#I’m still young and got lots of time ahead

[taestefully-in-luv]

Summer Heat

Summary: You run into your ex Taehyung at a bar and go home with him just to keep hanging out. But perhaps Taehyung wants more. And so do you.

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: exes au, exes to lovers, fluff, smut. 

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, dialogue heavy, communication, fingering, mention of oral, unprotected sex.

Notes: An exes to lovers Taehyung drabble request!!!! sorry it took so long...hope you enjoy anon! (and whoever else hehe)

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“Why did we break up?”

Did he ask that? Or did you? You aren’t sure who asked that. You just know that it’s been asked by one of you. The question floats in the air, the words growing bigger until they pop next to your ear. Your stomach stirs uncomfortably when the words echo a little, and finally, you realize it sounds a lot like your voice. You gulp.

“You don’t know?” Taehyung leans against the door frame, wood creaking before his arms cross over his chest. “If you don’t know then I definitely don’t know.” He suddenly smiles.

You’re wondering how you two ended up in his guest bedroom at his house. How you find yourself sitting on the edge of the bed, a towel neatly folded in your lap as you wait for Taehyung to leave the room so you can shower. You glance at the dresser where his clothes lay on top, ready for you to borrow. Wearing his clothes is… 

“Sorry.” You look down, “I shouldn’t have asked honestly.”

“Why not?” His voice is teasing.

You look up again, “Because we spent the whole night talking about how the past is the past and I don’t know, it just felt nice to hang out. I don’t want to ruin any,” You motion your hands in the space between you, “Like…vibe we got going on.”

Taehyung laughs, his back relaxing more against the wall. “It has been fun, right? Who would have thought I’d run into you tonight.” 

“I can’t believe its six in the morning.” You glance towards the window, a dark blue sky beginning to light up. “Thanks again for letting me crash here.”

“I’m the one who insisted we stay up.” Taehyung stretches his neck, a small smile still on his face. “We had, what was it? 5? 6 years to catch up on?” 

“Something like that.” You smile back, shrugging a little. “Lucky tomorrow is Saturday and we don’t have to work.”

Taehyung gazes at you, the softness in his eyes hard to miss. “I think I would have stayed up no matter the day of the week.”

Your stomach tightens, “Oh yeah?”

“So why did we break up?”

He asks this time. The question now echoing in his voice.

“I don’t know really.” You answer, “We weren’t ready?”

Taehyung separates his back from the door frame, his legs taking him to the end of the bed where he sits next to you. “We were young?”

“And not ready.” You emphasize this time. “Right person, wrong time.”

“So are you going to let me know when it’s the right time?” Taehyung asks you, his voice quieter as he looks ahead. “Because who knows, maybe it’s still right person.” His eyes slide towards you, curiosity sitting in them. 

You can’t help but quietly gasp to yourself, his curious eyes sharpening the more he gazes at you. You’ve been wondering all night. You’ve been wondering if there’s still something between you, especially because something electric has been bringing you closer the past few hours. But you didn’t know if it was your imagination. 

Taehyung’s gaze drops down to your hand that rests against the mattress. His eyes trail up your bare arm and it feels as if his fingertips are grazing your skin. 

“You think we’re still a good match?” You breathe out your words, your eyes falling to Taehyung’s bottom lip. “Or do your interests only lie in getting laid tonight?”

Taehyung’s eyes grow round, shocked at first before he chuckles, “Can it be both?”

You bite back another smile. “Maybe.”

It’s been five and half years since you and Taehyung called things off—well, since you called things off. In your eyes, it really was right person, wrong time. You aren’t sure if Taehyung agreed at that time because you didn’t really give him the chance to. That still stings a little. Probably more for him than you but seeing how lighthearted he’s been all night, you guess he’s over it.

Are you over it?

You kind of have to be.

“I remember you being a really good kisser.” Taehyung’s fingers crawl over to yours, his skin warm as he subtly touches you. 

You bite down onto your bottom lip, another smile forming. “So this is about getting laid tonight.”

“Not at all. But maybe a part of it.” Taehyung taps his fingers before weaving them through yours. Then he pulls back. “But if you don’t want to do anything…”

“Who said that?” You find his dark eyes, “I might just be teasing you.”

“You’ve always loved teasing me.”

“Maybe I still do?”

“So, some things haven’t changed.” He teases back, shaking his dark hair from his eyes. “I wouldn’t mind if some things were still the same. There’s some things I’m hoping are very different though.”

“Like what?” You can’t help but ask, your hand sliding closer to his again. 

“One, I hope you stopped being such a picky eater. And two, you let me have an opinion about us.”

You feel that sting. It shouldn’t be you who feels it but you do. “Us?”

“Yeah.” He hums, his fingers suddenly between yours again. He leans closer to you, “I want to decide things too.”

“Like what?”

“Like,” Taehyung naturally grows closer to you, his body suddenly pushing up against your side when he leans down and presses his lips against your bare shoulder. “If I should be in your life or not.”

You slowly close your eyes when you feel his warm breath before he places a kiss on your shoulder. Then another. And another.

He continues, “Last time, you decided without me. This time I want a say.” Another kiss.

You feel your stomach turn upside down, his lips confusing you while his words make you feel guilty. 

“Taehyung.” You say his name, your voice uncontrollably insecure. “Are we talking about this now?”

Another kiss. “No.”

You open your eyes, your back straightening when you feel his arm wrap around your waist. It feels good and familiar. Yet you aren’t sure how to react.

“Is it crazy to say I’ve missed you?” Taehyung sighs out, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “It is, isn’t it? I shouldn’t have thought about you so much in these last few years.”

“Did you?”

“Yes.”

Your stomach flops again, but this time you feel intrigued. “What did you miss? Me? Or my lips? My mouth? My—”

“—Can’t I say everything?” Taehyung lifts himself, his eyes urging you to look at him. He stays close. “I missed your overthinking too, believe it or not.”

Your lips curl at the thought, his teasing working. “Oh yeah?”

“But I missed your hugs the most. When we hugged earlier…I swear I wanted to give you me right then and there.”

“Your vodka sodas make you chatty, don’t they?”

“Oh yeah.” He chuckles, “You aren’t used to it, right?”

“Considering you didn’t drink when I knew you, no. But it was fun drinking with you tonight.”

“You got kind of chatty too.” Taehyung decides to create space between you both, his body suddenly laying back on the bed. “Never been in love with anyone else since me?” He sounds proud. “Feels like that should have taken longer to admit—”

You hit his thigh with your fist, embarrassment hot on your neck. “Shut up, I didn’t think it was a big deal. Also, it’s the truth and I can’t change it.” 

You’re turned to eye him, but you quickly look away before laying down yourself. You keep your hands together, resting on top of your stomach.

“I’m not sure I’ve really been in love either. Maybe. Maybe not.” Taehyung tells you. “I’ve definitely thought about you over the years though.”

“Like what?”

“Your mouth—”

You hit his thigh again.

He laughs this time, “Okay, okay. Like for example, I saw someone eating skittles a few weeks ago and it reminded me of you. How you eat them all except the purple ones.”

“I still don’t eat the purple ones.”

“Great.” Taehyung huffs out dramatically, “You’re still picky.” He turns his head towards you and you do the same, meeting his eyes. Your stomach flops again when he smirks at you. “Somehow I missed that, too.”

“Liar,” You can’t help but laugh. “You—”

“We still click, you know?” Taehyung cuts you off, his gaze sharp again. “I’d like to hang out again. But not as friends or anything…as…I don’t know,” He turns his head, eyes on the ceiling while he smiles sheepishly. “I want to see if we can make this work. Possibly.”

“Vodka sodas make you so loose-lipped.”

“Thank God, too. I’m saying all the things I want to say so I’m thankful for it.”

“Well….” You turn your body towards him, lifting yourself on you elbow, “What else do you want to say?”

“You’re very pretty. And I want to kiss you.” Taehyung mirrors his body to yours. He looks confident as usual but you see the nerves in his eyes. “I’m not kissing anyone else at the moment, if you’re worried about that.”

“I wasn’t.” You weren’t. 

Taehyung has never been known for being a player, or messing with more than one girl at a time. If he’s showing interest in you then you know you’re the only one.

“I’ve been single for like 8 months already.” He tells you, “So I’m clean, too.” 

“I…yeah, it’s been a little while for me too.” You glance towards the open door, “But also, you sound real hopeful this is going to go in your favor.”

“Please.” He playfully rolls his eyes. “I know the way you’ve been looking at me all night. Catching up has been nice but there’s more going on here, right?”

He’s right.

“No.” 

“Now you’re the liar,” Taehyung smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “But like I said, we don’t have to do anything. But I still want to see you again.”

You’re both sat up on your elbows, the distance small between you before you decide to be brave.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask.

Taehyung blinks at you for a moment, his dark eyes surprised. 

“Just a kiss.” You assure him, your lips curling into a smirk. “One kiss.”

Taehyung holds his breath, seconds that feel like minutes pass. A small laugh finally leaves his mouth and his eyes fall to the bed. “Why am I suddenly nervous?” He admits. “As if I forgot how to kiss.”

“You were so confident earlier?” You tease him but you were positive you saw the nerves in his eyes and you were right. 

“I think the vodka sodas helped and they’ve worn off at this exact moment.”

“How convenient.”

“It really is, isn’t it?” 

You stare at Taehyung, his eyes going from yours to the mattress every few seconds before the strap of your tank top slides off your shoulder and his eyes glue to that extra inch of skin. It was a hot summer night, and a white tank top with some shorts is all the night called for.

You didn’t think you would run into Taehyung at a bar neither of you have been to. A night out with a couple of friends that happily ditched you to catch up with your ex. 

“Why did we break up for real, y/n?” Taehyung’s eyes are back on yours. “I know but sometimes I doubt and question it.” 

“Still?” 

“You expect me not to?” He laughs a little but his voice is now the one that sounds uncontrollably insecure. “I was in love with you for so many years of my life. You were my best friend…”

You feel a sharp poke in your heart. 

“I know.” You decide to sit up, your body slumping over a little. “I’m sorry.”

And you are. You’ve wanted to apologize for years. 

“I know you’ve been sorry since the day we broke up.” Taehyung sits up too, his side pushed up against yours. Suddenly space isn’t necessary. “Don’t feel bad. I just want to hear you confirm your reason.”

You glance at Taehyung, eyes studying him. “I got scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“That I didn’t know myself yet. That it would have been better if we were older…more mature. I should have just talked to you. But I thought you’d agree. I just…” You stop, ripping your eyes away from him. “Wanted to make it easier for both of us at that time.”

“Okay.” Taehyung nods to himself. “It wasn’t because you stopped loving me?”

“No.” You don’t find the courage to look at him yet. “I still loved you.”

Taehyung bumps into your shoulder with his and you hear the lightness in his voice again. “We’re older? More mature? You think we could look at one another the way we did before?”

You straighten your back again. “You really want to try this again?”

“I really want to kiss you at the least.” He sounds teasing once more. “But yeah, I’d love to continue getting to know you and see where this might lead.”

“I offered to kiss you already but you chickened out.” You bump into his shoulder now. 

“I know.” He laughs, “But turns out I did want to have the conversation now. Kind of want to kiss you even more now because of it.”

“Then kiss me now, if you want.”

You’re older now. More mature now.

Yet you’re sitting shoulder to shoulder, towel still folded in your lap, eyes on the floor and nerves surrounding you both.

Taehyung’s breath leaves his mouth in a warm puff and you feel it glide over your bare thighs. His nerves make you brave. You grasp the towel in your hands before placing it next to you and you turn your head towards the man you used to love. 

He mirrors you, eyes still unsure. 

“You’re cute.” You murmur. “And—”

Taehyung leans in closer, his eyes stuck on your lips. “It’s okay, right?”

You nod.

The warm breath you felt on your thighs now lingers over your lips. It makes you stop breathing.

He comes closer, his hand softly landing on your lower back, fingers slowly digging into your tank top as he grows closer and finally, you feel the skin of his lips touch yours in a kiss that becomes firmer the longer he stays. His kiss is so familiar that it will haunt you later. 

Taehyung detaches for only a moment, catching his breath before he leans in again more confidently and you finally give him a response. Your lips slowly moving over his as you kiss him back, your hands sliding up his chest. So familiar. His tongue pokes out and you open your mouth just the slightest to grant his wish. You taste him now, and it’s also hauntingly familiar.

You feel your lower belly swirling and swirling, a tension growing between your legs and it makes you ache. You wish a few kisses didn’t make you this desperate already but when Taehyung feels your fingers slide up into his hair, he knows you desire more. 

His tongue explores more freely and you moan into his mouth, the sound quiet and soft but it creates a stirring in Taehyung’s pants. He can feel himself grow harder. So, he kisses you harder. 

You break away for a moment, lips wet and tingly. “You have a condom?”

“Already?” He asks, breathless. “Let me at least eat you out first.”

“I haven’t showered yet.” Your eyes slide to the side, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“I don’t care.” 

“I care.”

His hands go to your shorts, fingers fiddling with the button. “Fingers?”

You think about it for a second, thighs squeezing together at the idea. “Okay.”

And his fingers are quick to undo the button on your shorts, and he pulls down the zipper. You quickly wiggle out of them, kicking them off of you, while they land somewhere on the floor.

“Cute underwear.” He tickles the skin above the band with his fingers, before they slide lower and you gasp. He begins rubbing them over where you ache. Your panties grow damper and damper, making it easy for him to move your underwear to the side, and his fingers dive into your wetness. 

“Ah, Taehyung…” You become tense. Teeth digging into your bottom lip. “I—”

His fingers swirl over your clit, making you sigh out in content. They play here before he uses his middle finger to dive where you really want him. Finger massaging your entrance, before he adds another. Entering you, making you immediately relax once the moment you’ve been anticipating is over. He works to stretch you out, his eyes focused on yours, his tongue wetting his lips as he watches how you start to fall into a daze.

His fingers feel so good. They’re long and reaching the right places. He curls them, making you whine, head falling to his shoulder and he chuckles.

“Feel good?” He whispers, fingers working harder and all you hear is how they fuck into you.

You nod against his shoulder, a breathy laugh leaving your lips. 

“I want you…” You admit, “Now.”

His fingers stop moving, his head suddenly nodding quickly and he slides them out. “Yeah.”

Taehyung brings his fingers to his mouth, licking them proudly and you don’t have it in you to tell him to stop. He wanted your familiar flavor. So, it can haunt him later too. 

You stand, eyes on him as you take your tank top off. He stands too, helping you take off your bra and his eyes are glued to your chest, clouding over with lust. You reach for the bottom of his shirt and he helps you take it off his body. Shorts and boxers are next. You stare at his cock, the head of it throbbing and you feel your mouth water. Another time, you tell yourself. 

You finally slip off your underwear and you stand here, gazing at one another and you both become dizzy. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He tells you, hands reaching for your hips and he guides you to the bed again, laying you down. “I’ll show you what you’ve been missing.”

“Me too.” You tell him, breathless and heated. 

Taehyung crawls over your body and you feel how he moves his cock to enter you, moving slowly until he’s snug between your legs. You both sigh. Your walls tightening around him. He feels so good. And so familiar. He pushes himself further into you, your legs wrapping around his waist until you gasp to yourself, eyes shutting in contentment. 

“You feel…” You can’t finish your sentence.

“Yeah.” He agrees, sliding out of you before thrusting back in. He repeats this motion a few, slow times. Letting his cock get soaked and pulled into your sweet core. He can’t remember the last time he felt this entranced. Maybe it was with you. 

He starts fucking into you, the repeated motions are smooth and calculated. He’s trying his best to fuck you at the angle that is going to make you whimper. And he finally finds it. He moans into your neck, his hot breath making your skin moist. He starts kissing your throat. 

You feel yourself growing tighter and tighter the more he firmly pushes in. You’re going to cum. 

Taehyung starts thrusting faster, his kisses growing sloppy and he forces himself to slow down, his body trembling above yours. Oh, he’s really close.

“You’re so pretty…” He moans, his thrusts getting harder. “I fucking missed you, your pussy…everything.”

“Taehyung…” You wrap your arms around him, nails clawing at his back. “Fuck, just like that…I’ll cum.”

“Yeah. I know.” He smirks against your neck before he lifts his head and locks eyes with you. “Let’s cum together, y/n. Fuck,” His pace grows faster and you feel your insides crumble. He feels too good. 

“I’m gonna—” You choke on air when he thrusts particularly hard, pushing into you so deep it makes your stomach tighten. He fucks you so deep you wonder how you could go without this any longer. 

“y/n.” He chants your name, head falling into your neck again, whining against your skin and that’s all it takes for the band inside you to snap. You feel warmth gushing around his cock, dribbling out of you as you cum all around him and his hips thrust forward a few more times before he releases every drop of cum he can offer inside you. 

Your body becomes limp, legs falling from his waist as you catch your breath, silently laughing as the euphoria continues to overtake you. Taehyung laughs too, breathing heavily above you, his eyes shining with happiness. You can’t miss it. 

“We forgot the condom.” He tells you.

“I know.” You bite your lip, hiding another smile. You aren’t worried since you’re on birth control. “Maybe you can shower with me?”

He leans down to kiss you, smile all over his face. “Okay, and then I’m eating you out.”

#bts #bts smut #Kim taehyung #taehyung fluff #taehyung smut #bts fics #taehyung fic #Drabble requests #taehyung x reader #taehyung drabble #bts drabble

[fieldofdaisiies]

Scars Like Mine pt. 2

paring: Azriel x Reader | type: fluff | words: 1,6k | warnings: none. playlist: hurts | scars to your beautiful | beauty marks | stronger | fly with me finally part 2 is here, I am sorry for the long wait; part 1 (how Azriel meets Elia and her mother)

“Are we going flying now?” Elia bounces up and down on her chair, then gulps down the rest of her hot cocoa in one big sip. She taps her fingers onto the wooden table, her gaze ping-ponging between Azriel and you.

You reach for your daughter’s hand, trying to calm her a little while throwing Azriel an apologetic look, but he only smiles politely. “Azriel has just arrived here, my love, give him a little break and let him enjoy breakfast with us.”

It has become a natural thing for the three of you. Azriel has come here often in the past months, at least two times a week, to have breakfast with you and then go flying with Elia. Maybe on one or the other occasion, unbeknownst to your daughter, Azriel already arrived the evening before and spent the night with you. Yes, yes, it is true. The two of you have started dating a while ago and you couldn’t be happier. 

Elia knows that you are dating, knows that her mummy is suddenly a lot happier, and her days are brighter. Elia loves this, loves to see her mother smile and laugh so much, and loves to have Azriel here to fly with her. He is great at flying and can teach her so many things. She has already learned how to do a turn, a twist and fly a spiral. 

It gives you small heart attacks whenever you see those stunts, but you know that with Azriel, and him always being close to her, she is safe and nothing can happen to her, or will ever happen to her. 

“It is fine,” Azriel says, “I’m almost done anyway.” He takes a sip from his water, before gulping down the whole glass and rising from his chair. Your gaze follows him, the outline of his strong, solid body, and you pull your lower lip between your lips when memories of the other night fill your mind. It is insane and should be forbidden what his wicked mouth and his hands can do, and you wonder how you got so lucky to have met him. 

Not only for yourself. He is not only a god in the sheets. Azriel is everything you have ever hoped for in a male. Kind, caring, charming, wonderful, smart, and he loves your daughter and treats her with so much kindness and fatherly-love (even though she is not his daughter) your heart wants to cry. You have cried on many occasions already, not believing that you actually got so lucky to finally have this amazing male in your life. 

Azriel reaches out his hand when Elia jumps up from her chair and starts punching the air. He brushes his scarred hand over your head and smiles when he meets your gaze. “We’ll be careful, I promise.”

“I know,” you smile up at him and place your hand atop his, thumb stroking his marred skin. “I trust you.” You rise as well, and kiss him on his cheek and then pull your daughter into your arms, squeezing her tightly while plastering her face with kisses. “I also trust you, no crazy stunts or twists or spins,” you tell her, knowing it is useless anyway. 

In the corner of your eye you catch Azriel grinning at her, knowing that they plan on doing stunts and crazy twists and turns, but if it brings her joy, you would never forbid it. She will be fine you, you know it. 

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

“I am flying!” Elia blazes ahead of Azriel, throws him a big grin over her shoulder. She is now onto her third spin in a row, Azriel always close to her in order to catch her if she threatens to fall. She has turned into a great flyer, but Azriel doesn’t fully trust her abilities yet. She is still very young, the muscles in her wings not yet so strong. 

She is so fast, and her laughter so radiant it fills Azriel with pure bliss. Seeing her happy, it is so good and knowing how happy her happiness makes you, is all Azriel needs in life. The two of you have made his life so much better – in you he has found a family, one that resembles the one his brothers have and he couldn’t be any happier. 

“Look!” Elia hollers and Azriel grins brightly. 

“So amazing, Elia!” he shouts to her over the rising wind, showing her thumbs up. She makes another spin and now even Azriel’s stomach dips. She catches herself and blazes away once again. She twirls around Azriel when she changes direction. And then…

Out of the blue, words leave her mouth that nearly make Azriel lose balance, that nearly throw him off his wings and make him slam to the ground.

“Look, dad, I am flying like a bird. I am weightless and free” She makes another twirl, one big swirl around Azriel, grinning from one ear to the other, fully oblivious to what she has just said.

For a few months, he has flown with Elia, many times, more than he can count on both hands, but never has she called him anything but Azriel before. It is hard to catch himself now. Although he never admitted it, he has always hoped for a little family of his own and children. And now…now this might truly become reality. 

