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#but i think i deserved to have a day off from school stuff to work on this
undreaming-fanfiction · 2 months
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Okay, so vampire Eddie is a pretty standard trope at this point, but may I offer...Twilight vampire Eddie who is absolutely pissed off about his sparkly existence?
Eddie actually isn't that old, he was turned in the 80s when he was around 20. He lives with his small and not only vampire family. There's patriarch Wayne, his partner Scott who always becomes a teacher no matter where they move, Claudia Henderson and her son that have been with them ever since Scott noticed Dustin being unusually quiet in his class and soon after, Wayne kicked out his abusive father.
The problem with living with a smart man who loves educating people and a man who never received the education he deserved is - they take school really, really seriously. Whenever they move, Eddie usually has to re-join high school, it's all "just so that you have some socialization! Also we need to be able to blend in, so look around and see what's normal with young people! Also I'm pretty sure some of the stuff we know is now obsolete or disproven, so make sure to tell us!". And Eddie loves Wayne and Scott, he really does, but he had trouble blending in even when he was alive, so now? Impossible. As for gathering information, Eddie has been trying for decades to explain to Wayne that even if becoming a vampire healed the wounds from the lynching mob, it didn't do shit for his ADHD, so there. Wayne finds Eddie banging his head into a desk one day and chanting "WHAT-THE-FUCK-IS-TIK-TOK?!"
So yes, Eddie hates being a forever highschooler, but it also means he can run DnD clubs everywhere he joins and he's not even lynched for it like in the 80s, so hey, progress! He gets mostly content with his existence, except that he's fucking sparkly and can't turn into a bat, so what's the point?!
But then a huge group of people moves from the close town of Hawkins, they had a really fucked up earthquake - Wayne told him all about it, he often volunteered in rescue and high risk works, and he's never seen anything like it - and their little town becomes way more crowded. There are high school freshmen just begging to be introduced to his club, Hellfire, although one of them is scary observant and Eddie is really sure that Jane knows he's a vampire.
And then there's Steve Harrington. A young man with the prettiest hair ever who joined Eddie's class, apparently he needs to repeat the last year too because if your school burns down, you can't take final exams. He's stupidly pretty, snarky, bitchy, and even though he could be partying day and night and spending the rest of his time on dates, he prefers to hang around with the freshmen. Lucas tells him one day that Steve got badly hurt when he was digging through the collapsed middle school, finding and rescuing their whole group, and well...Eddie respects that. Dustin absolutely loves Steve and maybe Eddie feels a bit jealous, but he has to admit - the guy is cool.
The problem with Steve Harrington is this - he's seen so much shit that nothing really fazes him. Eddie loves shocking people. Steve is unshockable. It becomes their little game, they get close, Eddie realizes he has an embarrassing crush, all that jazz. He tries dropping hints, he slurps his bloody lunch from a bottle that has a "THIS IS DEFINITELY TOMATO JUICE AND NOTHING ELSE". He wears a cape. He adopts a horrible Dracula accent. Nothing works. Steve always just laughs and tells him that he's weird and that's why he likes him.
Finally, Eddie has enough. They walk in the woods to get high, Eddie decides to break the ice, he scoops up Steve, does his whole dashing-through-the-woods thing, and he hopes that he can finally share his secret with Steve.
Except Steve just pats his back and says "Wow, that was cool, man! You'd be amazing at track. Great core strength too," and Eddie's head implodes.
"Okay, Steve. Don't you think there's something rotten here?" he tries.
"I mean, it's the woods. Of course there's something rotting all the time."
Eddie tries again. "You've noticed something strange, haven't you. I'm inhumanly fast and strong."
"I sure didn't expect that! You must be secretly training. I didn't know this town had a gym."
Again. "My skin is pale white and ice cold."
Steve is watching a nearby squirrel instead of looking horrified. "Yeah, not all people tan great, Robin is like that too. And I told you, man. Your circulation is shit, you need better socks and some gloves too."
"My eyes change color."
"Yeah, I know, I do envy you that you can wear those cool contact lenses. My eyes are too dry for that."
Eddie is growing desperate, he's gesturing at the trees because Steve doesn't listen. "I speak like I'm from a different time."
"80s slashers will do that to you. You basically live on those. But I gotta admit that they're pretty fun. Oh look, she's got an acorn! Clever girl!"
"Very clever. Also I never eat or drink anything."
"Hey, I'm not judging. Some people prefer one or two meals in a day instead of the whole five meal thing."
Eddie feels like howling and he isn't even a werewolf. "I. DON'T. GO. INTO. THE. SUNLIGHT."
Steve's eyes finally leave the squirrel. "Duh. We've already established you can't tan."
And Eddie's had enough. He tears off his t-shirt, marches directly into the sunlight and throws the biggest tantrum of his life. "STEVEN HARRINGTON. PAY ATTENTION. I am 20. I have been 20 for a while now. You know what I am, right? I am a vampire. So ask me the question, what do we eat? That wasn't a fucking tomato juice Steven!!!"
Steve just watches him with quiet amusement, as if he's waiting for something.
Eddie doesn't notice. His monologue is reaching its most dramatic part. "I've killed people before! I'm the world's most dangerous predator!"
Steve snorts. "I saw you trip over your own feet in the cafeteria."
"Not the point!"
"You told a waitress "you too" when she told you to enjoy your meal."
Eddie actually howls now. "THE POINT IS." He spins in the sunlight and sees the reflections of light off his skin. "I wouldn't have minded becoming a vampire, but let me tell you. Being stuck in high school forever? Sucks. Craving chips and throwing them up whenever you try them? SUCKS. And thinking you've become the legendary creature of the night when you're a glorified glitter mascot?! And you can't even fly?! DOUBLE SUCKS."
He points at his bare glittering chest. "THIS THE SKIN OF A FUCKING DISCO BALL, STEVE!"
Steve just laughs and gets up from the tree stump he was sitting on. "Thanks for sharing. I was kinda hoping you'd finally ask me out since this is the first time we've had some privacy, but this was interesting too."
Eddie's sharing mania suddenly stops. He realizes he's shirtless in the middle of the forest, and his yelling has scared off the squirrel. He promptly grabs his shirt and puts in on. "Um. You...you wanted me to ask you out? Because I totally want to do that. Yep. But I thought it would have been unfair to ask you before I told you-"
"That you're a vampire? Dude, I know."
Eddie blinks once. Then again. "Excusemewhat?"
Steve smiles at him and touches his hand. "Look. After what happened in Hawkins, I know the smell of blood. I knew it wasn't tomato juice. Also I've accompanied the kids to enough monster flicks to know."
"Oh." Eddie licks his lips and doesn't really know what to say. "Um. What...does that mean for us?"
Laughing, Steve grabs his other hand too. "Definitely two things. One - you can and should kiss me. Two - you can stop wearing that cape. I got your point."
"Oh okay. Cool. Will do. Both."
And since Eddie Munson is a vampire of his word, he does.
(Wayne is absolutely delighted that Eddie is dating, he watches sports with Steve and discusses the pros and cons of Steve becoming a paramedic. Scott helps Steve with some of the subjects he's struggling with. In return, Steve works with Robin to find a makeup brand that is fully sparkleproof, giving the vampires a chance to walk in the sunlight again. And sometimes, he helps them answer the questions that have been plaguing the Munson-Clarke-Henderson household for years...such as: what is TikTok?)
(oh and also. Turns out Steve really thought Eddie was wearing creepy contact lenses. That one aspect of vampyrism he found very cool)
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cowgurrrl · 4 months
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Something in the Orange
Pairing: Joel Miller x art teacher!reader
Author's note: this might become a mini series idk idk
Summary: A parent-teacher conference leads to trouble [4.0k]
Warnings: no outbreak! au, teacher things, Ellie being a little loner, Joel the Menace making a return, Joel gets both his daughters in this one because it's what he deserves, flirty flirt, i think that's it???
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You feel like you've been running a million miles a minute since you got in this morning. The second you could unlock the door, at least three students spilled into your room and chaotically ran to the kiln to collect their most recent pottery projects. One of them ended up shattering (the exact one you warned Colin about, but he didn't listen), and, as per high school custom, they were all screaming about it. You consoled the students just in time for your principal to walk by and ask about lesson plans which made you scramble through your backpack for your notebook even though you knew damn well there wasn't a single lesson plan in there. "Do you always have those lights on?" Principal Martinez asked, gesturing to the room's fairy lights and orange lamps. Leave it to administration to want to avoid art classrooms so much that they don't even know about the Big Light Philosophy. 
Since then, it's been class after class. You only have one more period before your planning period and then, finally, the end of the day. There are a hundred things to do, but you can't focus on any of them. You got so caught up in managing your classroom and helping students with the hardest parts of their portfolio work that you almost forgot you had a parent meeting scheduled during your planning period. 
Calling in parents for meetings about their children may be your least favorite part of your job. It makes you feel like a bad teacher, and parents usually don't feel great about getting called in on a workday to talk about their kid. Luckily, Ellie's dad, Joel, seemed more than happy to take time to talk about her. You rack your mind for his occupation as you add some detail to a canvas you've been hiding in your office and working on when you can. Was he a blue-collar worker? Or was he another stuck-up Austin transplant parent who's gonna accuse you of lying? He'd make the fifth parent who's made you cry this semester.
A knock on your locked door pulls you from your thoughts, and you quickly put away your painting before answering the door. "I told you she was in here!" One of your students, Dina, announces as she and a posse of three other kids you don't recognize push their way into the room. "Miss, you've gotta take that thing off your door; otherwise, people are gonna think you went home!"
"You mean the sign that says, 'planning period. Do not enter?'" You ask, and she snaps her fingers.
"That's the one." She says as she and her friends start putting their backpacks down at one of your high tables. You sigh and kick the door stopper into the threshold.
"You guys can't stay here. I have a meeting in five minutes."
"With who?"
"None of your business." 
"Miss!" Dina acts wounded, and you cross your arms over your chest, your keys jingling around your neck in the process.
"I am an adult with a college degree and the debt to show for it. You are a teenager with a still-developing brain. You have to listen to me," you say. "Wait, whose class are you supposed to be in right now?"
"Mr. Flynn's."
"Guys!" You groan before walking over to your desk and quickly writing up a hall pass for them. "I know you don't like math-"
"No, we don't like Mr. Flynn." Dina cuts you off.
"Or math!" One of her friends adds, and you shoot them a (loving) disapproving look. 
"Whatever you don't like, you can't keep hiding out here. Mr. Flynn is two seconds away from trying to get me fired for how often I let his kids in here during class, and I actually like this job, so," you rip the hall pass off the pad and hand it to Dina. As they pack their stuff up, a tall, bearded man steps into your classroom and makes eye contact with you. "Out, out, out! I love you. You're gonna change the world one day, but please get out." You blow them kisses as you usher them out of the room. 
"Are you Ellie's art teacher?" He asks, a confused look on his face, and you nod.
"Yes, I am. Sorry about that. They're still figuring out that I have work to get done even when I don't have a class," you explain, a little breathless from running all over the place and getting caught off-guard. You really do try to act a little more professional with parents, but the kids threw you off. The kettle whistling behind your desk doesn't make it any better. "Is there anything I can get you? Coffee? Tea?" You pick up a random mug off your desk but find it full of murky water. "Paint water?"
"Are you allowed to have an electric kettle in here?" He asks, and you laugh nervously as you find a clean mug and your tea box. 
"I won't tell if you won't." You say. He stands there awkwardly as you pour yourself some tea, and you realize you didn't pull a chair up for him. "Um, we can sit..." you glance around your messy classroom until you find a clear table and gesture toward it. "Here." He follows your lead, and you take a deep breath as you sit down.
"You gonna be okay?" He asks, the hint of a smirk on his lips. His curly hair looks golden brown in the low light, and his round eyes have a little knowing twinkle. You take another breath to compose yourself and nod. 
"Yes. Sorry. It's been a long day." 
"Don't worry bout it. I'm sure they run you ragged."
"Is it that obvious?"
"Well, you do have paint in your hair." He says, and panic seizes in your chest. You're never more aware of how crazy your job can be until you meet Real Adults. Even if you can't remember what he does for a living, you still have to admit that you look a little silly next to each other: you, with your paint-stained sunflower dress and markered hands, and him, with his black shirt and jeans. He doesn't have any apparent stains or splatters on his clothes, but he's broad with thick biceps. He must work with his hands or something within that capacity. You clear your throat and try to get back on track with the meeting.
"Uh, so Mr. Miller, the reason I called you here today was to talk to you about Ellie," you start. "First, I just wanna say that she is an amazing student. She always does her work and engages thoughtfully with the material. I really do enjoy having her in class." 
"Well, that's certainly good to hear. She talks a whole lot bout this class and you, so... it's nice to place a face to the name," he says, adjusting his position on the stool. "But I have a feelin' you didn't call me down here just to tell me how great my kid is." 
"She is great. She's extremely talented, smart, and funny, but she spends more time in my classroom during lunch than anything else. I'm worried about her making friends and finding a community here at school. I've tried convincing her to join the art club, but she's hesitant. During class, she just sits with her headphones in and draws. She really doesn't like talking to anybody but me." You wait for blame to be assigned to you or get lectured, but it never comes. He just sighs, and he deflates a little in his chair.
"She's been through a lot this year. Well, her whole life, really, but 'specially recently," he says dejectedly. "What can I do for her?"
"There's an art show this Friday night here at the school. It'll all be student work from across the district. I thought if maybe you or... whatever adults she has at home came with her to this, she might feel more comfortable talking to her peers or even want to submit some of her own stuff."
"We can do that. I'll get off work early and ask her uncle if he wants to come," he's quick with his solution, and you're a little shocked. You rarely get parents, let alone fathers, who act this swiftly when something is going on with their kids. "Is there anythin' else goin' on that I should know bout?" 
"Uh, no. Like I said, she's a great kid. You should be really proud." You say, and the concerned wrinkle between his eyebrows disappears with a proud smile. 
"Thank you," he mumbles, suddenly shy. "And thanks for carin' so much bout her. It's nice to know she's got someone lookin' out for her here." You don't know what to say, so you just nod and stare at him. You know, like an idiot. It takes a chuckle from him to snap you out of your thoughts, and blood rushes to your cheeks.
"Yes, of course. She's a good kid." You say. 
"You said that already." 
"I bet you'd be a little scatterbrained if you were at the mercy of two hundred teenagers all day."
"You're absolutely right. I would be," he says, smirking devastatingly. "Someone ought to get you a coffee or somethin' if you're dealing with all that." 
"People like you should go argue with the school board. I'm sure you'd be popular with all the teachers." 
"That'd be a first. I think I might've been the least favorite parent for all of my girls' teachers." 
"Well, I find that hard to believe." 
"Yeah?" He asks, leaning forward just a little, and you nod, smiling. Your brain struggles to come up with something to say, and you're a little embarrassed at your silence, but luckily, your projector saves the day by buzzing loudly and making the picture on the board cut in and out. You mumble a quick apology before getting up and climbing up on a desk to jiggle a piece back into place. You hear Joel curse behind you, and when you turn to see what the problem is, you see him holding his arms out behind you. "Do you stand on desks often?" 
"Only every day. I haven't fallen yet this year." You laugh at his exasperated expression and turn back to the projector. It's still making a weird noise, so you move it around a little more, moving the desk under your feet, and Joel stabilizes it with a sigh. 
"How long has it been doin' that?" 
"Couple months. I keep putting in maintenance requests, but nobody ever comes to fix it."
"I can fix it for ya," he says simply, and you look down at him. "I've got tools in my truck. It wouldn't take long at all."
"Really?" You ask, and he nods. 
"It'd make me feel better knowin' you're not almost breakin' your neck every day."
"You mean, standing on a decades-old desk to mess with an ancient piece of equipment isn't OSHA compliant?"
"Please," he says, grabbing your ankle when the desk wobbles under you, and you laugh at his worry. "Let me fix it for you before you give me a heart attack." You think about declining and just putting in another work order, but the likelihood that anyone would actually come and fix it is slim to none. Plus, you really shouldn't be climbing on top of desks every day. You pretend to think it over for a few more seconds just to watch the worry play across his features as his grip on your ankle gets tighter.
"Only if you really mean it." 
"I really mean it," he says, offering you his other hand. "Now, would you please get down?"
"Fine." You say and take his hand. You bend to safely get yourself down, but Joel moves his other hand from your ankle to your waist and basically hoists you to the ground. Once your feet touch the floor, he doesn't let you go immediately like he's trying to figure out if you somehow got hurt when he wasn't looking. There's a part of your brain that's aware of how inappropriate this would look to any passersby, but you're also highly aware of how warm his big hand is on your hip. 
"Ya alright?" He asks softly, and you nod, taking a conscious step back from his arms.
"Yes, thank you."
"Good," he says, also taking a step back. "Let me go get my tools, and I'll get that fixed for you." 
"Perfect. I'll be here." You stand there, staring at each other awkwardly, for another moment before he turns on his heels and walks out of the classroom. The second he's out of your line of sight, you bury your head in your hands and start silently freaking out. 
