#maroon is actually the tallest | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

macfrog · 2 months

Text

san angelo | one shot

what happens when joel miller meets his star-crossed lover?

big love to @mrsmando and @5oh5 for cheering me on with this one, and @bageldaddy for being my eyes, my ears, and - only sometimes - my brain.

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader summary: it's the summer of two thousand eight. after two weeks following his little brother cross-country on the back of a harley, joel follows him through the doors of a dive bar - where fate delivers him to you. warnings: story is inserted into canon, so cordyceps outbreak happens, sarah dies (off-page), joel dissociates, doomed love, lots of mention of fate, alcohol consumption, reader is a smoker, cursing, drunken one-night stand, oral sex, unprotected piv, joel's cock is massive, a lot of angst, a lot of fluff, a lil smut to tie it all together. enjoy! word count: 9.8k

moodboard | main masterlist | playlist [in case you wanna vibe in sad] | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🤍

Palm lines.

It’s the first thing he thinks as soon as she stops moving in his arms. The second her little whimpers cease, the moment her chest stops heaving and her eyes glaze over. Suddenly, Joel’s little girl weighs more than he can bear.

Palm lines. And he has no fucking idea why.

He closes his eyes and there you are. The whir of the ceiling fan, the tinkling of bracelets loose on your wrist. You have sorta earth hands, you told him. Or, well – they could be water, if you look at ‘em this way. I don’t really know. I’m still learning.

You told him that air hands were long, spindly. And Sarah was always a lanky kid – tallest on the soccer team, head and shoulders above the other girls by the third grade. Her hands, he thinks, must be air. They must be.

Her fingers are still twisted around his right now. Lifeless, slippery with the blood still wet and quickly cooling.

Joel cradles her, squeezing so hard that he wonders whether he might be able to fuse their bodies together. Lock them in some white-knuckle grip so that he never has to let go of her – never has to leave this hill covered in dirt and blood.

His palms are ruined; a maroon river carving its way down his heart line, dirt deep in the groove of his life line. Why does he even fucking remember what they’re called?

Why the fuck are you what he’s thinking about, right now?

“Tommy,” he says, opening his eyes again. “We gotta…we gotta get to…”

She’s limp, draped over his thighs as though she’s nothing more than a stretch of crimson curtain. He looks down at her and begs her to come back, begs her to open her eyes and look up at him again.

But the night is passing and she’s still not breathing. Dawn is breaking and Joel’s daughter is dead.

He sucks in a shattered breath. “…to San Angelo, Tommy.”

The younger Miller stuffs his gun into the back of his jeans and paces over, soles coated thick in shit and grass. “I hear you, Joel.”

“You ain’t listenin’ to me, I –”

“I’m listenin’ fine, Joel.” Tommy hooks his hands under his niece’s arms. “Now, help me lift her. We can’t…” his voice strains, fighting the death grip his brother has on the girl, “…we can’t leave her here.”

Joel’s frozen to the spot; sinking further and further into the earth. Staring at his open hands, the stains like rust on his palms. He says to San Angelo again, and Tommy snaps.

“Jesus, Joel, enough! I’ve heard enough goddamn it! I see your hands, now – we gotta fuckin’ bury Sarah.”

Your fate line, your nail tickled, and Joel held his hand steady, It can change, if something big is coming.

Somethin’ big? he asked. A little younger, a lot more naïve. Still a healthy dose of belief in the world, an echo of the god-fearing faith that raised him.

His hand felt so light, cradled in two of yours. He half hoped he’d never have to let go – just lie there with you forever. Your legs tangled with his, the sheets disturbed; the room injected with amber from the streetlights outside.

You nodded. A big shift, or something.

And he scoffed. He actually scoffed, right there and then. Incredulous. The hell kinda big shift is comin’ our way? he asked, laughing.

You just smiled back, shrugging. You were so fucking casual, that whole night. It would’ve unnerved him, if he hadn’t been so swept off by the sparkle in your eye, the glowing cherry of your cigarette.

Guess we just gotta wait ‘n see.

It’s August thirtieth, two thousand eight.

Almost five thousand miles on the back of a Harley, and Joel just wants to go home.

He arches his aching back, palms flat against the crests of his hips, and blinks in the light from the food mart in front of him. Twenty-six, he thinks to himself, only twenty-fuckin’-six.

It’s ninety degrees out. An uncomfortable heat, for a man who feels ten years older than he really is. For a man who hasn’t had a decent shower in almost two weeks. For a man who’s spent the last six hours tailing the brake lights of his little brother’s bike.

The sweat gathers sticky between his shoulder blades, prickles along the nape of his neck. There’s dust spattered down his bare arms and buried in the grooves of his knuckles.

He’s tired. He’s tired, he’s dirty, and goddamn, he wishes he was back home.

He holds a hand up to shield his eyes from the sun, the yellow sky melting to a purple haze. Squinting, he follows the soar of two swallows overhead, looping through the sky, until he’s rubbing the image from his eyes with the back of his wrist.

He’s gotta remember to call Sarah before she goes to bed.

The door opens with the tinkle of a brass bell older and rustier than Joel feels. A swaggering figure splits the glow from the store in two – a figure with a pack of Marlboros in one hand and an already half-empty bottle of water in the other.

Tommy holds them both out to Joel, who swipes the water with a scowl.

“Ain’t killed you yet, brother,” Tommy scoffs, stuffing the cigarettes into his back pocket. He swings a frayed-denim leg over the seat of his Harley.

Joel drains the bottle, panting as he crushes the plastic in one fist. “Damn near tryin’,” he mutters, tossing it in the trash. He runs his tongue across his bottom lip.

“Where are we?” Tommy asks. He glances over his shoulder, staring from the cracked roads to the telephone wires overhead. A Syclone pulls into the lot; a dehydrated squeal as it rolls to a halt.

“San Angelo,” Joel says. “Only a few more hours to go.” He settles on his own bike, pulling his leather jacket over his shoulders. “We passed a Super 8 coming into town, if you feel like restin’ up. Or – we leave now, be home around midnight.”

Tommy chuckles. “What’s the rush? We ain’t gotta be anywhere anytime soon.”

And Joel agrees – for the most part.

His mom is watching Sarah while they’re gone, and he reckons she’s hardly missing him. Too smart for her own good, Joel’s realizing: plotting and scheming her way into staying up past her bedtime, drinking Pepsi at dinner, watching Curtis and Viper – and swearing that her dad lets her do it all, too.

But, still. He misses his kid.

It’s the most they’ve ever been apart – time or distance. The longest he hasn’t had her climbing up his back or hanging off his arm. The least he’s been called Dad since he was eighteen years old.

He just…misses his kid.

He sighs, drumming his fingers on the body of the bike. “Tommy, I gotta get back home to Sarah.”

“Look,” Tommy says, and Joel knows that the argument is lost already, “By the time we got back, she’d be asleep anyways. Let’s leave in the morning – first thing, I swear – and we’ll be home in time for breakfast. Deal?”

They stare at one another, a stand-off in the parking lot. Both waiting for the other to break. The swallows gather on the roof of the store, basking in the weak wash of flickering fluorescents.

“Come on, brother,” Tommy pleads, “It’s one more night.” He lifts his helmet, punching it over his mop of shaggy hair, and kicks the bike to life.

Joel growls to himself, watching it drift over to the side of the road.

He considers heading to the Super 8 alone, grabbing a room only to shower and get some food, then hitting the road and leaving his little brother in the dust. Waiting for him to stumble through the door tomorrow morning – tired, groggy, probably hungover – while Joel, fresh as a daisy, drizzles syrup over Sarah’s pancakes and pours her orange juice.

He’s a pragmatic man. He’s a grown-up. Scares away the ghosts and ghouls and monsters of his daughter’s nightmares. Shushes her back to sleep in the crook of his arm, tiptoes as lightly as he can out of her room so as not to wake her.

Things like God, like the universe, things like horoscopes and laws of attraction…for the most part, Joel can do without them. Has done his whole life.

But then – the glow of indigo overhead, and the mysterious shadows lurking behind the buildings. The birdsong tittering in his ears, the twinkle of the sun in Tommy’s helmet – something distant in the dusty sphere.

Something, someone, winking at him from far away.

Something a little heavier than the breeze nudges at his spine, and Joel’s arms lift – fitting his own helmet over his head. He swings the heel of his boot into his kickstand and revs the bike, Harley roaring as it joins Tommy’s out on the boulevard.

Murphy’s is a small, green bar on the corner of an intersection. All peeled paint lettering and buzzing fluorescents – the y burnt out and pulsing.

Joel doesn’t think Tommy picked it for any reason other than the huge Lone Star mural on the side of the goddamn building, the way he tosses his thumb to it as they park up. A squint smirk on his face, muttering something like ‘s good to be home, big brother, as they hook helmets over handlebars.

Tommy leads Joel inside, their boots tacky on the wooden floor. Walls paneled by aged frames and sun-bleached photographs; air hanging thick with a smell like vinegar. The babble of slurred conversation is pierced by the sharp crack of pool balls breaking.

Metal-plate belt buckles snaked through strained jeans; low eyes which shift to size-up the two strangers. They all turn back to their fingerprinted glasses when Joel and Tommy settle into an empty booth.

It feels hotter in here than it is outside, stuffier. A thick humidity which clings to Joel’s bones, humming like the string lights draped from beams above his head.

Tommy reclines between the creaking leather cushion and the wall. He pokes at a yellowing poster of some Western, hums to himself, and then looks across the table.

Joel’s eyes loop once around the room before they meet his brother’s. “What?” he asks.

“First round is yours, old man.”

“Oh, is it, now?” He cocks an eyebrow. “Thought this was your idea?”

A weedy grin stretches across Tommy’s lips. He needs to fucking shave, Joel thinks. Whiskers poking from around his small mouth like pine needles. “’s my birthday trip,” he reasons.

And can Joel argue with that? Does he have the fucking energy? Will it get him out of here and back to Austin any quicker?

“Goddamn it,” he grumbles. He pushes himself to his feet, heels of his palms against the tacky wood.

He wanders over to the bar, tugging on the front of his tee to unstick it from his damp chest. Slots in beside an ivory cowboy hat with a pair of jeaned legs. The man fixes his bolo tie and watches Joel’s hand as he flags the bartender down.

And then he feels it.

You.

Then he feels you.

First, the weight of you – crashing some into his back. He shunts forward from the suddenness of it, knocking his ribs against the bar, and lifts a hand to brace himself on the ledge.

And then – heat, like an iron. Like every hair and freckle on your skin is branded into his the second you come into contact with him. A feeling like the roll of a wave against his spine, a hand hooked around his forearm when he begins to turn.

“Shit,” you hiss, steadying yourself on the curve of his shoulder. You glance down at your feet, clicking between your black boots. “I’m sorry, that was…that was my bad.”

“’s alright,” Joel says instantly. He holds his arm still until you let go and he sidesteps – though only a little. He watches, dumbstruck, as you rest your elbows on the bar and lean forward. His eyes linger on your back, trailing the crisscross straps wrapped tight over your spine.

You squint up at the menu pinned above shelves of crystal bottles. Your eyes move back and forth across the chalkboard, slowly descending until they’re meeting his in the speckled mirror opposite – a sweet smile growing on your lips.

It runs like whiskey through Joel’s veins: warm and dangerous.

And the way his head spins, the way the world blurs for a moment into one swipe of color around you; the way your cooing laugh echoes between his ears long after he’s heard it –

Joel’s already intoxicated.

He’s still staring when you pull back and motion to the bar. “You can go first, by the way,” you say, waving a hand. “I wasn’t cuttin’ in line. Just trying to read the drinks.”

“I’ll wait,” he replies, remembering how to be polite, how to be charming. Old cogs long out of use jerking to life inside him again. “Can’t read any of ‘em, either, anyways.”

It draws from you that same little laugh, a puff of air from your nostrils. You nod, biting your bottom lip.

He’s quickly forgetting why he’s stood in this room, why he’s in this city. He’d probably forget his own fucking name if you asked him right now what it was.

“’nother drink, darlin’?” a low voice interrupts, and you’re turning away.

Joel’s eyes follow you – a moth chasing something golden and radiant – as you face the wiggle of a snow-white mustache poking from beneath the brim of that ivory cowboy hat.

You shake your head, lifting two fingers with a bill slipped between them. “I’m good, thanks, George. Maybe next round.” You wave to the kid behind the bar – some name that Joel’s too fucking mindless to hear. Too distracted by the glint in your eye, the sparkle of your crescent moon earrings in the light.