The rest of the flying session passes too quickly, Azriel is unfocused, distracted but always careful so nothing happens to your daughter, but his thoughts stray, and he finds himself imagining a future where the three of you are truly a family – you and him married, and Elia calling him dad on a daily basis. It is a beautiful dream, so beautiful tears start to burn behind his eyes when he catches Elia in his arms and helps her lower herself to the ground. 

She inhales deeply, then tucks in her wings. “I need to tell mummy about flying today, come come!” She tugs at Azriel’s hand, already setting out for your hut, dragging him along with her. 

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

You brush the wet sponge over his back, and softly move on to his left wing, careful not to touch the sensitive parts. Leaning in, you kiss the nape of his neck, then carry on to help him wash his back. Elia is already fast asleep, after telling you everything about the flying session while you ate dinner. It was wonderful to listen to her, and you couldn’t stop smiling when she recounted all the swirls and twirls she made and how much joy flying brings her. 

The only thing that confused you, how absentminded Azriel seemed during dinner. He hardly added any comments, normally he loved talking about flying with Elia, this time he kept calm, was mostly distracted and you really hope he will open up what has been going on within him. 

It is almost as if he can read your mind, because only a moment after you finish your thought, he says, in a voice full of emotion, “Elia called me dad today.”

You stop. Everything stops. Your hand folds over your mouth, to keep the gasp that threatens to escape contained. Tears start to build up in your eyes and then the sponge drops into the water. “Are you–is it–I hope–”

“I didn’t mind,” Azriel answers quickly, having noticed your sudden tension. He turns in the tub, tucking in his wings so he can look up at you. “Actually…” He inhales a deep breath and his eyes close. “I actually appreciated it a lot, and didn’t mind at all. I liked it,” he sheepishly admits. “I have always wanted children, and being with you and having Elia in my life as well has brought me more joy than anything else in my life before. I couldn’t be happier and her calling me dad…it felt so right.”

“It is alright for you?” you ask, carefully.

“Of course!” Azriel turns even more in the tub and places his hand on your knee. “Is it alright for you? She has a father after all and he–”

“He was an asshole and I never ever want her to have anything to do with him. You are the best thing that could happen to her, and I love that she has probably realised that as well. She has never asked for her father, she knows that he has caused us this pain, that her body is marred from fire because of his doings.” 

You swallow around the lump in your throat and tears roll down your cheeks. “I couldn’t have hoped for a better father substitute than you. You are everything I could have ever asked for and she loves you.”

“And I love you, and our little…”

“Family,” you finish for him, cradling his face in your hands and kissing his lips softly.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

At first you hear a door open. Azriel is deep asleep, he doesn’t hear it and also not the soft padding of feet over the ground. The bed dips on your side, and you reach out your arms, lifting your daughter into the bed. “Can I sleep here tonight?” 

You kiss her brow. “Of course, my love.”

You help her crawl over your, so she can get comfortable between you and Azriel, snuggling up to your side, her face buried in the crook of your neck. Azriel stirs awake, but not completely, he mumbles a few incomprehensible words and then simply curls his arm around the both of you, inhaling deeply before falling right back asleep. 

You have to smile to yourself, your heart so full of love and bliss, it nearly bursts out of your chest. And the smile stays on your lips when you fall asleep, the two most important people close to you, in your arms and you know that everything is alright and a bright future is ahead of you. 

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii@nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @azriels-mate2 @callmeblaire @lilah-asteria

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar #acosf

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 9

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

After the tense morning, you don't speak to Walter again that day. Or the next. When he arrives, he stays outside with his thermos of coffee and waits for Timothy. At the end of the day, he gives your brother an excuse about chores at home. Maybe not an excuse. He has been spending a lot of time around here.

Nearly a week after it happened, after everything changed, your mother appears in the kitchen with a crease in her forehead. You offer her a cup off coffee as she rubs her eyes. She yawns and and shakes her head.

“We'll grab a cup at the hospital,” she says, “you're father has a check-up. Timmy's taking us.”

“Oh?” You pour yourself a mug and lean on the counter, “I forgot.”

“Lots going on,” she sighs, “can't blame you for being distracted.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” you shrug.

“I called Walter, left a message,” she checks the clock hung above the door, “wouldn't be too bad if he did swing by, huh?”

“Hopefully he doesn't waste the time,” you grumble.

“Honey,” she chides playfully, “you know, I think your dad would approve… if he could. He always liked Walter.”

“Mom,” you frown, “please, I have enough to worry about.”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” she whines, “I'm just… looking for a little sunshine through the clouds.”

You wince, a pang of guilt between your ribs, “I'm sorry, mom, I just… Walter's nice. He helps so much and I think… I think maybe it's too much.”

“Don't I know it.  He is so generous. I gave him some money and I found the envelope in my purse,” she tuts, “you could do much worse. He… he could take care of you.”

You exhale, “mom.”

“Just listen,” her tone turns dire and her eyes gleam, “your pa can't. He's not gonna be able to ever again. I already know what the doc's gonna day and you shouldn't fool yourself. Walter won't help forever, not for no good reason. And next year, your pa won't be back on his tractor…” she sniffles and dabs her nose, “those days are behind us.”

“Ma, you don't know–”

“I do,” she utters solemnly, “I see the man I married but he's hollow. He's… a shell, honey. He's there but he's not really.”

“Oh, ma–”

“I'm just saying… we need to weigh our options. I'll look into selling if we gotta and Timmy, maybe he can go work with Walt–”

“Aren't you getting ahead of yourself?” You cross an arm around your middle.

“We shoulda been talking about this a week ago,” she shakes her head.

“Well, I can apply at the grocer or–”

“You do that,” she says, “but you think real hard. You got options,” she steps closer and cups your cheeks, “you're a pretty young thing. That doesn't last forever.”

You don't say a word as her greyness seeps into you. She draws away and you bow your head. You wait for her to go as you stare into the black depths of the coffee. You take a sip to try to chase away the ice in your veins but it only sends a shiver through you.

🌾

Your parents go off with Timmy in the truck. You set to sweeping the porch to keep yourself busy. Your mother's words ring in your ears. She can't be serious, there's more out there than the farm. Pa always said as much and you don't think he meant Walter.

As you get to the steps, the distant rumble of an engine rolls over the ground. You turn as gravel grits under treads and Walter's large truck lazily rocks along the bumpy road. You still the straw broom and grip the handle as he pulls up. Did he not get your mother's message?

He lingers in the truck as you squint against the sunlight. His door pops open and he jumps down, sending up a cloud of dust. He goes around the bed of the truck and opens the back.

He slides out a sheet of wood and drags it towards you. You watch in confusion as he stops and leans it against the side of the porch. His eyes meet yours and his brows furrow.

“Morning,” he checks his watch, “barely.”

“Morning, Mr. Marshall,” you eke out.”

His eyes flash and he nods. He turns and marches back to the truck, pulling out several planks before carrying them over. You watch him as you lean on the broom.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

He stops and looks up at you. He points to your feet and flicks his finger up, “building a ramp. For your dad.”

You look down at your slips flecked in dirt and stray strands of straw, “oh? Didn't ma call–”

“She didn't ask,” he says bluntly. 

Your lips slant and you tilt your head, “that's real nice.”

“Yeah well, I'm a nice guy,” he huffs and spins on the heel of his boots, stomping away once more.

He goes back to the truck and retrieves his toolbox. His agitation roils off his tense shoulders and the stone set in his jaw. You're too afraid to ask but you do need to. He has been avoiding you.

“Well, I'll stay out of your way,” you lift the broom and back up the stairs. “If you need anything–”

“Not in the way,” he says curtly as he takes out a measuring tape.

“Oh, I know but I wouldn't wanna bother–”

“I don't mind,” he shrugs as he steps onto the stairs and measures the angle over them.

“Right, of course, do you need anything? A glass of water or–”

“Seems like I'm the one bothering,” he stands and lets the tape retract harshly.

“No?” You bat your lashes at him, “I didn't say that, Mr.--”

“Walt,” he growls, “you know what I like best in a woman. Honesty. So why don't you be honest and tell me what you really feel?”

“I…” you gulp, “Walter, er, Walt, I… I'm just… confused.”

“Don't act like a child. We both know you're not,” he crosses his arms over his broad chest. You've seen him angry before but it's never been aimed at you. 

“I… I don't know what to say. I'm sorry.”

“Sorry. Okay,” he shakes his head and unfolds his arms, going back to measuring, “I'm open to talking when you wanna be an adult.”

You flinch as you watch him. He grits his teeth, ignoring your presence as he focuses on his work. You turn, hiding the hurt deep in your chest. You never meant to hurt him but you really don't know. As much as you try to wade through your feelings, you only feel as if you're drowning in them.

#walter marshall #dark walter marshall #dark!walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #drabble #night hunter #the farmer's daughter #series #au #backwoods au

[butchkelev]

Hello, I bounce between two names but typically go by Will online! I post lewds, code on neocities, take other photographs, and read often. I am using this post to talk about attempts at raising funds for long-needed top surgery, and the gfm I use to host it. I’m a trans stone butch, and I have been publicly iding as a trans man since 2018. Since puberty (2015?) however, I have been desperate to get rid of two glaring, physically heavy boulders on my chest. I am a full-time blue-collar worker at a commercial paint store, and since we lift hundreds to thousands of five gallon buckets (60-100 pounds each) every day, I cannot safely bind on or off the job as I need to rest. Even sports bras bind too harshly due to my size, and when wearing one I cannot take in a full breath. Sizing up is not an option, as my breasts are severely saggy and inhibit my mobility at work (and mental power out of dysphoria) as they move. I work an eight and a half hour shift every weekday and drive half an hour to and from my job- that’s at least 9.5 hours of (light?) binding every weekday, and every weekend usually adds 4-6. I have been binding (properly, I swear, as this 9.5/5 in wage labor thing started seven months ago) from such a young age that my breasts are abnormally saggy for their size and have already lost most sensation. There is no way to get that back (I do not want it back), but there is a way to give me strength and confidence and tame dysphoria, and that’s of course a double mastectomy, or top surgery. All the money I earn at my full-time job needs to be saved for my run from southern Florida, and as such I cannot afford to save for gender-affirming surgery whatsoever. I have a gofundme here, which is the only place I currently take donations.

If any of my photo sets have got you going, I seriously urge you to tip me (and, while you’re at it, swers on this site that you dig) the only way I have set up and help me live a fuller life. I have not hidden my work behind a paywall, as I doubt it would’ve worked anyway, but this funding is the top motivator of why I post at all while I still have breasts. So, if you’re into any of it, let’s keep this shit going!

If you want a gift, I have NSFW offerings below the cut.

Thank you dearly for considering helping, and sincerest biggest most insane thank you to anybody who has pitched any amount to me—it lights up my world, really, and I cannot thank y’all enough. ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

Alright, you want more… fair enough!

I cannot do videos or self penetration in any hole. I can, however, show hole in photo sets tailored to your descriptions and desires. Each “set” is three photos each, and may include extras for no charge; only three are guaranteed per concept. Any donation at or above 8$ and proof of an email receipt gets you a slot (equals three photos or one “concept”). You can talk to me about details before or after one is placed, though I suggest before if you know ahead of time that you want this, because if you make a donation but I cannot fulfill your request, I cannot refund you. What I need to know is:

-vibe, concept, other synonyms? you can even be abstract, though I’ll likely ask more clarifying questions -what am I wearing? glasses, nothing, nothing but a collar, full clothes, etc., go nuts (browse existing photos to get an idea of what I have; I cannot afford to buy new objects or clothes) -are there any parts of my body* you want me to focus on? -subby or dom(ish)? pup-oriented? -any camera, only Nikon (denim sets on my profile were shot with such), only iphone?

These photos will be yours and yours alone, and thus will not ever be posted to butchkelev for other eyes, unless you would like me to do so** with direct credit for concept and funding.

*I know a lot of you really, really get off on the exact breasts I have been so long hellbent on ditching. If you want to see a photo, one photo, of my boobs without them being pinned down or hidden, I charge 30$. Any additional photo is also 30$. I will not take these photos lazily, and they will be quality, but my breasts, big as they are, are not picturesque (sagged to the point of mutilation), so proceed with caution and seriously curb your fantasies. If I send you a nude including my uncovered chest, you are NOT allowed to respond with any positive comment on them. I keep take the cash and block you. I know bodies are neutral, but from strangers or mutuals or partners, I refuse to take any “compliment” on what I desperately need to destroy. It is extremely disrespectful and not at all gentle or kind to me. **I will not share any photos of me with an uncovered chest on my account no matter what.

Anyway :,) Thank you for anything and everything!

#trans nsft #butch nsft #queer nsft #dyke nsft #trans butch #butch bottom #bd/sm community #t4t nsft #t4t lesbian #t4t ns/fw #t4t puppy #t4t yearning #trans t4t #trans male #nonbinary #transfag #transsexual #trans puppy #trans pup #butch dyke #butch4butch #butch4femme #dykeposting #butch pup #butch posting #stone butch #demisexual #nsf/w #nsft #minors dni

[five-and-dimes]

I have no idea where this came from but I’m never going to turn it into a full fic so I’m releasing it into the void.

Dream is some sort of fae creature whose son died, so he sneaks into a mortal village and kidnaps a young boy around the same age his son was.

(Part of his heart hurts because he never took part in the traditional changeling child/fae kidnapping thing because he couldn’t bear to leave his son with some stranger, he loved him too much, and he knows deep down he shouldn’t do this to someone else but he’s desperate for something, anything, to dull the pain of his loss).

When single dad Hob wakes up and finds his son Robyn missing, he’s fully prepared to go scorched earth to find him. When it becomes clear he’s not in the village, he going charging alone into the woods, too impatient to put a party together to help him. (He’s terrified- he’s heard rumors of fae in these parts, but there was no child left behind. What could have taken his little boy?)

After a few days searching, he hears Robyn’s voice up ahead. He’s got a sword at his side, but for now he draws a bow and arrow, moving forward slowly. Eventually he comes to a clearing, peeking forward and preparing to shoot down whatever took his child. But then. He pauses. 

Robyn is smiling, and laughing, and has an abundance of flowers adorning his hair. He is plucking some berries from a bush and popping them into his mouth under the guidance of the most beautiful creature Hob’s ever seen. As he listens, he realizes that Robyn is talking about him, telling stories of how his papa taught him to identify the things that are safe to eat in the forest, and how tall he feels when he sits on his father’s shoulders, and how his papa has a terrible singing voice but sings the loudest anyway and so Robyn loves it. 

“I think papa will like you lots!” Robyn declares, and the creature smiles sadly.

“I… doubt that… but he sounds lovely.”

Hob is so confused by the whole situation that he doesn’t notice he’s taken a step forward until a branch snaps under his foot. Robyn looks over and immediately bursts into a wide smile, even as the creature lets out a panicked series of chirps and bolts in the other direction.

“Papa!!” 

Robyn throws himself into his father’s arms, and Hob drops his weapons to hold him, beyond relieved to have his son safe in his arms, unharmed. He spends a few minutes just peppering his son’s face with kisses and telling him how worried he was before finally looking at the spot where the creature had disappeared into the woods. Robyn follows his gaze, smiling and tugging on Hob’s hand to guide him into the clearing as he calls out.

“It’s okay, Dream! Papa is super nice to everyone, you don’t have to hide!”

Hob’s sees two bright eyes in the shadows before the creature- Dream- hesitantly steps forward. He looks sad and scared and ashamed and Hob is smitten almost immediately.

Robyn explains that when he woke up he had been scared, but Dream had hugged him (almost as good as his papa’s hugs, he claims) and told him he would keep him safe and take care of him. Then Robyn had been sad because he already missed his dad, and when he told Dream about him he had immediately realized the error of what he had done and resolved to return Robyn. It had taken some time because Robyn had insisted he was too big to be carried (it’s one thing if he was sleeping, but he was a big boy he could walk home just fine, really!) so they had traveled together, Dream never feeding him anything that would bind Robyn to him, instead just pointing out food and water for him to gather himself. 

Dream is still standing a bit aways from them both as Robyn tells the tale, looking at the little boy with aching fondness.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly to Hob, “I just... miss my son so much,” he smiles weakly at Robyn, “I believe you and Orpheus would have been great friends.”

And oh, Hob gets it all of a sudden. He had been fully prepared to do all sorts of questionable things to get his son back, he can’t imagine what he might be compelled to do if he actually lost him. And Dream was bringing him back, so he finds it very easy to forgive him.

He finds it even easier to invite Dream to finish the journey back with them, and then invite him to stay, and then invite him to build a home in the woods together, and share kisses and a bed and a life. 

Robyn is very smug.

He told Dream his dad would like him.

#Dream can have a step-son AND a husband. As a treat. #the sandman #dreamling #my writing #fae au #I guess #I like this idea but I REFUSE to add anything to my wip list

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

Run!

John Egan X Pilot! Reader

Summary: Buck, Bucky and Beca (Y/n's nickname) are marching, endlessly, until an escape possibility comes...

Warning: Swearing/ violence/ mention of dying/ use of Y/n/

Word count: 1.02k

They’ve been walking for a lot of time. Buck, Bucky and Beca were angry. Y/n ‘Beca’ Armstrong was a W.A.S.P, she had been transferred to the 100th after Regensburg, but she went down at the same time as Bucky. Her feet were giving up, she was exhausted. ‘’We have to get away, like fucking soon’’ she shivered. They looked at her, even if they couldn’t really see her from the snow, the wind and the fact that they were marching at night. ‘’Yeah, but be patient’’ Buck started. ‘’No, we need to do it now!’’ Bucky exclaimed, like Y/n, he was tired, and couldn’t wait to get the hell out of the Goon’s care. ‘’Hey, 3 B’s stop talking!’’ One of the German soldiers yelled, the 3 B were the nickname they got from the Goons.

Suddenly, they heard a motor sound, it sounded like a plane. ‘’That’s a P-51!’’ One man exclaimed. The soldiers were smiling, but their smile quickly faded when they saw that the plane was coming their way, in a non-friendly way. ‘’Get on the ground!’’ One kraut yelled. As they got on the ground, the P-51 opened fire, Y/n looked at the plane; it was American. Men that didn’t have time to hide were killed, they killed 6 guys. She was fuming, her and other guys already told Germans to stop the marching at night, and now 6 guys died to the fire of their own people. When the plane went away, Y/n practically ran to the German commander, she didn’t care if she was going to get shot, she was furious. She came close to the commander’s face. ‘’What the fuck is wrong with you?! We told you to stop making us march at night! - ‘’ When Bucky and Buck saw Y/n yelling at the commander, they ran to get to her. ‘’ – Now 6 of us died! We’re getting attacked by our own goddamn planes! The fuck is wrong with you!’’ Buck grabbed her left arm and Bucky her right. ‘’Let go of me! 6 OF US DIED!’’ ‘’Calm the fuck down!’’ Bucky exclaimed. Y/n tried to fight the guy’s grip on her, but Bucky grabbed her by the shoulders. ‘’Look at me! Y/n!’’ he said, trying to keep his voice down, but still loud enough to make her come back to her sense. He shook her a little bit. ‘’Beca, we’re in!’’ Buck whispered. The woman calmed down and looked at the men in front of her. ‘’We’re going to try to escape, Alexender said that there was a forest at the next village. That’s our chance to get away’’ Bucky whispered.

When they arrived at the village, Y/n was nervous, but she was determined to escape. She couldn’t take it anymore, she had to get away. Men ran around, creating chaos, the small group of Rebels that formed during the march got together. ‘’Let’s go over that wall’’ Buck suggested. ‘’Let’s go one at the time’’ Y/n said. Two men went first, without any fuss. It was Buck’s turn. ‘’We’re right behind you, go’’ Bucky said. A few seconds after Buck left, Bucky and Beca made their way to the wall, the only thing they didn’t notice was that a young German soldier saw them. ‘’HEY, STOP’’ he ordered, making Y/n and Bucky turn. Buck was in the process of going over the wall, the young boy was about to shoot. ‘’No don’t shoot!’’ Bucky yelled, jumping on the boy to prevent him to shoot. ‘’Buck! GO’’ Y/n exclaimed. ‘’Y/n go with him!’’ Bucky yelled. ‘’I’m not leaving you! I’m staying here!’’ she yelled as she came to help Bucky with the gun. As Buck went over the wall, soldiers arrested the two B remaining, hitting them in the stomach as they did. ‘’What’s going on?’’ Colonel Clark asked as he saw Y/n and Bucky about to get shot. ‘’5 of them tried to escape, 3 succeeded.’’ A German soldier explained. Other P.O.W were gathering up, ready to fight if they hurt them. ‘’Go ahead, shoot us. You’ll have a fucking riot’’ Y/n taunted. ‘’Don’t give them ideas’’ Bucky mumbled. Colonel Clark agreed with the woman. ‘’You really want an uprising’’ he asked the general.

When they entered the new camp, Y/n felt a bad sense of Déjà-vu. P.O.W that were already there gathered around the fences and called out for possible compatriots. But there was non from the 100th. ‘’Yeah, just another fucking day in a prisoner’s camp. Love my life’’ Y/n said sarcastically. ‘’Fuck our life’’ Bucky added. They smiled to each other as they continued to walk until they reached their bungalow. ‘’It’s cozy’’ Y/n did. She couldn’t care less if she was being a bitch, she was tired and didn’t gave a flying fuck if she died. ‘’As cozy as a suit at the Ritz’’ Bucky laughed. Y/n chuckled as she claimed her bed.