What the fuck are you doing? How did a parent-teacher meeting turn into him hauling you off a desk and offering to fix your projector? Technically, nothing incriminating has happened, and it needs to stay that way. It doesn't matter if you think he's attractive or like how he worries about everything. He's Ellie's dad. Teachers have gotten fired for much less than this, and you're not willing to risk your career because of one guy. 
When he gets back with his toolbox, you're sitting at your desk and sorting through assignments like a reasonable adult. He doesn't say anything as he climbs up on the same desk you were standing on and begins messing with the mechanics of the equipment. You each work in silence for a few minutes before a screw clatters to the ground, and he grumbles something under his breath. "Do you mind..." he starts, pointing toward the lost piece. 
"Not at all." You cover your anxiety with your chipper teacher voice and search for the screw with your phone flashlight. You find it tucked between canvases, carefully pick it up, and walk over to where he's standing, waiting for him to be ready for it.
"It looks like it's just an old piece in here. I'm sure you can order a new one, and I can come back and install it if ya want," he explains, looking down at you. You probably look stupid just standing there with a tiny screw in your hand, but he doesn't laugh. "D'you mind handing me that tool to your right?" He asks, and you blindly reach for the tool you think he's talking about. "Your other right." He corrects, and you flush in embarrassment. 
"Sorry. I never was a very good woodshop student." You say, and he laughs once he has the tool in hand. 
"My girls are the same way. Just askin' ‘em to hold a flashlight while I work on their car is like pullin' teeth," he says fondly. "Speaking of which, is there a reason the lights aren't on in here?"
"The lamp light is less harsh, and it helps students focus. Plus, nobody likes coming into a bright classroom first thing in the morning." You explain, and he hums.
"If I'd had a teacher like you growing up, I would've been at school much more than I was."
"You didn't like school?"
"Hated it," he says, opening his hand for the screw. Once you drop the tiny thing into his large palm, he straightens up, and you can barely hear it going back into its rightful place. "'S a miracle I graduated." 
"That was me in college." 
"Now, I don't believe that for a second." 
"Really?" You laugh, and he nods.
"Someone like you, with your pretty dresses and all that empathy, was meant to be a teacher." 
"I wasn't always like this," you evade the compliment despite the butterflies in your stomach. "Being a teacher was never on my radar until I graduated. A lot of my life was never on my radar until then." He puts the hood of the projector back on and climbs down from the desk until he's standing in front of you again, wiping his hands on a red handkerchief from his toolbox. 
"Well, with the way you carry yourself, I never woulda guessed." He says. He opens his mouth to say something more, but the sharp tone of the bell ringing cuts him off. You jump at the sound and look at the clock as if it were wrong. 
"I'm so sorry. Time must've gotten away from me. Thank you so much again, Mr. Miller, for coming in to talk with me and looking at the projector. I hope to see you and Ellie on Friday." You say quickly as the sound of rowdy kids fills the hallway, and you hold your hand out to him. He takes it and squeezes it firmly.
"You can call me Joel. Mr. Miller makes me feel old." He says, and you smile. He doesn't look old, unlike the other dads you've encountered. Sure, he's got some gray at his temples and in his beard, but it suits him. 
"Joel, it is then." You resolve. His hand lingers in yours for a little too long before finally pulling away. "Well, Joel, unless you want to elbow through teenagers, I'd suggest you hide out here for a few more minutes." He does happily, even helping you carry supplies to your car once the hallways have cleared out enough. He's a proper gentleman, slinging your backpack over his shoulder and opening doors for you. You part only once everything is in your trunk, and he bids you goodnight with a charming smile that fills your thoughts on your drive home.
Ellie surprises you the next day as you're setting up the classroom. Normally, she isn't in until right before the bell rings, so seeing her this early is a little bit of a shock. The ink staining her hands is not. "Hey, dude. What's going on?" You ask. "Did you get breakfast from the cafeteria today? I heard Mrs. Hodges has those French toast sticks that everyone loves. You can probably get two servings if you run." 
"No, I already ate. My dad and uncle had to leave early this morning, so we got breakfast. Speaking of which," she says as she takes off her backpack and pulls a cup of iced coffee out of her water bottle pocket. "This is for you. We didn't know what you liked, so we got a vanilla latte or something." 
"Oh, El! You didn't have to do that. Thank you, honey." You say, and she sets it on your desk for you to enjoy once you don't have paintbrushes in hand. "If this is your way of getting a good grade on your piece, I already told you that you have nothing to worry about."
"It wasn't my idea. It was my dad's." She says nonchalantly before moving to the back of the classroom to get her sketch book. You, however, are confused and secretly pleased that Joel thought of you when he didn't have to. You find a message scribbled on the side when you reach for the cup to take a sip. 
Thanks again. See you Friday. -J
You turn to hide your smile from Ellie, but she's so deep in her work that you doubt she would've noticed anyway. You put some music on, and you and Ellie work silently on your projects until the bell rings and the day starts. 
The rest of the week goes by without a hitch, meaning that nobody accidentally ingested paint, and you only had to have one Come to Jesus talk with your Art 1 class. When Friday night rolls around, you're excited to see all the students work and treat yourself by wearing a new shirt with black scribbles all over it and black dress pants. You figure you should look as art teachery as possible for an art teacher event. 
By the time you get to the school, the hallways are buzzing with students dragging their parents from one piece to another and administrators praising their art programs even though you know not one of them has seen the inside of an art classroom in months. You make small talk with some of your students and their parents before finding a way out of the conversation and letting yourself wander through the makeshift gallery. You love your kids, but you really don't want them breathing down your neck as you look at all the art. You're almost at the end when you hear a familiar voice calling your name, and you turn to find Ellie walking toward you with Joel and, who you assume to be her uncle, next to her. 
"Hey, kid! I'm so happy to see you here!" You say sincerely, and she smiles shyly. You turn to her uncle and hold your hand out to introduce yourself. 
"Tommy. We sure have heard a whole lot bout you at home." He says with a smirk, and you laugh. 
"All good things, I hope."
"Of course. Ellie just bout worships the ground you walk on," he says. "Joel was singin' your praises, too." 
"Alright, I think that's enough. Why don't y'all go walk around, and I'll catch up with ya?" He suggests, and Tommy chuckles. Another teacher calls Ellie's name from down the hallway, and she's quick to drag Tommy off to meet him, leaving you and Joel alone. He's replaced his black shirt with a light blue dress shirt, and it looks like he's recently trimmed his beard. He looks nice.
"Singing praises, huh?" You raise your eyebrows at him, and he smiles sheepishly. "Thank you for the coffee the other morning, by the way. It was a really nice surprise." 
"Figured it was the least I could do to thank you for takin' such good care of my girl." 
"Well, thank you. I owe you." 
"You don't owe me a thing," he says. "Although, Tommy was a little upset that I didn't bill you for lookin' at the projector." 
"Was he?" You ask, and he nods.
"Oh, yeah," he laughs. "Said next time I should, at least, ask you on a date."
"Mr. Miller-"
"I thought you agreed to call me Joel." He raises his eyebrows in a silent challenge, and you shake your head, fighting a smile.
"Joel, while I'm flattered by the offer from someone so handsome-"
"You think I'm handsome?"
"I can't date my students' parents." You say, ignoring his question, but even then, the playful look on his face doesn't fade. "Well, I can leave you to it. I know Ellie will probably want to show you around." 
"Right. Of course," he says. "It's really nice to see you."
"You, too. I'm just glad I didn't have paint in my hair this time."
"I don't know. I thought it was kinda cute." You feel yourself blush at his words, but you have to shut it down before it can become anything more than flattery. You take a deep breath and try not to let that stupid smirk weaken your knees as he watches you.
"Goodnight, Joel."
"Goodnight, ma'am." He says, tipping his head politely before sauntering down the hallway like he owns the place. Trouble, you think to yourself. But you can handle trouble. It's in your job description, for Christ's sake. 
So, you brush off the flirting and try to ignore how his kindness and sweet words made you feel. You absolutely cannot flirt with the parent of one of your students. Dating is completely off the table. You can handle this like an adult. You have to. 
After a cold shower and a leftover dinner, you check your email once more before going to bed that night. Sitting in your inbox with alarming clarity is an email from Ellie with the subject line: Art Club. Her email is somehow just as short as her subject line. 
Simply, "When can I start -E." 
TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha
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alltheirdamn · 22 days
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Killing Me Softly | (Joel Miller x teacher!f!reader)
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Chap. 2: See me
Chap 2. Summary: To be loved is to be seen. You're slowly learning that Joel sees you a lot more than you realize. Rating: 18+ MDNI (for future smut) Word Count: 6.7k Warnings: pre-outbreak AU, no smut (yet...pls be patient), tension, banter, a fuck ton of angst, mutual pining, language... I think that's it this go around? A/N: trust me, we're building up to the good stuff. I'm just enjoying developing Joel and the reader a bit more, so pls hang tight. It's all coming soon, I promise.
Masterlist
It had been two weeks since you had last seen Joel. You managed to get through the first round of tests and projects for each of your classes, but as the midterms slowly approached, you began to notice a shift in your students—specifically, Sarah. It wasn’t noticeable at first; she was still chatty with her friends, but her grades were slipping. Then, it became her grades and mood. During lessons, you’d catch her staring out the window blankly or doodling dismissively on the margins of her notebook when you were running through the guidelines for the midterms. She lingered longer after the school bell, choosing not to leave with her friends. After a particularly dull day of presentations, you decided to pull her aside after class. Sarah was reluctant to stay, but you reassured her she wasn’t in trouble. 
“I’ve noticed you’re a bit off lately, Sarah,” you said, leaning against the edge of your desk. 
“I’m just tired, that’s all,” she shrugged. 
She wouldn’t meet your eyes, and you noticed her shifting her weight between her legs the longer she stood in the empty room with you. You feared something was happening at home with Joel, but you didn’t want to explore that topic with your twelve-year-old student. Instead, you gave her a soft smile and tried a different approach. 
“I know you’re on the soccer team. Has that been tiring you out?” You asked.
“I mean, I guess so.”
“When’s your first game?” You were really trying now. 
Sarah tightened her fingers around the straps of her backpack, staring at the floor. 
“This Saturday,” she mumbled. 
“Are you excited? I’m sure your dad can’t wait to cheer you on!”
There it was—the breaking point. 
She looked up at you through blurry eyes, biting her lip to stop from crying. You immediately regretted bringing up Joel. You had overstepped a boundary, and you were paying the price. Dipping your head to meet her at eye level, you placed both hands on her shoulders, trying to comfort her the best you could. 
“Oh, honey,” you sighed. “I’m sorry. Is that what’s been upsetting you?”
She nodded, sniffling back the tears. 
“He’s always working,” she explained. “I don’t really think he’ll make time to come watch me play.”
“I bet he wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you assured her. 
“Yeah,” she said, wiping away a stray tear. 
You watched the defeat etch itself into her features, the deep frown across her face, the brightness in her eyes dwindling. You wanted to believe Joel was a good dad, and you had no doubt he was trying his hardest, but that clearly wasn’t enough. Tipping your fingers under her chin, you coaxed her eyes to meet yours. 
“Look, how about I go?” You offered. “I know I’m not the person you want to see on the sidelines, but I would love to watch you play.”
“Really?” She asked, her eyes growing wide. 
“Really,” you promised. 
Your words seemed to have soothed a bit of the ache inside of her, and she left the classroom with a smile growing on her face. If Joel wouldn’t show up for her, then you would. She deserved someone cheering her on; she deserved to be happy. 
Whoever decided to schedule soccer games at eight AM on a Saturday was cruel, but regardless, you threw on some leggings and a sweater and made your way to the school soccer fields. The parking lot was littered with minivans and families walking with lawn chairs tucked under their arms, their coolers filled with juice pouches and snacks dragging behind them. Obviously, you were uncultured in the sports world and came without a chair or blanket…or anything. So, you opted to stand behind the line of parents on the field, swaying under the morning breeze as you watched the kids chase the ball across the field. 
Your eyes never left Sarah while she was on the field; her bouncy curls and lean figure were easy to spot among the other players. She was quick when given the ball, dodging the opponents as she neared the net. There were only three minutes left in the first half of the game, and she had possession of the ball, weaving in and out of the players tracking her moves. You held your breath as she ran closer to the net, the ball easily controlled under her feet. An opponent was gaining on her, trying to kick the ball away, but Sarah did a little twirl and evaded them perfectly to shoot the game's first point. You were cheering and clapping loudly with the other parents on the sideline, watching her teammates swarm her with hugs. But as the cheering died out, you were left with this profound sadness that her dad wasn’t here to see her first goal. 
You let that bitterness grow inside you as you watched the remainder of the game.
When the final whistle blew, the team won 1-0, with Sarah being the game's star player. With a sheen of sweat over her forehead and a juice pouch in hand, Sarah skipped over to you with a bright smile. 
“Great job!” You cheered, welcoming her into a warm embrace.
She squeezed her arms around your torso, babbling off a slew of ‘thank you’s.’ You put aside your anger towards Joel as you grounded yourself in the moment. Sarah deserved this celebration, and you would happily give her every bit of attention you could. 
“Do you need a ride home, honey?” You asked, pulling away from the hug. 
Sarah’s cheery exterior faltered as she looked around at the families embracing their children. You knew where her mind was going. Looking around, she nodded slowly, clutching her drink tightly. 
“My friend’s parents took me here, but I think they’re going out to lunch. I was hoping my dad would be here, but…” She trailed off. 
“I’m happy to take you home, Sarah. Want some food for the drive home?” You offered. 
That bright smile was back as she happily agreed, following you back to your car. 
Both you and Sarah were munching on fries and singing along to pop tunes when you finally parked in front of her house. To your detriment, Joel’s truck was parked in the driveway. Sarah timidly looked between you and the truck as she gathered her sports bag and soda cup, thanking you again for the day spent together. You gave her the best fake smile you could conjure up and watched her head to the front door. 
You sat in front of the driveway for an extra few minutes, debating whether you should confront Joel, but before you could even decide, he was walking down the front porch and towards your car. That bitterness and anger you had suppressed all day surged forward, and you jumped out of the car to face him with a frown drawn on your face.
Joel greeted you with your name falling off his tongue, and you didn’t have time to register the beautiful way it sounded in his Southern accent before you began spewing a litany of remarks about how you felt. 
“Why weren’t you there?” You shouted, your body at arm's length from his. You needed to distance yourself from him, too afraid that your anger would send a hand flying across his face. You had to remind yourself that he was Sarah’s dad and you were her teacher, but that wouldn’t stop you from speaking your mind. 
Joel looked at you with a furrow of confusion and guilt, his hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans. It was apparent he regretted missing the game, but that didn’t matter. Saying sorry wouldn’t turn back the clock and magically make everything better. You knew that firsthand.
“Tommy and I had an early meetin’ with a contractor,” he explained. “Trust me, I hate that I missed the game.”
“You didn’t just miss the game. You missed her first goal,” you snapped. 
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, rocking his heels. “I appreciate you takin’ the time to go and watch her play. And drivin’ her home… and gettin’ her lunch.”
“I did everything you should have done,” you accused. 
Joel swallowed thickly, his eyes settling on yours with a wave of sadness passing through his irises. Those big puppy dog eyes wouldn’t soothe the anger steamrolling over your professionalism. Fuck being professional. Sarah deserved a dad who was present, and if no one were going to call him out on his bullshit, you’d do it.
“I feel real shitty ‘bout it,” he sighed. “You ain’t gotta remind me.”
“You should feel shitty. She’s your daughter. I shouldn’t have to be the only one cheering for her on the sidelines. Nothing should be more important than that.”
“Would you quit lecturin’ me?” Joel barked. “I know I fucked up, and I already apologized to her. Again, I appreciate you takin’ the time to be there for her, and I’m real sorry for makin’ you do that.”
You huffed a laugh, folding your arms over your chest. 
“You didn’t make me do anything,” you argued. “I wanted to be there for her, but she wanted you to be there for her.”
Joel said nothing at that, only stared at you in stunned silence. You were done with him, letting your anger get the best of you. 
“I know what it feels like when the one person you want to see doesn’t show up. I know that disappointment. Have a great day, Mr. Miller. Tell Sarah I’ll see her on Monday.”
You spun on your heel toward your car, flinging the door open with more force than you wanted. You shouldn’t have brought your past into it; Joel was nothing like Bennette, but it hurt all the same. 
Joel didn’t try to stop you as you drove out of the neighborhood, but he remained at the curb of his driveway, his eyes never leaving you until you were out of view. 
You barely managed to put your car in park before you broke down in tears. Everything was crashing at the surface, and you didn’t have the strength to bottle it away this time. Bennett had been your entire world for five years. Your whole life revolved around him, from going to the same grad school together to moving away from Boston to be with him in his new career. You left everything behind for him and were happy to do it because you loved him. Despite his flaws and the “not-so-picture perfect” relationship, you stayed because you loved him. And in that moment when you needed him to be there for you… he was gone. You weren’t lying to Joel when you said you knew what that disappointment felt like; it was that same feeling that kept you up at night when you wondered if you had done something to deserve it. But Sarah? Sarah did nothing to deserve to be abandoned by her dad. All she wanted was to see that one person cheering her on from the sidelines, to hug her and tell her she was loved. 
