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hookingminor · 2 months

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4 times you took care of him + 1 time he took care of you - nico hischier

a/n: rewrite of an old fic of mine

cw: brief mentions of blood, stitches, alcohol

word count: 7.4k

summary: nico is the cute neighbor boy across the hall

Sunday nights were your nights. After a long week of studying and working crazy hours, you only had one day to yourself where you weren’t running around like a chicken with its head cut off and could take five minutes to finally breathe.

Sundays were also the only days you actually took the time to make yourself dinner. Most of your days were either spent in class or at the hospital, so you never prepared anything that couldn’t be done in less than ten minutes. Sometimes you were so lazy that you just counted on cafeteria food and granola bars to hold you over before having cereal for dinner and crashing by eleven o’clock.

Tonight’s specialty was your own take on a carbonara with some grilled chicken on the top. It wasn’t anything fancy, but you had been working on a recipe to perfect this for nearly three months now, and you were almost satisfied with the results.

It was in the middle of adding the finishing touches by combining the pasta and the sauce when you heard a knock on your door. Setting the towel on the counter and reducing the stove heat to a low simmer, you made your way to answer the door.

“Oh, hi, Nico,” you said with surprise when you saw your neighbor on the other side. He lived across the hall from you, but you rarely saw him in the building. Still, it wasn’t hard to notice that he was incredibly attractive.

“Hi,” he greeted you. The smells of your dinner wafted over him, and he peeked over your head to catch a glimpse of what you were preparing.

“I just stopped by to drop this off,” he said, handing you an envelope. “They keep mixing up our mailboxes.”

“Thank you,” you replied as you glanced down at the letter. “I have a few for you as well, hold on just a second.”

You turned away from the door and walked back towards the kitchen to where you kept a stash of his mail. You’d been meaning to drop it off, but your hours at home never coincided with each other.

Granted, you could have slipped it under his door, but you really just wanted an excuse to talk to the cute neighbor boy. You were just waiting until you worked up the nerve to knock on his door.

Nico took a few steps into your apartment, not wanting to overstep but also not wanting to stand in the hall awkwardly as you rummaged through some papers. As he waited, his eyes wandered back over to the stove where you were cooking some type of pasta.

His stomach growled lowly as the smell of seasoned chicken and sauces flooded his senses, and he realized he hadn’t eaten anything in nearly five hours.

“Sorry,” he said with a blush. There was no way you hadn’t heard that grumble. “Guess I forgot to eat something after practice.”

“Did you want some?” You asked almost too eagerly. “I mean, I made quite a bit,” you backtracked quickly, “I usually survive the week on leftovers.”

“No, it’s okay,” he chuckled, but Nico wanted nothing more than to shove a forkful of whatever you had made into his mouth. “I’ll probably just order something for delivery.”

“Please, I insist,” you persisted, “I made a lot, and your food won’t be here for, like, another hour at least.” God, you were coming off as desperate, and you mentally slapped yourself for it.

He looked at you hesitantly, obviously not wanting to intrude, but damn if he wasn’t really hungry.

You didn’t wait for his reply before dropping the mail back where it was and crossing the kitchen to the stove. Pulling out an extra plate, you began piling it with pasta and chicken, and Nico figured it was too late to refuse you again.

“Take a seat,” you suggested as you plated a dish for yourself. “You’re not an intrusion, I promise. I don’t get a lot of company anyways.”

“Busy life?” Nico asked. It was then that he realized he really didn’t know much about you despite having run into you multiple times in the hallways.

“You could say that,” you chuckled humorlessly. It was a combination of being both busy and having no friends, but you weren’t about to tell him that.

“What do you do?” He questioned as he rested his elbows on the table.

“I’m a nursing student, so I spend all my time studying or working at the hospital,” you explained as you brought the plates over to the table. He mumbled a quiet ‘thank you’ when you set his food down in front of him. It looked delicious. Nico’s skills in the kitchen were subpar to say the least; he couldn’t make anything that didn’t come with box instructions or wasn’t baked chicken and vegetables. So having an actual home cooked meal was starting to feel like Christmas.

“Is that why I only ever see you coming home at midnight?” He wondered, picking up a fork to take a bite.

Nico was right, it was delicious.

“Yeah, hours are a little crazy for me right now, but they should settle down once I graduate,” you replied as you took a bite. It was your best carbonara yet, but it wasn’t quite perfect. “What about you? Why are you always coming home at midnight?”

You’d never talked to him much after that first day when he helped you with a couple boxes as you moved in. Most of your interactions were restricted to passing each other in the halls and the polite conversation about how your day was going and the weather.

“I, uh, play hockey,” he started, “and we get back from road trips really late sometimes.”

“No shit, really?” Your eyes widened in shock, “like you play for the Devils?” You weren’t well versed in sports in general, and even less so in New Jersey sports. However, you did hear chatter around from your classmates and coworkers about various games.

Nico nodded his head in agreement, “Yeah, I’m the captain.” Every revelation about him continued to shock you.

“So I’m dining with New Jersey royalty then, huh?” You teased after a moment. Even though you didn’t know much, you did know the Devils were doing exceptionally well at the moment.

He blushed at your compliment, “I’m not royalty.”

“Your team’s current record says otherwise given the team’s horrendous past ,” you commented, dropping the little bit of knowledge you knew as you overheard your lab partner go on about the Devils’ hot streak.

Nico raised his eyebrows in surprise at your statement.

“I’m not an actual fan, so don’t test me,” you chuckled at his surprise, “My lab partner is always talking about the Devils, and I may have unknowingly processed some of the information.”

“It’s not because of me. The team’s just doing well in general,” he brushed it off casually, but you knew that wasn’t totally the case. The team may be good, but good leadership can be what makes or breaks them.

“So you’re not a big cook then, I presume?” You asked instead, changing the subject to something else. Nico probably talked about hockey enough with other people, you didn’t want to bore him even more.

“You could say that,” he said, repeating your phrase from earlier. “If it’s not something a seven year old could make, it’s not something I could make.” He had barely registered that he’d finished off everything on his plate by now while you were still finishing yours.

“Did you want more?” You asked, noticing his empty plate, but Nico shook his head.

“No, thank you, this was more than enough,” Nico insisted. “I’ve bothered you enough tonight.”

“Really, I don’t mind,” you said, clearing off your plate. “It’s nice to talk to someone who isn’t asking me about upcoming exams or patient reports or asking for more painkillers.”

“It’s nice not talking about hockey, too,” he agreed.

Rising from your seat, you took his plate and yours to the sink as you were both now finished.

“I got this,” Nico said quickly, following you to the sink and lightly hip checking you out the way. “I do know basic manners. You cooked, so I’ll clean.”

You opened your mouth to argue with him, but the look on his face said the conversation was already over, and he grabbed the sponge with one hand. Deciding to leave it alone, you held your hands up in surrender and backed away from the sink. While he was busy, you packed up the leftovers into a plastic container.

“I make dinner every Sunday,” you said after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “So, if you want, you’re always free to join me.” You didn’t look at him when you said this, trying to keep it casual and so he wouldn’t see the way your face was riddled with embarrassment. You were trying to subtly ask him to come over more, and you didn’t want to be faced with his rejection.

You heard the sink shutoff and saw his body turn towards yours out of the corner of your eyes as he leaned against the counter.

“I’d really like that,” he said, “but I do have one condition though.” You looked up and met his gaze with raised brows.

“You have to teach me how to cook,” he continued with an easy grin as he dried off his hands with a towel.

“You’ve got a deal,” you agreed, matching his smile with one of your own.

You sent Nico home that night with the leftover carbonara and his mail despite his protests, but you argued that he couldn’t live off takeout forever and that you could always make more food whereas he could not.

The next Sunday he had showed up around dinner time once again, this time bringing over a plate of cookies that he most definitely bought at the store but tried to play off as baking them himself. He had said if you were going to be doing a majority of the work, the least he could do was bring you something in return.

Every Sunday after that Nico was at your place. On the off chance he was out of town, he always left you a note on your door saying he wouldn’t be making it and notifying you of when he’d see you next. You didn’t need the notes, he didn’t have to tell you whether or not he was coming, but they made your heart flutter every time you came home and saw a blue sticky note waiting for you.

You taught him a few staple dishes, mainly how to cook pasta and rice and some salads. His capabilities weren’t all that vast, and he wanted to remain in the realm of foods that weren’t too complicated so he couldn’t fuck up.

Making dinner with Nico turned into messing around in the kitchen for a couple hours most of the time. You teased him about his chopping abilities and he teased you every time your small hands dropped something due to your lack of coordination, to which you complained how not everyone could be a professional athlete.

And every time you two ate at your same spots at the table, sometimes splitting a bottle of wine that Nico would bring over.

Every once in a while Nico would arrive with a bag of takeout in his hand, declaring that you needed a break from all the cooking. There was no reason to have dinner together since it wasn’t under the guise of teaching him something new, but you still welcomed him nonetheless.

Sundays were no longer your nights, but that was perfectly fine by you as long as you could keep sharing them with Nico.

Nico was getting a little desperate.

Two months had passed since he started coming over for weekly dinners, and he was making no progress. It’s not like he was really trying, though. If he was being honest, he wasn’t quite sure how to flirt with a woman without the intention of sleeping with her.

Which isn’t to say he didn’t want to sleep with you because he definitely did, it just wasn’t all that he wanted.

He hoped he conveyed interest on his part, but he wasn’t positive you were picking up on his hints. Or maybe you just weren’t into him.

So, he decided to take it one step further. He bought some plants.

Nico knew next to nothing about plants other than that they needed water, but he’d noticed you kept a few in your apartment near your large window.

Once again, he found himself knocking on your door, but this time you weren’t expecting it.

“Hey, what’s up?” You asked him when you opened the door. It wasn’t like him to show up to your place out of the blue.

“I wanted to ask you a favor,” he replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’ve got a week long roadie and was wondering if, maybe, you’d look after my plants?”

“Oh yeah, definitely, I can do that,” you said with a smile.

“Do you have a minute right now? I can show them to you really quick,” he asked, gesturing with his arm to his door. You nodded your head in agreement, and Nico took a few steps backward to let you into his apartment.

You followed him through the entrance and paused briefly. His apartment layout was the exact same as yours only flipped. He walked until he hit the same balcony window where you kept your plants, and you saw he had about four small pots along with a large pot that sat in the corner.

“This is the gang,” he introduced, spreading his arms to show them off.

“This is so cute,” you chuckled, stepping closer to get a better look at the plants. You noticed one of them was also one you had.

“I’m going to be honest,” he started. “I only recently bought them, so I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“Well, they seem to be still living, so you haven’t done anything too bad,” you teased lightly.

“Oh, let me get the spare key for you,” he said suddenly before he turned and left you alone to fetch the key.

Nico returned less than a minute later, small black key fob in his hand. You opened your hand for him to place it in your palm.

“When will you be back?” You asked, stretching back up from your squatted position.

“Next Wednesday,” he clarified, “and I leave tomorrow.” You nodded.

There wasn’t much more to say, so you told him a brief ‘good luck’ on his roadie before leaving. Returning to your own, you made a mental note to check in on his plants tomorrow.

The following afternoon, you let yourself into Nico’s apartment with the key he’d given you. You read the sticky note he left for you on the counter, the words reading ‘in case of an emergency’ along with his phone number.

You rolled your eyes at the note, laughing lightly at his phrasing of ‘in case of an emergency.’ You hardly thought watering plants would cause a catastrophic event, but the gesture was cute.

Filling up a few cups of water, you made your way over to his plants and distributed the water throughout until you’d gone over all of them. Before you could think better of it, you snapped a picture of the plants in the window before opening a text thread to Nico.

You: First day all done! :)

He didn’t reply for a few hours, but that was okay because you hadn’t expected him to reply at all.

Nico: They’re looking better already!

Ever since that first day, you began exchanging messages. His replies were sporadic, but you didn’t mind; he was a busy guy. Still, he managed to text you whenever he could, and your conversations quickly turned away from his plants to other subjects.

You recommended some new shows for him to watch while he was on road trips, and he told you where his favorite takeout restaurants were when you felt too lazy to cook.

Honestly, Sundays didn’t feel the same without him, but you didn’t tell him you stopped cooking when he didn’t show up.

Even when Nico was back in town, you found yourself texting him frequently in your classes and also on your breaks, and Nico found himself waking up every morning looking forward to whatever message you’d sent after he’d fallen asleep.

The incessant pounding at your door woke you up from your sleep. You knew who it was immediately as there was only one person who visited you, and you were ready to yell at him after you answered the door.

Throwing on a sweatshirt, you stomped your way to the door and shouted out, “I’m coming!” so Nico could take the hint to shut the hell up.

“Oh my god, Nico,” you groaned as you threw open the door, “It’s two in the fucking morning.” But it wasn’t Nico you were greeted with.

Or rather, he wasn’t the only one outside the door.

“Uh, hi,” a man said as Nico leaned against him, very obviously drunk.

“Hi?” You asked, your eyes flicking over to the drunken Nico.

“I think he lost his key,” the stranger said, “and then he was knocking on your door before I could take him back to my place.”

“Of course,” you sighed. “You love bothering me, don’t you, Nico?”

“Y/N,” he slurred your name when he heard your voice. “I told you she was beautiful, Hughes.” He clearly meant to whisper the last part into his friend’s ear, but his impaired state changed his whisper into a quiet shout.

“Alright, buddy, let’s keep it down,” his friend said with a chuckle as he tried to spare him from saying something else embarrassing.

“Do you still have my key? I forgot mine,” Nico asked instead, lifting his eyes to yours.

“I left it in your apartment last time I watered the plants,” you answered and Nico let out an annoyed groan.

“It’s fine, he can stay here tonight,” you said, addressing his friend this time.

“You sure? I don’t want to bother you,” his friend insisted. “I can just bring him back to my place.”

“Don’t worry about it, you already dragged him all the way here. I can handle it,” you said and opened the door further.

His friend lugged him into your apartment and led Nico to the couch, plopping him down on the cushions.

“Thanks for doing this. I’m sorry for waking you,” he apologized once Nico was settled.

“No problem, I’m used to him interrupting my nights,” you chuckled lightly, though it sounded more sexual than you intended for it to.

“Yeah, well,” the stranger said with an awkward laugh, “I’ll get out of your hair then.” And then he turned to leave. “Hischier! Text me in the morning!” He called out one last time and Nico grumbled his acknowledgement. Then his friend was gone, leaving you alone with a drunken twenty-something year old.

“Alright, Nico, let’s get you ready for bed,” you mumbled, more to yourself than to him. He was splayed out on his back on your couch, head lolled against a decorative pillow. If it weren’t for his indecipherable sounds, you would’ve thought he was asleep.

You left him alone for a minute as you retreated back to your room to grab a couple extra blankets and a pillow that wouldn’t end up hurting his neck.

When you returned, Nico was now on his stomach with one arm dangled off the couch.

“Feeling okay, bud?” You asked gently, brushing back a few strands of his hair to check if he was still awake. He hummed a quiet ‘yeah’ and you lifted his head to replace the throw pillow with a fluffier one from your bed.

You draped one large blanket over his body and then set another smaller one on top of that. Nico sighed in content and you made a quick trip to the kitchen to retrieve a couple Advil pills and a glass of water.

“Can you drink this before you fall asleep?” You asked when you got back to the living room.

Despite his intoxication, Nico managed to sit up just enough to swallow the pills down with a drink of water before flopping his head back down. You set the half-full glass on the coffee table and leaned over to turn off the lamp.

“You good to sleep?” You questioned, and Nico nodded his head to the best of his ability.

“I’ll be in my room if you need anything,” you said finally, making your way back to the hallway.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said quietly before you were out of hearing range, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Nico,” you murmured with a small smile.

“How the hell did this even happen? Sticks are supposed to remain on the ice, you know,” you wondered with curiosity.

Nico knocked on your door at nearly midnight, hair still damp from his shower and still in his Devils sweats. If it weren’t for the fact that you were awake and watching a movie, you wouldn’t have noticed the knocking.

When you opened the door, you were met with split stitches and tired eyes. Ushering him into your apartment, you led him to the bathroom where you kept the first-aid.

Nico pushed himself up so he could sit on your counter and gave you a sheepish smile.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “They stitched me up after the game, but they came out.”

“So, why didn’t you contact your trainers or something?” You inquired, opening your kit and grabbing the alcohol.

“Because I have a perfectly good nurse here at home to stitch me back up,” he answered with an easy grin. You gave him an incredulous look.

“It seems like I’m constantly getting the short end of the stick in this relationship,” you said as you stepped between his legs to inspect his face. It wasn’t anything serious, just a few stitches that broke. In all honesty, he probably could’ve survived the night without fixing it, but you weren’t going to turn down an opportunity to be this close to him.

“Close your eyes,” you ordered before he could say anything back. Nico followed your instruction obediently, fluttering his eyes shut as if he had all the time in the world.

Using a small pair of scissors, you snipped at the remaining stitches. You took the tweezers next and gently pulled at the broken strands, slowly removing them from his cheek. Nico’s eyes twitched slightly at the discomfort, but he said nothing as you reopened his wound.

“You’re really good at this,” he stated, and you noticed that he had opened one eye to watch you. You blushed at his compliment, your cheeks heating at the warm feeling you got when you looked into his eyes.

Averting his gaze, you muttered a quiet ‘thank you’ before opening an alcohol pad.

“You’re going to want to really close your eyes for this, it might burn,” you recommended. The cut was along his cheekbone, stretching about three inches and oozing just a little bit of blood.

You cleaned along the cut lightly, one of your hands cupping his cheek while the other managed the wipe. After throwing the bloodied pad off to the side, you brought out the small bottle of lidocaine you had stashed away underneath all your bandaids. You squeezed a bit onto a cotton swab and dabbed the area around the cut. The lidocaine took a few minutes to kick in, so you busied yourself by preparing the thread and sanitizing the needle.

“I want you to know that I’m not actually a certified nurse yet. I’m still in training,” you explained. “So, if this hurts it’s your fault.”

“I trust you,” he said simply with a smirk.

“I would hope so,” you scoffed, “You’re letting a nursing student with a needle stitch near the eye of the New Jersey Devils Captain.”

“Besides, if you fuck up, I’ll just blame it on you when we lose after I can’t play because I’ve been blinded,” he teased.

“Don’t even joke about that, Nico. All of New Jersey would burn me alive,” you said, slugging his arm in response.

Was he about to let a beautiful, uncertified girl stitch him back together just because he wanted an excuse to spend more time with her? Absolutely.

He gave you a light chuckle as he leaned back on his hands, the fabric of his t-shirt stretching deliciously over his broad chest. It took everything in you to not linger your eyes over his arms and how large they looked right now.

“Is it numb yet?” You asked instead, refocusing your attention on threading the needle.

“Yeah, I think so,” he replied, bringing a couple fingers to poke at his cheek, but you swatted his hand away before he could do more damage.

Taking the same position as before, you stood between his legs again and angled his head slightly to the side so you could examine it under better light.

“Just let me know if it hurts, okay?” You insisted, holding the needle between your tweezers. You waited for Nico’s nod of agreement before starting.

You punctured the skin with the point and crossed the wound before poking through the other side. Nico’s hands instinctively reached out to grasp at your hips as he breathed in a sharp breath of air.

“Oh my god, is it not numb?” You panicked, pausing all your movements as you gauged his face for any signs of pain.

“It stung a little bit,” he replied, but the tightened grip on your waist said otherwise. “I was just a little shocked, is all.” He added that last part when he saw the worry spread across your face as your eyes widened in fear of hurting him. “Keep going, I’m fine.”

You gave him a hesitant look, not wanting to continue if it was going to cause him pain. This time when he squeezed your sides, it was to reassure you and encourage you to continue.

Nico kept his hands where they were, sliding his thumbs just underneath the hem of your shirt to trace soft circles into your skin. Recommencing your movements, you repeated the same crisscrossing threads over his cut, trying to work as quickly as possible.

When you’d finished, you knotted off the ends, clipped the remaining thread, and applied a salve over the sealed wound.

“There you go,” you said as you finished touching him up.

“And my kiss to make it feel better?” He asked with a smirk. You rolled your eyes at his presumptuousness but leaned in to press a light kiss near his stitches.

“Can I trust you to not pull them out again?” You retorted, stepping out of his grip to clean up your supplies.