‘’Do you think Buck made it back?’’ She whispered; she didn’t want to wake the others. ‘’I think so, it’s Buck! Plus, he has to get married’’ Buck whispered back. ‘’Yeah, with Marge’’ they both said her name, with a teasing tone. They chuckle. ‘’Why didn’t you go over the wall?’’ Bucky asks. Y/n turned to look at him, taking a deep breath before answering. ‘’Because I couldn’t leave you alone, not again. I care about you too much’’ she whispered, tearing up a little bit. When they both got shot down, they were separated and only got reunited at the first camp, she went through the process of getting captured, interviewed and transferred alone. They’d promised to each other that they would never be alone, but they got separated. Bucky sighed; it was painful for him to think about the horrible time when they weren’t together. He took her hand, kissing the top of it. ‘’I care about you too’’ he breathed out.

They care about the other too much. They were both ready to die for each other, step in front of a German gun and take a bullet for the other. They were in love, they just didn’t realised it yet.

#callum turner #callum turner x reader #callum turner imagine #master of the air #john egan x reader #master of the air imagine #major john egan #john egan

[zenxvii]

character: go kyung-jun x fem!reader

kdrama: night has come

!!: thoughts are in italics

🫶🏻: childhood friends, protective go kyung-jun, friends to lovers

-

-

y/n had just got out of her room walking around the halls. She wanted to get out of this hellhole as soon as se could, she couldn’t bear to see anymore of her classmates die.

Passing by rooms she knew where se exactly wanted to go. She had walked towards the cafe in the building not knowing all the trouble inside it.

- y/n pov

I had wandered through the halls and got closer to to the cafe. I heard lots of voices from there so I quickened my steps. There was lot of people standing there and in the middle there was Hyun-Ho fighting with Kyung-Jun.

“What the fuck is going on.” I whispered to myself noticing it didn’t catch anyones ears.

Kyung-Jun had roughly pushed Hyun-Ho and he slammed against the wall. “Alright! Isn’t this enough now!” I said strongly and went to push Kyung-Jun away from the other man.

“You stay here.” I told him and went to help Hyun-Ho up. “You okay?” I asked him as I helped him up. He nodded at me and gave me a smile.

I could feel Kyung-Juns burning a hole onto me head, but I didn’t mind it. “I don’t get it. Why do you guys have to fight at a time like this.” I breathed out and shook my head.

“y/n’s right.” Our class president agreed with me. “We should go now.” He continued and mentioned that we should go downstairs and meet everyone in there.

I watched them leave and Kyung-Jun slumped on a chair and kicked the table. I sighed and exited the cafe and went to a girls bathroom to look for a medkit.

Once I returned to the cafe I saw Jin-ha and Seung-Bin also sitting around the table. “You idiots.” I said and their gazes turned to me. I sat on a chair next to Kyung-Jun and gently pulled his chin between my fingers.

“Why do you start fights.” I asked him and started to clean his wounds. He didn’t answer but hissed each time the wound pained him. I just sighed and cleaned his wounds.

After cleaning his wounds I turned to Jin-Ha who was on next chair next to me. “Head this way.” I told him and he turned his head to me. I started to clean his wounds but then someone yanked my hand back.

“He can clean his own wounds.” Kyung-Jun told me but I didn’t listen and yanked my hand back. “Don’t get in my nerves now. I bet you guy started the fight but let me help out a little.” I said and turned my attention back to Jin-ha.

I don’t get why was Kyung-Jun like this. When we were young he wasn’t violent he was kind. I miss the old him who wouldn’t just throw fists around. But I do love this Kyung-Jun, he treats me well. I’ve tried to told him to stop fighting but he still hasn’t, maybe someday.

Kyung-Jun had stayed silent as I cleaned the duo’s wounds. “All done. Now stop doing unnecessary shit like this, you’ll just draw suspicious to your way.” I said and shook my head and the trio just stayed silent not matching my gaze.

“Let’s go then.” I told then and got up. Jin-Ha and Seung-Bin got up as well but Kyung-Jun just sat there. “You two go ahead.” He told them and they just obeyed and left. Leaving me and my cranky boyfriend in the cafe.

“What is-“ “Do you love me?” I started to ask but got cut off by Kyung-Juns question. Do I love him? Of course I do.

“Of course I do. You know it.” I told him snd walked up to him. “It didn’t seem so.” He said and made eye contact. “What do you mean “it didn’t seen so’” I quoted him “Why did you go at Hyun-Ho first when I’m your loved.” He said and that’s when I knew what was up.

“Are you jealous?” I teased him and he sighed. “Of course. That jock freak has liked you for a long time now.” He said face turning into anger. Huhhh?? Hyun-Ho likes me?? Well damn.

“We both know I only love you.” I said and sat down next to him taking his hand onto mine and squeezing it a bit. “I love you.” I told him again.

He gave me s faint smile before standing up and pulling me into a hug. “I’ll make sure we get both out of here. Together.” He reassured me. And I nodded to his chest.

-

Few nights later

-

We were at a swimming pool looking around. I felt like it was pointless but I didn’t give up, I believed Yoon-Seo she was one of my best friends.

I was all the way back almost other side of the room and I heard people talking bit then I thought I saw something in the water.

I crouched down and tried to look again, but I couldn’t see anything anymore. Weird. I tried to look around with my hand and putted it in the water moving it around a bit.

Nothing. I started to get up but then felt a strong tug and I was face first in the water. I gasped and water filled my lungs as I tried to swim back to the surface. I got back to the surface and started coughing and saw Kyung-Jun and everyone else running to the side I was on.

“y/n!” He screamed as he reached me and extended his hand. “I’m okay..” I said and tried to grab his hand but then something tugged me again and I was underwater unable to swim back up.

I heard a splash and felt arms wrap around but my vision was blurry. I gasped for air when I was back up and started coughing hard.

I was in Kyung-Juns arms and Jun-Ha pulled me up as Kyung-Jun tried to lift me. I got on the floor still coughing and people gathered around me. Kyung-Jun basically jumped out of water and came to me.

“What happened?!”

“Are you alright!”

I was getting bombed with questions. “I..” I tried to speak but nothing came out. “Shut up!” Kyung-Jun shouted at everyone l. “Leave her be. She needs to rest!” He said and picked me up in a bridal style and started walk away.

“Message the plan then. Now I’m taking care of my woman.” He said and walked away leaving everyone behind.

He took me to a room and wrapped a towel around me. “I thought I was gonna die.” I told him and felt tears starting to form. “But you’re not. I don’t know what happened but from bow on I’ll protect you always.” He said and wrapped his arms around me.

—

End🙏🏻

What did tug y/n😨 Could it be the ghost..🥶

#night has come (tv) #night has come #kyungjun #romance #fanfic #x reader

[leviaana]

Miraculous Movie Review (Rating: 4/10)

I watched the preview of the Awakening movie yesterday and really want to share my honest review. There’s going to be several things that I’ll criticize. So be warned!

Also: Spoilers!! DON’T read it if you haven’t seen it yet. This is my personal opinion. So please stay excited for it!! 🐞🪄

First of all, my overall rating for this movie is a 4/10. Just yesterday I was ready to give it a 5/10, but quickly noticed it had much more things that upset me than I initially realized when walking out of the movie.

I know it’s a pretty low rating coming from such a huge fan like myself, but that’s probably the main issue. I’m a big fan of the show, so changes in lore and characterization will be more apparent to me. For better or for worse, in this case, mostly for worse.

On the first glimpse the movie seems like a retelling - a soft reboot, if you will - of show’s origin story. The plot goes much further than that however, as it also provides a conclusion in form of a final battle with Hawkmoth as well as an identity reveal of our two main heroes.

In order to ensure the entire premise fits into a 90 minute movie, a lot of things regarding the shows lore were simplified. I say that as a neutral statement seeing as a simplification can be either a good thing or a bad thing, depending on your opinion of the source material.

Personally, it left me rather unsatisfied but I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s start with the good things!

One of the things I really enjoyed was the animation! Seeing miraculous with such a high production value certainly felt like a cool summer breeze. While I do prefer the original character models style wise, it was still just nice to see them in this cutesie pretty style! The locals were gagging!

Ladybug and Cat Noir were especially gorgeous!

I also really enjoyed the singing. I watched the German dub and it was very neat!

Sad to say that was pretty much how long my enjoyment lasted. Everything apart from what I’ve mentioned above was… interestingly handled… to say the least. Let me elaborate.

1. The dialogue was awful!

Truly not the biggest fan of musicals but I couldn’t wait for them to start singing just in order for them to STOP TALKING 😩!

The dialogue was so awkward and stiff. All of the characters were interacting very weirdly with each other. At times it would sound like several lines of dialogue were cut from the final version, as the characters barely acknowledged each other verbally. They didn’t talk with each other, but past each other.

Moreover, every second phrase was a very cheesy one liner. “Believe in yourself.”, “Listen to your heart.”, “stronger together”. Super overdone.

The movie wanted to be inspirational so bad, it forgot to be genuine.

Some examples that I recall from memory:

“Mom, I don’t have any friends and I’m scared to go I school.”

“Just believe in yourself, Marinette.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Or.

“Tikki, I’m in love with Adrien.”

“Listen to your heart, Marinette.”

“My heart……Adrien.”

2. How did they manage to make Ladynoir banter … weird and uncomfortable to watch?

Don’t let these pretty movie shots fool you because Movie!ladynoir spent their time in a constant roasting competition that they were somehow both losing!

Not once did they manage to establish that flirty and charming atmosphere around them. No, they were draaaagging each other through filth. And maybe it could have been somewhat fun, god knows I love couples that can roast each other. If only the dialogue was better and didn’t reek of “we have no idea how young people interact”.

In a desperate attempt to make jokes, they let Chat call LB a sidekick or watermelon in every. single. scene. To say that it got annoying when the jokes didn’t land the first 10 times they were made is an understatement. No Milady, no Bugginette, no little wink or a kiss on the hand. Only watermelon and sidekick. Them talking in weird cut off phrases. With careless whisper playing in the background.

Don’t get me wrong, there are some beautiful moments. But their beauty can only ever do so much when met with weird pacing, dialogue and characterization. I’ll talk about that last part in a minute.

3. Everything was so on-the-nose.

The characters would constantly say how they feel and what they think aloud. Jeremy didn’t trust us with even an ounce of media literacy. Classic case of always telling, never showing. Not to mention the constant inspirational quoting in a desperate attempt to convey some deep message. Is this a movie script or my moms facebook page? I guess we‘ll never know.

4. Characterization: Marinette

Having Marinette be somewhat scatterbrained but overall still respected by her peers is not inspirational enough! Make her your average teenage outcast and a total loser. Dad, you’re embarrassing me in front of the cool kids!

If you enjoy that kind of characterization that’s okay! Personally, I thought it was very cliche. It just.. didn’t do anything for her as a character. Having her start off at a much „lower” point in life, with almost no support system, only makes her coming of age journey to eventually become a self accepting confident heroine take longer. Seeing as the movie is only 90 minutes, the moment we see her “shine” is when it’s all almost over.

5. Ladybug …?

Did I mention Ladybug doesn’t use her lucky charm? Not. once. No crazy plans to show that she’s smart and creative. Just a pretty girl swinging around.

6. Adrien

I have a bit more to criticize about the characterization of Movie!Adrien.

The longer I think about it, the more it becomes apparent that they really didn’t know how to write Adrien. His personality appears inconsistent, almost like they were trying to fit him in too many roles at once. He is either extremely closed off and mysterious (even towards his friends), a comic relief character, bathing in self pity or just outright cocky. Those hoping to see his politeness and selflessness will be disappointed. This character only is ever shown to be self centered. A perfect example is how he *didn’t do anything* to be called worthy of the Black Cat Miraculous. He was just one of the „chosen ones“. When the Adrien from the series sacrificed his own freedom to help Master Fu.

Another example is how this Adrien doesn’t really see anything in Marinette. He called her strange in their first interaction and never really lost a single thought on her throughout the rest of the series. No common praises, no support, just awkwardness and not the wholesome kind. In fact, I would argue Marinette and Adrien aren’t even friends in the movie, the only interaction to suggest otherwise was slammed as a 5 second scene in a 2 minute montage.

Even if you were to suggest their bond was formed off screen. We don’t really see it ever take root. He even turned down her gift and invitation to go to the ball with her. Yes, you guessed correctly. It was because he was busy bathing in self pity over being rejected by Ladybug. Yikes.

To sum it up, this Adrien really doesn’t care about anyone but himself. Ever. They massacred my boy.

7. Chat Noir

His charming smugness as Chat Noir crossed the fine line that turned to arrogance.

Considering how Adrien was characterized, that comes as no surprise.

As mentioned in my criticism towards the dialogue and the Ladynoir dynamic, this Cat is often seen discrediting LB with unfunny jokes. The moment you see him actually appreciate Ladybug, open up to her and Woo her, it’s all overshadowed by his entitlement to her affection.

Some may argue that we see traces of such attitude in the show as well. However, in a series, Chat Noir has many redeeming qualities as well as time to grow, change and move past these flaws. And boy, move past these flaws he did. In the movie, it’s all you get. Take it or leave it.

In one scene, he even lets her think he was hurt by an Akuma in order to catch her worrying about him. It was just a short scene and most people would look past it, but I think it’s these small details that really show how these movie characters tick in comparison to the series.

8. Akumas/Hawkmoth

Just a small detail that kind of ended up taking away the enjoyment of all action scenes is how the Akumas in the movie do not have a motive. There’s just some random people that you don’t care about before their akumatization and that you won’t care about after.

Hawkmoth doesn’t make a deal with them, ask for ladybug and chat noirs miraculous in exchange for his powers, none of that.

He just makes them evil and they do evil things for shits and giggles. The movies premise doesn’t even suggest he needs the miraculous. He just needs to get close enough to Ladybug and Chat Noir to steal Tikki and Plagg.

9. The Ending

I just wanted to dip into that ending real quick. In the movie, Gabriel is redeemed when he finds out about Chat Noir being Adrien. He apologizes to him and they make up. The scene surely will make people emotional, but from my perspective it was all rather predictable.

Whether or not Gabe was worthy of a redemption in the movie is a topic to discuss on its own. Personally, I was okay with it.

What I found more interesting however was…

10. The reveal

This is the moment most people have been waiting and yearning for. And I may sound a bit smug when I say that the movie served a good purpose to show us that a fast reveal would have never ever been satisfying!

It was super underwhelming because - of course it was!

Marinette and Adrien barely had a connection! For all we know they could have been total strangers and their reaction to each other’s identity wouldn’t have been any different than what we saw in the movie.

We never saw Marichat or Ladrien interact either. So that certainly lead to a less explored dynamics. Cue unsatisfying reveal.

They really tried to make it this big emotional final moment, but really? We just saw Ladybug and Chat Noir lean in for a kiss without their masks. Like in a new fit. Nothing really groundbreaking came out of it.

Any fake reveal in the show was better than that and I mean it with every fiber of my being.

And don’t even get me started on how Adrien only ever noticed Marinette when she revealed to be Ladybug. It’s just not it.

Final thoughts.

There’s sooo many more things that I could elaborate on but I think for now I’ve said enough to support my rather poor rating of the movie.

In my opinion, the movie relies too much on people enjoying the source material while trying to be its own thing. It risks leaving everyone unsatisfied.

Those who watch the movie as a stand-alone are met with weird dialogue as well as plot, characters and dynamics that aren’t at all fleshed out.

Meanwhile those who watch the movie because they like the show will be inevitably comparing the movie to its far superior source material.

#miraculous ladybug #ml #miraculous #ladybug #adrien agreste #chat noir #cat noir #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous the movie #awakening #mlb awakening #mlb movie #ladybug and cat noir the movie

[beom-pyu]

truth or drink! (my ex + my boyfriend): choi beomgyu + kang taehyun

part 2 of the truth or drink series! i'm addicited to writing these omg

other parts: yeonjun "couples edition" soobin "engaged edition" kai "blind date edition"

slightly nsfw! (minors dni.)

welcome to truth or drink! y/n’s ex and boyfriend will ask each other a set of random questions. they can either answer the question or take a shot.

“hi! i’m beomgyu, y/n’s ex.”

“i’m taehyun, y/n’s current partner.”

YOU: why did you agree to come here today?

BG: “you told me there would be free drinks so…”

YOU: “i knew you were gonna say that.”

BG: “also because it sounded interesting! i’ve known both of them for a few years, so i think it’ll be fun.”

YOU: and taehyun?

TH: “i know you’ve changed a lot since you were with beomgyu and i’m curious to see how things worked between you guys so i know what not to do.”

BG: “was that shade?”

YOU: “i’m pretty sure that was shade.”

taehyun just smiles and leans back in his seat.

how long have you dated, or have been dating y/n?

BG: “close to two years.”

TH: “five months.”

what’s the relationship between you guys?

TH: “i think we’re pretty civil? not as close as we used to be, but that happened kind of naturally.”

BG: “yeah, we hung out every now and then before i moved to a different city. i’d definitely say we’re friends, right?”

TH: “almost-friends.”

BG: “i’ll take it.”

shall we start?

BG: “wait, i’m gonna need a shot to get through this.”

TH: “cheers.”

taehyun pulls a card and immediately flips it back over.

BG: “you have to read it!”

TH: “anything but this one, god.”

BG: “you have to take five shots if you don’t read it.”

taehyun squints, but gives in anyways.

TAEHYUN: what would it take to have a threesome with us?

BG: “maybe like $15 and a big mac combo?”

YOU: “how do you feel about that, taehyun?”

TH: “immediately no.”

BG: have you ever been jealous of me?

TH: “i’ll be honest. i used to be a little jealous.”

BG: “of me? i’m surprised.”

TH: “you guys were still close after your break up, so it felt a little weird when we started dating.”

YOU: “this is news to me too.”

TH: “it was more so my own insecurities rather than jealousy, really.”

BG: “no, i’m gonna hold on to this forever. the kang taehyun was jealous of me!”

TH: “okay, moving on.”

TH: what’s something you taught them in bed that i’m benefitting from?

BG: “oh! i definitely taught them how to deep throat. it was rough in the beginning.”

YOU: “i’m still embarrassed.”

TH: “don’t worry baby, you’re doing great.”

BG: “yea, thanks to me!”

BG: why do you think i wasn’t a good match for my ex?

TH: “you guys are polar opposites. your personalities clash too much.”

BG: “yeah, i’d agree with that."

TH: "also you're too soft."

BG: "i'm not soft!"

YOU: "you're a little soft."

BG: "are you guys like teaming up on me or something?"

taehyun shrugs and you giggle under your breath.

TH: why do you think your ex likes me?

BG: “you got your shit together, man. like, you have the soul of a 45-year-old, i’m not joking.”

TH: “i’m gonna take that as a compliment...?"

BG: "whatever makes you happy."

BG: how have i affected your partner’s life, for better or for worse?

TH: “hm... i feel like you taught them a lot of life lessons. you guys dated when you were, what.. 19, 20?”

BG: “yeah, we were both really young, so i think we learned a lot from each other.”

you nod at the camera with a little smile and a thumbs up.

TH: did you ever hook up with my partner after we started dating?

BG: “nope. i don’t do shit like that.”

YOU: “yup. i’m completely satisfied with taehyun in bed.”

BG: “swiftly moving on!”

BG: have you two come close to breaking up? if so, what happened?

TH: “pass me the bottle.”

YOU: “no, no, go ahead. answer the question.”

TH: “okay, we broke up after the first two weeks, but we got back together the next day.”

BG: “i need the details, you can’t just leave it at that.”

TH: “i wanted to focus on grad school and i thought i couldn’t make time for a relationship, but i realized i couldn’t lose y/n, so we worked things out.”

BG: "okay romeo and juliet."

YOU: "that's not even how the story goes."

BG: "it's up for interpretation."

TH: is there any part of you that’s not over the breakup? any regrets?

BG: “our friendship definitely took a hit after breaking up and i really regret losing them as an important person in my life. i think i was very immature and didn’t really know exactly what i wanted at the time, so i took my emotions out on them. i was trying to pursue a relationship while still trying to figure myself out.”

YOU: “i think i was the same way. you were my first serious relationship, so it was pretty rocky and i definitely have a lot of regrets, but we both grew from it.”

BG: has my ex ever talked about our sex life with you. if so, what did they say about me?

taehyun swiftly fills up his shot glass.

BG: “what did you say?!”

YOU: “too much, apparently.”

taehyun nods in agreement before downing the shot.

TH: on a scale of one to ten, how good was the sex?

BG: “uhhh…”

beomgyu reaches for the bottle.

YOU: “i didn’t think it was that bad, oh my god.”

TH: “well, i can say you’ve definitely improved, then.”

BG: “i’m taking another shot.”

BG: who’s hotter, you or me?

TH: “you.”

BG: “i was gonna say you’re hotter!”

TH: “well, let’s ask the audience.”

they both turn towards you with expectant looks.

...

YOU: “am i allowed to take a shot too?”

TH: do you think i’m a good match for my partner, and can you ever see us in a long-term relationship?

BG: “you guys are probably one of the healthiest couples i know. it’s actually kind of freaky how well you guys go together.”

you can’t help the little smile that forms on your

face. 

BG: “you definitely show y/n how much they deserve to be loved and i can see that you are both really happy. tae-y/n for life!”

TH: “that was actually kind of sweet. i wasn’t expecting this.”

BG: “i can be a cutie pie when i want to be.”

TH: “okay, that’s enough of that.”

how were the questions?

