ryuzakemo128

[ryuzakemo128]

I have a strangely specific idea in my head of Captain John Price meeting you, a twenty something year old grad student, at the pub he frequents on leave. It's close to your uni and you let your friends drag you away from your term paper for a night to dry and de-stress. You end up dancing and mingling around the crowded space with your friends, slowly watching as they start talking to some nice looking guys and you get stuck with some finance bro who's trying to mansplain cryptocurrency and investments to you. You excuse your self to the bathroom only to escape from the agonizing conversation and find yourself up at the bar. Trying to be the responsible (and mostly sober) friend, you pay and close your friends tabs because they're drunk enough already, when you see him. Leaning over the bar, button up shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the nicer pants he still had on from his meeting earlier in the day made him standout from the usual college kids and drunk regulars. Nursing a whiskey with an orange slice and running a hand through his salt and pepper hair, you realize you've been staring when his gaze shifts in your direction and you lock eyes.

You realize you should probably say something or at least try to pretend you weren't just ogling him because he has to be the most attractive man you've ever seen. But he just silently flags over the bartender and orders you a copy of his drink. When you try to stutter out an apology because you had already closed your tab, he just hits you with the,

"I know, 's why I'm paying" in a gravelly and commanding tone that makes your hair stand on end. So you mutter a thank you and lean your back against the bar. He hands you your drink when it comes, waving off your second attempt to thank him, instead saying,

" 's dangerous for ya to be hanging around here on your own."

"Oh I'm not," you reply quickly, "I'm here with friends, they're just," you gesture to the dense crowd, "somewhere in there"

He hums, looking at you from over his shoulder, watching the way your throat bobs as you take a sip of the amber liquid. Barking out a small laugh when your face screws up at the intense, bitter taste. Finally turning to lean his back against the bar top after finishing the last of his drink, crossing his burly arms in front of his chest, looking down at you as you cough a bit.

"Not used to it huh?" He grins

"Oh be quiet" you tease, slapping him on his bicep, eyes widening at the solid block of muscle you just hit, "Not my fault uni kids only drink shitty hard seltzers"

"Uni?" he questions, one eyebrow raised

"Stuck in grad school" you confirm

"Livin' on this campus?" He asks, gesturing vaguely with a tilt of his head.

You nod your head, "Got a little place with my roommate." Shifting the focus, you look up at him, "So how about you? No offense but you don't exactly look like a college student."

He chuckles, "No, no I couldn't pass for that 'f I tried." He took a deep breath, "'ve got a flat a little ways away I stay in when 'm on leave."

"Leave?"

"When 'm off duty," he tries to explain but you just tilt you head, "Military." He explained again

"Ohhh" you respond, exchanging the simple pleasantries back and forth with him for quite some time, what's your major? where are your from? that sort of thing, until, after a brief silence,

"Boyfriend?" He asked quickly, seemingly out of nowhere. You looked up at him startled, an awkward laugh escaped your lips.

"Wouldn't you like to know," you joked, scuffing the toe of your shoe against the ground for a moment as silence filled the conversation, "...but no, I- I don't have one"

He shifted slightly, "Unless you want to count the guy who tried to explain the budgeting to me earlier tonight." You laughed

"he think you didn't know what that was or something?" He smirked

"apparently" You giggled, missing how his eyes narrowed in fondness.

Suddenly you jumped up to stand straight, "Oh I love this song!" you beamed, starting to sing along to the lyrics of what he immediately knew was "Reelin' in the years".

"So you're a Steely Dan fan huh?" He moved closer to you

"Love 'em" Your smile was infectious, "What? you're old so you have to like them."

He scoffed, "37 isn't that old."

"37? Yeah, you keep telling yourself that."

That got a full laugh out of him, a surge of pride went through your chest as he leaned his head back and ran a hand over his face. As the song faded out and the music went back to stuff you either didn't know, didn't like, or both, you sighed. Looking over at him to find him admiring you already, he strode closer to you and leaned down to mutter right in your ear,

"c'mon doll, 've got a vinyl player at my flat." He leaned back and gestured with his over his shoulder and to the door.

It was your turn to scoff, "For real? I don't even know your name!?"

Your puzzled expression warmed his heart a bit, "It's John."

"That doesn't change anything." you rolled your eyes and watched as his eyebrows raised. You held his gaze for what felt like an eternity as your resolve faltered in his presence. "Just- let me tell my friends!" you spat out, "and it's," you yelled your name to him as you turned to find your friend among the crowd. He repeated your name to himself with a smile and grabbed his old Carhartt jacket for you to wear.

A/n: I'll write more for this later teheheh

Edit: I did write more pt.2

[ryuzakemo128]

his eyes / s.r

you couldn’t resist his touch but most certainly, his eyes.

your legs wrapped around his torso, wrapping as hard as they could, they were beginning to struggle against his force.

you could feel every of his girthy member, “do you feel it, love,” simon whispered at your ear, nibbling at the flesh. “yes,” you whimpered, his mouth crashed into your mouth. he was fighting for dominance over you, your tongues were dancing with each other.

he won. you didn’t debate against him, your walls clenched at the thought. “are you close, love?” simon asked, pressing his lips at your sweaty temple. you nodded silently, he took his hand against your neck, “use your words,” he thrusted harder between every word.

“i am..please,” you hissed at the feeling he was giving you, it felt good that he was taking his anger out on you.

“open your eyes and look at me while you cum for me,” he demanded as he groaned. it was time, you can feel it, you abruptly your eyes that have been closed, enjoying the pleasure.

all you can see his pretty brown eyes, his frustrated yet soft expression gave you the confirmation you needed.

“i love you,” you moaned softly. he took those words and made his release into you, the clash of your worlds met each other.

-‘๑’- this is very short, let me know if i should continue. thank you for reading

photo creds: @yumethefrostypanda -‘๑’-

sincerely, nohoui.

[ryuzakemo128]

Ghost has been gone for months...

Six months, to be exact.

When he finally gets home it's late at night, well over midnight. All the lights are off, no sound coming from anywhere.

He wonders if you've started moving on. Wonders if your feelings have started fading.

He slips his shoes off and makes his way into your shared bedroom. You're sound asleep in your bed, on his side even though his scent has long since left those sheets.

He undresses and slides in beside you, gentle not to wake you. His head hits the pillow and he sighs as your familiar scent enters his nostrils.

He drapes an arm around you and freezes when his hand lands on your belly.

Your very swollen belly. And he feels a kick right back against his palm.

"Welcome home, Si."

[ryuzakemo128]

Ghost Metal AU

Warnings ~ Porn with plot, Degradation, Oral {M&F}, face fucking, rough sex, mating press, fingering, piercings {M}, spitting, PiV, aftercare.

Word Count ~ 3.2k

You stood at the barrier that separates the crowd and the stage, your body practically vibrating with excitement. You spent nearly eight hours outside in order to get a good spot at the barrier. Why? Because 141 was playing.

The 141.

Soap on drums, Gaz on bass, Price on guitar, and your favourite, Ghost on lead guitar and vocals.

When you first heard 141 on your friends playlist, you were immediately obsessed.The way Ghosts voice sounded was incredible. Deep and gravelly, with a clear British accent, a Manchester accent you later figured out after stalking the entire band online.

So, as soon as your friend told you that the band was coming to play in your hometown, you immediately got tickets. They cost a fortune, but if it meant being noticed by Ghost, you’d be more than willing to spend your entire life savings.

You spent all day trying to find the perfect outfit for the concert, something that would stand out but blend in. A little slutty but not too much to make the band think you were just a desperate groupie wanting to get fucked. No, well, yes. You did want to get fucked. But you didn’t want the band to assume you were a groupie. 

You could care less about the opening act. Some up and coming metal band you couldn’t even remember the name of. You just wanted 141 to come out, and while yes you knew the chances of being noticed by the band were miniscule, you still clung to a sliver of hope that sat in the forefront of your mind. 

Finally, after what felt like forever, the stage lights lit up, the crowd filling with screams and shouts, your own scream following along, just as loud, if not, slightly louder.

All of the band except Ghost was on stage, and then you heard loud thudding. Like loud, slow footsteps, the crowd eerily silent in anticipation, before a final stage light lit up, and Ghost was right in fucking front of you. 

He was huge. He had these black thick looking boots that were intimidating but didn’t actually add to his height. He was wearing these leather pants that weren’t skin tight but his thighs were so muscular the pants hugged them deliciously, a chunky belt with spikes on it. His chest was bare, and he had some scars on his chest, served in the military, you remember. The 141 was made entirely up of military friends who all got honourably discharged. When your eyes finally flittered up to Ghost’s face, they widened as you noticed Ghost’s eyes on you, wolfish smirk gracing his lips. Your heart practically lept into your throat, the beat of it quickening drastically.

“How are we doing tonight?” Ghost asked into the microphone in front of him, finally taking his eyes off you. The crowd screamed enthusiastically in response to his question. But then, you heard the telltale sound of Soap hitting his drumsticks together three times, indicating the start of the concert.

Throughout the concert, you kept making eye contact with Ghost, everytime it happened, your stomach twisted in excitement. The first few times it happened, you assumed it was pure coincidence, you convinced yourself of that. But when Ghost looked over at you for the fifth time of the night and winked, you clocked that it was no coincidence. That Ghost had actually taken interest in you. 

As the final song finishes, you can’t help the disappointment that surges within your chest, but it’s quickly extinguished when Ghost looks down at you once more, gesturing his head to backstage, and you feel your skimpy panties become rapidly damp at the anticipation for what would happen when you went backstage. 

Once the crowd had filtered out enough that you could move over to the backstage area, you saw three burly men whom you assumed were bodyguards, and a crowd of mostly women, all in scantily clad clothing.

You managed to push forward to where the bodyguards were standing, and your brows furrow when they don't let you pass. “Um, Ghost asked me to come back here?” you squeaked, to which the bodyguards chuckled mockingly.

“Oh, really?” One of the bodyguards spoke up, opening his mouth to say something mocking.

“Yes, really.” A deep voice spoke from behind the bodyguards, clearly startling them. And a bunch of the women beside you let out screams when Ghost stepped forward, his chest and abs still glistening with sweat. “Come on, sweetheart. You’re coming with me” he spoke, holding a hand out towards you.

Your brain blue screened for a moment, before you took his hand, some of the women and even men beside and behind you were whining and protesting. Begging Ghost to take them backstage instead of you. It lit a fire of confidence within you.

“Holy shit” you whispered as Ghost pulled you through the backstage area, and he chuckled at your awe. 

“You that impressed, swee’eart?” Ghost asked, and you nodded dumbly, too starstruck to utter another word.

When Ghost pulled you into the green room, your eyes filled with further awe. The room smelled distinctly of whatever cologne Ghost used, cigarettes, and slightly of leather. 

