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macfrog · 2 months

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sweet child o' mine | pt. iv

to @mrsmando - without whom this insane story would never have happened in the first place. i love you i love you i love you thank you all so much for coming on this journey with me - it has been a blast. i hope you like where we turn out! love you guys always n forever x

pairing: neighbor!joel x fem!reader

summary: you're a mom. it's time to get your shit together.

warnings: bon jovi mention straight out the gate, labor/delivery [i have never given birth. those of you who have are nothing short of remarkable. please forgive if some of this is a little inaccurate or vague], use of pain medication during birth, description of pain and post-birth recovery, super emotional reader, unprotected piv, oral, alcohol consumption. DISCLAIMER: this series covers some issues which i know may be sensitive and possibly triggering to some. warnings will always be as thorough as possible, but if there’s ever anything you feel i’ve missed, please let me know. feel free to drop by my inbox anytime.

word count: 12k

pt. i / series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🩵

It’s September twenty-third.

Well, by now, it’s probably the twenty-fourth. You’ve been a little distracted, rolling between the sheets with your next-door neighbor for the last couple hours.

The wedding’s still going strong downstairs. The same Bon Jovi song has played three times over. Tommy has called Joel to ask where he is so much that Joel’s phone is now switched off and shoved to the bottom of his bag.

You’re slouched on the toilet in a sliver of moonlight. A fistful of tissue, panties loose around your ankles. Rolling your forehead side to side along the cool tile, heartbeat hammering between your temples.

Joel Miller – Joel fucking Miller – is in your bed. Naked, sweating, cock probably still half-hard.

This morning, the very idea of the man was an eyeroll. Stood in your mirror, promising yourself that this time tomorrow, it’ll all be over with.

This time in a month, it’ll be a foggy memory.

This time in a year, it –

His voice is muffled through the bathroom door. “Did you fall in, or somethin’?”

You snort. The milky moon blurs across your vision when you pull yourself upright. You swipe between your legs and stand, flushing the toilet.

“I needed a fucking breather,” you tease, tiptoeing back across the room.

Joel’s stretched out; a worked arm draped along the headboard. Sun-kissed to the middle of his bicep, paler across his shoulder. One leg bare on the mattress, the other under the sheets. They only just cover his modesty – dark hair trailing beneath light silk just in time.

He’s so big. It’s like you never really noticed until now. He takes up half the bed, laying like this. And sure, you’re halfway to fucked, but – has he always been so handsome?

You flop down beside him with a sigh, curling up in the burrow of sheets at his side. Your eyes trail up his body – the sheen of sweat up his side, the dark, damp hair under his arm. All the parts of him you’ve never seen before, will never see again.

You gulp. Quit fucking staring.

He doesn’t notice, anyway. He’s rubbing circles into his temples, grumbling. “How many goddamn times are they gonna play It’s My Life?”

“…for Tommy and Gina…” you nudge him, “…who never backed down…”

Joel chuckles, pulling his hand down his beard. “Twenty bucks says he’s changing that to Maria.”

“Oh, for sure. I ain’t going back down to listen to it, though.”

He hums in agreement, reaching over for his beer. His Adam’s apple bobs as he drinks.

“You owe me, by the way. This is my room, remember? My fucking minibar.”

He pauses, the bottle against his bottom lip. His eyes linger south of your chin before he answers, “I’m paying for the damn room.”

“Then I want a drink from yours. Make it even.”

He clicks his teeth and drinks again. “It’s one beer. Call it an early birthday gift.”

You frown. “When the hell’s your birthday?”

“Tuesday.”

“Bullshit.”

“Serious. The twenty-sixth.”

You push yourself up onto your elbows; chest bare and on display. And it’s a strange feeling, how little you care. Twelve hours ago, you didn’t know how close to sit next to him at the ceremony. How many times you could accidentally bump knees or brush elbows and it not be weird.

But in the last two hours, he’s made you come more times than you can count. More times than anyone you’ve ever been with before – that’s for sure. And you’ve repaid the favor: the proof is still dribbling out of you. Still dripping between your legs, all pearlescent and warm. You’re soaked, swollen, still sore from the size of him.

It’s a fucking strange feeling, that you don’t mind at all.

“How old are you turning?” you ask.

Joel swallows. He settles the beer on his sternum, thumbing the corner of the label. Sucks in a deep breath and says, “Forty-eight.”

“Jesus,” you mutter, eyes wide.

He turns slowly, glaring at you. “Hilarious,” he drawls, bumping the bottle against your tummy.

You hiss at the sudden chill. Wiping cold droplets from your skin, you swipe it from his grasp.

Joel pushes himself from the bed with a quiet groan and pads across the room. His cock sways with each step, an arrowhead of thick hair at its base.

He doesn’t seem to mind, either.

You tip your chin back, taking a hefty swig.

The pulsing bass is heavier, guitar squeal sharper, when he cracks open the window. Cool air sweeps past the scent of sex and settles softly on your skin.

The mattress dips again as Joel settles back into bed. He pulls the sheet over himself, silk falling over the stubborn shape against his thigh.

“Well,” you pass him the bottle, “happy birthday, old man. Here’s to forty-eight.”

“Here’s to forty-eight,” Joel echoes, staring off into space, “and whatever the hell it has in store.”

1:29. 1:29. 1:30.

It’s blurring across your vision. The pain and the panic and the blinking of your fucking alarm clock.

Your stomach is still tensed in the aftermath of the contraction; an ache like the slow sway of the ocean, a wave rolling off into the distance. You’re hunched over the edge of the bed – knee bouncing, palms kneading your round belly.

“We’re okay,” you whisper, blowing into the still night. “We’re fine. Maybe it isn’t labor, right? Maybe it’s just those…Braxton…shit…Hicks.”

The cicadas laugh as your uterus swings again.

Another kick of pain; a bolt that winds you, piercing from your stomach down between your legs. So slow it feels fucking personal.

Your back curls, nails digging into the mattress. You grit your teeth until it passes, then push yourself to your feet, reaching for your phone.

You think of Joel: the flecks of gold in his eyes, the rough surface of his palms. The fresh, woodsy scent woven into every thread on his shirt, seeping from every pore on his skin.

The way he’d pull you under his arm and walk you to his truck. Play more Eagles or whatever shit he has to take your mind off the pain – tell you he knows, he knows as you whimper in agony. The way he’d hold your thigh the entire ride, loosening it only to weave his fingers through yours.

He’s in Houston, though. He’s something like three hours away. There’s nothing he could do, even if you did call – even if he did pick up. Even if he got in his truck right this second.

Shit. Shit fuck shit. How are you in labor right now, on this fucking night? All your teasing, all your taunting the universe. You really think that’s gonna happen? You think your kid’s that much of an asshole?

Yeah. They’re half you.

You’re on your own. It’s nothing new; you’ve been on your own for most of your life. You drove yourself to college, worked your ass off, and sold your graduation guest tickets to your roommate. You found a job by yourself, moved back to Austin and turned it into home by yourself.

You haven’t needed anyone or anything, since you were eighteen.

But – oh, Jesus, fuck it. This was a two-man job from the start. Some things you figure you can let slide – and having a kid seems like a pretty decent excuse.

Fuck it.

You move, hunched and hobbling, to the bathroom door. Slumped against the wooden frame, you cup a hand between your legs.

Sure enough, your underwear is soaked. The fluid trickles down the seam of your thigh, warm and thin. It glistens in the moonlight when you lift your fingers.

“Shit,” you whisper. “Goddamn it, Duck.”

Body tingling and almost numb with pain, you scroll through your contacts to J. You stumble into the bathroom, wet fingers slipping around the sink. A weight begins to pull low between your hips.

Two rings and the tone cuts, his voice instantly spilling a cool comfort down your spine.

There’s no hello, no double checking that you haven’t accidentally dialed him in your sleep. Only that trademark drawl, that flat tone you’d swear sounded bored, if it weren’t for the haste with which Joel asks, “You okay?” the second he answers.

As if he were awake anyway, just waiting for your call.

“Yeah,” you choke, rubbing the nape of your neck. “I just called at one in the morning to…to say hi.”

He sighs, the crackle of breath echoed by the tinkle of wind chimes. The creak of wood as he settles into a chair on Vanessa’s parents’ porch. “Alright, smartass. What is it?”

“I’m…I’m in labor.”

“Mhm. That sure is funny, baby. Good one.”

You groan. “No, Joel, I swear – I swear, I just went into labor.”

He pauses. The chimes titter in the background. “You’re…You ain’t kidding me?”

The sharp peak of pain swipes the air clean from your lungs. The phone hits the sink with a clatter, drowning out your cry.

This kid is beating the ever-loving shit out of you. You’d be embarrassed if you had the energy to think about it.

“Baby?” Joel yells, loud enough that the sound loops around the bowl. His voice lifts to an octave you didn’t know it could reach. “Talk to me. Please, talk to me.”

Your fingers clamp around the phone. “I’m f-fine. It’s fine. I just gotta…gotta change my fuckin’ sheets, Joel, my waters broke while I was sleeping –”

“Oh, Christ,” he growls. The door squeals as he storms back into Vanessa’s family home. “The sh…Change the goddamn sheets? You gotta get to a hospital, darlin’!”

You laugh, head tipping back. “It’s fine,” you tell him. “Feels like the kid’s trying to kill me, but I can – shit, I can take ‘em.”

There’s the jangle of keys, the ruffle of a shirt being thrown over his head. “Yeah?” Joel says.“You can take childbirth, all on your own? Do me a favor and call a damn ambulance, baby.”

“An ambulance,” you repeat, laughing again.

“Yes, an ambulance. Call 9-1-1 right now. You want me to call ‘em? Let me go grab the landline –”

“Joel, do not call an ambulance –”

And if you thought you’d heard him at breaking point before – plucking your underwear from his lawn, dragging you around Home Depot, paling in your room with a pregnancy test in his hands – you know you have, now.

“You gotta get to a goddamn hospital now, baby!”

His voice trembles at its end, quivers like the pluck of a guitar string. A high-pitched echo, a nervous vibration.

Joel’s panicking.

It’s the second thing in less than five minutes that you never knew he could do.

“I can’t afford a f-fucking ambulance, Joel,” you yelp, sitting back on the edge of the bathtub.

“I will pay for it,” he pleads, “I’ll pay. Just – you gotta call them. You gotta…” He sighs again, breath wavering. “You’re in labor, and you’re alone. If anything happened to you, I –”

A hushed voice interrupts him. Follows him through the house, knotting her nightgown around her waist and twisting her dark tresses into a ponytail.

“She’s in labor,” Joel tells her. “I can’t stay. I’m going back for her.”

The porch door slams shut before Vanessa can reply, and Joel’s back outside again. Gravel crunching beneath his boots, crickets screaming in the background. “Still with me?” he asks.

“Still here,” you breathe, tracing your nails along your leg. “Duckie says hi, I guess.”

He hums. “Hi, Duckie. You little shit.”

You rock back and forth, eyes closed. Breathing between contractions, your head low between your shoulders. “How long will you be?”

The truck door creaks open. “I’m leaving right now. I’ll be…Fuck, I’ll be a couple hours, at least. I’m on my way, alright?”

Tears drip onto your bare thighs, the salt spilling into your mouth. “Joel,” you shake your head, “I don’t think I can do this.”

“Yes, you can,” he says. “Are you kidding? Got us this far ‘n now you want to bail? That ain’t you, baby. Come on, now.”

“I wanna bail,” you insist. You slump to the floor, head lolling over the rim of the bathtub. Weeping like a little kid. “I’m scared, Joel. I’m so scared.”

“I know you are. Lord knows I’m scared, too – scared as hell. But –” the engine roars to life, “– I can’t wait to finally meet this kid. Our kid. Can’t wait to hold ‘em. Can’t wait to see you become a mom, and me become a dad.”

“Mom and Dad,” you whisper, sniffling.

“Mom and Dad, right? Yeah. You can do this. I know you can.”

The bathroom blurs behind your tears. You close your eyes, replacing the pale night with warmer dawn. Replacing it with images of tiny hands and feet; missing front teeth and a love-worn teddy tucked safely into bed.

Joel’s voice is softer, kinder. Calmer, now that he’s closing the hundred and fifty miles between the two of you.

“Just – don’t let the kid give you any shit, alright?”

The fear boils into determination. Something more irritating than it is terrifying. You inhale, blowing a heavy, shuddered breath to the ceiling. “Whatever, Miller.”

“Attagirl,” he says. “That’s the spirit. Now, call a damn ambulance.”

With a scoff, you push yourself to your feet, waddling towards the foot of your bed. You sway back and forth, holding your bump and listening to the hum of Joel’s truck.

And then you hear it.

Three sharp raps, from downstairs.

You wander to the hallway, squinting in the dark. “Joel?”

“Hm?”

“Are you…?”

The sound grows louder the nearer you draw. Quick knuckles against your front door.

“Am I what, darlin’?”

You lower yourself down the stairs, fist tight around the rail.

It’s August again. Sun’s encore blazing through your kitchen windows, bleeding golden through your living room. Everything shining, everything new and untouched.

Knock knock knock.

Light satin, duck egg blue; string lights and a diamond-encrusted necklace. The bones of your wardrobe propped against your porch. A rattling toolbox hanging from his fist, a positive pregnancy test in yours.

The knocking halts when you flick the porch light on. She calls your name once, old voice quivering.

Your phone is still glued to your ear as you pull the door open. “Al…?”

She squints at you and lifts a hand to shield from the light. She’s still in her pajamas – green dressing gown loose and lifting in the breeze.

Her eyes drop to the tee draped over your bump, the silver stream of fluid down the inside of your thigh. As she opens her mouth to speak, your hand slams into the doorpost.

“Oh, fuck,” you groan, and Alice Brown steps straight over the threshold.

“Are you in labor? Oh, sweetie. Sit down, sit.”

She backs you towards the stairs. One bony, trembling hand around yours – squeezing as tight as you are. She rubs up and down your spine, shushing until the pain subsides.

You blink up at her glowing figure, haloed by the porch light outside. “How did you…?”

She hushes you with a finger in the air. “I’m up most nights. I heard you from the window. Have you called 9-1-1?”

You shake your head, beginning to cry again.

Alice just nods, dismissing your bullshit. “Where’s your overnight bag, sweetheart?”

You toss a thumb over your shoulder. “It’s up in the nursery. I can go grab it –”

She holds you still with a hand on your shoulder. “Stay.” Another curt nod, then, “Get your shoes, get yourself over to my car. Do you need pants? You need pants. My car, right now.”

“Alice, you really don’t have to –”

“Get in the car,” she insists, climbing past you. “I’m right behind you!”

You watch her figure dissolve into the dim upstairs, and lift the phone back to your ear. “Did you…hear all that?”

“Alice Brown,” Joel replies, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “What’d I tell ya? That woman doesn’t miss a goddamn thing in this neighborhood.”

“Three centimeters,” the obstetrician says, covering your legs with the sheet. “Still a little ways to go.”

The suite is hushed and still. Walls an unoffending shade of oatmeal; decorated only with oak paneling and a framed painting of some lilies.

A nurse tilts the shades, averting the twinkling city lights in the distance. She turns and smiles – the same fucking smile everyone’s been giving you since you set foot in the place. Head tilted, brows arched.

Sympathy that you want to chew up and spit back out at their feet.

You force yourself to smile in return, and she floats back out to the bustling reception.

“Will he make it?” Alice asks. She’s still in her pajamas; the floral print goes well with the interior of the room. “The father, I mean. Joel.”

The obstetrician peels the gloves from her hands. She shrugs as she drops them into a wastebin. “I don’t see why not,” she says. “Things are moving a little quickly, but I don’t see you having your baby in the next couple hours.”

“You don’t know this kid like I do,” you groan, shifting in the bed.

She lifts the cardiotocograph reading, scanning the jagged lines. “You’re doing great,” she says. “I’ll be back in a little while. Just holler if you need anything.” She strolls off, letting the door sweep shut behind her.

Alice adjusts your pillow and squeezes your shoulder. She holds out a cup of water, guiding the straw to your lips. “He’ll be here,” she whispers.

You take a sip and settle back. “I don’t think I’m that lucky. I told him I hoped he’d get a flat on the ride there. This feels like karma.”

“Well, if it’s anyone’s karma –” she wiggles her fingers, “– it’s his. Going to Houston was ridiculous in the first place. Hell, you two not being together is ridiculous.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Just because we’re having a kid doesn’t mean we should be together. You shouldn’t be with someone for the sake of a baby who won’t even know any different.”

“Right, right,” Alice agrees, turning away. “You should only be with someone if you love them.”

“Exactly. And me and Joel – we’re not in love.”

She murmurs to herself. She lowers into a chair by the window, crossing her arms. “I’m seventy-three,” she says. “I’m not a damn fool.”

Something twists awkwardly between your hips. You wince, clutching your bump.

Duckie’s heartbeat pulses through the room. Muffled little bubbles of noise, popping one after the other. Strong and steady as hell – a determined little thing, the doctor said.

Don’t I fucking know it, you thought.

You reach for the silicone mask and cup it over your mouth. The gas is cold and funny when you inhale, feeling it shoot straight for the back of your skull. It does little more than dull the spiking pain, but still – you tip your head back, eyes rolling closed.

You let yourself fade from the suite – its yellow lamplight and hushed chatter outside – to somewhere warmer. Somewhere brighter.

Birdsong high overhead, and the whispering leaves on the oak trees in your yard. The sweet breeze on your skin, soothing the sting of the sun. Prickling wood on your fingertips, the gentle strum of a guitar somewhere beyond the fence.

Peering between the slats, catching glimpses of him like watching a film reel. His head nodding, his foot tapping. The concentration tight on his face; the perfect pick and pluck of his fingers on each string.

Half-hoping that he’ll spot you, scold you for spying and storm back into his house. That he might bring it up later – And another thing, while he whips his newspaper from your grasp, ignoring your cackling.

Half-hoping that he won’t. That he’ll sit there at his back door, bottle of beer at his feet, playing to his audience of sparrows.

And you’ll stand here, wishing you could ask the name of each song he hums.

The contraction splits your daydream in two.

In two hours, you dilate almost three centimeters.

You pace back and forth across the suite, pausing only when your womb clenches like a fist. The contractions are lasting longer, swinging lower, and punching harder. They’re giving you less recovery time; less of a chance to get back on your feet.

It’s a fucking nightmare.

Joel’s still not here. Last you heard, he’d just hit Travis County. Twenty minutes, baby, I promise. That was half an hour ago.

It might be for the better that he hasn’t gotten here. You’ve warned Alice three times already that you might just beat the shit out of him, whenever he walks through that door.

And you know what, sweetheart? She chuckled. I bet you could beat the shit out of him, sore as you are.

“Fuck,” you cry out, collapsing onto the bed. You stretch out forward, head hanging between your shoulders, and gulp back more of the laughing gas. The ache barrels from your stomach to your hips, peaking in the very center.

Alice rubs circles into the small of your back. It’s not helping, but you let her do it anyways. Gives her something to tell the neighbors that isn’t damaging to your reputation.

“That’s it,” she coos. “A little longer, just a little…”

The door clicks open just as the tense band begins to loosen.

Your head is spinning. The mask slips from your fingers.

Alice’s hand pauses. “…a little longer…” she repeats, voice drifting. Her weight leaves your back, replaced by something heavier, stronger.

Safer.

Someone grounding, someone smelling of pine and sweet spice.

He sits on the bed at your back and curves around your body. Lips to your shoulder like the sun in your backyard. His beard scratches against your hot skin.

You blink your eyes open.

Joel’s watch face winks back at you. His hands are over yours – bigger, wider. His fists swallow yours whole. They turn, slipping beneath your palms, and your fingers lace together.

“Joel…” you breathe, face turning in to his neck.

“Hi, sweet girl,” he says, wiping sweat from your brow.

You fall limp against his chest. “Holy shit.”

He looks exhausted. Gray, almost translucent. Looks like he’s just driven a couple hundred miles, half asleep and wholly panicked.

But – he’s here. He made it.

The sight of him, the feel of him holding you upright, melts away any anger or resolve to fight back. For now, at least. Picking an argument can wait until there isn’t a human splitting you in two.

He’s here. You’re not doing this alone.

“Holy shit,” Joel repeats. “You okay?”

“How did you get here so –?”

“Ninety-five the entire way.”

You frown. “Only ninety-five?”

“Trunk’s a hunk a’ shit,” he admits. “Couldn’t break a hundred.”

Alice scoffs, somewhere across the room.

He cradles you, his lips to your forehead. “Where we at?” he asks, staring at the paper churning from the cardiotocograph.

“Five, almost s–shit – six centimeters.” You clamp down on his hands, your uterus winding again.

Joel holds the mask back to your lips and you suck another chemical breath in. “Six? Jesus,” he gapes at Alice, “ain’t that…ain’t that real fast? For – for your first?”

Your fingers are weak and shaky, resting on his knuckles. “Your kid has a sick sense of humor,” you mutter into the silicone.

“That ain’t from me,” he says. “That’s all you, maestro.”

You turn closer into his shirt with a groan. He’s solid as a rock, swaying you through it. He’s here.

Alice swipes her coat from a hook by the door. She shakes her head, pulling it over her shoulders. “Ninety-five, Joel? Sweet Lord.”

He rolls his eyes. His hand curves around your bump. “Had a little bit of an emergency, Alice,” he says, watching your face twist with pain.

“And what if you’d had an accident?”

“I didn’t, Alice.”

“You could’ve, goin’ that damn fast. You’re lucky you’re even here.”

Joel finally looks up. “It’s four in the mornin’,” he protests, like a teenager. “Lucky if I passed five cars.”

You give him a weak smile, lowering the mask. You won’t win, you mouth.

He presses his lips to your head. “’s too much fun,” he murmurs, and you snort.

“Oh!” Alice throws a hand up. “I’m glad you find it funny!” She buttons her coat and glares back at both of you, hands on her hips.

She’s a busybody – has been since before you even moved in. She showed up on your doorstep on your first night with a casserole in hand, and made sure to get a good look at your living room before she shuffled back to her own place.

Always watching, always listening.

You never thought you’d see the day when you’d actually be thankful for her snoopiness.

“Thank you, Alice,” you say, head tilting. “For getting me here, for holding my hand…Thank you.”

Her expression thaws, eyes gleaming. With a sniff, she composes herself – and then points to Joel. “You call me as soon as that baby arrives. I won’t sleep, Joel, until you call.”

“I’ll call,” he assures.

She looks back at you. Balls her crepe paper fists, gives them a hearty shake. “Good luck, Mom,” she says, and with one last glance, slips out of the room.

Joel turns back to you, an eyebrow raised. “Take it she was out tendin’ to her tulips again?”

“Yeah,” you snicker, “one in the morning, those fuckers had to be watered.”

He chuckles. “You feelin’ okay?”

“Better now,” you tell him.

“I’m so sorry, darlin’,” he says, shaking his head. “I should’ve been here. A goddamn idiot, headin’ off like that. So damn stupid.”

“Shh, you’re here now.” You wipe the tears from the corners of his eyes. “I just needed you to be here.”

He nods. “I’m here, whatever you need. Tell me what I can do.”

You take a deep breath. “I need…”

Joel straightens – bracing, ready to jump at your first request.

“…I need a fucking break, Joel. I’m so tired, and this fucking kid –”

“Alright,” he sighs, shifting from behind you. “You and your goddamn jokes.”

You smirk, looking over your shoulder. “You missed me.”

“Hm,” he fixes the neckline of your gown, “I missed you. I really did.”

Born at 07:43. It’s a girl.

It’s like being broken open. Like splitting at the seams; your old self falling from you like shards of fruit. Separating, rolling apart; making way for someone older, wiser. Someone with all of the answers in the palm of her hand.

Mom.

You finally get it. She turns to you, finally glances over her shoulder. And she’s no stranger – no one you haven’t known your entire life. I know you, you whisper, nail trailing her smile lines and the pimples along her jaw.

I see you every time I look in the mirror.

Duckie is pulled from your body with a scream like bloody murder – a scream which matches the whimper you let out in shock, if not in volume.

The kid can scream. Jesus Christ, she can scream. It pierces the dull room; deafens you for a couple seconds the first time you hear it.

You’ve never heard a sound so fucking beautiful.

She wails as they lift her from your body. All curled-up, wriggling in the midwife’s arms. She wails as they slot her beneath your chin, as they wipe the blood and amniotic fluid from her.

She wails until the moment her skin meets yours, and as though it’s all you’ve ever known, you begin shushing her cries. Your arms close around her body, rocking her until she settles.

Her tiny hand grabs for something, for someone, for –

You.

Her mom.

“Joel,” you gasp, watching her tiny, pruned fingers clasp tight around just one of yours. “She’s…she’s so small…”

He sniffs in reply, lifting his hand from your shoulder to wipe his face.

You turn to look up at him.

He looks as broken open as you feel. Eyes bloodshot and soaking, tears streaming into his thick beard. A sob in his throat which chokes and silences him, until he catches your eye and he can’t help but laugh with elation.

“Look at her,” he weeps, all torn up by the little girl in your arms. He presses his lips to your forehead in a crash of a kiss: wet, soaking wet on your skin.

You beam up at him when he pulls away. “We did it,” you whisper.

Joel shakes his head. He runs a thumb across the damp print left on your head. “You did it, honey,” he mutters. “I was nothin’ but a spectator.”

“You almost missed the game,” you quip, and he laughs again.

Your body throbs; nearly numb with pain, heavy with fatigue and emotion. But as long as she’s here, this tiny tornado of a girl, you don’t feel a thing.

Clenching and then unclenching her fist around your finger – so delicate compared to the punches she was throwing at your ribs just six hours ago. She’s worth every fucking second of it.

You finally fucking get it.

She fits so perfectly in the crook of your arm. It feels as though your body was made just to hold her – the very shape of you, designed especially for the very shape of her.

You wonder whether it was the same for your mom. Whether you came along and made her feel whole, for the first time in her life.

Duckie’s eyes open – all glossy and brand new, blinking up at the both of you like she needed no introduction. She already knows you, from the inside out. Her dad’s graying beard, the threads of silver around his temples. Her mom’s tear-stained cheeks, eyes red and bleary with sleeplessness and pure love.

You’re Mom, you’re Dad.

It’s all she’s ever known.

The pillow sighs as you lean back into it. The doctor begins repairing the damage done between your legs; threading and knitting your body back together.

You’re caught between a state of bliss and shock. Your brain is doing much the same work to itself as the woman between your knees is. Patching over all the bloody parts: the screams which tore your skin, the pain which cracked your teeth.

None of it holds a candle to the weight of her in your arms. No matter how tired you are, you can’t take your eyes off her. Her puffy cheeks, the little creases between her brows. No matter how sore, you never want to let go of her.

Joel runs a finger down Duckie’s cheek. “Ain’t she the most beautiful thing in the world?”

“I love her,” you say, bubbling again. “I love her more than anything.”

An hour old, and she’s already a daddy’s girl.

Joel ambles back and forth at the foot of your bed in the recovery suite, bouncing Duck in his arms. He’s never looked so relaxed, so natural at something. He’s never seemed so content, so peaceful.

Everything he’s ever made with his hands – structures and framework and your goddamn closet – and yet this, this tiny accident, this baby girl you were so sure you’d dreamt up right up until an hour ago –

This is the thing he’s proudest of.

Morning lifts through the windows, all soft and vanilla. It floats around him, sunlight spilling across his skin and breathing life and color into him.

Sunlight – or his daughter. They’re the same thing, anyway.

You pull apart a slice of toast, watching. Just watching. Sweet strawberry jam on your tongue, the flavor of everything sharper, fresher. The colors brighter, more vivid.

The world makes more sense like this, you think. Painted in shades of honey and ochre; a room in a corner of the world where time slows to a halt. A soft lullaby from his lips, and the little coos from hers.

The ache of love and labor lingers deep inside you, and nothing has ever made more sense.

You suck the sticky sweet from your fingertips.

Joel looks up, toying with Duckie’s hand. “You want her back?” he asks, a dumb grin on his face.

You shake your head. “I like watching you.”

He scrunches his nose, nuzzling it against his daughter’s, and whispers, “I wasn’t gonna give you back, anyways.” He sways in the early light, staring down at her. “Jesus,” he mutters, swiping at his eyes again, “I didn’t…I didn’t know I could love somethin’ this much.”

“Me, either.”

He drifts over, lowering himself slowly onto the edge of the bed. He extends his elbow, still cradling the baby, and helps you pull yourself upright.

You hiss, a not-so-subtle sting between your legs.

“You, uh…you think of a name yet?” Joel asks.

“Not yet,” you reply, hooked onto his shoulder. Duck blows a bubble and you wipe it with your knuckle. “I thought we were sticking with Duckie?”

His cheeks swell. The sun kisses the edges of his beard. “I thought of one,” he says softly. “Maybe. It’s your call.”

You yawn into his shirt, the warmth of him calm and soothing. “Alright, Miller. Hit me.”

He looks down at the baby nestled in his safe hands. The smallest thing either of you have ever seen.

The name must roll around his head a few times, the way he tilts to-and-fro – looking at her from one angle, then the next. Deciding, when he pulls back, that she suits it from every direction. Like it was her name long before he or even you knew it.

You watch his lips shape the name before you hear it.

Sarah.

And for what feels like forever, you just stare at him. The syllables lingering in the air like glistening specks of dust in a sunbeam. Your eyes follow them down to your daughter, now sleeping peacefully with two hands around one of her dad’s thumbs.

“Sarah,” you repeat, remembering whose name it was, whose name it is – whose name it has always been. “Sarah Miller.”

Joel’s shoulders lift. “What do you think? She look worthy of bein’ a Sarah?”

The rustle of tissue paper. Blue and green and purple tearing between your fingers. The funny fuzz of pom poms as your hands rummaged through the bag. Her hand swimming towards you, an orange foam fish riding the waves between her fingers. Bubbly sounds erupting from her lips.

Your girlish giggle. Her silly grin. Hopscotch along the sidewalk; stopping to look for cars before she’d walk you across the street. How much do I love you, baby girl?

More than the whole world, Mama.

“I love it,” you breathe, tears running to the corners of your mouth. “Sarah fucking Miller.”

“Sarah fuckin’ Miller,” Joel echoes; two wet lines the same as yours, curving down his cheeks. He shifts her into the crook of his arm.

You’re impossibly close. Your chin rests on his shoulder, foreheads brushing when you lean in to each other. His breath is hot on your lips, closer and closer and closer until –

He tastes like salt, rich with emotion. Salt, and then sweet when your tongue meets his. He lifts his free hand to cup your cheek, and your fingers link around his wrist.

And you know you shouldn’t be doing it – know this isn’t your man to be kissing. But in this room, where no one else can see – where it’s just you, him, and all the best parts of yourselves shaped into someone better – he feels like yours.

Just for a moment.

Joel takes the first week of Sarah’s life off work.

He spends a good twenty minutes on the phone to the contractor, talking more about the kid than he does the job. Her eyelashes, her fingernails, the way her legs scrunch anytime he lifts her up.

He’s besotted with the entire thing. And he tells everybody so.

He moves in with you both, stays in your guestroom. It’s a week of no sleep, no peace, and a total of three showers between you. Wearing the same clothes covered in spit-up and drool until one of you has the time or energy to do laundry.

It’s hard. It’s the hardest thing you’ve ever done. By your count, you’ve already cried three times to Joel – terrified you’re getting it all wrong.

But you’re doing it. Jesus God, you’re doing it.

You order takeout most nights. You can’t stand long enough to cook just yet, and you don’t trust Joel not to burn your fucking kitchen down – despite his protests. And it feels like, after everything your body’s given you, it deserves a greasy pizza and some chicken wings.

You rot on the couch together, watching shitty TV and arguing over reruns of Jeopardy! – until Sarah wakes and the whole thing begins again.

Joel loses the game of rock, paper, scissors tonight.

“Shh, baby girl. ‘s alright now, I gotcha,” he lulls, tucking her back in to her bassinet.

She fusses and stretches out; arms over her head, legs curled up. Her onesie is still a little too big – the socked feet all baggy, the sleeves rolled up her wrists.

He lingers for a moment as she drifts off, a hand stroking her tummy. Watching, always watching her. The rise and fall of her stomach, the puffs of breath from her nostrils, her lips still suckling away in her sleep.

“I swear I have a baby photo that looks just like her,” you say. “Same nose and everything.”

Joel clicks his teeth. “Got her looks from her mom. Lucky thing.”

“Low-hanging fruit,” you snort.

He drifts back over, sinking into the couch at your side. “Doin’ okay?” he asks, and you nod.

Every muscle in your body still feels like a ton weight. Your stomach is still swollen; there are still stitches between your legs. There are moments you can’t tell if you’re crying because of hormones, exhaustion, or joy.

Every time, it’s a combination of all three.

Life before feels so long ago – and it hasn’t even been a fortnight. But then you held her for the first time, and now – your arm misses the weight of her when she’s not in it. Your house feels eerily quiet when she’s not laughing, or whimpering, or screaming the fucking roof down.

You can feel your daughter growing up already, and she’s only ten days old.

On the mantelpiece, safe in a stippled gold frame, your mom beams down over her. The photo at least twenty years old, the memory even older. Laughing, the way she always was; nothing quite so funny as a joke frozen in time.

Joel prods you with his elbow. “She’d be proud of you, you know. Your mom.”

“Oh,” you scoff, “no, she’d be like, Holy shit. This kid totally kicked your ass.”

He chuckles. “Sure she did,” he shrugs, “she’s your kid.”

The TV babbles to itself across the room. In its glow, Joel meets your eye. A tiny, pearly fleck swimming in deep honey.

It’s familiar – each shade of bronze in his eyes, each thread of silver through his hair. Like you’ve mapped each and every line on his skin, collecting them like the sleepless hours between you.

Everything about him feels so normal. Burnt toast in the morning, a spoon clinking around a mug of coffee. The rustle of the newspaper, the sizzle of eggs in the pan, the baby snoring on your chest.

Everything – and yet nothing you’ve ever known.

“I miss her,” you whisper. “I miss my mom.”

His hand finds yours instantly. “I know, baby. I know you do.”

You slouch down, leaning on his shoulder, and close your eyes. Joel presses his lips to the crown of your head, his thumb looping around your knuckles.

