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luvjunie · 9 months

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— headcanons. what life is like for miles!42

a/n: i honestly didn’t mean for these to get so angsty oopsies!! i kept adding on so they’re also very lengthy wc: 1,751

contains: mentions of grief

Everyone thinks he’s rude and impossible to approach—but that’s a common misconception. In reality, he’s actually quite shy and simply prefers to keep to himself. His quiet nature often causes him to come off ill-mannered, which is completely unintentional on his end and partially the fault of those who assume what he’s like instead of actually getting to know him.

He used to be open to making friends and spending time with peers, but after everyone found out his dad died— which was impossible to prevent considering the man who used to drive him to school now had a giant mural made in his honor— he began receiving a ridiculous amount of pitied stares in the halls, began hearing hushed whispers about how hard things must be for him at home now. And even though they were, he hated that he was being treated differently by those he once kept close to him, like a charity case. As if he were fragile and would break— like he often did when he was alone.

His old friends were supposed to be his distraction, something to take his mind off how he now had to grow up faster than he’d liked. Something to remind him that his trauma hadn’t aged him as much as he feared; that he truly was still a kid at heart. But instead, they served as a constant reminder of the worst thing he’d ever had to live through— skated around him like he’d blow up the second they said the wrong thing; responded with heartfelt condolences instead of laughing with him whenever he’d tell a funny story about his dad. So eventually, he drifted away from them and began keeping to himself all together.

Don’t put him in a box because of his prowler side hustle, this boy is smart as hell!! Especially with one parent now being gone and his mom struggling to pay the bills? He takes his academics very seriously, he has no choice. He has to get it out the mud somehow and he doesn’t have the privilege of skipping classes as much as 1610-miles does. He’s working two years above his grade level in AP Calculus and AP physics, and has been accused of cheating on his tests a couple times due to how fast he completes them, as well as the fact that he has never once asked a question from the seat he chose in the back of the room.

It’s not something anyone would expect, but he enjoys baking a lot and he’s damn good at it too. When he was younger, he’d spent one summer with his Mamá Lena (Rio’s mother), who had him in the kitchen helping her cook and bake almost everyday and it just stuck. It’s a secret talent of his that never really comes up in conversation, and that you wouldn’t know about unless you’ve seen him doing it. His banana bread muffins using a recipe he took months to perfect taste like the gods themselves made them, and he’ll slip one into his mom’s work lunch whenever he makes them because he knows they’re her favorite.

He’s a lover boy at heart, if you were to look into his playlist, the songs you’d find in there probably wouldn’t be what you’d expect. Listens to bobby bland, which was heavily influenced by his uncle, old school rap, and he really likes love songs from the 90s because they make him feel calm, and allow him to imagine what his life would be like if he could have something like what they’re singing about. He’s terrified he’ll never be able to experience that due to his inability to open up to others. And often, he doesn’t even try to express the emotions that are tough to swallow, a firm believer in the saying that ‘once you’re down, it’s hard to get back up.’

Keeps his room pretty clean. It’s probably the one and only thing he has control over in his life, a constant for him. His room is his safe-haven so he treats it as such. It’s basically the same as 1610’s, just with a more matured look, a lot less color and less expression. He unfortunately lost that spark for a lot of his interests, so you won’t see more than a small punching bag, some boxing gloves hanging from the doorknob and few stragglers in the form of posters he didn’t feel like taking down.

He doesn’t like to argue, at all. He hates fighting with anyone he loves and he’s very quick to forgive them or squash the disagreement all together now that his dad is no longer here. When Jeff died, they were still on rocky terms from their previous dispute and even while years have passed, Miles still has yet to forgive himself for that. So now, he usually lets bygones be bygones, and never lets a conversation end on a bad note.

Continued growing his hair out once he realized it was a way for him to bond and spend more time with his mom. Within the little availability they do have, between her working doubles at the hospital, him being pulled in every direction now that he’s the ‘man of the house’—uncle Aaron’s words— and having to do things he’s not proud of to assist her while still going to school during the day, they make the time. Miles only gets it braided by her, and he enjoys the talks they have when he’s sat on the floor between her legs with his back to her. And when she’s done, regardless of how ridiculously embarrassing it is, and how he’s now over a head taller than her, he always lets her pinch his cheeks and call him her ‘handsome little man’. He hasn’t looked at a pair of hair shears since.

On that note, he is very, very defensive when it comes to his mother. Miles is not the kind to go around beating people up just for kicks; mostly because he’s not that kind of person, but also because even if he wanted to— he can’t.

In preparation for stepping into the prowler role Uncle Aaron put Miles into boxing/m.m.a classes when he turned fourteen, and he took to the skill very quickly. So well, in fact, that his hands can now technically be considered deadly weapons in the eye of the law due to his extensive training— which means he could get slapped with a ridiculous assault charge that would have him doing some time in a juvenile correction facility over a simple fist fight. (if he’s not masked as the prowler obviously).

But, some kid in his history class thought it’d be funny to make a slick comment about how Mrs. Morales was ‘single’ and ‘up for grabs’ now that his dad had passed, and the situation ended with Miles suspended for a week after he’d basically thrown his desk over to get to the kid, his knuckles bruised, and a tirade of complaints from the boy’s mother about his now-rearranged nose. However, after hearing the disgusting comment he had made about Miles’ mom, she was kind enough to not press charges and forced her son to apologize to the both of them.

That woman is his saving grace, literally. She stepped up in ways he didn’t even know were possible after his dad died, barely taking time for herself to grieve because she wanted to make sure her little boy didn’t fall apart. He doesn’t let anyone disrespect her and that’s always made known by him. He’s a mama’s boy.

They kind of have a titfortat thing going on, him and his mom. Like how she always stops in to ask him how his day was, if school is going well or if he needs anything, even if the time isn’t ideal and she’s talking to a sleepy Miles at 1am in the morning who can barely keep his eyes open. Or how his uniform is always freshly ironed and laid out for him in the morning, regardless of how exhausted she is and how badly she wants to crawl into bed after her shift. Or how when he’s sick, she’ll drive all the way across town to one of the only fresh markets that sells yuca root and white yautia so she can make him sancocho (a traditional puerto rican dish). It’s the one thing she knows always makes him feel better.

And Miles does nice things for her, too. Like draping a blanket over her sleeping form when she dozes off on the couch in front of the TV. Or making sure her phone is plugged in, so her alarm goes off in the morning, because sometimes she knocks out before she can bring herself to do it. He even goes as far as to secretly slip some extra cash he’s made from a recent job into the ‘RENT’ jar she keeps on her dresser— dropping a hundred in every now and then when she’s not there to see him do it. She’s never once asked him for help, but the one time he took it upon himself to offer it, he was shot down in seconds, and was made to promise her that he wouldn’t worry about it ever again. Her exact words being “You’re too young to worry about something like this mijo, okay? You take all the money you make from your after school job, every single penny, and you save it. Mama’s got this.”

But sometimes, she doesn’t. And Miles knows that she wants to be strong for him. For them. But it takes two, he knows that as well, so he helps out anyway.

And with prayers that they’re not short— Rio counts everything in the rent jar towards the end of the month, and a string of celebratory whoops and hollers will always sound from her room when she realizes they surprisingly have some extra cash that’ll allow her to take some days off and relax for once, and maybe even do something fun together. He’ll listen from his room with a knowing smile, more than happy to let his contributions remain undisclosed to affirm her efforts of providing for them the best she can. With her energy so depleted from how demanding her job is, she’s never suspected it was him discreetly assisting, and chalked it up to her forgetting how much she’d mindlessly dropped in there after each paycheck.

#junie’s works ᥫ᭡#i kinda went crazy i won’t even lie #my favorite headcanon is the baking one!!#earth 42 miles morales fanfiction #prowler miles fanfic #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles angst #miles morales headcanons #miles morales fanfiction #42 miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse fanfiction #across the spiderverse headcanons

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bookofthegear · 3 months

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“THAT” room is way too interesting a description for a bold adventurer like yourself to pass up. You stride confidently down the ramp. Jimmy’s claws tighten on your shoulder.

There’s some kind of mural on the passage wall, but you can’t make it out, and anyway it looks to have more to do with giant flaming avocados than with, say, wealth and glory. (And a spirit of scientific inquiry, naturally. It’s just that if, in plumbing the depths of the concrete maze, you happen to find some wealth that no one is using…well. Y’know.)

You’re honestly more concerned with what looks like high water marks in the room upstairs. Granted, it had dried out, but it is a basic rule of Dungeoneering not to get trapped by unexpected rising water, and the best way to do that is to know exactly when and how the water rises, and to arrange to be elsewhere. Jimmy, sadly, doesn’t have an answer.

“I’ve never seen it flooded…not personally…but I spend most of my time outside. Between, um, adventurers, I mean. Sometimes that takes weeks. It could flood then, and I’d never know.”

You’d rather like to know how many adventurers he’s worked with, but then you arrive at THAT room. It’s a largely featureless concrete box of a room, with two large pipes, one on top of the other, in the east wall. The pipes dribble rust and the occasional drop of water down the cement, and a metal grill of clear antiquity covers the bottom one.

The hobo sign for “danger,” three stacked diagonal lines, has been chalked beside the upper pipe.

There is also a thing on the floor. It is about four feet long, damp looking, and of a color one might generously call brownish. It has a certain…organic…lumpiness to it. The sort that usually involves time spent in a digestive tract.

You are not a biologist, but you’ve been in enough ruins to recognize an owl pellet when you see one.

You poke it a few times with the point of your walking stick. Bits of fabric and strands of hair fall away, revealing a gleam of bone. You poke again. Oh hey, they wore a retainer. Neat.

“He stuck his head in the pipe,” says Jimmy, sounding deeply discouraged. “That might have been ok, but then he said he saw something and crawled in, and…well. I couldn’t see what happened, but there was a lot of thrashing and screaming and what looked like bone hooks. It’s safe now, though!” he hastens to add. “It hasn’t ever come out of the pipe while I’ve been here. Err. I mean, I probably wouldn’t want to sleep here, though.”

“Fascinating,” you murmur. “What does it live on, I wonder? When it can’t get idiot?”

“Frogs, I think,” Jimmy says. “Big red ones. They’re all over.” He adds reluctantly, “Err…you’re not gonna try to fight it, are you?”

#choose your own adventure #t kingfisher #ursula vernon #book of the gear

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rahhhbananas · 5 months

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IT GIRL ★

- male reader!

- fandom : atsv!

- pair(s) : miles morales x male reader

- warning(s) : not proof-read!

“How long is this going to takee???”

Pavitr whined, he sat on the fire escape stairs, mindlessly fidgeting a rock. Gwen leaning against the bars smiled, “Come on Pav, it’s Y/n. He takes hours and I mean hourssss— To get ready.” Pav groaned at that statement alone, no longer bothered about how long it would take them, but how long it take to get something to eat.

“You talkin ‘bout Y/n, the hell Miles at? ‘Is got a good sense of fashion, but not good enuff to take this long.” Hobie groaned, his own stomach growling, Gwen snorted, her eyes crinkling from how large her smile was “This is only scraping the surface of those two. Once you’ve know them for a year or two, you start to prepare ahead of time.” Gwen reached into her bag, handing the two a bag of chips. “There, that should hold you guys.”

The two thanked their prepared friend, before their attention was draw to the window that had just opened. Miles walked out, he wore a black baggy jeans, a white shirt, and ontop of it navy blue varsity jacket, with white air forces. He smiled, as if he hasn’t been making the entire friend group starve for the past 20 minutes “Miles, my guy!!!”

“Oi! I trademarked that!”

“What?”

“I’m surprised you did anything involved being in the same room as a government official.”

“Yeah, ‘ve gotten real desperate after the last situation with Pav.”

“That wasn’t my faulttt!”

“What situation?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

“Okay..ignoring that totally normal..conversation, where’s Y/n? He’s glamorous and all, but taking this long? Is outrageous.” Gwen asked, sneaking a chip from Hobie’s bag.

“I’M HERE!! ★”

The group looked up, seeing Y/n on the set of stairs above them. He wore a cropped pink jacket, baggy jeans, white air forces, and on his back was a hello kitty backpack “So, where we feeling? Chinese, Pizza, BBQ? Oh, or Ice cream!” He rambled, not noticing the few irritated looks he got from his friends. “ANYTHING!” Pav screamed, using his hands to cover his face, “Anything, please.” Miles smiled, leading the group down the street, they chatted still deciding on their snacking spot.

“Oh! That cat café!” Gwen suggested, her eyes lite up at the thought of being surrounded by cute animals while enjoying a meal.

“Nah, ‘m allergic to cats.”

“And you care about your health for once? Shocking.”

“You don’t get it, bruv. My eyes swell so much I start thinking I’m in a kaleidoscope..”

“How does that even work?”

“We traveled through universes to get here, and that’s what you wanna ask?”

“Why don’t you say that louder, Pav? Maybe some crazy scientist will hear and try to kill us.”

“That’s so outta pocket.”

“lol.”

“Wow.”

“I have never heard someone say ‘lol’ in real life..that’s so— icky.”

“Pheww, good job, Gwen. Y/n has a new ‘ick’. Bravo.”

The group walked into the restaurant. It seemed to be based off the heros of Brooklyn, “Ugh, why’d we have to come to your restaurant?” Pav groaned. Hobie snorted, picking at the small figures of Spiderman, Miles’ black and red suit somehow blending with the restaurant aesthetic— he even noticed a few figures of the original hero, his merchandise in a corner that formed a sort of mural. The cashier took their orders, before they sat down at a booth near to the window.