If only he knew this feeling. If only he could put a name to it. As familiar as the sun and yet, brand new like dawn. His stomach swirls in a fleet of butterflies – as though he’s fifteen again, bumping elbows with his high school crush.

You nudge him, thumb pointing in the direction of the bartender.

Joel shakes his head. “Ladies first,” he says, heart skipping when you hold his stare.

“Nuh-uh,” you shake your head, “Told you I ain’t jumping in.”

He asks the guy for two beers, barely taking his eyes off you. “Alright,” he leans in, lowering his voice, “Then let me buy you a drink. Make up for gettin’ in your way just then.”

You prop your chin on your knuckles, grinning as you push your twenty around the wooden bar top, dodging pooled rings of alcohol like it’s an arcade game. “I don’t do that,” you say, eyes tracing the slick trail left by the bill.

“Do what?”

“Accept drinks from strange men in bars.”

His tongue presses against the back of his teeth, the taste of humor honey-sweet. “Yeah? ‘n how long have you known…” he nods to the – what is he, sixty? Sixty-five? – year-old on your right, “…George?”

Your gaze lifts, eyes wide. Apparently as impressed by Joel’s confidence as he is himself. “We’re actually in a very serious relationship. Marriage proposal imminent.”

“Damn,” he mutters as the bartender reappears with two Coors, “And here I thought I had half a chance.”

You hum to yourself, studying him. Looking from his jaw across the span of his shoulders, his wide-knuckled hands and then back to his lips. Curious and wary, judging the strange animal stood before you.

And he knows he’s weathered from the weeks on the road, and all the years before that. Dirt under his nails and the light sheen of sun on his forehead. The flecks of gray through his thick, brown beard.

You take a deep breath, eyes twinkling, and tell him, “I’m here with my friend.”

“Ain’t that lucky?” Joel glances at Tommy. “I’m here with my brother.”

You look across to the dirty blond, sat tilting a glass candle in his hand. “He single?”

Joel nods. “Is she?”

You nod.

“Alright. You wanna come sit with us?”

Your smirk answers his question. You take the beers, rings clinking off the glass. “Rum,” you call over your shoulder, wandering off, “I drink rum.”

Joel’s gaze lowers to the sway of your hips. “Rum it is,” he says, turning back to the bar.

“So…a cross-country bike trip, and you wound up in San Angelo?”

You’re on your fourth drink, the first one Joel hasn’t paid for – and he only allowed it because it’s a Diet Coke (and maybe you got to the bar first, held his wrists with one hand so he couldn’t stop you from slapping your own money down).

“Yep,” Joel replies, pinching the lime from his drink and dropping it onto a napkin. “Just passin’ through. Shower, sleep, then head on home.”

“Where’s that, then? Home?”

“Austin.”

“Austin,” you pout, “Nice.”

Joel smirks, licking citrus from his fingertips. “Is it?”

“I’ve never been to Austin,” Brooke chirps, fiddling with the umbrella in her piña colada. She twirls the paper canopy and glances up to Tommy.

He snaps out of his slack-jawed gaze when he realizes what she’s implying. “Oh – yeah, well…” his head wobbles as he stutters, “…you two ever come down that way, we’d be happy to, uh…show ya ‘round, huh, Joel?”

Joel doesn’t reply, staring back at his brother with the same amused expression you are.

You’ve been an inch apart all evening – doused in the dive bar darkness, the shrouded conversations and muffled TV static. The tip of your nose and curve of your shoulders lit only by the luminous signs dotting the walls.

Tommy and Brooke are already deep in conversation again about the best car Tommy ever owned. Joel watches as your eyes flit between the pair, entertained by the way they trip over each other’s sentences. Your cheeks lift when Brooke lays a hand over Tommy’s, and he squeezes her fingers back.

Where did you come from? Joel’s thinking. He takes a swig of his whiskey, feeling your eyes on him. As he lowers his glass, you lift yours. When he turns in his seat towards you, you’re already facing him, back against the wainscotting. He smiles, and so do you.

Every movement feels choreographed, some merry dance only you two know. You’re in your own little world.

Where did you come from, again, and where have you been my entire fucking life?

“So, what about you?” Joel asks instead, swallowing – all warm-bellied and brave. “You grow up here?”

You shake your head, taking another sip. “Nope. Just liked it enough to hang up my coat for a few months. I grew up in Phoenix.”

“You travel a lot?”

“I’ve been around. This is the longest I’ve stayed in one place since I was a kid.”

He thinks of home: of Austin and its silver-snake river, burnt-orange jerseys and the pleated bunting lining Sixth Street. He thinks of late nights on lawn chairs, nursing a beer and shooting the shit with his brother. Keeping their voices lower than the buzz of the cicadas, looking more at the dusky sky than at each other.

“You don’t ever get tired of it?” Joel asks. “Of moving around so much?”

You scoff, breath clouding the inside of your glass. “Three weeks on a motorcycle starting to get to you, huh?”

He breathes a laugh, loose again. The cicadas fade from his ears.

Your head tilts in a shrug. “I don’t know. I guess the universe keeps on surprising me.”

Joel doesn’t do this. At least, he hasn’t done this since he was a teenager – crate of beer under his arm and a chest full of courage. He’s long forgotten the feeling of heat blooming in his cheeks, the twitch of his heart anytime you look at him.

But fuck, if there isn’t something about you. Something in the way you move, the way you look at him. Something in the way you play with your straw, knocking ice cubes around and chewing on the plastic once you’ve drained the glass.

Something – though it’s a little too early and Joel’s a little too tipsy to tell just what. He tries to remember that he’s pragmatic. A grown-up. He chases away the monsters in his daughter’s –

“Oh, shit,” Joel says suddenly, scrambling to pull his cell from his pocket. It’s nine thirty. He was supposed to – “I forgot…”

A miserable tone from his Motorola cuts him short. The screen flashes an empty battery before fading to black. He jams a thumb into the keypad a couple more times, cursing at the winking symbol.

“Someone you gotta call?” you ask.

He meets your eye and winces. “Yeah, I’m…I said I’d call an hour ago.”

“You wanna use mine?” You twist around, fishing in your purse for your own. “We can go outside.”

“No, no, it’s…it’s alright, I’m sure she won’t mind, she –”

You shake your head. “Shut up. Come on, let’s go. I could use some fresh air, anyways. Be back in a minute,” you tell Brooke – who nods and turns straight back to Tommy.

Joel extends his hand to help you out of the booth, then follows you to the door. The cool air tugs every nerve in his body to attention, pin-sharp when he steps out of that lazy heat. Under the emerald glow of the Murphy’s sign, he settles his glass on a window ledge. “Next round’s on me, alright?”

You roll your eyes, pushing the phone against his chest. “Just call, Joel.”

One last apologetic glance, and then he’s dialing. He makes to wander along the curb, the tone already pulsing in his ear, when he notices –

“You ain’t brought a jacket?”

You’re sitting on the ledge, clutching your elbows. Swatting midges from the light you’re bathed in, charms on your bracelets jingling. “Hm?”

He tuts. “A jacket. Here.” He shrugs his own off, sitting it around your frame. It’s warm from the bar and from Joel’s body heat, and you sink into it – letting the dark leather drown you as you rummage through your purse again.

“Nice,” Joel’s eyes narrow, “Fresh air.”

You hum into your hands, flicking your lighter. The cigarette trembles when you murmur, “We all got our skeletons, I guess.”

He turns on his heel when a familiar voice picks up.

“Hey, hey, M–Yeah, sorry it’s late…Yeah, we got held up. My phone died, so I’m using…Is she still–? Can I–? Oh, Sarah. Hi, baby.”

His little girl begins chattering down the line immediately, telling Joel everything she’s been up to since they last spoke this morning.

“…and then, Emily thought I was one of the Armadillos – I don’t even know how, ‘cause they play in red, remember Dad? – but she did, and she slide tackled me so bad that Coach Thomson had to sub in Akari for me so I could ice my ankle. Grandma was kinda mad about it, but she took me to Burger King after to cheer me up, and…”

Joel wanders back and forth, smiling to himself and scuffing the heel of his boot along the concrete – barely able to squeeze more than two words between her chirping. It’s all, Yeah, baby? and Wow, sweetheart; all uhuhs and mhms until she finally quietens, excitement plateauing again.

“Alright, well. You know what time it is, right?”

“Yeah,” Sarah groans. She knows it all too well.

Bedtime.

“…But you didn’t call when you said you would, Daddy, and it’s Saturday, it’s –”

“I know, baby, I know. I’m sorry. Just…somethin’ came up. But I’ll see you tomorrow, right? We’ll be back before you know it.”

“Where’s Uncle Tommy? Can I talk to him?”

Joel turns to face the bar. “He, uh…I’m not with him right now, sweetheart. I’ll tell him you asked after him, though.”

Sarah concedes, and then begins asking questions Joel knows she’s only asking to stay on the line a little longer – to stay awake a little later. But still, he answers each one – humoring her and, at the same time, letting himself listen to her voice just a little more before he has to let her go.

He thinks of scooping her up in the morning; thinks of being slumped on the couch after dinner with her head on his stomach – fast asleep with whatever movie she chose droning on in the background.

Despite the thousands of miles and close to two weeks between them – she makes him feel closer to home. She always does.

When Sarah asks where he is, he glances your way. Clocks your flat expression, the half-burnt cigarette hanging from your fingers.

You flick ash to the ground. Eyes unreadable beneath low brows, a tiny crease between them that Joel’s only just seeing for the first time.

“Uh…” he clears his throat, “…just a little – a little north of you, baby. Home first thing, I promise.”

He tells her he loves her and she says it back, and he tells her to sleep well and she says that back, too. And then he’s hanging up – Alright, see you soon, bye, Sarah, bye-bye, byebyebye – and pressing his thumb into the red button.

He wanders back over to you – ears flat like a guilty dog, though he isn’t quite sure why. He mumbles a quiet thanks as he passes the phone back, then stuffs his hands in his pockets.

You lean back, ankles crossed, studying him. Swirling what’s left of the cigarette in your fingers – the smoke lifting like a winding snake to the dark sky. “So,” you pout, “What are you doing flirting with me, if you got a wife and kid back home?”

His jaw ticks, a hand coming up to scratch his beard. “I don’t have a wife,” he says.

You stare blankly, filter back against your lips. “Okay, then – a girlfriend. Does she know you’re out tonight with us?”

He shakes his head. “No wife, no girlfriend. I don’t have an anything.”

“But you have a kid.”

Joel nods once, tongue in his cheek. “Uhuh.”

And then the penny seems to drop. A small oh; your jaw slack and eyes wide. The cigarette smolders between your fingers. “Fuck,” you whisper, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“No, hey,” Joel steps closer, “You didn’t know. It’s alright.”

He straightens the jacket on your shoulders. When you finally look at each other again, you snort.

“Sorry,” you repeat, shaking your head. “Is she okay? Your daughter – is she…?”

“Sarah,” Joel says. “She’s…she’s fine. Thanks.”

You look down, stubbing your cigarette against the brick. Voice quiet, you ask, “Her mom’s not around anymore?”

Relief settles in his chest: you’re softening to him again.

Joel slots onto the ledge at your side. Shoulder to shoulder. He reaches behind and lifts his drink. “Not since she was a year old.”

Your mouth pulls in a wince. “Jesus. That’s rough.”

He doesn’t reply. He doesn’t have to – you’re not asking him to explain – and he doesn’t want to, either.

You’re not stupid – you’ve seen enough of the world to hear what he’s really saying. The darkest, dustiest corners of it – all the places no one ever wants to look.

You don’t seem disturbed, barely even moved by the reality that…well, shit happens. People leave, families break; a two-car driveway is suddenly taken up by just a pick-up truck and a little pink bike with tassels.

He figures you get it. You don’t need to know how can that be? – you just…know that it can.

“So, uh…” you look up at him again, “…my apartment is, like, five minutes away if you wanna…you know. You can charge your phone, can shower – if it’s bugging you that much.”

Joel’s eyebrows lift. “Oh, really?”

You simper, eyes thin. “Really.”

“Charge my phone ‘n shower?” He stands, palm flat against the wall above your head, and leans in. His face is inches from yours.

You look up, mirroring his expression. “Yes,” your voice curls in a half-truth, “What’s the big deal?”