“I don’t know…” he trailed off as in deep contemplation, “I might need you to spend the night and keep an eye on me.”

“Nice try, bud,” you chuckled, “but it’s not going to happen.” He pouted.

“And if you do tear them again, I’m not restitching it.”

You finished packing away your materials and walked Nico back to your front door.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said when you opened the door.

“Anytime,” you replied, “Goodnight, Nico.”

Leaning forward, he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek in appreciation before crossing the few feet to his door. You hoped he couldn’t see the way your eyes widened in shock, but if he did see, he didn’t say anything about it.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

+ 1

For the first time since you’ve met Nico, it was finally your turn to cancel on dinner. You really didn’t want to, as the dinners with him were the highlight of your week, but you knew if you broke concentration for even a minute to entertain him, your mind would be thinking about him even after he left. And you were not going to pass the NCLEX if Nico was invading all of your thoughts. You’d been studying for this exam for months, but now it was a week out and it was crunch time.

You: Gotta cancel on dinner Sunday, sorry :(

Nico: Going out of town? Got a hot date?

You: The only dates I’ll be having for the next week is between me and my millions of notes for my board exam

Nico: Stressed out?

You: You wouldn’t even believe, so if I’m MIA for a few days, don’t worry

Nico: Are we still on for next Sunday?

You: Yes. We will either be celebrating or commiserating, so get your wine ready

Nico: I’ll bring over the best since we’ll be celebrating :)

You didn’t know how to reply, so you reacted to his message with a thumbs up before leaving him on read.

For the next few days, you studied your ass off. Sunday came, but when six o’clock rolled around, you couldn’t help your thoughts from straying from your studies and over to what you would be doing with Nico if it weren’t for this stupid exam.

And as if he had read your mind, your phone dinged with a new text message.

Nico: Open your door

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you read the text, and you were just about to tell him off for disturbing you after you already told him you didn’t have the time.

However, that wasn’t the case because when you opened your door, Nico was nowhere to be found although a paper bag rested on the ground in front of you.

Cautiously, you picked up the bag and brought it inside, immediately smelling the tzatziki sauce from your favorite Greek restaurant.

You: What’s this?

You texted him, along with a picture of the bag.

Nico: Even if we aren’t making dinner, you should still eat, and I figured gyros were better than cereal

He was right. You had planned on pouring yourself a bowl of cereal when the hunger became too much and forced you to take a break. And gyros definitely were better than Frosted Flakes.

You: You’re a lifesaver, truly. Thank you!

Nico opened the message and didn’t reply, even though he really wanted to, but he knew you had studying to do and the last thing he wanted was to distract you.

After pulling an all-nighter, Sunday slowly turned into Monday, and you had finally decided to go to bed at nine on Monday morning. The few hours of sleep you got were welcomed, but rest did little to calm yourself down. The exam was on Friday, and you still had four years worth of material to remember.

So, you dragged yourself out of bed around three in the afternoon and plopped yourself on the ground in front of your couch where all your notes were still spread on the floor.

You’d gotten through about four chapters in your review book before you heard a knock at the door.

Pushing yourself up by your hands, you crossed the length of the apartment to the door. If it was Nico, he was about to be really turned off by how messy you looked.

And once again, it wasn’t him.

Just like yesterday, something awaited you in front of your door. This time, it was a four cup drink tray filled with different coffees.

Picking them up off the ground, you walked it back into your home and set it on your kitchen counter. There was a blue sticky note attached to the top in true Nico style, and you were smiling at the familiar handwriting before you even read what it said.

Thought you could use a pick-me-up :)

PS: I didn’t know what you liked, but you’re NOT allowed to drink these all at once

You chuckled at the last sentence. Of course he would send you four different orders because he didn’t know what you wanted. In all honesty, you could survive on just plain black coffee with nothing added if needed, but the fact that he sent you options had your heart swelling.

You scanned through each cup, reading the labels on each one as they ranged from a standard black coffee to a sweet caramel latte, all of them iced (you had mentioned once that you only drank iced coffee, even in the middle of the winter). It didn’t slip your mind that this was from that expensive shop a few blocks down, the one you could only allow yourself to go to once a month because you knew it would drain you quickly.

Deciding to tease Nico a little bit, you stuck a straw in every single lid. You connected all four straws in the middle and closed your lips over them and took a drink. The resulting taste wasn’t fantastic, but it was worth the funny selfie you took drinking them that you sent to Nico.

You: What was it that I wasn’t allowed to do? Your note wasn’t clear

Nico: I’m never sending you coffee again

On Tuesday, Nico sent you a bouquet of sunflowers. They were massive and bright and you couldn’t see over them as you placed them on the table.

Hope these sunflowers brighten up your day

On Wednesday, Nico got back from his short roadie. Maybe it was the constant studying, or maybe it was the little gifts Nico sent you, but your stress levels seemed to calm down as the week went on. There was still the pressure to do well, but every time Nico sent something to you, it was as if everything became a little bit more manageable.

You invited him over to hang out for a little bit, just to thank him for the things he’d done for you. You expected him to stay for a few minutes, maybe a half hour at the most, and then you’d send him home with some cookies you’d baked for him. Instead, he grabbed the plate of cookies and made himself comfortable on your couch.

“You just made these?” He asked with a mouthful of cookie as he picked up a stack of flashcards. You nodded as you took a seat on the opposite side of the couch.

“What’s the therapeutic drug level for theo… theoph…” he began to say, but trailed off, “Never mind. I was trying to help, but I can’t pronounce any of these words.” He ended the sentence with a chuckle before flicking the flashcard over to you.

“The word is theophylline,” you laughed, “and the answer is 10-20 micrograms per deciliter.”

“I understand none of those words, so that probably means it’s right,” he said as he finished his second cookie.

“If you want to help me I know something you can do,” you said eagerly, “And you don’t even have to speak, just sit there and look pretty.”

“That I can do,” he agreed with a nod and sat up to place the cookies on the coffee table. “Where do you want me?”

“Right there is fine. I’m just going to do a standard routine checkup like you’d get at the doctor’s,” you explained, grabbing your small bag of medical tools.

You ran through your procedure, checking your notes periodically to make sure you asked all the questions. Nico had no problem being your puppet, even answering some questions with ridiculous answers.

“And are you sexually active?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He asked with an eyebrow wiggle. You gave him an unamused glare.

“It’s part of the questions, dumbass,” you rolled your eyes and Nico laughed. “Never mind, I already know the answer anyway.”

“That was one time!” He groaned as he flopped his head back against the cushion. You were obviously referring to the one time you had a run in with one of his hookups. “I haven’t had anyone here since then.”

“Thank god for that,” you muttered, “but she did seem like a nice girl.”

Nico gave you a disbelieving look. You’d ran into them as you were returning from an overnight shift at nearly seven in the morning as Nico was trying to get rid of her, but she was hoping to get another date out of him before she left.

It was an awkward interaction to say the least, and Nico immediately called over to you to get your attention. The girl was displeased because you were interrupting their conversation and also because Nico had used you as an excuse to get out of scheduling another date.

“Oh, Y/N, you still needed me to fix that thing for you, right?” He had asked when he saw you walking down the hall. It took you all of two seconds to process the situation and Nico’s panicked and pleading eyes before you were agreeing. You even threw in the fact that it was urgent and that he needed to help right now, to which the girl gave you an eye roll.

Needless to say, Nico thanked you profusely for saving his ass and never called the girl again. That was over three months ago, and you had yet to see another girl leave his apartment.

“Well, I think I’m done with all the questions,” you concluded finally. “I think it’s safe to say you are in impeccable shape, Mr. Hischier.”

“Is this your subtle way of kicking me out?” He asked.

“Technically, I never invited you to stay. You kind of just sat here and made yourself at home,” you replied.

“I’m sorry for wanting to catch up with my friend after not seeing her in a week,” he joked.

“And you’re going to have to wait another few days for that, bud,” you chuckled.

“Fine, fine,” he conceded, “I’ll go, but I’m taking the cookies.”

“They were yours to begin with, idiot.”

On Thursday, you received one final package. It was a wrapped box, obviously done by someone who’s never wrapped a gift in their life.

Opening it, there was Nico’s same scrawl on the familiar blue sticky note.

Something to look forward to after you ace this exam tomorrow!

Underneath the note was a ticket to a Devils game on Sunday against Vancouver, but it wasn’t the only thing in the box. You pulled out a red sweatshirt with the New Jersey Devils logo on the front. There was nothing on the back, but the number ‘13’ could be seen on both sleeves.

The thought of Nico sending you something with his number on it had your cheeks heating instantly. He’d been teasing you about coming to a game, and it seemed you finally had a reason to go now.

After you took your exam, it was like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Your school days were behind you now, and you could now start your career. The exam results still took six weeks, but you were feeling pretty confident in yourself.

Nico had texted you instructions to wait for him after the game on Sunday. He wanted you to try and meet him somewhere, but your navigation skills were terrible and you were sure to get lost in an arena you’d never been in.

So, you met him outside his car in the parking lot where the team parked.

“There he is,” you called out, clapping, when you saw him exit the arena, “First star of the night with two goals, Captain Nico Hischier!” You gave him your best announcer voice.

“Shut up,” he replied with a chuckle, but his face was beaming with a wide smile.

“Good game tonight,” you said with a smile of your own. “Trying to impress someone?”

By this time, Nico had reached the car, and he was dropping his bag on the ground before wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off the ground in a hug.

“I’m always trying to impress you,” he mumbled against your hair before he set you back down.

“Well, consider me impressed,” you gushed.

“I was thinking...” Nico said after a moment.

“Uh oh,” you interjected with a worried look.

“Don’t be a dork,” he chuckled. “I was thinking that instead of going back home and making dinner I can take you out tonight instead.”

“Celebratory dinner for your win?” You questioned.

“And for your exam,” he added, “And also maybe as a date?” Nico said the last part quietly and quickly averted your gaze.

“Are you asking me on a date, Nico?” You asked for clarification, but the smile on your face was spreading wider as the seconds passed.

“Yes, I am,” he said with a deep swallow.

You squinted your eyes, as if in deep contemplation.

“Well, I’ve only been waiting, like, months for you to ask me,” you teased. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

“Really?” He asked, eyes bright as he reached out to pull you closer to his body. You hummed in agreement and connected your hands behind his neck.

“I was starting to think you’d never get the hint,” you said quietly.

“I was just waiting for the right time,” he insisted, hands resting on your hips, “And if I’m being honest, I really want to kiss you right now.”

You didn’t answer him in words. Instead, you pushed up on your tip-toes and leaned in to connect your lips to his. The kiss was soft, neither of you wanting to push too far too fast. He moved his lips against yours gently, taking his time to convey how he felt about you.

When you finally pulled back to catch your breath, you both had stupid looks on your face as you were both giddy with joy.

“Atta boy, Cap!” A loud voice shouted across the lot along with some hoots, and you let your head fall against Nico’s chest as you chuckled to yourself.

“Fuck off, Jack!” Nico yelled back before dipping his head down to kiss the top of yours. “Ignore him, he’s annoying. Let’s get out of here before they try and come over.”

“Lead the way,” you said, breaking apart so you could climb in his car.

Six weeks later, your results came in.

You let yourself into Nico’s unlocked apartment. Ever since you started dating, it just seemed a lot easier to leave your apartments unlocked during the day so you could easily bounce between places.

“Nico, it’s here!” You exclaimed, spotting him on the couch. He looked up from whatever show he was watching and paused it immediately when he saw the envelope in your hands.

You basically sprinted across the room and plopped down onto his lap before shoving it into his hands.

“You open it, I can’t do it,” you murmured against the side of his head, your arms slinging over his shoulders as one of his arms wrapped around your waist.

Nico chuckled as he ripped open the paper and pulled out the letter.

“What does it say?” You asked, your head tucked into his neck so you couldn’t read the results.

“Babe…” he said softly, “I’m sorry.”

“What?” You asked worriedly, peeling yourself from his neck to read the letter yourself.

Congratulations! You have passed the NCLEX exam!

You didn’t even bother to read the rest of the letter once you’d read those first two sentences.

“You asshole, that wasn’t funny!” You said, pushing his head away from you as he laughed.

“I thought it was kind of funny,” he replied, “And now my girlfriend is officially a sexy nurse.” Nico pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.

“You better get that idea out of your head right now,” you said warningly, already knowing where his thoughts were headed.

“All jokes aside, I’m proud of you, baby,” he said happily.

“I probably would’ve combusted from stress had it not been for your little gifts,” you admitted.

“What can I say? I was so whipped for you,” he said.

“You really were, weren’t you? The flowers and the sweatshirt with your number on it…” you teased, and he poked your side in retaliation.

“Kidding,” you giggled happily, “and I’m whipped for you, too, Nico.”

#nhl imagine #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #hockey imagine #fics #my writing #nhl fic #nhl x reader

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stevebabey · 7 months

Text

Eddie is beginning to wonder if he’ll ever reach a point where Steve couldn’t reduce him to this state.

This state being… transfixed. Eddie is sure he must look like a lovesick cartoon. In fact, if he could manage to drag his gaze away, he’d probably find red hearts circling around his head in a halo, popping like little bubbles.

But Eddie can’t move his eyes. Can’t even close his mouth either.

Steve’s talking to him too, which is most definitely worse — he’s totally missing every word. He can see Steve’s lips moving, pink plush lips wrapping around words but fuck, that was a total trap because now Eddie is just looking at his lips. He tries to refocus, to listen. His eyes just wander back to what he was staring back at the first place.

Was Steve like this all the time? Just a walking around looking so damn delectable?

Or is it Eddie, just a starved man who’s been living off stolen glances, for as long as he can remember? For once, he’s learning, he’s allowed to look.

And by God, is he looking.

Steve’s not even doing it on purpose either, which probably makes the whole thing funnier. Eddie knows what his boyfriend (boyfriend! he thinks giddily in his mind) looks like when he’s cleaned up to impress. He can spot the way Steve preens beneath Eddie’s lingering gaze.

This is not that. Today, Steve is just cleaning, a usual Sunday morning ritual.

He’s got some old sport shorts on and he’s clearly grown a bit since he first got them— unless Hawkins has always been giving out slutty little shorts to the basketball team (They haven’t. Eddie would know if they did.)

He’s wearing one of his wife-beater singlets too. It’s a little on the scrappy side though, considering it’s nearly see-through with how worn it is.

Honestly, in Eddie’s humble and gay opinion, it’s stupidly hot. The dark hair dusted across of Steve’s chest is visible beneath it, the shirt showing off the shape of his broad chest. Even better, his happy trail is visible and goddamn, if that doesn’t make Eddie happy, he doesn’t know what will.

But it’s not even that.

Quite frankly, Eddie’s rather embarrassed that he’s basically blue-screening because Steve is pulling out the cord out from the vacuum cleaner.

But… but he’s yanking it up towards his chest, slow and strong repetitive motions— that take enough effort to make his biceps bulge with every tug.

Eddie can’t stop watching. The cord must be several metres long and he’s not sure if he should be cursing it or thanking it for the view he gets; Steve’s tan arms flexing and rippling. Try as he might, Eddie can’t help imagining how they must look when Steve’s got his hand aroun—

“—hello? Are you even listening to me?”

Steve’s voice cuts into Eddie’s dangerously side-tracked thoughts and he pauses his tugging at the same time. It’s the thing that finally allows him to break his lustful stare at Steve’s arms. Oh God, he just got all hot and bothered over his boyfriend doing the vacuuming.

“Hello.” Eddie says back, because that was the first word to register in his brain. “I mean- yes. I’m—”

Eddie decides mid-sentence that he’s not getting away with the lie. He pivots. “Okay, no, I didn’t hear that. Would you please tell me what you just said, oh lovely sweet man of mine?”

Ever the butterer-upper, he was. Thank God it works on Steve. He rolls his eyes a little but there’s an adoring grin on his lips.

“Man of mine,” Steve mutters amusedly under his breath. He drops the vacuum cord on the carpeted floor and leans down the grab the handle of the vacuum. “You just kinda froze when you came in. I was asking if everything was okay? I’m just doing this room then I’ll be done, if you don’t like the noise.”

Eddie adores that Steve’s taken his silence as though he might be afraid of the vacuum cleaner or something. He nearly snorts aloud at how far from the truth it is.

“Uh huh.” Eddie nods, not bothering to correct him. He jerks a thumb behind him, pointing at nothing. “I’m just gonna…”

He spins on his heel and exits left stage, fast as he can while still looking normal (he’s unsuccessful, as he leaves a baffled Steve behind him.) As he enters into the kitchen and decides to fix them both a pot of coffee, Eddie lets himself giggle over the pure absurdity of what just happens.

It’s mortifying. It’s hilarious. He can never tell Steve.

Except, when Steve comes to find him in the kitchen and trades a kiss for some coffee, Eddie can’t help it. All he ever wants to do is make Steve laugh.

He decides it’s worth the embarrassment when Steve laughs so hard coffee comes out his nose.

Steve teasingly promises that he’ll to try be less distracting, then rescinds his words at Eddie’s abject reaction (“Don’t you dare.”) looking far too smug— in a delighted sort of way. Preening, in that way Eddie loves.

Their first kiss, as Eddie slides onto Steve’s lap and loops his arms over his shoulders, fingers dancing on those tasty arms, tastes a little bit like coffee. Their mugs grow cold, untouched.

Eddie doesn’t mind — he’s too busy finding out that the rest of their kisses taste like something between sunlight and Steve.

#have; the thought i’ve been having every time i vacuum #i’m one of those bitches who just like pulls out the cord the whole way when i start #and now i say so is steve #just a lil ficlet to get my writing brain up again #ruby writes steddie #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #fluff #it’s always just fluff with me innit #<3 #i dunno how active we all still are…… 🧐#guess i’ll find out

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tightjeansjavi · 3 months

Text

snooze

A/N: this is all @corazondebeskar fault 🥺

~Word Count: 717~

Summary: Joel loves to nap

Pairing | Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: none, domestic fluff, soft!joel, peepaw!joel and a sprinkle of angst, readers nickname is honeypie and lady, reader has no physical descriptions (given the content of my blog, all fics are +18 minors dni!)

The last thing Joel Miller ever expected after the outbreak was finding himself in a domestic situation where he had the luxury of fucking napping.

He loved to nap.

Sometimes he’d fall asleep in the porch chair out on the back deck with the sun warming his face. He’d set his guitar down to the side, cross his arms over his chest and mumble about how he’s just gonna rest his eyes for a few minutes.

When you come outside to check on him, he’s snoozing, soft snores slipping past his plush lips. Face relaxed, and the once permanent furrow of his brows is no longer present.

Sometimes after dinner he’d situate himself on the couch with you and Ellie on either side of him while he lets Ellie pick out a movie to watch. He’ll argue that he won’t fall asleep..this time. But between the blanket draped over his legs, and Ellie curled up with her head in his lap, he’s dozing off with his head resting on your shoulder.

His favorite time to nap is arguably right after lunch. Specifically Sunday’s because it’s the one day out of the week where he’s not on patrol, and he gets to spend his whole day with you.

The sunroom is a new addition that he and Tommy built together. There’s a built-in bookshelf along the wall that is brimming with all different genres of books. There’s even some house plants. The main star of the room is the cozy chaise lounge. It’s a bit faded, and has seen better days, but he loves it.

His eyes are already droopy when you move to get up from the spot you were sitting on. He loved it when you would read to him, and today’s book was Wuthering Heights.

“Where you goin’,honeypie?” He rasps, peeking one eye open to look over at you.

You place your hand over his covered knee, squeezing it gently before you lean over and press a soft kiss to his cheek, and then his lips. “Laundry is probably done by now. I’ll be right back, okay?” You brush away a few strands of his soft curls. He’s been growing his hair out lately, and the grays in his beard are more prominent. You’ve never stopped loving this man, and he’s never stopped loving you.

“Hurry back, please. Miss you already.” He murmurs, lips curving into a lazy grin.

He’s a sap. A real softy now that he has no reason to fear. You and Ellie, and this town have turned a lion into a house cat.

“You’re a real softy, Joel Miller.” You whisper and brush away a few stray breadcrumbs from his patchy beard.

“Mhm. ‘S’cus’ of you, lady.” He teases gently.

You peck his lips once more, lulling him to close his eyes. Rest, Joel. You have all the time in the world to sleep. To love. To relax. To live. All the time, my love.