“Do they have some of my merchandise!?!” Y/n looked around, his eyes searching the brick walls for some bit of pink. He sighed, giving up, slumping down in his seat, “Hey look, I think I saw some pink over there!” Hobie pointed, Y/n blinded by joy looked at where the teen was pointing to see a piece of chewed up bubble gum stucked to the floor, “…Why do I feel like we have issues, no matter the universe.”

“Hey, the people want what they want. And it’s clearly not you.”

“Wow, no consistency, or manners. Red flag there, Hobie.”

“Yikes.” Pavitr mumbled, sipping from his drink. Hobie however shook it off, relaxing more into his position. Miles took out his phone, snapping a few pics of the group waiting on their food, before the waiter arrived, handing out the dishes efficiently.

AN HOUR LATER!! ★

“Man, I am stuffed!” Hobie cackled, getting up from his seat. Gwen rolled her eyes, before looking at Y/n, he took his card and receipt back from the waiter. Joining his friends at the exit, the sun was starting to go down. “Damn, sundown already?” Hobie looked at his watch, noticing how late it truly was. Gwen laughed, “We left pretty late, because of two certain people.” Gwen jerked her head towards Y/n and Miles who were mindlessly talking about something while holding hands, the way they childishly would swing them every once and then looked somewhat endearing.

“We should head back to our universes though. Miguel set a curfew for a reason.”

“Or, we could brea-“

“Nope, the guy looked like he wanted to blow a vein last time I saw him. And I’m not looking to get chased on all fours, likes Miles.”

“Oh, come on! He wouldn’t catch us!”

“Hobart, no. We’re leaving.”

“Miguel not catching us? Hobie you are HILARIOUS!”

Gwen grabbed Hobie’s wrist, who although didn’t oppose the gesture physically, he looked to be doing it mentally “You’re lucky ‘m tired, Gwendy.” Gwen rolled her eyes, before throwing the lanky teen into the portal, waving goodbye to the two. Pavitr jumped through as well, shooting finger-guns at Miles before falling into the colorful abyss.

Miles smiled, wrapping his arms around Y/n’s shoulder. Making their route to his apartment. The couple chatted on their way home, talking about nothing important, but what’d they do when they got outta highschool, you know, the norm. Until they arrived at Y/n’s apartments, Miles walked him to the stairs, his eyes focused on Y/n’s each move.

“Thanks for buying our food today, especially with how Hobie and Pavitr ate. I’ll find a way to pay you back…” Miles mumbled, scratching the nape of his neck. Y/n smiled, grabbing Miles’ arm “No. don’t worry about it, you guys are my friends. I’d spend much more money on all of you If I could.” Miles laughed, “Yeah. But I’m starting to think Hobie’s allergic to paying for…well, anything.”

Y/n laughed loudly “And what you said earlier, I don’t have a lot of ‘icks” Miles scoffed, looking at his boyfriend in disbelief at the statement. Y/n groaned “I’m serious! You’ll never have to worry about icks, because you’re perfect.”

“Really? Thanks. 😏”

“You know, except that.”

“A smirk!?!?!”

“Yeah, it makes you look like a Sonic character.”

“What??”

“But I should go, my dad’s probably already made lunch.” Y/n kissed Miles on the cheek, before walking into the apartment doors.

“Wha? You can’t walks away like that!!”

“Is it a sonic character you hate??”

“What? No, i love Shadow!”

#male reader #cute #across the spiderverse #gay #across the spiderverse x reader #across the spiderverse x male reader #miles molares #marvel x male reader #miles morales x male reader #black male reader #1610 miles morales #hobie brown #gwen stacy #pavitr prabhakar #kinda refrencing my spider plush fic #first post after my hiatus #i feel asleep before I could post it last night

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eunoiathewriter · 1 year

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X. THORPE X F!READER

Sypnosis: This friends with benefits thing does not work. It was not what he had meant for it to become. ( SMUT )

Word Count: 3.2k

Xavier got broken out of his mind by someone smacking his leg lightly. He saw who it was as he looked down from the ladder he was standing on, brush still in hand and airpods still in place with music playing. y/n was just walking past with Ajax by her side and smiled up at him while passing. He did the same before returning to the mural he was working on as his two friends walked out to sit in the courtyard, where all of the other students were.

At first, he did not think all that much about the interaction, once again completely focusing on his work while the song changed to another by the same artist. His mind was empty for a minute or so before something popped inside it. Wait a minute.

Had they been having their arms linked?

Turning away from the mural, his gaze was drawn to the courtyard, which was teeming with students, the majority of whom belonged to one of the five major cliques. Ajax sat with Y/N, slightly away from where he usually sat. The boy sat on top of one of the benches, talking to the girl as she sat where they were supposed to sit. But they were close—so close, closer than he had ever seen Ajax and y/n ever be.

His brow furrowed as he looked at the two. But it seemed as though Ajax had said something funny because y/n were laughing. The way she did it was the same as whenever they were alone, when he would surprisingly put his lips on hers and she'd be surprised. She would laugh lightly before reconnecting their lips, knowing what he wanted.

Or how she acted when she would pull away after a while, as if she was going to abandon him. She would act as if she was no longer into the kiss or something, but as soon as he would kiss her back, a laugh would escape from her before their lips connected again.

Had he missed that she would laugh like that when she was with other people, or was this the first time?

It felt as if just a crack, one singular crack, had appeared in his heart at seeing the interaction. Watching how y/n faked a pout at Ajax before chuckling, much like she did with him those nights when she would have to leave.

"Can't you just stay a little while longer?" He turned his head towards her, as she had just gotten dressed.

"Trust me, I would, your bed is much more comfortable than mine, but Mrs. Thornhill is going to flip on me." y/n stood, picking up her zip-up.

"Oh, come on, it's not like you haven't been able to sneak past her before."

"Yeah, until she caught me a few days ago and said I would get extra homework if it happened again." She looked down at him, picking up the phone that laid on the bed beside him. Curfew was in a few minutes.

"You'll be back in time in just a few minutes." He had been able to grab hold of her wrist. Pulling her towards the bed, his eyes begged for her to stay a few more minutes.

"Aw, you want me to stay?" y/n faked a pout at him before chuckling, causing Xavier to roll his eyes at her and let go of her wrist.

"So you're just going to leave me here?" His tone was playful.

"Yes." y/n grabbed her shoes while walking towards the door. "And I'm going to do homework because, thanks to you, my original plans were ruined."

"Stop acting like you don't enjoy it."

It was all just so stupid. They were this thing—what most would call friends with benefits—only because he chickened out at the last minute. All because once he had taken the shot and kissed her, she had been confused and asked him what that was for. And now here they were, in this thing where they were still just friends.

All because his heart got caught in his throat as he was about to ask the question aloud, and it came out as a question asking if they could have this thing instead. They were friends, but they kissed; they had sex because they knew each other and knew they could get the pleasure they desired. Only that, at least, Xavier wanted more.

For him, it was not just the kisses, makeouts, or sex that he wanted from her. But he was also content to have that with her if it didn't lead anywhere else. He wanted more. Though the kisses, makeouts, and sex were good, there were other parts of it that he wanted more often.

He wanted to be able to just have her rest there beside him, sound asleep and content where she was. All while he could run his fingers along her spine, laying next to her and watching as, even through sleep, her lips would pull into a smile at the contact. It had only happened a few times in the previous months, and he had enjoyed it each time.

He wanted to be able to press kisses to her forehead, nose, cheek, crown of her head, or even just her lips outside of any of their dorms. He wanted to be able to show the world what they had and how happy he was. Xavier didn't want that to stay behind closed doors. He also wanted her to know that every kiss, every compliment, and every time he looked at her was real. It wasn't just a spur of the moment decision or him needing something.

He thought he knew love when he was with Bianca for a while, but it turned out he really never knew how love felt. He'd never felt his heart flutter so much just by being close to someone.

He just wanted it to be different.

With the way she was laughing with Ajax, their conversation going back and forth as he watched made his jaw tighten, turning away from the sight with his lips pressed together tightly. Trying to go back to his mural and telling himself that y/n and Ajax were just friends.

But no matter how much he tried to tell himself otherwise, it seemed as if there was no way to convince his brain that was not the case. Jealousy was bubbling inside of him.

——

It has not been hard to know that there is something wrong with Xavier. The whole time that y/n had Bern in his dorm, he was quiet. Even though he had schoolwork, he would try to strike up a conversation with her most of the time. But today he had not said anything; really, all he said was "hello" when she came and knocked on his door, making sure no one would see her enter so that they could study.

Their agreement, when it came to things, had been simple. They could come to one another when one needed some release, but of course the other had to be there with it too, and things were not to get awkward between them, which had worked great as they still hung out as normal, and it was at least twice a week that one or the other would need something more.

They never felt awkward when they were together, happy that they still remained close no matter what they were doing. Well, it had worked up until now, apparently.

y/n had just finished writing on an essay, letting out a sigh, and laying her head down on Xavier's bed, then pushing herself to sit up after lying on her stomach for so long. Still, no word had come from Xaviers' mouth as he just sat by the head of his bed, being long done with homework, he had started sketching out of boredom.

She turned around, gathering up her books and computer to put them on the floor before moving to sit beside him at the head of his bed. He glanced at her before turning his eyes back to the sketch, not acknowledging her.

"Is something wrong?" She moved her head to look up at him from the sketch while asking and waiting for an answer.

"No." Xavier shrugged his shoulders at her, unconsciously becoming more hard on the hand as he drew away.

"There's got to be something wrong, you haven't said a single thing for the last hour." y/n pointed this out to him, which made him stop and shake his head.

"It's nothing."

For a moment, she contemplated just stopping asking him what was wrong, seeing as he refused to give her an answer and clearly was in a bad mood. But as she thought a bit more, just laying there beside him and looking up at his face, she could see the slightest bit of hurt in his eyes. This caused y/n to furrow her brows at the green-eyed boy.

"Stop lying. Have I done something?" Her question made him drop his pen, shaking his head, just wanting her to drop it all.

"Why does it matter so much?" Finally he looked down at her, but almost as soon as his eyes met her, he averted them. Why didn't he just ask that question once and everything would be fine?

"Because you're clearly ignoring me, and it makes me worry."

Finally, the last bit of water was filled in the cup as it suddenly flowed over the edge. He slammed his sketchbook shut, hard. It made y/n jump slightly where she lay on his bed. Standing up, he turned. "Maybe you should worry about your fucking boyfriend instead."

She sat up because of the words. Her eyes widening just slightly, her mouth agape, she stared at him. Trying to get out any words, but instead they all just died on her tongue and made her sit there, staring at him for a while while he stared back before scoffing and running a hand through his hair.

"What?" Her eyes were no longer wide, but her brows were furrowed in confusion at him, and it was the only thing she could say.

"You know, that boyfriend of yours you forgot to tell me about that you spent lunch with?" His voice was sarcastic, but inside he felt his stomach turn with jealousy.

It took a good moment to understand. Boyfriend? y/n didn't have a boyfriend. Was he stupid? Had she not made her feelings clear lately? Had those quick kisses on the cheek or forehead before she would leave after sex not been enough? Did he truly think she was only in this for the sex and makeouts? How stupid could a person be?

"Ajax." It was not a question but a try on her part to see how he would react to her saying his name. That had to be who he meant; Ajax and her had spent the entire lunch hour together.

She did get a reaction. He rolled his eyes, looking off to the side while letting out an exasperated sigh. This caused y/n to stand up, eyes wide, just like before, looking at him in disbelief. How in the holy hell did he ever get that idea into his head?

"You think I'm with Ajax?" She slowly started to walk around his bed to the side he was on, studying him for any reaction that would come. Again, all she got was an exasperated sigh.

"Were you planning on just not telling me and keeping leading me on or what?" That last part made Xavier bite his tongue, realising he had just exposed himself by dropping his flailing arm to his side.

"You... you think I'm sleeping with Ajax and that I would just not tell you I was?" She had moved even closer, now standing just about six feet from him.

Xavier did not give her an answer, sitting down on the edge of his bed and only staring at her. He had a hard time looking into her eyes, which hurt, like, actually hurt, that he couldn't even do that.

"You really think I would do that?" Instead of being irritated, her voice was soft. Xavier appeared to have had a realisation because he looked off to the side, slightly embarrassed, and shrugged.

"I was helping him with how to ask Enid out." Finally, the blonde-brunette boy picked his head up, brows knitted together. "Ajax has a crush on Enid, and she likes him too. He wanted help with how to approach her and just stuff like that."

"Oh," He breathed.

"Oh," y/n repeated, moving a little closer again. "Do you think I only agreed to this because it meant I would get sex?"

She motioned between the two of them when saying this; neither of them liked to call it "friends with benefits," as they had both, this whole time, had feelings for one another. Because they both wanted it to be more than it actually was.

There was no answer, so she stepped a bit closer, now standing right in front of where he sat on the bed. It had become such an instinct for Xavier to put his hands on her hips when she stood in front of him like that that he did not think for a moment before doing so. But he still did not look at her, which made her sigh a little.

Leaning in, she connected their lips as she had so many times before, only that this time it meant something much more. It took him by surprise, but he gradually melted into it, his arms looping around her waist and pulling her in closer. Xavier could feel her smile against his lips and her arms around his neck, as he had so many times before.