“What a goddamn line,” Joel says, smirking. “How long you been sittin’ on that one for?”

His blood thrums faster, harder, louder in his veins when you stand up, hands on your hips.

“It’s not a line, I’m serious –”

“I didn’t take you as the type, baby, I really didn’t – but if that’s how you wanna play this, then –”

He feels you before he sees you moving, like he’s stood at that bar all over again. Your hands on his jaw, your chest pressed to his. Your lips – soft as satin, with a tinge of sweet rum and smoke – against his.

Joel barely misses a beat. He closes his eyes and lifts a hand to the back of your head, kissing you back. It’s dizzying, the taste and feel of you so close; the wet of your tongue on his. The little scratches of your nails in his beard, the moans caught in your throat.

Dizzying – and fucking perfect.

You break apart and lean in to each other, catching your breath. Joel’s hands slip beneath the heavy leather of his jacket onto your waist.

“Unless…” you whisper, pulling away from him, “…you don’t want to. In which case, I’ll just…” You twirl back towards the door, batting your eyelashes.

Joel smiles. He catches your wrist and reels you back into his body. “I want to,” he breathes, kissing you again. “I want to.”

“Let’s go.”

You make it to your apartment door, fumbling with your keys – and Joel’s hands are glued to your waist.

You miss the lock over and over as he kisses your neck, grazing the skin with his teeth. Anything to satiate the hunger quickly taking over, the tightening in his jeans.

He pulls you against his hips – rough denim grinding into the curve of your ass. He can smell your flowery perfume, a strange melding of peony and menthol sharp in his nostrils.

It’s the hungriest he’s ever felt, he thinks – a starved animal pinning his prey to her flecked apartment door. He pauses, bottom lip damp against your neck; breathing a liquor-laced laugh over your skin.

You jam the key into the lock. The door finally shunts open and you spill inside, dragging Joel with you.

Your place is dark. Angled strips of streetlight thrown high up the bare walls and across the ceiling, splintered by tilted shades. The spill of a blanket draped over an empty couch; a pair of sneakers left on the rug. Joel’s knees brush by a houseplant guarding the door – heavy leaves which pfft when they sway out of his way.

It’s half-decorated. Temporary. Caught somewhere between home and away. Little fragments pieced together into something the shape of home: a mosaic vase that scatters light across the surface of the coffee table; a beaded curtain pinned around the closet doorway.

Like you’re a little magpie, collecting trinkets of silver and gold until your nest feels like yours. Bags dropped long enough to keep a Monstera plant alive, not to put nails in the wall for the frames propped against the skirting board.

You shrug Joel’s jacket off, dropping it over the back of the couch. When you spin back around to him, he lifts your chin with two fingers and presses his lips to yours. You lead him down the hallway, tumbling into your room.

He follows you over to your bed, collapsing onto a tousled mess of sheets with his hips between yours. The hem of your dress rides up your thighs, bunching around your hips and revealing a flash of pink lace underneath.

The world around him seems to sober up for a second, sharpens into focus. It begins to seep in: the realization that he has you – some girl he met no more than two hours ago in a bar – pinned to your mattress. A slick gathering in your underwear and a weight building in his.

Right now, he should be sinking into squealing bedsprings in a Super 8. Bathing in the flicker of a television set twenty years too old. He should be showered and rested – ready to head home at sunrise, if not sooner.

But then something led him to you, and – well.

There’s no fucking helping him now, is there?

Joel’s fingers hook around your panties. He pulls down, leaving a trail of kisses along your bare leg, until that same pink lace is dripping from your ankle.

His eyes flash up to yours, love-drunk and sparkling. He pushes your knees apart, watching your velvet folds open for him, and – oh, he thinks, staring at the glistening arousal smeared around your cunt. Such a slick little mess for him already.

“Goddamn, darlin’,” he licks his lips, “She’s so pretty.”

You hum, hands lowering. Your fingers separate, spreading your pussy for him. Your middle finger swirls around your clit, dips along your seam. And the n, silky and shining, you lift your hand again and slip your fingers into your mouth.

“Tastes even better than she looks,” you murmur, dappling your fingertip along your bottom lip.

Joel growls. He pushes down on your thighs, ignoring your little yelp, and drags the tip of his tongue through your slit.

“Oh, shit,” you gasp, back arching. Your fingers knot in his hair, twisting and tightening. “Shitshitshit.”

“Mhm,” he hums against you, tongue pushing inside.

Fuck, you’re just so perfect: so soft and warm and fucking dripping for him. He laps at your sweet center, wet already spreading all over his mouth and beard.

A dampness blooms in his boxers. He’s throbbing, fucking aching the longer he goes untouched. He grinds against the mattress, denim rough against his solid erection.

He lifts his chin, panting – satisfied by the way you squirm under the weight of him. “You like that, huh?” he asks, a sodden kiss to your mound. “Fuckin’ love it.”

He spits a thick bead of saliva, watching it dribble down your folds to your ass. His tongue swipes it back up, circling your clit, all slippery and swollen.

“Fuck, Joel,” you moan, tugging on his hair. Your legs spasm, hips lifting.

He loves the sound of his name when you say it. Broken in two, a lilt to it as it rolls from your tongue and down his spine. Like it’s yours as much as it is his, now.

He sucks hard on your clit, his tongue flicking. And he can tell you’re close; can feel your hips starting to lose rhythm, see your back desperately arching higher and higher.

Joel groans, pushing up to hover over you. He cups between your legs, dabbing two thick fingers at your entrance, and pushes in.

Your pussy draws him in knuckle-deep. Your chest lifts, the loose neckline of your dress exposing more and more. You grab your breast, pinching your nipple – a roll of pebbled flesh between your fingertips.

He lowers his lips to your ear – watching as you toy with yourself. “Come on, baby,” he grits his teeth, “Give me one. Let me feel this pretty cunt.”

Your head rolls back into the pillow; a high sob as your orgasm crests. Clamping tight around him; a warm flood down his fingers.

Joel kisses you as you come. You look so pretty, he thinks, with ecstasy behind your eyes and his fingers between your legs.

Christ, he wants to be inside you so badly. Wants to feel your cunt do all this around his cock instead.

The blood rushes between his hips.

His fingers slip in and out, bringing you back around. Joel’s lips are on your neck, murmuring, “Good girl, that’s my girl,” as you resurface.

Your eyes open again – glossy, glazed with the aftershock of your high. “Fuck,” you breathe, playing with the hem of his shirt.

He pulls his fingers out and sucks them clean. Whips the tee over his head in one motion; another kiss tucked under your chin as you peel your dress from your body. He tosses it to the floor.

Still dazed, your body still trembling, you ask, “Do you have a condom?” All dreamy and distant, your hands trailing along his belt.

Joel pauses. Tilts his head, frowning. “I’m on a road trip with my brother, baby – the hell would I bring condoms for?”

You roll your eyes, sighing. It’s the cutest thing Joel thinks he’s ever seen. You thread the belt through the loops of his jeans. “In case you meet a really cool girl at a bar and wanna take her home, maybe?”

He lifts his eyebrows, impressed. He slips his salty tongue over yours again.

You moan at the taste. “It’s just I’m…I’m all out.”

His belt drops to the floor; buckle clinking against hardwood.

“Well, shit,” Joel whispers.

It’s not exactly a scenario he predicted, setting off from Austin. Meeting you wasn’t on the bucket list for the trip. It’s another three, four, probably five things to add to the list of shit he doesn’t do, shouldn’t do, wouldn’t fucking do if it hadn’t been for you.

No, Joel thinks, groaning as you palm the solid shape of him – he didn’t bring a goddamn condom. Jesus, the most he has in his pockets right now is fifteen bucks and a stick of gum.

You unzip his pants, shrugging the denim loose. “We can just do it…without,” you offer.

Joel stares down at you. “You sure?”

You nod, biting your lip. “Just pull out, right?”

“Just pull out…” he echoes. Your hands are cold on his heated skin, but he’s not about to fucking stop you.

You tug his underwear down with his jeans, following the darkening hair from his navel down. Another quiet pull out passes your lips – your voice dissolving when you spot the thick base of his dick.

Joel’s shaft springs free, heavy against the inside of his thigh.

“Holy shit.” You push yourself up on your elbows, eyes flooding black.

His tongue runs along the bottom of his teeth. He thrusts forward into your hand, a glassy drop of precome dribbling from his slit.

Your thumb swipes across his flushed tip, fingers wrapping around his width. You roll his balls in your other palm, massaging and squeezing just the right amount.

“Easy, easy,” Joel whispers. Too much, too soon. He can’t come yet, not until he feels your fluttering cunt around his cock.

Instead, you reach up – snaking an arm around his neck. You pull him back down, his naked body flush against yours, and hike a knee over his hip.

He grinds into you, his cock nudging between your legs. They fall apart for him – pliant and keen, like petals unfolding. He covers himself in your slick, his tip catching below your clit.

“Pl-ease,” you whine, scratching at his shoulders.

Joel nips at your damp neck. “Please, what?” he taunts.

Your breath is hot against his cheek – a stifling request which curls up in the shell of his ear. “F-fuck me.”

And his hips roll into yours.

“Jesus f…” your face buries into his chest, “…you’re…you’re so fucking big, Joel, I can’t –”

He nudges between your walls, groaning into your skin. You’re even tighter around his cock, even cozier. “I know,” he pants, “I know. Take it, baby, know you can take it.”

You stretch around him, opening up the deeper he pushes. “Fuckfuckfuck,” you pant, the thick hair at his base finally brushing against your clit. “Fuck, Joel.”

“Look at me,” he taps your jaw, “Hey. Look at me. Breathe.”

You exhale, hot and shaky across his lips.

“Good, that’s good.” Joel nods. He holds you by the waist, lets you adjust to his size.

He pulls back, your cunt clamping around him. Halfway out, and then in again. Feeling you open up, inch by inch, until he builds a steady rhythm.

“Jesus, baby, she’s so…” he moans, “…she’s so goddamn tight.”

You drape an arm over his shoulders, a hissing pain where your nails dig into his skin. Yelping each time he bottoms out, your leaking cunt wrapped snug around him. “So – goddamn – big,” you whine, a ruined smile on your lips.

He slams his body into yours again, watching the way your tits bounce. Nipples hard, skin tacky and shining with sweat. Your pussy pinches, and he starts to unravel.

Fuck the road trip, Joel thinks, fuck all of it. This is where he should be: in the middle of your bed, burrowed deep between your legs. This is the only place he wants to fucking be, right now.

So he fucks you harder; the headboard hammering against the wall. A fistful of the pillow, his knuckles whitening. He guides his cock when he slips out – a filthy sound as your clutch sucks him back in.

“Fuck,” he growls, gripping your hips so hard he worries he might bruise you. His thrusts become sloppy – quick and desperate.

“So close,” you gasp. You’re squeezing him so tight that he sees stars. “I’m gonna – I’m…”

Perfect, Joel thinks, watching you bloom. You’re so fucking perfect.

He coaxes you through it. Slows enough to feel you come around his cock, your warmth as it gushes all over him. “That’s it, baby, I got you. Shit, you’re gonna make me come.”

He pulls out just in time to coat your stomach; a throaty groan as he comes. He pumps his shaft, covering from your sternum to the plush of your tummy. It dribbles down your waist, spurts between your breasts.

He collapses over you, pressing his forehead to yours. His dick, soaked and softening, smears the ejaculate across your skin.

You giggle, leaving sticky kisses along his beard.

“You okay?” he asks, breathless.

You nod, and his tongue dabs at the inside of your lips. You taste like sex and sweat – sweet and salt.

Joel shifts to the edge of the bed. He feels you follow, your lips featherlight on the curve of his shoulder.

You make to stand – going to clean yourself up, he reckons, your tummy dripping with his semen – and he locks a hand around your bare thigh.

“Stay,” he says, voice low and rough – sex still smoldering. “Let me get you a towel.”

You smile, resting your chin on his shoulder. Your fingers link around the other side of his waist. “I’ll get it. Just relax.”

And for a minute or two, you stay like that. Hooked onto one another, tired eyes closing over, breathing in rhythm. Your cheek on his shoulder, your knee brushing against his tummy.

It’s simple; quiet and still. Joel feels like half a person – the other half tracing her chipped nails along his bare thigh. Eyelashes fluttering, teeth holding back a grin that she thinks might give her away.

Eventually, you move. Shimmy yourself down the mattress, swipe a crinkled tee from the ottoman – and slink off to the bathroom.