She didn’t get that today. 
And you didn’t get that two years ago. 
With whatever dignity you had left, you dragged yourself inside and into your bedroom, flinging yourself onto the mattress. Curling into a ball on top of the comforter, you let the tears continue to fall as you stared at the empty walls where the pictures of you and Bennett had hung before. Every inch of this house was a reminder of the scars Bennett left on your heart. You could have moved out months ago, you could have gone home, but what was the use when the pain would just travel with you? Shutting your eyes, you let the emotions exhaust you until you drifted asleep. 
“Bennett, I told you what time the cake tasting was scheduled for,” you shouted across the kitchen. 
Bennett wasn’t even listening as he responded to a thread of emails on his computer. The law firm he had been working at kept him on a short leash, always requiring him to be there at their beck and call. Between you and his job, his loyalty was in the latter. 
“I know,” he nodded, still glued to the computer screen. “They needed a proxy for the shareholder meeting and asked me to step in.”
“We’ve had this scheduled for weeks now. You can’t expect me to make all these decisions alone.”
“Whatever cake you choose, I’m sure I’ll love it,” he shrugged.
“That's not the point!” You yelled, slamming down the Tupperware you had been scrubbing. 
That caught his attention. Slamming the laptop shut, Bennett’s nostrils flared at your sudden outburst. You weren’t usually this outspoken; you were always the level-headed and obedient fiancé he expected to have. But the entire engagement had been a disaster, between work conflicts and the constant pressure he put on you. Every day, he expected to come home to a fresh meal, never considering that your job didn’t end when three PM hit. Being a teacher meant your responsibilities began at home, when you were hunched over curating the next lesson and grading papers. You never complained about his workload extending into the evening, either. God forbid you ask for more time together. 
“What is the point?” He snapped.
“The point is that I want you there. I want you to be a part of this wedding planning process. All I’m asking for is two hours together, where we eat too much sugar and choose a damn cake flavor. It’s not even about the fucking cake, Bennett. It’s about you being present in this engagement.”
“Are you saying I’m not present?” He accused. “Because I have been as present as possible despite me working so hard to fund this big wedding that you wanted!”
“I just want you there with me for these things. Even if they aren’t important to you, it’s important to me,” you said, your energy dwindling. He always found a way to make you feel bad, and you looked past it for the sake of your heart. You loved him and did everything you could to make him love you in return. If that meant placating your feelings, you’d do it. 
“If it’s so important to you, then just go. You can tell me all about it when I get home tomorrow.”
That was the best resolution you’d get, and there was no use fighting anymore. He would always win. 
“Okay,” you acquiesced. “I’ll do that.”
Bennett rose from his chair and met you around the kitchen counter with a big hug. He rested his chin on your head as you melted into his chest.
“I love you, honey. I don’t want you angry at me all the time. You know I’m trying my hardest to be everywhere all at once. Just work with me, okay?” he sighed.
“I’m sorry, I’ll be better about it. I love you, too,” you whispered.
A firm knock on your front door jolted you awake from the flood of memories in your dreams. The shadows in your room were a telltale sign you had slept through most of the afternoon, which would put a hefty dent in the list of never-ending work you needed to finish. Sulking through the house to the front door, you smoothed down your hair and sweater, trying to gather your bearings. With one last heavy inhale, you pried the door open and stood paralyzed at the further standing before you. 
Joel said your name softly, his eyes tired and hair ruffled at the crown of his head. He looked as just a mess as you did, but most definitely for different reasons.
“Mr. Miller,” you said. “What are you doing here?”
He swayed back on his heels, holding your eyes apologetically. It was written all over his face; he didn’t need to say the words.
“Our conversation earlier ain’t sittin’ right with me,” he sighed.
“I overstepped, and I’m sorry,” you said honestly. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”
Joel held his hand in protest, shaking his head at your words.
“Don’t apologize, okay? You were right about everything. I shoulda been there, and I wasn’t. I let her down.”
“Mr. Miller, I—.”
“I let her down,” he repeated. “And I let you down.”
You stood in stunned silence, trying to understand his words. Joel watched you turn the words over in your head, his eyes never leaving yours. He said everything you had ever asked to hear from Bennett in just a few words. You didn’t understand the emotions stirring inside you, nor could you control the tears welling in your eyes. This would be the second time you cried today, and now it would be the second time you cried in front of Joel. 
“You didn’t let me down,” you faltered. 
“I did. I want you to see that I’m not a bad father, but I seem to keep makin’ mistakes left and right. She expected me to be there, and so did you. I’m the type of man who makes and keeps his promises, but lately, I’ve been fallin’ short. It ain’t fair to her, and it ain’t fair to you.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” you whispered, wiping your tears. 
“I sure as hell do,” he protested. “I owe you an apology. I’m sorry, okay? I’m gonna do better about bein’ there for her, and I want you to see that. I don’t wanna keep fuckin’ it all up.”
“Did you tell her that?” You asked. 
“I did, and now I’m tellin’ you. I want you holdin’ me accountable on all this, and I want you to call me out on my bullshit like you did earlier. I needed to hear all that.”
“I was just angry. I didn’t need to be that mean to you.”
Joel lifted his hand to brush away a stray tear falling down your cheek, the touch of his hand on your skin electrifying you. You flinched away, trying to curl into yourself. He noticed your movements, letting his hand fall back to his side. You glanced down, watching him clench his hand into a fist as if he were trying to control an urge inside of him. You were trying to do the same; being near him scared you. It shocked you to see someone act mature and actually own up to their faults; it was something Bennett rarely did. You couldn’t make sense of it. 
“There ain’t a single part of me that’s mad at you, okay? Don’t ever be afraid to speak your mind—at least not with me,” Joel said. 
You only nodded, too afraid that if you spoke now, you’d succumb to an ugly sob. Joel’s broad frame was shadowed and looming over you in the dying sunlight, a cloud over the haze inside your mind. Joel didn’t understand the weight in those words, the way they sewed shut the empty holes left inside you. It wasn’t Bennett saying them, and it definitely didn’t rewrite the past, but it was writing the future. It was a future with the possibility that you weren’t as broken as you thought. 
“Thank you,” you muttered. “I—just thank you.”
“Somethin’ tells me you ain’t been told these things before, huh?” Joel prodded. 
“It doesn’t matter. I appreciate you taking the time to come out here, and I’m sorry again. I promise I’ll be better about my anger,” you laughed, hoping you’d be able to brush it off with a forced smile. 
Joel saw right through you; his lips tugged down into a frown. You watched the crease between his eyebrows appear as he watched you minimize yourself right back down to zero. It wasn’t easier that way—making yourself small. Too big, and you’d be too much to handle. You were tired of being too much for anyone; it had already been your downfall once before. 
“Whoever made you feel like y’need to apologize all the time is a real piece of shit,” Joel huffed. 
“It’s alright, Mr. Miller. Thank you again for stopping by.”
“It’s the least I could do. And y’know what? I’d be happy if you joined me at the rest of her games. She loved havin’ you there, and I know it would mean a lot to her to see you on the sidelines again. Think that’s somethin’ you’d interested in?”
“I’ll think about it, yeah,” you smiled. 
“Yeah? Good,” he exhaled. 
Joel met you with a genuine smile, his eyes dancing over your face. You swayed in the doorway, unsure of what to do now that the conversation was coming to an end. A strange part of you didn’t want it to end; the stillness with him had managed to bottle away all of the lingering memories of Bennett, even if only for a moment. You’d take this over, crying yourself asleep like so often did. 
“You should head home to Sarah,” you sighed. “I hope you have a good weekend, Mr. Miller.”
“You have a g’night, alright?”
You watched him walk down the porch steps, the muscles in his back tense as he retreated back to his truck. You should have walked your ass back inside, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. Before opening the truck door, Joel glanced back at you, waving a quick goodbye. You waved back and waited until his truck dissolved into the distance to finally shut your door and sit in the blaring silence. 
You watched the night fade away from the comfort of your couch, a half-eaten sandwich in front of you and a wine glass in hand. Not only did you overstep your boundaries as a teacher, but you overstepped every possible rule between a teacher and parent. Despite what happened at the bar with Joel, he was still Sarah’s dad and completely undeserving of the anger you had toward him today. He was slipping behind every brick wall you had built up around you, a fortress no one could penetrate, yet he was managing to do it so effortlessly. And it was infuriating. How were you supposed to protect yourself from him? Bennett had been the perfect man at the start, always saying the right things and showing his love in so many different ways, but even with the rose-colored glasses on, that all crumpled away as time moved on. Nothing about your relationship was perfect, yet you tried to mend the broken pieces in hopes the possibility of marriage would solve all your problems. But clearly, it didn’t. It never even made it to marriage.
You weren’t even considering dating Joel, but that didn’t stop you from doubting he would be any different than Bennett. Sure, he might seem interested now, but that would change once he saw every damaged piece of you. You were hardly controlling your emotions, as it were, so why would you spend the time sharing the rawest parts of yourself with someone who would end up leaving?
I’ll do better, you told yourself. Bottle it away.
Another week passed by without fuss; the students passed their practice exams and had even begun working on their group presentations on the new poetry unit you had created. After next week's midterm exams, you’d be on a plane heading to Boston to see your family during the fall break. You hadn’t been home in over a year, and you were well aware of the fact your parents and sisters missed you. It’s not that you didn’t miss them, but going home was another reminder of all you had lost. But you’d steer clear of the roads you’d traveled down with Bennett, you’d avoid the bars and restaurants he had taken you to, and you’d absolutely banish all thoughts of returning to the Public Garden where he had proposed. Every corner of your hometown was haunted by the ghosts of what had been, but you’d brave it for the sake of family. 
You had forfeited any thought of going to the soccer game out of sheer self-preservation. Being around Joel more than necessary was putting you at risk for an inevitable heartbreak, and it just wasn’t something you were ready to deal with. You didn’t want to let Sarah down, but Joel would be there for her, and that mattered more than you standing on the sidelines. She didn’t need you there; you’d only gone to the game to fill a void within her life. Joel was going to stick to his word, and you’d be able to maintain your teacher-parent relationship once again. You still had yet to forgive yourself for Saturday’s outburst. 
It wasn’t until Thursday when Sarah approached you, that you were reminded of the game.
When she approached your desk at the end of class, she had her textbook in hand and her backpack slung over her shoulder. You were feeling particularly drained from the day after spending most of the night tossing and turning between nightmares, and you had to muster up the strength to keep things light between you and her.
“So,” she started, a bright smile plastered on her face. “My dad said you might come to the game Saturday.”
“Oh, yeah. I—I haven’t decided yet. I’ve got to make sure everything is prepped for testing next week,” you lied.
“Oh,” her face fell. “That’s okay. I know the exams are important.”
Fuck.
You were transported right back to the kitchen with Bennett.
“I’m sure the prep work can wait till after the game,” you smiled, already giving up on your initial plans to avoid everything—everything being Joel Miller.
“If you don’t want to come…” Sarah trailed off, looking down at her sneakers.
“Hey,” you said softly. Her eyes traveled up to meet yours again. “I’ll be there. You have my word.”
Sarah perked up, nodding her head enthusiastically. 
“I’ll tell my dad! Maybe we can all get lunch after!” She babbled excitedly. 
Oh, Christ. 
“I’m sure you guys will want the day together,” you smiled, your patient wearing. “Go enjoy your night, Sarah. I’ll see you tomorrow in class. Don’t forget your notes on Shakespeare!”
“Bye, Miss Smith!”
You watched her sprint out of the room to catch up with her friends, and you sunk into your chair, dreading what may come during the weekend. 
Maria stopped by your classroom after the final bell, skeptically looking at you while you gathered your work bag. Thankfully, you both had Thursdays free of crosswalk duty, and you were ready to get home and sulk away under the guise of cheap wine and a bubble bath. 
“You’re extra grumpy today,” Maria noted, slinging her large purse over one shoulder. 
“I’m not grumpy,” you huffed. “I’m fucked. Completely fucked.”
She barked a laugh and watched you stuff files into your bag before you grabbed your keys and shooed her out to lock the door. The hallways were empty, except for a few teachers trickling out, and you walked a pace quicker, trying to escape the building before anyone else stopped you. 
“Why do I get a feeling this may be because of a certain parent?” She asked, shoving into you playfully. 
“Yes,” you grumbled. 
“Explain!”
“Ugh, okay. Listen, all of this is against my own will, okay?” 
You peered over at her, seeing a wicked smile splitting across her face. If anyone was on board with your confused emotions towards Joel Miller, it was Maria. She had been all for it since day one, and you knew she wouldn’t shut up about it until she saw you and him together. Which wouldn’t be happening. 
You dive into retelling the events of Saturday, including the outburst and the conversation with Joel that had followed. All through your rambling, Maria was squealing like a little girl and inserting small remarks here and there—all of which revolved around the idea that you should fuck out your feelings and get it over with. 
“Maria,” you snapped. “I’m not going to fuck him! Would you quit that?”
She shrugged, laughing off your stubbornness. 
“All I’m saying is that there is clearly some sort of chemistry between you both,” she sassed. “One night of hot sex might clear your mind, and you can resume your up-tight ‘teacher-parent’ bullshit you’re trying so hard to keep.”
“It’s not bullshit, Maria,” you argued. “It’s called being professional.”
You both had made it to the parking lot, and you tried to inch closer to your car in hopes of coming out unscathed from this conversation. But Maria was anything but relentless. 
“You really need to get laid,” Maria huffed. “Dust off the cobwebs and get back out there.”
“I’m perfectly fine with how my life is right now. I don’t need to get laid, and I certainly don’t need to be in a relationship.”
Maria grabbed your hands in hers, leveling you with a stern look under her thick mascara-coated lashes. With her lips set in a firm line, she squeezed your hands.
“It’s been two years,” she sighed. “Stop letting Bennett control your life. He’s in the past, and you need to find a new future—preferably one where you’re happy and in love.”
You squeezed her fingers in return, giving her a sad smile. You knew somewhere inside you that she was right, but it wasn’t in the cards for you right now. Not when you still had so much healing to do. 
“Thank you, Maria,” you whispered. 
When you arrived at the school, the soccer game had already begun. Your car sat idle in the parking lot for nearly twenty minutes until you finally found the strength to head toward the soccer fields. Among the line of parents on the sidelines, Joel was standing further away, his body swaying against the windy morning as his eyes stay focused on the field. You walked up slowly, smoothing out your t-shirt and running sweaty palms over your jeans. You definitely didn’t spend too much time getting ready for a simple game. As if he felt your energy circling him, Joel turned toward you with a beautiful smile breaking across his face. 
“I was hopin’ you’d show up,” he said. 
“Good morning, Mr. Miller,” you greeted. 
You weren’t sure what to do with yourself beside him, so you mimicked his stance and folded your arms over your chest. With the morning sun rising above the soccer field, you watched as his skin glowed in the sunlight, his tanned skin illuminated in the soft hues of the sunrise. He was undeniably gorgeous, but you forced that thought away along with all of the unruly ones that seemed to constantly evade your mind. 
“Sarah’s doin’ great out there so far,” he mentioned. “Got herself close to scorin’ a goal ten minutes ago. No doubt she’ll get one at some point.”
“I bet she will. She’s amazing out there.”
Joel beamed at your compliments of his daughter, his eyes tracking her as she ran across the field. A teammate shot the ball to her, and you both stood silently as she kept control of it toward the goal. Instead of taking the shot herself, she crossed the ball to another teammate, letting them score the first goal of the game. The parents on the sidelines sounded off with a round of cheers, and you and Joel joined in on the excitement. 
“She’s a team player,” you commented. “That’s a good quality.”
“That’s my girl,” he smiled proudly. 
This. This is what you had hoped to see for Sarah. A dad who was present and proud of her accomplishments. You could give her all the applause in the world, but his voice cheering above the rest was what mattered the most. 
There was a lull in conversation for a while as you both watched the game with rapt attention. You tried hard not to notice the way Joel shifted closer to you or the fact that he had dropped his arms so that he could casually brush his against yours. Each touch of his skin against yours was like a wave of heat rushing through your body, an electric current that started with him and ended with you. There was no doubt he did it on purpose, but you did nothing to stop it. You were losing the war between self-restraint and vulnerability. 
“How’s she likin’ class?” He asked, making small talk. 
You shrugged, glancing at him with an easy smile. 
“She’s one of the best kids in her grade. This new unit we’re working on will be a challenge, but I know she’s up for it.”
“What’s the new unit?”
“Poetry.”
Joel snorted a laugh, his fingers brushing against the denim on your leg. You shifted to glare at him, amused at his response. 
“What’s so funny, Mr. Miller?”
He ran a hand through the curls atop his head, giving you a lopsided grin. 
“Nothin’,” he chuckled. “Just don’t understand why poetry is so popular in schools nowadays.”
“Poetry has always been popular,” you said pointedly. 
“Has it? Must not have paid much attention back in the day,” he smirked. 
“It’s my favorite unit to teach,” you confessed. “I think poetry gets a bad rap—clearly—but it’s important to understand the way words can convey so many layered emotions in the simplest of ways.”
