#it's only been a couple of months not even a full year

[beomgyuslilracha]

two best friends in a room ❀.*

⊹ pairing: huening kai x f! reader

⊹ genre: clueless childhood friends to lovers

⊹ warnings: drinking involved and maybe angst if you squint really hard? other than that, it's mainly fluff!

⊹ wc: 7.0k

summary: if you had a thousand won for every time you heard the question "are you two dating?" or just the words "you two should just date already!", you and kai could probably afford to buy a house together. in which two childhood best friends are the only ones in all of seoul who can't seem to see that they're obviously in love with each other.

there were always hints.

not-so-subtle clues.

signs — or, billboards, if you will.

realistically, they were all so blatantly obvious that anyone with a functioning pair of eyes could see it. something just short of being able to scream the words to the world itself.

unfortunately, there is a certain pair that was utterly and embarrassingly oblivious.

and even more unfortunate? it was the same pair that the billboards were screaming about.

two childhood best friends. the beloved trope that all the best stories were inspired by and written about. the kind of friends anyone could look at and know, at first glance, that they were soulmates - destined to be together in any and every lifetime

the only thing fate didn't account for, in this lifetime, was the fact that they were both ridiculously blind.

୨ ✿ ୧

huening kai and y/n.

brought together by a stolen pack of 64 crayola crayons in primary school and impossible to separate ever since. had no one known any better, anyone would have been convinced that the two of you were, quite literally, glued to the hip.

despite all the years that have passed since you two first met, you both still did absolutely everything together. hell, you literally followed each other from primary school all the way to the same university.

the only way life managed to pull you two apart at all was with the ridiculously unreasonable university guidelines separating the male and female dorms — the rules were very much reasonable, you two were just pouty about it.

luckily for your codependency, you and kai only ever had to deal with being apart for four days out of the week.

once the weekend came around, with yeonjun and soobin's approval - and sometimes even without - the two of you, along with beomgyu and taehyun, would gather at their shared apartment and spend the next two nights and three days all together.

in fact, tonight was the first night of said weekend, and you and kai were already making your way to the elevator to head up to the older boys' apartment.

not empty-handed, of course, seeing as you both had one hand occupied with bags full of snacks to share and enjoy between the six of you.

it was a sort of rule that yeonjun and soobin collectively implemented after a few months of four freeloaders living off of their food supply. if any one of you were going to come over - most especially unannounced - then you were kindly asked (aka demanded) to supply the group with drinks/snacks.

in any case, the hands that weren't holding anything were to be found perfectly entwined with each other's — and they have been ever since the two of you left the university. not that this was anything out of the ordinary; honestly, it would be more surprising if you weren't holding hands.

your friendship with kai, for as long as either of you could remember, has always been an affectionate one. lots of hand-holding, many hugs, and even quite a bit of cuddling that made the rest of your friends feel nauseous upon witnessing.

"ahh, if it isn't the happy couple," yeonjun teased immediately after opening the door, earning simultaneous eye rolls from the two of you.

"oh ha ha, that's a new one." you stuck your tongue out playfully at the older boy, handing him the bag of snacks from your hand.

kai followed, quickly passing his bag of snacks into yeonjun's other hand while quickly following you inside - greeting soobin with a sweet embrace directly after you.

there was just something about the 'teasing yeonjun and loving soobin' agenda that the two of you naturally followed.

"kai ... there is nothing but gummies in here." yeonjun pointed out from the kitchen, his brows furrowed together as he scavenged through the bags the two of you had handed to him.

"yeah, i wanted to try every flavor they had!" kai answered enthusiastically, parting from you momentarily to go and grab a gummy bag full of sharks.

"i tried to stop him, but he insisted," you said with a shrug.

"no you didn't! you grabbed half of the bags!"

you were just about to open your mouth to deny his accusations, but, one mini flashback later, you realized he was right. on top of that, you were pretty sure it was also your idea ... but the others didn't need to know that.

"whatever," yeonjun rolled his eyes, an amused grin on his lips as he left both bags full of gummies to sit on the countertop. "let's just hope taehyun brings something that's considered actual food."

soobin couldn't help but to laugh from the living room as he began turning on the TV. "no faith in beomgyu then, huh?"

"are you kidding? last weekend he brought a king-size snickers bar and considered that his contribution," yeonjun recalled, throwing himself onto the couch cushion as he shook his head.

both you and kai simultaneously burst into giggles as the two of you also thought back to the same memory of your friend's dorky grin holding up his snickers bar with pride.

"didn't he eat the whole thing himself, too?" you asked, laughing even more.

"i swear, if he comes in here with nothing again, i'm literally kicking him out," yeonjun stated with exasperation, though all of you were more than positive that he was not remotely serious.

gathering a few bags of gummies to share between the two of you, both you and kai settled together in the single recliner seat – despite the open loveseat across from the two of you being entirely available for you to sit comfortably in.

not that either of you were uncomfortable in any way. in fact, it was quite the opposite. you squeezed beside kai in the seat cheerfully, with your legs draped over his lap, and began to playfully add a peach ring to both of his ring fingers.

one glance in your direction had yeonjun gagging in a mocking manner, rolling his eyes dramatically.

he only stopped when you threw a shark gummy at his head, grinning in amusement as he took a bite of it's head.

a knock sounding from the door interrupted the casual chatter that had eventually occupied the room, introducing taehyun into the space once soobin had answered the door for him. he wordlessly lifted his arms, showcasing the bags filled with chinese takeout to the three of you that remained in the living room.

"tyun, you're my angel," yeonjun cooed, pretending to be moved to tears when he eyed the containers filled with actual food. he stood from the couch to walk over to taehyun with open arms of affection, though taehyun himself wasn't exactly welcome of the gesture – judging by the way he dodged his hug to greet you and kai instead.

"ah, i see you two have made yourself comfortable already," taehyun remarked, noting the position the two of you were in.

"wasted no time when they got here, actually," soobin added with a chuckle, walking back to the loveseat with a container of noodles in his hands this time.

you scoffed, shaking your head with the slightest twinge of annoyance, though not bothered enough to make any sort of comment in return.

unfortunately, you and kai were far too used to the teasing by this point.

whether they feigned disgust or constantly referred to the two of you as a couple, you both remained unbothered and confident in your friendship to not let any of their remarks affect you.

"whatever," you dismissed them casually, chewing off the head of the gummy bear in your hand. "so what're the plans for tonight?"

soobin shrugged with uncertainty, setting down his chopsticks after chewing his mouthful of noodles. "same as always, i think. we could make up another game tournament or just have a movie marathon."

taehyun was quick to shake his head as he sat down on the longer sofa, his expression appearing completely serious. "i'm not playing another game with those cheaters over there," he commented, nodding his head over in your direction.

your mouth gaped open in surprise. "what is that supposed to mean??"

yeonjun scoffed loudly in order to truly showcase his disbelief in your shock. "oh, please, as if you two don't always team up together to cheat against us."

"when have we ever-" kai started, but was cut off by the other three instantaneously listing all the games that the two of you have cheated in without any hesitation – which wound up being almost every single game.

"... and then there was also that time in monopoly where you were both sneaking money under the table-"

"okay, hold on, that's not fair! we were already on the verge of going bankrupt by the time we started cheating," you attempted to defend yourself, pointing your finger over at taehyun. "you had like 5 hotels on boardwalk, so excuse us for trying to help each other survive."

kai was too busy laughing beside you to join in on the conversation. he just found his best friend far too adorable as he watched you get so worked up over the memory.

the bickering went on for maybe another minute before the front door of the apartment suddenly burst open, finally announcing the presence of the final member of your group of six.

"don't worry, kids, beomgyu is here! the weekend can officially begin!" he announced loudly, kicking the door closed with his shoe as he held up two bags full of bottles of beer and soju.

"who gave him a key?" was yeonjun's only concern, looking over at soobin with a look of pure confusion.

"that's not important," beomgyu dismissed him, moving to the living room to set both bags onto the coffee table in front of everyone. "what is important is that i'm here with drinks!"

you laughed at the sight, shaking your head in amazement. "yeah, we can see that. did you want us to black out tonight or something?"

"no, i want us to have fun," beomgyu answered, lightly flicking at your forehead as if you were somehow the ridiculous one in this situation. "when was the last time the six of us actually drank and had fun?"

"i didn't know we needed to drink in order to have fun," taehyun deadpanned, not even bothering to look up from the takeout in his hands.

while the remaining four of you were in agreeance with taehyun, seeing as you've all collectively had fun together without any involvement of drinking before, beomgyu could just barely see out of the hole that he was digging himself into.

"okay, listen, you know that's not what i meant," he attempted to save himself, lifting his hands up in a surrendering motion.

"no, no, please! tell us, gyu, have you not been having fun this entire time?" you continued to tease, glancing over to kai in order to catch his amused smile and giggle together.

beomgyu noted this exchange, rolling his own eyes.

you both were always looking to the other for reactions, hoping to see if you managed to make the other smile or laugh. it was sickeningly sweet, truthfully - as if nothing was actually funny unless you reassured each other with a proper reaction.

beomgyu groaned, shaking his head. "listen, i don't want to hear it from mr. and mrs. over here, alright? you guys know what i meant!"

your previous expression of amusement quickly dropped, earning more snickers from the others. sure, you did claim to be confident in your friendship with kai to be unbothered by these types of comments, but that didn't mean they weren't still annoying to hear every five minutes.

although, you suppose that kai wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you closer to him wasn't exactly helpful to the argument.

but what did you care? as you snuggled closer into kai's embrace, you pushed the thought aside and reveled in the comfort of your best friend.

"fine, fine. what did you have in mind then?" soobin finally dragged the attention away from the two of you, pausing all the teasing for a brief moment to actually figure out what beomgyu's supposed plan to have fun was.

"thank you, my dear soobin, i'm so glad you asked," beomgyu beamed brightly. "i was thinking we could all happily drink to our heart's content and then play a mature game of truth or dare."

crickets.

"what are we, 12?" yeonjun scoffed, shaking his head instantly at the idea.

beomgyu's bottom lip jutted out into a pout. "oh, come on, it's not that bad of an idea! when we're drunk, it'll be more fun."

"listen, i'm down for drinking, but i'm probably not going to participate in your little grade school game," you spoke up honestly, shrugging.

the general consensus was pretty much on your side, leaving beomgyu to pout in defeat as everyone began grabbing a bottle to drink and continue on with the evening in a less immature way.

୨ ✿ ୧

by 10 o'clock that night and about three bottles of beer and multiple shots of soju later, the six of you were gathered around the coffee table and giggling like maniacs.

"okay, okay.. yeonjun, truth or dare?" beomgyu asked, slurring his words ever so slightly.

not one of you could remember how you got here.

yeonjun let's out a hiccup before smirking, his droopy eyes barely able to meet beomgyu's in return. "dare!"

"i dare you to record a dance challenge right now and post it to your story," beomgyu smirked back, laughing like a madman as if it were the most diabolical dare he could come up with.

"boooo," you groaned aloud, gesturing a thumbs down in beomgyu's direction. "he posts dance challenges all the time, this is no fun."

beomgyu hummed, his drunken mind barely realizing this fact for himself as well. "oh... okay, well, in that case we get to choose the challenge!"

yeonjun shrugged, entirely unbothered as he took another sip of his beer. "doesn't matter to me."

beomgyu was silent for a moment, seemingly trying to remember the current dance challenges that were going around, but all of you could clearly tell his foggy mind was coming up blank. after a brief moment of eye contact with you, he crawled over and whispered obnoxiously loud, "help me choose a challenge!"

your eyes widened with an idea, smiling brightly as you tried to recall the name of the song.

"oh, oh! make him- make him do that one where... with the girls, when they do the little thing.. with their hips?" God, what was the name of it again? your poor state of mind could not, for the life of you, remember what it was called. "you know the one, where it's like- like the .. titi ti ti... you know?"

your eyes scanned over your group of friends, hopeful that they would understand what you were talking about, but they were all collectively staring at you as if you had miraculously grown a second head.

"y/n, i mean this with all my love and affection... but what the fuck are you talking about?" beomgyu couldn't help but to laugh.

you pouted, sighing in defeat. you looked beside you at your best friend of the five, your eyes practically pleading for him to read your mind and understand you. "kai, you know what i'm talking about, right?"

he hummed for a second before lighting up with realization. "oh! you mean antifragile?"

you gasped, wasting no time in throwing your arms around him in excitement and knocking him over to the floor. "yes!! yes, thank you! i knew you'd understand me!" you peppered kisses all over his cheek in delight, genuinely overjoyed.

kai's face was now entirely flushed red at this point, and he had to hide his face behind his hands from the embarrassment after you finally pulled away from him.

an action that was certainly not missed by the group.

"there! you have to dance to antifragile and post it to your story," you beamed brightly, acting entirely nonchalant – as if you hadn't just spent the past minute and a half kissing your best friend's face.

taehyun blinked with mild surprise, exchanging equally confused looks with soobin. even they couldn't remember a time where the two of you were that affectionate with one another, so neither of them were entirely sure if they should acknowledge or ignore it.

yeonjun, for the time being, went with the latter.

"okay, well, let's film this challenge and move on."

and that he did. although, in his head, he was overly confident that he absolutely nailed the challenge and had no shame in posting it. the rest of you, however, could clearly tell that he forgot half the choreography and started dancing to an entirely different song halfway through.

of course, neither of you spoke up to correct him. you collectively agreed it would be funnier for him to watch it back in the morning.

"alright, so it's my turn now, yeah?" yeonjun asked as he sat back down on the floor, a hint of a smirk gracing his lips.

your eyes were narrowed suspiciously as his smirk only widened once he looked over and met your gaze.

"y/n. truth or dare?"

a suspicious feeling in your gut was just sober enough to convince you to play it safe. something about his determined stare had you worried about what he had in mind for a dare.

"uhh, truth."

with a subtle glance at kai, yeonjun continued on, "okay. have you ever had a crush on any one of us before?"

you blinked. "what? where did that come from?"

"oooh, that's a good one!" beomgyu was thoroughly impressed with yeonjun's question, now watching you with intense curiosity shining in his big, boba eyes. "have you?"

even soobin and taehyun were eyeing you with piqued interest.

you swallowed a nervous gulp, feeling your cheeks heating up under their scrutinizing gazes.

"is that a yes i'm sensing, little y/nie?" yeonjun teased in a cooing voice, smirking almost devilishly as he studied the way you were shyly avoiding eye contact. "which one of us, huh?"

"hey, cut that out," kai quickly stepped in, setting his drink down. "she doesn't have to answer that."

his arm snaked around your waist protectively, his brows furrowing together. he couldn't entirely tell if you were uncomfortable by the question, but he'd rather not take any risks.

one could argue, however, that maybe kai was the one personally trying to avoid the question. taehyun's eyebrow twitched inquisitively, eyeing kai now more than ever. was he, perhaps, the one who did not want to know the answer to that question?

"fine, fine, but she still hasn't answered the first one," yeonjun chuckled, tilting his head playfully. "and if she doesn't, then she has to do the triple dog dare of my choosing."

you groaned, your hands reaching up to cover the glowing red color that was painted across your cheeks from the embarrassment. there was no way in hell you were about to have yeonjun triple dog dare you to do anything.

"okay!" you exclaimed, still staring straight ahead at the table to avoid looking at any of them. "yes... i had a crush on one of you guys before, but that was way back in our first year of high school. it lasted, for like, a week and then i was over it."

the room fell dead silent, the five of them now exchanging glances with one another as they telepathically tried to figure out which one of them it was that had caught your eye back then – even if it was rather short-lived.

in any case, you figured it would be funnier to never speak on the topic again and watch as they drive themselves crazy trying to figure out who the one was.

"moving on," you continued the game casually. "taehyun, truth or dare?"

he strategically chose to answer truth, allowing you to ask him a rather harmless question about any secret guilty pleasures he has hidden from the rest of you.

to which he swore up and down that there was nothing he was ashamed of to hide.

"kai, truth or dare?" taehyun's tone was relatively calm, but his unwavering eyes had a part of you feeling rather nervous about what he had planned.

"ummm.." kai glanced at you for some form of reassurance, almost sharing your sense of nerves. "truth?"

"have you ever thought about dating?"

kai's original nervousness faded as he then rolled his eyes, an act that had almost become a routine of his for every time this question was brought up. "oh, come on, don't you guys ever get tired of that question? why can't y/n and i just be friends without you guys bringing up dating every five minutes?"

taehyun smirked.

if this were a game of chess, he'd imagine kai was put in check right about now.

"i just asked if you ever thought about dating in general. you were the one who thought of y/n."

kai opened his mouth to retort, but not a word came out.

after a few seconds had passed, though it truthfully felt like an hour, you finally scoffed. "i'm sorry, but can you blame him? you guys never leave us alone, so obviously kai was going to assume that was just another roundabout way of talking about the two of us."

taehyun lifted his hands in a silent gesture of surrender, wordlessly setting down his metaphorical chess piece as he gave in to the checkmate.

"so does that mean we can rule out kai being the one you crushed on in high school?" beomgyu questioned suddenly, shifting the attention over to himself.

"beomgyu!" soobin hissed, placing his finger to his lips in order to signal for beomgyu to hush.

now it was beomgyu who was holding his hands up in surrender. "what? i can't be the only one who's still thinking about it, right?"

you couldn't help but to laugh, shaking your head in genuine amusement. regardless of the atmosphere, you knew you could always count on beomgyu to lighten the mood in any situation.

eventually, the six of you went back to the game and there were no longer any unnecessary insinuations from the others about your friendship with kai. even when the two of you got extra cuddly after more drinks, their comments remained kept to themselves - though their shared looks were not as secretive as they may have thought.

that was, until later, when you and taehyun found yourselves alone in the kitchen as you were grabbing water bottles for everyone. at least, that's what the two of you originally went into the kitchen for - somehow after discovering a container of dumplings, the two of you ended up sat on the floor instead and eating them together away from the others.

"so what're you going to do when kai starts dating?"

you froze midbite, caught off-guard by the sudden question. you quickly chewed what was in your mouth before turning to stare at taehyun with a perplexed look. "what are you talking about?"

"i'm talking about kai. eventually, he's going to want to start dating," taehyun reiterated for you, his expression unwavering. "if you two always swear up and down that you're just friends, that means he's going to have to be apart from you to get close with someone else. so i was just curious what you were going to do."

you couldn't help but to be taken aback. the thought never really dawned on you before, seeing as you kind of just assumed you and kai would be inseparable.

"why do we have to be apart for him to start dating?" you asked, feeling a small twinge in your heart at the thought.

taehyun sighed, having to remind himself of your codependency on each other. "well, think about it this way. imagine you start dating someone, but they always had to have their best friend around. wouldn't you feel uncomfortable?"

you frowned, painfully realizing the truth to taehyun's explanation. you supposed it would be kind of awkward to always have a third person around in an intimate relationship.

"well, so far, kai and i never had to deal with that problem," you commented, glancing back at taehyun.

taehyun shook his head, unable to suppress the pity in his eyes. "of course you haven't had to deal with it yet. no one approaches either of you because they already assume that you're dating."

another painful point ...

"i'm just saying," taehyun spoke up, shrugging his shoulders as he focused back on grabbing the last dumpling from the container. "if you two really are 'just friends', then you need to be ready for when the other eventually starts dating."

admittedly, it was a little difficult going back to the others after that and acting as if you hadn't been faced with a reality check during, what was supposed to be, a fun night of hanging out together. it was even more difficult having kai wrap his arm around you when all you could imagine was him treating another girl the same exact way.

did that mean you wouldn't be able to be close with him anymore?

of course not.. what girl in their right mind would want to see their boyfriend cuddled up with another girl?

"y/nie, you okay?" kai's gentle voice beside you finally drew you out of your spiraling thoughts, his hand simultaneously reaching up to caress your cheek as he studied your saddened expression.

you forced a smile. "yeah, sorry, i just got lost in thought."

it was more than evident that kai knew you weren't being entirely honest - the two of you have been friends for almost your entire lives, he practically knew you inside and out by this point. of course, he also knew that you would tell him when you were ready, and now was not exactly the best time when you were surrounded by your four other friends.

curse kang taehyun for putting these thoughts in your head. there you were having a great night with your friends, then suddenly you were heartbroken over the thought of losing your best friend when he was still sitting right beside you.

you prayed that both sides of taehyun's pillow ended up being warm for the entire weekend.

"y/n! truth or dare!" beomgyu called out suddenly, reminding you of the game that you had originally been playing before you and taehyun had left for your side quest in the kitchen.

"oh, right, um ... okay, dare."

the game continued on rather normally while you all consumed more drinks, but you honestly couldn't recall many details of what had occurred later on during the night. you remember a lot of giggling and stumbling around, but nothing too specific after that.

although, you do happen to remember vividly clinging onto kai more and more as the night progressed. you started off with simply resting your head on his shoulder to be close to him, but somewhere along the way you ended up on his lap and making the others nauseous as you cuddled up even closer.