BG: "honestly a little awkward, but they weren't as bad as i thought they were gonna be."

taehyun silently nods in agreement.

do you think you're officially friends after this?

TH: "not really—"

BG: "yes—wow..."

TH: "we're cool, though."

BG: "hey, no hard feelings. wait, producer, can i take this bottle home? really? thank you!"

#txt imagines #txt x reader #txt x y/n #txt x you #txt fluff #txt smut #beomgyu imagine #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x y/n #taehyun imagine #taehyun x reader #taehyun x y/n #taehyun fluff #beomgyu fluff #taehyun hard hours #beomgyu hard hours #beom-pyu

[unclewaynemunson]

The final part to the Wingman Wayne AU is here! (And I also decided to publish the whole thing on ao3!!!)

'You got somethin' you wanna tell me?' asks Wayne when he steps out of the trailer to join Eddie for a smoke, the door creaking behind him.

Eddie still can't believe how that man never fails to be one step ahead of him.

'Um... Can I um...' He clears his throat. He doesn't know why he's being so nervous all of a sudden – it's just Wayne, after all. 'We're having dinner together tomorrow, right?'

'Always on Sunday,' Wayne confirms. His perceptive blue eyes wander over his nephew’s face like he's concerned about something. Then, a strong hand lands on Eddie’s shoulder.

'You know you can tell me anything, right?'

Of course he does. He breathes out, thinks back to that excited look in Wayne’s eyes when he first gave Eddie that number. Wayne’s safe. Always has been, always will be.

'Can I invite my boyfriend?'

His uncle arches an eyebrow, deepening the lines on his forehead. 'Your boyfriend, huh?' he repeats. 'Is he named Chad?'

Eddie bursts into laughter. Of course he would react like that.

'No, he's not,' he answers. 'He's named Steve.'

'Ha! I knew it!'

Eddie only rolls his eyes; of-fucking-course this was going to happen.

'So I take it you wanna tell me you learned to never doubt your old uncle again, huh?’

Eddie snorts. 'Need I remind you that I only met up with him to stop your ridiculous matchmaking?'

'And now that you know how wrong you were ‘bout that one, you wanna apologize to me for bein’ as stubborn as a goddamn mule and beg me to not stop my matchmaking after all?'

'No, I very much still want you to stop that,' Eddie retorts. 'I'm actually planning to keep this one around long enough for you to never have to play matchmaker again. But you know what, Steve has this lesbian friend, I'm sure she'd love to be set up with a cute girl who “looks like a lesbian” to you.'

Wayne doesn't seem to register the sarcasm in Eddie's voice or the teasing twinkle in his eyes; he frowns, looking like he's deep in thought, before his face lights up all of a sudden.

'I met this nice young lady who works for the Gazette, she did some article 'bout the working circumstances at the plant a couple weeks back. Was real polite, actually listened to what we had to say for a change... I'm sure she'd get along just fine with Steve's friend.'

Eddie starts cackling. 'Don't let it get to your head now, old man.' He pauses. 'Or actually, maybe you should. You could become, like, the psychic of the gays. Earn lots of money with it.' Eddie wiggles his eyebrows as he says it.

Wayne merely shakes his head at him, but an almost invisible smile is tugging at his lips. Suddenly, he brusquely pulls Eddie in for a sideways hug.

'I'm happy for ya, Ed. You better keep your Steve around for a while, alright?'

-------

As soon as Steve arrives at the trailer, Eddie launches himself into in his arms and immediately gets himself a taste of the most delicious kind of strawberry known to mankind, because he might as well profit as much as he possibly can from the fact that he can actually do that now.

Steve gapes at him, his mouth hanging slightly open and his eyebrows raised in bewilderment. 'Dude. Did you just lick my mouth?'

Eddie shrugs. 'Tastes like a lollipop.'

It isn't until he takes a step back that he properly notices the parts of Steve that aren't his pink lips: he's wearing a dinner jacket and holding a bunch of flowers – which by the looks of it got mildly maimed by Eddie's enthusiastic greeting.

'What the fuck, Stevie.' It slips out before Eddie can help it.

'What?' Steve gives him another confused look.

'I mean, don't get me wrong, you're looking insanely hot right now, but... Why are you dressed like we're about to go to the opera?'

'Meeting the parents for the first time, gotta make a good impression!'

'You already met Wayne,' Eddie blankly points out.

'I didn't meet him as your boyfriend, though.' Your boyfriend. It feels fucking unreal to hear Steve say that. And judging by the way it makes Eddie's stomach all floaty and his mouth unable to stop smiling, it's gonna be very bad for that scary metal image he's been working so hard on crafting for himself.

'He's already, like, your number one fan,' Eddie says. 'You need to fuck up real bad to not make a good impression here.'

An adorably relieved look crosses Steve's face at those words.

Eddie squints at Steve's clothes, from the baby-blue button-down to the neatly polished fancy shoes that already got completely ruined by the muddy trailer park ground.

'Dude, you know where we are, right?' he says. 'Just – take a look around you. Do you think we are the kind of people that care about formal clothing and fucking flowers? We were barely able to fit a third chair around the dinner table, we're literally gonna be eating canned macaroni.'

Steve furrows his brows. 'Are you trying to scare me off?'

'No, I'm just giving you the facts. Because you look like you were expecting cloth napkins and, I dunno, maybe the Queen of England.'

'Not really. Just wanted to do it properly.' He shrugs lightly and suddenly seems smaller, like Eddie is not the only one who sometimes gets overwhelmed by figuring out this whole relationship thing they have going on. 'It's important to me. And honestly, your uncle deserves even more respect than the Queen of England, for getting you into my life, you know.'

And Jesus, if that isn't enough to make Eddie melt into a puddle right on the spot... He hopes Steve doesn't notice how rapidly he's suddenly blinking.

'So, you gonna take these or not?'

Steve holds out the flowers, almost hesitant, like he's half expecting Eddie to refuse them. As if he could ever refuse anything Steve would gift him.

'Why thank you, my darling,' Eddie says with a bow. 'You're actually the first guy who ever brought me flowers.' He lets his fingers linger around Steve's as he takes the bouquet from him.

A soft smile crosses Steve’s face. 'And you're the first guy I ever brought flowers to.' He still doesn’t pull his hands away, but instead leans in closer to give Eddie a peck on his lips. And maybe, just maybe, there's something about the whole thing – the jacket, the flowers, the sweetness – that Eddie could actually get used to.

'You wanna get inside and say hi to my uncle?'

'I'd love to. Can't wait to thank him properly for being the greatest matchmaker on earth.'

'Please don't tell him that,' Eddie says with a chuckle. 'He really doesn't need any more encouragement. I'm pretty sure he's already scheming to set up a queer dating agency or some shit.'

‘You should know by now I can hear everything you're sayin' from here!’ Wayne’s voice yells from inside the trailer.

Steve grins as Eddie grabs his hand tighter to lead him inside.

‘It wouldn't hurt you to show him some more support in following his dreams, you know,’ he mumbles to Eddie under his breath.

‘Jesus H. Christ, I can’t believe you’re already teaming up with him to bully me before you even met him!’

He should probably be mad about it, but Steve squeezes his hand and gives him such a precious smile that the only thing he can do is smile back at him.

Holy shit creating this silly little AU has honestly been such a wild ride thanks to all your reactions to it, i can’t say enough how happy all those notifications have made me and I still can’t believe there were SO MANY OF YOU who asked to follow along!!<3333

Taglist: @phantypurple @love-kurdtt @eddiemunsonswife @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @swimmingbirdrunningrock @paintsplatteredandimperfect @stevesbipanic @momotonescreaming @yourebuckingkiddingme @th3-r4t-k1ng @messrs-weasley @moonshadows-13 @im-sam-fucking-winchester @xjessicafaithx @yournowheregirl @henderdads @lwhoscribbles @courtjestermunson @steveisabicon @rainydays35  @cassaloopa @skeliiix @thesuninyaface @silversnaffles @jestyzesty @4nemo1egend @ace-of-foxes @harringtonsgother @thegingervulcan @snapshotmaestro @thereindeerlady @jillfriend @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @gamerdano @spectrum-spectre @zerokrox-blog @00biscuit @mixsethaddams @steve-the-hairrington @episcogoth @caligularib @gaydrieeen @winterbuckwild @bookbinderbitch @daysarestranger @nonbinary-eddie-munson @fangirltofangod @solalasoforth @obsessivlyme @slit-wrist @fxndom-hoe @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @joruni @roastingdragon @lenore1232 @princessstevemunson @cuips-not-cute @munsonsuccubus @justalittlefungi @cherrycolas-things @nitrilexam @thepainisspicy @hopefulslothcollecter @whatisreggieshortfor @doctorqueensanatomy @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @sadcanadianwinter @iamsotiredman @orangeandthefairroadkill @anything-thats-rock-and-roll @b-icetea @freddykicksasses @faery-god @poleaxed-aloe @mamaclownhunter @paperbackribs @blvckwidow @mightbeasleep @butuglypeoplefucktoo @lolawon @angryavocadofrog @iwouldsail @livelaughlexa @magpiemuseum @shushuac  @ravnlinn @homohomohoe @kissaphobic-kas @cmackz93 @your-greatest-queen @alltheweirdkidsinoneplace @soulsofstarsliveinyourveins @ceaselessly-watching @anaibis @enchantedlandcoffee @fluffy-alpaca-of-darkness @nelotegreitic @mollymawkwrites @evix-syne666 @redfreckledwolf @ajamlessbaby @connected-dots @nothisisntmyname @steddieassheg0es @anxiouseds @summer1066 @loopholesinmydreams @mareydi  @lillemilly @this-is-moony-lovegood @qomrades @mad-h-w @gay-stranger-things @blanketlicker @fandomcartographer @adankrivervalleynearyou @undreamingscatworld @theysherobinbuckley @i-wanna-combust @stranger-poets-society  @fanshipgirl88 @nonhetbts @literallyjustarat @knitsforthetrail @limpingpenguin @spoopy-rayvynnnox @impeachy @ashwinmeird @7boxesofcheerios @nonsense-of-dimitri @azreadytodie @fuctacles @fuzzyduxk @pluto-pepsi @bornonthesavage @what-am-i-doing-with-my-non-life @alanna342 @jinxjinn @ali-just-ali @piningapple @captain-daryn @namelessssho @doltclassic @elsarenard @ramyayaya @my-heart-is-stopped @lightwoodbanethings @goblin-eddie @indie-npc @alienace @satan-is-obsessed @booksandscience @shrimply-a-menace @hammity-hammer @mits-ki @sharingisntkaren @dbquills @electrick-marionnett @thecherryslush @nuttychaosface @grtwdsmwhr @ceph-the-mothman @gay-little-bitch @brassreign @ninjapirateunicorns @quickenedheartbeat @infrogulous @breealtair @hellomynameismoo @ecarliethic @sultrypickle @lovelyscot @ladydorian05

#100% back on my bullshit for this last one #(the bullshit being a fuckton of fluff) #also i needed eddie being a lil weirdo and steve reacting to that with the exact face he made upon seeing the jazzercise instructor dude #for my own sanity #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #wayne munson #fruity ficlet

[auteurdelabre]

Something to Fight For (series)(PART 5)

Word Count: 10.6

Pairing: Dad!Joel Miller x f!reader (no use of y/n, no age or physical descriptions)

Warnings: THERE ARE SEXUAL THEMES IN THIS CHAPTER.   

A/N: This is part of a series (lots of angst, pining and smut ahead) Also despite Sarah's young age Joel is early 40's in this because slightly grey babygirl DILF Joel is the best Joel.

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You’ve been staring at your cellphone for the last hour.

It’s Thursday morning, a full two days since Joel thrust flowers at you and walked off. Two days since Maria put them in a vase and observed that perhaps she wouldn’t kick Joel’s ass. Two days since you’d been to the office or seen James with his obvious hostility towards Joel.

You go from staring at your phone to staring at the flowers. The colorful arrangement sits on your coffee table looking so cheerful. You catch yourself smiling at it more often than not. You touch one of the petals, feeling its velvet softness before you punch in the numbers and raise the phone to your ear. It buzzes and by the fourth ring your anxiety is off the charts and you go to end the call when you hear it connect.

“Hello?”

The sound of Joel’s husky voice makes you feel apprehensive.

You almost can't speak for a moment, feeling tongue tied. But then you clear your throat and force the words out.

"Hey it’s me. Just calling to see what time you wanted me over tomorrow night?"

You bite your lip harshly, your eyes shutting tightly as you wait for his response. There's a lengthy pause and you panic wondering if you'd misread signals. Weren't you going back to normal after the whole flower thing? Finally you hear Joel clear his throat. 

"I wasn't sure if you still wanted to."

"Of course I do," you assure. "As long as Sarah still thinks I'm the coolest adult in the world."

"I think she might think you're the coolest person of any age," Joel says and you think you hear admiration in his tone.

"What can I say, the kid has taste," you say affecting a supercilious voice. "Can't say she takes after her old man in that regard but..."

You hear Joel chuckle lightly and smile. Things are back to the way they have been. Good.  But there’s still one thing you need to acknowledge, no matter how awkward it is.

“I also wanted to call to say I appreciated the flowers,” you say after a beat. “And the apology.”

You can hear Joel holding his breath. 

"Never been that great with words,” he finally says in a voice pitched low. "Not always sure how to handle givin’ bad news. Apparently my delivery could use some work."

“Yeah, well, we can’t all be perfect like me,” you tell him breezily before remembering one additional detail. “Oh, and I’m calling you from my cell, so you can save the number on yours. That way you don’t have to go through the office.”

You hear a pause and some tapping.

“Got it.”

“You can text if it’s easier.”

“It’s not.”

You laugh at his solemn tone musing that you can’t really picture Joel Miller texting at all.

///

"Any chance you have a bunch of blueberries hanging around?"

A few hours later you're on Frank and Bill's front stoop wearing Maria's apron and a nervous smile. Maria is no better than you with baking so you're hoping your neighbors might be able to lend a hand with your current predicament. 

"Not sure." Frank looks you over, amusement in his eyes. "But come in and we'll look."

You pad in after him with your bowl like a lost puppy. You feel like one, you'd thought making cupcakes to decorate would be fun but your first test batch tasted like hot garbage. Maria had choked one down before telling you to just get some at the grocery store. 

"I promised Sarah I'd bring cupcakes for us to decorate on tomorrow," you explain as Frank and you walk into the kitchen. 

Bill is sitting at the table with the newspaper sat in front of him. He's sipping coffee from an ornate looking teacup as he slants a frown at you as you continue explaining to Frank.

"She really wants blueberry ones and no one carries any."

"They're out of season," Bill mumbles. You turn to face him, looking disappointed. 

"Hey Bill. Really? Fuck."  

The empty bowl hangs loosely from your disappointed grasp. You don’t notice when Frank shoots a meaningful look at Bill over your head that the other man groans at. Bill pushes himself to a stand, as if being helpful causes him extreme physical exertion.

"We have some frozen."

Your smile is back on your face immediately. "Is there any way I could borrow a cup? Please?"

Bill is in a surprisingly good mood (a good mood for Bill is a tepid one for most others) because he agrees. He goes to the deep freeze in the garage and returns with your bowl overflowing with plump little frozen berries. 

"Anything else you need?" Frank asks kindly as you profusely thank them both. 

"No, I think I have everything else.” You lift your eyes skyward as you rattle off the ingredients you bought. "Flour, butter, salt, eggs, baking soda, vanilla."

"Baking powder," Bill interrupts. 

"Huh?"

"Baking powder, not baking soda," Bill corrects.  

"Baking soda, baking powder, it's the same thing right? Besides the baking soda was cheaper," you say distracted. "Anyway, thank you so much for the blueberries. Fingers crossed this batch works out!" 

Frank and Bill exchange a concerned look and then Bill is taking the bowl back from you and telling you to follow him back into the kitchen before you waste his berries. 

It turns out baking soda and baking powder are not interchangeable. You learn this working alongside Bill who is watching you measure his ingredients into a large bowl. You think this may have contributed to your first crap batch.

Frank excuses himself to work on his paintings with a wry smile on his face as he watches the two of you get to work.  

It's funny because while Bill is gruff at the best of times, right now he's instructive and patient. He does snap a bit when you drop eggshell into the batter, but his gloom passes quickly. 

"You're going to a lot of trouble for this kid," he says as you begin to stir in the berries. "Are you sweet on her dad or something? Trying to get the kid to like you so you'll get in his good books?"

"No," you laugh, your cheeks pinking under Bills quirked brow. "I just genuinely just like her. I'm actually babysitting her tomorrow so the dad can go on a date."

Bill gives a hummed response before reminding you to stir faster and with the bowl on an angle to get rid of clumps. You do as he says, observing when things start to smooth in the bowl. Its almost fun doing this, seeing the progress you make with Bill’s instruction.

Later you enjoy pouring the batter into the paper cups in the pan, noting that they already look so much better than your attempt did at this stage. 

"Frank told me about the trivia nonsense."

Bill murmurs this out of nowhere as you put the pan of cupcakes into the oven and set the timer.  You feel awkward, unsure of how Bill feels about everything you did.  He’s more private than Frank and less inviting to others’ opinions. You chance a look at him to see his face typically unreadable. 

"It was nice of you to think of us, like that." His hands are in his jeans pockets and he's looking at the oven, not at you, but you can feel how genuine that statement from Bill is. 

You don't want to press it, don't want to throw your arms around him like you would with Frank. Instead you cross your arms over your chest and lean back against the counter next to Bill. 

"I can't imagine having the world hate me for loving someone," you mutter shaking your head. "Fucking insane.”

You keep your eyes on the oven because you're worried if you look at Bill you might cry. 

You feel as Bill's meaty hand comes out of nowhere to squeeze your shoulder gently, lifting just as quick. Then he's gone from you, remarking that he has extra cookies in the basement, his special stash, and that Sarah will probably like them as a topping for her cupcakes. 

Frank enters just in time to see this exchange but says nothing as his husband passes him in the hall. Frank's eyes are wet when you look at him. 

"Fuck, I wish I'd met him sooner."

"Eight years is a long time to be together," you start but Frank is shaking his head. 

"Could've been fifteen if we both had just admitted how we felt about each other, instead of fighting it," Frank shakes his head slowly, going to refill his coffee cup. "Just think, eight years wasted because we were so scared of what everyone else would think."

You stare at Frank for a moment, watching as he pours cream into his coffee, stirring thoughtfully. 

"Wish we'd had kids together."

"You still can. You're not that old, Frank."

"Even if we were twenty five and rich you think they're gonna give a baby to two queers? Here?" Frank shakes his head dejected. "Not a chance."

You say nothing because you know that what Frank is saying is true. Your heart aches for him because you know that he and Frank together would be wonderful parents. 

Frank is looking at the basement door with soft focus.  

"I just think he would have made the best dad, you know?" 

Strangely enough you do know, because under the gruff exterior of Bill is a heart with so much love for those he chooses to share it with.  

"He can be my dad if he wants," you joke lightly. You're surprised when a knot forms in your throat, cutting the laugh off abruptly. 

Frank laughs sweetly at this offer before going back to his office and his sketches.

You stand looking after him for a long while, thinking how insidious a thing like wasted time can be. 

////

You smile at the jack o' lanterns that greet you as you walk up Joel's drive. One of them is large and cut to have a lopsided grin. The other looks like an attempt at a cat with mismatched whiskers. 

You're surprised to see Sarah on the other side of the door, on her tiptoes to open it when you knock. She jerks her neck back so she can stare up at you.

"Daddy said I could answer the door," she tells you proudly. 

"You did a great job," you say as you pick her up, her tiny frame so light in your arms, before closing the door. "Did you carve those pumpkins out front?"

"Daddy helped."

"But you were the brains behind the operation."

Sarah doesn't seem to know what that means so she gives a tentative nod. You internally remind yourself that she's only five and maybe you need to talk to her like it. 

You bring her into the kitchen, dropping her at her chair before pulling the bag from your shoulder. 

"Guess what I brought?"

Sarah's eyes are wide as you reach into your bag and pull out the plastic container full of cupcakes iced and ready to be decorated. In a bag you have jimmies, chocolate chips, Bill's mint cookies and a whole host of other toppings that would keep the sugar monsters in business if they were real. 

"But not until after dinner," you inform her before she can lunge for the bag. She sighs as if this is inhumane torture but agrees, asking you to color with her until the lasagna in the stove finishes cooking. 

You hear creaking overhead, the sound of a tap being turned on and off. You feel strange about seeing Joel after the whole flower thing. Maybe even a bit nervous. With Joel it’s so hard to know where you stand – are you friends? Employer and employee? Acquaintances? Someone he puts up with because of his daughter?

You just don’t know.

"Daddy you look pretty," Sarah tells Joel when he bounds down the stairs minutes later. You glance up from the coloring page she's been drawing on and swallow.

You have to agree with Sarah's assessment. You can now admit to yourself that Joel's an attractive guy. Tonight is no exception. His dark jeans are just the right amount of tight, the flannel is a navy that makes his skin glow and it's unbuttoned enough to showcase his lean neck. 

"Thanks, babygirl," Joel says with an embarrassed flush from the attention. He notices the container in your hand and flashes his brows.

"What's that?"

"Cupcakes for decorating," you say proudly opening the container to show off your baking prowess. "And I know they taste good because my neighbor helped me make 'em."

"You made them?"

"Yeah. Want one before you go?"

"Don't want to spoil my appetite," he replies before pausing and smirking. "But maybe you could save me one?"