Joel lies back against the headboard, body sticky hot. He watches the shadow of your figure stretch across the open door. His eyes drift upwards to the looping ceiling fan – only half as dizzying as the sound of your humming in the next room.

And just when he starts to think he might be fucking missing you, you reappear in the doorway. Leant against the frame, some worn band tee hanging from your shoulders. Arms crossed; smiling back at him.

A rush of words floods to the tip of his tongue. You look beautiful. Your makeup’s smudged, chains of your necklace twisted; your shirt is frayed and splotched with faded stains – and you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

He holds his arms out and you prance over.

You crawl over his figure, kissing your way up to his lips, and then turn in his lap. Cradled against his broad chest, your head nuzzling into the dark threads of hair between his pecs. You clasp one of his hands in two of yours.

“Offer’s still there for a shower, if you want it,” you whisper, kissing the pads of his fingers.

Joel tilts his head, mumbling against your temple, “Will you be in there with me?”

You answer something shaped like a tease, just as sharp with wit – but he’s too busy watching your nails trace his open palm. Too distracted by the sweet scent of your skin: a fresh burst of fruit, singed with the edge of tobacco.

“What do you do for work?” you ask.

He makes some sort of sleepy sound – a grunt, a hm? into your skull. “Oh, uh – I’m a contractor,” he says.

Your chin lifts. “That why your palms are all…?” Your thumb strokes light as lace against his worn skin.

“Probably,” Joel admits. He draws shapes on your thigh with his free hand.

“Do you sand the wood with your bare hands, or somethin’?”

Joel scoffs. “Alright, alright. You liked my hands plenty, twenty minutes ago.”

Your cheeks lift, a low hum caught in your throat. You angle your head to let his lips trail along your shoulder, pressing into the hinge of your jaw. A dark nail following the landscape of Joel’s skin – each score and divot, the callused pads at the bottom of each finger.

“You have sorta…earth hands, I think.”

It sits in the air for a few seconds before Joel turns to you. “What?”

“Earth hands. Or, well – I guess they could be water, if you look at ‘em this way.” You open up his hand, fingers stretched. “I don’t really know. I’m still learning.”

He looks down at you. Feels the now-steady pulse of your heart on his sternum. “Learnin’…hands?”

You snort. “Palm reading, Joel.”

His brows draw tight. He licks the inside of his whiskey-stained cheek. “You’re into all that hippie sh…stuff?”

You knock your knuckles against his chest, still staring at his hands. The hills and their valleys, the ravine-like lines; the worn skin and hatch marks.

“Let’s see…Your heart line,” you whisper – more to yourself than Joel, but he’s listening all the same. “It’s pretty deep, which means the relationships you’ve had have been…important. But it’s kinda…it tails off right here, see? It’s broken. So…I guess they didn’t end too good.”

Joel raises an eyebrow – playful, encouraging your timid smile. Keep figuring me out, he thinks, stoking the curious flame behind your eyes. “Alright,” he says, “Now tell me something you didn’t already know about me.”

You gawk, holding his wrist up. “You don’t see that? The way it breaks up? I’m not bullshitting you, Joel, it’s –”

“Naw, I see it,” he nods, squinting a little at his palm, “Just – tell me more. What’s all these other lines mean?”

“Well,” you adjust between his hips, “you got your life line right here. Short, which means –”

“Don’t tell me that part.”

“No,” you roll your eyes, “It just means you’re independent. You never needed much from anyone. And it runs past this mount – these are called mounts – right here. Venus: all to do with love and sexuality.”

Joel holds your open palm next to his, comparing them. He takes less than a second’s look, lines his lips to your ear and says, “Seem like a pretty good match to me.”

You wriggle when he tickles your ribcage, trying to twist out of his grasp. You’re laughing again – the same laugh he’s been hearing all damn night. The same giggle that’s had his stomach somersaulting since he first heard it.

The room seems to light with it, this glow he feels from you – as if you’re the sun. Spent and still half-drunk; lazing with a stranger in the middle of her bed. Tracing the lines and scars on his palm, telling him how logical and grounded he’s supposed to be.

As if the world orbits around you – everything you touch turning to molten gold. And for what feels like the hundredth time tonight, Joel looks at you and wonders: Where the hell did you come from?

You hold your hand against his, folding your fingers perfectly together. The evidence of your night flaking from Joel’s knuckles; sweat still simmering on the nape of his neck.

He hasn’t done this for years. Hasn’t felt this gentle aftermath. It’s usually a rush, a hastened zip and clink of his pants. An awkward dance, plucking clothes from the bedroom floor and pacing back to his truck.

It’s never like this. Talking and laughing, holding and kissing. Questions about his parents and yours; his biggest dream as a kid, or the time you broke your arm falling out of a tree.

He tells you stories about growing up with Tommy; tells you Sarah’s favorite flavor of cake. He tells you about the time they tried to make it for a school bake sale, forgot to turn the oven off, and almost burned the damn kitchen down.

You snicker and tell him that never would’ve happened if you were there.

Yeah, well, Joel smiles, I wish you were.

He notices you’re drifting off, despite your slurred protests and your weak grip on his wrist. He pulls you under the covers, curving his body around yours, praying that the quickening drum of his heartbeat won’t wake you.

His nose nuzzles into the curve of your skull, his hands link in front of your tummy. And he wonders whether his body was made with yours in mind.

He glances out at the sky – light starting to bleed from the horizon – and wills the turn of the sun to slow. Only a little; just let him stay here a little while longer.

Just a little while.

Dawn forces her way in eventually – more unwelcome than ever before.

There’s a throb between his temples which swells to life when the light floods past his pupils. “Jesus Christ,” he grumbles, face turning back into the pillow. He gives you a gentle squeeze and then pushes up from the mattress.

You roll to the middle of the bed, still sound asleep. The sun spills golden all over the valleys and crests of your body. The bedsheets carve pathways up to your hips, dipping at your waist.

Last night, there was something so mystical about you – so otherworldly. Joel felt himself drawn towards you like a compass needle shooting north, the second he felt your weight crash against his spine.

A figure behind a cloud of smoke, like the mountaintops disappearing into a thick mist. And now, blood drained of alcohol, you’re just you.

Your shirt is twisted around your shoulders. Your lips puffy, mumbling to yourself in your doze. Makeup smudged like chalk under your eyes, and still – just as beautiful. Just as radiant as you were ten hours ago.

Joel rubs his eyes, sitting on the edge of the bed. He blinks down at his bare feet, the morning sharpening into focus. As he lifts his phone from the nightstand, the cable drops – hitting the wooden floor with a snap.

He pauses, shoulders hunched. Hears you stir over his shoulder, and turns around.

The earth of your body shifts beneath cotton hills, clouds of sleep clearing from behind your eyes. “Hey,” you whisper, voice pretty and broken.

A little bird in the palm of his hand – that magpie curled up in her nest of gems and trinkets.

“Hey.” He leans down and kisses your cheek. “Sorry, darlin’, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

You wrap your arms around his wrist, tugging. “Are…are you…leaving?”

Joel feels a pang in his chest, and he doesn’t know why. He takes a deep breath. Your scent fills his lungs and steadies his heart. “I…” he sniffs, “…I gotta go home, baby.”

You give a slow and heavy nod. “S-Sarah…”

He strokes your head with his thumb. “Yeah. Shh, go back to sleep. It’s still early.”

He glances at his phone – it’s just after six. He knows Tommy will be waiting for him, parked outside the Super 8 and wondering where the hell Joel is. He knows Sarah will be, too – sat by the living room window, listening for the rumble of their bikes.

And still, he thinks – How do I fucking leave you? Leave this?

He shouldn’t even be entertaining the thought. He has a kid waiting for him back home; soccer practice, packed lunches, homework and bedtime stories. He has work to do, bills to pay, a roof to keep over their heads. It’s all waiting in Austin, two hundred miles away.

As though you can see the question flipping in his mind, you pull him closer. A weak finger in the palm of his hand, drawing circles. Your bleary gaze meets his, and you whisper, “In the next life.”

Joel smiles. Twelve hours ago, he’d have laughed at the idea of it. Now, he’s not so sure. He kisses your knuckles, muttering, “Promise.”

Another wave of sleep washes over you, and you’re gone again.

Joel pushes himself from the bed, reaching for his clothes. His back twinges as he stretches, pulling his T-shirt over his shoulders. He steps into his jeans; pinches his belt between two fingers and lifts it from the floor.

He leans over and tilts your shades the opposite way, dulling your bedroom. He unplugs the charger, neatly winds the cord, and sits it on your nightstand. He fixes his side of the sheets: folds them over the mattress, tucks them in at your back.

With a deep breath, he makes for the door.

His jaw turns, eyes still low. Your dress is in a heap at the foot of the bed; a tube of lip gloss lying next to it. He looks up, following the landscape of sheets – the slope from your ankle to your hip. Your hunched shoulders, your cheek smushed into the pillow.

If he looks too long, he’ll never leave.

The image burns golden into his eyes. He hopes for half a heartbeat that you’ll wake again and pull him back into bed. Kiss him all over, whisper something sharp and sweet in his ear. Touch him and graze him and wrap yourself around him – anchoring him right here and now.

But you don’t.

And Joel slips out of the room.

Jackson stirs to life over his shoulder.

A white lump in the snow-covered valley, the settlement seems so far away now. Tommy sets off up ahead, leading the way to the outpost. The blizzard is picking up – it almost swallows the silhouette of him whole.

Joel had tried to warn him: the weather would be too bad to see five feet in front of them, never mind any infected. But Tommy argued with the same determination that dragged the pair of them into that dive bar thirty years ago, and Joel didn’t have half the energy nor the will to argue back.

He’s thinking about you. He always is.

Your searing gaze over the rim of your glass; the weight of you against his chest. The tickling of your nail on his palm, severing each line and changing him forever. You and your palm lines.

You were just learning to read them. Joel didn’t know a thing about any of it, and he told you so. You took his hand in yours and said, Here. Let me see.

He runs a thumb down his fate line, swaying in time with his horse. And he shakes his head with a little smile – he still remembers which one is fate and which is heart.

He still remembers all of it. He has earth hands. All salt and soil and solid as stone. His earth hands have gotten him this far, right? Twenty-five years and he’s still here. Gray and grown; stiff joints and sewn-up scars.

His head line has channeled more strangers’ blood than Joel can count. Mounts that’ve stopped breath in the throat of any man who crossed him. He doesn’t think you’d recognize his hands anymore, if your fingertips traced over them again. Broken and bruised and bloody.

And he doesn’t think he’d want you to – doesn’t want you to meet the shadow of the man you knew back then. He’d prefer you remember that same brown-eyed, soft-touched stranger with enough charm and naivety to survive anything. No need for bone-breaking fists or bloodstained hands.

Where are you, he wonders?

The answer knots deep in his stomach: the same old rope twisting into the same old shape. A fist of anger, of guilt. Some terrible cocktail of both, spilling poison through his veins.

He’s terrified to wonder what might’ve happened if he had ever made it back there. What he might’ve found in your apartment – what he might not.

Where would you have gone, that day? Would you have fled, or would you have stayed?

You were smart, he knows that much. He saw the cogs of your mind turning right in front of him, standing opposite each other in that bar. Barely thirty seconds in and he could’ve sworn you had him all figured out.

But – oh, Jesus, you were kind. Open and willing to help a stranger with a dead phone and a tired smile. Would that kindness still glow as bright against the flicker of a world on fire?

A lone hawk swoops down before him, shooting straight between the pines. Joel slips his glove back over his freezing hand.

He thinks about you every day. Every fucking day, and it never eases. Never loosens. It keeps him up some nights – the truth he’s too afraid to look square in the face.

You live now in the back of his mind like a little ghost. His little ghost – still floating around that dusty city; the warm light of life and innocence still bright in your eyes.

Tommy glances over his shoulder. He gestures ahead as if to say, Would you take a look at this goddamn storm?

And Yeah, Joel thinks, I’m lookin’, brother.

All he wants is to go home. Jackson, Austin, the bedroom of your apartment in San Angelo. Just let me go back.

He blinks, and the snow melts to cracked asphalt under a lilac sunset. Tommy’s holding handlebars instead of reins. The horses’ hot puffs of breath darken to clouds of smoke, choking from the exhaust pipes of the Harleys.

You’re somewhere on the other side of town, waiting for him in the faint glow of a jukebox. Sipping what’s left of your rum and Coke, fishing a twenty from your purse for the next round.