Joel eyed you as you spoke, nodding along with you as you spoke. Even if he wasn’t completely sold on the idea of poetry, you enjoyed how attentive he was to the conversation. In the distance, you heard the parents cheer again, and you glanced at the field to see Sarah running with the ball toward the goal. 
“Look!” You said, pointing toward the field.
Joel snapped his head back to his daughter, watching as she sent the ball soaring into the net. You jumped up and down, clapping at her goal and yelling out her name in excitement.
“That’s my girl!” Joel cheered. “Way to go, Sarah!”
Sarah looked over at him, her cheeks rosy from the play, and shot him two thumbs up. Joel returned the same hand gesture; his cheeks stretched wide with a smile as he watched his daughter dance into an embrace from her teammate. 
“You were sayin’,” he pressed, his eyes sliding back to you. 
“Oh,” you laughed. “That’s okay. I don’t want to bore you with all the school talk.”
“You ain’t borin’ me. I wanna hear what you have to say.”
Your cheeks warmed at his words, realizing he wasn’t just asking these things to make small talk. He sincerely wanted to know the things you were interested in and the work you did, which was far from what you received from Bennett. Half the time you talked about your lessons, Bennett would just aimlessly nod while typing his emails and debriefs, his attention far away from you.
“Well, I’m starting off by teaching them about Shakespeare,” you explained, watching Joel open his mouth to make a retort. You held your hand up in defense and continued. “Before you go complaining about Shakespeare, I’ll have you know he’s one of the most renowned dramatists in history. His stylist choices in his playwrights were unlike anything else, and his work has completely impacted modern-day English. It’s because of him that we have so many words and phrases in the English language. Say what you want, but he really is worth learning about.”
Joel studied you for a moment, his lips curving up at the corners. You weren’t used to rambling off about useless things, more because you never really had the chance in the past. It was exciting to talk about the things you were passionate about, and you didn’t realize you’d find that moment being with Joel Miller. 
“Maybe I need to read some of his work,” Joel said. “What’s your favorite?”
“My favorite?” You blinked at him. “Oh, um, it’s cliche, but my favorite is Romeo and Juliet. That’s what I’m starting with on the unit.”
“Sarah got a copy of it?” he asked. 
“She should, yes.”
“Might need to steal it from her so I can see what all this fuss is about,” he smiled, bumping his arm into yours. 
“You don’t need to do all that,” you muttered. “I’m sure Sarah could tell you all about it after she’s done reading it.”
“I’m sure she could,” he acknowledged. “But maybe I'd like to do the research.”
“Research?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow. 
Joel leaned into you, his face drawn closer to yours. 
“Yeah, research,” he repeated. “I wanna know why y’like it so much.”
Your mouth opened and closed, all words seemingly melting from your brain. What the hell were you supposed to say to that? He wanted to take the time to understand your interests… but why? Once again, Joel was proving to be everything you never saw in Bennett. And it scared the fuck out of you. Because you couldn’t date Joel, nor did you want to. Giving yourself up to another person, exposing those vulnerable parts of yourself like that would just be inviting the possibility of another heartbreak. 
“I can save you the time and tell you instead,” you offered. 
“Nah,” he smiled. “I wanna find out myself.”
The game came to a close, with the school team winning 2-0. Joel embraced Sarah when she ran off the field, wrapping her into a gigantic bear hug and planting a kiss on her forehead. You gave her a small high five, congratulating her on the win. You followed them out to the parking lot, watching as Joel kept his arm wrapped around Sarah’s narrow frame. From this angle, they looked like the perfect father-daughter duo, and your heart seized with happiness knowing he had kept his word. 
Digging through your purse for your car keys, you said a quick goodbye and made a beeline for your car. You wouldn’t insert yourself in the rest of their day; you needed to find some distance between you and Joel before he started crawling further under your skin. But as you tugged open your car door, a warmth grew behind you, and you turned to see Joel standing a few steps away. Sarah was nowhere in sight, so you figured she was already waiting for him in his truck. 
“Yes?” You asked, standing idle between the open door and Joel’s tall body. 
His eyes bounced between your lips and your eyes, never settling on one too long. 
“Look, this is gonna sound forward of me, and I can probably guess your answer,” he started. “But can I take you out to dinner sometime? As a ‘thank you' for everything.”
“Mr. Miller,” you sighed. “I appreciate the invitation, but this needs to remain purely professional. I’m Sarah’s teacher, and I don’t think that would be appropriate.”
He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, his eyes trailing to the ground. Despite every cell inside your body screaming yes, you needed to stick to your rules—whatever the hell they were.
“I figured you’d say that,” he mumbled. "Listen, let me give you my number at least. If you ever change your mind, or if you need someone to drive you home from the bar, y’can shoot me a call. Is that okay?”
“I…” You trailed off, considering his offer. “Yeah, that’s okay.”
You searched for your phone in your purse, handing it over to him with shaky hands. His fingers brushed against yours as he took it, a crackle of energy bursting through your skin at his touch. He must have noticed, too, because his eyes met yours before he typed in his number. With a few more clicks on your phone, he handed it back, brushing his hand over yours once more. 
“I sent myself a text on it,” he confessed. “Now I have yours, just in case of anything, y’know?”
“Yeah, just in case.”
Joel gave you a soft smile before turning and walking away. You watched his figure fade into the cars still filling the parking lot and caught him glancing back at you one last time. You stared down at your phone, seeing the text lit up on the screen. He had sent one simple word to himself: your name. Not Miss Smith, not ‘Sarah’s teacher’, but your name. 
You opened his contact information and typed one simple word: Joel
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t4tschmidt · 6 months
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hey!! could we get a one shot abt submissive and sensitive mike :) not really any specifics maybe just like pet names and whines and stuff
YOU KNOW WHATS UP that man is a huge whimperer godbless 🙏🙏🙏
cws; sub!mike, gn reader with slight dom, lots of petnames and whining, oral/handjob, swallowing
Mike has definitely been more of a giver then a receiver so far. You assumed that’s just naturally what gets him off the most and you trust that if he wanted something from you he’d ask. However you can clearly tell he’s been hot and bothered all day. He kept shifting around in his jeans when you came over at lunch and when you came up behind him while he was doing the dishes his whole body tensed and he was biting his lip holding back any reaction to the tiny amount of friction you provided him.
A couple hours had passed and now you and him had the house to yourselves as Abby was at a sleepover with one of her school friends. The two of you decided to watch a movie but every innocent touch to his knee or leaning your head against his shoulder nearly made him flinch.
Around the middle of the movie you started to get bored with the plot and instead decided to give in to what you were thinking about all day, placing your hand on his knee and sliding it up to rub his thigh.
You weren’t looking but Mike’s eyes widened, he immediately shifted his hips to try and hide that the tiniest of touches made his cock throb in his pants. You kept rubbing a couple more times getting closer and closer to his waistband when you finally decided to look over.
He already seemed like a mess, lip being worked between his teeth and his eyes wide.
“Do you wanna……?”
“It’s just the two of us tonight, we can do whatever we’d like,” you smiled an innocent smile at him admiring how his cheeks were already red at the thought of that freedom.
He immediately slid his hands around your waist and squeezed the way you liked it, pressing up to kiss you with intensity. You reciprocated immediately and he began to lower you backwards on the couch so he could lie between your legs but you detached your arms from around his back and stopped yourself before you were fully laying down.
“I was thinking we could do something different tonight, baby?”
“I’m listening,” he responded, his eyes focused on how your lips got all pretty and flushed when the two of you made out.
You reached your hand out to his chest and gently pushed him back to where he was originally sitting, sliding from the couch to the floor and sitting on your knees between his legs. “You always give to me and you’re always focused on my pleasure and if I get to cum but you haven’t let me take care of you, my pretty boy?”
His whole cheeks were flushed a visible red that you didn’t see often unless you brought out the petnames. His mouth was agape and he stammered, clearly loosing a little more control as you rubbed your head against the inside of his knee.
“I-um, we could definitely, ah-“ he couldn’t focus with you looking so pretty between his thighs.
“I need a yes or a no baby, if it makes you nervous we can stop whenever you’d like.”
“Yes. Yes.” The first yes came out desperate, and he looked embarrassed with himself for how quickly it tumbled out of his mouth.
He was incredibly worked up and you hadn’t even touched him yet, his thin pyjama pants showed the outline of his quickly hardening length. You properly palmed it through the fabric, smiling as he strained harder and harder against the thin fabric. You only teased him through the fabric a little before pulling his pants down enough for his whole cock to spring out.
He’d been controlling himself so well today and you think he deserved a little reward for that. You wrapped your hand around his length which had already begun to drip precum down the shaft and gave it a single pump before you heard a loud low whine from above you.
It took you by surprise because Mike was never that vocal in bed, preferring to focus on you and stay quiet. He must have known that too because he slapped his hand over his mouth immediately, avoiding your gaze.
You knew you’d just uncovered something though and you’d use it to your full advantage. You gave it a couple more pumps and coated his cock in his own shiny slick and a couple whimpers leaked out of his mouth. Sweet little sounds that rolled off his tongue that you’d never heard before.
“Get that hand off your mouth baby, I wanna hear you loud and clear.”
As his hand slipped away from his mouth at your command his head tilted fully back, panting and whinining desperately trying not to buck into your hand. Watching his mouth open all you wanted to do was stick your fingers in, making him suck them under you and really feel for those pretty sounds.
Your thrusts got wetter and sloppier, squeezing his cock while his noises got louder and louder until the room was filled with the wet slap of your hand on his dick and his loud moans.
“Mmmf. Baby-Mmm!-B-Baby, fuck, hnng,.,mmhnngf……”
Occasionally a couple swears slip out of his mouth which go straight to your own crotch. You had half the mind to stick your hand down your own pants but this was focused on Mike tonight.
He starts to let loose and desperately buck into your hand, jacking himself off with your fist and moaning your name.
He’s clearly getting close by the way his thighs are flexing and his low little whimpers have turned into full on begs and whines for more.
“God, hnng, fuck my god, w-what are you doing? H-Hey, why’d you-Mmmf!” You let your hand slip away, precum absolutely soaking your entire palm and sticking to it in thin strands when you pulled away. He protested, panting and drooling and finally looking down at you.
You made clear eye contact with him, repositioning yourself and sticking out your tongue to lick a long slow stripe from his base to tip. His moan nearly turned into a scream and you were basking in how absolutely vocal he was being.
You swirled the tip in your mouth, taking more in your mouth at an incredibly tantalizing pace when he gripped your shoulder hard and with half of it in your mouth you sucked.
“B-Baby, ah ah ah! I’m, f-fuck, I’m gonna-“
Yelling your name he grabbed your shoulder so hard you thought it might bruise, desperately forcing himself not to grab your head and buck until his tip hit the back of your throat.
Warmth spilled straight into your mouth, hot thick wet loads coating the inside of your mouth and making yourself swallow them. His cum was thick and there was a lot of it, it dripped down your chin and you lapped at the head trying to catch as much of it as you could.
His eyes were closed and he was panting hard. It took him a moment to realize what he’d done and his eyes immediately went wide, loosening his grip on your shoulder and using his other hand to cup your cheek.
“Shit, honey, I’m so sorry! I should’ve warned you that I was close. Are you okay? Do you want me to get a towel—“
You gently grabbed the hand that was cradling your face, looking straight up at him again. “Calm down Mike, that was really hot and it was nice to see you let loose a little,” you got off your knees, sliding back up onto the couch and moving his face with you. You leaned in close to his ear. “Plus I didn’t know you were such a screamer~”
He groaned in embarrassment, covering his face with his elbows and pulling his softening cock back into his pants. “I’ll totally get you back for that, babe.”
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finnsbubblegum · 1 year
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I Don’t Deserve You {Part 2} (Joel Miller x Reader)
Pairing: post-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader
Warnings: fluff, protective joel, age gap (reader is in her 20s and Joel is in his 50s), stalking, sexual assault attempt (lmk if i missed any)
Summary: You were popular in Jackson but you have been single your whole life. Despite many men flirting with you, you have never found your ideal type. Until one day, you saw Joel and you fell in love at first sight.  But he felt insecure.
Words count: 2.9k 
A/N: This is part 2 for I Don’t Deserve You Part 1. Thank you to everyone who read my fanfic! 
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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
It was a usual Monday after the night Joel saved you from Josh. You woke up early and got ready to work and meet your students. 
“Good morning, kids! How was your weekend?” You asked the students with a soft tone.
“I watched a movie with my dad last night!” A girl shouted.
“It was my birthday yesterday!” Another girl shouted.
They were active and you were always happy to listen to their stories. Their stories were always interesting to you. You loved how children were so pure and innocent. 
“Oh really? Well, happy birthday to you! Why don’t we all sing happy birthday to Samantha?” 
You invited the other students to sing the Happy Birthday song for Samantha. Each of the students followed your clap and sang the Happy Birthday song together. The day went and it was already time for the class to be dismissed. 
“Okay everyone! Class is dismissed! Don’t forget to do your homework!”
Everyone was packing their bags hurriedly and you glanced at the door. The door had a rectangle transparent glass and you saw Joel. When he caught your eye, he quickly hid. You found him so cute and felt butterflies in your stomach. It felt like you were in your teenage years all over again. You shook your head and smiled. The kids were starting to leave one by one and you began to pack your stuff on the table. 
“I saw you there Joel.” You teased Joel who was still hiding.
“Uhm.. Sorry.” He slowly walked inside the class and cleared his throat.
“You caught me.” He smiled shyly and put his hand on the nape of his neck.
“Are you stalking me now?” You joked.
“Absolutely not. I was just around and thought I’d stop by to see how you’re teaching the kids. Hope you didn’t teach them curse words.” He joked remembering his last joke at the bar that was cut off by Josh’s appearance.
“Of course not.” You scoffed and slightly hit his chest. 
“Are you heading home now?” Joel put his hands on his waist.
“Yes, all the kids have gone home so I should go home now.”
“I’ll walk you home.” Joel gestured a movement from his hands as if he was asking you to follow him.
“Sure. Thank you.” You grabbed your purse and jacket.
Joel wasn’t actually around the area. He was not patrolling that day and couldn’t keep thinking about last night. He was worried that Josh might come to you and bother you again. After thinking about it for a few hours, he decided to visit you at school and walk you home. He thought that it was the least thing he could do to protect you. Without realizing it, he was starting to have feelings towards you. 
“Do you want to come in and have dinner with me tonight? I can cook something for us.” You hoped Joel would say yes before you got in your house.
“Sure. Ellie is making friends now so she often stays out late.” 
“Great. Come in.” You welcomed Joel.
You hung your jacket and Joel did the same. 
“Please make yourself at home while I cook dinner.” You smiled at Joel.
Joel nodded and sat on the sofa in your living room. You walked to your kitchen, opened your fridge and took out some ingredients. 
“Can I help you with somethin’?” Joel suddenly stood up and walked towards you.
“No, no. I’m good. Let me serve you dinner tonight.” Joel was your guest so you wanted to serve him.
“Okay.” Joel walked away and started to look around your house.
“You have a lot of books.” Joel stopped at your bookshelf.
“Oh, yes. I love to read. I’m a teacher.” You laughed.
“Right.” Joel chuckled.
After a few moments of banter while you were preparing dinner, you were finally done.
“Dinner’s ready.” You called for Joel.
He looked back from the sofa and hurried his way to the dining table.
“Smells good.” He sniffed.
You both started eating. You were nervous because you were scared Joel might not like your cooking. And your legs were shaking under the table.
“Hmm.. It’s delicious. Thank you.” Joel praised your food.
“Phew.. I was scared you didn’t like it.” You sighed.
“Are you kidding? This is the best meal I’ve ever had in the past 20 years.” He chuckled as he shoved another spoonful of your cooking.
“Thank you, Joel. You’re really sweet.” You were touched hearing his words.
The two of you had conversations as you finished your dinner. 
“Let me wash the dishes. You cooked so I will wash the dishes.” Joel offered.
“Sure.” You gave your dishes to Joel.
You watched him from behind and got lost in your fantasy. You were imagining a life where you and Joel lived under the same roof as family. And you were the wife making dinner for your husband when he got off from work. He looked dashing from behind and his shoulder was broad. You imagined how it would feel kissing him. But you didn’t want to rush so you had to hold yourself. You hit your head and got back to reality. 
“Done.” Joel wiped his hands with a towel.
“Thank you, Joel. For washing the dishes.” 
“It’s nothin’. You cooked for me so it’s fair if I wash the dishes.” He shook his head.
You wondered how a man like him treated you so nice. You kept wondering why he didn’t come into your life sooner. Then you remembered why. You were half his age. But you didn’t care. As long as he made you happy, you didn’t care about anything.
You and Joel spent a few hours hanging out at your house then it was time for him to go home.
“I should probably head home.” Joel looked at you.
“Yeah, sure. Thank you for walking me home today.”
“Anytime. Thank you for the meal. It was delicious.” Joel thanked you.
You chuckled as you walked him to your door and grabbed his jacket.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Joel raised his eyebrows.
“Sure. See you tomorrow.” You waved your hand goodbye to Joel.