"Do you really think I would agree to this if I didn't love you?" y/n pulled away for just a second; seeing his eyes lit up made a smile pull at her lips.

"How would I know?" His question came out more as a little joke, with his brows raised in a joking manner.

"Shut up,"

With that, she leaned in, attaching her lips to his jaw. The boy hummed in contentment, leaning his head to the side, and closing his eyes as he felt the familiar sensation. This time, unlike the many times over the past two—maybe three—months, it felt different. It felt more intimate now that he knew she did not have her eyes on anyone else and that she wanted more than what they had.

Slowly pulling away from him, y/n stood back up, his arms still around her waist. In his eyes, she could see that look that he had when he first kissed her. The night when it had happened, instead of confessing, he asked for the whole "friends with benefits" thing.

Their lips met, and without warning Xavier leaned back, pulling y/n with him as he fell back onto the bed. His hands moved from her hips up underneath the shirt she was wearing, feeling her soft skin and running his hands up and down her sides, then slowly moving his hands up and letting them rest right beneath where her bra started. Just keeping a gentle hold of her there.

Pulling away once more, y/n sat up a little, straddling his hips, and her hands lifted the end of his shirt. Xaviers' lips were drawn into a soft smile, his eyes roaming her body shamelessly. "What?"

"I'm just.. taking my time." She explained as he sat up, helping her take his shirt off.

y/n found it difficult not to be flustered once his t-shirt was removed, as she leaned against his bare shoulder, arms around Xaviers neck. Taking this as his chance, Xavier attached his lips to her neck.

Hums, whimpers, and other means of pleasure came from both of them as they switched who was doing what, slowly ending up fully on the bed. Going from him being on top to her being on top, neither of them were in a hurry for anything. Wanting to take their time. Then her shirt went off, and Xavier took his sweet time watching her body, more than he ever had before. It was almost as if he was trying to remember every detail of her—something he had previously considered unacceptable.

It was her turn to be on top now. Her hands tangled in his hair as she deepened their kiss, her legs straddling his lap as his hands affectionately ran up and down her sides. It was now one of his favourites.

It seemed she did not notice it, but slowly she began moving her hips around, trying to get comfortable. Xavier slowly separated his lips from hers, leaning back and groaning at the sensation her movement gave him.

"Stop," He breathed, holding her hips still.

"Something wrong?" Her brows furrowed, scared she'd done something wrong, even if they had done this a multitude of times over the past months.

"No, no. Just... uh, fuck."

Finally, he was done taking his time. He needed her now. He needed to finally get to doing this with her, knowing she was totally into him too. Taking her by surprise as he moved forward, she fell down on the mattress with him above her.

It all then happened so fast—both beings were stripped of their clothes while just staring at one another. This really was different than all the other times they had sex. Truly, this was so much more intimate now that they knew how each other felt.

"You okay?" Xavier asked before doing anything, and her half-lidded eyes and nod told him all he needed.

Her hands reached up to grab his shoulders, the desperate feeling in her stomach finally satisfied as Xavier gave her the pleasure she craved. For a moment, they just stopped to take in the feeling.

Then, with each movement, either one or both of them let out a light moan of pleasure, a groan, or a slightly shaky breath. Their requirements are being met. She drew him closer, clutching him with each of his moments as she revelled in the pleasure he could give her. He knew exactly what pace to maintain; she didn't need to tell him how she wanted it because he had learned and focused on both of them.

The knot in her stomach gradually untied, and her grip on Xavier's shoulder tightened as she felt him push himself to his limit, which came not long after her. He sighed loudly as he relaxed before lying down on top of the girl.

They finally got their breathing back to normal after some silence."You're really daft, you know that right."

"Are we really going to do this now?" Xavier leaned on his elbow after having just rested his head on y/n's shoulder.

"You were jealous," Her voice sang out the words, making his eyes roll.

"So, you're mine now anyway, right?"

"Always has, and you're the only one I want."

Taglist:

@getbillzoned @honeybubblepopp @mrskeery-mclaughlin @aspenreadsfanfic @wonderlandco @alicews @l4venderia @navs-bhat @ariianelle @moose-ubi @lomllino @honey-with-tea @rayliz793 @moatsnow @s0ftdr1nks @writing-fanics

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cor-lapis · 3 months

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I decided to have a go at doing my own redesigns because these three are my favourites and I love them very much. further notes + sources under the readmore (warning: lots of text). I did my best with the research, but if there's anything I overlooked, I'd really appreciate people letting me know :)

Tighnari:

My main source for Tighnari was this excellent thread, from which I looked up each item of clothing individually. Since djellabas tend to be quite long, and Tighnari needs mobility for forest ranger activities, I figured he would cut and re-hem the lower half. He also has a lot of clothing pieces that are traditionally multicoloured, but to keep his design cohesive I decided to use the same colours across different items, but using a larger palette of colours than I would usually. I like the bright colours on him a lot though!

There are also some minor details I just changed because I wanted to. The flower on his chest is now a nilotpala lotus, because I thought it was nice to include his acension material/the material he asks you to help gather. The dirt stains/scuff marks are because rainforests are muddy and I wanted the design to emphasise Tighnari being very practical and hands-on with his work (see also, the specimen belt).

Finally, I shrunk the magnifying glass on his back (because I'm pretty sure it's meant to be his first magnifying glass toy and that thing is very large for a child to handle) and gave him an undercut because it seemed right. Also, I merged his front and back trailing cloths into a scarf type of thing that he could wrap around his nose and mouth to prevent inhaling spores from mushrooms.

Collei:

COLLEI my beloved. I had a mild nightmare trying to figure out a specific source culture for her design, but nobody seemed to know specifics and her outfit wasn't matching with any traditional dress I looked up, so in the end decided to keep the overall look the same. Just in case I assigned her something else, but then it turned out I missed her actual inspiration.

Anyway, I made her shoes simpler (no fur, heels, and open toes in the rainforest seemed reasonable to me), and gave her shorts. I liked the green colour because it's pretty unique under a dark dress, and pairs nicely with Nahida's white dress + green undersides. Amber's tie stays, but I made most of her jewellery smaller since it felt a little clunky for a trainee ranger.

Her earring and necklace(?) are allusions to the Evil Eye and the Khmissa/Hamsa, both symbols of protection. Especially considering the fact they're meant to ward off evil, and very common across multiple MENA cultures, it seemed fitting for Collei to have them. Also, she has Eleazar scars, and I used the design for her stockings as inspiration for the combination knee braces (similar to those used for arthritis, since Eleazar also causes stiff limbs and I HC that people affected would probably still need some recovery support)/knee pads (in the case of a fall). I like the idea that Kaveh would have helped make them for her (tangent but the fic Here is the House explores similar ideas; it's really really good, I heavily recommend it). Finally, she has curly hair because I thought it would be cute.

Cyno:

Here's the thread I found for Cyno. The main critique was to do with the eras from which each aspect of his clothing drew inspiration, but I admittedly wouldn't be able to do much about this without a lot of research. One thing I did try and verify was the small strip of cloth on the left of his chest, and I found a few wall murals where the people seem to be wearing similar strips of cloth? (example here; rightmost figure) Therefore, I didn't remove it, but if someone wants to explain Ancient Egyptian clothing history to me I'd be really interested to hear it 6.6

I might iterate on the design in the future, but for now the changes are mostly HC territory. Cyno wearing his hair in locs (a protective hairstyle) makes sense for someone who does a lot of hiking after rogue scholars, and I also gave him quite old and faded top surgery scars because healthcare is canonically free in Sumeru (thanks for that information, al-Haitham)(though tbf Cyno makes bank anyway). I also adjusted the colours a bit, since Genshin tends to use desaturated shades for metallic elements.

I also considered giving Cyno more scars, but figured that it could indicate Hermanubis' presence that someone you'd expect to get injured a lot is relatively scar-free (i.e. some sort of godly healing factor/resistance to damage). However, we know next to nothing about Hermanubis, so Cyno having a lot of scars also makes sense. This paragraph is mostly just a cry for help cyno story quest 2 literally any more elaboration about the nature of Hermanubis' pact and the Temple of Silence.

Conclusion

I wasn't intending to write one when I started the explanations but this got REALLY long so if you made it this far, thank you so so much ToT please check out the links; the threads especially were a great resource, and I'm grateful that people take the time to make them <3 genshin's character design department are cowards but I'm glad I learned some new things through the redesign process

#FINALLY #IT'S DONE #I don't know why this took so long. maybe because I was trying new art style stuff #anyway I like how this came out!! my favourite guys #my main thoughts for each of them were like. tighnari <- kind of a chad. collei <- should get to wear shorts. cyno <- gap moe #<- i say having written 9 paragraphs about the development thoughts under the readmore. wahey #big shoutout to everyone who draws the archers ripped. you guys are inspirational #genshin impact #tighnari #collei #cyno #my art

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hyomaluvr · 1 year

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Michael Kaiser - NSFW Alphabet

cw // reader is afab, objectification, s&m, degradation, not proof read, sorry for any odd formatting :(

Aftercare: Kaiser can take care of the things he thinks are worth it. Fortunately, you’ve become one of those things! He really loves playing with you, but he knows to clean up his mess. He’ll sit you in his lap and wash you himself, right down to your skin care routine. It’s insufferable to think about the inevitable Kaiser debt this will put you in, but you can’t help relaxing against his chest.

Body parts: His favorite part of himself? What’s not to love? He can’t decide! (It’s his adonis’ belt) As for you, anywhere he can grab that will humiliate you in public. It’s a fun way to keep you in check, and if he can squeeze it he will 90% of the time he’s with you.

Cum: Please, you’re just a mural to him. It’s lovely when he gets to have his way with you like this, his fingers tracing over the indents of your hips and tugging at your nipples. The highlight is of course the cum messily splayed over your womb and your cute, whiny face dripping with a mixture of his seed and your sweet tears. Loves cream pies just to look at. Kaiser isn’t going to eat his own cum but he sure as hell will take anything at all you give him like a complete animal.

Dirty Secret: One time when he was beating to you alone he got way more into it than he ever thought he could. Messy tied hair, foggy glasses, and his fist wrapped around his cock, he was completely tunnel visioned in on this stupid fantasy wracking his brain. It was so easy to picture what his fist could be instead of what it was, and it was irritating. He shouldn’t want you this much, it's so absurd, but there are breathy, weak moans parting his lips, and he feels like he’s going to combust. It’s not about chasing his orgasm, he just wants to feel your warmth around him. The thing that makes this something he’ll never tell? When he came ropes onto his abs and lower pecs, there were tears in his eyes, the same kind that he cruelly liked to observe from you whenever he had you and your highs wrapped around his finger. Not to mention that Ness would’ve come rushing in at the sound of his high pitched, sweet cries if the door wasn’t locked. He can’t ever let anyone know that you gave him damn near mind break despite being nowhere near him.

Experience: He’s the kind of piece of shit that sleeps with a girl from each country he visits. It’s funny because if he pushes you against a wall and tries to flirt with you he’s totally confident, but if you flirt back or challenge his dominance in any way he keeps accidentally fumbling over his words. Why does he have to feel like the biggest virgin ever around you when he has a tenfold of your experience? At least he’s really damn good at what he does to you.

Favorite position: Riding. Shit, he loves when you’re on top of him, he can see everything bouncing just how he likes it and best of all, you can’t hide a thing from him. Even underneath you, he knows what to do to best make you feel good. Best of all? He gets to dig his nails into your thighs and leave pretty marks alongside all of the deep purple hickeys on your skin.

Goofy: If the mood calls for it, sure. Especially when he’s making you ride his thigh, looking at you with this shit-eating grin, mocking your moans and whimpers. Sometimes though, every once in a blue moon, all traces of jokingness are absent from his eyes, and you can’t tell what he’s thinking. It’s pretty intimidating when you’re fully naked underneath a fully clothed Kaiser who’s just staring down at you. “Mein liebling” falls from his lips as his hands roam your body. He doesn’t want you to think too hard about this, doesn’t want you to consider how he feels. He prays that you won’t ask questions and just let him love you silently. Just this once, he tells himself, just this once he’ll make love to you and take down his walls.

Hair: Messy, but well kept. Almost dyed his pubes blue for a bet but he ran out of bleach before he could try. Kinda likes seeing your face pressed into his curls when he’s face fucking into you.

Intimacy: Sex with Kaiser, unless he’s in his feelings as mentioned before, is pretty much always some lower level of intimate. Don’t feel insecure though, because he’s never really been intimate with anyone before, not really, so you’re privileged and you should be grateful he spoils you. It’s very easy for Kaiser to get a lot of pent up stress, frustration, and anxiety from his surroundings, so when he can drill his hips into you, he can’t help but feel some gratitude— even he’s not that much of an ass. You’re his first real love, so that has to count for something in his head. Head pets, deep kisses, giving oral, all of these things are helpful for him to articulate his real feelings for you.

Jack off: He jerks it often. Every time he has a relaxation period, he’ll get out lotion and incense, lean back and pump his cock slowly. It’s a routine for him, and at this point he knows to a tee how exactly to make himself feel good. This latter point is a problem when you can hear him in the bathroom, stroking it just like he knows you want to while letting out those lewd grunts and curse words. That’s the worst part— he refuses to say your name when he touches himself around you, and he plays totally innocent when he comes out. He’ll even put you over his knee and spank you if you push him on it. “Fucking whore can’t even get my dick off your nasty mind for a goddamn second. You shouldn’t tell lies, right? So don’t fucking say I was jerking to you. Count to ten. Or can you not even do that?” All the while both of you are keenly aware of the fact that he just blew his load seconds ago to the image of your ahegaoing face. He just likes to play with you like this.