Just let me go back home.

He tugs on his horse’s reins and pulls off after his brother.

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #joel miller smut #joel miller one shot #san angelo

1K notes · View notes

feizon · 1 year

Text

BACK MUSCLES

warnings: a bit suggestive - !(n?)sfw

summary: if you where to name one thing you loved most about your boyfriend (excluding his "wonderful" personality), you would say it was his back. Lucky for you, he loves to feed your addiction.

note: fem!reader x itoshi rin / not proofread

It was just something that happened unwillingly. From the moment you first saw him slip his jersey off from over his head after an intense training session had you weak in the knees. It was a sight that you could watch over and over again without fail and the sensation stuck each time you witnessed it. The way his chiseled back muscles flexed and contoured with every movement of his body, sweat glistening ever so deliciously, you felt light headed especially when he was in those tight tight vests and turtle necks he owned.

It was a normal day after practice, you dragged your feet left and right as you internally slouched from exhaustion. Your heavy maroon duffel bag weighing on your right shoulder as you fiddled with your fingers and keys to your apartment with nothing but the thought your bed clouding your thoughts. You swing your door open with all your might as your palm lingers a little to long against the door as your try to clear your already blurred vision.

After a few minutes of trying to adjust to your surroundings, locks of raven, black hair were caught at the very corner of your eye. You turn around to close the door shut as you make your way towards the source, dropping your bag to the ground with a large thud along the way. You enter you humble living room as you were greeted with a yoga mat and a particularly tall man stretching shirtlessly, back facing you which caused your brain to short circuit within seconds.

Of course it wasn't some random stranger who somehow entered your house. It was you arrogantly athletic boyfriend who you gave your spare key too, obviously to use for emergencies.

"R-Rin?"

"Ah, your back lovebug."

You shudder at the nickname that he gave you with context to a rather long story, but the sight before had you internally ascending to the heavens.

"W-Why are you in my house- Actually!! Why are you doing yoga in the middle of my living room?"

You ask with furrowed brows as you quickly shake your mind out of the gutters. He simple shrugs at your questions and pulls out a key from his back pocket, hand raised mid-air and bicep contracted as the keycharm jiggled from the motion.

"My place is currently going under renovations and I needed a place to stay within short notice. Sorry for the sudden intrusion but technically this is an emergency, right?"

He "asks" with one of his brows raised and that typical mocking smile plastered on his face he shares with you and you only. All you could do was let out a heavy sigh.

"How long exactly do you plan to stay for? A week? Two-"

"A month."

"..."

Calm teal eyes clash with (e/c) as a sudden silence engulfs the two of you. Pending three dots could be seen on top of your heads as the staring intensified ever so slowly. You had worn your red, white and blue long sleeves volleyball jersey and a pair of black biker shirts that covered just below your inner thigh. It was form fitting and tight, emphasing all the right curves of your body, a true blessing in the eyes of your lover.

You bite your lip as you realize he was no different from you, checking you out with the sutlest hits that were hard to pin point. You gulp as the top of your checks turn a rosy red as you try to avert your eyes to anywhere but his abdomen, earning a airy chuckle from his end which was a blessing to your ears.

"Don't act all shy on me now. Your gaze is quite heavy when my back is facing you yk..."

You begin to choke on your own thoughts at your sudden exposure as he quickly yet confidently closes the gap between the two of you until there is only about 4 or so centimeters left. He towers over, the sudden smallness you felt despite being one of the tallest members of your team sent butterflies raging in your stomach. He hooks his arms rightfully round your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder, you instinctively place your arms horizontally on his back as your mini pedicure gently scratched the rea causing him to grunt very softly.

Your suddenly conscious of the mirror placed in front of you which gave you a heavenly view of his back which left you starstruck. The position he was in contoured his muscles oh so sinfully yet in all the best way possible. As the silence continued, his hold on you tightened as did yours. The only sound reaching your ears was the sound of labored breathing and probably your heart beating out of your chest. You gulp as your face felt hotter and hotter by the second, what he says next to your ear in hot, airy breaths only adding fuel to your fire.

"Is this convincing enough to let me stay, or do you have a certain position in mind you want to see my physic in, lovebug."

@feizon

#rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin #blue lock x reader #bllk rin #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin x y/n #itoshi rin fluff #fluff #blue lock itoshi rin #fem reader #blue lock #itoshi rin smut #bllk smut

2K notes · View notes

palaceofpassion · 7 months

Text

The life of a House Husband

"Uhm... are you sure that I'm needed for this sir?" Jaune Arc was many things, he was a young awkward man, he was also the only boy in a household of eight women. Something that had a rather grand affect on his life, from cooking to cleaning, he could do every household task with ease. Something that had come akin to his mother wanting everyone to chip in.

And of course, being under the thumbs of his sisters. Whether it was through brute force, or being unable to say no. So... when he received a call from Headmaster Ozpin, of Beacon Academy, that he had a job for him, he was a little shocked.

"Yes, Glynda has informed me that you're quite skilled at helping others."

His cheeks felt flushed as he stared at the elderly man. "I mean, my semblance is good at helping bring out positive emotions but... I wouldn't really say I'm good at helping others." That was a lie, and he sort of wondered what his Auntie Glynda had told him. Glynda being his late father's sister of course.

"Mmhmm, she has spoken quite highly of you."

Now he was just embarrassed, "Oh. Well, that's honors." She was very brutal about the truth, even to family. "But I don't see why that means anything here."

"Well you see." Ozpin put a photo on his desk, ushering Jaune to pick it up. To which he did of course, the image had four young women. Ordered from tallest to shortest. Though he did note that three of them were quite short when compared to the tall redhead, who appeared to rival even him in height. "These four young women are some of our, if not the most promising huntresses this year... except."

"Except what sir?" He was a little confused, a bit embarrassed, if they were important and famous, he should know them... but he was kind of just a country bumpkin.

"Except that they would be unable to take care of themselves if left to their own devices. " Ozpin seemed frustrated by the statement, grabbing a cup of coffee to take a deep sip before continuing, "You see Mr. Arc. These four are the hope of Beacon, and while I would love for them to succeed, they have... problems. Ms. Cruz." He pointed at one of the shorter girls... actually THE shortest. With soft green hair, and dazzling emerald eyes. "She has unfortunately had... issues with the loss of her past team, so it's hard for her to open up to others, and she lacks self confidence in herself. And while the most calculating mind on her team, and their leader... it's doubtful whether she'll be able to communicate with the other three." He next pointed at the next shortest girl, with snow white hair, and frosty blue eyes, "Ms. Schnee is... strong willed, to say the least. She's grown in an environment that was about being used or to use others. As such, she'll be abrasive to the others, she also has very little experience with chores or taking care of herself, or so her mother has informed me."

Next was the maroon haired woman, with a stoutly figure, and pretty grey eyes, "This is May Zedong. She's similar to Ms. Cruz, but whereas Ms. Cruz has fears of being around others. May chooses not to involve herself, she's also had a hard time. Apparently she's had issues with both male and female students in the past. And likes to keep to herself. She's also quite soft spoken."

"And finally, this." He pointed out the dazzling red haired woman, with shining green eyes. "Is Pyrrha Nikos, she is, the strongest member of their team. However, she lacks the will to lead. She would rather not ruffle any feathers, and takes on an overtly polite persona when around other people. She's also quite famous, so it's not strange for people to come to her with ulterior motives. She's not quick to let people in, especially when she feels they'll be coming for her name. Unfortunately Ms. Schnee has already seemed to get on her bad side, and whether they'll work together at this point is impossible to tell."

There was obvious frustration in his voice, "Unfortunately, while each are all incredibly skilled huntresses, they haven't put much time, nor want, into self care. And that's where you come in." "So... you want me to be a nanny?" "Something to that effect, though you'll also be providing them with a shoulder to stand on." He wanted to say something, but as the most normal sibling, amongst a cavalcade of spectacular and amazing sisters. He sort of knew his position, and knew where people with talent tended to lie. Their single minded pursuit on improvement and being the bet. Especially if they have mental or emotional hang ups... he hated to admit it. But his semblance would definitely help. But more than that, as he listened to their stories, he wanted to help. "Okay." He would do what he could to help ease their lives, and besides... while he never wanted to be a huntsman. It would be interesting to see what kind of lives they lived.

While eyeing the image, he started to try to work things out. He didn't know their backstories, but one was afraid that she would see others die, or that she would be the cause. One is afraid of letting others in, because she's lived in a harsh environment, one is unable to communicate her feelings with others, used to being ignored... or something happened between her and a past team. And one has learned to close her heart, an actress if you will... He took a deep breath and sighed, "Okay, I suppose I should go meet them." "Mmhmm, they've already been informed of your... inclusion." He nodded, hopefully things wouldn't be too bad. But as he held the photo, he couldn't help but worry.

#Jaune Arc #May Zedong #Pyrrha Nikos #WEiss Schnee #Jessica Cruz #Householdarc #Will contain smut #eventually #mostly just silly asks

267 notes · View notes

eminsunnytoons123 · 3 days

Text

Dedicated to @nightkit92 @ducktoonz903707 @ghostytoastynights @fancytigercupcake @nia1sworld @nuggetaubrey @classywinnerpeace , heres the part 3 of my class of 3000: back to the SING! characters infos before the part 4 =^_^=

My class of 3000: back to the SING! characters infos And headcanons part 3

Pt 3: the other three adults

Number one, Miss Mila Lopez

28-29 years old|bisexual|personalities: friendly, kind, sarcastic, polite, sassy, caring And sometimes flirty

- She and Sunny can only sometimes have feelings for each other, but most of the Times theyre best friends since mila is with Agathe (probably) And Sunny is with Cheddar man a.k.a Charles

- she sometimes sees her students as her kids just like how Salieri And Sunny see their students as their own children they raised. Even though Mila's students are sometimes not-so-great dancers

- she is canonly a Spanish Lady in the reboot (maybe she was in the Show too)

- Mila often sees Sunny's students as her nephews And nieces just like how Oliver Starz does

- in her breaktime, she hangs out with Sunny and Agathe, And she knows that Agathe gets sometimes jealous of Sunny, but she is still friends with him too

Number two, Big D

57 years old (in human years) 1248 (in demon years)|pansexual|personalities: sassy, Sly, evil, manipulative, demonic, arrogant And rude

- just like on the original Show, he truly is the devil, but only for the music industry

- he is the only character in the reboot to have colored eyes, his eyes are clearly either bloody red or crimson red or maroon

- many call him "Dwight", but they even call him "Devil" And "Big devil"

- he is the most tallest on the reboot, he is about 196 cm tall (very tall, eh?)

- Big D sometimes helps Salieri And his students with some of his mischiefs And plans if they need help

- Mr Yin And Mr Min work for him just like on the Show, but he can sometimes get annoyed by their sometime stupidity

- he may be some kind of Lil' D's uncle due to the fact they have D's at the end of their names, but this is only a theory

- he calls literally everyone "my devils" or "my little Devils"

Number three, cheddar man a.k.a Charles

28-29 years old|pansexual|personalities: smooth, sassy, arrogant, sarcastic, rude, sometimes flirty (when with Sunny) And ignorant

- in the reboot, cheddar man a.k.a Charles is Sunny's boyfriend, but he is even mostly an an antagonist like on the Show, but he actually likes sunny

- he doesnt really like Sunny's students, its not that he hates them its just that they can sometimes annoy him And get on his nerves. And he even calls them "brats". But he is sometimes Nice to them

- just like on the Show, he loves the color blue And any shade of blue

- he HATES Salieri, like A LOT. Its not only because he is way more pure evil, but because he left Sunny for no real reason after they were dating

- he often gets slapped or punched by tamika when he calls them brats or is rude to them

I'll make the part 4 soon, And like how I Said yesterday, i'll always make new posts to say more headcanons of the characters that I added or forgot to say =^_^=

I hope y'all will like this =^////^= 💛🧡

#my arts #digital art #class of 3000 #class of 3000: back to the SING!#co3k: back to the SING!#co3k: back to the SING! characters infos #miss mila lopez #class of 3000 big d #class of 3000 cheddar man #ibispaint

10 notes · View notes

scribble-bugz · 1 year

Note

Dreamcore au lore post when?

