcorn, but he pulled the bowl away from you. “Hey, don’t be greedy now.”

He relented, but only barely. The lights dimmed of their own accord and the title image appeared on screen. You went to take a handful of popcorn, before a knock on the door interrupted you. You cursed and scrambled up.

“Make yourself scarce.” You tried shooing him off, but rather than physically moving, he just possessed you again. You cursed as you stumbled toward the door and then stopped to smooth out your pajamas. You opened the door and your heart sank to the floor.

“F-Father Cad! I… I wasn’t expecting you!” You stuttered, your gaze meeting with that of the Father of your parish. He tipped his hat to you, and his red gaze met yours.

“Hello dere… I’m just here t’ check in on ya.” He drawled in that thick accent of his, and he reached out to touch your shoulder. Embo did not seem to like this, but you ignored him. “Ya haven’t come t’ church in a few weeks.”

“Oh…” You had tried, but Embo couldn’t enter a church without a good deal of pain. You bit your lip, trying to come up with a quick excuse. “I… haven’t been feeling well, is all.”

“I see… wouldja like me to pray over you, darlin’?”

No! No prayers! Do not even think about it!

You shook your head at this, noting the slight quirk of Cad’s browridge. “I’m getting better, thank you.”

There was a pause as Cad’s glance extended over the entirety of your apartment; he clasped his hands behind his back.

“Darlin’.... There is another reason I was called.”

“Oh?” The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, and you had this sinking feeling that things were about to go wrong. You glanced around the room nervously, trying to see if there was anything that could reveal Embo’s presence to him. The last thing you needed was for Cad to try to exorcise you.

“Yer neighbors called… dey were worried about de noises comin’ out o’ here at night. Happen t’ know what dey’re talkin’ ‘bout?”

“N-no, father.” You lied. Embo had an affinity for fucking the hell out of you at night, and you were sure those noises were quite alarming. But it was only sex. There wasn’t much demonic screaming or anything… most of the time.

“Dey say yer speakin’ in tongues… and dat you aren’t alone. Dey swear they can see a winged silhouette through the curtains. Darlin’, is dere a demon livin’ here?” He asked, his tone low and deadly serious. You frantically shook your head as he backed you further into the room.

“Th-that’s absurd, father! Have you ever heard of such a th-.” Your butt hit the arm of the couch, startling you from your thoughts.

“I sense an evil in this house, darlin’.” He pressed closer, his gaze meeting yours; his eyes glowed, betraying how concerned. “Is dere a demon?”

You paused, before slowly nodding. Cad shook his head at this.

“And how did dat happen?”

“My friends summoned him.” You muttered. “He… decided to attach to me. My - uh friends got the worse end of the deal, though.”

“Are dey dead?” You nodded. “Where are dey buried?”

“Backyard. I didn’t… it wasn’t me. And it wasn’t Embo, either.”

“You named de demon?” He frowned at this.

“No! That’s his name! If I had named him, I would have chosen something cooler - like Aziphandel.” Your hand, of its own accord, smacked your cheek. You winced and rubbed your cheek with your other hand. “Hey! Don’t be a cunt!”

Cad moved back for a moment, scratching his chin. “When dey told me ya had a demon here, I wasn’t expecting dem to be tellin’ de truth…”

“Well, I wasn’t expecting to get possessed and yet here we are.” You shrugged as Cad shoved a hand into his pocket. He rustled around, before producing a hand-held holy book. Your body recoiled, falling backward onto the couch cushions. Cad pressed the holy book toward you, and you scrambled to the other end of the couch, trying to get as far away from it as possible. Embo was chattering what you could only assume were demonic curses in your head.

Cad reached out with his other hand, planting it on the center of your forehead. He closed his eyes, and began to chant.

"Adjure te, spiritus nequissime, per Deum omnipotentem."

Stop him!

"Adjure te, spiritus nequissime, per Deum omnipotentem."

STOP HIM! Embo howled in your mind, before suddenly being wrenched out of it. When you opened your eyes, you spotted Embo standing on the other end of the couch, his fangs bared and his wings spread open as if to make himself look bigger. Cad’s eyes went wide as he looked the demon up and down.

“Well, dis is a first.”

“Embo’s harmless, he really is.” You tried to advocate for him, though Cad didn’t seem interested in listening. “He just fucks me and we hang out, ya know…”

“Yer fucking a demon!! No wonder I can’t exorcise him completely!” Cad snapped and Embo replied with a haughty chuckle as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Yer given’ him de energy to stay in dis plane.”