Sarah gurgles in her sleep. She sighs – a satisfied little sound. Nothing has ever made more sense.

His voice rumbles against your skull. “Who sent the lilies?”

Your eyes flutter open. “Hm?”

Joel flicks his finger towards the window, towards a sprawl of speckled, cream flowers. “The lilies? They weren’t there this morning.”

“Oh…” You turn to look up at him, cringing.

He sees the flicker of her behind your eyes. Her lustrous curtain of hair, her perfect almond nails.

“Really?” Joel asks, mirroring your expression.

You nod, trying not to laugh. “From her and Kate. You were upstairs with Sarah when she came by. I offered to call you down, but – she just wanted to drop ‘em and go.”

“What did she…? Did she say anything?”

Your head shakes. “She just…she said congratulations, said she hoped we were okay. Then she got in her car and she left. I kinda figured things weren’t sunshine and roses, anyway. You haven’t fuckin’ seen her since Houston.”

He snorts, fingers massaging his eyes. “I was goin’ to tell you,” he mumbles into his palms, “I just…Honey, I don’t even know what day of the week it is right now. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” you mutter.

“Yes, I do,” he insists. His eyes flit over to Sarah, then back to you. “We haven’t really talked it through yet, me ‘n her. I called her a few days ago, we agreed it’s time. It – it’s past time. I shoulda called it months ago.”

“I guess,” you sigh. “Are you okay?”

Joel’s brow furrows. “’course I am. I got the most beautiful baby girl in the world,” and then, rolling his eyes, “you’re here.”

“Oh, fuck you,” you clip, batting his arm. “Vanessa could do way better, anyways.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

You squeeze his fingers, softly adding, “I’m sorry it didn’t work out, Joel.”

He stares down at your clasped hands. He looks tired, worn out. You figure it’s not just from the newborn. But he takes a deep breath, something the color of relief dawning on his skin, and looks you dead in the eye.

“I’m not.”

“Hey, Duckie – can you say, Happy birthday, Daddy?”

A vinyl wobbles on the turntable – some acoustic record from when Joel was a teenager. There’s wrapping paper still crumpled beneath the coffee table; four plates with more crumbs than cake left, dotted around the room.

Tommy leans in, a lopsided party hat on his head, and tickles Sarah’s chin.

She blinks at him, unamused, then scrunches her little nose and turns back into your chest.

He sighs, straightening. “She don’t like her uncle Tommy all that much,” he grumbles, sulking back over to the couch. Maria puts a consoling arm around his shoulder.

You rest your lips on Sarah’s head, breathing in her sweet scent. Swaying back and forth, you tease, “She don’t like anyone all that much, not unless they’re her daddy.”

Joel’s head lifts and he smiles, eyes glistening. He watches you and Sarah dance; laughs when you twirl her around and she tips her head back, flashing a gummy grin.

“She’ll come around to ya,” he tells Tommy, wandering over to your side. “We all learned to, eventually.”

Tommy scoffs. “Very funny, old man. Jesus.”

Joel stoops down to let Sarah run her small hands through his beard. He catches her fingertips between his lips and pretends to nibble on them.

She giggles, squirming in your arms. Her fingers find the sweeps of hair on his forehead and, taking a fistful, she tugs.

“Christ,” Joel hisses, pulling back.

“That was on you this time,” you chuckle, pointing a finger. “You know she does that, and you still fall for it.”

Maria glances down at her watch. “Is that the time?” she asks, turning to Tommy. “We should really turn in.”

“Oh – right, right.” Tommy tips the last of his beer into his mouth. “We’re takin’ Mom to brunch tomorrow. Better get some goddamn rest.”

Joel hums, still massaging his hairline. “Hey,” he whispers, elbowing you. “Maybe I should take her over. She’s getting sleepy – ain’t you, little Duck?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Tommy stands and holds a hand out. “Why don’t you let Maria and I take her? We’ll tuck her in, keep an eye on her. We weren’t half bad the other day, while y’all were at work. And if she’s stayin’ at Joel’s tonight anyway…”

You glance to Joel, who shrugs. Something shaped like Sure.

“As long as you don’t mind,” you reply, bouncing the baby slowly. “Let me go grab her things.”

Joel’s hand slips across the small of your back as you pass, making for the stairs. He lingers at the bottom, watching until you turn into the nursery with Sarah in the crook of your arm.

You set her down in her crib and gather some of her favorites: a yellow blanket, a duck comforter, a rattle shaped like an elephant. She watches contentedly as you shuffle back and forth, staring when you lean over the wooden rail.

“You know how much I love you?” you whisper, curling a finger inside her fist. She squeezes, and you say, “More than the whole world.”

She grabs at the chain dangling from your neck, the letter S catching the light. Instead, she lifts your finger to her mouth. Her nails scratch light as a feather across your skin. Her gums are tiny and soft around your knuckle.

Everything about her is tiny and soft. Her sweeping eyelashes, her plushy cheeks. Her round tummy, and the squeals she lets free as you dot kisses and blow raspberries all over it. No matter how much she’s grown in three months, she’s still so tiny.

She’ll always be the smallest, sweetest thing you’ve ever known. And she’s all yours.

“Jesus, kid,” you sniff, swiping at your tears. You slip your hands around her back and prop her on your hip. “Alright, let’s go. Quit making your mom cry.”

The bag over your shoulder, you carry her out of the room and into the dark hallway. It’s quiet downstairs; nothing but the crackle of the record player, the distant chink of dishes in the kitchen.

That – and hushed voices in the living room.

“Joel,” Tommy says, over and over again. He’s trying to cut in between his brother’s rambling. Joel – listen to me. Just listen, for one second –”

You linger on the bottom step, trying to split Joel’s voice from Tommy’s. Trying to pluck the words out, over Maria’s humming from the next room.

“…and it ain’t that simple, Tommy it’s –”

“What ain’t simple about it? You have a –” Tommy says it through his teeth, “– you have a kid together, Joel. You really think she’s gonna –”

Sarah grabs the charm around your neck and shakes suddenly, rattling the chain.

You close your hand around hers, losing your balance. “Shhhhit, Duckie, you –”

Joel’s eyes snap to your figure as you step down. He clears his throat, leaning away from Tommy. “Hey – hey, darlin’.”

“Hey,” you reply. Bright. Chipper. Unclenching your fist to let your daughter shake your necklace some more.

She squeals with delight when she spots Joel across the room.

“She ready to go?” he asks, slinging a quick – telling – look at Tommy.

You look between the brothers, browns quirking. They look as guilty as each other: scratching their beards, staring at the furniture instead of you. “Uhuh,” you reply, tongue against your teeth. “Everything…everything okay?”

Tommy slaps his thighs as he stands. “Everything’s great, sweetheart. Sure as shit. Joel �� you, uh…you got a key on ya?”

“Oh, yep.” Joel reaches into his pocket. He unhooks a silver key from the chain and drops it into his brother’s open palm.

Tommy calls for Maria. He sidesteps around you, face flushed and smiling.

She floats through from the kitchen, drying her palms on her jeans. “Where’s my baby duck?” she sings, reaching for Sarah.

You pass her over and she melts into her aunt’s arms, curling up into a little pink lump on her chest. “She just had a feed, like, twenty minutes ago, so – she should go down pretty well. And there are more bottles in Joel’s fridge, if you need ‘em.”

Maria nods, wrapping Sarah’s blanket around her. She lifts the bag strap from your shoulder and hands it to Tommy. “I’ll text you as soon as she’s down. Come on, Duckie, let’s get you to bed.”

Tommy leans over and squeezes your arm, winking as he follows his wife. He calls goodnight to Joel, lifting a pointed finger over his head, and closes the door behind them.

Things could not have gone smoother.

It’s suspicious as shit.

You turn when you hear Joel shifting.

“C’mon,” he utters, a pile of plates in one hand. “I ain’t leavin’ you with this mess.” He heads through to the kitchen, broad figure swaying.

The plates spill into the sink, water trickling over them. Joel hums to himself as he gets to work with a sponge in hand.

You linger in the living room.

Things have been good lately – peaceful. You’re in as much of a routine as Sarah will allow: a steady pattern of dropping her off and picking her back up, patchwork family dinners, daytrips whenever both of you can make them.

Your body is healing, pulling itself back together. You don’t have to think about being Mom anymore – she walks in stride with you. The world is painted a new shade of normal – one where you can do anything with a baby on your hip, one where love becomes your first language.

One where you swallow back the ache in your heart, for better or for worse. The only piece of you still fractured. The only wound left open.

Joel’s birthday cards lie flat on the coffee table. You pluck them up one by one – his parents’, Tommy and Maria’s, yours – and Sarah’s.

A messy splotch of a handprint, bright yellow paint smeared across half the fucking card (she hasn’t quite mastered self-control yet). A googly eye plastered to the bird’s chest; orange crayon for the beak and legs.

Sure, you took charge for most of the project – but when he opened it and saw his daughter’s little masterpiece, you caught him swiping his knuckle at the corner of his eye. He snuggled into her, perched on his lap, and whispered, Thank you, little Duckie.

You prop them along your mantelpiece, dotted around your mom’s photo. When you step back, looking from son to brother to…a good friend, you could almost pretend.

Almost pretend that they belong here, on this mantelpiece. There is no yours and his. Just one of everything; nothing doubled nor halved.

Almost pretend that he won’t collect them as he leaves, break into another teary laugh at the sight of the duck painting, and then kiss your cheek goodnight. Promise to have your daughter back in time to go swimming tomorrow morning.

Almost.

“Hey,” Joel calls, “did you, uh – did you hear Tommy talkin’ about Jackson?”

You slip into the kitchen, side by side with him at the sink. “Uh, yeah,” you reply, lifting a towel. “Moose, pine trees. Yep.”

“It sounds beautiful. You think we should take a trip up there sometime? Could be Sarah’s first vacation.”

“You mean the three of us?”

He shrugs, scrubbing a bowl in the water. “Sure. I don’t think Duckie would let one of us stay behind, do you? She’d scream the damn airport down,” he chuckles, looking back to the twinkling bubbles.

You hum. “Maybe.”

“You don’t feel like it?”

“No, I do. I just – I don’t know. Maybe someday.”

“Okay,” Joel says, nodding. “Put a pin in it.”

He passes you a dripping plate and you drag the towel over it, circling the pattern until the suds are wiped clean. And another, and another.

It feels awkward. It feels stiff. There’s something hanging between you, heavy on both your shoulders. A weight you haven’t felt around Joel in over a year.

You turn to him as he stacks the last plate on the draining board. “Is that what you were talking to Tommy about?”

Joel pauses. “You heard that, huh?”

“Only the part about having a kid. It’s none of my business, I know, I just –”

“Actually,” he clears his throat, “it’s plenty your business.”

He leans back against the counter and crosses his arms. A deep breath, cheeks puffing as he exhales. His grip on the dish towel whitens his knuckles.

He’s…nervous. The same shade of gray he wore the night you went into labor.

He takes another unsteady breath.

“Joel?” you ask, head tilting. “Whatever it is, you can say it. I got whiskey, if that’ll make it easier. Probably tastes like shit, but…”

His expression cracks. His eyes twinkle, and he smiles. Only a little, but enough. Enough to let the words slip through.

“You know, that night at Tommy’s wedding was one of the best nights of my life.”

Your heartbeat thuds a bassline in your ears; the rush of your blood the squealing guitar. Skin tacky, moans caught between teeth. Laughter and lust tangling together in the air.

“Yeah?” you ask.

Joel nods. “Yeah. Lying there – talking, laughing, messin’ around. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed that hard in all my life. I could’ve stayed in that room with you forever.”

Your eyes start to sting. You look away.

“I thought I would regret it. I thought I should regret it. And I never did. But then,” he takes a deep breath, “the next day, I look out front, and my newspaper’s sittin’ on my lawn. And for two weeks straight, I kept checking – and there it was. I thought, Sure as shit, she regrets the whole thing. I thought you never wanted to see me again.”

You shake your head. “I wanted to see you again. I missed – I missed you. Missed pissin’ you off.”

He laughs. “I missed you pissin’ me off. Missed that annoying as hell thud on my porch.”

“I didn’t know if you wanted me to – you know,” you admit, and Joel nods.

“We got pretty good at avoidin’ each other,” he grumbles. “And then – with Vanessa, I thought I’d be doin’ you a favor. Letting you off light.”

“You…you took her number to do me a favor?”

“Naw,” Joel says. “I took her number ‘cause her brother in-law has a lumber company, and I had a closet to build. I was drunk, I was an idiot, and I brought it up to her at the wedding. By the time I thought it through, you ‘n I weren’t speakin’.”

You stare at him, jaw slack. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

He shakes his head. He edges closer to you. Voice low, he says, “I shouldn’t’ve gone out on that first date with her. I shouldn’t’ve done any of it. I should’ve talked to you about what I was feeling.”

“Well, maybe we both should’ve,” you mutter, wringing your hands. “I wasn’t exactly the best at it, either.”

His head tips, considering. “Can I tell you now?”

You glance over to him. “Tell me what, Miller?”

“Tell you…tell you that I love you,” he whispers.

It steals the breath from your lungs. One clean swipe.

He nods to himself, then – certain of it – and says it again. “I do, darlin’. I love you.”

Your heart begins to hammer. Tears spill over onto your cheeks, dripping from your jaw.

“And, look –” Joel takes your wrists, “– I got no right to say any of that, I know. I put you through a hell of a lot, these last few months – and that kills me. But if you’ll let me, I swear to you – I’ll make it up to you. I’ll take care of you for the rest of my life.”

You look up. His cheeks are dappled, too – glistening with tears. “Joel…” you weep.

He cups your jaw. “Listen to me. What we’ve had, the last three months – I want it all the time. I want you, and I want Duck. I want the three of us under one roof. I want to sleep in the same bed as you.”

You breathe a shuddered laugh. Your hands fall over his wrists. Keep talking, you mouth, bottom lip trembling.

“I want to get married, or not,” Joel says. “I want to show up to Tommy and Maria’s anniversary party late, ‘cause Duck couldn’t pick which shoes she wanted to wear. I want to have more kids, take ‘em on vacation.”

“Wyoming?” you sniff.

“Wyoming,” he repeats. “I want…I want all of it, baby. You ‘n me. I want you ‘n me, more than anything in the world. And if I’m too late, then you can tell me. Tell me, and I swear on my life I will never mention it again.”

Your hands curve over his. His strong knuckles, worked and weathered and worn by his years. Down to his wrists – the tatty strap on his ages-old watch, the dark hair peppered along his arms.

“I love you so much, baby. So much that it drives me insane. You drive me…fuckin’ insane.”

“Oh, fuck you,” you whisper, balling your fists against his chest.

Joel laughs, nose brushing against yours. “Yeah,” he sniffs, “I figured you’d say som’ like that.”

“I love you, too,” you mumble, linking your arms around his neck. “Shit, I love you.”

“Ain’t that a thing?” he says, and his lips are on yours.

It’s been a year. A year since the first time you felt him – lips soft as velvet, sweet with alcohol and something stronger. His tongue and yours, his teeth and yours. Every part of you clashing with every part of him.

And goddamn, you’ve missed it.

Joel follows you upstairs, pinning you to the wall by your bedroom door. White heat flooding through your veins, he kneels before you and pulls you onto his tongue.

He’s hungry.

He laps at you as though you’ll be gone in the morning. As though he won’t wake up tangled in you, breathing in your scent, lips on your skin.

Dusk seeps in at the edges of your vision; daylight draining from the sky. It’s dark, too dark to see him clearly, but you feel him fucking everywhere.

His beard grazes the inside of your thigh. He kisses where he scratches your skin. He holds your hips steady, tongue dipping in and out.

“You know how fuckin’ sweet you taste?” he growls, slipping inside again.

He looks so good between your legs. Like he was made for it – made for you. All yours, in ways you never really understood until now.

He brings you to the edge with his tongue flat against your clit. Holding your hips firm against his mouth, groaning with you as you fall.

You come with a broken moan. Hips stutter to a halt, legs fall wide open. The warmth in your belly spills over and rushes to every corner of your body.

Joel moans, tongue still lapping as your cunt pulses all over him. “Good fuckin’ girl,” he slurs, watching you come undone.

He stands, a chaste kiss to your lips, and then parts them with his tongue. “Taste good?” he mumbles, kissing you gently.

Yeah, you think, moaning against him, it tastes fucking good.

He spreads you out on your mattress and kisses what feels like every square inch of your body. You giggle at the feeling of his lips behind your ear; moan when they close around your nipple.

Your back arches; little lightning bolts as he pulls the buds to a peak. Your fingers knot through his hair; hissing at the meeting of pain and pleasure between Joel’s lips.

“I love you,” you whisper, when he settles between your legs. You don’t know that you’ve felt something so true in all your life.

He smiles. Your fingers trace the lines at his eyes.

“Come here,” he says, and pulls your hips to meet his.

You curve a hand around his neck, glancing down at your open legs. “Looks a little different to the last time you saw her.”

Joel shakes his head, licking his lips. “Beautiful, baby. She looks so goddamn beautiful.”

Each movement is careful, deliberate. He notches his tip at your hole and pauses until you’re looking at him again.

And then he pushes in.

He slips an arm under your head; the other holding your thigh on his waist. He kisses you as you stretch around him. He still tastes like salt and slick.

You gasp, teeth gritting around a hiss. “Fuck,” you whimper, turning in to his chest.

“Easy, easy,” Joel coos, voice rumbling against your temple. “Catch your breath. Doin’ so good.”

“It’s not sore,” you tell him, nodding for him to move again. “It’s…it’s just…different.”

“Tighter,” he groans, eyes on your cunt as it draws his cock in.

You agree, “Tighter.”

He catches you in another kiss, his tongue slipping between your lips. “Feel so good, sweet girl. Breathe. ‘m right here.”

It’s never felt like this before. This gentle, this tender.

You have never felt like this before. Broken open, stitched back together. Your heart split into two – whole again each time his body meets yours.

Joel catches your moans on his tongue. He steadies his pace; rocking into you over and over. Laughing against your lips; your fingers intertwined with his.

“Feel good?” he pants.

Your head rolls back. “Mhm.”

“Take it, baby. Such a tight little thing.”

“Joel,” you cry, “I’m close.”

His teeth nip at your neck. “Shit,” his hips jump, “attagirl. Just like that.” He thrusts into you harder, bleeding the color from your vision.

You pull his lips to yours, foreheads tacky. Joel’s eyes gloss over.

I love you, he breathes.

And the world whitens.

He pulls you against his chest when you come back around. Shifts up the headboard, skin all sticky and warm. He kisses your temples, kisses your shoulders, kisses your knuckles.

You melt into his grasp, turning to look up at him. You run your fingers over his lips, through his damp hair. Just staring. Drinking him all in.

“You were right next door, the entire time,” you whisper.

He runs a thumb across your cheek. “Yep.”

“Do you think we wasted too much time?”

Joel’s lip turns. “Nah,” he says. “We found our way.”

“Needed a little help, though.”

He scoffs, tongue between his teeth. “I’m sure she’ll hold it against us forever.”

You think of that evening in August. The last bow of the sun before your world changed forever. Of deals struck and promises made. Of satin on your fingertips – newspaper ink and duck egg silk.

You think of that photograph on your mantelpiece. Bright eyes watching every second of it. A smile on her face the entire time.

You laugh to yourself. Joel looks down and kisses your swollen cheek.

“We should go,” he taps your thigh, “got a little duck who’ll be wonderin’ where her mama and daddy are.”

The church tower rings out twice as the truck purrs between graves.

Joel pulls up under the shade of a sycamore, tires rolling to a halt. Sarah kicks her feet, her heels thudding against her car seat.

“Mama,” she presses a sticky finger to the back window, “flowers.”

“Yeah, baby,” you call over your shoulder, hugging your own graveside gift a little tighter in your arms. “Lots of ‘em, huh?”

“Yeah,” your daughter quietly considers, then kicks her seat again.

Joel waits patiently for you to give him the go ahead. He slips a hand around your knee, looking ahead at the rows of headstones. So patient, so gentle.

Your chest swells, a deep breath filling your lungs, and you nod. “Alright.”

“Sure?” he asks. “Take as long as you want, darlin’.”

But if you wait any longer, you’ll never leave. The paper wrap crinkles in your arms. “You take Duck,” you reply, “I’ll take…”

Joel lifts your hand, placing a soft kiss between your knuckles. “You got it. We’ll walk on.”

He leaves you in the truck to collect yourself. He unbuckles Sarah and sets her loose, following her across the grass with his hands in his pockets.

Her light-up sneakers flash as she sprints; head tossed back, toothless smile pointed to the sun. She turns back to her dad, her little hand fitting perfectly into his.

Made for each other.

You hook your fingers around the handle and leave the truck.

Their grave is a short walk down a grassy slope, sheltered by another towering tree. Its leaves flutter down around you as you near the stone; stray petals which catch in the breeze and lead the way.

You kneel down, the grass dry and prickly through your jeans. “Hi, Mom,” you whisper, sweeping some dust from the base of the grave. “Hi, Dad.”

Your grandma picked this spot. She’s long gone – laid to rest elsewhere with a grandfather you never met – so you try to visit as often as you can. Freshen the flowers, brighten up the stone.

It fucking sucks, but someone’s gotta do it.

You peel the brown paper from the bouquet, exposing the soft colors Sarah picked back in the florist. They fit perfectly on the stone, right beneath the words Devoted parents.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, a feeling that wraps itself around your throat and steals any other words – until a flash of pink catches your attention.

“Duckie,” Joel calls, following her between graves. “Hey. This is a cem…Hey, Duck, listen – this is a cemetery, we gotta be – Sarah!”

You stifle a laugh, watching him jog after the hoodie tied around her waist. He swipes for her hand and she dodges him, ducking between graves faster than his mid-fifties joints can turn him.

There’s no one else here – it’s only you. And it’s a quiet enough place as it is, so – you let her laugh. Let him chase her, and let her sneakers light the place in pink. What else is there to do?

“Sorry it’s been a little while,” you tell your parents, eyes still on your man.

He’s kneeling now, Sarah on his thigh, in front of a tall, cross-shaped stone. They’re pointing at the words on the stone, her inquisitive eyes studying each one.

“I know I said I’d come visit for Dad’s birthday, but I guess things got busy – what with the move and all. We’re still living out of boxes. But the girls’ rooms are almost done – we just gotta paint ‘em.”

You look back down to the stone. Your mom’s name carved deep into spotted marble, your dad’s underneath. One awful date to tie them both together.

Dad probably heard Duck’s first squeal and turned away; gone back to whatever boring activity he might get up to in the afterlife. But your mom, you know for certain, is sat with her chin on the heel of her palm. Watching her mini-me trace the shapes of words, squirming when Joel presses his lips to her temple and whispers hints to her.

She’s probably smiling, making some comment about how big Sarah’s getting. How smart she is, how funny. How she must keep you and Joel on your toes – and goddamn, she’s right.

“Joel’s been working on the kitchen,” you continue. “I left my phone in the truck, but you should see it, Mom. He got these marble countertops, these little brushed-gold handles. He wrote our names on the wall before he tiled it, so whoever remodels after we’re gone will find that. The four of us.”

“M-meh-mem-orr-mem-or-ree?” Sarah tilts her head.

Joel nods. “Memory, yeah. Good job, Duck.”

“Duckie’s good,” you tell your mom. “She’s top of her class in – well, everything. Really wiping the floor with all the other first-graders. She’d have been your favorite – I know that much. And you’d have been hers.

“She’s gonna be some kind of lawyer, we think. Social justice and all that. She likes to be a woman of the people. Always talkin’ back to Joel – she hardly cuts him any slack, these days,” you laugh.

“He’s good, too – Joel. Working hard, as usual. Tommy and Maria visited last week – they brought Buckley, and now Duck won’t stop goin’ on about us getting a dog.”

You chance a glance over the stone, making sure the pair are out of earshot when you add, “Don’t tell her, but we called the pound last night. We’re heading there tomorrow while she’s at school to pick one out for her birthday. Joel’s giddier than I think Sarah’s gonna be.”

Joel’s carrying Duck now, wandering down a wobbly row of graves.

She halts him by pointing to one. “N-eh-v-eh-never…fff-or-g-for–”

He stares at her, a grin breaking across his lips. “Sound it out, that’s it. ‘s a big word, baby girl. You got it.”

The world seems to blur around them. The birds sing, a light melody from overhead. The green trees sway across the blue of the sky; the straight soar of cars on the highway. It all fades into the background, behind the two of them – wandering from shade into brilliant sun.

Your family. Your man, your blood – and everything in between. The little girl who brought it all together in the end – leading her dad by hand over knolls and broken stone, chasing butterflies, and asking what eh-teh-err-nal means.

“Means forever,” Joel says, kneeling beside her. “’s how long I’m gonna love you for.”

“And Nel?”

“And Nel.”

“And Mama?”

“And Mama.”

Sarah runs her hands through his beard, swaying side to side. “But me the most,” she concludes, nodding.

Joel hms, biting back a laugh. He lifts his chin, asks the little girl whether or not he’s going gray.

She has the same ridiculous laugh you do. The same snort you used to find so embarrassing, until you heard it come from her.

Just watching them stokes the already burning fire in your ribcage – the warmth flooding around your heart. He’s so good at it – being a dad.

Was he ever anything else, before he was a father? You can’t remember a time you didn’t wake up next to him, wrapped up in his arms, or with one of his kids burrowed between your bodies. It all feels so long ago, now.

He wanted to do everything. He’d lie with you between his legs, holding your half-sleeping form upright while you fed her. He’d race home after work specially to bathe her. He picked up any and every single duck-themed thing that he came across.

And what were you? Mom felt like such a fucking longshot. So out of your reach that you couldn’t understand the meaning of the word.

But there are days when she says it – Sarah, looking up at you with Joel’s twinkling eyes and a smirk which matches yours – and it’s like you’ve been waiting your whole life to hear it. Like you’ve been waiting your whole life for her.

Well. Her, and her little sister.

“And, uh – another thing,” you say, reaching for the plastic handle of a car seat. “I brought somebody for you to meet.”

A clumsy fist shoots up to shake a speckled dinosaur toy – the brown spheres of its eyes catching the sunlight. She squeals with delight when you unbuckle her, kicks her legs the same way her sister always did.

“She’s a little nervous, ain’t you, Nel?” you whisper, laughing at her gummy smile and tiny, socked feet. “She spit up on herself on the way here, but – I think you’re gonna love her.”

You perch the baby on your thigh, same as Joel did with Sarah, and she wraps her fingers around one of yours. You wiggle it – waving to your mom’s name, to the petals gently fluttering in the breeze.

“Mom,” you sniff, “this is Ellie.”

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #tlou #macfrog #neighbor!joel miller #babydaddy!joel miller #tw pregnancy

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lovelettersfromluna · 11 months

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˚ ༘⋆｡˚❀ Blossom ❀˚｡⋆ ༘˚

{Ellie Williams x Reader}

Summary: Ellie broke up with you in high school right before she left for college. At the time, it left you devastated….five years later, she’s back. And she’s back for you.

an: hi my angels! I KNOW I KNOW I HEAR YOU ALL YELLING AT ME I’m sorry this took so long. This isn’t exactly what any of you asked for, but it’s an idea Ive had for a while. Once I started it I seriously could not stop until I was finished. Yes this is a cliff hanger, and yes I’m planning a part 2. I have a bunch other things coming up as well! I hope you’re all doing well, and I thank you so so much for the patience you all have with me. I really hope you guys like this one, enjoy my loves 🖤🖤

Warnings: 18+!! Smut!! Angst!! (Is it a fic of mine if there isn’t angst at this point), small town!Ellie, it’s summer time ofc hehe, fingering (r!receiving), nipple play (r!receiving), petnames, Ellie hurt reader in the past but is extremely desperate for her now, lots of kissing, let me know if I missed anything pleaseee. (Not proofread)

You can read part 2 here!

“But…can’t we just…can you just rethink this Ellie? You always said we would be-“ Ellie was quick to cut you off as she shoved the remainder of your things into a box, her eyes never once turning in your direction as you sat on her bed, eyes staring up at her as you practically begged her to just take a moment and think about this.

“I’ve already made up my mind. I don’t want to have to worry about you while I’m away, this is what’s best” her words are cold, and stern and it almost doesn’t even sound like her, like your girlfriend isn’t even living inside the person who is currently rummaging through her closet to look for the random things you’d left throughout the years.

And you aren’t even sure what to say. Fat tears are rolling down your cheeks as you silently cry, sitting on Ellie’s bed as you plead with her to just….fucking listen to you.

The soft sniffle you let out is what finally has her looking in your direction, and she sighs. You look so small, so defeated, and she knows she’s being rough with you right now. For some reason, she doesn’t seem to care.

She puts her hand on her hip, standing near her closet for a moment before she reaches down and grabs the box, setting it on her desk. She walks over to you, standing over you as you stare down at your hands, silently crying on her bed.

“Come on…it’s late and I need to start packing…” She mumbles out, you can’t help but look up at her in disbelief. You had never seen her be this cold towards you, she was always warm and welcoming. This new side of her made you feel sick.

You know there isn’t any use in sitting there and begging her, and you decided you’d save any pride that you had left, and stop yourself from further embarrassment. You stand up, roughly wiping away your tears as you make your way towards her door. When you turn around, opening your mouth to say one last thing to her, she shoves the box into your arms and slams the door in your face.

That was five years ago.

Sometimes if you think about it hard enough, you can still think about those feelings you felt that night. Eighteen years old, heartbroken, confused, sobbing into your pillow as you begged the invisible force that was the universe to explain to you why this happened to you, and what you could have done to change the unforgiving course that your relationship with Ellie took.

And it wasn’t to say that it was sudden, or that you didn’t suspect it, you did. Your break up with Ellie was something that was bound to happen, and you both knew that, it was just her demeanor that made it seemed as though she never cared for you that came as a surprise.

Ever since the final months of your senior year together, your relationship had been estranged. Ellie had been so distant, so focused on college, but so where you. You were both extremely involved with your academic life, with your writing career being so important to you, and Ellie wanting to desperately get out of the small town you both lived in, your lives had been set in stone from the moment you both got your acceptance letters from your colleges.

The thing is, they were nowhere near each other. And you knew that it would be hard to keep a relationship with Ellie. However, you expected things to go differently, to keep in touch with the girl that had grown to be your favorite person in the entire world from the moment she took you under her wing on the first day of ninth grade.

But that isn’t what happened at all. Ellie threw you away, shoving a box of your things into your arms and sending you home without even a simple goodbye before she was getting on a plane to go to Europe for college.

As time went on, you understood why she did what she did, you just wished she’d done it differently.

And maybe you never truly got over the girl that you had fallen in love with when you were so young. Regardless of if it was puppy love or not, it was love, and your youth would never be able to take away from that.

You never truly forgave Ellie either. You got over it, and you one day woke up and figured there was no use in dwelling on something that had already happened, and that you could not change, especially since you were in college as well. You quite literally had the life you dreamed of, and worked for since you were a little girl and you weren’t taking advantage of it because of a girl that broke your heart, and no longer cared about you.

Because you knew Ellie, and you knew that she would be living her life, doing all the things she wanted to do, traveling the world and enjoying herself without anything holding her back.

So that’s what you did, you lived your life. Because no matter how upset you were, no one had the right to rob you of that.

You enjoyed the rest of your time at college, making life long friends and memories, enjoying the life of a young person living in a big city, studying your most loved subjects, even finding a cute girl every once in a while to fill the void that was your love life.

But you did it all with the girl who broke your heart in mind, the wild fire that once burned inside of you and forced countless tears from your eyes succumbing to a few pieces of burnt wood, still glowing from the previous flames that engulfed them.

Calm, but still there.

After college, you took on a few jobs and internships that would benefit your writing career, getting you in touch with good people that would point you in the write direction. You were praised for being a young writer with such a knack for writing, and before you knew it, you had an agent and a publicist who were eager to get your work on the shelves.

The city was loud, and bustling. And while it was amazing for you to party until the sun came up, and to make out with strangers outside of a bar, it wasn’t the best for writing. It was too loud, and you found that your constant state of writers block came from the overwhelming sense of stimulation that came from the city and the people in it.

It’s how you found yourself coming back to your home town during the summer, purchasing a small house in a quiet neighborhood near your parents old house. It’s small, and quiet, and has the prettiest garden with the prettiest flowers. You feel the creativity flowing through your veins the minute you sit down on the couch near your window, the calm breeze blowing through your hair.

And regardless of the fact that it’s your first time home since you left for college, and the sleepy town you grew up in holds so much hurt and pain from your younger years, you’re writing, and you’re happy.

And there’s no harm in making new memories to replace the bad ones.

It’s a normal day for you, the summer breeze is warm and inviting, and you find that these days are the best to take advantage of. The weather is nice, and warm enough that you’re able to lay out and write to your hearts content, but not hot to the point of feeling as though your brain is melting inside of your skull. You find yourself at the park near your house, laid out on a white sheet you brought from home. You chose a spot near the lake under a shady tree.

You were so confident in your newest work, finding yourself smiling like an idiot every time you felt you were typing too fast for your fingers to keep up with your thoughts. You liked it that way, getting so lost in your own little world, making it so easy to avoid the outside world that was around you.

So lost, that you didn’t even hear the low chuckle behind you.

You had to blink a few times, seemingly breaking yourself out of your trance. Your eyes had to adjust a bit to the warm glow of the afternoon instead of the bright morning sun that you remembered looking at when you first got to the park. Your eyes widened a bit when you checked the time, realizing how much time had past. You had spent the entire day writing.

“Writin’ again huh? You gettin’ close to the end?” Joel rasped out.

Joel had always loved you. From the moment Ellie brought you home, he was just as enamored with you as she was. He was used to his daughter bringing home friends all the time, always mixing up the old names with the new ones and opting to give them a polite greeting before she was dragging them up to her bedroom, Ellie always had a thing for picking up strays, he’d tell her.

But you, you were different. He saw the way Ellie’s eyes twinkled when she talked about you, the way her freckled cheeks would burn red every time he mentioned you, and whether or not Ellie wanted to invite you over for dinner. You made his daughter happy, and he loved you for that.