Kinks: Humiliation, degradation, s&m, being called master/daddy, receiving anything that leaves a mark (scratches on his back, hickies, bite marks, etc.), dacryphilia, slight exhibition, face fucking, brat taming, objectification, edging, overstimulation…the list goes on, these are just some basic ones.

Location: He won’t fuck you anywhere anyone else would see you. Unfortunately he’s way too possessive and obsessed to get up to his old antics of not giving a shit about his partner in sex. However, he’ll let people hear how he’s defiling you, in fact he wants it. You’re his, and he’d love to give passerbys a taste of his life of luxury.

Motivation: If Kaiser wants to have sex with you, he’s going to make that as clear as possible. If the thought of having sex with you so much as pops into his head, that’s all the motivation he needs. Still, if you wear his clothes, send him even a non sexual picture that he thinks is cute, show off your butt a little too much, any of it, he’s going to find something to tease his cute partner about until he’s giving you orgasm after orgasm.

No: You’re not getting a threesome from him. Mention someone on the blue lock team even as a joke and he deadpans. Kaiser might be a handful to say the least, but he’s faithful and he will consistently make clear to you that now that you’ve tamed the beast in him, it’s your responsibility.

Oral: Prefers receiving. Bonus points if you give extra oral attention to his balls. He’s mean, he’ll push your head as both punishment and encouragement. Still, you cumming on his tongue is a frequent occurrence too. Since he’s so possessive over you, it’s only fair that he shows you that he’s all you need. At the end of the day, you’re a lot more in control than you think.

Pace: It varies, surprisingly. Kaiser used to be pretty careless about his pace, selfishly fucking into someone as fast and hard as possible, but lately he’s grown accustomed to slowing it down. Oh, you thought it was because of something cute like his love for you? Don’t make him fucking sick (although that’s not really wrong…), he just likes to watch you ache for his length. Nothing is more validating than how he can make you beg and crumble for him with just the pace of his thrusts.

Quickie: Only in public or if it’s in the early morning. If he has time for you then he’s giving it to you for as long as it takes until you’re both satisfied.

Risk: Again, he’s not risking anyone seeing you. He will risk people hearing you, realizing you’re actively having sex or just finished, and getting caught making out with you or groping you.

Stamina: You think stamina is an issue for someone who quite literally ranked S class for that exact category? You’re in for a rude awakening because he’s going to use up your holes until you’re satisfied. Come on, let him get a picture of you sticking up your butt and showing off your cute little cream pie with those handprints and hickies all over your ass. Be a good pet for master.

Toys: He’ll buy you whatever you want, really anything at all. Vibrators to nipple clamps to anal beads, it’s all fun and games to him. How fast does this vibrator go? Can’t you keep this plug in for him until he gets back from practice? He’s going to try putting the dildo in your ass while he fucks your other hole with his cock, okay? Kaiser is a damn mess when it comes to new ways of ruining you.

Unfair: Kaiser is straight up evil. He’s not really a patient man, but he is petty, and if he makes a rule and you break it, you’re getting punished. Or worse, he’ll stop touching you altogether and leave if that’s his ultimatum. He does this all so when he finally does give you what you want, you’re crying his name, thanking him for his mean behavior, and gratefully taking what he’ll give you. It’s just so, so cute how he can break you even from being so cruel.

Volume: He’s pretty good at keeping a handle on his volume usually. If he’s taken off guard, super fucked out, or you’ve put him into a position of submission he can’t help being so loud. Otherwise, you’re getting animalistic grunts, moans into your ear, and hisses of curse words.

Wild card: He’ll often tell you to “take responsibility” while avoiding eye contact to hide the slight redness on his face. Please give him what he wants, if he has to beg that would humiliate him to his core, and outright ordering you to do it isn’t fun. It’s hard for Kaiser to relinquish the reins to you, but that elusive second you see him completely let go it’s all worth it. It’s a new level of vulnerability— it’s not like he’s submitting to you, but he’s giving you the uncharacteristic view of him gripping the sheets, tongue flicked out of his mouth as his chest heaves up and down. Tell anyone about it and he’ll fuck you so hard you can’t walk for days as a punishment though.

X-Ray: 7 inches, curved to the left, nice and thick, circumcised. He’s got a real pretty cock and it slaps his stomach nicely every time he pulls his pants down when he’s hard.

Yearning: Kaiser thought lust and love were pathetic. You should always be able to keep your monkey-brained emotions in check and not be such a fucking cuck. That’s why it makes him feel dizzy with irritation the way he wants you, the way he dreams about you, the way he keeps getting these stupid accidental boners— he can’t keep himself together at first. As time goes on he’s gotten more used to accepting and dealing with his feelings for you, but he can never deal with how bad he wants you when it gets bad. If he can get you, he’ll have you. He HAS to have you.

Zzz: Kaiser stays awake for at least 20 minutes after you feel asleep. He uses the quiet to gaze over your sleeping form and reflect. If he can get a little time off practice in the morning he should take you to a bakery and let you pick something out. Oh, but if you sleep in, then maybe he should just go himself and pick out your favorite for you. A new stuffed animal might make you happy too…Kaiser’s mind is filled with these stupid tooth rotting thoughts when he’s next to his utterly spent, peaceful lover. He hates it, but he loves you.

#blue lock #bllk #bluelock #my work #michael kaiser #michael kaiser smut #kaiser #ブルーロック #not sfw #kaiser smut #kaiser x reader #alphabet

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mechaknight-98 · 29 days

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The Owl and the Bunny Part II FT Chaehyun

Authors note: A special request from @leafostuff. I was tasked with Finishing a piece of his that he couldn’t I hope I did okay as I took some creative liberties

Part I

Trigger Warning: Blood, Self Harm, Attempted autounalivement

Relapsing was undoubtedly the worst, but the situation became even more tangled when an unexpected connection entered the picture again. Sitting solitary in your apartment, another birthday slipped by, and there you were, gazing down upon the bustling Seoul night sky, feeling life's swift passage. You triumphed after the toils of college and relentless job searches—you secured the high rise, garnered accolades, and clinched a new promotion, all on your birthday. Yet, despite these achievements, why does an unsettling hollowness persist? When did this sentiment first take root?

You know when. it was when your favorite Bunny left you...

But before that can be stated there is some background that must be established. Before everything fell apart it was great. it was a humid summer evening you were celebrating your 3rd year of friendship. You were doing well in Top Grades, top in your chosen sport football (US Soccer), and top best friend to one happy bunny. As you sat there and watched her indulge in a mural favorite food. Your heart swelled. You decided to take a chance. You noticed her fidgeting in between bites and said “Hey Bunny I have something I gotta tell you.” Your bunny smiles and turns to you.

“Oh, Ow-lie I have something too.” She says excitedly. Enraptured by her you gesture for her to tell you her news first.

“I’m going to be on a survival show.” She bellows with a proud look. Your eyes go wide, and your heart sinks. You hide your sadness and dissatisfaction with a loving smile and a supportive hug.

“That’s great news bunny. I know you’ve been working so hard to become an idol,” you say calmly.

She hugs you again and you know this is probably one of the last times you’ll see her again. So you lie, and it breaks your heart so that she can pursue her dream.

“Oh that’s great I am so happy for you. I just wanted to tell you that I got accepted into Yale.” Bunny’s eyes go wide with pride but a pit in her heart forms as she knows that this.

That was it. The worst day of your life everything since then has been a slow burn to another downward spiral.

You're being a bit dramatic, don't you think? You know it too. She pursued her dream of shining brighter for everyone around her. She embraced her role in the forest, just like you did. You worried, but at least now you're paid for it—and exceptionally well, I might add. You ventured into business and mathematics, culminating in a successful Risk Aversion Consulting firm. Every big-name company sought your expertise during crises, ensuring almost certain recovery. Yet, why does it all feel so hollow?"You watch over and instead of celebrating after a long day's hard work, you find yourself with a knife around your wrists.

Three weeks ago, you believe you fell back into that dark spiral. Time blurred into a monotonous, endless loop from which you couldn't break free. It's hard to pinpoint exactly, but what triggered this relapse was a seemingly innocuous encounter: witnessing a happy couple during your daily walk to work. Perhaps you've passed them a thousand times before, but what struck you that day was witnessing the man's heartfelt proposal. Instead of joy, it only amplifies the ache in your heart. And so, the vicious cycle begins anew. Alone in your apartment once more, you start over. You reach out to your bunny for the first time in three years, hoping against hope that she could offer some solace, but alas, hope has often been a disappointment for you.

The text travels halfway across the city at the speed of information. A hand reaching out, A Cry for help, a prayer all contained with an invitation from one of Seoul's most sought-after and secretive bachelors. where a different kind of Emptiness gnaws at a soul. Despite being part of one of the most well-liked and appreciated girl groups of the 4th gen and arguably one of the most talented members The Bunny with the charisma of a tiger sat alone in the dorm. despite gaining 6 new sisters Chaehyun had never felt more alone. she longed for simpler times with her Owl, but he's probably long forgotten about her since she went radio silence 2 years ago when Kep1er started. it was especially true since this was her birthday. The Uncertainty of extension weighs heavily on her heart. The comments on her body, the unending Panoptic Gaze held upon her were unrelenting and she often sat in her room for hours holding back tears. She tried to hide it with a facade of Joy and bubbly energy but the mirror was cracking each day as more and more the ever-growing beast took more of her soul. The text reached her at her lowest, 3 past midnight she was crying silently to not wake her members. She read the text and could almost feel the isolation and hurt coming from the small LCD Screen

My Favorite you know how: Hey Bunny,

I hope this message finds you in good spirits. Another birthday has come and gone, and I'm grateful to have made it through. I trust you're indulging in plenty of sweets and enjoying all the pizza your heart desires. I caught wind of your latest comeback, and as expected, it was fantastic. Don't let those negative comments get under your skin too much; you're incredibly brave, far braver than I could ever be. Though, I suppose you've always had a knack for taking risks—a trait I've always admired, albeit from a safe distance.

I find myself extending the same old invitation to hang out once more, but who am I kidding? You've probably changed your number by now, and I'm likely just bothering whoever happens to receive this message.

Apologies for the intrusion,

-Y/N

You are surprised when you get a reply saying "I'll be there in 15." Your eyes widen. is your bunny coming back to you you wonder? is this your chance to finally tell how you feel? A million ideas and thoughts race through your head. it's so overwhelming that you forget about your current situation. You begin to tidy your large apartment picking up the clothes strewn around the room and forget about the increasing blood trail following you as you lose yourself in your tasks. you get so caught up that the blood loss eventually catches up with you and you pass out in the middle of your living room as more blood drips away.

Chaehyun in classic fashion opens the door without knocking when she sees you on the floor and screams.

When you come to you're in a bed that you don't recognize. you look around and see star-white walls with an insistent beeping. You sit up and hear.

"Oh you're finally awake." you turn to the voice and see a doctor. he is an older gentleman who stares at you with a somber look.

"You're lucky your girlfriend found you when she did. Otherwise, I don't think you would have made it." The Doctor Chides. You lean further into your bed after looking down and seeing your bunny who has come to rescue you. tears well up in your eyes, as you try not to cry. A memory flashes in your mind of you not leaving her, and in your selfishness you almost did.

Chaehyun stayed with you well into the morning after your "accident," feeling a deep sense of responsibility for leaving her Ow-lie behind. In her dreams, she wandered through a dark forest, desperately searching for her Owl, only to find scattered feathers. Suddenly, something stirred, and Chaehyun felt a wet sensation land on her. Looking up, she saw you crying atop her, murmuring apologies. Surprised, she gently cradled your face and kissed you, sharing a deep connection that transcended words.

Breaking the kiss, your eyes locked, and you confessed, "I love you, and I will never leave you again, no matter the cost."

Chaehyun smiled at her Ow-lie, responding with an adorable pout, "I'm going to hold you to that."

Years later, following the disbandment of Kep1er and your early "retirement," you and your bunny found yourselves on a beach, savoring the sunset and sipping from coconut straws, living your best lives.

"Hey Bunny, where do you think our next adventure should be?" you asked.

Chaehyun smiled, taking another slice of Hawaiian pizza before responding, "Um, how about... France?"

"I love it," you exclaimed.

"But Ow-lie, you love everything I suggest," Chaehyun teased, pouting playfully.

"Okay, and I love you and your ideas, so why wouldn't I love your suggestions? Besides, as long as I'm with you, any place is paradise," you replied tenderly.

Chaehyun smiled. "Okay, Ow-lie, then France it is. But after that, you get to pick."