TLDR; an au where irkens are these little friendly guys, that don’t feel the pull of gravity; so they float, that help you sleep. They’re soft, and feel like stuffed animals— They’re non violent creatures that live in giant hidden and communal villages, where they grow their own food. Their diet consists of mainly sugar; and they ALL wear pjs + have black tails. Red helps with insomnia and Purple soothes nightmares— Zim actually causes nightmares and insomnia, so that’s how he’s defective in this au. Red smells like roses, Purple smells like lavender and Zim smells like baby powder (scents that you can get put into real stuff animals).

H O W E V E R. If they consume caffeine they become like their canon counterparts. Miyuki and Spork are the “tallest” in this au, and they’re scary. They both smell like rotting corpses and sadness. They’re soft and squishy too, but like, they feel like skinned leather and they bleed black sand instead of the usual stuffing, and their button eyes remained buttons because they weren’t brought to life with love. The Control brains created all the irkens; It’s a company in this au. Miyuki and Spork were the forgotten prototypes, the failures. Zim was their third attempt, and became their official model/prototype for creating irkens! Irkens in this au don’t really have genders, but they do have genitalia.

—————

TALLEST PURPLE (SHE/HE/THEY)

Purple wears a pair of dark maroon overalls with a star pattern, and a lilac shirt with pastel stripes. His black tail is long, and fluffy at the end. He’s a little anxious, always positive and usually an oblivious cuddle-bug that doesn’t like to be alone. He’s very sweet and huggable, yet also a bit of a crybaby that loves to socialize. Purple often finds himself seeking out the company of Red. The irkens of this timeline do not do well in harsh lighting, and prefer to stroll around in dusk-light. Because of this, Purple is always bumping into this during the day and accidentally hurting himself— this leads to him wearing a lot of bandaids and crying frequently.

When Purple consumes caffeinated drinks (or food), he becomes sassy and sharp tongued; often making crude or just plain cruel remarks about others that are entirely unnecessary. He quickly becomes sick of physical affection, and gets easily overstimulated, putting distance between himself + the ones he loves.

—————

TALLEST RED (HE/IT)

Red wears a long pastel sleeved shirt, with a heart in the middle as well as a pair of crimson and plaid pants. His black tail resembles that of a wolf’s. He’s a bit of a cocky, grumpy and introverted little trickster that loves to hide items (that aren’t vital to a person’s survival). He can be rather cheeky and he tends to dislike new people at first but he’s an absolute sweetheart once he opens up. Red often finds himself seeking out the company of Purple. Red has also taken it upon himself to comfort Purple when he cries, and tries his best to keep him cheered up, though he can’t *always* keep Purple from crying.

When Red consumes caffeinated drinks (or food), he becomes mean-spirited and hotheaded. Preferring to play humiliating and vulgar ‘pranks’ on unsuspecting humans or fellow irkens. His temper quickly shortens, and he no longer holds patience as a virtue.

—————

INVADER ZIM (HE/HIM)

Zim wears a pastel pink, footed onesie with galaxy patterns on it. His black tail is long, and thin, it has little to no fur at the end. Similarly to his canon counterpart, he’s a smug, ambitious and bratty jackass that’s very full of himself and expects others to acknowledge just how important + incredible he is. He’s very loud and obnoxious. Zim finds himself wanting to cause chaos rather than help humans— Zim carries around a stuffed green dog plushie that he’s dubbed “Gir.”

When Zim consumes caffeinated drinks (or food), he becomes sweeter, and easier to love. No longer wanting to cause chaos; he settles down pretty quickly, and often seeks out the affection + ressaurance of others.

—————

DIB MEMBRANE (HE/THEY)

Dib is a 12 year old human with brown hair and glasses. Similarly to his canon counterpart he’s a manipulative bastard that prefers not to get his hands dirty, and would rather have others do his dirty work. He is very cruel and considers himself a lone outcast. Dib suffers from consistent bullying in his home and school life, but he is an asshole nonetheless and never goes out of his way to show basic kindness or decency to others; he often bullies his classmates back.

Dib has a habit of catching and experimenting on live animals (he claims this is practice should he ever capture an Irken, alien, or cryptid), usually adding the carcuses to his “collection” when finished. He finds joy in hurting others, preferring to torture small animals because they are the least defenceless.

—————

INVADER TAK (SHE/IT)

Tak wears a thick pair of dark violet sweatpants with black cat patterns, and a lighter shirt with one big black cat in the center. Her black tail resembles that of a three week old kitten’s. She is often shy and soft spoken; she rarely draws attention to herself. She is terrified of the big wide world and prefers to keep herself hidden; she follows Tenn around like glue. Tak carries around a stuffed blue navy cat plushie that she’s dubbed “Mimi.”

When Tak consumes caffeinated drinks (or food), she becomes spiteful and easily jealous. She looks for any reason to dislike or talk down to someone, and disregards her morals fast. She’s bold, and has no filter— she will tell someone EXACTLY how she feels about them, sparing no details.

—————

GAZ MEMBRANE (SHE/THEY)

Gaz is a timid 9 year old human with dark red hair. Unlike her brother, she isn’t obsessed with dissecting the irkens, and is rather indifferent about their origin. She finds her brother’s crude obsession with wanting to tear them apart to be annoying.

18 notes · View notes

taruruchi · 1 year

Text

Twst oc and character ships as Taylor Swift lyrics

Tagging: @emizel @solxima @linawritestwst The names of your ocs colored so it's easier to find them! The colors are Lina, Sol, Lin, and me!

YAY LET'S GO finally posting something after 102038490134 years of not making any content. And happy holidays to everyone!! Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it!!

HAYDEN

“I want you to know I'm a mirrorball. I'll show you every version of yourself tonight. ... And when I break, it's in a million pieces.” (mirrorball, folklore)

“By morning, gone was any trace of you. I think I am finally clean.” (Clean, 1989)

I chose the first part because at first, Hayden keeps trying to reflect what someone wants, right? Whether they want someone like them, someone they admire, etc. And wouldn't he get exhausted because of that at some point? He has to put up a facade with so many people. As for Clean, this is after his redemption arc, when he doesn't have to always keep up his facade anymore! Especially with Riley since he can be himself around him without any judgment! (Bonus: "You'll find me on my tallest tiptoes, spinnin' in my highest heels, love..." because haha he wears heels since he's short I say while he's taller than me)

SETH x ROLLO

“I'm the one who burned us down, but it's not what I meant. Sorry that I hurt you. [inserts the rest of the chorus]” (Afterglow, Lover)

“'Cause you could be the one that I love. I could be the one you dream of. A message in a bottle is all I can do, standing here hoping it gets to you.” (Message In A Bottle, Red)

Okay first of all, we had that small bit where Hayden danced with Rollo instead while Seth had to go with the NRC students to safety, right? So yeah Rollo didn't mean to hurt Seth, he just wanted to reach his goal (which I can't really talk about because I haven't watched the event myself). Now the second one happens some time afterwards, when they're together. It reminds me of them because of their long distance relationship, you know? While they're apart, all they can do is send each other letters/texts which isn't always enough, and that's why they hope that their love can reach each other!

ROLAND

“I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you. I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you. I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night and now I see daylight, I only see daylight.” (Daylight, Lover)

The first two lines... basically he's obsessed with his s/o, right? But in my view, this is when he finally finds "the one for him" so he's not as possessive anymore! That's why we have the next line: "Now I see daylight." Once he finds this person, he can finally love in a healthy way and he's just!! happy with his s/o!! i just want him to be happy too :((

LUMI x MILES

“There I was again tonight, forcing laughter, faking smiles. Same old tired, lonely place. Walls of insincerity, shifting eyes and vacancy vanished when I saw your face. All I can say is, it was enchanting to meet you. [proceeds to insert the whole song]” (Enchanted, Speak Now)

This absolutely 100% is giving those scenarios sol wrote where they were dancing and aaaaa they're they them just 🥺 because like when Miles went to that party to save Lumi from all those people and they ended up having fun!! Lumi was dreading spending the whole party alone but Miles comes in and dances with her!!

IGNIS x MEDITRINA

“Laughing with my feet in your lap, like you were my closest friend. ... Carnations you had thought were roses, that's us.” (Maroon, Midnights)

So basically sol's ocs are just a big group of friends, right? That's why the first line reminded me of them! And especially because of Ignis, they're both laughing together and having fun. The second line is just Meditrina getting "roses" from Ignis and noticing they're actually carnations because despite having a plant expert gf, he's still a little dumb ksjkdks (affectionate)

IVY x VIL

“Memorizing him was as easy as knowing all the words to your old favorite song.” (Red, Red)

“I'm no one special, just another wide-eyed girl who's desperately in love with you. Give me a photograph to hang on my wall, superstar. [inserts just about the rest of the song]” (SuperStar, Fearless)

Down bad, down horrendous. That's really all I can say about the first thing. The second is just Vil being the super famous celebrity that he is and Ivy being, well, in the crowd cheering him on. Despite that, he still notices her and is just being the amazing person he is! He's incredibly polite and gives her a signed picture of him! It sounds like an idol x fan au and I know that's not the case, but it just sounded like it fits and I think it's cute

VANCE x RILEY

“Strange look on his face. Pauses, then says, 'You're my best friend.' And you knew what it was: he is in love.” (You Are In Love, 1989)

They're just. Tiny!! Small!! They start off as friends then they start to see they like each other, the good old friends to lovers!!! They're spending time together one day and all of a sudden, (what I think is) Vance realizes he likes Riley and ajsnndkcmksnd (This also reminds me of that one short scenario about Vance and Bobbie. Y'all remember that?)

ALLEN x NEMIS

“Wasn't it beautiful running wild 'til you fell asleep before the monsters caught up to you? ... Your string of lights are still bright to me. Who you are is not where you've been. You're still an innocent.” (Innocent, Speak Now)

They both had childhoods where they had fun: Allen played with Lumi and Nemis was happy with her sisters and parents. That's until Allen lost his best friend and, well, it went downhill. For Nemis, (I'm realizing I haven't talked about this enough) she lost her parents, the two people who were able to calm her down whenever she was upset. I can see them both seeing past each other's faults and telling the other that it'll be all right from then on because no matter what happened in the past, they're still the same innocent person.

HAYDEN x ELPYS

“This ain't for the best. My reputation's never been worse, so you must like me for me.” (Delicate, reputation)

Hayden is really out here getting another part. Anyway, this is also after Overblot™ and his reputation went 📉📉📉 which means!! Whoever likes him has to like the real him, without putting on a mask! That's how we get to Elpys has always been open to befriending him even before his overblot and yayyy that's all, I want them to find happiness

RHYNSTINE x RUGGIE

“We are too busy dancing to get knocked off our feet. Baby, we're the new romantics! The best people in life are free!” (New Romantics, 1989)

This happened so suddenly—I was just sitting down and thinking who would've fit Rhyne and for some reason it just feels like a fun dynamic?? I think Ruggie would help Rhyne take her mind off things (because she's constantly worried about something) but he'd also have the capacity to help her out when she needs it! Meanwhile Rhyne is looking after Ruggie as well because that's just in her nature PLUS she scolds Leona. Which is the best part. Also in my head they just look cute together 🥺

CIRCE x FLOYD

“Yeah, we're happy, free, confused and lonely at the same time. It's miserable and magical! ... Everything will be alright if we just keep dancing like we're 22!” (22, Red)

They're both so energetic and just !!!! Whenever they're together, it's all laughter and smiles. I know Circe isn't good at dancing, but as long as she's having fun then it's okay! Circe's also got her story of being bullied and that's why she escapes to Mostro Lounge, right? That's why I thought the lyrics fit even more. Then Floyd greets her with a big hug and brings her mind away from her bad day and aaaaa they're so adorable together

IVY x JAMIL

“'Cause there we are again in the middle of the night, we're dancing 'round the kitchen in the refrigerator light.” (All Too Well, Red)

Ivy absolutely helps Jamil rest. She might drive him up the wall sometimes, but Jamil appreciates her nonetheless. I can definitely see this scene happening. Jamil is working late in the kitchen because apparently Kalim had invited people over to the dorm for brunch together. Ivy sees him and she asks him to take a break, ending up with them dancing with each other.

COLETTE x TITUS

“All my flowers grew back as thorns, windows boarded up after the storm. He built a fire just to keep me warm.” (Call It What You Want, reputation)

When I thought of this, I was thinking this was sort of after Colette ran away from home and met Titus. She was mad at her family for replacing her, and meanwhile Titus looked after her since she was unfamiliar with living without the care of her family. I like how Titus cares for her as the pain from being replaced is still fresh, even though they just met and they don't know each other. I think it's sweet!