"Not sure," you tease. “I guess if Sarah says so. These are hers after all."

Sarah agrees, but only with the promise from Joel that she can decorate it however she wants. The two of you go back to coloring, Sarah talking about something she saw at her school. As you do this you watch covertly as Joel begins to walk around the kitchen, his eyes drifting over all the surfaces. 

He paces like this for several minutes growing increasingly red in the cheeks. He rubs the back of his neck in irritation. 

"Joel?" You ask with a small tug of your lips when he shoots you a questioning look. 

"You been looking for your keys for the last ten minutes?"

"Yeah."

"You're holding them."

Joel looks down at his left hand to see your right and swears lightly under his breath.

Thankfully Sarah doesn't hear him. 

///

"Can you come over tomorrow?" Sarah asks between bites of her decorated dessert a short while later. "We can have more cupcakes."

"Sorry bug, I got plans." You lick the icing from your fingertips. 

"A date?"

You pause. She knows about dating? You consider lying to her but then decide that seems weird. 

"Uh, yeah." 

"You have a boyfriend?" Sarah looks up at you with interest. Or is it surprise? You try not to feel offended if it's the latter. 

"Uh, not really,"' you stutter awkwardly. "Not yet. Nah, uh, I dunno."

You feel flushed. James as your boyfriend? Why hadn't the thought crossed your mind? You're sleeping with him, it seems a natural next step. So why is it such a foreign concept to you? With Paul it had been an immediate concept; you had wanted to be his girlfriend for so long. But with James? It just doesn’t flow like you thought it would.

Sarah is looking up at you quizzically so you decide to change the subject. You go to grab a cloth from beside the sink. 

"What are you dressing up as for Halloween?"

Sarah pauses. "I think a puppy.”

The two of you chat more about trick or treating next week and how her friends are having a party. This gets her on the subject of parties and she starts getting excited, her tiny feet kicking out under her chair.

"My birthday is soon. I want a my little pony."

"When is it?"

"March."

You laugh out loud at this. "March is months away."

Sarah doesn't seem to mind this one small oversight and launches into how she wants to ride a horse for her birthday. You start clearing the table, half listening half thinking about how dark it is outside. 

"Are you gonna have a party?"

"Yep. With purple cupcakes."

You laugh at this, continuing to wipe up the mess you've both made. Sarah rambles on about birthdays as you continue to half listen. You've had trouble focusing tonight, finding yourself glancing at the wall clock more than you care to admit. 

It's Joel.

Well, no, more specifically it's Joel's date. You didn't really get to know much of her at the Bison, but there's something about Joel dating her that makes you feel iffy. 

You go over to the cupboard, putting away the clean dishes and realize it’s because if things go well with Joel and his date tonight, she could be a big part of his life. Your potential friendship with Joel will be over before it even starts. No girlfriend is gonna want some random woman hanging out with her boyfriend. 

And even worse, this burgeoning mentor ship of sorts that you have with Sarah will be over. Joel will have a girlfriend and they'll probably wanna do stuff together just the three of them. 

"I don't have a mommy," Sarah tells you out of nowhere and breaking into your distressing thoughts.

“What?”

You spin around to face her. She's sitting there at the table still eating her cupcake if she hasn't just said something monumental. 

"That's not true, Sarah. Everyone has a mommy."

"Not me," Sarah tells you with a voice that verges on pride as she looks up from her cupcake. "I was hatched from an egg like in Horton."

"Hmmm, last time I checked human babies don't come from eggs," you tell her diplomatically.  

"Then where's my Mommy?" Sarah asks you in confusion. 

You pause to gauge if you should continue this topic of conversation. You think it's not your place but Sarah's eyes are so trusting of you and you feel compelled. 

You inhale slowly before coming to sit across from her at the table. Despite the heavy conversation her eyes are on her dessert that she continues to decorate and nibble at. But when you speak her large eyes dart to your face.

"Honestly Sarah, I don't know where your Mom is. I wish I had a better answer than that, but I don't. But I know you had a Mommy. You grew in her tummy like all babies do."

Sarah’s brows raise. "What did she look like?"

"I don't know, I never met her." 

Sarah is unimpressed with this. "If I have a Mommy why doesn't she live with me?"

You feel like your fucking this whole conversation up and it's really not your place to begin with.

"Sometimes Mommies and Daddies don't live with their kids."

You don't know what Joel has told Sarah but it's not much. 

"Maybe she didn't like me," Sarah says in a heartbreaking observation.

"Impossible," you intercede, launching your torso across the table and cupping both her chubby cheeks in your hands. "You are the coolest kid I've ever met, Sarah. Funny and smart."

Sarah has slumped into herself, her hazel eyes growing glassy with frustration as she pulls back from your hands. You sit back in your chair dejected. Fuck, you never should have said anything. You should have handed it off to Joel when he got back.

But he wouldn’t have done anything about it. He hasn’t for the first five years of Sarah’s life, why would he start now? Your decision is made and you take another steadying breath, internally praying that you’re doing the right thing.

"Sarah. I'm gonna tell you something that not a lot of people know about me," you start, seeing as her attention is back on your face. You add some decorations to her cupcake, trying to keep the mood casual.

"For a long time I didn't see my Daddy," you explain, placing the chocolates artfully along the icing. "He was sick a lot. Really sick. And he didn't live with us. All my friends talked about their Daddy's and I felt really left out because my Daddy wasn't around."

Sarah is staring up at you as if you've sprouted a second head. You suppose for a child it is hard for them to imagine adults as kids. 

"Did your Daddy get better?" Sarah asks handing you the package of jimmies to open. "Did he come back?"

"For a bit."

"Will my mommy come back?"

"I don't know," you say wishing you had better answers.

Sarah looks deflated, her tiny fingers absently tapping the counter. You want to pull her into a hug but her body language is closed off and you need to respect that. Words are all you have to comfort her right now. 

"I know it sounds weird, but you're really lucky, Sarah. Because your Daddy loves you more than a Mommy and a Daddy put together."

Sarah's eyes are large and luminous at this thought. 

"Some parents are really special like that," you explain with a warm smile. "They have so much love inside of them, more love than if they were two whole people. And their kids are the luckiest in the whole world."

You can see Sarah trying to absorb this. She licks the corner of her icing laden mouth, her eyes troubled. 

"Did your Mommy and Daddy love you like that?"

You hesitate before diverting her attention to a fresh cupcake that's just begging to be decorated.

///

It's not even eight when you hear Joel's key hit the front door. You hope Sarah is asleep otherwise the sound of her father's arrival will have her sneaking downstairs to see him. 

"You're back so early," You say trying to sound casual as he comes into the kitchen where you're finishing cleaning up the mess you and Sarah left on the table.

"Yep."

"Date was just that good, huh?"

Joel is looking everywhere but your face. "Nice enough girl, but not for me."

You watch him shrug off his jacket, forcing yourself not to notice the way his shirt underneath strains over his shoulders. 

"What went so wrong so fast?" 

"Things got weird once she found out I had a kid," Joel says with grimace. "But even before that, conversation was like pullin' teeth."

"I'm sorry," you say with a frown. But something secret in you tilts pleasurably at the knowledge. 

"Don't be," Joel says with a push from the counter. "Reminds me why I stayed single so long. It's a helluva lot cheaper."

"Too true," you giggle. "After Paul I swore off relationships. Too much money, too much work. Too much disappointment."

"Well, you got that James now," Joel says airily. "Hopefully he's not a disappointment."

He lets this hang between you and you find yourself blushing. For some reason you really don't like talking about James with Joel. You see as Joel reaches for his wallet and you feel your face flame at the thought of taking money from him.

“Joel, please. I was here for like, not even two hours.  Don’t worry about the paying.”

“I do though,” Joel says with a creased brow. “We talked about this. You paid for all that dessert stuff outta your own pocket.”

“I know,” you nod shallowly. “It just feels weird. I… Let’s just skip it for tonight?”

Joel’s eyes dance along your face before he sighs and replaces his wallet back into his back pocket. 

"I better get going," you tell him as the moment becomes awkward. 

"I'm callin' you a cab," Joel insists. "It's dark and you takin' the bus can’t happen.”

"No, I - "

"C'mon. Lemme have a win tonight."

"Fine," you agree with a roll of your eyes. You watch him punch in the numbers before going back to the last of the dishes. 

You feel Joel come up behind you, tensing when his hand skates along your waist, nudging you gently to the side as he reaches beside you to grab one of the mugs you've washed. It's his favorite one, green and oversized. In his hand though, it looks normal. 

"How can you drink coffee this late?" You muse watching him turn on the machine. "You'll be up for hours."

"It's relaxing," Joel insists, watching the machine. "And delicious. Cab’ll be here soon."

You finish the dishes before wiping your hands as Joel pours himself his black coffee.

You were right, he is a coffee purist. 

He takes it to the kitchen table, indicating with his head that you should join him. You plate the cupcake Sarah made for him, sliding the plate to him before sitting.

"Thanks. You know, I really appreciate you sittin' Sarah," Joel says around his mug. "I know it was last minute."

You shrug, letting him know without words that you didn’t mind at all. Joel is smiling softly at you over his coffee and a part of you wants to extend the serenity of the moment. But then Sarah's pinched little face from this evening swims into your head. 

"Hey, this is none of my business but Sarah's got a lot of questions about her Mom," you say trying to sound detached.

"What?"

You can see Joel's shoulders tensing, his dark eyes narrowing on your face and you feel a moment of apprehension. You start to ramble as you always do when you start panicking.

"I tried my best to uh, well to talk. Like, talk to her about it but you might wanna, ya know, talk to her about it yourself."

Why were ya talkin' to her about it for?!

You can practically hear Joel's voice spitting this at you, the southern drawl more prominent when he's agitated. You're surprised when instead of ordering you out of his house with a roar he just nods sharply and then sighs. 

"What exactly did you tell her?"

You swallow nervously. "I told her she wasn't hatched from an egg like Horton, whatever that means."

"Horton Hatches the Egg," Joel muses. "Doctor Seuss. We just read it last night."

"Okay, that makes more sense," you ghost a smile at the realization. "Uh, then I just told her sometimes kids don't have Mommy’s or Daddy’s that live with them but that she was lucky she had, uh, a dad like you that loves her so much."

You don't go into detail there, not finding it necessary to bare your own history with him. 

You're still nervous waiting for the other shoe to drop when you confess this. But Joel doesn't look angry, he just looks impossibly tired. His lack of aggression makes you feel that you can ask your next question and you do softly, studying his down turned face.  

"Can you tell me about Sarah's mom? Is that okay?" 

You see the fingers of Joel's left hand tighten around the mug. 

"We met about seven years ago. Uh, at a friend's party." Joel clears his throat, his eyes on his coffee. "Tommy was there actually with his girlfriend at the time. Anyway, I met Michelle, that's her name, uh, ya know and we made Sarah a couple months later."

You're nodding, trying not to press him into sharing more than he feels comfortable with. 

"She wasn't planned," Joel says and you can tell her hates to say it, that it feels almost like a betrayal because she's the greatest thing that's ever happened to him. "Michelle didn't want to be a mom. When she found out she was pregnant with Sarah she almost didn't keep her."

Your eyes blow wide at this, at the thought that Sarah may not have been alive in another universe.  Joel takes the fork from the plate and gently stabs at his cupcake, making no attempt to eat it.

"I told her it was her decision, even though it killed me. I even drove her to the clinic. I was so happy when she said she'd changed her mind. That she wanted to be a mom," Joel pauses to take a sip of his coffee. "I think she really thought she did at first. Tried her best. She seemed happy when I proposed and we got married just before Sarah got here. I bought us our house. Everything looked good on paper, ya know?"

You nod. 

"Some people just aren't meant to be parents, I think," you say, blinking back tears that have little to do with Sarah.  

Joel agrees with a sad nod. "When she asked for the divorce I wasn't even surprised. She didn't want anything, just a quickie divorce so she could move away. I think we were both just so tired of fighting for something that never existed."

"How old was Sarah?"

"Eight months."

The thought of a helpless invent Sarah floods your brain and a stab of anger for Michelle hits you hard. It makes your stomach clench angrily.

"Do you ever hate her?"

"I don't," Joel says honestly without pause. "I can't. She made me a dad, she gave me Sarah. I just never wanted Sarah growing up feeling like she wasn't wanted. Photos and talks about her Mom seem like a bad idea. "

"What about when she asks?"

"I tell her the truth. That she doesn't have a Mom because she doesn't. Michelle made that very clear, she wants no part of Sarah's life. No pictures, no phone calls, no nothin’.”

You think of tiny Sarah, perfect, sweet Sarah and how she'll always be missing that connection. It infuriates and devastates you in the same breath. 

"Thought it mighta been, uh, that post pardon thing," Joel adds and you don't correct him. "But uh, she went to doctors and shrinks and turns out she wasn't sick in the head, just sick of us."

Despite the neutrality of his tone, that comment feels like a knife to the gut just hearing it. And it’s not even directed at you. More than ever do you understand Joel's inability to bring even a shadow of Michelle's presence into the home. 

But you think of Sarah who feels she's been abandoned. Sarah who thinks her mother found her unworthy.

"Can I offer some unsolicited advice? From one childless woman to a father of five years?" You joke, emboldened when Joel gives you a nod. "Talk about Michelle with her. Hang up a photo or something around here. Because right now I think Sarah feels like she's living with you and a ghost."

"I'll think about it," Joel replies after a beat. He goes to say more but you hear the beep of the taxis horn outside his door.

"My ride’s here," you say standing. Joel follows suit, walking with you to the front door.

You turn to thank him for talking about Michelle with you, but the sight of him so near causes the words to get stuck on your tongue.  In a rush of affection for what he's shared with you tonight you tilt forward to hug him, just a small squeeze to show him that you appreciated his candor. 

However, halfway through the action you become aware of the potential intimacy of such an embrace and you panic. The momentum of your body is still going but you pull your arms back to still the movement.

This results in you smashing your head directly into Joel's sternum before belatedly pulling yourself back with a grimace. 

Joel is searching your face with a crease between his brows, undoubtedly trying to decipher why fuck you just head-butted him out of nowhere. 

You don't give him a chance to ask. You mutter your soft apology before rushing out the door and into the waiting cab. 

////

Working with James is good. He's smart, dedicated to the work, competent and good at what he does. 

Sex with James is decent. He's enthusiastic, competent and tries his best. Sort of.

Dating James. . . Is a holy fucking terror.

It’s Saturday night and you don't know what happened between the start of dinner to now but James has been talking non-stop, gesticulating wildly with his hands while he does. He mentions how much he loves spending time with you and how long he wanted to ask you out for. You blush at this, not only for the flattery but for how loud he’s talking.

He’s spilled his wine glass twice at dinner and now as he sweeps you into the movie theatre to see ‘Brains of the Undead’  he’s laughing at something you’ve said that you’re fairly certain wasn’t all that funny. He pays for your tickets, thrusting the stubs into his pocket.

You glance over at him, noting for the first time tonight that he seems off. Too animated, too agitated. It makes you feel uneasy. So you try to divert your attention to the concession stand where you join the long line has formed.

Popcorn is obviously a must, but then there’s the decision of whether or not to get a movie theatre pickle. You read the sign and mention that they can drain the juice from these pickles for you if you ask.

“What about draining my pickle?” he laughs into your ear, loud enough for the elderly women in front of you to turn around.

“James,” you warn, your face warm. Hot. He just laughs back at you, grabbing your ass before tucking you against him. You push back slightly, not enjoying the suffocation that comes with the action.

Why the fuck did I think I could sleep with James and not have it bite me in the ass? How can I dump this guy? I see him every fucking day at work.

“Gotta hit the washroom,” James sniffs before giving your cheek a peck and stalking off. You watch this before turning your attention back to the snacks in front of you. You debate the merit of Peanut M&M's versus Red Vines for a while, moving up the sluggish line before James reappears, his smile wide.

"Decide on what you want?"

You glance up at him, about to ask his opinion on licorice when something gives you pause. It's not the twitch of his nose, although that definitely doesn't help. Its that this close you can see that James' pale eyes are almost obscured by the dilated black of his pupil. He seems to notice your scrutiny because he wipes at his nose with the back of his hand, solidifying your suspicions.

"Are you high right now?" you ask, nerves creeping all along your skin as realization comes over you.

"A little bump," James shrugs as if doing cocaine in the bathroom of a movie theatre is typical. 

Immediately you feel your body shut down. 

"Right. We're done," you insist without pausing. "I'll call a cab and see you at work next week."

"Excuse me?" James smiling face cracks.

"This isn't going to work," you tell him. "Happy to work with you, but this whole thing with us is over.  I'll see you later."

James is rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. "I don't get it. Can't we just -"

You hear your name being screamed out from behind you and you whirl around to see Sarah running at you full speed. Joel is jogging up behind her, his arm outstretched.

"Sarah! No!"

She slams into your hip, holding you around the stomach and squeezing. You drop to one knee as Joel approaches mouthing "sorry" at you. You wave him off as if it’s not a problem before turning your attention back on Sarah who is playing with the ends of your hair.

"What are you doing here, bug?"

"I just saw Bears Big Adventure" Sarah explains to you excitedly. "I had my own popcorn."

Your eyes dart to Joel standing next to her. He's looking between you and Sarah, his gaze unreadable before moving over your head to glare at James. You can feel James standing behind you, undoubtedly staring down at the back of your head.

"Lucky girl!" you grin, your hands at her waist. "Have you been to the movie theatre before?"

"Nope!" Sarah shouts this giggling madly. Her little sneakers bump against the red carpet as she jumps. "I got red vines too."

"That would explain all the jumping," you laugh. 

"Movie's starting soon," James murmurs from behind you, brushing the back of your head with his fingertips as if you're still on good terms.

"We're not going to the movie, remember?" you say glaring up at him. "So I'm in no rush."

"Is he your boyfriend?" Sarah whispers pointing up at James who is now staring at Joel with an irritated look.

You can't help but burst out in a wheezy laugh. Imagining “James the coke head Co-worker” as your boyfriend just seems amusing in the most terrible way. 

"Why’s that funny?" James asks from above you. Clearly he's heard everything and is not amused.  You stand and twirl to face him, making sure to block Sarah from his view. There’s something in James that makes you wary.

"James, please.”

Joel has gathered Sarah into his arms and you feel his hand on your elbow, startling you. You glance over to see his dark eyes fixed on your face.

“You okay?” his voice is so low it rumbles. You almost think that you can feel its vibrations moving through your own body.

“Yeah,” you assure him and he drops his hand from the crook of your arm.

"Good enough to fuck but not date, is that it?" James is puffing his chest out, his eyes narrowed in anger. He motions to Joel. "You fucking this guy too?"

How didn't you see the signs? They were all there. The volatility, the paranoia, the agitation. You think back to the panic he felt when he saw his desk had been drenched. It wasn’t blueprints he was looking for that morning. It was probably his stash he kept at work.  

"Cool it," you warn. "There's a kid--"

Joel has taken Sarah and moved her over to the arcade. She's still looking over at you but Joel is shoving quarters into a bright game with loud graphics to distract her. 

"What, so you're bad in bed and boring?" James lashes out.  You know that it's rejection that brings this ugly out in him but your cheeks still flame. Some of the theatres are emptying into the lobby, filling it up.  

"Wow James, that cut me real deep," you reply in the flattest of tones. "Well done. You can go now. Maybe your dealer wants to catch a flick."

You're pulling out your cell to call a cab but James is slapping it out of your hands until it falls on the threadbare red carpet. 

"You've never done drugs, is that it?" James scoffs as you pick it up and put it in your purse. "Little Miss Perfect?"

You sigh with a disgusted look in his direction. "James you need to go home. Leave me be. I'll see you at work."

You go to step towards the lobby entrance and leave, but James is following you, his voice loud. 

"It's just coke! Coke doesn't hurt anyone! Just because you don't know how to have fu-"

The sentence isn't even out of his mouth and you've backhanded him. You don't mean to. Your body just spins, your arm outstretched and the feeling of his skin hitting your knuckles overcomes you. The sound snaps through the half full lobby and you immediately rear back, terrified at what you've done as people gasp and start to whisper. 

"Oh fuck, I'm s-sorry."

James holds his jaw in shock, his nose starting to bleed. But if that's from you or the drugs you're not sure. Then you see the split lip and realize that one's gotta be from you. A zing of panic hits your core as James’ lip curls into an angry sneer.

"Fucking bitch."

He stalks away from you without another word. You watch him leave, your legs shaky. Some patrons are watching you and whispering to one another. Others have gone back to walking to theatres with popcorn and drinks in hand. You back up, thinking of another way to exit the theatre. 

"You sure you’re okay?"

Joel is there behind you looking concerned. A large part of you wants to laugh at how horrible this moment is and that he’s there to witness it. But the larger part of you feels that sinking feeling in your gut that tells you to run.

"I'm s-so sorry Sarah saw that. That was so not okay. I'm so -" 

Humiliation takes you over and you shoulder past Joel, aiming to find an alternate exit out of the lobby. You don't get far because Joel has gripping you by the elbow again, urging you to stop. 

"Hey hey, slow down," he insists. "Take a minute to calm down."

"I don't want Sarah to see me like this," you explain swallowing embarrassed tears. "Just gotta call a cab and -"

"She's playing Mario, she doesn't even know we're here," Joel says motioning to her with his chin. 

You look over to see Sarah's attention is indeed focused on a child's game featuring everyone's favorite Italian plumber in the arcade. You give a little sniff, blinking. 

"Did she see?"