His lashes flutter as he sinks further into the couch, awaiting your return so he can snuggle with you once more.

Taking care of the laundry and tidying up the kitchen takes all of 10 minutes for you to complete. You find yourself thinking about the days when 10 minutes could either mean life or death. 10 minutes used to feel like 10 seconds. To run. To hide. To fight. 10 minutes now felt like 10 hours. 10 years.

You and Joel fought hard for this life of peace and not a day goes by where you don’t feel grateful for it all.

When you return to the sunroom, one of his legs is sticking out from under the quilted blanket, and he’s sprawled out entirely. His skin holds a warm glow from the trickling sunlight coming in through the windows.

He senses your presence even in his light slumber, and his arms subconsciously reach for you.

I’m here. You reassure him as his eyes open, droopy with sleep. He looks scruffy and soft at the same time. A big ole teddy bear; all yours.

Missed you. He murmurs softly as his arms wrap around your middle, pulling you back against his strong chest.

Missed you too, Joel. You melt into his warm embrace. Heartbeats steady, calm and at peace.

Two house cats basking in the sunlight, bellies full, and hearts warm.

Banners made by the lovely @saradika 🤍

I no longer have a taglist so please follow @tightjeansjaviupdates for fic updates and notifications!

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel x you #joel x reader #soft!joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller imagine #joel miller drabble #joel the last of us #joel miller fic #post outbreak joel

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ladykailitha · 3 months

Text

The Harrington Pattern Part 3

Hello! I'm going to be posting this one straight through on Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays until it's done. I've got three more chapters completed after this one. Though there maybe a small hiccup as I might finally be moving cross country. I will keep you posted.

Here we have Steve finishing up the last of the comments and he gets one visitor too many.

Part 1 Part 2

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

Steve was sitting at the table with Mike. He had shown him how to make the tassels and handed him the leather strips to just let him go to town.

He was putting in the metal rings in the armholes of Mike’s tunic for the tassels to be tied to.

After awhile Mike looked up from his work. “What made you get into sewing?”

Steve looked up at him and just stared at him a moment. “I about to say the most rich boy sentence in existence and if you laugh at me, I won’t finish your tunic.”

Mike raised an eyebrow and then scoffed. “Whatever, man. You don’t have to tell me.”

"I got fascinated by it,” Steve explained, “when my mom took me to a tailor to get a suit made for me for my first piano recital when I was eight."

Mike’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?”

“It was so interesting, dude,” Steve insisted. “I was more interested in it then the piano lessons.”

“Wait,” Mike said, “you play piano?” He screwed up his face confusion. “I didn’t know that.”

He shrugged. “I mean, I quit when I got to high school because it was at the same time as basketball and my dad wanted me focus on sports.”

Mike waved his hand at the tunic in Steve’s hand. “Piano wasn’t good enough for your dad, but sewing was?”

Steve barked out a bitter laugh. “There is no way in hell my parents know about this, dude.”

Mike reared back and frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I sew by hand,” Steve explained, “because there is no way in hell my mom would let me use her sewing machine.”

Mike’s frown deepened. “You did all this in secret? What the hell?”

“What would your dad say if you took up sewing?” Steve muttered darkly.

Mike blushed and ducked his head. “Probably that it was girly.”

“And yet the tailor I went to was a man,” Steve pointed out. “So how does sewing make you girly but most tailors are men make sense?” Mike just shrugged because it didn’t. “Also while we on that bullshit, why is a tailor seen as an honorable profession when a seamstress has the connotation of being associated with sex? Like what the fuck?”

Mike’s ears burned as he deeply regretted bringing it up.

“Just finish those tassels, man,” Steve huffed going back to his own work.

Mike did as he was told and bent back over his tassels.

All week long people were coming in and out of Steve’s house so often that Steve was startled by the knock at the door.

He was annoyed. He was literally an inch away from finishing Will’s extension and the interruption was decidedly unwelcome.

To say he was surprised when Officer Callahan was standing there looking as much if not more annoyed than he was would be an understatement.

“Uh...” Steve muttered. “How can I help you, Officer?”

“Hey, Harrington,” Callahan said with a heavy sigh, “it seems your neighbors are complaining that you’ve been having people coming and going all hours of the day and night. They think it’s been pretty suspicious.”

Steve quirked an eyebrow and Callahan huffed out a laugh.

Steve did some heavy thinking to make sure he didn’t have weed out before he said, “Nothing shading going on, I promise, Officer. Just being making costumes for the Ren Fair coming up this weekend and all my friends keep stopping by for last minute fittings.”

Both of Callahan’s eyebrows went up. “What now?”

Steve waved him in. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

Callahan looked around him, but followed Steve into the house with a half shrug.

Steve brought the police officer into the kitchen where he had been working with the aid of the natural light streaming through the big windows. On the table there was Will’s tunic with its inch of ribbon to go. There were bobbins of thread, spools of ribbon, and swaths of fabric literally covering almost every inch of the table.

“I’m just putting on the finishing touches on Will Byers’s costume,” Steve explained. “You remember Will, don’t you?” His smile was just this side of innocent.

Callahan coughed. Because of course he did. Everyone knew who Will Byers was.

“Right,” he said scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I’ll be sure to pass that along. But maybe tell your friends to come during the day?”

Steve smiled brightly. “Oh of course, Officer. This is the last one I’m working on, though. And Will will be stopping by this evening.”

“You sure this is the last one?” Callahan asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

“Oh yes!” Steve said. “The first day of the Fair is on Thursday and we’re going all three days.”

Callahan nodded. “I’ll leave you be then.”

Steve showed him to the front door. Callahan stopped.

“Is this Fair thing any fun?” he asked nervously.

“I’d like to think so,” Steve said with a half shrug. “It’s like the State Fair, so it can get hot and dusty, but there are jousting and sword fights, little plays at night. Things like that.”

Callahan chewed on the bottom of his lip before he nodded curtly. “See ya, later, Harrington.”

“Bye, Officer!”

He slammed the door and went back to finishing the tunic.

Once he was done, he held it up to the light. You couldn’t even tell where the extra inches were. It looked seamless.

He yawned and stretched, feeling please with himself. He looked at his watch. He still had plenty of time before Mrs. Byers brought Will over for the final fitting.

So Steve wandered over to the sofa and laid down. He figured he could a few winks before then and let himself drift off to sleep.

Steve was woken by the sound of someone pounding on the door. He looked out the window, but it was still light out. He sat up and looked at his watch again to see that only an hour had passed.

He got up and before he could even reach the hallway whoever it was started knocking again.

“Hold your horses, man!” Steve yelled.

He threw open the door, annoyed for the second time today. But at least this time it was a far more pleasant a surprise.

“Eddie!” he greeted. “Were we hanging out today?” He didn’t think they had anything on with it being so close to the Ren Fair.

“Nope!” Eddie said with a grin. “A special delivery!”

Steve’s eyes lit up. “Holy shit! They’re ready?”

Eddie pulled out a long thin box and handed it over. Inside were two brown elf ears.

“And they’ll match?”

Eddie tilted his hand back and forth. “As close as we could without the recipient being there.”

Steve hugged him. “Thanks, man. This is going to mean a lot to Lucas.”

Eddie cleared his throat and reluctantly stepped back. “I’ve got band practice, but I wanted to drop these off so Lucas can have them before we go to the Ren Fair.”

“I appreciate it,” Steve said, his cheeks dusted pink. “I’ll see you on Thursday.”

“Yep!” Eddie said, skipping backwards and almost falling off the porch.

Steve jerked forward, but Eddie righted himself before he could fall.

“Bye.” Eddie turned around and practically ran back to his van.

Steve shook his head fondly. He went back inside, but he knew it was useless to try to nap some more. He was wide awake and maybe a little excited, too.

So he went to get make himself some dinner before Joyce and Will arrived.

For the third and final time that night there was a knock on Steve’s front door. At least this time he was ready for it.

He opened the door to reveal Joyce and Will. “Come on in. I just finished it up this afternoon.”

“It’s so sweet of you to do the final alterations,” Joyce said. “It really was a big help to Claudia and me, so we got together and made you brownies as a thank you.”

She shoved the plate in his hands and with her eyes dared him to refuse.

Steve would admit later that he thought about protesting until the smell of warm chocolate hit his nose.

“Oh wow,” he murmured. “They smell delightful.”

Joyce smiled. “Let’s see it then. El has been going on and on about the gold trim on her dress for days and I can’t wait to see Will’s.”

“Sure thing, Mrs. Byers,” Steve said brightly. “Follow me.” He led the way into the kitchen. “Is Nancy and Jonathan going to come to the Fair?”

Joyce and Will shared a glance behind Steve’s back.

“No,” Will said bitterly. “I even told Jonathan that he didn’t have to dress up, but he doesn’t want to go.”

Steve hummed. “Maybe once he sees how much fun you had on Thursday he’ll want to join us for Friday or Saturday.”

Will’s eyes lit up and Joyce smiled fondly at Steve.

“Perhaps,” was all she said.

They reached the kitchen and Will gasped. His tunic was a simple warm brown color but the gold trim just brightened up the whole thing and gave it a rich feel to it.

“Oh Steve, it’s beautiful,” Joyce whispered, giving Steve’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Put it on, Will,” Steve instructed. “It’s going over a shirt and belted so we won’t need to check width, just length.”

Will nodded and pulled it over his head. It fell to the perfect place just over the kneecap so that when Will belted it, it would be above his knee.

“You can’t even tell inches were added,” Joyce said. “Do you like it, Will?”

“Yeah,” he replied with a huge grin. “It’s even better than I imagined. Thanks, Steve!”

He leapt on Steve to give him the biggest hug. Steve staggered back a step but caught the lankly teen and hugged him back just as fiercely.

“I’m glad you like it.”

Joyce playfully swatted her youngest son. “I can’t believe that even with me adding two inches to the hem after we measured still wasn’t enough to counteract your growth spurt!”

Will blushed. “Sorry, mom.”

She just grinned and kissed his cheek.

“Well it looks like we’re all ready to go,” Steve said with a smile. “I can’t wait for Thursday.”

Will smiled back. “Me either!”

****

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #steve is a history nerd

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billybob598 · 9 months

Text

More Than You Know (Leah Williamson x Reader)

All right! So this is a F1 reader x Leah fic requested by anon. Again any feedback good or bad is welcomed! I'm sorry if there's lots of f1 talk and some don't get it. I have another f1 fic coming up but other than that nothing else so, if people want to start sending me requests, please do! I'll get more into that later. Anyways, enjoy!

Word Count: 2.1K (That's what Docs said anyways)

Set at Abu Dhabi GP, end of 2023

Thursday

“Hello everyone, and welcome to the final press conference of the 2023 Formula 1 season.” You fix your shirt as you settle into the seat. Max Verstappen, your teammate, on your left with Charles Leclerc beside him.

“Question for Y/N and Max, heading into the final race of the season the title battle is close between the two of you. What kind of mindset do you have for one of the most important races in your career?”

“To win,” Max says simply. All the reporters let out a laugh as you crack a smile.

“Y/N?” The guy who asked the question prompts you.

“Uh, well, I mean for sure to win is the goal but, trying to just stay calm and do what I’ve done for the last twenty-two races,” you explain. After a few more minutes of questions, they let you go. Walking through the paddock and into the Red Bull garage you can’t help but let your mind spiral. This was your first championship battle, this was Max’s third. You were only 22 years old, if you won on Sunday you’d be the youngest-ever F1 champion and the first-ever female champion. You knew you had to be a little lucky on race day, considering you sat five points behind Max.

Entering your driver room you’re met with your girlfriend, Leah Williamson.

“Hey babe, what are you doing now?” She asks you, watching as you pace back and forth across the room.

“Track walk, I think.”

“Okay, well I’m going to meet up with Alex in a couple of minutes so, I’ll see you later, yeah?” She presses a small kiss on your forehead.

“Okay, yeah, see you later,”

Friday

You loved racing around Yas Marina Circuit, it had just the right amount of technical corners and overtaking opportunities. You loved the lights and going underneath the hotel. Probably the worst part of it though, was the heat. Sitting in your car you feel like you’re going to die from the heat. Sweat just keeps pouring from every pore on your body, making your race suit damp. At the end of Free Practice 2 you were the fastest overall. This gives you a little bit of confidence, your race pace also seemed to be pretty strong so these were all good signs. Leah watches as you take your crash helmet and balaclava off, trying your best to fix your sweaty hair. You looked hot, and Leah was living for it.

“You’re drooling,” Alex, who happened to be right beside her, said. Leah shakes out of her trance enough to give Alex a light slap on the shoulder.

“Whatever mate, if you had a girlfriend as hot as mine you’d be drooling as well.”

A couple of hours later, after all the media was done and the sponsor dinner was finished, you and Leah finally were able to settle into bed. Leah’s arm draped over you and her head nuzzled into your neck. She was just about to doze off when you spoke very quietly into the darkness,

“Would you be mad at me if I didn’t win?” Of course, Leah knew you were nervous, who in their right mind wouldn’t be? But, for you to think that she would be angry with you if you finished second? That was terrible.

“Of course not, love, I’d be sad for you, sure, but mad? Never.” This seems to calm you down a bit, and soon enough you both are sleeping soundly.

Saturday

“Good luck kiss?” Your favourite blonde questions. It was a tradition in your relationship, whenever either of you were participating in a sporting event you had to make sure you kissed just before it started.

“Of course,” you say with a smile, not that she can see it. Your helmet already on with your visor up so she can see your eyes. Leah kisses where she imagines your lips are, you can’t help the dopey smile that comes across your face, the squint of your eyes making it obvious what you’re doing.

Leah watches on as your car pulls out of the garage and onto the track. After making it through both Q1 and Q2 easily now comes the biggest test, the top 10 shootout. Your banker lap for Q3 is solid, only six-hundredths of Max’s time and you know you can improve. As you cross the line to start your second flying lap you feel the adrenaline rush through your veins. Every turn of the steering wheel, every push of the pedals, and every G against your body feels just right. Heading into the final sector you know you’re going faster than your first lap. Crossing the line, your entire body relaxes as you hear your engineer over the radio,

“Okay mate, that’s P1 so far, P1 so far, but Max is yet to cross the line.” You wait anxiously for Max to finish his lap. Leah feels her heart sink as she sees Max’s name move above yours on the timing screen.

“For fuck’s sake, fuck this shit, honestly,” you say over the radio.

“It’s okay Y/N, points come tomorrow,” your engineer replies.

“You’re right, you’re right, let’s get them tomorrow.”

Leah gives you a hug when she finally sees you after all the media and post-qualifying traditions.

“You did great love, don’t be too hard on yourself,” she says sweetly. You sigh, knowing she is right.

“Mhm, I’m not that happy but I’ll get over it. I think right now all I wanna do is go back to the hotel and cuddle with you,” you mutter with a little pout. Leah finds this adorable. So, when you guys do get back to the hotel she cuddles with you until you fall asleep, only hours before one of the most important races of your life.

Sunday

When you wake up you feel the nerves settle inside of you. Leah tried her best to get you to eat something before your race. Abu Dhabi was a night race so, you still had the whole day ahead of you. After going through the pre-race meetings with your engineers you feel pretty confident in the strategy for today. As you walk around the grid with the music in your headphones blasting you see your girlfriend walking towards you. Slipping one side of your ear so you can hear, you give her a questioning look. She never usually comes onto the grid before races, why would she now?

“I just wanted to wish you good luck,” Leah says kindly, “I know you’re nervous, but don’t be, you’re gonna smash it out there.” Your heart melts at her consideration.

“Thanks Lee, I’ll do you proud I swear,” you say, looking at her with what can only be described as heart-eyes.

“You already have, more than you know,” she smiles at you, giving one last kiss on your lips before heading back to the garage.

A couple of minutes later, you’re sitting inside your car mentally preparing yourself for the race. The entire formation lap your mind is blank, trying your best to not overthink. As you park in your grid slot as close to a billion people watch with their breaths held.

“And it’s lights out and away we go for the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix!” Crofty exclaims into his microphone.

You get a good start drawing alongside Max heading into the first corner, but he pushes you wide. As the pair of you continue to the first of two long straights, you follow closely behind him gaining a slipstream. When you enter the braking zone you decide to go for a dive bomb, getting your elbows out a little to barge past your teammate and take the lead.

“She can’t fucking do that, mate. She pushed me off the track,” Max voices to GP.

“If Max has a problem with that, then he can cry in a crib, that was clean.”

As the race gets past halfway done, both you and Max had made pit stops, while also exchanging the lead of the race multiple times. Leah had about chewed her entire nail off watching. She was nervous as hell, she could feel something bad about to happen, she just knew it in her gut.

You once again closed up to the rear end of Max with DRS. As you got close enough to pass you slightly jerked out to the left before cutting back to the right, effectively dummying him. You were on the outside heading into the sweeping left-hander of Turn 9, you tried your best to give him space, but he completely misses the apex and rams into your front wheel/side of your car. Your neck whips to the side as you try to keep control of your car.

“What the fuck was that?! What a fucking idiot, I gave him shitloads of space! Is there any damage on the car?” You are pretty much yelling into the radio. The anger you’re feeling showing through your choice of words.

“So, major front wing damage we are going to have to box. Box, box.” Swearing under your breath you pull into the pit lane for new tyres and a new front wing. Stopping on your marks you sit there for what feels like forever before finally getting the green light and getting back on track. Leah knows you are fuming but she also knows that you’re very good at turning that anger into motivation. She readies herself for a wild end to the race.

“Okay, so the gap to Max is 30 seconds.”

“Just leave me alone, I know what to do,” you say sternly.

For the next 24 laps, you put in of the most impressive comebacks in F1 history. Closing the gap a little bit each lap. You fully catch up to him on the final lap of the race. The entire world sits on the edge of their seat as you stick right up to Max’s gearbox for the majority of the lap. Entering the final sector, you find the gap to stick your nose down. Making an unorthodox move down the inside into Turn 12. When it becomes clear that you stuck the move your side of the garage goes crazy. Leah screams, thinking it is too good to be true. As you head around the final corner, the Red Bull mechanics hang off the side of the fence cheering and yelling as you cross the finish line.

“She’s redefined motorsport as we know it, and as she crosses the line Y/N Y/L/N is CHAMPION OF THE WORLD!” Crofty shouts.

“AAAHHHH OH MY GODDDD! YESSS GUYS COME ON! I’M GONNA FUCKING CRY!” You scream over the radio.

“YOU” VE DONE IT MATE! YOU’VE DONE IT! GOOD LORD!” Your engineer screams back at you. You start to cry as you go around for your celebration lap. When you park in front of the number 1 sign you take a minute inside of your car to collect your thoughts. Finally, you get out and stand on top of the car, raising your arms in celebration. You jump down and start sprinting to your team. After receiving multiple hugs and slaps on the back, mixed with a varying range of screams and yells, you decide to look for your girlfriend. Looking around you spot your favourite person on Earth and make a beeline for her. She pulls you into a bone-crunching hug, tears streaming down her face.

“I’m so fucking proud of you, more than you know,” she says tearfully. You give her an award-winning smile before moving to take your helmet and balaclava off. You surprise Leah when you connect your lips in front of God knows how many cameras.

“I’m a World Champion Lee, a World Champion.”

“I know Y/N, I know,” she giggles at how excited you look. After completing the post-race interview you make your way to the podium.

“And your Abu Dhabi Grand Prix winner and 2023 World Champion, Y/N Y/L/N!”

The crowd and paddock below you roar as you make your way onto the podium, pumping your fists with joy. Stepping onto the top step of the podium, a sense of relief washes over you, everything you’d worked for this entire season, your entire life basically, had finally paid off. You take your cap off when your national anthem plays and begin to scan through the crowd until you meet blue ones. You give her a grin and blow her a kiss. She returns it. When you are finally handed your first-place trophy you raise it high with a little yell. After the rest of the podium is handed their trophies, you get to your favourite part, the champagne. Spraying it in every possible place, you can’t stop the stupid-looking smile from taking over your facial features. When the celebrations seem to die down a little you look over at Leah, mouthing,

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” she mouths back.

“More than you know.”