“I can’t help it! He’s good!” You whined as Embo approached, putting his hands on your arms. He pulled you back into his body, and you moaned.

“I am good, Father. I get her screaming all night long.” He purred as he nuzzled against your cheek. “Do I not?

“He does.” You replied, your voice quivering as his hands wandered down your body. His hand found your cunt, and he gave it a rub.

“Let us show the ‘good’ Father what fun we have together...”

“Absolutely not. I cannot allow dis-.”

“It is not your domain, Father. It is mine. But good try.” He leaned down, his long, wicked tongue flicking out to lick up your neck. You shivered and moaned, leaning your head to the side to give him better access. Cad shifted uncomfortably. “Your Father has a secret, little toy… I can smell his arousal for you.”

“W-what?” You met Cad’s gaze, shivering as Embo gave your cunt another rub.

“He’s de peddler o’ lies, darlin’. Ignore him.” Cad growled through gritted teeth.

Embo was not so easily dissuaded. With a flick of his hand, your legs were wrenched open; he took a claw and dragged it down your body, ripping apart your pajamas. They peeled away, of their own volition, revealing your naked body to Cad. His eyes went wide, and his mouth hung agape.

“Look at how wet she is, Father.” Embo purred as he drew a claw around your pebbled nipple. You moaned, leaning your head back onto Embo’s shoulder as he lifted you up, keeping you on display for Cad. “Will you not revel in sin with us, Father?”

Cad approached, the expression on his face unreadable; he gestured for you, and Bo was eager to oblige, though you weren’t sure why. Cad took you into his arms, before gingerly setting you down.

“Sit dere, darlin’...”

Before you could object, Cad had rushed at Embo; Embo, seemingly allergic to the priest, stumbled back until Cad had trapped him against the wall. Cad pulled out the holy book again, but Embo responded by swatting it away with his tail, hissing at the pain it caused him.

“You are embarrassing yourself, father. Besides, your secret is out. Your intentions with her are just as sinful as mine.” He chuckled, his jovial countenance immediately changing when Cad thrust a hand out and wrapped it around Embo’s neck. You weren’t sure how effective it was - mainly, you weren’t sure if Embo actually had to breathe - but the gesture seemed to surprise the demon all the same.

“Let’s make a deal, demon.”

“You know that is dangerous.” Embo smirked, and Cad’s grip tightened. Despite the fact that you knew Embo was strong enough to throw Cad off, he didn’t. Maybe Cad’s holiness was just strong enough to neutralize Embo’s hellish energy.

“What will it take fer ya t’ leave her alone? I’ll do anythin’.”

“Anything?” Embo cocked a browridge at this. “Well, then… I have the perfect solution.”

“Out wit’ it.”

“I think a threesome would suffice.” He looked over Cad’s shoulder at you and winked. “What do you think, little toy?”

You nodded eagerly. Your cunt was throbbing, begging for penetration and drooling at the prospect of getting it. Your nipples were pebbled from the attention you gave them while the two were negotiating. Cad’s gaze flicked down your form, and he swallowed hard.

“You’ll leave ‘er alone after dat?”

“You have my word.” Embo hummed, before sending you a wink. You smiled as Cad shook his head and sighed.

“Fine.”

“Brilliant.” Embo pushed him off and appeared beside you, slicking his finger between the lips of your cunt. He was careful with his claws, having learned prior that they could seriously damage you (you decided after that incident that fingering was off-limits). His tongue flicked out to lick at your neck as he spread your slick around your cunt, and along your thighs.

You glanced over at Cad, watching as he pulled off his clerical collar and set it aside. He was shaking his head, grumbling under his breath about how wrong this was. You knew for a fact, however, that Father Cad was not as holy and innocent as he claimed. The confessional booth had seen its share of sin… perhaps it was fucking you alongside a demon that was the problem.

Embo vanished for a moment, and you were lifted into the air long enough for him to appear beneath you. You nestled in his lap, moaning as he instantaneously bottomed out within you. The heat of his cock, once unbearable, was oddly arousing inside you. Maybe you were just cock-whipped… either way, he felt damn near incredible in you.