"No," Joel shakes his head. "But I did. Nice hit."

You shake your head, disgusted with your actions. "Nothing nice about it."

"From where I was standing a grown man was harassing a woman who was trying to get away from him."

"Yeah well my reaction was out of anger, not fear," you reply. "So it doesn't exactly feel defensive."

Joel's face is rarely expressive, but his eyes are. And right now they're open and reading you. The scrutiny makes you curl into yourself. 

"How're you getting home?" he asks suddenly. 

Your conversation is interrupted by a small Mediterranean man in a white button down and burgundy tie. He's wearing a small gold name tag that says theatre manager and giving you a heavy look. 

"Ma'am I'm gonna need you to leave," he says to you in a voice full of reprimand. "We don't allow violence of any kind in here." 

Your face blooms a bright humiliated red.

"Of course, I'm so sorry," you say flustered. "I'll totally leave right now. I'm so sorry."

You keep repeating this as you make your way to the front doors, too embarrassed to even say goodbye to Joel and Sarah. The manager walks with you the entire way, explaining that you cannot return for a full month. That’s fine by you, after the humiliating moment back there you never want to return again.

You step into the night air, pulling out your phone to call the cab when you see James in the parking lot sitting in his car. He's waiting for you. 

Fuck.

You know that he won’t touch you, won’t chance you screaming or decking him again. But he will try to intimidate you. His mouth is still smeared with red and you feel your skin prickle at the sight.

Just, focus. What’s the cab company again? Or maybe I can just call Maria, but oh fuck is she-

You're taken aback when a large warm hand slides over yours. Joel is there at your side, looking at James in the car and then back at you. Sarah is being held in his free arm, looking at her father tensely. She can tell something is wrong; she's just not quite sure what it is. 

"I'm drivin' you," Joel tells you and there is no room for argument.

Gratitude swells your heart and you nod, tightening your hand around Joel's as he leads you to his truck. James watches you leaving and you hear the squeal of his tires as he speeds off. 

Joel is buckling Sarah into the back car seat and she fights him only a few seconds. The sugar is running through her system and you can see she's getting sleepy. Then Joel comes around to your side, jiggling with the handle.

“Sticks sometimes,” he says before he gives you a head tilt indicating you should get in the front seat. 

Minutes later the truck is rumbling down the street and you're buckled in against the trucks bench seat. Sarah is talking to her toad in soft hushed tones behind you. Joel has put on the radio and some shitty pop is playing through the grainy speakers.

"Had a feeling that guy was trouble," Joel observes after you’ve been driving a short while.

 You keep your eyes on the passing darkened landscape out your window. "You might be the only one. Everyone else thought he was great."

"I know his type," Joel murmurs, his face intermittently illuminated by the headlights of passing cars. "Used to bail Tommy out of jail more than once."

You glance over at him, shocked. "Really?"

Joel nods. "Always for getting into scraps. Mouthing off to the wrong guy.  Hasn't been that way in a few years but yeah, used to be a much bigger pain in my ass."

You can't imagine the sweet Tommy you know now doing stuff like that. Your head falls back against the seat of the car and you sigh as you replay tonight’s events.

"Still can't believe I hit him," you say miserably. "So stupid."

You're leaned against the truck of the door, so that's why you assume when Joel reaches over, his palm lands on your knee because it's the closest part of your body to him 

"You're being really hard on yourself," Joel observes, his thumb stroking the side of your kneecap soothingly. 

You immediately bristle at the unexpected contact. His hand is wide and so warm and you stare at it, not quite sure what to make of it. He sees your eyes fixed on his hand and he brings it back to the wheel at if he's been burnt. 

"I just worry it was an overreaction," you explain in a rush. "What if he calls the cops?”

“He won’t,” Joel assures. “He’d have to tell them why the fight started and last time I checked cocaine possession isn’t exactly legal.”

You feel your body relax a bit at that. That’s right; James wouldn’t go to the cops. But he now had the very obvious option of making your work life a living hell. This thought carries you until Joel has parked in front of Maria’s place, turning off the engine.

You glance behind you to see Sarah completely passed out in her car seat, her little head tilted to the side. Toad is on the seat next to her, just out of grip. You smile at her before glancing over at her dad.

Joel is staring at you, barely illuminated in the darkness. But you can feel the warmth from his gaze. For a moment you muse that for a man who keeps so much of himself hidden, sometimes his eyes give everything away.

For example right now they drop down to your mouth, staring for a beat too long. Your stomach jumps as Joel unbuckles his belt and slides across the bench seat towards you.

Holy fuck.

Joel is gonna kiss you.

His mouth nearing yours. You stay still, your eyes widening as he inches closer until …

…His hand hits the door handle, Twisting and pushing. It opens with a groan and you blink rapidly at Joel. 

"Gets stuck on that side," he reminds you, his warm breath falling over your cheeks. His face is so close you could count every individual eyelash if you wanted to, but then he recedes just as fast. 

"Thanks," you manage in breathy whisper. "I'll uh, I'll see you." 

You fumble with your car seat as Joel’s lips quirk into a smirk. With a frustrated growl you yank it from you before rushing from the truck, your heart pounding all the way back to your suite. 

You pace around the small space going over all that just happened in the last hour, your head swimming. How are you going to face James at work? How are you going to handle babysitting for Joel, now that he just witnessed such an embarrassing display? Your eyes are on the flowers Joel gave you and you find your stomach squirming strangely.

You walk towards your bed, not wanting to think about that. Wanting to delay the inevitable tick and whirl of your brain. You fall backwards into your bed, your eyes closing the minute your head hits your pillow. 

You don’t know how long you’re asleep for when there is a knock at the door. It’s soft yet insistent.  You know it wouldn’t be James – he’s not that stupid. Despite what you assume but be a late hour you pull yourself from bed, shuffling over to the door and pulling it open slowly.

When the door creaks open to show Joel standing on the other side you're not even surprised.

“Joel. Hi.”

His eyes move up the length of your body slowly drinking you in.

He's dressed as he was earlier, only now his hair looks freshly washed. He's half leaning against the door with his arms crossed and he gazes at you with a heated look that says everything you're both unable to admit in words.  

You don't even ask him inside. You launch yourself at his mouth and he brings you into his broad arms as if he's been waiting for you to surrender.

You kiss him deeply, your elbows curling around his neck. You thighs go to wrap around his waist, your ass cupped by his wide hands. He groans as he grips you to him before he walks you into your suite, kicking the door closed behind him. 

He has you on the bed, your knees squeezing into his hips as he grinds against you. He's kissing you with the fever of a man consumed, his hands fumbling with the button and zipper of your jeans before pulling them down and off. Your panties are thrust to the side and his fingers splay over your sex without hesitation. 

"Need to fuck you," he groans in your ear, rubbing and curling his fingers within you. "But you gotta come on my fingers first.”

"Yes," you gasp, arching into him at the pleasurable pressure. Your own hand slides under his the bands of his jeans and boxers to find him already warm and hard. You grip him there tugging gently. 

Joel hisses against your mouth before he begins bucking into your hand. His fists are twisted in the sheets next to your head, his hips rolling as your hand strokes him, your thighs clenching in response to his delightful fingers. 

"Fuck that's good," he rasps against your jaw. "Shouldn't feel this good."

"Yes it should," you tell him as his mouth begins to move downwards, slipping over your clothed breasts. He's moving his hips faster now, his groans coming out in sharp little huffs.

"Gonna make me come."

"I want you to," you moan, tilting your mouth to meet his once more. "Please. Please!"

"Please what?"

You jerk awake with a muffled snort, the corner of your mouth damp. Maria is sitting across from you at her table, both of you dressed in pyjamas. 

"Huh?"

The sound of morning birds outside the bright window jerk you out of your daze and you take a moment to register that you’re in Maria’s kitchen. A plate of flapjacks is in front of you, along with a half-drunk coffee. You came up here a while ago to tell her about your horrible date.

"We were in the middle of talking about what happened with James last night. I went to pour myself more coffee and I think you fell asleep?" Maria is looking at you with a raised brow.  "You started saying please over and over. You okay?"

Jesus.

You can’t tell her you’ve just startled yourself from a sex dream with her boyfriend’s brother. You can’t admit that Joel’s comfort last night had been attractive to you in a way your body understood better than your brain. Instead you force a shaky smile around your coffee mug.

“Just tired, I guess.”

#something to fight for #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #dad joel miller #joel miller #pedro pascal #a03 #bill and frank #frank and bill #lgbt characters

[overtake]

every time i remember that gifset of daniel laughing and talking pre-race with max and his dad in spa 2014 and realize that max saw daniel win his third race and red bull's 50th race live and IN PERSON....like daniel must have seemed so cool and larger than life. and then come to find out a few weeks later it's max's test and he had made a welcome video for him. like...it's too much they're TOO MUCH.

This response got ludicrously long.

It’s such “fated to be in each other’s lives forever” shit. It’s always been Max and Daniel. In 2011, before Max was even a red bull junior. In 2014 at spa, ahead of Max being announced for toro rosso. In video form at his super license drive, when Max being his future teammate wouldn’t have even been thought in Daniel’s mind. The things Max got to see Daniel achieve and dream that he might have that and more, and the hot guy doing it is paying attention to him.

He wins that race and backs him, saying he couldn’t have done what he’s about to do and saying Max has the talent to be there… I just know it was good to hear that the man you just watched on the podium believes you deserve this oppprtunity. And if he wasn’t ready at your age and is sitting in front of you a three time winner, what can you achieve by his age?

Obviously, Max has never needed other people’s validation on his skill. He knew he could be successful and had no issue staring his naysayers down. He’s a cactus, not a delicate orchid. You cannot kill him. Your opinions mean nothing to him if you are not in his inner circle (though Daniel certainly worked his way into being someone whose opinion Max holds, hears, and values).

But still, it has to be nice to hear back then that there are people with achievements you want who believe you’re capable of getting there. Even the most brave-faced sixteen year old (with a father who tries to toughen his emotional resolve by saying he will never be anything more than a truck driver) still appreciates having someone believe in him, even if he doesn’t need the validation.

I think people tend to wrongly characterize young Max as some delicate friendless loser and Daniel was the only person to ever show him kindnesses etc etc etc. Max is extremely confident and never relied on Daniel to build self-worth or whatever pathetic way people try to write him. But he always just glowed around him — textbook of that first crush that makes you have the italics “oh. oh” moment. It’s very apparent that Daniel meant a lot to Max as a teammate and that the two of them just liked being around each other, such an anomaly for that era of f1 (ex: like they mentioned in on the sofa 2017, Lewis, — who had been busy with the life altering downfall of his relationship with Nico — was in awe of Max and Daniel and asked for the scholarship of how they got along so well).

It’s so clear that this draw between them started for Max so early from just the way he looks at Daniel on that phone, shy and not knowing quite what to say, and his gaze lingering on it even after it stops playing with that smile. He has to tear his attention away to say his sweet little praise of Daniel. Daniel respected Max as a serious competitor from day one with his quotes about Max’s talents, and that already meant something to Max — but then he also went ahead and liked Max and was kind to Max in a time where he was drenched in doubters.

It’s a great tragedy that we will never know what it would’ve been like to see the two of them in a car that could compete for championships. Obviously tensions would have altered their relationship (I mean, the Renault engine frustration and natural increase in rivalry as it became Max’s team already meant their relationship improved post-leaving), but I’m going to be delusional and think that they never could have hated each other in that bone-deep way because they like each other in a way that is so natural that it feels encoded in their DNA.

Things would have gotten messy as competitive battles do, with many a wall punched and inflammatory quotes in the media pen — especially as Daniel would have to reckon with the inevitability of Max being a generational talent whose already sharp elbows in their early days only doled out more hits on the road to WDC. It’d be claws out, teeth bared tension.

Still, I employ my delusion to say that in that universe, at the end of their careers, they could sit on Daniel’s farm and still enjoy being around each other — like Daniel said in 2019, they had a heated rivalry and pushed each other, but there was always respect. At the end of the day, Max has never stopped looking at Daniel outside the track with anything but effusive love, and Daniel is always there looking back with his mouth open and ready to make Max laugh — and I genuinely believe they would have cared enough about each other to keep their fight contained to the environment and time period and rebuild anything lost when it’s all said and done.

It’s the eternal thesis of them, that everyone has said a million times over: they like each other so much, so genuinely, without a veneer of fakeness and PR to it. They’d like each other in any universe in any conditions, even ones where they were built to hate each other. There could still be fighting and resentment and cold shoulders, but they are not built to hate each other, and that’s why I like them so much.

#ask #i wrote this in the shower and it’s been the world’s longest shower #so sorry to the environment #maxiel

[suzukiblu]

Day twelve of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

Tim waits until the next morning, after their latest Young Justice sleepover has both occurred and concluded, and catches Kon while Cissie is bullying Bart away from the pancake mix and taking over the kitchen for her and Cassie to make everyone breakfast. It’s their turn, which is for the best; last time was Kon and Suzie, and they’d absolutely wrecked the kitchen before finally confessing that Kon had never actually cooked before and Suzie didn’t know if she knew how to. 

Breakfast had been Pop-Tarts and it’d taken them two hours to clean up the kitchen. Tim had just decided not to ask questions, at that point. 

“I’ve got a summary of the intel you asked for,” Tim says, holding out his single-page “report” for Kon, tucked nice and neat into a manilla folder. Kon looks startled. 

“Huh?” he says, blinking down at the folder. 

“I looked into Tim Drake,” Tim clarifies. “Long story short, you’re in the clear. His grades are stable, his disciplinary record isn’t concerning, and his psychological profile falls within acceptable parameters. His mother passed away a couple years ago, but his father just got remarried and he and the stepmother aren’t involved in anything shady, there’s no other relatives or criminal associates on record, and the family business’s practices are only a little morally dubious, which in Gotham is practically sainthood, frankly. Maybe don’t accept any unsourced archeological finds from him if it comes up, but otherwise you should be good. Go ahead and make friends.” 

“Uh, right,” Kon says, a brief flash of embarrassment crossing his face as his ears redden. “Friends. Yeah. Uh–you seriously checked him out to Bat-standards that quick, though? Geez, man, you didn’t have to do that. I coulda waited a couple weeks.” 

“Just rearranged a little casework that wasn’t time-sensitive anyway,” Tim replies, repressing a wince. Maybe he should’ve padded the time a little more on this. He doesn’t want Kon to think he wasn’t taking his request seriously. “Also, he’s a civilian high school student with exactly two family members and a fairly small friend group. There weren’t a lot of rabbit holes to go down.” 

“I guess not,” Kon says, looking awkwardly at the folder for a moment before pushing it back towards him. “Uh. I don’t need to, like . . . read that or anything. If you say he’s good, I mean.” 

“You don’t?” Tim asks, a little mystified. Kon looks embarrassed again. 

“It’s weird enough asking for a background check on a dude who’s apparently just trying to be nice,” he says. “I’m not gonna read it if there’s nothing I actually need to know.” 

Tim blinks, still more mystified, though he’s not sure if it’s Kon turning down perfectly-presented intel on a stranger or Kon trusting his opinion enough to turn down that intel that’s doing it. 

“Okay,” he says. “If you’re sure.”

“Uh, yeah. You really didn’t have to rush it, though,” Kon says, still looking embarrassed; tucking a loose curl of hair behind his ear in incredibly distracting fashion that Tim has to struggle to not be distracted by with limited success. “Like–it’s cool of you, but I really could’ve waited a couple weeks. Like, he’s probably not gonna go full mask-off supervillain day one at the mall, you know?” 

“I had the time,” Tim says, still feeling a little odd. “And it’s better to know before you spend too much time around him anyway, isn’t it?” 

Also, better to know so Tim can progress on bribing Kon out of his shitty lab-life and into a cute little cul-de-sac somewhere. Or an apartment building. Or an apartment block. 

“I guess, yeah,” Kon says, his face inexplicably reddening. “Um. Yeah. Uh. Thanks, Rob.”

Then he zips off abruptly without another word, and Tim is left mildly bewlidered and looking at the empty space he was just standing in. 

“. . . you’re welcome,” he says after a moment, no less bewildered, and puts the report away. 

He doesn’t really get Kon as a person, sometimes, but at least this is another step forward on the plan. He still needs to talk it all out with him as Tim Drake and work him up to it, because even Kon’s very weird socialization clearly still thinks it’s kinda strange for somebody to just offer to rent an apartment for him out of the blue, but then again, maybe that’s just because he thought Tim might be a supervillain. Which Tim still isn’t, technically. He’s like, a proto-supervillain at best. And only when it comes to bank fraud and pre-planning, because if he’s learned anything from Bruce at all, it’s that being the most prepared person in a situation absolutely always pays off. 

Maybe he can get Kon to quit Cadmus completely, if he plays his cards right here. He’ll start with a place that Kon can commute from, or at least by pretending they’re looking for a place that Kon can commute from. Maybe Cadmus would actually fucking pay him more than a pittance and an expense account, then, and Kon could save up a little. Tim should look into what the other field agents get, actually, though chances are “free room and board” is probably on most of their paychecks too, since Cadmus more than likely made most of them too. 

Fucking shitty asshole cloning labs. 

Maybe Tim should actually bribe some lobbyists the next time clones’ rights come up in legislation. Or just as soon as he has Kon safe and settled and secure outside of Cadmus, whichever comes first. That would definitely be a good use of his trust fund. 

Or just all of Drake Industries’ profits for that quarter, depending on how effectively he can distract his dad for said quarter. 

Tim’s a reasonably resourceful person. He could work something out. 

Also, clones’ rights implies getting Cadmus potentially shut down or at least more closely monitored, and maybe conning Superman into paying back child support for being irresponsible with his DNA. An incredibly powerful alien specifically primed for the local environment absolutely should’ve known better than to not have something arranged in case of his death besides just letting someone bury him, of all things. Incredibly stupid idea on his part, frankly. Isn’t there an AI running the Fortress of Solitude, to say nothing of all the androids? He absolutely could’ve set up a failsafe to come collect his body and lock down the Fortress once it was inside. Not a perfect solution, obviously, but definitely a better one than “let Metropolis just do whatever they feel like”. 

Much better, in Tim’s opinion. 

Seriously. Kryptonians are basically invasive predators on Earth. Superman absolutely should’ve known better than to leave his own dead body lying around. Frankly, Tim’s disappointed in Bruce for that one. He really should’ve had a talk with Superman about that particular oversight before Kon even happened. Not that Tim’s complaining about Kon existing, but Kon is basically the best-case scenario they could’ve gotten out of that. What if somebody’d possessed Superman’s empty body? What if they’d stripped it for parts and made a whole army of Supermen? What if any fucking number of things had happened? 

There’d better be something in place now, is all Tim’s gonna say. 

. . . maybe he’ll set up a high-yield savings account for any potential future Kon 2.0’s, just in case Superman decides to be stupid again. Just make monthly deposits and let it all collect interest. Tim’s not ready to be a clone-dad, but he can get the groundwork going. 

Hell, maybe he’ll make a Kon 2.0 one day. 

. . . that is an insane person thought, Tim recognizes. And way farther down along the supervillain pipeline than he wants to be right now. 

Still, Kon’s a hybrid, so he’s probably infertile, right? Which means if he ever wants to have kids or anything, he’d need–

Oh god, Tim thinks, and immediately hides his bright red face behind his fake summary of his own life story. Okay. New thought processes. New thoughts. New . . . everything, at this point. New all-the-things. 

He’s sixteen, he reminds himself accusingly. There is absolutely nothing about the idea of Kon with a little Kryptonian-ish baby that should appeal to him at all at this stage in his life. 

Just, well, his inner future supervillain apparently has a thing for punk telekinetic DILFs, he guesses. 

Well, given the timeline he’s intending to go supervillain on–

If Tim ever meets a telepath, he thinks he should probably just quit, actually. Like, for good. There is no possible way it wouldn’t end in absolute mortification. 

Oh god, Dubbilex is a telepath, isn’t he. Tim is never going to be able to be in the same room with the man again without employing every possible meditation technique he knows, because otherwise his brain is just going to be screaming about what Kon looks like soaked in Kool-Aid with his hair slicked back. Or how he smirks when he’s flirting with a civilian stranger at a café. Or the mental image of him in a crop top and Daisy Dukes version of his superhero costume, ngh–

Tim can definitely just never be in the same room with Dubbilex again. Or Martian Manhunter. Or maybe just anyone. 

Dammit.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #rinfic #wip: obligatory sugar baby kon #long post

[alwaysonf1]

another hamilton?

Pairing: Charles LeClerc x Hamilton!OC

Genre: Slice of Life; Fluff

Word Count: 2.2k

Warning: Changes in the timeline for the sake of the story.

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: N/A

The van rolls to a stop in a packed parking lot. And despite the buffer of the vehicle and the music playing inside of it, the noise from the stadium is loud and clear. 

“Are we late?” Alex asks.

Lewis smiles, shaking his head.

“No. We’re a little early actually.”

There are clearly more questions everyone wants to ask, but before anyone can voice them a producer opens one of the doors and beckons them out. All six of them pile out of the vehicle quickly. Despite Lewis confirming they have some time there’s still some uncertainty with how loud it is in there if the game hasn’t started yet.

At least they think it’s a game. Like the last four episodes filmed they were told where they'd be going and not who they were seeing and what the first sighting would be. Some of the guys only have one sibling or only one really comfortable with the limelight so it was easy to guess. But with Lewis all of this was beyond confusing.

The seven time champion didn’t usually involve himself in something of this level, so when he walked into the planning meeting for this thing it threw everyone off. Once they got past that the assumption was that it would be Nicolas. While the world knew of Lewis’ other siblings, they didn’t seem the type to agree to this.