#leah williamson x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #engwnt x reader #f1 reader x woso

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verinarin · 4 months

Note

Dr ratio with a short! furina reader HCS ?? (Can be male, female or gn. )

I hope it wouldn't be too much to ask😭

Can be smut, fluff, platonic. It's your choice to pick!!!

sorry for the late response I forgot to check my inbox ��ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡

as someone who LOVES Furina this would be a treat to write !!, I’m using Penacony as the background with Robin referenced !

fluff all the wayy (would be open to write a pt2 smut if you want but I’m keeping this fluffy because it’s a long one <3)

After performing with Robin for a special event her brother hosted you resign back to your dressing room, you will never get bored of the bright stage lights illuminating your skin as you sing

But it gets tiring after the performance so you can’t wait to just go home and maybe stop by the dessert parlour you love so much near your apartment

You look at the mirror in front of you as you gently pat your face before a knock can be heard, oh it’s probably Robin wanting to ask you to ear together after a performance like she usually does

You happily walk towards the door, you open the door with a smile to reveal a man towering before you with a ridiculously huge bouquet of rainbow roses; your favourite !

You’re quite shocked to say the least, because they don’t usually let some random fellow wander around backstage with that huge bouquet

The man seemed to notice your mouth agape as you tilted your head up to gaze at him, is comedically funny how far back your head must be to fully see his face

Suddenly the man leans down and rests his arm on the closed door behind you, making it easier for you to look at him

“Good evening, pardon my interruption my name is Veritas Ratio currently working for the IPC as a delegate I’m here to formally congratulate you on your astonishing performance,” his smooth voice lingers on your ear as the bouquet distance you both

You remembered Sunday talked about inviting some members of the IPC to Penacony, so he must be one of those people Sunday talked about

“Ah ! how kind of you please come in,” you smile as you let him in, you usually wouldn’t be doing this to a stranger but this one is Sunday’s guest so you must treat him well

As he let himself in, he quietly looked around at your dressing room. Your vanity is filled with various types of makeup and accessories, not to mention your wardrobe that’s filled with different dresses and suits

You gestured for him to sit on the couch that faced your vanity, he put the bouquet on your vanity before sitting down on the couch, you seat in front of him in your chair before asking the important question you’ve been meaning to ask, “So what brings you here, Mr Ratio ?”

“Well first and foremost as a delegate for the IPC I’m here to foster a good relationship between Penacony and its high-profile residents, but I must admit that I have my reasons,” he smiles, his arms folded together as he awaits your reply

Well, you could see IPC’s intentions but his reasons however, it intrigue you, to say the least, “My my what can I possibly offer you Mr Ratio ?,”

“Please just Veritas should be fine and I was hoping that I’ll be the one who’s offering today,” he chuckles as he looks into your eyes, this mysteriously handsome man is making you flustered in just a simple glance, how unfair !

You quickly snap your mind back from the daydream to answer his offer, “Well what are you offering and for what purpose is this hypothetical offer you’re going to give me ?,”

“A dinner to get to know you better but I heard from a certain someone that you have a sweet tooth so how about a trip to the dessert parlour you like ?, my treat of course,” well someone has done their research

To be honest you were going to nod your head furiously but you need to restrain yourself from excitement, even though it’s quite evident by you playing with your fingers “Well…if I man who done his study on my favourite thing offers than who am I to decline,” your eyes wander around the room, avoiding his warm gaze

“Well then shall we ?,” he smiles as he stands up and hands out his hand, you take the offer and place your hands on his own, he gently brings the back of your hand towards his lips and gently presses a kiss, this turns you into a red strawberry in just 0.11 second !

The walk towards the dessert parlour was delightful, you get to know more about this intriguing man, he’s a scholar and apparently, he has 7 PhD degrees, in normal circumstances you would probably think he was jesting but seeing how he talks and presents himself, you knew he must be the real deal

As you enter the parlour the owner suddenly appears and guides you both to your seat by the window, showcasing Penacony’s breathtaking view. “I hope you like the seat that I chose,” Veritas says as he drags the chair out for you to sit in

“You reserved us a seat ?” you ask dumbfounded by his words, this man had just met you and he’s already treating you like a princess

He chuckles before sitting in front of you, “Of course as a matter of fact I already ordered every single thing for us to try and don’t worry if you can’t finish it all, you can always take it home,”

Your pupils dilate like how a cat would when they’re happy, he finds the sight to be adorable and he’s quite fond of your sweet tooth, “You’re spoiling too much and barely know me,” you huff feeling a little bit upset at him for spending a lot of money on you

“I see it as a worthy investment,” he replies candidly as the waiter pours lavender tea into your cup, oh you’re quite interested in his choice of words

“Hmm investment for what ?” you ask as you trace your finger on the rim of the cup, waiting patiently for his answer

“Let’s just say I’d like to impress you so that we could do this more often, I genuinely want to get to know,” well before this he has already impressed you from the start

“Is this a date this feels like a date,” you tease which he replies with a chuckle of his own “Can’t you tell from the start that I’m enamoured by you ?”

“Oh ?, umm is this a date…?,” you nervously smile while asking, you’re so oblivious to his pursuit that he finds it rather endearing. He reaches forward to brush a strand of your hair back before replying

“Silly girl, can’t you tell that I’m one of your devoted fan ?,”

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #dr ratio #dr. ratio #dr ratio x reader #dr. ratio x reader #dr ratio fluff #dr. ratio fluff

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luchitohamilton · 7 months

Text

lewis being interview by margot laffite for canal+ at the qatar gp '23

I act like a kid all the time. I’m not embarrassed about it; I love having fun. So that’s why, you know, I’m always skydiving, surfing or I’m skiing or I’m riding my bike or whatever might be, that’s me being a kid. And that’s something I refuse to ever let go.

transcript below :-)

So Lewis. I don't want today to talk about the World champion, the Formula 1 driver, I would like to talk about Lewis Carl Davidson Hamilton, if you don’t mind. Can you describe the kind of kid you were at home and at school? What kind of kid were you?

[Smiling] Did you ever had a show called Dennis the Menace?

Oh yes of course.

You did?

Of that kind, yeah. Denis la Malice.

I was like Dennis the Menace 2.0. [laughs] I was climbing trees, I was just always riding my bike down the fastest hill. Naturally super competitive in everything that I did and, uhm, my dad helped me concentrate that energy into racing and that’s where stability came.

We know you were a huge fan of Ayrton Senna, but did you watch like every single F1 race, documentaries about F1?

No, when I was a kid I only watched documentaries on Ayrton Senna, read his books. Anything to do with Ayrton I would have it, whether it was a coffee mug or, not that I drink coffee as a kid, but I was watching Gran Prix from like since I was like 4 with my dad on the weekends. Yeah, Sunday sitting with my dad watching races was one of the best times, I remember.

If you could go back in time, where and when would it be?

It would probably be when I was living with my mum, before I was 8, so, yeah.

You are running the world so, how difficult is it to build friendships?

Yeah, it’s definitely not the easiest I would say. My two closest friends are from school, yeah, they are my brothers. Places where I’ve found good friendships are obviously on my job, and then when I’m doing music, when I’m working with musicians, it’s just like a different realm and there I’ve built some incredible relationships also.

What does being a grown up mean to you? Is it like tiresome to be more conscious of the impact you have on things and people, rather than the pleasant innocence of being a child?

When you play a game with some children, maybe your family, nieces and nephews, do you let them win?

No, I try to win! I just [laughs] and they are good, they are getting good, so I have to get my wins while I can. But, my dad never let me win anything when I was a kid. I think is good to learn how to lose anyways, so [laughs]

Are you always on time or sometimes you’re late?

No, I’m always late. The only time I’m ever on time is when I’m getting in the car to race. But like if I’m going for a flight, I’m always late. I don’t know, I like the limit, yeah. [jokingly] I like getting there around the limit, I like the rush.

What are your thoughts and feelings about Max Verstappen? The man he is, the kind of champion.

He’s done an exceptional job. I think the team has done an amazing job. Collectively they truly deserve the success. Max has been faultless this year, he’s not made any mistakes. I only hope that there’s a time when I’ll be able to put up a fight for him.

When you quit F1 would you still want race like Dakar or the 24 Hours of Le Mans?

I currently don't really have any, like, zero, like, feelings to do those things. I love motorbikes, I’ve always loved Moto GP, still love it today. I have 2 super bikes. I think I probably always just gonna take my bikes out. I won’t compete professionally in anything ever again. It takes 10,000 hours to be, you know, a master of something else. I wanna spend that 10,000 hours on being the best dad or something like that, you know, or running my businesses in the best way I can. Where all my energy and focus will go to. For now, I’ll continue to skydive, I’ll continue to surf, those are probably the, riding the bikes, surfing and skydiving, those are the 3 fun things that I’ll make sure I always do.

Merci Beaucoup, Lewis.

Merci.

It was a pleasure as always. Thank you.

#lewis hamilton #f1 #formula 1 #ayrton senna #qatar gp 2023 #pal archivo #amazing interview tbh

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lovrre · 1 year

Text

Lost and found~ part 1

Crack baby by mitski ♫

Pre-outbreak Joel miller and post-oubreak Joel miller x Fem reader

Prt2 <<here

Word count: 3k

Warnings: cursing, lots of angst, a little fluffy in the beginning, and probably some other stuff.

Summary: you and Joel begin to plan your future together, but there's a secret you're just not ready to tell him yet, you're pregnant. When You and Joel get separated on outbreak day, you see him again after 20 years but now your secret is all grown up.

Author’s note: this part is really the warm up for part two that's going to get more into the relationship between Joel and his new kid and his kids relationship with Ellie. Also I wrote this all to Crack baby by mitski.

Sunday, September 25th, 2003, 12:15 Am, Austin, Texas

You and Joel sat on the couch, you let your legs sprawl over his lap as you two watched TV. You took a bite of the cookie you stole from the fridge and leaned over to give Joel a bite. “Open,” you say, pressing the cookie to his lips. Joel obeys, opening his mouth and taking a bite before returning his attention to the show. “Hmm, where did you get that,” he asks, gesturing for another bite, you smile, bringing the cookie back to his mouth.

“ It was in the fridge,” you say, laughing at the way he took a second bite. Joel goes to turn the channel and you stop him. “No, I like this one!” You say, gesturing to the little ballerinas on screen, practicing their Plié. “ They're so cute… When me and Nia were kids we wanted to be ballerinas and I mean so, so bad. We would buy tutus with our spare money, and we begged our mom every day for about a year to sign us up for classes” you say, finishing up the last piece of the cookie. “ It was that or a hairdresser”

“Did she ever sign you up?” Joel asks you shake your head, moving a bit closer, so you’re sitting on his lap.“nope, but good thing she didn't if I had become a famous ballerina I would be somewhere dancing instead of with you” you say, leaning over and planting a kiss on his lips.

“What I'm not good enough for a ballerina?” Joel asks, looking up at you with a smile on his face, his lips inches away from yours. “ You are for this one,” you say, giving him a small kiss on his lips. When you finish, Joel readjusts himself on the couch slightly but doesn't move you. “When I was younger I wanted to be a singer,” Joel says, turning to you, not a hit of humor on his face. You hold back your laughter “hmm” you say, pressing your lips into a tight smile, desperately trying to keep your composure. “What’s funny?” Joel asks his face bunching up in confusion “nothing”

~~~~~

An hour later

“JOEL, DON’T!” You say, putting your hands over your pizza, “you already had three” he says, trying to grab at it. “Sarah, are you going to let him do this?” you ask, turning to her for help. “Sorry, this is a couple

quarrel, not my business,” she says, walking out of the kitchen. “ JOEL, STOP, YOUR FAT ASS DOSE NOT NEED ANYMORE,” you scream as he comes over to literally wrestles with you over it. “I'm not giving it to you,” you say with a stern tone. “ I ain't asking,” Joel says, trying to take it from you. You pull your arm far behind you where he can't reach. “I’ll cough on it,” you say, holding it up close to your mouth. “Do it” you do exactly what he says, coughing all over the pizza. Before you can do anything, Joel Is kissing you, he takes advantage of your confusion, and he snatches the pizza right out of your hand and begins eating it, Taking large obnoxious bites.

You watch him disgusted. “you’re disgusting, I literally coughed all over that, I hope you get sick,” you say, still staring at him annoyed. “ After all I’ve done with that mouth, you think I care about a little cough,” he says with a smile, leaning against the sink and taking another bite. You roll your eyes, “why are you so nasty…?” you say, making a face as if you had something unpleasant in your mouth. Joel puts down what’s left of the pizza on the counter before walking toward you. “ You made me this way baby,” he says in a very fake thick country accent, that reminded you a bit of Elvis, you laugh, pushing him out of your personal space. “Don’t do that” you laugh, shaking your head in disapproval.

“ What baby, you don’t like this voice on me?” he says, leaning in for a kiss, Still using the funny accent. “ GET AWAY FROM ME,” you say, pushing his face away, trying to run out of his grasp. Joel follows behind, chasing you through the house, You make it to the living room before Joel grabs you, throwing you over his shoulder. “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU” you scream, punching and kicking at his chest. “ Little lady, I gotta get you down to the station,” He says, making his way up the stairs with you over his shoulder. “ You're so weird,” you say, giving up On the fight

You get to the top of the steps and Joel almost trips. You laugh, “c’mon on cowboy, you can do it,” you say, slapping his butt. Joel makes a funny gasping sound and You both break out into silent laughter, trying to be quiet in case Sarah was sleeping. “GOOD NIGHT GUYS!” Sarah yells through her closed bedroom.

“Good night baby girl” Joel replies, still walking to his bedroom, you still over his shoulder. “Good night, Sarah,” you say before Joel opens his bedroom door, kicking it close with his feet once you two are inside.

Sunday, September 25th, 2003

8:32 Am

Joel wakes up in bed, the sun shining through the windows and onto his face. He rolls over, hoping to feel your body next to his, but instead was greeted with the feeling of cold bunched-up sheets. He sits up, rubbing his hand over his face and letting out a sigh. He looks over at the clock. It’s 8:32 he assumed you’ve probably gone home to get ready for work.

Walking down the stairs, he hears laughter coming from the living room. “You’re out!” you yell. Joel turns the corner to see you and Sarah playing what seems to be a makeshift Dance, Dance revolution with arrows made from tape on the floor. “YOU’RE CHEATING OH MY GOD” Sarah yells “no I said left, left, up, down, right, left, you went up twice,” you say, pointing to the arrows as you talk. “ NO, I WENT DOWN!” Sarah says, pointing to the arrow. “Proof?” you ask, a smile spreading across your face,

Sarah pushes you Lightly on Your shoulder and you both laugh, Sarah stops laughing before you, noticing Joel behind you “oh hi dad,” Sarah says. You turn around and see Joel standing in the entranceway with a big smile on his face. “Good morning ”

You walk over to him, leaving a kiss on his cheek before walking to the kitchen. “We made breakfast, well, Sarah made breakfast I made eggs,” you say, pouring a cup of coffee. “That’s probably for the best,” Joel says, sitting down at the table, Sarah rolls her eyes and pulls out a chair, and sits next to him. You made Joel a cup of coffee too, placing it in front of him before sitting down in your chair. “Thanks,” he says before going back to what he was about to say, “You took off from work today?” Joel asks, taking a sip of the coffee you gave him.

“Yeah I wasn’t feeling well, but I work tomorrow, I get off around six, so I’ll stop by, so we can do something” you take a sip of your coffee before continuing. “Tomorrow is the big day, anything particular you want,” you ask smiling into your mug. “This is good, all of us together,” Joel says, smiling at the two of you, his words hang in the air for a second before Sarah speaks. “oh god he’s gone soft,” Sarah says, looking in your direction “I know right? He couldn’t have said cologne or something” you both laughs. Joel rolls his eyes, “remind me not to be honest with you two”.

“Will do” Sarah replies, grabbing her fork to finish her plate from earlier. You hear a dog barking outside, and it reminds you of your own “Oh my god what time is it” you say, jumping up abruptly. Joel looks at his bare arm before remembering his watch is broken. His eyes search for the clock on the wall. “It’s nine o'clock – what’s the issue, I thought you were off today?”

“I am, I have to go home and feed Luna,” you say, walking over to the front door and putting on your shoes. “You can’t stay a little longer,” Sarah asks, making a funny lip pout, “I wish I could honey, but I’ve been here almost a whole two days and totally forgot to ask my neighbor to feed her” Sarah takes a sad bite of eggs. “ I’ll be back tomorrow after you come from school, actually if you call me early enough I’ll drop you off,” you say, finally getting your shoe over your back heel. “ You swear?” Sarah asks, raising an eyebrow,“ I swear” you say, walking back over to kiss her on the head. You stretch over her and leave one on Joel’s as well. “See you, tomorrow babe,” you say before running out the door.

When you’ve been gone a minute, Sarah speaks. “When Are you going to marry her?” Joel damn near choked on his coffee. “What?” Joel asks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’ve been dating for almost two years, you still don’t live together, and you’re not engaged yet. What are you doing ?” Joel goes silent for a second before speaking. “ I don’t know…things seem good how they are, I don’t wanna mess that up,” he says, getting up from the table to make himself a plate of the now-cold French toast. “ You just might do that if you keep waiting, you better hope she wants to wait around a hundred years for a ring”

“ You talk too much,” Joel says, sitting down at the table with his plate. “ I’m just not saying what you want to hear,” Sarah says, taking another bite of eggs. The door opens, and their heads turn, it’s Tommy. “ Y’all have to start locking this door,” Tommy says, jiggling the handle. “ Hi uncle Tommy, me and y/n made breakfast. There should be a little left if you want some,” Sarah says,

“ I just came to pick up my tools from the garage. I’m not staying long—wait, Joel, can you hand me the cookies wrapped in aluminum foil in the back of the fridge with the sticky note” Joel stays silent for a second before answering. “The chocolate ones?” “Yeah,” Tommy replied, already afraid of where this was going. “The cookies?” Joel asked, preparing his apology, already in his head. “Yeah” Tommy replied

“My bad, me and Y/N ate those” Tommy looks at Joel, slightly worried. “Joel those were edibles” Sarah lets out a laugh “that explains it,” she says, trying to finish chewing her food, so she can speak. “They were running through here like a bunch of kids,” Joel thinks for a second before talking, “Tommy, why the hell did you-“Tommy speed walks out of the kitchen to the garage “We’ll talk about this later!” Joel yells, standing up to put his mug in the sink, “we need to take away his key”.

“It’s not like we lock the door,” Sarah laughs, getting up to put her plate in the sink.

~~~

Monday, September 26th, 2003

7:30 am

Sarah balances the phone in the crook of her shoulder while brushing her teeth “hello, y/n, I’m almost ready you can come ”she says, mostly muffled from the toothbrush. “Ok, I’m on my way right now,” you say and hang up the phone. Sarah does the same, placing it on the side of the sink.

You pull up outside Joel’s and debate going inside, the news you got yesterday making you a little unsure. You honk the horn and Joel comes outside, walking towards the car. He looks good, fresh like he just got out of the shower. You roll down the window, ”hey birthday boy, you look good ” you whistle. “Good morning baby,” Joel says with a wide smile, ducking his head through the window to leave a quick kiss on your lips

“Sarah’s almost finished, she's looking for her shoes,” he says, leaning on the car a bit. “ Can I get in, I wanna ask you something,” he says, moving back a bit, “Yeah, yeah of course you say. Unlocking the car door, Joel walks around and jumps in the passenger seat, he smells really good, probably because he used the cologne you got him last year on his birthday. He leans the seat all the way back, the way he likes to do when you too are having long car conversations. “What’s up,” you ask, a little worried for some reason, watching him look up at you for the seat.

“Do you think I would be a good husband,” Joel says plainly. You instantly relax at the question, you shake your head. “No, you’d be a terrible husband…” you say in a serious tone. “Really?” Joel asks, sitting up. You smile, “Ya, you’re way too thoughtful and kind to caring, wayyyy too good of a father, you would be a horrible husband. Joel's body relaxed and he laughs, “What about me, would I be a good wife?” You ask, the weird feeling of worry creeping back slightly. “ No you’d be a horrible wife, you’re wayyy too beautiful, too kind, I’d love you too much,” he says, laying back down in the seat.