“Saw you staring at me, lovie” Ghost rumbled from behind you, and you turned, looking up at him, lashes fluttering a little. 

“Well ‘m sure that there was plenty of people staring at you, kinda the point of a concert. Stare at a bunch of sweaty guys for two and a half hours” you quipped, which seemed to be the right thing to say, because Ghost smiled in amusement down at you. 

“You make a fair point, lovie. But, you were the only one out there staring at me that caught my attention” Ghost hummed. Reaching up and gliding his thumb up your jaw, successfully running a shiver down your spine. 

You knew that Ghost wasn’t one to sleep with groupies, that was more Soap and sometimes Gaz’s area. Price had said something in an interview about Soap and Gaz being younger, him and Ghost being older so they didn’t really need to sleep around a lot.

“Can practically hear you thinking, love. You wondering why I’m choosing to sleep with you, even though I don't normally sleep with groupies?” Ghost asked.

“I’m not a groupie,” you protested stubbornly, crossing your arms. “And…maybe, yeah. I am curious why you chose me to sleep with” you murmured.

“I’m sorry for my assumption, sweet thing. But to answer your question, I picked you because I could tell there was something different about you” Ghost hummed, raising a brow when you burst into giggles. “What’s got you giggling like a madwoman?” He asked. 

“It’s like I’m in some wattpad story, reading a book in the crowd and you notice me because you can tell there's something different about me” you joke, making yourself giggle harder. 

“Watt…pad?” Ghost asked.

“Forget it, can we just get on to the fucking part, now? My panties are soaked” you say, which makes Ghost smile and lean down slightly, sliding his hand up your thigh under your skirt and to the skimpy thong you had on, his fingers gliding against the soaked gusset of your panties, making you whine from the too little stimulation it gave you. Ghost’s lips met yours, sloppy, messy, but utterly brain numbing in the best way possible. There was a slight clack of teeth as you caught up and responded to the kiss. Your tongues meet and the disgustingly wet sounds filled the green room.

“Christ, you are soaked f’me, aren’t you” Ghost growled as he pulled away from the kiss, he trails his fingers back up and grazing the waistband of your thong, before they slide under the waistband and swipe them through your folds, pussy drooling with need. 

“Uh huh” you whine, nodding your head as your hands grasp Ghost’s muscular biceps to stabilise yourself. Your knees slightly shaky, before you look up at him. “C-Can i suck your dick?” You asked hopefully, making Ghost smile smugly, and he nodded, unbuckling the chunky belt that held up his pants, your eyes trained on his rough, calloused fingers. They were so fucking thick that one could probably amount to two of your own. 

You dropped to your knees, you’d regret that move in the morning when you woke up with a bruise on each knee, but at the moment, you blocked out the pain as Ghost finally got the belt open, tugging his black boxer briefs down just enough for his thick and heavy cock to slap up against his pelvis, then it bobs in front of your face a little. Almost hypnotising you.

Ghost’s cock was long, you expected it to be due to his tall stature, it was around eight inches long, relatively thick too, it was the biggest you’ve ever taken, and you were slightly worried for your throat, but that would be tomorrow's worry. Your brain seemed to finally process the silver glinting along his cock, you’d heard about that piercing. Jason’s ladder? No, Jacob’s ladder. 

There were four bars running up his cock, he was cut, with a reddish tip, you assume he must’ve been hard for a while, and the precum that was oozing from his tip made your mouth water. You were also surprised at the neatly groomed dirty blonde pubic hair at the base of his cock. Ghost struck you as an untamed jungle kind of guy.

“You gonna do something or just keep starin’?” Ghost rumbled above you, effectively snapping you out of your thoughts. 

You lean forward, looking up at Ghost through your lashes as you licked his tip in short, repetitive strokes, getting a taste for the pre that was drooling slowly from his slit. It was slightly bitter, you assumed from Ghost smoking. Your eyes land on the veins going up the underside of his cock, and you trace the thickest vein up to the tip, then, you slowly take him deeper and deeper into your mouth. Swallowing around him to suppress a gag.

“Fuck, lovie. You’re a natural, huh? Taking my cock so well” Ghost groaned, his large right hand going to the crown of your head. Encouraging you to take more of him. Your tongue gliding over the cold silver balls, sending a shiver down the guitarist's spine.

You moan around his cock as you take him deeper, which makes Ghost moan, rough and deep. You wanted to hear more, so you suppressed another gag and took him down your throat. Your eyes threaten to flutter shut, but you force them to stay open, your eyes trailing from Ghost’s deliciously thick, dirty blonde happy trail to his pleasure filled face. 

“Good fucking girl” Ghost moaned deeply, “touch yourself for me. Rub that little clit of yours while you take my fat cock down your throat” he demanded, making him whine in need, but you listen. You hastily shove a hand down the front of your skirt, into your panties. You dip your fingers to your hole to wet your fingertips, before dragging them back up to circle your clit. A pathetic whine vibrating around Ghost’s cock. 

“That’s it, just like that. Sucking my cock like you were made for it” Ghost growled, his hips thrusting into your mouth. “Gonna let me fuck your face? Let me use your mouth like you’re nothing but a warm hole for me to use?” he asked, and you pulled off his cock, wiping the drool from your chin. 

“Please” you beg, slightly surprised at how raspy your voice had already become. But you didn’t have time to dwell on it as your mouth was full of cock again. Ghost thrusted his hips repetitively, groaning with almost every thrust. 

You felt saliva drip down your chin, as well as Ghost’s balls hitting the underside of your chin with each thrust forward. Your moans getting more frequent around Ghost’s cock as you get closer to coming. Your fingers rubbing clumsy circles over your clit.

A loud gasp falls from your lips as Ghost suddenly pulls his cock free from your mouth and you get pulled to your feet. Your eyes fill with visible confusion as you take your fingers out of your panties, only for Ghost to grab your wrist and lift your hand to take the digits wet with the evidence of your desire into his mouth.

Your thighs clenched together at the feeling of his tongue laving over your fingers, watching Ghost’s eyes threaten to roll back from the taste of you. Your fingers once wet with your arousal, now wet with his saliva. 

“God, I need to eat your pretty little pussy,” Ghost groaned, lifting you with ease and setting you down on the couch in the green room. He kneels down in front of you, and his thick fingers tug your skirt down, then he grasps the waistband of your thong and moves it upwards. 

You give Ghost a confused look before you moan as the tightened fabric of your thong grinds against your clit. Your hole clenching in need. “Please!” you beg, voice whiny and pathetic to your own ears, although you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. 

“Please what?” Ghost asked, his eyes having a mischievous glint to them. “You need to be specific with what you’re asking for,” he tells you, causing your cheeks to redden.

“Please…eat my pussy” you murmur, pouting down at him. Your words making Ghost break out into a wolfish grin. 

He lowers his head, the hands holding the waistband of your thong pull it down. They then grab your thighs, spreading them wide. 

Ghost spreads your folds with his index and middle finger, and leans forward, licking a broad stripe up your cunt to get a taste. Tangy, sweet, and slightly salty. It makes his mouth water, so much so that he pulls away for a moment to spit directly on your clit, which makes your thighs twitch, and a guttural groan comes from you. 

Your hands reach down and tangle in his blonde hair, you squeak when Ghost thrusts his tongue into your hole, then drags his tongue up to circle your sensitive and swollen clit. 

“You taste so fucking good, baby” Ghost groaned, burying his face further into your cunt. His mouth sucks on your folds, tongue thrusts inside you, licks his tongue over your clit. It all felt like too much and yet not enough at the same time. 

“G-Ghost, please! Fingers, need y’fingers so bad” you whine, your brain getting desperate and horny “wanna be full of your fingers! Please please please!” You beg, gasping sweetly when Ghost finally pushes two of his thick fingers inside you. 

The burn from the stretch of his stupidly big fingers was there, but the pleasure from his fingers curling up and stroking your g-spot overpowered it immensely. Ghost wasn’t afraid to be rough with his fingers, the wet squelching sounds of your pussy reacting to his touch made you blush, but it also made your clit throb in his mouth and walls clench around his fingers. 

You let out a frustrated whine as Ghost slows his fingers and tongue to a stop, before pulling away fully and standing up, looking down at you. 

“Need to feel you come on my cock, baby” Ghost growled, his hands smoothing up and down your thighs and hips as he spoke. You nodded your head, lips parting. 

“‘M on birth control,” you murmured, desperate to feel the piercings on his cock against your walls. “I promise, I’m on birth control,” you said, noting the suspicion in Ghost’s eyes. He had every reason to be suspicious. People try to baby trap celebrities all the time. 

“I’m gonna trust you, sweet girl, but tomorrow I’m gonna take you out to breakfast and also to get a plan B pill. Just in case” Ghost said softly, moving some of your sweat-damp hair from your forehead. 

You nodded in agreement, trying to brush off the breakfast comment, you weren’t convinced that you were that special.

Ghost lined himself up with your entrance, hooking your legs over his shoulders, making you slouch slightly on the couch. 

“Alright” Ghost whispered, slowly starting to thrust into your cunt “big stretch, baby” he drawled out, relishing in the gasps and whimpers of pleasure you gave him as his fat cock filled you, a deep moan ripping from your chest as his tip kissed your cervix. 

“So fucking big” you gasped, your nails digging into his back, panting a few times before sighing in ecstasy, becoming putty in Ghost’s arms. “Piercings feel so…so good” you whisper, eyes fluttering. The silver balls brushed up against your wall, making you whine, legs twitching on Ghost’s shoulders. 

“Atta girl, taking my cock to the hilt like you were made for it” Ghost groaned, cradling the back of your head with his large hand to make sure you wouldn’t hit your head awkwardly on the firm back of the couch. “You feel so good around me, so fucking tight and wet” he moaned. 

You gasped and clawed at Ghost’s back as he started thrusting. His thrusts getting faster and rougher with each jerk of his hips. Your pussy was sopping wet, every thrust caused a wet sound to emit from your hole.

Your brows furrowed in confusion when Ghost paused for a moment, a squeal coming from you as he practically folded you in half. Your eyes roll back with another gasp, then squeal as Ghosts thrusts get all that more intense. 

“Ghost-I-oh my God!” You cried out, frantically grabbing at his shoulder blades in pleasure. 

“Not Ghost, baby. Simon, use my name. Need to hear you scream my fucking name” Ghost growled, nipping at your neck.

“S-Simon!” You cried out, your eyes rolling back, your hips bucking up, which in turn made sparks of pleasure shoot up your spine. 

“That’s it” Ghost chuckled, thrusting deeply and harshly “you’re doing so well, so fucking well” he groaned, his balls slapping against your ass which each thrust forward. 