You watched as Cad pulled off his shirt, then his pants, casting glances over at the two of you as Embo slowly rocked his hips. When Cad was naked, you noticed that he was already rock hard. So Embo wasn’t lying… you wondered, then, if Cad actually thought the reports of demons were mere lunacy, and he was using them as a way to get in your pants. If that was the case, you supposed he was getting his wish.

He tentatively approached, watching as Embo drew his claws along your shoulder, digging in hard enough to draw blood. He chattered in his ancient tongue as he licked up the beads of blood trailing down your skin. He jacked his hips up into you harder.

“Where do ya want me?” Cad asked, finally coming to stand before you.

“Cunt.” Your voice said, though it was not truly you who said it. Cad shot Embo a glare.

“Don’t do dat.”

“He’s… he’s not wrong.” You told Cad. “There’s… there’s plenty of room. I want… I want it.”

Cad blinked, and Embo reached out, locking his hand around Cad’s wrist; Embo’s eyes glowed. “Come on, Father… do it.”

“Yer powers of suggestion don’t work on me, hellspawn.” He growled, yanking his arm away. He bared his teeth at Embo, but Embo didn’t seem to care. “I’m gettin’ t’ it, ‘kay?”

Cad knelt down, slipping a finger into your already-occupied cunt. You gasped as you stretched to accommodate it, and Cad hummed.

“Are ya sure, darlin’?”

“Please, Father! Please!”’

“Alright, alright…” He gave his cock a few pumps, before probing at your cunt with the head of his cock. You cried out and Embo hissed as his cock slipped inside, stretching you out farther than you had stretched before. Embo’s pace didn’t relent as Cad eased in, one inch at a time. You whimpered, reaching for Cad, and he leaned down to let you wrap your arms around his neck.

“F-Father…. Oh God!” You cried out. You kissed him passionately; he kissed you back without hesitation, his tongue slipping into your mouth and tangling with yours. He sheathed himself within you completely, and you whimpered against his lips. You were completely stuffed. Cad’s hands tangled in your hair as Embo gripped your chest. “Fuck me! Fuck me!”

Slowly, Cad began to thrust, matching Embo’s tempo; Cad moaned at the sensation, and leaned down to kiss you again. Embo just growled.

They fucked into your cunt, their hands wandering over your form. Ecstasy shot through your body, building the delicious tension of orgasm within you. You whimpered, opening your mouth to try to tell them, but found that your voice wouldn’t come out. You reached up to touch your neck, only to feel a hand… which made five hands on your body. No… wait… six. Seven? You glanced down, not seeing any more hands than the four that were supposed to be there. But you could feel them probing at your asshole and gripping your thighs and tracing your clit. You rolled your head back, glancing at Embo, who offered you another wink.

“Go on now… cum.” His voice rang out in your head. You cried out, your cry rising in pitch and volume as your walls clenched around them. The fire in your belly spilled over, flooding every nerve with euphoria. You slumped back against Embo, your body limp and your vision black.

Cad and Embo continued to fuck into you until you came to. When feeling returned to your body, Cad pulled out, his cock still hard and yearning.

“Dere… happy now?”

“Oh no, dear Father… we are not done yet.” Embo chuckled as his body merged with yours, possessing you again as he had some many times now. He shoved your consciousness to the side, allowing you to feel everything without being able to take control.

“This is what you desire, yes? Shall we both take his cock?”

“Yes.” You moaned, and he chuckled.

“Good little toy.”

You - but not really you - reached out to take Cad’s cock into your hand. You gave it a long, slow stroke, reveling in the feeling of your slick as it lubed up his cock. You gave it a teasing lick, before moving toward the couch and shoving your ass into the air.

“Fuck my ass, Father.” It was your voice but… not. Cad could tell this, and he growled.

“I ain’t fuckin’ ya. I’m fuckin’ her.”

“We are one in the same now, Father. She can feel it. She wants it too.” You purred, wiggling your ass. Cad brought a heavy hand down on an asscheek, and you lurched forward with a yelp.

“Keep yer mouth shut. Got it?”

“Yes, Father.”

Cad drew the head of his cock around your asshole; you weren’t sure how, but you felt yourself getting lubed up as he did so. Then, he pressed in. At the same time, you felt your cunt stretch around some noncorporeal cock.

“Fuck!!” You cried out in your mind. Soon, you had taken Cad to the hilt, and he hissed.

“Yer so tight, darlin’.”