REAL!JAY x ELPYS

“And when I felt like I was an old cardigan under someone's bed, you put me on and said I was your favorite.” (cardigan, folklore)

So Jay is just in Ramshackle living that No Lifer Life (me too, my dude). It's like he's forgotten and he can't be as good as the others, like an old cardigan. But nevertheless, Elpys comes over and tries to bring him out to the sun! She doesn't mind that he seems like he won't grow into a successful person, he's still one of the people she likes to hang around with the most and she'll be with him until he can bring himself to the light on his own!

IRIS x ONYX

“All of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting ... Say my name and everything just stops. I don't want you like a best friend.” (Dress, reputation)

You can tell this is from Onyx's pov 😭 He has been pining for how long?? And yeah he just really likes Iris but there's been no progress !! At all !! Even though Onyx really likes her and he's absolutely SMITTEN. I hope he does get his chance soon! Also I know the rest of the lyrics and yeah it doesn't fit them at that point. That's why it's just that

ARIETTA x YULE

“And I don't know why but with you I'd dance in a storm in my best dress fearless.” (Fearless, Fearless)

I genuinely think they'd do this. Like, imagine: they're walking home from a party or something else and it starts to rain but they're in a (how do you describe it) happy mood that can't be ruined so they just start dancing in the rain together with no worries in the world. It seems like a very ariyule moment to be and it's !!!! no comprehensible thoughts, just them

TARUCHI x AZUL

“All this time I didn't know you were breakin' down. I'd fall to pieces on the floor if you weren't around. Too young to know it gets better. I'll be summer sun for you forever.” (Forever Winter, Red)

I guess this would be around Chapter 3 era? So basically Taruchi hearing Azul's backstory. After that she does her absolute best to assure Azul of his abilities and be genuine with him so he doesn't think she has some underlying motive. I absolutely 100% believe that he would be more comfortable and vulnerable with her

MERRILL x ESTELLE

“Staring at the ceiling with you, oh, you don't ever say too much. And you don't really read into my melancholia.” (Lavender Haze, Midnights)

Estelle is more emotional and vulnerable around people she's close to, that's why I chose this. And I absolutely love the vibes the song has, I'd love for them to have this song. I imagine Merrill doesn't judge her at all, and she does the same for him. I love the mutual understanding and trust they have, I think it's really sweet and I LOVE THEM !!!

EUREKA x EPEL

“You're beautiful. Every little piece, love, don't you know? You're really gonna be someone.” (Stay Beautiful, Taylor Swift)

In my imagination, Eureka is admiring Epel in her head (and accidentally blurting it out sometimes) and she thinks he's beautiful, inside and out! She absolutely believes that he can be the person he wants to be in the future, and she hopes he can stay just as beautiful as he is now. That's what I think, at least!

ACHLYMNA x JADE

“I know looks can be deceiving, but I know I saw a light in you. And as we walked ,we would talk and I didn't say half the things I wanted to.” (Hey Stephen, Fearless)

Everyone thinks Jade is scary, but it was sort of different for Nana. Yeah, she also thought he was scary but when she finally talked to him, she didn't think that anymore. They talked for a long while and she really enjoyed it, which was strange for her since she doesn't usually talk a lot nor enjoy talking to most people. Even more surprising, she wanted to talk more. so yea !!

LISE x IDIA

“And then you say I want you for worse or for better. I would wait for ever and ever. Broke your heart, I'll put it back together. I would wait for ever and ever.” (How You Get the Girl, 1989)

Listen, I know their relationship is sort of angsty, but consider. After both of their arcs (chapter 6 and lise with her family stuff). They stick together, through bad or worse, through all their problems! They might have pushed each other away at one or some points, but they still managed to go back to each other! Look at them, battling through everything life throws at them together!! Only true gamers know the cheat codes and special moves they use to get through all that

IVY x SEBASTIAN

“Light pink sky up on the roof, sun sinks down, no curfew. Twenty questions, we tell the truth. You've been stressed out lately? Yeah, me too. Something gave you the nerve to touch my hand.” (It's Nice to Have a Friend, Lover)

This seems very casual... which I like. I like to think they spend their time like that. Sebastian being stressed from doing so much work and Ivy helping him relax by just. relaxing and doing simple every day things <3 and since Sebastian is more shy (I assume since he's infp) the touching hands part seems cuter

[ Note: I started getting tired at this point so they're shorter ]

BLANCA x MALLEUS

“Ugh, so he calls me up and he's like, 'I still love you.' And I'm like, 'I just, I mean, this is exhausting, you know? Like, we are never getting back together, like, ever.'” (We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together, Red)

Blanca got an epiphany and realized that she was better than Malleus could ever be 🧘‍♀️ What a queen ❗

TARUCHI x AZUL (2)

“And I know you could fall for a thousand kings, and hearts that could give you a diamond ring. When I fold, you see the best in me.” (The Joker and the Queen)

Okay so if the first is from Taruchi's pov, this one is Azul's. Even though Azul could be at his low and others could treat her better, she still sticks to him and loves him. As I recently learned from a movie I watched (I think it was Set It Up), "You like because, and you love despite."

IVY x VIL (2)

“I'm perfectly fine, I live on my own. I made up my mind, I'm better off bein' alone. We met a few weeks ago. Now you try on callin' me, baby, like tryin' on clothes.” (King of My Heart, reputation)

Ivy saying she doesn't serve anyone and she can carry herself but suddenly meeting Vil and going 🧎‍♀️ and he IS the king of her heart

RAMSHACKLE GANG

“Long live all the mountains we moved. I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you.” (Long Live, Speak Now)

I absolutely love this song and it think it fits their friendship a lot!! As the main group™ they've been through a lot together and of course they fully trust each other. All that time they spend together is treasured because they're practically family now!! I love them so so much and. And they. When they <3

IVY x TREY

“Seems like there's always someone who disapproves. They'll judge it like they know about me and you. And the verdict comes from those with nothing else to do. The jury's out, but my choice is you.” (Ours, Speak Now)

This is just because most people think Trey is boring but sol omg your version of Trey is *chef's kiss* It seems like a sweet ship <3

DEIMA x KALIM

“Meet me in the pouring rain, kiss me on the sidewalk, take away the pain. 'Cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile.” (Sparks Fky, Speak Now)

I like dynamics like this, they're very cute! Deima getting butterflies whenever Kalim approaches her, it's so 🥺 Kalim is just instant serotonin. She's lacked a constant person to rely on and to cheer her on so I think Kalim would really help her with that and it makes me so happy

#☆ taruchi talks ocs 💭#☆ taruchi's writings ✍️#☆ a friend!! lin 🧁#☆ a friend!! bree 🌹#☆ a friend!! lina 🌷#☆ a friend!! sol 🕯️#☆ the rarest seashell: arietta marcurio 🧜‍♀️#☆ the lost girl: mini taruchi 💙#☆ the fanciful lad with a hat: miles ponder 🎩#☆ the picky fashionista: rhynstine feinsince 💄#☆ the blue intellect: achlymna feinsince 📘#☆ the joyful optimist: elpys feinsince 🎶#☆ the hot headed rascal: nemis feinsince 💢#☆ the fearful worrywart: deima feinsince 🗯️

9 notes · View notes

fictionkinfessions · 1 year

Note

To the Princess' recent question, yes! The one I recall most clearly was as Tallest Red of the Irken Armada. There was some smeets' show I watched, not sure what it was a bout, but all of the characters were some flavour of spiky worm looking thing. I in particular kinned one with alternating maroon and black stripes. Could probably draw them actually.

#fictionkinfessions #fictionkin #kinmemception #tallestredkin #invaderzimkin #mod party cat

4 notes · View notes

slashwhores · 1 year

Note

how tall are they all compared to there slasher conterparts?

(When they were kids Gen and Bo placed a bet, whoever was the tallest by 19 won $8 and a dirty magazine )

Genevive pouts, her brows furrow and her fingertips tap against the rim of her glossy red mug she struggles to recall the last time she actually measured herself, She's pretty certain of Bo's height. Must've seen it in his medical records a half a dozen times by now, needs to know in case Vincent isn't around when if Bo gets hurt and she's forced to administrator drugs with a dosage reliant on the patients weight and height.

" Well Bo is 6'0ft basically 6'1 I'm think I'm just shy of 5'10 myself" ( ?)

She raises the mug. Till it just about barely grazes her bottom lip... thats when she senses something---someone loom over her, and before she knows it there's a strong force pressed against the top of her head.

" And don't you ever forget' it, darling"

Bo. Genevive sighs. Partly in faux annoyance and partly in relief.

He lovingly ruffles her hair as he scoots past her, entering the kitchen. His voice is fainter, farther away so he shouts

"Was silly of ya to ever think you could win that bet"

"My mother was 6'0ft! And I was 3 inches taller then ya back then'"

"Well my pops was almost 6'4 and your dumbass forgot girls grow quicker than boys- not taller"

"Psh Whatever..." She sips, from the mug. carefully avoiding the small chips. Bo bought it when she first moved in what used to be deep shaded maroon now a light mahogany, worn down. Well loved.

"Still owe me $8"

Bo smirks leaving the same way he came, a bag of frozen peas now hugged, albeit loosely under his arm, the door slams on his way out. He misses the faint smile on his girls face and the way her face burrows into her shoulder in an attempt to hide her laugh the question bringing back a fond childhood memory, something she considers pretty special, pretty rare...

"What the hell is he doing with a bag of frozen peas?"

*******************************************************************

Mona drops her brush, hopping off of an old stool and begins to sweep the rubber marks and pencil shavings from her desk "I'm 5'4 :)) Vinnies only an inch or two taller than Bo so that makes him... 6'2?" She scoops the lot into her ink stained,paint ridden,wax burnt, palms then her gaze lifts to that of her muses "Right hun?"

Vincent nods

Mona spins around, eyes scanning the room. Where the hell did she put the trashcan? Or her watercolours?

"The height difference actually has more advantages then you'd think you know?" oh the trash is under her desk, and the watercolours are in the old plastic box their always in. Danm she really needed some fresh air "Hey Vin could you please get me the Old Hollands? Their ontop of the shelf." He moves quickly, using it as an opportunity to break away from starring endlessly at a blank page that was supposed to be his latest masterpiece. The corpses was new courtesy of Lester though apperanyly the victim was tough, they'd cut his forehead with a glass shard they'd picked up from the side of the road. she thanks him- she should take a walk once she's organised her space, Vincent could give her a tour of the woods since he's free- that would be nice.

The shelf containing the couples supplies reaches alllllllllll the way up to the battered ceiling, the watercolours resting atop of Vincents half filled sketchbooks, sketchbooks he hasn't touched since childhood, they could be in galleries.

If Mona had attempted to scale the shelves (which she most definitely would've) theirs no doubt she'd have been crushed- flat as a pancake, however Vincent doesn't even need to tip-toe, he simply reaches and hey-presto the good watercolours, ready to be used.

"My hero!" Coos Mona dramatically swooning into his arms before he even has the chance to set the pallette down, his eyes roll and he shakes her off, hard. Probably harder than intended since Mona trips on her own feet- falling face first into the cold, hard floor, Vincent clasps both hands over his mouth, both from shock and amusement as he attempts to trap his laughter before it can escapes but hes unsuccessful, paints clattering toward to floor. Mona lifts up her head and a brush hits her, curtesy of Vincent, who is visibly shaking with laughter.

<<IM SO SORRY>> his signing is shaky

No your not! She laughs

He offers her a hand and helps her up, he helps dust off her skirt and gently places a kiss to her forehead.

*******************************************************************

"Lester- stop squirming! You'll hurt your self more babes!"

"I'm fine sweetheart promise" he sniffs,

"LESTER DAMIEN SINCLAIR" Kirby grits his teeth, breaking the name like glass, letters stumbling sharp from his mouth. "You are BLEEDING. For all we know you might have a concussion!!!!"

"Your real pretty when your stressed you know" Lester's smile slides up his face, anyone would smile at the sight, well, if it weren't for the blood dripping into his eye.

Kirby breathes in sharply

"You will age me horribly"

"I haven't already?"

"BOY! I SWEAR-" Kirby swatts at Lester's arm

But all he does is laugh

"I thought yous' was supposed to be taking care of me? Now your hittin' me like some nasty bug? How's that make any sense?" Kirby laughs at that and so does lester, weakly might i add.