“My clit” you beg “please! Please rub my clit. So close, so so close!” you keened.

Ghost reached between you and rubbed your nub in small quick circles with his thumb, your pussy spasming around his cock. “Simon!” You screamed, your orgasm washing over you like a tsunami, starting in your cunt, and spreading like wildfire up your body and even through your fingertips. 

“Fuck!” Ghost cursed, his brows knitting together as his thrusts get desperate and sloppy “gonna fucking come, gonna come, fuck!” he growled, burying his cock to the hilt inside your still sensitive pussy, his seed coating your walls. Ghost thrusted a few times before pulling out, which in turn made you whine from overstimulation, grimacing at the feeling of Ghost’s cum dripping from your pussy.

“Here we go” Ghost murmured, cleaning up your pussy with some tissues he got from the coffee table in the room. His eyes flickering over your naked body, admiration in his eyes.

“Hardest i’ve ever come in my life” you giggled, smiling dumbly up at Ghost, who merely chuckles and shakes his head, kissing you gently.

Once you were tidied up, clit still throbbing a little, Ghost pulls you to lie down on top of him on the couch. his large hand stroking your spine gently, occasionally pressing kisses to your hairline while he praised you, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

[ryuzakemo128]

thee dumbest brain hairball but it makes me laugh so fuck it

no real cw except that it's unedited and with an abrupt-ass ending

something something gaz gets annoyed at ghost and decides to pull a prank on him while the lieutenant's out in the field. he goes to ghost's flat, disables the boobytraps attached to the back window, and hauls in his bag of supplies. over the course of a night, he completely redecorates ghost's bathroom in a way that gaz knows in ghost will either be amused by or despise passionately. the rest of the place might be sparse, with plain white walls and very little furniture, but his small bathroom is an explosion of color and maximalism.

gaz had really hit the jackpot when he found the plethora of hello kitty themed bathroom supplies. everything is pink and purple and bright, covered with the cute, mouthless face of the sweet white cat herself. from the shower curtain to the trash can to the hand towels to the fuzzy toilet seat cover- it's like a sanrio store exploded in here. gaz even put down some bubblegum pink paint on the walls and hung up a little bathroom cupboard that he immediately filled with bubble bath bottles, scented hand lotions, and a hello kitty tissue box.

gaz slips out into the night completely undetected, resetting the trap before he leaves. he giggles to himself the whole way home, imagining ghost coming home after a long mission, trudging his way through that drab house, dropping off heavy bags and headed to the toilet to take a piss, only to stumble into a pink cutesy nightmare.

except when ghost gets back, he makes no indication anything's different or wrong. gaz could kick himself, really. did he really expect ghost of all people to admit he'd been broken into? that his toilet paper had little hearts stamped into it? he realizes now, in hindsight, that it was never going to have the payoff he wanted, but gaz figures he can still make himself laugh by imagining his lieutenant brushing his teeth in a pink bathroom and putting the toothbrush in the hello kitty cup by the sink, and that's payoff enough for him.

however- ghost saw the cctv footage of gaz breaking in. he'd already known there was some fuckery afoot, but when he came home and searched the house, he'd been entirely unprepared for the end results of gaz's little makeover project. the bathroom feels like stepping through a portal into a different house, the way it's decorated and personalized, even though the personalization isn't for him, particularly. it made him laugh, long and loud, and it only intensified with the thought 'well why the fuck should i change it? i don't care that much, it'd be a waste of paint and effort.'

so he keeps it. leaves the fuzzy toilet seat cover on and the cheerful pink shower curtain up. there's something about the stark contrast to the rest of his dreary residence that just makes him smirk whenever he passes it by. when the lightbulb burns out, he finds himself drawn to getting one with a softer, pinker hue as a replacement. if he purchases a little hello kitty throw rug that he'd stumbled across while out at the shops, that's his business and no one else's.

cut to months later, when he's brought you home from the pub for the fucking of your life. the two of you are panting, covered in sweat and other bodily fluids, feeling the warm afterglow of a mind blowing series of orgasms. he'd given you the hastiest tour of his place while the two of you stripped, leaving a trail of clothes to the bedroom- a quick point and grunt. kitchen. livin' room. bathroom. c'mere, this way to the bedroom.

on wobbly knees you wander down the hall to the door he'd told you was the bathroom, and when you push the door open and flip on the light a shocked laugh bursts out of you with such force that it nearly knocks you flat on your ass. this man sleeps and fucks on a mattress set directly on the floor, but he's got a hello kitty reed diffuser in his bathroom?

"there a problem?" your hookup asks, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his massive chest, skull printed balaclava still on his face. he doesn't sound defensive, necessarily, but rather carefully neutral.

"no, no." you say, wiping a mirthful tear from your eye. "i like your decorating choices. you gonna do the living room in the same theme or something different?"

he huffs out a laugh, rolling his eyes and strolling to the kitchen to make coffee as you joke after him.

"shocked you're not more of a kuromi guy, honestly." you tease after him down the hallway.

[ryuzakemo128]

pam grier as aretha in bucktown (1975).

[ryuzakemo128]

Video Games

• mamthlapinatapai

(n.) a look shared by two people, each wishing that the other would initiate something they both desire but which neither wants to begin

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

Pairings :

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem! Reader

CW: LT. x SGT. FEM READER, ALCOHOL MENTIONS, YEARNING, SLIGHT ANGST, british people.

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

Simon had no idea what to do when his sargeant decided to start acting the way she was at the small pub after their last mission. Head shamelessly landed against his shoulder, he clenched his jaw at the feeling…a scowl now on his half covered face as he took a large swig of his beer…but why didn’t he just move you?

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

So here they were, almost identical to that night to every night they spent in this familiar setting..

His eyes practically glued to you silently as he watched you and Kyle play billiards from the bar, Johnny loudly cheering you on as you struck the cue ball for a drunken trick shot, failing miserably hitting a scratch. You chugged your pint of beer angrily complaining between sips about how “uneven” the table was as Gaz argued back about you being a sore loser. Price chuckling at the scene from beside Simon leaning against the bar top uncomfortably.

It was like clockwork, every single time you got back from a mission you’d all spend the evening on one of your off days on base at a local pub. Letting loose and enjoying yourselves before the next mission, returning back to the bloodshed and chaos. He wished on those nights he could ignore how your eyes would linger on him, how you’d always somehow end up absolutely wasted drunk.

Everytime getting closer and closer to him, last trip you’d practically been glued to his shoulder towards the end of the night. Half asleep, he acted angry, acted as if he hated the close proximity..When all he did was crave it, oh how wrong it felt to feel like this about his subordinate..The big bad Lieutenant Riley…secretly smitten over his Sargeant, what a joke.

So when the game ends, and you grumble something about how unfair it was, waltzing over to Simon to complain. Throwing your hands around as you expressed the many reasons you were upset. He looked blankly back at you, your eyes now focused on his, brows furrowed slightly as you noticed his expression from his half pulled up balaclava.

“Why are you always like this..” You grimmaced, cheeks flushed from the alcohol as you leaned across from him against the bar top. Price and Kate were far too distracted in their own conversation to even see the drunk woman making a fool of herself to her lieutenant once again. “Y’know…? All brooding and stuff…It scares off all the ladies..!”

You joked, words slurring as you widened your eyes lazily smirking as you decided to tease him further. Not taking the hint to quit at his unimpressed scowl from the exposed portion of his face. “Wait are you single LT…?”

“Hope So!”

Before he even had a chance to respond your words had cut him off. Breaking his blank stare as his eyes widened a smidgen from behind the cloth, going back to normal almost instantly as he scoffed annoyed. “Bloody hell woman, you’re pissed.” He grumbled taking a large gulp of his drink. Glancing at you out of his peripherals, practically side eyeing you.

Trying to keep his standoffish facade best he could , his thoughts running buck wild at your slurred words. ‘What did you mean? What does “Hope not!” even mean? Were you genuinely just that stupid..? Or just incredibly hammered..’

Yeah that was it you had no clue what you were saying. Like everytime they went to the pub, you got hammered and flirted shamelessly and forgot your actions by the next day. He always took you back to your barracks, you woke up alone and hungover stumbling into whatever meeting they had at base, tired and complaining about your agonizing headache.

So when the night ends and as he carried you in his big arms, thrown slumped over his shoulder back to your room at base, like always your eyes glimmered in hope that he’d maybe stay. Brows always furrowed as you, tucked in your bed in unspoken care, pouting at the silent man when darkness consumed you room as he gently shut the door, back turned to you. Only this time he muttered an almost impossible to make out sentence, his voice low and gruff as he looked back at you from behind the mask, eyes uncharacteristically soft.

“G’night ____..”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

i’m leaving room for a pt.2 👅

[ryuzakemo128]

SZA SEEK & DESTROY, 2023

[ryuzakemo128]

every breath you take

joel miller x reader

summary: jackson was perfect for the most part until it wasn’t, you get really worried when Joel and Tommy go out on patrol and never come back

a/n: angstyy, this is sorta a “rewrite” if you will, let me know if y’all want a part ii…

joel miller masterlist

The warm glow of the lanterns strung above the Jackson town square created a magical ambiance, the laughter and music of the town dance filling the crisp night air. I was in Joel’s arms, my hand resting gently on his shoulder as we swayed to the melody. Despite the crowd, it felt like we were the only two there, lost in our own little world. Joel’s rugged charm and quiet confidence had drawn me in months ago, and every moment since had only strengthened my feelings for him.

I caught the soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips, a rare sight that made my heart flutter. Joel was complicated—worn by the weight of his past—but with me, he seemed to allow himself fleeting moments of peace.

Suddenly, the music was interrupted by a loud commotion. My gaze shifted to the edge of the dance floor, where Ellie and Dina stood, their smiles replaced by tense expressions. A man was shouting, his words venomous and cutting through the cheerful atmosphere like a knife.

“That’s just what we need, another loud mouthed d*ke,” he spat, his tone laced with hate.

I felt Joel stiffen beside me, his entire body tensing. I knew that look, that spark of protective anger that flared in his eyes. Before I could say anything, he was already moving toward the source of the disturbance.

“Joel, wait—” I called after him, but he didn’t stop.

By the time he reached the man, Ellie was already closing in, her hands clenched into fists. Joel stepped between them, shoving the man back firmly but not violently, creating space before Ellie could get any closer.

“Get the hell out of here,” Joel growled, his voice low and commanding.

“Get your hands off me” The man stumbled but didn’t retreat entirely, glaring at Joel with defiance.

“You alright kiddo?” Joel asked walking toward Ellie.

“What is wrong with you?” Ellie demanded, her voice sharp as she fixed Joel with a glare.

“He had no right,” Joel replied, his tone firm but calm.