#kpop fanfic #male reader #kim chaehyun #kep1er chaehyun

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catsrulesworld · 10 months

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Headcanons for Miles(s)

An: I kinda went overboard but that's okay 🤗 I appreciate all the love and kind words on the posts so again can never thank you enough but pls send requests I need to get more ideas anyway enjoys these head canons about these silly gooses

Miles 1610

He sometimes shocks himself when he sneezes

His dad cuts his hair

Hobie pierced his ears

He was a cat person before the whole cat thing during the chase

His love language is physical touch

He's super clingy

Makes tons of drawings of you from every angle in different outfits and everything

He definitely forget he was Spiderman one time and came to your house through your window in his outfit it was a little like this

You:“OH MY GOD ITS SPIDERMAN”

Miles looks around: “NO WAY WHERE”

He doesn't cover his mouth when yawning

Always texts you even if he's swinging around the city

Mi corazón ❤️: Miles are you on the way I'm worried

Spidey boy: I'm almostytgere

Spidey boy: Fivemotemuns

Spidey boy: Mins*

Mi corazón ❤️: Okay love you

Spidey boy: Live you more 🥰

Hobie has tried to teach him a little guitar but Miles gets mad so he doesn't do it

He makes playlists of your favorite songs and plays if he misses you

He used Photomath or Brainly even though he doesn't need it

Science and math is his strong suit but English and social studies aren't

He's good at sports he just doesn't like them

His favorite food his mom makes is Arroz con gandules, Asopao de pollo, and Arroz con dulce

During family BBQs his favorite dance is the cupid shuffle

Only knows how to do a few dances but when he does he's incredible at it

His favorite season is summer because everyone is outside having fun

If you play sports/instruments he's at your concerts or games and if he can't go he drowns you in apologies and kisses

He's overthinker so if you don't respond in the next ten minutes he starts to think the worst

Spidey boy: Hi my love! Do you want to come over soon?

Spidey boy: My love are you okay

Spidey boy: Are you mad at me

Spidey boy: I'm sorry if you are

Spidey boy: Please talk to me

Mi corazón: I'm sorry Miles I was asleep yes I'm fine I'm not mad at you ill come over to your house after school tomorrow make sure you save me some of your mom's food 🤤i love you bb 💋

He's a big family guy so he wants to drag you to every family event that happens

Mama Rio saves you plates if you can't come and if you do she gives you tons and tons of food ( and you have to eat it all it or else)

Remembers all your favorite things meals, flowers, movies, shows, colors etc anything and everything

When he's nervous he bounces his legs or picked at his nails

Helps you pick out outfits

During class, he draws little doodles of you on his paper plus he draws you guys as little stick figures holding hands with hearts and passes it to you

Helps stray animals like cats and dogs he feeds them and pets them

Has a mural for you

If he can't sleep because he missed you he facetimes you so he can sleep

When he does face time you, the call last forever

Loves it when you hold him holding his face while you place kisses all over him, while you draw lines with his freckles

His freckles come out a lot more in the summer because of the sun he has them all over his back

Loves hugs

Likes to walk with you to simple places like the park or to an ice cream place

He's the singer in the spider band

He's tenderheaded so he never has his hair in braids

He has like a million pictures of you

He's a picky eater

Miles 42

He spoils the crap out of you if you even glance at something in the store he's already ready to buy it

Worker: I'm sorry sir but the wine glasses are not for sale

Miles: If she likes the wine glass I'm getting her the wine glass.

Worker: sir why can't you understand these are not for sale

Miles: why can't you understand that I'm getting the glasses

He got the glasses thirty minutes later

He does your hair in whatever braids you want because his mom taught him

He knows how to dance but he only does it with you

His love language is gift giving

He buys matching stuff for you guys necklaces, bracelets, plushies etc

He draws but not super often but when he does it's beautiful

He sometime listens to his dad favorite songs when he misses him

Sees Uncle Aaron as his semi father figure

His favorite game is uno even when Uncle Aaron gets mad and almost punches Miles

Helps his mom cook

His favorite season is winter because he loves the memories it brings of his dad

Lays down flowers and talks to his dads grave

He's a dry texter but he does text you

Knows you better than yourself he can always tell when somethings up

He's a cuddlebug even if he doesn't show it

He loves kisses he doesn't use chapstick but if you're wearing some he’ll kiss it off you

Face times you while he plays his games or is spray painting

Knows all the cool secret abandoned spots

Hates pictures of himself loves them of you tho

He's good at every subject in school

Helps with homework if you need it

Mama Rio loves you because ever since you came into his life he started being more happy after his dads death

Has nightmares of his dads death

He hates the morning

Loves to stargaze with you (knows all constalations)

His favorite food his mom makes is Caldo Santo, Empanadillas, Flan de Queso

Loves all food not picky what so ever

Has a sweet tooth

He passes notes to you in class

He will literally do anything for you

Wears contacts because he hates his glasses

When you date him you get scary dog privileges

Will scare anyone away if they even glance at you but he's a sweetheart deep down

Doesn't know how to explain his emotions

Cats lowkey scare him but he likes them because they're more chill

His favorite gum is Polar Ice

Always completing you

“You look beautiful ma”

“My pretty girl”

“I love that dress on you Mami”

“Estás preciosa”

Loves to go shopping with you

Holds your bags

Helps you pick out clothes

“Miles do you think this looks good on me?”

“Yes mami get that one”

“What about this one? I think it looks a little weird in the back but I don't know”

“Oh lord I'm about to act up”

“Miles!”

His mom loves when you come over for dinner she loves the extra guests

Mama Rio shows embarrassing pictures of him from when he was a baby

“And this is when my beautiful baby got mud on him so he had to take a warm bubble bath with his favorite ducks!”

“Ma, please.”

Your biggest supporter in everything

Okay I can't think of anything else I love them there so silly goose

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feelbokkie · 8 months

Text

Things SKZ does when you're pregnant

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

genre: fluff

pov: 2nd person

description: just cute things skz would do while you are pregnant

pairing: bf!skz x reader with a uterus

warnings: swearing

word count: 1,021 (unedited)

방 찬 (Bang Chan)

Plays Music for Your Bump

he bought one of those headphone sets that you can use to put on baby bumps the second he found out they existed

it's basically a Channie's room (rip Channie's room)

he's prescreening all the songs beforehand though

got to make sure they're baby appropriate

plays a few skz songs

red lights and drive are hard passes

plays a wide variety of music

he's trying to create a musical genius at this point

with his genes, it's very much possible that this might happen

takes the baby's suggestions every seriously

"The baby kicked," "They must really love this song," "Or they hate it," "...Hey, if you like the song, kick. If you hate the song, stay still!" "Chan, don't confuse the child." "Hey, maybe they're a dancer like their uncles."

이 민 호 (Lee Min-Ho)

Making All of the Food You're Craving

yes, even the bat shit insane ones like pickles and peanut butter

he knows that it's 50% his fault that you're hungry and want specific things and that you're doing 100% of the work so the least he could do was make you what you and the parasite baby want to eat

the first time he did it, you were talking to yourself about something you were craving, not thinking he was paying attention

you were debating if you should order it or go out and buy some and take it home

he immediately went into the kitchen and made it without a second thought once he realized that you were probably craving it because of the baby

he came back some time later and just placed the food in your lap

you legit cried

blame the hormones

one time you asked him directly make you something and he jokingly said no

you cried again and he felt so bad that he made it and got your favorite dessert

서 창 빈 (Seo Chang-Bin)

Lifts Your Bump

definitely feels guilty and responsible for you being in this situation

i mean he partly is to blame but you were there too

so he will constantly just come up behind you and lift up your bump to get your back a break

and he'll stay there for a while

and if you two go to the beach for whatever reason, the first thing he's doing is digging a bump shaped hole so you can lay on your stomach comfortably

buys that bump comfort tape and helps you tape your stomach to give you some relief throughout the day while he's out working

did research to make sure he was doing it safely of course, he doesn't want to hurt you or the baby

helps you do some exercises and stretches to ease your pain too

황 현 진 (Hwang Hyun-Jin)

Paints You and Your Bump

the second he found out that you were pregnant, he got several ideas of things to paint on your stomach

started earlier than he probably should have

but when you started getting bigger and more self-conscious, he decided to paint a portrait of you and your bump

and he makes you look like some sort of angel or divine being

you almost don't believe that he painted you

hangs it where he knows you'll see it often

greatly boosts your confidence

will also play on it constantly

"how are my muses doing today?"

also paints a mural in the baby's room in his free time because he can

한 지 성 (Han Ji-Sung)

Tells Your Bump Stories

more specifically, he's giving the baby a detailed play-by-play of whatever show he's currently watching

you bought one of those mics you can attach to your stomach so you could talk to the baby and it is almost always in his hands

"...and their dad is kind of an asshole--you don't have to worry about that, your dad is cool as fuck" "Jisung, language," "if we normalize swearing when they're young, we won't have to worry about them having the mouth of a sailor like Felix. I read it in a book" "...I don't think they mean while the baby is still in the womb,"

reads them them manga too

if he's watching tv and you're sitting next to him, he's pulling out the mic and narrating everything that's on the screen

will sing every once in a while, have to prepare the baby for the rest of their life now so they're not shocked once they're born

이 용 복 (Lee Felix Yong-Bok)

Massages and Foot Rubs

he massages you and gives you foot rubs anyway, especially if you ask for them

but when you told him you were pregnant, one of the first things he did was research how to safely massage you

secretly practiced on the boys so he wouldn't hurt you or the baby until he was confident enough to massage you

still was nervous to actually massage you

rubs your feet more often than the rest of you because it's safer

once you're towards the end of your pregnancy and increasingly uncomfortable from all the added weight you're carrying, he gets over his fears and massages you to give you some relief

Will cuddle you after too while resting his head on your bump

김 승 민 (Kim Seung-Min)

Talking and Singing to Your Bump

this man has been talking to his baby the second he learned that their ears are fully developed

and he's talking to them like a normal person, not baby talk

full conversations too

he'll come home for a long day of work and come tell both of you about his day

often comes and lays his head on your bump and sings to it

just little songs mostly

also sang songs in his JYP voice because why not

whenever you express discomfort, he is lecturing the poor unborn child

"Seungmin, they're not even born yet." "Y/n, please, I am having a private conversation." "Sorry, my bad."

양 정 인 (Yang Jeong-In)

Weekly Progress Shots with Your Bump

mostly, he's having fun taking pictures of how much you're growing each month

every week without fail he is pulling out the camera and harassing you to take the picture

will style you and get props so you can have fun with it

one of the more common props is whatever food item the baby is the same size as

makes a video with all of the pictures and finishes it with the last photo of you holding the baby where the bump was

he's already planning the baby's month photoshoots

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

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buttercupagere · 10 months

Text

design your dream playroom prompts 📐

some questions to think about if you’re designing your dream playroom :)

🖊️ how big is it? small-ish, like a walk-in closet? medium, like a bedroom? large, like a living room? maybe huge, like a castle? be as creative as you want! it doesn’t matter if it’s unrealistic.

🖊️ what color are the walls? are they all the same color? are they lots of different colors? are there any decals on them, or a mural?

🖊️ what’s decorating the walls? framed pictures? mirrors? is there a sensory wall?

🖊️ what does the floor look like? hardwood, tile, carpet, foam playmat? if there’s a rug, is it shag, fluffy, or something else? what color is it? are there sensory tiles?

🖊️ describe the lighting. is it bright or dim? how many light sources are there? can they change color? are there fairy lights? ceiling lights? lamps?

🖊️ are there any windows? how many? how big are they? do they have blinds or curtains? what can you see outside the window?

🖊️ what storage is there? a toy chest? shelves? little bins? folding boxes? is there a ceiling net for stuffies?

🖊️ does the room have any fun features? a sensory swing? a fort? a play kitchen? a dollhouse? a pirate ship? a jungle gym? a mobile? a rocking horse?

🖊️ what kind of toys are there? stuffies, dolls, blocks, racecars, playmobil, fidget toys?

🖊️ is there a table? what does it look like? what do you use it for? slime, arts and crafts, legos, snacks? are there chairs at the table, or mats on the floor?

🖊️ is it a magical playroom? are there talking animals? toys that come to life? fairies that hang around and sprinkle pixie dust? is there a portal to another world? or a crystal ball that can show the future?

if you want, you can draw this playroom. or build it in minecraft, or out of legos. someday maybe it can become real!

#age regression #agere #agere game #playroom #playtime #age regression journal #journal #agere journal

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heresmyhyperfixations · 3 months

Text

Let me be so for real for a minute. I grew up in a homophobic and transphobic household. Now, there’s a lot I could speak on in relation to this time of my life and how even now it’s affects me. But instead I want to share something pertaining to the fandom I have found myself in recently.

Good Omens was on my list of shows to watch since it came out all those years ago. Honestly, I was a Supernatural fan, I yearned for nothing more then a good on screen queer angle lol. Of course I couldn’t not at home. I couldn’t risk it. It was funny, some family members were Michael Sheen fans. That meant watching a lot of things he was in and every time I would be thinking about Good Omens and how much I wanted to be able to see it. But after a while I did kind of forget that it exists. Then I stumbled back onto this lovely little chaotic app. Following a lot of writing based accounts and tags it didn’t take long to come across Neil Gaiman’s account, even though he doesn’t use social media. Seeing him answer asks about GO made me go “Oh! Finally!” And start streaming it immediately.

Of course I fell in love. Growing up being shamed by my family for simply being a little “strange”, plot twist I am just neurodivergent, hurt a little less watching Aziraphale constantly being ridiculed by the other angles for his human tastes. Cause if he is still a good character/person/angel, even if a little “weird”, that means I can be good too. Watching Crowley get cast away for asking questions was relatable as well. But guess what? If he can go off and make a life for himself with his love and independence then so can I. Does this mean Aziraphale and Crowley don’t have a ton of healing and growth still to do? Absolutely not. But I am sure they will get through it, and so will I.