"i think i'm going to be sick, and it's not from the alcohol," beomgyu had joked at one point, pretending to gag as he turned away from the sight of you and kai feeding each other gummies.

"you're just jealous," you teased, sticking out your tongue playfully.

a devilish grin adorned beomgyu's features at your words. he tilted his head, now turning the tables around to tease you. "you know what? i am jealous." he patted his lap dramatically. "why don't you come over here and feed me gummies?"

before you could even register how to respond to that, kai's arms had subconsciously tightened around you to keep you in his hold. "no."

you felt your heart leap in your chest at his deadpanned answer, but you couldn't even begin to decipher as to why. you glanced over at kai curiously, trying to judge whether he was being serious or just joking around.

"get your own gummies," kai finished, a humorous smile finally growing on his face.

the two of them seemed to laugh and move on, but why were you still thinking about the way his arms were still held protectively around you? and why was your heart pounding in your chest?

what if it wasn't the gummies that he didn't want to share?

you let your head fall to rest on kai's chest, closing your eyes gently. maybe you just drank too much to think rationally.

୨ ✿ ୧

once it had reached an ungodly hour of the night, and not a single one of you were capable of keeping your eyes open any longer, you each collectively agreed to split off into your respective rooms to sleep.

yeonjun and soobin lived in a three bedroom apartment, thus allowing the six of you to divide evenly into each room every time you all stayed over.

it was an unspoken rule that you and kai were always paired together in the guest bedroom, leaving beomgyu and taehyun to decide which one of them bunked with yeonjun or soobin in their own bedrooms.

tonight, you and kai didn't wait around to see where the two ended up staying. instead, the two of you washed up together in the restroom and headed straight to bed while the others played whatever deciding game they chose.

now, every time the two of you stayed the night together in the older boys' apartment before, you've comfortably been able to share a bed and cuddle together throughout the night without a second thought.

so why do you both suddenly feel so far away from each other?

the two of you were laying on your backs, staring up at the ceiling in a darkened room with only the soft sounds of your breath to fill the silence.

unbeknownst to the other, you were both laying awake and allowing your thoughts to run crazy as you individually processed a few details during the night.

while you were chewing on the inside of your cheek and processing the brief conversation you had with taehyun in the kitchen, kai was consumed with the painful curiosity of wondering which one of them it was that you had once held feelings for.

sure, he was able to feign his nonchalance during the game, but that didn't mean it wasn't still eating him alive.

"hey, can i ask-" you both spoke up simultaneously, only stopping to let out a small laugh at the realization.

"you can go first," you offered, turning your head over in his direction to face him.

he seemed to take a deep breath before turning over to face you as well. since both of your eyes had enough time to adjust to the darkness of the room, you were able to see him rather clearly, thus allowing you to note his oddly nervous expression.

"you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but..." he was hesitating now. "i was just, you know .. wondering..."

his fingers were mindlessly toying with a loose piece of string from the duvet, a small distraction for his hands as he attempted to build up his courage. he could feel his heart practically hammering against his ribcage, and a part of him feared that you could hear it as well.

God, did he even want to know?

"beomgyu."

his heart plummeted into his stomach. "..what?"

"it was beomgyu," you chuckled lightly, completely unaware of the way kai's throat had practically run dry. "that's what you wanted to ask, right?"

he nodded, seemingly incapable of forming any words at the moment. there was this strange feeling in his chest that felt like a weight had been placed on it, but he could not understand why he would feel like this.

"it was only for, like, three days, though," you clarified, feeling a sudden urge to reassure him. "it was when he was elected class president for our year. i think i mostly just built this image of him in my head to be like those k-dramas we always watch."

truth be told, kai only half-listened to what you were saying. once he heard that it was beomgyu who had once been a subject of your feelings, his mind subconsciously wandered off to start comparing himself to his older friend.

but why?

"did you fall asleep on me?" you asked suddenly, your soft voice finally drawing him out of his self-deprecating thoughts.

"no, sorry, i was just... lost in thought," he answered, repeating the same excuse that you had used on him earlier in the evening. he cleared his throat now, wanting to move on desperately from this topic. "so what was your question?"

you were grateful to the darkness for covering the blush that had suddenly graced your cheeks. now that it came time to actually ask him, you no longer had any desire to know the answer.

"oh, it was nothing, nevermind. it was a stupid question," you quickly dismissed it, waving your hand in the air as if to physically brush off the question.

without even realizing it, kai's instinctive nature had him reaching for your hand to intertwine his fingers with yours. an action that should be relatively normal for the two of you suddenly causing your heart rate to speed up unnaturally.

"hey, don't say that. you know you can ask me anything," kai reassured you, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand.

you had to swallow down the lump that had formed in your throat. somehow his hand in yours made the question even more difficult to ask than before.

you took a deep breath, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. you couldn't remember a time before where you had ever felt scared to be open with kai.

"have- have you ever thought about dating anyone?"

once the question had escaped your lips, you ultimately regretted it. you no longer had any desire of wanting to know the answer to that question, afraid that kai would suddenly agree that the two of you should start spending less time together.

"honestly?"

fuck, here it comes...

"honestly, no," kai answered genuinely. "its never really crossed my mind before."

"why not?"

you could see his outline shrug through the darkness. "i don't know. i guess i've just always been so happy with you that i never needed another person in my life."

your heart was practically swelling in your chest as you felt your face grow ten times warmer than it's normal temperature, though a frown still remained on your lips as a sudden new sense of guilt filled your chest after further thought.

"but don't you want someone you can be affectionate with?"

kai chuckled, shaking his head. "i think we're plenty affectionate with each other, yeah?" he lifted up your hands to make a point, noting that they had yet to separate from being entwined with each other.

you scoffed, rolling your eyes - despite the fact that he couldn't quite see the action. "you know what i mean! i mean someone you can actually, you know... kiss.. and be intimate with." your voice grew quieter as you finished your sentence, feeling shy and embarrassed for even bringing it up.

the room felt like someone had turned up the heater by ten degrees, increasing this unknown tension that was settling between the two of you.

"but we have kissed before, remember?" you could practically hear the smirk that was on his face as he adjusted his position in bed to lay on his side and face you directly.

you let out a laugh, shaking your head before turning to face him with a humorous grin. "i don't think it counts when we were seven."

he laughed with you for a moment before returning to the original topic. "i know, i know. but i'm serious. i guess i just always saw us as inseparable, so i never really considered being apart from you to get to know anyone else."

"do you want to?"

the two of you were facing each other entirely now, the space between you both having suddenly minimized dramatically from before - only your interlocked hands separating the two of you from practically brushing noses.

"do you want to?"

no... no, absolutely not. there was no one else in this world who could ever remotely compare to kai in the slightest, much less replace him.

of course, a part of you was far too shy to voice such thoughts out loud, leaving you to simply shake your head in response instead.

"then i don't either." his voice was as low as a whisper, eliciting your heart to leap in your chest.

you couldn't pinpoint when it happened exactly, but the energy in the room had definitely shifted. there was something unspoken in the air that neither of you were quite confident enough to address, too afraid of how the other may react.

which left you both to lay in silence, gazing shyly at one another while your hearts unknowingly raced in sync.

after what felt like centuries had passed, the soft shuffling sound of movement broke the deafening silence. of course, what you hadn't expected was for the movement to signify kai leaning in closer... and closer.

you could smell the peppermint from the toothpaste as you felt his soft breath hit your face, fully aware of the way his lips were now only a mere centimeter from your own.

"wait-"

in a matter of seconds, after you impulsively voiced your hesitancy, it was like he was suddenly farther away than before.

kai had sat up so quickly when he registered your voice, feeling absolutely disgusted with himself for daring to make such a move without ensuring you were comfortable.

of course he read the room wrong... he just got too far ahead of himself in the moment...

"no, you're right, i'm so sorry," he was rambling so quickly, you were barely able to make out a word. "i shouldn't have done that, i don't know what i was thinking. i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, i'm so sorry."

you had to reach out for his arm in order to stop him from leaving. he had already thrown off the blanket and was preparing to leave the room entirely, uttering apology after apology as he stood up from the bed completely.

your heart physically ached at the sight – all because you couldn't keep your mouth shut for one more second.

"no, kai, listen to me.." you finally managed to get out, positioning yourself to sit up on your knees in front of him as you desperately clung to his arm to prevent him from leaving you. "that wasn't what i meant."

he gulped, thankful for the darkness that you couldn't make out the tear that had escaped and was now racing down his cheek. he was not really one to be emotional like this, but he was scared.

he was scared that he ruined everything.

you were the last person he ever wanted to lose, so to think he could have messed it all up with one wrong move...

"i said 'wait' because... i've never actually kissed anyone before," you admitted through an embarrassed mumble, your heart pounding in your chest from the nerves. you wondered if he could feel the way your hand was shaking.

he guided your hand from his arm, gently pressing it up to his cheek and leaning into your touch. he chuckled ever so softly, the sound erupting butterflies in your stomach that you hadn't ever felt before.

his voice was gentle and delicate, perfectly easing your concern. "i haven't either, remember?"

with him still holding your hand up to his cheek, you absent-mindedly begin to caress his cheek with your thumb. your heart was most definitely on the verge of beating right out of your chest, but you no longer cared.

here you were, in front of your best friend, with these newfound feelings stirring in your chest. although you couldn't quite understand or make sense of all of them, you did know one thing for sure.

you really wanted to kiss him.

this time, you were confident enough to lean in. you had originally imagined the experience to be much more romantic, but it appeared that your lips only just managed to make contact with the corner of his mouth - having missed your original target amidst the darkness.

the two of you instantly burst into a fit of giggles, resting your foreheads against one another as you processed the moment. you were mostly reacting out of embarrassment, but kai found it to be extremely endearing.

your giggles were cut short as you felt kai's hand gently cradle your jaw, silencing you as his lips perfectly made contact with your own.

there wasn't much movement, seeing as you both weren't exactly the most experienced, but there was still a spark of electricity that sent shivers down your spine.

you giggled against his lips as he broke into a shy grin, pulling away ever so slightly. "i'm sorry, i'm- i'm not good at this."

you shook your head quickly, cupping both sides of his face gently with your hands. "no, don't say that. we both just need practice, that's all."

with a newfound confidence, kai snaked his arms around your waist to pull you close to his chest, once again making you grateful for the darkened room hiding the intense blush that was certainly coloring your face right about now. "you'll help me practice, right?"

you could only nod, taking the opportunity to connect your lips together once more and reveling in the way it felt to kiss your best friend - your other half, truly.

the kiss lasted much longer this time. despite you being the one to initiate it, kai was the one to deepen the kiss and fill the room with the intimate sounds.

once the two of you pulled away to catch your breaths, you smirked in response.

"what are best friends for?"

masterlist

a/n:

i needed to desperately give in to writing fluff with kai because myGOD i've just been feeling so deeply for him lately 😭 i apologize for working on this over ydgtp, but i needed to get this out so bad. i could probably do a pt. 2 of sorts.. but i like it how it is so maybe not.

pls let me know what you think !! and i promise to go back to writing pt. 8 🤩

~

permanent taglist:

@human-misery @dongmeiii @softcabur @marekmybeloved @aishidaishi @taekwondoes @wccycc @jjhmk @mjlasagna @eclecticeggknightpsychic @yjusei @beachbabe4ever @laylasbunbunny

#tomorrow x together #tomorrow x together imagines #tomorrow x together imagine #txt #txt imagine #txt imagines #hueningkai #hueningkai x reader #huening kai x reader #huening kai #hueningkai imagines #huening txt #hueningkai fluff #hueningkai x you #hueningkai x y/n #hueningkai fanfic #txt drabbles #txt x reader #hueningkai drabble

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part 4

authors note: the love and response to this story continues to absolutely floor me. you guys are all so sweet! i was nervous about posting, but everyone has made me feel so happy that i did, so thank you!

couple of hints about things sprinkled through this one. the more i write, the more things are getting fleshed out, so idk how many parts this will be atp, nothing too crazy though!!!

also, some tags don't seem to work for some reason, like when i type it, the hyperlink doesn't appear so super sorry to those impacted by that!!!

warnings: angst, fluff, language, suggestive content

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

word count: 5.8k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wonderingfashion @shayaaaaaaa @usoholic @brokenglassslippers @gators-aid @dersha89 @southerngirl41 @empressdede

You couldn't eat. 

Couldn't sleep.

Could barely think straight.

All that consumed you, ate at you, gnawed at your sanity was one thought and one thought alone.

He wanted to take her from you. 

Joe wanted to take your daughter from you, your four year old daughter who still couldn't even go to sleep at night unless she got to see or speak to you.

The daughter who he'd only known existed just recently but was seemingly set on ripping away from you.

That thought destroyed you, made you raw from blistering agony at just the idea of not having Callie with you full time. It destroyed you to the point that you decided to throw some clothes on, hop in your car, and set your google maps for the hotel you knew he’d be staying at. Damn the fact that it was the middle of the night or that you were stupid as hell for being in that situation in the first place. None of that mattered. 

You needed to talk to him, and you needed to talk to him now. 

Joe opens the door with a forceful swing, looking as irritated and disheveled as you’d expect one to look at nearly 1am in the morning. However, when his eyes land on you, confusion meshes with irritation. “Y/N?”

“Hi.” It’s said in a breathy tone. You're struggling to remember the script you rehearsed the whole drive there. “I’m sorry. I know it’s late—”

“What the..….” He sighs heavily and steps aside, motioning for you to come in. “Get in here.”

You don’t need to be told twice, looking around the hotel room that looks so plain and undeserving of someone with Joe’s stature. But, you also know this area isn’t exactly saturated with 5 star hotels, far from it. This is probably the most elite one he could find with such short notice, and it’s not bad at all, just….basic.

He clears his throat, and you return your attention to the man who you just realized is also shirtless. If not for the pending mental breakdown you’re fighting to keep at bay, it would be extremely distracting. Joe is a lot of things, and fine as hell is at the top of that list.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” He sounds exhausted, and you can’t tell if it’s from the argument earlier that day or being woken up in the middle of the night. Probably both. 

“I just—I need to talk to you.”

“Now?” 

Nodding, you continue. “I know….I know I messed up, okay? I should have told you, but I just—I need you to look at it from my perspective. I need you to just hear me out, and if—if you still feel the same way, then–then I’ll have to deal with that….but please.” 

He’s leaning back against the dresser, arms crossed, taking time to answer as he weighs your offer. Finally, he concedes, “you came all the way over here. I’m not just gonna send you away.”

You’re thankful for him being willing to at least hear some of what you have to say. “Callie.....she was conceived the last time we were together.” Not sure if that part was necessary or the best way to start out, you quickly move on to the next point. “I didn’t find out I was pregnant until two months later. And on top of not knowing what the fuck to feel, I barely knew what to do. I was pregnant by a married man that I’d been sleeping with for three years. A married, famous man at that. Who I finally decided I needed to move on from.” 

Revisiting this is harder than you expected, harder than when you rehearsed it on your drive here. “I was scared, Joe, okay? I was scared, so I—I did what I thought was best at that time, and clearly it was wrong. I 100% own up to that, and you get to be angry with me, but you don’t get to let that anger influence your decision making, because it is.” 

This is the part you debated so deeply on whether to say or not say, to potentially poke the already irate bear. But, you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t speak up for yourself and your daughter. “You want a legal custody arrangement, and I understand why, but—Joe, your name isn’t even on her birth certificate, but to tell you the truth…..I wanted it to be. I did.” Whether he believes you or not is on him, but it’s true. Because while he wasn't present in her life, he was still her father. Nothing would change that. “They wouldn’t do it without you present and without a paternity test—”

“I could have been there,” he interrupts, sounding more hurt than anything. “I should have been there.” 

“You’re right, but you weren’t, and I’m sorry for that too. I’m not trying to make any excuses here, just lay out facts. And the fact is that you can get a paternity test, you can establish paternity, and you can try to secure joint custody, but we both know there’s no way you can take her on. You work nonstop, Joe, and she can’t be on the road like that. She’s four for fucks sake. Calista needs stability, and she has that with me. You know I’m right.”

And you can see that he sees you’re right, the wheels turning in his head as he takes in your sound predictions.

“And I know you don’t right now, and that’s okay, but I am asking you to please trust me enough to know that I will not get in the way of you getting to know Calista. Trust that I only want what’s best for her, I’ve only ever wanted what was best for her.”

“Why should I?” Despite his words, you can see and hear the crumbling of his defenses, of the brick and mortar wall he'd erected earlier during the first round of this conversation. “What’s different now?”

“Because she asked about you.” This is the part that crushes you the most, that makes you wonder if you’ll ever be able to forgive yourself for even putting her in that situation. “Because she thinks you’re not in her life because she’s not a good girl, and I will not have my child grow up thinking she wasn’t good enough for her father to want to be in her life.”

You won’t let her grow up like you.

Period.

Having this discussion, saying these things aloud, you’re slowly starting to recognize how some of your own unaddressed issues have contributed to this situation. How your refusal to confront buried trauma has bled into another generation. It’s…..uncomfortable, to say the least.

And something you definitely need to revisit, probably sooner rather than later. Just…not right now. 

You’ve got to sort this through first.

It’s after a few minutes of silence that he finally speaks, voice surprisingly calm. “You’re right.” You let out a deep breath, nearly falling back at his words. You knew he was wavering but not to the point where he would yield. “I know….I know our situation is complicated, and I’m sorry for being so cold with you. I just—fuck, I don’t know how to process all of this.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “Neither do I, but we can figure it out, because we can’t…..we can’t put her through a custody battle. I won’t do that.” Despite your very valid facts, you also recognize that while he probably wouldn’t win, he has access to the best legal team money can buy and would outlast you in court by miles. 

You won’t say it aloud, not even sure if you can, but you’d soon rather concede than put her through that. You’d give him whatever he asked for if it meant sparing her from that trauma. 

It’s a far cry from your stance hours earlier, but time and actually thinking things through made you realize the pain you’d experience at having Callie taken from you would be nothing compared to what that experience would do to her. You know custody disputes can be long and nasty, and though she was still young, you didn’t want to find out if they would question her. 

You’d sacrifice your soul and surrender. 

You loved her enough to let her go.

“You’re right.” He repeats himself, even and calm. It’s such a stark difference for both of you compared to the blowup from earlier. There’s actual communication occurring, talking with each other, instead of at each other. Listening to hear, not to react. “I—I couldn’t do that to you. I spoke out of anger. My schedule is crazy and she needs stability. You give her that.”

There’s an insurmountable amount of relief that washes over you at his words. It’s night and day from the angry—though rightfully—man that stood before you earlier today. And you couldn’t be more grateful. 

“Thank you.” There aren’t enough words to adequately express the depth of your gratitude. Joe is well within his right to be upset, and like you said, you’ll take whatever that is, so long as the both of you can agree that Callie being with you is for the best. For her, but for you too. You won’t deny that. Your daughter is your life, and the thought of being without her, even for a period of time makes you sick to your stomach. “I–” You wipe your eyes, completely unaware that you’d been crying at one point, the tears starting to dry up. “I’m taking off work tomorrow and keeping her home. You…you can come over once I pick her up from Mariah's."

His eyes light up with appreciation that matches your own for his willingness to look past his feelings to do what’s best for your child. “Yeah?”

You offer a small smile. “I’ll probably get her around 10 and text you when you can head over.”

He nods, and the excitement in his expression warms you. It’s so strange how you can go through so many emotions in such a short time regarding the man in front of you. He always has been able to evoke things out of you that no one else could.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

The way he takes you in, assessing you, it makes you shift your weight from one foot to another. Your hoodie suddenly feels too heavy, warmth climbing up to your cheeks. “I—” You gesture to the door with your thumb. “I should head out.” 

It’s when you turn to leave that he grabs your wrist to stop you. 

“Where are you going?”

Your brow lifts at his tone and words, confused by the quick change and his hand on your arm. “Umm, home?” 

“Like hell you are.” His dismissal is firm and final as he informs, “you'll crash here tonight.” Your face must be painted in defiance, because he explains, “it's almost 2 in the morning, and you look exhausted. I'm not letting you get on the road. Anything could happen.”

“Joe—”

He lifts his hand, silencing you as he points to the middle of the room. “You can take the bed. It's uncomfortable anyway.”

Ironically, a small yawn escapes, further proving his point. You are exhausted, in several different ways. The idea of driving back home right now is not nearly as appealing as sleeping off the day's events. “Okay.” Remembering his comment, you add, “you could have picked one of those fancy hotels ya'll stay in, you know.”

“I don't think there's anything ‘fancy’ within 30 miles of here.” He's not entirely wrong, the town's local steakhouse is considered the definition of fine dining and hotspot for special occasions. 

“There were once rumors of a Hilton being built.”

He looks almost hopeful. “When was that?”

You bite down on your lip. “When I was in middle school.” A small laugh escapes at his look of exasperation. 

“You should take the bed. It's gotta be more comfortable than the alternative.” Truly, because the idea of Joe's big ass trying to sleep on a damn fold out sofa is both hilarious and tragic. “I just need a shirt.”