“And you do?” Ellie shot back, her anger cutting through the air. “I don’t need your fucking help, Joel”

Joel faltered for a moment, his expression hard to read. I could see the tension in his jaw, the quiet battle between his need to protect Ellie and the reality that she didn’t want him to.

Without another word, he turned and walked away, his shoulders stiff with frustration. I hesitated, glancing back at Ellie, who was still fuming, before deciding to follow him.

I found Joel near the outskirts of the square, his back to me as he stared out into the dark horizon.

“Hey, You okay?” I asked softly, stepping beside him.

Joel didn’t look at me right away, his gaze fixed on the distance. “She don’t need me no more,” he said finally, his voice tinged with sadness.

“That’s not true,” I replied, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “But Joel… Ellie could’ve handled Seth.”

He turned to look at me then, his expression a mix of frustration and vulnerability. “She shouldn’t have to,” he muttered.

“I know,” I said, my voice steady. “But sometimes protecting someone means letting them handle things their way.”

He nodded slowly, my words sinking in. The two of us stood there in silence for a moment, the distant sounds of the dance continuing behind us. I laced my fingers with his, offering silent reassurance.

Joel didn’t look at me right away, his gaze fixed on the distance. “She still hates me for what I did,” he said finally, his voice low and heavy.

“She doesn’t hate you,” I replied, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

“She’s got every reason to,” he muttered. “I lied to her. Took away her choice. It ain’t something you just forgive.”

I sighed, squeezing his arm gently. “Maybe not, but she’s still here. That means something.”

Joel turned to look at me then, his expression a mix of frustration and vulnerability. “It’s hard watchin’ her hate me when all I wanna do is protect her.”

We stood there in silence for a moment, the distant sounds of the dance continuing behind us. I laced my fingers with his, offering silent reassurance.

Whatever storm raged inside Joel—whatever distance still lingered between him and Ellie—I was determined to help him navigate it. We’d made it this far together, as a family. I wasn’t about to give up now.

Whatever storm raged inside Joel, I was determined to weather it with him. Together.

The house was quiet, save for the faint creak of the old wooden floor beneath my feet as I moved through the kitchen. I’d been tidying up, distracting myself from the heaviness of the night’s events. The front porch window was open, letting in the cool night air, and through it, I could hear the soft, familiar strumming of Joel’s guitar.

I paused for a moment, leaning on the counter and letting the sound wash over me. There was something about the way Joel played—steady, thoughtful, like every note carried a piece of him. It always managed to soothe my mind, no matter how tense things felt.

But then, just faintly, I caught the sound of footsteps on the porch. My brow furrowed as I turned toward the window. Joel’s playing had stopped abruptly.

Peeking out, I saw Ellie standing there, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She looked hesitant, like she’d been pacing before finally working up the nerve to stop. I stayed inside, watching quietly as Joel set the guitar down and stood to face her.

Their voices were low, too quiet to make out, but I could see the tension in their stances. Joel stood still, his hands resting on his hips, while Ellie shifted from foot to foot, her face a mix of frustration and something else—something softer.

I let them be. Whatever they were talking about wasn’t for me to interrupt.

A while later, after finishing up in the kitchen, I climbed into bed. Joel still hadn’t come up, but I figured he needed time to think. He always did after heavy conversations, especially when it came to Ellie.

When I heard the soft creak of the door opening, I looked up. Joel stood there, framed by the dim light from the hallway. He didn’t step in right away, just lingered in the doorway like he wasn’t sure if he should. His shoulders were slumped, and the way he avoided my eyes told me everything before he even said a word.

“You okay?” I asked, keeping my voice soft.

He finally closed the door behind him and nodded, but it was the kind of nod that didn’t mean much. “Ellie stopped by,” he said after a moment, his voice quiet.

I nod as I sat up slightly, resting my weight on my elbows.

Joel let out a slow breath, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. “She said… she’ll try.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, heavy with meaning.

I reached out, placing my hand on his back. “That’s something,” I said softly.

He nodded, his gaze fixed on the floor. “Yeah. It is.”

I nodded, though the heaviness in his tone left an ache in my chest. Joel wasn’t one to open up easily, not about things that mattered, but I’d learned to read him over time. The tightness in his jaw, the way his hands hung at his sides like they didn’t know what to do with themselves—he was carrying too much again.

I didn’t ask him to explain. He would, if and when he was ready. Instead, I patted the space next to me on the bed.

“Come here,” I said quietly.

Joel turned then, finally meeting my eyes. There was a hint of relief there, though it was guarded, like he didn’t quite dare to hope. I gave him a small smile, sliding closer to wrap my arms around him.

“She loves you, Joel,” I murmured. “She’s just trying to figure out how to deal with it all.”

He rested his forehead against mine, his voice barely above a whisper. “I hope you’re right.”

I leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw before settling my head against his chest. His hand slid up my back, warm and steady, and I felt the tension in his body start to melt away.

We didn’t need words tonight. The quiet was enough, his presence beside me enough. As his breathing slowed and evened out, I brushed my fingers through his hair absently, watching him fall asleep.

It wasn’t long before my own eyelids grew heavy, and I let myself drift off, safe in the warmth of his arms. For this moment, at least, the world outside didn’t matter.

The faint sound of boots on the wooden floor stirred me from sleep. At first, I didn’t move, my body still heavy with the warmth of the blankets and the lingering pull of dreams. But when I heard the soft creak of the bedroom door opening, I blinked my eyes open to see Joel standing in the dim light of dawn, his broad frame silhouetted against the faint glow coming through the window.

“Joel?” I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep. I pushed myself up onto one elbow, squinting at him. “What time is it?”

“Early,” he said quietly, his voice low and steady, the way it always was when he was trying not to wake me fully. But there was something in his tone—something careful.

“What’s going on?” I asked, sitting up fully now.

“Maria’s sendin’ me and Tommy out. Couple folks said they heard infected near the ski lodge, just outside the fences.”

That woke me up completely. I sat up straighter, the blankets pooling around my waist. “What kind of reports?”

“Couple folks said they heard ‘em,” Joel said with a shrug. “Probably nothin’, but we don’t want to take chances.”

I frowned, rubbing at my eyes before meeting his gaze. “Then let me go with you.”

Joel shook his head immediately, stepping closer to the bed. “Ain’t no need for that, y/n. Me and Tommy can handle it.”

“It’s not about whether you can handle it,” I argued, my voice sharper now. “If there’s a group of infected, wouldn’t it be better to have more people out there? Just in case?”

Joel sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He reached out to rest a hand on my knee, his touch warm and familiar. “It’s not gonna turn into somethin’ bigger. We’ll be back before you even start to worry.”

I gave him a look, folding my arms. “You know I’m going to worry the second you walk out that door, right?”

He gave me a faint smile, the kind that softened the hard edges of his face. “I know. But you don’t need to be out there every time somethin’ like this comes up. You deserve a night off, y/n.”

I huffed, leaning back against the headboard. “Fine. But you’d better come back in one piece, or I’m dragging you and Tommy back here myself.”

Joel chuckled, leaning over to press a kiss to my lips. “I’ll be back, darlin’. You don’t gotta worry about that.”

I watched as he stood, grabbing his gear and slinging his rifle over his shoulder. He paused in the doorway, glancing back at me with that faint, knowing smile.

“Get some rest. I’ll see you soon.”

I studied his face, trying to decide if I should push back, but the way he looked at me—steady and reassuring—made me stop. He always had a way of making me believe him, even when I didn’t want to.

“I love you,” I said quietly, the words slipping out without much thought.

Joel paused, turning back to look at me. His expression softened, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. “I love you too, y/n.”

I watched as he stepped into the hallway, his boots creaking on the wooden floor. The door closed a moment later, the sound faint but final.

I laid back down, staring up at the ceiling, trying to shake the unease in my chest. I’d said “I love you” a hundred times before, but something about this time felt different—like I hadn’t realized it might be the last.

And with that, he was gone, the door creaking shut behind him. I laid back down, staring up at the ceiling as the quiet settled back over the house.

Joel always came back—but that didn’t stop the unease from sitting heavy in my chest as I listened to the distant sound of his boots fade into the night.

The cold bit through my gloves as I fastened the strap of my pack. Patrols were usually dull—staring into a white wasteland of nothing and praying it stayed that way. But something about the morning felt… off. The sky was too heavy, and the wind howled like it knew something I didn’t.

“Y/n!” Jesse’s voice cut through the noise as he jogged toward me, snow crunching beneath his boots. His breath puffed white in the air, and his expression was tighter than usual. “You ready? We’re up for the lookout.”

I pulled my hood tighter and nodded. “Tommy and Joel are still there, right?”

“Supposed to be,” he said, his tone clipped. “Let’s go check in and swap shifts.”

We trudged through the snow, the trees around us bending under the weight of frost. Jesse kept the conversation light—something about a stupid bet with Manny—but I could see the same unease in his eyes that I felt in my gut.

When we reached the lookout, my stomach dropped.

Empty.

The door hung ajar, snow drifting into the cabin like it owned the place. No sign of Tommy. No sign of Joel.

“This isn’t right,” I muttered, scanning the room. “They wouldn’t just leave.”

Jesse stepped in, jaw tight as he swept his flashlight across the interior. Supplies were scattered, but nothing screamed fight. No blood, no overturned furniture. Just… absence.

“They didn’t radio in,” Jesse said under his breath, almost to himself.

“What now?” I asked, heart thudding harder.

The wind howled outside the tower as I adjusted my scarf, pulling it tighter around my neck. Jessie sat across from me, fiddling with the straps on his rifle, his expression tight with concern. We’d been here for hours, long past the point when Joel and Tommy were supposed to relieve us.

“Something’s wrong,” I said, my voice tense, glancing out the window at the snowstorm swirling outside. The visibility was getting worse by the minute, and my chest tightened with worry. Joel wasn’t one to miss a patrol, not without a damn good reason.

Jessie stood, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. “We should head out. Let Ellie and Dina know.”

I didn’t argue. The unease in my gut had been growing since the first hour they were overdue, and sitting around wasn’t going to do us any good. Grabbing my gear, I followed Jessie out into the biting cold, where our horses were waiting just outside the tower.

Ranger, my chestnut gelding, pawed at the snow anxiously as I mounted up, his breath visible in the freezing air. I leaned down to pat his neck, trying to calm both of us. “C’mon, boy. Let’s go.”

We rode back to where Ellie and Dina were as quickly as the storm would allow, the snow biting at my face and stinging my eyes. By the time we reached the stables, I was frozen to the bone, but that didn’t matter. I needed to find Joel.

Ellie and Dina were in the Eugene Linden's hideout. They looked up the moment Jessie and I burst in, snow clinging to our clothes.