Now here’s where it gets a little tricky, figuring out how to express how much the fandom means to me. Hearing other stories, headcannons, and character analysis makes me feel less alone for starters. But even on a less dramatic note, it just so nice to be able to revel in our mural love for this show! After all these years of wanting to watch I finally get to join in on the fun! And I am so so so grateful for that. I love it here.

P.s. as someone still coming to terms with my gender identity, seeing David be so vocal about his support of trans rights and wearing his little non-binary pride pin has made me feel so much better.

#aziraphale #crowley #az fell and co #aziracrow #good omens #michael sheen #david tennant #personal #my story #love this fandom #sage rambles

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psychedelic-ink · 11 months

Text

𝐇𝐈, 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, secret relationship

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 8k

chapter summary: Joel takes you on your first date. A barbecue meant to be fun becomes a minefield of unpleasant memories for Tommy.

warnings: mutual masturbation, piv, dirty talking, light spit play, PTSD, war flashbacks, angst towards the end

a/n: yup, you're seeing correct, I uploaded a day early!! woooo

Chapter Ten || Chapter Twelve

When Joel mentioned taking you out for a date, you couldn't help but imagine something simple and unassuming, just like him. You envisioned a quaint, unpretentious restaurant where you could share intimate conversation, followed by a leisurely stroll back home. You knew Joel wasn't exactly an innovative man; however, his wood carving skills, took you by surprise when he showed you some of his artwork, it made your heart grow fonder for him. As much as he poked fun at himself for not understanding art, or knowing much of it, he was an artist.

In the end, you weren't expecting anything extravagant, and you had no complaints about it. That was a part of his Texan charm. It was who he was, and you loved him for it.

What you didn't expect was to take a thirty to forty-minute drive to South Congress.

“You didn't have to go through all this trouble,” you say as Joel opens the truck door for you. Smiling, he rolls his eye. He offers you his hand, and with a skip in your heart, you accept it, feeling the heat of his palm. Joel steadies you as you hop down from the vehicle. Sarah was at another sleepover, carefully orchestrated by Joel, making it the perfect time for him to take you on the first date he mentioned a couple of days ago.

“It’s no trouble,” he answers, moving his jaw. “But if you keep sayin’ that I’m gonna start thinkin’ you’re not a fan of the idea.”

“Oh, I’m definitely a fan. No need to worry your pretty head about that.”

Before taking the first step, he holds your arm and tugs you back toward him. Your eyes widen when he throws your jacket over your shoulders, “‘Might get cold,” he murmurs, fingers skimming down your bare arms. Then he sighs. “I love it when you call me pretty. Makes me all tingly inside.”

“Well then,” you smile, leaning closer. “Let me say it again, you’re pretty. Prettiest man I know.”

Joel's lips curl into a wide grin, his humming filling the air. “I’m blushin’,” he teases, capturing your lips in a swift, lingering kiss, lacing his fingers with yours. “I knew this would be a good idea,” he mutters against your lips in a self-congratulatory tone. His taste lingers on your mouth, leaving you craving more.

“I don’t want to burst your bubble but I’m still not sure what we’re doing here. You never told me.”

Hand in hand, you and Joel set off, walking down the street at a leisurely pace. The sun, beginning its descent from the vast expanse of blue skies, painted the world in a soft, golden hue.

“We’re here to look at the murals,” he explains. “Thought you might like it, bein’ an artist and all. And if we get hungry there’s this Tex-Mex place I like to go to, I take Sarah there all the time.”

He's nonchalant about it, yet he still averts his eyes. A soft crimson flares under his shirt, creeping up his neck and tinting his cheeks. Your heart beats quickly. You may now be a part of his life, but Sarah will always hold a tender place in his heart. Something he hesitates to share, like a tiny box of secrets. She's his everything. You wonder how many times he had to keep that part of himself hidden, how many times he mentioned his daughter and saw the hesitation in the other party's eyes. It's no one's fault, really. It's a complicated situation no matter which side you consider. And you're fairly certain he's never mentioned his romantic endeavors to Sarah. Why would he? To him, none of it ever led anywhere, so there was no sense in telling her about it.

You don't want him to be nervous about sharing more about that part of his life. You have adored Sarah ever since you met her. Now, you're somewhat grateful that it took the two of you longer than normal to get here. It gave you a chance to show him that no matter the state of your relationship, you'll be there for Sarah, for Tommy, and for everyone he cares about.

Because you care about them too.

“You visit here a lot?”

He tips his chin, “We used to,” he answers and offers you his arm, you thread the gap between torso and tricep. “When she was five we came here a lot. Really liked it.”

A half chuckle, half exhale leaves his lips. You give him a sympathetic look. “Well, maybe we can come here together one day. Tommy too. We can make a day of it, I bet she misses it.”

"Yeah," his eyes glaze over for a second, looking ahead towards the sun-kissed street. You softly dig your nails into his arm, snapping him out of it. He blinks and tenses under your touch. "Yeah, we definitely should. Maybe during spring break or somethin’."

You squeeze his arm again, and when he turns to look at you, you smile. He returns it in kind, and you feel his smile leave an imprint on your skin as his lips touch your forehead.

“Can’t wait to show you all of it, sweet tea.”

And he does.

Joel shows you everything that he loves. The streets of Austin come alive with vibrant murals, each one captivating in its own way—some simple, some complicated. You see the South Congress Mural on South Congress Avenue that stands tall, its graffiti letters painted in vibrant colors, depicting the cityscape. The italicized phrase 'I Love You So Much,' spray-painted by Amy Cook for her partner Liz Lambert—Joel doesn't say much here. He stares at it for a while before gripping your hand tighter. Suddenly, he tugs your arm, pressing his lips firmly against yours, sucking the air from your lungs. Here, you take a quick coffee break and continue on.

There are so many. Your eyes catch sight of a mural depicting a piece of toast and yellow butter, lovingly painted on a vibrant blue wall, inside the piece of butter and toast it says “you’re my butter half”. You laugh and nudge Joel in the ribs and repeat the words to him. His smile is the widest you’ve ever seen.

Joel introduces you to Jeremiah the Innocent. A smiling cartoonish frog, on top of it you read HI, HOW ARE YOU. He then told you that Jeremiah had another name as well— Ron. Named by, of course, Sarah. Leaning closer, you tell Joel that you agree, the frog looks much more like a Ron rather than a Jeremiah.

After that Joel, a keeper of his word, takes you to a small Tex-Mex place. He orders chips and queso as an appetizer, followed up by two cold beers and tacos.

"I think you might have killed me," you say, rubbing your stomach and leaning back as the cold metal of the chair bites into your skin.

Joel cocks an eyebrow, a small smile touching the corner of his lips. “So. . .no dessert?”

“Don’t joke,” you answer seriously. “I always have room for dessert.”

He laughs, “You sound like Sarah,” just as you begin to smile, he adds. “And Tommy actually. That man has an endless pit instead of a stomach.”

“Tell me about it.” you grin.

The sun begins to disappear, shades of light blue fading into something darker that lingers in the sky. It reminds you of the times when you angrily slap your widest brush on top of the canvas and just move it around without any aim or goal. The string lights come to life. Joel looks gorgeous under the soft glow; it's almost dreamlike. If you were to reach out, you're not entirely sure that he wouldn't fade away.

His hand finds yours over the table, lacing your fingers together. A stuttering, silent breath escapes your lips. The effects of alcohol buzz both in your veins and mind. His thumb traces your knuckles, a gesture so familiar yet foreign at the same time. With a smile, you bring the back of his hand to your lips before he does. You tenderly kiss him, feeling the softness of lips moving over the mountains and valleys of his hand. His breath hitches, and your ears feel warm.

"Should we head back?" he murmurs, his voice dipping into something darker. His thumb finds purchase on your lower lip and tugs on it, eliciting a soft gasp. "I think I'm gettin’ hungry again."

You kiss the pad of his thumb as he cups your cheek, and you nuzzle into the width of his palm. Wetness gathers between your legs, heat building at the base of your spine. You can't wait for him to devour you.

Joel’s fingers trace the spine of the book that lays idly on your bedside table. He adorns a soft smile, gaze curious as he picks it up.

“I’ll be right back,” you say, turning your back as he begins to flip through the pages. “I’m going to freshen up a bit, make yourself comfortable.”

With that, you exit the bedroom and head to the bathroom. You're feeling positively tingly. The ache in your bones would normally entice you to go to bed early, but sleep is the last thing on your mind right now. All you want is for that man to ravage you. During the drive back, the only thing on your mind was his lips, his hands, his cock—his weight on your body.

You quickly splash cold water onto your face, sighing as the cool numbness replaces the sticky sweat from the day. After brushing your teeth, you head back.

You smile when you see Joel sitting at the edge of the bed, book still in hand.

He’s looking at something.

You raise an eyebrow, taking a step closer. There’s something in his hand, something smaller and vaguely familiar.

Shit.

Shit shit shit shit.

“Joel?” Your voice barely manages a whisper, you're surprised he hears your pleading call of his name. He flinches, shoulders raising all the way to his ears. You clear your throat. “What. . . What are you looking at?”

You already know the answer.

"How long have you had this?" he asks, every word sounding dull. He twists his body enough to face you, holding the small Polaroid picture between his fingers— oh god, you're screwed, aren't you?

"I-I can explain," you blurt out, increasing your steps' speed. You stand in front of him, the picture's glossy surface reflecting the light into your eyes. "You forgot your magazine, and when I opened it to read it, the... the picture just fell out, I swear! I know I should've told you, gave it back, but, well, I—"

Unable to keep your eyes open due to the constant spinning of the world around you, you close them. His gaze remains fixed on you, half moons hidden beneath bushy eyebrows. Embarrassment surges through you, heating you from the inside out. In a fit of desperation, you cover your face with both palms, sighing into them. "Fuck, I'm so sorry," you mutter, your voice muffled by your hands.

Joel stares at you, dumbfounded. With shaky legs, he stands and gently cups your wrists, tugging your hand away from your face. You refuse to meet his gaze, your eyes glued to a spot on his neck. You miss how wide his eyes are, how his gaze grows soft as he stares.

“Why are you sorry?” he whispers. “I think you misunderstood, sunshine. I ain’t mad. I’m embarrassed.”

“What?” you furrow your brows, lifting your gaze. “Why?”

He smiles, “Lots of why’s goin’ around,” you continue to stare and he clicks his tongue. “It’s a half-naked picture of me. A picture that I took, you can’t blame me for gettin’ flustered.”

“You look good.”

“Thanks,” he scoffs with a raised eyebrow. “Well, I guess it’s better that you found it instead of. . . Tommy or worse.”

You know what worse means. He’s right, he was lucky it had been you.

“I’m just glad you’re not mad.”

“Me, mad at you?” he shakes his head, looking appalled by the thought. “Never.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

His hands drop to your waist. Fingers roughened with work digging into your flesh. The excitement you felt comes rushing back, flooding your veins. Joel pins your hips together, the growing outline of his cock brushing your clothed mound. You gasp and he inches impossibly close, lips brushing your ear. “Why did you have it in your little book over there?” he drawls, his voice thick. “Did you touch yourself lookin’ at it, sweetheart?”

Your voice shakes and you can barely get a word out. You swallow, shaking your head.

“Don’t lie,” he hums. The drag of his lips down your neck turns your insides into mush. “Can I see?”

“See what?”

A moment of silence follows. You take this time to unbutton his jeans and slip a hand underneath the dense fabric. You cup his length, and it hardens in your palm, growing in size. Your breath hitches as his hips move forward, chasing the grip of your fingers. Taking a deep inhale, you breathe him in, filling yourself with his scent.

“I wanna watch,” his voice cracks. “See how you touched yourself while thinkin’ of me.”

Your breath hitches, “And what will you be doing?”

You stroke him slowly, the pad of your thumb moving over the slit before moving down again. You shiver at the feeling of his hot breath against your skin.

“I’ll be watchin’, sweetheart. Engraving your spread-out cunt into memory.”

“Jesus, Joel,” you breathe heavily, your pulse loudly thrumming in your veins. Joel is absolutely filthy—something you never thought you’d be thinking. He tugs you towards the bed. With every step, another garment falls to the floor. You’re shivering all over, body cold yet warm at the same time. The expectation crackling in the air pricks at your skin.

What is this? It never felt like this before. A need so desperate. A want so large. In this moment you’re convinced that you and Joel were always meant to be as pretentious that might sound. You have no idea how else to explain it. Every time you’re with him, even in the most peaceful moments, you feel an impending. . . something. You’re not sure what it is yet but you know it’s a wicked, dark feeling. A dystopian surrealism. The works of Zdzisław Beksiński; death, destruction, shattered worlds. . . yet still beautiful. You love those paintings. Just like Joel, it leaves you uneasy and mystified.

The air is knocked from your lungs as your back hits the bedrest, your naked legs falling open like a butterflys’ wings. You wait for a touch that never comes. Joel drags the chair and takes a seat. He pulls out his hefty length, fingers loosely curling around it. You hold your breath.

“Don’t keep me waitin’ now,” he rasps as he touches himself lazily. “Show me.”

Your eyes never leave him, and you slowly circle your clit with two fingers. An immediate sense of relaxation and soft pleasure blossom over different patches of skin. You pinch the sensitive bundle of nerves and continue moving your fingers around. You arch your hips, wetness growing with every stroke. Your insides clench. Joel’s heavy breathing fills the room, your own breathing coming out in short pants.