His words hang in the air as you two sit in a moment of comfortable silence. “But if I’m being serious, I think you’d be a great wife” you involuntarily smile at his words

“you’re great with Sarah, you’re understanding, we barely fight. It’s good with you”

“Is this a proposal?” You joke, and Joel goes quiet. “ It could be,” he says, all his attention on you. Your heart feels like it drops for a second, “you wanna get married?” You ask, a little surprised. “ I understand if you ar-,” Joel asks, seconds away from stumbling over his words. “— No, no, no, Joel, I want to marry you,” you say, making it very clear you are serious. “ I just didn’t think you were ready yet, I know you’ve been married before, and I didn’t want to rush you”

“ I rushed into my first marriage, I was young and got married for the wrong reasons,” he says, still looking intently at you. “So you want to marry me?” You say again, shock still running through you. “When?” you question, excitement starting to enter your body. “Whenever, unless you want a big wedding,” Joel asks. “ I don’t have much family you know it’s only me and Nia, most of the seats would be empty,” you say, letting out a dry laugh.

“ Ok then it can be small, sometime this week, maybe this month,” Joel says, without a hint of humor, in his voice. “ Oh my god, you really want to marry me” you laugh, your smile hurting your cheeks. “Yes I do, Y/N” Joel replied, a smile creeping up on his lips. “ Only you would propose like this,” you say, shaking your head. “I wanted to do something romantic, I did, but it just kept me up all night, I was starting to get so Damn impatient I almost called you up Twice last night and proposed right then”. You laugh at his cuteness. “ Well my answer is yes,” you say, leaning over leaving a small sensual kiss on his lips.

The back car door opens, and you both look back to see Tommy plopping down on the seat. “ Oh, Tommy's here…” you say unenthusiastically. “Sarah's still looking for them damn shoes - am I interrupting something?” Tommy asks, looking between the two of you. “I proposed,” Joel said, looking back a Tommy, “you’re fucking with me” you shake your head and Tommy instantly lights up. “CONGRATS BROTHER, I DIDIN’T THINK YOU HAD I’T IN YOU,” he says, patting Joel on the back. “I thought it be a lifetime before he snagged you up,” Tommy says looking at you, “me too,” you say, smiling.

Joel doesn’t say anything else, taking a big gulp of the coffee that was in your cup holder.

“ If we’re being honest, I should be the one getting married, I mean I did know you first, the better Miller brother is right here if you change your Mind,” Tommy says jokingly a hint a truth behind his words. You did know him first an Tommy did have a brief thing for you years ago. “Nah… Tommy I don’t think you’d look good in the dress,” you say, trying very hard not to laugh. “I think he’d look more like a male-order bride,” Joel says, looking at you while putting back down your coffee, “emphasis on the male” you joke as soon as the words leave your lips, and you break out into laughter. “I changed my mind, you two are perfect for each other,” Tommy says, unamused before opening the car door and getting out. “Please Ask Sarah to hurry up, we’re late” you yell at Tommy right before he closes the door behind him.

You watch Sarah run out of the house seconds later, you lean In kissing Joel goodbye. “Love you, see you later,” you say as he gets out of the car. “ love you too,” he replies, ducking his head back into the open window for another kiss. “shit, I almost forgot… I have something to tell you” you shake your head, your courage instantly fleeting “never mind I’ll tell you tonight”.

“ Ok see ya, baby,” Joel says, hitting the car before walking back to the house. Sarah gives her dad a wave before jumping into the passenger seat. “ Girl, what took you so long?” You say, starting the car back up “I couldn’t find my shoes anywhere and when I did, they were in the wash, I tried to blow-dry them, but they're still wet” Sarah says, struggling with her seatbelt. You think for a second before answering. “Look in the back I should have some converses or something back there, I think we’re around the same size.

Sarah climbs over the seat and searches under the passenger side chair. “Found them,” she says before pulling out a pair of shoes and throwing them on. After she’s finished tying them, she climbs back over the seat, putting on her seatbelt.

“ I’m going to fix dad’s watch for his birthday,” Sarah tells you, looking at the passing cars. “ With who's money?” you asked confused, “his” Sarah replies, still looking at the cars. “ How are you going to gift someone something they paid for” Sarah shrugs. “You could have asked me,”

You say quickly looking over at her. “ But it's funnier if he paid for it,” you think for a second before answering. “ It is”

“What did you get him for his birthday” Sarah asks turning to you. you go silent at the realization that the real “gift” was growing inside you. “ It’s a secret” you say kee you eyes on the road

~~~

You drop Sarah off at school and hand her five dollars for lunch. “bring me back one of those muffins from the cafeteria” you yell as she walks towards the school entrance. “Chocolate?” she yells, turning around to walk backward, so she faces you. “Yeah” you reply and she turns around. You watch to make sure she enters the school before driving off.

You get into work late and your manager forces you to work a double. You spend your whole day thinking about what your wedding with Joel would be like. After work, you stopped at home to change into some cuter clothes before going to Joel's house. The News anchor was still going on about a virus, the Same stuff He’d been talking about all day. You lay down for what feels like a second, just trying to relax, the News anchor’s voice slowly fading into the background.

~~~~

Tuesday, September 27th, 2003

2:30 Am

You wake up to the annoying ringing of your phone, your eyes flutter open, and you jump up at the realization that you fell asleep. Your eyes land on your clock on the bedside table that reads 2:30. “Shit, shit, shit” you repeat, frantically searching for your ringing phone under your pillow and on the nightstand, You had slept through Joel's birthday and missed the perfect time to tell him. Frustrated you make your way to the floor to look for your phone. You found it between the nightstand and your bed. Finally, answer the phone.

“Hello?” You say, slightly out of breath.

“Y/N?” Sarah asks, worry coating her voice. “ yeah- you alright sweetheart, you sound scared” you reply, standing up from the floor and sitting on the bed. “Yeah, I woke up and Dad wasn’t here, I was wondering if he was with you, all the channels were off on the TV and I keep hearing helicopters ”. She says, her voice still sounding shaky “No, he’s not, but I can call him, Do you need me to come over?” You ask, already walking towards your bedroom door.

“Can you?” She whispers, you leave your bedroom and walk towards your front door, putting on your shoes. “Yeah, of course, I'm on my way right now, stay in the house and lock the doors”. You say, walking back to your bedroom to get your purse.

“Ok, see you soon” and with that, you hang up the phone and dial Joel’s number, but You only get his voicemail. “ You have reached the voice mail of… “Joel Miller”, please leave a message at the tone”.

“ Hey, baby it's Y/N sorry I couldn't make it tonight. I accidentally passed out as soon as I got home, Sarah just called me looking for you, she sounded really worried so I'm on my way to your house right now, please call me back when you get a chance.”

Tuesday, September 27th, 2003

3:25 Am

“Hello?” You called out, opening the unlocked door, the house is completely empty. You walk halfway up the stairs and called out again. “ Sarah?” No response, so you walk up the stairs, “Joel?” still no response. You Open Sarah's bedroom Door and are greeted by more nothing, you walk further in the room and a muffin on her table next to a birthday card for Joel catches your attention, It's not chocolate, but you can tell it's from Sarah's school, likely the one you asked her for yesterday.

You walk out of her bedroom and into Joel’s, the windows are open, letting in the moonlight. You walk closer to the window, the cold air and the sound of sirens coming through, you could see the whole town up there. Your phone rings in your pocket, and you quickly fumble to answer. “ Y/N?” your body relaxes at the sound of his voice. “Joel?”

“Y/N were all ok, The highways packed were driving past the old movie theater,” Joel says, spitting out his words a mile a minute. Looking out the window, you can see a plane flying very low over the builds near the plaza where the old theater should be. “Joel… where are you again?” you say, fear racing through your body at the thought. “JOEL” He doesn't answer, and your heart starts beating harder in your chest, “JOEL WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU” you scream “where almost out of the plaza meet us about a mile down keep your pho-”

“JOEL! ” you scream, watching the plane seconds away from crashing into town. “SHIT, TOMMY MOVE MOVE MOV-” Joel yells from the other side of the phone, all you hear is a crash as the line goes silent.

“JOEL JOEL! ” you scream, tears running down your face. The silence feels like it’s surrounding you, the last seconds of the call reply in your ear like a recording. You stand completely still staring out the window for what felt like hours in disbelief at what you just saw and heard. When You finally get the courage to move, a blue velvet box catches your eye. It sticks out like a sore thumb on Joel’s messy dresser, A part of You already knew what it was, but your brain told you that you needed to open it. Even though if it was what you thought it was, it would make everything real. You slowly opened the box, your heart beating louder in your ears with each passing second.

It’s an engagement ring, the perfect engagement ring, your engagement ring from Joel. Tears in your eyes, you examine the ring band, on the inside, there’s writing “My Ballerina” Suddenly everything hits you, You let out the most blood cuddling sub as you fall to your knees holding on to the ring box.

Thursday, December 18th,2023

2:12 pm, Jackson, Wyoming

20 years later

Rae bends down, grabbing her book bag off the floor and rummaging through it frantically on the bed. Her best friend sits on a chair in the corner of the room, bouncing a ball off the wall and into his hand. “ What the hell are you looking for,” August says, continuing to bounce the ball off the wall. “My mom wants that damn picture of my dad, I think I put it in my bag somewhere,” Rae says, dumping the contents of the bag out on the bed. “Does she not have another picture?” August asks confused.

“ Yeah somewhere, but she gets in a way about this picture, I rather find it, I don’t feel like hearing her mouth right now,” Rae says picking through all the stuff on the bed. “I mean, does your mom even yell… I’ve never heard her raise her voice” August says, no longer playing with the ball, his attention on Rae’s frantic movements. “ Oh she yells,” Rae says, walking to the closet to look through her coat pocket, she rummages for a second. “Found it,” Rae says, taking the picture out of her coat pocket to examine it before putting it back and sliding on her coat. “Is your mom cooking tonight?” August asks, putting back on his jacket that was laying on your bed. “ probably not, she's in one of her moods today. I'm starting to worry again, she’s so stuck in the Damn past, all she does is talk about him” Rae says, zipping up her coat.

“Your Dad?” August asks, zipping up his jacket, “yeah, I know she loved him, but it's been twenty years now, she has to move on eventually. But in her defense it’s been a lot recently, Tommy coming here, finding out he’s alive and then finding out my dad’s alive… That just made it worse, I hate to say it, but I think it was better when she thought he was dead” Rae says, walking out of the room down the steps, August follows close behind. “ So if I died today, you would stop caring 20 years from now?” August asks, a cocky smile on his face. “ I love that, that's what you gathered from that….” Rae says, continuing down the stairs. “So…would you?” “Most likely” Rae states plainly

“ Wow, and to think I was gonna make you the godmother of my future children,” August says sarcastically, shaking his head side to side. “I wouldn't want to be the godmother of your ugly ass kids anyway,” Rae says, walking into the living room.” Why do my kids have to be ugly?” August asked, slightly offended. “ Because anyone willing to lay with your ass has to be hideous” August doesn’t say anything, just looks at her slightly annoyed.

You’re sitting on the couch in the living room drinking Tea watching Rae and August bicker in the entryway, Rae shoves August before walking over and plopping down next to you. “ I found it,” Rae says, pulling a picture of Joel out of her pocket and handing it to you. “Thank you, baby,” you say, taking a good look at it before putting it down on the coffee table. “Where are you going?” you ask, gesturing to Rae's big coat. “Me and August are going to the dining hall, you want anything?” Rae asks, sitting up from the couch,“ actually, I think I'll go. I should probably get out of the house”. You saying standing up “thank god” Rae whispers under her breath. “What was that?” you ask raising a brow. ”nothing” Rae replies giving you a tightlipped smile.

~~~

You’re in line with Rae getting food, she stays quiet for a while, taking time to think about what she would say. “I was thinking Me, you, and August go hunting tomorrow look for some deer,” Rae says, walking down the line with you. There’s a bit of silence as you consider your reply, “I don't know Depends on how I'm feeling-you want some corn” You ask, holding the spoon towards her plate, “I’m good-mom do you seriously intend to stay in That house doing nothing forever” Rae asks moving farther down the line. “Yes,” you say, letting out a dry laugh

“ Mom, It's not funny,” Rae says, her tone turning serious, stopping completely, so you both are entirely still in line. “I'm starting to worry…nowadays, you don't do anything but mope, It's affecting your health, It's Affecting me it's Affect-” You cut her off “-I hear you, I hear, ok I'll go hunting,” you say knowing that there's not one bone in your body that desires to do that. “ I promise I'll be ok, you'll be ok and my health will be ok” you laugh. “ See, that’s my moma,” Rae says, a smile spreading across her face as she looks at the smile on your own. Your heart warms at the words, and you think to yourself, maybe it might be easier to try to move on for everyone else.

You two walk a little farther down the line, just inches away from the end. “You’re not gonna eat that,” you chuckle, watching Rae pile a heap of diced potatoes on the corner of her plate. “I am,” Rae says matter-of-factly, “ we’ll see” you reply unconvinced.” “Yes, we will see” Rae replies, getting ready to walk to the table, you stop her, placing your hand on her shoulder “wait-can you take my plate I want to see if they have any cups,” you say, handing Rae your plate.

“Sure,” She says, taking the plate and walking towards the table before stopping dead in her tracks, completely frozen in shock, your back facing her you don’t realize, and keeping searching for the cups. “I don’t see any over here, do you know where the extras are?” You ask, but there’s no answer. You stand on your tippy-toes looking over the counter for the cups “Rae?” you call out, but There's Still no reply “Girl I’m talking to you-” You say, turning around to scold Rae but are instantly stunned. Your eyes land on Joel Miller, after 20 years of life without him, you think you must be hallucinating, but you don't wipe your eyes or shake your head in fear that he might disappear. He looks the same but so different at the same time, he’s aged so much since you last time you saw him.

Only a couple of feet separate you two, but it feels like he's miles away. You wanna talk, you want to say something, but your mouth feels dry. Your heart thumps heavily. In Your chest, you can feel every thump and jerk in your body. Suddenly, your legs feel weak like your body is forgetting how to stand. “Joel?” you finally speak, you move a step forward and suddenly grow very dizzy. Before you can do anything to stop it everything goes black.

“ Y/N-” Joel looks like he’s going to rush you to your side, but debates it. Instead watching Rae curiously as she runs up and helps you. She lightly shakes you, gently slapping your face “Mom?” you don't answer, and she puts a finger under your nose to see if you’re breathing. “ She's breathing” Rae says letting out a sigh, relief. “TOMMY CAN YOU HELP ME!” Rae yells, and He comes out of thin air. Ellie comes up from the side of Joel, “ You know her ?” Ellie asks, confused, looking down at the scene. Joel doesn't say anything, the world going quiet around him as he watches Rae With curiosity. Her hair was braided in two French braids, but he could tell it was curly, like Sarahs but also like yours. she had a small button nose like you, but her eyes reminded him of his own. The possibility swarmed through his mind as he watched her.

“ ARE YOU GONNA HELP?” Rae yells at Joel, making him instantly snaps out of it, quickly bending down to help her pick you up. ”Bring her this way!” Tommy yells as Rae and Joel carry you. Tommy leads you guys to an empty house next door, where they place you on the couch. “ Tommy can you get a wet rag please,” Rae says, bending down to move your hair out your face. “ How often does this happen,” Joel says, looking down at you. “Too often,” Rae says, pulling off your shoes and placing them on the floor. “ Is something wrong with her?” Joel asks, worry bubbling in his gut. “We don’t know-thanks” Rae answers, taking the rag from Tommy and placing it on your head.

Joel watches Rae's every move, the resemblance is uncanny. He wonders if it’s just his old mind playing tricks on him, making him see similarities that aren’t really there. “ How old are you?,” Joel asks this question would confirm or deny his beliefs. “ Seventeen” Rae replies, not looking up from you. A part of Joel hopped for a different answer, Tommy looks at Rae confused. She says nothing, giving Tommy a look that tells him to shut up.

“Can you watch her?” Rae asks, looking at Joel “yeah I-” she cuts him off

“-Good, Tommy can I speak to you for a second?” Rae asks, gesturing for Tommy to come with Her into the room down the hall. Rae hurries him into the room, closing the door and lowering her voice before speaking “what the fuck is going on” Rae asks confusion and anger lacing her voice.

Tommy looks like he’s about to speak, but he doesn’t say anything. “ First it was he died with you when the plane crashed, it was hard, but after a while, mom accepted that. But then…you came here, we find out you and him survived minus Sarah ok… she was hurt but still had hope of seeing Him, then you tell her that he’s not coming here for some reason, Now he's here?” Rae says, her words coming out a mile a minute. “ Look I found out around the same time you did, I only found out earlier today. I had no idea he was coming,” Tommy says, trying to calm down your upcoming tangent.

~~~~

Nervous to get close, Joel watches your breath rise and fall from the corner of the room. Your eyes flutter open after a while, and You look around confused, taking the wet rag off your head. Your eyes land on Joel in the corner of the room, and you quickly sit up. You both don’t say anything, waiting for the other to go first. “Hi” you speak first, your voice barely above a whisper. “Hi,” Joel says, awkwardly, walking slightly closer, you really missed the sound of his voice. Your eyes start to blur, your feelings start to overwhelm your body. “I missed you so much” you sob, holding out your arms. Joel is beside you in a second, your arms around him in an embrace, you don't say anything else, crying into his shoulder, at the same time, taking in the smell of him that you missed so much.