“Yes, Father, yes! Fuck me!” You cried out and Cad was happy to oblige, jacking his hips into you at a rough, slow pace. The non-corporeal cock in your cunt started moving as well, thrusting much faster. The two cocks rubbed against the sensitive wall of flesh separating your ass from your cunt, and you let out a howl. Cad cursed, seemingly able to feel the other cock as well.

Your hand went to your clit, rubbing circled on the sensitive bud. The sensations were more than you could keep up with. Your head was spinning. Spikes of pleasure shot to your cunt, which, in turn, caused the warm to bubble in your belly. Your entire body shook, alight with arousal.

Cad smacked your ass. The non-corporeal form smacked your clit. Cad gripped your asscheeks in your hands. The non-corporeal form pinched your nipples.

Finally, Cad’s pace grew erratic. Yours did too. Cad gave it a few more thrusts, before grinding his hips against your ass. He came, filling your ass up with his warm, sticky cum. You felt cum shoot into your cunt as well, and that did you in. With a howl, you orgasmed, your body arching in a way that was unnatural, your eyes rolling back. You chanted in ancient tongues. And you squirted, over and over again, soaking your couch and Cad with your fluids. Fireworks burst in your head as ecstasy coursed through your veins.

When you came to, Cad was stroking your cheek. “Good girl…”

Embo extracted himself from you, and appeared nearby. Cad glanced over at him, eyeing him with much less malice than before.

“You gonna keep yer word?”

“Absolutely not.” Embo chuckled as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You cannot tell me that you believed a lord of the dark. Lying is sort of our thing.”

“No… I didn’t believe you’d keep your word.” Cad shook his head, and you sat up. Cad glanced over, his gaze full of mischief. “How much longer until you can go again?”

“How about now?” You replied, reaching out so Embo could join with you again.

[carryonmywaywardcaptain]

Everything’s a Seger Song

CarryOnCap’s Masterlist

Summary: On a night out at the bar, you try to convince Dean to do karaoke. He ends up putting on a performance you never would have imagined.

Warnings: FLUFF (Karaoke, but without the drunken shenanigans. Sorry, friends!); wingman Sammy :)

A/N: Apparently I have an obsession with drunk Winchester shenanigans and karaoke? Stay tuned because I’m seriously considering making a masterlist for such fics. lol 

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Y/N, I’m not gonna freaking--”

“Please, Dean?” you cut him off and pressed your hands together, begging him to give karaoke a shot. “I promise it’s so much more fun than it looks. And you’re the one who wanted a night out with me and Sammy--karaoke in front of a bunch of drunk strangers is a non-negotiable right of passage.”

Dean cocked an eyebrow and shook his head as he looked at Sam.

“She’s got a point,” he agreed, pushing himself up from his stool. “Be right back. Anybody need another?”

You and Dean each raised a hand, turning your attention back to one another as Sam disappeared into the crowd.

“I don’t sing,” Dean said, tipping his head back to finish off the rest of his beer.

“You don’t have to be good,” you tried again. “It’s just for fun! And the fact that it’s in front of strangers means you’ll never see any of them again.”

“Well, I’m not drunk enough for that.”

“I can fix that,” you grinned.

"Still not happening, sweetheart.”

Sam was back at the table in no time at all, wordlessly taking a seat as he looked between the two of you. 

“Dude, what the hell?” Dean waved his arms and motioned at the empty space in front of his brother.

“What?” Sam asked.

“I thought you were going to get more drinks.”

“Oh, right. Plans changed,” he smirked, taking a drink as he peeked at you over his bottle.

“What the hell does that mean?” Dean asked.

Sam ignored him, turning his attention to the stage when the audience began applauding an older gentleman who had just finished a very off-key performance of Fly Me to the Moon. The three of you joined in on the applause, even though you’d tuned him out before he even made it through the first chorus. 

Another man appeared onstage and glanced at his a clipboard before addressing the bar. “Alright, looks like next up we have a, uh...Dean Winchester doing Bob Seger’s ‘Living Inside My Heart.’“

The crowd cheered and Dean’s face went pale as Sam doubled over laughing. Dean grimaced, slouching in his seat while adamantly refusing to go up to the mic.

“Dean Winchester? You still out there somewhere?” The man called again.

“He’s over here!” Sam yelled, standing and pointing at Dean. 

When he made no attempts to move, the crowd began chanting “Get up there” and you couldn’t help but join in.