“Spread yourself darlin’,” his voice lowers, making your stomach turn. With two fingers you show him, spreading yourself s while you circle the middle one around your clit. A soft whimper of his name echoes from the back of your throat. It’s different like this. Knowing that he’s right there, staring, observing your every move. It lits a fire between your legs. A feeling so raw and open.

Your ache swells inside of you like wildfire. You keen at the slick sounds of Joel’s fist accompanying your own lewd sounds. The rest of the world falls silent, your mind a complete blank, your sole focus on the man that makes you feel soft and tender.

A build-up to an orgasm can be a strange thing. Sometimes you don’t think of anything or anyone, just focused on your fingers and the fire between your legs. Other times your imagination becomes so vivid that you swear there’s a cock splitting you open. Your stomach clenches, muscles rippling under the faux feeling of someone being there with you. And, technically, there is someone with you but not in the typical sense. Your back lifts from the mattress, your feet sliding down the soft sheets as your fingers move frantically. You can feel it hardening, throbbing under your ministrations.

“That’s it,” Joel groans, the bed dips, you’re too far gone to notice he stopped jerking off and is inching closer for a better look. “Come for me, darlin’. Let’s see how you make a mess.”

Your ears ring

Your lips part so wide that the corners are aflame

Your throat constricts a silent plea

Your fingers twitch, insides pulsing as you gush and make a mess—just like he wanted.

You love doing what he asks of you.

You feel it trickling down the inside of your thighs, the curve of your ass. It’s too much. Whimpers rattling your chest, your throat sore. Joel mutters praise, telling you how good you are, how perfect. Another soft lingering orgasm warms you from the inside out, more drops of pure ecstasy spilling over.

He trails his hand up the inside your thigh, slick gathering at the tips of his fingers. A soft gasp leaves your lips as you clench around nothing, “Next time I’m bringin’ the camera over.” you give him a look and he chuckles. “It’s only fair, don’t ya think?”

“I don’t think that picture will be sexy as you think,” you answer, smiling.

He frowns, his look almost glaring as he stares into your eyes, “Bulshit. You’re gorgeous. It’ll be like havin’. . . the . . . Mona Lisa in my pocket,” he says, slightly unsure.

"I do appreciate you using art references whenever you talk to me; it's like a gimmick," you grin and wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him closer. "Hey, if you want a picture, you can have one. Just promise not to leave it lying around like you did with your own. I don't need any more embarrassing moments in my life."

“We all have embarrassing moments.”

“That doesn’t sound like a promise,” you answer with a playful lilt. He rolls his eyes, a hand sneaking down between your bodies, he aligns himself with your sopping sex, cock filling you slowly, inch by inch. Your eyelids flutter, a moan ripping from you.

Fully inside you, he murmurs into your mouth, “I’ll guard it with my life. Promise.”

His words fall on deaf ears. Your vision blurs at the stretch of his cock, drawing his hips back, only the bulbous head remains. He watches you. Watches your fluttering cunt adjust to the size, then, just as you’re about to say something, he slams into you. Electricity crackles over your skin, a sensation that makes you feel numb. Joel buries his head into your neck, kissing and nipping the sensitive skin as he sets a brutal pace. His strokes are slow and hard. Every ridge felt as he massages the insides of your cunt. It’s exhilarating. Breathtaking. So much so that you think you’re crying a little, soft salty tears gathering in your eyes.

“You wanna know something?” he groans, fucking deeper into you. “I thought of you while takin’ the picture. Thought about this perfect cunt.”

He holds your thighs with a heavy hold, pushing both legs up until your knees are grazing your forehead. You don’t think being a pretzel ever felt so good. Joel jackhammers into you, the wet glide of his cock leaves you breathless. Between narrowed eyes you watch him; his brows furrowed with concentration, lips slightly ajar, pink tongue poking out. He’s flushed. The soft tint of red looks good on him. You desperately want to bury your lips into his neck and lick the vein that meanders down, you want to sink your teeth into it.

In a quick glimpse, his eyes briefly catch yours. The muscle in his jaw moves and he licks his lips, the color in his irises gone, eaten away by lust. You notice him pursing his lips and your eyes go wide, a thin line of saliva drips from his mouth, adding to the mess between your thighs. Your breath falters, you squeez him tight. His hips stutter but he’s not phased by the sudden tightness.

“Touch yourself,” he commands, voice hoarse. “I wanna feel you comin’ around my cock.”

You moan at how soaked you are, your fingers playing with the mixture of spit and slick. It doesn’t take you long. A couple swipes of your fingers and you’re seeing stars. Your orgasm sears you from the inside out, your entire body tensing at the force of his thrusts. With a knee-jerk reaction, you grip the back of your thigh, nails biting into your skin. He pushes your hand away, thumb soothingly going over the crescent-shaped marks.

His unwavering gaze aggravates you. A sudden shame rolling in your stomach, he bats the thoughts away by allowing your legs to fall and frame his broad waist. Suddenly his lips are on your own, sucking your tongue into his mouth, swallowing the moans. He tastes your hesitations, your fears, your unsaid love for him—all of it, from a single, hungry, messy kiss.

Joel’s hips slow down into a delicious grind, the coarse hairs that crown his cock doused, you feel the brush of his pelvis on the pearl that beats. Your insides flutter one last time before he’s pulling out, spilling over the soft flesh of your stomach.

“Fuck,” he moans into your open mouth. You shudder at the trickle of seed on your skin. “That was amazin’ sweetheart. You always feel so fuckin’ good. ‘Can’t wrap my head around it.”

You giggle, “I hope you know the feeling is mutual, neighbor,” you feel the wet drag of his lips down your cheek. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good before.”

“You’re just sayin’ that,” he tuts, breath fanning your neck.

“Do I need to remind you how we ended up in this bed?” you tease. “You, finding a picture of yourself that I masturbated to? If that doesn’t convince you I don’t know what will.”

He thinks about it for a second then shrugs, “Fair.”

“By the way thank you for. . . everything. I had a great time Joel,” you thread your fingers through his mussed hair and he lays his head on your chest. His hand gently cups the underside of your breast, a possessive gesture. You feel the scrape of his beard as he speaks.

“I didn’t do nothin’ special. You deserve more.”

Your heart clenches the ache of his self-deprecation a reflection of his inability to perceive his own worth. “Stop selling yourself short—”

He cuts you off, “You deserve to have a relationship you don’t need to hide. It’s not fair.”

Your heart splinters, torn between the desire to protect what you have and the yearning to be truthful to those that you love. When your silence grows, Joel look up to you, his eyes wide like full moons. And just as somber. Your lips crack in a smile.

“It’s okay,” you whisper. “We’ll tell him eventually. When we’re ready, right?”

He swallows, throat moving. “Yeah,” he answers, gaze breaking away from yours. “We will. When we’re ready.”

Neither of you are brave enough to ask when that might be.

The sun beats down on Tommy’s skin and with the back of his hand, he wipes away the sweat on his forehead. Next to the grill is always the hottest. It’s a beautiful day out, birds chirping, sun shining and whenever a cloud passes by, adding a bit of color to the boring blue sky, Tommy sighs in relief, enjoying the fleeting coolness of the passing shadow.

Joel is at the grill, and from the corner of his eye, Tommy sees him turning the ribs and chicken wings. A loud sizzle fills the air, and with a hiss, Joel backs away, cursing as a searing drop of fat lands on his tanned skin. In typical younger sibling fashion, Tommy laughs, earning an equally heated glare from his older brother. Neither of them says a word. Joel returns his gaze to the meats, while Tommy shifts his eyes back to the large bowl he's holding. It contains a mixture of a generous amount of barbecue sauce, olive oil, Worcestershire sauce, minced garlic, smoked paprika, cayenne pepper, salt, and black pepper. He gives them another vigorous stir before adding the stemless button mushrooms. He tosses them all together until each one is evenly coated.

A bead of sweat rolls down his face, “Joel, I know you have this sense of always wantin’ to be right but I doubt our recipe is gonna be the one to change her mind about mushrooms.”

“It will,” he grunts, shirt dipping and sticking between his shoulder blades. “If she doesn’t, more for us.”

“Well, I guess that’s one way to look at it.”

Joel doesn’t answer and Tommy doesn’t bother to force a conversation. The silence he shares with his brother has always been a comfortable one, but lately, that hasn’t quite been the case. There’s this wall that he can’t seem to breach no matter what he does or says. And ever since Joel broke up with Asha, it only got worse. He can’t shake the sense that whatever his older brother had in mind, it must be about you. It has to be.

Tommy’s feelings for you haven’t exactly disappeared. As much as he wished he had a button to turn it all off, he can’t, but he was telling the truth when he said he didn’t mind staying friends. What he feels for you is more than that. He enjoys your company, your jokes, your thoughts. He can’t imagine living out the rest of his life without it.

However, he's not stupid, contrary to what many people might believe.

Tommy has noticed the stares, the weird tension in his brother’s shoulders whenever you’re around. Hell, if Joel has feelings for you he should just own up to it, talk about it. All Tommy wants is for Joel to come and talk to him. However, when it comes to romance, Joel rarely does. Even after the breakup with Asha, Joel barely said a word. Tommy later on learned the details from Asha and it fucking stung.

Ever since they were little, Joel had this tendency to shoulder everything, it didn’t matter if the issue was big or small, he would carry it, and he would do so in silence. Tommy hated that. He wanted to talk about things, wanted to tell Joel about his nightmares, the blank notebook that Tommy can’t bring himself to write into—he desperately wants things to change. He wants Joel to stop playing the martyr. Tommy’s not a kid anymore, they can carry the weight together.

“Gosh that smells delicious!”

Tommy jerks at the sound of your voice. Startled, he looks up and sees you making your way through Joel’s yard, carrying a Tupperware full of coleslaw and a pitcher of homemade iced tea. You place both items on the wooden table and walk toward the brothers. Just as you pass by Joel, your hand brushes his shoulder. Again, Tommy sees him visibly tense with the contact.

You turn to Tommy, arms spread wide, a joyous grin stretched across your face. Tommy mimics the expression, pulling up a different kind of mask. He pulls you into a tight embrace and presses his lips ointo your forehead.

"Oh, are those the mushrooms?" you ask, still held within Tommy's arms, your gaze lowered to the small table Joel brought out for food prep. "I'm both terrified and excited."

“I hope you’ll like’em,” Tommy answers. “Joel is convinced that you will.”

You laugh and mouth at Tommy, "Do you think he'll explode if he turns out to be wrong?" Tommy can barely hide the snicker that escapes his lips.

“I heard that,” Joel grunts without looking.

You expertly move the conversation along, “Where’s Sarah?”

"She should be here soon," he responds. "She mentioned wanting to buy some lemon bars for the barbecue."

“Where is she buying them from? Olivia is going to come over too so she can pick Sarah up.”

After discussing locations and making a quick phone call, Olivia happily agrees to pick up Sarah because, according to you, she's not that far away anyway. You help Tommy skewer the barbecue mushrooms, and conversation flows seamlessly. Even Joel gradually loosens up, relaxing as he starts to place the prepared skewers. You appear surprisingly cheerful, and Tommy doesn't mean to imply that you were ever a downer—rather, he hasn't seen you this relaxed in a long time. It seems the grief that had molded you months ago, forcing you to behave a certain way, had loosened around you. Now you see what he’s seen all along; that you deserved to make jokes and have fun and be happy.

He likes to think he had a part to play in that with the renovation of the room.

In the midst of finishing up the mushrooms, a car stops, and a moment later, Olivia and Sarah hop out.

Sarah wastes no time wrapping her nimble arms around Tommy's neck, giving him a tight hug. Tommy returns the gesture in kind, lifting her off the ground a little. "Hey, sugarcube! How was school?"

"Boring," she answers, letting go. "How was work?"

Tommy scrunches up his nose, prompting a bubble of laughter from her. "Boring," he parrots.

While Sarah heads inside to change, Olivia places the lemon bars on the table and comes to greet you. The sizzle of the grill fills the air as Sarah's voice cuts through the lively atmosphere, calling out to Joel from the window of the house. "Dad, I can't find my purple shirt!" she exclaims. “You said you’d have it washed today!”

Joel turns his attention away from the grill, a concerned furrow forming on his brow. "I'll be right there, sweetheart," he assures her. He looks over at Olivia. "Liv, can you man the grill for a moment?"

Olivia nods, a playful smile dancing on her lips. "Consider it done. You go find that shirt."

With a grateful nod, Joel moves swiftly toward the house, leaving Olivia to handle the grilling duties. He passes by Tommy and you, giving a brief smile and a nod of acknowledgment before disappearing inside.

Tommy's gaze follows Olivia as she confidently takes charge of the grill, her tongs expertly flipping the remaining skewers and wings. There's a sense of ease in her movements, a natural grace that Tommy finds captivating. Her focused expression softens with a slight smile.

Meanwhile, Tommy takes a moment to observe you as you retrieve a couple of cold beers from the cooler. The sunlight catches in your hair, casting a warm glow around you.

You approach him with the beers in hand, Tommy can't help but be captivated by your infectious smile. It's a smile that reaches your eyes, radiating happiness and a genuine warmth that draws him in. He takes one of the beers from you, his fingers grazing against yours for a brief moment, sending a jolt of electricity through his veins.

"Cheers," you say, raising your bottle in a toast. Tommy mirrors your action, their bottles clinking together, the sound ringing in the air.

"Cheers," he replies, his voice laced with genuine affection. The clinking of the bottles marks a moment of connection, a shared bond that goes beyond mere friendship.