“I know, I know” You hear Joel whisper, letting out quite a sob into your shirt. When you finally have the strength to pry yourself from the corner of Joel's shoulder, you look up at him with tear-filled eyes. He looks back at you with the same, you kiss him, savoring the feeling of his lips against yours. Something in the back of your head wondered if maybe he had a wife now or a kid, and you were overstepping by kissing him. But you didn't care, you didn’t care about the repercussions, only that you were with him at this moment.

~~~~

“What about the radio you told me about, he didn’t tell you he was coming on there?” Rae asks, trying to make sense of the situation. Tommy sighs, wiping his face with his hands. “ You know the rules Rae” Rae’s whole demeanor, changes at his word.“Tommy are you fucking kidding me… You didn't tell him I exist, or that my mom was alive because MARIA TOLD YOU TO STAY OFF THE FUCKING RADIO?” Rae says her vision starting to blur. She quickly calms herself down, wiping away the tears that were trying to form from anger. “Do you know how Fucking hard it’s been these last couple of months, MY MOTHER IS A SHELL OF HERSELF TOMMY, she spends every minute of the day thinking about the past, do you know how long it took her to finally accept that you guys were all dead? Just to find out that you’re not dead, but she can't see Joel again”.

Tommy doesn’t say anything, your words making him rethink his previous decisions. “Some fucking uncle you are” Rae mumbles before walking out of the room, leaving Tommy alone with his thoughts.

#joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal #black reader #pedro pascal x black reader #joel the last of us #joel x black reader #joel x y/n #joel miller x fem black reader #joel x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x y/n #the last of us #joel miller

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itsyassbitch · 9 months

Text

✈︎A plus one✈︎ Chapter I

Chapter II

Summary: Bradley has always been the single friend of all of his friend groups. However he’s tired of everyone trying to set him up with random women until one day he asks you to be his plus one to his friends marriage so they stop bothering him about getting a girl. What happens when you both start liking this lie you’ve been telling people? Warnings: None at the moment; probably smut, alcohol consumption, a little bit of angst, cursing, ...

Chapter one

Bradley has always considered himself as a lonely wolf, he’s never liked a woman enough to make it official. Besides, being a Naval aviator never helped his issues. Since he was aways on deployment, he didn’t really had time to find a good woman and settle in. As a result, this last decade has been more complicated to him than ever, with practically all his friends getting married, people constantly asked him why he was still single and even tried to set him up with some random women.

That’s how he finds himself in this situation, trying to convince one of his teammates to accompany him to his friend’s wedding. He was so sick of people trying to set him up that he told Thomas that he was having a plus one so they would stop embarrassing him. The problem is that he was as single as ever and the only people he used to socialize with were his coworkers.

He had thought about asking Natasha to be his plus one, but he knew that things would be so awkward, so he didn’t even try talking to her. Then, he wasn’t as close to Halo to ask her something like this. But at that moment he thought about you: You were good friends; you were funny and very pretty too. He could make more than one jealous by attending it with you.

Nevertheless, you weren’t fond of the idea and asked him “Why wouldn’t you just bring a real date to this wedding?” and he answered like it was obvious “Because I told him months ago about the plus one, so if I bring someone, she’ll have to know me quite well”. “Just take Hangman then, he knows you very well, biblically and all”, she said with a smirk on. “Stop teasing Viper, if I take Jake, he’ll only brag about the fact that he gets more chicks than I do… not to say that they know I don’t like guys. Come on, please say yes” he says with puppy dog eyes. “What’s in that for me?” you ask rolling your eyes. “Literally anything you want, I’ll do whatever you tell me for a week!”, “A month” you say trying to negotiate. “Two weeks” he says, “Deal!”

And that is how you found yourself caught up in this situation. Bradley told you that it would be a whole week in Hawaii with the bachelor / bachelorette party Wednesday, the venue would be Saturday along with the brunch on Sunday, so you’d have to fly Sunday night and be back the next Sunday after brunch.

Accordingly, you packed some beach clothes, swimsuits, your wedding and brunch outfits and some clothes more revealing for the bachelorette party or if you had another night out.

When you were done getting ready to go, you received a message from Bradley:

Chicken🐔: I’m outside, do you want some help with your bags?

Me: Nah I’m good, I only have my bag and a suitcase, and it isn’t that heavy. I’m already coming out.

Chicken🐔: Alright, no problem.

Once you leave your house you see his blue Bronco parked at your from porch while he gets out of the car to help you put your suitcase in the trunk. He’s wearing black sport shorts, a grey Nike hoodie and black vans along with his aviators while you are wearing low waisted grey sweatpants, a navy-blue baby tee, new balance shoes and your own sunglasses.

“Hey fake boyfriend, how are you doing baby?” you say mocking him. “Hello sweetheart, you love pretty today” he says carrying on with you little game. “Oh, shut up” you say with a desperate smile while getting in the car.

“So, how is this whole thing going to work? I mean, have you made up some back stories yet?” You say while he drives the car to the airport. “No, I haven’t yet, thought it would be better to do it with since you’ll have to remember all that bullshit too” “Yeah, you’re not totally wrong. Let’s start with simple things like how we met.” “Maybe we won’t have to lie about this one, we can say that we met on base when we were deployed together…” “Half-truths, I like that” you say with a little grin.

By the time you got to the airport, you had an acceptable story to tell people about your fake couple so they wouldn’t find it suspicious. As you waited for your flight departure, you and Bradley had lunch because you didn’t have time to eat at home, it was nothing much, just a sandwich because you knew you were going to eat during you flight too. Before boarding you made sure to take yourself a green juice and a beer for Rooster.

The flight was quite long to Hawaii, around six hours, so you made sure to take a book you wanted to finish but didn’t have time because of. Rooster only had his phone and his headphones, so you only talked occasionally.

Halfway through the flight, the lights were turned off so you decided instead of continuing reading your book you’d just watch the episodes of Vampire Diaries you’ve downloaded on Netflix, and you asked Bradley if he would like to watch it with you. At first, he was really into the story but then you noticed that he was falling asleep, but you didn’t say anything because you both had a rough day at work. At some point, he laid his head on your shoulder and was caught by surprise, you didn’t say anything and let him rest there.

About an hour later, the flight attendants started giving passengers their meals and drinks until one came to you and asked, “Excuse me ma’am, would your boyfriend like to eat something?” “Oh no, he’s not my… um actually yes, you can just give it to me, and I’ll wake him up” you answered with a smile, trying to get used to call Bradley your boyfriend. “Alright, what will you take then? We have fish, chicken, and a vegan option if you’d like” she said a little lower, to not wake him up. “One fish and one chicken please” “no problem, would you like to drink something?” “Two cokes please”.

“There you go” she said, making everything fit on your table while trying to not bump into him “Thank you!” You said when she started moving to another passenger and she just smiled at you.

“Roos… wake up, dinner’s here” you called as calmly as possible “what? What happened?” he asked, still half asleep. “The food’s here and it would be a shame to eat it cold. I took you a coke too” “Oh, thanks. You didn’t have to” “Don’t worry about it” you smiled; he looked like a puppy sleepy. “How long did I sleep?” He asked taking his food to his own table “Not very long, an hour maybe.” “Thanks for letting me sleep. What happened between Elena and Damon while I was asleep?” He said a bit embarrassed about the situation. “My my, Bradley Bradshaw was actually enjoying Vampire Diaries, who would have thought” you exclaimed. “Hey, it’s not my thing but it’s not either” he argues. “Whatever helps you sleep at night Bradshaw” you laughed while eating your meal.

When you arrived in Hawaii it was already one in the morning so Rooster decided it was better to take a cab to the hotel and explained that he would rent a car the next day. You didn’t argue with him, you were exhausted and only wanted to take a shower and sleep. As soon as you got to the hotel his friends were at Bradley told you could sit, he would take care of everything, and you thanked him while he walked away to the reception desk to check in. “Hello, how can I help you?” The receptionist questioned “Hi, I have a reservation under Bradshaw” “Oh yes, let me just check very quickly” she answered while typing on the keyboard. “Here you are! So, it was a suite with a Queen bed for a week. Is that right?” “There must be a problem, I reserved a room with two beds” “I’m apologize for our, there must have been a misunderstanding during the call. Unfortunately, all the rooms with double bedding have been booked. Would like me to add another single bed bedroom?” “Can you just wait a second? I must talk with my friend about it” “Yes, no problem. Sorry again” she him an upside-down smile while he returned next to you. “Hey, what’s up? Somethings wrong? “Yeah um, there’s a problem with the reservation? For the love of God Rooster, don’t tell me you booked in the wrong!” You started to panic because of how exhausted you are. “No, no, it’s nothing like that. They’ve accidentally booked our room with one single bed, so I wanted to ask you what you’d like to do. Maybe I can take another bedroom for you. I’ll let you take the room tonight and I’ll just find something for me”. “Oh, come on Rooster, you know how much it costs for a last-minute booking? Probably twice the price it would normally… I mean, we’re not kids anymore, I have no problem in sharing a room with you.” You say, relieved, that it’s not a big issue. “So, I just keep the reservation as it is?” “Yeah, plus it would be weird to your friends if we were a couple and didn’t sleep in the same hotel, right?” “Yes, you’re right! I’ll be right back then”.

You see Bradley talking to the receptionist but you’re too tired to even pay attention to what they’re saying so you just wait until he comes back to you and take your suitcase, leading you to the elevator. When you get to the room, you’re the first one to go inside and it is simply enormous. It has the classic Hawaiian aesthetic, but you think it looks so good. When you first enter, there is a sort of living room with a small kitchen in it, a double door that leads to the bedroom and a simple one to the bathroom.

“Hey, look, there’s a couch in here. I’ll leave you the bed and I can sleep here” he says, looking at the small couch in the living room “You’re not serious, are you? Have you seen your size and this couch? You’d never be comfortable in that. I’ll take it”. “I’m not going to let you sleep on the couch, I’m already thankful that you accepted coming with me, you deserve at least to have the bed…” “I’m tired and I don’t have time for this so let’s just share the bed, ok?” You say, opening your suitcase to take your pajamas. “Are you sure?” “Absolutely!” You reply entering the bathroom to take a shower. “Sharing it is then” he mutters while sitting on the bed.

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I know it's a little short but I'm still getting used to all the writing, hope you enjoy it and please don't hesitate to tell me things I could change/improve xoxo <3

#miles teller x reader #miles teller #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster top gun #rooster x you #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw x female reader

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daisynik7 · 1 year

Text

Rush

Chapter 8: Do I Wanna Know?

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

cw: cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, spitting, daddy kink, vaginal sex (mating press), heavy on the angst this chapter

Summary: After the events of Halloween, you finally start questioning your relationship with Eren. Meanwhile, he attempts to do some damage control to keep both you and his reputation in check, ultimately resulting in more damage.

Notes: Song is "Do I Wanna Know" by the Arctic Monkeys

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The Sunday night after Halloween, Alpha Tau gathers upstairs in the fraternity house for their weekly chapter meeting. Tonight, Levi makes a particularly interesting announcement.

“In about two weeks, Alpha Tau will be hosting its annual fall formal. For you pledges that aren’t familiar with this yet, formal is a special event that happens each semester. It’s essentially a dance. There will be a DJ, dancefloor, photo booth. In addition, dinner will be provided. Luckily, because of our clean record so far this semester, thanks to our partnership with Sigma Nu Kappa, the Student Affairs Committee has approved us having an overnight formal. Meaning we will be renting out a hotel for the night.”

Most of the seniors cheer loudly at the last part, especially Mike. Eren clenches his fist, the memory of the other night still fresh in his mind. He can’t stand the guy, especially knowing he had his fingers in that beautiful body he’s made claim to. He’s not one to be possessive, but with her, he can’t help it.

Levi continues. “The cost of formal is already included in your membership fees, so I highly encourage every brother to attend. Also, each of you is allowed one guest. This can be anyone: a friend, girlfriend, boyfriend, whoever. If you plan to bring a date, make sure you get their signature on the sign-up form. I’ll be handing these out at the end of chapter. Please get these to me by next Sunday.”

Reiner turns around to face Eren. “Got a girl in mind you want to ask?”

He shrugs. “Not really.”

It’s a bold face lie. As soon as Levi mentioned a guest, he immediately thought of her. Her all glammed up in a gorgeous dress, them grinding against each other on the dancefloor, making love in their hotel room when the night is over.

He allows himself to fantasize about it for a minute before coming back to reality.

As much as he’d like to ask her to be his date, he can’t. As easy as it would be to just be with her, he won’t. He justifies it to “not being ready”. Asking her to be his date is another level of commitment that he’s not willing to step into yet. He needs time. This is what he’s convinced himself of.

The more time he spends with her, he finds himself forgetting why this relationship has to be so goddamn difficult. It’s on him; he knows that. His reasons are selfish and immature. Not being ready for commitment. Caring too much about his reputation, which isn’t all that great anyways. It’s all bullshit excuses at the end of the day.

Eren doesn’t want to fall in love. He’s afraid. Afraid of being vulnerable, afraid of getting hurt. Being in love complicates everything. He enjoys being free, unshackled, able to do what he pleases. Responsible only for himself and nobody else. Allowed to fuck up as many times as he can without repercussions. Because he will fuck up. He’s young, dumb, and selfish. Why burden anyone with his flaws?

But when he’s with her, he’s happy. In a way, he still feels free. Weightless, liberated, unbound. As if a whole new world has been opened up to him, as cliché as that sounds. She makes him feel worthy, makes him feel loved.

And that’s what scares him the most.

It’s not love. How can it be? Aside from the amazing sex, what do they really know about each other? Eren has done his best to avoid revealing anything about himself. She’s kept a similar guard, probably just as afraid as he is.

It’s lust. That’s all it is. That’s what he keeps telling himself.

He wishes he had met her in a different time in his life. Maybe after he’s gotten all this dumb, frat boy energy out of his system. It would be easier for them. It would be different. Better.

He knows what he needs to do eventually. He has to end it with her before it gets too serious. Their time together on Halloween night felt different. He exposed himself, revealed a little too much of his feelings.

She’ll never leave him; he’ll string her along until the time is right. He’ll continue to drag this out as much as he possibly can. Continue telling her what she wants to hear, getting away with his sins until he decides it’s time to move on.

He’s got it all under his control.

“You should bring that girl Pieck,” Reiner suggests, snapping Eren out of his thoughts. “Bertolt is thinking about asking another Delta Mu also.”

Eren shrugs again, unsure how else to respond. His big brother turns back around to face the front as Erwin makes his closing statements, ending chapter.

On the way out of the meeting, Armin nudges him. “Who are you really thinking of taking to formal?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just because Reiner is telling you who to bring, doesn’t mean you have to take them. Isn’t there anyone else you’d like to ask?”

He doesn’t answer right away, tempted to be honest with his best friend. However, Eren is still a coward that won’t admit to anything that shows off a sign of weakness.

“I think I will ask Pieck. I hung out with her on Halloween. She’s cool.” Wanting to take the focus off him, he asks, “Who are you going to take?”

“I’m going to ask Annie,” Armin states confidently.

“Annie? Really?”

“Yes, I like her. We have fun together,” he explains, smiling.

Eren can’t help being envious at how easy it is for Armin to confess his feelings. Again, he questions himself why he’s making his own relationship more difficult than it needs to be.

On their way to their dormitory, Eren gets a text message:

Mikasa is sleeping over at Jean’s tonight.

Without a second thought, Eren lies to his roommate. “I’m going to the library for a couple of hours. I forgot I have a paper due in a few days for Pyxis.”

“Oh, okay. Good luck. I’ll see you later.”

Eren turns to the direction of the library until he’s out of Armin’s line of sight. A few minutes later, he’s outside another familiar dorm building. There’s a mixture of excitement and anxiety as he waits for her to come down. They haven’t talked since that night. He abandoned her when they were caught by Hitch and Annie. In that moment, he panicked. Instead of explaining himself like any normal, mature person would, he fled the scene, hoping she would be able to fix whatever mess they created.

She’s in sweats when she opens the door, motioning him to come in. Even in this outfit, his heart flutters at the sight of her.

“Hey,” he greets her, a small grin on his lips.

“Hi.” She returns his smile with her own. Warm and bright as ever.

It would be so easy. So easy to be together, Eren repeats in his head, as he follows her upstairs.

~~~

Up in your room, as soon as the door is closed, he steps towards you with both hands on your cheeks, kissing you passionately. Your lips smack together, tongues sliding in and around each other’s mouths, hands pressed against his chest. You kiss like this for a minute, your pulse beating fast under your skin.

He breaks away, foreheads touching, noses nuzzling. “Hi,” he whispers.

You smile. “Hi.”

You get onto the bed and lie besides each other, his arms wrapped around your body. “How are you?” He gives you a smooch on your forehead.

“I’m fine. Chapter meeting was quick. How about you?”

“Same. Uneventful, as always.” He squeezes you tighter in his embrace. “I’m sorry about Friday night. For running off.”

You’ve had nearly two days to digest all that happened that night and how it plays into your current situation. The rollercoaster of emotions, beginning with denial, peaking at anger, and halting at shame, is causing you to spiral. You spent hours Saturday morning, lying in bed, refusing to accept that Annie is absolutely correct: you do deserve better. You are better than this. And when the realization finally hits you like a bag of bricks, the rest of your Saturday is wasted pacing around campus, letting off steam caused by this newfound contempt for Eren Jaeger. The blatant disrespect from him that you so fervently overlooked is impossible to deny any longer.

This leads you into Sunday, when the guilt of how you failed yourself starts to consume you. The burden of realizing that you got yourself into this mess weighs heavy on your chest; the burden to escape it weighs even heavier.

Yet, you lie here with him on Sunday night, wishing for a sign of redemption. Anything to prove that all this was worth it. That it still is worth it. Holding out hope for some type of forlorn act of love.

He clears his throat. “I freaked out when I saw them. I didn’t know what to do, so I just ran. I’m sorry.”

You stay silent, waiting for any additional explanation, maybe a more valid reason for ditching you. Nothing else comes out of it. Eventually, he clears his throat again, obviously uncomfortable, asking, “So, what did you end of telling them?”

You choose to leave out the details of what Annie said. It’s not the right time. You don’t want to confess to him that it’s been eating away at you for the past two days. Not yet. “I told them that we’re hooking up.”

“Did they have anything to say to that?”

“Not really. They were just surprised.”

He chuckles. “Annie isn’t necessarily the biggest fan of me, so I’m sure she’s secretly upset about it.”

She did not keep it a secret at all, you think to yourself, remembering her disgust very clearly.

“They’re not going to tell anybody, are they?”

“No. They’re my friends. They’re not going to say anything.”

“Good.” His relief doesn’t bring you comfort. Rather, it causes you more stress. He’s so desperate to keep you a secret, and for what? To save face? Protect a reputation that barely exists in the first place?

“Would it be so bad? If people know? What’s the big deal?” You’re already preparing yourself for a disappointing answer.

Before he replies, he reaches his fingers down to your chin to tilt your head up. “I want to be with you, okay? I just need time.”

“Time?”

“Yeah, to get used to this. I’m not really a relationship or commitment person. This is all new to me. Just give me time. I promise you. It’ll all be alright.” His eyes look earnest. Honest. Sweet.

The trouble with Eren Jaeger is that he is a master at his craft. Manipulating a situation to go his way is a skill that no one can compete with him in. And it’s taken you several weeks to recognize how easily you fall for it.

You leave it at that, tired of hearing excuses, exhausted of empty promises. You start kissing him, palming his cock until it’s hard beneath his pants. This is how it always ends up with you two. This is the only thing you’re good for.

A few minutes later, you’re both naked, you on your back, thighs spread open as he eats you out, pumping his fingers inside you. You’re the same obedient girl that gave your virginity to him. Allowed him to defile you, to ruin you. It’s what you wanted, what you fantasized about. And now you are dealing with the consequences. Picking up the pieces that you willingly let him destroy.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl. Such a good girl for daddy,” he hums, flicking his tongue over your clit, middle and ring finger working overtime in and out of your cunt.

You allow the ecstasy to smother you, because the only way to feel good with Eren is like this. He doesn’t have to know that your mind is filled with doubts, regret, insecurity. And, as he sends you into your first orgasm of the night, you temporarily forget about all the imperfections in this shady relationship. You let the lust and pleasure justify why you’re still here in bed with him.

When you come all over his fingers, he doesn’t stop. He keeps going until his digits are wet, shiny, and sticky with your slick. He sucks on your clit until it’s swollen and sensitive. Until you’re whimpering with tears rolling down the sides of your face. Until he’s had your fill of you, and you’ve given him all that you can offer.

Without warning, he pulls his fingers out of you and slides his hard cock up and down your arousal, spreading your cum over your clit. You hear the click of the lube bottle, the soft squelch of oil being rubbed on his shaft, the gravely moan resounding from his throat.

“Are you ready, baby?”

“Yes,” you breathe out.

He kneels in front of you, positioned between your legs. His cock glides into your sleek pussy easily, eliciting a low moan from his mouth as he bottoms out. He thrusts into you slowly, spreading your thighs out wider for a better angle. He watches you swallow his entire length, a satisfied smile forming at his lips, as he continues to penetrate your sloppy cunt.

“Fuck, baby. Look at you. You’re beautiful.” His eyes drift up to meet your gaze. You try to suppress the flutter in your belly, reminding yourself that he only says this when you’re beneath him, surrounding his cock. Giving him what he wants.

“Take this cock, take this fucking cock. Good girl, good fucking girl,” he growls, sliding his hands under your thighs and pushing your knees closer to your chest. He has you in a fucking mating press, pounding your G-spot ruthlessly, determined to milk you dry.

“Fuck!” you cry out, fists clenching the sheets, eyes shut tight as he drills you into the bed, completely lost in the heat of passion. You hear him spit twice, his saliva trickling onto your puffy clit. Suddenly, his fingers are on you, stimulating your messy bud smeared in his drool. The sensation overtakes you. Soon, you’re coming once more all over his cock, pussy throbbing around him.

“I want to fill you up, baby. Fill you up with my fucking load,” he moans. Both his hands are holding onto your legs, pushing them towards your shoulders into a goddamn yoga pose. Your cunt is so wet, you’re worried he’ll slip out any second.

He orgasms inside you, groaning as he comes down from his high. “Fuck, baby. Wish I could take a picture of this.” He pulls out to marvel at your drenched pussy, biting his lower lip.

Turning your head to the side, you stare blankly at the wall of your bedroom, brought back to reality. Nothing has changed. He’s still the same Eren. Your body feels good, spent and satiated, as it usually does when he’s finished with you. Your mind, however, is focused on all the problems that remain.

He chuckles, crawling next to you, asking, “You okay?” Completely unaware of the turmoil taking over your mind.

You nod, staying silent as you sit up, ready to make your usual post-coital trip to the bathroom. His hand grips at your wrist. “Hey. Baby. Seriously, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just have to pee,” you tell him. Not yet. It’s still not the right time.

“Okay,” he relents, loosening his hold on you.

You slide into your pajamas, avoiding his gaze. From the corner of your eye, you see him looking at you with a worried expression. Does he actually care?

As you exit your bedroom, anxiety creeps into your chest. It feels like the calm before the storm.

Sometime soon, you’re going to crack. The burden of it all is going to break you, cause you to snap. Unleash the hell that’s burning in your fragile soul.

Not tonight, not in this moment. But soon.