“Sammy, I’m gonna kill you,” he groaned, finally rising from his seat.

“Hey, man--you said everything’s a Seger song to you. Now here’s a real test for that. I think you’ll thank me for the song choice later.”

Dean shook his head, keeping his eyes on the floor as he slowly trudged toward the stage. He climbed the steps, staring out at the crowd with a timid, forced smile. In all the time you’d known him, you’d never seen Dean so nervous.

Wrapping one hand around the stand, he carefully adjusted microphone so that it was level with his mouth. The sound of a piano and a periodic drumbeat filled the speakers. After several seconds, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and began to sing.

When the sun came up this morning

And she smiled her smile for me

I felt it for the first time

Something deep inside of me

Unable to help your gaping reaction, you whipped your head toward Sam with wide eyes. Instead of the same shocked expression you wore, his wide grin told you that he was well aware of his brother’s talent. 

Of all the times you and the boys had cranked the volume and sung along in the car, you’d never had any idea that Dean could sing like this. His voice was deep, rich, and bluesy-- captivating everyone in the room with his heartfelt rendition.

So you can take your midnight ramblin' boys

And you can keep your winding roads

She's livin' inside my heart now

Livin' inside

As he surveyed the crowd, you could visibly see him growing more comfortable with each lyric he belted out. 

A table of people who appeared to be college-age raised their glasses, swaying back and forth and bobbing their heads with the beat. They had clearly had a lot to drink, but that didn’t change how deeply his performance was affecting them. How the entire audience seemed to revere every note.

When his green eyes met yours, something in his gaze made it impossible for you to look away.

Oh there's an easiness about her

There's a softness in her way

But she gets me through the hard times

We get closer everyday

I know I'll never be alone now boys

Cause even if I'm far away

She's livin' inside my heart now

Livin' inside

Yeah

The words stirred butterflies in your stomach. 

You and Dean had always flirted with one another, having some unspoken bond that was much deeper than friendship. Both of you knew it, but neither had acted on it for fear of how things might change between you. 

But there was something undeniably intimate about the way he was looking at you as he sang. Something that made you feel like each lyric served as a sincere admission from him. 

And I don't know what I did to deserve her

But I'll tell you this my friend

I'm never gonna lose her

Never gonna lose her

Cause every night...

You felt the crowd’s eyes on you as they began to pick up on the exchange between you and Dean, but you didn’t care. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you choked back the emotions swelling inside of you.

As his song drew to a close and he delivered the last few lines, everyone in the bar rose to their feet to give him a standing ovation. You and Sam cheered the loudest, earning a bright smile from him that was vastly different from the apprehensive expression he wore when he began.

“So...you signed Dean up?” you asked Sam slowly.

“Yep.”

“And you knew he could sing...like that?”

“Sure did.”

You pursed your lips and stole a glance at Dean, who had walked off the stage and was slowly making his way through the bar. You watched as he shook hands and thanked each person who approached him before you turned to Sam with one last question.

“And the song?”

“That was on purpose too.” He grinned at you and winked before nodding toward his brother. “Now go get that Travelin’ Man.”

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[oldmanatom]

A Locked Tomb Fanmix But It’s All Classic Country

this exists entirely because one night the thought “but what if i made a Locked Tomb fanmix with only classic country songs” popped into my head, unprompted, and i thought it was too hilarious to not do.

the art on the cover is done by @starfleetofficial​​, who this mix is also dedicated to. thank you for recommending me these books, continuously “yes, and”ing my semi-coherent TLT messages sent at 5 in the morning, and being so supportive about this idea. (also check out her version, A HtN fanmix but it’s all Fiona Apple!) the cover design is referencing the famous Marty Robbins album, Gunfighter Ballads and Trail Songs.

my one listening note: this will probably be more enjoyable if it’s approached with an open mind and an expectation that it’s taking itself about as seriously as the official fanmixes do.

see below the cut for a song list and some lyric excerpts.

this mix has implicit spoilers for both Gideon the Ninth and Harrow the Ninth.