“Why aren’t you at the fucking look out?” Dina asked, her brows furrowing.

“Tommy and Joel never showed up,” Jessie said, cutting straight to the point.

“What?,” Ellie asked as she stood up.

Dinas expression immediately serious. “How late are we talking?”

“Hours,” I said, my voice tight as I brushed the snow from my jacket. “We waited as long as we could, but… something’s not right.”

Ellie’s jaw tightened, and she grabbed her gear without hesitation. “Then we go find them.”

The four of us were out the door in minutes, the urgency unspoken but understood. We saddled up and split to cover more ground.

Ranger’s hooves crunched through the snow as I urged him forward, my eyes scanning the white expanse for any sign of Joel or Tommy. The storm was relentless, the wind cutting through my layers and making it harder to see.

My chest felt heavy, the cold sinking into my bones as my mind raced with worst-case scenarios. Joel wasn’t invincible, no matter how much I wanted to believe he was. If something had happened out here… I shook the thought away.

We pressed on, the snowstorm making the search feel endless. Every second that passed without finding them made my heart pound harder. Joel was out there somewhere, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong.

“C’mon, Joel,” I muttered under my breath, gripping Ranger’s reins tighter. “Where are you?”

The storm raged on, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t stopping until I found him. Until I brought him back.

[ryuzakemo128]

If I Can't, No One Can - 141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative Reader Drabble List Warnings: MDNI and mostly Angst Author's Note: Made a list because I am a fiend for organization! I'm not gonna lie, I'm low-key a masochist (and not even the fun kind really) so you will all suffer with me!

The Beginning of the End

Endings Things

Still Not Enough

Thanks for the Ticket

Thanks for the Help

Thanks for Lunch

Thanks for the Ride

A Phone Call

The Contract

Nikolai

Joint Mission

Not Your Savior

Debrief 1

Say the Word

Debrief 2

Reply All

Debrief 3

"Punishment"

More probably...

[ryuzakemo128]

breaking walls

qz!joel miller x reader

summary: y/n couldn’t hide her true feelings for joel anymore after finding peace in each other for so long

joel miller masterlist

The quarantine zone was a place where life was as unpredictable as the weather—people fought for scraps, made deals in the shadows, and tried to carve out some semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos. I had learned how to survive in the QZ, how to navigate the dangerous, grim reality. But there was one part of my life that I couldn’t quite keep under control: Joel Miller.

Joel was a gruff, no-nonsense man with a hard exterior, the kind of guy who kept his emotions buried so deep it was hard to tell where the man ended and the walls he’d built around himself began. I’d known him for a while, and what started as an occasional exchange of favors—a little help with some scrounged goods, a quiet drink shared at the local bar—had evolved into something… more.

But not too much more.

We’d never put a label on it, but there was something between us. We were friends… with benefits. That was how it worked, and it was enough, I told herself. I didn’t need more, especially not with the world we lived in. I’d settled into the role, knowing full well what I was getting into. No attachments. No expectations.

At least, that was the plan.

The day I walked into Joel’s rundown apartment, something felt different. It had been a long, rough week, and I had hoped the usual exchange of heated glances and quiet, comforting moments would help ease the tension. But as soon as I stepped through the door, Joel was already there—waiting. His usual gruff demeanor was softened by something else, something I couldn’t place. His eyes met me with an intensity that made my heart skip.

Before I could even say a word, he was on me. His lips crushed against mine, urgent, desperate. I was taken off guard, but I responded, my hands finding his chest, pulling him closer. His grip tightened, like he was trying to pull me into him, to fuse our bodies together. It was raw, intense—a passion that surprised me.

But even as I kissed him back, something inside me recoiled.

This was never supposed to happen.

I pulled away, breathless, my fingers still tangled in his shirt. I looked up at him, my eyes searching his face for any sign of understanding.

“Joel…” I began, but my voice faltered.

He reached for me again, his lips brushing my cheek, but I pulled back, stepping out of his grasp.

“No,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I can’t keep doing this.”

His expression shifted to something unreadable, his brow furrowing slightly, but his body tensed, like he was bracing for something.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice rough, a little confused.

I took a step back, my heart pounding. “I can’t keep pretending this doesn’t mean something. I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel something for you. I—” My voice broke, the weight of my words crashing down on me.

Joel stood there, silent, his expression closed off. He didn’t move toward me, didn’t try to fix it. He just… stood there.

My chest tightened, my eyes filling with frustration and pain. “I can’t keep doing this, Joel. Not anymore. I can’t keep giving myself to you when all you do is shut me out.”

He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but no words came out. His lips pressed together in a thin line, and his gaze never left mine.

With a deep, shaky breath, I turned and hurried out of the apartment, the door slamming behind me with a finality that echoed in the stillness of the QZ.

For weeks after that, Joel kept trying to talk to me—always the same routine. He would catch me at the market or outside the walls of the compound, his voice low and apologetic, his eyes full of regret.

“I’m not mad, you know,” he’d say. “Just need to understand what you’re saying.”

But I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I couldn’t bring herself to listen. I was angry, hurt, and scared. I didn’t want to feel this way. I wanted to move on, to forget about him and his damn walls. But I couldn’t.

I loved him.

And it tore me apart.

One afternoon, after yet another long, silent stretch between us, I was walking through the streets of the QZ when I heard footsteps behind me. I spun around, half-expecting it to be one of the usual assholes trying to sell me fake goods—but it was Joel. Again.

“Y/n,” he said, his voice strained but determined. “Can we talk?”

I closed my eyes for a moment, resisting the urge to scream.

“Joel, please—”

But before I could walk away, he grabbed my arm, his grip firm but not aggressive. “Just… let me talk,” he said. His eyes softened, and for the first time in a long time, I saw the man behind the walls—the vulnerability that was always buried so deep. “I need you to understand something.”

I pulled my arm free, but instead of walking away, I just… stopped.

Joel took a deep breath, stepping closer to me. “I can’t… I couldn’t let anyone in after Sarah. You know that, right? I didn’t know how to. But damn it, y/n… I didn’t want to lose you. I didn’t want to make this a mess, but I can’t keep pretending like I don’t feel something for you. I love you.”

The words hit me like a freight train, leaving me breathless. I opened my mouth to respond, but no sound came out.

“I love you, okay?” Joel continued, his voice cracking with emotion. “I just… didn’t know how to let anyone in again. I didn’t know if I could survive it. But I can’t—” He shook his head, frustration evident in his voice. “I can’t stay away from you, y/n. I don’t want to anymore.”

My breath hitched as my eyes filled with tears. I blinked them away, stepping closer to him. For the first time in forever, the walls between us were gone. He was finally letting me in.

“You mean it?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Joel nodded, his hands reaching for me, pulling me close. “I do. I’m sorry it took me this long to figure it out."

I didn't say anything else.

I closed the distance, wrapping my arms around him and kissing him deeply, pouring every ounce of love I’d kept locked away into that kiss.

We both knew the world outside wasn't kind, but for the first time in a long time, it didn't matter.

In each other's arms, we were finally free of the walls we’d both been hiding behind.

[ryuzakemo128]

second chance

joel miller x teacher!reader

summary: y/n, Sarah’s first-grade teacher, and Joel, Sarah’s dad, find themselves drawn together through their shared care for Sarah, their connection growing from school meetings into an unexpected and heartfelt romance.

joel miller masterlist

The leaves of Austin, Texas, shimmered in hues of orange and red, signaling the heart of fall. Joel Miller stood at the edge of the elementary school’s drop-off line, hands shoved deep into his jeans pockets, watching as Sarah, his spirited seven-year-old, skipped toward the school building. Her ponytail bobbed as she waved at her friends and dashed inside. Joel smiled faintly, but his expression shifted to curiosity when Sarah stopped and turned to hug her teacher—a woman he’d only seen from afar.

Y/n L/n, Sarah’s first-grade teacher, was kind-eyed and quick to laugh, with a warm presence that immediately put parents at ease. Joel, however, had been distant. Ever since Sarah’s mom left years ago, he’d been cautious with relationships—friendly, but reserved. He was a father first, and everything else came second.

But as I turned, our eyes met briefly. I smiled—soft and genuine.

“Mr. Miller, right?” I called, walking over.

“Uh, yeah. Joel,” he said, his Texan drawl thick.

I extended a hand. “I’m y/n l/n. Sarah’s been telling me all about you.”

Joel raised a brow. “She has?”

“Oh, yes. Apparently, you make the best pancakes in all of Texas,” I said with a teasing grin.

Joel chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, I don’t know about all of Texas, but she seems to think so.”

For a moment, we stood there, the autumn breeze weaving around us.

Joel wasn’t used to small talk, but there was something disarming about y/n—something that made him want to linger.

“I’m having a parent-teacher night next week,” I said. “You should come by. It’s a good chance to meet other parents and… you know, see some of Sarah’s work.”

Joel nodded. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be there.”

When the night arrived, Joel found himself standing in the brightly decorated classroom, surrounded by miniature desks and crayon artwork. Y/n moved through the room gracefully, greeting parents and answering questions. Joel stayed near Sarah’s desk, pretending to study her carefully written alphabet chart.

“Joel,” my voice cut through his thoughts. I stood beside him, holding two cups of punch.

“Thought you might need a drink,” I said.

“Thanks,” he said, taking the cup.

We chatted about Sarah—her love for reading, her knack for storytelling, and her stubborn determination. Joel found himself laughing more than he had in ages, and y/ns laughter was like sunlight breaking through clouds.

“Can I be honest?” I said after a pause.

“’Course.”

“I think Sarah gets her storytelling from you.”

Joel blinked, caught off guard. “Me? I’m not much of a storyteller.”

I tilted my head. “I don’t know. I think you have stories to tell—you just don’t share them.”

For a moment, Joel was quiet. Then, he said softly, “Maybe you’re right.”

Over the weeks that followed, Joel found excuses to linger after drop-offs or pick-ups. I would share stories about Sarah’s day, and Joel would offer small glimpses into his life. Slowly, the walls he’d built around himself began to crack.

One evening, I invited him and Sarah to the school’s fall festival. We walked the pumpkin patch together, Sarah running ahead to pick the biggest pumpkin I could carry. Joel and I trailed behind, our hands brushing occasionally as we laughed at Sarah’s antics.

“She’s a good kid,” I said.

“She’s my whole world,” Joel replied.

I hesitated before asking, “And what about you? What’s your world look like?”

Joel glanced at me, his heart thudding. “It’s been mostly just her. But… maybe there’s room for more.”

I smiled, my cheeks tinged pink. “I hope so.”

Joel Miller was pushing a squeaky grocery cart down the cereal aisle, trying to decide between Sarah’s favorite sugary treat and something a little less likely to send her bouncing off the walls. The seven-year-old was a master negotiator, but Joel was determined to stand his ground this time.