He looks at you. “A shirt?”

“Yeah.”

“Because…..”

Rolling your eyes, you tug at your old college hoodie. “I can't sleep in this. It's uncomfortable as hell. I dress light at night. You know—” And you stop yourself, because he shouldn’t remember that you always sleep in either a big shirt or thin top and shorts, never more, oftentimes nothing at all when he was in town.

For obvious reasons.

You’re grateful when he turns away and digs through his bag, probably the only one he took with him. He always traveled lightly. He comes back, reaching you one of his black t-shirts. 

“Thanks.” Accepting the item, you walk over to the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Standing in the mirror, you take in your appearance. Joe was being nice by saying you look exhausted, cause you look like shit, every bit of the days events, loud and blaring. Blowing out a breath, you start removing your clothes but pause when you go to remove your bra.

Is that….is that too much? You haven’t slept in a bra in years. Not since puberty randomly hit you over the summer between freshman and sophomore year, where you went from a modest A cup to a whopping D. And post Callie body definitely wasn’t a D anymore. It just seems….it seems indecorous. 

Deciding to go with safe instead of sorry, you swallow your discomfort and keep your bra on. With the hair tie on your wrist, you do your best to pineapple your hair, knowing good and well it’ll be frizzfest when you wake up but not really caring. 

Another yawn leaves your mouth as you walk out the bathroom only to turn into a scowl as you find Joe sitting on the sofa on his phone.

If it wasn’t so late and you weren’t so tired, you’d argue with him why it’s stupid of you to take the bed. He’s at least a foot taller than you. But, you don’t have it in you so just mutter “stubborn asshole,” place your folded clothes on the dresser, and climb into the bed. 

You double check your alarm is still set for the right time and lean across the bed to place it on the nightstand. There’s a comfortable silence between the two of you for a couple of minutes, your eyes closing as you try to sleep, even if for a couple of hours before you have to get back on the road. 

“What is she like?”

Your eyes open at his question, unexpected but understood. You think about it, wondering how to answer, how to explain all of the wonderful things that is your child. Finally, you settle on an answer, soft and honest. 

“You'll find out for yourself tomorrow.” And turning on your side, you murmur, “goodnight, Joe.”

He doesn’t say anything after that.

But while you sleep with the hope of believing that this can be worked out between the two of you, Joe lies awake, taking his turn with mind running a mile a minute.

He knew this would be difficult, knew it was going to get ugly to some extent, but what he didn’t expect was how impacted he'd be by seeing you again.

There was a stark difference between seeing you in photos and seeing you in person. His anger at the situation helped him to not react as strongly, but not as much as he liked or needed it to.

Because regardless of all his outrage, he’d missed you.

Even with your deception, with your deceit and all of his confusing emotions toward you in this whole situation, he missed you. 

Joe might not be ready to admit it aloud, but he’s never gotten over you. And not for lack of trying. He’d had a period where he tried to fuck away his feelings, tried to busy himself in between the legs of other women, his favorite distraction when he was in his twenties. Tried to remind himself that it was never meant to turn into anything anyway, that it wasn’t a big deal. But his efforts were fruitless and a waste of time.

He cared about you, he cared about you, arguably, more than he’d ever cared about a woman. Even….even Jadah.

The night you ended things was still a sore spot for him, still something he plays over in his head trying to make sense of. On the surface level, it’s pretty plain and simple. You wanted more, he couldn’t give it to you, so you moved on. 1+1. He was legally married for fucks sake. He couldn’t blame you for wanting more, but there was also a part of him that wondered why you didn’t just ask him for more.

Then again, that went both ways. Why didn’t he ask you for more?

It’s easy to say it was because of Jadah, because of his marriage, and that was both true and untrue. On his part, anyway. Divorce was easy in name but far from it in every other area. And for him, meant being forced to confront demons he tried his best to keep at bay. Up until two months ago, at least

Joe closes his eyes. This is all too much. 

He came here ready to confront you, and he had, in fucked up way, even if partially deserved. He came here to meet his daughter, to begin to form a bond with her, and he will do that. He just has to push the complicated feelings for you to the side and place them on the backburner until he can sort through that mess.

Calista is his priority right now. Whatever this is between you and him can be figured out later.

Hopefully. 

________

“She can be shy until she gets to know you.”

The day seems to have escaped you, getting on the road early in the morning to drive back and prepare to pick up Callie. She’s thrilled to see you, and vice versa. The two of you spend the beginning of the morning together, stopping at a local diner to share a breakfast before heading back to your apartment. You spend a little more time together, one on one, before texting Joe to head over, staying true to your word. 

Especially since he informed you that he had to fly out tomorrow morning. You expected as such, knowing he’d probably already been gone longer than higher ups liked. He could only push the limits so much. 

You don’t even have to be looking at him to know he’s nervous, an understandable but strange thing. Weird almost. Joe’s a lot of things, but nervous has never been one of them. “But once she gets comfortable, she won’t shut up.” That makes him smile, and you’re grateful for that.  Sure enough, you find Callie in her playroom, which used to be your office space, but the more spoiled she became from your mom, the more you realized her room was too small for all of her stuff. “Hey, Callie Bear.”

Callie looks up, smile bright as she runs over to you. You lean down to meet her hug. She gives the best, loving hugs. “I’m making you something, mommy.”

You gasp. “You are? Well, I can’t wait to see it.”

“It’s a surprise, so no peeking!” She lifts her little finger, wagging it in your face. Laughing, you nod and push back some of her curls. Callie’s eyes then land on Joe’s massive frame standing near the doorway, silently observing. You can see the emotions so clearly on his face: surprise, shock, happiness.

Callie’s smile dims as she moves closer to you, holding you close, her stranger danger kicking in. A small part of you is grateful that even at almost five, she knows to be cautious. Then there’s the other part of you that’s saddened at the fact that the “stranger” she’s cautious of is her own father. “Baby, this is….this is….”

“I’m Joe,” he finishes for you, and you’re both grateful and annoyed. Conflicted because a small part of you wanted to be the one to tell her, but also grateful he ironically took that responsibility off of you. “I’m an old friend of your mom’s.”

Welp.

That’s not….that’s not what you expected him to say, not what you two discussed. It wasn’t explicitly stated, but you were under the impression that they would tell her the truth. His statement isn’t exactly a lie, you did once consider Joe to be a friend, much more than that, but still. Joe’s role in Callie’s life is significantly more than that. 

This seems to ebb away some of Callie’s caution as she asks, “really?” Her eyes fall on you, almost looking for approval. With a tight smile, you nod, giving her the relief she needs to loosen her hold on you. “Do you like Disney?” That causes you to genuinely laugh, something your sweet child definitely inherited from both you and your mom was a love of Disney. 

“I do,” he answers, and you pause. Does he really? Perhaps. Regardless, it’s a smart answer for your Disney loving child. “Do you?”

Callie nods happily, grabbing your arm and twisting it to show the ‘remember who you are’ tattoo on your wrist. “Mommy and grandma have Disney tattoos, and mommy’s gonna get a Moana one for me!”

“Really?” Joe, now crouched down to be at her eye level, sounds genuinely interested, and maybe he is. Callie is impressively charismatic at only four. She’s also his daughter who he’s wanting to develop a relationship with, so it’s not far-fetched that she could be talking to him about the rate at which grass grows, and he would entertain it like he was watching a 49ers game. “You like Moana?”

Is water wet? “She’s the bestest! Right, mommy?” 

You chuckle, fixing her shirt. “She watches it almost every day.” You always found it interesting, ironic even, that your daughter instantly gravitated to Moana, unaware that the voice of freaking Maui is her cousin, that she too had pacific islander ancestry. Through her dad. The dad you kept from her. 

“You know I don’t know if I’ve seen that one—”

Callie’s mouth drops open as she looks at you, “mommy, can we watch it? Please? Please? Pleeeeaaassseeee?”

“Okay, okay, okay,” you relent after pretending to think about it. You like to limit her screentime to two hours, and even though she already watched The Princess and the Frog earlier for the 97th time this month, there was no way you were not gonna allow this bonding opportunity. 

Squealing, Callie surprises you by breaking away and moving over to Joe, reaching for his hand. “Let’s go, Joe!” She pulls on the sleeve of his hoodie, probably to lead him into the living room where Disney Plus is signed in. 

Alone in her playroom, you run over what just happened. You thought you would tell her the truth, tell her that this is the father she was asking about, the one she thought didn’t want her when in actuality, he wanted to know everything there was to know about her.

And for a second, you get pissed off. Why wasn’t Joe honest with her? Isn’t this what he wanted? To be in her life. It’s confusing. He is confusing. But….you try to give him the benefit of the doubt, certain that he must have some reason behind his actions. You just hope they’re damn good reasons.

“Mommy!” You know that tone of hers, the tone that tells you a request is to follow. 

You shout back, “yes?”

“Joe likes popcorn too! Can we have some?”

You laugh and shake your head, shouting out an ‘okay’. Walking out of the room and into the living room, you find Callie near the TV, arm outstretched as she explains every detail of Moana, even the most obvious ones. But, Joe is sitting on the sofa, watching and listening intently. His smile is stapled. 

He looks…..he looks so happy.

Moving into the kitchen, you move around quietly to not interrupt and to get their popcorn made.

Waiting for the popcorn to finish, you hear Callie ‘whisper’ to Joe, “Mommy can’t cook, but she makes good snacks.”

Amid his laughter, you walk near the living room, hands on her hips. “I heard that, little ms. ma’am.”

“That’s what Grandma says,” Callie defends with a shrug of her little shoulders. “She says mommy is pretty and smart and funny, but she burns water.” She looks off, confused, as if it’s finally registering to her that that doesn’t make sense. “Mommy, how do you burn water?”

Joe is on the sofa, hand over his mouth, fighting for his life. You also can’t help but laugh at the absolutely serious look on her face. “Finish your movie.” 

The microwave dings, so you grab two bowls and fill them up equally. Delivering them to both, you place hers on the coffee table as she’s back to narrating. “Popcorn, as requested.”

“Thank you.” Her eyes go wide with excitement as she suddenly asks, “will you watch it with us?”

Damn. You had a feeling she would ask but was hoping she wouldn’t. Disappointing her twice in one weekend felt criminal. “Callie, I'm super behind with work.”

“Pleeeeasssseeee.” She starts with the begging again and then looks at Joe to inform him, “mommy’s a teacher. Do you have a job?”

Joe chuckles. “I do.”

“What do you do?” She asks in a sing-song tone. You give him that ‘I told you she never shuts up’ look. 

“I’m a professional wrestler.”

She’s clearly intrigued, asking, “are you actually good?”

“Callie!” This little girl and her lack of filter sometimes never ceases to amaze you. Your mom swears up and down it’s your payback from how blunt you were as a child. 

You’re starting to believe it.

Joe gives a shrug, clearly loving every bit of this. You can tell he wants her to keep the questions coming. He’ll answer em’ all if it means getting to spend time with her. “I’m alright.”

At that, you give him a look and crouch down to her level. “He’s very good.” You take the remote and quickly pause the TV, adding on, “matter of fact, he’s the universal undisputed champion.” Joe gives you a look, and you can tell he’s surprised by you knowing this piece of information.

You don’t watch wrestling as much as you used to, partially due to what happened between the two of you, mostly because you don’t have the time, but even non-wrestling people know about Roman Reigns and his current, historic title reign. You’re not sure if you’d feel entirely comfortable saying it to him, but you’re massively proud of Joe and all he’s accomplished. You always knew he could do it.

Her eyes widen with excitement and curiosity as she looks at Joe for clarification. “Really?”

“That is true.” 

Head tilted, she moves away from you and climbs on the sofa to sit next to him. Her little legs crossed over as she continues with the questions. “What does undis—undis—”

He helps her out, also angling his body more toward her. “Undisputed?” 

“Yeah! What does that mean?”

You can see he’s taking a minute to decide how to answer. “It means I don’t lose. Ever.”

“Whoooaaaa,” she breathes, obviously impressed. “You must eat a lot of veggies. I don’t like them, but mommy says they make you big and strong.”

“Your mom is right,” he agrees and looks her over. “You’re a very smart little girl. How old are you again? Like 15?”

“No, I’m four!” She giggles and lifts up four fingers. “But, I’ll be five on May 19th!”

His gaze softens. “Your birthday is in May?” She nods, happily. His smile is warm, emotional. “So is mine.”

You still for a moment. You hadn’t even thought about that, that her birthday was just days away from his. There’s something strangely sweet and moving about this fact, both to you and definitely to him.

“Really?” 

And that’s how it plays out for the rest of the day, a combination of Callie’s incessant questions, intermittent viewing of Moana and parts of Encanto. Lunch and dinner sprinkled somewhere in between. You’re even able to sneak off to do your lesson planning, Callie more than fine with just Joe to entertain her.

It warms your heart to see them connect almost instantaneously.

It’s why you wait as long as you can to interrupt, never wanting to do so, to invade their moment. But, you also know your daughter, know that she needs a certain amount of sleep to function the next day. And when you check in on them and catch her yawning, you know it’s unfortunately that time.

Sighing, you enter the living room with your arms crossed. “Callie Bear, it’s time to start getting ready for bed, mamas.”

“Nooo.” She whines. “I’m not tired.” Her groggy voice and scowl would indicate otherwise. 

“Of course, you’re not.” You bend down in front of her and reach for her hand. “Come on, we gotta tell Joe bye. He’s gotta get back to his hotel.” Despite her obvious objections, she climbs off the sofa and accepts your hand but not before looking at him. 

“Will you come over again tomorrow?” She asks with hopeful eyes and a voice of excitement, both things that make being honest with her that much harder.

He obviously doesn’t want to give her the truth, but it’s better than the alternative. With a frown, he answers, “I wish….but I’ve gotta get back to work tomorrow, Callie.”

Her smile drops, and sadness arises. “Why? Do you have to go?” Her quiet voice is comprised of disappointment and despondency. You can tell it hurts him. Her hope is dashed, replaced with sadness. “When will you come back?”

“As soon as he can.” You jump in to assist, hating the way he looks so devastated not having a specific date for her. Truth be told, you wouldn’t be surprised if he won’t be able to get away for another few weeks, if not more. “And you know what, you can use my iPad to Facetime him when he’s available anytime you want.”

Her eyes light up. “Really?” 

“Of course,” he assures. He reaches to push some hair out of her face. “I’ll call you whenever I can.”

She gives him a small smile. “You promise?” 

Joe swallows. “I promise, sweetheart.” 

Pleased and obviously ecstatic at this information, she surprises the both of you by tearing her hand from you to throw her little arms around him for an unexpected hug. You’re not sure why, but the sight makes your eyes water. His eyes close as he gently wraps his arms around her as well. You look away, almost uncomfortable interrupting this moment between the two of them.

When she pulls away, you swear you see disappointment reappear in his eyes. “Bye, Joe.” 

She returns to your side, and you gently direct her, “go put on your jammies and pick out a book. I’ll be right there in a few minutes, okay?” 

“Okay, mommy.” Without protest, she turns and heads back to her room. When it’s just the two of you, you turn to him, “she really likes you.” It feels silly saying such a thing. He’s her father. She should like him. She should love him.

But you also know better than anyone that being someone’s biological parent doesn’t automatically make them a parent. 

“That’s why you didn’t tell her, isn’t it? You want to gain her friendship first.” In watching and participating in the interaction between them, it dawned on you just why he didn’t tell her right away. Joe wanted to first establish a baseline with Callie, wanted her to get to know him just for him, to bond with him not because he was her dad, but because she wanted to. 

And clearly….clearly it worked. 

“She’s amazing,” he whispers. You see he’s still caught up in the emotion of it all, meeting his daughter for the first time, connecting with her as quickly and easily as he has.

“She is,” you agree, suddenly remembering why you’d dismissed Callie. “I–I uhh, I have something for you.” Standing back up—your knees were gonna hate you tomorrow—you pull the thumbdrive out of the back pocket of your jeans. He also stands with you. “I was that new mom who was intent on documenting every single thing my kid did, and I’m kinda glad I did now.” You reach and drop it in his open palm. “I got everything on video. Her first word, first time crawling, first time walking….all of it.” Suddenly uncomfortable with his silence, you add on, “I know it’s not the same as being there, but—”

“Thank you.” he interrupts in a quiet voice, immensely grateful to you at this moment. “Thank you, Y/N.” 

Emotion seems to be the keyword of the day, because yours are also all over the place, for a variety of reasons. It’s an experience that’s both overwhelming and confusing, but also….nice? You can’t necessarily describe it, but there’s something comforting about Joe having a role in Callie’s life.

But that doesn’t equate with your decision to not tell him about her in the first place, hence why you’re a hot ass, confused mess.

He’s making you feel things again, and you don’t like it. 

“I know getting back here won’t be easy, especially with the holidays rolling around. But, whenever you can come, you’re welcome. I mean it.” Thanksgiving is less than 3 weeks away. You’re highly doubtful he’ll be touching down before then. “Christmas is her favorite holiday. I know she’d love to have you here for that.”

“I’ll be back before Christmas and for Christmas.” You don’t know how, but you do know he’s convinced of it, and you don’t put it past him. He seems entirely determined. 

“Okay.” You walk him to the door, unsure why your bodies being so close to each other is an uncomfortable yet pleasing feeling. “Oh,” you suddenly remember something. “You need to make a Snapchat account.”

He scowls almost instantly. “A what?” A small laugh escapes you at his instant disgust. “I’m too old for that shit.”

“We both are, but it’s an easy way for me to share Callie and all her randomness with people. Make it and send me the username. I’ll add you.” It seems all it takes is for you to mention Callie, and he’s sold. He nods in agreement, all distaste washed away with the eagerness of receiving photos and videos of Callie on the regular. You keep your hand on the door, chewing on your lip, murmuring, “Goodnight, Joe.” 

He gives you a look, something unspoken in his eyes. “Goodnight, Y/N.” 

Closing the door behind you, you lock it and take a deep breath, unsure why your stomach is in knots. Not from anxiety or fear but happiness. 

You’re happy to have Joe back in your life, even with all of the bullshit that’s transpired in this single day. There’s something relieving about having him around, and you know it’s for Callie. It needs to be just for Callie, because what you can never do again is allow yourself to fall back into that situation. 

No matter how badly your heart and your head are clashing right now.

No matter how much you're starting to wonder if your heart ever really left that situation.

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x black!reader #aris notebook #roman reigns fic #roman reigns

[lambtotheslaughterr]

bitch!

A Rafe Cameron Oneshot

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 5.1k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

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all AI images are created from prompts i wrote. they are not real images.

Summary: Reader has been a no-good, money-hungry mean girl her whole life, but after moving to the city & being humbled by the impracticality of it all, she runs into an old face who is willing to provide her what she longs for most... that is if she is willing to give herself first.

            Living in the city wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. You were eager to move away from your hometown & embark on your first solo adventure. It wasn’t like there was really anything keeping you anyway. Your relationship with your parents was tumultuous, having been practically raised by the housemaid your whole life. And you had no true friends that would shed a tear about you leaving.

            At one point in your high school career, you thought the world was in your hands, but it wasn’t until graduating & realizing that you had no idea what you even wanted to do with your life that your world shrunk. You had been a mean girl in school, the stereotypical kind who only had people that surrounded you because of your money & looks. To you, that was everything. But when your senior year drew to a close, & your ‘friends’ began to stray, excited about their own college dreams & growing up & being independent, you learned quite harshly that your bad attitude only landed you in more loneliness.

            Now, you weren’t ignorant enough to believe that it wasn’t well-deserved, after all, you were quite the bully, but it still came as a surprise to you that once summer began you couldn’t keep your posse under thumb. They were becoming their own people.

            So, you thought to yourself that you’d show them. Show them that you could do better, be better, & not in the means of bettering your character, but your livelihood. You thought moving to a big city, like most small town teens dreamed about, would be the first step in outshining your former classmates. Your parents cared little about what you wanted to do, so it was easy enough to find an apartment in the city to your tastes. But once you were there, you had no clue what to do next.

            You tried applying to the local universities, wanting to earn yourself a distinguished degree that would certainly secure you a lavish future. But your applications were all denied. Apparently, not everything you wanted would drop into your lap. You were a straight B student in high school with no electives or real skills to show that you were worth a submission to any university, at least the ones with a reputation they cared to keep. And applying for scholarships proved much the same, your parents making way too much to qualify you for any admittance.

            So, with getting an education out of the question, even for a spoiled, snobby rich girl like yourself, you thought ‘what would be even greater than a degree’. Your answer? Fame.

            But in a city full of dreamers, the competition was fierce. You took some acting classes, thinking you, of course, would be a shoe in for the lifestyle, but you weren’t the only entitled pretty girl who had what it took to knock people out of your way. Any potential friends you could have made was quickly tarnished by the equally devious young women you competed against for small roles in television or film, all of you vying for your big break. After a couple months of many auditions with no call-backs & your competition spreading nasty rumors about you throughout the tough industry, you surprised even yourself when you called it quits.