The next day, Joel came and picked you up from work. He walked you home and had dinner with you for the second day, third day, fourth day, and it went on and on. Except when it was his turn to go on patrol, he couldn’t walk you home. But he would always tell you in advance if he couldn’t walk you home. 
Joel and you often hung out in the city as well. Since you got close with Joel, Josh had never shown up. He just stared at you from afar but he had never approached you. You even had less guys flirting with you. As time went by, people were starting to recognize your relationship with him. People were making rumors and talking about you and Joel. They were talking about how far your age gap was and how Joel didn’t deserve you. He was old and ruthless but you were young and kind. You didn’t care what anyone said. Joel had never hurt you, he was always respectful, he was definitely not like what other people said. As a matter of fact, Joel had never been kind to anyone but you. 
Your feelings towards Joel have grown deeper and deeper. On the other side, you had no idea how Joel felt towards you. Did he like you or did he just see you as a kid who needed protection? But you didn’t want this to end so you kept your feelings hidden until it was 2 months since you and Joel spent time together. You couldn’t hold your feelings hidden any longer.
It was another usual dinner with Joel. You watched him as he was walking outside your front porch. 
“Joel.” You stopped him before he walked his way home.
“Huh?” He raised his eyebrows and looked back.
“Can I ask you something?” You wiped your sweaty hands to your jeans.
“Sure. What is it?” He walked his way back to your porch where you were standing, resting his hands on the handrail.
“What are we, Joel? I mean - I - I like you, Joel.” You confessed your feelings to Joel and stepped closer to him.
Instead of telling you the way he felt about you, he took a step back. 
“No.” His voice was really low, he shook his head and looked down.
Your eyes were getting blurry as tears welled up in your eyes. 
“I’m sorry.” Joel quickly walked away from you.
“Joel.. Please..” You tried to stop him but you thought it was better to stay.
You were heartbroken. You went to your bedroom, covered your face with your pillow and cried all night.
On his way home, Joel was also heartbroken. He couldn’t see you cry like that, especially because of him. He regretted leaving you hanging like that. He wished he could hug you and comfort you. But he knew he shouldn’t. He had heard the rumors and he agreed to what people were saying. He regretted treating you nice if it would end up breaking your heart. He shouldn’t give you hope in the first place. Since then, Joel started avoiding you. He didn’t walk you home and didn’t have dinner with you. You and Joel ended just like that.
You hadn’t seen Joel since. Your days went so slow. Days felt weeks, weeks felt months, months felt years. It has been a month and you hated this feeling. You wanted closure so you decided to find Joel. You walked to his house and knocked on his door.
“Hi!” It was Ellie.
“Uhm.. Hi! Is Joel home?” You asked Ellie.
“Yeah! Joel! Someone’s here looking for you!” Ellie shouted and called Joel.
Joel made his way down stairs and his eyes widened when he saw you at his front door.
“We need to talk, please.” You begged Joel.
“Okay.” Joel gestured to Ellie to go, he closed the door and invited you to sit on the patio chairs at his front porch.
You sat with him but he didn’t say anything. So you started the conversation.
“Did I do something wrong, Joel?” You tried to find what was wrong to fix your relationship with him.
“No.” He replied coldly.
“It’s okay. Just tell me, Joel. Let me fix us.” You begged him.
“It’s not you. It’s me.” Joel wanted the best for you.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. What do you mean?” You were confused.
“I know you heard about the rumors. They were right. I don’t deserve you. I’m old. I’ve done bad things. I’ve killed people. And you’re young, beautiful…inside out, kind, perfect and everythin’. You deserve someone way better than me. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have started anythin’ with you. I realized I was crossin’ the line, that's why it’s better that I stopped before I hurt you more.” Joel put his elbow on his knees as he explained to you.
“That’s not right. I don’t care what people say, Joel. You treated me so nice. You’ve never hurt me. You protect me, Joel.” You shook your head in denial.
“Don’t you get it? I don’t deserve you.” Joel started to raise his voice.
“No, Joel. Please. Give me a chance. I can’t live without you. Please. Give us a chance.” You cried as you begged him.
Joel wanted to cry but he held it. He didn’t want to look weak. Instead he stood up and asked you to leave. 
“I promise I won’t see you again.” Joel’s words made your heart even wretched.
“Joel, please..don’t..Can you at least give me a hug as a goodbye? Please?” You grabbed his wrist.
Joel wanted to hug you. He really did. But it would just make him change his mind. If he hugged you, he might not be able to let you go. So he let go of your hand and walked inside his house. You cried so loud and kneeled in front of his door. Hoping for Joel to come out and change his mind, but a few hours went by and he didn’t appear. You were getting hopeless so you decided to go home. You cried on your walk and you didn’t realize someone was following you. You grabbed your keys and went inside your house. Someone was holding your door before you closed it. 
“Joel?” You hoped Joel was following you home.
“Nuh-uh baby. It’s me. Josh.” Josh smirked.
You gasped and started to shake. 
“Wh-what are you do-doing?” Josh could hear you were scared.
“I told you that old man is no good, baby. You should have been with me in the first place. I wouldn’t make you cry. I’m way better than him. That old man knows it. He really doesn’t deserve you. But I deserve you.” It turned out that Josh had been stalking you and he was eavesdropping your conversation with Joel.
“No. Josh. Please get out of my house.” You tried to act like you were not scared but he could see you were shaking.
“I’m not going anywhere, baby. You’re mine now.” Josh claimed you as his because he knew Joel wouldn’t be there to protect you from him anymore.
“No, please go.” You walked backwards as he slowly walked towards you.
On the other side, Joel kept thinking about what he had said to you. He knew it was for the best but somehow he felt something weird in his heart. He guessed maybe he should have hugged you goodbye. He didn’t hear your cries anymore so he decided to walk to your house. He saw your door was left open and he heard a loud thud and your scream. Joel’s heart was beating faster as he rushed inside your house.
“Stay still!” Josh was on top of you, holding your hands, trying to take off your pants.
“Josh, stop it!” You tried to push Josh away but he was too heavy.
Joel’s eyes widened as he was shocked to see what was happening. He ran towards you, grabbed Josh from behind and threw him aside. Josh was hurting laying on the floor. Joel’s eyes locked on Josh and punched him over and over again. Josh’s face was full of blood and he was begging for Joel to stop. 
“Don’t you ever touch her again! You lay a hand on her again, I’ll break your arm!” Joel lifted Josh by his collar and yelled at his face.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Josh begged Joel for his life.
“Now get the fuck out of this house and never show your face again!” Joel pointed his finger towards the door as he raised his voice again.
Joel closed the door after Josh crawled his way out of your house. You were in shock, crying, hyperventilating, shaking, and holding your ripped shirt to cover yourself. You had never seen Joel like this before. He was scary when he was angry just like what other people in the town talked about.  
“Hey, are you okay?” Joel’s voice was different from seconds ago.
He sounded very soft. He took off his jacket and put it on you. 
“I got you, babygirl. I got you.” He looked at you with worried eyes. (TLOU ep 8 reference 😘)
He wiped your tears with his thumb and hugged you. His hands rubbed your back in circles until your breathing was normal again. 
“Can you stand?” He asked you.
You nodded and guided him to your bedroom. He kept holding your arm, holding your weight as you walked. You opened your closet to get new clothes and changed into a new one. Joel faced the wall as you changed your clothes. He was always respectful to you. Not like the other guys you had met.
“Here.” You gave Joel his jacket back.
“Do you want me to stay?” He thought he would stay for the night to make sure you were safe.
“Will you?” You asked Joel with your puppy eyes as you sat on the bed.
“Of course, darlin’. I don’t want Josh to come here again and hurt you.” Joel walked to your bedroom door.
“Where are you going? I thought you’re staying.” You were confused.
“I am. I’m sleepin’ on the couch.” 
You chuckled. Everytime he did or said something, you fell in love with him more.
“Joel, stay here.” You pat the empty space beside you on your bed.
“No. I shouldn’t.” He still kept his chivalry.
“Joel, please. I don’t think I can sleep if you’re not next to me. I feel safe when I’m with you. Please.” You begged Joel.
“Okay.” Joel shyly moved his way to your bed and laid beside you.
You moved closer to him, put your head on his chest, and rested your hands on his stomach. You could hear his heart beating faster and his body was stiff because of your movements. Joel took a deep breath and put his arms around you. He rubbed your back in circles.
“I’m sorry. I know I don’t deserve you. But can I get that chance for our relationship? Give me a chance to be better for you?” He rested his chin on your head.
“You should stop being insecure, Joel. You’re the best man I’ve ever met. All the guys who flirted with me.. They weren't like you. I know for a fact they only want to get in my pants. But you’re different. Am I right?” You caressed his chest.
“No. You’re wrong.” You were shocked by his joke and raised your head to face him.
“I’m joking. Relax.” He laughed.
“Don’t ever do that again.” You put your head back to his chest and hit his chest.
“Oh! You’re bleeding! We need to get your fist cleaned up!” You took his hands worriedly.
“Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ve been worse.” Joel chuckled and kissed your forehead.
“Okay, then.” You kissed his bleeding fist that saved you from Josh. 
The two of you spent the night cuddling, talking and getting to know each other. Joel told you about his past, Sarah, and Ellie as you drift into your sleep. 
To be continued...
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
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Tread Carefully ~ S.S.
Request: “Stiles x male reader, reader getting hurt trying to protect stiles from a werewolf” by anon
Word Count: 1400+
MASTERLIST
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Stiles had been harboring a crush on Lydia Martin for as long as he could remember. Even longer than Scott had known about it; and that was ages. So when he actually became friends with her, he'd thought he'd had a chance.
And then she'd dated Allison.
If he was honest, Stiles really hadn't ever considered that before. I mean yeah, he knew about queer people. But every time he brought it up, people had brushed it off and dismissed it. Stiles especially just wasn't - according to everyone. So he had never thought about it, until his old crush became one of his best friends and then she was taking about it all the time. Telling him about how happy she was, and when he asked, about how she'd realized she was into women. And suddenly he realized something he'd never considered before: he'd one hundred percent had a crush on Scott when they were kids. 
He didn't tell anyone for a long time. Well, anyone but Lydia. She was a fantastic confidante and an even better secret keeper. And she was good at keeping Stiles' sexuality a secret... until he developed a crush on her brother.
Y/n Martin was very different than his sister. They were a unit, they always had been, but where Lydia leaned into expectation to make herself popular and as perfect as possible, Y/n had leaned away from it. He didn't have a lot of friends, outside of the kids in the programming club, and some people he'd met over the internet. He was the type that knew high school was stupid, and thought that made him a little bit cooler than everyone else.
Stiles thought he was awesome. Y/n was putting as little effort into school as possible, focused less on college and more on learning to program and prepping himself to just do that forever. He was smart, which meant he knew that school didn't actually teach you anything you needed to know - as long as you knew what you were heading into. He often talked Lydia's ear off about how school was just preparing you to be part of the machine of society, and rolled his eyes when Lydia tried to get him into a "better outfit" or take him shopping.
But that was actually why Stiles liked him. They had math together, and Y/n made jokes under his breath and talked about how stupid it all was, and then leaned over and gave him pointers and help with the work in a way he could actually understand. He never ran out of patience and didn't find Stiles' burst of energy or hard time focusing or burn out annoying. He encouraged Stiles and hyped him up and when he did a good job and Y/n was leaning over his shoulder grinning at him, whispering compliments to him and joking about having to reward him one of these days, Stiles couldn't help but think that all he wanted in that moment was to kiss him.
Lydia picked up on it too fast. She was at first a little hesitant, making Stiles promise this wasn't about her, because her brother deserved better than being a replacement, but Stiles promised that wasn't it. And he proved it too, even if the pining looked the same. He talked to Y/n and became friends with him and fought against werewolves and other big-bads, and they bonded over being the only two just-humans on the team, but Stiles never reached out to him to tell him how he felt. Stiles didn't want anything from Y/n that he didn't want to offer; which was sweet except Lydia wanted to see her best friend and her brother happy.
So what was she to do except play match maker?
Her butting in was helping, too. Y/n was telling her all the time now about how he liked Stiles, how well they got along, all the stuff they were doing together. About his eyes and his smile and his laugh and how brave he was. About how they made so many plans together and learned to trust each other. About how nice his voice was, and how they studied together and often fell asleep late into the night and woke up next to each other.
And yet... it took Y/n almost dying for either of them to do anything about it.
It was a shit storm like all the others they had to live through. A battle, injuries all around, and Stiles and Y/n trying to find each other because this time they'd gotten separated. It was never good when those two got separated, they were both idiots.
Something that showed more than ever when Y/n rushed into the room, saw Stiles being cornered by a werewolf, and screamed at the top of his lungs. It was a faceless beast at this point, mind controlled by a spell that a witch had cast. She was making their lives hell, and this was only the most recent of poor bastards that had been mind controlled and sent their way. The only way to break the spell was to find the object that mattered to them most and destroy it. This worked because the witch had to cast the spell on such an object, and destroying it broke the spell. But she was aware of this, so she often sent her subjects after whoever found or had the object at the moment.
And right now, that person was Y/n.
So the werewolf turned, getting on all fours and shooting after the teenager, who's eyes went wide as he turned sharply and began barreling down the hallway as quickly as he could. It was a ploy to save Stiles' life, and it was a good one, but it couldn't last forever. The werewolf swiped at him, sending him flying one way and the thing he was carrying flying the other way. Derek arrived that moment, having been tied up before, and managed to fight the creature off while Stiles scrambled onto the scene and burned the object.
It was over.
But the damage had been done.
The pack brought them to Deaton, who immediately launched into stitching the poor boy up and lathering something on him to fight infection and help him heal faster. Then they were all left to simply wait and hope Y/n would wake up. He still had a heartbeat, but shock had hit his system and he still might not make it. A lot of blood lost, a really bad concussion...
Stiles of course never left Y/n's side. Y/n woke up to the boy asleep on his little make shift hospital bed, head on Y/n's leg, holding his hand. Y/n smiled, exhausted and sore and feeling like shit, but unable to deny that Stiles still looked adorable when he was asleep. Y/n ran his hand through Stiles' hair and the boy jolted up. "Oh." He blinked sleep out of his eyes, rubbing his face and shaking his head to clear it. "Hey."
Y/n laughed. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty," Y/n joked. His voice croaked from disuse and he flinched. "Jesus I sound like I died."
Stiles' smile withered. "You almost did."
There was silence at that. They couldn't meet each others' eyes, couldn't pass that stiffness and awkwardness. Neither of the boys were good with silence and always tried to scramble to crack jokes or entertain or cheer up, but Stiles' bluntness had shattered that. And it was kind of nice. Vulnerable.
"Stiles," Y/n began. "I... liked you." He sighed, shoulders dropping. "Like, really really like you. And I know it might ruin everything, and I don't want you to say you like me back because I almost died. I don't even need you to say anything right now, just, know I like you. And everyone knows you've always liked my sister but-"
At that, Stiles broke. He caught Y/n's face between his hand and pulled him into a kiss. They both sighed, smiling into it, and all the unspoken things seemed to be understood without any of the words needing to be said. They often communicated like this, with just an understanding, and no need for specifics or long rants. Leaning their foreheads together, Stiles still did say one thing. "I like you too." They both laughed, and all the tension melted away from both of them.
"Maybe next time you two need to talk about your feelings, one of you doesn't need to die for it?" Lydia sassed from the doorway. The boys parted, blushing, as she tackled her brother in a hug. But all of them laughed, and for now all of them were okay, and that... that could be enough. After all, they still had a witch to kill.
-
Male Readers: @ravenpuff-oli @sortzz @fadedver
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urfavlarry · 1 month
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Just saw that you take SBG requests! If possible could you do a Tyler oneshot where the reader starts out as Barron’s gf (it’s not going well bc he’s a jerk). Maybe Tyler helping her out of that relationship and just fluff of him being there for her. Bonus points if reader’s in the group!
Tyler Hernández x fem!reader
warnings: swearing, toxic relationship, manipulation
genre: angst(??) but mostly fluff
A/N: hope this doesn’t look rushed lmao I tried my best :,)
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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You’ve been dating Barron for a few months now, you wanted to give him a chance, thinking he would be different towards someone he actually loved, or so you thought he did. It started off as a normal relationship, he was sweet, took you out on dates, but now you realize that was just a trick so he could wrap you around his finger. You tried leaving several times, but you learned from your mistakes and didn’t think it was worth the bruises you would get. You. just had to pull through! Right?
You met Ashlyn and the other after you started dating Barron. They were really hesitant to let you in the group, thinking you were just trying to lure Logan into doing things for Barron like before, but they quickly relized you weren’t the type of person to do those types of things. You were complete opposites; he was manipulative, mean, and just a total jerk, while you were kind, truthful and calm unlike Barrons short temper. Everyone in the group was questioning how you even managed to be in a relatiomship with such an idiot but you brushed off the comments and told them he was different in private, which was a lie. Well if they asked this a few months back it wouldn’t have been a lie, but I guess people like Barron fairly change quickly. It was a few weeks after you started hanging out with the group that your situation with Barron worsened. To say that he was upset you were hanging out with the group that literally BEAT UP him and his little minions was an understatement. He would start beating you, yelling at you; “Oh so I’m not enough for you you fucking whore?” “You think you can just run off and think they will solve your problems for you?” But right after he would put up this kind facade, hugging you close, whispering sweet nothings into your ear and playing with your hair; “I’m sorry love, you know I get angry.. it’s just that..” Just endless excuses that you fell for, so you stayed.