You’ll finally be free.

~~~

The days pass and Eren’s timeline for turning his sign-up form is dwindling. He’s been debating with himself all week about how he should proceed with this.

Thursday night, the brothers of Alpha Tau eat dinner together in the dining room. Those that live in the house are prepared food everyday by their house chef. Pledges are allowed two meals a week, free of charge, as long as an active brother signs them up as their guest. Tonight, Reiner invites him to eat with them.

“Have you asked Pieck to formal yet?” Reiner shoves a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth, waiting for a response.

“I haven’t,” he replies, taking a bite out of the meatloaf on his plate. He knew this was going to come up eventually.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” In a hushed voice, he leans in closer and urges, “Just don’t take a Sigma Nu Kappa. Anyone but them. A lot of brothers are already taking them. We need to add some hot girls in there or else we’ll be the laughingstock to the rest of the frats.”

It’s a ridiculous statement. Truly. Reiner is an idiot. Apparently so is Eren for going along with everything he commands.

“I don’t even know how to get a hold of her. I only met her at the Halloween party.”

“Ask Bertolt to help you out. He’s taking another Delta Mu sister. She can let Pieck know you’re interested.”

Eren has been procrastinating doing this on purpose. Once he asks Pieck to the dance, he has no other choice but to break the news to her. He’s nervous for how she’ll react; she’ll probably come up with some smartass comment to make him feel guilty. She never stays mad at him, though. Never. He has her wrapped around his finger, and he shamelessly takes advantage of that.

“Fine. I’ll ask Bertolt to help me set it up.”

Reiner pats his back. “Don’t forget to sign up for a room with a single bed. I’m sure you’ll be using it.” He gives you a cocky smirk, going back to scarf down his meal.

Eren hangs out on the couch after dinner, digesting. He checks his phone frequently, waiting for any type of text inviting him over. He hasn’t talked to her since Monday morning, when he whispered a soft “good morning” as he crawled out of bed to get ready for the day. Even though they spent the night together, she didn’t say much. Usually, they chat with each other before drifting off to sleep. She was much quieter on Sunday, only nodding along and providing short responses as he babbled on and on. He attributes it to exhaustion from the amazing sex, Eren finally trying a position he’s been fantasizing about doing with her.

On his way out of the house to retreat to his dorm room for the night, he spots Annie walking out of the Sigma Nu Kappa house. “Jaeger,” she calls out, before he can avert her.

Reluctantly, he turns to face her. “Hey.”

“Come here for a second. I want to talk to you.” Her expression is the typical scowl she wears whenever she sees him. He wonders if she’s typically like this with others or if this frown is specifically reserved for him.

“What do you want?”

She sizes him up, eyes narrowed. “Geez, what’s with the attitude?”

“What do you want?” he repeats, already losing his patience.

She twirls a strand a hair between her fingers. “Armin asked me to formal.”

“Yeah, he told me he was going to ask you.” He still can’t fathom how his best friend, who is a gentle teddy bear, plans to attend a dance with someone as callous and deadpan as Annie. Then again, he hasn’t been spending much time with Armin to discuss this recent development.

“So, when are you going to ask her? I heard the deadline is on Sunday. It’s already Thursday.”

Eren plays dumb, placing his hands in his pockets and shrugging. He doesn’t owe anyone, especially Annie Leonhart, an explanation.

She glares at him, crossing her arms over her chest. “What are you doing? She’s a nice girl. Why are you messing around with her like this?”

The accusation irritates him. Defensively, he responds, “I’m not messing around with her, okay? And I know she’s a nice girl. Why do you think I keep her around?”

Her eyes get narrower, scrutinizing him. “She’s not a plaything, Jaeger. She’s a human being.”

“Yeah, I’m aware of that.”

“Do you even know how she feels about you?”

There’s a growing guilt building in his chest as he tries to remain unbothered by this hostile confrontation. He keeps silent, unsure how to react. Truth be told, he doesn’t want to know. Knowing will only make it more difficult for him to let go. To move on.

She scoffs. “You’re pathetic.”

“And you’re nosy,” he spits out. “What the hell did you tell her anyways? She’s been really distant lately. Hasn’t been talking to me much.”

A small smirk forms on her face. “I told her the truth. Told her what she needed to hear.”

“What does that mean?”

“If you don’t know, then you really are hopeless.”

Eren rolls his eyes, having had enough of this conversation. This is typical Eren. When he’s put in a tough situation, he walks away. Sometimes runs. He turns away from her, not at all interested in being harassed any further.

Before he moves, she warns, “There are a lot of people who care about her. If you hurt her, you will be reminded every day of how badly you fucked up.”

It sounds like a threat. With Annie, it probably is.

Without facing her, he says, “I care about her too, Annie.” His voice is soft, maybe even a little vulnerable. Admitting it out loud is unusual; he’s surprised to hear his own mouth utter these words.

“Then act like it. I thought you didn’t let other people influence how you think or feel. Remember you told me that? Don’t let Reiner influence your decisions. Believe it or not, I at least have more respect for you than him. Don’t be a disappointment.”

With that, he makes his way back to his dorm room, Annie’s words sticking to his mind no matter how hard he tries to disregard them. She’s right; he knows what he’s doing is wrong.

Don’t be a disappointment.

It’s too late for that.

~~~

Friday night, Sigma Nu Kappa hosts their monthly pizza night. The sisters gather in the kitchen, assembling their personalized pies, handing them over to their chef who bakes them in a portable wood-fired oven. During these special nights, all sisters, whether they live in the house or not, are allowed to participate.

Hange, who always tries to make the smelliest pizza possible, topped with anchovies, olives, onions, and garlic, is regulated in the corner of the room, eating her meal alone with a twisted smile on her face. Petra, Nanabe, and the other seniors talk amongst themselves as they munch on their dinner, discussing upperclassmen topics unrelated to the rest of the sisters.

You eat with Mikasa, Annie, and Sasha on the couch, watching a comedy movie on TV. After some idle gossip, Sasha brings up a topic that catches you off guard.

“Who else is going to Alpha Tau’s formal, besides Mikasa and Hitch?”

“Hey, I haven’t been formally asked by Jean yet. He wants to do it after a nice dinner tomorrow, bless his heart,” Mikasa explains, a sweet smile on her face. “Who’s taking Hitch?”

“Connie!” Sasha answers, proudly. “I set it up. Just call me Cupid.”

“Armin asked me. And I said yes,” Annie mentions in a quiet voice, blushing.

“Armin?! Oooh la la, Annie!” Sasha teases, resulting in a firm punch to her arm.

You notice Annie glancing at you, imploring some sort of comment.

“I didn’t even know Alpha Tau is having a formal,” you say. Eren hasn’t mentioned it all week. In fact, he’s barely contacted you since Monday morning, when he kissed you goodbye before leaving for his morning class. In his defense, you haven’t made any effort to reach out to him either. You can’t help but wonder if he’s planning to ask you eventually. There’s still that glimmer of hope you’re holding out for him, despite how fast it’s dwindling.

Annie glares, clearly upset. However, she doesn’t say anything, still adhering to her vow of silence in regard to your secret.

“Mike is probably going to ask you,” Mikasa mentions, smirking. She found out about your little fling with Mike on Halloween and has been pestering you about it since.

You return her smile. “Maybe.”

In all honesty, you wouldn’t mind going to formal with Mike. After that night, you still consider him a friend. The few times you’ve passed by him this week, he’s acted normally, greeting you with that handsome grin that he wears so confidently. If you weren’t so fucked up in the head by Eren, you could definitely see yourself falling for Mike, the way he deserves. The way both of you deserve.

Instead, here you are. Still wishing more than anything that Eren asks you to this formal. Setting your expectations so high, you can barely see the top. It’s laughable. It’s pathetic.

You spend the rest of the night at the house, watching another movie snuggled next to your sisters as you all share a big bowl of popcorn. Mikasa leaves before you, heading to Jean’s for the night. Instinctually, you reach for your phone, ready to text Eren. Before you can, Annie nudges you.

“Hey. Let’s walk back together. I want to talk to you.”

The two of you leave the house, slowly making your way towards the dorms. You’re concerned about what she wants to tell you, anticipating it has something to do with Eren. “What is it, Annie?”

She sighs, staring down at the ground as you both take your time walking. “I’m just going to say it, okay?”

You nod, eyebrows knit together with worry. Anxious for another truth bomb she’s sure to drop in this moment.

“I don’t think Eren is going to ask you to formal.”

It’s inevitable; your heart falls. The sinking sensation dwelling in the pit of your stomach slows down your steps, as if gravity is pulling you towards the ground. “How do you know?”

“I ran into him last night. I asked him and he didn’t give a straightforward answer.”

“Oh,” is all you can mutter as you process this information.

“Also, I overheard something.” She pauses, debating if she should continue.

“Annie,” you urge her, desperate for the truth.

She gulps loudly, admitting, “I heard he’s taking someone from Delta Mu.”

There’s a cluster of emotions rushing through your head. He’d rather take anyone else besides you, the girl he’s been fucking the past couple of weeks. He was on his goddamn knees just a week ago, begging to have you. Granting whatever wish you desired to nestle himself inside your body, the one you offered him on the fateful night that initiated it all.

You’re as much to blame as he is, falling for his tricks. For that low voice that can lull you into a trance and manipulate you into submission. Those compelling eyes that dazzle you, hiding the true nature of his cold, frigid heart.

While your feelings for him have always been true, there are far too many red flags now to ignore, to make excuses for. Time and time again, you’ve let the waves of pleasure purify the sins of your messy relationship, if only for a short while at a time. Not anymore. This is the final straw.

Now, you want revenge. To hurt him the same way he’s hurt you. Pull the rug out from under him like he’s done to you in the past. Make him feel something. It may sound cruel and petty, but you don’t care. For the first time since it started, you have clarity.

“Are you okay?” Annie asks.

“I don’t know. But I think I’m starting to see things more clearly now.”

She gives you a small smile. “That’s good to hear.”

After dropping her off to her building, you head to your room, alone. Repulsed by the idea of inviting Eren over with this new information swimming around in your head. Coincidentally, your phone rings, flashing his name across the screen.

“Hello?” you answer, attempting to keep your cool.

“Hey,” he greets, his gruff voice taking a different effect on you now. “How are you?”

“I’m okay.” You keep your responses short. Not in the mood for the typical pleasantries of a phone conversation.

You hear a sense of trepidation in his voice, as he says, “So, not sure if you’ve heard already, but there’s this formal coming up for Alpha Tau.”

“Yeah, I heard.”

You hear him clear his throat, nervous. “I’m going to take Pieck. From Delta Mu.”

Gut punch. Annie prepared you for this, but to hear it from his own voice doesn’t soften the blow.

Before you can respond, he continues. “It doesn’t mean anything. Reiner told me to take her, so I am.”

He’s a coward. A fucking coward. Always abiding to what his big brother demands him to do, for no good reason. And you’re a fool for letting it go this far.

“Okay.”

“Are you mad? It’s just formal. It’s not like I’m dating her or anything. I won’t even dance with her if it makes you happy.” The audacity he has to justify it, to make it seem like what he’s doing is no big deal. It takes all your willpower not to scream into the phone.

“If you really want to make me happy, you’d ask me to go with you, instead of some other girl,” you state.

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re not supposed to be seen together yet. I’m not ready.” Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.

“So, it’s okay to be seen with a Delta Mu, but not with me?” you challenge him, anger seeping through your voice.

“It’s not like that. Just give me some more time, okay? I just need more time.”

Officially fed up, you quickly say, “Yeah, okay. Got it. Have fun at formal.” You hang up, not waiting for a response.

Time. You’re sick of hearing this. He uses it as if it’s the magic word that erases all your problems, an excuse to prolong your suffering. You’re not even sure what he needs time for. Does he need it to get over his own insecurities? To grow up and make adult decisions? To realize he cares about you? Regardless, his time is running out. He didn’t even have the decency to tell you any of this in person. It was all through a fucking phone call.

Eren Jaeger truly is a coward. The biggest coward of them all.

Your limit has been reached. This is your breaking point.

You know what you have to do.

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End Notes: We’re nearing the end, folks! I have three more chapters planned, plus an epilogue. Thank you again for those who have read, commented, liked, and reblogged any or all parts of this so far!

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 11 months

Text

What's the occasion?

Masterlist

A/N: What this was supposed to be: A fluffy comfort fic about reader's husband taking care of her after a rough day/week/month. What this isn't: A fluffy comfort fic about read.... you get me.

What this somehow ended up being: A not-so-fluffy not-so-comfort (?) fic about reader's husband taking real good care of her after a rough day/week/month.

You're welcome, I think? (I honestly don't have a clue how this ended up being some of the smuttiest smut I've written to date... But it happened... I'm not even going to question it.)

Pairing: Syverson x reader (you)

Summary: You come home from a terrible day at work, thinking you have about a thousand things still on your to do list, only to find your husband has taken care of all of that, and has also made you the first thing on his to do list.

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, SMUT, MINORS DNI. oral (m and f receiving), p-in-v sex, Sy being all dominant and massive, some light (yes, really) throatfucking, hair pulling, manhandling. Some of this can probably be considered blasphemy.

Also, fair warning: this story contains a man doing household chores without having been (explicitly) asked to do so. Just... Bear with me. I know it's not realistic, but we're here to have fun, right?

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @keanureevesisbae @fvckinghenrycavill @ellethespaceunicorn @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @peyton-warren @summersong69 @mayloma @livisss

Parking your husband’s truck in your driveway is an absolute nightmare. It takes you twenty minutes and a breakdown – during which you fight yourself over whether or not to just go inside and ask him to park his stupid car for you – but you eventually manage. Now, it’s time to go inside, after the longest day at the office in the history of long ass days at the office, and do the six million other things that come for free with having a house, husband, and kids. Dishes. Laundry. Dinner. That stuff.

You toss your bag down on the bench next to the front door and put your coat on the overflowing coat rack six times – it keeps coming down because for some reason, your teen daughter owns 12 jackets, yet she still always asks to borrow yours seconds before telling you that all of your clothes suck – before you finally give up and leave it where it falls.

It takes you a minute to realize that you smell food. With three kids and your mountain of a husband, that can only really mean one thing: someone got hungry, your plans for dinner are now in ruins and your kitchen looks like an episode of Hoarders. And even though those are your expectations, your family still manage to exceed them every time, so God knows what you’re going to find when you round that corner and step into your kitchen...

It’s Sy. And it’s not just Sy, but it’s just Sy. Come to think of it... The whole house is suspiciously void of music, screaming or shoes scattered around for you to break your neck over.

“Where are the kids?” you ask as you walk towards Sy.

“With my mother,” he replies without turning around, “to be returned to us on Sunday night at eight, and not a second before then. Are ya goin' to make a habit of not sayin’ hello to me when you get home? ‘Cause I don’t care for it.”

“Well, excuse me for not taking the time out of my busy schedule for pleasantries, but I have a week’s worth of laundry to get to,” you snap. He doesn’t deserve it, you know that, but it’s the kind of day you’ve had, and... And it’s all on you again.

“Laundry’s done,” Sy says calmly, still not looking up from the lasagna he’s putting together.

“Oh,” you stammer. “Well, then I’ll just grab the vacuum and...”

“I did that, too.”

“Alright, I’ll give the garage a quick call to see if they can...”

“I changed the oil in your car this morning.”

“Groceries?”

“Done.”

“The bathroom?”

“Yep.”

“And you’ve obviously got a handle on dinner...” You have to admit it: you’re a little stumped. “What about...”

“Woman, if you’re lookin’ for somethin’ I didn’t do so you can blow up at me for it, I’ll just hand it to ya: I didn’t get to cleanin’ out the gutters today, so I’ll have to do that tomorrow.”

But you’re not planning on blowing up at him over anything...

“Well, hello Mr. Syverson,” you say, still completely in awe that your entire schedule for the night – and probably the whole weekend – just opened up. “Remind me... We got married in October, right?”

“Yes, Mrs. Syverson, we did.” He’s even less subtle than usual, skipping your hips and putting his hands on our ass right off the bat.

“So, what’s the occasion?” you chuckle. Sy pulls you in for a kiss, just passionate enough to leave you wanting more, but not so bad you beg him to take you right here on the kitchen counter. It’s a fine line, really. A tightrope you’ve tried to walk before, only to fall off on the wrong side and be late for yet another dinner with someone who was never going to be more important than having sex with your husband, anyway.

“The occasion is... You’re beautiful. You deserve it. You do so much for our family and somewhere along the lines I seem to have started takin’ that for granted. Take your pick, I’m sure there’s plenty more reasons to come up with.” He squeezes your ass. Hard. “This sensational ass could be the occasion?”

“You’re saying you got rid of the kids for the weekend and checked off my whole to do list to celebrate the existence of my ass?”

“Sugar, I celebrate the existence of that fine ass every damn day. Now, I’ve fallen a little behind on celebrating the existence of the woman attached to it... I’d like to make up for that.” There is absolutely no way you aren’t blushing right now. Sy doesn’t let go of you, but his hands move to your waist. You’re trying your best to not drown in his eyes, but you’ve been hopelessly lost in there for nearly twenty years. For a brief – but lovely – moment, you stand there, just holding each other and making eyes like you used to when you were young and in love. And young...

“This needs about half an hour in the oven, still, so how about I give you forty-five and you can take a nice, long shower?” Sy winks at you – or rather: tries to. “There’s something on the bed I’d love to take off of you later tonight, but I also understand if you just want to wear something comfortable.”

“Did you pick it?” you tease him.

“You’ll be more than happy to know that I did, but under the very strict supervision of Dana.” It seems like your dear husband has finally learned how to use the fact his best friend’s wife works in a lingerie store to his advantage… Took him long enough.

“Right on time,” Sy says as you step into the kitchen. You take the glass of wine he’s holding out to you and take a sip.

“Mmm...” The sound you make is almost a moan. One look at the bottle on the table tells you this is a really nice wine – one from a price range you can’t afford to shop at...

“Gift from a client. Walker said I could take it. I guess his wine cellar doesn’t fit any more.” Sy pulls you in for a hug. It doesn’t last long, but it’s nice, very nice.

Dinner is amazing. Sy is a great cook – when given means, motive, and opportunity – and he has prepared three courses of absolute heaven. He only has to assure you twice that the price of the ingredients won’t put your family in financial ruin.

You’re halfway through dessert – a deliciously indulgent, rich chocolate mousse you’re fairly sure he made from scratch – when you realize something.

“You can’t have done all the laundry. We don’t have the space to hang all of that...”

“I fixed the dryer,” Sy interrupts, “I’m sorry I only did that after it became a problem to me, personally.”

“That’s alright...”

“No, it ain’t,” Sy grins. He knows you.

“Very well, then. I accept your apology. You’re forgiven.” You remember the moment you knew you were going to marry this man: right after your first fight – he had been wrong, although you can’t remember what he’d been wrong about. It had had something to do with your mother. Either way, right after that fight, he’d apologized, and for some reason the lack of excuses had made you want to jump him right where you were standing. You’d almost broken up with him when you realized you weren’t half as good at apologizing as he was.

“Alright, well,” Sy smirked, still. It was incredibly attractive, and at least as annoying. “I was planning on makin’ up for that, but now that I don’t have to…” His voice trailed off for a moment before you gently nudged his leg with your foot.

“How about we finish this bottle upstairs?” You don’t need to tell him twice: he’s on his feet before you even finish the sentence.

“You go ahead, Sugar,” he says before kissing you as gently as a giant like him can muster, “I’ll make sure this kitchen is spotless before I come up.”

“Oh, Mr. Syverson, you are killing me.”

“Oh,” Sy adds with a grin on his face, “and you were right. The vacuum cleaner sucks, we need a new one.”

“Say that again…”

“The vacuum cleaner sucks?” He knows damn well which part you’re referring to. That wasn’t it.

“Before that.”

“Ah. You were right.”

“You have ten minutes to get to bed, or I’m starting without you,” you tease, knowing very well he wouldn’t mind one bit if you did start before he got there.

Sy is impatient as ever when he finally steps into your bedroom, pulling his shirt over his head before the door even shuts behind… Alright, maybe the door doesn’t close because he just leaves it wide open.

“Sy! Close the door!” you shriek, but he just takes a few more steps until he’s right next to the bed.

“Why? Kids ain’t home. We’re alone, we don’t need to close the door,” he says as he pushes you back onto the mattress. “We don’t gotta be quiet, either.” With a devilish grin on his face, he kisses you. First your lips, then your neck. His beard doesn’t tickle – not after all these years. He shaved it off once, only to immediately get on growing it back, because you wouldn’t give him any. You move your hands through the hair on his chest while Sy roughly pulls your shirt over your head. He groans appreciatively when the bra he picked out for you appears.