            So the road to fame wasn’t your road to take. So what? You were never one to really give up on the luxurious plans you dreamt for yourself. But to get there, you had to resort to the path your mother once took that eventually landed her your wealthy father. You became a sugar baby.

            It was fun at first, ego-filling even—as if you really needed any more of that—but soon enough the novelty of it wore off. Yes, the men were more than happy to give you money & materialistic gifts as long as you were their date for a night or two, but it was you who failed to fill satisfied. After a year of being the sugar baby for a handful of men, you decided that you wanted a real relationship, even if it was just for the money & lavish lifestyle. But you refused to entertain those thoughts with any of the handy, elder men you babied for.

            What you wanted next was a wealthy young man with the world in his hands, much like how you held it when you were younger. But how to put yourself in their target path was a difficult one. You began with the dating apps, but those only proved to be catfishes or men who invested their money, not filled their wallets with it. Then you tried the up-scale clubs on the finer side of town where you lived. However, the men you met there, while young & rich & handsome, were proud bachelor’s & couldn’t be tied down. Every path you took to upkeep your lifestyle continued to prove to be a dead end.

            It wasn’t that your parents weren’t giving you an allowance, they were. A check came every month but it was only enough to really cover your rent, which was rather expensive. Everything else was up to you. So after a year of living in the city & you failed to get into school, failed to kick start a career in the entertainment industry, & failed to get a man to support your tastes, you swallowed your pride & got a job.

            Fortunately it was a nice job, meaning the reputation & vibe of the place would have been a place even you would visit. The position you secured was as a server. It was for a rooftop restaurant & bar that had regular clientele, a majority of them cut from the same cloth as you. In your first week, you then realized that you had been granted an opportunity. As long as you worked hard & pulled your weight in the fast-paced position, you were sure your pocket-full prince charming would come & whisk you away.

            Of course, you weren’t ignorant to what that made you out to be. After all, there was a special term for women similar to you: gold digger. But gold digger’s came from nothing. You didn’t. You just didn’t want it to be from your parents any longer.

            It was a slow night at your work, a Sunday night to be exact. It was 9:30 at night & the restaurant would close at 10. You were in the middle of polishing some silverware at a booth in the corner when one of the bartender’s whistled at you, stealing your attention.

            You made a face, clearly annoyed that they whistled instead of walked over, but they nodded their head in the direction of a table near the windows. A single man sat by himself, waiting to be waited on.

            “Seriously?” You mumbled under your breath, knowing the restaurant closed in 30 minutes. If he ordered food, the kitchen was going to be pissed off & it was going to be closed in 30 minutes. If he ordered food, the kitchen was going to be pissed off & it was going to be you they took it out on.

            Swallowing your annoyance, you stood up, rubbing out the wrinkles of your black waist-apron & black blouse before crossing the restaurant to the lone man.

            As you grew closer, he glanced up, having sensed your approach, but you very subtly paused in your step, recognizing those eyes & that face.

            Great. You reeled internally. This was going to be humiliating.

            “Good evening,” You greeted, faking your sweetest smile, “can I get you started with a glass of wine? I recommend—”

            “A beer would be fine.” He smirked up at you, “Whatever’s on top.”

            You pressed your lips together, suppressing your irritation, “Right away.”

            Spinning on your heel, you went up to the bar to lean over the fine wood & place your order with the bartender. As the bartender began to fill a glass, he spoke to you over his shoulder, “You alright?”

            Despite working there for some time, you never made any friends among your coworkers. You were known as ‘that girl’, or in more obvious terms ‘that bitch’.

            “Yes.” You replied tersely, not wanting to entertain a conversation when you were already on edge.

            The bartender placed a 20 oz beer on the bar near your hand, “Just askin’. You looked like you were dreading talking to the guy.”

            “Just someone I used to know.” You muttered, a lilt on the edge of your tone.

            “Yeah? How’s that?”

            Snatching the beer, you gave your coworker a sneer of a smile, “None of your business.”

            Walking away with the beer, you were sure to flick your hair over your shoulder.

            It was true, though. The man who sat waiting for his beer was someone you used to know. His name was Rafe Cameron, & he was from your hometown. If you were the queen of the hallways in your high school, Rafe Cameron was king. You two weren’t exactly friends, or even close for that matter, but you ran the same circle & attended the same parties & did plenty of coke together. But you knew very little about him otherwise.

            “Your beer.” You announced, placing it on the table before him, “Have you decided on what you want to eat?”

            “Sirloin. 8oz. Medium-rare.” He replied coolly & cockily, a trademark of his he you knew well.

            Yup, the cooks were gonna eat you alive.

            “Alrighty.” Turning away from him, you crossed to the far end of the bar where your POS system was & punched in the order. As you heard the ticket machine in the kitchen behind the bar chitter out, you also didn’t miss the groans of the cooks.

            “Fucking kidding me?” A voice sounded. You rolled your eyes. It’s not like it was your fault you had to do your job.

            Returning back to Rafe’s table, you placed down a steak knife before telling him his food would be out in ten minutes. But just as you were about to depart to go back to polishing silverware, Rafe’s voice halted you.

            “So, this is what you’re doing now, huh?” He commented, that familiar judgmental drawl in his voice.

            You paused to turn & face him, “Yup. Living the life.”

         ��  Of course, you couldn’t show your own dissatisfaction, having a spine to up-keep in the face of old acquaintances, but you knew as well as Rafe did that people like the two of you could always see through other’s bullshit.

            “I gotta say, I’m surprised. Never expected _____ _____, of all people, to wait on others. It’s not in our blood. But I guess I forget about where your mom comes from.”

            The insult was apparent. You narrowed your eyes, “And you’re still an asshole that gets a hard on from bullying others. Shocker.”

            Rafe smirked at that, leaning forward so his elbows were on the table as he peered up at you, “Wasn’t so long ago you were bullying them alongside me.”

            “Things change.” You lied through your teeth.

            “I doubt that.”

            Rolling your eyes, completely done with the conversation & dick measuring contest, you marched away. As you continued polishing the silverware, you felt Rafe’s eyes on you from across the restaurant. You made it apparent that you would not be indulging in a stare-off as you shifted your head so your hair blocked him in your peripheral. But after a few minutes, you heard the familiar dinging of a bell emanating from the kitchen, alerting you to food being ready.

            Still ignoring Rafe’s trailing of you, you marched to the kitchen window behind the bar & began gathering the plate & side. The head cook glared at you through the gap in the wall, “Mind not accepting more orders? We’re nearly finished back here.”

            You puckered your lower lip, feigning sympathy, “No promises, customer looks hungry so I think I’ll drop a dessert menu at his table.”

            You grinned wryly to yourself as you walked away, the bitching & insults of the cooks fading behind you.

            Back at Rafe’s table, you avoided his eyes as you set his meal down, “Enjoy your meal.”

            “When are you off?” His question took you by surprise. You were quick to hide your shock with a firm response, “When I feel like it.”

            You were about to walk away but a hand reached out & snagged your wrist, “Want to get a drink later?”

            Ripping your arm from his grip, you sneered down at him, “I’d rather drink bleach.”

            Walking away from him, you gathered the polished silverware from your booth in the corner & took them to the kitchen. The cooks grumbled & glared as you entered the back but you ignored them. Your shift ended at 10 & the clock on the wall read 9:48. It wouldn’t be the first time you clocked-out early, & you knew you’d get another talk to about doing so, but you didn’t care. You had dealt with enough assholes for one day.

            Surpassing the kitchen to a back hallway, you entered the women’s locker room. At your locker, you swung it open & begin pulling out your clothes. After changing & putting your uniform back in the locker, you put on your jacket & hung your purse over your shoulder. By the time you left the locker room, the cooks had cleared out from the kitchen. You re-entered the main part of the restaurant, intending on clocking out without saying another word to Rafe. You’d get your tip from serving him in the morning. But as you unwillingly peered in his direction, his table was empty.

            “Where’s…?”

            The bartender followed your line of sight, shrugging, “He wanted a box. Paid then left.”

            “Oh.” You breathed out, evidently relieved you wouldn’t have to see or hear from him.

            “Here.” The bartender handed you the familiar black plastic plate that held a receipt.

            Rafe’s payment.

            You accepted the plate & approached the POS system. You were pulling up his tab, preparing to enter the tip he left when you only realized just then that he had left none. Instead, on the tip line where you at least expected to see a 20% tip, was just a frowny face.

            “Asshole!” You slammed the plastic plate down.

            “What’s wrong?” The bartender asked from a few feet away.

            Turning your glare onto him, you just shook your head, “Nothing.”

            He raised his brows in disbelief but didn’t question further.

            Tossing the receipt into a nearby trash, you angrily clocked out, waving your hand in dismissal as the bartender threw you a parting greeting. In the elevator, you felt your foot tapping irritably.

            That fucking prick. You grumbled internally.

            Once the elevator doors opened on the ground floor of the building, you stomped out, pulling your jacket tighter against you as you approached the main doors. It was late autumn & the weather was wicked outside. Fortunately, it was only two blocks to your apartment building, so you wouldn’t be in the heavy, chilly rain for long.

            But just as you exited the building, your chin tucked into your chest, you heard your name being called. Pausing on the street & peering through the rainwater that had collected in your eyes, you spotted a sleek black Mercedes idling beside you in the street. Rafe Cameron sat behind the wheel.

            “How ‘bout that drink?”

            With his lack of a tip on top of you’re already bad mood, you stomped forward to lean into his passenger window, his untouched leftovers in the passenger seat.

            “How ‘bout you take that steak & choke on it!” You sneered.

            But Rafe only chuckled amusingly at that, “Still as fiery as ever.”

            Tearing yourself away from his car, you began to walk away, but the light hum of a car’s engine continued to follow.

            “Oh, c’mon. I was only giving you a hard time! I’ll still give you a tip.”

            “Fuck you.” You hollered back through the rain, no longer interested in his tip.

            “Well, that’s one way to tip, I’ll admit, just didn’t think it was how you preferred getting paid.”

            His suggestive retort was not lost on you. But you refused to react. It’s what he wanted.

            “C’mon!” Rafe laughed jovially from the warm & dry confines of his car, “I was just kidding! Hey, how ‘bout this?”

            You rolled your eyes, wishing more than anything he’d pop a tire or run out of gas, but no such things ever happened.

            “You come have a drink with me, & I’ll give you your well-deserved tip.”

            You shook your head, smiling unimpressively to yourself.

            “No?” Rafe called out, “How ‘bout $500?”

            Now that, that made you stop in your tracks. You finally looked at him, narrowing your eyes suspiciously.

            He only smiled charmingly.

            “What’s the catch?” You questioned, not wanting to fully reveal that your time could indeed be bought for a measly $500, but it would give you means to go out & shop on your next day off, something you hadn’t done in quite some time.

            “No catch.” Rafe shrugged, “Just the pleasure of your company & catching up with an old friend.”

            “’Friend’ is a generous term.” You commented sucking your lip in between your teeth in contemplation.

            “Interested or not?”

            You sighed. He couldn’t have all the power, you couldn’t give in so easily.

            “Make it $1000 & you have yourself a deal.”

            Rafe scoffed at that but his grin only grew wider, “Thinking highly of yourself still, I see.”

            You stepped forward, your arms crossed over your chest, “Interested or not?” You repeated his question with ten times the attitude.

            A tense, challenging stare-off occurred as Rafe eyed you deep in thought. Then, just when you thought he would back out of the deal & you’d lose yourself $500, he moved his leftovers from the passenger seat to the back seat.

            “Hop in.”

            A winning smile appeared on your face.

            One drink quickly turned into two. Then three. Then four, & after that you stopped keeping count, too inebriated to do so. Your bitchy & sassy attitude disappearing with every sip until all that was left was a sad & lonesome young woman.

            Rafe insisted on driving you home & you didn’t have the energy to argue. Besides, you were so drunk that you were regrettably dependent on him to get you home, not nearly sober enough to trust yourself to get the job done.

            He found a convenient spot in front of your building & you were forced to lean into him as he helped you into the lobby of your building. At that point you had trusted in your own abilities to get yourself the rest of the way up to your apartment but said nothing as Rafe helped you into the elevator before pressing a button for the 12th floor. You drunkenly frowned at that, not remembering having told him what floor you lived on. But the thought came & went & before you knew it your floor had arrived.

            Rafe carried you against him as he led the way to your door without asking which one was yours. Another red flag raised in your mind but you shook it away. You must’ve said something at point in your alcohol-riddled brain. You leaned against the wall, reaching into your purse to fetch your keys but Rafe snagged the bag away from you, seeking them out himself. You peered at him through blurry vision as he sunk the keys into your door & swung it open.

            Your apartment was a studio but luxurious enough to your tastes. As you stumbled forward into the kitchen, desperate for some water, you vaguely heard as Rafe closed the door behind the two of you, locking it.

            His presence was no longer necessary but you didn’t trust yourself to say anything, knowing your speech would be embarrassingly slurred.

            As you filled a glass with water from the sink, you felt a shadow appear behind you before a pair of hands found themselves on your hips & a warm set of lip began kissing along the side of your neck.

            Your eyes widened at the unexpected come-on. As best as you could, you slithered out of Rafe’s grasp, subtly pushing him away. You placed the glass on the counter & glared at him.

            “What are you… what are you doing?”

            Rafe chuckled lightly at that, reaching for the top of your jacket & shoving it off you, “Getting my money’s worth.”

            You’d be lying if you didn’t admit that his warm body pressed against yours & how his feather-light kisses going across your collarbone felt sinfully good, but it was his comment that forced you to shove him back harder.

            “Speaking of,” you stabilized yourself against the counter, “pay up.”

            Rafe sighed but reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, revealing a wad of cash before tossing it onto the counter.

            The sound of the money slapping against your granite countertop was music to your ears. And it was all because you had a drink with a face from the past. You reached for the wad, intending on counting it but Rafe’s body pressed against your own once more, his hands deftly reaching for the hem of your crop top.

            “Stop.” You grumbled, wriggling in his grip, your only care at that moment being for the money.

            “It’s all there.” He said lowly, his lips kissing along your jawline.

            “Ugh.” You made a sound of disgust when his tongue darted out to graze against the corner of your mouth.

            Alright, enough was enough.

            Using what little strength you had left, you shoved Rafe again, though this time much harder. He stumbled backwards & into your fridge, shaking the grocery objects on top of it.

            “The fuck is your problem?” He growled in disbelief.

            “I’m not a fucking whore.” You spit out, glaring hotly at him, “You said it was for a drink, I had a drink. You can leave now.”

            Rafe’s eyes darkened at that as he stared at you. He pursed his lips then in irritation before reaching into his jacket once more. He produced another wad of money.

            “Another $1000, that enough?”

            You felt your heart quicken at what he was suggesting.

            “No.” You responded as a pulsing started in your head. Damnit, you shouldn’t have drank as much as you had. “You couldn’t pay me enough to sleep with the likes of you.”

            “The likes of me?” His brows raised in mild shock. “You mean someone with money? Isn’t that what you’re after? Someone to support your lifestyle?”

            Well, yes, but you wouldn’t admit that to him of all people. And even if you had, you wouldn’t choose Rafe fucking Cameron to be your provider. It had occurred to you once before that you could always return home & seduce someone from the island, much like your mother had, but you wanted better than that. And Rafe Cameron was not better.

            “Keep your money.” You snarled, “Now leave.”

            Rafe bit his lip at that, shaking his head knowingly, “You & I both know I didn’t pay you $1000 for a fucking drink. I want one thing from you & you’re going to give it to me.”

            His confession had your stomach twisting into knots, but you couldn’t show your fear or discomfort.

            “No. A deal’s a deal. If you wanted more you should’ve been clearer.”

            Rafe scoffed at that, “I offered you another grand & you spit in my face.”

            “Like I said,” you glowered, “I’m not a whore.”

            “Please, _____.” Rafe’s tone shifted as if he was explaining a complex concept to a child, “It runs in your blood.”

            Boiling over with anger & motivated by the alcohol coursing your veins, you snatched his $1000 off the counter & threw it at him, “Then taking your fucking money.”

            His face darkened as the wad of cash hit him square in the chest before dropping to the ground, $100 dollar bills littering your kitchen floor.

            “I don’t want my money.” His eyes glared into your own, “I want you on your fucking back.”

            Before you could react, Rafe closed the distance between the two of you, catching you by the throat as he dragged you from the kitchen to your bed nestled in a corner at the farthest end of your studio.

            You landed on top of your bed with a resounding ‘oomph’ before Rafe shrugged his jacket off & climbed on top of you.

            “Fucking stop it!” You raised your voice, your hands reaching blindly out to resist against him.

            “Ya know, I was always curious about you in high school.” Rafe began as he wrestled with your raised arms, “Such a spoiled brat that had nothing to offer. I thought there had to be more to you, something that wasn’t predictable but I guess I was wrong. You’re just like your whore mother, thinking you’re just as upper-class as the rest of us, but you’re not. You’re a fucking phony. All you want is a man with money to take care of you.”

            You couldn’t help the whimpers that came from you as Rafe fought with you to get your jeans off.

            “I don’t need anyone!” You hollered.

            “Oh, yes you do.” Rafe retorted harshly, “I’ve been watching you for a month now, having spotted you working that pitiful job of yours when I was there on a date. And I saw in you what your father saw in your mother. A poor little thing desperate for the finer things in life. Laughing & flirting your way into better tips & potentially a man. It was so obvious, so pathetic.”

            He had been watching you. The admittance scared you more than you liked to admit.

            “So, I figured ‘why not me’? At least for a while. Get my kicks in while you thought naively to yourself that I would supplement your tastes for however long. All I wanted was a taste, a way to knock you down a bit, but no, you even had the balls to reject me.”

            A shudder parted your lips as you felt your jeans get ripped completely off you before Rafe began reaching for his own, his hand pressing against the center of your chest, holding you securely against your plush mattress.

            “Me?” Rafe laughed maniacally, “I’m not even good enough for you?”

            Reluctant tears forced their way out as your heart raced. This was really happening.

            “You’re such a fucking….” Rafe paused to glare down at you with evident contempt, “bitch!”

            A shrill scream tore from your throat but Rafe covered your mouth with his hand as he nestled himself between your legs. He didn’t even bother removing your underwear, just tugged them to the side, the elastic of them digging into the sensitive skin there as he forced his cock against your entrance.

            You beat your fists against his back but it had no effect. And before you knew it, a white hot pain flashed before your eyes as Rafe tore into you, your hymen ripping in the process.

            Rafe released a tense groan as he stilled above you, realization coming over him as he felt your untouched cunt fill with blood around him.

            “Wow.” He breathed in mild surprise, “I’m honored.”

            You kept crying, whimpering under his hand as he began to thrust, his movements harsh & painful against your pulsing center. Your walls were dry & burned with every stretch as he made himself a home within you.

            He leaned down then, his lips hot against your skin as he kissed, licked, & nipped along your shoulder. Your vision blurred from the tears as you could only lie there & take it as he fucked you against your will.

            You never had any idealized fantasies about when you would first have sex, not one of those foolish young girls who dreamt about saving themselves for ‘the right one’, but you did want to at least save your first time to be with someone who would be your end all. The idea of giving it to just anyone never sat well with you, even if it was what your mother had done for years before landing your father. And you loathed being anything like her, even if you knew deep down that you were exactly like her.

            Rafe’s groans filled the studio space of your apartment & you desperately sought out anything else to distract yourself from the reality of your situation. Your eyes blinked through tears as you finally eyed the window above your bed. It was still raining outside but it had lightened at that point. Droplets dribbled down the pane of the glass. Your eyes would latch onto one, watching as it disappeared near the bottom before finding another, repeating the habit.

            It felt like you were watching rain beat lightly against your window for hours before Rafe finally came. He fisted his hands in your hair, earning you a silent gasp as your body pulsed from his rough ministrations. He shuddered on top of you before collapsing against you.

            You shook beneath him, licking at your dry parted lips, willing yourself to fall into a deep sleep & forget any of it had ever happened. But just as you felt your consciousness begin to sleep from exhaustion, Rafe chuckled against your neck.

            “That was…something.” He pushed him upwards, your legs immediately pressing against one another the second he stood from the bed.

            He gathered his jacket from the floor & put it back on, eyeing you in the dimly lit interior of your apartment as you stared unfeelingly at your ceiling.

            A soft thud sounded by your head & you blinked, eyeing whatever was just thrown beside you. The second wad of $1000.

            “Worth every penny.” Rafe commented, but followed it with salt for your literal open wound, “Though I’ve had better.”

            You winced.

            Sighing to himself, he stared out your window for some time before finally looking back at your used & abused form lying still on your bed.

            “I already know you won’t run crying to mommy & daddy, let alone the cops, but just know that if you do, I’ve got more money where that came from. Much more. And you don’t want to be the sad little thing that cried ‘rape’ just to have it brushed under the carpet, do you?”