Then they were given the destination of Baton Rouge, Louisiana.

Daniel asked a million and one questions after that reveal and no one who had the information would give it to him. The man’s charm didn’t beat out their willingness to keep it all a secret so everyone could maintain some level of surprise. As if they didn’t have enough.

Charles is so in his own head about what the hell they’re walking into, that it takes a moment - and the shouting of his name - to notice that everyone is already several feet ahead of him. He jogs up to catch them and keeps his focus on what’s happening in the moment, there’s no need for him to anticipate too much of what could be coming next. 

They walk through the parking lot for a while and then turn down a path that puts them at what looks like the back of the venue. The area gives the weird sketchy vibes that you get from being late night at a track, even with all the sound going on.

At a door stands a Black woman who Charles imagines he’d be into if older women were his thing. When she smiles, he’s debating making an exception. She has curly dark hair tinged with gray and her shirt says Human Jukebox, which only serves to further confuse Charles and Carlos, who’s eyes meet his.

“Hello,” the woman says, her voice cheerful.

“Hey, Sherri,” Lewis says.

They both move forward and embrace each other, when they pull away, she places a gentle kiss to his cheek.

“Where are my manners? Hello, young men. I’m Sherri Jones. It's nice to meet y’all.”

There is a chorus of greetings from everyone, and they each take a turn trying to shake Sherri’s hand, only to end up being pulled into a hug. When she gets to Charles he simply goes for the hug, and it draws a laugh from her.

“Well, I’m glad y’all could make it here. We have a little time before things get started, but we should…”

Silence falls and trumpets fill the air, then drums. A flurry of other instruments join the mix and they do so seamlessly. The song isn’t one Charles can pinpoint, but it sounds good.

Sherri winces. “It seems the Jukebox is starting up. We better get in there before we have to fight for a spot to watch them play.”

It’s a marching band. 

Though this is not at all something that he’s especially familiar with, Charles has seen the wonders that are marching bands in the US. After watching Beyonce’s Coachella set, he even went through a small phase where he wanted so many of his unreleased songs to feature a similar vibe from it. But there’s a reason it’s unreleased.

Everyone files through the door and after a few twists and turns they walk through a shaded tunnel. At the end there’s a field clear as day

On the back of the shirt Charles catches a glimpse of the words ‘Mom of a Doll.’ And though he now has the answer to what the front means, he’s even more interested in finding out what the back entails.

When they emerge, the lights are a bit blinding, but he adjusts quickly. The sounds they’ve heard since arrival, become much clearer. And the packed parking lot feels not so packed when he sees the stands filled to the brim with people. 

He notes that the crowd is predominantly Black, which leads to the quick guess that this is an HBCU. Another thing he knows of, but not much about. 

What he does know is that the energy in the place is infectious and he finds his body moving along with the band. Who stands in the stands not far from where they enter. 

As they approach the benches and lawn chairs right in front of the band - put not in the stands - they seamlessly switch to a song that feels deeply familiar, but he can’t quite name.

Though he probably can’t name it because the moment they get in front of the bench, which has a reserved marker on it for them, he notices women draped in capes walking with an elegance he can’t comprehend and so in sync that all he can think about is when he watches a race back and sees them warming tires during a formation lap.

The women fill out the four rows that are unoccupied in front of the band in a staggered formation. Only one sits in the very front row, and it piques his interest.

Charles leans toward whoever is on his left and whispers yells, “What is going on?” 

“I have no idea, but I’m into it,” Daniel says.

Out of the corner of his eye he can see the other drivers - minus Lewis - nodding in agreement. Lewis is actually standing a bit further up, with a wide smile, and staring intently. Charles steps forward to stand directly next to him and Sherri.

Excitement brews within him as he watches as each row shrug off the cape and take a seat in a domino effect. Their sparkly light blue outfits remind him of the leotards gymnasts wear and it’s a brow raising moment. He knows they aren’t going to do anything of that danger level in a location they’re in, but he can’t imagine what. Until his brain yet again goes back to Beychella.

Again, the band transitions to another song, also familiar to him, but all his brain power is on taking in what’s happening with Lewis. He’s not so sure he’s ever seen the man this happy or at least not in this way. Though he would be lying if he said he didn’t notice some of the same emotion in him now as when he’s congratulating Charles for being up on the podium.

That gets the brain turning as he remembers why they’re there in the first place, but out of the corner of his eye he sees movement in front of them.

Who he assumes is the leader slowly stands up and all eyes move to her, including his. Her brown skin is glowing, her long hair moves with her, and Charles can’t help but see how tall and long she looks, as well as the curves of her body. She’s beautiful and he can only see two thirds of her face because of the way an overhead light flashes in his.

The beat drops and she makes a sharp movement that sends her upper half down low at an angle and as she comes up her hands glide up her long leg. Each move after is just as sharp, but also fluid. She body rolls once, then again, before the next row joins. In unison they go through the routine and once the second time is done, she stops and takes a seat, kicking her leg high before crossing it over the other.

Again, like the domino effect the other rows go. Each performing twice before taking their seat the same way she did.

She doesn’t even look back to ensure that the last person is down before she rises again, arms floating into the air as she dances. She gives a spin, and her hips move in a way that makes it clear she’s at ease with what she’s doing. That it’s almost a second nature for her. 

Each movement is sensual, but in that way that entrances you, not makes you feel like a pervert for staring too hard. Though Charles does feel a little bit like one.

Just like before she takes a seat and as the last person takes her seat, her leg lifts a little more dramatically than the others, the music changes and so does the energy in the stadium. Yelling gets louder and Lewis is bouncing on his toes.

A more intense expression takes hold, and she starts the routine just as she had before, but when she comes up the sequence is different. It’s longer. And Charles feels himself take in the hype and looks to the others to see the same. Even Lance, who tends to be more reserved in public and on camera, like they are now.

The domino starts, but they all keep going until everyone has done it twice and then without missing a beat she switches to another routine. Though Charles is still unsure of what this is, he can tell that these aren’t connected in any way other than she’s made the choice to do it and the others are following her lead.

Each new one maintains its beauty, but something about it feels like a battle.

“Ooo, they’re going to throw the new one. I saw a little of them practicing it last week,” someone behind him says.

The leader turns her back to them, the band somehow gets louder, and then in the most intense of the routines yet she begins and this one is longer than the others. The moves aren’t complicated per se, but they're definitely the kind that you mess up just by lacking the musicality and the level of aggression that’s just right for it.

She does her run through, and all the girls join in. They all give it the same energy as she did, in fact Charles in awe of how they all ramp it up. It’s something he can’t imagine articulating. 

“You better!”

“Come on, Kayla.”

“Show them how it’s done, Dolls!”

“That’s my girl. Show out, Kierra!”

“That’s my baby!” Sherri says, drawing Charles attention.

Lewis cups his hands around his mouth. “Let’s go, Iman!”

Reality hits Charles, he once again remembers their purpose. Who they’re there to see. And while there is no indication from Sherri or Lewis who they’re screaming for, the smile that graces the one up front makes it clear. He stares at her in a way he didn’t before, and he sees the mix of Sherri and Lewis in her face. She’s her own person, but she definitely looks like both of them.

It’s the type of thing that makes someone feel like they could be knocked off their feet by it, even if it’s a little dramatic.

Lewis Hamilton has a college age little sister. One that radiates a similar energy and passion that her older brother brings to the track. One whose smile has Charles feeling some type of way, though he refuses to dwell on it.

Shock still gripping him he turns to look at the others and they’re equally gob smacked by it. And their camera man is getting every second of it. 

“He has another sister?” Carlos asks.

“That’s his sister?” From Lance.

“She’s so good. Like I don’t fully know what you’d call this, but it’s fucking good,” says Daniel.

Alex nods in agreement.

“Yes, it is,” Charles whispers.

When Charles turns his head back, he sees the cocky smirk on Lewis’ face and the pride is still their clear as day.

“Y’all haven’t seen anything yet,” he says.

There is no way to know what he means by that, partially because he turns his attention back to Iman where he yells more words of encouragement and because so does Charles. The girls wind down, and the domino is going in the opposite direction. It gets to Iman, and she throws in more body rolls then the routine calls for, earning more yelling, and then she sits, throwing her leg up, and then lowering it slowly.

Screams fill the stadium like never before and a smirk forms on her lips as she throws her hair over her shoulder. She smiles at her mother and brother, then she looks to the other drivers and winks.

It’s something they talk about during the game in a spur of the moment group chat Daniel makes that doesn’t include Lewis, for reasons that include fear of the man - despite nothing out of line being said. And a few of them gather in Charles’ hotel room with Arthur, and a couple other drivers, on Facetime to talk about it.

They’re enthralled and it’s a miracle nothing leaks.

And just like the information the drivers got, the title of the episode will be vague, but after they play the routine and the men’s reactions it says something like: Introducing Iman Hamilton. Secret Sibling and Captain of Southern University’s Dancing Dolls.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x black!reader #f1 x reader #f1 x black!reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 x black!reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fan fiction #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 imagine #formula one x oc #formula 1 x oc #charles leclerc x oc

[bitbugbites-re]

𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚎 | 𝔩𝔢𝔬𝔫 𝔨𝔢𝔫𝔫𝔢𝔡𝔶 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

Your husband, Leon, seems to love being a new father. He also seems to love the new territories that come along with it -- such as trying the milk you produce.

a03 link

word count: ~2.1k

gender: fem! reader

cw: NSFW, FLUFF // dilf! leon, married life, lactation kink, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, you and leon have a baby // ktober

a/n: "hey have u started studying for the midterms?" no but I did write a lactation kink fic. thanks for asking!

p.s. -- no black bar this time because it picks up like. literally right away

“C’mon,” he purred, his stubble rubbing up against your naked thigh as he stared up at you, grinning. “Just a little taste?”

You stared at your husband with a raised brow and a small smirk, amused by his suggestion. He wanted to try some of your breast milk, and you weren’t quite sure how you felt about that.

It hadn’t been long since you had given birth to your and his child, a healthy baby boy, who resembled Leon a lot more than he’d care to admit. The two of you were pretty happy with the birth of your son, elated that you were able to start a family together – and while all the early morning screams and consistent diaper changes were tough, neither of you regretted a thing. Especially Leon.

In fact, for some reason, he seemed to be newly invigorated in more ways than one. Not only was he eager to spend time with your child, but he was also becoming more proactive with household duties as well. Not that he hadn’t done it before – he’d take out the trash, clean up after himself, and cook when you asked him to, but now, he was more aggressive about it. You spent the entire day cleaning? Go ahead and kick your feet up on the couch, Leon’s got dinner handled; Your back hurts from sleeping wrong? Don’t worry about watching the baby, Leon took the day off; You have an unexplainable craving for pumpkin pie? Leon’s already on his way to the grocery store. You weren’t sure why this sudden change came about, but you weren’t complaining either. You’d heard a lot of stories from friends whose husbands became totally unhelpful after the birth of their kid, so you were glad that the same thing didn’t happen with Leon. 

Although, no matter how grateful you were that he wasn’t a deadbeat, you still weren’t sure why he was suddenly so enthusiastic to help out. You figured that, psychologically speaking, there had to be a reason for it. You just weren’t sure what it was – although, you did figure that it probably had something to do with him wanting to have a family of his own, considering how he lost his at a young age. Either way, it didn’t matter – you were just glad he was being both a good husband and a good father.

“Why? It’s technically baby food. It’s not sweetened or processed – it might not taste good.” you softly chuckled, watching as he spread one of your legs before pushing his head against it. He then began kissing the inside of your thigh, making eye contact as he did so. You petted his head, running your fingers through his hair in response.

“I don’t care,” he mumbled, his voice laced with lust. Leon then placed the hand opposite of the one he used to spread your leg onto your calf, cupping it, before running it up and over to your knee. It then traveled over your thigh, caressing it back and forth as Leon’s kisses started to grow closer and closer to your core. Suddenly, you felt him flatten his tongue against the inner fat of your leg, licking a small stripe up it. “I’ll trade ‘ya.”

You giggled, your face growing hot. “Trade me what? You gonna lick up my whole leg, or something?”

“No,” he spoke, his voice deep. “I’m gonna lick something else.”

You shut your mouth after that, losing the words to speak. Well, you thought, it’s good to know that even after having a baby with him, the passion in the bedroom won’t be dying down any time soon.

He kissed, licked, and sucked all the way until his nose and mouth were centered at your clit. His hands now rested at your kneecaps, and he looked up at you before speaking. “It’s a deal?”

You blushed, biting the inside of your cheek, narrowing your brows at him, thinking before speaking. “...Yes. It’s a deal.”

He said nothing in reply, clearly very serious about what he was doing, as usually he would crack a corny one-liner. But he didn’t.

He moved his hands slowly from your knees to your hips, dipping his thumbs under the lining of your panties before withdrawing them from your body. He slid them all the way down your legs before placing one hand under your heel, lifting it, and helping you step out of the underwear as you continued to sit on the bed.

Once they were fully off, he tossed your panties across the room, watching them as they flung. Somehow, they landed on an adhesive wall clip that you had been planning to use for a hanging potted plant, and you eyed Leon as he raised a brow, seemingly impressed with himself for unintentionally getting the article to dangle from an object. You swore you heard him whisper out a small “nice” as he pecked his way back up your leg and to your crotch, although you weren’t 100% sure.

Finally, he began to do what you were waiting for. He kissed the area above your clit where your folds start, teasing you, knowing that it would be sensitive for you, but not quite as sensitive as if he placed his lips on your sweet spot. Leon then ran his warm hands up your slightly cold body, and before you knew it, he was pulling you by the hips, into his face. 

You felt his tongue lick at you in a multitude of different directions, and at one point, you swore he was spelling something. You wanted to ask, your guess being that it was the word “mine,” but your mind was so focused on the wet, warm, tingling feeling down below, that you missed the opportunity while trying to stifle the moans growing in your throat. 

Leon continued to lap at you, dipping the wet muscle in and out of your hole occasionally while also alternating between sucking at your clit. He knew exactly what he was doing, and after a while, you started to get close to reaching your orgasm. 

You huffed repeatedly, desperate for air as you hooked a leg around his wide back, pulling him closer into you. As you did, his nose drove right up into your sensitive spot, which resulted in him mumbling something into you, his breath brushing up inside your private area.

God, you thought, I don’t know if I can hold on for much longer.

He worked with his tongue for a little while longer before you began to cum, gripping him by the shoulder of his shirt. You were practically heaving him into you, although he didn’t seem to mind. You felt the heat at your clit take over, an electric shock of a climax rising over you as you rode his face, grinding your hips up against him as you panted.

Once you finally calmed down, catching your breath, you felt him pull back, the cold air washing over your core. It was a stark contrast as compared to when Leon’s head was hitched between your legs.

You watched as your husband began to stand, towering over you, wiping his mouth with his forearm. He then picked you up by your sides, where your ribs are, lightly bouncing you further back onto the bed before crawling over you. Leon placed his head between your neck and your shoulder, his hair tickling you slightly. “So. Ready to hold up your end of the bargain?”

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes, smiling. You lightly pushed him back by his shoulder, so that he now sat with your knees in between his spread ones. Pulling your shirt over your head, you revealed your chest, looking down at it, noticing that your bra was lightly stained with a splotch of leaking breast milk. “Oh, perfect,” you said sarcastically. Leon only grinned, not seeming to mind the now-dirty undergarment.

It didn’t take long for him to begin unclasping your bra, which he had gotten pretty good at during your time together as a couple. He could now do it with one hand, which unsurprisingly enough, seemed to impress him more than you.

Once the top undergarment was off, he hovered himself over you, placing one hand on your waist to pull you into him as he hung his head low and took your nipple into his mouth. His other hand rested on your opposite breast, cupping it as he squeezed and played with it softly. You gasped at the sensation, and soon enough, you felt him begin to suck at your nipple, the warm liquid seeping out semi-steadily. As soon as he had enough of your milk in his mouth in order to have tasted it properly, a hum escaped his lips. He seemed to like it.

After a couple more minutes of this, he delicately laid you down flatly on the bed and began unbuttoning his pants, his manhood bulging through his black briefs as he revealed them. You then watched as he pulled back, some of your breast milk spilling out of the corner of his mouth as he tugged his shirt over his head. His toned chest was on full display now, and you swore to yourself that you fell in love with him all over again.

Leon leaned back down into you, kicking his pants and underwear off, his cock springing up and hitting against his belly button. You were glad you had a husband who was as big as he was because otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to be in awe every time he pulled himself out of the clothes that restrained him.

You placed your hands on the mountains and curves of his firm shoulders, squeezing them lightly as his lips returned to one of your breasts. A couple of seconds later, Leon removed his mouth with a pop! and spread your legs, placing himself between them. He then took hold of his thick and slightly irritated-looking member, lining it up at your hole. You watched him with eyes full of desperation, your breath hitching as he finally pushed himself in. He groaned at the feeling of himself inside of you before leaning down over you, pressing his chest into yours. Breast milk continued to leak out of your nipples, innocently, and you were sure you felt some rub off onto Leon as his body consumed yours.

You then hiked your legs around his hips, feeling him grind into you the way he knows you like. Leon seemed satisfied with your action, smirking and chuckling through broken breaths as he looked into your eyes while pumping his cock in and out of your core. You grinned back, soft haa’s and hmm’s escaping your lips as you did so.

Eventually, Leon began to speed up his pace, rocking his hips into you with a desperation that only turned you on even more than you already were. The sounds of the bed creaking wildly filled the room, along with the sounds of his skin smacking against yours. You knew for sure, that the two of you wouldn’t be able to last much longer.

Leon’s head drooped down next to your neck, and he shakily whispered into your ear with that deep voice of his, “I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum.”

The desirous tone of his voice sent shockwaves through your body, you shivering a little at the velvety nature of his words and panting breaths. You then yelped out a moan as he suddenly thrust up into your G-spot, likely accidentally, and you could feel yourself begin to unravel then and there. You clutched onto him with all your might, smacking his shoulder to let him know you were cumming, shutting your eyes as you began to feel pleasure overtake all your sensitive regions; your clit, your core, your nipples.

Leon lost himself in you shortly after, his cock rutting up into you in an unstable, unpatterned manner. You felt his seed pour into you in warm spurts, still lightly lurching his waist into you as he rode out his high. You listened as his throaty groans and deep whines spilled from his mouth, trying to catch your breath as you did so. Soon enough, both of you had came and were desperately trying to get enough air in your lungs to breathe normally.

Leon pulled out of you, throwing himself down next to you, taking your hand in his. You turned to look at him, watching as his chest rose and fell with heavy inhales and exhales. A couple of seconds later, he felt your stare and turned his head to look at you, grinning.

“Did you feel me spell something earlier, when I was going down on ‘ya?” he asked, rubbing his thumb in circles on your hand. You simply nodded in response, too exhausted to speak.

“It was ‘mine.’ I spelled ‘mine.’”

For the official and original Kinktober 23 prompts, check here. Credits to @kinktober2023 for the ideas!

#leon #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon smut #leon fluff #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy fluff #leon x reader #leon x you #leon x y/n #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon resident evil #leon death island #smut #fluff #resident evil #resident evil smut #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy fic #leon kennedy oneshot #resident evil fluff #leon fanfic #fanfic #re fanfic #re fandom #oneshot #resident evil death island #leon scott kennedy

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 3: Why don’t we try to actually get our shit together?

You and Joel come up with a plan. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 2, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Some mild diet talk, no explicit mention of reader's weight or size (beyond she is smaller than Joel but my Joels are all giant, OK? Joel is like 6'5" Joel is a big big man, big big man). Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 5K

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“Sir, I can’t just… Well, I understand that you say that but…” 

Amanda, the sophomore girl who worked the front desk of the English department offices, frowned, phone clutched against her head. 

“I understand that,” she said again. “But she’s a special case, Professor…” She flinched and glanced up to see you coming in, looking relieved. “Sir? Give me just one second and I can check…” She pressed the hold button and lowered the receiver. “Professor, I am so so sorry, I know we’re not supposed to send unexpected calls or emails through to you but do you know a Joel Miller? He’s insisting he’s a friend of yours and…” 

You raised your eyebrows before answering. 

“Yeah, I know Joel. Go ahead and transfer him back to my office. And if he ever gives you a hard time again, tell him to fuck off.” 

Amanda looked relieved and took Joel off hold as you went to the end of the hall and unlocked your door. You didn’t have to share an office like a few other people in your department. One of the perks, you imagined, of being a big name that got the university some attention. But you hadn’t done much with the space yet, the only thing on the wall a framed poster that the dean had waiting for you when you started there. 

Your phone rang just as you set down your bag and you picked it up, tucking it against your shoulder. 

“Yes, what do you want, I’m busy being very famous and important,” you said with a slight English accent. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize best selling authors were such a hot commodity,” Joel said. “Should I make an appointment?” 

“Probably,” you replied. He snorted. “What’s up?” 

“Did you know that you tried to put your number in my phone the other night?” Joel asked. “Note that I say ‘tried’ because what you actually did was put something in my notes that has four numbers and then seven symbols which, if you’re counting, ain’t even the right number of digits.” 

You scoffed. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t change your passcode or set an alarm for 4:30 in the morning,” you said. “Sounds like you got off easy.” 

“You’re a menace.” 

“I know,” you said, smiling a little to yourself. “So why were you looking for my number on a Monday morning?” 