He wasn’t the happiest when he realized Ellie had ended things. Once the smiles that came with the mention of your name turned into aggravated huffs and eager attempts at trying to brush it off, he figured things didn’t end well.

That, and the fact that he spotted you leaving Ellie’s bedroom with a box filled with your things and tears streaming down your cheeks.

He told Ellie that night, that girls like you were hard to find. And that he hoped she at least had the decency to let you down easy, because that’s how he had raised her.

At least he hoped.

The hardest part about coming back home after so long, was that you’d feel lonely. Your parents had sold their house and decided to travel after you left, and while you were extremely happy for them, you couldn’t help but feel empty with a lack of parental guidance and warmth close by.

Joel made sure you were never without it.

When he saw the little house with the cute garden that you always talked about when you were younger had been sold, he figured you were coming back. He made sure to call you before you arrived, the man always keeping your number in his phone, regardless of the fact that his daughter had begged him time and time again to delete it.

Joel was at your door the week you moved in, pulling you into a big bear hug. The smell of his cologne and fresh cut grass almost had you in tears, because it made you remember just how much you missed home, how much you missed him…

How much you missed Ellie.

So, ever since you were back home, Joel never really went a day without seeing you. He’d take you into town to run some errands, you’d drop off some dinner to him once in a while, making sure he was eating and healthy. You’d even made it a tradition to have coffee once a week together.

Joel was lonely, you saw it in his eyes. He missed his daughter dearly and he didn’t seem to handle being an empty nester as well as your parents did. Ellie had done an amazing job at avoiding her home town as much as possible, never visiting for more than a weekend.

Joel needed a kid to look after, and you needed a parent to look after you.

You giggled softly as you closed your laptop and put it in your messenger bag. Joel was already close by, his calloused hand reaching out for yours and helping you onto your feet. You brushed your hand down your dress, getting any wrinkles out before you let out a sigh, shaking your head.

“Unfortunately not. This one’s gonna be a long one…it’ll be worth it though” you nod to yourself as you grab your sheet from the ground. Joel is already on the other side as he helps you fold it up, causing you to smile softly. “What has you out here today? Going into town?”

Joel nods in agreement, “always is kiddo. Always said you were gonna be a big author someday” he gives you a genuine smile, making his eyes crinkle until they were almost gone. He’s so proud of you, he always has been and it’s nearly enough to make your heart melt.

You smile softly as you adjust your bag on your shoulder after you put your sheet inside of it. You and Joel begin walking away from the lake and towards the side walk, and you can already see his pick up truck parked under a shady tree.

“Comin out of town actually, was in need of some groceries” He groans out, causing you to laugh softly. Joel hates grocery shopping, says he gets too distracted and never knows what he’s out of or doesn’t need.

But there’s something else there, his tone is different and you can’t help but feel like there’s something else on his mind. Something bothering him.

You bend your head down a bit, trying to get a better look at the older man’s face before you give him a small hum. “You okay Joel? Something on your mind?” You question softly. You assume he’s just missing his daughter, and you know he’d never come to you to vent about it since he knows how you feel about her.

He lets out a sigh, like he’d been holding it in from the moment he woke up, and it’s all you need to confirm that there is in fact something bothering him.

You’re both standing in front of his car at this point, the summer breeze getting cooler against your skin now that the sun has set. Joel turns towards you so that he’s facing you, and the look on his face has you worried.

He lets out another sigh, and your eyebrows are furrowed in confusion and concern as you stare up at him. “Listen kid..I uh…I can’t lie to you…wouldn’t sit right on my conscience and all…” he lets out, and you’re already scared of what he’ll say next.

“I didn’t…didn’t mean to say, really I didn’t I…it just slipped is all, when I was on the phone with her and..” he sighs softly, pausing for a moment before he starts again.

“Ellie’s coming home..” he dead pans.

And before you can even fully comprehend what he’s saying, you’re eighteen years old again, crying on your bed, begging for an answer, blaming yourself for not being enough. You can’t even fully understand that he basically just said she’s coming back because he mentioned that you’re back, because you suddenly feel like you can’t breath. Any and all progress you had made on yourself, and getting over what she did to you is set back. It’s like you didn’t make any at all to begin with, and your heart is breaking all over again.

Joel must sense that you aren’t okay, because he frowns as he waits for you to say something. He reaches out, pressing his hand against your shoulder. “Kiddo? You with me?” He asks softly, and his rough voice is the only thing that is bringing you back to earth.

You blink your eyes a few times, finally looking into his eyes rather than right through him. His expression breaks your heart, because you know he’s blaming himself for this, and he’s blaming himself for hurting you when that isn’t at all the case.

You give him a sad, small before you nod. “I’m with you Joel…” you mumble softly before you let out a sigh, paired with a half shrug.

“Things with me and Ellie…it happened, and it happened a long time ago and I can’t stop her from coming back, or you from seeing your daughter…I’m okay Joel. I promise” you nod, trying to assure the man that despite the fact that you quite literally just short circuited for a minute, that you are okay.

But he doesn’t buy it. His expression is still worried and concerned as he looks down at you. “C’mon kid…you can talk to me..just because she’s my-“ you giggle softly as you ball up your fist, punching his arm playfully to stop him before you shake your head.

“Im good Joel…it’s been long enough that…it doesn’t bother me anymore” you sigh out, trying to convince not only him but yourself.

You inhale deeply, the breeze forcing leaves to dance around both your feet before you nod towards the direction of your house. “M’gonna head home…enjoy your time with her, okay?” Your words are genuine, because you know how much he needs this, how much he needs her.

He opens his mouth to say something, to explain that although he’s looking forward to his daughter returning, he knows that it isn’t him that she’s returning for. He wants to explain that this visit has been entirely motivated by you.

But he doesn’t, he simply gives you a gentle smile as he nods. “You sure you don’t need a ride home kid?” He calls out as you’re already turning around, making your way down the familiar path that leads to your house.

You smile as you shake your head, turning around a bit as you call out to him. “The walk is good! You gotta get her room ready for her anyways. Night Joel!” You call out, cutting the conversation down completely.

Because you know you can’t do it anymore. You have to create a game plan for yourself to avoid Ellie for the next however many days she’ll be in town. You need to be alone, and in your own space so that you’re able to properly digest the news that you’d just received.

Your ex girlfriend was coming back home. The ex girlfriend that had ripped your heart out and shred it into a million tiny little pieces, that you hadn’t heard from for the last five years, who you were sure you’d go the rest of your life without seeing, was coming back to the small town that you were both from, where it all started.

You were so fucked.

Joel never have you a specific date on when his daughter was coming home, but you figured she was back once Joel’s daily texts and visits had become more sparse.

His silence was your sign to make yourself a scarce as possible. You made sure to only go out for necessities late at night, right before the shops in town closed, or extremely early before anyone in their right mind would be out.

And other than that, you’d stay home. You utilized your backyard for any sunlight you needed to get, and you were practically glued to your favorite couch near the window for a light breeze when wanting to write.

Although you were coming down with a slight case of cabin fever, you were safe from any awkward interactions, and that was fine by you.

You had spent the day cleaning, needing a bit of a reset for the new week coming in. You opened up all the windows, letting in a light breeze and airing out your house as you played music and made your way around your home, washing your sheets and folding laundry. It was therapeutic to you in a way, being able to rest later in the day in a clean home.

And that’s what you were doing now, you were showered and changed into your favorite pair of pajamas, a pair of cotton shorts with little stars on them and a tank top. You were sitting on your wooden floor in your living room, your brows furrowed as you slowly dragged the nail polish brush over one of your toes, trying to find something to do to kill the time before you had to hop into bed.

The windows were still open, a soft breeze blowing in as you hummed a random melody to yourself, your chin pressed against your knee to stabilize yourself as you painted your toes. In that moment you were so content, your head so empty of any racing thoughts that you weren’t even concerned about Ellie, or that fact that she was currently in the same town as you. It didn’t matter to you anymore.

Until you heard a firm knock at your door.

You frowned softly as you looked up at the clock on your wall, and then out one of your windows. It was already far too late for visitors, and you weren’t expecting any anyways. You sighed softly as you blew cool air gently onto your drying toes before carefully getting up, and tip toeing over to your door.

You figured it was your next door neighbor, the old woman becoming somewhat of a friend to you since you had moved in. She often came over needing help to video chat her grand kids, or to drop off some extra pastries she’d made. It worried you a bit that she’d be coming over so late in the night, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you prepared yourself to warn the old woman about the dangers of walking around so late at night, even if it was right next door.

But it wasn’t your sweet next door neighbor. It was Ellie.

You audibly gasp, your eyes going wide as you stare up at her, because you realize in that moment just how long it’s been since you’ve seen her face, and not imagined it.

She’s much taller now, her face is no longer round and youthful, but instead sharper. Her hair is much shorter, the spiky ends laying flat against the nape of her neck. You figure she cut it herself because of that. She’s still sporting the same side part, her brown fringe laying across her forehead and nearly spilling out onto her pretty green eyes.

Her eyes, they’re the same but so much different. They’re still the same shade of emerald you used to love so much, but they seem to be missing something. A certain sparkle that had been there the last few times you saw there isn’t there anymore, and it makes you want to reach out and grab her.

Your hand is gripping your door so hard, you’re sure it was enough to pull the hinges off. You’re at a loss for words, because your ex girlfriend is standing in front of you, and she’s taller, and her features are sharper, and she’s exuding something that she didn’t before all while lacking something that she used to have and….

And you can’t fucking breath.

Just like her father, she can see what’s going on inside your head. She’s chewing at her lip anxiously, because she isn’t sure how much time has passed, but enough has passed that she’s worried about you, and she’s worried about the fact that you haven’t said a single thing.

Ellie steps forward, trying to close the space between the two of you. It doesn’t close, because you back away the second you see her moving. It’s like you’re scared of her, afraid of uttering a single word to the girl in fear that it’ll only create more sorrowful memories that you’ll have to bury with the rest.

You know that if you don’t speak, she won’t leave.

“Ellie?” You breath out, as if you’d been holding it in from the moment you saw her. Ellie realizes how long it’s been since she’s heard you say her name, and now she can’t breath. Your voice hasn’t changed much, and the memories she had of you were becoming more and more blurry with each passing day. Distant echos if your voice calling her name becoming harder to decipher, unable to even tell if it was yours anymore.

But it all comes flooding back when you say it. Memories of you laying your head in her lap, or whispering sweet words in her ear. It’s all coming back in the blink of an eye and she almost can’t handle it.

She breaths out your name as well, and it’s almost like a sigh of relief. Relieved that you remember her, and that she’s standing in front of you and seeing you in the flesh, and not in a dream.

Your eyebrows furrow as she stares down at you, and you make no move to let her in further.

“Why are you here?” You mumble softly, voice thick with defense. You have to protect yourself from her, you promised yourself you would the day she broke you, and you have every intention to keep that promise.

Ellie bites her lips gently before she clears her throat. “I um..I just needed a walk…I got in a few nights ago and uh..Joel told me you lived here now, so..” she trails off. You aren’t sure you’d ever seen Ellie be this fucking awkward. Despite the confidence that oozes from her current appearance, she seems small and nervous and it almost makes you laugh.

You don’t laugh.

You furrow your eyebrows further as you eye her before you roll your eyes, already fed up with the girls excuse. “Joel’s house is on the other side of town, Ellie. Don’t play it off as if you were just in the neighborhood..” you huff out. You can’t help but ice her out, because you’ve held animosity towards Ellie for the last five years. No matter how much you wanted to get over it and be the bigger person, you’re still pissed at her.

Ellie blinks her eyes quickly in shock. She isn’t used to this tone coming from you. Her memories of you were always so sweet, and warm. She knew you wouldn’t take shit from anyone, and it was something she always loved about you.

Just not when you wouldn’t take shit from her.

Her large hand comes up to awkwardly scratch the back of her neck. You feel your insides warm up because you catch a glimpse of the large tattoo that’s covering her hand.

Damn her for getting so fucking hot over the years.

“You got me there…didn’t come as a shock though. You always loved this house” she hummed softly as she looked up at the door, and then down at the pretty flowers that decorated your front yard. It was almost like you in house form.

You tug your bottom lip under your teeth as your eyes avert to your toes, silently cursing yourself because you smudged your pinky during all the excitement that came with seeing Ellie again. You aren’t sure if it’s a good thing, or a bad thing that she remembers little things like that about you.

You figure it’s a bad thing.

You inhale deeply, still staring down at your feet. It’s killing Ellie that you won’t even look at her, she can see the prominent little frown on your face even though you’re looking down. That stupid pout was always her weakness. It’s why she refused to look at you when she broke up with you the night before she flew out to Europe.

“I think it’s best you leave, Ellie…” you mumble softly, suddenly feeling small under the girls gaze. She hates it, because she at least got to stare into your pretty eyes when you were scolding her or being mean to her. But when you were like this….it made it feel worse than all of that.

She knew she deserved it. She knew that what you were now, what you had become, was a result of her own actions. She was the one that did this, she was the one that put you in the position to treat her this way, she knew that…

She just hoped it wouldn’t have been this bad.

She doesn’t say anything, and you take that as an answer enough. You’d rather not stand at your front door being stared at by your ex girlfriend, the only sound being that of the crickets in your garden and the rustling of tree branches in the wind. So, you let out a soft sigh and gently begin pushing your door close, because you can’t take it anymore. You can’t continue being close to her because it still hurts, and you hate that it still hurts after all of this time. It makes you feel pathetic and weak, and you don’t want to deal with it anymore.

But Ellie has other plans.

Her reflexes are just as fast as you remember, because her tattooed hand comes up quickly, palm pressed flat against your door to stop you from closing it on her. The sound of it makes your eyes snap up to hers, and a sense of pride spreads through her chest because she’s finally got your eyes back on her.

She inhales deeply, pink tongue poking out of her mouth as she licks her lips. She has to think fast, and she has to find a way to keep you here because she knows she’s losing you.

“Let me take you out” she blurts out, and it makes your eyes go wide. You used to want nothing more than this, than to have Ellie at your front door, asking you out on a date.

But now that it was happening, it made you feel sick.

You let out a soft sigh, shaking your head as you tried pushing the door further against the strength of her palm. “That’s not a good idea, Ellie…just…go home…” you mumble out tiredly. Ellie almost let’s out a whine because you’re slipping through her fingers again and it seems like everything she tries isn’t fucking working.

“Please.” She begs, and her tone makes you stop pushing. You stand there as she stares down at you, eyebrows knitted as she silently begs you to hear her out, to not shut her out like she did many years ago.

“Just…so we can talk about everything…and then I’ll…I’ll leave you alone. I promise” she breaths out. Her words are genuine, and although it’s been a long time, you know Ellie, and you know when she’s telling the truth and when she isn’t. Regardless of the fact that she doesn’t deserve it, you can’t help but stare up into those pools of emerald and give in to her, just like you always did.

You let out a gentle sigh before you give her a nod. “I…fine…meet me in town tomorrow morning. Your dad has my-“ she cuts you off before you can even go any further.

“Has your number, I know.” She chuckles softly, hoping that she’s able to lighten the mood even a little bit. But you don’t budge, your words are stern and your brows are furrowed as you stare up at her, determined to let her know that this is simply one conversation she’ll be having with you, and not a sign of getting back into your life.

You give her a firm nod before you look out into the dark abyss that was your neighborhood. Where you lived was relatively safe, but you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling you had when thinking about the girl walking home by herself so late, and so far.

“Do you need me to call him for you? I’m sure he’d come pick you up…so you don’t have to walk all the way back” you mumble out softly. Her lips tug into a smile as she watches you, her stomach fluttering with those stupid butterflies you never failed to give her, because the mere fact that you’re worried about her getting home is giving her hope that she can reverse all the bullshit she put you through, completely disregarding the fact that it could one hundred percent be you just being a good person.

“Nah, I’ve got it from here. I’m a big girl…you get some rest though. I’ll see you in the morning” she hums out, and you swear for a moment your transported back to Ellie dropping you off at your house after a date. She’d always whisper the sweetest things to you after giving you an even sweet kiss, and all though her appearance had changed since then, she still had the power of making you swoon every time she bid you a good night.

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. You quickly closed them in fear of saying something stupid before you gave her a quick nod. “Night, Ellie…” you manage to mumble softly, and she gives you her signature charming smile before she jogs off the steps of your porch, and onto the sidewalk that would leave her home, a noticeable pep in her step as she left.

You watch her at your door until she’s out of view, quickly slamming your door shut and letting out a loud huff, your back pressed against the door as you try to recollect yourself and process everything that had just happened.

You stay for a moment longer before you lock your door, close all of your windows and rush upstairs to get to bed, just like Ellie had told you to.

The next morning was not pleasant.

It was one of those days where you hated every single article of clothing that you owned. Every dress was either too long or too tight, all of your tops were either too big or too small, and every pair of jeans just didn’t go with what you had in mind.

Different articles of clothing covered almost your entire bedroom floor, with no stop in sight as you continued to throw shirts and socks behind you from your closet. You let out a loud huff before you fell backwards onto your bed, your hand holding onto the point at which the towel around your body folded so that it would stay closed.

You had been on your fair share of dates since Ellie. A few when you lived in the city, some while you were back home, all of which were fun and things that you looked forward to, none of which making you feel the way you felt while getting ready for this one.

And calling it a date was a complete stretch. All Ellie asked, was to meet over coffee. More than likely so that she could explain herself and give you the closure she assumed you deserved after five years, so that she’d be able to get any guilt she had for leaving you off of her chest.

But still, you were fucking nervous, and you couldn’t ignore the fact that you wanted to make a good impression. You even grabbed your phone a few times, opening your messages with Joel and typing out a pathetic excuse to him explaining that you had work to do, or you had an errand to run and to tell Ellie you wouldn’t be able to make it.

You didn’t, though. You sucked it up, got your ass of of your bed and took a deep breath in before you went back into your closet, determined to find something decent to wear.

After another thirty minutes of rummaging through your closet, you settled on your favorite pair of blue jeans, a white corset style top that had little lace trimming on the ends, and your favorite pair of sneakers just to be comfy.

The early morning sun beaming down on your exposed shoulders was enough to bring you back to earth, giving you a moment to collect yourself before you saw Ellie again. It was truly all out of a dream, or a nightmare, or a really bizarre situation that you didn’t foresee happening at all for yourself.

Ellie was back, and she made her way to your house to ask you out on a…whatever it was you were currently walking into, and you had no idea what would come of any of this or why you even said yes in the first place.

But one thing you knew to stand true, was that you were still hurt, and you weren’t going to let her off easy.

Once you got into town, you gave a few familiar faces a small wave paired with a sweet smile, one of your hands clutching the strap to your bag as you searched for a small bench to sit on while you waited for Ellie, You settled on one underneath a shady tree.

Ellie feels like her heart stops when she gets out of her dads car and spots you. You’ve always been pretty, Ellie would think about your features and try her best to burn them into her memory after she left because you were always the prettiest girl Ellie had ever seen.

But now…god, now you were ethereal. Your face hadn’t changed much, your hair was a bit shorter and it framed your face a bit more, but you had become a woman. You’d grown up, and you had this overwhelming glow to you that made it hard to look away.

And as you sat there, summer breeze blowing through your pretty hair, the rays of the sun casting down onto your beautiful skin, making it look like you were practically sparkling, in the prettiest little top, you looked like a fucking dream come true. Like every persons fantasy come to life.

And it reminded Ellie of what she chased away, of all that she could have had, but couldn’t since she made her bed and was now forced to lay in it.

She almost wanted to get back into the car and run again, run away from you and the feelings you gave her. She knew this was all a long shot to begin with, and that it wasn’t a guarantee of anything, but knowing that she at least at the opportunity to stare into your eyes for a few moments longer, and create more memories with you that were hers and hers only to keep, it made her weak in the knees, and it made her heart beat faster.

And no matter how long she had with you, it was worth it.

Her feet were carrying her towards you before she could even comprehend that she was doing so, like gravity pulling her closer and closer to her life line. It was like she couldn’t breath properly for five years, a strange weight settling in on her chest every time she was alone and had time to think about things.

One that she no longer felt when she was with you.

Her footsteps crunching against the grass make you look up, and it’s almost enough to make Ellie run. Your eyes are so pretty, and she feels like she can get lost in them for hours at a time.

She misses when your face would light up when you saw her, the way your eyes would sparkle and your plump lips would tug into a shy little smile. Now, all she sees when you look at her is sadness, and pain that she’s caused, and it’s killing her because you don’t trust her anymore, and anyone could see that.

You inhale deeply as you stand up, your hand toying with the strap of your bag as you awkwardly stand in front of her. “Hey…” you mumble softly, and you want to die because you should have said no. You should have told Ellie this wasn’t a good idea and that you didn’t want to see her because you’d rather have not done this just to avoid how fucking awkward the entire ordeal is.

And it hurts to know that this is what you’ve become. The person you regarded as one of your favorites for so long had become a complete stranger. Ellie had lived a life for five years without you in it, and you her, and you feel like there’s no use in even speaking to her anymore because you don’t know her, and she doesn’t know you.

Ellie licks her lips as she watches you, her hands balling up into firsts before she shakes them away, trying to shake away the urge she has to reach out and grab you. That’s the hardest part for her, seeing the girl that she’s wanted for the last five years standing right in front of her, and not being able to grab you and wrap you up in her arms.

She clears her throat, looking around a bit at all of the little shops and stores that are currently opening up. Her hands are stuffed in her pocket as she nods towards them. “Any of these places good?” She questions, and you blink a few times before you nod, pointing towards your favorite coffee shop. She smiles softly when she spots the place, because of course your favorite coffee shop is the most adorable one in town.

Soon, you’re both sitting in a tiny booth tucked away in the corner of the empty coffee shop. Ellie insisted she buy both of your drinks, as much as it bothered you to stand next to her and let her pay for your things, you let her because you didn’t want an argument.

Ellie feels like none of this is even real, because you’re sitting across from her and the sun is hitting your skin in the most beautiful way, and your plump lips are sparkling as they wrap around the straw of your drink, and she’s staring, she knows she’s staring but she can’t help herself. You’re a fucking dream to her, and you always will be.

She blinks a few times before she clears her throat, her large hand cupping her white mug. “So, uh…how have you been?” She questions, her voice nervous and unsure of what exactly to ask you.

You scoff gently, your eyes rolling before you speak up. “Seriously Ellie? How have I been? I don’t see it hear from you for five years and we sit down to talk and that’s what you ask me?” You question in disbelief as you stare at her as if she’s stupid. She groans softly, her strong, veiny hands coming up and rubbing her face harshly before she sighs.

“Fuck. Fuck, I know. I’m nervous, okay? It’s been a long time and…I know this is probably really fucking weird for you but..” she sighs softly, worried that if she keeps going she’ll fuck things up with you even further than she already has. She inhales deeply before exhaling, trying her best to gather her words before she tries again.

“I just…you deserve an apology, a real apology and not some bullshit excuse for one. It’s the least I can do” she pleads genuinely, her eyes searching for any sign of getting through to you.

You sigh softly, your fingers toying with the little raised designs on your glass as you avoid Ellie’s eyes. “Was it at least worth it?” You mumble softly, your voice sad and small.

Ellie feels like she’ll break right then and there.

The guilt she’s felt every day since she left you is no match to what she feels when she hears your words. It’s eating away at her, and it’s making it feel like there a weight sitting on her chest that she can’t get rid of no matter what.

She can’t even find the words to explain to you that none of it was worth it. She sabotaged every relationship she made in college because those girls weren’t you, and she was aggravated with them for not being you and that made things even worse. She missed you every single day, and she wanted nothing more than to come home to you after it all.

Ellie inhales deeply, a deep frown painting her face before she sighs. “I think you and I both know the answer to that…” she mumbles out, because she’s too ashamed to admit to you that it wasn’t at all worth it, and that she was wrong.

You hum softly, giving a slight nod as your finger dances along the rim of your glass. “Joel always wants to brag about how great you’ve done…stops himself so I won’t get sad” you chuckle dryly. Ellie sighs softly, knowing her father all too well, and knowing that he took the chance to brag about her whenever he could.

She opens her mouth to apologize for it, but you cut her off.

“I don’t fault you for what you did Ellie…I thought I did, for a long time..” you breath out, pausing for a moment before you start again, giving her a weak shrug. “I just wished you weren’t…so harsh about it…I don’t mean to make you feel bad but it really fucked me up for a while” you admit, trying your best to convey to her that she hurt you, and that it wasn’t okay.

Ellie licks her lips as she listens to you, eyes never leaving your face regardless of the fact that you refuse to look at her. She adjusts herself a bit so she’s leaning forward, wanting to be as close to you as possible before she speaks. “You have…every right to be upset with me. I thought it was a good idea, and doing it as cold as possible just seemed right for us…we were so attached to each other…I got scared that we wouldn’t make it on our own” she sighs out. She’s rambling at this point, and she can’t stop.

“But fuck, I was so fucking young, we were so fucking young. I was barely eighteen and I was traveling across the world to live on my own and…and I was nervous and scared and I…I just felt like since I was getting the one thing I’d wanted for so long, I didn’t deserve to have you too” her voice is tired, and her throat and mouth is getting dry as she goes on and on and it’s making her voice hoarse, but she can’t stop because this is her one chance to explain everything to you.

You finally look up at her from your glass, a soft pout on your lips as you think back to it all. Ellie never felt like she deserved things. Her supportive father, leaving the town she was born in, you, she felt like those good things weren’t meant to be hers. From the moment you met her, you promised her that she did deserve those things, and that she deserved every good thing the world had to offer.

But Ellie always begged to differ.

You hummed softly, nodding in understanding as you stared into her eyes. “It happened, Ellie. You and I can’t change the past. You have your life in the city, and I have mine here..” you nodded slowly, sighing softly as you look out the window.

“I’m happy you came back, and I’m happy we spoke. Joel misses you a lot you know…you should visit him more often” you smile softly as you watched her before you sighed, reaching into your purse and grabbing a few dollars from it. You count it out quickly before you place it on the table. “Here, this should cover mine..” you nod to yourself before you adjust your bag onto your shoulder and slide out of the bouncy booth seat to leave.

Ellie begins to panic as she watches you get ready to leave, because this is her first time seeing you in five years and there’s no way it’s ending so quickly. She needs more time with you, she needs to look at you longer, she needs to hear more about what you’ve been up to.

“You’re leaving already?” She interrupts, she sounds disappointed. You raise your eyebrows as you look back at her before you give her a slight shrug. “We talked, you explained yourself, I listened. That’s all there is too it, right?” You mumble nonchalantly. She’s already on her feet, grabbing the cash you put on the table and pushing it in your direction.

You giggle softly, pressing your palm against her hand and pushing it towards her body. She feels like she might faint because not only is it the first time she’s hearing your sweet giggle in five years, but your soft hand is touching hers. She can feel herself sweating from the small interaction alone.

“I’m not mad at you anymore Ellie…any guilt you have is gone now…” you nod slowly before giving her a half smile. “Have fun with your dad, okay? It was nice seeing you” you finish, giving her a small wave before turning around and walking towards the door of the coffee shop to leave.

Ellie stands in her spot for a moment, frozen as she stares down at her hand, the one you just touched. She blinks out of her trance and rushes out of the shop, chasing after you as you make your way down the side walk. When she catches up to you, she’s breathing heavily. Your eyes widen as you turn around and catch sight of the talk girl standing in front of you.

“Lemme give you a ride home” she blurts out, causing you to furrow your eyebrows a bit as you watch her. You watch her for a moment, not saying a word, because despite everything, and despite the fact that you gave Ellie a chance to explain herself, you’re still weary of her, and you’d still prefer to keep her out of your life.

But, in typical Ellie fashion, she has other plans.

Knowing she won’t take no for an answer, you eye her for a moment longer before sighing softly and giving her a slight nod. You figure the sun is extremely warm today anyways, and the walk would have you dripping in sweat by the time you made it home anyways.

The drive home reminds you of when you and Ellie were dating.

You loved watching Ellie when she drove. Her strong hand loosely gripping the steering wheel, her other draped over her own thigh (her favorite spot used to be your thigh), tongue poking past her pink lips as she concentrated on the road, her favorite song playing on the radio, wind blowing through her pretty brown hair.

It was extremely fucking hard to not gawk at her the whole way home.

She struggled too. You looked so pretty sitting next to her, her little passenger princess. Ellie loved doing things for you, she loved feeling needed by you. Providing for you was one thing that made her feel like the best possible girlfriend she could ever be to you.

And even now, when you wouldn’t even utter a single syllable to her in the passenger seat of her dads car, she still felt her chest warm up at the fact that she was driving you home.

The car came to a slow stop once she pulled up to your house, parking in the empty drive way as she turned the car off. She hums softly, her hands falling to rest on her spread thighs as she stares at your house.

You clear your throat a bit before your grab your bag off of your lap, pulling the strap onto your shoulder before you open the door for yourself and give her a small smile. “Thanks Ellie…” you breath you. She gives you a slight nod paired with a smile as she watches you.

But you don’t move.

You know you shouldn’t, but you truly can’t stop yourself from speaking the words that are hanging off your tongue. You inhale deeply before you blurt out “do you…wanna come inside? It’s just so hot and I can get you something to drink before you leave-“ Ellie’s eyes go wide as she hears your words, and before you have time to finish, she cuts you off.

“Yes!” She slightly shouts, causing you to flinch. She clears her throat, quickly giving you a nod as she tries to compose herself. “I mean…yeah…yeah sure I’ll come in. M’not doing anything today..” she breaths out almost sheepishly as she watches you with love sick eyes.

You stifle a laugh as you nod, getting out of the car and walking down the little flowered path that leads to your home. Anxiety fills up your chest because Ellie is standing behind you as you open your door for you both, and you can’t properly count how many times you’ve truly imagined this, but it’s finally happening and you’re losing your mind.

When you finally manage to open the door, Ellie almost falls to her knees because your home is every thing she imagined it would be. It’s filled with all the little things that make you, you. She can even spot a few things that you had when you were younger, and it makes her wonder if you have anything from her still.

You lead her to your living room, letting her know that she can make herself at home before you go into the kitchen. You pour her a big glass of peach sweet tea with ice before you bring it back to her.

Her eyes light up when she spots the drink, and instantly takes it. “Shit, you still make this? My dad talks about it all the time” she rushes out before she takes a large gulp, the girl almost finishing half the glass. You giggle softly as you watch her, humming as you give her a gentle shrug. “It’s a good recipe..can’t let those go, you know?”

Your words can be applied to something else, you both know it.

She sighs softly as she sets the glass down. You raise your eyebrows when you see some of the drink running down her chin. “You’ve got a little…just…uh” you mumble softly as you bend down a bit, bringing your thumb to her chin and swiping it off.

It’s your first time being this close to her, and she feels like the world has stopped right then and there.

Her big green eyes are staring down at you as you wipe the tea off her face, and she clears her throat to hold back any groaning that she’ll do since you’re this close. The noise is what snaps you out of it, and you quickly move away from her, mumbling a quick apology.

Ellie blinks a few times, her cheeks red as she tries to compose herself for a moment. She inhales deeply, opening her mouth to apologize herself before you speak up. “I’ll just…take the glass so you can be on your way..” you mumble softly, reaching down and trying to take the glass.

A loud clap of thunder makes you flinch, a small gasp leaving your lips as you look outside. The heat from earlier has brought in a thick blanket of dark grey clouds that have covered the entire sky. Lightning flashes across the sky before another clap of thunder rumbles through your home, causing Ellie to groan as she stands up.

“Fuck…that one’s gonna be bad…I better get going before it-“ she’s cut off by the harsh sound of the sudden rain fall slamming onto the ground outside, causing her to sigh loudly.

The rain is hard, and heavy, and extremely unforgiving. You’re both staring outside your window as you watch the storm force everything outside to go blurry with the white cast that the heavy water droplets bring.

“You’re not driving in that” you say sternly, quickly moving towards your windows and making sure they’re all shut so that nothing will get wet. Ellie raises her eyebrows as she watches you, knowing all too well that she’d want nothing more than to stay, and the fact that you’re insisting makes her heart flutter with joy.

“It’s not that bad…I wouldn’t want to intrude or anything..” she mumbles softly as she walks towards your other window to make sure they’re closed as well. You watch her from the corner of your eye before you quickly shake your head. “And I wouldn’t want you getting in a car accident. You can leave once it lets up a bit” you nod to yourself, not giving the girl any room for argument.

Ellie bites back a smile as she nods, trying not to get too ahead of herself.

The storm lasts longer than expected.

What usually is a short summer shower turned out to be a full blown storm that lasted well past sundown. You and Ellie got past the awkward silence that came with her staying over longer much quicker than expected.

You were both sitting on the floor of your living room, Monopoly splayed out between the both of you as you cheated Ellie of her money for the third time that game. Ellie groaned loudly, counting out the few rainbow colored bills before she threw them onto the floor.

“You fucking got me again. I’m broke, I can’t afford anymore property” she grumbles out. You giggle softly, repositioning your countless cards and bills as you shrug. “Shouldn’t have let me be banker then” you hum softly. Ellie smirks softly as her eyes watch you, her heart swelling with how fucking domestic this all felt.

She’d let you rip her heart out of her body if you wanted. Whatever you wanted, she’d give it to you.

You rested your chin on your knee as you stared at the board for a moment before looking over at her. “You always sucked at this game” your words are soft as you think back to the countless nights you’d stay up together playing cheesy board games together. You loved seeing her brows furrow in frustration every time you miraculously beat her once again, adding to your winning streak.

She smiled softly as she nodded, her eyes never leaving yours as she hummed. “You’re just too fucking good” she chuckles softly. Her words make your insides twist with delight, and you know you can’t look at her. Because she’s most definitely doing that stupid smirk that makes you burn from the inside out, and it makes you want to leap over this stupid board game and tackle her stupidly pretty face.

She notices your lack of a response, she takes it as an opportunity.

“I really miss you, blossom..” the nickname is one you haven’t heard in years. It was Ellie’s, and Ellie’s only. She came up with it soon after she had first met you, said it’s cause you reminded her of the prettiest spring flower she’d ever seen.

It makes you pause, stopping dead in your tracks as you began packing away the board game. Ellie knows she’s done it now, but she keeps going.

“And I know I don’t deserve it, but if you can just-“ your words cut off hers, because her voice is pleading and it almost sounds like she’s fucking begging you to hear her out.