            Rafe caught your jaw, forcing you to look at him. He feigned concern, “That would just be embarrassing.”

            With what little energy you had left, you yanked your head from his grip, turning your back on him as you curled into a fetal position.

            “Hmm.” Rafe exhaled heavily, his eyes burning into the center of your back, “Well, thanks for your time, _____. We should do it again soon.”

            The possibility made you nauseous.

            “After all, I know where you work. And live.” There was a devilish lilt to his tone, “So, don’t go far. I may get hungry for seconds.”

this is 8/10 requests from my 500 followers celebration request opening!

big thank you to the anon who requested. anon, please share w me your feedback<3

as always, please drop a comment, reblog w reviews, or talk to me via ask box with your thoughts/feelings.

thank you for reading!

oona<3

Read this post on why doing more than liking a tumblr writers work is essential to our content creation.

[my love language is words of affirmation, it would make my day if you could comment your thoughts, reblog with tags, or drop an ask that shows your support. thank you for reading tumblr writers, we appreciate you]

taglist: @jsrafesgirl @bunnycvnts @ditzyzombiesblog

to be added to a taglist read rule 11 here. requests will be dismissed otherwise.

#dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #dark!fic #dark!fanfiction #non con fic #outer banks fanfiction #dark!outer banks #bitch!

[anothersuperstition]

new comprehensive (long, so sorry) commission post!! i lost my job a couple months ago (turns out the office manager is literally evil and she set me up to get fired on purpose :D) so commissions and my freelance work are my main source of income rn and every single extra comm helps!!

i’ve also been trying to take advantage of my free time and use it to grow as an artist and practice things i normally don’t so i would love to try some more nonstandard comms alongside tattoos!

as always line art only tattoo designs are $50 flat (*edit to say line art only FLASH tattoo designs), full color tattoo designs and everything else offered (portraits in any style, illustrations, posters) are all unique and prices will depend on content so if you’re interested or if you’ve got an idea and you’re not sure i can do it, feel free to shoot me a message for more info!!

examples of my work! (please open the images for full view i’m bad at formatting) ⬇️

posters! from show specific, to movie posters inspired by your fave albums or songs! (does not have to be mcr i just have brain worms)

tattoos! from small flash designs to full scale, neo trad or line work or anything in between!

illustrations! full page, comic-inspired, small and stylized (gerard way style inspiration optional!), you name it!

portraits!! these are my favorite to do and i never get to do them! pencil or painting, if sketchy and painterly are your thing i can do that! if cleaned up and smooth are your thing i can also do that!

so sorry for the novel length post, i hate doing it as much as you all hate seeing it, but a girl’s gotta pay the bills! tumblr is where i first found my footing as someone who was taking commissions and i’m allergic to social media these days but tumblr still feels as comfy as it did back then and i appreciate everyone who has been kind and supportive to me here over the years!! even reblogs help, thanks y’all!!

#i’ve got some things lined up this summer but they simply do me no good right now #anyways! tags for visibility i’m so sorry #art #digital art #illustration #mcr #my chemical romance #tattoo #traditional tattoo #lord of the rings #mine #arty art

[fanficfish]

explaining characters in hetalia badly: family member archtype edition

an incomplete list for funsies

just imagine they're all at a big family reunion lol

Germany: The closeted cousin who still hasn't figured it out.

Prussia: The cool older cousin who's jacked up on the remnants of the energy drinks he chugged during finals week trying to study for his med school exams. Probably specialized in kids medicine, but he's too jittery to confirm.

Italy V: The cousin who's a cousin because someone married someone a couple months ago and has no idea about all the ettiquette rules ye and what not to discuss in front of Great Aunt Sarah.

China: Great Aunt Sarah

Italy R: The cousin who's just hit his highschool years, and has decided MHA and Valorant is his whole personality.

England: The one manning the grill.

France: The one actually manning the grill.

America: The guy who's young enough to be your older brother but old enough that he's a dad. Don't worry, he's cool- he won't make you babysit, but he's gonna show up with those kids in biker jackets and they'll do a fun dance to entertain everyone halfway through dinner.

Russia: The uncle that apparently is a war vet. Definitely saw things he shouldn't have seen and you don't leave your kids with him. Tells the wildest stories over dinner though.

Canada: The cousin who you forget exists because he's actually normal.

Japan: The one hiding in a room playing video games. He might share if you ask nicely.

Lithuania: Someone's spouse. Not sure whose, but he made a nice caserole.

Sweden: That one distant relative who you almost forgot to invite.

Finland: The guy who showed up and you're not sure where he came from, but he's kinda fun so no one questions it.

Norway: The one who was forced to tag along with the rest of the family.

Iceland: The one who pretends he doesn't want to be there but he'd show up even if he wasn't invited because the food is kinda good.

Denmark: The one bringing the alcohol and manning the bar you didn't kow you had.

Latvia: The one trying to sneak underage drinks.

Estonia: The one pretending to be a normal person with his "honor student" and "full ride scholarship next year" but is secretly helping Latvia sneak a drink.

Spain: The uncle who's been married ten times.

Switzerland: The one who only showed up because he was begged to. Either ends up in the corner watching the game or in the middle of the table retelling some grand tale.

Liechtenstein: The one bringing all the delicious deserts and a fruit tray and forced Switzerland to socialize.

Austria: The one insisting on putting on the radio the moment the "go ahead" for the food is said. Might have even called up everyone to remind them to bring their instruments.

Hungary: The one who gets everyone dancing the moment Austria whips out the fiddle tunes.

Seychelles: The one who innocently suggested a board game after the dance-off winds down.

Hong Kong: The cousin who sticks around long enough to say hello to the aunts and uncles and grandparents and get some food before hiding in the room with Japan.

Belarus: The cousin who's a movie-cutter highschool "popular girl" and spends the whole time on her phone texting her boyfriend.

Ukraine: The aunt that break up the board game fights and bans it from future events.

Luxenberg: You don't know what he does for a living, but he brings cool stuff for everyone.

Netherlands: The globetrotting uncle who you're pretty sure knows everyone and everything.

Belgium: The cool aunt who's single and living life.

Phillipines and Thailand: The fresh-out-of-collegers cousin who keeps taking photos of everything.

Malaysia: The fresh-out-of-colleger cousin also taking photos but only aesthetic ones.

Taiwan: The aunt that starts making smoothies unprompted.

Monaco: The cousin who brings a book to read in the corenr.

Cameron: The uncle you don't want to get into an argument about sports with. Switzerland does not head this warning.

Greece: The uncle who drove all day and night to get here with a full car, and is now knocked out on the couch.

Turkey: The funny wine grandpa.

Cyprus: The college dropout who now works at a seven-eleven.

Egypt: The cousin who's studying history and is pretty average except you have photographic evidence that he sat next to a pond and talked to ducks for half an hour and was very serious about it.

#hetalia #hetalia headcanons #hetalia hc #aph #hws #hetalia world stars

[loveofmylouis]

.

#I got an amazing like out of this world job offer today #like one that I didn’t even think was possible at this point in my career because I don’t graduate until next month #like I’m shocked about it #it’s supposed to be confidential but this is tumblr so anyways I’ve been in the dental assisting program for the past year and I’ll be done #in a few weeks #and I also have a previous associates degree and my last professor texted me earlier this week asking me to meet with her Friday #and I’ve honestly been terrified all week because I could only think it would be bad news #but she freaking offered me a job teaching dental assisting at the college with her #I’m shocked #teaching dental assisting and I’m not even graduated yet I’m the literal definition of flabbergasted #it would only be part time as an adjunct but I’d still be making almost double an hour than I would as a dental assistant #and I could also since it’s only part time be a temp traveling dental assistant #so it’s like an amazing opportunity #but I’d be so nervous about it because I know nothing about teaching and teaching people your age seems so weird and stressful #she gave me a couple of weeks to think about it so I’ll definitely be thinking #it’s a great opportunity but I’m scared she has too much faith in me #but she did say she’s been teaching this program for 19 years and has never approached a student with something like this #so it’s really like once in a lifetime #I’m leaning towards yes but I’ll definitely need to think more about it #the only downside is if I wanted to go on to do it full time I’d need to get a bachelors degree which shouldn’t be too hard I have a lot of #credits to would tranfer #I think typing this has made me lean even more towards yes #but I had to share I can’t really tell anyone else besides people close to me

[pussymasterdooku]

.

#today on: Allie Liveblogs Her Parents’ Divorce: #two and a half fucking hour long phone call with my dad about how he thinks my mom is the problem #in the INSANE dynamic they have going on with his 24 year old lesbian employee who is LIVING WITH THEMMMMMMM #and him doing his signature I Am Just A Reasonable Man Perceiving The Situation Objectively shtick #us both mouthing I WILL KILL YOU!!!!!!!! at the phone #ohhhhhh he wanted us to say she should just get over her frustration and then there wouldn’t be a problem #and she shouldn’t be frustrated in the first place because the problems Aren’t Even Legitimate Problems Because They Could Be Worse #and like. my mom has been bringing up divorce to us since 2019 and he has expressed that he wants to improve the marriage recently #and they uh. got married due to a miscommunication and are entirely incompatible LOL like i’ve been Trying but this call made me feel like… #Its So Over My Dudes #but apparently he thinks their marriage is NOT on thin ice it’s a 9/10 #revised to ‘idk MAYBE it’s an 8/10’ when he told us he doesn’t think. in 34 years. they have ever had a two sided conversation… #they Have Never Once Had A Conversation by his recounting. thats not true but it IS an insane thing to say STEVE #ohhhhhh he makes me mad ohhhhh i’ve been in my Dad Anger era for a couple months and he brought it to the SURFACE tonight babey!!!!!!!!! #ohhhhhhhh he does not respect his wife he does not try to understand her he does not think of her as a real person #and i mean. she’s nuts and takes her feelings out on everyone around her!!! she is only just now seeking to manage her adhd #but she tries so hard for him and he’s just. full of shit and i’m sick of him. ok cutting myself off but this has been: #ALHPD #which will be the tag now ig if anyone wants to mute LOL #ohhhhhhhhhh this has dealt me so much psychic damage i have so much evil energy now lmao #ohhhhhh 🔪🔪🔪👨🏻🪚🪚🪚 #🔨🔨🔨🔨 #🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈 #ok that’s all

[ghosty1111]

DID is so silly bc alters can also have DID as a coping mech and have their own alters bc of it

#ive been coming to terms with that more so in the past year #that systems can have systems inside them #but also for those who dont know. once your brain splits and forms DID it becomes incredibly easy to split and make new alters #not just everytime something traumatic happens. sometimes just by being influenced by something. #which is what leads for some people to have to many alters #when your brain has DID it has a hard time 'relating' to emotions/characters as a single person #and in order to process that it treats them like different brains #which in turn develop into their own people #fragments;emotional/trait split of an alter #introject;a person/character from an outside source #they dont have to form into full alters always. sometimes they stay underdeveloped #also when people say they have like 10+ alters they dont always mean they all equally front #alters can show up for like a couple minutes every couple months/years sometimes #but usually theres only a handful that frequently front for long periods of time #SORRY I LIKE EDUCATING ABT THIS STUFF😭 coping mech of infodumping abt my mental shit #these tages arent even abt the actual post oops

[coffeebanana]

gah. i don't mind my new job but being on my feet all day sucks away my energy to write and i don't want to write before work on days when i start later because the little "you start work in X hours" voice in my head won't let me focus, and even on days off i spend too much time just trying to relax/get in the mood/tidy up and there goes the energy again. today i ALMOST got into the groove of editing but then i got distracted and ugh. i just miss when writing was easier

#kayla rants #it's only been a month and i only just started full-time hours #so hopefully i'll get used to it and find a new groove #i know i've been super lucky the last couple years to have so much writing time and that having to balance that with work is NORMAL #and i chose to do this with my life #but it still sucks. #writing's feeling more draining than energising lately. #something's gotta give and it can't be my mental health so it might have to be writing for a while but i don't want to give that up?? #then it's also like...if i do take a break from writing what then? this is how i spent so much of the last couple years and i loved it #i guess it's just. hard to let go of something that helped so much even if it starts hurting you? idk

[toastsnaffler]

I have to be up for work in 3 hours and I'm gonna be real I think ive hit the point where I might not be getting any sleep at all. for fucks sake.

#ive survived all nighters before ill scrape through the day itll just be Rough. at least i dont have much in my schedule #im not gonna take the dose this morning bc i think thats a really bad idea to do on zero hours sleep #and i can't risk two consecutive all nighters. like I have done that before but not while working full time 💀 its not worth it #drafting an email to my doctor to let her know im skipping day 2 + ask advice re. whether its worth resuming again on day 3 #bc she did list 'trouble sleeping' as a common symptom that often passes but i need to know a) how long it usually takes to pass and- #b) if this is unusually bad + would she rec supplementing with a sleep aid or just switching tack entirely and trialling a non stimulant #by this stage of the night i dont think its actually acting anymore bc i took it at 7am and its now 3am. it shouldnt last that long #i think its more just triggered my preexisting insomnia. my ability to sleep is very very sensitive sometimes + hates routine changes #just so fucking frustrating bc ive spent the past 2 months nailing my sleep routine + ive had a couple weeks of being able to- #go to bed like 9:30-10 and it only takes an hour to get to sleep and i get usually a good 7 hours sometimes 8 only waking once halfway #and i dont feel like utter shit like yeah im tired but from work not so much lack of sleep.... and now thats all fucked lmao #whatever. maybe i should just take the next dose anyway #ill see. gonna try to sleep for another 2 hours but once it hits 5 im not doing this anymore ive been trying for six hours already man #i cant even remember when i last pulled a full all nighter. it might be longer than 6 months ago... i was doing so well :-( #im so mad i was so hopeful it would have SOME good effect like ik its not a miracle worker + these things take time but so many people- #seem to have an immediate positive response even if its probably a placebo. and i got fuck all except This. #i was searching on the reddit for sleep issues and other ppl only seem to report bad ones on higher doses or years in.. #like damn. do i even have adhd then. ik thats a stupid thing to think bc obvs everyones body metabolises meds differently etc but still #it is ALMOST HALF 3 and i am FUCKING TIRED #UGH. alright bedtime round 189447383 #.diaries #.vent

[fiercynn]

on ao3's current fundraiser

apparently it’s time for ao3’s biannual donation drive, which means it’s time for me to remind you all, that regardless of how much you love ao3, you shouldn’t donate to them because they HAVE TOO MUCH MONEY AND NO IDEA WHAT TO DO WITH IT.

we’ve known for years that ao3 – or, more specifically, the organization for transformative works (@transformativeworks on tumblr), or otw, who runs ao3 and other fandom projects – has a lot of money in their “reserves” that they had no plans for. but in 2023, @manogirl and i did some research on this, and now, after looking at their more recent financial statements, i’ve determined that at the beginning of 2024, they had almost $2.8 MILLION US DOLLARS IN SURPLUS.

our full post last year goes over the principles of how we determined this, even though the numbers are for 2023, but the key points still stand (with the updated numbers):

when we say “surplus”, we are not including money that they estimate they need to spend in 2024 for their regular expenses. just the extra that they have no plan for

yes, nonprofits do need to keep some money in reserves for emergencies; typically, nonprofits registered in the u.s. tend to keep enough to cover between six months and two years of their regular operating expenses (meaning, the rough amount they need each month to keep their services going). $2.8 million USD is enough to keep otw running for almost FIVE YEARS WITHOUT NEW DONATIONS

they always overshoot their fundraisers: as i’m posting this, they’ve already raised $104,751.62 USD from their current donation drive, which is over double what they’ve asked for! on day two of the fundraiser!!

no, we are not trying to claim they are embezzling this money or that it is a scam. we believe they are just super incompetent with their money. case in point: that surplus that they have? only earned them $146 USD in interest in 2022, because only about $10,000 USD of their money invested in an interest-bearing account. that’s the interest they earn off of MILLIONS. at the very least they should be using this extra money to generate new revenue – which would also help with their long-term financial security – but they can’t even do that

no, they do not need this money to use if they are sued. you can read more about this in the full post, but essentially, they get most of their legal services donated, and they have not, themselves, said this money is for that purpose

i'm not going to go through my process for determining the updated 2024 numbers because i want to get this post out quickly, and otw actually had not updated the sources i needed to get these numbers until the last couple days (seriously, i've been checking), but you can easily recreate the process that @manogirl and i outlined last year with these documents:

otw’s 2022 audited financial statement, to determine how much money they had at the end of 2022

otw’s 2024 budget spreadsheet, to determine their net income in 2023 and how much they transferred to and from reserves at the beginning of 2024

otw’s 2022 form 990 (also available on propublica), which is a tax document, and shows how much interest they earned in 2022 (search “interest” and you’ll find it in several places)  

also, otw has not been accountable to answering questions about their surplus. typically, they hold a public meeting with their finance committee every year in september or october so people can ask questions directly to their treasurer and other committee members; as you can imagine, after doing this deep dive last summer, i was looking forward to getting some answers at that meeting!

but they cancelled that meeting in 2023, and instead asked people to write to the finance committee through their contact us form online. fun fact: i wrote a one-line message to the finance committee on may 11, 2023 through that form, when @manogirl and i were doing this research, asking them for clarification on how much they have in their reserves. i have still not received a response.

so yeah. please spend your money on people who actually need it, like on mutual aid requests! anyone who wants to share their mutual aid requests, please do so in the replies and i’ll share them out – i didn’t want to link directly to individual requests without permission in case this leads to anyone getting harassed, but i would love to share your requests. to start with, here's operation olive branch and their ongoing spreadsheet sharing palestinian folks who need money to escape genocide.

oh, and if you want to write to otw and tell them why you are not donating, i'm not sure it’ll get any results, but it can’t hurt lol. here's their contact us form – just don’t expect a response! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#ao3 #otw #archive of our own #organization for transformative works #ao3 is not your savior #and they don't need your money #otw finances

[champagnefountains]

LUCIFER MAGNE - H.H.

Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.

Genre: Angst and hurt; somewhat fluffy (but only for a brief while). Warnings: Swearing. Unhealthy relationship/coping mechanisms (?). Word count: 2.2k+

Lucifer had been courting you for a couple of months already, the King of Hell finally deciding it was time to make the two of you official. The tension was so incredibly thick, that even the hotel’s patrons were growing sick of having to watch the two of you dance aimlessly around each other. Charlie included. 

The past couple of months were more than delightful – Lucifer treated you like a Queen, taking you out almost every other night, having nice candle-lit dinners, and dancing the night away. And if you weren’t really feeling the glamour, the both of you would stay cuddled up against one another whilst watching some cliche rom-com. It was like a dream. It was perfect…well, almost. 

The very source of your concerns was the golden band that remained in Lucifer’s ring-finger. 

You knew about the heart-break and torment that Lucifer underwent following his separation with Lilith. Understandably, having been together for many decades and centuries, the King had a difficult time trying to move on. Even in the earlier stages of your relationship, when he had been comfortable confiding in you, it was evident that he still deeply cared for Lilith, despite her absence. 

You tried to be understanding – you really, really did. But every time you held his hand, the cold metal feeling against your fingers set a painful reminder that maybe he still hasn’t moved on completely. 

It filled you to the brim with self-doubt. Perhaps he was just keeping you around just to fill in the void she had left. And if that were the case, were you even doing a good enough job in that? Hypothetically, if Lilith were to waltz in front of the hotel’s doors one day, was he going to throw you off to the side and run away with her? What if he’d grow bored of you all of a sudden?

Questions such as these would linger at the back of your head constantly, and as they did, you would cast a longing gaze in his direction. When he catches your eye, he would automatically send a smile your way, pearly-whites in full display. It would make you smile without fail, because how could it not? You loved that dashing smile of his. But everyday, you wondered if you could continue to maintain that smile in your life. 

One night in particular, during dinner at one of Hell’s finest establishments, Lucifer noticed that something was off. Your smile hasn’t been reaching your eyes, and you seemed like you were anywhere but here. Your eyes had a distant look to them and whenever he’d ask if something was wrong, you would become dismissive. It concerned him a lot. 

“Darling, are you alright?” Lucifer carefully asked once you both made it to the front porch of the hotel. “Was it the food? Was it not to your liking? Because the chicken was a bit off to be honest, it could’ve been a bit more seasoned–” 

“Luci,” you intervened and grabbed his hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “The food was great, really. It’s just…” As your voice trailed off, you were quick to feel that damn ring around his finger. Because, of course you did, and it didn’t help your mood at all. You force out a huff and pull away, causing the demon’s frown to deepen, “I’m feeling a little under the weather tonight – probably just lacking a bit of sleep.” 

Lucifer scanned your face all over, his brows furrowed in worry. “Well…I guess you have been working harder for the hotel recently.” There had been some truth in that – after all, there had been an influx of sinners in the hotel since the cancellation of this year’s extermination. But he didn’t seem to stop there, not fully convinced by your reasoning, “...But are you sure that’s all, my dear?” 