“Isn’t it interesting?” Olivia suddenly says, snapping your attention from Tommy to her. He frowns.

“What is?” you ask.

“That I’m here. . . doing all the work without a beer in my hand.”

You roll your eyes, walking back to the cooler, “You could’ve just asked you know?” you tease, handing her a cold bottle. She shrugs with a wink.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Tommy smells smoke. The crackling of flames too loud. Their banter fades into the background. His body grows tense by instinct, feeling the threat of danger that isn’t there. He becomes uncharacteristically still, listening, but not hearing anything.

“Ah shit, I burnt it,” Olivia hisses, fanning the smoke with a moisturized hand. “Well, at least I only burned three of them. You guys think Joel will kill me?”

He hears bits of the conversation, your laughter following Olivia’s words. The smoke in the air is thicker now, grayer. Sweat sticks to his skin and Tommy swears he feels the familiar feeling of hot dirt on his skin. Unaware, he starts rubbing his arms, trying to get rid of the sticky feeling.

Tommy smells gunpowder.

He hears bullets whizzing through the air.

Just as the grill suddenly flares up, a searing pain jolts through Tommy's body. In his disoriented state, he misconstrues your touch on his back as a threat. Reacting instinctively, he moves away, his mind clouded. His hand inadvertently catches your wrist, twisting the limb. You let out a shout.

A surge of guilt pierces Tommy's heart as he realizes that it’s you. His eyes widen with a mixture of fear and remorse, and he releases his grip on your wrist, his hands trembling. "Fuck, sorry—" he stammers, choked up. "I. . . I thought. . ."

Before he can finish his sentence, he sees Joel above your shoulder, his face etched with concern, closely followed by Sarah.

"What happened?" Joel demands.

You step in before Tommy can explain, his chest heaves, “Nothing, I just startled him.”

Joel doesn’t seem to buy it, his gaze fixed on his baby brother, he raises an eyebrow. “Tommy?” he asks again, his voice leveled.

Tommy's gaze shifts from you to Joel and Sarah. He struggles to find the right words, his mind still tangled in a web. He doesn’t say a word, just shakes his head. Joel’s gaze softens, hands coming up to cup Tommy’s cheeks. He lifts his brother’s gaze to face his own.

"It's okay, Tommy. We're here. We're safe, you’re home," when Tommy attempts to back away, Joel holds him tighter. "Let's just take a moment to breathe."

Tommy’s mind blanks for a second when Joel visibly takes a deep, slow breath. Joel looks at him with a sign of expectation and the younger Miller mimics the way he breathes. Deep and slow. One, two, three. Once more, and that’s it. He’s breathing again. The sky is blue again.

“Shiiiit,” he exhales on the last breath. Joel drops his hands and takes a step back, you’re standing right next to him, brows drawn together. Suddenly the guilt is back. “I’m sorry,” he says the apology muffled by clenched teeth. “Are you. . . okay?”

“I’m fine,” you say hovering back and forth, wanting to come closer but also not wanting to overwhelm him. “Do you need anything?”

“I should be asking you that,” he takes a step closer, taking your wrist between his fingers. He gently smooths his thumb over where he bent—god, he’s a fucking mess. “We should put some ice on that.”

“I got it!” Olivia jumps out, placing the end of the cold bottle on your wrist. You stifle a snort. She narrows her eyes at you. “That’s a weird way to say thank you.”

You roll your eyes, “Thanks, Liv.”

Tommy pulls away and takes a seat. Content in having calmed his brother, Joel returns to the grill and gives Olivia a look that screams, "What the hell have you done?!"

He smiles, feeling his racing heart finally begin to calm down.

“Are you sure you’re alright uncle Tommy?”

His eyes meet Sarah’s, two concerned and observant juvenile eyes staring into his own. He’s not sure what to say—no, he knows what to say, he just doesn’t know how to say it in a way that she’ll believe him.

Without waiting for a response, Sarah sits next to him and reaches for two glasses and the pitcher. She pours iced tea into both. “Here,” she says, prompting him to replace the beer with the glass. Tommy obliges.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” he murmurs. “That ain’t your responsibility.”

“It’s not. . . but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t worry. And I know you can’t talk to me about it, I’m not dad, but you know I love you, right?”

“‘Course I do,” Tommy answers quickly, ignoring the way the sun stings his eyes, he forces them to stay open. “Your dad takes good care of me. And I know you care, I appreciate the reminder though,” he lets out a sigh, drags a heavy palm down his face, and swallows. “I’m gonna get better.” I have to get better.

Sarah doesn’t say another word. She slowly drops her head to his shoulder, looks over to her father who’s in the middle of placing three mushroom skewers on your plate. Tommy smiles.

“They’re idiots,” she murmurs, he doesn’t miss the affectionate cadence in her tone.

“Yeah,” Tommy answers. “But they’re our idiots.”

The rest of the evening went off without a hitch. However, your love for mushrooms still remained nonexistent, much to Joel's surprise. He was shocked to see that his and Tommy's barbecue mushrooms hadn't managed to convert you into an avid mushroom lover. In an attempt to mask the lingering taste, you nearly downed the entire pitcher of iced tea—making sure Joel wasn't looking, of course. He was still quite salty about not liking them. He even went far as to pout about it, which you found adorable if you’re being completely honest. You're not sure his ego could handle the thought of you desperately wanting to scrub your tongue with a sponge.

Olivia was the first one to leave as the scorching sun was replaced by shiny stars, and you helped with cleaning up. You noticed that Tommy was avoiding your gaze like the plague, and Joel remained silent about what had happened. Your wrist, although not physically hurting, still ached. You had promised him that you would be there for him, but you felt like you had failed miserably. You had no knowledge of what was going on in his head, and if today was any indication, there was a lot happening.

When he’s about to bid his farewells, you touch his forearm. It’s such a small gesture but he flinches anyway and you quickly withdraw your hand. You chew the inside of your cheek.

“Do you want to come over?” you ask, swallowing. “I have some leftover wine.”

It doesn’t take him long to answer but the seconds that pass feel like an eternity. He nods and gestures to the door.

“I’ll be waitin’ outside, go get your things.”

“Y-Yeah, sure. I’ll be there in a sec.”

He closes the door softly behind him. A click that is barely audible. You hear footsteps and turn to see Joel exiting the kitchen. “Everythin’ good?” he asks.

“I think so, I invited Tommy over. I think it’ll be good to talk.”

You see it in his eyes, the need to hold you, to cradle your cheeks and brush your lips together. The internal fight is visible from his expression. You figure which side wins when he remains still, staring, eyes flitting between you and the windows near the door. Tommy’s smoking a cigarette with his back turned.

“I think so too,” he says, dropping his gaze to the floor. “He’s been more closed off lately and my usual grumpy self probably ain’t helpin’.”

“I applaud you for admitting that you are, in fact, grumpy.”

He tries to hide it but can’t, a small smile peeking from under his mustache. “Shut up.”

“I really wanna say make me,” you grin and pick up your bag. “But I don’t think we have time for that.”

“I’ll remember, don’t worry.”

You ignore the way your legs press together at the sudden drop in his tone. The chill of the doorknob sends shivers down your spine. You’re afraid of being alone with Tommy. You’re scared that you’re going to blurt everything, all of it. You miss being able to talk to him—Tommy definitely wasn’t a stranger to the rants about the many failed romances in your life. With a sigh, you crack the door open. You hear a shift behind you. . . then a gentle hand on your waist.

A kiss on the back of your neck.

“Call me if you need anythin’.”

“I will.”

You finally step into the warm night. Tommy turns to you, exhaling smoke from his nostrils. The knot in your throat makes it hard to breathe, the younger Miller looks over your shoulder.

“See ya later old timer,” he calls out to Joel. You don’t hear him answer but you’re sure he’s rolling his eyes, the click of the door follows. Cigarette loose between his lips, Tommy offers you his arm and you take it.

The walk to your home is a silent one.

Your house is ominous in the dark, quickly, you flick the lights open. “Make yourself comfortable.”

“I always do,” he murmurs and takes off his shoes. “Would it be alright if we skip the wine? I’m not really feelin’ up for it.”

“Of course,” you answer. “Do you want anything else?”

“Nah. Let’s just talk.”

The request takes you by surprise. You blink dumbly at the back of his head, and when the silence fills the space between you, he turns. He stares at you for a moment, gauging what your reaction means. His brows come together, a humorful smile tugging at one corner of his lips.

“Why do you look so shocked? That’s why you invited me over right? To talk.”

“I. . . Yeah, exactly.”

He heads to the living room and you follow his trail like a lost duckling. “Before you say anythin’,” he says, lifting a hand as you take a seat next to him. “Let me apologize. I didn’t mean. . . I would never hurt you. Today was an accident, I got lost.”

Lost. . . that was exactly what it was, wasn’t it?

“It’s okay, it was my mistake really. I shouldn’t have touched you when you were so out of it. Can I. . . Can I ask what you were thinking about?”

His shoulders raise, his breathing becomes shallow, “I think it was because of the smoke. I was right there, at the battlefield, again. Fuck. I didn’t know.”

You wait for him to continue.

“There ain’t much out there you know? Just you and a couple of brothers you made along the way. When you see them fall, it’s hard to erase the memory of it.”

“No one is expecting you to erase it,” you whisper, your hand hovers above his knee and when he nods, you place itover the curve. “As hard as it is, that’s a part of you. No one blames you for today. No one is mad at you. We just want you to be okay—I want you to be okay.”

“I know,” he murmurs. “I’m workin’ on it. I just hate talkin’ about it so much. I tried. . .I tried to be the hero you know? I tried so hard to make a difference. It didn’t mean nothin’ and when you realize the person you’re gunnin’ down is just as lost as you are, you realize there are no heroes in the battlefield.” a sudden chuckle bursts from his lips, compeltly void, he covers his face with a palm. “But I’m still so stupid. I still want to believe some difference can be made. I want to be good so fuckin’ bad and I don’t know why. I should be happy just doin’ my own thing like Joel but I’m not.”

His words sink into your skin, blend with the blood in your veins, and suffocate your lungs. You want to cry. He sounds so broken, so hopeless. The need to hold him makes your knees tremble. You imagine an eighteen-year-old Tommy, signing up with the army with a hopeful gaze. You’ve heard the stories, remember Joel telling you the arguments that followed after that. Tommy hadn’t backed down, adamant about proving his brother wrong. The stubborn nature of it reminds you of your own brother, the endless arguments that would go on and on and on with your grandfather.

The army takes their hopes and dreams and spits them out broken and strange.

“You’re not stupid, Tommy,” you mutter, barely audible. “We all want to be good. There’s no shame in that. I’m. . .similar, I always want to do the right thing. I want to be good too. Don’t compare yourself to Joel he. . . he got lucky with Sarah. As long as she’s happy and safe he doesn’t care about right and wrong. We on the other hand, we’re still trying to find ourselves. It’s not as easy for us to make that distinction. We think endlessly about the ones who get caught in the crossfire.”

God, but you aren’t doing the right thing. It’s easy to forget that with Joel’s lips on your skin—sure, maybe you’re not straight-up lying to him, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re being dishonest.

He looks at you with those puppy dog eyes. So round and wide. “People like you can’t try to be good,” he answers, confusing you. He waits, allowing the silence to follow as he thinks of his words. “You’re already good. You don’t need to try to be.”

The confession bubbles up from your chest to your throat. You taste it. Sweet like sugar and deadly like poison. You have to tell him. You need to tell him.

You lick your lips, your mouth dry like sandpaper. He’s staring directly into your soul, he sees something hopeful. Something good. You want to shake him, tell him that he’s the good one. He doesn’t blink. Not once. You open your mouth. You’re going to do it, you’re going to tell him and whatever happens next, however he reacts, it’s what you deserve.

Normally, Tommy’s eyes are a shade lighter compared to his older brother’s. While Joel’s eyes walk the line of being downright black, Tommy’s always reminds you of your favorite brand of chocolate.

But right now it’s dark as night. Just like Joel’s.

“Hey,” he finally blinks, smiling. The confession that had bubbled to the surface slowly simmers down. “We should get some sleep.”

“But—”

“I appreciate you talkin’ to me sweetheart. I. . . feel better, in a weird way,” he comes closer, kisses your cheek. His lips are damp. “I’ll be sure to talk to you more in the future, a’right? Promise.”

“Okay,” you mumble. You both get up from the couch and saunter upstairs, the air that surrounds you lighter. He takes the guest bedroom, the room where August slept the week before.

Tommy stills at the door, “Well, goodnight.”

You can’t leave it at this, you just can’t.

“Tommy, I need to tell you something.” your words are sharp and clear. His hand tightens around the doorknob, what does he think you’re about to say?

“Yeah?”

You can’t do it. Coward.

“Do you need. . . another pillow?”

“Um,” he opens the door, takes a look. “No, I’m good. Is that all you were gonna say?”

“It is.”

It isn’t.

I'm sorry that this took me insanely long for some reason???? Honestly, I blame the fact that I'm not used to writing family dynamics, it's hard. 😭😭😭 but nonetheless I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, let me know what you guys thought 💜

I did make a post about it but I'll be taking a small break from SIB, I will return to it and will be working on it in the background but I really need to let my mind loose. The next two chapters are already outlined so y'all won't be waiting for that long! This isn't one of those series where the rest of the plot is lost in time and space and I'm too chicken to work on it lmaodfvd

Thank you so much for all the support!!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #hbo the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters

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