“Ellie.” You warn her. She inhales deeply, pushing the board aside to move closer towards you. Her movements are slow, because she wants to give you the opportunity to stop her if you need to.

“Please…just…” she sighs out, her voice thick with a need for you as she places her long, veiny fingers under your chin, tilting it up slightly to force you to look into her eyes. When you do, you feel the air is knocked out of your chest. Her gaze is heavy and intense and she’s so fucking close. Her other hand comes down, pushing your knees apart so that she can make her way between the space of your legs.

“I know I haven’t been around, and I know what I did was wrong but just….please give me a chance to fix it…just one…I promise I won’t fuck this up..” she breaths out. She’s so close that you can feel her breath wafting against your lips. It makes you whine softly, and it makes her feel like she can’t fucking control herself.

Your eyes dart back and forth between her lips and her eyes. Your head is so clouded with her, she’s filling you up to the brim and..

And you don’t want it to stop.

You stare up into her eyes, your own big and needy before you give her a soft nod. It’s all she needs to cup your face with both of her big hands, and kiss you passionately.

You moan softly into her mouth, your hand coming up and gripping her tattooed wrist as she dominates the kiss. Memories from your past with her comes flooding in, because her lips feel exactly like you remember, her so different.

You can tell how much older she is now, how much older you both are. Kisses that were once sweet and innocent are no passionate and heavy. Her need for you is practically pouring into your mouth as she kisses you, it’s sloppy and needy and she uses any opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth.

You gasp softly against her, and that’s when she does it. Her tongue is swirling around your mouth, wanting to explore every crevice of you so that she can remember it for the rest of her life. She’s crawling into you, pushing you back so that your back hits the edge of your couch.

“Ellie…” you moan out softly, your hands coming down to tug at her t shirt as you kiss her harder. The sound of your voice drives her further to do more for you. She nods gently as she brings her hand down to undo the clasps of your top. “I’m right here baby…I’m right here…” she sighs out as she begins removing your clothes.

You whine softly, because soon enough you’re nearly bare in front of her. You’re only in a pair of your cotton panties and you can’t help but bring your arms up to shield your chest from her. She frowns softly as she looks down at you, gently pulling your arms away as she leans in to press a loving kiss to your lips. “Don’t hide from me princess…it’s just me..” she hums softly against your lips.

And you know it’s just Ellie, but it’s hard because she’s not you’re Ellie anymore. She hasn’t been your Ellie for five years and it makes it feel like you’re bare in front of a stranger, all while being bare in front of the person you’ve wanted for such a long time, the person you’ve yearned for. It makes your head spin, and it makes it hard to breath and focus on Ellie’s lips on yours.

She knows it, because you’re struggling to kiss her back. She pulls back gently, bringing her hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You with me baby? You need me to stop?” She questions genuinely, her eyes searching yours for any sign of reassurance that you may need as her other hand strokes your arm gently.

You bite your lip as you stare up at her, and you know that if you open your mouth and speak, you’ll break down. You know that if you give in and tell her what’s on your mind, you’ll dig yourself in a deeper hole than you already are in.

Instead, you simply remove your hands from your chest and grab Ellie, pulling her closer and smashing your lips against hers in a needy kiss.

She knows better, she knows something is going on inside your mind. She knows that she needs to go further and make sure you’re okay, but she can’t ignore how good you feel against her, and how long she’s wanted you in this exact position.

She groans softly against your lips as one of her hands travels down to your body. Her skilled fingers pull and tug at your nipple between her fingers, causing you to moan into her mouth before she continues to travel down your body. Her hand finds it’s way between your legs, and she hisses the second she cups your clothes pussy.

“Fuck…so fuckin’ wet for me…you poor thing…” she groans softly. You moan softly as you break the kiss, looking down at the sinful sight that is her hand between your legs, rolling small circles onto your clit. She groans softly, her other hand grabbing your chin as she angles your face up and chases your lips. “Nah uh…need you here baby, need that pretty mouth while I’m playing with your pussy, got it?” She mumbles out, her voice hoarse. Her dominant tone makes your pussy ache, and you nod obediently as you let her back in, kissing her hungrily.

She hums softly as she continues kissing you as she rubs your clit, your slick covering the entire front of your panties. Ellie smirks softly as she finally breaks the kiss, needy to see the mess you’ve made, the mess you’ve made for her. She groans softly as she pulls your panties to the side, hissing softly as she rubs your bare clit a few times before she slips two fingers into you.

“Look at that…so fucking pretty…Jesus Christ…” she whispers out as she stares at your sopping pussy. You moan loudly once her fingers slip into you, your eyes rolling back as your head hits the edge of your couch.

“F-fuck Ellie…right there…fingers feel so..mmm…so good” you moan loudly for her, your back arching up off the edge of the couch as you wiggle and squirm beneath her. Ellie marvels at your body like it’s a work of art, groaning softly as her long fingers fuck up into your weeping cunt.

“Wish you could see yourself, Angel…prettiest fucking girl I’ve ever seen” she groans out as she stares down at your body, her other hand coming up and caressing your body before she cups your boob, giving it a firm squeeze before she moves down to catch your nipple into her mouth, swirling it around her tongue before sucking harshly on your skin.

You cry out for her, your body feeling extremely sensitive as she works on you. She makes sure to not leave any part of you without attention. You moan softly as you look down at her, your swollen bottom lip tugged between your teeth as you tug at her hair, your eyes low, hazy and lust filled as you whine for her.

“M’so close Els…mm…fuck…I can’t fucking…ahh” you cry out, already so fucked out you’re barely able to finish your sentences properly. She smirks softly against your skin before releasing your nipple with a pop, giving you an urging nod as she stares into your eyes. “Come on baby, give it to me…let it out for me, that’s it…” she groans out as she stares at you.

You whine softly as you stare into her eyes. It’s so intense, and it feels like so much more than her just fucking you with her fingers. It’s heavy, and it feels like your missing half is finally back with you after so long.

You’re moaning and whimpering and huffing for her as she works on your pussy, her fingers toying with you as if she knew you like the back of her hand. You want to hold on longer, and make this moment as long lasting as possible. Your eyes squeeze shut as you moan out for her loudly, your back arching almost painfully as you cum hard all over her fingers, moaning her name like a mantra.

Ellie feels like she’s seeing fireworks. She stares at you in awe as you come undone beneath her. It’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen, it’s raw and real and it’s you, and she wants to burn it into her memory for the rest of her days.

“That’s it…that’s my good fucking girl…Jesus Christ you’re so fucking beautiful…fuck…” she groans out, and you’d swear she was the one who just came the hardest she’s ever had in her entire life.

Her praises make you whimper as you come down from your orgasm, whining softly as her fingers slow down and slip out of your sore pussy. She leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You’re so fucked out, that you hardly realize you’re being lifted off the ground and up into Ellie’s arms.

You hum softly as you nestle your face into Ellie’s neck as she gently rests you on your bed, pressing a soft kiss to your head. “I’ll be right back baby…okay?” She mumbles softly as she pushes the hair on your face back. You mumble a quiet response to her as you cuddle into your soft sheets, your bare body cold in the open air of your room.

Ellie returns with a rag from your bathroom with warm water, and she smiles softly at you. Seeing you cuddled up on the bed warms her heart, and she feels like she’s falling in love with you all over again.

She gently pushed your thighs apart, cleaning you up as gently as possible. You don’t seem to mind much, the sound of the rain against your window is enough to lull you into a gentle sleep, which makes her chuckle softly as she leaves the room and tosses the rag into your hamper.

She quickly finds a t shirt for you to wear, slipping it over your body before she tucks you into bed, smiling softly when you cuddle into your pillow almost immediately. Ellie quietly pulls her jeans off, leaving her only in her t shirt and her boxers before she crawls into bed right next to you. She pulls you close by your waist, humming as she pressed her nose into your hair and inhales deeply, the scent of you making her mind floor with memories of you and her in the past.

She sighs softly, her eyes looking towards the window as the harsh rain continued pelting down onto your window before her own eyes closed, her fingers drawing small shapes into your skin as she held you close against your chest.

And as you drifted off into a deep sleep with each passing moment, all you could think about was Ellie, and how much pain she had caused you in the past.

And how much harder it would be to get over it than you thought.

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie x y/n #ellie the last of us #ellie x you

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decolonize-the-left · 11 months

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(to preface this, i am white. figured i should make that known off the bat) i wanted to come bounce an idea off of you that i've been rolling around in my head for a bit. i have this pet theory that, for the population ill call here "white progressive queers who know very little about poc and racism", a large underpinning of this group's interaction with poc is a Fear of Fucking Up and more generally, moral purity thought. they (maybe even "we"- im still hopefully learning myself) get so paralyzed by this idea and line of thinking that goes something like this: "1) since i know nothing about poc & racism, then 2) clearly in discussions about these topics, i will fuck up and say something wrong or perhaps even Bigoted, which if i did 3) makes me an Irreparable Ontologically Evil Racist, hence 4) i should just be quiet and never ask questions/speak on these topics" which then results in said White Progressive Queer and those around them never learning. i wanted to know what you think abt this and tell me if im on the mark or not

also thank u for the work u do on this blog, ive found so many helpful resources through you

You're right. In my experience that's exactly how it is.

I want to add tho: yes they're uncomfortable that they might fuck up and be considered racists sure, but a huge part of that stems from the massive inability to place the discomfort where it belongs. Which is with their own guilt.

Instead they blame the conversations for making them uncomfortable.

And let's take some worthy notes here: this is not how white people feel all the time. Because white people are not uncomfortable making these fuck ups in front of other white people.

So it's not that the conversation is uncomfortable. They are made uncomfortable. And they are made uncomfortable because even when discussing anti-racism they step into the role of oppressor (the little fuck ups or accidentally bigoted comments) so naturally and God forbid other (not white) people can See how easy it is.

My advice for white people that are like this (that nobody asked for) is

Your fuckups do not define you but how you react to them does

Listen, respect, learn

That's it. That's the whole list. Say something bad? Apologize, but don't over-explain yourself. Ask how to fix it. Google how you fucked up so you understand why it wasn't okay. Google again to get idea of how your fuck up hurts people. Google some more to make sure you don't do it again. Go to some safe space and ask some clarifying questions. Listen, respect, learn.

Maybe the people you fucked up with don't forgive you and that's okay, they don't have to. But YOU won't ever make anyone feel bad or less than in the same way ever again and that's what matters.

Having one less person making racist comments matters even if it's a struggle for that person to get to that point.

I need y'all to understand that none of you are gonna just wake up being suddenly perfect anti-racist allies. And we will literally never ever have allies like that if y'all refuse to even sit with your own discomfort.

•°•°•

This weird morality issue white people have over looking racist is also just such a non-problem. Like if y'all want a PoC perspective: white people are already being racist ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ ....we Already see y'all as racists. And also I'm gonna experience racism anyway so I'd rather it be because someone was just being ignorant on the path to anti-racism.

Y'all are so worried about how shit Looks that you can't be bothered how really things are? Like you're so afraid of looking racist you'd allow yourselves to continue being actually ignorant and casually racist. And to avoid what? Being uncomfortable for a minute? Being called-out? A mean comment?

We are trying to stop hate crimes and genocide. Like that's what we are dealing with okay. Accountability for your actions is an acquired taste but I think y'all can handle some discomfort considering.

#every time im confronted with the idea that white feelings are why BIPOC are being killed daily i get umhinged tbh #like i might die if i call the cops cuz YOUD feel bad if you talked about racism? AND YOURE JUST KEEP NOT DOING IT?? WHY #asked #answered #sorry #some asks just like #do this to me #white people like this make me wanna shake them back and forth viscerally #whiteness

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emphistic · 3 months

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"Buttface"

Things Reader Should Acknowledge: I THINK IVE FINALLY GOTTEN THE HANG OF TUMBLR (hip hip hooray!), i plan on having yuuji being sukuna's baby brother, however, yuuji hasnt been born yet

Prologue: Ever since Sukuna moved in next door, you two have grown closer. Like, impossibly close. One might even call you two "friends;" albeit Sukuna would always shut that idea down. But one thing Sukuna wouldn't shut down? — is that he loves to see you smile. And he would do anything to hear your laugh, over and over again.

A/N: this is in the same universe as "I'm Lactose Intolerant", and while the ages of sukuna and reader dont really matter here, i wrote this with the idea of sukuna being 14 years old and reader is 13 years old (feel free to change that to whatever you desire), brownie points to whoever recognizes the movie that sukuna and reader are watching

Please REFRAIN from REPOSTING MY WORK (REBLOGS ARE EXEMPTED FROM THIS RULE)

"This movie is stupid."

"You think everything is stupid, Stupid." You quip back, flicking Sukuna's forehead.

"Touché." He scoffs, and crosses his arms over his chest before leaning further back into the couch. You put your legs on his lap.

You grin to yourself, wondering if he really didn't notice that you called him by the name "Stupid". Then you think, he's probably just in a good mood, and go back to watching the comedy playing on the screen.

"I mean, how can it take you so long to figure out that someone who looks exactly like you is actually your long lost twin sister?" Sukuna moves his hand around to somehow make his point seem more valid.

"Besides, isn't this supposed to be a comedy? Where's the humor in this? This isn't funny, at all," Sukuna drones on — until you decide that you've finally had enough.

"This isn't funny? Well . . . it's not like you're funny, either." You stick your tongue out at Sukuna, in a teasing manner — to which he does the same.

"That's just what you think. I bet you didn't even know that all your friends come to me during break just to listen to me talk. In fact, most of the time, I'm not even trying to joke around, I'm just that naturally funny," Sukuna wore a smug look on his face.

"Sure, 'Kuna. They're just laughing because you have such a funny face. Sometimes I even get you mixed up with a chihuahua, you know."

"Oh really?" Sukuna glares at you, and gets closer to your face.

You copy him, "Yes — really."

At this point, the tips of your guys' noses were just centimeters away from touching. You could practically feel his warm breath on your face.

Woah.

Now you could hear your own breathing quicken.

Since when were Sukuna's eyes so red?

Your cheeks felt warm.

Why are his eyes so, so—?

"Buttface." Sukuna interrupts the silence.

You get pulled back to reality. "What did you just call me!?"

"What, you deaf now? I called you 'buttface,' Dumbass."

"Seriously, someone needs to control your vocabulary."

"Pft, I don't need any controlling."

You laughed, "Sure, Sukuna. Sure."

The movie ended, and the credits rolled. Sukuna grabbed the remote and turned the TV off, before getting off the couch.

"Want something to drink?" He peered over his shoulder at you, raising a brow.

"Ah, sure. Lemonade."

"Too bad, I ain't getting it for you," Sukuna stuffed his hands into the pockets of his sweats and walked off — to the kitchen, you assumed.

You grumbled, and threw a pillow at his back. It just bounced off, though, and you sighed.

He returned minutes later, with a glass of lemonade in his hand. Which was a clear sign he was trying to aggravate you, because he's expressed multiple times his strong detesting of the refreshing drink. (You completely disagree with him, by the way.)

"Dude, seriously?" You frowned.

"Totally serious. I mean, I couldn't resist. This glass of lemonade was just calling my name." He took a sip.

"It is so good."

Another sip.

"Shame you don't have a glass yourself."

And another sip.

You were practically ripping out your hair at this point. "C'mon, 'Kuna. If you won't get me a glass, can I just have a tiny sip of yours?" You entreated him with all your might.

Sukuna rubbed his chin with his thumb and index finger, pretending to think about his decision. Finally, he said, "What's with that name you keep calling me? And — what's the magic word?"

You huffed, "Please?"

He gestured for you to go on.

You clasped your hands together in a desperate, beggar-like manner. "Pretty please, Sukuna? Just a teensy weensy sip? For poor ol' me."

"Hmm, let me think. How about . . . no."

You gawked at the pink haired boy.

"WHAT."

"You heard me."

"Aghhh!" You jumped on Sukuna, trying to grab the glass of lemonade yourself. If he wasn't going to share, you just had to take matters into your own hands — literally.

Your attempts were fruitless, however; Sukuna just kept on raising the glass higher and higher above his head, to the point you couldn't even reach his wrist. Damn him and his stupid growth spurt.

His hand starts to shake as you try to climb him like a tree. Next thing you know, your wish is answered. You got your lemonade. Except, not in the way you had hoped. The lemonade was everywhere. On your clothes, Sukuna's clothes, the couch, everywhere.

"Oh shit." This time, you didn't correct Sukuna's obscene language.

The room became so silent that you would be able to hear a pin drop.

"Sukuna!" You whisper-shout. (You had no idea why you were whispering.)

"Don't look at me, this was your fault!" His hand still held the now empty glass.

"Me? This was all you," you retorted, jabbing a finger into the older boy's chest.

"Sureee, Y/N. Let's just forget about the fact that you were practically climbing my body."

You blushed.

"You could've just gotten your own cup of lemonade, but no, you just had to spill mine."

You scoffed, "Well, you could've shared, but you didn't — because your shellfish."

Sukuna looked at you funny, "Do you mean 'selfish'?"

"Same thing, you know I make mistakes with pronunciation."

He shrugged. Then, a great idea popped into your head.

"Your mess," you exclaim, before pushing off of Sukuna and darting away, only to be pulled back by your hood.

"Hey!" You shout, falling back onto Sukuna's chest.

"This is your mess. You caused this, remember?"

You groaned, turned around, and tackled Sukuna. You guys ended up rolling off the couch altogether. Pillows were thrown, and the lemonade spread onto the carpet.

"Let go of my foot, you big oaf!" You yelled, shoving at Sukuna's face.

"Not until you admit this was all your fault." He continued to wrestle with you on the ground.

"In. your. dreams."

You guys continued to fight, which made the mess even bigger. It felt like hours had passed. Hours where you still didn't get even a sip of lemonade. Then, you heard the sound of keys, and next thing you know; your parents walked in.

Your heartbeat hammered in your chest.

Your mom and dad took one good look at the two of you on the floor, and your mom said, "Knock it off, you two. And clean up the couch. I don't want my living room smelling like lemonade for the rest of the year." They walked into the kitchen.

You turned back to look at Sukuna, just to find him already staring at you. You guys continued to stare at each other before bursting out into laughter. Tears were basically streaming down the both of your guys' faces at this point.

Your mom yelled from the kitchen, "Ah, young love these days. So different from us — right, honey?" Your dad responded with a loud chuckle.

Looking down, you realized the position you were in. Sukuna lying on his back beneath you, while you were sitting on top of him. The expression on your face immediately soured.

You and Sukuna pulled away from each other in record timing, both of your expressions clearly, visibly flustered.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #sukuna x you #ryomen x reader #jjk x you

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remcycl333 · 8 months

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some thoughts on imagination and fulfilling ALL your desires, no matter how small ♡

hiii! just wanted to share with you guys some things ive been thinking about lately and a new discovery!

so first of all! i went through a little phase this previous weekend where i could not imagine for the life of me. i just could not concentrate, and i kept hyperfixating on every little sound in my room and it was very frustrating. i also could not fall asleep because i usually use daydreams to lull myself to sleep and i couldn't daydream! it was very frustrating.

(side note--at one point i wished that my room would just be silent and then i lost power for a few hours and my room WAS dead silent for a while, lol)

but then i was scrolling thru loatwt, like i do, and i found this acct @/scriptercas and they made a couple of posts about the way they imagine (i like this one too) and i tried it that night and i was DEEP in my imagination for like an hour straight. like me??? adhd aphantasia me???

i know that a lot of you guys are like me and have aphantasia and therefore can't see mental images and you can get discouraged by imagining, but this is definitely my new holy grail and i think this will work so well for you guys too!

(p.s. if you guys are into shifting, that account has some great advice! i'd really recommend!!)

i also recently re-read edward art's series, which i have mentioned in recent posts. once again, i know ive also said this recently, but i highly highly highly recommend reading it (or listening, there's also an audio form) if you haven't already! even if you just read the first five parts. i swear if you are still struggling to fully grasp the law, after you read it you will get it. it's so good.

i bring this up because in a lot of the parts, edward talks about building the habit of fulfilling every single desire--no matter how small--that you have, as it comes to you. and i've just been ruminating on this so much lately.

i remember at the beginning of my loa journey, there would be things that i wanted and i'd kinda mourn the fact that i didnt have them... when i didn't have to. i could've just fulfilled myself. but instead i had the idea in my head that "i'll manifest my sp first, and THEN i can get my desire of receiving flowers." or, "i'll manifest money first, and THEN i can buy the expensive things i want" or "i'll manifest my new apartment, and THEN i can host dinner parties for my friends" etc.

but what i've been thinking about lately--prompted by edward--is that you dont have to want for anything anymore. i can give myself any and everything i want in my imagination. i don't have to wait to manifest something else first.

this has really bolstered my imagination game as well. everything you want to do with or experience once you have your desire, you can have/experience in your imagination right now. and it really adds to your imaginings. it really helps immerse you more and helps you capture the feeling of it being real.

for example, when i was manifesting my apartment, i had sooo many things i wanted to experience once i'd manifested it. i wanted to have my friends over for game night and cook them dinner and make them cocktails. i wanted to bake in my spacious kitchen and have fancy utensils and expensive ingredients. i wanted to shower in my fancy shower and use expensive bath products. i wanted my own vanity stocked with expensive makeup and perfumes. i wanted a large walk in closet with rows and rows of gorgeous clothing. i wanted to come back from a night out and leave my clothes strewn about the bathroom bc i was too drunk to put them away, and no one was gonna see them or yell at me for leaving them there. like some of the things i desired for were so mundane, yet i felt the absence of them in my life every day. for example: living close to a target, being able to make adventurous meals without worrying if my family members would like them, playing video games with my friends in my own living room.

everything i just listed were things i wanted so badly once i had my apartment, but whenever id run into the opposite in my every day life, i wouldn't fulfill myself at first. like i'd go to cook the same old dinner i cooked for my family every other night and i'd be like "ugh i wish i could be in my own apartment where i did the grocery shopping and i could buy fresh ingredients and make an elaborate meal instead of just having pasta and jarred sauce again." but then i realized that if i were in my dream apartment i would be able to do that. i spent so much time imagining waking up in my new apartment and what it would look like, but in the end, imagining stuff like this is what really helped me to fulfill myself and catch the feeling of the wish fulfilled.

i was really reminded of that whenever i re-read edward's series, and now im applying it to my new desires as well. it's so funny that no matter how much i manifest or how much i learn i always find myself forgetting little tidbits like that that really help me and are very valuable.

anyway i just wanted to make this post to help you guys a little maybe! i was just in the shower and i was remembering edward saying to fulfill every little desire you have--not matter how small-- and i was remembering the days i used to imagine myself in my current shower, and id close my eyes and imagine the scent of the shampoo i wanted to get and i'd feel where every individual bath product would be placed once i had my own shower. and all that inspired me to write this!

i hope that this helps you guys out and/or gives you imagination motivation! i feel like it's important to imagine all the small things that pertain to your desire that maybe you overlook while imagining, but that you know you deeply yearn for even if u think they're mundane or that you'll just get them once you get your big, overarching desire <3

#law of assumption

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jinkicake · 2 years

Text

inappropriate affairs

Inappropriate places he likes to fuck you.

Itto, Ayato, Thoma, Tighnari x Reader

A/N: I apologize in advance, this is not nearly as smutty as I wanted it to be. It takes me like 300 words to set up the scene and then I end up getting too lazy to finish it looooollllll,,, i’ll do better i promise (honestly this is not the first tighnari smut ive written.... i have an old draft from when he first came out where he chases you and then fucks you teehee)