The group quickly noticed your bruised figure; “Oh I’m fine, I was playing with my brother and fell!” or “I bumped into the side of a table this morning because I was in a hurry!” Everyone seemed to believe you except Tyler. He eyes you the whole lunch break, even during class. You glance at him every now and then and your mind starts to race; “What if he knows?” You think to yourself and look at Barron who like always wasn’t paying attention at all and would ask for you to do his work for him. You roll your eyes and decide this class doesn’t deserve your attention so you lay your head down on your desk and drift off.
The sound of the bells jolts you awake and you groan, gathering your stuff and go to leave the classroom. You feel a hand on your shoulder; “Leave me al—” “Come meet me after school, i’ll be waiting in front of the gates.” You hear from behind you and recognize the voice as Tylers. You nod and leave the class immediately, praying Barron didn’t see your little interaction.
The day went by dreadfully slow and you counted down the minutes when the last bell finally rang. The hallways were crowded with angsty teens and pick me whores who couldn’t wait to get drunk on a Friday night. You push your way through the mob of people and go to the gate where Tyler said he would be. You see Barron and his minions in the crowd of people and you sprint towards Tyler, grabbing him by the wrist and pull him towards the nearby coffee shop you had near your school. After you believe your put of sight you slow down, walking in silence. “Um, you can let go now?” Tyler says, pointing to his wrist. “Oh yeah, right.. sorry.” You look away, putting your hands in your hoodies pocket. Tyler raised a brow, it was mid May and it was getting hot out, every girl at school was either in tank tops, shorts, or dresses. He pushes the thoughts aside and opens the coffee shops door, letting you in first. You sit down in one of the more secluded spots in the shop and place your bag down.
“Soo.. whats up?” You ask, ordering a refreshing drink. Tyler just looks at you, eyes furrowed and arms crossed over his chest. “I know what you told us today was just a load of bull.” He says in a stern voice, having a “if you lie to me I’ll personally jump over this table and smack you” face.
“What do you mean? Are you implying anything?” You smile innocently, fiddling with your fingers under the table. He raised a brow, and hums; “Maybe I am.” He says and stays quiet after thar, staring you down, making you shift in your seat. You clear your throat and finish your drink, standing up; “Well if you don’t wanna discuss anything, i’ll be leaving—” You get cut off by getting tugged back by your wrist. You sigh and turn around, looking down at the ground not wanting to meet his harsh stare. He sighs and lifts your chin to look up at him, his gaze softening just a bit. “Wha—” He pulls you into a hug and you freeze, the new form of affection taking you by suprise. You hesitantly hug him back, feeling a bit awkward hugging him in a coffee shop but you pushed the thought away. He grabs your wrist and pulls you from the coffee shop; “I know that relationship between you and the hijo de puta isn’t healthy hermosa.” He says letting go of your wrist, looking away from you and kicking rocks he had in his way. You sigh, contemplating if you should say anything, the things that Barron had told you haunting you everywhere you went. “I don’t know what your talking about.” You say and Tyler rolls his eyes; “Yeah right, you got that bruised cheek and eye from chasing your cousins riiight yep that explains it!” He says sarcastically and crosses his arms over his chest; “Really Y/N let me or the others help you, we aren’t blind, the others just didn’t wanna be pushy and force you to say anthing.” He says as you both walk to the park, only a few minutes away from the coffee shop.
He sits you down on the bench and towers over you, glaring right at you. “Come on we just wanna help, well at least I do, come on cariño, let me help you.” He says and sits down next to you. You look at him in disbelief, maybe you could finally get out of Barrons torturous grasp? But what if he would keep bothering you? What if he hurts your friends? Your eyes water and you hug Tyler, sobbing into his shoulder; “I’m scared Ty, I really am.” You choke on your sobs, shaking uncontrollably while Tyler rubs your back soothingly. “Aw Y/N don’t cry hermosa.. it’ll be fine.. I promise.” He says, cupping your cheeks and wipes away your tears. You smile softly, finally calming down from your little nervous breakdown. “Thanks Ty..” He nods in acknowledgment and puts an arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer to him.
You rest your head on his shoulder and talk with him for what feels like hours, explaining your situation with Barron and how he has been treating you. Tyler listens, only commenting a few times since he didn’t wanna interrupt you and make you feel like he doesn’t care. Oh he did care, more than you could imagine. He’s been a bit overprotective of you since you joined the group, always protecting you from bullies you didn’t even know you had because Tyler always kept their mouths shut.
The next day you texted Barron to meet you at the school gate, which he did. “Hey babe whats up?” He smirks and wraps an arm around your shoulder. You give him a disgusted look and shake him off, stepping away and try to keep your distance from him. Tyler was watching the whole scene unfold, promising you that if things got out of hand that he would intervene. “Barron I think we should—” He cuts you off and glares at you; “Oh so that’s what this is about? We already talked about this you fucking bi—” While he was rambling, you didn’t even notice Tyler walking up to him and punching him right in the nose, an awful cracking sound being heard seconds later. “She said what she said estúpido, now leave her alone.” Tyler holds your hand in his, pulling you away from the now bleeding boy. Barron knew better then to mess with Tyler so he just cursed under his breath, leaving you alone. You walk into the boys bathroom that people rarely went to since people thought it was “haunted” and he grabs you by the shoulders looking at you with a worried expression.
“Y/N are you okay?” He asks, concern evident in his voice. You look up at him and pull him into a hug, having the biggest smile on your face. You mumble like a hundred thank you’s, and pull away from the hug. “Thank you so much Tyler, you don’t know how much you helped me.” You say and kiss his cheek. “I know this won’t make up for the problems I causes you but—” You get cut off by soft lips on yours, leaving you stunned. You close your eyes and kiss back, wrapping your arms around his neck while his arms travel down to your waist. Your lips move in sync, like you were just made for each other and pulled apart for breath. Tyler smiles down at you and kisses your forehead and smirks; “I’ll need a few more of these~” He leans down to kiss you again, a finger on his lips stopping him. “First of all, take me out on a date.” You smile innocently and head to your class, leaving Tyler to plan your date for the rest of the day.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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topguncortez · 2 months
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“i’m worried that if we go there, and things don't work out... things might never be the same.” with rooster! please and thank you! :)
prompts list:) thank you for the request!
All of Rooster’s life he was told that everyone gets one “great love” in their life. His mother’s great love was obviously his father and the one reason why she never remarried. Rooster could remember when he was about 13 or 14, asking his mother why she never remarried. It had been over 10 years since his father’s passing and Carole had never so much as looked at a male the way she did Goose.
“Because it wouldn’t be fair,” Carole told her son, a sad smile on her face, “It wouldn’t be fair to marry a man knowing I couldn’t love him the way I love your father. He was my great love… and I’ll never find another one like that.”
Bradley wondered if towards the end of her life, when she was alone in the house for those last couple of years when he was off at school, if maybe, just maybe she wished she had someone there. He asked her again, on one of the last good days she had, if she wished she had found someone to spend her life with.
Carole again, gave him a sad smile, “It wouldn’t be fair. There’s only one person I’ve been praying about seeing again.”
Bradley hadn’t realized it at the time, but the older he got, the more he envied what his parents had. “A Great Love” that was as if it came straight from a romance novel. “A Great Love” that held steady for years, despite his father being deceased for more than half of it. “A Great Love” that seemed to come so easy to them but for Bradley, was nearly impossible.
Except, it wasn’t impossible.
No, Bradley did have a “Great Love”, in the form of the neighbor girl who lived in the blue house next door. The girl who used to make mudpies with in the backyard. The girl who teased him relentlessly when he got braces only to end up with wires on her own teeth a couple of weeks later. The girl who is his best friend… and is currently crying on his couch over her now ex-boyfriend.
“A-And he was saying stuff and I-“ You sucked in a deep breath, trying to will the tears to stop falling down your cheeks.
"I'm sorry, Ducky," Rooster said, using the age-old nickname, even though he wasn't in the slightest sorry. Sure, he felt bad that you got your heartbroken, but he was celebrating the fact that Douchebag Dan was finally out of your life, "You deserve better."
"I thought he was the one!" You sobbed, "He had me sending him ring options!"
And suddenly Bradley hated Douchebag Dan even more than he did fifteen minutes ago when you showed up at his doorstep.
"Hey," Bradley said shifting closer to you, his thigh touching yours, "You know what this means though, right," You looked up at him with big sad eyes and the most adorable wobble of your bottom lip, "Your great love is still out there."
You rolled your eyes, "I'm starting to think that's a hock of shit," You flopped back on the couch defeated, "I've dated three guys in my lifetime all for over two years and none of them have put a ring on my finger," You held up your hand, wiggling your ring finger, "It's just not going to happen. I don't have a great love."
"Sure you do."
"Where!?" You looked over at Bradley, "Where is mine?"
"Maybe, you're looking too hard for it. Maybe they're closer than you think," Bradley simply shrugged, reaching for his beer bottle on the coffee table.
"Yeah?" You quipped, "What about you? Have you met your 'great love'."
Bradley sucked in a breath, knowing he couldn't lie to you about this or hell, about anything, "Yeah," He admitted, "But she doesn't feel the same."
You felt a pang in your heart, causing you to sit up, pulling your legs underneath you, "Does she know?"
Bradley shrugged, "I think so. I mean, I-I've known her forever."
"Oh," You were trying to rack your brain of the potential girls that Bradley had his heart set on, "Do I know her?"
"Mhm," Bradley pursed his lips, taking another sip of his beer for he stupidly gave himself and his stupid crush away. A stupid crush that could mean the end of the longest, greatest friendship he has ever had. You were the one thing from his childhood that had managed to stick around. You were there when his mother died, when his dreams of following his father's footsteps came crashing down, when he got his acceptance letter to UVA, when he graduated flight school and got his wings, when he graduated from TopGun.
All the major memories that Bradley had, you were always right there. He couldn't let a stupid crush end that. He couldn't let his heart and his feelings complicate things. He couldn't-
"It's Phoenix, isn't it?"
Bradley spat his beer out of his mouth, coating the coffee table in sticky alcohol. Your eyes widened as he coughed and wiped the beer from his lips.
"What?" He choked out.
"Your great love," You muttered, "Is it Phoenix?"
"Hell no," Bradley shook his head, "That-that's crazy."
"Not really, she's pretty and you're around her all the-"
"It's you," Bradley cut you off.
You felt your heart stop in your chest as you stared at your best friend, "W-What?"
He sighed, hanging his head in shame, "It's you, Y/N. It has always been you. You are my "great love"."
"Bradley, I-"
Bradley shook his head, "I didn't mean to do this. Not when you're upset over Douchebag Dan, but. . .fuck, I can't take it anymore," He stood up from his spot on the couch, beginning to pace, "Watching you go with guys who have no idea what it means for you to look at them like they hung the fucking stars. To have you love them and kiss them and be with them day after fucking day. I love you, Y/N. I have been in love with you."
Fresh tears were in your eyes as you looked at the man who is your best friend, "Why didn't you tell me?" Your voice was barely above a whisper.
"Because I’m worried that if we go there, and things don't work out... things might never be the same," Bradley's big brown eyes shone with unshed tears, "And you're all I have left. I can't lose you."
"You won't lose me," You stood up from your spot on the couch, walking over to him, "Cause I love you too," You grabbed his face in your hands and placed a kiss on his lips.
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dorapascalstyles · 5 months
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Summary: After a long day Mike finally comes home, where he can relax in his lover's arm's.
Warnings: None
Author's note: English is not my first language so sorry if i made mistakes in this but i hope y'all gonna like it🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 -D🍂
You were already dozing off on the couch when you heard the front door open, and you immediately know who came home. You sat up on the couch looking over at Mike. He looked exhausted like always, almost falling over from the tiredness.
-Hey.
You spoke first while he walked over to you.
-Hi.
He gave you a quick kiss on the mouth and sat down next to you.
-How was your day?
You ask him quitely not waiting for a long answer.
-Shitty.
You chuckled on his answer and wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him in a hug. You two stayed like this for a minute, just breathing each other in.
You tried to help around the house as much as you can, because you know how hard it is to him. Taking care of Abby and himself while working a shitty job that's not even paying enough is hard. You cook for them, and help Abby with school stuff, while Mike can't, and you totally fine with that. You love them and that's only what matters for you, but of course Mike still feels guilty that you need to do all those stuff for him. He thinks that you think he's using you and that you hate him. Of course that's not true but he has that anxiety.
-Abby?
-She's asleep.
You told him while running your fingers through his hair.
-Did she eat?
-A little, but i made her cookies and she ate them all up!
You giggle while looking up at him from his chest. You can see the playfullness in his eyes, and the relief that she ate something even if not a lot.
-Thank you.
He says with a sigh.
-For what?
-For taking care of her while i can't.
-You don't need to thank me that, you know how much i love her!
You look him in the eye while running your hands up and down on his arm.
-No of course i have to, you help me so much, i don't even know how to thank you.
-Hmm maybe you can thank me with a bath.
You say playfully while pulling him off of the couch.
-I'm serious.
-I am too, now come on!
You pull him in the bathroom, and start to fill the bathtub with warm water, while putting vanilla scented bath foam in it.
-It's going to feel so good i promise.
You go up to him and start to undress yourself while he was just looking at you. Finally you stepped in to the bathtub and sat in the water, that was the time when he got undressed too and sat behind you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and you leaned into his chest.
After 5 minutes of just being in the water, you sat up and turned around to face him.
-Let me wash your hair.
He just nodded, you reached for his shampoo and poured a little in your palm. You rubbed your hands together to make the shampoo fuzz up and started to massage his scalp. He immediately leaned into you and let out a groan.
-That feels so good!
You just smile at his reaction while doing different massage techniques that you saw on the TV, and when you finished, you moved him down a little so you can wash the shampoo out of his hair. The whole time he was looking at you, just admiring your face. How did he deserve you? he though to himself. Mike never, not even in his wildest dreams did think that he would know a person this loving, and caring like you. But he does and you love him, which is just more unbelievable for him. Abby adores you, and always talks about you when you're not around, and he's so happy about all of it. So nights like this really reminds him how lucky he is to have you.
-I love you.
He tells you while slightly touching the side of your face.
-I love you too.
You told him with a big smile, while leaning in to kiss him. The kiss is slow but it tells everything. How much he loves you, how thankful he is, the tiredness and happyness mixing together with proudness. You broke the kiss and told him to let's go to bed.
You two get out of the bathtub and he dries you, and then himself. You quickly get dressed while deciding to go and check on Abby, so you walk out of the bathroom and head to Abby's room. You peek in the room to find her peacefully sleeping in her bed. You hear footsteps from behind and an arm wrapped around your waist.
-She's good?
-She is. Sleeps like a bear.
You say while chuckling to yourself, you grab his hands and pull him in the bedroom, where you drop yourself on the bed from exhaustion and he's just giggling at you.
-Come on!
You put both of your arms up waiting for him to snuggle in them, and when he finally does you pull the blanket over the two of you.
-Sleep well, my love.
He tells you with a big smile while kissing your cheek.
-You too, love you.
You kiss his mouth.
-I love you.
He watches as you close your eyes and let out a sigh, representing how hard this day was.
He has hard days almost every day, but when he comes home to you he feels like a feather. With your loving heart you bring so much joy in his life, and he just loves every part of it.
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anonymous-dentist · 5 months
Text
Day Seven - Soulmates
-
Soulmates, as everyone knows, share each other's pain. Bruises, scrapes, broken bones. Fevers, infections. Anything, everything. Nothing physical is left behind, just. Pain.
Roier kinda thinks it's all bullshit. There's all sorts of philosophy attached to it, like the idea that sharing pain is supposed to bring you and your soulmate together, but that idea doesn't really matter when you don't even know who your soulmate is. It's just pain for the sake of pain, and it's absolutely ridiculous, and he kinda hates it.
...But maybe Roier is biased, just a little. His soulmate, whoever they are, is either the most accident-prone person on the planet, or they've been a soldier since Roier was still in middle school. After years and years of constant aches and pains and bruises and fucking stab wounds right through the stomach and gunshots fired through the shoulder and the throat, Roier's tired.
Roier doesn't hate his soulmate. He probably loves them, actually; he started working out in middle school just so he could grow up into a strong enough man to be able to protect his soulmate the way they deserved. He just also thinks it's kind of bullshit that he and his soulmate have to share this much without not knowing who each other is.
"It's just kind of ridiculous, you know?" he asks.
"I guess," Cellbit hesitantly agrees.
Cellbit, unlike Roier, seems pretty into the whole soulmate thing. He doesn't think he has one, but he likes the idea of people being able to find someone special just for them that they can love and who will love them back. Sharing pain, to Cellbit, is the same as sharing a warm cup of coffee on a cold winter's morning: it's just something that people who love each other do.