“Daddy, this one,” Sarah insisted, holding up a box of chocolate puffs with cartoon marshmallows grinning on the front.

“Sarah,” Joel drawled, pointing at the label, “this is more sugar than you need in a week.”

Sarah pouted. “But it’s got a toy inside!”

Joel shook his head, smiling faintly. “Nice try, kiddo. How ’bout we compromise? You can pick the granola bars.”

Sarah rolled her eyes, muttering something about how compromises were just “grown-up tricks,” but she skipped off to the next aisle. Joel chuckled to himself and turned back to the shelves.

“Fancy meeting you here,” a familiar voice said behind him.

Joel turned, and his heart did a funny little stutter. Y/n, Sarah’s first-grade teacher, stood there with a basket in hand. She looked different outside of the classroom—more relaxed, almost vulnerable—and it caught him off guard.

“Y/n,” he said, his voice warmer than he’d intended. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Same,” I replied with a smile. “Though I suppose teachers have to eat too, right?”

Joel chuckled. “Fair point.”

We stood there for a beat, the hum of fluorescent lights filling the silence. Joel wasn’t usually one for small talk, but something about y/n made him want to keep the conversation going.

“Daddy!” Sarah reappeared, clutching a box of granola bars. “Can I get these?”

Joel glanced at the box. “Good choice, kiddo.”

Sarah beamed, then noticed y/n. Her face lit up. “Miss L/n! What are you doing here?”

“Hi, Sarah,” I said, crouching down to her level. “Just getting some groceries. What about you?”

“Daddy wouldn’t let me get the good cereal,” Sarah said with exaggerated indignation, crossing her arms.

I laughed, glancing up at Joel. “Strict dad, huh?”

Joel shrugged, a grin tugging at his lips. “Gotta keep her in line somehow.”

I stood, my smile lingering. “Well, I should probably let you two finish shopping, but it was nice running into you.”

Before Joel could stop himself, he blurted, “You could, uh… join us. If you’re not in a hurry.”

I hesitated, my cheeks flushing slightly. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Miss l/n, you have to come with us,” Sarah said, grabbing my hand. “It’ll be fun!”

Joel gave me a small, almost shy smile. “What do you say?”

I glanced between us, then nodded. “Alright. Lead the way.”

As we navigated the aisles together, Joel was struck by how natural it all felt. I teased him about his choice of coffee, while Sarah chattered nonstop about her latest art project at school.

“Joel, you do know this instant stuff barely qualifies as coffee, right?” I said, holding up the jar he’d tossed into the cart.

“It does the job,” Joel said defensively.

I laughed, a light, melodic sound that Joel realized he liked far too much.

In the midst of our conversation, an elderly lady passing by smiled warmly at the little family and remarked, “What a cute family you are!” Joel, ever the reserved one, gave a polite nod, though his lips twitched with a slight smile. Sarah, grinning from ear to ear, looked at her dad for confirmation, and he responded with a soft chuckle. It was one of those rare moments where the world around us felt a little brighter, even in the mundane setting of a grocery store.

The encounter was short, but it left all of us with a small sense of connection and warmth as we continued with our shopping. It was a reminder that sometimes, even the simplest moments could feel special when shared with the right people.

By the time we reached the produce section, Sarah had darted off to examine a display of apples, leaving Joel and I by ourselves.

“This is nice,” y/n said softly, glancing at him.

Joel looked at me, looking surprised by my honesty. “Yeah,” he admitted. “It is.”

We stood there for a moment, the bustle of the store fading into the background. Joel wanted to say more—to tell her that he’d been thinking about her since the first parent-teacher night, that he hadn’t felt this comfortable around someone in years—but before he could, Sarah ran back, clutching an apple in each hand.

“Look, Daddy! Red or green?”

Joel smiled. “Both, kiddo.”

At the checkout, I placed my basket on the counter, glancing at Joel and Sarah. “I’ll let you two go ahead. Thanks for letting me tag along.”

“Miss L/n, are you coming to dinner with us?” Sarah asked, her big brown eyes hopeful.

Joel stiffened, his heart hammering in his chest. “Sarah, don’t—”

“I’d love to,” I said, cutting him off. My smile was soft but genuine, and my eyes met Joel’s. “If that’s okay with your dad.”

Joel cleared his throat, trying to ignore the heat creeping up his neck. “Yeah. Sure. Why not?”

Sarah cheered, and I laughed.

As they left the store together, Joel found himself thinking that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t just an ordinary grocery run. It felt like the start of something—something he wasn’t quite ready to name, but something he didn’t want to let go of.

And as I glanced at him with a smile that felt like sunshine, Joel realized he didn’t have to face the future alone.

It wasn’t an instant fairy tale. Joel was cautious, and I respected his pace. We spent time as a trio—movie nights with Sarah, weekend trips to the park—but also carved out moments for just the two of them.

One evening, after Sarah had fallen asleep on the couch, Joel walked me to my car. The moon cast a silver glow over the driveway as we stood there, the air heavy with unspoken words.

“Y/n,” Joel began, his voice low. “I never thought I’d… let someone in again. But you…”

I placed a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to say anything, Joel. I—”

But before I could finish, he leaned in, his lips brushing mine in a tender, hesitant kiss.

When we pulled back, I smiled. “I think Sarah’s going to be thrilled.”

Joel chuckled, his hand still lingering on my cheek. “Yeah, she’s been hintin’ at this for weeks.”

As y/n drove away, Joel stood in the driveway, a warmth spreading through him that he hadn’t felt in years. For the first time in a long time, the future didn’t feel so lonely.

And in the weeks that followed, as their relationship deepened, Joel realized he wasn’t just rebuilding his life—he was building something new, something worth holding onto.

[ryuzakemo128]

I don't really understand why people only consider destiel jack's dads, not just because sam is also there, but also because it's infinitely funnier if Jack says "I have more dads than most people" and means 1. the devil himself 2. the president of the united states 3. a fallen angel 4. that guy's situationship 5. number 4's brother

who is doing it like him

[ryuzakemo128]

blended

joel miller x reader

summary: y/n and Joel, best friends for years, fall in love but keep their relationship a secret from their kids. Until…

joel miller masterlist

Joel Miller and I had been neighbors for as long as either of us could remember. Our backyards were separated by a tall wooden fence, but that was more of a formality than anything. In reality, our houses were an extension of each other, and over the years, the boundaries between our lives had blurred. We were both single parents—Joel raising his spirited daughter, Sarah, and me looking after my young son, Dean. Life hadn’t been easy for either of us.

Joel’s wife had left when Sarah was just a baby, leaving him with a little girl to raise on his own. Me, on the other hand, had found myself a single mother after an unexpected divorce. Both of us had been thrust into the daunting world of parenting without the safety net of a partner, but somehow, we made it work.

Our bond started small, over shared cups of coffee on early mornings when both kids were at school or daycare. We’d watch each other struggle with the chaos of work and parenting, the endless juggling act, and laugh about how nothing was ever as easy as it seemed in the movies. Over time, we became more than just neighbors; we became best friends.

Joel would pick up Dean from soccer practice when I had to work late, and I would help Sarah with school projects when Joel was caught in work. There was a kind of quiet understanding between us, a bond that didn’t need words. We helped each other out without asking, our friendship built on mutual respect and the recognition that, in this crazy world of single parenthood, we were in it together.

It wasn’t just the practical stuff that kept us close. It was the late-night talks, the way we’d vent about the frustrations of being a single parent and life. Joel would talk about how hard it was to balance everything and still try to be the dad Sarah needed, and I would nod along, sharing how sometimes, I just needed a moment to breathe.

But lately, things had started to feel different. There was an underlying tension between us that neither had quite acknowledged. Maybe it was the way I laughed at Joel’s jokes a little too long, or how Joel caught himself lingering in the kitchen when I was making dinner, offering to chop vegetables for me when he didn’t really need to. It was subtle at first—a lingering look, a hand brushing against the other’s arm—but neither of us could deny it.

One evening, after our kids had gone to bed, Joel found himself sitting on my porch with a beer in hand, the air cool and quiet around us. Sarah had spent the night at a friend’s house, and Noah had fallen asleep on the couch watching cartoons. It was one of those rare, peaceful moments when the house was still, and the noise of parenthood seemed far away.

I sat beside him, my legs stretched out in front of me as I looked up at the stars. “You ever think about dating again?” I asked casually, my voice low, as if I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the answer.

Joel glanced over at me, surprised. He had thought about it, of course, but it felt like a distant idea. “I don’t know… I mean, it’s hard. Sarah’s still so young, and I don’t know how to balance that with someone else. You?”

I smiled softly, the kind of smile that made my eyes crinkle at the corners. “Same. But sometimes… I don’t know. Sometimes I think maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, you know?”

He nodded, feeling the weight of the conversation settle between us. For a moment, neither of us spoke, the silence comfortable but charged.

Then, almost without thinking, Joel leaned in, closing the space between us. He hadn’t meant for it to happen—it just did. But when our lips met, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. His hand found its way to my cheek, and I leaned into him, the kiss deepening, soft but full of meaning.

For a long moment, there was only the quiet sound of our breathing and the faint rustling of leaves in the breeze. It was like the world outside had disappeared, leaving just the two of us—two people who had been through so much and had somehow found a way to comfort each other.

Me and Joel had been seeing each other for a few months, our relationship blossoming quietly under the radar.

But me and Joel had decided early on to keep things under wraps. Our kids, Dean and Sarah, were at that precarious age where any major shift in our lives could feel monumental. Dean, my 8-year-old son, had a sharp eye and a habit of piecing together puzzles he wasn’t meant to. Sarah, Joel’s 7-year-old daughter, was a little more reserved, but she had a knack for overhearing conversations at precisely the wrong moments. We weren’t ready for questions, pushback, or the inevitable emotional fallout—not yet.

So, we snuck around.

On Wednesday evenings, when Sarah and Dean were at soccer practice, me and Joel would meet for dinner at an out-of-the-way restaurant. We’d laugh over shared stories of parenting mishaps and steal kisses in the parking lot, always mindful of the time. Weekends required even more creativity. Sometimes, Joel would claim he needed to “work late” while I pretended I was out for a “girls’ night,” and we’d catch a movie or go for a drive. Our favorite escape was a small café on the edge of town that neither of our kids would ever frequent.

The sneaking added a layer of excitement, but it also made things complicated. The guilt of hiding weighed on us both, but it also pushed us to make sure this was something real before introducing it to our kids.

“We can’t keep this up forever,” I said one evening as we sat in Joel’s car, parked on a quiet street after dinner.

“I know,” Joel replied, reaching for my hand. “But I just… I want to be sure. I want them to see how much this means to me before we bring them into it.”