WC - 2.3kish

SMUT // NSFW ((reader w a pussy))

~~~

Arataki Itto

“Itto, I swear to every archon that I will kick your ass.” Despite your threats, Itto continues to run his large hands along your sides. There’s a heavy grin spread across his lips as he cups your hip and brings you between his spread thighs. You tightly grip the bars of your cell but your strength is no match for an oni’s.

Yes, a cell since Itto landed the two of you in jail again.

“Easy there,” He laughs loudly, shoulders shaking as his head tilts back against the stone wall of the empty establishment. Ushi moos loudly outside the window, no doubt spilling where every and any exit is to escape from. “don’t be mad at me, pretty-”

You forcefully slap his hand away, swatting at his wrist with a wave of anger that rivals the electricity cracking above from the clouds.

“Ushi, go stay with Kuki.” You whisper yell through the open window covered with bars that you can’t fit through. The cow gives you a determined nod before wandering off to where the rest of the gang must be. You would also be there if Itto had kept his hands to himself. “We are here because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants, you understand that, right?” Itto nods eagerly and you can tell that he isn’t listening to a word you are saying. He’s staring intensely at you, more specifically at your arms crossed over your chest. If only the leader would have been staring at the officials in front of you instead of your ass then neither of you would have been caught and placed in this predicament.

It’s hard to remain angry as you glare at your boyfriend, you have some sort of idea about what it’s like being distracted by obscene clothing. But, your shorts are nothing compared to his bare abdomen on display every single day. Even now, you find it difficult not to let your eyes drop to his defined muscles and the large tent forming in his pants.

“If we fuck right now, you better stay quiet.” Just like all of your threats to the oni, this one went completely in one ear and out the either.

“Archons, Itto, shut up!” You screech as the large man plows you from behind. Your grip on the iron bars of the cell starts to falter as his thick cock penetrates deep into your cunt. It’s a miracle that you can even stand up straight with the way your legs are shaking. Itto is in his own world as loud moans spill past his lips and ricochet off the walls. Like all things about him, Itto is loud (especially so during sex). His intense thrusts and fast pace causes the entire holding to shake and in the back of your mind, you fear that the whole place is going to come crumbling down. That would be one way to exit.

“Can’t help it,” Itto grunts as his hands tighten on your hips, his head falls back as his balls slap against your ass. The sharp pain makes him wince and ultimately brings him more pleasure than before. “fuck, baby.” With how he is already groaning, you know Itto will cum soon. You don’t think about the consequences of it, not about how his cum is going to leak out of your cunt and dry between your thighs or how you’ll have to face public officials with his cum spilling down your legs.

You’re never going to get out of here.

Kamisato Ayato

“I’m bored. Let me have my fun, darling,” Ayato will be the death of you, you’re sure of it. He’s impossibly stubborn and has a burning desire that only you can satisfy.

But, you can only calm him down so many times per day.

“Your next meeting starts in twenty minutes, I am not trying this right now,” You snap and push away his wandering hands. It will take you at least ten minutes to get your kimono situated properly once again after the damage Ayato has currently done to it. He longs to touch your thighs, hold and squeeze the delicate sums of flesh.

“Thoma, bring in a blanket for the kotatsu.” Ayato in the end always gets what he desires. “It’s quite cold today, isn’t it?” His innocent smile doesn’t go over your head and you watch him with a stern glare as he innocently drinks from his cup.

Thoma greets the two of you with a warm smile and announces the arrival of whom you’ll be spending the next meeting with. The thick blanket is spread across the large table, covering your body from the waist down but Ayato makes no move to turn the heater on.

It comes as no surprise when you feel his touch on your ankle a handful of minutes later. The boring meeting has just begun and he’s starting off with innocent touches. You make it a point to ignore him and try to focus on the commissioner in front of you. Ayato’s gentle strokes of his fingers turn into sensual rubs, a touch that you know all too well. The pads of his fingertips are soft and the pressure is almost like a phantom touch that you would know even through the darkest nights. You know exactly what Ayato is touching in his mind and the innocent look he sends your way does little to calm you down.

You have to bite the inside of your cheek hard to hide the insult resting on your tongue. Ayato’s fingers continue their trip up your legs and between your thighs. When he finally gets to the soft flesh, he gently squeezes with his strong fingers. You know he wants to sigh in relief and react dramatically for the sake of amusing you. For once, you hand it to your husband for being able to remain so calm.

He remains stoic the entire time he drags his finger between your folds, even when his middle digit flicks your clit back and forth just to see you squirm. You wish you could punch him. There is no way you can hide how you’re squirming and no amount of tightly pulling your thighs together can get him to stop. Every time you do something he doesn’t like, Ayato teasingly dips his finger into your entrance. He gives you a breath of relief before ripping it away to taunt you again. It’s a miracle you haven’t started to pant.

You can’t focus on the meeting anymore or what the commissioner is saying. You try to ground yourself with your drink, to wet your throat but even that is impossible as Ayato brings another finger to rub your clit. The pads of two of his fingers cover much more than just one and your hips shift to grind back against them.

“Commissioner, I’m terribly sorry to cut this meeting short but I just remembered I have something I have to finish,” Ayato announces and glances your way, letting your eyes meet as a smirk takes up his face.

Your husband is on you the second the door closes and signals the other man’s departure.

Thoma

The Komori Tea House is surprisingly empty, today is a slow afternoon. You find that along with Thoma, you’re the only two people inside the house.

Even Taromaru is out and about, most likely doing something for the Kamisatos.

It’s no surprise that you start to get handsy with your boyfriend after discovering this revelation.

“We can’t!” Thoma whispers, quietly exclaiming his pleas while trying to push your hands away. “Not here, what if someone comes back?” There is some admiration in his restraint, it almost makes you a little envious.

“Then we’ll stop when we hear them,” You breathe against his throat, lips ghosting over his collarbone. Thoma starts to squirm under your touch and nearly backs up against the wall. There’s an empty space in his lap with your name on it. “we can stop, can’t we, Thoma?” The housekeeper swallows dryly, he can’t guarantee that he could get his hands off of you once he finally starts to touch you. Not even Raiden herself could pull the two of you away from one another. “I know I could,”

The hand you had been teasing him with leaves his thigh to rest on his abdomen as you lean over in his lap. You bring yourself to your knees to level your faces and Thoma fears his heart might be beating out of his chest. He turns into nothing but a puddle of mush when you tease him too much.

However, if you tease him just enough then his restraint will snap like a flimsy string. That’s exactly what you’re looking for today.

“Come on, Thoma,” Your murmur of his name becomes muffled with a kiss as you push your lips against his own, placing the softest amount of pressure. Beside you, Thoma’s hands turn into fists against the tatami floors and his shoulders begin to lightly shake.

Through the kiss, he becomes much more responsive. Thoma starts to kiss you back with fervor, it’s an intensity that pushes you back against the floor with him crawling over top of you. One of his hands holds your wrist above your head while the other loosely grips your jaw. You don’t have any complaints, and if you did then Thoma would be sure to swallow them all. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the cool feeling of his necklace against your throat. He licks you clean, inserting his tongue into your mouth for a messy kiss that makes you roll your hips up to meet his own. You gasp and whine once you feel his touch through his tight slacks.

“We’re doing this here?” He pulls away to clarify, panting against your lips as he lowers his body to completely cover your own. “You really want to take me here?” Thoma’s hands become just as seductive as your own once were, and trail up your sides to cup your breasts. His eyes darken at the sight held within his palms and the sweet smile you’re used to seeing on his face is covered with a serious stare.

Oh, he’s going to fuck you so good.

In the empty Komori tea house, Thoma will have you screaming his name so loudly that anyone outside can hear. He’ll fuck you against the floor, the table, even the thin walls of the house. He knows you’ll be good for him the entire time since you were the one who started this. You have to take responsibility for what you’ve caused him to do.

Tighnari

“Are we seriously doing this out here?” Anxiety floods throughout your body as you glance over your shoulder to look at Tighnari. The same Tighnari who is currently undressing you. His delicate hands roughly pull and tug at your jacket until the offending piece of clothing falls to the forest floor. “Tighnari,”

Despite your protests, the man continues his advanced work.

“I don’t see anyone around, what’s the harm?” His snappy tone only ushers you to move faster with removing your shorts.

“I’m leaving my shirt on,” You bite back and Tighnari rolls his eyes at the dramatics, purposely yanking on your shirt for emphasis. “really?” The grass underneath you is soft as your research partner pushes you on your back. Gently, he lowers you to the ground before situating himself between your thighs.

“Let’s just get this settled and then move on, okay?” His ears flatten on his head as blood pumps through his veins, he needs you so badly. It’s a miracle that his body hasn’t started to shake with the primal urge to fuck you (not that he can control it). “I’m eating you out first,”

“Are you kidding me?” You barely have the time to refuse, to spit all the curses that you have saved for him before Tighnari lowers himself between your thighs. “We don’t have time for this!” Despite your screeches and protests, he ignores you. Tighnari wholeheartedly ignores you as his mouth waters at the sight of your bare cunt. He can barely help himself.

His tail whips around before wrapping your your ankle, ultimately pulling your leg over his shoulder to keep you still in place.

As much as he hates to admit it, there are some instances where Tighnari needs your help. There are instances where his hand just does not do what it is supposed to do and he craves the touch of his sweet partner. Being Tighnari’s personal cum bucket was not in your job description as fellow forest watcher but, you very quickly learned to love it. You have yet to understand his obsession with pleasuring you when it’s his own needs he should be satisfying but, you don’t really want to know his reasonings. If it has anything to do with the enamored way he looks at you while fucking your brains out, you want no part in it.

“Archons,” You fist your hands in the grass at the feeling of his adamant tongue diving between your folds, his licks increase in intensity no matter how loud you get. In some way, you’re sure that Tighnari eats you out for himself. He enjoys himself too much while pleasuring you, his eyes shut and he looks to be in an utter state of bliss as he dips his tongue into your cunt. His moans rival your own, gentle and quiet in their own way but still loud enough that the sounds ring in your ears.

On top of his head, his ears flick in content as you pull on his straight hair. It makes him act messier with you, sucking on your folds just for show before flicking your clit back and forth with his tongue.

Tighnari wants you to cum, he needs you to cum just as badly as he needs to cum himself.

His gloved hands keep your thighs spread apart so he can continue to work his touch against your clit, sucking and lathering the swollen bud with his spit before kissing it in a way that makes the pit of your stomach drop.

The entire time, you ignore the word ‘mate’ that constantly drops from his lips.

#arataki itto x reader #Kamisato Ayato x reader #Thoma x reader #tighnari x reader #genshin x reader #itto x reader #Ayato x reader #thoma x you #tighnari x y/n #itto smut #Ayato smut #Thoma smut #tighnari smut #genshin smut #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #its fun how I said I wouldn't write smut anymore and then that turns out to be the only thing I can write sigh #xiaos spicy almond tofu

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toournextadventure · 3 months

Text

our little secret pt.iv

Summary: Your sins catch up with you.

Word Count: 11.9k Warnings: swearing, heavy religion and religious trauma (Southern Christianity), heavy religious homophobia, slurs, misogyny, guns, threats of violence, talk of death Pairing: Lorraine Day x Fem!Reader (our little secret i) (our little secret ii) (our little secret iii) (our little secret iv) A/N: this has super heavy religious themes, if you're not good with that please don't read, do what's best for y'all 🫶

Lorraine was coming home.

Well, they were all coming home, but you were only truly excited to see Lorraine. It had been nearly three months since you had seen her last. There was little to no contact because they were moving around a lot, but you would get her letters. Simple little things to tell you where they were, what they were doing, how much bigger they were getting in the industry.

Each letter felt more precious than the last. She never said anything explicit - though you couldn’t say the same for the rare letter from Max or Bobby-Lynn - but the message never changed. She missed you. Filming wasn’t the same when she knew she couldn’t go to you immediately after. Sometimes, if you were lucky, she would even complain about RJ.

The letters stayed hidden in a lockbox in Beau’s truck. You had wanted to keep them with you so they were easier to get a hold of, but both he and Huck had reminded you of the dangers of such a thing. What if someone found them? It would put both you and Lorraine in danger.

It wasn’t something that should have been a surprise to you, yet it partially was. You had gotten comfortable with the small group you surrounded yourself with. All but one or two knew of your little secret, and every single one of them was in support. Or at the very least, they were accepting. When you were with them, you almost forgot you weren’t supposed to be with Lorraine; you were supposed to be in your good, Christian, church-ordained relationship with Beau.

Yet, it was easy enough to keep your secret when Lorraine was away so often. You were so very proud of her and all she was achieving. Each time you saw her, you made sure to remind her of such. A kiss for each time you had felt proud of her while she was away, just to ensure she felt proud of herself. It didn’t matter what she did, all that mattered was she was working hard and moving through life successfully.

Beau and Huck had just gotten back from their own trip as well. They were scheduled to get back a few days after Lorraine, but out of some strange sense of responsibility, they had come back early. You wouldn’t complain. After all, you may not have been romantically interested in either of them, but you still loved them. They were family. They were your family. When they were around, life felt less chaotic. You could breathe and relax and feel however you wanted to feel because you knew, no matter what, that they loved you.

Things felt… good. As good as they had in a long while. You often spent your evenings with Roy. After talking with Jackson a few times, you had some idea on how to talk with your brother. He had been hesitant at first, seemingly not even able to comprehend his own thoughts. But slowly, day by day, you managed to get him to talk.

In the dead of night when you should have been asleep in your room, you sat across from Roy in the barn and listened to his rambling stories. I was an electrician, he had said, a pole jockey. You didn’t ask what that meant. Average life of a pole jockey is 7 seconds. For the first time since coming home, he showed you his overabundance of scars.

It was no wonder he felt trapped within his own mind.

“How’s it goin’, Roy?” Beau asked as he walked into the barn with Huck right on his heels. “Brought you some barbecue.”

Roy grumbled an acknowledgement before gingerly taking the Tupperware box from Beau’s outstretched hand. He always seemed to go fairly nonverbal when someone else was around. A small part of you felt proud that he trusted you enough to talk with you. It didn’t outweigh the feeling of knowing he would probably never get better.

“You goin’ to church with us on Sunday?” Huck asked gently.

He took a different approach to interacting with Roy than Beau did. While Beau very much kept his “big boy britches” on (as he had so much fun saying), Huck was more outwardly compassionate. It wasn’t that they didn’t care, or they thought Roy incapable, they were just raised differently. At least it was better than how you were both raised.

At least they showed they cared.

“Our sweet girl is preachin’,” Beau continued.

Roy looked at you and raised an eyebrow comically high. If you hadn’t just been talking about people dying and his nightmares, you would have teased him for it. Maybe you should have, just to invoke a sense of normalcy in it all. You opted to keep your mouth shut.

“It’s just kids’ church,” you said with a shrug. “Nothin’ important.”

“You are shapin’ the young minds of America’s future voters,” Beau said with a finger pointed in your direction. “That’s mighty important.”

You laughed and kicked out at him, managing to barely catch his heel. “You hear that from the television set?”

“Yes ma’am, I did,” he said with that cheesy smile that made all the women in town swoon. “You’re doin’ the Lord’s work.”

“You still don’t have to go,” you said to Roy.

He looked at you with a small smile before looking back down at the food in his hands. Yeah, you knew that would be the answer. So did Beau, but he still tried, bless his heart. You looked at him as he continued talking with Huck and felt something tighten in your chest.

You wished you loved him the way you were supposed to. If you could just feel those butterflies whenever he held your hand, or kissed your cheek, or wrapped his arms around you, everything would be better. You could still love Lorraine, and you could still love Huck, but the guilt wouldn’t be sticking to your very bones, weighing you down until you could feel the very fires of hell licking at your skin.

Maybe you could learn. Perhaps you could learn to feel for him the way you were supposed to. Lorraine felt for RJ - or could at least pretend convincingly - and no one was the wiser. If you could pretend, or learn, then maybe things wouldn’t be so bad. You could get away with loving Lorraine if you could convince everyone that you felt for Beau the way you were supposed to.

While he talked with Huck and Roy, you sat back and really looked at him. He was handsome, you didn’t have to fancy him romantically to see it. Just near every girl in town thought you were lucky as could be; you couldn’t entirely disagree. His laugh, his smile, his kindness, he was everything a girl could want.

And you felt nothing.

It weighed heavy on your soul as the days kept passing you by. Each day brought you closer to seeing Lorraine again, which meant you distanced yourself from Beau. You desperately hoped he understood; you loved him dearly, and there was nothing you wouldn’t do for him. But you just couldn’t love him the way you knew you should.

You sighed and put your thoughts aside when a truck pulled up to the barn. It wasn’t one you had seen before, at least not one you could remember. But it pulled up beside Beau’s truck as if they had done it a million times before. Not even Jimmy pulled up so well, and he lived there.

“You invite somebody?” You asked whoever was listening.

“You say that like we got friends,” Huck said with a chuckle and a swig from his beer bottle. He didn’t even look.

“Then somebody invited themself,” you said.

The lights of the truck were still on, seeming brighter as the sun continued to dip beneath the horizon. It would have silhouetted the still-budding cotton field if not for the blinding lights. Not many people made it a habit of coming out to the barn; they went to the house with daddy and not much else. There really wasn’t much sense in coming out this way.

Roy’s knee pressed against your thigh before you heard something scrape across the concrete floor. Hesitantly, you stopped looking at the truck and turned to look at him. His eyes were glued to the truck, and his hand was wrapped carefully around the handle of a pistol. A pistol that you hadn’t known he still had access to.

“I got it,” you said softly as you reached out to place your hand on top of his. He stiffened beneath you, but nodded once and let go of the gun.

You would need to figure out what to do about that another day.

The driver’s side door opened without a creak - something unusual in your bunch - and someone stepped out. You stood up and took a few steps toward the truck in an attempt to see who it was. With the truck’s lights still on, you couldn’t tell. You couldn’t even properly see their silhouette. When the lights turned off, you were stuck blinking erratically; the beam of light wouldn’t fade quickly enough.

“You lost?” You called out. The words carried across the now-silent driveway. “Town’s the other way.”

“I’m where I wanna be.”

Every atom of your being sparked at the voice. If you had been thinking logically, you would have remembered Roy was sitting on a box behind you. There were witnesses to your actions. But you weren’t thinking logically. You could never think logically if she was around.

There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation before you practically sprinted toward the truck. Your arms knew where to go; they secured themselves around Lorraine’s shoulders as if that was where they belonged. In return, her arms wrapped around your waist, and her breath hit your neck, and her giggles reached your ears, and you were home.

She was your home.

“Got back a few nights early,” she said. Her arms squeezed tighter around your waist. “Thought I’d come surprise you.”

“It’s a good surprise,” you said softly.

You would have been content to stand there for the rest of eternity. With her head resting between your collar and jaw and her arms holding you like a lifeline, you didn’t have a single complaint. Why would you even want to leave? She was your home. She was what made your heart beat so fast you started to question if it would even hold up to the abuse.

“Look who’s back.” Beau’s voice came from behind you like the mighty voice of God himself; calling you out for the very sin of feeling love.

Lorraine pulled away to give everyone a hug, and you watched her do so. No one cared about your… affections for Lorraine; if Roy noticed, he certainly didn’t say anything. He even reached out to squeeze her hand, which was much more than he did for most.

Did he know? When Lorraine pulled up a box right beside yours and let her thigh rest only a hair’s breadth away from yours, did he see? It hadn’t ever occurred to you that Roy might know more than he let on. He was traumatised, not blind. How much did he see that you weren’t aware of?

Would he hate you? Had daddy gotten to him before you had even been born, teaching him that your very existence was a blight on the earth? Your stomach twisted into knots at the possibility. Jimmy was younger, he was more open minded, but Roy? The very thought of him condemning you to hell even after everything he had seen made your chest squeeze and tighten.

“You get yourself a new truck?” Huck asked as he held out a newly opened beer for Lorraine to take. “Looks mighty clean.”

“It’s daddy’s,” she said as she grabbed the bottle by the neck with her good hand.

“What happened to the truck I was fixin’ up?” You asked.

“He gave up on it,” she said with a shrug. “Said she was done for.”

“She was not done for,” you grumbled.

The toe of Lorraine’s shoe pushed gently against your heel; a teasing gesture she had adopted when other people were around. Just something small to let you know she acknowledged what you were saying. A habit you almost wished didn’t exist. The very existence of it meant you both were well aware of the ramifications of any sort of potentially scandalous words or activities. It was humiliating.

Your thoughts wouldn’t stop when everyone started talking and catching up. Lorraine was being particularly open. Nearly every time she came back from a trip, she stayed distant for a few days. The entire town knew you were all best friends, but you both tried to keep nothing but professional. It was fake. It was painful.

What about this break made her throw away that distance? Your chest warmed at the possibility that something had happened with RJ; perhaps everything wasn’t so awful. It wasn’t likely, but you let yourself relish in the feeling even if just for a moment. God could spare you a single moment of peace.

“We all gettin’ together Friday night?” Beau asked. “The usual?”

“Sounds good to me,” Lorraine said. She turned to look at you with a sparkle in her eye. “Think you can handle it?”

Roy’s knee pressed against your thigh at the same time Lorraine’s thigh did the same. Something about the potential judgment from your brother and the warmth from the woman you were forced to love in secret pulled at your insides. Tugging them in different directions, stretching you thin until you wanted to fade away into oblivion.

A moment of peace.

“I’m your huckleberry,” you said with a shrug.

Lorraine’s smile eased the tension in your chest. For the moment.

—---

The worn-down barn had been rearranged since the last time you had visited. The bar took over the better half of the left wall, and the makeshift stage had been reinforced at the back. Your usual table, which was originally found near the front of the barn, was now located closer to the back end of the bar; you could see directly out to the pitch black fields.

That was where your crew found themselves that Friday night; sitting at the table with more than a few empty drinks scattered around. It wasn’t like the Mexican restaurant down the road. There weren’t waitresses and people working there to clean. It was your responsibility to take your empty glasses back so they could be cleaned and reused. And on that night, it was your turn to be the waitress.

“Hey sugar,” Beau called to you when you were grabbing the empty cups to take back. “Get us another round?”

“You’re gonna have me lookin’ like an alcoholic,” you said with a pointed look.

You ignored Lorraine’s angelic giggle.

You also didn’t say no.

“What can I get for ya, Preacher?” Stevie - Stephen on Sundays - asked. “Your boys are throwin’ ‘em back.”

“So’s Rainey,” you said with a slight shake of your head. It didn’t erase your smile. “How’s about somethin’ watered down.”

“You truly are doin’ the Lord’s work,” he said with a smirk that most girls around town fell for. “A small bit of whiskey and some sweet iced tea.”

You mouthed a silent thank you as he got to work on the drinks and you turned to look back out at the scene. It was no surprise to see Beau and Lorraine already up and dancing. They couldn’t get you to dance to save your life, but you knew how much Lorraine loved it. She could have fun and laugh and smile without a care in the world. Did it help that she only danced when she was drunk? Yes, but that didn’t really matter.

The sight of her smiling has that vice grip closing around your heart again. It was cold and made you feel like you were drowning on dry land. Something about it didn’t sit right with you. Love was supposed to be something warm, something you could crawl back home to. It wasn’t supposed to hurt so bad, was it? Surely there was more to love than the hurt that you couldn’t even tell anyone about.

God was looking down on you. You could feel it. He was looking down at you, waiting to smite you where you stood. If he could hear your thoughts, could feel the way your body reacted to just hearing Lorraine’s voice, he would command Satan himself to drag you down to hell. You would feel the fiery pits of hell before you could ever show anyone how much you loved her.

But a part of you didn’t care. You would face whatever was thrown at you just to see her smile again. To feel her fingers brush against your hand when you passed her a bible at church because she had forgotten one again. You would have stood in front of God himself and rejected the heavenly gates if it meant you could hear her voice each morning you awoke beside her.

Blasphemy.

You knew it was.

You’re condemning your God for something that will never come to fruition.

You knew that too.

“Here ya go,” Stevie said, pulling you out of your downward spiral into a controlled madness. “Should help ‘em sober up a bit.”

“Thanks, Stevie,” you said with another polite smile as you grabbed the glasses he held out to you.

Lorraine and Beau were still dancing when you placed the drinks on the table and drug yourself into your seat. It was one of those tall seats that you almost had to climb into if you were a little shorter. Beau always teased you for it, but you at least got to tease Lorraine in return. She was shorter than you, after all.

“Please tell me these don’t have alcohol in ‘em,” Huck said even as he pulled the glass closer to him. “I can’t keep up with those two.”

“Little bit of whiskey,” you said, “mostly iced tea.”

He nodded once. “I can work with that.”

“Think they’ll dance all night?” You asked, turning your head to look at your boyfriend and the love of your life. That ball in your throat reappeared. You pretended not to notice it.

“They’re already stumblin’,” he said with a shake of his head. “I reckon they’ll come back in a bit.”

You nodded absentmindedly and continued to watch the pair. This very scene was a repeat of when she had gotten back a few months ago. The scenes played out in your head perfectly as you imagined the sound of Lorraine’s laughter to go with her dancing. It didn’t cover the sounds of her moans or the feel of her on top of you, but you were allowed an indecent thought every now and then.

If you were going to hell, you may as well enjoy the moment.

God, your mind was a mess. Maybe you needed to get away from town for a few days.

Lorraine’s voice reached you before she did. If you had been blinded, you would have been able to pick her voice out within a moment. Hers was the voice that guided you through your days, instilling a confidence and comfort that nothing else truly could. It rivaled God himself, and you understood how the prophets could be so comforted when listening to Him.

“You didn’t get yourself a drink,” Lorraine commented when she sat down beside you with the same grace as a newborn lamb.

“I’ll just share yours,” you said.

Her toothy smile sent a jolt to your very core.

“You’re dancin’ with me next, darlin’,” Beau said. He attempted to point at you, but just ended up making a mess and spilling half his drink.

“Ask me again when you’re sober, cowboy,” you teased.

“You goin’ to church with us on Sunday, Rainey?” Huck asked.

“Don’t talk about church,” Beau whined. “We’re tryin’ to have some fun.”

“Yeah, I’ll go,” she answered anyway. “So will the rest of the crew.”

That was new information.

“They’re here?” You asked.

“They said they missed y’all,” she said with a smile that was far more sober, almost even bashful.

“You sure they won’t burst into flames when they step foot inside?” Beau asked. You did your best not to laugh when Huck slapped his arm. Lorraine laughed aloud anyway.

You all talked about everything. You talked about nothing. You talked about plans that meant nothing and everything all at the same time. A vacation, perhaps out west, to see the ocean. Perhaps another one to Tennessee, where Huck knew a family that made moonshine in their shed. Or up to those big ole cities like New York, where rumour had it you could get yourself some crab that you didn’t catch out on the Gulf.

Lorraine’s thigh was flush against yours. It was just warm enough outside to warrant shorts, and even though you were wearing your sundress, you could feel her bare skin against yours. The very thought was indecent to its core. There were so many people around that had no idea of the indiscrete touch, yet it was enough to shake you to your very soul.

“I wanna watch you dance,” Lorraine whispered in your ear. It’s possible it wasn’t a whisper at all, but with the band and talking all around, no one else would have heard.

“I didn’t think you liked watchin’,” you said with a straight face that completely contradicted your teasing thoughts.

“I like watching’ if it’s you,” she said with a mirrored expression.

Damn her and those beautiful brown eyes of hers.

“Come on, lover boy,” you called out to Beau even as Lorraine brushed her knuckles against your thigh underneath the table. “You get one dance.”

“I’ll take it,” he said quickly.

He downed what little was left in his glass before hopping down from the stool. Your feet had barely touched the dirt floor when Beau grabbed your hand and pulled you with him. He was far past tipsy, though you wouldn’t quite say he was drunk. He was, however, well on his way.

“Just a nice lil two-step,” he warned you.

“Don’t drop me,” you warned.

He smiled the dopey, crooked smile that Huck loved so much. “Darlin’, I wouldn’t dare.”

As much as you hated dancing, it wasn’t half bad with Beau. He was one of the best in town, there was no denying the fact. There was something about his two-step that made it different, a little more special. He could have led the blind with how confident he was. Each step, each twist, each dip, you just simply had to follow. Not once would he ever leave you to falter.

You gave him more than one dance; after all, how could you stop when you had seen the look on Lorraine’s face as she watched? What would it feel like to dance with her, you wondered. Would she prefer to lead, or follow? How would her hand feel resting on your hip for something as simple as a dance? Would it send the same jolt of passion through you as everything else she did?

Once the music started to die down, you could feel the blisters starting to form on your heels. You couldn’t recall the last time you had danced in boots, and your feet were reminding you of such a thing. With a small grimace, you realised you would have to take care of them once you got home. The last thing you wanted were untreated blisters.

“I’m done,” you told Beau. You weren’t looking at his face; you were too focused on your feet. “I think I’m gonna regret this come mornin’.”

His grip on your waist tightened. “How’s about one more?”

“I ain’t losin’ my feet for a dance,” you said with a light laugh. You went to turn towards the table, but he pulled you back.

“Just one more,” he insisted. “Then I’ll let you escape.”

You tried to pull away again. “I reckon I really just need to sit dow-”

-Beau’s lips were pressed against yours before you had time to acknowledge the fact. He was pulling you tight, and your hands pushed lightly against his chest. His lips were chapped; they were nowhere near as soft as Lorraine’s. That was the only thing you could think about as the kiss seemed to drag on.

Until it clicked that you were kissing Beau.

No, he was kissing you.

You finally managed to push him just far enough away for you to look at him. He was looking down at you with startlingly sober eyes. That wasn’t like him at all. In all your years of knowing him, he had never sobered up so quickly in his life. He wasn’t a lightweight, but once he was gone? He was gone.

“What the hell was that for?” You asked softly enough for no one around you to hear.

He didn’t answer.

“Beau,” you insisted.

His eyes flickered above your head before meeting yours once again. What was he looking at? You shouldn’t look. The internal voice that so often resembled your guilt sounded more desperate. Desperate like the look on Beau’s face. It was right, you shouldn’t look.

You turned around anyway.

You didn’t immediately see anything out of sorts. Stevie was starting to pack up at the bar, indicative of either shift change or the barn being out of alcohol for the night. At the table, Huck was facing the bar and throwing back a shot that you didn’t recall him getting. Hadn’t he said he was done drinking? He wasn’t really one to go back once he was done.

Until you locked eyes with Lorraine. Who was standing right outside the barn in front of a kneeling RJ. Who’s left hand was clasped between both of his. Who looked painfully sober while he slid a ring onto her finger. Who looked at you with the same look you got from Jimmy and Huck and Roy when she was with RJ.

You weren’t supposed to look.

Each beat of your heart hurt.

“I think I’m done for tonight,” you said around the lump in your throat.

Beau’s arms held you tighter to his chest. “I’ll take you home.” His heartbeats hurt too.

“No thank you,” you said before finally turning back around to face him. You tried not to think too much about the look on his face. “Stay here with Huck and celebrate.”

“Baby-”

“-It’s alright,” you interrupted with a smile that convinced no one. “Stevie’s goin’ my way anyway.”

Every inch of your body was both numb and engulfed in pain all at once. You stood on your toes - ignoring the sting of raw blisters on your heel - and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek. He had a bit of stubble; it was scratchy against your lips and made a nice momentary distraction. It wasn’t enough.

He only tried to hold you close for just a moment more. It was nothing more than a half-hearted attempt, and the instant you pulled away, he let you. With each step, you focused on your heels. On walking carefully so the rough leather of your boots wouldn’t tear them to shreds. A practiced walk that any true Southerner had mastered by the time they were old enough to dress themselves.

The hair on the back of your neck stood up when you approached the table. It was itchy and you wanted to scratch it until you ceased to exist. But you didn’t, you kept your hands clasped politely in front of you until you grabbed your hat off the table.

“I’m headin’ on home,” you said to whoever was sitting at the table.

You knew who was at the table.

“You okay-”

“-Just feelin’ a bit sick ‘s all,” you interrupted Huck with a dismissive wave and a fake smile. No one was convinced. “Guess I can’t hold my liquor.”

“Need us to drive you home?” RJ asked. His voice alone set your nerves alight and a new pain radiating across your skin.

“I’ve got a ride,” you said. The next word forced its way out of your mouth. “Congratulations.”

She was looking at you, and you knew it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do the same. After all, why would you want to see the confirmation on her face? Did she not know what that would do to you? Your heart was barely getting by as it was, you didn’t need to add her pity to the mix.

You patted Huck on the shoulder before turning away, placing your hat back on your head in the process. It still smelled like Lorraine from when she had worn it earlier in the night. The act had made your fingers tingle with hidden excitement. No one had guessed the hidden meaning behind it; it was lovely.

Now it didn’t matter.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Stevie asked. Oh. You were at the bar. “You’re lookin’ a little green.”

“Just feelin’ a bit tired,” you said. “You headin’ my way?”

He tipped his hat. “Sure am.” A shit-eating grin took over his face. “Want a shot and smoke for the road?”

You should’ve said no. Stevie was someone you trusted greatly, and it was clear he wasn’t planning on taking the shot with you. Well, it wasn’t clear, but he only set one shot glass on the bar, so you assumed as much. But it wasn’t about his potential drinking and driving, it was the way it would look. It wasn’t proper for you to be leaving the bar with a man who wasn’t your boyfriend.

Your hands shook. Then again, it wasn’t quite proper for RJ to show up on your night out and propose to the woman you loved, either.

“I’d love one,” you told Stevie with a smile.

“Atta girl,” he said as he poured the whiskey into the glass. Bottom shelf; more than suitable for the job. “The smokes are in the truck.”

The hair on your arms stood up again. You tried not to think about it as you threw the shot back. The sting of alcohol hit your stomach like a semi hitting a brick wall. Nothing was appealing about it, and yet you weren’t disappointed. The sting was better than the pressure getting heavier and heavier on your chest.

“Alright, you ready?” Stevie asked when you slid the glass back toward him.

“Yessir,” you said with a smile that you hoped was more convincing than the last few.

It seemed it was.

The whole group was staring at you, you could feel it. Looking at you in pity, like a stray dog no one wanted. Everyone would feed it, would love it, would treat it well until the moment it came time to go inside. Then it would be left on the streets to fend for itself. With any luck, it would survive until the next encounter, but no one would take the risk of bringing it inside.

“Here you go,” Stevie mumbled as he held the cigarette pack out to you. It was so worn you couldn’t even tell the brand. You didn’t care.

He held the lighter up, and you leaned forward to get the spark. When you inhaled, the scalding ash burned every inch of your throat. It coated your lungs and took the pressure off your chest, if only to relocate it. The truck started driving off before you could exhale that first cloud of smoke. That was okay. You quickly inhaled again.

The burn showed you what hell felt like.

—---

The sun had risen long ago, and you were still in bed. The dusty yellow curtains were drawn, allowing only the thinnest sliver of light to penetrate your room. Whenever you dared to face the world for a few seconds, you could see the dust motes floating in the air, almost like spring snowflakes.

Momma had talked to Mrs. Day on the phone that morning. You hadn’t been present, but you could hear her through the walls. Her excitement at the news made you sick. You simply held your head out of your window and let yourself be sick before crawling back into bed. The blankets did nothing to block out the world, but you could at least pretend to hide away for a few hours.

You tried not to let yourself think about Lorraine; no easy feat considering she held your heart and soul in the palm of her hand. No, if you thought about it for too long, you felt you might turn into Roy. Stuck in your own head, unable to go about the intricacies of life without the trauma constantly looming over your head. You were more than content to lay in your bed and just rot away.

Hell could go ahead and take you. Surely it was no worse than what you were already experiencing.

“Come on, lazy bones,” momma said as she finally made the bold move to open your bedroom door. “Gramma’s here to help with the garden.”

She didn’t wait for you, but you knew the expectation. When momma asked you to do something, you usually had about 15 minutes before she started to pitch a fit. If you wanted to avoid a guilt trip, you would at least be up and in the process of heading outside by the time she started to get irritable.

You made sure to take up every minute you had. The slightly windy weather was perfect for a pair of jeans, so you made sure to take your time picking them out. The worn pair of garden boots sat in the corner; your heels stung just looking at them. It wouldn’t hurt to work barefoot for the day. After all, God brought you into the world without boots, you could experience another day without boots.

Momma and Gramma were already kneeling in the garden by the time you finally managed to make your appearance. Your hat hung low on your brow to block out the high afternoon sun. It was already hot on your arms, but you could work with it. A bit of sun wouldn’t kill you.

No one said a word as you grabbed the trowel and kneeled next to a still forming row of… well, you weren't sure what it would be this year. Last year it had been carrots, but they hadn’t lasted long. Perhaps this year you would make a bold suggestion of black eyed peas again. You knew you could get it right if you had another chance.