You looked at him, surprised, as if suddenly caught red-handed. He was quick to pick up on that too, confirming his suspicions and making him all the more nervous.

 “What are you trying to say?” You ask. 

“Well, i-it’s just that I noticed that you’ve been acting a bit off recently,” he splutters. “And not only tonight. You’ve become a bit more…I don’t know, distant with me. And it worries me, y’know? I just…I really, really care about you. A lot.” He almost looks defeated as he rubs anxiously at his nape, “And if I’m being honest, it scares the absolute shit out of me that what I’m doing now isn't right."

Your brows crease in confusion, “...What are you talking about?” 

Lucifer closed his eyes, dragging a palm against his face as an exaggerated groan leaves his lips. “Look, I’m not exactly experienced with all…all this – the one woman I’ve ever been in a committed relationship with left me. Just like that!” He lets out a humourless snort. “A-And I don’t know what I did to make her leave and I for sure don’t want to make that same mistake again. I…I want to be assured that I’m making you happy.” 

Lucifer looks up at you, eyes filled with warmth, as he places a gentle hand against your cheek. He breaks the distance between you to press his forehead against yours. You automatically lean against him out of habit. “I don’t want to lose you. And if I’m doing something wrong, tell me. Please, don’t shut me out.” He pleads, his voice almost falling into a whisper. The unexpected confession left you speechless, your chest feeling all the more tight. It was making you feel worse than you already did. 

You let out a shaky sigh, trying to keep the pending tears at bay. “Luci, I’m sorry. I didn’t know…I-I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. Trust me when I say that you’ve been nothing more than a gentleman, and every moment we’ve spent together has been magical. I appreciate you so, so much, and I could never, ever ask for anything more.” 

You shut your eyes tight, shame filling your very core. “I’m just being a little silly–”

“No, no. Don’t say that, darling. Please tell me what’s going on. It’s okay,” Lucifer encourages softly, his thumb rubbing reassuringly against your cheek. 

You grab his wrist and gently pull your face away from him. With the hand on his arm, you slide it down to grab at his own, bringing it up into view and in-between the both of you. Almost instantaneously, both your eyes lie on the golden band on his finger – to Lucifer, it suddenly clicks. But he couldn’t help but feel an internal conflict brew within him. 

“I-I know how much that ring and Lilith means to you. I really do and I feel awful having to feel this way, but I just…I can’t help it,” you mutter, finally allowing the first couple of tears to fall, “I-I often find myself counting the days and hours when you’ll suddenly realise that I will never be good enough for you. It feels like I’m constantly having to compete with her–heck, what am I even saying? I know I’ll never be able to compete – because, I mean, come on. I'm a nobody!” You chuckle tearfully whilst gesturing to yourself with a free hand.

“And I don’t think I’ll ever understand how you’d ever settle for someone like me. I’m not nearly as important, nor am I the best-looking demon out there. I’m just me.”

“But Lucifer, whenever I’m with you, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. I smile more. Laugh more. I even enjoy the little things more. And I don’t want that to go away. And I’m just hoping– Satan, I’m fucking hoping that it’s the same for you. And if it is, then how long is that going to last with me?” 

Completely shocked, Lucifer watched in silence as his love sobbed their heart out in front of him. He wanted nothing more than to go and wrap you in his warm embrace, and whisper reassurances and hush down your cries. Because, you were right – you did make him happy. So unbelievably happy. You had been the light that casted away the shadows in his darkest times. And yet, why? Why did he remain where he stood, unmoving as tears pathetically poured from his eyes? Why wasn’t he saying anything?

There was a brief, stagnant moment of contemplation where the both of you just stood there. It was the realisation that Lucifer didn’t make any effort to formulate some form of response, that disappointed you even further. It only made the doubtful voice in your head louder. 

It was you who ultimately decided to make the first move, wiping tiredly at your reddened face as you glanced at the hotel’s door. “I’ll be heading off first. I’ll be in the guest room tonight – it’s been a long day,” you raspily say, hiccuping as you pushed through the doors and disappeared into the hotel, leaving Lucifer alone outside. 

As you entered the hotel, you immediately noticed Husk’s presence by the bar, who had been polishing some glasses by the counter. In front of him was Angel, who was making some sweet, small talk with him. They were both alerted by your entrance as the doors flew open, and as Angel was about to greet you in his usual playful fashion, his voice fell flat when he saw the depressed state you were in. 

“Woah, there. What the hell happened to you? You look like shit,” Angel asked, standing to meet you half-way, “I thought you and Short-King were out on a date. Did something happen?” 

“We were but we had a fight or something,” you tiredly shrugged as you walked past the arachnid and plopped yourself down on one of the bar stools. You swirled yourself on the seat to face Husk. “Give me the strongest shit you have. And make it double,” you waved absently at the feline-demon, who raised an incredulous brow at your bluntness. “Damn, it must be that serious considering you don’t even drink,” he grumbles as he turns to start brewing a glass of something, “...do you wanna talk about it?"

You contemplated his offer for a second and realised that you did. For the next five or so minutes, you ended up recounting everything that happened earlier tonight, all the while shedding even more tears. Angel was kind enough to supply you with a mountain of tissues to cry into.

“Well, it sounds to me that your man’s got a whole lot of thinking to do,” Husk clicks his tongue. “But what you’re feeling is completely valid.” “Yeah, who the fuck wears their ol’ wedding ring while dating someone else? What an asshole,” Angel hisses. 

“S-So you guys think there’s a possibility that he might consider ending things with me?” You question dejectedly. Husk and Angel share a look of uncertainty, suddenly feeling the need to be careful of their words. Because they genuinely weren’t sure.

“I–Look, that’s not something we should be focusing on at the moment– I mean, of course, let’s hope that that’s not where this is going. I just think he needs some space to think things through properly,” Husk says. 

“And I know I was talking a whole lot of shit before but let’s take the benefit of the doubt and look at things from his point of view. He was in that boat for more than a couple thousand years. And shit, that’s a lot of fucking years.” Angel points out. “It might take him a while longer to adjust to that, y’know?” Angel places a hand on your shoulder, grinning at you reassuringly, “But there’s one thing for sure that myself and everyone else knows: the guy loves yah, toots. Anyone with eyes can see it, and you guys are really fucking disgusting about it too–ow!” 

Angel suddenly lunges forward against the counter as one of Husk’s wings swipes down to slap the back of his head. “‘The fuck was that for?! It’s true, ain’t it?!” Husk rolled his eyes at his dramatics, before turning back to you. “He’s right, though. Just…just give him a bit more time. I’m sure in the end, the both of you will be fine.” 

Meanwhile, Lucifer decided to head back to his own castle, wanting to be alone to sort through his cluttered thoughts. He was beyond upset with himself for making you cry like that, because it was the last thing he wanted. But he was more upset at the fact that he didn’t know how to navigate through his emotions, despising that he found himself second guessing his feelings. 

As you explicitly implied, was he really still unconsciously longing for Lilith? Was that why he kept wearing his ring? Why was he still wearing it? Was it just for his own comfort? But why would he need it anyways? You were there, weren’t you? All he had said to you tonight, he was contradicting himself, wasn’t he? Perhaps he’s scared. Maybe he isn’t ready yet. But, why would he be with you if he didn’t think so? What exactly were you to him? And what exactly was Lilith to him now?

Lucifer was a complete mess, and that night he couldn’t find a single blink of sleep as these thoughts plagued him. And neither could you, as you scrutinised every aspect of your relationship, thinking of what this could mean for the both of you, moving forward.

Yeah…perhaps you both needed some time. 

Chapter II [x]

#lucifer magne x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITAH for telling my wife no?

My wife (35f) and I (38m) have been married for 12 years, dated for 3 before that. We have 3 kids (10m, 7f, and 5f). We both work full time in separate fields, she does some chemistry thing that I don't understand and I am a manager at a computer repair store my friend runs, and also a short story writer when its slow. She is definitely the breadwinner bill payer between the two of us, but I bring in the fun money for our family and would be completely listless if I didn't at least work part time. We also fully own our home because of her job.

Also, my parents watch the kids for us during the week when we are working. It's been this way since our son was born, and they've been doing it less since they are all in school. But it's free childcare, they refuse to accept money unless it's reimbursing for buying food.

Ok, now that all of that backstory is set, here's where the problem begins.

A couple of months ago my wife started pepper into conversations about a possible promotion coming up that would get her out of the lab and into a more "manage the lab team" position, with less dangerous hours for more pay. Ever since the first time she mentioned it I've been hyping her up and telling her she's a shoo in for the promotion, especially since she's been working there since her masters internship and now she has a PhD.

Last night she told me she was getting word today if she got it! After she left for work this morning I called my boss up and told him I couldn't come in today, and then told my parents the kids were saying with me. We spent the day cleaning the house, drawing congratulations cards, and making a congratulations banner. We also made a couple cards that say sorry and we love you for if she didn't get it. I was working on making her favorite dinner (lobster rolls with lobster bisque, because she's a fancy lady) when she got home earlier than normal. Everyone was surprised, because noone is usually home at this time and yet here everyone was. She got tears in her eyes seeing everything we were still working on, got down and hugged our two youngest, and said she got the promotion! Cheering all around! And that's when she dropped the bomb, saying we need to get a realtor in a state three away from us so we can relocate within the next two months.

I was stunned, and just said no, we arent moving for this promotion. In all of her talks she never mentioned that the promotion wasn't for the same location she's been at. All of our family is here, her parents and mine, all of our friends are here, my job is here. She insisted that she's mentioned relocating before but I swear she never did. That set of a completely new argument about never listening to her and only hearing what I want to hear, and how this will make it so I can stay home with the kids and not even need a fun money job. During this I noticed she was typing on her phone, and when I asked why she was multitasking an argument she said she was texting my parents to get the kids so they don't have to see this.

When my parents got here they congratulated her on the promotion and asked how long until we move.

She told my parents the promotion included relocation.

I'm typing this on the couch in the basement, because I can't face her right now. My parents knowing means she probably did say we would need to move if she got it. I don't want to move, I like my job, and our house. I like being near my parents. I know this would practically set us for life but I don't want to. I know I'm being selfish, and I know I must not be listening when she talks, but I still don't think she should accept the promotion. I still think no.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[babygirl-riley]

Welcome Home

You surprise Simon at the base instead of being at home. You also think about how far he has come to acceptance.

Warnings: mentions of sexual acts, fluff, dad!simon, angst, pregnancy

“I’ve fallen for it, I’ve fallen for it somehow.”

A/N: THE PART TWO DAD!SIMON FROM @ave661 IS KILLLINGGGG ME! Seriously chokehold she has me in ALL the time with her art. 😭

simon x reader guide

simon x reader family edition

You called Price beforehand, asked him if it was alright to surprise Simon. You wanted to show up at the base with your baby girl waiting for him. Like you always do. Thankfully and full heartedly he agreed, he even added that he is excited to see his niece. On the way to the base you felt excitement as you played music for both you and your baby.

Your baby gabbles as she plays with hanging baby toys on her car seat. Simon has been gone for a month, it has been so long and you were so excited. He missed having her first tooth, which he will be so excited to see.

Once you got you and your child out of the car you headed to the inside of the base. “141 will be landing in 5 minutes ma’am.” A man said guiding you to the tarmac. “Captain Price said to meet them there.”

You followed the solider to the direction of the tarmac. You knew very well where it was at, a year ago you were on the team for 141 but decided to retire once you found out you were pregnant. Memories littered the hallways as you held your baby close.

“No.” He mumbled as you both stood in your room. He didn’t move for a moment, you thought he was going to leave and not come back for hours. Simon doesn’t do well with emotions but the last couple of months, he has been able to open up more. Now this. You didn’t know how he was going to react let alone what he was going to do.

It was clear, two lines, one word, 6 tests. You and Simon have been in secret for 2 years, established a relationship in a year. You played with your hands as nerves started to kick in. “I thought you were on birth control.” Simon said looking up at you, his eyes only to be shown. The skull mask looking at you.

“I am.” You said your heart slowly hurting, you knew that he never wanted a kid. You knew of his past so this was a joke for the both of you. It was frowned upon when a lieutenant would be sleeping with their sergeant. Hell damn near court marshaled.

Simon looked back down at the tests. He can’t. He won’t. His mind racing a million miles an hour. How could he explain this one to Price? How could you hide a belly on the force? Is there a way for it to be a secret anymore? He cursed himself for loving the fact that he could breed you. It was a new found kink, with him thinking of his cum coating your walls. Simon never broadcast it to you. Telling you that seeing a belly got him feral, thinking about how your body would react to his gift. But…It’s just…is it too soon? Was he ready? Surely he couldn’t be.

“I can get…”

“No,” He cut you off before looking up at you. “This…Not that. ‘M,” his voice trailed. No abortion, he won’t put your body through hell just because both of you didn’t want to wrap it. “I just-I don’t know what to do.”

“I don’t either,” You whispered walking slowly up to him. “But we can figure this out?”

Simon nodded once still looking at the tests. You waited as he stood there and sighed. “We have to tell Price now.”

“Here is the tarmac,” The solider said breaking you from your thoughts. “It looks like they have just landed.”

You mumbled a thank you as soldiers came out one by one from the plane. All covered in dirt or blood, tired written on their faces. You frowned knowing that Simon felt the same, it couldn’t have gone the way it suppose to.

You smiled as you walked out watching Gaz come out first, happy surprise on his face. He looked to the side of him to see Soap, who smiled at you nodded. Price smiled, heading towards the direction you were before stopping. Simon, walked out last, almost stopped in his tracks.

Smile beaming on his face underneath the skull mask. His girls. He be-lined to you and your baby girl. His heart beating quickly, as excitement coursed through his veins.

Price stood as both of his teammates broke the news. He had his suspicions of them fucking around but not together. He itches his beard as your tears start to mellow out. Simon was not looking at him but folding his arms while leaning against the wall.

It was like two of his kids came home after school to get hounded at. It was amusing if Price wasn’t angry. Yes. He was at first, his lieutenant and his best sniper in a bit of a bind. She has to be discharged no way will Price NOR Simon let her go out in the field. Especially since they voiced they are keeping the kid.

“We keep it low,” Price finally spoke watched as both of you looked up. “We have to slowly discharge you, not try to have eyes on the situation until then. No missions for you.”

You nodded, first time every has he seen you so shy. Timid. Usually you had confidence written all over you. “Yes sir.” You mumbled looking away.

Price looked at Simon. “I want to have a discussion with you,” He looked at you as you stared at him. You both are young, younger than him anyway. He seen how Simon’s demeanor changed throughout the years when you came on the force. Of course no one else saw it, but Price did. He always knew. “Dismissed Sargent.”

Your baby squealed with delight as she bounced in your arms. “Da! Da!” She yelled as Simon walked over, having heads turn to see the little baby showed her excitement. Simon did take note that she knew who he was and in fact used ‘dada.’

Simon almost damn near sprinted as he walked up to both of you. You let him take your baby as he grabbed her, she screamed laughed, as he rose her to the air. Holding her sides gently but firm. She is so tiny compared to him, she kicked her feet softly in the air, laughing her little head off. Simon loves that sound, the sound of pure joy coming from her. To the point he didn’t give a damn who was around them. Simon was never a shower when it came to his private life, but when she was around wow, he would make sure everyone knew who she was.

Simon sat across the table from you, your bump more noticeable, 6 months to be exact. He still couldn’t believe that what was growing inside you was his. Part of him. Something that he would have never thought would be done. Or have. You have become more aware and accepting of having the child. Yet he still hasn’t.

“I know it will take time Si,” You said knowing always what he was thinking. Simon snapped his eyes up at you, he felt guilt for sure. You were just honorable discharged and he stayed in the force. “I can’t make you feel happy about this. But…But I know eventually you will.”

He didn’t believe you until one night he laid between your legs as you rubbed the back of his head. Simon chuckled lightly at the tv show you were both watching right when it happened,felt a small poke to his head, he froze, you felt him tense. “What…what that?”

You giggled lowly as you rubbed your belly. “It’s the baby,” He still didn’t move when he felt it again. “She moves a lot when you make any sort of noise.” Simon rose slightly, looking up at you, curiously. You grabbed his hand and placed it where she was. His eyes trained on his hand. “Say something.” You whispered.

Simon looked at you unsure before clearing his throat. “Uh, hello baby girl.” It took a second before he felt the bump move to his hand. A soft graze. He snapped his eyes up at you and tears brimming your eyes, nodding. Encouraging him to continue. Simon’s eyes started to water, everything hitting, even when she isn’t out here she was wanting him. Knowing that he is her dad. And she was his baby.

His hand rubbed your belly. “‘Ight ass kicker. I’m happy to hear ya too.”

“Hello my angels,” He said as slowly held her close to him. Her head cradled inside of his neck. Her hands gripping his uniform. He placed a hand on the back of her hand holding her close. You smiled as he placed his other gloved hand on your cheek. “Why ya ‘ere?”

“I couldn’t wait at home,” You stated as people passed the both of you. “She couldn’t either,” you bumped your shoulder against his. “Told you it was dada.” You teased talking about the last time you both were on the phone. Her screaming ‘da da da,’ knowing damn well it was her daddy on the phone. Simon would tease and say that she got your intelligence since she was only 5 months.

Simon chuckled rolling his eyes, turning his head as she rose from his shoulder. She started towards his skull mask gripping the bottom of it. “Not yet sweethear,’” he whispered gently grabbing her hands. “We are gonna debrief it shouldn’t take too long.”

“Lass,” You laughed as the scottish came up from behind Simon. Slapping his back. “Oh well hello little miss.” He scratched softly underneath her chin. She laughed again shaking her head as she clung onto her dad. “Yer playing hard to get now?” He teased and looked at you.

“Hey Johnny,” You laughed reaching for your baby. She came to you with ease, which you mentally sighed in relief, hoping that she wouldn’t ball her little eyes out when she watched her dad leave. “We will wait on the cafeteria.”

Simon placed his forehead against yours. “It will be quick.” He whispered.

You nodded as you watched them all file into the base. Your baby holding onto you cooing. “Why don’t you ever get that excited to see me,” You playfully glared poking her stomach. She giggled swatting your finger away. “Brat.” You laughed taking her and you to the cafeteria.

#Spotify #simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare #simon ‘ghost’ riley #simon riley #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #ghost #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon ghost riley x wife!reader #dad!simon ghost riley #dad!ghost #daddy!simon #dad!simon #literally being fed with this dad simon

[strang3lov3]

Dirty Laundry

Joel's best kept secret is the washer and dryer he's not supposed to have. Your best kept secret is that you've been using that washer to get yourself off.

Tags - 18+, smut, fingering, cunnilingus, masturbation on a washing machine, dirty boxer sniffing (you fucking freak), fantasizing about a dirty old man, unprotected piv, creampie, curmudgeon joel talks you through knife safety, washing machine repairs, and overstim. 8k words, idk what the fuck happened. Thank you to @noxturnalpascal , @beefrobeefcal , and @papipascalispunk for helping me edit this monstrosity and @joelsgreys for letting me scream about washers and dryers for days <3 A/N - i have worked harder on this than my finals, but that should surprise no one. i only have one more left and then you should be seeing more of me this summer <3 i have a lot a lot a lot planned and I've been so excited to share new shit with you. Roman girlies, I haven't forgotten about you. He's up next. Anyway, you maniacs know what you’re here for, so please enjoy.

Joel’s best kept secret is his Whirlpool brand washer and dryer set, which is hidden deep in his basement. You stand before it now, loading your dirty laundry into it, using what is definitely too much of Joel’s detergent. 

Perhaps it’s more accurate to say his washer and dryer set was his best kept secret, until you came along and forced his hand. Everything was fine, and then you showed up, both yourself and your basket of laundry soaking wet, leaving Joel with no choice but to lend you a hand. Biggest mistake of his life. 

As great as Jackson is, it still comes up short sometimes. Not with everything; you’re beyond blessed to live in the safety of its walls. Just technologically, sometimes it can leave you missing the finer things. It's not Jackson’s fault society is twenty years into an apocalypse, thus running on twenty-plus year old appliances. The older ovens, refrigerators, and other appliances that were built in the seventies to the nineties or so are surprisingly doing alright, but the ones built when manufacturing began to take a turn for the worse around the later nineties and 2000s are beginning to crap out, especially the washers. God, you hate laundry day. The washers at the laundromat in Jackson always give you a hard time. Week after week, your chosen washer won’t start, or it’ll stop mid-cycle. The laundry attendant, Patti, often helps you wash your clothes by hand which is nice, but still frustrating for you both. 

On a busy and gloomy Sunday a couple months back, you were lucky enough to pick one of the less temperamental washers and hardly had to fight or beg and plead with it to get it to wash your clothes. However, your luck ran out when it came time to dry, your dryer wouldn’t run. Refused to start, even with Patti’s help. Worse yet, every other dryer was in use at the moment.  You were shit out of luck. Patti offered you a sympathetic smile and sent you home with a baggy full of clothes pins and a wagon to carry your basket of sopping wet clothes. The clothespins were a nice gesture, but didn’t help much as you didn’t have a clothesline. And - you had to laugh - most of them were broken. Oh dear, sweet Patti.