"Still feeling" Kirby gestures with his hands, trying to remember the word used by his partner when he first saw his truck in the road.

"LooOOooppyyy" Lester draws it out in a singsong sorta tone.

"Yup"

"Yup!" Lester fixes his smile so it bears all his teeth , it still slants, ever so slightly.

"Do you think you can answear some questions while we wait for Bo?"

"Sure thing Sugar"

"Okay" Kirby pauses for a moment, thinking.

"How'd the car break down?"

"The Blonde bitch used the wrong fuel" he snarls.

"Did the blonde bitch stab you?" It's almost funny how sincere Kirby sounds

"Mmmmhhh no it was the one with tattoos" Lester closes his eyes "the one with the short hair... the nice one" He adds

"Can you keep your eyes open for me? Les?"

"Yeah, yeah, sorry" He cracks his eyes open ever so slightly, everything looks so... blurry. Except for Kirbys hand, which clasps his, the sun shines in his eyes covering his face, Lester isn't scarred though, he might pass out from blood loss but its not something that hasn't happened before.

He told his brothers he was only a little beat up though, which was a barefaced lie unless you consider the penny deep cut above his head and several jabs and stabs to the stomach a 'little beat up'

"Why was he nice?"

"He talked to me in the car about knives and guns and music and... you" Lester's head lolls downward a little but he smiles up at Kirby which makes the brunettes heart melt.

"How tall am I?"

"6'0ft, freak" Kirby rolls his eyes

"Okay how tall are you?" The sound of a car driving up the road perks up both men.

"7'7"

They hear the crunch of Gravel, its louder now

"Clearly"

A car door shuts, the sounds a little more distant than expected

"Just kiddin'" Lester laughs loudly

A familiar whistle

"I'm 5'10"

The sound of something falling to the ground

"LESTER!" Bo skids down scraping his knees of the hard Rock beneath him

"Shiiittt, I thought Vincent was coming" Lester squeezes his eyes closed not wanting to deal with his eldest brothers pestering

"DOES IT FUCKING MATTER?" Bo scoops Lester up in his arms which causes the youngest of the brothers to go wide eyed and groan loudly.

"Careful! Bo! CAREFUL!" Kirby stands quickly adjusting Lester's position

"Is he gonna-? Aren't you a dotor or something? What can I-?- What do we do?"

"He's a vet" adds Lester, weakly

"So?" Bo curses

"Well I'm not a fuckin dog am I?"

"Yes the fuck you are" Lester chuckles a little at that, his eyes close, he groans when he shifts in his brother hold

"Do you have any medical supply's?"

"A first aid kit in the back of my truck and uh- whisky and a bag of thawing peas"

Kirby pauses at the mention of peas but continues nevertheless

"That'll do, the rest of your medical stuffs back in Ambrose right?"

"Yup"

"Than come on, get in the car"

*******************************************************************

2 notes · View notes

robinofinashiro · 3 years

Text

“Baby, I am a wreck when I'm without you / I need you here to stay / I broke all my bones that day I found you / crying at the lake.”

request status: OPEN

pairing: bertholdt hoover x fem! reader

note: pls send something in! my inbox/ask box zero req’s so if any of you have any ideas wanting to get out, feel free to ask. all my fandoms are pinned as well as my rules.

you sat with Annie, throwing her small pieces of napkins as she annoyingly shook her head at you. you had been sitting down, doing absolutely nothing for the last thirty minutes as she tried to study.

“where is everyone? you’re boring me out and I’m like ready to do something!” you exclaimed. she gave you a dead stare before going back to studying, “you’re no fun! i’m getting food. want anything?” you asked her.

she replied with water as you stood up, smacking the back of her head playfully before running away. you made your way to the line with a basket full of your snacks and Annie’s water as your boyfriend finally making his way down the stairs with Reiner.

“long time, no see,” you heard a voice say behind you. you turned around to see someone you felt like you hadn’t saw in centuries, “JAEGER?” you yelled a bit too loudly as you engulfed him into a bone crushing hug, “Eren! i haven’t seen you in forever!” you exclaimed.

he laughed, scratching the back of his head shamefully, “my god, you grew your hair out, you look great!” you complimented, “damn, how is everything with Mikasa? are the two of you still together?” you asked.

Eren nodded, “yeah, we’re going onto our two year anniversary soon. how are you and Bertholdt’s tall ass?” he joked. you playfully pushed him, “we’re great, we’re celebrating four years soon,” you saw Eren’s face change to confusion, “what?” you asked.

Eren found it odd that in the four years both of you were dating, Bertholdt had yet to ask for your hand in marriage.

he shook his head, “nothing, forget it. we need to hang out soon. i bet Mikasa and Armin would be excited to see you again!” you nodded excitedly, giving him your number on a napkin before giving him another hug, “of course, I’ll text you later to see when’s the next time you and the others free!” you said before grabbing your things and leaving.

as you walked away, Bertholdt stared at Eren, feeling as though Eren was basically eye fucking you the entire time you were talking with him. he knew you were friends with the teal eyed boy but he had never saw you so friendly with anyone before.

“something wrong Bert?” Reiner asked. he shook his head, remaining silent, “hey, did you losers finally get out of class?” he asked. Reiner stared at you, before giving you the middle finger, “what was Jaeger doing here?” he asked.

Bertholdt saw your eyes light up instantly, “honestly, no clue but it was nice seeing him!” you said, digging into your muffin, “there’s a part happening tonight, y’all should go,” Reiner asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

you shook your head no, “Bert and I have a date tonight. we’re having our annual movie night tonight,” you said, squeezing Bert’s hand tightly, “but I know Eren’s been interested in hanging out soon so I’ll text him later tonight to see when they’re all free,” you added on.

Bert tightened his grip on your hand at the mention of Eren. you found it a bit odd but thought nothing of it. the rest of the time that all of you were sitting together, Bert didn’t say much. given that he hardly said anything to begin with, he just couldn’t keep his eyes off you. it was like you mesmerized him all over again.

Bertholdt couldn’t help but think of the first time he saw you. that very day was the day he knew he wanted to make you his.

it was the first day of college. you had been moving all of your things into your dorm along you siblings and mother. you were excited to begin this new chapter in your life and although your mom hated the idea that you were sleeping in a co-ed dorm, she was happy that you were finally getting real world experience.

you were sharing a dorm with a girl named Annie. you had only messaged her a few times, getting all her info and social media tags. she was bit on the shyer side, not really saying much when the two of you talked but you knew that she wouldn’t be a bad roommate.

“text us when you’re done getting your dorm together,” your sister reminded you as she placed the box on the floor. you went the front desk, saying the rest of your goodbyes when you felt someone accidentally hit you.

your siblings immediately asked if you were okay, “I-I’m so sorry,” you heard a timid voice say behind you. you turned around to face the tallest person you had ever met, “you’re okay, don’t worry about it!” you said with a smile plastered on your face.

his blond friend next to him laughed, “i think you’re our friends roommate! Annie is the girl right?” he asked. you nodded yes, “do you know her?” you asked them. you saw as the tall boy tried to stutter out an answer but didn’t, “yeah, we all went to high school together and managed to get into same college as well. I’m Reiner and this is my friend Bertholdt,” he introduced.

you introduced yourself as your siblings told you they were heading out, them not failing to make you embarrassed as they warned you about not getting any crazy ideas while you were away.

“we’ll walk you to your dorm if you don’t mind,” Reiner said. you gave them a smile as they pressed the elevator door, “not talkative, are you Bert?” you jokingly asked him. Reiner laughed at his reaction, “not really. we’re lucky if we get any words out of him and we’ve known him for years,” Reiner replied.

you laughed, poking Bert’s side, “well, I guess I’ll just make it my mission to make you talk,” you told him. by the time you reached your dorm and opened it, you heard Annie groan from seeing them.

“don’t tell me you’ve already made friends with them?” she asked you. you nodded yes, “great, now that’s going to give them a reason to be here even more,” she complained, “but now that you’re here, be useful with something and help me get something out of my car,” Annie stated, grabbing the blond by the arm.

Bertholdt felt himself getting nervous, realizing that he was going to left alone with you. once the door slammed shut, Bertholdt ran his sweaty palms against his pants, not really knowing what to do or say.

“so Bertholdt, you usually this awkward?” you joked again. he stared at you for a moment before feeling a blush cross his face, “uh, y-yeah, making friends isn’t as easy for me as it is for Reiner,” he explained. you gave him a look, with a small smirk playing at your lips.

he felt his heart stop suddenly. yeah, he had felt nervous before but this was a feeling he had never felt before. even the tiniest of smiles made his heart race and even being at close proximity with you made him sweaty.

wait. was this the feeling Reiner kept telling him about?

was this the feeling of actually liking someone? Bertholdt had really never liked someone before. given that many people thought that him and Annie would make a great couple, Annie had never saw Bert in that way and vice versa.

finally pulling back into reality, he stared down at you before giving you the tiniest of smiles, “what has you happy all of a sudden?” you asked. he shook his head, “n-nothing,” he replied.

later on that night, you were prepping the things the both of you needed for your movie night. you usually tended to Bert in your bed, basically attached to him like a koala as he held you close to his chest.

whenever the two of you cuddled, you were usually cuddled into him shirtless. he knew you liked his physique, he was tall, very built, and lean so whenever the chance presented itself, you would make him take his shirt off so the two of you cuddle ‘correctly’ as you liked to say.

you heard a knock on your door, realizing that it was Bertholdt and ran to it. you gave him a smile, placing a kiss on his lips before letting him in. Bert on the other hand had other plans and bent down for another kiss, quickly making it steamier than usual.

“where did that come from?” you asked a bit flustered, “just wanted to kiss ya,” he replied, making a beeline to your room. you followed as he had basically dragged you in there, crawling into bed as quickly as possible.

you grabbed the remote for your tv as the two of you got to scrolling through the movie lists. it didn’t take long until the two of you finally found a movie, settling with watching ‘Singing’ in the Rain’, one of your favorite movies.

for about an hour, you were engrossed with watching the movie, making side comments about how cute the couple was.

“what has you so affection tonight, Hoover?” you asked, your fingers dancing along his chest. he nervously touched the suede maroon box in his shorts as you remained silent, “I wanna ask you something,” he mentioned a bit quieter than usual.

you gave him a concern look, “you’re not breaking up with me, are you? you’ve been acting really weird since I spoke with Eren earlier today and if you got any implication-,” Bert cut you off with a kiss, surprising you completely, “it’s nothing like that, relax,” he said.

reaching into his pocket, he gripped the box almost feeling like his knuckles would turn white. you had covered yourself with the blanket, feeling the cold hit you. finally, Bert gripped your chin as a million thoughts ran in his head. he knew this was the next step in your relationship and oddly enough, he didn’t feel nervous at all.

“marry me,” Bert whispered as he opened the box and showed the ring. you felt your heart stop in its tracks as you gazed at the ring for a moment before looking to Bertholdt again, “really?” you asked, feeling tears spring into your eyes, “yes, of course Bertholdt,” you exclaimed as you tackled him into a kiss.

‘You Were Meant For Me’ was playing in the background as Bertholdt pulled away and took the ring out of its box to place on your shaky hand. you couldn’t stop gazing at the ring as Bert wiped a tear from your face.

“Reiner is the only one who knew I was going to do this tonight and although he wanted me to give this big elaborate speech, you know that really isn’t my style.”

you didn’t say anything back, jumping onto Bert again and kissing him, this time a lot steamier than usual. he was caught off guard but didn’t mind where you were going with this and let you continue what you were doing.

“we can call everyone tomorrow. i want to spend the rest of the night with you,” Bert whispered into your ear, as he started to remove your tank top, “I couldn’t agree more Mr.Hoover,” you said smiling.

Bert for the first in what felt like a long time smiled harder than he ever had before, “I appreciate it, Mrs.Hoover. Mrs.( your name ) Hoover,” he said back. you felt your smile get even brighter before nervously giggling at hearing those words coming from him.

you knew that everyone from Annie and up to your siblings would freak out about the news, but later that night after everything was said and done, both you and Bert sent a photo too Reiner. your hand was being held by Bertholdt as he showed the ring off to him with both your smiles plastered on your face.

#attack on titan #attack on titan imagine #attack on titan x reader #aot #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin imagine #shingeki no kyojin x reader #snk #bertholdt hoover #bertholdt imagine #bertholdt x reader #bertholdt hoover imagine #anime #anime imagines #anime imagine

145 notes · View notes