“What’s got you so down today, honey?” Gramma asked after what felt like far too long in the sun.

It had only been about five minutes.

“Does it have to do with Rainey gettin’ engaged?” Momma asked. The question made you sick to your stomach again.

“Yeah, kinda,” you said with a shrug even as you refused to look up at either of them.

“Oh honey,” Gramma said softly, “don’t be upset.” You couldn’t help it. “Beau will propose before you know it.”

Oh. Right.

You didn’t want Beau to propose. You couldn’t imagine anything worse than putting Huck through what you were feeling at that moment. Knowing that his heart would break every time he looked at you, no matter how happy he would be for you. He would have to sit on the sidelines, pretending to be joyous about watching his lover marry someone else.

Would he question God the way you did? Because you couldn’t comprehend why you were getting punished for the very fate of falling for someone you shouldn’t have. It wasn’t like you had planned on falling in love with Lorraine; did He really think you would do this on purpose? After seeing how painful life could be, why would you willingly choose such a life? To not feel a single thing for the man you were “supposed” to be with.

Surely it couldn’t have only been you. Surely you weren’t the only one who didn’t feel a certain way for Beau. Momma felt things for daddy, didn’t she? She had to, there was no other explanation. People didn’t just marry someone they didn’t love, did they?

Did they?

“What does love feel like?” You asked aloud to neither one of them in particular.

“What do you mean?” Momma asked.

You set the trowel down and leaned back on your heels. It stung. “When you look at Daddy, do you ever get, I don’t know, butterflies or somethin’?”

You finally looked up and saw both Momma and Gramma look away in thought. You needed them to confirm it. Needed them to tell you that yes, they felt something for Daddy and Pappy. They felt butterflies, and their palms got sweaty, and they wanted to do everything for them because they loved them. They needed to say it.

“Don’t think I ever have,” Momma finally said.

“Never?” You asked indignantly.

“Not that I recall,” she confirmed.

“How about you, Gramma?” You asked.

She needed to answer differently.

“Not for your Pappy,” she said with a shake of her head. “But I’ve felt somethin’ for someone else before.”

“Mom,” Momma scolded.

“Oh please,” Gramma said with a dismissive wave of her hand, “we’re all grown now.” She turned to look at you. “A man I grew up with.” You kept your eyes locked with hers. “Every time we were together, I’d get this giddy feelin’ in my chest.”

“Did you love him?” You asked.

“I believe I did,” she said with a nod. “He was certainly the one I wanted to spend my forever with.”

The pressure in your chest returned. “Why didn’t you?”

“He wasn’t the one I needed to love,” she said with a shrug before going back to digging up a few weeds.

“How d’you know?” You asked. The sweat made it harder to hold the trowel in your hand.

“God told me,” Gramma said as if it was the most logical answer in the world. “I was s’posed to love him, but I needed to love your Pappy.”

The pressure in your chest turned sharp.

“And you?” You asked Momma. “God told you to love Daddy?”

She nodded instantly. “He certainly did, and I thank Him every day for it.”

“But you don’t feel nothin’ special for him?” You asked. You wanted her to deny it.

“I feel what I’m s’posed to feel,” she confirmed.

You looked back down at the dirt. The tiny little splinters of the trowel handle dug into your fingers as you gripped it tighter. If you looked close enough, you could see a worm or two digging through the rich soil. Would it be easier to be that worm? To not have to worry about who to love, or if God would punish you for desiring someone else?

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Momma said, and you felt her hand rest on your shoulder. “Beau seems to be both the one you’re s’posed to love, and the one you need to love.” You felt sick. “You’re mighty lucky for it to turn out that way.”

“Yeah,” you said with a small smile before digging into the soil again.

Even though Momma and Gramma got back to work, you dug mindlessly with your bare hands, the trowel all but forgotten. Perhaps you had given your Momma too much credit. After all of this, she had ended up with someone that she didn’t love. Gramma had missed out on someone she loved because it wasn’t proper. Three generations of women who were stuck.

Was it a punishment? Surely God wouldn’t punish three generations of women for having feelings for someone. Someone that wasn’t ordained as the “right one” for them. No one could be quite that cruel, could they? What happened to love being something pure, a true gift that was to be held dearly?

Maybe your Momma had fallen victim to the same sin as you. Destined to love someone you weren’t meant to be with. The thought made you sick to your stomach. You were your mother’s daughter. And you were all suffering for the sin of love.

—--

Somehow, some way, you had managed to avoid any sort of small talk with people before church had started. You had stood at the doors to tell everyone good morning, giving Beau and Huck quick hugs before ushering them in. Daddy was already in the chapel talking with everyone, and you were more than happy to practically push the Days in without sparing them a second glance.

You ignored the coiling in your stomach when Lorraine gave you that pity-filled smile.

“You clean up nice.”

For the first time in two days, you allowed yourself to smile for a moment. Maxine was the first to give you a hug, then Bobby-Lynne, followed up by Jackson and Wayne. Truth be told, you had missed them too. There was something comforting about knowing that they accepted you, all of you, and wouldn’t shame you for a single thing.

Except for being a preacher. They still teased you for that one.

“And Beau was convinced you’d catch fire when you stepped in,” you said with a small smile.

“Not yet,” Bobby-Lynne said in her most confident tone. It was a good look for her.

“Everyone’s already inside,” you said with a gesture of your head, “go sit where you’d like.”

“We’ll behave,” Wayne said as he tipped his hat at you.

“Please do,” you called out to their backs.

Only a few more people were left before church started and you could finally close the doors. The kid’s church was in the small connected building on the side of the church. It wasn’t anything fancy, but the whole town had pitched in one year to build it. Something about having their own building made the kids more excited to go to church than anything else. And quite frankly, no one cared what the children enjoyed about it as long as they were excited to go.

“Alright y’all, let’s get started,” you said as you closed the doors behind you.

Daddy had made it clear you would never be the head preacher at church; that right was reserved for when Jimmy got back from seminary. You had tried not to act hurt when he had broken the news to you. The original plan had been for you to go to seminary because Jimmy wanted to go to an actual college. But it seemed none of you would get what you want, and you were all having to live with the cards you were being dealt.

Leading kids’ church was something you enjoyed, so you wouldn’t complain too much. After all, kids were far more open to learning than adults were. They wanted to hear whatever they wanted to hear and nothing else. You couldn’t count the number of times you had preached to the adults and they had come up to you afterwards to debate the meaning of a scripture. The joke was on them, though; you had taken enough seminary to know some of the original translations, not just the watered down version they preferred.

It was a wonderful lesson for the day; love thy neighbour. Something most people seemed to have trouble with at one point or another. Hell, even you had issues with it. There was more than once you had wished trouble up on a neighbour. Particularly when they attempted to belittle you when you were trying to live your day-to-day life. You wouldn’t take it back, but you accepted it had been a fault of yours.

“Alright y’all,” you said when the clock on the wall hit 12:30pm. “Let’s pray for our neighbours before we go.”

“Except those faggots, right?”

“Excuse me?” You said as quickly as the words had reached your ears.

Mr. Dylan’s son - Scott - tilted his head in confusion. You had known it was him; he was usually the one who spoke out the most. And his views were… well, they were perfect copies of his daddy’s views, and that wasn’t something you accepted. Especially not when they came out sounding the way it just had.

“I ain’t prayin’ for those faggots up north,” he repeated.

“Don’t say that word,” you said. “Why would you even say that?”

He sighed and looked at you like you were stupid. “Daddy says those fa-” he paused at the look you gave him, “-homosexuals are dyin’ cause they’re sinners.”

That coil in your stomach from earlier had turned into hot lead. A part of your mind told you to keep your mouth shut; you were in the middle of a church in the middle of a very Baptist town. It was dangerous to say anything that could be considered problematic or un-Christian.

But those people were dying and no one cared. They were suffering for loving someone society told them they shouldn’t. No one was trying to help them, they were just being condemned for something they couldn’t help. All the guilt of the world was being thrown onto them for nothing more than the sake of putting the attention on someone else.

Like you, they were being punished for the sin of loving the wrong person.

You could feel a heat growing in your chest. “They’re God’s children too, and they deserve prayers and love just the same as you and me.”

“That ain’t what my daddy says,” Scott defended.

You couldn’t recall another time you had been itching to beat a child.

“Your daddy is divorced,” you said, “and that’s just as much a sin as anything else. We still pray for him, don’t we?”

Scott thought for a moment. “Yes ma’am.”

“Then we pray for everyone, understand?” You said.

“Yes ma’am,” he replied.

“Good,” you exhaled. The heat in your chest wouldn’t go away. “Now bow your heads and let’s pray.”

The prayer was half-assed at best. You couldn’t stop thinking about what Scott had said. The absolute nerve of Mr. Dylan to tell his son such a thing. You could only be so upset with Scott. He was a kid, and kid’s would mimic whatever their parents said. It was natural, and you wouldn’t fault him for it.

But you could certainly fault Mr. Dylan.

The kids all ran out of the church to go meet up with their parents in the parking lot. The sun was starting to shine down on everyone, and you could feel the asphalt burning through the soles of your shoes. They were a horrible pair, but they were the only ones you had that didn’t rub the blisters on the back of your heels. A small price to pay for the sake of not having nasty scars on your feet.

Across the parking lot, you could see the whole crew leaning against their cars. They were all talking and laughing, most likely catching up. You desperately wanted to go over and talk with them. You wanted to be part of their family again, to feel the comfort in acceptance.

But RJ’s arm stayed wrapped around Lorraine’s waist, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to go through that just yet.

You turned your body to go back into the church; you hadn’t grabbed any of your stuff, and Daddy usually wanted help cleaning up before heading out to lunch. If you could help him then maybe God would forgive you for the day. Surely he wouldn’t hate you if you were in His house-

-a loud smack hovered below the ringing in your ears before you felt the sharp sting.

Your eyes teared up almost instantly, before you could even bring your hands up to press against the tender flesh of your right cheek. That heat in your chest from earlier had frozen, leaving you motionless even as the threat loomed above you. Even though you couldn’t make out the words, you could vaguely hear the low rumble of a voice over the ongoing ringing.

When you finally managed to blink away a few tears, you looked up. First you saw someone’s back; they were so close you could smell them. Beau. In front of him was Mr. Dylan, standing tall and furious. He looked like one of the avenging angels. Was he coming to kill you? To end your miserable life and escort you down to hell himself?

“We may not be in the church, but this is still holy ground,” Beau said. He sounded angry. He was never angry.

“Then you best take her out back and beat some sense into her,” Mr. Dylan said just as angrily. Perhaps more. “If she defends those faggots again, I’ll beat her myself.”

“You’ll keep your hands to yourself,” Beau said. At least you thought he did. The ringing still hadn’t gone away. “And you’ll take yourself on home. Now.”

You finally locked eyes with Mr. Dylan, and you wished you hadn’t. He was furious. You couldn’t recall a time you had seen such raw hate in someone’s eyes. What could have caused him to have such a visceral reaction to someone’s differing opinions on life? Was that not one of the better parts of life? Being able to disagree and live in harmony?

“I’m watchin’ you,” he said as he pointed a finger in your direction. But just as Beau had commanded, he turned around and left.

“Are you okay?” Beau asked almost immediately.

“I’m fine,” you said slowly, ignoring the slight copper taste in your mouth. “I just wanna go home.”

“I’ll tell your daddy,” he said. “Go get in my truck.”

You didn’t really listen to what he was saying; the ringing had mostly gone away, but things still sounded a little dull. But you knew you could make it to his truck. Your steps were uncertain at first, and you felt like you were drunk. With the way the world tilted ever so slightly beneath you, you were sure you looked drunk too.

You passed the crew without a glance. If they were looking at you, you didn’t notice. The only thing you could focus on was stepping up into Beau’s truck and the warm metallic blood on your lips. Had it come from Mr. Dylan’s ring? Or had you bitten your lip when your head snapped back? You weren’t sure; you didn’t think it mattered.

The window felt cool on your cheek. It was a welcome feeling, easing the stinging sensation ever so slightly. What you wouldn’t give to have a cold steak on it. Maybe a cold washcloth if you could swing it. But as your eyes started to close and the noises stayed at a low thrum, you figured the window was more than good enough.

You were asleep before Beau came back to the truck.

—---

The barn was empty on Tuesday afternoons. Those were the days you used to find yourself hanging in the rafters with Lorraine. Sneaking away before you had found better ways to be together. Your fingers ran over the rough wooden beams that you had sat on time and time again. Even though it ached, you smiled at the memory. You were thankful you didn’t have to pick splinters out of your ass anymore.

“Beau said you were here.”

You could hear the creaky wooden ladder before you saw Lorraine pulling herself up onto the rafter. It had been just long enough for instinct to kick in, and you looked at her left hand. That ever-present pressure in your chest eased a little when you noticed she wasn’t wearing the ring.

You should have been ashamed of being relieved.

You weren’t.

“How’s your cheek?” She asked. Her hand lifted and hovered over your cheek before she thought better of it and let it fall back to her side.

“Fine,” you said with a shrug. You both knew it was a lie. The bruise had turned an ugly dark that circled your eye and highlighted the split of your lip.

“I don’t love him,” she said without hesitation.

“I know,” you said with a nod as you sat down on the barely-standing hay bale.

Lorraine sat down beside you and let her head rest on your shoulder. You desperately wished she wouldn’t. Her touch still sent a fire down your spine. The feel of your heart beating in sync with yours was enough to drive you to near-insanity. You craved her touch far too much for her to be so gentle with you.

“Can we please talk when I get back?” She said softly. “We have to.”

You didn’t want to talk. Honestly, that was probably the very last thing you wanted. No part of you wanted to hear about her having to marry RJ and pretend to be happy about it. Yeah, you knew it was going to happen. Some part of you had always known it would happen eventually. You were hopeful, but you weren’t stupid.

What you really wanted was for her to hold your hand. To pull you in for a kiss without fear of getting lynched. You had just gotten beat outside of a church, but you wanted to be able to feel love without fear of reprise. And you couldn’t even have something as simple as that, because you wouldn’t dare put her in such a position.

Lorraine lifted her head when you still hadn’t said anything. Her eyes held that pity that you hated. They always seemed to hold that pity when she looked at you. You dared to lift your hand to cup her cheek. The scars were healing up nicely, and you could barely tell the difference when your thumb rubbed lightly against her cheek.

You shouldn’t have done it. The crew was in the driveway, waiting for her to come down so they could get going. You didn’t care. You leaned forward and kissed her lightly, ignoring the sharp pain in your cheek. Her lips were warm and soft; they always were. She tasted of home.

As you sat there, kissing the woman you loved with the desperation of a man on his deathbed, you believed you would be happy if those were your last moments. If God had come down in that moment to take you, you would have been content. The last thing you would have experienced was a moment of love and the taste of Lorraine on your lips.

“I love you,” you mumbled against her lips.

You hoped she understood the many other things you were trying to convey with those three words. I love you. You’re my home. I have betrayed my God and my family for you, and I would do it again. The world hates me and wants me dead, but I would give up everything for you. Only you.

“I love you too,” she said just as softly before leaning forward into another kiss. Something softer. Somehow holding more desperation than the last.

It was all over far too soon. It was bound to be over too soon. Lorraine had a life outside the four walls of the barn, and you were being called back to the church. When she pulled away, you chased her lips for a moment more. One more kiss, one more touch, one more instance of the comfort and turmoil and peace that she instilled within your soul.

“I promise I’ll be back,” she said. “Please be here when I get back.”

You nodded. “I’ll always be waiting for you.”

Her answer was one more kiss, filled with everything she didn’t have time to say. It could have lasted for the rest of your life and it still would have been too short. When she pulled away, everything felt cold. But you were brave. You watched Lorraine head back to the ladder and pause. The tears in her eyes matched your own. As much as you hated to see her cry, it left a feeling in your chest that she hated leaving just as much as you did.

“I love you,” she said. Perhaps a bit too loud. You didn’t care.

“I love you,” you repeated.

She bit her lip and continued her way down the ladder. You let the tears fall freely as you listened to her boots on the gravel making their way to the van. It started up quickly and they were gone almost as soon as the van door closed. The barn didn’t feel so familiar when she was gone. No, it felt empty, foreign.

Sinful.

You waited until the moon was high in the sky before coming down from the rafters. It wasn’t wise to be out so late, but you had nowhere else to go. Beau and Huck had left the night before to help with an emergency, and home held no comfort. All you would have done was rot away in your bedroom, and even that didn’t sound desirable.

Instead, you found yourself walking to the church. It would take a solid thirty minutes, but that was alright. After all, what else would you be doing? You were certainly in no mood to sleep. You wanted to stay awake so you could remember the feel of Lorraine’s lips on yours for as long as possible.

She was right, you would need to talk. Even if it was a talk to cut everything off completely, you both needed to be on the same page. Neither one of you had to be happy about it, but the inevitable was coming to fruition. At some point, one of you was bound to get married. And not to each other.

Perhaps you could all still live near each other. It wouldn’t be the same, and you would still have to hide away, but it would be better than nothing. All you wanted was to stay close to Lorraine by any means necessary. If that meant you could only stay close to her as a friend, you would do it. It would drive stakes into your heart day after day, but it was better than losing her forever.

Your feet were aching by the time you reached the church. Like the true Southern child you were, you had gone barefoot for the night. Your body was used to it, but that didn’t mean the long walk on dirt and gravel wouldn’t leave its mark. Not a single part of you cared about the dust as you opened the church doors and walked into the chapel.

The candles up front were the first things you lit. They weren’t numerous, but they were enough to light the small part of the pulpit that you kneeled in front of you. The carpet was rough against your knees; you must suffer to worship God, your Daddy had said at one point. Nothing about your beliefs were easy, and that was the point.

You rested your hands on your thighs as you looked up at the cross hanging behind the pulpit. It was a simple wooden cross, stained white. If you looked at it hard enough, you could see every one of your sins staining the cross. A horrific red against the startling white.

You wanted answers. You wanted to know why you were being punished. Had you not been good? Had you not been dutiful in your passion for Him? You had done everything you had been told. You had preached, you had read His word, you had followed His rules to the letter. Most people struggled to follow the most basic of rules, and they certainly weren’t being punished.

Tears welled up in your eyes not from sadness, but from anger. He had created you. He had known everything about you and had created you anyway. And now you were being punished for that very same existence? No, you had been good, you had behaved. You were a good girl. What would it take to prove that you were good?

The church doors clicked.

You hastily wiped the tears from your eyes and stood up. No one was supposed to be at the church, it was late. Whether it was a person or an animal, no one was supposed to be around. Should you defend yourself? Daddy usually had a gun at the church, but he had started taking it home lately to prevent accidents.

“Needed some extra prayers?” Mr. Dylan asked. His voice gave him away before you even turned around.

He was in his usual work clothes, but his pistol rested loosely in his hand. Part of you hoped he had brought it for protection from the coyotes and wild boars that liked to roam during the nights. You weren’t entirely stupid enough to believe your own hope.

“How’s ‘bout I pray with you,” he said as he walked closer.

You didn’t want him to. You wanted him to go on home, and you would go on home as well. Neither one of you needed to be in the church so late at night, you both needed to be home. Your families were waiting for you, weren’t they? It wasn’t proper for you to be in the church alone with a divorced man.

“Mr. Dylan-”

“-go on,” he insisted as he used the pistol to gesture to where you had been only moments before. “Kneel and pray.”

You did as instructed. “What would you like me to pray about?”

“Ask God for forgiveness,” he said. You couldn’t see him from where you were kneeling. “For the both of us.”

The carpet still stung on your knees.

“Forgiveness for what?” You asked. Your heart was beating so loudly in your ears you weren’t sure if you would even hear him.

“See if He’ll forgive you for that hellish demon you’ve been afflicted by,” he said.

You kept your mouth shut. You couldn’t recall what he meant. Yes, you had defended homosexuals on Sunday, but surely that wasn’t worth threatening you over, was it? He was a bit rash in his decisions, but he wasn’t ignorant. He wouldn’t risk jail just for this.

“And for you?” You asked.

“See if He’ll forgive me for doin’ His work.”

You heard a familiar sound from the pistol. Your hands shook. Your mind was screaming at you to turn around, to face him. He wasn’t the bravest man, there was no way he would kill you if you were looking him in the eye. And yet, your heart told you to close your eyes and pray.

“Somethin’ ‘bout you never sat right with me,” he continued. “Never figured you for one ‘a them queers.”

You had heard of this happening. Really, you shouldn’t have been surprised. But you were. You were scared. There was no beating around the bush, you were flat-out scared. He was holding a gun to your head. Wasn’t that something Daddy had always talked about in church? If someone held a gun to your head and said he’d shoot you if you were Christian, would you admit it? You had thought it was just some silly question he used to get people to think about his lesson.

You had never imagined he would be right.

“I shoulda done somethin’ ‘bout you years ago.” He just couldn’t quit talking. He’s nervous. “I ain’t gonna let you ruin these kids.”

He cocked the gun again; he must have uncocked it at some point. He just needed to get it over with already, what was he even waiting for?

The shaking in your hands stilled. Perhaps it would be for the best. The suffering would end. What would it be like not to hurt? Surely Lorraine would be alright, she had RJ and the crew. Beau and Huck would keep her safe. They always did. You wouldn’t have to feel that pressure in your chest and you could still watch over her anyway, couldn’t you? Probably better than you were now.

Something cold pressed against the back of your head.

“Say one last prayer.”

You risked tilting your head up to look at the cross one more time. Maybe it was time you died for your sins. After all, you hadn’t lived with the guilt for years without thinking this would happen eventually. How long had you truly thought you could get away with such a secret? No, this was bound to happen.

Lorraine had been smart enough to get out of town. She had gotten herself a beau that would be suitable for the purpose and had left. No one had any time to question her, and as much as you hated it, she had been right. Maybe she could be safe after all of this. Maybe she wouldn’t have to be so afraid.

She would forgive you. Lorraine had never been one to hold a grudge against you. Against others, sure, but not you. You were glad you had told her you loved her earlier. It eased the guilt. She knew you loved her; she knew you would have died for her. You were just upholding your end of the bargain.

You squeezed your eyes shut and let the guilt start to fade away. You had spent so long afraid of what God would do to you for your sins. Seemed He didn’t really care all that much; it was man who cared. No one was going to come save you. You let your mind wander to Lorraine as the barrel pressed harder against the back of your head.

I don’t want God’s forgiveness. I want Lorraine’s.

The metallic sound made you flinch, but you didn’t hear the shot. Your body froze completely. Had you missed it? Were you already dead? It didn’t even hurt, maybe it was quick. That was the best anyone could hope for, right? For it to be quick and painless.

You cracked your eyes open and looked around. It was still your church. The cross still loomed over you like some holy judge and executioner. Were you in purgatory? Well now, that would just be worse than hell, you believed. An entire afterlife full of nothing? You would rather burn in the fiery pits.

“I suggest you step away from my sister.”

“Roy?” You asked immediately even though you knew you should have kept quiet.

You turned around quickly, ignoring the carpet burns on your knees. It was him. Roy was standing near the back of the chapel, rifle held in steady hands. You didn’t know he still had one. It was aimed directly at Mr. Dylan who, for the first time, looked surprised.

“You’d best put that gun down, boy,” Mr. Dylan said. “This don’t involve you.”

“It does if you threaten my sister,” he said again. He wasn’t looking at you but gestured his head. “Come on, sweetheart.”

“Stay where you are,” Mr. Dylan said. He froze when Roy readjusted the rifle.

You kept your eyes on Mr. Dylan as you slowly pushed yourself up to your feet. His grip on the pistol tightened, but he otherwise stayed still. Each step you took was slow, calculated. It felt like you were walking before God to the gates for judgment. Your every move was scrutinised and all it would take was one wrong step.

But he never did anything. He just watched you until you were standing firmly behind Roy. The shakiness that accompanied his every move was gone, replaced with something you didn’t recognise. It was reminiscent of the old Roy, the one who had never gone to war. The only difference was the dull look in his eyes.

“Go get in the truck,” Roy said softly.

“What?” You looked at him. “I ain’t leavin’-”

“-Now.”

There was a harsh tone to his words. Authoritative. He sounded just like Daddy when he was preaching. It left no room for argument; his word was law. There was too much comfort in the way he held the rifle. If you left him, would he kill Mr. Dylan? Would he kill a man in the middle of the church?

He had nearly done the same to you.

Perhaps that was a good point.

“Okay,” you said aloud since he wasn’t looking at you.

You backed away slowly, keeping your eyes glued to the both of them. The last thing you wanted was to turn around and have something happen. It would have been shameful to go out that way. But no one else moved; they just stared at each other until you were out of the church and could run to Roy’s truck.

The silence was almost painful. You could hear the crickets outside creating a symphony with the locusts. If you strained your ears, you could hear a few frogs. But you weren’t listening to the wildlife; you were listening for the gunshot you were afraid was imminent.

Each second ticked by so slowly you felt you had aged another few years. What was taking him so long? He needed to leave Mr. Dylan alone so you could both go home. You could all get some sleep and pretend none of this had ever happened. You wouldn’t tell anyone if he didn’t, you just wanted it all to be over so you could see Lorraine again.

It felt like your heart had nestled in your throat by the time Roy walked outside. He wasn’t even looking back at the church. The rifle was casually slung over his shoulder, and for a moment, you could imagine him in the war. But then he got in the truck and tossed the rifle in the backseat.

He didn’t even put on his seatbelt before driving off.

“What happened?” You asked.

He didn’t answer.

“Roy,” you said again.

He missed the road to your house.

“That’s our turn,” you said aloud.

His hands gripped the wheel tighter.

“Roy, what the hell is goin’ on?” You asked again.

“We stay here, they’ll kill you.” The blood in your veins froze. “I know some guys out East.”

You leaned back in the seat and looked out the window. It was dark outside, but the stars were bright. Orion’s Belt was there, just as always. Night after night, he appeared to give you consistency and comfort. You didn’t entirely feel it.

“What about Lorraine?” You asked. There was no point in hiding it anymore; Roy wasn’t stupid.

Roy sighed. “She’s got Beau and Huck.”

His words didn’t put the pressure back in your chest. No, it was something worse now. It wasn't pressure, it was a knife. A knife that had missed your heart completely, keeping you alive as it twisted deeper, touching your very soul with its fiery edges.

Lorraine wouldn’t know what happened to you. She wouldn’t know where to find you. What if something happened and she needed you? What if you needed her? That wasn’t supposed to be the last kiss you gave her. You weren’t supposed to leave without even telling her goodbye. How were you expected to keep going when you knew you couldn’t see her again?

A hot tear fell down your bruised cheek. God had a cruel sense of humour.

You would have rather died. At least it wouldn’t hurt so bad.

#lorraine day x reader #lorraine x reader #lorraine day #jenna ortega x reader

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cobaltperun · 7 days

Note

OOOH ive been waiting for this one. can we get some soft bottom!sam smut with a top!reader (gn or fem, both is okay) where sam is insecure and isnt used to not being in control, but r shows her its okay and takes good care of her 🤭

for a backstory (if you want to make it longer with more depth and don't have any ideas for the backstory) r and sam have been together since tara and sam moved to new york & r saved her and tara, but got hurt in the process.

obviously you dont have to take this request if youre uncomfortable! either way, i still love your content and hope you stick around this hellhole of a site :)

You're Safe

Bottom Sam Carpenter x Top Female Reader (Request) (Smut - minors do not interact)

Masterlist

Word count: 2.7k

You finally managed to get inside the old theatre by breaking one of the windows. You heard gunshots and while you weren’t all that familiar with Ghostface, you just weren’t all that into horror, though you did hear about Woodsboro killings. Even when you met Sam you wanted to give her a chance to open up to you at her own pace instead of searching for details on the internet. But even you knew Ghostface wasn’t known for using guns.

Your adrenaline skyrocketed, and your sense of self-preservation apparently vanished, because you were running in the direction the gunshots came from. You didn’t even know if Sam or Tara were alive, and you hoped both of them were because if something happened to Tara, and Sam survived she would never forgive herself.

“Come on Sam, you better be okay,” you should have went in with her, if you were already going to break in, you should have tried harder to convince her. Another gunshot made you run faster and you barged into the huge open area filled with glass cases and the big stage with Ghostface figures on it. There was a movie playing, but none of that mattered, Sam was holding Tara over the fence as some guy swung his knife beneath Tara’s feet.

You rushed forward, tackling the man at the cost of getting the knife deep inside your guts as Sam shouted your name and then it all became hectic.

~X~

You grunted, the smell of medicine hit you like a truck, you always hated that smell. Yet, here you were, in the hospital, recovering from three stab wounds to your guts. “Damn, I’m so happy Tara killed that fucker,” you grunted as you tried to sit up.

“Hey, easy, don’t move so suddenly,” you heard Sam rushing to your side and helping you sit up as you finally opened your eyes and looked at her in utter shock.

“Sam? Why are you here?” you asked and her face fell at your question. Shit, that sounded so wrong. You smacked your forehead. “I meant here instead of with Tara, not here as in I don’t want you here. It’s just that you should be with Tara,” you fumbled over your own words desperately trying to fix your mistake.

It seemed to work as Sam looked at you, a soft smile sneaking onto her face. “You don’t hate me?” she asked fearfully, and you hated hearing her like that. Sam was strong, she feared nothing except losing Tara, and hearing her afraid right now, over something like this made you wish to hold her close and never let her go, never allow anything to hurt her again.

“Sam, hey,” you opened your arms and encouraged her to come closer, and though reluctantly she hugged you, her head resting on your chest as she listened to your heartbeat. “I could never hate you, none of what happened is your fault,” you kissed the top of her head as you held her closer and softly combed your fingers through her hair.

“You saved Tara from a serious injury,” her voice wavered. “She’s with Mindy, visiting Chad, by the way,” she told you.

“She saved me as well,” you remembered trying to stop the knife from reaching your throat when Tara came in and kicked the man, Ethan, away from you and slit his throat. By the time she helped you up to your feet because it still wasn’t over Sam and Bailey fell down and you and Tara rushed to Sam.

Sam opened her mouth to speak, but before she could the doors of your hospital room opened and you both looked back, startled, at Tara and Mindy standing there.

“Well, well, well, Sammy can’t resist her cute girl,” Tara teased with the biggest shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen on her face.

Sam blushed and jerked away from you, hitting you stomach by accident. “Shit, Y/N!” she exclaimed when you winced and clutched at the still recovering wound.

“Damn it, Sam, we were teasing, don’t kill her to hide the evidence, poor girl,” Mindy scolded your girlfriend and you somehow managed to raise a thumbs up.

“Still alive and kicking,” you grunted just happy that Sam didn’t reopen the wound. “It takes me back actually,” you nudged Sam with your elbow and found some satisfaction in her face getting even redder.

“I’ll see you later!” she stormed out, and though it hurt, you had to laugh at how embarrassed she got. “Tara, Mindy, come on!” she demanded before the two girls could interrogate you on what you meant.

You just waved at the three of them and lay back on your bed when the doors closed.

You’ve been living in New York for two years now, and you’ve been in your current apartment since about a year ago when the guy living there moved away for a better job. You didn’t think that would lead you to eventually meeting Sam. A bit over half a year ago you were just coming back from work when you saw a beautiful, tall woman going down the stairs. She just drew you in, right from the start. Eventually you started talking and while it began about as casually as it could you and Sam managed to build something solid despite sneaking around and acting like a couple of teenagers.

It didn’t stop you from falling for her, for her fierce protectiveness over her sister and friends, for her kindness hidden behind the walls that needed to be studied, even though they were completely understandable given everything that happened to her. And well, she did flip you over once when you made the mistake of trying to sneak up on her once. In your defense, you had no idea about her involvement in Woodsboro at that point, it was still very early in your relationship and you didn’t think she would just go and throw you down and twist your shoulder. She apologized profusely for that and told you bits and pieces about her life. There were still things you didn’t know, but you pieced enough things together to get the more or less nearly full picture.

And damn, that was the day you discovered you had a thing for a woman that could kick your ass into next week and that what you had was actually really serious.

~X~

About a month since Bailey and his family tried to kill Sam you were lazing around in your living room, just listening to music and chilling with a warm cup of tea next to you. There was a knock on your doors and you damn near wanted to pretend you weren’t home, because you were cozy and didn’t feel like leaving your blanket behind, but maybe it was something important so you groaned, decided to act like a responsible twenty-eight years old woman and got up.

And you were glad you did because you found an annoyed Sam in front of your doors. “Tara and the twins want an apartment to themselves. I, apparently, worry too much that they’ll get a cold by studying on the floor,” she grumbled.

“Well, come on in,” you grinned, pulling her inside and kissing her on the lips. She moaned, her hands gripping your shirt as you pushed her against the now closed doors. Sam opened her mouth as you slid your tongue over her soft lips. You missed this so much, you wanted to get her on your lap, to kiss her, make out with her, to make her moan, but she wanted to make sure you were completely fine, even though your wounds were healed for a few weeks now.

Judging by the way her tongue pushed against your own, and how she was pressing her body against yours you figured it was no longer an issue. Until your phone buzzed in your pocket. You tried to ignore it, separating from Sam’s lips and leaving kisses down her chin and jaw, all the way to the side of her neck as your phone kept buzzing.

“You should see who it is,” she knew how it felt to worry about someone not answering her texts or calls and while she really wanted to keep kissing you she didn’t want anyone to be worried about you like she so often used to be worried about Tara. “Please do, actually. I’m not leaving anytime soon. They won’t let me back in,” she reminded you when you reluctantly took your phone from your pocket.

She watched your eyes widen and then a mischievous grin appeared on your face as you tucked the phone away and lifted her up.

Now, Sam was stronger than you, but you could carry her if needed, and right now you somehow decided you needed to do that. “Y/N?” she laughed, trusting you but still wanting to know what this was for.

“They threw you out, hm?” you teased taking her to the living room and grinning as her face turned completely red. “I got a text from Tara, and I quote: Sam is lying, she just missed you and she might also be horny. One word per text, hence all that buzzing,” the look on her face told you Tara was telling the truth.

“So, any chance we can go straight to the bedroom?” Sam asked sheepishly as she wrapped her arms around your shoulders.

“Of course,” you pecked her on the lips and made your way through your apartment to the bedroom. “Let me take care of you tonight,” you gently lowered her onto your bed and lifted the hem of her shirt a bit. You looked her in her eyes, seeking permission as she bit her lower lip.

“You don’t have to,” she said, she trusted you, she really did, but she struggled to relax and let you take control. It wasn’t about you; it was the very act itself that made her feel vulnerable. Yet, as you looked at her so softly, as you wrapped your arms around her waist and showed her nothing but patience and love, she found herself gradually lowering her guard.

“I’ll pause or completely stop whenever you want me to,” you reassured her, you understood it completely, her needs, her worries, everything. “I love you,” those three words pushed the feeling of guilt away and her gaze lingered on your eyes, on your lips, on the clear message: ‘Take as long as you need, I’ll be here, I’ll never hurt you.’

So, she pushed against your shoulders until you were beneath her and she was straddling your lap. She swallowed hard, grinding slightly against your thigh. “I love you too,” she confessed as you began kissing. She shivered as your hands gripped her hips, firm and steady, as she rocked her hips against you. Your lips felt like fire against her own, especially when you paid extra attention to switch between softly brushing against her lips, just teasing her until she had to deepen the kiss and hot, lip biting, tongues deep inside either of your mouths kisses she couldn’t get enough of.

“Sam,” you sighed, your left hand ghosting over her back. She tilted her head back as you began kissing her neck. Your teeth grazed her skin, biting softly and soothing the skin with your kisses. Sam swallowed her, breathing deeply as her hands lifted your shirt up over your head. Her fingers slid over your skin, your back, your arms, your still covered breasts and stomach. She needed the softness, the gentle way you loved her, and she needed it even more when her thumb caressed the scars you got because you got involved with her.

“We survived, Sam,” you whispered in her ear, moaning softly when she started grinding on you faster. “You’re okay, I got you,” you wouldn’t betray her, ever, she was sure of that and her guard crumbled as she let out a small moan escape past her lips.

Your heart soared when you heard Sam’s moan, it was a rare occasion, she usually only became vocal when she was close, and this was nowhere near enough to get her there. You took her shirt and bra off. “I need you so much,” you sighed against her neck and squeezed her breast, your thumb circled around her nipple as it hardened.

“I need you too,” she said, completely giving up control as you flipped the two of you around once more and lied down next to her so she wouldn’t feel caged in by you.

You pulled her jeans and panties down, getting her naked and just taking the sight in. Her toned body, her abs, biceps, the fact that she was this strong, physically and mentally, yet she still trusted you enough to take control drove you mad.