Gideon the Ninth mix: youtube / spotify / full res cover Harrow the Ninth mix: youtube / spotify / full res cover full mix: youtube / spotify / full res cover

Gideon the Ninth:

1. Johnny Paycheck, “Take This Job And Shove It”

You better not try to stand in my way 'Cause I'm walkin' out the door Take this job and shove it I ain't working here no more

2. Dolly Parton, “When Someone Wants To Leave”

It's a sad situation I must say When someone wants to leave as bad as you want them to stay

3. Loretta Lynn, “I’m A Gettin’ Ready To Go”

I'm gonna praise my savior's name everyday that I'm livin' Glory hallelujah I'm not ashamed to let my salvation show This old world's just my dressin' room and I'm a gettin' ready to go

4. Waylon Jennings, “I Ain’t Living Long Like This”

I tried to run but I don't think I can You make one move and you're a dead man friend Ain't living long like this Can't live at all like this, can I baby?

5. Loretta Lynn, “This Haunted House”

This haunted house I'm livin' in is killing me And the ghost of your love won't set me free Each morning finds me crying and alone In this haunted house we used to call our home

6. Loretta Lynn and Conway Twitty, “After The Fire Is Gone”

We know it's wrong for us to meet But the fire's gone out at home And there's nothin' cold as ashes After the fire is gone

7. Loretta Lynn, “How Long Will It Take”

(How long will it take?) How long will it take to make you want me How much longer has this old heart gotta break (How long will it take?) How long will it take to make you need me I keep a waitin' and a wonderin' how long will it take

8. Stonewall Jackson, “Don’t Be Angry”

Maybe someday you're gonna hurt me I've been hurt in love before Only God can know And time alone will tell

9. Dick Curless, “A Tombstone Every Mile”

It's a stretch of road up north in Maine That's never ever ever seen a smile If they'd buried all them truckers lost in them woods There'd be a tombstone every mile

10. Johnny Paycheck, “(It Won’t Be Long) And I’ll Be Hating You”

Lately life with you has been unbearable All my faith in you has gone and I know it won't return I did everything to make you happy I could do Now you've gotten me hatin' things I used to love to do And it won't be long and I'll be hatin' you

11. Norma Jean, “Let’s Go All The Way”

All the way means happiness living side by side Halfway means a heartbreak if one of us should lie Just give me a clue that you love me too Hold me in your arms and say “Oh, let’s go all the way”

12. Loretta Lynn, “Everybody Wants To Go To Heaven”

Everybody wants to go to heaven but nobody wants to die Lord, I wanna go to heaven but I don't wanna die Though I long for the day when I'll have new birth Still I love the livin' here on earth Everybody wants to go to heaven but nobody wants to die

13. Homer & Jethro, “She Made Toothpicks Of The Timber Of My Heart”

She was seasoned, I was green Yes my darling lumber queen Wound me ‘round her finger like a clinging vine

14. Patsy Cline, “The Heart You Break May Be Your Own”

You'll look around and when you've found That you are all alone Then you'll get wise and realize The heart you break may be your own

15. Buck Owens, “I’ve Got A Tiger By The Tail”

Well every night you drag me where the bright lights are found There ain't no way to slow you down I’m as 'bout as helpless as a leaf in a gale And it looks like I've got a tiger by the tail

16. Charley Pride, “All I Have To Offer You (Is Me)”

Before you take another step, there's something you should know About the years ahead and how they'll be You'll be living in a world where roses hardly ever grow 'Cause all I have to offer you is me

17. Faron Young, “Live Fast, Love Hard, Die Young”

I wanna leave a lot of happy women A-thinkin’ pretty thoughts of me I wanna live fast, love hard, die young And leave a beautiful memory

18. Dolly Parton and Porter Wagoner, “The Last Thing On My Mind”

I've got reason a plenty for goin'      This I know, this I know The weeds have been steadily growin'      Please don't go, please don't go

Are you going away with no word of farewell Will there be not a trace left behind I could've loved you better, didn't mean to be unkind You know that was the last thing on my mind

19. Marty Robbins, “The Master’s Call”

I felt the end was near, that death would be the price When a mighty bolt of lightning showed the face of Jesus Christ And I cried “oh Lord forgive me, don't let it happen now I want to live for you alone, oh God these words I vow”

Bridge: Lefty Frizzell, “Long Black Veil”

She walks these hills in a long black veil She visits my grave when the night winds wail Nobody knows, nobody sees Nobody knows but me

Harrow the Ninth:

1. Hank Williams, “I’ll Never Get Out Of This World Alive”

Every thing's against me and it's got me down If I jumped in the river I would probably drown No matter how I struggle and strive I'll never get out of this world alive