I nodded, my heart warm but conflicted. We both knew the risk. If Dean or Sarah found out before we were ready, the fallout could be messy. But for now, we were content to live in our little secret bubble, savoring stolen moments and the thrill of something new.

We promised each other that when the time was right—when we were both certain this relationship had a future—we’d tell our kids together. Until then, we’d keep sneaking around, juggling the demands of our lives while holding onto this spark that made all the secrecy feel worth it.

Me and Joel stood in the kitchen, the soft hum of the refrigerator the only sound in the quiet house. Joel had just finished fixing the leaky faucet and was leaning against the counter, his warm gaze locked on me.

“You know,” he said with a small, teasing smile, “this house really keeps me busy. I might have to start charging you for all the repairs.”

I laughed softly, my cheeks tinged pink. “Oh, please. You love it here.”

“I do,” Joel murmured, his voice turning softer. Then, without thinking, he leaned in and kissed me. It was tender, unhurried—a moment just for us.

Or so we thought.

“Mom?! Dad?!”

We pulled apart abruptly to see Dean and Sarah standing in the doorway, our eyes wide. Dean looked utterly baffled, while Sarah wore an expression that practically screamed, Finally.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked, his voice rising in confusion.

I froze, a guilty smile tugging at my lips. “Uh… well…”

“They were kissing, Dean,” Sarah said, rolling her eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Dean blinked, looking between us. “Wait. Why?!”

Joel cleared his throat, stepping forward. “Alright, let’s all sit down and talk, okay?”

The kids followed us into the living room, where me and Joel sat on the couch, with Dean and Sarah plopping down across from us.

I took a deep breath. “Okay, so here’s the thing. Joel and I have been spending a lot of time together, as you know. And we’ve realized that we care about each other in a different way than just being friends.”

Dean tilted his head. “Like… boyfriend and girlfriend?”

Joel nodded. “Exactly. But we didn’t want to say anything until we were sure, because you two are the most important people to us, and we wanted to make sure this wouldn’t upset you.”

Dean stared at us for a moment, then asked, “So… is Joel and Sarah gonna live here now?”

I chuckled softly. “No, not right now. Joel and Sarah will still live next door. We’re just taking things one step at a time.”

Sarah, who had been unusually quiet, finally grinned. “I knew it. You guys were so obvious.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Obvious?”

Sarah nodded. “Yeah. My dad’s over here all the time, you’re always laughing at his dumb jokes, and you look at each other like those people in the movies. I told Dean this was going to happen.”

Dean looked Sarah, frowning. “Wait, you knew? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you wouldn’t get it,” Sarah said with a dramatic sigh.

Dean looked back at Joel and I, squinting. “So… does this mean Joel can take us to the arcade more? ‘Cause that’d be cool.”

Joel laughed, relieved. “Sure, buddy. I’d be happy to take you guys to the arcade.”

Sarah smirked. “And you owe us ice cream for keeping this a secret.”

Joel grinned. “Deal.”

I smiled at the kids, my heart swelling with relief. “So… you guys are okay with this?”

Sarah shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, it’s kind of weird, but it’s also cool. We’re basically a family anyway.”

Dean nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, it’s like we already knew, kinda.”

I reached out, pulling them both into a hug. “You two are amazing. Thank you for being so understanding.”

As the kids scampered off, Sarah turned back at the doorway. “Just no more kissing in front of us, okay? It’s gross.”

Joel chuckled. “Deal.”

When we were alone, Joel looked at me and smiled. “That went a lot better than I thought it would.”

I leaned into him, resting my head on his shoulder. “It did. They’re happy, and so am I.”

Joel kissed my temple, his voice low and warm. “Then I’d say we’re off to a pretty great start.”

[ryuzakemo128]

take it easy

joel miller x reader

summary: joel and y/n’s quiet morning exchanging sneaky touches and lingering glances.

a/n: kisses, sneaking touches, veryyy domestic, lovebirds

joel miller masterlist

It was a Saturday morning, and the house was bustling with that kind of comfortable chaos that comes with having family around. The smell of bacon and eggs filled the kitchen, and the TV in the living room was playing some sports game that Tommy and Joel were half-watching while Sarah looked at a book at the kitchen table.

I moved around the kitchen, gathering ingredients for breakfast. I liked mornings like this—simple, cozy, with the people I loved nearby. Joel was sitting at the table, his hands wrapped around a mug of coffee, still in his pajamas, looking relaxed but with that hint of a smile playing on his lips. He caught my eye across the room.

My gaze met his, and that little spark in my chest ignited. It was a small, almost unnoticeable gesture, but the warmth it sent through me was undeniable. It was our thing, these quiet moments, even in the midst of family chaos.

Joel’s hand casually slid across the table, his fingers brushing mine for just a second. I didn’t say anything, just squeezed his hand, feeling the familiar weight of his touch.

“Alright, enough of the sweet talk, you two,” Tommy called from the living room, a grin spreading across his face as he leaned into the doorway. “What’s for breakfast?”

I laughed softly and turned to Tommy. “You know, if you didn’t eat us out of house and home last time you stayed, maybe we’d have more leftovers for the next day.”

“Oh, come on,” Tommy said with a wink. “It’s just a healthy appetite. I’m a growing guy.”

Sarah looked over at them from the kitchen table, raising an eyebrow as she bit into her toast. “Growing? You’re pushing thirty, Tommy. If you’re still growing, you’re doing it the wrong way.”

Joel chuckled, but before he could say anything, Sarah’s teasing voice rang out again. “And, Dad, please don’t get any ideas about stealing any kisses in front of us. We all know how you two are.”

My cheeks warmed, but I didn’t let the teasing faze me. I shot Joel a look, and in response, he just gave me a small, mischievous smile. It wasn’t like we were doing anything to hide our affection, but the teasing was a little more pronounced when Sarah was around.

“I wasn’t planning on anything like that,” Joel said, his voice full of mock innocence, though his fingers still lingered on my wrist as I moved around the kitchen.

I shook my head but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at my lips. “Yeah, sure, you weren’t.”

With the distractions of family around us, our stolen moments of affection didn’t need to be grand. It was the small things. When I reached for the milk in the fridge, Joel passed by, his fingers brushing against my back as he grabbed a spoon from the drawer. The touch was fleeting, but the warmth lingered.

Later, when the food was ready, we all gathered around the table, Sarah and Tommy talking about everything and nothing as Joel and I exchanged small glances when they thought no one was looking. When Sarah got up to refill her drink, Joel didn’t hesitate to slide closer to me, his arm brushing against mine as he passed her the syrup. It was casual but intimate, the kind of affection that filled the room without needing to be said.

After breakfast, we all moved into the living room, where Tommy was setting up a board game. Sarah, ever the critic, was already making sarcastic comments about how Joel always cheated. Joel rolled his eyes but let Sarah have her fun.

I joined them on the couch, and as Tommy explained the rules of the game (again), Joel sat next to me, his hand brushing lightly over my knee. I glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow as though to say, Really? Right now?

Joel just gave me a quick, soft smile and whispered, “I can’t help it. You look too good, always.”

I bit back a laugh, not wanting to make a scene with everyone around, but my heart warmed anyway. I rested my hand on his, just for a second, before the game started in full swing, the four of us laughing and teasing each other.

As the afternoon wore on, they all sat together in the living room, Joel and I on the couch, Tommy sprawled out on the chair, and Sarah lounging on the floor with a blanket. Sarah, being the observant one, caught every glance, every little touch, but she didn’t make a big deal of it. Instead, she just rolled her eyes dramatically and muttered, “You two are disgusting,” before returning to her book.

Joel couldn’t resist; he nudged me with his shoulder, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of my head. It was soft, quick, but it said everything. I turned to face him, and for just a moment, our eyes locked. We didn’t need to say a word. The comfort, the quiet love, was enough.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow through the living room windows, Joel and I found ourselves on the couch again, after everyone else had slowly dispersed. Tommy had gone to grab some beers, and Sarah had retreated to her room for some alone time.

It was just us now—quiet and peaceful.

Joel reached over to gently tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers brushed against my cheek, and for a second, he just looked at me, as though I was the only thing in the world.

“You know,” he said quietly, his voice filled with that familiar warmth. “I don’t need much, just this. You and me. It’s perfect.”

I smiled, leaning in to kiss him. It was gentle and sweet, a kiss that didn’t need to be rushed. The world outside our little bubble could wait. For a moment, there was no one else but us, our hands tangled together, hearts quietly beating in sync.

“Yeah,” I whispered against his lips. “It’s perfect.”

And in the noise of everyday life—of Sarah’s teasing, Tommy’s laughter, and the ordinary moments of a busy household—those small, sweet touches, those quiet kisses, were all the love we needed.

[ryuzakemo128]

loving you, loving me

joel miller x reader

summary: y/n and joel save time for the little moments in their busy schedules

a/n: veryyy domestic, kissing

joel miller masterlist

The sun had barely risen when I stirred awake. The soft light filtered through the bedroom window, casting gentle shadows across the room. I shifted, my body still heavy with sleep, but the warm weight of Joel beside me made it hard to stay asleep. He was still tangled in the covers, a few strands of his messy brown hair sticking to his forehead.

I smiled softly, brushing them away, the quiet intimacy of the moment making my heart flutter. Before I could think, my hand found its way to his arm, fingers tracing the familiar muscle beneath his worn-out shirt. Joel stirred just a little, his breath deepening as if he could sense my touch even in his sleep.

“Morning, handsome,” I whispered, leaning down to kiss the side of his cheek.

“Mmm,” Joel muttered, eyes still closed. “Mornin’.”

His voice was gravelly from sleep, but there was something comforting about it. Something that made the rush of our busy lives seem insignificant in this small pocket of quiet. He cracked an eye open, meeting my gaze with a smile that softened his rough exterior.

“I have to get up soon,” I murmured, already dreading the coming hours. “But I don’t want to leave you yet.”

“I know, I don’t want you to either.” Joel reached for me, pulling me into a brief but tender embrace. “But you have work, and I gotta get to the construction site.”

We both groaned at the reality of our hectic schedules, the same routine we’d shared for years. I leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips before slipping out of bed. He watched me go, a sense of longing in his chest as he sat up, but he didn’t say anything—just let his gaze linger on me for a few moments before he started his own morning routine.

Later, at the office, I sat hunched over a pile of paperwork, the soft hum of the fluorescent lights above the only sound in the quiet office. I was buried deep in numbers when I felt the briefest sensation—someone’s fingers grazing against mine. Startled, I looked up and found Joel standing in the doorway, grinning like a schoolboy.

“Don’t you have a meeting?” I whispered, though my heart skipped a beat.