You invaded all of her senses. Your warm palm teasing her thighs as you left kisses on her shoulders and breasts, and the feel of your hair between her fingers as she spread her legs for you. And the scent, your own scent mixing with the spreading scent of her arousal as she progressively got wetter. The sound of your lips releasing her nipple with a pop and your tongue sliding across her breast to her neck, all the way to her ear. The look of pure lust and desire and all the love you felt for her in your eyes, and the taste of your kiss still lingering on her lips. You were all she could feel, and she couldn’t stop the whimper leaving her parted lips as you finally, finally, touched her pussy lips.

You were slow, methodical, each of your strokes bringing you closer to your goal, each time bringing you closer and closer to her opening, and with each stroke you felt Sam clinging to you harder than before. Her hands dropped to your back, nails digging into your shoulderblades just hard enough for you to feel them, but nowhere nearly hard enough to pierce through the skin. She moaned, louder, without restriction as you parted her lips and dipped your finger into her warm, wet hole. “I got you,” you assured her, feeling her shuddering as you moved the wet finger from her opening to her clit and gently massaged it.

“You got me,” Sam rasped, making sure you knew she felt safe, this exposed and vulnerable with you. She moaned as you kissed down her stomach. She looked down as you gave her a small smirk and flicked her clit with your mouth before pulling it between your lips and sucking on it. “Oh, fuck!” she hissed, breathing harder as you inserted two fingers into her, slowly stretching her out until you found her G spot.

Sam cried out, needing you closer, needing your lips on hers. “Y/N,” she gripped your shoulder, trying to tug you closer as the steady, gentle rhythm of your fingers pushed her closer and closer to the edge.

You understood her needs, you understood the grip on your shoulder and moved up, capturing her lips into a deep, sensual kiss as she hugged you, anchoring herself to you.

“I’m-“ she gasped, separating from your lips and arching her back as her pussy squeezed around your fingers. Her entire body quivered as a deep, guttural moan ripped through her throat. “Y/N!” she cried out, the sensations you’ve been building up fully pushing her over the edge.

You kissed her cheek and she turned to look at you, out of breath as you slipped your fingers out of her and just held her closer. “Thank you,” you whispered as Sam cradled your cheek and kissed you on the lips.

“You’re too good to me,” she sighed, her voice still slightly shaky as she spoke. She still leaned closer to you, letting you caress and massage her to help her as she got down from her high.

“Hush now, you deserve all the love,” you leaned down and flicked her still hard nipple. “Can you go on?” you asked, after all, you had her just for yourself for the whole night. Sam smiled and nodded and damn, you were going to love her all night long.

A/N: There you go Anon! I hope you'll like this 😁😁

#sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x female reader #scream #top reader #bottom sam carpenter #x reader #x female reader

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heartpascal · 1 year

Text

weight too heavy to hold alone

▹— joel miller x platonic!reader

▹— summary: joel’s life in jackson is much more complicated than he thought it would be

▹— a/n: HEY. im not back just yet but thought i’d drop in to give yall this idk!! just something ive been working on between revision yk. hope you enjoy!

▹— warnings: angst, references to death of a child, references to past trauma (very brief, very vague reference, barely there), comparisons to dead daughter (but IS written as gender neutral i think, just behaviour wise), feeling unwanted and unloved

▹— tags: @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915 @erensloveinterest @dazedshoon @faceache111 @randomhoex @canpillowscry @sleepygraves @pedropascalsrealgf @star-wars-lover @coolchick333 @soobsdior @ilybbg @rvjaa @oliest19xx @pedropepsi @sunflowersdrop @truthfuleeyours

MASTERLIST

howl’s song recs

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It was meant to be a temporary thing, that was what Tommy had told Joel. It was the whole reason he had agreed, the whole reason he had relented to having you in his new home, sharing a room with Ellie just down the hall from his own.

Joel should’ve known, really. His and his brother’s versions of temporary were incredibly different, much like night and day, water and oil, hot and cold. Where Joel’s idea of temporary was a few days, at most, Tommy’s was, apparently, a couple of months. But what could he do? You were already here, already settled in on your side of Ellie’s room, with a mattress upon the floor and the bag filled with your things set beside it.

The first few days, Joel had been so on edge he couldn’t sleep, waiting for the moment Ellie made a peep, made the slightest inclination of being uncomfortable in your presence. He was half waiting for you to full-blown attack the two of them, after all, it wouldn’t have been the first time such things had happened to him and Ellie.

But you never did.

Your presence eventually became so… quiet that it was unnoticeable. You would leave the house before Joel and Ellie even thought about waking up, and would only return when they were either busy eating dinner, or already fast asleep in bed. It seemed like you did your absolute best to avoid the two of them.

It was only when he jumped up from his dozing, hearing the faint murmur of Ellie’s voice down the hall, that he clocked on to your presence again. Perhaps it was wrong, morally, for Joel to have crept down the hallway, shiv clutched in an untrusting hand, but who could’ve blamed him? He had done everything in his power to protect Ellie for a long time, by then. And he’d agree that you were young, that he was too harsh, but he’d already lost a daughter once. He wasn’t keen to go through that again.

The shared laughter was what stopped his hand from reaching towards the doorknob. It was quiet, and suddenly Joel was back in his thirties, listening to Sarah and her friends snicker and whisper in her bedroom, the door slightly ajar just to appease him. It had been nearing midnight, back then, Sarah’s birthday coming to a close, and it had also been the first time he had allowed her to have girls and boys over.

He blinked, and came back to the reality of where he was, of what he was holding, of who was on the other side of the door. Joel had only listened for a moment longer, another shared giggle making the tension slide from his shoulders, and it wasn’t long before he was back in his own room, door ajar, shoving the shiv underneath flannels in a shoddy chest of drawers.

Joel could remember that it wasn’t too long after that night that you had joined him and Ellie for dinner, for the very first time. It had been an awkward affair, and it reminded him of the first few times he and Ellie had shared a proper meal together in their new home. You were vaguely uncomfortable the entire time, shooting Ellie looks that you didn’t know he had noticed. Her only response was a snicker, though Joel would’ve guessed from the thunk underneath the table that you had placed a well-aimed kick against her shin.

Still, after dinner, you spoke to him for one of the first times. There had been the introduction when Tommy had brought you over, of course, but this was willing on your end. “Thank you,” You had told him, though didn’t make eye contact. “For dinner, and well, yeah.”

He had nodded at you, a tense smile on his lips, but it was a friendly gesture. Or, as friendly of a gesture as Joel could muster. He remembers the way you had scurried up the stairs almost immediately after, having stuck around only to help clean up and give your thanks.

You started joining them for dinner more after that, though Joel had the suspicion that the first half a dozen times were at Ellie’s command. But with time, and some patience, you warmed up to him just as you had to Ellie. You spoke more, asked more questions, even cracked a few jokes that he was sure you had gotten from one of Ellie’s books. It surprised him how… relieved he was to see the break in your awkwardness.

It had been the first time Joel had seen you with Tommy outside of when he had dropped you at his and Ellie’s that he realised you had a lot more warming up to do than he had thought. There you were, walking at Tommy’s side, chatting animatedly, hands flying around in gestures, face lit up like Joel had never seen before, and all the while Tommy only shook his head, fond smile on his face. There was a certain warmth on Tommy’s face that Joel had only seen when his little brother had been looking at his newborn child, and he couldn’t help but wonder why he had dropped you off at Joel’s if he felt that way? If he saw you as his own?

He tried to ask him those very questions more than once, but each time he found himself somewhat afraid of the answer he’d receive. Joel knew his little brother had always looked up to him, after all, that tends to happen when you practically raise the kid, but after everything… Joel found that he didn’t think he could live up to Tommy’s expectations of him any longer. Maybe, even if Joel would never admit it out loud, he didn’t want to see Tommy realise he couldn’t live up to the idealised version of himself his little brother saw him as.

It was already hard enough with having Ellie — the weight of everything he had lied to her about was tangible, an iron fence putting distance between the two of them. He tried to ignore it. Ellie did, too, but the truth was that she had lost some amount of trust in him. He saw it in the crease of her brows when they spoke, the slant of her lips when he left for patrol, hell — even in the way her gaze changed when she looked at him. It was like she saw somebody she didn’t quite recognise.

Joel felt like he was fighting a losing battle. He’d steel himself before dinners, he’d harden his features before coming home from patrols, he’d even lock himself in his little studio. And yet each time he saw you, there was an unmistakeable softness brought to his features, reminiscent of how it felt to look at Ellie. Each time you would come to him for help, he’d remind himself that he couldn’t be the person that everybody needed him to be. He’d remind himself that he would never — could never — be the person you so clearly wanted him to be.

Because it was more than obvious. Joel wasn’t blind, even if his sight wasn’t what it used to be. He could see it in the way you looked to him for help, in the way you’d heed his advice like you never doubted he could be wrong about something. It was clear in the way you looked at him, like he had the ability to carve the world into whatever he desired, like he possessed a strength you didn’t. You looked at him as if he could save you, and the truth was that Joel couldn’t even save himself.

He was an old man, a foolish man. Joel drowned in guilt he had brought upon himself, liquid a kind of heaviness that settled into his aged lungs. When he looked at you, he saw Sarah. He saw the resemblance in the way the both of you looked out for him — where Sarah had often cooked breakfast, you scraped together some form of dinner when he was on a late patrol, where Sarah had forced vitamin-rich drinks into his hand, you placed painkillers — that must’ve cost a fortune to trade for — on the kitchen counter when he hurt his knee on a patrol. He saw it in the way you looked up to him, the way you believed in him, and it’s like a mirror image of the night his life went to ruin. A reflection of his daughter dying in his arms each time you looked to him for safety.

What could he provide? What could Joel provide that Tommy couldn’t? Hell — that anybody couldn’t? Perhaps, he wondered, the guarantee of disappointment.

“So,” Tommy started one night, sat by his side at the small bar in town, eyebrows raised as he held a glass of twenty-two year old bourbon. “How’s life with the kid? Handlin’ two kids?”

Joel vividly remembers his response, despite his lowered tolerance for alcohol and the multitude of glasses he’d had that night. “You ever gonna get that kid a new place? Not my responsibility to look after your goddamn strays, y’know.” His voice had been gruff, harsh. He thinks, looking back on it, that it digs the pit of regret in his stomach deeper.

“They givin’ you trouble, or something?” Tommy had asked, all furrowed eyebrows then, an expression of something close to disbelief on his face. “Been a good kid, as long as I’ve known ‘em.”

“They’re a good kid, alright, just not my kid.” Joel had replied, scornfully. It was a low blow, he knew now, but he could remember the pounding in his chest, blood rushing through his ears, when he heard you yell out one night. It had been a bad dream, not that you’d admit to it, but Joel was familiar. He could’ve sworn his heart was going to stop that night, the way adrenaline rushed through him, the way he had leaped from his bed as if expecting to have to defend you and Ellie from an onslaught of attackers.

Tommy scoffed in response, and he had averted his eyes, looking away from his older brother as he took a sip of the alcohol that was warming his veins. “Y’know what? I’ll get ‘em a new place, and when it breaks their goddamn heart, I’ll let ‘em know the reason why you wanted them out. Not my kid.” Tommy had shaken his head, and had bid him goodnight soon after. Joel remembers drowning the sting the conversation left him with using decades-old booze.

Now, Joel can pretty confidently say that Tommy hadn’t been looking to get you a new place until that conversation. It wasn’t more than a few weeks after that that you came home with a frown marred across your face, returning much later from canteen-duty than usual. He had been walking to the hall to grab his boots when you had gotten in.

Your expression had only deepened further as you practically stomped into the house, kicking your unlaced boots off in the hallway. “You alright, kiddo?” Joel had asked, brows creased, and he remembers the way the movement reminded him of his younger brother.

“’M fine.” You had muttered out, all stormy expression and blunt words. Joel only tilted his head at you. “Tommy stopped by, said they’re gettin’ me a new place across town. Nearby the school.” You had told him, and your expression was almost hopeful as you waited for his response.

“Oh,” Joel had uttered, expression blank for a moment as he nodded his head, almost mindlessly. “Well, that’s good, right?” He responded, eyes studying you almost cautiously. If he hadn’t been looking, he probably would’ve missed the way your face dropped at his response, as if you had been hoping for him to say something else. Instead, you had let out a quiet scoff, before stomping away with a ‘sure’ said lamely back to him. Joel had looked after you, face plastered with confusion, but his mind had known, even back then, the reason for your disdain. Instead of going after you, of saying anything more on the matter, Joel had foolishly just wiped a hand across his face, and had murmured, “Teenagers.”

For the days after that, you seemed withdrawn but hopeful, as if Joel would finally voice what you had been waiting to hear. He didn’t see much of Ellie, who had made more friends her own age, including some girls named Dina and Cat. Apparently, you weren’t in on that friendship. Which had left you at the house with him, the crease between your brows getting deeper each time things remained silent.

Still, Joel was firm. This was what was meant to happen all along. You were never meant to be a permanent fixture of their lives.

So when the day was finally upon them, Joel accompanied you and his younger brother to your new place, carrying your backpack over one of his shoulders. He had tried to ignore the itchy, uncomfortable feeling in his chest.

“It’s a nice place.” Joel had commented, when the silence stretched for far too long, looking around the studio-like bungalow. It was a converted garage, much like what Ellie was going to have in his back yard, whenever the team could help Joel finish converting it. He was almost surprised when Tommy brought them here, however. For whatever reason, Joel hadn’t thought about the fact that you’d be living alone.

“Yeah, it’s great.” You responded flatly, picking at the cover on what was meant to be your new bed almost absently. Joel dropped your backpack beside the door, nodding his head as he took it all in. You tried not to scoff. “You know Joel, I think it’d be better for me to settle in. Alone.” You said, voice just a step away from miserable, expression blank as you looked at him, at the way he nodded his head, seemingly resigned to this conclusion.

“Sure thing, kid.” Joel sighed out, looking back in when he was stood in the doorway. He tapped his knuckles against the doorframe, opening his mouth to say something, but stopping before anything came out. Instead, he had just nodded, leaving with his hands in his pockets.

He returned to a quiet house, Ellie once again somewhere in town with Dina and Cat, having missed your moving day. Joel quickly found that the silence, the emptiness in the house, was uncomfortable. He hadn’t truly realised just how used to your presence he had gotten. Still, this was for the best. Joel didn’t need another kid on his hands. He’d failed more than once, and that was telling enough. He still couldn’t figure out why Tommy had brought you to him in the first place!

Joel didn’t see you for two days afterwards, though he had asked about you, cornering Tommy and demanding to know how you were settling in. It was unsettling when Tommy had only shrugged, expression harsh and unforgiving.

When he finally did see you again, it was at the Tipsy Bison, where he was sipping at amber liquid, waiting for his younger brother to finish talking to someone down the other end of the bar. “Joel!” You called out, immediately drawing his attention. He stood from the stool he had been sat on, brows creased in concern, drink abandoned on the wooden bar top.

“Everythin’ alright?” He asked, confused and concerned all at once.

“No!” You yelled immediately, seemingly outraged by his question, your features practically collapsing in on themselves. You pointed an accusatory finger at him, and he didn’t miss the way your hands trembled. “You asked them to move me!” You accused, and Joel quickly realised that this was the first time he had seen you outwardly upset. Every other time, your expression had been made of stone, voice cautiously flat. Now, here, your features were like clay, looking as if you had reshaped them over and over, trying to resist the slant of sadness that took over them. There was a distinctive gloss across your eyes, shining and trembling as you tried to force the tears away. “Admit it, Joel! You wanted me gone and you didn’t have the guts to tell me.”

Joel sighed, rubbing his fingers across his brows, pinching at the bridge of his nose. He glared across the bar at where Tommy was observing, false innocence on his face. He was quick to notice that Tommy wasn’t the only one watching, eyes on the two of you as you waited for his response expectantly. “Kid, it was always a temporary thing. You knew that.” He said, hands on his hips as he shifted his stance.

Clearly, that wasn’t the response you wanted to hear, your features falling further, crumpling downwards, and Joel frowned. “It’s not fair.” You said, voice breaking off halfway through, and you swiped your sleeve across your nose, rubbing tears away from your eyes with your fingertips.

“Life ain’t fair, kid, that’s the truth of it.” Joel responded, looking at your face as if your expression held answers to a question he hadn’t asked. “I’m sorry. But you got your own life now, your own place, you can live however you want. Doesn’t sound like a bad deal to me.”

“I don’t want any of it.” You told him, brows furrowed, the crease between them so deep that Joel was sure it was going to become a permanent fixture of your face. His own frown deepened when you blinked and tears marred your cheeks. “It’s not fair,” You repeated, hand outstretched as if you were reaching for him. “Why do I have to be alone?” You asked, and Joel’s face fell, clearly not expecting that question.

Tommy chose that moment to intervene, stepping in between you and Joel, glancing back at his older brother before focusing his full attention on you. He murmured words that Joel could only presume were reassurance. Joel noticed Tommy’s guiding hand on your shoulder as he led you out of the bar, neither of you glancing back. He ignored the stares on him as he turned back to the bar, finished his drink, and left, going home.

He encountered the two of you just down the street, sharing quiet words that seemed harsh even from a distance. Joel thought about turning back, but found himself approaching cautiously.

“Everythin’ alright?” Joel repeated his earlier question, hands outstretched when the two of you turned to him, the setting sun throwing a shade of orange across both of your faces. You openly glared at him, eyes squinted in a show of unrelenting anger, or maybe, more accurately, hurt.

“Go back inside, Joel.” Tommy told him, sounding nothing short of exasperated between dealing with you and dealing with Joel. He sounded tired, too. “Better yet, go home!”

“Listen,” Joel sighed, trying to reach some form of a truce. You cut him off when he opened his mouth to continue.

“No, Joel, Tommy’s right. Go home. I’ve heard enough.” You said, almost scoldingly, and Joel felt as if he was talking to Sarah again, as if it was her telling him off for something. He tried not to think of that last night, of the cake he’d forgotten, of the watch she’d gifted him, but a glance down it said watch reminded him of his failures. “I’m not your kid, remember?” You reminded him, throwing the words he’d said to his brother back in his face. At least this time, Tommy had the idea to look somewhat guilty for telling you that tidbit of information.

Joel frowned at you, cursing himself for his past words. He didn’t want to hurt you. Hell, that was the whole reason he wanted you gone! Joel was trying to protect you from him, from his inevitable failure. He had never really considered that perhaps this was his failure, that perhaps isolating you to a garage apartment on the other side of town was him failing you.

You stared at him, feeling that bricked up wall around your heart reforming, a promise in the back of your mind forming, a promise that said you wouldn’t let yourself be hurt again. “Go home.” You repeated, the words bitter on your tongue, a thought so sharp in your mind appearing that you physically flinched. Why couldn’t Joel understand? He was the only semblance of home you’d ever had, and he had taken that way from you. You thought that for once, you had found somewhere that you belonged, that you had found people who wanted you around, but you were wrong. Nobody wanted you around. At least that much was clear, at least you could be sure about that one thing.

When you had gone to Tommy all those months ago, your chest empty, tears staining your face, you hadn’t trusted his promise that Joel and Ellie would be good for you. You had been so determined to prove him wrong that you had avoided them, had fled the house more than once just to stay away from the two of them. It was horrible, at the start, it was suffocating. Living in a home that wasn’t yours, intruding on a father who wasn’t your own, a daughter who could never be your sister. To begin with, it had been the most isolated you had ever felt.

Up until that night that it all changed, where you and Ellie had laughed until you cried, sharing jokes and stories just to make one another laugh. It had taken a deeper turn from there, to sharing your experiences in the world that strived to end you. You told Ellie things that you had never told anyone, not even Tommy, certainly not Joel, and she had trusted you with things from her journey with Joel in return. Her voice was coloured with warmth when she spoke of him, though it got more despondent when she got to more recent events. Still, it was that very warmth that eventually caused you to relent to her dinner requests.

And then, finally, you had taken to joining them for dinner without being prompted.

You can remember speaking to Tommy about the two of them, about how things had started looking up, about how he may have been right about Joel and Ellie being good for you. Hell, you can remember seeing Joel from the corner of your eye as you told Tommy about becoming closer to Ellie, about a story she had told you.

Now, you wish Tommy would’ve just left you in the state you were pre-Joel and Ellie, because it would have been better than this. It was an all-encompassing ache that surpassed being purely physical. It bled poison deep into your soul, like acid crumbling the pieces of happiness that had begun to sew back together. It hurt. At least before, you knew that the pain wasn’t your fault, that it couldn’t have been. This pain, however, came from your very roots. You had been unequivocally you whilst with Joel and Ellie, and it had come back to bite you. You can’t help but wonder if, just maybe, you had kept to yourself, if you hadn’t immersed yourself in a life that didn’t belong to you, you would’ve avoided this pain. Because the reason Joel kicked you out was because it was you. That was the only explanation. After all, he kept Ellie around, and she wasn’t his kid in the same way you weren’t.

“Kid…”

“I’m not your kid, Joel. Go home and leave me alone. I don’t wanna say it again.” You responded, firm, voice bordering on trembling. Joel watched, with some amount of confusion, as you turned to Tommy, bearing your teeth at him like it would push him away. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you.”

Tommy flinched as if the words were a physical blow, and you missed the betrayed look he gave Joel as you stormed away, walking with purpose towards your garage apartment, where you lived alone. Always alone. From this experience, you could safely say you were ready for it to stay that way.

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haechwrites · 1 year

Text

undercut - L.MK

idol!mark lee x reader

wc: ~1.2k

warnings: nothin. kisses. fluff.

A/N: MARK UNDERCUT!!!!!!!!!! I NEEDED TO GET THIS OUT OF MY SYSTEM also ive been extra delulu don't mind me.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Can I come over? I’ll ask hyung to drop me off at yours.” I could hear the cars passing by him, louder than I expected the city streets to be at 3 am.

“You don’t have a schedule for tomorrow?” I ask, barely holding the phone between my head and shoulder. For some reason, I thought it’d be a good idea to paint my nails at this hour.

“Also blue or red?” I cut him off before he can answer my previous question. I clink the nail polish bottles in my hands.

“Blue. And nooo, it’s my off day…” And then he’s quiet, I can hear his nerves through the phone.

“You want me to say ‘yes,’ don’t you?” I smirk, hoping he can feel my teasing nature from his end.

He groans, annoyed that I’m making it difficult for him and I bite my lip to stop myself from giggling. He’s such a baby.

“Of course I want my girlfriend to say ‘yes’ to me asking to come over. Are you insane?” I listen to him huff and I can sense the text I’m about to get from Renjun, telling me to get Mark to quit whining.

“So dramatic,” I snicker. I start to pack up the nail polish, already knowing he’ll be here in five minutes regardless of my answer. “You’re on your way, right?”

I’m met with silence and I hesitate putting my clear coat back in the cabinet.

“I’m outside.”

“Of course you are. No respect for my decisions I see.” In contrast to my words, my heart is actually racing. I almost slide across the floor at how fast I run to the buzzer.

“Just open the door,” Mark whines some more and I can hear the buzz from the other side. I hang up the phone and open the door, ready to see his face.

It’s been a week since I’ve last seen him, if you’re not counting the facetime calls at random hours – he’s lucky my job isn’t strict on my phone use. I never know how much I miss Mark Lee until he’s busy with his hectic schedules. It took me awhile to accept and appreciate the nature of our relationship. Mark thanks me whenever he can for putting up with his lifestyle. What he doesn’t know is that I love him so much that I can easily make his lifestyle mine. Even if that means seeing him randomly at 3 am on a Wednesday.

I poke my head out and I see a figure stalk down the hallway, a hoodie hiding his head.

“Psst,” I whisper and his head lifts to find my voice. He speedwalks over and I tug him in, carefully closing my front door.

“You know I know where you live right? Like I won’t get lost,” Mark laughs, leaving no time to pull me in for a hug. I feel my muscles relax into his and I don’t realize how much I needed it. His time. His space. Him.

The more I soften in his embrace, the tighter his arms squeeze. “You’re precious cargo. Gotta make sure my man arrives safely.”

“Your man?” Mark leans back to show me how happy my word choice made him. Even on his tired face, his smile shines brightly. No eye bags can hide the gleam of his brown eyes.

I roll my eyes and slap his chest. “You heard me, weirdo. Stop acting like it’s new news.”

“Ahhh,” He lifts my feet off the ground to nuzzle into me some more. “I can’t help that it sounds so good.”

“You know what else sounds good?” I ask when he puts me down. “A movie sesh.”

I split from his embrace, scurrying to the kitchen to hide the new dust of pink on my cheeks. The effect he has on me never wears off, even after all this time. It’s almost embarrassing.

“Ah, my girl’s a genius,” I hear his feet chase after me to hug me from behind as I grab a pack of popcorn from the cabinets. I can feel his soft breathing on my shoulder and it feels unreal that he’s physically here. I can actually feel his chest rise and fall against my back. I’ve gotten so used to listening to him fall asleep on the phone.

“Your girl?” I mock.

“Shut up.” Mark mutters into my shoulder. I reach back to stroke his hair when I’m met with the fabric of his jacket.

“Why do you still have your hoodie up?” I twist around in his arms to face him and his head swiftly repositions to fall into my chest. I try to push his head back up, but he’s stubborn.

“What are you hiding, Mark Lee?” I flick his head and he exclaims.

“Ow! Why are you so violent?” He finally looks up and I flip his hoodie back before he could protest again.

It’s gone. His hair.

“Your hair.”

Mark looks down at me shyly, biting his lip. I watch him run his hand through his undercut, focusing on the fact that it’s so short his black strands don’t file through his fingers anymore. Or that his ends don’t slightly curl around the nape of his neck. He even has etchings shaved into the sides. I can’t remember if I already knew about this and saw it over facetime or if it’s a new change to his appearance. Maybe it’s been longer than a week since I saw him last. The shock on my face is evident.

He squeezes my hip to bring me back. “You like it?” So it is new.

Mark grabs one of my hands and guides it through his haircut. It almost hurts with how prickly it is, but it’s fun. It’s new. And the way he sighs into my hands makes my chest tighten.

“It’s… it’s kinda hot.” I take both of my hands and run them through, not really missing how easy his hair was to tug before. It’s a new look and I can tell he’s confident in it. I wonder if I could get him to shave my initials next time.

“Yeah?” Mark stands up straighter, a fiery look in his eyes as he watches me admire his cut. My fingertips dance across the hair. I barely miss the way his tongue swipes across his lips.

“Yeah, I love it.” I can’t contain my smile, and he chuckles at my reaction. He tugs my waist in closer before planting a long kiss on my cheek. “I can see your pretty face so much better.”

He groans, letting his head fall into the side of my neck, nipping at my skin instinctively. I snicker at his reaction, letting my fingers massage his scalp.

“You’re killing me,” he says, almost like a whisper. I pull his face in front of me, watching the shy pout form on his lips. I give him a peck and watch him chase my mouth for more.

“Ditto.” I admit, caving into his cry for more kisses.

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zerobaselove · 1 month

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zb1 as date ideas, summer edition ♡

pairing: zb1 x reader

genre: fluff

warnings:none i think?? idk ive been staring at this for too long. lowercase intended, not proofread

notes: i am well aware i didn't do a winter one,, or a spring one,, but the winter one is in the drafts and now its may and i just had more inspo for this one so maybe next year LOL. anyways i hope you all like these <3 (bonus points if you can guess the song i'm referencing in jiwoongs LOL)

jiwoong ;

"okay close your eyes," you boyfriend jiwoong said, a smile spread across his face as he reached out to grab your hand, leading you past the closed door reading roof access. you obliged, shutting your eyes as you put your trust in the man, feeling the warm summer breeze hit your face. you had lost track of how many steps you'd taken before being prompted to open your eyes.

it was beautiful.

two chairs and a small table had stood in the normally empty spot by the ledge of the roof, a small blanket folded neatly on one of the seats. string lights were draped along the half wall of the roof top, connecting to the backs of the chairs. a small speaker, softly playing one of your favourite songs, sat on the table alongside two boxes; one with the brand of your favourite restaurant plastered over the side, the other smaller, with a delicate bow placed atop. a present.

"what's all this for, woong?" you questioned, letting go of his hand as you went up to examine the set up a little more. "can't i do nice things for my partner?" he smiled, pulling out one of the chairs, motioning you to sit, "especially when they've just gotten a promotion at their job." he took a seat across from you, admiring the way the warm glow of the string lights illuminated your smiling face.

"you didn't have to do all of this," you insisted, but he merely shook his head. "i wanted to," he grabbed the small present, holding it out to you, "you deserve it, all of this and more."

you grumbled a little more, mumbling a thank you as you opened the box; a ring. "jiwoong, are you-" you started before getting cut off. "i'm not proposing y/n," he chuckled, "not yet at least," you stopped holding your breath, noticing the small engraving on the inside of the ring. 'Even as time goes by, I will always love you.'

you couldn't help but tear up a little as you took in the gift, placing it on your finger, "jiwoong, it's beautiful, thank you." you sniffled, holding back the tears threatening to spill. "if you think that's beautiful," he glanced at his watch, grabbing your hand and leading you to the roof's edge, "then look up."

as if on queue the sky begun exploding in pops of colours all over, decorating the sky like a painting. fireworks. looking over at your boyfriend, the way the fireworks painted his face in shades of oranges and pinks, you couldn't help the feeling swelling up in you, pulling him in for a kiss. "i love you jiwoong, thank you."

"i love you even more."

zhang hao ;

"aren't you coming in?" hao's voice echoed from where he stood between the water and the shore. when your boyfriend suggested a beach date, you thought he meant relaxing on the beach, maybe listening to music or reading. how foolish.

"y/n c'mon!" he yelled, "it's warm and everything!" you shook your head, "i doubt that hao! i'm perfectly fine here!" you insisted, hoping to get back to your book, but it seemed that option was no longer on the table as he stalked up to where you laid on the soft towel. "fine," he mumbled, "i'll just bring you with me then."

he quickly grabbed your arm, your free hand quickly dropping the book as he dragged you closer and closer to the crisp looking water. as soon as your feet touched the rushing wave, a shiver went down your spine. that shiver soon turned into a full body jolt as the water made it's way up your legs, stopping only when you were chest deep in the water.

"fine, fine i'm in." you huffed, "and it is not warm for your information." he laughed at your rather pathetic adjustment to the water, mumbling something about how you'd "get used to it." you would've argued more with the boy if it weren't for the splash of water that just hit your face, thanks to your delightful boyfriend. "zhang hao i'm going to kill you," you nearly shrieked, though you couldn't stop the laughter erupting from your lungs as you chased him through the water.

"can't get me now!" he stuck his tongue out before smiling wide. he was right. you were already neck deep, and thanks to your height difference, he stood far enough out of your grasp that you couldn't grab him, and yet the water was barely touching his shoulders. so you did the only thing you could. payback. you used all your strength to splash water in his direction, effectively soaking the boy, his hair dripping down his forehead.

"you're evil," he chuckled, diving fully underwater this time, long forgoing the idea of keeping his hair nice, only to pop up right beside you, shaking his hair like a wet dog causing you to shriek once more, the two of you bursting into laughter. you both started making your way back to the sandy beach ahead where you volunteered to help the boy dry his hair.

"so, how about popsicles?"

hanbin ;

it took very little to convince your boyfriend hanbin to come with you to the farmer's market being held in your hometown. it was a staple memory of your childhood, coming here as a kid and trying the homemade fudge and petting the little sheep at the petting zoo, sometimes even picking strawberries to make jam with; which you had insisted was on the agenda for the day. when hanbin told you he had never been to anything like it, you knew you had to take him, had to remake those memories with the boy you loved.

"these are gorgeous," you said to the woman sat behind the small table lined with various pieces of jewelry, letting go of hanbin's hand to further inspect a small pendant on a necklace. it was a delicate design, a small outline of a rose on a thin silver chain. "look at this one," you showed the boy next to you. he looked at it and smiled, "it would look great on you, y/n, you should get it." he smiled wide, picturing the dainty accessory along your neck.

you only shook your head a little, "i don't need it," you insisted, "it is really pretty though," you mumbled as you thanked the kind woman as you continued your way through countless stalls. some with bright coloured paintings and fabrics, others with sweet smells that seemed to draw you towards them like a moth to a flame. you had almost made it to the end of the converted barn when hanbin spoke up, "i'm gonna go to the bathroom before we go pick berries, wait here i'll be back." you smiled and nodded at the boy, leaning against the wall of the barn as you awaited his return.

a few moments later, hanbin returned with a wide smile on his face, his hands behind his back, as if he was hiding something. "you didn't go to the bathroom did you?" you questioned, a curious smile tugging at your face as you eyed up the boy, "maybe i didn't," he giggled, pulling out whatever was behind his back, "maybe i was getting my lovely partner the necklace they couldn't stop admiring." he held out the rose necklace, gesturing you to turn around so he could clasp it around your neck.

"hanbin," you whined, a blush rising to your cheeks, and not from the august heat, "you didn't have to."

he shook his head, spinning you back around to admire the way the pendant rested between your collarbones, "a rose for you, one that will never wilt." he placed a kiss to your cheek, "eternal, like my love for you."

matthew ;

"be ready in an hour, we are going on a date :D" you eyed the text on your phone, barely having time to process your boyfriend's antics before you had to be up and getting ready. one quick shower and rushed outfit choice later, you were getting your shoes on as the knock came at the door. opening it to see a smiling matthew standing before you. "so what exactly are we doing?" you questioned, not even noticing the basket in his hand until he raised it in response.

"i thought we could have a little picnic!" he smiled, grabbing your hand with his free hand, "no use in wasting the good weather." he had a point, it was a beautiful day out, and you shouldn't be wasting it inside, like you had planned.

soon enough you two had ended up in the grassy park near your house, setting up under the shade. "you even remembered a blanket!" you smiled wide, sitting down on the soft plaid fabric, watching as your boyfriend sat across from you. "just you wait till you see what else i brought."

he started pulling out what felt like dozens of small containers, all containing your favourite fruits and snacks, some even cut up into cute little shapes like stars and hearts. and last but not least, he had pulled out a mysterious container that seems to make noise when it moved, "what's that one?" you questioned, wondering what else he could've possibly brought. but you couldn't help the smile erupting on your face at the contents of the box.

"oh my god, are we gonna make bracelets?" you beamed, eyeing up the box of goodies; multicoloured beads, small charms, and little circular beads with letters of the alphabet. "you know me so well!"

he chuckled a little at your overjoyed reaction, placing a kiss on your lips, "glad you like it," his gaze turned back to the containers littering the blanket, "let's eat first though, i'm starving." you both laughed as you dug into the countless snacks in front of you.

as the hours passed, the two of you had made a dent in, and put away the snacks, and had made a handful of bracelets and keychains for each other; your personal favourite being the matching initial bracelets you now sported. and now you were enjoying the sunny weather, your head in matthew's lap while he played with your hair.

you didn't notice when the boy had picked up the small oxeye daisy, but as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, gently placing the white flower with it, you couldn't help but giggle at the innocent act.

"there," he smiled, admiring the way it complimented your beauty in a way he couldn't describe, "perfect, just like you."

taerae ;

date nights with taerae had become routine for you two, especially in the summer months when it was warm enough to stay out late, just how you both preferred it. usually you both decided on the dates together, but tonight had been a surprise, your only hint being to dress comfy, and that you did.

so when the two of you pulled up to a drive-in movie theater, you were ecstatic. "i've always wanted to do this taerae, how'd you know?" you beamed as he drove up to an empty spot, backing in so the bed of the truck faced the sizable screen. "wild guess," he chuckled, hopping out of the car to come open your door. you were too busy admiring the setting sun behind the screen that you didn't even notice the blankets and bags of snacks that had seemingly magically appeared out of the backseat.

within minutes, taerae had set up the bed of the truck to look nearly as comfy as your bed. blankets and pillows strewn across , leaving two small areas for you both to sit. you joined him in the back, thanks to a helpful hand to actually get you up there, and got comfy just in time for the title screen to roll. a laugh escaped your lips as the familiar surfing montage played.

"teen beach movie? really?" you gaze him a joking glance, though not complaining about the choice. "don't laugh!" he smiled, lightly hitting you on the arm, "we both know you love this movie, and so do i," the last part was barely above a mumble, as if he didn't want to admit his childish taste. "it's perfect taerae, you're perfect."

the two of you had the night of your lives. between the laughable cheesy lines from the movie, and the catchy hits that you both knew all the words to, it was everything you could've hoped for.

as the two of you packed up the truck and got ready to leave, you couldn't seem to wipe the smile off of your face. "we have to do that again before summer is over," you insisted, grabbing his free hand as the two of you drove towards your home.

"we can come back whenever you want my love, i hear they're playing the sequel next week." the two of you burst into laughter, "sounds like a date."

ricky ;

"what are you wearing to the festival today?" you asked your boyfriend ricky over the phone as you stared at your full closet, unsure of what would be cherry blossom festival attire. his smile was almost audible through the phone, "you'll look pretty in anything y/n, don't stress so much."