Once at home, you did your best to hang up your clothes on your porch, laying them out over the thick wooden railing, securing them with rocks. The wind was blowing something fierce that day, and then you felt it – a raindrop. And then another, and another. Before you knew it, you were caught in a torrential downpour, with your clothes blowing every which way. Working to gather your clothes as quickly as possible, you haphazardly chucked the rocks that were keeping them still in every direction, your neighbor Joel interrupting the task when he came outside and started to shout at you. Joel’s a man that can only be described as crotchety. A curmudgeon, even. 

“The fuck are you throwing rocks at my window for?” he shouted, but you couldn’t hear him over the sound of the wind and the rain smacking your porch. 

“What?” you yelled back, “Joel, I can’t hear you.” 

“ROCKS,” he shouted again, “Why are you throwi–” Joel realized it was a lost cause then. He could see in your face that you couldn’t hear him, you looked puzzled and annoyed for a moment before you returned to throwing rocks and gathering clothes. “Fuck it,” he mumbled to himself. Through the pouring rain, he marched across both his and your lawns and right up the steps of your porch. “What are you doing?”

“I was at the laundromat and the dryer stopped working so Patti gave me clothespins but I don’t have a clothesline so I tried to lay them out on my porch with rocks so they could dry but then it started to ra–” Getting the picture, Joel had stopped listening to you and joined you in gathering your clothes tossing stones back into the rock edging surrounding your house. “What are you doing?” you asked. 

“Nothin’, just– come on. Let’s go – we’re goin’ to my house,” he answered, dumping the last of your clothes into your basket. 

“Why?”

Lightning shoots from a nearby cloud, with booming thunder following suit. Joel’s soaking wet, as are you. His hair was dark and stuck to his forehead, his thin t-shirt clung to his body, outlining his soft, pillowy tummy and belly button and his thick, muscular biceps. “Go, go, go,” Joel shouted, waving you away. “Just go. Move.” he grunted as he lifted up your laundry basket and hauled it across the grass in quick strides. He held the basket on his hip as he opened his door for you, guiding you inside with a push to your lower waist. 

Your shoes squeaked as you followed Joel through his house. He took your basket down his basement stairs, “Be careful for me, stairs are steep,” he warned you, “Don’t need you crackin’ your skull open. Got enough shit to deal with.” It was sweet, knowing that he was looking out for you – even with the irritation lacing his tone. 

You couldn’t believe your eyes as you saw what Joel had led you to. A washer and a dryer, olive green in color. He opened the door of the dryer and shoved your wet clothes inside it, then took off his own soaked shirt and pants and tossed them in too. “They’re clean,” he told you. 

In another lifetime where the world doesn’t go to shit and fungus is the least of your problems, the mundane appliances in front of you would be the very last thing on your mind. You’d be focused on Joel, watching rivulets of water slide down his jaw, past his Adam’s apple and pool in the hollow of his throat. You’d be tracing the outline of his body with your eyes, following that thin line of hair that spreads down his lower stomach, disappearing under his boxers. You’d be eyeing his thick bulge and the way that if you squint, you could see the outline of his cock. But in this life, in this moment – where the world went to shit a long time ago – you’re more amazed by the washer and dryer he stands next to. “This is why I never see you at the laundromat? The whole time, you’ve had a washer and dryer?” you asked, astonished. 

“M’not supposed to, but yeah,” Joel answered, shutting the dryer door before turning to you with his chin tilted down, eyebrows raised. Don’t you go tellin’ anyone, now.”

“I’m gonna tell Patti.”

Joel looked betrayed and puzzled. “I’m doin’ you a favor,” he reminded you.

“I know.”

“You want me to dry your clothes or not?” You crossed your arms and bit the inside of your cheek as you shrugged. “Oh, Christ,” Joel grumbled under his breath. “Why the hell would you go and rat me out?”

“Because, Joel, ” you began explaining, “All of the washers and dryers are breaking and you’re hoarding your own? I don’t think so – if everyone else has to share the washers, then you do too,” you scolded. “It’s selfish.” 

“Life ain’t fair, sweetheart.” You stared at Joel for a moment before turning on your heel to go tattle on him, just like you swore you would. “Wait–” Joel grabbed your arm, stopping you. Despite being long gone from Boston QZ, Joel couldn’t quite shake those smuggling and bargaining habits of his. You were serious about this threat, and he knew it. You’d march your ass through the pouring rain to go snitch on him to Patti. And really, the worst that would’ve happened to Joel would be a scolding from Maria and the washer and dryer removed from his home and placed in the laundromat. It’s not like he’d be placed in a pillory and have rotten tomatoes thrown at him. But still. Joel liked his washer and dryer. He sighed. “What do you want?”

“I don’t want anything, Joel. I just want to better our community.” 

Give me a break. “What do you want,” he repeated, his voice lower. 

You pressed your lips in a thin line, eyeing those pretty olive green appliances of his. It’s not a far walk to Joel’s house… And you wouldn’t have to wait in line to wash your clothes behind twenty other people. You did want to better your community, that much was true. But you weren’t opposed to bettering your own life. “Let me use your washer and dryer. Whenever I want.”

Joel was quick to counter in a stern voice, “Twice a week, tops.” 

“Three times,” you tried.

“Once,” Joel lowered his offer and then looked at you with his eyes squinted, his head cocked to the side. “Who does laundry three times a week?” 

It was a fair point. Even with your very own washer and dryer, you wouldn’t do that much laundry. “Fine. Twice,” you agreed, and Joel held out his hand for you to take and you shook on it. His palm was warm and calloused, his grip firm. In that moment you met his eyes, taking in the beauty of his face. Those sparkling, big brown eyes and the beautiful curve of his aquiline nose. Your eyes traveled lower still, and it hit you both at that moment - the realization that Joel was wearing nothing but his boxers, and that you were still shivering in your cold, wet clothes. Joel dropped your hand quickly and grabbed a clean t-shirt from one of his own laundry baskets on top of the dryer. “Here. You can change into this and toss your clothes in there too, f’ya want.”

“Thanks,” you said quietly, taking the shirt from his hand. “Do you have something to wear?”

“I’m a little behind on laundry, actually…” Joel trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. You scoffed and chuckled at that. The luxury of his very own washer and dryer, right in the comfort of his home, and Joel had the audacity to be behind on laundry. “Uhh, anyway. You just turn the knob on the dryer to ‘high’ and press the start button. I’ll give ya some privacy to change, you can meet me upstairs when you’re done,” he said, and then shuffled past you. 

Once Joel was up the stairs, you took off your clothes and put them in with the rest of the clothing in the dryer. You changed into Joel’s t-shirt, the fabric was soft with time and many wearings, and it smelled like him despite being washed. It was a muted teal in color, littered with a couple of bleach stains here and there. You liked it. 

Upstairs, Joel made a couple of mugs of hot tea to warm you both up. “Honey?” 

“Yeah, Joel?”

“N- no, like…Was askin’ f’ya wanted honey in your tea.”

“Oh.” Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. “Y– yes please. Thank you.” You felt heat rise to your cheeks. What a stupid thing to say. You watched as Joel stirred a bit of honey into your cup of tea, smirking as he then handed you the mug. Asshole. “Thought you were a coffee drinker,” you mused awkwardly, attempting to change the subject after taking a sip of the hot liquid, “You like tea?”

Joel grimaced in disgust as he took a sip of his own tea. “No. Just tryin’ to be polite for ya.” 

“You don’t have to drink it if you don’t like it, you know,” you smiled into your mug. 

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Aaand there it is. Curmudgeon Joel was back, Neighborly Joel never lasted long anyway. 

You sat on Joel’s couch, warming up with your cup of tea. Joel had noticed goosebumps on your thighs and pulled a blanket over your lap. He sat next to you with his mug steaming in his hands and just stared at you, not even realizing how deeply he was admiring the way his shirt hugged your curves just right, highlighting all the right parts of you. He jolted when he felt his cock thicken in his boxers, spilling his scalding hot tea all over his bare thighs. “God bless it,” he swore. Without thinking, he pulled the blanket from your legs and covered his own lap to hide his growing erection from you. 

“Joel, what the fuck?” 

“Nothin’. Just– m’cold,” he lied. “Jesus fuckin’- just - c’mere,” Joel huffed as he patted the spot next to him and urged you closer, then laid the blanket back over your legs. You sat shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh as you sipped your tea and Joel’s went cold. Dork. 

Moments passed. You sat in silence, the only sound was the rain pounding against Joel’s windows as your heart fluttered in anxiety, or maybe excitement. You might’ve even called it butterflies in your tummy. But you knew better. It was just the close proximity to Joel. And the fact that you were wearing his shirt, and he was practically naked. All of it pretty insignificant, honestly. It was basically nothing.

Joel finally spoke first, “Was thinkin’ it’d be best if you’d come by at night, when I’m on patrol or somethin’. Nobody’ll see you with your laundry and it’ll stay our lil’ secret, yeah?” You nodded, still a little bashful with everything that had happened. You aren’t often like that. It’s cute, Joel thought. “An’ you can use my detergent and whatnot. Whatever you need, s’yours.” 

“Thank–” an especially bright flash of lightning followed by nearly deafening thunder interrupted you. You startled and sort of hurled yourself closer to Joel, grabbed his forearm and held it tight. It was just a reflex, probably. Basically nothing. 

“It’s just a storm, sweetheart. Ain’t gonna bite ya,” Joel teases with a grin. 

“Oh, shut up,” you let go of his arm and missed the warmth of his skin beneath your palm almost immediately, but your longing for his touch was quickly soothed. Joel wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into his side as you listened to the sounds of the storm together. You stayed like that, inhaling the sweet scent of him, masculine and heady. He smelled like the rain, too, and the hair on his underarms tickled your skin but you didn’t mind. When your laundry dried, he carried your basket home for you. You thanked him and moved to shut the door, but Joel stopped it with his hand, “Washer can be sorta delicate sometimes, so just be careful with it.”

“Noted,” you replied. “See ya, Joel.”

“See ya, hon.”

A few nights later, you returned to his home with your basket of laundry. Joel was gone, on patrol as he often is at night. Doing the laundry was uneventful , even though you probably used too much detergent, but whatever. Joel didn’t have to know. The next time you did laundry, Joel was at home. He told you not to worry about whichever nights you come by, that he’d always leave the washer and dryer empty in the evenings for you to use. He was even generous enough to make you dinner that night. 

It all worked out. Joel’s washer and dryer stayed unknown to the rest of Jackson, and your laundry was cleaned in a much more efficient way. There really weren’t any flaws in your and Joel’s system, as long as you didn’t include the one laundry night where Joel was gone on patrol again, but had come home just as you were leaving. You bumped into him accidentally, causing a lacy pair of your panties to fall right out of your basket and onto his shoe. He bent down and picked them up for you, not even realizing what he was holding. “Oh. My bad,” he blushed, once he recognized the garment. “I’ll just…” and put them back in your basket. From that point forward, he was always careful to stay out of your way. Aside from that it really did all work out. 

-

After loading your clothes into Joel’s washer, you shut the washer door and turn it on. You make your way upstairs and there’s a note on Joel’s table – Leftovers in the fridge are yours if you wanna heat them up.

Opening the fridge, you see a neatly packed container of what looks to be chicken and vegetables. Yum. God, you’ll miss these vegetables when it gets cold again. You take advantage of the offer and heat up the food in a pan on the stovetop, humming to yourself as you stir the food to keep it from burning. A light flickers above you. Weird. It flickers again, and then finally goes out. But it’s no big deal, you’ve seen in Joel’s basement that above the washer and dryer is a shelf full of supplies and you know there’s a couple of bulbs there. You go back downstairs where the washer hums, working its way through the cycle.

“Hmm,” you hum to yourself. You’d never quite realized just how high up that supply shelf is. And the bulbs are in the middle of the shelf, so there’s no good way to get them without climbing on top of the washer, which Joel would probably kill you for doing. He did ask that you be careful with his fragile washer, after all. Whatever. It’ll take like six seconds, tops. You hoist yourself on the washer and first try kneeling on it to see if you can reach one of the bulbs. No luck. You stand on your feet then, raising yourself up carefully, slowly, feeling the washer shake slightly beneath your feet. Joel would be absolutely irate if he saw you like this now. When you finally grab one of those light bulbs, you carefully lower yourself to a seated position on the washer to catch your breath. You’re not usually prone to vertigo, but Joel’s wobbly washer brought the dizziness on. You know better than to try and move right now, so you just settle yourself down to avoid fainting.  

The washer vibrates under the flesh of your thighs. It’s a gentle sensation, lessened by the angle you’re sitting at. But if you focus really hard, you can feel it in your core. Curious, you spread your legs and turn to the corner of the washer, tilting your hips to the floor, and oh, this is it. You’re not even thinking about potential consequences when you shimmy your shorts and panties off, then find that sweet spot once more. The metal of the washer is cool against you as it vibrates, sending sweet little buzzes through your hot core. You’re not quite wet yet, just enjoying the sensation. Letting it build and build, seeing where it can get you. You let your mind wander, not really thinking about much in particular. The low hum of the washer fades away in your mind and you’re starting to become wet. Shifting your position, you extend your arm to find something to grab onto when you feel fabric. Joel’s clothes. He’s still a slacker with keeping up on his dirty laundry. Usually it would irritate you. It does irritate you, this exorbitant waste of an advantage he has. You look at the shirt in your hand, the same shirt Joel had lent you. You think back to that first time you did laundry here at Joel’s, how he sat next to you nearly naked. The feel of his skin and the smell of him - sweat and rain and musk. And Joel being the beautiful, incognizant man he is, probably had zero clue of how sexy he looked. Or smelled, for that matter. 

With Joel now on your mind and his shirt in your hand, you decide to experiment, create a better ambiance. You keep those images of him in your mind, those feelings too. You remember the low timbre of his voice, the rain splashing against the windows, the weight of his arm wrapped around your shoulders. And with his dirty t-shirt clutched in your fist and its armpit pressed against your nose you remember his scent. Smell is a powerful sense, closely linked to memory and emotion, his shirt and what it’s doing to you is a testament to that fact. Legs spread wide, your hips angled down with your clit pressed to the corner of Joel’s washer, the machine vibrating under you as you inhale his scent deeply - you’re back in that memory. And then some. 

In your mind, your back on Joel’s couch. You can smell him, feel him, and if you really concentrate, you can even taste him. You’re on your knees and he’s drawing lazy patterns on your back as you suck his cock and fondle his balls, and he’s moaning, grunting and whimpering your name. He tastes like he smells, heady and all masculine. He grips the back of your neck and lifts you up, guides you to straddle his hips. His forehead pressed against yours, he notches the tip of his cock inside you and pulls you down slowly, careful so as not to hurt you but it does, of course it does. Not that you mind, you love the stretch and the ache of his thickness splitting you in two. You rock yourself, grind your clit against that unruly patch of hair at the base of his cock. You’re coming, you’re coming, you’re coming. 

You’re coming. Loudly, whimpering Joel’s name as you rut against the vibrating machine. As you finish, so does the washer. It sings you a little chiming song indicating the load is done washing. You can’t help but giggle at that as you bask in the discovery of this fortuitous delight. You’ve got private access to a washer and dryer and a vibrator now too? Lucky, lucky, lucky. 

God, Joel’s shirt smells good. You inhale it deeply, wondering if he wears cologne. It smells almost woodsy…smokey, even. 

Fuck. You’re smelling smoke. 

You pull on your pants and sprint up the steps, racing to Joel’s kitchen only to find that the chicken and veggies you were heating up are no more. They’re black and shriveled, cemented to the stainless steel pan, and there’s no salvaging that. No amount of scrubbing can erase your masturbatory mistake. Fuck, Joel’s gonna kill you. Your only choice is to conceal the evidence. Surreptitiously, you take the pan and hide it under a bush outside Joel’s backdoor.

You’ll be more responsible next time - yes, there absolutely will be a next time. Gas off before you get off. 

The next time came and went. And the time after that, and the one after that. Laundry was always your least favorite chore, but with access to Joel’s washer and dryer and this new trick up your sleeve, it’s not so bad. Getting off on Joel’s washer has become a weekly thing and it’s been lovely, relieving, dirty, and exciting, but you’d be lying if you were to say it’s been perfectly fine the whole time. 

You’ve been abusing the poor machine. It’s no secret. You get every bang for your buck out of the washer, taking full advantage of Joel’s twice a week offer and then some. Some nights you’ll sneak over and do an extra load, wash a blanket or something just to make the washer run for your masturbatory purposes. And so, the vibrating sensation the machine produces has begun to weaken. In order to compensate, you’ve been rocking yourself harder on it, which probably isn’t helping. But it’s still washing your clothes, right? 

…Yes. Mostly. It still washes, but it’s become sort of finicky. And the door doesn’t quite shut the way it used to, and it makes an odd noise now that it never made before. 

Tonight you’re at Joel’s doing a double load of laundry. There were no ulterior motives on your part when you came over, honestly and truly. Your first load is drying, the second load is in the washer. Joel’s home tonight, he’s gonna cook you dinner like he always does when he’s around. For such a grouch, he wears his heart on his sleeve. 

It would be more accurate to say you’re cooking dinner together. Joel came home with a basket full of fresh vegetables from the market and actually put you to work, his reasoning being that he was starving and wanted dinner ready yesterday, and that having your help cutting up the vegetables for the meal he was making would have dinner ready that much sooner. He places a cutting board in front of you and hands you a knife, “Chop chop,” he says, then laughs at his own pun as he rifles through some cabinets. “Missin’ a saucepan…” he mumbles to himself. Oops.

You start by peeling the carrots. As you begin to chop them, you realize he didn’t give you any sort of instruction. “Joel?”

“Yeah, hon.”

“How small do you need me to cut the carrots?”

“Uhhhh,” he thinks. “Lemme see.” Joel turns around and watches you with a look of disappointment and repulsion painting his features. “What’s the matter with you?”

“What?” you ask defensively. 

“Why are you tryin’ to cut off your fingers?”

You look down at your hand holding the carrot and your other hand holding the knife, then up at Joel. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “I’m not trying to cut off my fingers.”

“Sure looks like it to me. Is that always how you handle a knife?”

“Yeah,” you reply, “Why?”

“‘Cause you’re gonna cut off your damn fingers, dammit, that’s why. C’mere,” Joel stands behind you where you stand at the island, then lifts up your left hand and curls your fingers underneath themselves. “Keep your fingers like this,” he instructs. “Holdin’ your fingers out flat like that are a sure fire way to cut ‘em off. Now show me how you chop.” 

With your fingers in the proper position now, you begin to cut the carrots. They wobble beneath you, you hate the way Joel has you holding them. “This is uncomfortable,” you tell him. 

“You know what’s more uncomfortable? Missin’ fingers. Keep goin’.” You groan but keep chopping per his demand. He’s pressed against your back, one of his palms lays flat against the countertop, semi caging you in as he watches you work. “Okay, okay, stop. You’re makin’ me nervous. Gimme this.” Joel wraps his hand around yours on the handle of the knife. He moves the knife for you, cutting the carrot slowly, your hand securely in his. “You’re liftin’ the knife too much, sweetheart. Just rock it back and forth for me. Just like this,” he whispers, showing you how he rocks the knife in a fluid motion to cut the carrots. His hands are warm, his grip on your hands is firm. His breath is hot and tickles your ear, sending goosebumps erupting down the back of your neck. He chops the carrots quietly, and you feel him against you - the rise and fall of his chest and tummy with each inhale and exhale he takes, his wiry scruff kissing the side of your face. “That’s it,” he praises, “Good girl.”

Fuck. His words go right to your core. As if him holding your hands and caging you in to teach you how to cut vegetables wasn’t enough, he had to call you ‘good girl’ as well. That had to be deliberate on his part, you’re almost certain of it. And now you’ve got to pay his washer another visit. His fault, honestly. “Laundry,” you blurt out, pushing his hands off of yours and shrinking away from his hold. “Sorry. Gotta check the laundry.”

“Oh. Alright, then.” Joel watches you pace down the basement stairs and listens to you pretend to check on your clothes, opening and shutting the washer and dryer doors. He’s waiting for you to come upstairs, but you never do. “You comin’ upstairs?”

“Yeah, just a minute,” you call back.

“There’s spiders down there, you know. Big an’ fuzzy too.” 

“I’ll be fine,” you yell as you unbutton your shorts and pull them down your legs. “I don’t mind them.”

Your reply immediately has Joel feeling suspicious of you. Even a mention of a mere ant should have sent you running into his arms and pleading with him to get rid of it. On more than one occasion, Joel’s woken up to you pounding on his door in the middle of the night begging him to come kill a spider that’s in your bedroom. And he always does, of course, even when the spider is miniscule and simply minding its business in a corner somewhere. He’ll scoop it into the palm of his hand and set it outside in a bed of flowers, call you a wimp and be on his merry way, grumbling the entire walk home. He wonders why the hell you’re so brave all of a sudden. 