“I do,” he said, voice low. “But I needed to steal a kiss from my wife.” He leaned down just enough to plant a soft kiss on my lips, just a touch—so quick, but full of warmth.

I smiled, the weight of the day momentarily lifted. “I needed that.”

“I’ll be back tonight, okay?” He squeezed my hand before turning to go, leaving my heart full and my work still waiting.

The hours between our brief exchanges seemed endless. By the time I got home that evening, the house was quiet, the air a little cooler, and the sun was setting in a soft cascade of oranges and pinks. I kicked off my shoes and headed toward the kitchen, where Joel was busy making dinner, his shirt rolled up at the sleeves.

“Smells good in here,” I said, my voice carrying a bit of weariness from the long day.

Joel turned, a smile immediately spreading across his face as he crossed the room. “I thought we could eat together tonight, no interruptions. Just us.”

I felt a rush of affection and walked straight into his arms. I didn’t say anything—just pressed my face into his chest, feeling the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat. He held me like that for a long moment, his hands moving gently up and down my back.

“I missed you today,” I murmured.

“I missed you too.” He kissed the top of my head, a soft, lingering gesture. “But hey, I think we both know there’s no such thing as too much love, right?”

I chuckled softly. “You say that now, but you’ve got a lot of work ahead of you.”

“We’ll manage,” Joel said, his voice warm with certainty. “I’ll find ways to sneak kisses in. I’ll make sure you never forget I’m here.”

And so, it went. The days were busy, the hours long, but whenever we could, we stole moments together. A touch of my hand while making coffee, a kiss on the cheek when no one was looking, an embrace that lasted just a little longer than it should have. Those tiny moments made up for the time we were apart.

At night, after the world had quieted, and the chaos of our separate lives had finally simmered down, we sat side by side, Joel’s hand nestled in mine, his fingers drawing circles against my palm. The silence between us was never uncomfortable—it was the kind of silence that spoke volumes, the kind that only two people who had been through years of life together could understand.

“I love you, y/n,” Joel whispered as we both settled in for the night, the room dark except for the faint light coming through the window.

“i love you too,” I replied, turning my face to him, my lips seeking his for a final, soft kiss of the day.

And as we lay there, with nothing but the sound of each other’s breath and the occasional murmur of affection, we knew our love—quiet, steady, and full of those small, meaningful moments—was more than enough to keep us going through the busiest of days.

[ryuzakemo128]

Thinking about going into labor while your partner is on the way somewhere unimportant, who refuses to come home to help you. And instead of being alone and scared, you hang up and call up one of your childhood friends everyone thought you'd wind up with. Kyle shows up at your door, furious but does his best to hide it, and helps you through it all. Next day the father of your child has the audacity to show up like nothing is wrong to see Kyle holding your baby so you can take a well deserved nap.

he picks up on the third ring. you tremble, gripping the edge of the porcelain tub. when you finally hear his voice, just the sound of him soothes your beating heart, just a little.

"'ello, love."

"kyle?" you sniffle. his background quiets a bit. you hear a door close, and then he's a bit louder.

"hey, love. what's wrong? you sound upset."

"my water broke," you hiccup. "a-and i...i was in the bath...i-i..." you close your eyes. "i can't get out of the tub."

"jesus fucking christ." you whimper, but kyle just hums. "not you, baby. hey, you just relax, alright? you said you were in the bath. just relax, and i'll be there soon."

"kyle--"

"don't be scared," kyle chuckles, and you whine a little. "hey, you're gonna have a baby. you've been waiting for this, yeah? haven't you?"

"y-yeah..."

"aren't you excited? you always tell me how much you can't wait, right?"

"yeah..."

"don't be scared," kyle repeats. "you just relax. be happy. she's coming today!"

you smile, wiping your face a little, and when kyle hears your giggle, he sighs.

"good girl. you sit tight."

so you do. you lean against the side of the tub, and you rest in the warm water as you stare at your phone screen.

he won't answer the phone. he hasn't read your texts. he's not coming.

you hear the front door open and close, and then there's a gentle knock on the bathroom door. when kyle comes in, you try to cover up, moving your hands over your tits, embarrassed, but kyle just goes to look for a clean towel to help you out.

"it's okay, love, i won't look," kyle tells you. he smiles at you, cupping your face gently, and you look into his dark eyes. "you look so pretty. you're glowin', y'know that?" you smile through gentle tears, putting a hand over your belly, and you try to move, but it's no use. kyle drops the towel, kneeling, and you shake your head.

"i-i can't get out--" you gasp, and kyle rolls up his sleeves over his thick forearms, putting the towel over his shoulder before he reaches for you.

"it's alright. i'll get you out. i'll try not to look, okay?"

"i'm so embarrassed...i'm so sorry, kyle..." you sniffle.

"don't apologize, love. i got it. give me your hands, put 'em around me."

you lift up your wet arms, wrapping them around his neck. you press your chest against his, and he picks you up as you stand, helping you to your feet. as you cup your belly, he wraps the towel around you, covering you, and then he holds your hand as you step out of the tub.

"alright. now where's your bag, darling?"

kyle grabs your bag and supplies as you get dressed in your room. as you pull your socks on, kyle comes up behind you, smoothing your hair down your back before he starts to braid it. he used to braid your hair all the time when you were kids--he always said he wanted to practice for his sisters.

"you got the car seat, kyle?" you ask as he holds your hand, and he nods.

"mhm. in the car already."

"a-and the diaper bag?"

"in the boot."

"my extra clothes? and my...my stuff?"

"mhm. i got it, love. and whatever you forgot, i'll get it for you. alright, up, buckle in, that's a girl."

he holds your hand the entire way. you groan softly when a particularly painful contraction hits you, but when you squeeze kyle's hand, all he does is squeeze back. you take deep breaths, leaning your head back, and he hums.

"you're doing so well, love. so well."

"why..." your eyes water. you squeeze his hand again, and when you look down, your vision is blurry from your tears. "why didn't he answer? w-why...why doesn't he...w-why would he..."

"don't worry your pretty head about tha', love," kyle interrupts you gently. "only thing you need to worry about is you and her. i got it."

"o-okay."

she's beautiful. she looks more like you than her father, and kyle counts that blessing. she's got your eyes, your nose, your hair. her cheeks belong to her father, but she might as well be your twin, and when kyle takes her from you later that night, rocking her gently, he can really see up close how much she looks like you.

in the middle of the night, kyle holds your hand as you get up to go to the bathroom. your entire body is tender and sluggish, but kyle keeps you upright as you walk, kissing your head gently as he helps you take a seat on the toilet.

he even gets your underwear set up for you, with the big pad and everything, and he helps you step into it and slips them up and over your hips. you're a tearful mess as he does this, but kyle just presses his forehead against yours.

the look in his eyes, you will never forget it. the intensity. the commitment. the stability. every time you pick up the phone, kyle answers, and sometimes he's thousands of miles away. your own boyfriend can't even have the decency to answer when you're nine months pregnant--what did he fucking think the call was going to be about?

back in your room, kyle fits into the bed with you. he lets your rest your head on his chest, and when you ask him if he's going to go home, he tells you this is close enough.

in the morning, kyle's sitting outside your room with the baby. he's holding her, touching her little nose, letting you sleep in. you had a rough night, and when he found you still with your eyes closed that morning, he figured he would let you keep sleeping, just for an extra hour or so.

you deserve it.

"is that her?"

kyle's head turns with a snap. standing there, hands shoved deep in his pockets, is your pathetic excuse of a boyfriend. not man enough to answer the phone when you most needed him, not strong enough to do the right thing and marry you, and not wise enough to realize all he had to do was take care of you, and the world would be right again. you're not greedy. you don't ask for anything. all you want is to love and be loved, and kyle doesn't think that's too much to ask for, kyle thinks you're one of the most selfless women he's ever known, so why does this fucking bastard of a man get to call himself this girl's father?

kyle looks back down, fixing the blanket over your daughter's neck carefully. he thinks he did pretty good swaddling her this time, but you might have an opinion on it.

"i'm gonna say somethin', mate," kyle says lowly. "'n after i say it, y'r gonna do some thinking, real thinking."

he laughs a little, shaking his head.

"why don't you give me my baby, and get the fuck outta 'ere?"

kyle looks up and snickers, shaking his head. he gets a better grip on your daughter, sitting back, and he fixes your ex with a sinister smile.

"and what if i don't? you gonna take her from me?" kyle chuckles. "i'd love to see you try."

he stands, raising a brow.

"listen here, and listen close." kyle takes a step closer to him. "you're a right pile of shit comin' here thinking that you can just waltz right in and be daddy of the year, alright? what kind of man are you, eh? your girl in need, callin' you, and you don't even have the fuckin' balls to answer her? take a good look at your kid, mate, cause it's the last time you're ever gonna see her."

"no, i have the right--"

"to fuck right off," kyle snaps. "if i see you near her or her daughter ever again, i'll find you, and i'll make it worth your while, mate. make you feel real sorry finally, y'hear me? 'n when i take her back home, all of your junk better be out the flat. otherwise, i'll fucking burn it."

"kyle?"

your voice pulls him away. kyle adjusts the baby in his arm, going back inside, and he shuts the door behind him, finding your eyes. you reach for the baby, arms outstretched, and kyle easily sets her down in them, watching as you cradle the tiny thing into the crook of your neck and stroke the back of her neck.

the nurses come in and drop off a few papers. one stops, looking at kyle, giving him a big smile.

"congratulations," she tells him, and he smiles back at her. she takes a seat next to him, holding out a clipboard. "do you think i could get a few details? i just need to know mum's name, baby's name--"

kyle gives it to her. your birthplace. your birthday. your name. your baby's name. then she flips a paper over, putting her pen down.

"and dad's name?" she asks.

kyle sighs, leaning back in his chair. they don't give out birth certificates right away. you have to request it. you won't find out, not just yet, maybe he'll even pick it up for you. you'll be much too busy being mummy dearest.

"kyle," he tells her, flashing her that big smile. she blushes a little, writing it down. "kyle garrick."

he looks back at where you are, your eyes on him. you smile shyly when your eyes meet, and kyle leaves the nurse to come up to you and drape a hand behind your head. he strokes along your hair gently, thumbing at your temple.

"i heard you outside, kyle."

"did you?"

"and i heard you just now."

"mm."

you blink, reaching for the edge of his shirt, and you pull him down, further, until his face is nearly against yours.

"i guess i shouldn't be surprised," you say softly, reaching up to smooth a a few knuckles down his cheek. he leans into it, licking his lips, and you bite your lip. "you've always had a habit of...taking what doesn't belong to you, huh?"

kyle laughs. always the pretty boy, ever since you were little. one smile from him--kyle could get away with anything. anything at all.

"who says you don't belong to me?"