you only sighed, looking towards the phone as if he could see your glare, "i'm not stressing, i just wanna coordinate with my stylish and cool boyfriend." you said matter-of-factly. it was no surprise to anyone that your boyfriend typically dressed well, especially for nice occasions, so why wouldn't you want to match him. he only chuckled, "well i'm wearing a white sweater and light green pants, does that help?" you hummed in approval as you grabbed a pair of white flowy pants and a sage green loose button down. it would have to do, you told yourself.

soon enough you heard ricky's car pulling up and you rushed to get a pair of shoes on, remembering to pick a comfortable pair in hopes of the walking you were about to do not killing your feet. "well don't you look stunning," ricky mumbled as he met you at the door, snaking his arms around your waist and hugging you briefly, breathing in the smell of your perfume. "i could say the same to you," you smiled before making your way to the car.

the festival was beautiful. that might even be an understatement. the pale pink flowers were in full bloom and the light breeze blowing some of the petals around only added to the picturesque feel of it all. you couldn't help but admire the blossoming trees as you walked a bit ahead of your boyfriend. he had no complaints though, it gave him an opportunity to take some candid pictures. he needed a new lockscreen anyways.

"ricky! ricky!" you called back to the boy a few feet behind you, "they have a lock bridge, we have to go!" he let out a laugh at your excitement as you grabbed his hand, nearly yanking him towards the small stand selling the colourful locks. you had decided on a bright red one, the colour of love, ricky had insisted as you both grabbed a marker to write your names on the lock. "what's taking so long," you whined at the boy, his face hardened in concentration with the lock and pen still in his hand. you didn't hear a response until a few moments later when he mumbled, announcing his finish,

your eyes scanned over the back of the lock as he handed it back to you, a rose, beautifully drawn along the back surface. the red lock had perfectly filled in the petals colours. "do you ever get tired of being so talented?" you asked, your gaze shifting from the lock to the boy in front of you. he jokingly hushed you as you both made your way to the bridge's railing.

"to forever and always," you smiled, the boy planting a kiss on your temple before repeating your words, "to forever and always."

gyuvin ;

"y/n do you have any more quarters?" your boyfriend begged, pleading with you as you stood in front of about a dozen ducks sat in the water, gazing up at gyuvin. "gyuvin we've been here feeding them for the last 15 minutes, lets go look at some other animals." you insisted, attempting to lure him away from the ducks that weren't even really apart of the zoo's attractions.

after some back and forth, and a couple fun facts about the zoo's panda exhibit that you had researched beforehand, you had convinced the boy to take your hand again as you made your way through the winding paths.

"y/n look!!" gyuvin yelled, drawing the attention of some people passing by, and even some of the creatures within the cages. the urgency made you whip your head around, seeing two ring-tailed lemurs up high inside one of the enclosures, seemingly glaring at the tall and excited boy next to you as they let out a few indescribable noises.

without second thought, gyuvin had started to mimic the noises, or rather attempt to, in an effort to communicate with the creatures, only leading you to shake your head. "i'm just gonna pretend i don't know you," you joked, still not leaving his side. it was cute watching him get so excited over all the little animals, you couldn't lie.

hours passed like this; one of you dragging the other to the wall of an enclosure, excitedly pointing at some animal, even stopping to take some pictures of, or with, the animals when you could. it was only when the sun began it's descent that the two of you decided to call it a day, having looped back around to the beginning of the zoo, marked by a large blue fountain.

"i have a couple coins left," you smiled, rifling through your bag to grab the loose change, "let's make a wish."

"i thought you said you didn't have any quarters left." gyuvin jokingly huffed, hands on his hips, "they're nickels, gyu," you laughed, handing him one of the silver coins, "and besides, those ducks were well fed after you were done with them i can promise you that."

the two of you let silence surround you for a moment as you both wished on the coins, tossing them into the fountain with a content hum. "so what did you wish for?" you asked the boy as you walked out of the park. "if i tell you, it won't come true!" he insisted, unwilling to give up the information.

little did you know, he hadn't wished for anything other than for things to stay as they are right now, to stay by your side. and little did he know, you had wished for the same thing.

gunwook ;

"have you seen the moon tonight?" the text read. leave it to gunwook to know exactly when to text you; your saviour from the sleepless night staring at the ceiling. you typed back a quick reply, "no why?" his response came before you could even shut your phone off. it simply read, "come outside." and so you did. throwing on the nearest pair of shoes, you walked outside, being met with a brisk summer night's breeze and a smiling boy, cheeks illuminated by the streetlight.

"what would you have done if i didn't come out?" you laughed at the boy waiting for you. "i knew you would." he stated simply, waiting for you to reach him before the two of you set off along the road you both grew up on. "full moon." he beamed, pointing at the clearing between the roofs, your line of sight following where he pointed, not quite seeing the moon, only the glow from behind one of the houses.

sensing your struggle, he grabbed your hand, pulling you closer to him, your back nearly pressed to his chest as his hands lightly tilted your head in the right direction, finally seeing the beauty glowing before you. "it's huge!" you exclaimed, louder than you wanted in the silent street, save for the buzz of the streetlights and whirls of wind. he mumbled some agreement as the two of you kept walking to nowhere in particular as you quietly chatted about everything and nothing.

somehow the two of you had ended up at the park nearby, sitting yourselves on the swings as you continued your late night chats. the higher the moon rose in the sky, the less you cared what you were saying, and the more philosophical and somehow nonsensical the conversations got.

you were unsure how long you'd been outside, but at some point the wind had started nipping at your skin and you couldn't stop the shiver that ran down your spine. without words shared, gunwook shrugged off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders. "no no," you insisted, "keep it, you'll get a cold." he laughed, shaking his head, "i'll be okay i promise," grabbing your hand, he stood up, leaving you to follow suit, "we should head back anyways."

soon enough you ended up back under the streetlight outside your house, not quite ready to say goodbye, but promising to hang out again the next day. gunwook was already a few houses down when you noticed the thick jacket still keeping the wind at bay, "wook!" you called out quietly, just loud enough for him to hear, "what about your jacket?"

"keep it, you look better in it than i do anyways." he smiled, continuing his walking pace, "see you tomorrow y/n!"

yujin ;

"why is it so dark in here," yujin whined, bright green putter in hand as his eyes adjusted to the interior of the glow in the dark mini golf course. "can't glow in the dark without the dark yujinnie." you laughed, setting your ball up for the first shot, narrowly missing the chance of a hole in one as the ball skimmed past the glowing flag.

he groaned at your obvious response, groaning again as the undershot the ball by a good few feet. "how am i supposed to win like this!" his gaze eyeing your ball as you make it in this time, "this isn't fair!"

you couldn't help but laugh at the boy's newfound struggle. "not used to sucking at a sport are you?" a giggle pushed past your lips, "i'm starting to feel real good about our ice cream bet." you said as you watched him miss the mark once more, the ball bouncing off the side of the only obstacle in this stretch of the course. he only grumbled as he finally made the shot, letting out a sigh of relief as he picked up the glowing ball, heading over to the next hole.

the longer you played the better yujin was getting, and the more competitive you both got as you neared the end of the mini golf course. "i'll take cotton candy," he said smugly, having tied up the game by the last hole, "if you win," you clarified, staring him down with a smile as you watched him line up the shot. "i think you mean when i win y/n" he chuckled, taking the shot.

and missing.

the boy dramatically dropped to his knees, causing you to burst into a fit of laughter, ""so what was that again? "don't laugh yet," he insisted, still on the floor on the course, "you have to get it right now or the next shot's mine." "easy peasy." you mumbled, taking your shot and watching it go right into the hole marked with the glowing flag.

you could only faintly make out his sounds of defeat as you jumped up in excitement, "cotton candy sounds great right now doesn't it?" you teased, smiling at the boy as you walked over, offering out your hand.

"yeah yeah," he let out a small laugh, taking you hand as he got up off the ground, "let's go get ice cream."

#zerobaseone #zerobaseonefics #boys planet #boys planet fics #boys planet imagines #boys planet reactions #kpop #boys planet drabbles #zb1 #zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines #zerobaseone x reader #zerobaseone imagines

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matrixbearer2024 · 4 months

Note

HEYYYYY so ive been thinking, what if reader is like good at singing and one day when vox tells her he’ll be out for a meeting and then they start busting down them tunes not knowing vox came back and then after theyre done singing vox is just like “wow that sucked” (bro does NOT want to compliment them🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️🚫🚫)

Sing-Song Shenanigans

A/N: HAHAHAHAHA I've been wanting to incorporate this into a new interlude and now this has absolutely given me the chance to- Vox at this point is practically wrapped around our dear Reader's pinkie, he's just in denial about it not to mention absolutely clueless. He compliments (Y/N) easily whenever he can pull the charm but his default is usually: "Haha lol u suck + ratio" while he not so subtly overheats and melts on the other side-

A/N: Also- this is the song Reader sings- I know the voice for Vox is outdated but the point is just it's his song that Reader sings lololol- Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this one and as always- happy reading!

youtube

You honestly didn't know if you should've expected this or not.

For someone as egotistical as Vox-

It kind of made sense that he would've straight up written his own theme song.

You only joked about it offhandedly-

Only for him to actually send you an audio file with a song he wrote and SANG.

Did he just have the file on hand or something??

You just looked up at the TV screen dumbfounded.

"I never aired it, I was just an up and coming overlord when it was made."

Came his nonchalant reply, you could only guess he shrugged but since his face was all you saw it was just a guess.

"I'll give it a listen later, you weren't finished with your story!"

"Right, where was I?"

And just like that, you both continued talking well into the night.

You'd actually almost forgotten about the audio file when Vox disconnected and bid you good night and adieu.

But seeing it in the chats when you opened your phone reminded you.

Well, it was probably cringe and you could make fun of Vox the next time around-

So you gave it a listen.

Only for the song to be pretty catchy and good.

Like the beat was stuck in your head good.

You didn't think that would've been the case at all.

And he said he didn't air this??

What the hell Vox???

Before you knew it, the darn thing ended up playing on loop more times than you would dare recall.

Too bad you couldn't include it into your playlist since that would mean having to publish it.

And you were just not ready to have that conversation with Vox yet.

Especially when it meant admitting that you liked listening to his singing.

And fuck THAT.

You absentmindedly hummed the tune on the way to university-

While you traversed between classrooms-

Even during breaks.

It only hit you that it actually was stuck in your head when you were asked about it.

"Yoooo (Y/N), what's that new bop you're listening to? It sounds pretty good from just your humming."

"Oh uh... it's a song a friend wrote. He sent it to me to... ask for my opinion!"

"Really? Can you send it to me too? I want to give it a listen!"

At least they didn't notice your awkwardness answering their question.

But because you didn't want to make it seem even weirder-

You hesitantly agreed to let your friend listen in as well.

Only for them to seriously cement what you didn't want to hear.

"Dude! They should publish this! It's a banger!"

"Eh? You think so?"

You knew the last thing Vox needed was another ego boost.

Maybe you could just keep silent about this whole thing?

"Hell yeah! What's their name?"

Or not.

Fuck.

"Of the song-?"

"The artist you goof, what does your friend call themselves? Surely they've got to be making music for a while with this experience."

Your friends had absolutely no idea you were friends with a technology demon overlord.

Even if it was their shenanigans that summoned his presence in the fucking first place!

You still couldn't decide whether to be annoyed or grateful for that fact-

What the hell were you even supposed to tell them??

"Uhhh... Vox?"

"Vox? That's a weird name. I almost thought you said 'aux', like the aux port."

You didn't notice that before, was his name actually an alias?

You weren't even surprised at this point if it was.

"Y-yeah, it's a mix of the words voice and aux! He came up with it!"

You pat yourself on the back for that bullshit reason, who cares at this point if it was right or not-

You could always just ask Vox personally later.

"Well you should ask him if we can make a music video for it!"

"Excuse me what-"

That immediately made you blank.

Did you seriously hear that right-

A fucking music video???

Problem was, you were way too deep into this conversation to back out now.

"Yeah! It would work for the music project the school's been encouraging!"

Right... the community music program your university's been doing to help spread the names of up and aspiring artists.

Problem being how in the fucking hell were you supposed to dodge a very blatant unspoken issue.

Which was the fact the song's writer and producer had been dead for DECADES.

That and you didn't even want to think of the ego boost Vox would get if you told him that your friends wanted to make a music video of his theme song.

They didn't know about him, but you were sure it would immediately go to the overlord's head.

Could this day get any worse??

"Uhhh- yeaaaah- I'll see what I can do?"

"Come on (Y/N)! You've got to at least try and convince him! This'll be a hit once it's out!"

You hated that you agreed with the fact the song most likely would be a hit.

Especially with the new rise of electro-pop.

God fucking damn it-

So that's how you found yourself pacing your living room waiting for Vox to finish with his meeting.

Well, if you guys were to make a music video anyway... might as well practice right?

Vox was a little bit concerned when you suddenly shot him a message during a meeting asking to meet up.

Especially when he couldn't really figure out what was wrong.

You seemed just fine a while ago?

Did something happen in class?

He looked back at your messages in the chat while he wracked his brain for any clues.

"Hey uh- if you're not busy I need to talk to you?"

"Why the rush doll? Miss me already?"

"In your dreams Samsung! Something came up and I need to talk to you."

"I'm in a meeting right now but I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks."

Suffice to say, he rushed the meeting so it would end quickly.

Vox didn't really even care that there were some things that still needed polishing with the presented concept.

It was a problem he could deal with later.

First, he needed to check what was wrong with you.

So you could imagine his surprise when he saw you on his feed dancing and singing.

Had you connected your computer up to the TV while waiting for him?

Vox just silently watched your antics while a familiar tune played in the background to accompany your actions.

"So I'll corrupt, manipulate, control what they see~"

Admittedly, the overlord found himself enraptured by your movements and singing.

He really couldn't help but stare as you danced around and performed to no one in particular.

If he'd only known that you would like his music sooner-

Maybe he'd have sent you more.

"I am the master of obscuring through our technology~!"

Vox didn't really think much of the song he'd sent you the other night.

A slight nervousness hit him when he was about to sleep wondering if you'd like it-

But clearly-

He didn't need to be worried at all.

"I'll sell your every single weakness back to you for a fee!"

A part of him wanted to just appear and see if you'd notice-

But the risk of cutting your performance short stopped him from going through with it.

"Don't be a fool and stand there droolin'-"

Vox couldn't help but chuckle, well-

That line was more ironic that it should've been in this situation.

"Get those Eyes. On. Me!"

His fans whirred loudly at this point, while your dance moves were quite clumsy and even random compared to more seasoned dancers-

Vox couldn't help but think you were just friggin adorable.

"Take a chance, play my game, get the rush in your veins~"

He really tried to keep his cool-

The overlord really really tried.

But he couldn't help the stupid grin on his face when he discreetly appeared on your TV.

"I'm sending out my signal download into your brain~!"

That was when he realized your eyes were closed.

It seems like whether or not he'd have appeared you wouldn't notice.

"And I'll be conquerin' the airwaves, I'm on all of your screens-"

As much as it was his theme song, Vox felt like you could rock the vibe just as well.

Which was so hilariously disconnected that he couldn't help but softly chuckle imagining it.

Well, maybe it was about time you realized he was actually here.

"So pay up motherfuckers, you belong to Vee!"

You screamed in surprise when you heard his voice from behind you.

The direction of the speaker was far enough for you to realize your digital companion appeared on the TV.

Of course he just had to join in at the last moment!

Wait-

"HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN THERE?!"

Your face was beet red from embarrassment, he wasn't supposed to see any of that!

"Long enough, I didn't realize you liked the song that much dollface!"

You practically swore at him up and down as Vox laughed and mercilessly teased you.

He seriously could've given you any hint if he arrived!

The fucking jerk-!

"I'm not doing it for you! My friends gave a listen to your song and they want to make a music video for it!"

Vox hummed thoughtfully, he was still on his high watching you get all shy and flustered.

You were so fucking cute-

"I'll agree to it on one condition."

You were almost too scared to even ask, weighing your choices before eventually daring to inquire.

The grin the overlord gave you immediately made you regret pushing forward with it.

"Fine fine, what's the condition?"

"That you perform and sing in the music video and send it to me."

"What?! Why?!"

Vox just laughed at your expense, the fact you were practically steaming out the ears because of him was the most entertaining thing he'd seen all day.

"Why not? Can't I have a look at the final product I'm agreeing to?"

You stuttered and huffed, he had a point there.

Fucking hell....

You should've never agreed to that fucking music video!!!

"Oh shut up, you just wanna see me sing and dance."

"Not really, your performance sucked."

"Oh fuck off Vox!"

The overlord just continued to laugh at how blushy and red you got.

Maybe he did enjoy your singing and dancing.

Well, it's not like he'll ever admit it.

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel x reader #vox #hazbin vox #hazbin vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #vox x you #get off my screen series

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smizzy · 2 years

Text

no words

i been doin that brazilian dance on tiktok hmu if you wanna battle ive been practicing

You know dating Wednesday Addams comes with more lows than highs but you don't seem to be picking a fight, although she doesn't show emotion -generally speaking- but you can tell by the neutral comments she makes, or the loving -cold- stares, letting you copy her homework when you don't feel in the slightest mood to put your brain to work, maybe on a good morning she'd greet you with a kiss and leave you with a kiss at the end of the day.

But now, during this time you wouldn't say you and Addams aren't on speaking terms from a heated disagreement that left you both even Thing in disturbing silence. You were sitting on her bed while she was doing her daily 1-hour writing but since the argument it would be a 10-hour writing or maybe until one of you apologize you were thinking so many thoughts you didn't notice Thing silently move towards you signing that 'it felt weird, maybe you should talk to her' You're thinking about it for a quick minute but if you remember very vividly she was the one who popped off on you, said majority of the words being said, didn't acknowledge your presence before and still doesn't now.

You shook your head to Thing and put on an annoyed face and mouthing a "she started it. So she should." Crossing your arms over your chest seeing Thing go back, sorry's from Wednesday Addams were only said if it was needed and you knew a sorry wasn't what you were gonna get. You kept thinking of what to do around Nevermore knowing Enid, Yoko, and Bianca were out doing whatever and Weems has the whole school on lock down.

An idea popped up in your head saying you were gonna leave and even though you didn't have no where else to go except your own dorm it would be better than staying in a tormenting dorm room, You already felt annoyed from the silence. Motioned to Thing to moved to your side of the bed and told him your idea he looked like he didn't wanna get punished by Wednesday but was still willing to go along.

Picking up your shoes from the side of her bed and grabbing your sweater from a coat rack all the way in the webbed corner of her side and if you looked back a little faster you'd see the Addams girl looking at you up and down not wanting to say anything but she definitely didn't want you leaving and instead looked at Thing to which he shrugged back.

"Where are you going." "Out?" "It's past curfew." "mmmkay?" "It's a lockdown tonight so you should wait." "Since when do you care about those"

She stood up now so you two were both standing facing each other, as she looked up right into your eyes trying to find an answer you already had the urge to kiss her lips, wondering lovingly if those colored lips would smudge yours but kept it together because you still felt annoyed that now she wants to speak to you.

"Since when do you wish to leave the room so badly." "I'm not going to argue with you on this right now, if you need time to sort stuff ou-" You didn't even know she grabbed your uniform collar making you lean forward til you felt a pair of lips meeting yours, a soft kiss that lasted a little bit more than a 'peck' And you knew she purposefully made it longer than it should've but you weren't even complaining in the slightest, feeling like an hour already she finally let go of your purple striped uniform and pulled away already looking back into your eyes again.

"You still want to go?" "mm yes! actually as a matter of fact" You were joking of course because now you were intrigued with those kisses. She could not believe what she was hearing right now so she devised her final plan: to hug/trap you in her room at least until Enid came back which you both didn't know when she would return. Opening her arms in a swift motion and wrapped them around your waist while she was listening very closely into your beating heart, confused clearly you just missed the whole thing. "Don't go" "Please" You didn't want to fold into the hug but once you heard that last word coming out of her muffled mouth you couldn't help but bringing your arms out and embracing her, though it sounded more of an order than a question you'd rather be happily in love with your girlfriend who wants you 25/8 but would never admit it but that's okay because you know she knows that you know now....yea

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams imagines #wednesday netflix #xavier thorpe #wednesday x tyler #wednesday series #jenna ortega icons #jenna ortega #wednesday 2022 #wednesday x reader #wenclair #hunter doohan #bianca barclay #wednesday addams #wednesday icons #wednesday addams x fem!reader

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chelseeebe · 8 months

Text

addict.

a/n: this has been in drafts for LONGGG and is basically a continuation of shameless. i wanted to post something because ive been slacking with writing and ideas so i hope this suffices lol

18+. smut. cheating whoops. it’s a tiny bit angsty i guess but it’s happy in the end bc we all love that don’t we

listened to bathroom - montell fish writing this ;)

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙

‘so what’re you doing tonight?’ connor asks, eyes soft as he leans against the metal shelving unit, finally getting a free moment without customers.

‘uh.. nothi-,’ you’re cut off by a curious steve, bounding down the aisle to intervene in your potential plans, slinging his arm around your shoulder, smug grin plastered on his face.

‘oh no she’s busy tonight,’ his face twisting into a sarcastic, not-really-sorry expression, ‘sorry bud,’ shrugging as his hand dangerously nears your breast.

‘steve- you’re..’ you look back to a disappointed connor, his eyebrows raised, not prepared to argue with steve over this, ‘maybe another day?’ offering him an apologetic smile, swatting steve’s wandering hand away.

‘ahh.. yeah yeah, sure,’ connor nods, disappointment in his voice as he backs off, trotting down the aisle, leaving you with a cocky steve who’s hand had already found it’s way back to your chest.

you glare up at him, ‘you’re such an asshole,’ you bite, pulling yourself from his grip, justifiably annoyed by his cock-blocking.

‘don’t tell me you actually wanted to go out with him? besides, you are busy tonight,’ he smirks, reaching out to grab onto your waist, closing the space between you in a few short steps.

‘oh yeah? what am i doing tonight then?’ raising your eyebrow as your back presses against the cold metal of the shelf, steve’s hungry eyes leering down at yours.

you weren’t really mad at him. it wasn’t like you didn’t want to go out with connor, it was just that you were sure he wanted something more.. serious. and you weren’t exactly sure how to let him down gently.

‘well me hopefully,’ steve grins, his fingers loosely pulling your cheap, polyester work shirt up. your hand clamps down on top of his, well aware that you were still in work.

you push his chest with your free hand, keeping a stoic expression, ‘is that so? daisy’s at work then?’ his fingers grip onto your shirt, keeping you close.

he rolls his eyes, ‘yeah, she is.. i’ll be outside at five, up to you if you wanna come,’ wiggling his eyebrows, already certain that you weren’t saying no.

you purse your lips together, faux-pondering, ‘ugh, you’re so romantic,’ keeping your hand on top of his as he moves in again, fingers gripping your fleshy hips.

‘if you want romance, i can give you romance.. you just gotta give me a chance baby,’ his head dips, careless about where you were and who could see you.

‘get off of me,’ you scoff, pushing him back once more, managing to wriggle from his hold and backing up the aisle.

‘i’ll see you at five,’ he calls out after you, grinning to himself as he watches your hips move as you walk off.

sure enough he’s in the parking lot when you walk out at five, leaning against his car with a boastful smile as he watches connor walk off to his own car and you walk over to his. he’d won and there wasn’t even a contest.

‘you don’t need to rub it in,’ poking him in the shoulder as you open the passenger door, glaring at him before sliding into the leather seat.

he follows, tongue peaking out over his bottom lip as he gets into the car, ‘i didn’t even say anything,’ holding his hands up in innocence.

‘you didn’t have to,’ shaking your head. granted, connor was a little desperate but that didn’t mean steve had to be a prick about it.

the drive to his place is rather intense, you’d had half a mind to just get him to pull over somewhere on one of the back roads. his fingers creeping from your knee and somehow ending up between your thighs, teasing your clothed cunt as he drove. watching you squirm in the passenger seat with a sickening smirk on his face the entire time.

‘what the fuck?’ he exclaims, free hand hitting the steering wheel as he pulls into his driveway.

your eyes springing open to find daisy’s car parked haphazardly in front of steve’s, ‘i thought you said she wasn’t here?’ jutting your bottom lip out, disappointed and now worked up with no release.

‘she’s not supposed to be,’ he complains, ‘fuuuck,’ hitting the steering wheel again, ‘d’you think she’s seen me? we could go to..’ trailing off as your eyes follow his to see daisy peering out of the door, probably why her boyfriend was taking so long to get inside.

his hand shoots from your thigh, flashing her a feeble smile. you feel like a colossal bitch, clambering out of the car to give her a short wave.

maybe you should have taken connor up on his offer after all.

going out with the entire gang could never go well. especially not when daisy had tagged along, sitting next to steve like a lost puppy dog, not understanding any of the niche inside jokes and thankfully not catching on to the reckless looks steve had been slinging your way.

there’s only one dinghy little club in hawkin’s, so that’s where you went. dancing on the sticky vinyl floor, with a glass of watered down vodka in your hand. nancy and robin dancing alongside, they liked to act like they hadn’t a clue what was going on, but you knew steve had slipped up once or twice and perhaps you hadn’t been as quiet as you’d thought you were that one time you’d all stayed at nancy’s.

it didn’t matter though, neither of them wanted the hassle of getting involved. confident that whatever was happening would resolve itself one way or another.

their eyes gave enough away anyway, watching intently as steve saunters across the dance floor, running his hand along the small of your back as he walked through the crowd to the tiny, shared bathroom cubicle at the other end of the room. there was no need to even look at each other. you knew the drill.

waiting a mere few minutes before following him past the crowds of dancing patrons, promising nance that you’d be back in a few minutes and she could have the rest of your drink if she wanted. you wouldn’t normally be so brash and careless about what you were doing but after a few drinks and the massive cock-block daisy had given you the other day, you could not have cared less.

rapping your knuckles against the splintered wood door twice and waiting for the lock to slide open before slipping inside. steve pouncing on you the second you’re inside, one hand fumbling to lock the door as the other grips onto your waist, back hitting the ceramic basin as his lips press against yours rather hungrily.

there’s hardly enough time to catch your breath before the lock is jammed into place and the previously free hand is sliding up your thigh and under the tight skirt that may have only worn to piss him off.

‘jesus.. steve..’ you manage to get out between kisses, fingers curling into his hair while you struggle to get onto the sink, using the back of his neck to hoist yourself up.

‘i can’t help it.. couldn’t wait,’ he murmurs, digging tiny half-circles into the squishy skin on your hips, angling them towards his, moving down to attack your neck, teeth grazing against your jaw bone.

his lips press against your neck, peppering sloppy kisses to the sensitive skin, breath hot as his hips press against yours. the denim of his jeans pressing against your thighs, hooking your legs around his waist to keep him close.

‘fuuck, i would.. do.. anything for you,’ he breathes between kisses, already losing his composure and he wasn’t even inside of you yet.

your fingernails digging into his tense shoulders, ‘shut up,’ groaning as his erection brushes against your sensitive clit through your panties, the thump of the music outside of the tiny room growing.

his movements are antagonistically slow, you weren’t sure if he was teasing or just trying to make himself last long enough that you wouldn’t laugh at him.

‘i’m serious.. i want you,’ he murmurs, moving back up to level with your face, pupils dilated in a mix of lust and intoxication, jaw slack as pink tongue peaks out to wet his lips.

‘show me,’ pressing your forehead to his, grazing your fingernails down his lean back, tugging at the material in an attempt to hurry him.

sure, steve was always trying to convince you to fall in love with him but it increased tenfold after a drink. if you’d only say the word, he’d storm out of this bathroom and breakup with daisy in front of everyone. but you wouldn’t. and honestly? if she couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on by this point, then maybe she deserved it.

‘i will.. i will,’ he repeats, fumbling with his belt buckle, desperate to keep his eyes on yours while he does so, prolonging the entire process as his drunken fingers struggle to undo the metal.

‘steve?’ daisy’s muffled voice calls from the other side of the door, barely audible over the music, ‘steve?’ knuckles now banging on the door.

you can’t contain the eye roll that follows, keeping him between your legs as the knocking persists. his jaw gritting in determination to get this damn belt undone, despite the fact his girlfriend is very much stood on the other side of the door.

‘i’ll be out in a minute,’ he calls out, your body tensing in response, if he’d just shut his mouth, she would’ve fucked off soon enough.

‘oh, you are in there.. i wanna go home.. i’m tired,’ she complains through the wood. his fingers finally get a grip on the buckle, sliding it undone and hurriedly tugging his jeans and boxers down together, resting on his large thighs.

‘okay..’ sucking the air between his teeth as your legs widen around him, pulling your lacy panties to the side, positioning himself at your already soaked entrance, ‘i-i’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?’

his hand clamps over your mouth before pushing himself into your cunt, his own groan strangling in his throat at the feeling of your warmth, disgusting the noise with a half-assed cough. your hand coming to grip onto his wrist, the other holding onto the white basin as he begins to move slowly.

‘well.. no, are you not coming with me? i don’t wanna go alone..’ she grumbles, though you aren’t paying attention to anything else right now, focussing on containing the explicit moans from escaping through his hand.

‘ohhh christ.. no, no.. you go- i’m staying,’ his glossy eyes don’t falter, the hand that had held your hip coming to rest on your thigh, thumb extending out to rub circles around your throbbing clit causing your mouth to open further against his palm.

‘what? what are you doing in there? can i just come in?’ the door handle rattling as daisy grows impatient. you wouldn’t be surprised if she could hear the filthy sound of your cunt around him, balls slapping against the flesh of your ass.

‘no! no fuck no,’ his hand leaving your mouth to hold the wriggling door knob, keeping it firmly shut as his pace begins to falter, the conversation with his fucking girlfriend working in his favour to stop him coming so prematurely.

you’re forced to bury your face into his neck, soft whines vibrating the skin as your own orgasm fast approaches, the familiar feeling in your stomach growing. his thumb relentlessly circling your clit despite the circumstances.

‘steve wha- why can’t i come in?’ daisy persists, steve’s hand grabbing onto the door in pure frustration.

‘just go,’ he sounded desperate, pleading with her to leave before he came and she most definitely would’ve found out what or who he was actually doing in here.

your fingertips press into the cotton t-shirt on his back, mewling into the stubble on his jaw as you’re brought over the edge. head going dizzy as you clench around him, pleasure overcoming every single one of your limbs. if you hadn’t a death grip on the sink, you were sure you would’ve ended up on the floor.

you can hear daisy huff from outside, but the rattling stops and you hope to god that means she’s finally fucked off. feeling brave enough to let out an audible moan into his neck, just about coming back to earth.

‘cum in me,’ you babble, unsure of where the hell that had come from but still instinctively tightening your legs around his back, keeping him pressed against you as he gives you a few pathetic last thrusts, painting your walls with thick ropes of cum.

the sound out of his mouth is ungodly, thick and husky as his knees buckle, his body collapsing into yours, hot and sweaty, just a complete mess while he regains his strength. mouth open against your cheek, panting and gripping your hips.

craning your neck to press your lips to his, pulling his face to meet yours properly. it’s slow and tender even as his cum drips out of you and onto the grubby bathroom floor.

‘holy shit,’ he breathes into your mouth, feeling the smirk forming against your lips. it’s moments like these that have you questioning if did actually love him or not.

just completely enamoured by the way he looks, so pussy drunk and pupils damn near shaped like hearts as they gazed at you. you think you could. you really could.

he’s still panting for breath when you push him off of you, stumbling backwards into the adjacent wall. drunkenly fumbling with his belt as you hop off of the basin, rubbing the tender skin where the tap had dug into your spine.

‘you go first,’ you nod, tapping his arm, ‘i need to.. clean up,’ trying desperately to hide the smile on your face.

he stops for a moment, flashing that lop-sided smile that had you stumbling over your words. ‘okay.. you want a drink?’ running lazy fingers through his skewed hair, it was useless when everyone in the club would know immediately what had gone down.

you nod, shooing him out of the tiny room before you jumped his bones again. ashamedly pulling your skirt back down to a respectable length. you’re both terrible people, you know that.

and yet, you can’t stop yourself. he’s like an addiction that you’d never be able to rid yourself of. regardless of how many people and how many lives you both fucked up in the process.

you’re just about ready to wake steve up yourself. his snoring had been driving you crazy all night and now it was already afternoon and he was still fast asleep next to you. desperate to interrogate him on the things he’d said last night, his intoxicated confession.

he eventually stirs, so you take the opportunity to nudge his arm, pulling him from his sleep fully. groaning as he comes around, expecting daisy to be the one poking and prodding him.

‘uhh.. wait, what the fuck? what’re you doing here?’ voice groggy and deep as his smile peaking out from the pillow, arm extending out to wrap around your waist.

‘well someone had to make sure you didn’t die last night,’ rolling your eyes but still leaning in to his touch, grateful to no longer be sat listening to his horrific snores.

‘that bad?’ he groans, shoving his face back into the pillow.

‘oh yeah,’ stoic in your expression, ‘you got kicked out.. started screaming at the bouncer and then-,’ he grimaces, loudly groaning. large hand hiding his face from your judgemental eyes.

‘and then, you told nancy you were in love with me so uhh.. i think we’ve been rumbled,’ glaring at him from your position on the other side of the bed, not impressed with his antics.

‘well..’ he shrugs, feeling his fingers begin to toy with the shirt you’d borrowed, ‘was gonna happen sooner or later, wasn’t it?’ lifting his head up, gazing at you from squinted eyes.

‘not love though, steve.’

you can feel him tense up, sniffing as he looks away, ‘i was drunk.. it’s not- it doesn’t mean anything,’ a failed attempt at nonchalance.

‘so you don’t?’ looking at him earnestly, his face still half-hidden in the pillow.

you’d had enough time to reflect on his drunken declaration and quite honestly, you weren’t sure exactly how to feel about it. it wasn’t like it wasn’t pretty obvious that he felt that way towards you, but now that it was actually out there, was there any way for you to continue the odd relationship you shared?

‘i.. does it matter? you’re still gonna fuck me anyway so we should just forget i ever said anything,’ his hand disappears up underneath the t-shirt you’d stolen, his hands cold as they find their way higher, a pathetic attempt to distract you.

‘maybe i won’t.. steve- stop,’ becoming increasingly frustrated with him, ‘tell me.’

he sighs, contemplating his options as his wandering hand halts, ‘okay, and if i say i am in love with you, then what? you’re gonna tell me that it’d never happen and i’ll go back to daisy and then in two months this’ll start again.. it’s stupid,’ his eyes finally meet yours again, ‘i told you, it doesn’t change anything.’

you pause for a moment, studying his face through narrowed eyes. it was fairly obvious that he was trying to just brush this off, and no matter what you said, it wouldn’t make an ounce of difference. he was right though. you could end this today and go your separate ways for a little while but you both knew it wouldn’t last long before you were sneaking off at work and inevitably breaking some other poor girl’s heart.

you swallow, feeling his hand slither from under your shirt, watching as he props himself up against the pillow, already certain how this conversation was going to end.

‘were you telling the truth?’

his eyes close and you’re not sure why but his lips twitch into a tiny smile, ‘yeah,’ running a hand through the mop of hair on his head, already messy from sleep, ‘you knew that though, didn’t you? you know i’d fucking-,’ he exhales through his nose, ‘i’d do anything if you just asked me to,’ his shoulders slumping in defeat.

your heart pounds in your chest, the mere thought of leaving this room, leaving steve for god knows how long felt like the worst possible way for this to end. apprehensive to go any further but still terrified to end this in any other way.

‘you know how i feel about this.. i’m not..’ struggling to find the appropriate words, ‘i don’t know how to be in a relationship, you deserve someone that does.’

this is what you do. pushing away anyone that expresses even a semblance of interest in you. it’s a knack at this point.

he exhales, ‘i’m not asking you to marry me for fuck sake, i just wanna give this a shot and who knows? maybe we’ll get married and have six kids or.. or maybe we’ll end up hating each other but fuck- i wanna try,’ his hand reaches over to sit on top of yours, he’s pleading with you almost.

the bile rises in your throat, you can’t go on for much longer denying the way you felt towards him. it’s scary and you’re not sure if you can even formulate the words needed to tell him but maybe you should try. perhaps you would end up in a loveless marriage or maybe you’d crash and burn immediately. but maybe now you’re willing to try.

you sit like that in the silence for what felt like hours and eventually the only thing you can think of saying was, ‘..what about daisy?’

his eyes roll into the back of his head, groaning at the sheer mention of her name, ‘she’s gone, christ i’ll do it right now,’ his hand fumbles for the phone on his night stand, holding it up in front of your face, ‘tell me and i will.’

your mouth opens but no words come out, his clammy hand squeezing yours in one last hopeless attempt to convince you. watching his normally bright eyes falter as you remain silent.

‘do it.. break up with her,’ nodding as sign of encouragement, still wary of the decision you’d made but deciding that whatever might come from this couldn’t be as bad as being the reason another unsuspecting girl got her heart broke.

‘you’re serious?’

‘yeah,’ breathing out for what felt like the first time this morning, ‘i think we should try.’

and lord knows, if it really did all come tumbling down, that you’d get your karma one day and you couldn’t be mad.

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