Roier sighs, but he doesn't say anything else, mostly because he's decided he kinda likes Cellbit and he doesn't want to lose him before he can work up the nerve to ask him over for, like. Dinner. Or sex.
Tonight, they're side-by-side in sleeping bags on the deck of their newly-claimed Base Guapita. The kids are asleep inside, and Cellbit's hands are rough and red from an afternoon spent putting up the communications tower. He's half asleep, but Roier is wide awake and staring at the stars and trying to connect them into something meaningful.
Cellbit is... nice. He's nice. Him and Roier got off on the wrong foot, and he kinda super needs to shower more often, but he's sweet, and he has a cute smile when he deigns to show it. His eyes are breathtaking. His hands are big. His arms are covered in too many scars to count, and so is what little of his chest and neck he shows beneath his button-up and vest.
(Roier remembers waking up screaming a week or so ago and immediately checking his arms to make sure he wasn't the one getting fucking shredded with- with something. Bobby ran downstairs to check on him, and he got to the bottom floor just in time to watch Roier pass out as his soulmate died and had to respawn.
The day after that, Roier idly watched as Cellbit and Felps argued in the corner of his garden. He couldn't catch much of what they were saying, but the scars on Cellbit's arms were new, maybe.
Maybe...)
In the end, it's Cellbit who continues the conversation:
"If I do have a soulmate," he murmurs, voice slurred from exhaustion and muffled slightly by his pillow, "I kind of feel bad for them."
"Mm?"
Absently, Cellbit rolls onto his back, his arms falling on top of the sleeping bag's outer layer. One hand brushes along the largest of the opposite arm's scars.
Ah.
"Nah, it's probably fine," Roier says. He adjusts himself so that he's laying on his side facing Cellbit with his hand propping his head up. "Aren't you the guy who thinks sharing pain is romantic and stuff?"
"It isn't romantic," Cellbit scoffs. "It's pain. Nobody should have to go through it."
"Or maybe nobody should have to go through it alone. Isn't that what all this soulmate shit is about?"
Cellbit glances at him out of the corner of his eye. "I thought you didn't believe in soulmates."
"What?" Roier gasps, dramatically offended. "No! Of course I do! I just don't get all that philosophical stuff. Like, what's the point of sharing pain if you don't know who you're sharing with, you know?"
"Because it's what people who love each other do."
Roier snaps with a grin. "There you go! You and your soulmate love each other, so you want to share each other's pain. Right?"
Cellbit hums, "Or maybe he just wants to stop it."
Oh. "'He'? Do you-"
Cellbit cuts him off with a shake of the head: "No, I don't. I just know he would be a he. I'm not, ah..."
Oh, shit.
Roier knows Cellbit well enough by now to know when he doesn't want to elaborate on something, so he offers a cheerful, "Cool!", before going quiet again.
Then:
"I hope you find him, man," Roier says. He sits up and pats Cellbit on the shoulder with a smaller, more genuine smile. "I know he's out there."
Cellbit watches him warily. "I'm not even sure if he exists."
"Nah, he does. And I'd better get to be your best man, okay? If not, I'm stealing your husband."
Cellbit snorts quietly, lips quirking up into a half-smile. "Of course, guapito."
"Good." Roier nods, and he settles back into his sleeping bag. His bones, as usual, are aching. His hands burn, and he doesn't know what the hell his soulmate has been up to today, but he's going to make them start wearing gloves when he finds them.
He flops onto his opposite side, and then he screeches as his arm impales itself on the pointy end of an exposed screw.
"Chinga su madre-" he swears, scrambling out of his sleeping bag to dig up the hammer he and Cellbit were using earlier when they were renovating the airship.
Cellbit sits up, eyes wide. "Guapito? What happened?"
Roier slams his hammer into the screw in response with an irritated, pained, "Fucking nail got me in the arm, what the fuck?"
He turns his attention back to the floorboards, turning his sleeping bag over to inspect the rest of the floor for any loose nails.
(He does not notice Cellbit's face pale as he raises a shaky hand to his own arm, right where the screw had hit Roier. He looks from Roier's bleeding arm to his own, and a faint, excited, surprised, terrified smile crosses his face, and a blush paints itself across his nose and cheeks, and he has to cover his mouth to keep himself from letting out the happiest little squeal possible.)
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cntloup · 3 months
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Fem!Reader fluffy fluff, a lil suggestive at the end
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Mornings for the Riley family are chaos... but organized chaos. At 0500, your husband gently pats your back and whispers in your ear “Wake up, lovie!” as you’re sprawled out on the white sheets posing as a starfish. You groan in displeasure and turn on your back with a quiet “hi”, voice hoarse from sleep. “Good mornin’, dove. Breakfast's ready. I'm gonna wake the kids up.” ‘Fuck! How does he do this every single day?’ you think as you set your feet on the floor, slightly shivering from the cold tiles. You finally get off the bed, letting out a loud yawn and go into the bathroom to start your morning routine. As you’re getting on with your “me time”, you hear the kids kick up a fuss, not wanting to get up and not liking mornings one bit. You smile to yourself since you don’t have to deal with that today. Yes, they’re your children and you love them dearly, but you deserve to have some time to yourself and leave the tough part of the morning to the lieutenant. You finish your business in the bathroom, finally shaken the sleep away and make your way to the kitchen to see the kids around the table and your husband by the oven, filling everyone’s plate. “Good morning, guys!” you say with a smile. “Good mornin’, mommy.” they mumble unenthusiastically with sleepy voices. You let out a chuckle since you know Simon had to drag them out of their beds by the annoyed looks on their faces. “Lookin’ good, LT!” you murmur as you slap his ass lightly and he turns around with a smirk and pulls you in for a quick kiss. You take a sit at the table “You didn’t have to wait for me.” “ ‘course we did. We always wait for mommy, right?” he asks the kids, awaiting an answer “Yeeess.” they drag out the word irritated. He chuckles as he shakes his head. He puts your plates in front of you and takes his sit beside you. You eat your breakfast with little to no words. You finish it quickly and get to work; check everyone’s bags for the right books and stuff as the sleepy heads tend to forget and make mistakes sometimes, make every one’s lunch except Simon because you two go to the usual cafe you go every day on your lunch breaks. Get the kids dressed and send them away when the school bus arrives, “Be careful and behave, guys. I love you.” you call out as you stand on the porch waving them goodbye and they turn around and blow kisses with their hands making you smile with contentment. You close the door and go into the bedroom to get ready for work, seeing your husband already dressed in his uniform. “Hey.” you mutter as you pull him in for kiss, this time longer, not wanting to let go. You finally pull away “Fuck! Go before I rip that uniform off you.” “Yes, ma’am.” he replies as he pats your ass and winks “See you at lunch, lovie.” “See you too, Si. Bye.” you wave at him as he leaves. ‘FUCK!! Maybe in the cafe bathroom?’ you think to yourself ‘Nah, that’s nasty... or is it?’ ‘Yea but who cares?’ you finish your thoughts hoping he would agree to take you in the cafe bathroom since you might (definitely) not be able to get him out of your head after seeing him in full gear. Although, he’s always on your mind at every moment of the day. He's the love of your life after all. 
comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥ 
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ddejavvu · 10 months
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MEIII!!!! Hope you had a good day!!!!
I was thinking 🤔🤔🤔 an ex gf of Hotch comes to work w the BAU & they hadn’t told anyone abt it but the Bau girls help R unpack find photo albums old pictures of her and their boss (hot)
You had intended to be more careful when letting your new teammates dig through boxes in your apartment, but they had each brought over bottles of wine as housewarming gifts, and the first thing you'd come across were your glasses. So now that there's a healthy buzz over your brain, making it just a little bit hard to focus, you don't notice Penelope reaching into the box that says memories.
She squeals at a baby picture of you, an album full of your childhood memories in her hands. You think nothing of it, still slightly intoxicated to where you don't forsee the next album she'll pick up. Emily and JJ flock to her side, crooning and cooing over your past self, but when they shut the album and reach for the next, and your brain finally switches on, you're not fast enough to stop them.
"Woah, that guy- holy shit," Emily laughs, her own mind clouded as she points sloppily at the man kissing your cheek in the first photo, "That guy looks like Hotch."
JJ snorts, but Penelope falls silent.
Of course, you think, of course she's seen pictures of when he was younger. You'd expect nothing less from the BAU's resident snoop.
"That is Hotch," She breathes, alcohol be damned as she puts the puzzle pieces together, "Oh my god, you dated Hotch!"
"Oh," Emily laughs, eyes wide and giddy and dazed, "You dated Hotch!"
"I- I didn't date Hotch," You huff exasperatedly, wine forgotten on the counter, "I dated a man from law school. He was not the same person."
"You mean this was before someone shoved a stick up his ass?" JJ eyes you incredulously, "I thought it was placed there at birth."
"He doesn't have a stick up his ass!" You feel the inexplicable urge to defend your boss, despite him having left you reeling in college, "He's- he's got issues. Stuff you don't even know about. Everyone does, we've all- we've all got issues."
"What happened?" Penelope asks, her voice soft and worried, "He didn't cheat on you, did he?"
"No!" You let out a huffy laugh, "No, he didn't cheat on me. We just parted ways because- well, our schedules were tight. We never saw each other, when I had a day off he was working, and vice versa. He wanted someone with a more adjustable schedule."
"That's not fair," Penelope's eyes glaze over with tears, that you're sure are only partially from the wine she's consumed, "That's not fair, to stop loving someone because they're busy. He was busy too, what- why were you the problem?"
"It wasn't like that," You gush, but it was entirely like that, "Listen, we were both stressed all the time. I don't know if you've ever tried to be lawyers, but it sucks. And- and we never saw each other, and we were young, and stupid, and we hated our jobs but we couldn't quit, and- and it was a mess! And I'm glad," You peter off your emotional speech with a soft whimper, "I'm glad he found someone who had the time to love him. Because both of us deserved that, just-" You sniffle, your eyes stinging with tears, "Only one of us got it."
"Oh, honey," JJ laments, reaching for you with both hands now that her wine glass is set aside. You dodge her hands, though, excusing yourself with a shitty excuse and a hurried walk to the bathroom.
There's no tissues. Of course there's no tissues, you haven't had a moment to live in this apartment since you'd set foot in it. Work was always getting in the way, like it had for your entire life.
You're not angry at Aaron for leaving you. You weren't a good fit for each other, not with your careers taking off as they were. In all honesty, you might have broken up with him yourself if it had gone on any longer. But you're jealous in a way, that he found someone who had the time for him while you didn't. And that's not his fault, you shouldn't be resentful that he found love just because you didn't. Your feelings for him comes from loneliness, not anger. But they read the same, and you're sure your new teammates think you're silently raging at your new unit chief.
After a quick wash of your face in the sink and a makeshift toilet paper tissue, you step back out into the living room, three pairs of eyes trained immediately on you.
"I appreciate that you're taking my side here," You hum, a knot in your throat the size of a fist, "But it's a closed matter. We haven't spoken in years, and I feel like we still haven't. He's different now, he's not the man I dated, and I would like it if you would be able to forget that this happened."
Emily is the first to speak up, "Okay. Okay, honey, we understand. But- but please don't ignore your feelings if they're starting to resurface. At the very least, you deserve closure."
"And hey," JJ smiles, trying to look eager but looking mostly sad, "If you wanna give things another shot, he's single and you work with him. At least all the time you spend working now is with him, too."
"Yeah," You let out a light chuckle, still bogged down by the ghost of the tears you'd wiped away in the bathroom. Penelope can't take it anymore, and rushes in for a squeeze.
"Oh, sweetheart," She gushes, "It'll work out! I bet you're gonna have this crazy-sweet second chance romance kind of thing, and we'll all be at your wedding!"
"Slow down," You laugh, thankful that you have her shoulder to snuggle into, "We haven't even acknowledged that we used to date yet. Let's wait until the proposal to start talking about the wedding."
A good-natured laugh is shared throughout your small apartment, and the photo album is set back in its box for safekeeping. They give you the courtesy of unpacking it yourself, just in case any stray memories come to haunt you. You're grateful for it, and it's easy to slip back into your wine-fueled giggle fest while working on your bookshelf instead.
--
Mere miles away, Aaron is sitting on the floor of his bedroom. There's a photo album in his lap, one half of a pair, the other half of which he hopes isn't in a landfill somewhere. His eyes are trained on a photo you'd taken on winter break from your sophomore year of school, skis strapped to your feet and poles in your hands as Aaron hugged you from behind. You'd done the Titanic pose on the side of the ski hill, your arms outstretched and Aaron's face twisted over your shoulder to gaze endearingly at you. It's a blurry photo, because your friends had taken it from the bottom of the slope, but the memories of it are crisp in his head.
He hears the patter of little feet down the hallway, and doesn't have the energy to close the book before Jack sees it.
"Daddy?" His son's little voice asks, "Who's that?"
"Do you recognize," He hums, flipping to a clearer picture of the two of you, and pointing to himself, "Him?"
Jack's face scrunches, nose wrinkled and eyes squinted, "Is that you, daddy?"
"It is me," Aaron chuckles, "I looked younger, huh?"
"Yeah," Jack nods emphatically, poking at his dad's cheeks, 'Now you have wrinkles."
Aaron scoffs, "Thanks, bud. What'cha need?"
"I'm just bored," Jack huffs, looking back at the picture displayed in the book, "That's not Mommy. Why are you kissing her?"
"I met her before I met your mommy," Aaron hums, ghosting his pointer finger over the page, "But we broke up. Then your mommy and I got married."
"Why did you break up?" Jack cocks his head to the side, "You didn't love her as much as Mommy?"
"I loved her," Aaron muses, "But we both had really busy jobs. And we never saw each other, so it made us sad. So we broke up so that we wouldn't be so sad anymore."
"Oh." Jack frowns, "Okay. I'm sorry you were sad."
"It's okay, buddy," Aaron slings an arm around Jack's side, kissing his chubby cheek, "I'm not sad anymore. Well- sort of. Do you know why I'm looking at these pictures?"
Jack shakes his head, "Mm-mm. Why?"
"She joined my team," Aaron informs his son, watching the gears in his brain turn. "So I'm a little bit sad now, because seeing her makes me remember how sad I was when we broke up."
"But," Jack drags out the vowel, "If she's on your team now, then you see her all the time! And you were sad because you didn't get to see her, but now you can be happy again!"
"That's- uh, kind of." Aaron shuts the book, turning to face Jack fully, "I think I might be a little bit sad forever about us breaking up."
"Forever," Jack frowns, relying heavily on the fact that he's been told he'll never be sad forever, "Why?"
"Because we can't fix it." Aaron sighs, "We can't go back in time and stay together."
"But you can date her now," Jack prods, and wow, Aaron needs to give him more credit, "Why do you have to be sad forever?"
"You'd be okay with me dating someone else?" Aaron asks carefully, "Someone who isn't your Mommy?"
"It it makes you happy again," Jack nods, "I don't want you to be sad forever, Daddy."
Aaron's struck with tears that he tries to tamp down. His nose runs, and he sniffles shakily, "Thank you, bud. You're sweet, you know that?"
"Mm-hm," Jack nods, "Penny tells me."
"Yes she does," Aaron laughs, a watery sound as he pulls Jack in for a hug, "Every time she makes you cookies, she tells you you're sweeter. You should know by now."
"So," Jack gets right to the point, "Are you gonna date her again, Daddy?"
"I don't know," Aaron hums, "Maybe. I have to ask her, first. And I don't think I should ask her right away."
"You should share your lunch with her," Jack instructs, "I gave Ellie one of my oreos at lunch, and now she's my girlfriend."
Aaron's brows raise, "Wow. Do you like having a girlfriend?"
"Yeah." Jack nods simply, "She's nice to me. We take turns pushing each other on the swings."
"Well, maybe we'll both have girlfriends soon," Aaron grins at his son, "Do you think we should go out on a double date? Like, we both take our girlfriends out to eat together?"
"Yeah!" Jack shouts, enthused by the idea, "We should go to get ice cream, though. Ellie really likes chocolate."
"Okay," Aaron chuckles, letting Jack wander off to pick through his toy box, renewed hope in his chest at the thought of sitting side-by-side with you in an ice cream parlor, "Sounds like a plan, bud!"
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shokopan · 1 year
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WE DON’T NEED THINGS LIKE MEMORIES  .  MIYA ATSUMU
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PAIRING: atsumu x gn!reader
GENRE: fluff/comfort and the tiniest bit of angst if you really squint
WORD COUNT: 0.7k
CONTENT WARNINGS: cursing
AYA’S NOTES: i was sifting through my old folder of haikyuu fics i wrote last yr && remembered how much i loved this fic when i found it :DDD
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“what’s wrong with saying that i'd date you if we'd met in high school?” you inquire, clutching your legs tight to your chest as you rock towards atsumu slightly, deliberately falling into your boyfriend's chest as he swiftly snakes an arm around your waist to steady you.
“nothing babe, i swear,” he instantly replies, untangling your fingers from each other to replace one with his free hand, “you just didn’t know me then! i wasn’t too great of a guy in high school if i’m being honest. you probably would've ended up crushing on samu or aran kun, maybe even kita san. he's always been pretty good looking and had tons of girls admiring him,”
“and remember when we first met in uni?” atsumu continues, eyes lowering down when he senses a newfound warmth as you envelop both of your hands around his.