“Do you like it?” he asks. He doesn’t have the greatest track record when it comes to picking stuff that’s actually to your tastes, but you’d be lying if those items didn’t have their own special little drawer – that you definitely haven’t opened in far too long…

“I do,” you purr into his ear, biting your lip when he grinds his hips into you. He’s hard, seeking friction, release. You love when he gets this worked up over you. “You did a good job.”

“Hm,” he growls, “I didn’t like it at first. Thought it was kinda boring.” That’s not what you want to hear… It’s a good thing he opens his mouth again to continue: “But now that it’s your tits in there… Can’t decide if I wanna keep it on ya or rip it off…” To your surprise, he opts for the former, making sure to kiss every inch of skin that’s newly available to him as he makes his way down your stomach, dragging you to the edge of the bed as he goes along.

He can do it within minutes. Making you come on his tongue, that is. He never does, because the smug fucking bastard likes teasing you too much to ever give you what you want – nay, need – that quickly. That patience, however, is nowhere to be found when it comes to taking your clothes off. He admires you and your new underwear for maybe five seconds, and then your panties are somewhere in the room. No, you don’t care where, exactly.

“Fuck, Sugar, you’re beautiful,” Sy growls from between your legs. “I’ve missed this sweet little cunt.” His words used to startle you so bad you asked him to stop talking multiple times when you’d first started going out. Now, they just make you blush, and they make you wet, and that’s all that you need from him right now. Sometimes, you’re still grateful for the moments he can’t speak – when his mouth is otherwise occupied, so to speak. It’s the moaning, and growling, and the grunts and obscene slurping – hideous word, but sadly the only applicable description – sounds that get you. It’s the pleasure, and the way he knows exactly how and when and where to move his tongue to make you squirm, moan, and scream in his strong arms. Unfortunately, he still isn’t exactly at that point. He’s still teasing, and you’re still whining, and no one is coming.

In no time, you’re going nuts. It’s not bad enough to speak up. And by that you mean: beg him to finally eat you in that way you both know makes you see stars and seek God and scream His name – or Sy’s, but what difference does that make, anyway? Instead, he keeps you right there, at the point where you’re just invested enough in the fantastic feeling that you want to be consumed by it, but it just isn’t enough to keep you from getting distracted. By the feeling of his beard against the inside of your thighs. By the fact that your panties somehow ended up on the lamp on his bedside table. By the gentle pulsing of the vein in his forearm your finger currently rests on. And he keeps you there, and keeps you there until you’ve almost convinced yourself you’ve gotten so used to this – to him – that he can’t do it anymore, forgetting that he really isn’t even trying. That twenty years of ‘this’, whatever the fuck that may mean, just means that he’s found so many different ways to take care of you that he couldn’t go through all of them in one night even if you could physically take it, simply because he’d run out of time before he made it halfway through the list.

And when you get there, to that point where you start thinking he might just not be as good as he used to, you’ve lost. Because from then on, it’s a minute. Thirty seconds. Maybe even twenty, or ten, or less – not that you’d know, because you couldn’t count to three anymore if you tried.

“Darlin’, you taste like fuckin’ heaven,” he mutters, never taking his lips off your skin completely. His fingers tease your entrance, pads coarse and calloused. It appears that, even after all these years, you still haven’t learned that if your mouth won’t beg, your body will. Unconsciously, you angle your hips, lean into his touch, use your legs to pull him closer – and he answers. As always. Sy knows what you want, and he doesn’t think twice to give it to you, even if – possibly especially when – what you really want isn’t what you think you want. He’ll know, just like he’ll know exactly when his name is on the tip of your tongue, waiting to be released along with everything he’s building up inside of you.

A loud moan escapes you when his fingers curl inside you, diligently working the perfect spot while his tongue laps at your clit, looking for the perfect move, speed, pressure, everything, until you shriek the words ‘oh God, Sy, don’t stop’, or you gasp, or moan – or one of the million other ways in which you tell him what needs done without saying a single word. And he doesn’t stop. Not until he unravels you completely. Not until you remember why you normally close and lock that door and keep quiet. Not until you know with every fiber of your being that he holds back, and he reminds you of everything he’s capable of.

When he comes back up, caging your body in between his strong arms and broad chest, pinning you down on the mattress, you hope he’s had enough time to catch his breath, because you immediately pull him into a long, deep kiss that says more than just ‘I missed you’. If it was at all possible to stress every syllable of a sentence, now would be the time. But who’s got time for talking when that impatient bulge grinds between your legs, the heavy, coarse fabric of Sy’s jeans harsh against your sensitive skin.

You push against his shoulders – it’s usually pointless, but he seems to have grown at least as impatient as you have, so he gets up. Four hands reach for his belt. You always make a great team, but this is madness, and neither of you are surprised you don’t get anything done this way.

“Move those hands if you wanna keep ‘em, Syverson,” you say with a sly smile on your face. He grits his teeth when you look up at him – it’s one of the things you know he loves to hate, because it drives him insane, and he doesn’t like that. Sy wants to be in control. Tough luck. Getting him naked is child’s play now that his hands aren’t in the way anymore, and you can’t stifle an appreciative moan when his cock appears in front of you.

“I’m not saying I married you for this big dick, but it didn’t hurt your chances.” You bite your lip and look up at him. The amusement at your words fades off his face within seconds, making room for something darker and more sinister than you usually get to see.

“If you can use that mouth to talk, you can use it to suck my cock,” he says. You’ve played this game a thousand times, yet you’re still stupid enough to open your mouth in protest, and he seizes the opportunity. “That’s a good girl.” There’s a hint more… savagery to his naturally dark and gravelly voice than you’re used to hearing under normal circumstances. It’s a possessive, almost animalistic sound. It’s something that used to scare you when you were first going out. Something he didn’t let you get too closely acquainted with until he knew for sure he could trust you with that side of him – the side of him that sometimes just loves to shove his cock down your throat in one smooth thrust until you’re gagging and fighting back tears. Tonight is exactly the night you want every inch of him in the exact way you haven’t had him in for the longest time.

Your eyes beg, and once again he listens. How one man can be made up of so many contradictions, is something you’ve accepted you might never find out. ‘He gently fucks your throat.’ It sounds completely insane, but it’s possible. And you know it’s possible, because it’s happening. To you. Right now. If that weren’t the case, you probably wouldn’t have believed it yourself. He’s kind and ruthless at the same time, moving in and out of your mouth with controlled movements while moans and profanities escape him with reckless abandon. His hand is tangled in your hair, gathering a good portion of it in his fist, gripping just tight enough to remind you he’s there, but not so tight you’re in pain.

“God, baby, I love fucking this pretty li’l mouth of yours,” he says, teeth gritted, eyes closed, and the expression on his face warped in such a way that tells you it’s taking everything he’s got to keep whatever composure he has left at this stage. “But I gotta tell ya,” he continues as his breathing grows more and more ragged, a low growl barely audible on the exhale, “this ain’t what I need right now.”

He effortlessly tosses you back onto the mattress, finding his way between your legs in no time.

“Baby, I want you,” he growls before he kisses you again. “I need you. Need your tight, wet, fucking pussy around my cock right now.” He doesn’t move away from you much as he lifts your legs onto his shoulders. He’ll be deep, too deep, maybe, and you know you’ll regret this in the morning – but what good has regret ever done anyone, anyway? As he pushes into you, you realize he’s on his last bit of restraint. You take one last good look at him, because after this, it’s going to hurt so good you won’t be able to keep your eyes open for so much as a split second.

“Careful,” you chuckle, already far more out of breath than you like to admit, “you’re too much for me.”

“What’re’ya talkin’bout, woman?” Sy grumbles. “I know you can take me.” He’s not wrong. Exhibit A would be the fact that he buried his cock in your tight pussy with that one, agonizingly slow thrust. The next one is neither slow, nor even remotely as gentle, making you moan as you pull his face down to yours and kiss him. Your legs are trembling on his shoulders within minutes, and you find yourself chanting his name religiously – making it just about the only thing in your life you’ve done in that particular manner.

“Good God, you’re amazing,” Sy growls in your ear as he bottoms out with every erratic thrust. You watch as his jaw clenches when you dig your nails into the flesh of his back, careful to avoid the scars – an unwelcome souvenir from his time in the army. Most of the memories of the times you accidentally caught one in the heat of the moment have faded away by now. It hasn’t happened in years. You could draw a map of his back: every muscle, every scar, every mark on his skin is etched into your brain, and will stay there until the day you die. He’s yours every bit as much as you’re his, although he likes to put a little more emphasis on the latter.

“Want me to fuck another baby into you?” Hearing him say that makes you realize how incredibly happy you are that he can’t make good on that threat anymore. Sy hadn’t been happy when you’d informed him that you were bestowing upon him the incredible responsibility of contraception after having baby number three, but appointments were made, surgeries were had and all was right with the world. He’d only pouted and moaned about shooting blanks for about six months until things went back to normal.

“Do your worst, big guy,” you tease. You heard his breathing when he asked his question, felt the sheen of sweat covering his whole, massive body as he continued pounding you into the mattress with the same relentless pace as before, only slightly wavering in rhythm… You pull him close, gritting your teeth to get through the cramp in your leg as the weight of Sy’s body forces your legs closer to yours. “Fill me up.”

“That was mean,” Sy mutters, out of breath.

“As if you would have lasted any longer!” you say as you slap him in the face with a pillow. “I was about to tap out, anyway.” Not one word of that is a lie. You wouldn’t have walked for a week if you’d let him keep going. It really was a good thing he was a little on edge already…

“Fine, woman, have your victory,” he growls as he pulls you into his arms and lifts you off the bed. “Ready for another shower?”

#captain syverson #syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fanfiction #syverson x reader #syverson #syverson smut #syverson fic #syverson x you #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill characters #henrycavill fanfic

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sixhours · 2 months

Text

Chapter 1 - The Ghosts of Babylon

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut and violence Series tags: Joel Miller x You, Joel Miller x Reader, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, LGBTQ+ characters, y/n is bi/pan, y/n is ~45, violence, pregnancy, abortion, medical trauma, emotional trauma, panic attacks, sex work, suicide, smut, slow burn, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, romance, no use of y/n, reader has longish hair, Joel can lift you, smallish age gap (~11 years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

~*~

Portland, Maine September 26, 2003

“Fuck.”

The air in the bathroom is thick with moisture, making it hard to breathe. You wipe at the condensation on the mirror and stare at the face reflected back at you, pale and drawn in the yellow light.

“Fuck, fuuuuck,” you mutter, holding the pregnancy test up and squinting, tilting it this way and that, hoping the extra line is just a trick of the light, but it doesn’t go away. You groan, internally vacillating between panic and rage.

Fuck.

There’s a knock at the door. Your girlfriend, Joanna, probably wondering what’s taking so long.

“Hey, you done? We just got called into the hospital again.”

“What?” You drop the stick onto the counter, but you can’t stop staring at it, the two clear blue lines taunting you. Outside your shared one-bedroom apartment a siren begins to wail. “I just got home.”

“That’s the job, babe,” Jo says. The doorknob creaks, breaking your reverie.

“Shit, just a sec,” you mutter, shoving your foot against the door and fumbling for some toilet paper to wrap the test in before tucking it at the bottom of the garbage can. You swallow the urge to vomit as Jo pokes her head in.

“You’ve been in here forever–”

“Jeez, privacy,” you snap, clutching the towel to your body more tightly, suddenly keenly aware of how flimsy it is, how exposed you are.

Jo’s eyes widen with hurt and you immediately soften, guilt stabbing at the gentlest swell in your abdomen. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…it’s just been a long-ass day.”

You soothe her with a quick kiss, hoping she can’t taste the hint of bile under the mint of your toothpaste and mouthwash.

“I’ll be right there,” you say, ducking around her, headed to your room in search of fresh scrubs.

“You want something to eat? I made sandwiches to go.”

Your stomach turns. “No, I ate at the caf after my last shift,” you lie. “Is this an all-hands thing?” you call over your shoulder as you dig in the hamper. Nothing is clean, there’s never enough time to do laundry.

Plenty of time to fuck an old buddy and get knocked up, though , you think, setting your lips in a grim line and smoothing the wrinkles out of some navy blue slacks.

“Yeah, Dan says they’re calling everyone in,” she confirms. “Something about a virus, flu season’s starting early, they’re expecting a full house. It’s bad.”

“Mmm,” you say, pulling on the freshest top you can find and tying back your hair in a ponytail. You meet Jo at the door where she hands you a brown paper sack, presumably your sandwich.

“You okay?” she asks as you walk the four blocks to the hospital, grateful for the crisp fall air. You hope it hides the flush in your cheeks, hopes she didn’t hear you retching before you stepped into the shower. She reaches for your hand and takes it, but your fingers are numb. “You’re quiet.”

“I’m fine,” you say automatically. “Just…tired.”

“Okay…hey, I had an idea for our anniversary next week.”

“Hmm?”

“There’s this new place on Congress Street, they do a great brunch with free mimosas? Since it’s on a Sunday I thought we could probably sneak in a date after your shift–”

“That’s fine,” you say automatically, squeezing her hand in weak reassurance; just the word brunch makes your stomach turn. “I mean, great, sounds great.”

She stops you outside the hospital’s employee entrance and holds fast to your hand to pull you back before you can go in.

“Babe. Are you sure you’re alright?”

You blink back tears, swallow hard, and it almost comes out. You open your mouth to speak, but the sound of a siren interrupts as an ambulance screams out of the nearby garage, lights flashing, and the moment is gone.

You pull her into a tight hug. She smells soft and warm and familiar, like oranges and vanilla. You press a tight kiss to the nape of her neck in an unusually public display of affection.

“Whoa,” she says softly, taking an unintentional step back as if to catch you.

“I’m okay,” you murmur into her neck. “We’ll be okay.”

~*~

The smell of antiseptic barely registers as you enter the building, so familiar to you now it’s like a second home. Joanna gives you a quick wave before being intercepted by her attending, who drags her off to the ICU to check on a patient.

By the time you drop your bag off at your locker, shoving the paper satchel with your sandwich at the back, you’ve almost put the pregnancy out of your mind. It comes naturally, this tight compartmentalization of your feelings, this easy decoupling from your emotional state.

The on-call attending physician looks no worse for the wear, and in the back of your mind, you wonder if someone higher up is overreacting to the news out of Indonesia. Your limited knowledge of virology knows the flu can’t jump that quickly. You’re over a hundred miles from the nearest major airport. It will be several days before what’s happening there crawls its way to this tiny state. It’s true, the waiting room is busy, but that’s not unusual for a Friday night.

You fight off a wave of nausea and take a clipboard from the wall.

~*~

Several hours later, at about the time a man named Joel Miller is holding his dead daughter in his arms somewhere in Texas, you are beginning to understand that this is not influenza.

Reports out of Boston and New York City are fragmented and, quite frankly, unbelievable. There’s a federal emergency warning on the screen of every television in the lobby and a growing sense of unease as nurses, doctors, and assistants dash between rooms, weaving between gurneys, calling out orders for beds, antibiotics, IVs. The thrum of the waiting room only grows louder and more insistent. The sirens are a constant, frenetic wail in the distance.

But all of that is a dim clamor in the background because your latest patient has a bite. A distinctly human-mouth-shaped arc of angry red impressions in the crook of their neck. The patient also has a sudden fever and a rash that is rapidly spreading up the side of their head.

Rashes don’t move like that, rashes don’t fucking undulate …

If you didn’t know better you’d think it was blood poisoning, but you’ve never seen sepsis like this. You watched the bite happen, watched a troubled man in the waiting room lurch from his chair and fly toward his victim, sinking his teeth into the flesh of her neck before being restrained by an orderly and the receptionist. That was maybe five minutes ago, and you’ve never seen an infection spread so fucking fast . By the time you’d helped the patient into a cot, they were already shivering, skin clammy and burning at the same time.

The patient is your partner, Joanna.

“What…the fuck,” she murmurs, chest heaving. Her neck twitches and jumps under your careful, probing touch. Her skin is already dewy with sweat, hot under your fingertips.

“Hold still,” you hiss, unsure if you’re talking to her or your trembling hands. You douse the bite in antiseptic, wiping away the blood with a clean square of gauze, leaning in to examine the rash again. It’s crept up from her collarbone to her ear, and it has to be your imagination, but you can almost see it…move. Joanna is shivering, whether from the fever or shock you don’t know, but you don’t have time to process before a shriek rings out from the hall.

“Need some help out here!”

Joanna grimaces, hissing softly through her teeth. “Go.”

“Jo–”

“Go. I’ll be fine,” she says, even as her eyes roll back in pain.

You give her one last desperate look, squeezing her hand, whispering, “I’ll be right back,” before ducking out of the room.

A woman is seizing on the floor, spasms jerking her limbs from side to side. A nurse looks up at you with wide eyes as he attempts to stabilize the patient’s head and neck. The seizing woman’s head turns sharply and her teeth make contact with his wrist, ripping a gash in the tender flesh.

“Shit!” he cries, jerking his hand away, blood running in rivulets down his arm.

“Go, I’ve got this,” you bark. He doesn’t wait, doesn’t ask if you’re sure, just backs away and runs down the hall.

A hot hand on your shoulder spins you around before you can figure out what to do with the writhing woman on the floor. It’s Joanna, her eyes cloudy. The heat radiates off her body in waves, the rash–

Not a rash.

–has spread up her neck, already red and raised welt-like lines are slithering–

Rashes don’t slither.

–around the sunken sockets of her eyes.

“Help…” she croaks. Her fingers pulse and twitch against your collarbone, gripping too tight, too close.

“Jo, it’s–” you start to soothe, intending to send her back to bed, but she’s staggering toward you in sharp jerks, her mouth glistening, and some deep, primal urge makes you recoil from your lover’s embrace. You stumble backward, heels catching on the woman on the floor, and you land on your tailbone behind her.

Joanna follows like a moth to your flame, pitching forward, crawling, oblivious to the woman on the floor who is also moving underneath her, rolling over in a jerky, twisting, impossible way. Both women lock onto you and you can almost feel their need, their–

Hunger.

From down the hall comes a rising chorus of shouts, a crash. Someone bursts through the doors from the waiting room, one shoulder soaked with blood. From between the swinging doors, you see glimpses of chaos, hear more screams.

No. No. Not Jo. Not–

Something inside you breaks; you scramble backward, barely stifling a moan. You feel a hand tighten around your ankle and you kick it away, the tile floor slippery against your sweaty palms. Another hand grasps, scrabbles, another kick; a bloody palm print gleams on the crisp white leather toe of your sneaker.

No! No! Get out!

By some miracle you find your feet, feel yourself turning, running down the hall, deeper into the hospital. A dim part of your brain reaches for a reprimand, but you can’t make yourself stop, driven by panic, passing lines of gurneys and bodies slumped on the floor. You’re acutely aware of the thick smell of blood, drowning out the familiar antiseptic wash. You push your way through crowded halls over a chorus of groans and screams.

Out get out get out out out–

You burst through an emergency exit at the back of the hospital gasping for air, pressing your back to the weathered brick. Your heart lurches in your chest, wishing for this to end, for you to wake up in your bed after a bad dream.

A pregnancy dream , you think, barking a manic laugh into the night, recalling that your biggest fear this morning had been a little nausea and a missing red dot on the calendar. You taste hot bile and feel yourself swaying, ready to empty the meager contents of your stomach next to the dumpster, but a blinding light freezes you in its glare.

“Stop right there!”

You blink, stunned. Then you see the gun.

A figure in Army fatigues is pointing a rifle at you. The trembling of the muzzle makes you understand he’s just as scared as you are. If you get sick now, you’re a dead woman.

You raise your shaking hands in surrender. “Don’t shoot, I’m a…I’m a doctor.”

He doesn’t lower the weapon. “Are you bit?”

“I’m not–I don’t know what–”

His voice rises, panic creeping in as he gestures with the rifle, jabbing it at you. “Are you bit?!? Are you sick?”

“No!” you say, trying not to let your voice shake. “No, I’m not sick.”

He swallows hard, appearing to take this in. You close your eyes in the endless seconds between breaths, waiting for the crack of the rifle.

You open your eyes at the sound of the gun being lowered to his side.

“Ma’am,” he says shakily. “I think you should come with me.”

#the last of us #the last of us hbo #fanfic #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you

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