2. Dolly Parton, Linda Ronstadt, and Emmylou Harris, “Those Memories Of You”

In dreams of you, my body trembles I wake up and call your name But you're not there, and I'm so lonesome Without your love, I'd go insane

3. Hank Snow, “I Don’t Hurt Anymore”

I don't hurt anymore, all my teardrops are dried No more walking the floor with that burning inside Just to think it could be time has opened the door And at last I am free I don't hurt anymore

4. Patsy Cline, “Stop The World And Let Me Off”

Oh, stop the world and let me off I'm tired of goin' round ‘n' round I played the game of love and lost So stop the world and let me off

5. Charley Pride, “Lie To Me”

Oh, lie to me, say you love me Tell me I mean the world to you It would mean so much, I'd be so happy And it's the least you can do

6. Hank Snow, “Ninety Miles An Hour (Down A Dead End Street)”

Warnin' signs are flashin' by us but we pay no heed Instead of slowin' down the pace we keep picking up the speed Disaster's gettin' closer every time we meet Doin' ninety miles an hour down a dead end street

7. Patsy Cline and the Anita Kerr Singers, “I Can’t Forget”

Where are you, darlin'? Are you with someone new I can't forget you I'll always be loving you

8. Lynn Anderson, “If I Kiss You (Will You Go Away)”

You're so much hurt I wish you wouldn't stay If I kiss you will you go away?

9. Connie Smith, “Once A Day”

Once a day all day long And once a night from dusk till dawn The only time I wish you weren't gone Is once a day, every day, all day long

10. Charley Pride, “Just Between You And Me”

But just between you and me I've got my doubts about it 'Cause just between you and me You're too much to forget

11. Buck Owens, “Hello Trouble”

A comin' up my sidewalk Just as plain as day A well a here come trouble that I never thought I'd see When you went away

12. Loretta Lynn, “Fist City”

You'll bite off more than you can chew If you get too cute or witty You better move your feet if you don't wanna eat A meal that's called Fist City

13. The Davis Sisters, “I Forgot More Than You’ll Ever Know”

You think you know the smile on his lips The thrill at the touch of his fingertips But I've forgotten more Than you'll ever know about him

14. Kitty Wells, “Pick Me Up On Your Way Down” (Charlie Walker’s version is on the Spotify playlist)

When you learn these things are true I'll be waiting here for you As you tumble to the ground Pick me up on your way down

15. Loretta Lynn and Conway Twitty, “You’re The Reason Our Kids Are Ugly”

And that's the reason that my good looks and my figure is gone      And that's the reason I ain't got no hair to comb And you're the reason our kids are ugly, little darling

16. Loretta Lynn, “Who Says God Is Dead”

If I were you I'd kneel and pray 'Cause we're not promised one more day Remember blood was shed Who says God is dead?

17. Patsy Cline and The Jordanaires, “Imagine That”

Can you believe I'd swallow my pride (Well yes, yes, I guess you can) 'Cause you know you've always had my foolish heart Right in the palm of your hand, oh

18. Jody Miller and Johnny Paycheck, “Let’s All Go Down To The River”

Jesus is the man at the river And he's washing people's sins away He can save your soul if you give him control Oh be ready for that judgement day

19. Bobby Bare, “Dropkick Me, Jesus”

Make me, oh, make me, Lord, more than I am Make me a piece in Your master game plan Free from the earthly temptation below I've got the will, Lord, if You got the toe

20. Lynn Anderson, “Heaven’s Just A Sin Away”

Devil's got me now Oh, gone and got me now I can't fight him anyhow I think he's gonna win

Heaven’s just a sin away Oh, just a sin away Heaven help me when I say I think I’m givin’ in

21. Loretta Lynn, “Out Of My Head And Back In My Bed”

I'm gonna search everywhere that you might be When I find you I'm a bringin’ you home with me I want you out of my head And back in my bed Before the morning comes

22. Johnny Cash, “Big River”

Now, won't you batter down by Baton Rouge, River Queen, roll it on Take that woman on down to New Orleans, New Orleans Go on, I've had enough, dump my blues down in the gulf She loves you, Big River, more than me

Now I taught the weeping willow how to cry, cry, cry And I showed the clouds how to cover up a clear blue sky And the tears that I cried for that woman are gonna flood you, Big River And I'm gonna sit right here until I die