“when i told you off for picking a fight with sakusa san?” you answer, recalling the boiling outrage you felt towards him years prior, "and proceeded to call you an irritating prick?"
“and i fell madly in love with you? yup,” atsumu grins cheekily before faltering by the slightest, "i was basically like that in high school, but way worse,”
“i mean i’m not as bad now, i hope. but yeah babe, i don’t think you’d date me if you knew how i acted then,” atsumu shrugs with , “and i wouldn’t blame you, y'know? dating an asshole sounds rough,”
“tell me about it, i’m dating one myself,” you giggle, bumping your shoulder with his as atsumu sulks, “kidding kidding! but what changed? you’re so sweet to me now tsumu, i can’t imagine you being any bit worse than that day we met,”
“fallin’ in love with you, that’s what changed me,” atsumu responds earnestly, shifting around and wriggling his hands from yours to cups the softness of your cheeks.
“tsumu! don’t say stuff like that if you don’t-“ you protest, moving your face down to bury it in atsumu’s large palms in embarrassment.
“i’m serious! honest!” atsumu protests, sliding his palms down to your jawline and lifting your face to level with his eyes, “you make me a better man babe, my parents, and even samu have said that. but you make me always want to be better because you deserve the best and i love you,”
warmth creeps up your cheeks as a faint soreness materializes, bringing attention to just how wide you’re grinning now, “i love you too tsumu,”
“you better love me! this conversation is making me fucking sad, thinking about how shitty i was. i better draft some emails or something to my old coaches and team for being such a pain to deal with,” atsumu chuckles, brushing the locks away from your face as he admires you for a brief moment, in awe of just how perfect you are when smiling.
“you’re absolutely perfect now,” you beam, taking your turn to cocoon your hands around atsumu’s jawline, “so so perfect,”
“damn right i am,” atsumu puffs his chest out, his signature childish yet endearing pride returning. his cheeks are dusted rose, the corners of his eyes crinkling happily, “i’m working hard babe, gonna be the absolute best boyfriend for you to make up for shitty high school tsumu,”
“good to know,” you giggle, “but you’re already the best boyfriend tsumu, it doesn’t matter how you were in high school. you’ve grown and matured since then, and there’s no need to make up for the past. it’s like your old school's motto, right? we don’t need things like memories. we don’t need to dwell on the people we were in the past. i love you now, and isn’t that what matters?”
“you’re too good to me babe,” atsumu groans playfully, hugging your waist as he buries his face into your shoulder with mild chagrin, taking in your sincerity as his blush grows fiercer by the moment, “i love you so much,”
“i love you too tsum,” a soft smile replaces the cheesy grin as you dip your head down the place butterfly kisses on the exposed part of atsumu’s jaw, “and i’m glad we met. really glad,”
you feel atsumu smile into your shoulder as he lifts his head up, a dorky grin plastered on his face as he kisses you, pulling away momentarily after as he whispers, “me too, i’m grateful we met that day,”
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pinkmirth · 1 year
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What do you think Reiner and his s/o would argue about in a relationship? I can't imagine it would last long
BACK TALK, reiner braun !
SYNOPSIS — just a fluffy lil drabble about reiner wanting to take care of you. he doesn’t want to argue, but you’re just so stubborn…
CONTAINS — 1k words of . . . fluff, fem!reader (black coded), “girly-girl” reader, reiner feeds you, lowercase intended, just sappy stuff with this caring gentleman <3 (kinda sorta self indulgent!)
this is a tough one, nonnie…. only because maturity is reiner’s best attribute! picking a problem with you is the last thing this man wants to do, and he’s very slow to anger. you’re right about any disputes not lasting long! even if he tried, reiner can’t stay mad at you.
the most that could happen between you and him are petty squabbles about preferences, something dumb like waffles over pancakes! the pair of you ultimately laugh it off and end up cuddling once all is said and done. It’s hard to envision a topic that could stir such a reaction from him to the point where he’s arguing with you. i think the only thing that would get him going back and forth in an “argument” is if he’s worried about you, but you decide to be stubborn with him.
for instance, you’re tired and have been studying all day, and he just wants you to allow yourself to relax. but! you’re persistent on finishing up your assignments. he’d probably grow upset and insist that you deserve a break . . . (veryyy self indulgent ‘cause i’ve been studying for a gajillion tests lately!)
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dull thuds of reiner’s heavy footsteps upon carpet announce his entrance into your room. he strolls around your cozy little home-desk, the one he helped you build a couple months back when the school semester first began. it’s adorned in sanrio stickers galore and polaroid pictures of you and him, nostalgic square photos secured with baby-pink thumbtacks. reiner circles you with a brooding silence, flitting his eyes from the slideshow on your laptop screen to your scribbled notes. you feel him linger behind your chair, but opt on saying nothing.
“baby, c’mon…” reiner calls out, his tone borderline pleading, “you’ve been here for hours.” from behind your seat, he inches in until he’s close enough to rest his weighty hands on your stiffened shoulders. reiner’s warm palms rub along the junction of your neck. it’s helping— he can see it in the way your body slackens in your swivel chair.
“i gotta prep for tomorrow’s test,” his touch brings you to release a lax hum, but you don’t allow yourself to dwell on it for long. the fleeting moment of bliss he provides ends too soon, as you smooth out your oversized baby-pink tee-shirt and begin to refocus on your work.
“have you eaten?” he asks. the shake of your head brings about his frown. you could surely get your work done without depriving yourself of basic needs… all he wants is for you to be well taken care of. “no, not yet.” you spare him a glance before looking back over your laptop.
reiner’s hand shoots out, grabbing your chair and turning you halfway-round to face him. the closeness of his face to yours makes it seem like the perfect opportunity to press your lips to his and linger there for a while. instead, you remain still, choosing a safer route by stealing glances of his handsome attributes. your eyes run across his prominent collarbone peeking through his low-neck sweatshirt, the slight clench of his firm jaw, most especially the raw concern swimming in his honey-golden eyes. “why not?” reiner questions, with his brows drawn tight in worry. you whirl back around, for the sake of your own resolve.
“because i’m studying, reiner.”
“no, you’re cramming.” he corrects. reiner can read you like a damn storybook; it’s almost as though he knows you more than his very own self. “at least i’m drinking water,” you raise a bottle from your desk for emphasis. water sloshes in the cylindrical confines as you set it back down, “happy?”
reiner rolls his tongue and prods at his inner cheek. he decides to pay no mind to your little attitude. “water’s fine, but you need food.”
“a meal would be too heavy for me... i’d probably end up falling asleep.” you haphazardly shoo his suggestion, scribbling bullet points onto your notebook.
“so a snack would be better, then? your favorite fruit is in the fridge downstairs.” reiner turns on his heel, intent on coming back with a bowl of nicely-cut strawberries and mangoes. you reach out, clasping onto him forearm before he zips out of your room and descends the flight of stairs. “it’s okay, reiner.” you assure. the ends of your manicured nails ghost his wrist.
“is it really? ‘cause it’s hard to believe that you don’t want me to get anything at all.” he quirks up a thin brow as he says it. reiner knows just how much you need his support— you’re simply choosing to act like you don’t.
“i’ll get somethin’ to eat later, i promise.” with the twirl of your ballpoint-pen, you’re back to writing. this is his third time checking up on you, and you give him the same answer with every visit. all this stubbornness has gone on long enough.
“you may be busy, but you’re also tired.” he's quick to snatch the pen from your hands, right in the middle of you scrawling a sentence onto lined paper. “hey! reiner, give it—”
“nuh-uh. stop bein’ difficult about it.” he plants a large hand onto the back of your macbook and shuts it closed. you do an over-exaggerated huff, make a pout, throw in a bratty eye roll— he doesn’t care for it. what you need is to allow him take care of you. he can’t let his darling work herself to death, now can he? not in a literal sense, but he wouldn’t forgive himself for allowing this to continue.
“i’ll be right back, okay? and for the love of god, don’t open that goddamn laptop.” he makes his leave. you hear the faint hum of a microwave. it doesn’t take long for him to return, with a steaming plate of food in hand. reiner takes joy in replacing that stupid notebook of yours with the reheated dinner that he cooked up for you over an hour ago.
he pulls up a seat, scoots in close, and brings a hot forkful up to your mouth. “don’t argue. just eat, baby.”
this sly man knows that it’s your favorite food. you have no energy left to brush him off. finally, you give in. with a soft ‘ah’, you allow reiner to feed you. there’s a satisfied gleam in his eye as he stuffs your mouth with bite after bite.
“it’s good?” he softly asks. you cover your mouth while chewing, giving him a sheepish nod. “mm-hm.”
“you feel better, don’t you?” reiner nudges your shoulder with his broader one. you don’t try to fight the smile overtaking your lips. “i do…” you relent, looping your arms around his neck. he firmly hugs you in one arm, and uses his unoccupied hand to hold onto the ceramic plate. over half of the food’s gone.
he hears your quiet, sincere ‘thank you’ murmured into his chest, feels your frame relax against his. “good.” reiner sighs into your hair. he wants you to put yourself first, every single time. “that’s good.”
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helios-writings · 5 months
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There are some days when Shanks feels bad about not being able to give you the life he thinks you deserve. Days where you and he barely see each other because the pair of you are working overtime. Days where the two of you sit at the table, stressed about what bills you can cover and what you’ll have to live without.
Others days, he knows, are better. Curled up in each others arms on your days off, the smell of breakfast cooking even though its two in the afternoon. Still, he’d always dreamed about giving you a life of luxury, about spoiling you and making sure you didn’t have to work another shitty job if you didn’t want to. He’s not quite there yet, but he hopes one day he will be.
The two of you are walking hand in hand through the richer shopping district, windowshopping in all the pricier stores that give him hives just thinking about stopping in, but he loves the way you smile as you envision how you would decorate the foyer of your fictional mansion with a giant gold and crystal chandelier.
He laughs, not at you, but at the absurdity of it. “What would we need with something like that, huh?”
You shrug. “Sometimes things are just nice to have.”
He’d buy you a million of those ugly things if it meant making you happy.
Instead, Shanks points to something else. “And where would you put this?”
“Our living room, right next to the giant comfy couch, so I can admire it while I sit next to you.”
The two of you carry on like this, until you find a cozy old antique shop buried inbetween two high end boutiques.
“Lets go in here.” He tells you, stopping you with a gentle tug on your hand.
“Antiques? I didn’t know you liked old stuff like that.”
“I had a crush on our high school math teacher, didn’t I?”
You roll your eyes. “And yet, you’re here with me.”
He elbows you playfully in the side. “Well, she couldn’t compare to you.”
You just laugh and head inside the store.
The inside smells like dust and the culmination of other peoples belongings, but he’s drawn to the jewelry shelf towards the entrance, whilst you wander off by yourself down one of the countless aisles. The shelf holds many pieces of jewelry, but what catches his eye is a pair of wedding rings, obviously on the older side, but the feeling hits him so fast, it feels like his heart has fallen to his feet.
Shanks had never thought about proposing to you. Not in a “terrified of marriage” way, but to him you already were. But, standing in that store, the need had never been more apparent, and the rings were within his budget. It felt like a sign from on high, even if you were the one who believed in signs like that.
You both left the store half an hour later, his wallet a bit lighter, but pocket heavier.
You make dinner that night, something simple, but delicious and Shanks, never one to second guess himself, jumps right in.
“I want to marry you.”
Your eyes widen as you nearly spit out your drink. “Wh-“
He pulls the rings out and continues. “I know you didn’t dream about living in a one bedroom apartment with shitty heating and cooling, and that you deserve better than I can give you, but I promise you that you’ll have it one day. Whatever you want, a big house, dogs or cats, a huge ugly gold and crystal chandelier in the foyer. I want to give that all to you.”
You take his hand in yours. “Shanks, baby, we may not live the life you think we deserve, but I live the life I want with you every day. I don’t care about any of that stuff, not really. So what if our heating breaks in the middle of winter? So what if I can’t have a big yard or house? I’d rather have you.”
He feels his eyes get a little misty and he turns away. “I’m not the one who’s supposed to be crying here.”
You roll your eyes and slip one of the rings on. “I’ll marry you.”
He kisses you deep, a grin on his face that won’t go away no matter how hard he tries.
The wedding takes place in a court house, costing no more than 120 dollars and the two of you wearing the nicest clothes you can afford, but its perfect and neither of you would dream of anything else, not when you have each other. This is the life you deserve, and he can give it to you after all.
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yourheart-inmyhands · 6 months
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heyyy it’s me again😓
i love ur writing sorryy😭 whenever it’s more convenient for you tho could i ask for yan zhongli (im obsessed with that man omfg), ayato and pantalone (again im obsessed w him sorry🥀) with a darling who is like, super high-maintenance? for an example they need to have their hair and nails done or they REFUSE(including them) to go near anyone because they think they don’t look good enough
stay safe, take breaks and make sure u are healthy above everything tho!!💗
-🐚
so i've never been into any of the hair and nails stuff (got my nails done professionally once in middle school, got sick of em after a week and ripped em all off) so i don't know how correct the lingo is, i kinda just went based off what i know from my sister, so i hope you enjoy :D
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Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including a small bit of delusional behavior, a small bit of obsessive behaviors, no specific pronouns used for the reader but a lot of mentions of reader having their hair/nails/lashes being done, and the rest is just sorta soft. Please read at your own risk!
Yandere!Zhongli, if you think this man has the mora to pay for anything you’re funny. There is an upside to this though, while he can’t pay to have you get your nails and hair done, or your lashes or for whatever else you wanna get, he can learn to do it for you. Hair and lashes take him a while as they can be more finicky but nails he picks up instantly. Not only is it cheaper but you can describe to him exactly what you want and he’ll be able to do it because he understands you and knows what you mean when you describe things. Plus you don’t have to worry about looking good when you get them done, you can just hang around in your pajamas until everything is finished.
Zhongli listened as you described the design you wanted on your nails, sorting through the assortment of polishes he had collected over his time with you. He’d do anything to please you, and while he couldn’t pay for the things you loved, he could certainly learn to do it for you. He understood wanting to maintain a certain image to the public but he’ll always insist that you look your best when you’re just you. When your hair hasn’t been done in a while, no fake lashes, and when your nails are just painted, no extra things on it. He doesn’t mind appearances, finding that he’s lived too long to base his relationship off something as simple as that, but he does appreciate both sides of you. While he’ll gladly chat about things while he does your nails or gossip while he does your hair, he’ll occasionally remind you that regardless of how you look, he’s always going to love you.
Yandere!Ayato is on top of it, like he schedules and pays for everything. He hires only the best and has them come to you, so that you can get the proper treatment you deserve in the comfort of the Kamisato Estate. You have personal stylists who do your nails, your hair, lashes, wardrobe updates, anything you want and they can do it. They also have some of the hottest gossip about the happenings in Inazuma, giving a proper salon treatment everytime they’re around.
You weren’t sure how Ayato made time to always schedule your appointments and such, keeping more on top of them than you did some days, but you weren’t about to complain about it. Your nail tech and hair stylist were amazing at their jobs, catering to your every whim and doing a phenomenal job at that, like they were born for this kind of work. The stories they brought with them were always just as great, the latest happenings around the city and the nation as a whole, who was doing what now and such on and so forth. Ayato would come to check in on you occasionally throughout your appointment, checking that everything was going well. And of course, when it’s done he expects you to come to his office and show off. He doesn’t care if you interrupt anything, to him you’re his top priority always. Plus he loves to see his darling all dolled up, feeling like the prettiest person in all of Inazuma. In his opinion, you always are, dolled up or not.
Yandere!Pantalone appreciates your intense take on your looks as appearances are a huge thing in his line of work, both on the business aspect and the intimidation aspect. He wants people to see that his accumulated wealth doesn’t go to waste, that he didn’t work for nothing. No, he uses his mass amount of mora to spoil his beloved, someone he has no problem writing checks or opening his wallet for. Anyone else can mind their own, his money is yours. The only downside to this is that he’s a horribly busy man, he’ll find whatever stylists you want and find some way to bring them to the Palace so you can have your appointments in the security of the Harbingers, but it’s up to you to schedule the appointments and keep track of when you’ll need to see them again. Just make sure you tell him when they are when you go to flaunt your new hairstyle and nail’s to him.
Pantalone’s soft smile spread just a bit farther across his face as you came bounding into his office, a bright smile of your own. You had just gotten your hair done and nails touched up and he could tell you were back to feeling like yourself again. While he appreciated all your looks and sides, he loved seeing you smiling and happy, and if that meant spending all this money for you to get pampered, he didn’t mind. He didn’t understand a lot of the words you used as you described what they did to your hair and nails, but he happily listened anyway, his delicate smile never faltering as you retold the whole chain of events. Even if his smile was often for show, when you were around it was never more genuine. He holds your hands in his larger, gloved ones as he looks over your nails, his fingers lightly tracing over the designs with an amused glimmer in his eyes. You were certainly something, and he intended to keep that bright light of yours shining.
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