“Because I was looking for your number on a Sunday morning and ended up shit outta luck,” he replied. “Figured I could catch you at work. They got you all locked down over there, huh?” 

“Trying to discourage random readers from contacting me here is all,” you said. “There was a problem with that at Brown right when the book first got popular. I don’t think it’d be as much of a problem now but still, administration thought it was smart. Speaking of which, don’t be a shit to my office aide.” 

“Makes sense, I guess,” he said, ignoring your last comment. “Think you can put me on the list of people who are allowed to talk to you? And on the list of people who are allowed to bring you food?” 

“Bring me food?” You frowned. 

“Well, yeah,” he said. “I was hoping I could do that. Like… today. In an hour or so. If you’re not shaping young minds or whatever.” 

“Don’t you have work?” You laughed. 

“New job starts tomorrow,” he said. “And I don’t exactly have a lot of time without Sarah where I’m not at work.” 

“And you want to see me?” 

“No, I figured I’d just call and annoy your secretary as a new hobby…” 

“Office aide.” 

“You free for lunch or not, Goldie?” He said, exasperated. You resisted the urge to laugh. 

“Yeah,” you said. “Yeah, I’m free. I have a class gap from 11:30 to 2. I can meet you somewhere…” 

“I’ll just come to you,” he said. “Assuming that a fancy schmancy professor will still eat tamale lady tamales…” 

“OK you could have opened with tamale lady tamales,” you said. “Buried the lead there, Miller.” 

Joel laughed. 

“I’ll give you my number and you can text me where your office is,” he said. “Then I’ll have a way to contact you that isn’t fucking gibberish. See you in two hours.” 

You put his number into your phone and texted him. He responded with a screenshot of your note with the message literally none of those numbers are right which made you laugh. 

It was hard to focus as you taught your next class, checking your watch every few minutes to see just how much time had passed. You were keyed up, stomach tight, and you tried to talk yourself down as you walked half way across campus back to your office. 

It was Joel. Just Joel. Sure, before Friday, you hadn’t seen or talked to him in years but falling back into friendship with him had felt so easy so far. He was safe and comfortable. You’d spent every day with Joel once upon a time. 

But that felt so long ago now. You were different people then. Joel was a jock who pretty much just hung out with you and tried to speed run his way through every hot girl in school. You were a geek who spent her entire life either trailing along behind Joel or with her nose in a book. A lot had changed in the last decade and a half. Joel had a kid. You’d gotten married and divorced. Well, almost divorced. Nothing was finalized yet but you’d stopped wearing your wedding band when you moved to Texas even though it still sat on the ring stand on your bedside table. 

After Friday and Saturday, you weren’t entirely sure if you were going to see Joel again. You hadn’t gotten his number and you remembered nothing of trying to put your number in his phone while you were drunk. You weren’t sure if it was going to be a fluke, just a blip on the radar of your lives that had gone on totally disconnected paths for more than a decade, or if this was something that would continue. 

You weren’t sure what you wanted. Losing him the first time had hurt. It might have been the worst thing that had ever happened to you, even worse than losing your mother, than watching your sister sister fall apart in slow motion over the last decade, than your father entirely. Was it something you could survive again? Was it something you’d need to dig back up and talk through with Joel now that you were speaking again? If that was what he needed, was that something you could handle doing? You weren’t sure about any of it. 

But you were already starting to think that you’d go along with anything Joel wanted as long as you got to keep him around this time, just like high school. He’d been the sun and you’d been caught in the gravity of him. You wondered if you’d ever escaped it at all. 

You straightened up your office a bit, not that you’d had much time for things to get too messy. Most things were submitted virtually now, though you insisted on poetry being printed to make sure formatting was maintained, and most of your personal notes were contained to planners and notebooks that were in orderly piles on your desk. You were absently checking your email when there was a knock on the frame of your door and you looked up to see Joel standing there, a foil covered plate in one hand, two glass bottles of Dr. Pepper in the other. 

“Oh my God, is that Dublin Dr. Pepper?” You gaped at him. 

“Technically no,” he said, coming in and setting a bottle down in front of you. “Stopped making it at the Dublin plant years ago but basically the same thing. Hi, by the way.” 

“Hi. And I’ll take basically the same thing,” you said, leaning forward to peer into the hall. “Do me a favor and close the door?” 

He nudged it shut with his foot and you took the bottle, popping it open on the edge of your desk. Joel sat in the chair on the other side of your desk before he followed suit, smirking as he did. 

“I didn’t want witnesses if I broke the desk I’ve had all of a month, OK?” You said. 

“Goldie, I don’t think you could break the desk if you tried,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. You did the same, humming a little in appreciation. You rolled the liquid on your tongue like you would a wine, the bubbles crackling and dancing there before you swallowed it. 

“God, that’s good,” you said. “I can’t remember the last time I had a soda that wasn’t diet…” 

“Christ you sound like a Yankee,” Joel laughed, sitting back in the chair. “That’s a Coke in your hand, darlin’, not a fuckin’ soda.” 

“Oh God,” you groaned and laughed, too. “That was such a hard habit to break! I’d ask my roommate if we had any Cokes, she said no, I’d go in the fridge later and see Diet Pepsi and have a what the fuck moment.” 

“Strange world out there,” Joel smiled slightly, turning the glass bottle that looked so small in his large hands. 

“Are these the tamales?” You asked, nodding at the plate. 

“Oh, shit, yeah,” he said, taking the foil off the plate. The corn husks glistened and you groaned a little. Joel pulled two sets of plastic wrapped silverware out of his pocket and handed you one. “How long’s it been since you had one of these?” 

“I don’t even want to own up to it,” you said, unwrapping the fork and knife. “I’ve basically been on a diet for the last decade of my life, these look incredible.” 

You wheeled your office chair around the desk and sat next to Joel before peeling back a husk and cutting the end off with your fork and taking a bite. Your eyes rolled back in your head and you slumped back in the chair with a satisfied moan. 

“Jesus Christ.” 

“That good, huh?” Joel laughed.You just nodded, mouth full, and sat up to cut off another bite before you even swallowed the first one. “Diet for 10 years?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, covering your mouth with your hand until you could swallow. “There was the book tour, they wanted me to look a certain way. And… well, my husband has a type so…” 

“Fuck that guy,” Joel said, opening another tamale and taking a bite of it. You rolled your eyes a little. “Mean it, fuck that and fuck him.” 

“Oh, so you don’t have a type?” You asked, brows raised. “Because I seem to remember a very distinctive type in high school…” 

“Oh lord,” he rolled his eyes. 

“Pretty, for sure,” you said, teasing a little. “You definitely seemed to be a bit of a boobs man…” 

“If I were with someone I sure as shit wouldn’t make them fucking diet to be my type,” he cut you off. “He’s a fucking idiot, Goldie.” 

“You’re making a bigger deal out of this than it really is,” you waved him off. 

“No, I’m really not,” he replied. “If we’d been talkin’ I’d have fuckin’ come to Rhode Island and kicked his sorry ass.” 

“Joel,” you rolled your eyes. 

“What?” He asked. “I would’ve. And he’d fuckin’ deserve it.” 

“Anyway,” you said, cutting off another chunk of tamale. “You’ve got a new job starting tomorrow?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded. “It’s one that I’m actually lookin’ forward to, too. Get to be a little more creative…” 

“You don’t normally get to be creative?” You frowned. 

He scoffed. 

“Not on any of the big shit,” he said. “Owners and managers get to do that. They toss me the smaller projects here and there to plan and run, this one is some owner’s suite remodel. Doin’ the bathroom, fancy fucking closet, that kind of shit. They’re letting me run it so I’ll shut up about never getting to do the fun stuff.” 

“How long have you been working there?” You asked. 

“Since I was 20,” he said. “So… fuck, 13 years? Jesus, I’m getting old…” 

“And they’re not letting you do the creative stuff?” You asked, brows raised. 

“I’m apparently ‘too valuable’ runnin’ the crew,” he used air quotes. “They throw a few of these little jobs to me every year but mostly I just make sure shit goes right on site for bigger jobs. Get it all done on time, all that.” 

“Do you like doing that?” You asked. 

“Not really.” 

“OK,” you frowned. “So why are you still there?” 

“Well, mostly because I tried paying my mortgage once with dreams and they told me to fuck off,” he said dryly and you glared at him. 

“You know what I mean,” you said, cutting off a chunk of his tamale. 

“Hey!” 

“Shove it,” you popped it in your mouth before he could take it back. He rolled his eyes. “You’ve been doing that work for a while is what I mean, I’m sure somewhere else would hire you and you could do the parts of it you liked.” 

“What I really want is to start my own company,” he said. “Well, what I really want is to play music but that ship’s sailed. Realistically, I’d like to start my own company. I think I could make some really cool shit if I had the chance.” 

“So do it,” you shrugged. 

“Oh yeah, easy for you to say,” he scoffed. “What, you just write your fuckin’ book?” 

“No,” you said. “It took a lot of work and editing and rewriting and I’m not sure I’ll ever do it again but I did it. You can do it.” 

“What do you mean you’re not sure you’ll ever do it again?” He frowned. “Thought I saw somethin’ about you writing another one.” 

You looked at him for a moment, frowning a little, fork frozen over the plate. You were contracted for another book but that wasn’t something that had made national news, just an item in some industry publications after the press release from the publisher. 

Why would Joel know that?

“What?” He asked. “Why are you starin’ at me?” 

“Oh,” you said. “Just got something on your face…” You dipped your fork into some of the drippings on the plate before smearing it on Joel’s cheek. “Just there, nothing crazy.” 

He pursed his lips and looked like he was struggling not to laugh. 

“You’re the worst person I know,” he said, wiping his face with a tissue from the box on your desk.

You smirked, sitting back in your chair and putting your legging-clad legs in his lap, the way you used to sit with him on the couch back when you were teenagers. 

“I know.” 

“I’m serious though,” he said, the hand not holding the fork going around your calf just like it always had. “What do you mean you might never do it again?” 

“I don’t know,” you sighed, peeling the husk off another tamale and cutting off a bite of it. “I don’t know that I have another story to tell. I’ve been trying to tell another one and I just… haven’t found one. I think I had one good story in me and I told it. That’s the end.” 

“That’s bullshit,” Joel said. 

“It’s really not,” you shrugged. “When I wrote the first one it just kind of flowed. At least the first draft did. I wrote it in about six months after my mom died and Gale…” 

“Brad.” 

You glared at him. 

“Gale,” you repeated. “Edited it and workshopped it with me.” 

“Oh I’m sure he was a fuckin’ natural at that,” Joel said, voice dripping in sarcasm. You glared at him. “What, you’re telling me I’m wrong? I don’t think I am…”

“He was well equipped for the job,” you allowed. “And yeah, it took a lot of edits and rewrites before it was ready to even start trying to show to agents, it was years of work… Who would I do that with now? I don’t know that I can do it by myself…” 

“Do it with your publisher and shit,” Joel said. “Come on, don’t tell me that jackass is what’s holding you back…” 

“It’s not just that. I really don’t know that I have anything else to say. And even if I did…” you took a deep breath. You’d never said this aloud, not even to your agent. “If I did, what if it’s not as good?” 

Joel waved you off. 

“Of course it’d be as good, the fuck are you talking about?” 

“I’m talking about the fact that everyone freaked the fuck out about the fact that my ‘debut novel,’” you put the words in air quotes, “was so brilliant and shit, what if I never write anything better? What if everything I ever make after this is a let down? What if I never do anything good again? Everyone who took a risk on me, everyone who read my first book, everyone who ever thought I could do something will be let down by it. Jesus, one reviewer said it was the best debut novel since To Kill a Mockingbird, how the fuck am I supposed to live up to that? Starting to understand why Harper Lee didn’t publish anything else for decades…” 

 “Goldie,” Joel said gently. “I’m sure you’d write something great.”

You poked at your tamale, staring at it as you did. 

“What if the only great thing I ever made was great because of him?” You asked quietly, eyes darting to Joel for a second before looking back at the plate. “What if it was just fine when it came from me and it only became what it became because of him?” 

“Anything you’d write would be great, got nothing to do with fuckin’ Brad,” he said. “Not sure you can write something that’s not great.” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“Joel, you read the articles I wrote for the school paper,” you said. “I don’t think you’re a fair judge.” 

“And your lit mag stuff,” he said defensively. “Look, I’m not a genius or anything but I’m smart enough to know when something’s great and you’re great, alright?” 

“Yeah, well…” you nudged his leg with your knee. “So are you.” 

He just looked at you for a moment until you frowned. 

“What?” 

He leaned forward with his fork, smearing some tamale drippings on the tip of your nose.

“Got something right… there.” 

You laughed and he squeezed your calf and you cleaned your face before you went back to focusing on the food and life outside of your broader ambitions. Before what felt like too long there was a knock on your door and Alyssa poked her head in. 

“Sorry, didn’t realize you had company,” she smiled, her eyes drifting to where your legs were still in Joel’s lap. “I was just going to put a note on your desk, I figured you’d be at your next class already. Have you written your midterm yet?” 

“Not yet,” you said, looking at your watch and you realized it was far later than you realized and you had less than 10 minutes to walk to your next class. “Shit, I have to go!” 

Joel released your leg from his hold and you scrambled to collect your things as Joel cleaned up the remains of lunch. 

“If you wanted to write midterms together,” Alyssa said as you slung your bag over your shoulder. “Maybe next week?” 

“Sure,” you said, looking around at your desk and grabbing your gold notebook before standing next to Joel. “Email me?” 

“Yup,” she smiled, looking Joel up and down. “Absolutely will. Hi.” 

“Hi,” he said, smiling a little. You looked between them and fought the urge to groan. She was just Joel’s type. 

“Alright, some of us have to go teach,” you said. “Out of my office so I can lock up.” 

You ushered them both into the hall. 

“Have fun teaching,” Alyssa waved, giving Joel a last look before heading to her office a few doors down from yours. 

“Oh I’m sure I will,” you said, taking Joel’s hand and pulling him along behind you before he could start gawking at her and then you were really late for school. “See you later…” 

“What was that about?” Joel laughed as you spilled out into the hall that was tight with the press of students. 

“I know your type,” you said. “And I don’t have time to wait for you to be done doing your thing…” 

“My ‘thing?’ And you know my type?” He asked, brows raised. “Really? Well, in that case…” 

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes and he laughed. 

“I came by to see you, for the record,” he said. “And apparently feed you properly since you aren’t gonna do it yourself…” 

“Thank you,” you said, sincerely. “That was really good. And it was really nice, hanging out with you.” 

“It was good to hang out with you, too,” he said, smiling a little, his hands shoved in his pockets. “Should let you get to class though. Those minds aren’t gonna shape themselves. And I have your actual number now, not the fuckin’ hieroglyphics you tried to leave me Friday…” 

“And I have yours,” you smiled back. “But I do have to go…” 

“Right,” he said, leaning in and pulling you into a hug and holding you close for a second. He was warm and his chest was firm and there was something about the way his arms fit around you that was so all encompassing you were certain that you belonged there with him. That, somewhere in the universe, the root of you both had grown together and separated just to find each other again. He pulled back. “Don’t let those college kids give you too much trouble.” 

“I won’t,” you said. “Don’t let Sarah give you shit.” 

“Oh, I will,” he said. “Can’t help it. Bye, Goldie.” 

You smiled.

“Bye, Joel.” 

You were three minutes late to class. You didn’t care. 

When you got home, you went to one of the boxes you hadn’t unpacked yet, one that sat in the  extra bedroom that you hadn’t found a use for yet. You knew exactly which box, the one filled with things you only looked at when you were feeling especially strong or particularly weak. You sifted through old notebooks, past one of Joel’s faded band t-shirts that you’d swiped at his house when Tommy had knocked a cup of Kool-aid over when you were wearing a white shirt and Mrs. Miller and scrambled to get your top in the wash to get the stain out and then you’d never given it back, down to the shoebox of photos. You pulled it out and looked through them. Joel at 16, a confused look on his face as he lay on the wheeled contraption he used for sliding easily under his truck and you surprised him with camera, a splotch of grease on his cheek. You, 17, in Joel’s letterman that was big on him so it was massive on you, sleeves shoved up around your forearms as you stuck your tongue out at the camera. The two of you, 16, sitting on opposite sides of a restaurant booth, your legs stretched out on the benches, a basket of fries and a milkshake between you. You were flashing a peace sign at the camera and Joel was looking at you, a soft smile on his face. 

It was easy to remember what friendship with Joel had been. It would be so easy to fall back into it. It felt like you were always supposed to be this way, lives so intertwined they were built on the same foundation. It had seemed an impossible thing, to blow it all apart. You’d loved it then. You missed it now. But it had blown apart and you weren’t sure you could survive losing it again. 

You sighed, flipping to the back of the box to the photos from prom night. Your mom had sent them to you after you’d moved to Rhode Island and they’d languished at the photo lab for weeks. There was a simple note: “Thought you might want these,” a little heart drawn at the end. 

You found the picture of the two of you together, your hand on his chest, his arm around your waist. You were looking up into his eyes and he was looking into yours, a small smile on his face, just enough for the beginnings of his dimple to show. You looked at it for a while before you signed, packing everything else away and moving to your office, propping the photo against your computer as you sat down to write. 

***

Sarah had been in rare form that night. Very skeptical about why she needed to do homework at all and trying to logic her way out of needing to do it for as long as she possibly could. 

“Kiddo, if you just sat down and did it, you’d be done by now,” Joel had groaned at one point. 

“But if I just didn’t do it, I’d be done by now, too,” she replied. 

He took a deep breath. Sometimes, this girl… 

“Not on the table, Baby Girl,” he said. “You can either do your homework now and have time to watch TV before bed or you can not do your homework and fight me on it, not watch TV and get up early tomorrow to finish your homework. Up to you.” 

She groaned, picking up her pencil, bouncing her leg impatiently under the dinner table. Joel wasn’t sure who was happier when the damn worksheets were done, him or his daughter.

Once Joel was certain Sarah was asleep, he went to the back of his closet and found the box that he kept stashed away. He didn’t have to look far, the two copies of your book right on top. One was signed. He didn’t open that one, just looked at it now and then, held it when he wanted to touch something you’d touched once. 

The other had a worn spot on the spine, where the structure of the book had cracked and bent enough times because he’d tried to read it dozens of times but could never bring himself to go past the first page. 

He liked the cover of it, certain that you’d had a hand in picking it. It was simple, an orange sun with a gilded flower in front of it, the title, Halcyon, in bold letters below the abstract image. Joel flipped past the pages of praise, the title page, the table of contents, the forward written by fucking Brad. He turned until he got to the words that were yours. He knew they were yours, he recognized the voice of you, even on paper. No matter what you said, there wasn’t an ounce of Brad there. At least, not on that page.

“The sun in Texas was hot in summer,” you’d written, “melting ice cream and asphalt in equal measure. But it was the heat of his palm that made my cheeks burn…” 

He closed the book, looking at the back cover with your picture on it. Your arms were folded so that one was in front of you, the other vertical alongside your face. Your gaze was intense, a knowing smile on your lips, as though you were staring at him, teasing him, tempting him. “The answers are all here, Joel,” your picture said. “If you could just make yourself read it, you’d know.” 

He put the book down and got his phone out of his pocket, finding your number in his contacts. 

You answered on the second ring. 

“Oh my God, you’re so demanding,” you sighed in faux exasperation. 

Joel laughed. 

“I know, I’m so fucking needy, don’t know how you stand me.” 

You laughed back. 

“What’s up?” 

“Been thinking,” he began. 

“You?” You said. “Really?” 

“Shut up.”

You giggled. 

“Anyway,” he continued. “Feel free to tell me to kick rocks but… Sounds like neither of our lives have exactly gone the way we’ve wanted them to.” 

“You mean you didn’t plan on being a single dad and I didn’t plan on being divorced at 32?” You gasped. “Color me shocked!” 

“We were always good at holding each other accountable,” he said, ignoring you. “Hell, you’re the only reason I graduated high school…” 

“And you’re the only reason I started at the school paper,” you said. Joel smiled at that, the memory of standing outside the newspaper office while you talked to the teacher so you couldn’t back out. 

“Right,” he said. “Well… what if we did that now?” 

“Now?” He could hear you frowning through the phone. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean,” he said. “Why don’t we try to actually get our shit together? You make me better, always have…” 

“You, too,” you said quietly but you at least sounded serious now. 

“When are you supposed to have your next book done?” He asked. “Assuming there’s a contract with a deadline for that shit, right?” 

“End of next year,” you sighed. 

“Great,” Joel said. “Alright, let’s give ourselves to the end of next year to set ourselves straight. You finish your book, whatever else you want to get done…” 

“Finalize my divorce,” you said. 

“That’s a good one,” Joel said. “I’ll see about starting my own business…” 

“And having a stable relationship?” You asked. 

“Sounds like a good goal,” he answered, his stomach twisting a bit at that. “What do you say? We come up with a list of shit and go from there? You know we’re better when we’re on a team than when we’re not.” 

You were quiet for a moment. 

“Yeah,” you said eventually. “Yeah, let’s do it.” 

Joel smiled a little, looking down at the box, the cover of your book looking back at him. 

“It’s a deal,” he said. “We’ve got this, Goldie.” 

You laughed a little. 

“Hell yeah we do.”

Next Chapter

A/N: So sorry for the long wait on this! Should be weekly updates from here out for a while, promise <3

Thank you thank you thank you for reading! I'm so excited for what's coming up for these two, I just love how they love each other and yes. I can't wait to explore it all with you.

Thank you for being here! Love you!

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #halcyon