A loud, clunking noise interrupts the silence. “Oh, fuck,” you swear. And Joel’s deaf, but not deaf enough to not hear you. “What was that?” he calls from up the stairs. 

“Nothing!”

Joel knows it wasn’t nothing, it certainly didn’t sound like nothing. You quickly pull your shorts and panties back on when you hear him stomping down the stairs to investigate. Wracking your brain to think of a lie to tell Joel, you realize you’re fucked, utterly and completely. It would’ve been more appropriate to think of one before now, probably around the time the washer started to make weird noises. Now you’re faced with god knows what consequences. 

Joel greets you with a puzzled and angered expression. “What the hell happened?”

“I d– I don’t know. Just something… Happened, I guess,” you stutter. Subtly, you stuff the used pair of his boxers you were smelling down the back of your shorts to hide the evidence of your even dirtier secret. Joel sees that you’re avoiding eye contact, looking up and away, scratching your head. The silence hangs heavily in the air and Joel sees the guilt on your face and that your shorts are undone for some reason. “You have ten seconds to tell me the truth before this becomes a much worse day for us both.”

“Nothing happened–”

 “Nine, eight…”

You fold instantly. “I sit on it,” you confess, Joel exhales in frustration. “Sit? As in… this is a regular occurrence, you’ve been sittin’ on my washer,” Joel asserts. You nod in confirmation. “Why.”

 “I don’t know,” you shrug, another lie. 

“Well, how much have you been sittin’ on it?” 

“Just like…a lot, I guess.” You look down at your feet, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.  

“Why?” he asks again.

“It…uhh…sort of…” you mumble, picking at your fingernails. 

“Sort of what?”

“Vibrates.”

Joel’s face falls at the admission. “You’re not serious,” he says, but he knows you are. “Oh my god.”

“Stranger things have happened, right?” Your voice wavers as you try to soften the blow with a joke. 

“Unbelievable,” Joel pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. “No. Stranger things than you have not happened, sweetheart.” After taking a few deep breaths, he pushes you to the side and reaches for the shelf above the washer for a toolbox. He takes out a putty knife and wriggles the front of the washer off, then drops to his knees to inspect the washer. “Did I not ask you to be careful with it?” It’s a rhetorical question. Joel groans when he sees what’s broken inside of the washer. 

“What is it?”

“Belt’s broken,” he answers. “You’re lucky s’fixable.”

“Oh,” you say. “Well, it’s good you can fix it, right?”

 “Oh, no. You are fixin’ it, my darlin’. You broke it.”

Joel’s out of his mind if he thinks you’re putting his washer back together. “I don’t know how,” you tell him. You’ll make it up to him in any other way than this, but there’s no way he’s serious. Besides, he’s now the first to know that your track record with washers isn’t to be trusted.

 “I’ll walk you through it,” Joel replies plainly. “Get down there. On your knees, sweetheart.” You roll your eyes at him. “Now,” he says, unimpressed with your defiance.

You drop to your knees in front of the washer, looking for the broken belt that Joel speaks of. You find one of the big and fuzzy spiders he was talking about instead. “Jesus!” you yelp, launching backwards and nearly knocking Joel over in the process “There’s a spider, Joel - kill it, kill it, kill it, Joel - kill it, please,” you beg. 

“Oh for Christ’s sake, it’s harmless.”

“Joel!”

Joel nudges you out of the way to find the spider sitting right at the bottom of the washer. He scoops it into his hand, then holds it in front of you, “I thought you said you didn’t mind ‘em,” he taunts. 

“I lied. Get it away from me,” You shove him away from you, and he clutches the spider more carefully in his hands, laughing. 

“Yeah, I know you lied. You’re very bad at it,” Joel opens one of the basement’s egress windows and sends the spider on its way, then closes it and returns to you, first grabbing what looks to be a replacement belt for his washer from a nearby shelf. Leave it to Joel to have the most convenient yet obscure supplies right in his basement twenty years into an apocalypse. “Back to work.” You’re in front of the washer once more, and Joel takes his seat right behind you. “See that black belt at the bottom of the drum?”

“No.”

“This thing here,” he points at it with his finger. “Take it off,” You reach for the belt and tug on it a bit, “Gotta wiggle it a bit,” following his instruction, you wiggle the belt and it falls off the drum. “Attagirl. Now put this one on,” he hands you the new belt and takes the old one from you. “S’gonna be snug.”

You struggle to stretch the rubber over the drum and it snaps your hands when it slips. “Fuck.”

“Keep tryin’. Put some elbow grease into it, hon,” Joel hovers over your shoulder, just as he did earlier in the kitchen. “M’just checkin’ to make sure you got it lined up properly,” Joel tugs on the rubber belt, making sure it’s sitting where it needs to. “So tell me again how long you been doin it for,” he whispers. “Long time?”

You answer cautiously, “Uhhh…a while now, I guess.”

 “Yeah, I figured. S’it feel good?” 

The question throws you off, makes you nervous. But his voice is low and gravelly, and his tone isn’t pointed or accusatory. He seems curious, but for what reason, you’re not quite sure yet. “It does.”

“Better than your fingers?” Joel tightens the belt a bit and leans back. He’s watching you, but you can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes. You gasp when you feel his warm palm sliding underneath your shorts. “What the–” Oh, fuck. Joel found his pair of boxers. He holds the fabric in his hands, a knowing grin on his lips. “These are mine. What’re you doin’ with my dirty boxers?” he asks. He doesn’t allow you time to stutter out an excuse. “You’re a dirty lil’ bird, aren’t you?”

“Joel.”

He tosses his pair of boxers onto the dryer and whispers in your ear again, “I asked you somethin’. My washer feel better than your fingers?”

“Yeah,” you answer, “Better.”

Joel hums in amusement. He slides his hand down the front of your pants, still unbuttoned from earlier. “Saved me the trouble, didn’t ya, sweetheart?” he breathes. Your breath hitches when his fingers find your mound, as he toys with the curls there. He traces over your lips, then dips a finger between them, circling your hole, then circles your clit. “Better than mine?” he asks, dipping a finger into your center and you moan.  He holds one hand on your hip as the other pumps in and out of your center, and you lean back into his chest, relaxing with his touch. You sigh deeply. “Don’t get all cozy on me, now. You ain’t done. Gotta put the front of the washer back on, should just click right into place.”

Joel pulls his hand away from you so you can lift the front piece of the washer. “It’s not–” you complain, struggling to click it into place the way Joel says it should. You push and push, but it doesn’t budge. “Joel, it’s not–”

“It will. Just try.” 

“I am,” you argue, shoving it once more but to no avail. You’ve grown frustrated by his washer, by the task Joel bestowed upon you in fixing it, and his teasing, too. In a fit of anger, you stand up and kick it.

 “Hey, easy,” Joel scolds. “Look, like this,” Magically, the front piece of the washer fits right into place, just like he said it would. He does nothing different than what you did, it just works out for him. Of course it does. “You’re impatient, huh?” he murmurs, moving behind you. You gasp when you feel his hands on your hips, tugging the fabric of both your shorts and your panties down to your ankles, he helps you out of the garments and tosses them elsewhere. His hands are on your hips again, this time guiding you, whispering, “Back, back,” as he positions you where he needs you, spreading your legs apart. You’re leaning on his washer and he’s on his knees behind you, using his nose to tease and part your slick folds. He inhales you deeply, taking in the sweet scent of your arousal before he tastes you. He traces your lips with a pointed tongue, up and down, before he dips his tongue into your heat, savoring you. 

“How ‘bout my tongue?” he purrs, whispering against your skin. You don’t answer, and it’s not like you could anyway, with the way he devours you. His arms are wrapped around your legs, his fingertips are digging harshly into your thighs like he means to bruise you, tear the flesh off your bones even. It’s possessive in nature, but not abusive or aggressive. You know his actions aren’t borne of anything except pure pleasure and you indulge in it, in him. He moves slow like honey as he tastes you languidly, kissing you. He laps your velvety heat, his tongue teasing all of your sensitive, slick flesh. Now and then the wiry hairs of his beard will tease and scratch your inner thighs, a sensation that tickles you and rubs you raw all the same. “Oh my god,” you moan, reaching behind yourself to take hold of his head, fingers tangling in his graying curls and waves. “Joel, oh my god.”

Joel takes your lack of a real answer to his question as a no, his washer pales in comparison to his tongue. Good. He bets you’ve fantasized about him, all those times you’ve used his washer for those needs of yours besides washing your clothes. And he bets that you probably grind yourself on it, picturing it’s his warm flesh beneath you and not the cold metal of the machine. He’d be right. He sucks your clit, circling the sensitive bud with his tongue. He nips at your folds, sucking one, then the other between his plump lips, then focuses his attention back at your clit. You’re moaning his name, the only word you know anymore. Joel keeps you still, held tight in his arms so that you can’t push your ass back and grind against his mouth like he knows you’re fighting to do. All you can do is take it, feel his perfect aquiline nose tease between your cheeks. He’s buried himself face first in your most private place as he consumes you voraciously, his tongue flicking and swirling and painting you. You’re biting into your own arm, seeing stars as you come on his tongue. It’s an elusive sort of orgasm, the kind where you don’t exactly know where it begins and it ends. All you know is that you’re sensitive, so fucking sensitive and Joel is relentless. Your knees buckle as he toys with your clit, gives you a break for a moment before he’s right back there again, continuing to eat you. He keeps going and going, repeating the actions over and over again just to make you cry and beg, “Stop - please - I can’t, I can’t, Joel. T-too much.”

“Know it’s too much, sweetheart, s’why I’m doin it,” Joel coos. But he obliges, places one last kiss to your heat, soaked by his spit and your own arousal before he stands up behind you. He wraps one arm around your stomach, pulling himself close to you. You can feel his hard cock against your ass, separated only by his denim as he uses his other hand to turn your face to the side, meeting him beside you. He kisses you, tracing his tongue along the seam of your lips, licking into your mouth. You taste yourself on his tongue, then feel his hand leave your face to reach for his fly. You hear him unzip his jeans slowly, and then he’s pulling his cock out, still kissing you as he lines up with you, first parting your thighs with a gentle nudge of his knee before notching his tip at your entrance. He finally pulls his mouth away from yours and gently forces your chest down toward the washer. He pushes himself into you, careful so as not to hurt you but deliberately so that you still feel that ache, the stretch of his thick cock separating your insides. Joel continues holding your body close to his as he reaches for your hand with his free one, interlacing his fingers in between your own.  “How about my cock, sweetheart? You like it better, worse?” he whispers, kissing, nipping at your ear in between words. He pulls out of you nearly all the way, then pushes back into your dripping cunt. 

You try to answer, “Bet - oh, ahhh,” 

Joel chuckles at the way he’s reduced you to nothing but broken syllables and moans. “Ohhh, listen to you. I think it’s better, huh? S’that what you’re tryin’ to tell me?” You nod frantically. “Yeah, I know, beautiful.”

His pace is slower to start, but it builds in quick time. You can feel he’s fighting with himself to be more gentle than he actually wants to be, his thrusts sloppier than he intends, like he’s losing himself in you. You’re lost in him, lost in the moment all the same. You take it all in, the lewd and obscene sounds of the pleasure he creates with you - his thighs slapping against yours and the gushing of your cunt on his cock. Your moans, your cries, all babbling nonsense. And Joel’s deep breaths in and out, shaky and stuttering as he does it. His grunts and his swearing, a whimper here and there if you listen closely. He fills you up perfectly, hits that sweet spot deep inside you over and over and over…

“You coulda had me like this the whole time,” he pants, “Didn’t have to go an’ break my washer f’ya needed somethin’ more than those fingers of yours, sweetheart. Know you been needin’ some lovin’.”  He reaches for your breasts, squeezing and groping the flesh, twisting your nipples and smirking when you twitch and whine. “All you had to do was ask.” You don’t respond, but he doesn’t expect you to anyway. What he did expect, however, were your moans of displeasure as he pulls out of you. He knows, oh, he knows how empty you must feel, you poor thing.  He’ll soothe that. He flips you around, seats you on his washer. “I’m gonna make you come again,” he promises, “I’m gonna watch.”

 “Too much, Joel, I can’t,” you cry. You want to come again, really. But you don’t think you have it in you, still so worked up, overstimulated by the endless teasing of his tongue on your pussy.

 “Oh, don’t cry. You can do it, hon. You can take it,” he says, “Open up those legs for me, darlin’.” Joel pushes your trembling legs wide so he can slot his hips between them, then wraps your legs around his waist before sliding his cock into you once more. He thrusts just once, rather harshly, before he’s met with another rather loud noise from the washer. Joel halts and scratches the back of his neck. God, he hopes he didn’t just do it in. “Probably shouldn’t…uh…”

“Yeah,” you agree. 

“Did you use my dryer too?”

“Duh,” you answer. “How else would I dry my clothes?”

Joel rolls his eyes, “No, smartass. Were you usin’ it for your dirty work, is what I’m askin’.”

“No.” 

Still inside you, Joel slides you over to his dryer. “Good girl. Poor washer’s been abused plenty by you already.”  

“But I will,” You whisper defiantly under your breath, wrapping your arms around his neck as he adjusts. 

“Wrong ear, sweetheart. My right one’s deaf. I heard that loud and clear.”

Joel’s back to fucking you in an instant. He wastes no time in making good on his promise, thumbing your clit as he rolls his hips into you. “See, look at you. Takin’ me just fine,” he praises.The way you squirm and take your shallow little breaths fills him with satisfaction and delight. He knows this isn’t easy, that you’re tired and sore and overstimulated. He’ll be done with you soon. “Come with me, wanna feel you come with me, sweetheart,” he says. “Focus here, eyes on me. You’re gonna come with me.” 

It’s a few moments of Joel painting your clit with those tight, steadied circles as he fucks you hard and deep. There’s a push and pull to it, where you’re not sure who this is for - yourself or Joel. Just like before, you’re not sure where it starts and stops, but you’re there. God it’s intense, you’re gonna break and you know it. Joel’s got his palm on the back of your neck, squeezing you. His jaw clenches and he’s coming undone first, but he never loses focus on you. His thrusts stutter as he milks himself in you but doesn't yet stop - he’s making sure you’re gonna come. “C’mon baby, c’mon. Give it to me,” he says. “One more for me. Last one.” 

His words are all it takes. You whimper and moan, cry his name as you find your climax. Release washes over you the way waves crash onto sand - it’s repeated, the way the tides push and pull. Deafening. Powerful. 

But there’s a calmness yet. The rolling of his hips slows, slows, stops. He presses his damp forehead against yours, breathing deeply. “You’re okay,” he murmurs. “You’re okay?”

You nod and smile, “Yeah, I’m good.” He smiles with you and helps you off of the dryer. Joel finds your clothes and dresses you in them, steadying your shaky legs. 

Joel tentatively restarts the washer. It chugs a bit, but makes all the right noises and he breathes a sigh of relief. You’re a bit startled when he takes you by the arm and marches you up the stairs. “New rule,” he says, “You stay with me when your clothes are washin’.”

You bite your lip to hide your guilty smirk. “Yes. Joel.” 

“And I still need you to cut them veggies for me, too.” 

I struggled heavily with this fic, comments and reblogs would be much appreciated if you were feeling so inclined🙏 they keep me motivated and I look back at your words when I’m writing to remember that I’m capable of pleasing you all

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #the last of us hbo #joel miller fanfic #joel the last of us #tlou joel #pedro pascal x reader

[14dayswithyou]

💖 Day 3.5 is now available! 💖

For the last couple of months, only Server Boosters had access to the 3.5 update... Buuuuut now it's available for everyone to play in the 14DWY Discord — and soon itch.io once I'm happy with the QA and state of the game — so please don't feel pressured to join unless you want to!!

The full devlog + even more screenshots are under the cut ^^

What's been added to the 3.5 version?

📺 Streamer Mode!

I've been told that it's difficult to stream and monetise age-restricted videos on YouTube and Twitch, so I added an option to remove the sexual content and strong language used in the demo.

Now y'all can invite Ren into your bed for cuddles without putting your streamer career on the line /silly /lh

This won't affect the 18+ rating or dark themes/elements of the game, however! Although Streamer Mode will prevent you from seeing any "gruesome" CGs in the future, most of the core elements of the game will still be tied to the choices and decisions you make. So you won't miss out on the overall experience by using streamer mode!!

⚙️ Custom Pronouns!

It only took me one entire year to get around to it, but you can finally choose your own preferred pronouns (or use a set of pronouns instead)... At the cost of being able to change them mid-game ^^;

Since the original pronoun screen wouldn't update until a new scene was displayed, I temporarily disabled the feature. But once I find a workaround, I'll bring it back!

💗 Choose how others perceive you!

You can now choose how the cast and narration perceive you! Originally, the narration was kept strictly gender-neutral (outside of pronouns and genitalia picked by the player), but this will soon change in future updates.

For more clarity: you don't get to choose the words specifically, but you can choose between masculine, feminine, and androgynous terms!

📋 Separate top and bottom genitalia!

You can now choose your tatas and pps separately! >:3

Alongside that, you can also choose your preferred body type!

I removed the "both" genitalia option because a few players still assumed it was an obscure version of "intersex". That wasn't my intention and I don't want to mislead anyone, so I took it out for now ^^;

I also didn't want to include a screenshot of the new genitalia choices in action (because it's NSFW), so y'all get the same character menu screen for the nth time instead lmao

📱 Relationship Screen Overhaul!

You can now change your own status for more immersion, and long-term Server Boosters will eventually be able to submit and use their own icon within the game as well!

Stalking finding your friends has now become easier by using "Buddy Maps"; a new app that allows you to see the location of all the cast members!

I want to offer players more incentive to check the relationship screen since they tend to miss the status updates, so hopefully this might help ;v;

It also says it "updates every few hours" so folks don't go overboard and check every 5 seconds to see where Ren is gdsghf (also keep in mind that he's a hacker lol)

🖤 Additional Scenes Update!

Day 2 received a brand new CG!!!!! Originally, I planned on only adding a few CGs sporadically throughout the game, but it didn't feel right to leave Day 2 so... empty... so I added a brand new CG to (hopefully) make things feel more balanced and natural!

If you decline Teo's offer on Day 3, Leon will now call and try to convince you to reconsider. However, players are still allowed to decline, and if they do, they'll reach a dead end.

After listening to feedback on itch, I changed some of the dialogue during Days 1-3 to make it seem more consistent! They're only small changes though, so it's honestly not worth looking for sdgjssga

🎶 Updated BGM and SFX!

I wanted to try out a different style of music to see if it fits the vibe of 14DWY more! The BGM features more acoustics to suit the "beachy" theme of Corland Bay, though I made a conscious effort to include piano elements as well to stay true to the original!!

I figured it'd be better to give players a live example before I make a poll (to see if they prefer the change or not) and publish it to Itch.

Some new SFX have also been added, though it's very minimal and honestly not that noticeable.

How to download and play the update?

(warning: clicking on the following links will open Discord!!) To download the Day 3.5 update, simply join the 14DWY Discord server, verify your age, and visit the "14dwy-updates" channel!

Alternatively, you can also wait until the update is publicly released on Itch to play it as well!! (It normally gets released shortly after a round of QA testing/getting feedback from the server, though I may release it earlier if I feel like it hehe ^^)

Enjoy!!

#14 days with you #14dwy #💖 — 14 days with queue. #🖤 — updates. #🖤 — spoilers. #I'm not gonna say much about my current doxxing situation because I've got it under control now + it's being handled privately #Plus I don't wanna give it/the people involved any unnecessary attention. I just wanna announce the update and Get Back To It™️ #(''it'' bein the grind 💪 It never stops lmao /silly) #OG followers will also know that these topics aren't the vibe I normally have on this blog (or any of my accounts); so I don't think I'll— #—make ANOTHER public post about the situation and bring more attention to it (when I just want everything to be over and put to rest ^^;) #However I also don't want people to think that I'm... ignoring?? the situation entirely (because gettin doxxed is a very endangering thing) #So I DO want to quickly acknowledge it here and say that it's all currently handled + I'm safe and okay + this won't stop me from— #—continuing to work on 14DWY (and other future projects). I also don't want to give these awful people more power and incentive to continue #—this kind of pathetic behaviour; so the less attention and encouragement being shown will ultimately be better in the long run :3 #Aaaaaanways!! 😮‍💨 #My other accounts will be restored shortly and my askbox will be opened once I feel comfortable. I'll get around to following folks— #—again in my own time; so please don't feel offended if I unfollowed you during a moment of vulnerability and anxiety!! #This is all EXTREMELY overwhelming and scary for someone with SAD/AvPD; and I /gen can't handle seeing it all over my timeline ;v; #Sorry this got ranty and personal again hjdsgjsdh T_T I said I wouldn't say much; so I'll shut up now hehe #🖤 — shut up sai.